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reiderwriter · 2 days

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Four In Some Velvet Morning

Chapter Two of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Civility in the office is equal to pettiness in all things, but when you help Spencer out in a sticky situation, it's all your mind can think about well into the early hours in the morning.

Warnings: Uncomfortable situation with a student (non-reciprocated), suggestive touching, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, soft dom! Spencer.

A/N: The second part is finally here!! I hope you enjoy the various office shenanigans of Spencer and our reader. Based on the results of our last chapter, I've made a taglist, which you can access through the link below! Have fun reading, and be sure to let me know what you think in the comments~♡

Masterlist || Add yourself to the taglist~♡

You loved Mondays, or you did love Mondays when they meant only a single teaching hour and a free office to catch up on however much work you'd put off the week before.

But, like everything in your life now, Mondays were ruined by Doctor Spencer Reid.

When you and your coffee arrived at 8:45 on Monday morning, he was right there. You heaved out a sigh of frustration, and he didn't respond, so you sank into an hours worth of annoyed sighs and silence.

“Hmmph,” you huffed, standing from your desk and making your bookshelves. Still ordered alphabetically, and topically, you tried your best to look for the reference guide you'd been annotating all semester. But with no helpful guide to which topics it was that he'd used, you found yourself turning around to address your silent, unwanted companion.

“Spencer, my reference book, where is it?”

You stared blankly at him for a few minutes as you watched him trace a finger down the page he was reading. Delicately, he turned the page and resumed reading the next one, stroking the page like it was a lover in a tender moment, his fingers trailing down to offer his intimacy.

“Spencer?” You said again, and he again ignored you.

“Spencer, there's no way you're reading that fast, cut the crap and answer my question.”

“I can read 20,000 words per minute. Thus, I am busy. And weren't you ignoring me?” You took a deep breath and counted to ten in your head before replying.

“I thought we were being civil, Spencer.”

“I am being civil. I'm very civil. Are you being civil, Ms. Y/N?”

“Doctor,” you spat out. “I may have only one to your three, but I did work hard for it.”

He stopped reading and looked up at you, noting the angry look on your face. Standing up quickly, he checked his watch, grabbed his bag and jacket, making sure to carefully slide the book he was molesting into his bag, and walked straight for the door.

“Spencer!” You said indignantly, and he turned back to you with a sarcastic smile, pulling the book you were searching for off the bookcase and throwing it in your direction, before stalking out of the room.

“Jackass!” You shouted behind him as he sent a wave over his shoulder.

Civility. Well, if that was his idea of civility, you could be just as civil. And you'd start by taking all of the books off of the bookshelves once again.

When three hours had elapsed and Spencer had concluded the day's work, he was disappointed to find the office empty. He didn't dwell on the feeling for long, though, as he flipped the light switch to utter chaos.

You'd pretty much gutted the entire shelf, leaving pretty piles stacked all across his desk, chair, and the floor surrounding it, making it near impossible to make his way to his desk without moving something.

The shelves weren't totally empty, though. You'd left roughly thirty books on the centre shelf, held in place by paper weights he recognised as his own acting as bookends.

A post-it was stuck to the first book.

“Ignore this,” you'd written, a lipstick kiss pressed into the paper as your only form of signature. For plausible deniability, of course. You'd never sign your name to a crime.

He sighed and lifted a hand to start taking some books down when he spotted it.

“D…o…n….t…,” he would've gotten further but for the grin spreading across his face as he read the first letter on each book spine. You'd spelt out five words, and he felt a vague sense of satisfaction knowing you'd spent so much time just trying to mess with him.

“DONT TOUCH MY SHIT, JACKASS,” you'd written. But he was absolutely going to touch your shit.

Much to his chagrin, you didn't return to the office that day, too busy with other duties to need to go back. You also wanted to give him a wide berth, hoping that he'd have time to simmer instead of immediately retaliate for all the shit you'd pulled that morning.

Which was why Spencer found himself at work at 6 a.m., getting an early start so he could see your reaction to his, honestly quite tame reply.

You'd acted like a toddler throwing toys out of your pram for no reason. And while he wasn't exactly acting mature himself, he could at least liken himself to a young child throwing the toys back in frustration.

Everything about sharing this office with you was going to be frustrating.

He opened his book again - War and Peace - and began reading through it as he waited for the sun to rise and you to arrive with it.

It was well worth it to catch the look on your face.

“Jackass,” you muttered under your breath as you walked in, coffees and pastries in hand.

He'd put the majority of the books back on the shelf in his order and system. But he'd also left out a large pile of books, blocking the narrow passage between your desk and the wall. It was taller than you and hardly stable, and since you did not want to get concussed on a Tuesday morning, there was no other route to your desk but squeezing behind his.

You huffed out a sigh, dropping what you'd hoped would be truce coffee and breakfast on his desk before standing to push past him. He blocked your way with his arm as he finished up reading a chapter.

“Password?” He asked, not looking up from his desk.

“Very funny, let me pass.”

“Incorrect,” he smiled, nodding towards the shelf where you'd left yesterday's message.

“Seriously?” You asked. His answering look supplied the answer you needed - try me.

“Don't touch my shit, jackass,” you said in a sarcastic tone, trying once again to push past. His damn arm was still too solid, and he pushed you back once again.

“I'm sorry, Y/N, but that was yesterday's password. You'll have to try again.”

Squinting down at him in confusion, you did your best not to dump his coffee over the top of his head as he nodded to the shelf again.

Your writing was still there, but one shelf down there was a new message.

“BUT… ILO…I LOVE… TOU-” You froze, your entire body going hot as you walked back over to him. He was taking a sip of his coffee, as you desperately avoided eye contact. You knew you were attractive, but you honestly didn't think that Spencer would be interested in you like that. And flirting like this, so out of the blue?

Something had to be wrong with him.

“Password?” He asked, taking another sip.

“B-But I love touching you,” you stammered out, cheeks aflame.

He somehow coughed and snorted at the same time, shooting out of his chair with wide eyes.

“More-” he coughed. “That's not… There's more.”

Your eyes went wide as saucers as you ran back over to the shelves, reading to what was actually the end of the message.

“But I love touching your shit,” you mumbled, and he didn't bother even raising a hand this time. He let you pass, and you sat in tense silence for the rest of the morning.

You got over the awkwardness soon, though, and began using the shelves to torture each other between classes.

You'd once replaced all three textbooks for his class with Russian language versions, back firing spectacularly as he smiled and began reading from them anyway.

He'd started putting important texts on the very top shelf and hiding the only step on the floor in some classroom or the other. Though he too had quit that when other members of staff grew frustrated at the steps disappearance.

You both kept up with the book messages.

“YOU'RE… TOO…LOUD”

“I DIDNT… DO…ANYTHING”

“YOU BREATHED”

“BOO HOO”

“COFFEE…PLEASE”

“IM NOT…YOUR…ASSISTANT”

“WITH THREE… SUGARS”

“I HOPE…. DIABETES… GETS YOU”

“SO…MATURE”

If you were being honest with yourself, you'd probably have realized that you were having a lot of fun hating Spencer Reid. Which made him a little bit harder to hate.

You wished he'd have been more mature about the whole thing, really, so you could despise him without laughing at his audacity every five minutes.

Thursday was the worst day for both of you. Thankfully, he'd taken your advice and scheduled his office hours around your classes.

What he hadn't taken into account was that on Thursdays, you had several classes on different disciplines and for different degree levels, meaning a truck load of resources you had to either cart around with you all day (impossible) or you'd have to drop into your office regularly to pick up your things.

You'd ended up in the same queue as the myriad of undergrads that were taking his course or just auditing and wanted to pick his brain on his off hours, and it was hell each time.

“God, isn't he just so fine. An 18-year age gap isn't noticeable, right?” One girl whispered to her friend as you turned the corner, books in hand, ready to use them as defence weapons should the need arise. The need to laugh and yell it was too much had you biting your tongue quickly. The man was 10 years older than even you, and even you had to pause at the age difference. These girls were practically children.

“And his hair? I just want to tangle my hair in it and pull him down to my-”

“Girls! Please remember this is a hallway, and your professors are still trying to get some work done.”

To their credit, the two first years did turn crimson in shame, sending each other panicked and dirty looks as they communicated their shared horror.

You stepped up to the small hall window at your office and peeked through the blinds.

Another student was inside with Spencer, and the panicked look on his face meant that his conversation was probably going similarly.

The students in the hall whispered and glanced at you every few seconds, and if you weren't in the biggest rush of your professional career, you'd take the time to ask them if you had something on your face.

Instead, you just tried to knock on the glass and hope Spencer would notice your plea for access.

When Spencer noticed you at the window, his eyes locked with yours, his mouth forming a simple plea as the undergrad inched closer to him.

“Help,” he mouthed.

You shrugged in reply, wondering what would possibly be so bad that he'd need your help of all things.

It was then that you noticed the undergrad had reached out a hand to play with the buttons of his jacket, stroking her hand along his chest as he cringed backwards.

You watched him take her hands off him, but she was tenacious, or just a downright creep, and she grabbed his thigh this time, pressing her chest forward. You couldn't see it yourself, but you knew from his reaction and instantly turned head that she was dangerously close to flashing him.

Or she was just doing it.

His eyes pleaded for help again, and you barged into the room with a large cough.

“Doctor Reid, if I could have a moment of your time? It's urgent.”

You dumped the books on your desk, and he jumped up to greet you, stepping out of the young students' grasp and almost shielding himself behind where you stood.

“Of course, yes, Y/N. It is urgent, so I'm sure the students will... be understanding."

He turned back to the student and gestured helpfully to show her the door, but her angry gaze was stuck on yours.

“Old ass skank,” you heard her whisper under her breath. From the hand on your arm and the furrowing of his brow you knew Spencer had as well.

“I'm sorry, what was that, Miss….?”

“Hmm? I'm sure I didn't say anything, Doctor Y/L/N.”

“You-” Spencer began but you silenced him with a hand on his chest.

Her gaze flicked to it, and she grew redder in the face, as if she were truly angry at this development. Interesting.

“Spencer,” you span around, totally ignoring the student now, wrapping your arms up and around his neck. He blinked in confusion once and then twice and hesitated, but let his hands land on your waist.

“It really is so urgent that we speak. Alone. I wouldn't want your precious students hearing anything I have to say to you.” You leaned in closer for the last words, letting your voice flow like honey, neatly seductive as you did your best to remind the student of her place.

Which was as far from a professor's bed as possible.

“She's just leaving, Y/N,” he whispered, equally as breathy as you, if not more. He didn't bother a glance over your shoulder to check, though, keeping his eyes on you as if you were a tiger preparing to pounce on him at any second.

The student grabbed her things and huffed out the door. As soon as the thing was shut, you pulled the blinds totally shut and detangled yourself from Spencer completely, giving yourself a wide berth after bringing yourself so close.

You hadn't realized how long and pretty his eyelashes were until you forced yourself to look at him, how nice his eyes were. The image of them burned into your brain - jealousy, probably. Men always had the best natural eyelashes. It was incredibly unfair.

“What the fuck was that?” You whispered, trying to contain your laugh as you knew the walls here were anything but soundproof.

“Shh,” he hissed, his ear pressed to the door as he listened to the remaining undergrads outside start talking. They obviously hadn't got the memo.

“Is this an official FBI strategy?” You teased.

“Shut up, would you? They're talking about us.”

You found yourself all of a sudden pressed against the door next to him, trying to listen in on the conversation outside.

“So it's true? He's really screwing her?” You slapped a hand over your mouth, both from shock and to stop the hysterical laugh bubbling up in your chest from jumping out. The girl sounded distraught. She sounded absolutely heartbroken. "The coffees every morning were suspicious, and they're always in the office so wrapped up with each other, but I didn't think they were seriously screwing."

“No wonder she was giving us dirty looks earlier,” the other girl whispered back.

“I heard he got her the job here. Pulled some strings, you know. And then, when it didn't look so suspicious, he started and asked for the shared office.”

“Gross! Total nepo hire!”

“No, Tiff, Nepo is when your parents get you the job. What she's doing is just called being a whore.”

Your mouth grew dry, and you pushed back off the wall, suddenly uninterested in anything else the girls had to say.

“Y/N…” Spencer took a sympathetic step your way, offering you an awkward smile as you started busying yourself organizing books.

“Nothing I haven't heard before, Spencer, don't bother,” you said, throwing some papers into your briefcase and keeping your hands moving.

“Though I will say they're getting more creative with their back stories since I have been working here half a year longer than you.”

He watched you work around the office, picking up items and tidying them away as you made a line of tidiness through the chaos of your desk.

“Do you think they all think that?” You asked, curiosity somehow piqued.

“That I got you the job?”

“That we’re screwing,” you said, finally turning to face him.

But the movement was a mistake - you hadn't heard him step closer, so as you turned his face was directly in front of yours, his nose practically touching your own as he looked down at you. It was enough so that the sharp intake of breath you took smelt like him, like he'd wrapped himself around your body and kept you there.

“Do you think they think we're screwing?” He asked, meaning to move away, or at least give you the space for you to do so.

“It doesn't matter to me what other people think,” you smiled up at him. “Because I wouldn't touch you with a tensed foot pole.”

You're thinking about the comment well into the evening, right until the moment your head hits the pillow.

You're thinking about the way his eyes dropped to your lips when you said those words, how he stepped closer and closer until you were backed up against the door.

“You were fine touching me earlier, Y/N. What is it now that makes it unappealing?” He whispered into your ear.

A hand came to your waist as your breath hitched.

“Is it the goosebumps I leave on your skin?” His hand pressed harder as it rose up to your chest. You gasped as he took one of your breasts in his hand, fondling it.

“Is it the way your heart beats uncomfortably hard when I'm close?”

His hand dropped again, falling down the plains of your stomach until he was stroking along the top of your pants, begging for entry.

“Or is it the way I make your cunt wet? It must be so hard pretending to hate me when you want my fingers stuffed inside of you.”

You gasped, but your tongue suddenly didn't work, as he slipped past your pants and his fingers were suddenly on your underwear, grinding the pads of his fingers against your slick pussy.

“You dont have to answer, I think I can tell just from feeling this. Shit, Y/N, I could probably slip into you right now with no resistance,” his fingers pushed inside of you as you gripped his arm for support. It was stronger than you expected, rigid as he tensed his arm.

You let him use your body, aware of your soft sighs and moans as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

His hands were inside you, then they pulled out, and somewhere in between his fingers and his cock filling you, you'd been pressed against the bookshelf, facing it and grabbing at the shelves for stability as he made good on his promise and pushed right into you without a care in the world.

“Spenc-Spencer, the books-”

“You know the books aren't a problem, Y/N,” he groaned into your ear as he pumped deep inside of you.

But the books were a problem, and they fell to the floor with each rough thrust, vibrating as they landed.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buz-

Your eyes shot open the next day, and you jolted out of your slumber, a pillow between your legs as you tried to find your release squirming and humping against it. You reached out for your vibration phone alarm, switching it off quickly to avoid the memory of those falling books from your fast fading dream.

Spencer hadn't touched you in that office. He'd taken your comment at face value and let you leave for your class, but it had stuck in your head.

You'd spent the entire night thinking about his hands on you, and you were entirely uncomfortable with the conclusion you were drawing.

Because now, you supposed, you'd quite enjoy the idea of Spencer Reid touching you wherever he damn well pleased.

🔖@stillhere197 @understandingsunrise

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shellshocklove · 3 days

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does anyone know where the love of god goes? | joel miller

pairing/AU: joel miller x female!reader – post breakout & no ellie AU

summary: crossing the country alone as he searches for his brother, joel stumbles on a farm. winter is closing in, and against his better judgement he's convinced to stay. as the frost covers the land like a blanket, a warmth ignites in his heart for the young woman who's home he finds himself in.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so minors dni!!! canon-typical violence, age gap (reader is mid to late twenties), swearing, dead animals, joel being a sad man, masturbation, no use of y/n

a/n: i soft launched this ao3 last month and it flopped lol so i'm gonna keep my expectations low for this series. anyways this has been a story i've been thinking about since probably october. this is the first part of what i'm hoping will be 3 parts. happy reading i guess

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3 / playlist

The leaves rustled against Joel’s boots with every step he took. The sun had turned traitor cold, and he couldn’t feel its kiss against his cheek no more. The trees shivered above him in the wind – the only sound for miles except his heavy steps.

Did he still exist, with no one around? Joel had never minded being alone; after the breakout he’d found that he sometimes preferred it. People could be… well, when you’ve seen the worst of humanity, maybe it’s best to leave it behind.

And wasn’t he the worst of humanity? The things he’d done. The people he’d killed, and killed for. The people he’d lost.

But he had to keep going. For Tess. He promised.

Every night as he stared into the flames his thoughts would drift to her – the memories flickering in the fire. They should’ve never gone through that museum – it was supposed to have been empty – they should’ve never left Boston in the first place. Now Tess is gone because of him, him and his stupid plan to find his brother.

And for what? How is he ever gonna find Tommy?

Joel didn’t even know where he was. Nebraska? South-Dakota? Maybe he’d made it to Wyoming and just didn’t know it? Abe had told him ‘Cody Tower’, but Joel hadn’t seen anything other than mother nature for weeks.

Everything had started to look the same. Trees and more trees, a mountain in the distance, a grey and heavy sky above him. He’d been walking for forever. Slowly he moved west– or at least he thought he was. On the days where the sun hung high in the sky and wasn’t shielded behind a cloudy partition, he liked to watch it as it dipped below the earth. As the days turned shorter and shorter, the display of color had started to get more vivid. Joel would watch the light blue turn red and bloody, fiery tongues of flames licking over the horizon while the sharp edges of the mountains, and the triangular shapes of the trees faded into an intense black– like the shape of the mountain and the trees had been cut out with scissors. There wasn’t much to stay alive for anymore– but Joel lived for those few moments where nature painted with fire. Humanity might’ve gone to shit, but the cyclical regularity of mother nature gave Joel a small sense of peace.

But he missed the kiss of the sun against his cheek now. He’d moved into a large forest a few days ago. Tall trees hovered over him like giants and cast shadows down at him. It was colder here than out in the open country, but at least he’d been somewhat shaded from the rain pouring from the grey cover above his head the last few days.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The sound stopped Joel in his tracks. Muscle memory worked on its own, gripping the shotgun slung over his shoulder. He listened for the sound again, to the steady rhythm echoing through the forest.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

With slow calculated steps Joel walked in the direction of the sound with the shotgun held tightly to his chest, his finger hovered over the trigger. The chopping sound got louder as he closed in on a man. He couldn’t tell his age with the man’s back turned – but he was strong – Joel could tell from how hard the man’s axe hit the tree trunk.

Taking another silent step, Joel got in position, “How ‘bout you slowly turn around and place that axe on the ground.”

Joel’s voice was hoarse after no use, but still cold and calculated as he spoke his order. He could see he’d startled the man, probably thinking he was alone, just like Joel had thought mere minutes ago.

The man obeyed, turning around slowly. He was older than Joel, maybe mid-seventies, maybe older if the wrinkles and creases around his eyes and nose were to be believed. His hair was white as snow matching his unkempt beard. Joel caught his eye. Strong and steady, no trace of fear one would think a man would feel while having a gun pointed at them.

Joel’s grip around the gun tightened. He wasn’t afraid to pull the trigger if that’s where this was headed. The man watched him calmly before he bent his knees, throwing the axe haphazardly on the ground.

“Kick it over here,” Joel commanded again, and the man obeyed, kicking the axe clumsily towards Joel.

Slowly Joel crept closer, gun still pointed at the man. He locked the heel of his shoe against the shaft, dragging the axe behind him and out of the way.

“Hands where I can see ‘em.”

“Are you going to kill me, son?”

The man’s question puzzled Joel. He said it so calmly, like how you’d ask someone to pass the salt.

“That depends on you.” Joel’s answer pulled at the old man’s lips, a small huff of a laugh escaping them.

“Well, you’re the one with the gun. I think it depends on you.”

Joel tightened his grip on the shotgun again – he didn’t know why –to frighten the man? He didn’t seem very frightened.

“Are you alone?” Joel asked.

“Not anymore,” the man answered.

“Don’t be a smartass,” Joel gritted through his teeth, “who you travelin’ with?”

“No one,” the man’s eyes never left Joel, “I live at a farm about a mile away.”

“Take me to it.”

The man walked with a limp Joel noticed. It was barely there, you wouldn’t see it if you didn’t pay attention, but it was there. The man acted tough enough, but his body revealed his weaknesses. It would be easy to kill him, Joel thought, if it came to that.

He followed the man through the trees with his gun pointed at his back. When they reached the end of the forest a clearing revealed itself. They followed a path through a field of, tall but wilted, brown grass until they reached an overgrown gravel road with a fence running along it. Looking out in the distance, Joel could see small spots of white and black wool. The gravel moaned under their feet as they closed in on a small farm. A two-story house sat in the middle of the barnyard where it was surrounded by a barn who’d seen better days, a silo, and a smaller farmhouse – a stable – Joel noticed as they walked closer.

The man trudged up the front stairs of the main farmhouse, a hand on the handrail keeping him steady.

“Put that gun away would you, son? I don’t want you frightening my wife.” The man broke the silence between them, speaking for the first time since they left the woods.

Joel’s grip on his shotgun didn’t loosen. How could he be sure that this man’s ‘wife’ wasn’t some gang of raiders hiding behind the front door? A question he asked the man through gritted teeth when he turned around to look at Joel.

“There’s nothing of the sort around here,” the man said, “we don’t even see any infected.”

When Joel didn’t say anything, and didn’t lower the gun, the man spoke again, “Who are you?”

“Just someone passin’ through,” Joel answered, making the man chuckle.

“You’re something else, passer-througher,” the old man smiled before he turned around again and stepped inside, leaving Joel on the porch alone.

Abandoned outside he lowered his gun slightly. Inside he could hear muffled voices, a deeper one, definitely the old man, and a brighter one, a woman’s voice. He listened, trying to make out their words with no prevail. The man seemed to have spoken the truth up until now. He most definitely lived on this farm – a seemingly normal farm. This man was just someone making an honest living – even after the apocalypse.

Lowering the gun completely, Joel put the safety on before he slung it over his shoulder. Taking a hollowed step towards the front door, movement in the window to the right of him caught his eye. It was there and then it was gone – just a ruffle of blonde curtains. Then, the door opened revealing an elderly woman.

The man’s wife.

“Welcome, traveler,” she greeted, stepping aside to let Joel in.

He passed through the doorway with a “Thank you, ma’am,” never forgetting his manners even after pointing a gun at her husband.

Inside it looked like a picture taken straight out of a Homes & Gardens magazine. The house was cozy, but it was small. He’d been welcomed into what probably used to be a parlor, but now served its purpose as their living room. It was hard to get a read on the house. Not like those open-floor plan houses he’d built too many of back before the outbreak – this was old, maybe hundreds of years old. The floorboard creaked under his shoes as he walked deeper into the living room, the rest of the house locked away like a secret behind three closed doors. The man was seated in a lounge chair by the fireplace, watching Joel with an expression Joel found it hard to decipher.

“Would you like some tea?” the woman asked, “It’s peppermint from our garden.”

Joel turned his head to the woman. She must be around the same age as the old man, Joel thought. He cleared his throat before he answered with a nod, “Thank you, ma’am.”

She pointed to the sofa, urging him to sit down with a smile before she disappeared through one of the doors to what Joel thought must be the kitchen. He felt the old man watching him as he slid his backpack off his shoulders, placing it on the creaky wooden floor behind the sofa. Joel hesitated for just a second when placing the shotgun up against the back, but decided he wasn’t in any imminent danger.

Joel almost groaned as he sat down. He’d been walking for so long, slept on the hard ground for months, he’d almost forgotten what a comfortable chair was. It almost felt surreal, being invited in for tea, like the outbreak had never happened. Here, it was like the time had stood still.

“So,” the man started, “where are you heading to if you’re just ‘passin’ through’?”

Joel cleared his throat again, “I’m lookin’ for my brother,” he answered truthfully, “last I heard he was somewhere in Wyoming.”

“If you’re going to Wyoming, then what you’re doing all the way up here?” The man queried with a chuckle.

Annoyed, Joel grinded his teeth, “Not many signs in the fuckin’ woods are there?” He huffed.

“I guess not,” the man shrugged, “but you’ve made a heck of a detour… where did you come from? Texas? You sound it.”

“Boston.”

“Boston?” the man didn’t hide his surprise, breathing out chuckles in disbelief, “I’ll give it to you, that’s one long trip.”

Joel only huffed in agreement, turning his head from the man to the window overlooking the barnyard.

“Well,” the man broke the growing silence between the two men, “you’re more than welcome to stay for dinner and for the night– you look like you could need a hot meal and a warm bed.”

Joel’s instinct was to say no, but before he could the front door opened, revealing a young woman. You.

You stopped dead in your tracks as you laid your eyes on Joel, “Oh!”.

The door slammed behind you. Under your arm you were carrying a metal bucket filled with apples. You were beautiful, young, but still beautiful – Joel couldn’t deny it.

“This is…” The man paused.

“Joel.” He cleared his throat, introducing himself, “Joel Miller.”

“Mr. Miller is just passing through– he’s looking for his brother,” the old man explained to you.

You nodded at the information, sat the bucket down before you reached out a hand for Joel to take, introducing yourself. Your hand in his was warm and soft while his own dwarfed yours, rough and calloused. He couldn’t help but think about what his hands had done, the people they’d killed. He shouldn’t be tainting yours, painting them red. Joel quickly drew his hand back, balling it into a fist at his side.

Joel looked over at the old man, “Your daughter?” he asked with a tilt of his head in your direction.

“Oh, no,” the man answered with a playful smile, “You’re not the first person ‘passin’ through’ who’s shown up on our doorstep.”

The door to the kitchen opened to reveal the old woman with a teapot in her hand, and a stacked tower of teacups in the other.

“Let me help you Alma,” you said, taking the teacups from the old woman’s hand before placing them on the table; one in front of Joel, a second in front of the old man, “Here you go Arthur,” and a third next to Joel.

“Did you also want some tea, sweetie?” Alma asked you as she placed the steaming teapot on the table.

“Yes, please, but I can grab a cup myself– sit down,” you smiled and padded the old woman’s shoulder, then you grabbed the bucket of apples and disappeared into the kitchen.

Alma started pouring the tea as a silence fell over the room. A small, “Thank you, ma’am,” left Joel’s lips as she moved on to pouring tea for her husband.

“So,” the man started before taking a sip of his tea, “what do you say Mr. Miller? You staying for the night?”

That night as he laid in a real bed for the first time in months, Joel had trouble falling asleep. He wasn’t used to this. Hadn’t been used to it for a while. His belly full, soft fabric against his skin, feeling warm, and clean. The old couple had offered him one of the two bedrooms on the first floor, the two mystery doors in the living room now revealed. Laying in his new bed he tried not to think about who he was sharing a wall with.

You.

You were something else, helpful and kind. Everything Joel hadn’t seen since the outbreak. At the dinner table you’d asked him questions and listened intently – even when his answers were short and brisk. There was a glimmer in your eye, and it touched something inside him he hadn’t felt in a long time. But you were young, mid to late twenties he reckoned, maybe a little older– anyways, he shouldn’t be harboring anything for you, it wouldn’t be right. Especially now, now that he’d agreed to stay.

After the dinner plates had been cleared, Arthur had folded a big map out on the table. “Here are we now,” he’d pointed a finger at the map. Montana. Southern Montana to be precise. “I’ll give it to you Mr. Miller, if you’ve made it this far on your own you probably won’t have any trouble making your way down south to Wyoming.”

“But?” Joel watched the grimace pulling at the old man’s face.

“But,” Arthur had said, “Winter is just around the corner and… well, going back out there in the wilderness alone during our winters is a dead trap, I’ll tell you that much.”

Joel had let the man go on about the far below freezing temperatures, the heavy snow, and the tough wind, but Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew the winters up here were harsh. It wasn’t even winter yet, but every day he’d felt the temperature drop lower and lower, and the last few of nights he’d even had to get a fire going, against his better judgement.

So– the deal was: Joel would stay over the winter. Just for the winter, he’d been adamant on not staying longer. He’d get a place to stay, a warm bed to sleep in, and food in his belly on one condition – he’d help out on the farm.

The fire crackled loudly, red tongues licking up the chimney as Joel fed it another log. He watched as the fire caught in the new log, devouring it quickly and with no mercy. It was really starting to heat up now. A small flicker of pride sparked in Joel chest. He’d always been good at building a fire. It was one of those things, Joel had come to learn, where you needed to pay attention, to have patience.

When he was younger, he’d take Tommy out camping sometimes, just the two of them. Mostly they’d go during the summer; Tommy wasn’t a fan of sleeping outside in the cold, though cold had meant something different back then in Texas. But Joel remembered one time he’d managed to convince him to go with him. It was right after he’d gotten his driver’s license, and his parents had given him a beat-up truck for his birthday – for sharing – they’d told him, “You need to give your little brother a ride when he needs it!” Joel wasn’t exactly thrilled about his future as Tommy’s private driver, but it didn’t mean he didn’t love his brother.

A few weeks into October he’d managed to convince Tommy to go camping. They’d packed the truck with their tents, sleeping bags, and fishing equipment, before they’d gotten on the road, driving to a lake where they knew there were fish to catch. Finding a place to camp was always difficult with Tommy. They’d parked Joel’s truck at the edge of the forest before they’d followed a hiking trail. Joel was convinced they’d walked at least three quarters of the way around the lake before they found a spot good enough for Tommy.

It had to be flat, but also shielded. There couldn’t be too many rocks, but there also had to be enough rocks to build a hearth. Tommy wanted it to be private, but he also wanted it to be open enough that he could see if someone would stumble upon their camp. Joel knew not to argue with him when he got like that, opting instead for a defeated, “Whatever.”

Setting up camp went relatively easy. They’d worked together building the tents, collecting rocks for their fireplace, and even managed to find a fallen tree to use as a bench. When the night slowly started to cover them in darkness, Tommy decided to get the fire going. Joel watched him work the logs into a pile as he started on filleting the fish they’d just caught.

“You’re doin’ it wrong,” he’d told his brother, “You’re suffocatin’ it.” He’d washed his hands in the lake, ridding himself of the slimy smell of fish, before crouching down next to Tommy.

The fire was one big bowl of smoke, and Joel caught himself wondering what messages Tommy must’ve been sending to the heavens. He removed some of the heavier logs, and the fire could breathe.

“See?” he’d looked at Tommy, “It just needed air.” Joel had shifted the smaller pieces of wood around and not long after the fire was alive.

That Joel, that green boy who liked to take his little brother camping, that Joel didn’t know how much those skills would come in handy in a few years when the world would get turned upside down.

“Do you have any mittens, Joel?”

Your question pulled Joel from his memories. He turned his head slightly, meeting your gaze from where you were huddled up in the corner of the couch. You looked cozy, but he knew you weren’t. The house was cold this morning, outside a thin layer of frost had stuck to the grass during the night. It was early too, the sun not having climbed high enough yet to peek over the mountains. You looked tired where you sat, clad in a wool sweater with a blanket pulled over your knees. Under the blanket Joel remembered you were still wearing your pajama pants, and in your hand you held a steaming cup of tea, peppermint, Joel knew, his own cup abandoned on the coffee table.

“What?” Joel answered, eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you have any mittens, Joel?” you repeated softly, like the way people tended to speak in the mornings, like they were afraid they’d wake up the world.

His calves were starting to burn from the strain of being crouched in front of the fireplace for a moment too long, and he tried his best to hide his groan, biting his teeth together as he stood to his feet, knees cracking loudly.

“Um, no,” he said, confused about your question.

“I’ll knit you a pair then,” you smiled before putting your cup down next to his.

“That’s… that ain’t necessary,” Joel hurried, but you waved him off.

“Sure it is,” you smiled again, much to Joel’s annoyance. He didn’t deserve your kindness, but you gave it away like it cost nothing. “If you’re gonna be helping Arthur out in the woods this winter, you need some mittens.”

Joel watched as you got up from your home on the couch and vanished into your bedroom. A moment later you appeared in the doorway with a basket under your arm.

“Also…” you gave him another smile as you sat back down again, placing the basket in your lap. It was close to overflowing with yarn, balls of black and white in varying sizes peeking over the top, the homespun ends fraying against the rough edges of the basket. “I’ll have something to do during the evenings,” you winked before you rummaged through the basket and fished out a measuring tape.

Joel shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he watched you. Mittens? Joel can’t remember if he’s ever owned a pair of mittens. Gloves, sure, but mittens?

You patted the cushion next to you, urging him to sit down, kind smile hanging off your lips like always. Sitting down, he folded his hands in his lap, suddenly very aware of how close you were sitting. It wasn’t like he hadn’t sat next to you before; he’d been here a few weeks now, and he was starting to know you, but for some reason, this felt different. Maybe it was the early morning, the quiet house, or the fact that Alma and Arthur were still sleeping upstairs, but it felt like it was just the two of you, alone, and Joel didn’t know how to feel about it.

You shifted towards him, the blanket slipping slightly off the couch with your movement, in your hands you held the measuring tape while you looked at him expectantly.

When Joel didn’t move, a smile quirked at the corner of your mouth before you grabbed one of his hands resting in his lap. You uncurled his fingers slowly, one by one, making Joel hold his breath.

“I need to see how big I need to make them,” you whispered, holding his hand very gently.

Joel’s heart hammered in his chest. Your hand was warm and soft, like the last time he’d touched you as you’d introduced yourself to him. Joel didn’t dare look at your face, or he’d say something stupid, so he didn’t. He looked at your joined hands, his brain trying to remember the last time someone had held his hand as gently as you did, your thumb running over the back of it soothingly.

He can’t remember. His hands are always empty.

With your other hand, a finger curled around the measuring tape, you slipped it around his wrist before leaning closer to look at the numbers.

“Is this too tight you think, or do you want them to be looser?” You asked through your lashes, eyes sparkling in the low morning light.

Joel cleared his throat, “No, that’s fine.”

“Okay,” you nodded, slipping the measuring tape from his wrist to write down the measurement. He hadn’t noticed your notebook until now. It was a little rough around the edges from use, the spined cracked and the paper a little yellow. Placing the pen in the seam, you grabbed the measuring tape again.

Loosening your grip on his hand you placed it over the thick of your thigh. Joel drew a quick breath, his heartbeat hammering in his ears, under his hand he could feel the warmth of you through the soft flannel.

You continued taking your measurements. You didn’t say anything, so neither did Joel, but you looked up at him through your lashes sometimes, and Joel thought that maybe the most useful thing one can do with empty hands, is hold on.

The creak of the stair made Joel jump, and like he’d been burned his hand retracted on reflex, as Arthur’s heavy steps got closer.

“Morning,” Arthur greeted as he ducked his head through the door to the living room.

“Mornin’,” Joel mumbled, head lowered as he gathered his hands in his lap.

“Good morning!” you smiled, always with that kind smile, “Did you sleep well, Arthur?” you got up from your seat before grabbing your teacup to follow Arthur into the kitchen, leaving the yarn and Joel.

Taking a deep breath, Joel pinched the top of his nose. He needed to get it together. You were just being your regular kind self; your soft touch was nothing more than that. Standing to his feet, Joel grabbed his own cup, trudging into the kitchen.

In the kitchen Arthur sat in his usual spot at the dining table, the chair closest to the window. “I need to get on with this barn soon,” Joel heard him say as he sat down opposite him. “It’s gonna fall apart come spring if we get as much snow as we did last year.”

Joel tried his best not to look at you as he heard you hum. You were stood at the kitchen counter slicing the bread Alma had baked yesterday, readying breakfast. Instead, Joel opted to gaze down into his teacup, where the peppermint leaves had all gathered at the bottom.

“Um,” Joel cleared his throat, “what needs fixin’?”

“What doesn’t need fixing in that barn?” Arthur sighed, peeling his eyes from out the window to Joel.

“I can uh,” Joel eyes shifted quickly to you before he cleared his throat again, “I can take a look at it, if ya want?”

Arthur’s eyebrows met in a furrow as he looked at Joel.

“I used to be a contractor,” Joel explained with a shrug, before taking a last cold sip of his tea.

“So, you know a thing or two about buildings I reckon?” Arthur asked.

“Yeah, well I used to,” Joel leaned back in his chair.

“Well, that would be very helpful Joel– I’d appreciated it!” Arthur smiled before leaning back in his chair making room for you as you started setting the table. Joel gave him a short nod in return, trying to fight the urge to look at you as you placed the food on the table.

Arthur had downplayed the state of the barn – it was a mess – it was dangerous, and had Joel told him as much. But it was nothing Joel couldn’t fix, as long as he had the right supplies, fortunately for him the forest would provide them with what they needed.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The axe dug a deep wound into the bark with every swing. Joel’s breath was heavy, and his arms ached, but it was a welcomed form of tiredness. A month into it, he was starting to get used to the work. There was something so satisfying about manual labor, of using his hands, of making something – he’d almost forgotten.

The routine of the work felt good. Waking up at dawn, then breakfast, he could use his body for something useful for the first time in twenty years and end the day with a warm meal for supper. This new temporary life was simple, but it was strangely normal.

Originally, Joel was only helping Arthur out in the woods for firewood through the winter– but now with the barn, they’d changed course. The last few days they’d started to become more selective with the trees; looking for the tallest and straightest ones that would fall safely.

A frozen sky hovered over the men as they worked. This morning when Joel had woken up, the thinnest layer of snow had fallen like powdered sugar during the night, turning the world bright with winter. Earlier in the week the frost had perched on the farm, and Joel had known winter was closing in. He’d lost count of the days and months passing while on his own, but Arthur had told him it was late October.

“It will start snowing properly soon,” Arthur said, breaking the silence between them.

Joel hummed before taking a bite of his packed lunch. They’d worked all morning – Joel felling the trees and Arthur cleaning them up and removing the branches. Now they were sat on a fresh tree stump each, their first break of the day.

“I have an old logging sled in the barn– used to be my father’s,” Arthur explained, “I think we should leave the trees here until the snow gets deep enough for the sled and have the horses pull them back to the farm.”

“Fine by me,” Joel took another bite of his lunch.

“The logs will have to dry out over the winter,” Arthur mused, “Then come spring we can start the repairs on the barn.”

Spring. If everything goes according to plan, Joel won’t be here come spring. He needed to find Tommy– he couldn’t, and he wasn’t gonna stay on the farm for any longer than necessary. He’d already decided– when the snow finally started to melt, Joel was gone.

Joel hummed, a non-committed answer. It was easier that way, to not get Arthur’s hopes up. He liked Arthur, he was a good man, a hard worker even in his old age, and silent when Joel wanted him to be. Joel liked Alma too, but her age shined through more easily than Arthur’s. Joel couldn’t help but notice her repeating herself more often and forgetting where she put things. It made life harder for you, Joel could see it. Your responsibilities were already a lot to handle as you took care of the animals mostly by yourself, but as Joel had discovered Alma starting to struggle with the housework, he’d noticed you starting to help her more often. In Joel’s mind it was unfair to you, but it wasn’t like he could blame Alma for growing older, in this world it was a feat.

Still, he’d try his best to help you when he could, like doing the dishes after dinner as you dried them off and put them away. The first few times you were both quiet, it was strangely intimate, only the sound of splashing water filling the space between you. One night he'd gotten brave, breaking the comfortable silence and asked you ‘What you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?’ You’d looked at him with big eyes, searching his own for something, but before he could figure out what it was, you’d answered him with a shrug. It was unlike you, unlike you to be this silent, but Joel didn’t push. The next night the silence persisted, and he’d thought adding ‘Sweetheart’ had been too much, but then the next night you’d sighed quietly and whispered, “I’m worried about Alma.”

Looking down at the mittens in his lap, the guilt gnawed at him. The look of worry in your eyes, Arthur’s hopeful wishes, and Alma’s aging. Joel couldn’t have anything tying him to this place. He was supposed to find his brother.

Suddenly, a black and orange butterfly landed on Joel’s knee. Joel stopped breathing, body going rigid as he tried not to move. How the hell was this butterfly still alive? It sat quiet on his knee, wings slowly retracting and widening behind it. Memories pushed its way to the forefront of Joel’s mind then.

Sarah. Another year had gone by, and the thought made his chest tighten.

“That’s quite a sight at this time of year,” he heard Arthur say, “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Y-yeah,” Joel stammered out an answer, afraid his voice would scare it away.

The longer Joel watched the butterfly he found his guilt started to slowly melt away. It’s okay, dad. It was like the rustling of the trees carried her voice with them. You’re on the right path.

“I can do that f’you want, sweetheart.”

Joel’s boots creaked under him as he walked across the barnyard. You looked up at the sound of his voice, smile blossoming across your face as you tightened your grip on the shovel.

“It’s alright,” you said with a grunt as you picked up more snow, adding it to the growing pile, “Good for me to get some physical work in.”

Joel nodded as you straightened up, hand going to your hip while the other leaned on the shovel, your heavy breath curled in small plumes out of your mouth. You took him in for a second, eyes flickering over his form before they fell on the rabbits hanging over Joel’s shoulder.

“Where’d you get those?” you asked, and Joel shrugged.

“Shot ‘em,” he said simply, “they walked right by me as I was choppin’– seemed too good to pass up.”

“Not for the rabbits,” you muttered, and Joel had to fight the urge to smile.

“You a vegetarian or somethin’?” he asked with a single raised eyebrow, and you waved him off.

“No,” you said pointedly, but a teasing lilt lingered, “Just stating a fact... we don’t eat a lot of rabbit around here, is all.”

Joel nodded slightly; it made sense. He knew there was a gun in the house, but it was a revolver– too small to do any real hunting, and Joel didn’t even know if there were bullets for it. So, Joel didn't ask further. Lucky for him, you did.

“So, you just shot those?” you asked, a frown pulling at your eyebrows, “Aren’t they fast?”

Joel made a nonchalant sort of face. “Ain’t that hard when you can aim straight.”

“Well, how do you aim straight?”

“You learn to shoot.”

You let out a small laugh, one that pulled at Joel’s lips. “And how did you go about learning that?”

Joel felt his smile drop, the leather strap of his shotgun weighing heavy on his shoulder, “Practice.”

You didn’t seem to notice the change in his demeanor as you dug the shovel into the snow, so it stood by itself like a watchman. “Can you teach me?” you asked, the snow creaking under your shoes as you took a few steps closer.

His lips pulled at the corner, “No.”

Your eyes widened with disappointment, eyebrows pulling together in a frown as you asked, “Why?”

“Nothin’ good ever comes from it,” Joel shrugged.

“Okay,” you huffed a laugh, “that’s sinister.” Then you narrowed your eyes at him, gearing up for an argument no doubt with the way you rested your hand on your hip. “What if I also wanted to go hunting?” you posed, and Joel shook his head.

“That ain’t happenin’, sweetheart.”

“Okay, but now you’ve brought us rabbits– and what if I end up really liking rabbit?” you bit down on your bottom lip, unconsciously showing off you own rabbit teeth.

Cute.

“Then I’ll shoot as many rabbits as you want,” Joel countered with a teasing smile before tightening his hold on the rope slung over his other shoulder (the one he’d tied the rabbits to), and walked towards the kitchen door at the back of the farmhouse.

He heard you huff in defeat behind him, your creaky steps following him up the stairs and inside. Walking into the kitchen Joel placed the rabbits on the table before he pulled at his mittens, stripped off his jacket, and hung it neatly over the back of one of the dining chairs. Grabbing one of the rabbits he brought it to the kitchen counter to start dressing it, fighting the urge to turn his head as he heard you enter the room.

“Come on, Joel,” you whined, “Why won’t you teach me?”

“Told you already,” Joel replied, “Nothin’ good comes from learnin’ to shoot things.”

Shifting the rabbit around on the counter he reached for the butcher knife in the knife block.

“You know, that’s a really stupid way of saying you don’t want to spend the time,” you told him, your voice closer now as you leaned against the kitchen counter.

“When exactly did ya hear me sayin’ I don't wanna spend time with you?” Joel asked, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

“You won’t teach me to shoot,” you teased, and Joel could hear the smile in your voice.

Joel huffed out a laugh, “Damn right I won’t.”

He heard you let out a whiney huff, before you turned on your heel, muttering out a curse under your breath when you accidently bumped your hip into the counter and Joel couldn’t help the smile teasing at his lips. You sat down with an overdramatic sigh, and Joel still didn’t look at you – he knew he’d cave eventually if he did, say yes against his better judgement – so he kept his eyes on the knife in his hand.

“How’s Arthur?” Joel asked as he worked.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, “The same I think– Alma was up there looking after him last time I checked.”

This time Joel allowed himself to look at you. You sat sideways on the wooden chair, legs crossed and tucked under your chair with your head hanging, eyes glued to your lap. Gone were the teasing, and gone were the smiles.

“He’ll be fine,” Joel said, his eyes back on the rabbit, “it’s just a cold.”

“Yeah… but he’s been getting sick a lot more often,” your voice was low, like you didn’t want them to hear you upstairs, “you can’t help but think the worst you know?”

Joel put the knife down and moved over to the sink. He quickly washed his hands before grabbing a towel to dry off, twisting it in his hands as he approached you. Placing the towel on the counter, he hesitated for a moment as he watched you, watched the way you twisted your hands in your lap with no sense of purpose or intent. It was like the worry dripped down your body. Pushing off the counter Joel knelt in front of you, a grunt escaped him as his knees clicked loudly, his balance slightly off on his haunches.

“Shit,” Joel huffed out a laugh, and you followed. Your palms landed on his knees to keep him steady, warmth spreading like jolting electricity.

“Sweetheart, I’ll tell you what–” he stopped himself when you looked at him through your lashes, trying to ignore the way your eyes focused on his mouth as he spoke. “’s just a cold, he’ll be up ‘n walkin’ tomorrow– man’s got gumption.”

“Yeah?” your eyes flickered upwards, meeting his.

Suddenly, under your gaze Joel felt brave. His hand moved on its own accord, cupping your cheek in his hand. He let his thumb ghost over your skin, still cold under his fingertips from being outside, but warming under his touch.

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, you only watched him with glimmering eyes, like you were under a spell. Maybe he was too.

“Still,” you sighed, “Would be better if I could pick up more of the slack around here... Arthur does a lot, and I wish I could do more to support them.”

“Like what? You take care of the animals all by yourself– that’s more than enough.”

“Well, I could learn to shoot rabbits,” you told him, before the corners of your mouth pulled into a pleased smirk as he rolled his eyes at you.

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away, making a move to stand when you grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“I’m kidding, Joel,” you smiled, before a more serious look washed over your features. “I mean it’s… It’s gonna be empty here without you,” you said, “I’m starting to really like having you here, Joel.”

Joel turned his hand to rest the back of it on your thigh, your hand fitting in his.

“I uh,” his eyes fixated on your joined hands, then he cleared his throat, “I’ll stay as long as you need me to. I’m not leavin’ you alone, sweetheart.”

Your eyes lit up at his words, smile growing large across your face. Joel’s heart drummed in his chest as your eyes flickered down to his mouth again.

“Thank you,” you said in a low voice, and then you did something Joel thought was gonna make his heart stop beating. You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. It bloomed against his skin, and made wings flutter against the walls of his stomach.

“You’re a good man, Joel Miller,” you whispered before you pulled away, looking at him with kindness in your eyes.

If only you knew, Joel thought, if only you knew the blood on his hands.

He couldn’t look at you when you looked at him like that. Like you believed your own words. So, he cleared his throat awkwardly and stood to his feet, his knees clicking as your hand slipped from his movement. He walked back to the counter, fingers grabbing the towel with no other purpose than to calm himself down.

After placing the towel back where it usually hung, he grabbed the knife again, turning his attention back to the rabbit, allowing himself to steal a few glances at you where you sat looking out the kitchen window.

“Hey, uh,” Joel broke the growing silence after a few minutes, “how ‘bout rabbit stew for lunch?”

Your head snapped to look at him as he spoke, a smile ghosting over your lips as you said, “I’ll go get some vegetables from the cellar.”

Joel wouldn’t necessarily call himself a good cook – he wouldn’t even call himself a cook in the first place. Back before the outbreak he’d been forced to learn the basics as a fresh single dad, but he’d never been able to provide Sarah with gourmet meals very often, and when Sarah had gotten older, he’d been embarrassed to say that her food was always better than his – eggshells and all. One summer he’d bought himself a nice grill– one of those way too expensive gas grills with too many fancy accessories for Joel to regularly use. He’d had a job that ended up paying well, some rich guy’s mansion that needed renovating, and decided to treat himself for once. That summer all their meals had come from that grill, well mostly, and afterwards Joel looked at himself as a pretty good griller, if nothing else.

You on the other hand, you knew what you were doing, it was clear in the effortlessly way you moved beside him as you got the vegetables ready for the stew. Joel seared the meat to the best of his abilities, making sure it was properly browned on both sides before setting it aside. After that, it was clear that you were in charge, and Joel let you boss him around and tell him what to do. It made his heart warm around the edges, watching how you put so much love and care into everything you did.

An hour later you finally sat down to eat; two hearty bowls of stew each as light snowflakes covered the world outside. You’d let the pot simmer on low over the heat as you’d wanted to bring up a bowl for Arthur and Alma later.

“So…” you started, watching as Joel dug into his bowl, “How’s the stew?”

“’s good!” Joel nodded through a mouthful, and he wasn’t lying. It was good, really good in fact.

“Yeah?” you bubbled through a smile, before you dug into your own bowl to see if he’d spoken the truth. He watched as you face brightened as you chewed, nodding your head to confirm his verdict.

“I think I really like rabbit, Joel,” you said through a teasing smile, and Joel couldn’t fight the chuckle from spilling.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, teasing smile not going anywhere, “So… when are you teaching me to shoot?”

“Shut up.”

The living room was quiet, safe for the cracking of the fire. It had almost died out when Joel had stepped out of his room. He’d been twisting and turning again, counting sheep, but nothing had been able to pull him under the blanket of sleep. He was plumb tired too, that was the worst part. The embers hummed with a low light, and with a small stick Joel had spread them out before placing a small piece of wood on top. No less than a minute later the fire fed on the log.

Taking a seat and leaning back in the lounge chair, Joel looked out the window with tired eyes. The moon looked down on him, big and bright, it shone its white light over the barnyard like a spotlight. His thoughts were clouded over as he gazed up. A billion little lights turning into bright spheres in the sky.

On nights like this, Joel felt like he was barely breathing at all.

His thoughts didn’t stray for long before they found you again. Lately, you were always on his mind. He thought about how you’d looked mere hours ago, when he’d sat in this same exact chair, only this time it was facing towards the sofa and not the window.

You’d been sat curled up in the corner, blanket thrown over your lap with a book in hand. You’d told him you’d read all the books in the house already, but it didn’t stop you from coming back to your favorites. Joel had been reading his own book, an old western he’d found in the bookshelf in the upstairs hallway a few days ago. It was entertaining, but not enough to hold his attention. He found his eyes had a mind of their own, slipping over the top to steal a peek at you as you read, feeling a smile tug at his lips at the barely there furrow of concentration between your eyebrows.

“Joel.”

Joel perked up at the whisper of his name, the memories fading like ripples in still water. He looked around the room –nothing. He sat quietly in his chair for a moment, listening, as his heartbeat quickened in his chest. It had been your voice, hadn’t it? Or was he starting to lose it? His eyes fell to the door of your bedroom. He hadn’t noticed it until now, but he could see it was slightly ajar.

“Joel.”

The voice was louder this time, almost strained, but it was yours. A thousand scenarios flashed before his eyes then at your tone. Was there someone in your room? Were you in danger? Seconds later Joel crossed the room, a mix of fear and protectiveness overcoming him.

Leaning up against your door he listened for the intruder as he readied himself. The soft crinkling of your sheets combined with your strained whimpers was all it took for him to push the door open, fearing the worst.

And…

It was empty, your room, you were alone. Joel immediately felt stupid– the only intruder here was him.

He was about to step out, embarrassed at his actions, when he heard it again, his name falling from your lips. It was all Joel needed to finally take in your body, squirming under your sheets, still asleep. The realization of what he’d just walked in on made Joel’s eyes widen.

Laying on your back, the duvet had slipped down your torso from your movements to reveal the thin t-shirt you wore to bed. Like this he could see your perked nipples through the fabric, as your chest quickly rose and fell, making Joel’s imagination start to run wild.

“Joel.”

In his pajama pants, Joel could feel his cock come alive from the soft whimper that left your lips along with his name. He couldn’t move, like some farm elf had glued his feet to the floor while he wasn’t looking. He watched as you scrunched your face together in pleasure, another whimper falling from your lips, and all the blood in Joel’s body rushed down south.

As if the soundwaves from your voice had broken against him, he took a step backwards, and then another, and another until he crossed the threshold of your door. He tried his best to be quiet, to not wake you and have you catch him in your room in the middle of the night.

The image of you squirming under your sheets, dreaming of him, didn’t leave him as he closed the door to his own room. With a sigh his head fell against the door, a strong hand gliding down his front to hover over his aching cock.

Joel Miller was no saint, but what he was doing– what he was about to do, was bad.

“Shit,” he quietly hissed, running his hand up his clothed cock. He hadn’t touched himself properly in a long time, not since he left Boston.

His cock reacted to his touch, growing harder and harder until he couldn’t take it anymore. He hooked his finger around the hem of his pajama pants, pulling them down to the thick of his thigh, freeing himself. He hissed at the cold air hitting his length, as it bopped with the movement of being freed. Bringing his hand to his mouth, Joel spat, before he wrapped his spit-soaked hand around himself.

His mind found you again as he started stroking himself, slowly at first, pumping himself with a practiced hand, squeezing himself at the base before bringing his hand up to thumb at the tip. Joel couldn’t get the way you sounded out of his mind. Couldn’t forget how you were squirming in your bed, dreaming of him. Couldn’t shake the thought of pulling those moans and whimpers from you with his hands, and his mouth, and with his cock.

“Fuck.”

Joel tried to be quiet, but he couldn’t fight the moan from slipping from his lips. Fuck, he wanted you. He wanted his hands all over you. Closing his eyes his mouth dropped open as he imagined what he was dying to do to you.

How much he’d wanted to help you out of your t-shirt, run his hands over your breasts and tease your nipples. Take his time to pull those moans and whimpers from your soft lips as he teased you with kisses down your body, down the valley of your breasts, your tummy, down to you to your–

Another low moan fell from Joel’s lips. He squeezed himself tighter as he jerked himself off, precum pearling at the tip, and slipping down his length, mixing with his spit.

The sound of the slick rhythm of his hand filled his bedroom as he increased the pace of his strokes. He had to bite down on his lip to strangle a groan when thoughts of getting between your legs, spreading them open and getting his mouth on you filled his head. He fantasized about how you’d taste falling apart on his tongue–Fuck, how you’d sound falling apart around his cock.

His eyes fell shut as he fisted himself faster. Joel could feel his orgasm quickly building, coiling tight in his tummy. With his free hand he cupped his balls, and then he couldn’t help but imagine it was you, a picture of you on your knees before him flashed behind his eyelids, your tongue lapping at his balls while your hand pumped his cock.

“Shit.”

With a strained groan, thick ropes of cum spilled over his knuckles and down his length, coating him in his release. His breath came out ragged, as he continued his strokes, milking himself of the rest of his release.

Fuck.

His cock softened in his hand as he calmed down from his high. With a quiet groan he pushed himself off the door, looking around his room for something to clean himself up with.

The guilt of what he’d done washed over him quickly, settling in his chest like a heavy weight. You were so young, and beautiful, and Joel just an old man. He shouldn’t want you like this, shouldn’t want you this much.

Climbing under the covers, Joel couldn’t shake his thoughts of you, of you dreaming about him in your bed, about your smiles, and your touch. A supercut of you rolling like a tape in his minds eye. A supercut of you bundled up under a blanket on the sofa, knitting him his mittens. Of you, your own knitted hat pulled tightly down over your ears as you stepped out into the snow to check on the animals. Of the way you’d looked at him for the first time, with the bucket of apples under your arm, and the sweet taste of them as you’d offered him one later, after dinner.

Finally, Joel could breathe.

i hope someone liked this? if you did a comment, reply or an ask is always welcome and they make me super happy <3 other than that thank you for reading!!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal

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sugar-grigri · 1 day

Text

Denji no longer has access to his heart

The golden rule in Chainsaw Man is to focus on the title, since it's the key to reading the story.

Rain, Brothel, Removal seem to be three absurdly unrelated elements, and Fujimoto likes to put it that way, because the challenge for the reader is to find a way of reading that links them together.

This chapter is funny as well as disturbing, deeply sad, and in itself this collection of sensations just makes you uncomfortable, since the tone is always reversed, and the protagonist himself refuses to allow his situation to be a comic spring.

Fujimoto confirms an interpretation that is fundamental to understanding Denji: his character thinks only in terms of short-term objectives, incapable of projecting himself, just as he responds only to the satisfaction of needs without being able to verbalize and think about his unhappiness in a more abstract way.

Denji, for example, isn't thinking about whether sex is actually a solution to his problems, no, it's more concrete than that: he's thinking about whether he's masturbated recently.

Another piece of evidence is the rain. I've always thought that when it rains in Fujimoto's works, it's proof that no lies are being told.

Whether in Look Back with a silent victory, the school moment with Reze and Denji.

But that's not what we're interested in here, because there's no doubt that Denji is sincere, or at least the rain only shows us that he's sincerely desperate.

There's a subtlety....

Denji complains that he only thinks with his dick, but there's another, more philosophical and certainly less funny idea behind this: Denji only thinks through his body.

The rain, the amputation, the brothel - they're all proof that Denji only thinks with his senses.

Denji thought the brothel was the solution to his distress, it's when it started raining that he collapsed, as if the change in weather had evoked his own emotional change. Yoru's solution is amputation, another physical sensation and solution.

Amputation is a solution all the more symbolic because it's antithetical to what Denji is: a demon man capable of regeneration.

To amputate is in itself not to regenerate, and not to regenerate is in itself to be more human.

What distinguishes us from animals (although science relativizes this) is the way we think about our own emotions, something Denji is incapable of doing, or at least has great difficulty in doing.

This doesn't mean he can't verbalize it at all, but when he evokes, he evokes a sensation, a dish (a shitty hamburger, a steak, a ton of sex).

Even when he wants to be loved, Denji formulates it in the form of wanting his heart, almost organically.

No one wants Denji's heart because it's gone

And it makes sense, because Pochita has reassembled his entire body, except for Denji's heart, which has literally been left in that garbage can.

That's why, when Pochita lets Denji access his feelings, the place is symbolized by a garbage can.

When Denji asks Pochita to wake up to find Nayuta, Pochita asks him where his legs are, because Denji's only function is to be a body.

And now everything makes sense again

When Denji spoke his dream to Pochita, being Chainsaw Man, I think there was a certain feeling in every reader: what exactly does it change?

What if it changes nothing? It's normal for Denji not to be able to project himself in the long term, as he should symbolically listen to his heart.

Denji's inability to have a dream, a goal for the future, is symbolized by him and Pochita as children.

It doesn't mean that Pochita is an antagonist (although that could be cool), but that Denji and Pochita are prisoners of their own situations.

Denji doesn't have access to his heart, but Pochita is contractually bound to what Denji wants.

This is also why, when Denji reproaches himself, it's his child self who's addressing him, because the only way to reproach himself, to feel guilty, is symbolized by his old self, the Denji that Pochita may have known. Just as Denji doesn't have access to his heart, Pochita has difficulty gaining access to the person Denji has become, all of which only leads to stagnation.

Denji as a child is also the symbol of a scumbag, the remnant of a lost heart, always dressed in poor, dirty clothes, a past that Denji seeks to escape, but a past that is the only time Pochita has been able to get to know Denji.

I know it's a pretty crazy line, but it's precisely because Denji is Chainsaw Man - a being both fused and disconnected - that he thinks with his dick lol

Saving Chainsaw Man by killing Chainsaw Man has never been a truer statement

Chainsaw Man is Denji's prison but also his only hope

A cage

#csm #chainsaw man spoilers #chainsaw man #csm part 2 #csm spoilers #csm 166 #csm 156 #csm 150 #denji #denji hayakawa #asa mitaka #katana man #my thoughts

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homestylehughes · 1 day

Text

sundress seduction

pairing(s): luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: where luke is seduced by y/n’s sundress and he cant keep his hands off of her.

warning(s): little plot mostly pure filth, smut 18+. use of pet names, no use of y/n. oral fem!receiving. dirty talk. unprotected sex p n v. luke and reader both being cute!

wc: 1.8k

an: HIIIIIII!!! here i am once again..with luke smut...AND I LOVE IT. it's sundress season and this little idea popped in my head and here we are now, thanks to the help of you guys MWAH and boyyy is it hot. i need luke like his BAD! anyways!! i hope you all enjoy, like and reblog if you do, as always much love!!!

happy reading <3

It was so hot at the lake house this year, the dry heat making it hard to be in anything besides a bikini or in the water. Luke and I have been at the lake for a few days, arriving before everyone else, hoping to spend some time together before the summer gets busy.

The first few days spent at the lake house were calm and the both of us decided to take it easy, going grocery shopping and stalking the house with necessary goods. Spending time swimming, tanning or on the boat. The calm atmosphere of the lake is something I'll never get used to.

Today while I was making Luke and I's breakfast he proposed the idea of us going to lunch at a new restaurant that had just opened up by the lake. Nodding my head in excitement, already knowing what I wanted to wear, I had bought a few sundresses just for the lake. Knowing it would be hot at lunch, I decided it would be the perfect thing to wear.

This was a few hours ago, Luke spending some time outside in the garage staking, practicing on his shots. while I lay on the deck reading my book as I tan. I hear lukes footsteps pad behind me on the deck.

“Hi baby” he says leaning down, placing a kiss on my back.

“Hi” I smile back up at him, the sun reflecting beautifly on his sweat covered chest.

“Do you still want to get lunch?” he asks,

“Yes i'm fine with that, if you still are”' I say, placing my bookmark in my book, moving to now sit up.

“Of course pretty girl, gonna go shower” Luke says smiling down at me, leaning down connecting our lips before heading back into the house.

Looking out the lake for a few moments, before pulling myself up from the deck gathering all of my things, slipping on my sandles before heading inside. Closing the door, heading up the stairs to Luke and I’s bedroom, entering the room, I hear the shower running in the connected bathroom.

Heading to the closet, looking through my options of dresses I have, pulling out one I haven't worn before. the long yellow and pink sundress with flowers littered over the dress, the dress being exactly what I wanted to wear today, hoping luke likes it.

I can hear the bathroom door opening, turning my head slightly, seeing Luke with a towel wrapped around his waist, as he's digging into his drawers finding something to wear. “Shower good?” I ask.

“It was, it would have been better if you were there with me though,” Luke says from behind me.

“Next time” I smile at him, as I turn around, now seeing a fully dressed luke.

The khaki shorts and dark blue polo, that complements his tanned skin so well. I walk over to help him fix his collar that's tucked in on one side.

“Thanks baby” he says while he's running a towel through his damp curls, “you're welcome handsome” i say leaning in to give him a small peck on his cheek before turning around.

“I'm going to go down stairs and wait for you, take your time baby” luke says standing in the doorway, i nod my head in understandment, luke shutting the door softly behind him as he leaves.

My attention now is going to get ready. Changing out of my swimsuit, forgoing a bra because of the dress, replacing my bottoms with underwear, before slipping the sundress on over my head, pulling it down making sure it's placed correctly on my body.

I headed into the bathroom, and began going to do my makeup and hair, choosing to do something simple. adding a few curls to my hair, fluffing it and moving on to my makeup, adding a few light products, finishing off with lip gloss. Looking at myself in the mirror, seeing it there's something I want to fix or change. deciding everything looks fine, running my hands over my sundress making sure it looks right.

Exiting the bathroom, I slip on my sandals grabbing my purse as I make my way to head down stairs.

“Im ready” i say to luke as i reach the bottom of the stairs. Luke lifts his head up from the couch, his eyes catching mine before looking me up and down, his face expressionless.

“Do you like it?” I ask him, giving him a quick little spin to show off the full dress

“Come here” he says, his voice breaking the silence around us. I slowly make my way to stand in front of where he sits on the couch, luke takes my purse from my arm, setting it on the floor before placing his hands on my hips pulling me closer to his body.

“Fuck” he mutters out

“What's wrong?” I asked nervously.

“You in this dress thats what, fuck me” he groans tracing his hands over the fabric, from my feet to the straps of the dress.

“Do you have any idea how good you look right now?” he says, as he's lightly pulling my things down, urging me to sit in his lap.

“It's just a sundress?” I say, now sitting in his lap, his hands running over my bare legs.

“Whatever the fuck it is, i want you wear them all the time” luke says, leaning into my neck placing wet kisses down my neck and exposed neck.

“Oh” I pant out, as Luke continues his assault on my neck, I feel his hands slip under the straps of the dress, pulling them off my shoulders, exposing my bare chest.

“Oh my gosh, you're going to kill me '' Luke says before his mouth latches around my left nipple, his warm wet mouth around my breast causes me to moan, pushing my hips against his.

Broken moans and pants leave my mouth as Luke continues his work on my chest, before pulling back suddenly his eyes finding mine.

“i need you baby, fuck” luke says breathlnessly, moaning in response as his hands find their way underneath my dress, his fingers tracing over my covered core.

his fingers tracing over the wet patch that now covers my underwear, “fuck baby who got you this wet?”

“you luke, please do something”

“I'm getting there baby.” he says pulling my underwear to the side, running his fingers through my wet folds, the action causes my whole body to shutter against him. I began to grind down on lukes fingers as he slowly fucks me with him.

His thumb finding my clit, “luke right there” I plant out, dropping my head to his neck, my body still moving against his fingers.

I can feel my orgasm on the rise as his fingers continue to fuck me, moaning as he curls them over so slightly hitting my g-spot, just as I feel myself about to come, Luke pulls his fingers out of my aching core. Whining in the loss of contact, pulling myself up from his neck, leaning back on my knees. I see Luke bring the two fingers that were once inside me into his mouth, sucking on them like they're a hot summer treat.

My eyes locked on his, Luke pulled his fingers from his mouth with a pop, bringing his hand to the back of my neck pulling my face to his smashing out lips together. Moaning into his mouth tasting myself on his lips, my hips begin moving against his again, craving some type of friction.

“I want you to ride me in that sundress baby”, im quick to get up from his lap, helping him take off his belt, tossing it across the living room as his hands move to unbutton his pants, pulling them down along his boxers. His cock springing free, precome leaking at the tip, the sight making my mouth water.

Luke's hands finding my hips, pulling me back towards him, helping me line up on his cock, sinking down, our moans filling the room as I fully sit down on his cock.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good around me” luke says as he goes to brush my hair thats fallen into my face.

“Luke” I pant as he rolls his hips against mine, lifting up and sinking down on him, the burn between my thighs feels so good.

I began to speed up my movements, Luke's thrusts meeting mine. My hands finding the back of the couch, my head leaning down as I watch myself sink back down on him again. “Fuck” luke says, his head agianst the back of the couch as our movements increase.

“You look so pretty riding my cock baby” , his eyes finding mine, I can feel my hair sticking to the back of my neck from sweat.

“Fuck luke” i pant out as one of his thrusts hits just the right spot, almost causing me to collapse right on top if him.

I can feel myself getting close to my climax, my legs beginning to grow tired. “Is my baby tired? Need me to take over and fuck you baby” luke smirks

“yes please” i paint before connecting our lips back together.

Luke's hands are back on my hips again, he begins to thrust into me at full speed. My breasts are bouncing with each thrust. Letting out uh’s and broken moans as he contuines to fuck me to my peak.

“Right there Luke, don't stop please” his thrusts hitting my clit, causing me to moan loudly at the feeling.

“Luke im about to come” i pant out against his mouth,

“im almost there baby, wait for me fuck” he says as he contuines thrusting into me.

“I cant hold it luke” it's becoming all too much, each snap of his hips against mine, each touch, kiss. everything is making it hard to hold on. The whole room feels like fire around me, panting like i've never had a drink of water before.

Before I even know it, my legs are beginning to shake around him.

“I'm coming,” I say before dropping my head into his neck. My vision becomes white, only feeling lukes body against mine. I can feel his grip tighten on my waist, hearing him moan out from below me. He's coming,

“That's it baby, come all over my cock” I hear Luke say, pulling me back up connecting our lips.

The kiss is hot and messy, our tongues fighting for dominance as we ride out our highs together.

Pulling back to catch my breath, our movements now stilling, looking at Luke with widened eyes, his lips swollen, as he pants looking back at me. I began to giggle at our state, thinking about how we even managed to get in this position.

“I can't believe I was seduced by your sundress. Luke laughs along with me,

“me either '' I say, lowering my face to his, giving him a sweet kiss on the lips before pulling back.

“So lunch?”

#nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #new jersey devils #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes smut #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes imagine #lh43

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imwetforyourmom · 1 day

Note

request!!!

chris or matt fic where him and the reader had a good time last night and they wake up and like cuddle and just like super fluffy and she like makes breakfast for him idk it’s all over the place but you get it

sweet

warnings: lovey dovey, suggestive, kissing, swearing, literally just fluff, poc!reader friendly

a/n: nah cause when I read the request I actually kicked my feet and said “aww that’s so cutee!!” SO FUCKING LOUD.

a/n 2: even tho anon and I did not talk at all while I was making this, I felt like me and the anon that requested this were like besties, idk

“you’re too sweet to me”

he slowly opened his eyes, before shutting them closed almost immediately with a grunt. he wrapped his arms around y/n and pulled her further into his embrace, his eyes still squeezed tightly shut due to the overbearing rays of sun in his room.

y/n moved her face away from his chest some, her eyes opening slowly to look at the boy above her.

“hi” she murmured, her voice slightly raspy with sleep.

chris kept one eye shut with a squint and his other eye opened to look at y/n, a small smile forming on his face.

“hi baby” he used his grip around her to push her face back into his chest, but closer to his neck.

breathing in, y/n wrapped her arms around chris’ bare torso and pulled one of her legs up to rest on his waist, bringing them closer.

“you were amazing last night” chris mumbled into her hair, his eyes closed now. he traced small shapes and patterns on y/ns back.

“thanks, you were okay too I guess.” y/n joked, chris scoffed in return, “well fine then, guess ill go fuck myself.”

y/n bursted into a fit of giggles, chris joining along with her.

“im joking!” she said, sighing as she stopped giggling, a contentness washed over her.

“you were amazing too” she kissed a small peck on his collarbone, before nuzzling her face further into his neck.

y/n could never ask for something as good as this, laying peacefully in her boyfriends arms while they cuddled after a long night. the warm rays of sun beaming in through the window only enchanting the moment, she wouldnt want anything any other way.

chris ran his hand through y/ns hair, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, she was so perfect, in any and every way.

“you’re so perfect.” he praised, his voice quiet but still loud enough to be heard from y/n.

a small smile also tugged at her lips, “thanks chrissy.”

without warning, she flipped them over, straddling chris’ waist, thank god she was wearing panties or this morning would end in a totally different way.

chris slowly opened his eyes, a small sense of confusion on his face at her sudden actions. he held her hips gently, rubbing small circles on them comfortingly.

he looked into her eyes, a stupid grin on his face, causing y/n to have a stupid grin on her face aswell.

after a few moments of just staring at eachother, soaking in eachothers beauty, she leant down and pressed a quick peck to chris’ lips before pulling off him fully, jumping to the floor and grabbing his t-shirt from last night to slip it on.

“im gonna make breakfest, are you going to come up with me now or in a little bit?” she asked, walking over to his closet and grabbing a pair of her shorts to slip them on as well, theres no way she’d walk upstairs in an oversized shirt with only panties on underneath.

“ill come up in a sec.” he smiled at her, waving his hands off to shoo her off.

she nodded and left the room, closing the door behind herself—hiding a slight limp from him, only to not boost his ego.

y/n stood at the oven, humming a song to herself while shifting the pan over the burner every few seconds, content with life.

living with her boyfriend and his triplet brothers in a happy home, cooking them breakfest on a warm and bright morning.

she slightly swayed her hips, feeling the music she was humming, until a hand wrapping around her waist stopped her movements.

“hi pretty girl” chris said, his chin propped on the top of her head as he watched the egg cooking aswell.

“hi!” she replied, though her voice way more enthusastic than it was in bed.

“whats got you all happy?” chris asked, his fingertips very slightly making movements to tickle her sides.

“dunno, im just happy today.” she murmured, flipping the egg sunny-side up.

“am I not allowed to be happy living with my boyfriend in a content home?” she asked sarcastically, leaning her head back to look at chris.

“I was just asking, sheesh.” he chuckled, pressing a quick peck to her cheek bone before unraveling his arms from her waist, hearing loud footsteps, signaling nick was coming in the kitchen, knowing his hatred for ‘PDA’.

nick cleared his throat, ridding of any of his leftover sleepiness “what’re you doing, y/n?” nick asked, coming around the corner and leaning against the counter, his eyes flicking between chris and her, seeing that chris was also leaning against a counter.

“making breakfest.” she murmured, her focus now returning back to the pan.

“for whom?” nick asked eagerly, he was starving and was not gonna pass up her cooking.

y/n tilted her head towards nick, a sly grin on her face. “why? you hungry?”

“well yes, thats why I asked.” nick raised his eyebrows, looking at y/n with a ‘duh’ look on his face.

“ok well, im making it for all three of you—if matt gets up anytime soon.” she looked back at the pan, her eyes trailing around the egg, waiting for it to be able to flip.

“I dont think matts getting up anytime soon. its ten o clock.” nick chuckled, leaving the kitchen to walk to the couch, plopping down onto it and turning on spongebob.

“okayyy guys, breakfest is ready!!” y/n said, taking the pan off the oven and putting the cooked eggs and bacon on the paper plates, a grin on her face, looking down at her work.

“thanks y/n.” nick got up from the couch going to the kitchen and grabbing his plate, giving y/n a side hug before going back to his spot on the couch.

chris leaned off the counter, walking over to y/n, he turned her around and wrapped his arms around her torso, pressing his face into her hair, inhaling the fruity scent of her shampoo.

y/n returned the hug, before looking up at chris, a small grin on her face a light pink blush to her cheeks.

chris looked down at her, a small smile on his face, he pressed a small kiss to the tip of her nose, mumbling “you’re so sweet to me.”

1184 words

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @genshin-addict @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @haunted-headset @starsturni @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns @wh0resstuff @mattsmad @sturn-bugz @e1ias3 @sunsetsturniolos @strniolo @sturnssmuts @simply-a-simper @stunza

@maryx2xx @mattsmad @dollyspsychoxo @mels22lunchbox @riasturns @chrissturniolosworld @ariqolyx @dollyspsychoxo

@aliceloveschris @starsturni

#sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris x reader #chris #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine

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namisin · 2 days

Text

❝ TOUCH ME, FEEL ME. . .

⚝ pairing : nanami kento x reader.

⚝ synopsis : it's date night, and the food isn't the only thing kento wants to devour.

⚝ content : 18+, fem reader, soft/pleasure dom kento, pὁrn with a literal sprinkle of plot, oral, car sėx, inspired by this song, praise, a good bit of it, semi-public, he's simply down bad ur honour, established relationship, mention of squirting, some size diff if you squint, overstim too squint real good, MDNI.

⚝ word count : 1.8k | 6.4 min read.

⚝ a/n : whats up whats up whats uppp ! this is my very first public fic after lurking on this side of fandom for... forever ? really hope u guys enjoy it ♡ likes, reblogs &/or comments are mega appreciated !!

𝐘𝐎𝐔 were trying to kill him.

that had to be the reason you turned up to your and nanami's weekly date night wearing that dress. red silk flowed around your curves like water and parted around your thigh like the sea moses allegedly split — a crimson sea of pure temptation that shifted dangerously with each step you took back to his car.

"you look gorgeous," he'd murmured in your ear when you'd met up earlier that night, teeth clenched and eyes wavering with the urge to wander. you gave him a glossy grin in return that nearly ripped his resolve in two, and thanked him in a sugary tone that made his pants that much more uncomfortable.

nanami opened the door for you, as usual, and held your hand to help you take your rightful position in his passenger seat. you sank into the cool leather while he rounded the car to the driver's side, toying with the smooth gem pendant on the necklace he'd gifted you forever ago. wordlessly, he settled before pulling his seatbelt into place. his eyes flitted instinctively to you, routinely double-checking that you'd fastened your own seatbelt too (it would become a habit for anyone after dating for well over a year). not long after, he pushed the sleek button that made his bmw m850i hum to life.

for you, the ride was quiet, save for the muted melody playing through the radio and the soft "clink!" of acrylic on smooth gemstone. for nanami, the rush of need in his head was deafening. the squishy mass between his ears swarmed with the cacophony of sounds you'd make if he touched you just right; how you'd squeal his name once he buried his face far enough between your thighs; the sticky squelches that would fill his eardrums once he finally slid home inside you, where he so desperately wanted to be.

for the moment, the sorcerer settled for clasping a calloused hand around your thigh.

"i can see you trying not to stare," your glacéed laughter broke through (what he thought was) his private musings, making his eyes widen a fraction on what was otherwise a stoic expression.

"can you blame me, darling? i meant it when i said you look gorgeous," nanami retorted in teasing stride after sobering; the corner of his lip quirked as his grip tightened on your thigh, "it's hard to keep my eyes off you."

an appreciative warmth crawled across your cheeks, curling the smile on your own lips further up.

"you should be focusing on the road, kento. would suck to crash 'cause you couldn't keep it in your pants," you snorted. he only huffed a breath of a laugh. his hand strayed further up.

"i think i'm a better driver than that. i'd still prefer to focus on you, though," he spoke in a bassy murmur, full of the gravel of lust he held for you. a particularly cold waft of air gusted at you from the air con, but you weren't so sure that was the real reason you shivered. you covered it up with another snort—

cut short by the warmth of nanami's hand eclipsing your clothed cunt.

a shaky breath blew from your chest. it was your turn to sneak glances between the road ahead and your boyfriend. your hips itched to circle in tandem with his fingers ghosting over your clit.

"ken..." you started.

"hm? what is it, precious? 'm trying to focus on the road."

you would've cracked a grin at his sass if not for the fact that your bottom lip was trapped between your teeth. the heat from your face cut a straight path downward, pooling in your abdomen and clinging to the crotch of your panties.

nanami ripped a broken sound from your throat by digging further into the fabric separating you, pressing the pads of his fingers down onto your clit. even from where he sat, he could see the patch of wetness that betrayed your arousal... it sapped any trace of amusement left in him and replaced it quickly with a spate of lust.

his fingers stilled, almost making you whine, until you realized he was pulling over onto a soft shoulder.

"w-wait ken, we shouldn't—"

"it's late, doll. no one'll see us. and besides," he released his seatbelt, then yours, "if you keep making pretty sounds like that, we will end up crashing."

burying your face in your hands, you almost missed the sound of his door opening.

"coming?" he called once he opened yours, holding a hand out for you.

"where're we goin'?"

the back door of his coupe opening answered your question.

you landed on your back with an "oof," the most jelly-like parts of you bounced for a moment before they stilled. there was barely another moment of reprieve before nanami's lips were on yours, slotting to fit just as his body did between your pliant legs. he licked at the full seam of your lips until you opened up to allow him exploration access. and explore he did — from the roof of your mouth, to the backs of your teeth, to wrapping his tongue around yours. your man was an absolutely filthy kisser, at least if the gloss smearing across both your mouths was any indication.

he pulled away from you with a wet "smack!" and like a lost puppy, you followed the warmth. hoarse laughter rumbled from his chest at your expense, drawing a pout to your swollen lips.

"oh, don't pout, sweet girl," he cooed after pecking it away, "you know i could never leave you wanting for anything."

"now, be good for me," nanami breathed into the heated skin of your neck before following up with his lips. you shifted your head to the other side easily. thrills of shudders raced along your spine at the way his lips pressed up against your sensitive spots. he took his time to work his way down, from your neck to your collarbones, then down to the deep v-cut of your dress. dark eyes, swimming wildly with desire and adoration for you, met yours over the gentle peaks of your tits, the same ones he slowly pulled the silk of your dress away from to expose to the air con.

"perfect fuckin' girl," he grunted. you would've protested (feebly), but he cut you off yet again when his lips suctioned around a hardened nipple. you hands found their way to his perfectly-coiffed hair, mussing it up in seconds.

"kuh-ken," again, you whimpered for him, feeling the telltale pulsing of a growing ache in your cunt.

"tell her i'm comin'," he warbled around the opposite nipple, satiated by the amount of saliva covering the other. as he suckled away, he reached down to shuck your dress up over your hips until it came to bunch at your tummy. you could tell he was reluctant to move on from your tits, though he had something he craved much more waiting for him.

you felt hot puffs of breath fan across your clothed slit, and that alone had you hiccupping out a whine.

"you wear these tonight for me?"

"d-don't tease, i can't—"

"as if you haven't been teasing me the whole night in this damn dress?"

the urge to roll your eyes and buck your hips up into his face were equally strong, however you stayed still and docile enough for him to cave and give you what you wanted.

he always did in the end.

you were almost right on the money, too. he lolled his tongue out to run it over your panties, growing the small wet patch into a much longer-spanning one. nanami mouthed and licked at you through the fabric just long enough to make you mewl, squirm and wrap your legs just a bit closer around his head, all in an attempt to be subtle in your push for him to give you more. impatient girl.

he didn't bother with pulling your panties off; contrary to the way he acted, he was just as impatient as his darling. every soft, needy sound you made only ticked off the amount of time he was still willing to put you both through the agony of waiting.

instead, he yanked the so-thin-it-was-almost-useless cloth to the side, pausing for a mere moment to admire the way your treacly arousal glistened in the low light of the moon. translucent strings of it connected you to your panties and pooled temptingly around your entrance.

with a gruff moan, he burrowed his way into your folds, nose bumping up against your clit. a deep gasp tore its way up your throat at his fervor.

he went from running his tongue along your slit to sucking on your clit, pursing his lips and tongue around the sensitive nub in the way he knew you liked. nanami licked a continuous path up and down, passing between that and sucking the daylight out of that bundle of nerves. he worked a finger, then two, into your fluttering hole while on the latter half of the rotation — that got your back to bow off the padded seat, just how he liked.

"don't stop, mmph! please don't stop, holy fuck-"

he couldn't help his chuckles, more hot puffs hit your now-exposed flesh in a way that made you retake your grip in his hair with one hand and sink your nails into his expensive leather seat with the other.

"'m so, so close- please!"

nanami took that as his cue to wrap his hands around your hips in a tight grip, forcing you down against his mouth and giving you no choice but to take everything he aimed to give you. he didn't let up even as you were quivering in his hold, your body tensed and his scalp stinging beneath your tight fist, nor as you squealed—

"cuh-cumming, ken! cummin'-!"

the warmth that pooled in your belly rushed throughout the rest of your body in waves, making you huff shortly in between wailing, cracked sobs of "ohmigodohmigodohmigod"s and "puh-lease, kento"s. stars blinked in and out behind your eyelids, your ears rang with the songs of angels and you swam in dizziness even though you were still laid on your back. the bliss that enveloped you numbed you to the point you barely noticed just how much you gushed around his fingers and tongue, nor how much you constricted around him.

slowly, very slowly, you came back to, vision zeroing back in on a proudly-smirking nanami. the lower half of his face dripped obscenely, a mirror of the cunt he was pulling his fingers free of.

"that's my girl," he muttered against your lips, "so fuckin' pretty. all fuckin' mine."

he left you to recoup on the backseat of the coupe after peppering you with more kisses and hushed praise, wrapped up in his jacket and curled into a blissed-out little ball. you watched him clean his face up with a handkerchief from the rearview with hooded eyes, and noted he still couldn't wipe the pleased look off his face.

"oh, don't get too comfortable yet, darling," he hummed while steering back onto asphalt, "i'm finishing what i started once i get you home."

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dark-and-kawaii · 2 days

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ʚ♡ɞ New Life & Beginnings ʚ♡ɞ

- Rolan x F!Tav/Reader

- Zevlor x F!Tav/Reader

- Raphael x F!Tav/Reader

✧˖°. Summary: Separate stories involving Rolan, Zevlor, and Raphael with their newborns.

✧˖°. Notes: I’m a sucker for these men being dads, and I just needed some softness… And a little angst for Zevlor

✦ Fluff | Prt 1. For Zevlor but not needed to read this | Hint of Angst For Zevlor & Rolan | Dadphael

Rolan

Rolan stood by the window, cradling a newborn in his arms. The child, swaddled in soft, faded blue linens, was a stark contrast to the crimson of Rolan's skin. His tail swayed gently back and forth in rhythm with the quiet hum he sang to soothe the infant.

It was a rare sight indeed. He never thought he’d hum to some infant, let alone his very own. But he figured this child, his child, deserved everything he never got to experience. His own childhood had been marked by absence, devoid of a loving mothers touch and a fathers protection…

Life had not always been kind to Rolan. As an orphaned tiefling with horns that curled back like the branches of a twisted tree and eyes the color of molten gold, he had wandered through his early years shrouded in solitude. No last name to claim, no family to return to after his day's adventures. That was until Cal and Lia found him.

Now, here he stands in a grand tower to call his own, his life transformed yet again. The room was filled with the quiet murmur of a new beginning. His gaze drifted towards the bundle of pillows on the floor where you, his beloved, rested deeply. The labor had been long and taxing, and Rolan despised the fact it happened here in the tower. Still though, a faint smile crossed his features as he whispered a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

The infant, perhaps sensing the warmth of his father's gratitude, joined in on the thanks and cooed softly, a delicate sound that seemed to stitch the very air with joy and its very own magic. Rolan chuckled, a sound rich with love, and lowered his face to plant a gentle kiss on the baby’s forehead.

But the tranquility of the moment was abruptly punctuated by a tiny sneeze from his little one. Reflexively, Rolan pulled back slightly, just in time to see a small flame burst forth from the baby’s nostrils... The flame caught the ends of Rolan’s hair, igniting them with a soft fizz.

Rolan's initial annoyance flickered across his face as quickly as the flame had caught his hair. He patted down the singed ends with a practiced hand, his expression melting into one of bewildered joy. The tiny sneeze had revealed something extraordinary about his child.

“By the stars,” Rolan murmured, his annoyance flickering away as quickly as it had ignited, replaced by a surge of excitement. “A sorcerer?… Or should I say, sorceress?” His voice was a mix of wonder and pride as he looked down at his daughter, whose big eyes blinked back at him, unaware of her fiery debut, “If you wish to master your skills you’ll need a good teacher. Thankfully you have everything you need- right here.”

Turning back towards the cozy corner where you slept, his tail continued swishing softly behind him. Carefully, almost tenderly, he nudged the sheet with the tip of his tail, pulling it up to tuck around you more securely. He then sat down beside you, his smile never wavering.

“I- I can't thank you enough,” Rolan reached for your hand, holding it gently between his, “Before you, my world was a tapestry with beautiful threads but no real picture.” he glanced down at yours and his daughter, “you've helped me start a family to call my own, besides Cal and Lia.”

His tail curled around, encircling both himself and his daughter as he continued to hold your hand.

Once an orphan, now a cherished father and partner. Rolan found himself at the center of his own growing family, with a sense of belonging he had never imagined possible.

Zevlor

His sleep was anything but peaceful… Zevlor tossed his head from side to side, his features twisting in torment. The sheets were crumpled beneath him, damp with sweat, as he muttered a sullen, “gods... no.” Each word was a whisper of despair, barely escaping his lips as the nightmare clenched its cold fingers around his mind.

In the throes of his dream, he found himself with blood stained hands as you lay lifeless in his arms. His hands tainted with your blood, his own sword impaled through your slightly distended abdomen… The nightmare depicted a grim scene where the influence of the Absolute had pushed him too far. By the time he realized his actions, it was tragically too late…

While holding your still form, Zevlor shut his eyes tightly, tear drops forming at their edges, desperately praying to any deity that might hear his cries, begging that this horror was not reality. Yet, upon reopening his eyes, the haunting image remained unchanged… There you were, still and devoid of life. His hand grazed your stomach, his head resting against yours, as he envisioned the life that might have been…

The tiefling bolted upright, shaken from the harrowing nightmare, his heartbeat pounding as the nightmarish visions clung to his mind. He extended his hand hesitantly, a wave of relief washing over him when he felt the comforting warmth of your sleeping figure beside him.

“It was only just a dream…” he whispered, though the words did little to calm his frayed nerves. Rolling onto his side, he pulled you close, his tail coiling around your leg to help keep you in place. He took a deep breath, inhaling your familiar scent as if to reassure himself of your presence. You stirred slightly but did not wake, for which he was grateful. He did not think he could speak of the horrors he'd seen. Far too afraid that you might have regrets keeping him at your side.

With a tilt of his head, Zevlor surveyed the room in search of the sole other treasure that held immense value in his existence. His infernal gaze landed on the crib where his beloved child peacefully slumbered. Silently he stood and peered into the crib, observing the delicate rhythm of his precious newborn’s tranquil breaths, finding solace in their steady respiration. Recollections of tender smiles and tiny grasping fingers alleviated the remnants of fear lingering in his thoughts.

How close he'd come to losing everything that day… When the absolute swayed him… Never again though. Never.

Quietly, Zevlor lifted the babe and returned to your side.

Holding his child close, the newborn's tiny heartbeat and warmth proof that the nightmare was not truly a reality.

“I vow to you, my child, and to your mother,” he whispered softly, his voice a tender rumble in the quiet of the night. “I will be your shield, your protector. No harm shall come to you as long as I draw breath.”

Zevlor's gaze shifted from the baby back to you. The sight of you both, safe and sound, was truly a balm to his troubled soul. Carefully, he adjusted his child in his arms, ensuring they were snug and secure. With a deep, steadying breath, he allowed himself a moment to simply be present, soaking in the quiet joy of fatherhood and being your lover. The fears of his nightmare seemed to dissolve, replaced by a quiet confidence borne of love and duty.

As the night deepened, Zevlor continued to watch over his little family. Every so often, he would gently touch the baby's cheek or brush a soft kiss against your forehead. These small acts reaffirming himself that this comforting reality was indeed true, not merely an illusion.

Raphael

In your room where shadows danced with the dim candlelight, all was silent except for your gentle breaths as you slept soundly. The bed, large and ornate, cradled not only your dreams but also a newborn, wrapped in delicate linens embroidered with gold stitches. You, with a serene expression, appeared as a portrait of peace as you held your infant close to your heart.

It was always around this time that the air shifted subtly, a warmth flooding the room, a sharp scent of sulfur and cherries mingling with your very own fragrance. From the darker corners of the room emerged a figure, tall and imposing, wrapped in fine silks to match the hells of which he was born from.

As Raphael approached the bed, his movements were silent, almost reverent. His fingers, warm and soft, traced a path up your exposed arm, stopping just short of your face. For a moment, he merely stood, his gaze shifting between you and the child nestled within your arms. A rare, tender expression softened the harsh lines of his face.

With the care of one who handles precious artifacts, Raphael gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. His touch was surprisingly tender, a contrast to his usual character. “Such a sleepy little mouse,” he murmured with an affectionate tone, one that seemed unfamiliar on his lips, “how quaint.”

Carefully, he lifted the infant from your embrace. The baby, undisturbed, continued to sleep, her tiny chest rising and falling in a calm rhythm. Raphael seated himself on the edge of the bed, ensuring every movement was calculated and silent, not to disturb the peaceful slumber of the infant's mother, you.

Holding the child merely inches from him, he looked at her with a complex mixture of emotions; affection, pride, perhaps even a hint of fear. His eyes, usually so piercing and cold, warmed as they rested on the child's placid face.

Raphael's attention was momentarily drawn to the balcony where a pseudo dragon perched, its eyes fixed on him with an unblinking gaze. The creature, a guardian by nature, watched with a protective intensity, ready to act should it perceive any threat to the child.

Turning his gaze back to the infant, Raphael spoke softly, his voice a whisper that carried weight and promise, “When she is grown, she will rule the nine hells with me.” The declaration was not just a statement of future events; it was a father's vow, a ruler's plan, “the perfect heir.” His daughter, this innocent soul, was not just any infant; she was his daughter, destined to share his ruling over the realms of damnation.

The room remained silent, the only sound the occasional flutter of the pseudo dragon's wings and the steady breathing of you and his child. Raphael continued to hold his daughter, his mind undoubtedly racing with plans and dreams of what was to come. For now, however, this moment was tender, a father bonding with his daughter, their future sprawling before them like the starlit sky outside the balcony.

#♡⟡˙⋆ 𝓕𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓼 & 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓻 𝓝𝓮𝔀𝓫𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓼 ⋆˙⟡♡#♡⟡˙⋆ 𝓩𝓮𝓿𝓵𝓸𝓻 𝓞𝓾𝓻 𝓑𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭 ⋆˙⟡♡#♡⟡˙⋆ 𝓡𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓷 𝓞𝓾𝓻 𝓢𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓴 ⋆˙⟡♡#♡⟡˙⋆ 𝓡𝓪𝓹𝓱𝓪𝓮𝓵 𝓞𝓾𝓻 𝓓𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵 ⋆˙⟡♡#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #zevlor #zevlor bg3 #bg3 Zevlor #Rolan #bg3 rolan #holy rolan empire #rolan bg3 #raphael bg3 x reader #zevlor x reader #rolan x reader

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elizaleclerc · 23 hours

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OMG PART TWO TO 'i dont know you at all' PLEASEEE <33

here to serve the ppl !

i don’t know you at all 🤍 (part two)

lando norris x reader

read part one here <3

summary: lando heals from bad habits as the racing season gets underway (warning for alcoholism)

song: drunk, running by lizzy mcalpine

author’s note: wanted this part to be a little angsty still but mostly sweet too <3 (prob won't do a part 3) also hit 50 followers so yay me!!

word count: 2k

The exhilarating racing season was once again in full swing, providing a much-needed break from Lando's reckless behavior and destructive habits. After his violent outburst where he drunkenly hurled a glass at your head, he had promised to change his ways. And true to his word, he stopped going to wild parties and completely gave up drinking. The apartment was once again filled with a sense of peace, and you found yourself back in the comforting routine of sleeping beside him each night. He seemed like the same old Lando that you had always loved, but you couldn't help but feel that deep down, he still struggled with his inner demons of addiction.

As the racing season continued, Lando was once again fully immersed in his career. Every weekend, he was out on the track, pushing himself and his car to the limit. You loved watching him race, feeling a sense of pride and admiration as he effortlessly weaved through the other cars. But at the same time, you couldn't help but worry about him.

You knew that once he got back into the cockpit of a race car, he had no choice but to be sober. You couldn't drink every night and still be healthy enough to be a Formula One driver. And while you were glad that racing forced him to stay away from alcohol, you also feared that once the season ended, he would fall back into his old habits.

But for now, you tried not to think about it and simply enjoyed seeing a glimpse of his normal self again. Surrounded by his friends in the paddock, Lando's infectious smile and carefree attitude returned as he joked around with his teammates and rivals. His world had become solely you and racing again, and it was a relief to see him find joy in those two things.

As Lando sat in his driver's room, getting dressed and mentally preparing for the upcoming Miami Grand Prix, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and pride. This was the second season that you were accompanying him in the McLaren paddock. And just like before, the team welcomed you with open arms, treating you like one of their own.

You sat on Lando's small plush bed as he finished getting dressed, admiring his neon helmet that sat on the table next to you. The bright colors and design always caught your eye, and it was a symbol of his identity as a racer.

“How are you feeling about today?” You asked him, breaking the comfortable silence in the room.

He turned around to face you, a small grin on his face. “Not too bad,” he replied. “The car felt good in practice and Quali, it's got the pace to win.” You nodded, knowing how important it was for Lando to have confidence in both himself and his car. He had been working tirelessly with his engineers to fine-tune every aspect of the car for this race.

“I'm sure you'll do great,” you reassured him with a smile.

Lando's face lit up with a wide, toothy grin upon hearing your words. “I hope so,” he replied, leaning in to give you a quick, tender kiss. Your hand instinctively cupped his cheek, pulling him in for another kiss, this one filled with more passion and desire. As you stood up, you wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him closer to you as the kisses became more heated. In these moments, all the harsh memories of post-party arguments and unwanted touches faded away. All that mattered was being enveloped in Lando's embrace, lost in each other's lips.

As his lips pressed against your neck, your breath caught in your throat and your heart rate quickened. "I love you," you whispered into his ear, feeling his soft kisses and love bites in return.

His smile was evident even through the passionate exchange of kisses. "You know you mean everything to me," he said in a low, husky voice that sent shivers down your spine.

"I know, my love," you grinned, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. He had told you countless times that he raced not only to win but to make you proud, and every time it made your heart swell with pride. You could see the positive changes he was making for the better, and it only strengthened your love for him.

As he headed out of his drivers room towards the starting grid, you followed close behind. The atmosphere in the paddock was buzzing with energy and anticipation as everyone prepared for what would surely be an exciting race.

You watched from the McLaren garage as he expertly maneuvered through each turn and overtook other cars on the track. It was clear that he had full control over his car and was pushing it to its limits. With only a few laps left in the race, Lando radioed into his team requesting updates on his position. He was currently in second place, but with the leader's increasing tire degradation, Lando was quickly approaching the opportunity to overtake him.

You gazed on in the paddock watching the last couple of laps unfold. Tensions were rising, and on the second to last lap, Lando finally overtook his way into first place. You felt giddy with excitement, and before you knew it the checkered flag was waved.

This was the first win that Lando had earned while the two of you were in a relationship. You paced down to the podium celebration with the rest of the McLaren crew. Your heart was overjoyed as you bit your bottom lip in excitement.

With the roar of the engines still ringing in his ears, Lando emerged from his car, hastily pulling off his helmet and sprinting towards you and the rest of the team. He barely spared a glance for his colleagues before rushing towards you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. Through the metal fence that separated you, he pressed his face into your neck, inhaling deeply as if trying to imprint your scent into his memory forever. "I'm so proud of you," Your voice cracked with emotion as you held him close, fighting back tears. A mental image of Lando stumbling home from a wild party flashed through your mind, highlighting just how much things had changed in the past few months.

“I love you so so much,” His voice was cracking too, and as he pulled back you saw the faint glimpse of tears in his eyes. He grabbed your face and kissed you passionately. Embracing you one more time, he left to go up to the podium celebration.

As he ascended the podium, a triumphant smile lit up his face as he held up his gleaming trophy. He glanced down at you with adoration and blew a kiss in your direction. The sunlight bathed him in a golden glow, highlighting the lines of his chiseled body and the flush of exertion on his tanned skin. He cradled his first place trophy like a cherished treasure, his pride evident in the way he held it close to his chest. Your heart swelled with love and admiration as you watched him bask in the glory of his victory.

The weight of his past struggles and mental battles hung heavy in the air, unseen by the world around him. As he stood on that podium, basking in the love and admiration of those around him, you could only pray that he would hold onto this moment forever. He had endured so much pain and fought through it all with incredible resilience. This race win was a well-deserved triumph, a validation of his strength and determination a thousand times over.

As the excitement and chaos of the Grand Prix died down, you found yourself alone with him in his driver's room. The air was thick with tension, and you couldn't help but feel conflicted. On one hand, everyone expected him to go out and celebrate at the clubs in Miami as the race winner. But you knew he was struggling with a difficult decision - whether or not to join the party and risk breaking his sobriety.

"Do you want me to come with you?" You offered, torn between wanting to support him and wanting to retreat to your hotel room for an early night.

As he sat next to you, head low as he muttered “Maybe,” you couldn't help but feel torn. You wanted him to enjoy his victory and let loose, but at the same time, you understood his fear. Your hand intertwined with his, offering support and reassurance.

But as a tear fell from his eye, your heart ached. He sniffed, "I just don't want to put myself in a position where I could hurt anyone." You knew what was going through his mind - the night in his apartment, the pain he had caused you. It was a wake-up call for him, one that he hated but needed. His fear of hurting someone again consumed him, even though he had promised to change.

“It’s okay, I know how hard you’ve worked to change.” You knew your words could only do so much to make him feel better, but you came to a compromise. You would come with him to the club, making sure that he didn’t do anything drastic.

As the night wore on, you could see Lando slowly becoming more relaxed and comfortable in the club setting. He mingled with other drivers and even took a few shots of water when they were offered to him. You were proud of how well he was doing and made sure to let him know it. You leaned into him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He smiled at you, “Thank you for being here with me tonight. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

The two of you danced and laughed together, enjoying the celebratory atmosphere of the club. At one point, Max came over to congratulate Lando on his win and the two of them shared a friendly hug. It was a nice moment that reminded you that even though they were fierce competitors on the track, they were all still friends off it.

As the stars twinkled in the night sky, Lando's infectious laughter filled the air as he walked arm in arm with you back to your hotel room. His warm embrace and the soft hum of a familiar song made you feel at ease and content. As you reached your room, he turned to face you with a genuine smile on his face.

"Tonight was magical," he whispered, pulling you into a tight hug before leaning down to press his lips against yours in a sweet and tender kiss. The moment felt like it could last forever as the warmth of his body and the gentle touch of his lips stirred butterflies in your stomach. "Thank you for coming with me.”

You smiled back at him, “Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” The two of you continued kissing until eventually collapsing onto the bed in each other’s arms. You snuggled up against each other as sleep started to take over your exhausted bodies. The Lando you had once loved had finally come back to you. You knew realistically he didn’t need you there at the club to make sure he didn’t relapse, but you were more than willing to support him. “I’m really proud of you, you know.” You told him as your head rested on his chest.

“Thank you, my love,” he replied, his words dripping with sincerity as he placed a gentle kiss atop your head. You were his everything, the reason for every waking breath and every beat of his heart. He would do anything to make you happy, to see that beautiful smile light up your face. As he held you in his arms, he couldn't help but envision the rest of his life with you by his side - growing old together, experiencing all of life's ups and downs together, and loving each other through it all.

#formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando norris #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1

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chaosandmarigolds · 23 hours

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I’m laying in bed and drastically bored so I present-

Whatever this could be classified as (fem!reader, (literally a millisecond mention of pregnancy) ypos cause it’s written on my phone :) )

Dad!Simon, who has a sick spouse and child at the same time and he doesn’t feel great either but he’ll DIE with that information

Simon who got sprite, saltines, and just about everything he could think of from the store and yet you and Ollie were still unable to keep anything down

You laugh it off, saying it happens every year, just a school bug and you’ll be fine in no time

Ollie is playing it up, he doesn’t feel good but as soon as he sees his father look worried and willingly offer him ice cream for breakfast- oh lil guy is going to Oscars for his performance

Simon who peppers kisses to your skin even though you every much tell him he will get sick- well tricks on you because he already feels sick

Simon who calls Missus Price for that soup she made that one time from like eight years ago (technically it had been for her husband John but John was unconscious at the time so Simon and Johnny had it-anyway-) when they were deployed and she delivered!

Missus Price, Eliza, who tsk tsks at the state of the Riley family and tells Simon to sit because good God everyone looked like they were on the brink of death and that would not do

So she happily tidies everything up, puts some defusers on to help the congestion, makes sure everyone takes their medication (has to literally threaten Ollie, but as soon as Grandad was brought up the child obliged) made two meals and put them away, did the laundry, and left a little note “Feel better, loves.” Before leaving around midnight that night.

Simon who really woke up feeling a lot better, stretching in the bed to find Ollie laying diagonally across the bed still fast asleep and you were no where to be seen- expect for leaning against the cold bathtub in the bathroom

Simon who groggily sits down next to you, eyes squinting against the light and moving you to lean into him

“This sucks.”

“I know, ‘a jus drainage though, it’ll go away.”

“Allergies suck.”

“Agree with ya.”

A few moments pass

“Your fever broke.”

You’re not wrong, but the way your rasped and hoarse voice mumbles it almost made him laugh, “Oh? Ho’ ya know?”

“You’re sweaty, that’s how. And olls-“

“Still sleeping.”

“Mmkay.”

Simon who would happily carry you to the ends of the earth but at the moment back to bed would do

Simon who went down to the kitchen to get your tea when he found the note, reading it and giving a silent thank you to whatever god sent him such a sweet woman- yet faltered when he sees the little blue and white box, it’s a sticky note attached saying “just in case”

Simon who didn’t think about and brought you the tea and turned on the tv, having you tucked under his arm and Ollie very groggily watching Bluey

(Yeah idk what this is, maybe I had too much melatonin. I’m so sorry you’re subjected to this. Anyway….thats it <3)

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x you #coco's chaos <3 #simon riley x reader #cod fluff #cod x you #coco’s pre k universe! <3

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kotias · 4 hours

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Your Grace is a Fire

New fic just dropped, prompted by @gleafer on her Patreon!!

Prompt:

“Hell infuses Crowley’s body with hellfire so he runs away and hides for years. Aziraphale finds him, and he thinks he knows how to put out the fire that burns his demon so!”

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Hell's Punishments, Graphic description of torture, graphic description of illness, graphic description of violence, Stalking, fleeing, divine ecstasy, Coming Untouched, Bloodgraphic description of body failing and doing disgusting things, Shedding, Angst with a Happy Ending, angst with a porny ending, Angst and Porn

TW: I am so serious. DEAD DOVE. There is blood, torture, intense amounts of gross bodily fluids.

Word count: 7,369 words

Summary:

Laudanum! Last time Crowley would do that… Hell infuses the demon with hellfire and sends him back on Earth, where Heaven hunts him down for three decades before Aziraphale gets his hands on him and brings him back to the bookshop. There, they work together to rid Crowley from this hellfire plaguing him…

Excerpt:

Before him, Aziraphale’s irises changed. The jade colour they had been wearing until then was engulfed into a golden typhoon, thrashing against the walls of its white enclosure and devouring it until all trace of the jewel was gone. The storm passed, leaving behind it the pure, bright blue of a clear sky, almost light enough to lose itself into the rest of the eye.

Crowley only realised that Aziraphale had opened his mouth when his warm breath tickled his skin, and he followed the light appearing between his teeth.

He shook his head, letting out a plaintive whine, trying to get away, get away, get away— but the cold light glowing harder than the sun breached the space of Aziraphale’s lips and entered his, resting on the tip of his tongue and giving him a moment of soothing warmth.

That, however, did not last.

As the glowing bundle rolled into his mouth and down his throat, the cosy embrace turned into a scorching hot tear rolling into the walls towards his chest and freezing his inside with shock.

“Wha—”

“I know.” Aziraphale’s eyebrows furrowed in concern and, Crowley understood, a silent apology. “It’s going to hurt, Crowley.”

And hurt it did, like nothing he had lived through before. He didn’t need to see the light moving inside him to know exactly where it was; everything it touched caught on fire, only to be frozen over and shredded to pieces. Each nerve of his body seemed to be looking for an escape, goosebumps covering his skin like needles.

Each gasp of suffering added only more hurt as the air blew the flames of the hellfire inside him harder and harder. It felt like a battle between Aziraphale’s light and his own affliction, and the loser was himself.

He crashed to the ground, wriggling and whining, his vision turning black.

Read more here

And of course, I am not forgetting @goodomensafterdark ;)

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cadashhh · 1 day

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can't stop thinking about a poly 141 au where the reader is a librarian and the guys attend your library's free veterans programs at least once a week. they're always in the conference room by the time you clock in, chatting lowly over cups of steaming coffee and donuts from the local bakery.

(notes: mostly fluffy, some sexual implications. minors - please do not interact or you will be blocked. i have never played a call of duty game in my life so this is bound to be out of character. mentions of skirts and dresses but i tried really hard to keep the gender wishy washy lmfao. shout out to all the fat librarians/book lovers/nerds!!!!)

you know john price as the leader, the one who makes the reservation and pays the security deposit out of his own pocket. at least once a month he will stay late after the program and help you reshelve books, carrying heavy stacks behind you as you put them back in their proper places. he admires your kindness and patience and always sneaks you a donut, muttering about how it's your "little secret" with a wink. while you work, his eyes track the skirt bouncing around your plush thighs, wishing for a breeze or fan to catch the material and reveal what lies beneath.

johnny mctavish unabashedly flirts with you from the moment he sees you, complimenting your dresses and asking if you've done your hair differently. he keeps up to date on your current read, seemingly interested in whatever program you're planning next. he could listen to you for hours, quite frankly, and he's dying to ask you on a date away from the library. he wonders if your dresses stay pretty and professional after hours and if you'd mind if his hand slipped under your hemline. sometimes he gets a bit too loud and excited to see you and you have to remind him where you are, then he always makes an offhand comment about how his "mother raised him better" so it's easy to forgive him.

the library was made for simon. silence, no obligation to socialize, and plenty of material to keep him busy and occupied for hours. he's one of the few veterans that actually uses the library services, frequently checking out books on the history of war and military strategy, maybe the occasional memoir or autobiography. you start requesting interlibrary loans that you think he'll like, keeping them behind the desk so only you can give them out, specifically to him. it's a big hit and for the first time you see the promise of a smile in the twinkle of his eyes, despite the lower half of his face being covered by a black surgical mask. in time, he starts suggesting books for you, too. you know he doesn't read the genres you prefer, but the fact that he took the time to research makes you all the more fond.

gaz is the sweetest patron you've ever had -- and possibly your favorite. hell, he's the whole town's favorite library patron. he'll entertain grade school children when their teacher deals with an incident, help an elderly gentleman with the copier, replace the burnt-out light bulb in the tech closet, AND still ask you for a volunteer form so he can "give back to the community." gaz is another veteran that uses the library for all it's worth - he almost always checks out the monthly book club recommendation, whether he attends the discussion or not, and takes the time to check out your newest displays. he offers to help you with any military exhibition or displays and, in time, gets to know your library's genealogy specialist to help other veterans trace their ancestry.

and even then, after all of that, you're still shocked when they ask to take you for lunch after a meeting in autumn. they promise it's just a thank you for all your hard work and support and though you insist you're happy to help, they won't take no for an answer. flustered but excited, you say yes and walk with them to your small town's main street for a bite.

outside of the library, it quickly becomes apparent they all know each other - and quite well. you listen to their service stories and notice every intimate touch or flirtatious glance shared between them, smiling widely when soap kisses gaz's cheek affectionately during their meal. you don't even realize they've been showering you with compliments and asking you curious questions about yourself. it all feels so natural, like you've been friends for ages.

you seriously don't recognize this as a date until you get far too captivated in one of soap's stories, leaning back to get more comfortable and meeting the warm skin of john's arm as it rests on the back of your chair. you begin to apologize, but john's smirk nearly punches the air out of your lungs before he shifts to briefly massage your neck with a firm grip. suddenly, an even larger palm slides over your lap until it can squeeze your thigh through your floral sundress. when you look back, you'd swear the stoic ghost is smirking at you as well, but you can't tell with his dark mask obscuring the bottom portion of his face. your next thought is to look at gaz and soap, to gauge their reactions, but when your eyes flicker between theirs you find dark, dilated pupils. soap wears a salacious grin, as if he's already picturing ways to split you apart.

#john price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #johnny mctavish x reader #plus size reader #fat reader #i have no idea how to tag things anymore #idek why i did this lmfao #mine #s/o to my girlfriend as always for reading over this for meeeee

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starless-nightz · 2 days

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i sent this request to someone else about a year and a half ago and i went back to look at it but they never made it into a fic so i thought it’d ask you instead while also making some small changes to my old request

Eloise bridgerton x fem!royalty!reader where two women can get married as long as one of them is rich enough to support the both of them

reader has to soon take over the throne because she is an only child but she has to first get married so she goes to London to find a wife or a husband and Eloise accidentally makes reader laugh (like that one scene w queen charlotte) which makes Eloise catch readers eye and she tries to court Eloise but Eloise being herself decides to be stubborn and act as if she has no feelings for the reader

readers mother strictly reminds her that she has little time left to find a match which forces reader to move on and try to find someone else who’s more willing to marry

of course Eloise gets jealous which makes her realize her mistake and it end’s with Eloise confessing right before the day reader is about to propose to another girl saying something along the lines of “dont marry her”

happy ending pleaseeee

Eloise being courted by fem! royalty! reader

note -> I absolutely love this idea! I made this into HCs and a scenario since I dont have any idea how to make it into a fic, sorry :[

warnings -> none.

content includes -> fluff/angst, smitten reader, jealousy.

You didnt want to get married, but you had to, as you knew your father was at the brink of death and you would soon need to ascend the throne, forcing you to marry

You disliked the girls this season, they only liked you for your power and money, you wanted someone who would genuienly love you

The moment your eyes layed on Eloise Bridgerton you knew you were smitten, and the way she talks and jokes always make you laugh

You tried to court her, always sending her, her mother and her sisters flowers and gifts, dancing with her at balls, reading and talking about her favorite books, even becoming close friends with some of her brothers

But Eloise did not want you, or at least she acted like it, so your mother forced you to find someone else

The girl wasn't too bad, but she wasn't Eloise, and you knew you could never love her, even if you tried, but she was the best choice from the ton, so you asked her father for her hand, which he agreed

You didnt understand why Eloise was so upset that you were courting another, she didn't want you, after all, but she proved you wrong the day before you were going to propose

"You cannot marry her! I wouldnt allow it!" Eloise said as she grabbed your arm, her eyes filled with guilt and jealousy.

"Why not? I wanted you, Eloise, but you made it quite clear you did not want me, and I must marry if I were to ascend the throne." you said as you looked back at her, you loved her, but she did not love you, so you have to marry another.

You freed your arm from her grip and you turned away to leave, until you heard her say-

"But I want you! I was wrong, i was stuborn, I want you and I do not wish to see you marry another!" she said, a tear running down her cheek, stopping you dead in your tracks.

You turned back to her, losing your breath, she wanted you? All along she wanted you?

"Are you certian you want me?" you asked her and she nodded, looking back up at you.

"I have loved you ever since you started courting me, but I was too stuborn to admit it, i have only realised it when you started courting another, please, i cant see you marry another." her voice broke as she spoke, her eyes begging and pleading for you.

"I could never imagine choosing another over you, especially now that I know you return my undying love." you said as you bringed her closer, pulling her in a kiss which she gladly returned.

#eloise x reader #eloise bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton #eloise #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader

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gglitch1dd · 12 hours

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Us & You Pt 1

DILF Kirishima Eijiro X Teacher FEM!Reader

Context: Kirishima Eijiro has done everything to forget Bakugou Katsuki in his life and just focus on his daughter, his amazing and loving daughter. The light of his eye. Due to an incident, Eijiro meets you, a teacher at his daughter school who he can't help but fall for. However, as his daughter grows older and questions start being asked, it feels like the peace he tried to cultivate is slipping through his fingers.

Note: Bullying, Discrimination, Angry Daddy Eijiro, Single dad Eijiro.

PLEASE NOTE BEFORE READING THIS SHORT SERIES: There will be some deep discussions about morality, children, abortion arguments pertaining to Pro life vs Pro choice as well as the father's role in raising a child/conceiving a child. It also deals with the struggles of being a single parent. It's very messy and very much real life. Katsuki is Trans in this story (mostly cause I couldn't find another character to be Sachiko's mom and you'll see why).

!!HAPPY 7K Followers to me!!

“Daddy!”

Eijiro happily snored in bed as he lay face first in bed. The large black-haired man was happy to stay in bed without a single care in the world. The sound of soft padded feet were heard as a little girl walked over to the giant bed that belonged to her father. She stood to the side closest to where he was with a huff. The black haired girl pushed against his bare back using all her force. She knocked herself against him, trying to get him up.

“Daddy!” She whined out again. “Wake up! I’ve got to go to school.” She reminded him.

Eijiro let out a load groan, his eyes squeezing shut as he turned away from the ten year old “Where’s… where’s Miss Hanako…” He mumbled barely awake. “Miss Hanako… take… school.” He let out in a tired drawl.

The little girl sighed before tilting her head to the side. “Miss Hanako is on maternity leave.”

… right.

His personal assistant was on maternity leave. Something he had forgotten about despite reminding his daughter that he would be taking her to school for the next couple of weeks just the night before. With a deep sigh, Eijiro slowly sat up from bed with messy long thick black hair. He scratched his head as he let out a deep big yawn, almost like a giant lion. “What time is it?” He asked still disorientated as he looked towards his side table.

“It’s seven.” She told him.

It took Eijiro a moment to recall what time that was. Suddenly his eyes opened wide as he looked down at her surprised. “It’s seven?” He asked shocked. She nodded her head. “Sachiko, why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” He quickly jumped out of bed and raced into his bathroom. “Did you shower!?” He asked loudly as he switched on his shower.

“Yep.” She told him as she moved to leave his room, not surprised that he didn’t notice that she was already in her school uniform.

Eijiro raced into the shower, reminding himself of the meeting he had been preparing all night for that he had at half past eight. However, if he were honest with himself, he wasn’t surprised that he woke up late nor that his daughter woke him up. Ever since she learned to walk, she always came to his room first thing. It was something Eijiro loved. Even now as she grew older and started to learn to do things for herself, the fundamentals didn’t change and he was grateful for that.

It was just their dynamic. It had always been them. Eijiro and Sachiko. Of course, they had the entire of the Kirishima family at their back and never really were alone with how much of their family was engrained in their lives constantly, but when it came down to it, it was always father and daughter. Even now, as Sachiko just closed the bento she made for him. It was a task that she wanted to learn to do and one she had been succeeding in. It was one of the many things he loved in his day that reminded him of his daughter.

Eijiro picked up a muffin as he walked into the kitchen, he took a bite of the warm baked good. He let out a groan at the taste, nodding at the muffin he was holding. He gave her a thumbs up making her smile as she moved around the kitchen making sure her own bento was ready and packed away. Eijiro walked over to fridge, looking at himself in the reflective surface. He adjusted his tie and gave himself a look.

Sachiko tapped his shoulder. Turning to face her, knowing that she was more the stylist between the two of them, she reached up on the tips of her toes and took off his tie, opening the first few straining buttons. She tilted her head, before nodding and taking her tie with her. “You finished your presentation, Daddy?” She asked him as she moved to place it on the sofa back.

Eijiro nodded his head. “Yes, just before midnight actually.” He told her as he moved to grab his daughter’s blazer off the wall.

Sachiko grabbed her bag and her father’s bento. She took off her apron, moving to hang it in the kitchen. She quickly moved to the foyer where her father was. She placed his bento down into his backpack. She set her own bag down.

Eijiro motioned for her to turn around which she did. He carefully slipped on her blazer onto her shoulders, slipping her arms through. He fixed her appearance for a moment, moving a strand of her hair back out of her face.

He smiled down at her, cupping her soft face in his large hands. She looked up at him, the two undeniably related looking so much alike. “You said your prayers?”

She nodded her head as he raised his eyebrow. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Did you do your affirmations?” Sachiko hesitated, earning a pointed look from her father. She gave him a bright smile, trying to distract him. Eijiro couldn’t help but chuckle. He shook his head with tsks. “Come on, you know the words.”

Sachiko sighed as she closed her eyes for a second before opening her crimson eyes again. She put her hands to her chest. “My name is Kirishima Sachiko, daughter of Kirishima Eijiro. I am constantly growing and developing into a good person. I am beautiful, I am strong, I am smart and I am talent. I know my values. I am as strong as a mountain and as proud as a dragon. I am a Kirishima, worthy, loved and true.” She finished with a gentle smile.

Eijiro looked down at her with a proud smile. He leaned down closer to her face. He placed his forehead against hers for a second. Sachiko placed her hands over her father’s with a smile. He placed a kiss on her forehead. “Okay... lets go.” Taking her smaller hand in his own, the two of them left the apartment into the elevator.

Sachiko stood in the elevator with her father, holding on to his hand as the elevator descended down the tall building. “Daddy, I added my equestrian competition to your calendar.” She told him as she looked up at him. Sachiko was still much smaller than her father, but it wasn’t much of a surprise to Eijiro. She was still young and whether she grew taller like her Aunt Akari or stayed shorter like her other aunt, Tamami. He didn’t really care much.

“I saw. You don’t mind if I invite your grandma and grandpa, right? They’ve been hoping to see one of your competitions for a while now.” He asked her, honest.

Sachiko shook her head, her locks of black hair moving with her. “Of course, I don’t mind. I’d love to have them there.” She said sweetly with a bright smile.

“Perfect, because your grandfather has been on my case about it.” Eijiro moved to take his phone out of his pocket but paused. It was then he noticed that Sachiko’s hair was curled. Long curly thick locks of black hair that fell to the middle of her back. He paused as he tilted his head to the side. “You curled your hair?” He asked surprised.

Sachiko put a hand to her curls. She nodded her head shyly, a soft blush on her face. “Yah… I thought I could do something different today.” She spoke softly, clearly a bit self-conscious about it. She flicked her eyes back up at him. “Is… is it okay? Does it look nice?” She asked worriedly.

Eijiro let out a soft breath, before giving her a genuine smile. “You look perfect, sweetheart.” He gave her hand a squeeze as he shoved her softly. “My precious little diamond.” Sachiko brightened up, her posture straightened up as she smiled up at him happily.

The elevator door opened and Eijiro led the two of them out into the underground parking. It wasn’t a very usual thing for Eijiro to drop his daughter to school, normally his personal assistant would drop and pick up Sachiko back into Eijiro’s care but with her on maternity leave it meant a new routine. It was, however, not exactly unwelcomed from the pair so it wasn’t too much of an adjustment.

Eijiro opened the door for her, allowing her to enter the door first before getting in himself. Sachiko watched as he put on the engine and slowly started to reverse out of parking. She looked at her father for a moment before putting on the radio to listen to the news. Her grandfather often told her that it was important to hear about your world at least once a day, whether it be on the news or radio or some other way. She tried to stick to that as best she could, because she trusted in her grandfather and how he got to be the man he was.

Eijiro focused on the road as the radio host spoke on the morning show. Suddenly the mention of a certain name pricked his attention. “…the trendsetters in fashion, the Bakugous, have once again broke barriers in the fashion industry with their new more affordable line for spring season. Bakugou Katsuki has talked about expanding branches out of Japan for the family own deal-”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Eijiro started, “Mind putting on some music this morning?” He asked her rather nonchalantly.

Sachiko shook her head as she looked to her father for a moment before moving to media. Eijiro held the stirring wheel hard but focused his attention on getting his daughter to school and making it through the horrible morning traffic.

Finally making it to the private prestigious middle school that was nestled not too far out of the city. Eijiro smiled as he looked to Sachiko who grabbed her bags and undid her seatbelt. “Okay, Daddy, remember that I finish at four. I added it to your alarms so that you know when you should leave the office. Don’t forget to eat your lunch and good luck with your presentation.” She spoke, moving to place a kiss on his cheek, before opening the door as the car came to a still.

He chuckled. “Thank you, Sachi. Have a good day at school, sweetheart. I love you.”

Sachiko paused at the door, holding the door open still for a second before putting on a soft smile. “I love you too, Daddy.” With a wave of goodbye, she closed the door and easily found her way to her friends that stood near the entrance waiting for her.

Eijiro let out a soft breath as he watched her leave. She reminded him so much of himself as she talked with her friends with a broad smile on her face, her red eyes bright and happy. It was as if every day she was growing more and more and it scared Eijiro half to death. He knew he was an old sap but he couldn’t help but beam in pride at the sight of her. His daughter. She was his everything and he hoped she would always remember that.

Eijiro sat behind his monitor screen, his eyebrows furrowed as he had his phone to his ear as he typed away at his keyboard. He listened to the phone call he was on as he absently typed at the document he was working on. “Yah… yah of course.” He nodded his head to the person on the other side of the line. Walking into his office was his older sister who also just so happened to be his boss. Eijiro nodded as he leaned back in his chair. “Send it our way and we’ll take a look at it. Alright, thank you.” He put down the phone, moving his phone back down onto his desk. He let out a breath.

“You look stressed, Eijiro.” Eijiro flicked his gaze up to his older sister, Akari as she walked over in her black heels over to his desk. She moved herself to sit on the edge of his hard wood desk, crossing her long legs as she folded her arms over her chest. The tall woman looked down at her younger brother amusedly. “When was the last time you had fun, hm? Go to the bar, get a drink, or maybe even get laid.”

He rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his black cushioned chair. “I don’t have time right now.” He told her, moving to look at his calendar on his widespread monitor. “Without Hanako picking up and looking after Sachiko, I can’t let loose right now.”

Ever since him, Eijiro stopped much care about romance and finding love. It was a sad thing, however it allowed Eijiro to focus on the single most important thing in his life, and that was his daughter. Nothing else mattered to him. She was the reason that he worked so hard, the reason he stopped dyeing his hair and accepting himself how he is so that she would never need to feel different about her own, she was the reason he was so engrossed in his family once again in order to raise her.

Akari rolled her ruby eyes at her younger brother’s excuses, not surprised at all. “Yah, it’s probably for the best.” She stated, making Eijiro nod his head in agreement. “We can’t handle another one of your accidental baby mamas.” At that comment, Eijiro looked up with a glare making her chuckle. “Kidding, kidding.” She stated putting her hands up in self-defence.

“Don’t you have better things to do Akari, other than bully me?” Eijiro asked as he pushed himself out of his chair and moved to grab a drink from his mini fridge.

Akari looked at her manicured nails. “Well of course I do, Eijiro, being CEO to a multi-million-dollar diamond industry is a lot of work as well as being next Head of the family by default. However,” She tilted her head, her soft black locks brushing her forehead just slightly as she smirked at him. “Tormenting you is what helps me sleep at night.” Eijiro rolled his eyes as he moved over with a can of soda, handing it to her. She chuckled easily opening it. “You are my favourite employee.”

“You just say that because you’re allowed to abuse me more than the others.” He spoke plainly.

She nodded, not denying it as she took a sip of the grape flavoured drink. Eijiro sat down as he sighed shaking his head. “Come on, Eijiro, you’re so dramatic. Even more dramatic than my surrogate and she’s pregnant with my child.” She reminded him.

Eijiro turned to look up at her. “How is she?”

Akari immediately put down the can and took out her phone. “Absolutely glowing. She looks gorgeous with my child inside of her, look!” She swiped to a photo of said woman, shoving the phone screen in Eijiro’s face to see. “She’s great, being pampered at home because she doesn’t know what it means to take a break. The doctor said that everything’s great with the baby and my new little girl should start moving around soon.” She swiped showing Eijiro the ultrasound scan.

Eijiro looked up at his sister as she started to ramble on about the new baby yet to be born and all that. Akari already had three boys that she carried herself when she was married to her husband, however after her husband died of cancer, she never really wanted any other man after that. He was her one and only and even if she did find someone else, they would never take the place he had with her or her sons. She always did want another baby, but she didn’t want to get off of work. Eijiro thought she was probably scared about being put back in a time in her life where she had her partner to support her.

Akari was the type of woman to work hard to where she was today. She worked hard as the eldest daughter of Kirishima Takeo to prove to him and the other family members that she could head the company after his retirement. She proved that she could do it all. She could be a mother, she could be engaged in her family life and she can do her job without feeling weak about it. Even when she was pregnant, her other siblings were there to fill in the gaps like they always were in the Kirishima family.

Eijiro was proud of her and admired her a lot more than he would ever say to her face. “I’m glad. You ever need me or Sachiko’s help, we would be more than willing to be over.”

Akari moved to slide off his desk, standing up straight in her black jumpsuit. She put a hand to her broad hips as she waved her other hand down. “No, it’s alright. Ma already has her bags packed for when it’s the third trimester. She’s determined to be there for the boys and I.” Even though she rolled her eyes, Eijiro could see the appreciation behind those eyes.

Before Eijiro could comment, his phone rang. He raised an eyebrow at the unknown number but moved to answer the phone. “Kirishima Eijiro, speaking.”

“Kirishima-san, this is your daughter’s home room teacher Ms T.” Eijiro perked up at the voice. “Unfortunately, we need you to come to the school, Mr Kirishima. Your daughter was in a fight.”

“A fight?” He asked confused as he tilted his head confused. It didn’t sound like his Sachiko at all.

“Yes sir. We will tell you more when you get here.”

“Is she alright? Is she hurt?” He asked quickly as he got up from his desk. Instantly, Akari looked worried at what Eijiro was saying.

The homeroom teacher hesitated for just a second and that was enough to have Eijiro worried beyond belief. “She’s fine, Mr Kirishima. We just ask you to come as soon as possible.”

“Okay, I’ll be there soon.” He put down the phone and immediately moved to switch off his monitor. His movements were rushed and yet pretty accurate for having his mind clouded with all possible scenarios. “Sachiko was in a fight.” He spoke out without Akari needing to ask.

The older woman had her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Oh my goodness, is she okay?” She asked as she followed him as he slipped his laptop into his bag.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to be exc-”

“It’s alright, Eijiro, just go.” She dismissed automatically as she followed his hurried footsteps out of his office. She glanced at him, watching the way he frowned, a scary sight that reminded her so much of their father. Almost something mixed with worry and yet almost anger. Akari knew it wasn’t aimed at his daughter, but at the poor soul who decided they could touch his daughter. “You need me to come with you?”

Eijiro shook his head as he pressed the down button for the elevator. Some employees watched in interest as the two Kirishima seemed to be in a rather bad mood today. Nothing was ever good when two Kirishimas were upset together. “No, it’s fine. I’ve got this. I’ll call you later.” He notified her just as he stepped into the elevator. “And don’t tell Abba, not until I know what’s going on.”

Eijiro slammed his car door as he moved towards the school entrance with large strides. Standing at the entrance was his daughter’s homeroom teacher, Ms T. He had met her only twice before, once at the beginning of the school year and another time at a parents association meeting. He didn’t mind her all that much.

At the sight of him, she bowed at the waist, always being instructed to do so with such high paying patrons of their school. “Mr Kirishima.” She greeted, before leading him inside.

“Where’s my daughter?” He asked not caring much about pleasantries or caring enough to take the time to look around at the school and its impressive clean hallway or foyer.

Miss T, tried her best to keep up with him at his large strides as she scurried forward, her heels clacking against the marbled floor. “She’s in another teacher’s office as we speak, but I’m taking you to the principle’s office.” She looked up feeling his gaze on her. He had an unimpressed look on his face, a single black eyebrow raised up at what he hoped was not a teacher joke. She looked away from him, clearing her throat. She led him up a flight of stairs before reaching a door that led into the principle’s secretary’s space before walking into the principle’s office.

The principle, an older gentleman with a frown on his face as a woman seemed to be basically shouting at him from across his desk as she sat in her cushioned seat. The older thin-haired man seemed rather exasperated from her rambling. Standing in the corner was another teacher who kept to herself beside the other woman.

The principle, Mr Tanaka, upon noticing Eijiro immediately stood up from his chair. He bowed. “Mr Kirishima, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Eijiro nodded his head at best as he moved to sit down in the other free chair beside the other woman. The two teachers decided to step to the side, almost like silent spectators as the door was closed and finally the issue could be addressed. Mr Tanaka cleared his throat as he put his hands in front of him. “Kirishima-san, your daughter as well of Mrs Fujihara’s daughter were in a bit of a… dispute.” He put kindly. Eijiro had his arms crossed over his chest as he sat up straight. He didn’t say a word as he kept his eyes on Mr Tanaka. “Miyu and Sachiko got into an argument, some words were said and Miyu ended up pushing Sachiko.” He explained slowly. “Which resulted in Sachiko spraining her wrist.”

“What you’re telling me is my daughter was assaulted.” Eijiro summarised frankly.

Mr Tanaka hesitated for a moment, but Mrs Fujihara didn’t seem to have the same restraint. “My daughter did not assault anybody. She can’t commit assault in the first place, she’s eleven.” She spoke boldly and loudly, trying to stand up for her daughter who Eijiro considered lucky she wasn’t here.

Eijiro glanced down at her with a scowl instantly raising the tension in the room. Eijiro effectively ignored her as he looked back to Mr Tanaka. “What were the girls arguing about?”

Immediately everyone in the room seemed to not have an answer for him. He looked to the principle who looked through the report that was given to him not even five minutes ago. Mrs Fujihara also suddenly seemed to be at a loss for words as she turned to look away from Eijiro with a huff. He raised an eyebrow as he looked to his daughter’s home room teacher who also seemed not eager to answer his question.

“Mr Kirishima, I can assure you that it was nothing serious and has been resolved amongst the girls-”

“That is not what I asked, Tanaka.” Kirishima said with a roll of his eyes. “I asked about what were the girls arguing about.”

“Mr Kirishima I can assure you that-”

“Sir.” Taking Kirishima’s attention was the teacher who was already in the room when he had entered. You were dressed professional and yet cute as well. Eijiro looked at you, not remembering ever being introduced to you before nor hearing your name. You kept your eyes down away from him as you bowed deeply and lowly. “I was the teacher on duty when this happened and I sincerely apologies for what transpired. I was busy helping another student and if only I was more attentive this could have been avoided.” You started, your voice sincere and almost filled with sadness about what had happened. “To answer your question, Miyu was teasing Sachiko about her parentage, sir. Specifically, the fact that she… she only has one.” Eijiro went still at the words you said. “Sachiko proceeded to speak about supposed allegations concerning Mr Fujihara and Miyu then pushed Sachiko off her chair. I was just able to separate the fight before anything else could happen.”

The room was silent after you finished speaking, no one truly knowing what to say. Mrs Fujihara cleared her throat as she motioned to you. “As you can see, your child, Mr Kirishima is-” Her words stopped in her throat as dark ruby eyes flicked to look at her. Eijiro’s face was emotionless as he hadn’t said a word since you had started speaking. She swallowed down hard as she decided against speaking again.

Eijiro’s eyes than flicked to Mr Tanaka. He let out a breath as he tried his best to relax in the chair he dwarfed. He kept his hands on his lap, his grip tight. “I send my daughter to your school, and this is the type of actions you allow to take place here?” He asked lowly, his temper only increasing the more he wanted it to diminish.

Mr Tanaka put on a nervous smile as he chuckled, sweat appearing on his forehead. “Sir, that is-”

“What’s so funny, Tanaka?” The principle went stiff. Kirishima didn’t smile, glaring at the man opposite him. “You find my daughter being bullied funny?”

The other parent in the room turned to Eijiro shocked. “My daughter,” Mrs Fujihara started. “Is not a bully. She-”

“Such incidents don’t happen in isolation. Tell me, have the girls fought before? Physically or verbally?” He asked, dismissing Mrs Fujihara all together as he stared at the principle. Mr Tanaka was at a loss for words, not entirely sure on what to say or how to comment. He scratched the back of his head. Eijiro’s jaw tensed in annoyance. This was getting him nowhere. He turned to you. “Has this happened before?”

You hesitated, glancing at your boss he seemed rather adamant about you not saying anything. You looked back to Eijiro. The large man had hard ruby eyes but behind them all you saw was slight fear. “Yes... It has. Verbally with light shoving and all that, nothing major. We have talked to Mrs Fujihara about her daughter’s behaviour to other students before.” You told him honestly.

“And yet nothing was communicated to me?” He asked lowly, glancing back to look at Ms T, his daughter’s homeroom teacher. She was silent as she lowered her demeanour almost not wanting to face him. “I see...” He folded his legs over one another and faced Mr Tanaka. “Considering that communication is so lacking in this school’s community, you shouldn’t be surprised if communication about the Kirishimas’ sudden leave as a main sponsor to this school is also... lacking.”

Mr Tanaka sat up in worry. “Mr Kir-”

“What punishment is Miyu receiving?” He asked straight to the point.

Mr Tanaka paused for a moment. “Suspended for three days and on detention for two weeks.” He notified him confidently in the punishment they were giving to her.

Eijiro was silent once more as he took a moment to think it over. He huffed with a nod. He turned to look at you, startling you slightly. “Where is my daughter?”

“I-In my office.”

With a grunt, Eijiro stood up. Your eyes widened at the pure size of him. With him standing right in front of you, it made you feel so small just looking up at him. He radiated the same presence he did when he first entered, power and control. He looked rather stern and other than in looks (which he looked identical to his daughter in), you wondered how such a man could raise such a sweet girl. “Please take me to her.” It was more of a demand than a request. You nodded your head as you motioned towards the door once more.

Mr Tanaka cleared his throat as he too stood up. “Mr Kirishima, we’ll talk more about this over the phone.”

Eijiro ignored him as he followed you out of the room. You walked by his side, your small body trying to lead the way through the halls as he followed beside you. He noticed your hurried steps trying to make sure to keep up with him. He slowed down for a moment, allowing you to take the lead at a better pace for you.

You noticed it almost instantly, which you smiled at as you led him down the corridor. Then you paused. You turned back to him with a bow once more. “I… I have to once again apologize, sir. Really, I wish this never occurred. I apologize for my negligence.”

“Please, you aren’t responsible for other people’s actions.” Eijiro reminded you with a stern look with a stern look as he folded his arms over his chest. He let out a sigh as he looked to the side. “I apologize for my behaviour. You are all trying to do your jobs and here I am-”

“No.” You quickly stepped forward closer to him, catching Eijiro by surprise. You looked up at him with urgency in your eyes and yet something kin to understanding. “You don’t have to apologize. You are a father worried for your child. It is only to be expected.” Eijiro’s eyebrows raised in surprise at your words. It was the last thing he was expecting from a teacher, especially with what he had just said to all of you. You gave him a training smile, gentle and easing. “Besides, I’ve seen worse parents.”

He let out an amused scoff. “I bet you have.” He spoke out lowly, the tone of his voice sending a shiver down your spine as you tried your best to keep your composure. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I got your name.”

You perked up at that fact. “Oh! I didn’t introduce myself.” You bowed at the waist, your hands in front of you as you closed your eyes. “Ms L/N, but Ms Y/N is just fine, the kids prefer to call me that.”

He smiled and for the first time since you knew him you saw something just like his daughter. That beautiful smile. “Ms Y/N...” He said your name trying it out on his lips. “Kirishima Eijiro, Sachiko’s father.”

You giggled, which made the edges of Eijiro’s mouth tilt upwards. “I know who you are Mr Kirishima. Your daughter talks a lot about you.” You revealed to him, as you motioned for the two of you to keep moving.

Eijiro raised an eyebrow in intrigue. “Really? What does she say?”

You shook your head with a smirk. “That’s between Miss Kirishima and I.” You kept your lips sealed.

Eijiro chuckled at the statement. He raised a single eyebrow in intrigue, glancing down at you amusedly. “Between you and Sachiko, huh?” He asked you amusedly. You nodded your head agreeing with his statement. He hummed not convinced which only made you giggle. “So you and Sachi must be close to be gossiping about me.”

“We don’t gossip, sir. We just comment.” You reasoned earning a scoff from Eijiro. “You’re daughter and I…” You hesitated and yet Eijiro saw a soft expression on your face, gentle and calming. “Your daughter is real special. She’s such a good girl, always doing her work and trying her best in her classes. She’s such an interactive learner too, which makes her such a pleasure to teach last year. She’s very respectful and kind. You raised her well, sir.” You reported to him, sincere and true.

Eijiro looked down at you for a while before a proud look went to his face. He smiled. “Thank you and please, don’t call me sir. You’re making me feel old.”

You giggled lightly. “Old? There’s nothing wrong with being more mature than others.”

He rolled his ruby eyes at your wording. “Don’t compare me to wine. You seem rather…” His eyes caught on you as you walked beside him. You looked up at him with wide eyes attentive and capturing his very soul. His ruby eyes trailed your body for a moment. His breath caught in his throat as he chastised himself for checking out the young cute teacher that was leading him to his daughter. He closed his eyes and held his hands behind him, gripping his hand hard enough to try and distract his thoughts to more pure ones. “You’re way too young to understand.”

You chuckled with a shake of your head. “I am not that young.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Jesus.” Eijiro let out as he looked away from you, making you laugh. “Now you’re making me really feel old.” He commented.

You paused at the door of a classroom, looking at him with a smile that held something behind it. “Well you know what they say about wine, Mr Kirishima.” You leaned forward slightly exposing a bit more of your chest to him unbeknownst to you. “It tastes better the older it is.” You moved to open the classroom entering first.

Eijiro had to pause for a moment, briefly closing his eyes for a second. He took a breath, praying he can get through this without having the urge to pound into you on the closest desk.

He recollected himself and entered in following you. The classroom was brightly lit, decorated in a way that showed your personality so well. It was bright with colour and personality, it seemed like an enjoyable place to learn. He looked around surprised at the whole format of the middle school classroom, however he tried to remain focused as he watched you move to a door not too far from the entrance of the classroom. You motioned for him to follow you.

You opened the door. Inside was a small office space with shelves on the walls and a multitude of maths textbooks. So you were a maths teacher? However, taking all of his attention was his daughter who sat in the cushioned chair behind a desk drinking from a cup of tea and eating biscuits. The girl looked over to the two of you. Her eyes widened at the sight of him. “Daddy...”

“Sachi!” He quickly moved towards her, forgetting everything around him. He crouched down at her side, his ruby eyes moving to the wrist brace that was on her left arm. He gently moved to touch her arm, his eyebrows furrowed in worry,

Sachiko quickly saw the worry in his eyes. She forced a smile onto her face. “I’m fine, Daddy. I managed to land on my left arm so I can still write. I’m okay, it was nothing bad. I’ll be alright.” Her words were laced sweetly with a smile on her face and yet you watched her father not smile. You moved to close the door, wanting to make sure that anyone who came into your class wouldn’t disturb the two of them. You stood outside the door, giving them the room.

Eijiro frowned as he looked up at her. He reached a hand up to her face, caressing her cheek as he looked up at her. “My sweet little miracle...” He spoke lowly. “They’ve been hurting you, haven’t they? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Eijiro watched as Sachiko kept her smile for a moment, looking at her father. Suddenly her smile started to waver as she looked to him, her beautiful crimson eyes becoming glossy and filled with tears. Her smile was replaced with her frown as she bit her bottom lip trying her best not to sob. Small whimpers left her mouth as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Eijiro quickly picked her off the chair and held her to his body, holding her head gently and rubbing her back. He shushed her sweetly, but it only made the girl cry harder. She clutched onto his back harshly as she cried in his arms. Eijiro held her tightly as she cried. “It’s okay, my little miracle. Daddy's here. Daddy’s always here.” He comforted her, placing a kiss on her head. The sound of her crying made Eijiro tear up. “I'm sorry Daddy wasn't there to protect you.”

She sniffed as she turned her head trying her best to breathe through it. “Daddy... they... they were so mean to me. I didn’t wanna cry, Kirishimas don’t cry.” She shook her head as she tried her best to stop her tears.

“Oh sweetheart,” He moved to angle her head up to look at him. He gave her a gentle smile, his own eyes being glossy. “Even dragons cry.” That only made her face break as she buried her face in his chest. Eijiro let her cry as much as he wanted, patting down her hair and allowing her to compose herself on her own. “I know that people can be really mean, and they say awful things, but that’s why we have affirmations. We have to affirm who we are and that we aren’t what people say we are.”

“But what if we are what people say we are?” Eijiro grew stiff for a moment. Sachiko looked up at him with a frown. “Daddy... I don’t have a mommy like the other kids.”

Eijiro tried to keep his composure, he knew this would come eventually. “That doesn’t make you any less than them.” He reminded her. “It doesn’t make you any less my little miracle. Yes, you don’t have a mother, Sachi, but that doesn’t define you as a person. You are a kind and loving young lady and you are so loved by me, your grandparents, your aunts and every single person that has the pleasure of knowing you. Okay?” She nodded her head as she wiped her face. Eijiro took his handkerchief and wiped her nose making her whine in annoyance. He chuckled. He pat down her hair before cupping her face in his large hands. “I love you, Sachi.”

She gave him a gentle smile. “I love you too, Daddy.”

Eijiro gave her a kiss to her forehead before scooping her up. While she dusted off her skirt with her good hand, Eijiro pushed in the black cushioned chair. “Hey sweetheart, Ms Y/N is she one of your teachers?”

Sachiko shook her head as she watched him. “Not this year, but she was last year. I ended up in a different maths teacher’s class this year, unfortunately. She’s so nice, Daddy. She lets me sit in here sometimes whenever Miyu and the others pick on me during lunch when I’m not with my friends. She even let me eat her cookies sometimes too.” Sachi spoke with a smile on her face.

Eijiro nodded his head as he put a hand on her shoulder, leading her out of your office. You stood in front of the door, almost as if you were keeping watch, making sure no one would disturb them. The gesture was noticed and appreciated by Eijiro. You turned at the sound of the door opening. You smiled.

Sachiko moved to stand in front of you. She bowed to you. “Thank you for everything Ms Y/N.”

You chuckled waving a hand down. “It’s no problem, sugar.” Surprising you, Sachiko moved in for a hug, which you happily took up. You held her tight in your arms, squishing her with a light laugh. Eijiro stood watching with a smile on his face, finding the action cute. You let go of Sachiko. “Don’t worry about maths homework. I told your teacher and he said he’ll have you catch up in class tomorrow.”

“Thank you!”

You hummed with a smile. Eijiro smiled with a grateful nod. “Thank you for taking care of my girl.” He spoke sincerely.

“It’s a pleasure, sir.” You bowed. “Now, excuse me but I need to prepare for my next class. Sachi you can show your father the way out, right?”

She nodded her head dutiful. “Yes, ma’am.” With a wave to you, the two of them left you alone in your class.

Ever since then, Eijiro couldn’t really get you out of his head. The cute, nice teacher that his daughter seemed to really like. He couldn’t blame her. You were really pretty and he couldn’t stop about how soft you seemed. Eijiro half thought himself a creep for crushing on you. You were ten years his junior for goodness sake. And yet... that didn’t stop his thoughts.

It sure also didn’t help that close to two weeks later there was the Parents Association meeting at school and you were there too. He was shocked to find you there.

Eijiro stood talked to the head of the PA, discussing the next fundraising event for the school when something caught his eye. He glanced to the side and saw you. You stood with another parent, having a rolling bag beside you as you spoke leisurely with a kind demeanour. Once again you were somehow dressed modestly and yet you were so eye-catching. Eijiro could barely focus on what he was in a conversation about.

“Yes, I think if we can raise about 10% more than last year-” You bowed your head to the parent and gave her a wave before moving towards the exit of the school building. Suddenly Eijiro felt rushed for time. “Right. Of course, well lets talk more about it over email. I’ll see you soon.” Eijiro said his goodbyes and tried not to act as if he was running towards the exit after you.

You stood outside, the sky already dark as you looked around for a moment, almost thinking about what you were to do now. Eijiro paused somewhere behind you, trying to get the balls to approach you right now. He let out a breath and stepped forward closer to you. “Ms Y/N.”

You turned to look at him, wide eyes staying on him. You smiled and Eijiro thought he would trip over his entire being. “Mr Kirishima, good evening.” You bowed over to him, standing pretty in your short, heeled shoes.

“I didn’t know you were part of the PA.” He started as he moved closer to you, his hands in his pockets.

You paused before chuckling. “I’m not. I was just working late. I really do want to attend but it often inconveniences me in travel, like right now.” You expressed with a sigh as you looked away from him for a moment.

Eijiro raised as eyebrow. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

You turned to him, noticing the concern in his ruby eyes. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at you. You shook your head with a soft smile. “Nothing, it’s just that I have to get an uber to take me back home. That or I get to the bus stop, but I think the buses have stopped for the day.” You spoke as you took out your phone to check the schedule again.

Eijiro fished out his keys, unlocking his car. The huge Ford track flashed up to life, making itself known in the dark parking lot with a low rumble. “Come, I’ll drop you home.” He spoke as he took your bag for you and started making his way to his Ford Raptor.

Your eyes widened at the action and you quickly scurried after him. “It’s alright, sir. I’m okay. I can travel home myself.” You tried assuring him.

Eijiro waved a hand down. “It’s okay. What type of man would I be if I let you go home without making sure you were safe?” He asked rhetorically.

He moved to put your bag inside the back seat leaving you to stand beside his truck in surprise. The vehicle looked extremely expensive. A bit too expensive for your standards. You weren’t surprised though. This wasn’t just any private school you worked for. The parents here were wealthy with enough connections to the government to keep the media out of the face of the school. You weren’t surprised at all and yet you still felt flustered at the sight. Eijiro closed the back door and walked over to you. He opened the door for you, offering a hand to help you into the large Ford that was much too big for you to get into normally.

You chuckled. “Thank you.” You took his hand, his large warm hand that was more gentle than it seemed, so certain in helping you. You slid inside, allowing him to close the door after you. As he closed the door, you took out your phone and texted your best friend who also was your roommate. You sent her your live location. Rather be safe than be sorry.

Eijiro got into the driver’s seats easily without a second of difficulty. He started up the engine and easily started to ease his way out of the parking lot. “You’ve got someone waiting for you at home?” He asked you as he focused on getting out of the school parking manoeuvring his larger than life car that suited him come to think of it.

You nodded your head. “Yes. My best friend Melissa.” You informed him.

“I want you to send her your location, also punch in your address into the GPS.” You looked to him in surprise that he would suggest it. He glanced at you and smirked in amusement. “I’m not going to kidnap you, but you can’t always trust people instantly.” He reminded you. “I’d want my daughter to do the same thing the moment she’s allowed to travel by herself.”

You were a bit surprised that he was thinking about your safety, and to be honest it made your face feel hot. You nodded your head. “I already did.”

“Good girl.” He spoke. You froze at the praise, trying to fight the heat to your face as you tried to focus on anything else. You watched him easily drive like it was second nature out of the school. He kept one hand on the steering wheel at all times, his sleeves pushed up to his elbow, exposing his forearm to you. “So… how was school?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the question. The sound of your laughter made him grin at the cheesy question. “It was fine.” You informed him honestly. “Have to grade some papers so it might be an even later night for me, but that’s alright.” You told him. You turned to look at him. “How was your day?”

He shrugged. “Boring work stuff.”

“Well, I’d love to hear about your boring work stuff.” You told him genuinely, looking at him.

Eijiro glanced at you unsure but let out an amused scoff. “I had to secure a sale of some products that we’re dealing with. That went surprisingly well. I was expecting more of some difficulty.” He expressed to you.

“Really? That’s great news. What products do you deal with?” You asked him, interested in more than you were just told about him.

Eijiro hesitated. Now it wasn’t that he wanted to lie to you, it was just that he had been through enough situations to know to be cautious about talking about what he did when especially since you didn’t know what he dealt with. It was a bit relieving actually. “Just raw materials.” He told you rather casually.

“Did you always want to go into business?” You asked him casually.

Eijiro slowed down as the two of you hit a red light. “Not really.” He told you honestly. “To be honest, I didn’t think myself as much of a corporate guy. Did you always want to be a teacher?”

You nodded your head. “It’s a calling. You have to do it if you have a calling, the else there’s no point.” You told him, truthfully with a fond smile on your face. “I like the thought of making an impact in someone’s life, even if it’s just for a short time. There’s so much more to teaching than just a syllabus. There’s caring for a child and ensuring their welfare and that they are able to learn in a productive and safe atmosphere. I just love the job cause I get to be surrounded by things I love.”

“Like maths?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “You and your daughter are just the same.” You pointed out. “You really need to stop that mindset of you can’t do maths. It’s affecting her.”

Eijiro shrugged almost as if he couldn’t help it. “Kirishimas can’t do maths. I mean, we multiply pretty well but-” You gasped as you looked at him shocked. That made him laugh at your expression as he continued on forward. “It’s true. I have nine sisters, there’s ten of us in total.”

“You’re the only boy?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows in shock.

“That’s what shocks you?” He asked amusedly. “Not the ten kids?”

“Families come in all shapes and sizes.” That made him chuckle, but he nodded his head to your reasoning. “So what did you want to do if you didn’t want to go into corporate?” You asked raising an eyebrow.

Eijiro sighed at the question. He glanced at you, flexing his thick fingers. “Don’t laugh.” Automatically a smirk pulled to your face making him grumble. He let out a sigh as he decided to say it. “I wanted to start a gym.”

“Really?” You asked with a disbelieve chuckle. However, it made sense to you especially with how fit he seemed. His body was built like a brick house, showing he must be strict when it comes to his work out regime. “Why didn’t you?” You raised an eyebrow.

The dark-haired man beside you let out a breath as he dragged a hand through his hair, moving to the left. “I had just graduated with my business undergrad when Sachi was born. I could have followed my dreams, but dreams aren’t certain. My parents own the business I currently work for and my sisters also worked for them too. I wanted to ensure that Sachi got every opportunity and every single fund possible to ensure that should anything happen to me, she had it. Dreams might make me happy, but it might not ensure her happiness.”

You watched his face carefully. Worry lines on his face and yet you saw the phantom smiles as well. It was clear that he worried about his daughter a lot, that he was dead set on ensuring a future for her and yet he seemed to also love every second of that journey. Almost as if nothing, not even his dreams would come in the way of how important his daughter was to him.

You couldn’t help but have an adoring smile on your face at the sight of it. Eijiro glanced at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise at the look on your face. You hummed. “You’re a good father, Mr Kirishima.” You expressed, your voice gentle. “Sachi’s very lucky to have you.”

He paused for a second before letting out a gentle scoff. “Actually… I’m lucky to have her.” He took a moment before clearing his throat. “So when you aren’t teaching what do you do?”

Talking to Eijiro was almost as easy as breathing. He made it so easy almost as if you weren’t talking to someone you barely knew. It was almost as if you were talking to a friend. Sooner than you had hoped, you had arrived at your apartment building.

Eijiro peered up at the building. It wasn’t in the safest part of town but it was good enough that he wasn’t too concerned about you and your safety. He moved to exit the car, you tried pushing open the big heavy door. By the time you opened the door, Eijiro pulled it open the entire way, offering you a hand out. You gratefully took it, standing on your own two feet. He got your bag out for you which you were very much happy to receive.

“Thank you so much, Mr Kirishima. You’ve saved me and my pocket a bunch.” You spoke sincerely with a bow at the hip. “I don’t know how I could repay you.”

Eijiro shrugged keeping his hands in his pockets. “Give me your number.” It was a simple statement, closer to a demand than a statement but it still made your heart stop for a moment.

You raised an eyebrow with a smirk. You stepped closer to him, keeping your hands in front of you as you stared up at him, doe eyes in tow. “Rather demanding now, aren’t we? What do you want to do with it?”

“I want to talk to you some more.”

“Why?”

Eijiro’s ruby eyes never left your form, his heated gaze slowly moving up your figure making the pit of your stomach twist and burn in need. He let out a breath and smirked. “I know what I want.” He answered simply. “And you’ve intrigued me.” He took his phone out and handed it to you.

You looked up at him, not breaking eye contact, you took his phone. You focused on punching in your number before handing it to him. You looked him over before letting out a hum. You took the handle of your bag and turned to leave. You gave him a small wave. “Good night, Mr Kirishima.” You spoke simply, leaving him for the night.

It was late when you finally decided to wrap up marking for the night. You were tired and also way too drained to continue. The numbers were starting to look like sentences, and you saw that as time for bed. When you had just got yourself cosy in the covers that’s when you noticed the notification on your phone.

Eijiro: Hope you got up to your apartment safe.

You couldn’t help but start grinning like an idiot as you shot him a reply back.

You: The stairs gave me a bit of trouble, but don’t worry, I got them handled.

Eijiro: Careful now, never say never.

Eijiro: They trip you up when you least expect it.

You tried to bite back your giggles at the cringey dad joke, a voice at the back of your head telling you that you wouldn’t sleep tonight.

-Glitch1d

#kirishima #mha x y/n #kirishima x reader #dad kirishima #dilf kirishima #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro #kirishima eijirou #eijiro x reader #eijiro kirishima x reader #bnha eijiro kirishima #eijiro kirishima

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nicole-timey-wimey-stuff · 2 days

Text

It Was Enchanting to Meet You

Lord Debling x Fem reader

Lord Alfred Debling x female Bridgerton reader

Synopsis - You’re the second eldest Bridgerton daughter, being forced by your brother to finally debut. You believed the ordeal would be terrible, that was until you meet the handsome Lord Debling, the handsome stranger soon captivates your mind and heart.

Warnings- fluff, period drama, feelings, very small amount of angst, confessions, great sibling relationships, suggestive themes but no smut. Still 18+ though please.

Word count- 4.7K

Today was the day, the day you were coming out into society, you’d put it off long enough. Being that you were only a year younger than your elder sister Daphne, and a year older than Eloise who were both already out. But your mother hadn’t pushed you and for that you were thankful, your eldest sibling Anthony though was another story. He had all but told you enough was a enough, and even though he would not ever force you to take a husband, you needed to be out in society despite your disagreement with it.

He did not want the great Bridgerton name tarnished, with people starting to talk of the strange girl in the family who did not conform to society’s norm, who did not like social situations, a girl who spent her time fencing, reading and horseback riding. You were a free spirit, one who preferred the wind in her hair, rather than constricted dresses, dancing and polite conversation.

So now just having turned 20 you were being launched into the world around you. This brings you back to today, your mother was flapping making sure both you and Francesca looked perfect, creamy white gowns adorning your bodies, lace perfectly placed, your dress was accentuated with gold floral embroidery and tiny puff sleeves. You adjusted your long white gloves once more before exiting your room, “Ah y/n there you are my love, have you seen your sister I can’t find her anywhere, she is not in her room!” Your mother Violet frets, she’s looking pale and exhausted. “Call down mother, I’m sure she is about, I can hear music are you sure you haven’t checked it is not her playing?” You ask.

“Oh! No I have not, come, we shall go check together.” She replies, gently grasping your wrist and tugging you down the staircase In search of your sister, you are sure she only holds onto you so she cannot loose you too.

Walking into the drawing room you find it was indeed Francesca playing the piano forte, your mother breathing a big sigh of relief, she is also dressed ready to go. “Well then my children let’s get going shall we?” She asks as she ushers us all out to the carriages, turning to you and Francesca she says “You both look so beautiful!” Voice full of emotion. “Thank you mother” you both say in unison, she nods before you all enter the carriage and head off to the queens palace.

The whole thing went by in a blur, you walked down the aisle, bowed to the queen then exited out to the side, you’d all entered out into a garden party where people were mingling happily. Your brother Colin who had just returned from travels, was boasting to the young ladies, causing them to fawn over him. Penelope Featherington sadly watching from the sidelines, you were very aware of how she felt for your brother, being the same age you had spend many moments together. Although you wouldn’t call her a close friend, it saddened you to see her aways watching him with such hopeful but sad eyes.

You decided she could do with a distraction so you made your way over to her, “Hey Pen, how are you? I haven’t seen you about the house recently?” You ask, she jumps, obviously you’d caught her very much deep in thought. “My goodness y/n you scared me” she gasps hand on her chest, “Sorry Pen, we were both on our own so I thought I’d come talk with you” you explain. Her face softens then “Of course, you can always come talk to me, I know how hard this must all be for you” she replies her face now sympathetic. “Yes, I do so hate public attention, but alas my brother thought it was necessary” you sigh, nodding Penelope gave you a look of understanding, “We must all be pushed out into society sooner or later, I was just 17 when my mother decided I needed to be out. And look over three years later and I’m still just sat here with no suitor prospects, I wish I could find a husband” she groans, “What? Why? You’ve never seemed too interested before?” You ask.

With a sigh she turns to you “In all honesty I need my privacy, and I just cannot stand living with my family any longer, at least your family is supportive and kind, mine can be just awful” she complains. You nod, you understand, her family have always been difficult especially her mother! “Well then Pen I hope you find a kind, loyal man to be your husband this season, you deserve some happiness” you tell her in earnest. “Thank you y/n, you do too, whatever that is for you, you deserve happiness too” she says as she walks off, leaving you once more to your thoughts.

Would you find happiness? What was happiness to you anyways?

________________________________________

That evening you were attending your very first ball, nerves settled deep within your stomach. There would be many people attending Lady Danbury’s ball, and you were hoping to quietly blend into the crowds, not causing any reason to warrant any unwanted attention. Anthony had insisted on you being present, he had also given you a list of people he had chosen for your to converse with.

Your dress though, that you had chosen for yourself, it was a deep maroon, corseted down to your waist, it then flared out into a subtle A line ballgown. It had thick off the shoulders straps, sparkling embroidery and a skirt that swished as you moved. You wanted something that felt more freeing, compared to the tight empire line gowns that were the norm. Giving yourself a last once over you sighed, although you looked like a princess, you felt absolutely ridiculous.

Entering the party was as equally nerve wrecking as bowing to the queen this morning, walking down the steps after your brothers and sisters you felt all eyes shift to you, you held your head hire and floated down with all the grace you could muster, it must have worked because once you’d reached the bottom all eyes were still glued to you. Your mother came rushing to meet you, “You did well, you entered as gracefully as a swan” she gushed, you rolled your eyes at her enthusiasm, “Well mother my plan is to not cause any unwanted attention, I don’t want them thinking I am some wild animal that cannot be tamed” you sassed back. Tutting she guided you through the crowds to meet some new people, what you hadn’t noticed though, were a pair of very entranced blue eyes belonging to the one Lord Alfred Debling watching your entrance.

“Who is she?” Lord Debling asked Lady Danbury, “That would be Miss Y/N Bridgerton, second eldest daughter of the Bridgerton family” Lady Danbury answered. “I see” he replies eyes still watching you intently, Lady Danbury smirks knowingly, “I may also add, she only debuted this morning so from what I gather she is very much on the market, so to speak” she smiled. “Is that so?” He asks eyes still enchanted by you. The pair hadn’t noticed Cressida Cowper Joining them, not until she spoke up causing them to both jump slightly, “I’ve heard she’s a strange girl” she abruptly interrupts, “And where have you heard that Miss Cowper?” Asks Lady Danbury, her voice full of exasperation.

“Well I’ve heard she prefers the outdoors over social gatherings, she rides her horse bareback at some speed I may add, I’ve seen it myself. When I’ve called on Eloise this summer she’s either sprinting through the country on her horse or she has her nose in some weird book” she explains amusedly. “I don’t see how that makes her strange, but rather it makes her unique” Lord Debling affirms, “Well also” Cressida stutters out trying to find something more vexing to say about you, “Ah she also fences, she sword fights with her brothers, isn’t it incredibly odd, incorrect even for a young lady to sword fight?” She points out. “I dare say! Does she really?” He asks Lady Danbury, “Yes I believe she does” Danbury replies, the smug look is soon wiped off Cressida’s face though when he turns back to Lady Danbury, “That is incredibly impressive, what a young lady she is! I will go introduce myself” and with that he leaves in search of you.

He finds you over by the drinks helping yourself to one before retreating to the corner, “Miss Bridgerton? Are you quite alright? You appear to be hiding in the corner” he asks. You bow quickly “Lord Debling, I’m quite well thank you, just not one for large social gathering's” you answer honestly. “Ah, no me either actually, I prefer to be outdoors” he responds. You smile up at him shyly “I do too” you agree, “Riding Percy gives me much more joy than this” you continue, choking on his drink Lord Debling gasps “I beg your pardon you what?”, “Percy, he’s my horse, a Suffolk punch, my brother Anthony bought him for me for my birthday a few years back, I most enjoy riding him through the countryside, where it’s nice and quiet” you explain,

“Oh of course, I heard from Lady Danbury that you enjoy riding, he conveys, cheeks bright red now from his misunderstanding. “Lady Danbury spoke of me? To you?” You ask confused, “Umm yes, I happened to ask after you” he admits, you offer him a smile “I see and what else did she happen to say about me?” You question teasingly causing him to smirk, “Nothing much else, just that this was your first season” he stutters out now feeling very put on the spot, “Oh yes well I put it off as long as I possibly could, but my brother is forcing me to try this year” you confirm, “Is it so very bad?” He asks, teasing smile on his lips, “Well maybe not as bad as I had made it out to be in my head” you admit.

“Well then, would you care to dance?” He offers, hand outstretched towards you. “Yeah ok, why not, in the name of trying new things of course” you smile, “Of course” he repeats, clearly amused by you. He walks you out to the dance floor as everyone lines up, ready for the dance to begin. As the music plays he spins you around the dance floor, your eyes never leaving one another’s, its almost as if there’s static energy between you, your hearts pounding in your chest, you can tell everyone is watching you both, but in that moment all you can see is him.

“Is that your daughter Violet, dancing with Lord Debling?” One of the mothers asks, “Yes” your mother laughs, “I dare say it is” her face is lit up at the way your both staring at each other, thoughts of Daphne and Simon’s first dance entering her mind. This looked very promising, she thought you’d be the hardest to convince to give this whole ordeal a try, but you were entranced by the man before you, and it was Francesca who had made a rather hastily exit home already.

Lady Danbury joins your mother, “He asked about her you know, the second she entered the room” she tells your mother, knowing smirk still plastered on her face, “Did he?” Your mother asks, “Yes, he seemed very much intrigued by her, maybe we’ve made a match already” she implies, “Maybe…….. I will speak to my daughter once we are home” you mother decides. Nodding in agreement Lady Danbury takes her leave.

Once your dance comes to an end you bow and move to walk away, thinking he would have other young ladies to dance with, a soft grip of your hand causes you to turn, coming face to face with Lord Debling once more, “May I call on your tomorrow?” He asks, “Yes you may” you give a curt nod before leaving with your family.

This night had gone much better than expected, you thought to yourself whilst laying in bed, you felt excited to see what else was to come.

________________________________________

The next day you’d woken up early, to get yourself dressed for your sword fighting lesson, hoping you’d have time to freshen up before anyone had any callers, you smile to yourself at the thought of seeing Lord Debling again today. Bounding down the stairs you met your instructor Henry, “Good morning Miss Bridgerton, are you ready?” He asks, “Yes I am” you affirm, “Very good, although I don’t see how you need any more lessons now, I’ve taught you everything I know, and you have mastered it all”, you grin “Why thank you Henry, but I can tell you why I need my lessons” you reply, “And why is that Miss Bridgerton?” He asks, “Because I enjoy them” you laugh as you get into position.

Your two eldest brothers had joined you now, you were currently practicing against Benedict, completely loosing track of time. “Why do you encourage this Anthony?” Your mother asks, “Well dear mother I think it’s good that a lady knows how to defend herself, no one will ever mess with our little y/n now will they?” He questions playfully, rolling her eyes she waves him off as she leaves the room.

“Ha! I win again! Really Benedict are you even trying?” You goad, sweaty and exhausted he gives you the are you kidding look, “Yes dear sister unfortunately I am!” He grumbles, Anthony snorts out a laugh “Well I dare say these lessons are paying off, you have quite the talent” he praises you, “Thank you brother” you smile. Just then one of your maids enter the room, “Someone’s here to see you Miss” she announces, realisation hits you! Oh no Lord Debling has arrived and your still in your fencing clothes.

Walking in he smiles at you, you bow nervously before rambling out, “I’m very sorry I lost track of time my lord, please excuse me for a moment while I go change”, “Nonsense don’t worry about it, I’d love to see you in action” he answers, “Really!?” You ask surprised, he nods in response, you look to Anthony motioning for him to come join you, but he puts his hands up in surrender, “Oh no, watching Benedict loose all credibility was quite enough for one day, I will go find my wife, as I promised her a walk this morning.” He replies, “I’ll spar with you” Lord Debling offers, “Oh I couldn’t ask that of you my Lord” you hastily reply, “You’re not asking, I’m offering” he affirms before removing his jacket and placing on Benedict’s fencing armour.

Anthony lets out a laugh, “Perfect” he announces, before turning to Lord Debling “Don’t let her win, she will know. She is incredibly able” he confirms before leaving to find his wife. “Well are you ready then?” Debling asks you, “Yes, quite ready” you smirk back. As the two of you spar the static energy returns from last night, you fall into an effortless rhythm against one another, he fights well, there is technique and power to his moves, but you are just too quick for him, eventually knocking the sword from his hands and pointing yours to his chest in victory,

“I say! You are rather good at this aren’t you” he laughs, “Yeah I think it’s because I enjoy it so much” you agree.

“You Miss Bridgerton are an incredibly rare flower indeed” he says, “Thanks” you reply warm blush adorning your cheeks, “Will you save me a dance at tonight’s party?” He asks. “Yes of course” you reply maybe a little too hastily, “Well then, until tonight” he offers placing a delicate kiss to your knuckles. Before leaving he looks back towards you once more, giving you the most endearing smile.

You were very much looking forward to seeing him again tonight.

________________________________________

Over the next few weeks the two of you became much more acquainted with one another, you danced together at every party, usually more than once, you took chaperoned strolls together in the park and your family had also invited him over a couple of times for dinner.

You’d learnt much about him, his love for animals and wildlife, the fact he didn’t eat meat, all his adventure and conservation ideas, you’d become completely enamoured with this man, It appeared he also was with you too.

Today you were both taking a stroll in the park, the sun was warm and the smell of blossoms filled the spring air. Your maid was walking a few steps behind you, keeping a watchful eye. “Beautiful day is it not?” You ask him cheerfully, enjoying the sunshine on your skin. “Yes it is, but I can see something much more beautiful” he replies watching you carefully, you turn your head to hide your reddening cheeks. “Will you be attending the garden party tomorrow? I hear there will be a new form of transport being showcased” you ask, “Yes I believe I will be attending” he responds while smiling at you, grinning up at him you offer a nod in response.

“Well I bid you farewell Lord Debling, I have promised to help my mother this afternoon, I will see you tomorrow?” You offer, “Yes I shall see you tomorrow, good afternoon Miss Bridgerton” he replies. You spare him one last glance, before you walk off with your maid.

________________________________________

It was the day of the garden party and you were stood looking at the enormous ballon in awe, was that really supposed to be able to carry people through the sky? “Quite spectacular isn’t it?” Lord Deblings voice cut through your thoughts causing you to jump, “My Lord, you gave me a fright!” You gasped, “I am sorry, that was not my intention” he responds “That’s ok, it is spectacular yes, although I do worry how it’s supposed to transport people” you reply.

“Yes quite, but I suppose only time will tell, are you well Miss Bridgerton?” He asks, “Yes, thank you my Lord I am very well” you affirm, “Good” he nods.

As the afternoon goes on Penelope, Eloise and Cressida join in your conversation, Cressida going out of her way to try and impress Lord Debling, not even caring how desperate and contrary it makes her appear. Penelope spends the whole time staring at Colin and Eloise is pretty much rolling her eyes at everybody’s antics. Cressida continues to laugh at something he said, almost hanging off his arm, causing a pit of jealousy to stir in your stomach.

You turn your attention once again to the large ballon, which is now rocking very unstably in the wind, creaking and groaning as the ropes loosen. Just as they snap your brothers are rushing over to pull them back, using as much strength as they can muster to pull the thing back into place. All you can do is watch in terror as they lose control and the ship comes hurtling towards you, it all happens so quick, one miniute you’re watching terrified, the next you’re on the floor Lord Deblings body shielding you.

“Are you quite alright?” He asks gazing into your eyes, “Yes all thanks to you”. He carefully traces his fingertips down the side of your jaw, you watch him with wide eyes, wanting nothing more than to lean in and kiss him. Someone loudly clears their throat behind you, you both jump apart, turning to see Cressida and Eloise watching you both.

Lord Debling jumps up before offering you a hand up too, “What luck you were there to save my sister, thank you my Lord” Eloise states, “Of course, it was nothing” he replies before walking off.

“What was that y/n?” Eloise gasps, “I hardly know” you reply, completely shocked yourself.

________________________________________

That very evening you arrived at the ball still very much in shock, more so by Lord Deblings behaviour than nearly being squashed by the heavy ballon. Your mother currently had you making small talk with every eligible Lord in the room, “Mother is this really necessary?” You grumbled as you made your way over to yet another man, “Yes my darling daughter it is, until Lord Debling actually proposes you must keep your options open” she insists, “But Anthony said I do not have to marry this season, only that I must be out in society” you ask confused.

“Yes I know my sweet girl, but every year you’re on the market the less desirable you become, now make haste” she commands, you roll your eyes at her as she drags you through the crowd, “Lady Bridgerton, Miss Bridgerton, how nice to see you both” Lord Cambell greets, “Lord Cambell, lovely to see you again” you reply with a very forced smile. “Would you have any space left on your card to include a dance with me?” He asks, you stutter before your mother replies on your behalf, “My daughter would be delighted”, you resentfully offer your wrist and card for him to write his name on, before bowing and leaving to find some corner to hide in.

After no empty corner is found you retreat to the gardens in hope of some peace, leaning against the cold stone of the house you close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Miss Bridgerton you should not be out here alone” Lord Deblings voice causes you to jump, “My goodness my Lord! Must you always startle me so.” You gasp, “Sorry I never intend too” he replies in earnest, “But you really shouldn’t be out here alone” he repeats as he steps closer, “Yes I know, but I need a minute to breathe, it’s awfully stuffy in there, and my mother is being a nuisance….” You trail off, voice stuttering as he steps closer once more, “By nuisance you mean by parading you around the room, like a prized animal?” He smirks, “Yes” you stammer, feeling more breathless than before if that was at all possible.

He carefully moves a piece of hair from your face, “Do you not wish for the attention of the Lords here tonight Miss Bridgerton?” He asks, “No, not from those ones anyways” you whisper, then in a flash his mouth meets yours, it’s passionate and gentle, it’s fire but also calm. Your fingers grasp his jacket as you pull him in closer, moulding your body to his own, his fingers move from your face to your neck, tilting your face to give him better access. His other hand grasps your thigh as he pulls it over his hip, grounding down into you causing a low whimper from your lips, moving from your mouth he kisses down your neck, nipping at your sweet spot, your hands slide into his hair as you grind into his hips once more.

Your movement causes him to gasp before quickly pulling himself away from you, leaving you a breathless mess. “I shouldn’t have done that” he worries, “My Lord?” You ask confused and worried, “I shouldn’t have put you in that position I am so very sorry” he repeats and your heart sinks, was he going to reject you now? Were you about to loose all credibility? Sensing your despair he quickly comforts you, “What I mean to say is that shouldn’t have happened before I asked for your hand, I do not wish to dishonour you, if you will have me and your brother agrees to it, I would very much like to make you my wife” he confirms, “Really?” You ask.

“Yes really, I am quite enamoured with you my dearest y/n, I came here to the Ton to seek out a wife, I thought I could find a match of convenience, one where I could travel and my wife would happily stay at home managing my estate. I did not think love was in the cards for me, I believed that my work would take up too much space in my heart for that, but then I met you, and my goodness did you change everything” he explains.

“Is this a confession of love my Lord?” You ask still very much breathless.

“It is yes, I didn’t come here to seek it which makes this as much a surprise to me as it is to yourself” he replies.

“I love you too” you admit, which causes his handsome face to light up, “I too did not believe this would happen, when my brother asked me to debut this season, I admit I hated the very idea, but I’m so very glad I did as it lead me to you” You confess.

“Well then my love, I believe I have a question to ask your brother” he replies, his hand seeking to find your own, grasping his with yours you reply “I suppose you do”. He gives you one last kiss on your cheek before heading inside to seek out your brother. You are still stood against the house, breaths still racing as you trace your lips with your fingertips, the tingling of his kisses still present.

Upon entering your home that evening Anthony stops you “Y/N may I speak with you a moment?” He asks, “Yea of course brother what is it?”

“Lord Debling has asked for my permission to propose to you, he says he has the deepest of feelings for you and he wishes you to be his wife, I know him to be a very kind man, one who obviously wouldn’t ever hurt an animal or a woman, he has a great estate and great prospects, so if it’s what you want I will agree to it at once, but I told him I had to talk with my sister first” he explains.

You smile knowing how deeply your family cares for each other, this is something you will never take for granted. “Truth is brother, I love him very much, I didn’t think it were possible to find someone I could fall for so deeply, but here we are” you reply.

“Very well then I shall give him my permission” Anthony affirms. You walk over and give him a chaste kiss to the cheek, “Thank you brother” you respond, he nods giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze before wandering off.

You were going to be married! Not only that to a man you love, you felt such happiness in that moment your chest could burst.

________________________________________

The next morning whilst reading your maid walked in announcing Lord Debling was here to see you, you nod at her to let him in.

“Hello my love, are you well this morning?” He asks as he enters the room.

“I am quite well my Lord thank you” you smile.

“Please call me Alfred, such formalities feel no longer necessary”

“Very well Alfred, but then you must call me y/n so we are on equal terms” you reply.

He laughs, “Of course, my dearest y/n, so I’m guessing it’s no secret to as why I am here?” He asks.

“Well I have an idea, but I will need you to clarify” you respond with wit.

“Very well Miss y/n Bridgerton” he begins before getting down on one knee, “You have bewitched my heart, and I’m asking if you will do me the extraordinary honour of becoming my wife?”

Walking towards him you kneel down in front of him, reaching out and tracing his stubbled cheek, “Yes Alfred, I will marry you” you gush before moving in and placing your lips against his, in a sweet soft kiss.

Just then all your family enter the room offering congratulations, you thank them all but your eyes never leave his, as you think to yourself yes you believe this will be a very happy marriage indeed.

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