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deansapplepie · 5 months

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The Spitting Image | Part 1

Summary: Years passed since last time you saw your ex-boyfriend and father of your son. Fate decided the perfect moment for you to reconnect was after the end of the world.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! Reader

Warnings: swearing, threatening, someone is punched, mentions of violence, mentions of doing harm to children (none of the characters, it’s just a thought), walkers, mentions of injuries, a little angsty. Minors do not interact. (If I forgot anything let me know)

Word Count: 4,419

A/N: It was supposed to be a one shot, but it was getting too big and I wasn’t in the middle of it, so I’ll make a mini series of it.

The reader’s son is 17 yo, so if you don’t feel comfortable reading something self insert having a kid this age, it’s up to you.

Here I’m supposing Daryl is in the beginning of his 40s when they get to Alexandria to make sense the age of his son.

Also, I have no idea how are the laws in the U.S.A. To register your children, so if it’s not possible to register a kid with the name of the father without the father, let’s pretend in this universe it is.

Series Masterlist Part 2

Main Masterlist

It had been days that you were out there with Aaron and Eric, you had found a possible group to invite to Alexandria. While you and Aaron was observing them from afar in the road, Eric was in a nearby city waiting for you.

That group seemed like a good group, they took care of each other and shared. They also had a kid and a baby, it needed to mean something. As a mom, you could clearly identify with their struggles and want to protect every kid you came by, unless it was a psychopath kid that wanted to kill you and your son, then… you had no empathy.

United and righteous people were exactly the kind of people you needed for Alexandria. It seemed as they were hungry and thirsty you had some supplies you could give them to help. Hiding on the trees you could only observe them using binoculars as you needed to remain far from them because of safety. You had never zoomed to observe them this much before, but there was something intriguing you and you didn’t voice it to Aaron yet. He was one of your best friends back in Alexandria, but you had to make sure.

There were a guy, all wearing black. He had a sleeveless black shirt that showed his toned arms, he seemed to be tall and had really broad shoulders and a relatively long hair. He carried a crossbow, and even though he was as tired and week as everyone else, he tried to not let it show. You only knew a person like this, but it had been so long since you last saw him that you thought this was your mind playing games with you. You were so young back then, you changed so much… he probably did too, probably you even crossed paths before the world ended and you didn’t recognized each other. But you had to make sure it wasn’t him so just your mind would relax and you could control your anxiety.

That’s why you were zooming the binoculars to the maximum and focusing solely on him, expecting him to look to a side so you could clearly see his face. He did, and when he did your heart stopped for some milliseconds and you thought all the air was drawn from your lungs. “Holly shit!” Was the only thing you were able to say, so glad now you could openly curse, because there wasn’t any child around.

“What’s it?” Aaron asked curiously and you passed him the binoculars unable to say anything. He looked at it, zooming out and couldn’t see anything extraordinary. “I don’t see anything. What did you see?”

You rested your back on the trunk of the tree that you were both sitting on its branch. You tried to breath in and out, just like your therapist had recommended you when you started to treat you’re anxiety.

“Y/N, what happened?” Aaron asked again turning his attention to you and holding your hand, which you accepted gratefully.

“I… I think my ex is in this group.” Oh my God. You were freaking out! It wasn’t as if you had ended bad, well it depends on the point of view, but seeing him after all this years, after all that happened, after…

“You think?” Aaron asked one more time, if it was your ex why you sounded like you were not completely sure.

“Yes, it was a long time ago. We were barely adults, so we changed a lot, but I’m 98% sure the archer is him.” You said continuing your exercise and taking your canteen with shaking hands to drink some water.

“Oh… let me check him out and see if you have good taste in men.”

“Aaron!” You protested the most silently you could. “Well, you may surprise a little when you see him, he is…”

“… DJ’s father! Holly crap!” He looked at you as if he had seen a ghost as the man looked exactly like the teenager boy he knew back in Alexandria, of course the man was way older than the boy. “Do you have an uterus or a copy machine in your belly?”

“Ok, if even you can see it’s totally him.” You said and you didn’t know if you were relieved or anxious, probably both at the same time.

“Ok, so… is he a good person to take with us?” He had to ask, even though you were good friends, you never talked much about him, it seemed to hurt you a lot, so he never pushed.

“Yes, of course. Don’t think I’d have named my child after him if he wasn’t.” You answered. It wasn’t his fault or yours, you just had to blame people like your parents that thought they were better than everyone else. “It’s just that it has been so long after last time we saw each other, I’m just nervous to meet him again.”

You tried approaching them by letting water and food as a gift for them on the road, but they just rejected everything, they were suspicious, they probably went through a lot of shit. You don’t blame them, you’d react the same if it was you. A heavy storm caught you by surprise, you needed to find shelter and protect yourselves. Once you saw the group entered a barn, you decided to go back to your RV and wait the next day or the storm pass before approaching them more directly this time.

The next morning the weather had improved, so you left again to where they were. At distance you saw two women near to the location of the barn, you approached them and presented yourselves and minutes later both of you were on your knees, hands behind your heads and an angry man in front of you. But before the said angry man could do anything or ask anything, the archer came from the shadows and your name left his lips. “Y/N”

“Daryl.” You replied a smile on your face, you wanted to keep a more straight face don’t be so pathetic about how you were happy to see him there alive, older and hotter, but you couldn’t, because it had always been like that, you’d see him and you wouldn’t be able to control yourself. You’d open the biggest smile at him and would have your heart racing with excitement and anxiety.

“Do you know each other?” The angry man asked Daryl, but you replied. You couldn’t hold your tongue, you were anxious and when it was like that, you’d say even what you weren’t meant to say.

“We dated.” You answered, also you knew that Daryl would die of shyness if he had to say you dated or anything like this. That’s if deep inside him he was still that boy.

The man you came to know the name was Rick Grimes shot you a look that said ‘I wasn’t talking to you.’ and then looked back at Daryl in hopes he would confirm it or not. “Yeah, it’s true.”

“If she’s his ex, she’s no good. We should better don’t believe them.” You saw a ginger man with a big mustache speaking.

“Listen here, Obelix. You better not bad mouth me again or I’ll beat you so hard your mustache is going to end on your ass!” You were normally sweet and polite, but you’d never let anyone judge you, or anyone that you loved, especially this person that doesn’t even know you.

“Definitely related to Daryl.” An asian man said and couldn’t contain a small laugh, even in the state the group was.

Daryl had a smirk on his face and you couldn’t read what it meant. The Rick guy didn’t took it easy on you just because Daryl knew you, he argument people could change and he wasn’t wrong. Most of the time he hold the conversation with Aaron and you were glad about it, Aaron was better at this than you were, even though you could bring a sense of comfort most of the times when you approached women or groups with children, this wasn’t a situation where Aaron actually needed you. Unless they decided to kill both of you or something else, then you’d have to play the last card you could with them and that could only be used with them, because of Daryl. You’d need to use your son to convince them to let you go, and you’d hate to do such thing. Using your son to blackmail someone was never something you’d like to do.

You remembered the day you first had the courage to talk to him, you had always thought he was cute and cool, but you never had the courage. Until a day your “friends” excluded you and you didn’t even got to know why. You were 16 and they were so immature to do such thing, so yeah, it was their loss you thought. That’s what you tried to say and convince yourself you were better without them.

At lunch time having no table to sit, you went straight to his table, that was it, your opportunity to get to know him. “Can I have a sit here?” You asked in front of him.

“ ‘m not the owner of the chair.” He said, eyes on his plate. “But ya won’t want to be seen with me sweetheart.”

“Thanks.” You put your tray on the table and took the chair in front of him. “I’m Y/N.”

“Daryl. We already know each other. We had a subject together. Once.” He remembered! You were ecstatic, of course you’d remember him, you developed a huge crush on him since you had to pair up, but you didn’t expect him to remember you. You didn’t think you were as cool as the other girls to be remembered. “Ya still have time to maintain the integrity of yer reputation and leave.”

“I have no reputation to save, my friends simply decided I’m not cool anymore, so… fuck them, gonna make whatever I want.” He snorted, he never thought he’d live to see you cuss. You never looked like one to do so. “What’s funny?”

“Thought you never cussed.”

“Well, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me Dixon.” You replied and from this time you started to pass more and more time together, starting a strange friendship that was the commonest thing for both of you, but people outside loved to judge.

Most of the time they were discussing, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. It was as if you did, he’d disappear into thin air. In the end Rick sent a group to your RV to confirm if you were telling the truth and threatened killing you if they took too long to comeback. After they came back, Rick agreed to go to Alexandria but they would drive and you should tell them where it was, and then started again another drama.

“How are we supposed to trust you? Maybe you got another group and a radio and you’re going to attack our place. We have children and elders, we can’t risk.” You tried to reason with him, even though you knew you were in a small number and you’d never win this ‘battle’.

“Don’t you trust Daryl?” Rick threw this card. Really?

“How am I supposed to when you didn’t believe me and he did nothing to tell you were wrong and I could be trusted?” He knew you were right, not even for a second you thought Daryl wasn’t the same, but you had a point and even he knew it.

In the end you had no option but give in to their requests. You took them to the nearest city so you could take Eric too and while fighting against walkers he got his ankle hurt. Not longer after you got back to the road and in direction of Alexandria. While going there you tried to make some small talk with them, but most were not very open to it.

“What’s her name?” You asked Daryl that had a beautiful baby in his arms.

“ ‘s Judith.” He answered, he looked at her with such adoration. It was adorable to see such a big and rustic man being so tender with a baby in his arms.

“She’s so pretty.” You always wanted a baby girl, but of course you were more than happy with your baby boy. It was just a silly girl dream to have a daughter so you can play doll with them. “Can I hold her a little? There’s a long time I don’t get to hold a baby.”

Despite the common silent agreement of the group to not trust you just yet, he trusted you and was sure you’d do nothing against his ‘lil ass kicker’. So he let you have her a little in your arms and she continued to sleep peacefully. Carl observed you with the eyes of a hawk, ready to end you if you did anything wrong against his little sister, but you didn’t.

“Is your family with ya?” Daryl drawled by your side while you were mesmerized by little Jude. He wanted to know if your asshole of dad was still around and also your mom, but he couldn’t ask it like this, he didn’t know how your relation with them were after everything, he didn’t want to offend you.

“It’s just me and my son, but he’s not this cute anymore and I no longer can carry him in my arms like that.” You replied, wishing he’d have curiosity about DJ, but also afraid of where this curiosity could take you in this moment.

“What’s his name?” He asked trying to be polite, but deep down it hurt him that you had another lover and had a child, he couldn’t control this, but it was painful anyway.

“DJ.” You simply said, god you didn’t want to reveal at this moment your baby was Daryl Dixon Junior. Before he could ask the name and not the nickname, you threw another question at him. “Did you get any of my letters?”

He was taken aback. You tried to keep contact with him. You tried to reach him out. “Did ya send me letters? I… Ididn’t know. I left with Merle shortly after what happened. Probably old man got them.”

By his surprise you believed he really didn’t know. He never read the letters. He never ignored you or pretended your son didn’t exist. Deep down, you knew he’d never do that, but you never could confirm it, because you never got to see him again. Until now.

A little after Carl took Judith from your arms, you already had enough. He couldn’t let you more than you were supposed to with the baby. While your mind wandered to the past, Daryl’s were a turmoil trying to decipher what could be the name of your son, since you gave no detail.

The day prior he had warned you ‘wear sneakers tomorrow, you asked why and he just repeated what he said before. So you did. There was almost a year since your friendship with Daryl Dixon started and at that moment, he was your best friend. Sometimes he’d stay with you studying in the library or just hanging out around the city. You trusted him.

Next day, you arrived at school and found him next to an old blue truck. “What’s that?”

“A car.” He answered the obvious.

“I know dumbass! But where did you get it?” You asked curiously, he had never gone to school in one.

“I borrowed it from Merle without telling him.” Which means he stole his own brother, at least for some hours. “I’m returning it later, probably won’t even know about it. He’s knocked out in his bedroom.”

“Ok, if he catch us, I’m telling it was all you.” You played with him, but you knew Merle would never catch you, at least not before Daryl arrived at home with it.

“It actually was.” He shrugged. “Also, no way he’d believe a sweet thing like you helped me in any of that.” You instantly blushed, it wasn’t always that Daryl would throw sweet words or compliments at you, so every time you’d not fail and blush. “Did ya wear sneakers?”

“Yep.” You put one foot in front of you to show your sneakers.

“Pink? Really?” He teased you, he knew for sure you’d wear at least one thing pink and you were always wearing sandals or any other more delicate shoes.

“I don’t have many sneakers, so… yeah.” You retracted your foot to stand close to the other again.

As soon as the bell rang you entered the school and went to your classes. In the end of the day, you got together at the parking lot ready to spend your day together. “Where are we going?” You asked curiously.

“Get in the car and you’ll see.” He replied going to the driver’s side.

“Ok, Dar. I’ll let you be all mysterious while I die out of curiosity.” You dramatically entered the truck and took the passenger sit.

You drove for some time and even got outside the city. You knew he was familiarized with the forest, he told you he’d hunt, but you never thought he’d bring you someday near it. “You know I know shit about hunting, don’t you?” You asked while the car stopped close to a small trail.

“Yep, dun worry. I didn’t bring ya here to go hunting. It’s something else, wanna show you a place.” He slightly touched your hand reassuring you and you could swear it sent a delicious tingling sensation all over your body.

He got out of the truck, took a bag in the truck bed and waited for you so you could start the trail. There was 5 minutes you were walking when you tripped and almost fell down, leading to the boy to hold your hand until you arrived at your final destination.

It was a waterfall, a beautiful one, with a small lake. The water was a beautiful green surrounded by big rocks. You got all excited with the sight and gave your biggest smile to him, which made his heart flutter and stole a small smile from him.

You took your sneakers off and both of you sat on a rock where you could put your feet in the cold refreshing water. There was the shadow of a tree that made it bearable to be outside there in the warm weather. You loved how Daryl was relaxed and just enjoying the place and your company, you could talk a lot or talk nothing and it would be perfect for him.

You don’t know what made you do that, but the moment just felt perfect to speak your mind to him, actually speak with your heart. “I like you, Daryl.”

“Yeah, we’re friends of course ya do.” It was obvious if you didn’t you wouldn’t be around.

“No, I like you in the way I’ve been crushing on you for years and just now I have the courage to say, yay…” you said, trying to be a little funny so the moment wouldn’t be so embarrassing, but it would be already too embarrassing if he just rejected you at that moment.

He looked at you impressed and thinking how you could like him for so long if everybody in the school, no, in the damn city thought he was a sore loser and a scumbag. “Are ya sure?” He double checked, just in case.

“I wouldn’t put myself in this embarrassing situation with risk of you rejecting me and losing your friendship if I didn’t.” You turned to look at him and were struck by his deep blue eyes that seemed to see your soul every time you looked into it. “It’s ok if you don’t feel the same, I’ll…”

Before you could finish your apologetic sentence, his lips crashed on yours and his hand held yours one more time, and that was the first of many kisses you’d come to share in the following years.

You woke up startled, the RV came to a stop. You were finally at the gates of Alexandria, you and Aaron got off first and the rest of the group followed you and once the gates were open you could see that at the same time they were cautious they were also impressed with the place. You entered the gate and Deanna came to welcome the new people. Aaron took Eric to the infirmary and before you could excuse yourself and go home take a good bath and spend some quality time with your child, you saw the tall teenager in his 17s running in your direction. You suddenly worried, he would see him. Both of them would see each other. You smiled at your baby boy that wasn’t a baby anymore, and he hugged you tightly even taking you from the ground. He had became so tall in the last years that it was funny to see the difference of his height to his mom’s.

Daryl was frozen in place, when he saw the young man running in your direction it was as if he could see his younger self in the past, but he wasn’t hallucinating or anything like that, because that boy that looked so much like him had also many features from you. The group looked surprised at the boy, probably thinking the same thing Aaron thought when he landed his eyes at Daryl. A million thoughts ran on the hunter’s mind, this kid just could be his… he had too because no way someone could look so much like the other and don’t be blood related, especially being the son of your youth lover.

“How are you baby?” You asked cupping DJ’s face with your hand and checking his face to see if he was healthy and well.

“I’m ok mom, are you good?” He asked back observing you, he had always been such a good observer.

“We need to talk…” you started to say but couldn’t finish because the boy’s eyes landed on Daryl some meters behind looking at both of you.

DJ knew, you told him before how he looked so much like his dad. So he knew when he looked strictly to an older version of him. He put you aside and walked strong steps on Daryl’s direction, you yelled his name but he just ignored you and before you could stop him, he punched his father right on his jaw.

“DJ! No!” You put yourself between both of them.

“No? Mom! He never cared about us and now he just shows here like this? He ignored all the letters you sent and the pictures of me, and…” he bursted the feelings trapped on his chest all those years. He had the perfect speech on his mind, he elaborated it for years just to end his father and make him ashamed of what he did, but now he didn’t even say half of it and the rest stayed stuck in his throat unable to come out as tears accumulated in his blue eyes.

“It’s ok. I probably deserve it.” Daryl said from behind.

“Honey, it’s not like this. We don’t solve anything like this. You don’t know the whole story.” You rested your hands on your son’s shoulders.

“You mean the edited version of how he never cared about us, or looked for us? I know you never told me everything, I’m not stupid. And I also know men are bastards that don’t care about discarding pregnant women!” Shit. Shit. Shit. Things were getting out of control the boy was causing a scene.

“Listen to me, Daryl Dixon Junior! I’m your mother and I’d never name you after your father if he was this kind of bastard!” You firmly told him, there were so many years that you didn’t call him by his whole name that he knew he would be in trouble if he didn’t obey you at that moment. “Now, apologize, go home and wait for me.”

“Fine.” The young man said teeth greeted. “I’m sorry for punching you because you’re an asshole.” With that he turned around and left before you could lecture him one more time in front of everyone.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Daryl asked. Obviously not talking about the past, it was clear to him that you tried in the past.

“I wouldn’t dare use my son to bring you to safety. I know you’d come if I said, and your group… I know this kind of bond, you’re family. I didn’t want to be selfish and make all of you come because I used DJ to convince you. I wanted you to come because you wanted, because you trusted what Aaron and I were offering.”

He couldn’t understand well about it, he wasn’t a father till some minutes ago… even though he wished he was one long before, the kid really had a personality, reminding him a lot about himself and even about Merle. But he could try to understand, to listen to you and if he stopped to think, it didn’t made a difference if you told before or now, he would still have the same feeling of anxiety, excitement and lost, lost for all the years and everything that he lost not being around his son.

“I’m sorry you had to discover like that.” You apologized even though you knew in no way it would be less shocking for him. “We have a lot to talk, the three of us… of course, if you want to.”

“Yeah, we need to talk. I wanna know everything and I wanna know him, if ya allow me and if he wants.” He was quick to answer. God, how could you even give him a choice? He had to do it.

“Great. So… I’m gonna let you finish solving things with Deanna, when you are free, come to my house. It’s the one with the magenta pink doormat.” You give some steps backwards, eyes still on him.

“Pink, hugh…” he knew everything with you needed to have a little of pink and for sure with the end of the world you could not afford pink acessories, at least you’d make sure that one thing in your life was.

“Yes…” you almost murmured. “I’ll see you later.”

“See ya…” he replied. Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)

Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl #daryl x you #deansapplepie

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hoshiseon · 4 months

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desire ♱ 001

♰ pairings :: ot8 vampire!ateez x fem!witch!reader

♰ genre :: dark fantasy, smut, strangers to ?? to lovers, fluff, maybe slight angst?, soulmates/fated lovers

♰ gen. content :: polyamory , references to religious themes, witchcraft and magick, mythical beings of all kinds, mentions of other idols, vampires with magical abilities, switches povs

♰ chapter warnings :: fear/anxiety, description of injury

♰ word count :: 8.1k 0_0

♰ note :: this took me entirely too long but hey! first chapter woohoo!! this will be my first time ever writing a series but i'm very excited :] pls give me feedback i'd love to hear your thoughts! and if i missed any warnings lmk!!

♰ main m.list | series m.list | next ♰

i've been walking for quite some time, i realize probably much later than i should. the sun had started setting long ago and now the forest was almost too dark to really see anything. but i need this mushroom. if this ointment isn't finished by tomorrow the merchants will never buy it and then how will i feed myself for the next week or so-

snap!

i feel my heart thump against my rib cage as my head whips up at the distinct sound of a twig snapping. i focus my gaze on where the sound came from and watch as a squirrel scuttles up the trunk of a large tree. i feel the tension in my body release a little. great, now i'm being paranoid. if i hadn't gotten so absorbed in that book then maybe i wouldn't have to be out here past dark searching for a damn plant. as i grumble to myself internally, i become less and less aware of my steps which is never good for someone who trips over thin air more than is probably considered normal. and in that moment, the universe seems to prove that point by way of me tripping over a large rock and falling flat on my stomach. i groan as pain shoots through my already bruised knees (from tripping prior to this). brushing off dirt and leaves i stand back up and huff. i accept defeat and turn to hopefully find my way back to my cabin. only to realize, i have no idea where i am. have i seriously wandered so far? i do a 360 and cannot recognize any of the trees surrounding me. anxiety starts to settle in my gut as i come to the conclusion i am very lost. you'd think living in the woods would teach me enough lessons about roaming said woods in the dark...but apparently not. even still, standing here will get me nowhere so i turn back the way (i think) i came from and start to make the journey back. i pray to every god there is that i do not manage to get more lost as i try to keep track of the trees that i am passing… with little luck since its only getting darker.

ssssnap!

i freeze mid step as a branch snaps somewhere behind me. whatever that was sounded much bigger than a squirrel. my heart pounds in my chest as the overwhelming fear twists my gut. reluctantly, my head turns to the sound to see nothing but a vast, dark ocean of trees. the once comforting darkness spikes my paranoia as my eyes struggle to focus on my surroundings. i hear another branch snap and whip my head to my right. still, i see nothing but darkness. this is not good. with no other option, i continue the path i started. anxiety courses through me as i walk and now im acutely more aware of every little sound, down to the puff of my own breath leaving my mouth. as the fear crawls up my spine, i start to walk faster and faster until im damn near jogging. i continuously stumble over the natural debris covering the forest floor but i keep my brisk pace, not bothering to slow down.

as my boots catch on a particularly large tree branch, i fall and look up to see that i seem to have come into a decent sized... clearing. in the middle of the woods? i push myself to my feet and look around to see a near perfect circle of space between the cluster of trees. i step farther out of the tree line and strain my eyes to try and see anything that could help me identify where i am. but i definitely would have remembered this clearing if i'd ever stumbled across it before. i've never seen anything like this in these woods besides the clearing surrounding my own home. as i look around confusedly, i forget that there was a small chance i was being followed by something. instead astonishment replaces the fear as i look around. but not for long. i start to hear the distinct sound of crunching leaves coming from my right. this time my entire body freezes for a fraction of a second and i do not turn to see whatever it is coming for me. instead i turn left and start to run. as i sprint through the tree line, i make it long enough that the clearing behind me starts to morph back into endless trees. but turning back to look proves to be a mistake as i trip once again and fall, unable to catch myself as i collide with the ground. sharp pain shoots through my knee again and i know this time i would not just have a bruise. i wince and cry as i push into the dirt to roll onto my back.

through my fear, i could only hear my boots making contact with the earth beneath me but now that i am still i can definitely hear the pursuit of something coming towards me. it doesn't sound like running but then again i may not be able to hear over the sound of my own pounding heart and heaving breaths. i attempt to scramble to my feet and push through the pain in my leg but i can only manage a weak limping jog. i feel tears pool in my eyes as i stop to lean my side against a tree. there's just no way i'll make it to my cabin like this. and there's no way i'd beat whatever it is that's following me. as the pain in my knee starts to throb, i sink lower until i'm sitting with my back against the tree. through my wallowing i failed to realize that the sound from before had stopped. as i turn my head to look around, i spot a silhouette off to my left. back from where i originally started running. it looks like.... a person? who in their right mind would be out this far? it seems like the seconds drag on as i stare wordlessly at the unmoving figure. i have no options to weigh so i wait. for impending doom most certainly. but there's nothing i can really do. trying to get up again really isn't practical and would just alert them to my location, if they don't see me already.

i blink and suddenly the figure looks a lot closer than they were a second ago. no... my mind is playing tricks on me no one moves that fast. my heart rate kicks into high gear as the figure starts to become larger. they're definitely getting closer. my reflexes kick in and i scramble with no success to get onto my feet. i hear my breath stutter and a cry threatens to leave my lips as the figure finally really comes into view and then stops. though it's still very dark, they're close enough now that i can see the person is a man. he's human looking... enough. but that doesn't really quell my fear. he's still not close enough that he could hear me if i spoke in a normal tone but i know he can see me. i watch as his head tilts to the side for a second before he starts to walk, much slower now, towards me.

"are you injured?" though he's still not very close, his voice carries and i can hear the genuine concern (and confusion) in his tone. he sounds human enough. i nod, not trusting my voice at this current moment. he walks until he's standing an arms length away and then crouches down.

"i apologize. i didn't mean to frighten you, are you lost?" oh. though i tried to focus on his words i became quickly distracted by his voice. a smooth rich tenor that made my brain a little fuzzy. i still can't see his face clearly but he has to be pretty with a voice like that. i was so caught up in my own thoughts i completely ignored his question. "oh, that may not be an appropriate thing to ask... uh if you're okay with it, i may be able to help you." he quickly backpedals once he gets no response from me. it takes me a few seconds to answer but really what have i got to lose? only my literal life. i can't get anywhere like this and there's... something about him. i would say my intuition has never done me wrong and if i'm trusting it, he doesn't seem likely to hurt me. so i nod once again and try to will the shakiness out of my voice.

"okay... i um, i can't walk." i say, my voice quiet as i look to my leg that is still in pain. he follows my gaze as if he could really see what i was referring to. nevermind the dark, he definitely can't see past the two skirts i have on and the knee high socks and combat boots. he seems to realize this fact as he clears his throat and turns back to me.

"i can carry you... if that's alright with you, of course." he answers back. he almost sounds shy... or embarrassed? not being able to see his face clearly is really bugging me but i nod anyway. he moves to make it easier for him to maneuver me before an arm encircles my waist and i'm being lifted from my seated position. i quickly swing my arm to go around his shoulders, ignoring the warmth i feel creeping up my neck, and try to hold most of my weight. once he has me mostly lifted up he scoops his other arm under my legs. i hiss when the movement causes a jolt of pain through my knee.

i feel him tense and i rush to reassure him. "i'm okay, sorry my knee is just.... i'm fine really." i say and he relaxes, letting out a soft ‘okay’ as he stands back up to full height. as he starts to walk i can't help but try and study his face. this close i can see him a bit more clearly but not by much, the only light being from the bright, full moon. i can see enough to notice his hair and the outline of his features but not much more than that. as i look at him, i feel a question bubble to the surface and can't help but voice it.

"why are you helping me?" i ask hesitantly, hoping it doesn't sound like an accusation.

"well... had i not frightened you, you would not have gotten injured. i do sincerely apologize, i had not expected you to run." he says matter-of-factly, like that was the entire reason he approached me in the first place. even though i can feel that that’s not the entire reason he started to follow me, i see nothing else to say so we continue on in silence. i watch as the trees break and we end up back in the clearing. which confuses me but i say nothing. once we're a few paces away from the tree line he stops. expecting to see nothing, i turn and look out into the clearing. except now there's a very large mansion sitting in the middle of it. my jaw drops as i stare. there's absolutely no way i would've missed that! but then i feel it. there's a subtle tremor in the air like a shimmering in the energy. magick. it tingles against my senses and if i didn't practice magick i would never have felt it. but it's definitely there. there’s no way… illusion magick is hardly used anymore and you'll find very few who are able to conjure illusions around anymore, most magick users being wary of them. so how he managed an illusion this strong is beyond me. i reach out with my senses, trying to feel the man's aura but i sense nothing out of the ordinary. he feels… normal. so how in the hell- he's..not alone. as the realization dawns on me, the mansion comes to life, lights turning on inside and out.

"ah, this would probably be a good time to mention that i do not live alone." he says sheepishly as he looks down at my awestruck expression. "most of my housemates should be asleep or off to their own activities so we most likely won't be disturbed." i don't miss the maybes in that statement.

"oh...okay." i breathe out still not believing my eyes. just as he's about to continue walking, the grand front door slowly swings open. i think i hear him mutter something under his breath but i don't pay attention long enough to try and discern what it was. the man standing at the door is tall in stature and i notice a similarity in the way they carry themselves with the grace of someone of high status. almost royal in a way. he strides down the steps towards where we stand but stops farther away than i assumed he was going to.

"who's this?" the taller man says as he looks between me and the man currently cradling me. i probably should've gotten his name. he seems to realize this too as he looks down at me with furrowed brows.

"y/n... i'm y/n." i answer instead, trying to save the awkwardness.

"and i'm yunho, nice to meet you. what...happened, seonghwa?" yunho smiles as he says it but he shares a look with his housemate, who i now know the name of, that i don't understand.

"i startled her and she fell while running. her knee seems to be injured." seonghwa summarizes but there's another look that passes between the two. like they're not just having this conversation out loud.

"ah, i see. well in that case, you're in good hands." yunho shifts his gaze to me and his eyes soften, similar to the way it would if you were trying to console a wounded animal. i can't help but smile at the kindness in his tone. seonghwa walks up to yunho and the latter turns to go back up the steps with us in tow. as we walk through the door, i'm immediately overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the interior. and we're only in the foyer! i can't even begin to imagine the rest of the mansion.

the decor is dark; a blend of black, silver, and shades of red everywhere you turn. in the middle of the foyer sits a small pedestal with a statue of a woman with devilish wings standing atop it. she stares up with long, clawed hands reaching up towards the luxurious chandelier that glitters like diamonds. the floors are dark marbled tile and the ceilings are higher than i thought was ever possible. there's a wide, curved staircase on either side leading up to what i can assume is another beautiful foyer. down the hall in front of us leads to what i can see is the living room on one side and the kitchen and dining area on the other. i can't see the details from here but i see the decor in there is also black and red. the entire place is lit up in a warm glow from the light fixtures lining the walls.

as i admire the opulence, i forget about the two men waiting with me. that is until i feel eyes on me. when i snap out of my daze i see yunho looking at me, there's a gentle smile curving his lips and w o w. in the dark i couldn't make out his features very well but... he is beautiful. even more so than his home. my eyes rove over his tall, lean figure and i try not to let my jaw hang. his brown hair is highlighted with honey blonde streaks throughout and his skin is perfectly clear. he's dressed head to toe in black with a long overcoat that brushes the back of his shins. the only color in his ensemble is the red on the inside of his coat and red accents on the undone buttons of his loose black shirt. the smile curving his lips slowly morphs into a smirk as i continue to stare. we make eye contact and i shift my gaze immediately, embarrassed at having been caught.

"we will have to go upstairs, all of my supplies are in the study at the moment." seonghwa says apologetically, though i only realized halfway through his statement that he was speaking to me. i turn to look up at him and am once again struck by beauty beyond my comprehension. no seriously, what did i walk into? and how many more of them are there?! i try (and fail) to stare less but i can't help it. his eyes are sharp, almost piercing but also kind as he looks at me. blonde strands of hair fall into his eyes and i have the strangest urge to push them away. his skin is clear even this close and he smells delightful. has he smelt like this the whole time and why have i just noticed? i snap out of it quickly enough that neither of them suspects my silence and reassure him that it's fine.

"i'll leave you both to it, i have things to attend to. but if you need anything let me know." yunho smiles and bows his head at me before passing another silent look with seonghwa. he walks away, hands in his pockets as he takes the steps. he turns as he gets to the top, sparing me a last look and there's something i can't put my finger on in his eyes. but then he's disappearing down the hall before i can decipher what his look meant.

seonghwa

i look down at the girl in my arms out of my periphery again. for the millionth time since we arrived at the mansion. i wonder if she's noticed me stealing glances at her. not likely considering she has yet to mention it. i just don't understand. she shouldn't have been able to get into the clearing let alone our home. she stumbled through the barrier completely unaware of the alarm she raised inside these very walls. we all felt it when she passed through. the dim trill in the air, a slight shift in the energy. i can still feel the way my hair stood on edge and my senses heightened. our magick is powerful, we'd made very sure of it. so how was she here? and why? from what i can tell, she seems very human. she smells very human.

she was right to have run at first but then she put up no fight coming here. it made no sense. this poor girl... she has no earthly clue what she's willingly walked herself into. or rather allowed me to lead her into. even now as i carry her up the steps, she seems utterly calm. of course i can still feel the way her heartbeat hasn't gone back to normal and i can feel the nervousness around the edges of her energy. but every time she looks up at me, her eyes are clear. no worry creasing her forehead or apprehension in her gaze. just clear curiosity. and i feel no anxiety with her here. not really. except for the swirling confusion, i feel... relaxed. definitely not how i should feel with an intruder in our veiled home. but i can sense it on yunho too. he wasn't afraid, just curious. maybe a little concerned. for her... she really shouldn't be here.

i look at her once again and can’t help but be endeared at the awestruck expression that hasn’t left her features since we first stepped through the door. her eyes are wide with wonder as she looks around the halls and her lips are slightly parted as she takes everything in. i don’t even realize how long i’m staring, my eyes tracing over her features as we walk. despite how human she looks, she’s… beautiful. in an imperfect way. bright eyes, full lips, round cheeks, moles and freckles scattered across her nose. i watch as her lashes flutter every time she blinks and the way her tongue pokes out to wet her lips before she closes them. she’s enchanting. the thought snaps me out of my trance and i look forward to see us approaching the study.

as we come to the door of the study i can hear the low murmur of voices on the other side. i pause, not wanting to disturb whoever is on the other side and also not wanting anymore of my housemates to know she's here. not that they can't smell her or sense her... but it would be best that no one else saw her. i don’t get much time to ponder my options because within the next second the study door swings open to reveal two more of my housemates. how lovely.

reader

oh you’ve got to be kidding me… i probably have the facial expression of someone who’s just seen a comet but really you can’t blame me. not only am i astonished by the sight of the immaculate study with a large, dark mahogany desk and more shelves of books than i could ever afford. but there’s also two very beautiful men staring at me inquisitively from the open doorway.

“ah, i wasn’t aware we had company.” the shorter of the two says, clear apprehension in his tone as he looks me over. our eyes lock and mine roam over his face, his features somehow both soft and sharp. his blonde hair is styled and he’s dressed in a long, black overcoat that brushes the backs of his knees with red trim on the bottom with a vest over the white button up he wears. the buttons on his garments are all silver as is the jewelry that adorns his wrists and neck. my eyes trail over the necklaces he’s layered, all looking like they’d take me years to scrounge up enough money for one. grand, colored jewels and crosses hang off the chains of multiple while some just look like chain links. i glance back up at his face to see him already looking at me, a smirk curling his lips and a brow quirked. i quickly turn my attention to the man standing next to him to see him already looking at me, his gaze heavy and unreadable. where the other man’s features are softer, his are all sharp. piercing eyes, angled nose, plump lips, and a sharp jawline. he’s dressed in similar clothing except the inside of his coat is a deep purple and he has much more accessories. large rings, long necklaces, a plethora of bracelets. the top few bottons of his shirt are popped open and the muscular planes of his chest are on display. he’s much taller than the other two men and his long, muscular-looking legs show for it. his eyes never leave my face and for some reason, the look in his gaze makes me nervous causing me to look away quickly.

“i apologize, she got injured and i offered my assistance. it is much too dark for anyone to be out there alone. we won’t be very long.” seonghwa says, sounding only slightly apologetic. it seems like he has more to say, an undercurrent to his tone, but he just shares a long look with the shorter male. the two men standing together look to each other, another one of those unspoken looks passing between the two.

“that’s fine, we were… just about finished in here anyway.” the tallest one states and his voice, much deeper than the other two, pulls my gaze back to him. although he was speaking to seonghwa, his intense gaze stayed trained on me. there’s a question in his gaze but i’m not too sure what it’s about. i’m once again forced to look away but not before i got to drink in his features a little. it really shouldn’t surprise me that these two are just as gorgeous as seonghwa and yunho but still i am awestruck by their features. the two leave the room, both brushing past us quickly and not sparing a last glance as they continue down the long hall.

seonghwa very quickly walks into the study and pushes the door closed with his foot. did i hear the lock click or am i imagining things? seonghwa sets me down gently on a soft brown sofa, being conscious of my injured knee. once he sees that i’m mostly comfortable, he paces over to the large desk and rifles through the drawers before pulling out a first aid kit. i take the time to really take in the room, straining my eyes to read the spines of the books i could see from where i sit. i can recognize a plethora of books on foliage and herbs, some i know i have on my own shelves.

“those books are san’s. he takes an interest in anything to do with plants and herbs.” seonghwa’s voice from the desk startles me out of my daze as i look to him. he looks to be pretty busy shuffling through the first aid, i didn’t think he was paying me any mind. but there’s a gentle smile on his face that i know i am not the cause of. there’s a fondness in his tone and aura when he spoke of this san, that must be why he’s smiling.

“well, ’san’ and i have something in common then.” i respond, a smile that mirrors his playing on my lips.

“is that what you were in the forest for?” seonghwa inquires as he rounds the desk with what looks to be an ice pack, black gloves, and bandages in hand.

i nod. “yes, i was looking for something to finish off this ointment i'm making. i was supposed to have it by tomorrow to take into town but… i don't think that's going to happen.” i say the last statement with a sigh as i look down at my hands fiddling in my lap.

seonghwa hums as he comes to stand next to me on the sofa and i take note of how tall he is now that he’s not holding me. he kneels down to be directly in front of my knee, pulling the gloves over his nimble fingers. “well, i truly do not think it’d be safe for you to try and find your way back to your home now that night has fallen. even if one of us went with you, the forest is… different at night. but san may be able to help you find that plant in the morning, if that's something you'd appreciate. i don't assume this area of the forest is familiar to you?” as he speaks, he starts to move my skirts up and out of his way but my socks are still an issue.

i answer him as i lean down to help him remove my boots and socks. “no… no i’m not familiar with this area at all. and i actually have no idea how i found myself over here… i wasn't meant to go too far but then it started to get dark and i lost my way… a few times.” i keep my gaze off him as embarrassment floods my mind. once my clothing is out of the way, we're both able to actually see the injury and i hear seonghwa take a sharp inhale next to me. that doesn't look pretty at all. my knee is inflamed and swollen with a nasty looking bruise right underneath and small cuts all over. i reach out to gingerly press two fingers to it and immediately retract my hand with a hiss.

“how bad is your pain?” i look to seonghwa to see him studying the injury with furrowed brows. his gloved hands are cold as he shifts my leg back and forth, probably trying to gauge my mobility. but even that slight movement causes pain to shoot through my leg and i wince, reflexively trying to move out his gentle grasp. he murmurs an apology as he looks up at me through his lashes. i’m momentarily distracted by his gaze but quickly shake myself out of it.

“it's… pretty bad. there's a dull throb even when i don't move it.” i answer his earlier question and try my hardest to keep still as he grabs a wipe from his lap to start cleaning the cuts. seonghwa nods but otherwise stays quiet as he starts the process of fixing the injury. we sit in silence as he cleans, bandages, and wraps my knee. i find it very difficult to keep my eyes off his face as his hands move nimbly on my skin. his beauty is incomparable, strong brows furrowed with concentration, sharp eyes with pretty lips. as if he can feel my stare, his eyes flick up to mine. i look away quickly pretending to stare at the shelf behind his head. i really hope he can’t hear the way my heartbeat sped up with that nanosecond of eye contact because it feels as if the organ might jump out of my chest. a man i just met should not have this effect on me. get a hold of yourself!

seonghwa continues his work on my knee, seemingly completely unaware of my inner turmoil. between the calming silence and seonghwa’s gentle touches against my leg, i find myself relaxing further and further into my seat. just as my eyes start to feel heavy, a soft knock sounds on the wooden doors. both our heads look to the doors before i hear seonghwa sigh and mumble something along the lines of “excuse me” under his breath. he stands up and brushes the wrinkles out of his pants, making his way to the door. the beautiful, billowy sleeves of his white blouse sway with his arms as they swing at his sides and i watch him walk as if in a trance. i snap myself out of it and instead turn my gaze to inspect my knee. now that it’s cleaned and bandaged it doesn’t look as gruesome. the cool ice pack is relieving the pain and throbbing but the swelling won’t be down for a while. i’ll have to wait for seonghwa to make a decision on whether i’ll require more care or not but it doesn’t feel like anything more than a sprain. i test it out by twisting my leg and of course, feel pain shoot up my leg but surprisingly not as bad as before. my inspection is interrupted when seonghwa opens the door and a voice i recognize speaks up.

“i apologize for disturbing you but hongjoong needs you. right now.” i hear seonghwa make a disapproving sound and i turn to look at the two. yunho’s already looking at me and seonghwa seems to be hesitant to leave.

“i’m sure i’ll be fine, you can leave me if you need to attend to other things. can’t do much like this anyway.” i gesture to my leg and try to smile reassuringly. truthfully, the thought of being left alone in this beautiful strange home is making me nervous but i don’t need either of them to know that. both their brows furrow as they listen to me, neither of them really trusting my words. finally, seonghwa nods with a resigned sigh.

“i would not advise putting pressure on it but you should be alright to walk soon. allow the swelling some time to alleviate and do be careful.” he instructs and turns with a bow. yunho comes into the study and closes the door behind him. he takes long strides to the sofa opposite of mine and takes his seat. just like with seonghwa, i become entranced with the way he moves so gracefully despite his long limbs and stature.

“if you don’t mind me asking, how’d you do that?” yunho inquires curiously. his eyes are on my bandaged knee and he flicks them to my face for a second before looking back.

mildly embarrassed, i laugh before explaining how i’d gotten here. i choose to leave out the part where seonghwa absolutely terrified me and pretend that me falling was all my own doing. i brush my hair back out of my face as i finish my spiel and it dawns on me that i probably look an absolute mess. i suppress the urge to cringe into myself, suddenly self-conscious.

if yunho notices my sudden shift in attitude, he doesn’t mention it. instead he hums and nods as he looks back to me. “how does it feel? i know seonghwa’s pretty skilled with things like that. are you in any pain?” he asks and something about his voice puts my nerves at ease. i try not to think any longer about how the man sitting in front of me makes me feel and focus on answering his questions.

i shrug and shift my knee back and forth but notice the pain has subsided significantly. huh… that’s strange. “well… it doesn’t really seem to hurt at all anymore. doing this before hurt quite a bit but now i feel… fine.” i say, confusion lacing my words. i bend my knee experimentally and although it feels sore, the pain is barely noticeable. my brows furrow and i put my leg back down. yunho seems to understand my confusion and chuckles.

“seonghwa’s got a way with wounds. we’ve all experienced it, trust me. you’ll be back to normal quite fast.” he stands and walks over to the desk, putting away the supplies seonghwa left out by accident. as he busies himself with that, i feel my attention shift back to the row of herbal books. one book in particular standing out to me. the spine is dark green with big, gold letters in a beautiful font and on the base, a golden honey cup mushroom.

“would you like to read it?” i hear yunho’s voice from behind me and i jump, obviously too distracted to have noticed him move from the desk. he chuckles under his breath and the sound gives me butterflies. i shake away the feeling, internally reprimanding myself. “sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you. those are sannie’s books but i’m sure he wouldn’t mind you taking a look. do you want me to get it for you?” i turn around to see him leaning back against the shelves behind the sofa i’m on. this man is sinfully beautiful.

clearing my throat, i respond. “no no, i think i can get up.” i lean down and pull my socks back on before carefully swinging my legs over to plant my feet on the marbled floors. i hear rustling behind me and see yunho making his way around the sofa. i push my hands into the cushions underneath me as i try to stand. yunho extends an arm to me a little panickedly, not trusting my balance and injured knee. but i wave my hand and get to my feet on my own. once i’m standing, i make sure to shift my weight to the non-injured leg and take a step. my face scrunches as i feel the soreness in my knee but it’s nothing i haven’t handled before.

i limp my way over to the shelf and immediately my gaze zeros in on the pretty green book. i run my index finger over the lettering that reads “Mushroom Magick” before gently pulling it off the shelf. the cover has the same phrase with many different kinds of mushrooms decorating a circle around the words. the book feels familiar even though i know i don’t own this one and i flip to a random page. the page has a plethora of notes scrawled in rushed handwriting with highlights on phrases the owner of the book deemed important. i smile to myself reading some of the notes i assume the aforementioned ‘sannie’ left. i continue to flip through and read over the random notes they left before i finally come to a page without any annotations. this is where i assume they left off but i continue to skim through the pages until a presence behind me breaks my focus. i snap my head to see yunho standing a few paces behind me with his hands behind his back. he seems startled by the way i turned but recovers quickly with a polite smile.

“i’m sorry to disturb you… but i promised seonghwa i’d make sure you were resting and i noticed your shifting. you can bring the book with you to the sofa, you probably shouldn’t be standing on your leg for so long.” yunho explains as he gestures to said sofa. in all honesty, i hadn’t even noticed my shifting so his observation is impressive… but that also means he’d been watching me pretty carefully and the thought makes me a little nervous. i have half the mind to decline his offer but a part of me feels like he’s more persistent than that. with a resigned sigh and nod, i limp back over to the sofa, mushroom book in my hand with my index finger in between the page i’m on to make sure i don’t lose it. i take my seat and he follows suit sitting, with much more grace than i had, on the sofa opposite to me. i notice his lack of entertainment and wonder for a second what he’s going to do while we sit here but decide that’s none of my concern before opening the book back up to the page i was on.

the room is silent save for the sound of our a clock ticking and the pages of the book in my hands turning. i become quickly engrossed in what i’m reading, so much so i pay no mind to the man in the room with me. though i did look up one time when he got up to go to the desk. and maybe i stared at his figure for much longer than was necessary. it’s not like he noticed, by the time he’d turned back around my nose was in my book. a few more minutes and pages later, he gets back up again. this time he goes to examine a different shelf, one i can’t decipher the contents of from where i’m sat. i watch as he paces before he sighs softly to himself. he must feel my eyes because he swivels to turn to me. i snap my head down and try to refocus on the book but i can see from my periphery, him making his way over to the other sofa. i look up again as he sits and send him a small smile which he returns. i can see he wants to say something so i wait for him to speak before turning away.

“would you… like a tour of the mansion? i can see you’re enjoying your book so i apologize but… i feel i might lose it being stuck in this room.” his smile is shy as he asks. he tries to look relaxed but the bouncing of his leg is hard to miss. i consider his offer as i stare at the ground, not really able to look any of them in the eye for very long. what i’d seen of their home was absolutely atonisihing and it’s hard for me to even imagine what the rest may look like so out of sheer curiosity (and maybe a small desire to want to be around his calming presence) i nod my agreement.

his smile widens as he stands, holding his hands behind his back. i close the book, making a mental note of the page i was on in case i come back before placing it down on the cushion beside me. i get to my feet and i see yunho’s arm come from behind his back, probably to offer me support, but then he retracts it just as quickly when he sees me walking fine on my own. i start for the door, listening as yunho falls into step behind me. once we reach the door he side steps around me and reaches for the handle, pushing the door open and letting me step out into the hallway before him. the house is quiet as i look down the long hallways, yunho closing the door behind me before coming up on my right side. he smiles down at me as i look to him for directions and standing this close i can finally see just how tall he is. he gestures down the hallway to our right and turns to start walking, me having to play catch up to keep in time with his long strides.

“hongjoong, seonghwa, and i designed this entire place ourselves. though most of the detail was seonghwa hyungs’ ideas.” he explains as we keep a leisure pace, allowing me to take in the beautiful architecture and artwork on the walls. we pass by many doors, yunho telling me what lies behind each one as we pass. another smaller study that only a few of them use, a few bedrooms one of which is unoccupied, a library that belongs to someone named ‘yeosang’. the heels of our boots clack against the marbled tile floors and his coat rustles as it fans out behind his long legs in the same way my skirts rustle as i walk. but a beautiful painting stops me in my tracks and yunho slows to a stop alongside me. i reach my hand out to brush over the canvas with barely my fingertips, mouth agape in awe. in the painting a beautiful woman with wings much like the ones on the statue in the foyer sits in the middle of a meadow, in one hand a large pomegranate and the other a skull of an animal. her lips are stained red with the juices of the pomegranate but the way she’s depicted licking it off her teeth as the juice drips off her tongue makes it look like blood. she’s completely nude, skin glowing from the light of the pale moon in the dark, starry sky over her head. a crow sits perched near her feet, picking at the seeds she took out the pomegranate and a cat is curled by her side, sleeping peacefully. her long dark hair flows beautifully down to her thighs, nearly brushing over the sleeping kittens ears.

it’s completely unlike any painting i’ve seen, the artist putting such detail into the setting and atmosphere of the scene depicted. there’s something serene and intimate about the mood, like your’e peeking in on a moment between this woman and her companions. i turn to look at yunho to see him admiring the painting much like i was just doing. there’s a faint smile on his lips as his eyes trace over it before looking over to me. it’s then that the feeling one of the residents of this home must have painted this themselves presents itself in my thoughts.

“it took yeosang years to perfect this masterpiece but it’s one of his most prized pieces of work.” yunho confirms my previous suspicions as he brings up this ‘yeosang’ once again. looking back to the painting i can offer no other response but open-mouted awe. yunho chuckles at my expression. “yeosangie would be very flattered by your clear admiration. would you like to see more of his art or the rest of this wing?” he leaves the choice up to me as if it’s an easy decision. i look at him and then down the hall, lips parting to answer but the sound of a door opening pulls both of our attention. yunho turns to face down the hallway ahead of us as a figure steps out the opened door into the hallway with us. from the way he’s positioned, the other person can probably barely see me behind yunho’s giant figure. i try to step to the side to see down the hall but yunho’s arm closest to me moves up very subtly, a silent way of telling me to stay put.

“yunho? who were you talking to?” a clear, slightly husky voice asks. it sounds like whoever it was has just woken up.

“ah… no on-” yunho starts to deny my presence for reasons i don’t understand. a pit forms in my gut as anxiety creeps up my spine. why wouldn’t this other man be able to know i was here? i shift my weight to my non-injured leg, biting at my bottom lip nervously. the movement was a mistake because my skirts shift and ripple behind yunho’s legs. the other man’s eye immediately zone in on the movement and i freeze. i see yunho’s shoulders tense as the other man’s gaze slowly trails back up to look his housemate in the eye. then yunho releases a puff of air letting his shoulders drop and he steps to the side ever so slightly. “seonghwa brought her here. she got lost in the forest and hurt herself. i was just showing her around.” yunho explains, sounding defeated. the other man looks me over with his head tilted and cat-like eyes narrowed in suspicion. he’s not as tall as yunho but is broader than him, wide shoulders drawing my attention even from this distance. his jet black hair is ruffled from having just been asleep. he’s clad in a black t-shirt and sweatpants, the most casual dress of any the men i’ve seen thus far. our gazes lock and he seems to be trying to read me as he stares, eyes flitting around my face.

yunho breaks the tense silence by clearing his throat. “y/n, this is san. i think i mentioned him to you earlier in the study. san, this is y/n.” all san does in response is hum, looking away from me back to yunho.

“does hongjoong know you’re showing her around?” san inquires, brow raised. yunho looks away, scratching the back of neck nervously. ah, that must’ve been why he didn’t want san to see me. but who was this ‘hongjoong’? every time he’s been mentioned, they speak of him in this high regard. “yunho… do you even know how long seonghwa plans on keeping her here? should she really be seeing… everyone?” as he asks the last question, san’s gaze turns to me again. there isn’t as much hardness in his gaze, just apprehension. like he doesn’t trust me. i suppose that would make sense, i am a random stranger in his home. yunho opens his mouth to speak but i cut in before he can get whatever he was going to say out.

“i don’t plan on being here much longer, i assure you. i appreciate all of seonghwa’s kindness but i have things to attend to back at my own home. he was just offering me shelter for the night since it’s dark and i lost my way. in the morning, i’ll be going back to my cottage.” i answer san’s inquiries with a polite smile. both men turn to me as i speak and san’s eyebrow quirks up again.

“uh, weren’t you searching for something? san may be able to help you find it!” yunho says, head turning back to the other man who gives him an incredulous look.

san sighs as he looks back to me, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “what is it you were looking for?” he asks in a bored tone that offends me ever so slightly. what is his issue?

“you don’t have to help me, i’m perfectly capable of finding it on my own.” i answer with indignation, matching his stance. san’s bored expression breaks as he tries to fight off a smirk.

“if that were the case, would you have gotten yourself lost?” he asks with an irritating self-satified smirk on his lips. my arms drop from my chest as my brows furrow but san pays me no more mind, turning back to his bedroom door. “if you’d like my help, yunho or seonghwa can bring you to me tomorrow morning.” and with that he walks into his room and shuts the door behind himself. yunho and i are left in the silent hallway as irritation stirs in my gut.

“do you… still want to see the rest?” yunho asks softly as he looks at me.

i turn to him and smile. “yes, you were saying something about seeing more of the art?”

♰ note :: cliffhanger tehe >:) and we met quite a few members... pls pls leave feedback i want to hear you thoughts!! if you enjoyed consider rbing.

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revasserium · 8 months

Note

butterfly lovers opla zoro screaming crying throwing up

butterfly lovers

opla!zoro; 7,106 words; fluff, kind of childhood friends to lovers, slowburn af, nsfw, pron with TOO MUCH plot, opla!canon divergence, ships doctor!reader, fem!reader, riding, "good girl", emotional sex

summary: yours and zoro's story, from two different perspectives.

a/n: @halfvalid this is ur fault. take responsibility pls. also the smut is literally just one part of a larger story, but it does actually get explicit so. do with that info what u will u__u.

false start.

most good stories, scholars and storytellers would both agree, have a beginning, a middle, and an end. though, famously, not necessarily in that order. and this particular story — well, it has several places one might call the beginning. and one of them is here — in shimotsuki village, in a patch of rich green forest that always smelled of cedar and moss and earth.

it would be a lie to say that the story begins here, at a doujou where eight year old boys and nine year old girls swing wooden swords hundreds of thousands of times each day. where you’d seen zoro for the very first time.

the story could have started here, but alas, it did not.

because you see, you’d never been great, or even particularly good at swordsmanship. and zoro — zoro was one of the best. even from the beginning, his raw, unfettered talent was a force to be reckoned with. but the reckoning came in the form of the doujou sensei’s blue-haired daughter, and you were no more part of zoro’s story then than a drop of ink in a midnight ocean — lost to the tumultuous waves of childhood tedium, of sword practice and sparring, of warm up laps and cool down stretches.

but you’d known him then, watched him as he grew, as he got better and better and better. bigger, stronger, quicker, sharper. and beside him was kuina, steady as the shifting tides, relentless in her efficacy, tireless in her craft. he was good, but she was better.

until one day, when very suddenly, she wasn’t.

the story, as it is, does not start here, because you’d made the solemn walk to kuina’s funeral altar with the rest of the students at the doujou in complete silence, had knelt there in equal silence and watched as sensei had bestowed the wadou ichimonji upon zoro, watched as he had gripped the sword with both hands, his knuckles going white as the sword’s moon-washed sheath, and bowed his head in acceptance.

it does not start here because later, instead of following the same, silent procession of kids back to the doujou’s main compound, you’d slipped away, silent as a shadow, and sprinted through the wide, cedar forest to a secret, open patch of grass where the sun bled from a stretch of endless sky blue enough to sting, and tiny little white-petaled flowers had sprung from the still-damp earth, turning their faces towards the coming spring.

you’d run, screaming through the field till you’d run out of breath to scream with, and collapsed among the tiny white flowers, panting and staring up at the endless blue sky, feeling the helplessness pulse through your veins. because even though kuina hadn’t been your friend — you’d exchanged perhaps a handful of words in all the years you’d spent here — she’d been a constant presence in your life. and now, she was gone. and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

you laid there for longer than you can remember, and then, as the sun finally dipped beyond the far horizon and the darkness grew longer than the sea was wide, you got up and trudged towards the clearing’s edge. only to find a small creature huddled against the trunk of a thin sapling tree — it looked like nothing more than a bundle of white-spotted fur, and it took you a long moment to realize that it was a fawn, curled into a pile of gnarled roots, shivering, eye wet and wide and terrified.

you blinked, staring at it for a few seconds before you’d noticed the gash on it’s hind leg, jutting out at an uncomfortable angle. your heart had stuttered inside your chest, and you’d dropped down to your hands and knees, cooing softly as you slowly approached the creature, trying to look as unmenacing as possible.

“hey there… are you hurt?” you’d said, crawling towards it, trying very hard to make your movements as slow and smooth as possible.

the fawn shivered as it stares at you, apparently caught between sheer terror and curiosity. you tried to smile, before digging into your pockets and pulling out a handful of peanuts, offering them to the fawn on an open palm.

“c’mon, i’m not gonna hurt you… i just wanna take a look… at that leg of yours, can i do that?” you’d asked, inching in closer and closer until the fawn’s warm, wet nose dug into your palm, it’s smooth-edged teeth grazing your skin as it crunched through the peanuts. you took the chance to glance down at it’s injured leg — it wasn’t a deep wound, but judging by the angle, it was a bit dislocated and would need to be set back right if the fawn was ever going to walk again.

slowly, you reached out a free hand to gently stroke at the fawns haunches, feeling it’s muscles tense up beneath you, even as it continues to snuffle against your palm, eager for any remnants of the peanut shells. you ran your hand along it’s leg and quick as a flash, you pressed against the odd jutting of bone, even as it snapped back into place with a satisfying crack.

the fawn made a shrill, screeching noise, jerking to its feet, but a moment later, it seemed to realize that it’s leg was no longer hurting. you held up both your hands in what you hoped was a calming gesture before tugging out a few more peanuts holding it out as an offering.

the fawn blinks it’s dark, watery eyes at you a few times before limping forward to dig its nose once more into your palm. you allowed yourself a smile then, and a soft relieved laugh as the fawn limped forward a few more steps, testing the weight of it’s body on its newly repaired leg. it looked more confident now, seemingly realizing that the wound was somewhat fixed, and it gave you one last, lingering look before it bounded off back into the sunset forest, leaving you with nothing more than a handful of peanut shells and a tightness in your chest you can’t quite seem to put your finger on.

you’d snuck back into the doujou that evening, smelling of mud and moss and cedar, and you’d lain in your futon, staring up at the high slatted ceilings, streaked with moonlight, wondering where on earth you truly belonged.

the next morning, everyone woke to neatly a folded futon and a wooden training katana, the hilt carved with your name, laid across your pillow.

so you see, the story could have started here. but it didn’t. and perhaps we should be thankful for that.

the cost of ambition.

the story, as we know it, starts then at the baratie, on the morning after a meal was eaten and not properly paid for, after an ill-fated duel between a boy with a mouthful of ambitions and a man who’d forgotten what it felt like to be truly surprised. well, he was surprised that morning, watching the boy fall back with a gash the size of the world spurting blood across the docks.

“grow strong,” he’d said, “and come find me.”

and it starts, when a pirate in a straw hat comes crashing into the baratie’s kitchen, shouting about a dying friend.

“help! help! zoro… zoro needs a doctor!”

“whoa, whoa, slow down, chore boy — i can’t understand a word you’re saying,” zeff holds up a hand to stem luffy’s panicked rambling.

“my friend is dying…”

“the nearest doctor’s on the conomi islands —”

“wait, no —” sanji frowns, cutting zeff off, “lemme look at the reservations from last night —” he hurries off to the front desk and returns with a thick leather bound volume, flipping it open to scan through the seating chart for the night before.

“i knew it!” he says, pointing at a name written in deep, ocean blue ink, “there — her! i’ve heard of her — she’s the best ship’s doctor in the east blue, and if i’m not much mistaken, her ride’s not due to leave till this afternoon.”

“great! c’mon — we haven’t got time to lose!” luffy says as he rushes out of the kitchens, leaving sanji and zeff to exchange an exasperated look before following after.

they find you on the loading docks, your nose buried in a notebook, your hand flying across the page, ink smudging your unrolling sleeve.

“please! we need a doctor! my friend — zoro — he’s dying!”

you jerk up from your notes, the name ringing in your ears like an alarm bell, rocking through your body like the base boom of a signal flare. zoro? here?

you look around even as luffy makes his way to you, pressing in too close, a hand on top of his head to keep his hat from flying away, the other curling around your upper arm.

“w-wait — what’s going on? did you say someone was dying?”

“yes! my friend! he got into a fight with this warlord guy and now he’s bleeding from everywhere —”

“show me,” you say, lurching to your feet and shouldering your leather knapsack, pursing your lips as your vision threatens to tunnel ahead of you. zoro. it’s been such a long time since you’d heard that name. sure, you’d heard of his exploits in the east blue. how could you not have?

demon, bounty, pirate hunter. hunter, hunter, hunter —

you take a deep breath as luffy leads you onto the deck of the going merry and ducks below, motioning for you to follow.

when you step into the room, you don’t notice the orange-haired girl or the long-nosed boy, instead, your eyes are drawn to the body on the kitchen table as a magnet would a compass rose. his shirt torn into barely more than ribbons, a large red gash oozing blood, bisecting his torso like some unbridgeable canyon in miniature, his skin paler than you’d ever remembered it being, sweat beading his flickering brow —

oh, zoro…

you resist the urge to press your hand to your mouth. so instead, you swallow back your heart and try to assess the damage. massive blood loss, possible head trauma, and who knows what else?

“you said a warlord with a giant sword did this?” you ask, hurrying to the table and frowning down at the gaping wound.

“y-yeah — he — he had a big hat with a white feather on it —” luffy starts.

“mihawk. his name was dracule mihawk,” the orange-haired girl cuts in, her voice sharp and a bit too forced to be steady, “he told zoro to get stronger, and that… it wasn’t his time to die yet.”

you grimace, chewing on your bottom lip as you dump your supplies unceremoniously onto the countertop next to him, digging out the necessities.

“well, he wasn’t lying — the cut’s clean and judging by the size… he could’ve cut much deeper. but he didn’t,” you sigh, absently rolling up your sleeves as you pull out a hooked suture needle and a length of thread.

they watch you work in silence, first cleaning the wound, and then slowly, painstakingly pinching and stitching him back together. by the end of it, you’re nearly dizzy with exhaustion, and the sky outside has already turned a deep, bruising purple.

you sigh, wiping down your hands.

“can someone go and ask the waiter for a fish? any fish’ll do, but the fresher, the better. oh, and a bottle of scotch.”

“got it!” the boy with the long nose bolts up and is gone in a flash.

you slump down into a nearby chair and let your head loll back. a moment later, you feel someone pressing a glass into your hand and open your eyes to find the orange-haired girl holding a glass of water.

“here… you looked like you could use it.”

“thanks,” you say, taking a grateful gulp.

“i’m nami, by the way… thanks for —” she waves at the shape of zoro still on the kitchen table, “and that one over there is luffy. the guy that just left is usopp and —” her breath catches as her eyes fall back onto zoro’s form.

“i know who he is,” you say, your voice quiet as you look down at the glass clutched in your hands.

“you know zoro?” luffy’s voice is loud, but not unpleasantly so.

you glance up and feel the truth pulsing against the back of your throat like a heartbeat. then, you shake your head with a soft smile.

“i mean, he’s got quite the reputation.”

luffy lets out a laugh, “yeah! he sure does — he’s a great fighter! probably one of the best i’ve ever seen!”

you nod, staring at the sloshing liquid in the bottom of your glass.

a few moments later, usopp returns with sanji in tow, holding a bottle of scotch in one hand and a dead fish in the other.

“you’d better have a good reason for this,” he says, his expression grim, “zeff’s not gonna be happy when he finds these gone.”

you force a smile, “well, i can promise that at least one of those things’ll be put to good use — can you just skin the fish for me, please?”

sanji frowns, “and the scotch?”

you glance around before shrugging, “i don’t know about you guys but… i think we could all use a drink.”

the cliche of the morning after.

when zoro wakes up the first time, it’s to a world-muffling quiet. he coughs, uncertain of where he is, his head throbbing, his chest feeling too light and too heavy all at once.

“oh! you’re awake — here… have some water. you’ll need it.”

he hears the voice, both familiar and foreign, and then, he feels the cool press of a glass against his lips.

he gulps down the water greedily before pain rockets through him and he lets out a loud groan.

“i… i had a dream…” he says, his head spinning, the words slurring from him, and for a second, he wonders if he’d just been fed alcohol instead of water, but the pain seizes him again and he can’t stop talking.

“yeah? what did you dream about?” the familiar, foreign voice asks, soothing, as a cold palm presses against his forehead.

“shimotsuki village… i — i made a promise. i told her — i’d be the greatest… swordsman…”

his voice is fading, and the world is fading with it.

“yeah… you did, huh? and i’m sure you’ll fulfill it, one day…”

zoro sighs, sinking gratefully into the warm, welcoming arms of darkness once more.

“but not today,” you say, reaching out to wipe the sweat from zoro’s brow, your voice so soft that you’re sure no one else can hear, “today… you just need to keep on living. and that’s the greatest promise you could ever make to me.”

smooth sailing.

when he wakes up proper, you aren’t there to greet him. but he doesn’t miss the shape of you as they all pile onto the merry to go looking for nami. he doesn’t miss sanji’s too-wide grin or the unpleasant, burning itch that shoots through his healing wound as he watches the cook ask you about your favorite foods.

he keeps quiet for the most part, but you find him still, and you ask him how he’s doing with a ship’s doctor’s professionalism and efficiency.

“how’re you healing?”

“fine.”

“any tenderness?” you ask, your brows knitting as he tugs open his shirt and lets you peel the bandages away.

“not really,” he lies, because the the tenderness is not skin deep. he feels it in the labyrinthine galleys of his soul and he can’t quite figure out why you, of all people, might make him feel this way.

you run a surgical hand along the stretch of puckered skin and he sucks in a long breath, feeling his cheeks flood with inexplicable heat.

you smell of cedar and moss and freshly turned earth and for the life of him, he can’t remember why it makes his entire body go soft with memory. it reminds him of… something.

something, something, something.

“i hear you, y’know,” you say, and he jerks back to the present, with you absently rolling up your shirtsleeves before tugging at a fresh piece of gauze to wrap him back up.

“don’t know what you mean.” he looks away, willing himself to stay still as you daub a pungent cream against his chest before applying the layers of bandage. he lifts his arm to give you more room even as you shoot him a disbelieving look.

“sword practice, in the middle of the night. i told you that you need to rest — you’ll only prolong your own healing if you keep on pushing yourself like this. rest is it’s own brand of practice.”

zoro narrows his eyes. because he’d heard that from someone, somewhere before.

“your bodies need time to repair,” his sensei used to say as they all gathered after dinner at the doujou for evening meditation, “and a disciplined mind leads to a disciplined body. don’t forget that rest is it’s own brand of practice.”

zoro had never been good at it, but over the years, he’d managed to endure.

“there. all done.”

you lean back to admire your handiwork, unaware of zoro’s eyes as they scan over the shape of you, taking in the length of your hair, the bright of your eyes, the limber, spider-quick thinness of your hands and fingers.

“thanks,” he says, slipping off the kitchen table, pausing as he notices how still you’ve gone, your eyes wide as you blink at the planes of his chest, inches from your nose. a second later, you stumble back, clearing your throat, a sweet dawning pink dusts the high of your cheeks as he cocks his head to watch you, fascinated by your reaction.

he almost grins, letting his stomach flex as he takes his time in doing up the buttons of his shirt, before grabbing his swords and slipping from the room, leaving you to clean up your medical supplies, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

zoro wonders, just briefly, how it might feel to catch your lips between his own teeth instead.

ink, skin, and bullets.

it’s you who bandages nami’s self-inflicted wounds, you who spends four meticulous hours tattooing over the sawfish curl with a pinwheel spiral that curves into a tangerine’s plumpness. you, who soothes eucalyptus balm over nami’s arm before wrapping it up in a fresh roll of gauze, waving away her hiccupped thanks.

and it’s you, who gets a shotgun pressed into your palms by a stony-faced nojiko as you all prepare to march on arlong park.

“if i can’t go with you… then at least, i can give you the tools,” nojiko says as she wraps your fingers around the butt of the gun.

zoro narrows his eyes as he watches the way your fingers shake as you weigh the shotgun in your palms.

“i don’t like it,” he says.

“yeah, you shouldn’t come with us — we’ll need you to patch us up after,” sanji agrees with a wink, much to zoro’s displeasure.

but you shake your head, a steely light in your eyes as you clutch the shotgun to your chest, “no, i — i want to come. i mean — like luffy said… it’s our fight, after all.”

arlong park.

the flurry of battle is as it always has been. you use the shotgun more as a blunt instrument than as a projectile carrier, but it seems to work just as well. you’re small, and quick, and your knowledge of anatomy (yes, even fishman anatomy) allows you to maneuver the head of the shotgun into the softest, most venerable places on a fishman’s body as you all fight your way through arlong park.

but zoro is never far off, keeping close to you as he fends off the worst of the snarling fishmen, his sword flashing like fish scales in the midday sun.

there comes a moment when he slices an oncoming fishman right through the jugular that you let out a long breath, wincing as the fishman’s body hits the ground with a dull thud, and zoro sighs, turning towards you. but a second later, he freezes as you grab the hilt of his sword and shove it backwards.

he feels it resting against thick, bullet-proof flesh and he hears the loud panting of something next to his ear as he sees in the reflection of your eyes — a fishman standing behind him, frozen against the tip of his blade, the hilt clutched in your shaking, shivering hands.

“d-don’t — i’ll kill you —” you say, your voice a forceful, fractured thing.

zoro searches your eyes before clasping his hands over yours and slowly tugging the sword from your gasp.

“hey…” he says, deliberately drawing your gaze away from the fishman before he jerks his sword back and feels, with a satisfying shink, the weight of the blade sinking into unforgiving flesh. he feels your fingers trembling beneath his as he pulls the sword away, and the fishman behind him sinks to his knees before falling sideways with the dull thunk of a no longer animate body.

you try to tug away, but zoro holds you steady, running his thumb in soothing circles along the backs of your hands.

“s-sorry — i — i couldn’t —”

zoro shakes his head, pulling you up by your elbow.

“it’s okay — don’t apologize.” he whips his swords around and catches another fishman in the stomach, dropping him with a flicker of silver and a splash of red.

“you never have to apologize…” he says, as he reaches for your hands and curls them in the warmth of his own, callused palms.

finding neverland.

you kiss for the first time after a brutal battle. after the deck has been washed of blood and the railings have been hung with the remnants of the tattered sails.

repairs are much needed, but zoro had saved you yet again. you pull him to you in the darkness of the midnight deck, the crow’s nest empty because, well, he’s supposed to be up there, keeping watch. but you’d caught him instead, curling your fingers into the soft linen of his shirt, your mouth seeking out his in the relative dark.

“mnph —”

he grunts as his hands find purchase against your shoulders, pressing you back and back and back, till you’re pushed flush against the thick totem of the main mast, and your panting breaths are all he can taste against his desperate lips.

“s-sorry…” you let out a helpless laugh as he pushes forward, his teeth clacking against yours.

“quit that,” he says, his voice nothing more than a panting breath on the open sea air.

“hm?” you blink, lashes fluttering in the moonless night, your lips kiss-swollen and delectable even as zoro forces himself to pull back, studying you with an accusatory eye.

“you’re always saying sorry,” he says as he brushes a strand of hair from your cheek. above you, the main sail whoomps, catching an evening wind.

“i’m not… i don’t…” you look away, embarrassed to be caught. zoro reaches down to grab your chin, forcing your head back towards him.

“yeah, you do,” he says, his voice gentle, even as he cups your cheek.

“you don’t ever, ever, have to apologize for just... being you. got it?” and there’s a burning ember in the spark of his voice as he twists your face up towards him, his lips hot and hungry as he brands you with this promise, and you’re powerless to do else but accept it.

you find your fingers in the short hairs at the nape of his neck, his breath cascading over your lips even as you press in close, close, closer. a helpless whine twists its way up the back of your throat as zoro hoists you up, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs.

“z-zoro… please,” there’s something broken in the tenor of your voice that breaks him more completely than he has the words to describe, so he settles for holding you tighter over his hips and carrying you to his room. it takes a bit of finagling to get you comfortably situated in his hanging bed, but once he does, he can’t help the soft sigh that escapes him as he looks over the length of your body.

from your pink-flushed cheeks to the loose, crumpled material of your button up shirt, all the way down to the hem of your skirt as it brushes up along the skin of your thighs. he leans own to press an indulgent kiss into the dip of your collarbone.

“'please' though… i like a little bit more,” he says, reaching down to pop the top button of your shirt, to revel in the way you hiccup as he teases a line down your chest, his lips following his fingers as he undoes your buttons one by one.

“i — ah —” your fingers curl into the soft moss of his hair and he groans, long and lush into the creamy expanse of skin above the waist of your miniskirt.

“again…” zoro says, whispering the word against you, tugging on the elastic of your skirt, pulling them down the length of your legs.

“z-zoro, please!”

your head tips back as you feel his tongue flick over the hot button of your clit, his fingers digging into your hips, the pads of his forefingers tracing gentle circles around your hip bones as he holds you to his mouth and moans.

there’s a fumbling of fingers and a clashing of teeth as he wrenches himself up from between your legs to mouth at your lips. you taste yourself on his tongue and shiver at the indecency. still, the coals of desire burn in the pit of your stomach as his fingers press into your spit-slicked folds and you feel your whole body arch up in response.

he has always been quiet, but none more so than when he’s working three digits into your fluttering core, his eyes dark and fixed as they watch his own fingers pull out of you and push back in, slick and shiny with the evidence of your arousal.

“fuck…” he whispers the word like a prayer, slipping passed his lips like some holy thing. you can hear the near reverence in his voice as he slowly removes his hand and presses them to his lips for a taste. the lewdness of it makes the hot coil in the pit of your stomach twist all the tighter. and this time, when he drags himself up the length of your body to kiss you, you whine against his mouth, tasting your own tang on the heat of his tongue.

“ngh — fuck —!” you echo, as he flips onto his back and tugs you over his hips in one, fluid moment, his palms helping you grind your sodden folds over the length of his cock, the friction all-consuming and dizzying. a thin string of arousal connecting the tip of his cock to the seam of your cunt and zoro is helpless to do much else but moan thickly at the sight.

“shit.”

you whimper softly as he teases at your entrance, your palms splayed against his chest for support, your thighs shaking on either side of his hips as he eases you down inch by slow, excruciating inch, ontohis thick, throbbing cock. you toss your head back as he pushes into you, the fit of him fiery-tight and stretching you in ways you’d never thought was possible.

you feel him pulsing against your walls, and you wish briefly that you could’ve tasted him as he’d tasted you, before he sheathed himself inside you. how would he taste, you wondered, and you feel your mouth water at the thought of his heavy, salty weight on your tongue.

“n-ngh!” your voice cracks as he rocks his hips experimentally against yours, the drag of him inside you driving you to near incoherence.

“good girl,” he whispers, the words falling from him like second nature. you keen beneath his praise, bracing yourself as he plants his feet on the bed and jack hammers up into you, his stomach tensing in deep breaths of tight, sinewy muscle, his arms flexing as he helps you rock down above him.

“pretty… fucking… girl…” he intersperses his heavy groans of pleasure with soft exclamations, fucking you now to the light, rhythmic rocking of the ship, even though there’s nothing light about the way his cock bullies it’s way into your cunt again and again, forcing you to clamp down around him on each and every thrust.

there’s nothing gentle about the way he digs his nails into the flushed skin of your hips, how he leans up to latch his greedy mouth onto one of your pert nipples, moaning as he savors in the way you arch against him, pushing your chest more fully into his mouth.

“r-right — right there —”

“yeah?” he asks, half-smirking as he looks up at you, his warm gaze betraying the hard, teasing edge behind his voice, “where do you want me?”

you keen, whining as you drag your hands down your own body to press against your stomach, grabbing his hand to push it against you as well, his palm hot and flat as it lays along your tummy.

“r-right here —”

“fuck — that’s right —” he jerks up into you, burying his face in your chest with a clipped moan as he quickens his pace, his one hand pressing against your stomach as you feel him pushing up farther into you than you’d ever imagined possible.

the pleasure is intense, an other-worldly feeling as he finally pushes you over the edge, his hips stuttering as he feels you clench around him, your arms winding around his torso, to act as both tether and tide as he holds you to him, grounding you to this feeling while simultaneously casting you against the rough edges of this most selfless and selfish pleasure.

“h-holy… fuck me…” you breathe out, clutching at zoro’s back, digging ruddy red grooves into his shoulder blades as he rolls over to fucks down into you, relentless in his chase of his own climax, groaning deep and throaty as he finally spills into you.

you hiss as you feel the heat of him pooling inside. and it’s not till a few minutes later that he picks his head up from where his face had been buried in your neck to shoot you a wide, lopsided grin.

“yeah, pretty sure that’s what i just did,” he says, rolling onto his side and letting out a deep, soul-steadying breath.

you roll your eyes before turning to look at him, only to find him watching you with a gentle, anchoring softness. and like this, it’s hard to see him as the battle-hardened warrior. like this, it’s hard to imagine that he’d ever made such a promise as to become the greatest swordsman in the whole, entire world.

like this, he just looks like a lovestruck boy, forced to grow up much too soon, searching for any remnants of pleasure he might have left to hold on to.

an irony of hands.

it’s never easy, the night after enemy raids, the deck pooling with bodies and blood, the sea the color of a scabbing wound, flotsam and jetsam like bloated body parts floating on the dark, inky waves.

you’re helping usopp push some of the dead bodies overboard, but then you find one man with three deep gashes on his torso and blood bubbling on his lips.

“… gonna… gonna report — never… escape…”

you nearly yell as you see the tiny den den mushi in his hands, his fingers quivering as he tries to dial the emergency line. you smack it from his hand and press your tiny, surgeon’s scalpel to his throat. it’s sweet, polished silver gleams wicked beneath the moonless night.

“don’t you fucking dare,” you say, even though your voice shakes, and there are perhaps a million other ways of taking care of him more easily. but you know that if you throw him overboard now, he’d bob, half-drowning and helpless, for a few hours, or maybe even days before he’d finally succumb to the terrible, patient drag of the ocean (and most likely, dehydration).

“no,” a voice says, steady and firm, as a long, rough-fingered hands enter your vision and carefully tug your hands way from the man’s throat.

you look up to find zoro, his hand still clutched around yours, an unspoken sweetness flickering behind his eyes.

“i — if we toss him over — he'll just —” you swallow thickly, tearing your gaze away from zoro’s face as his expression shifts into something of the unreadable and soft. you hate to let him see you like this, so hesitant, so incompetent.

“let me do it,” zoro says, giving your hands a light shove before, with one swift arc of his blade, he severs the man’s carotid, leaving him slumped and bleeding on the blood-stained deck.

“oh… oh god…” you press your shaking fingers to your lips, the silver scalpel falling with a loud clatter.

“c’mere,” zoro says, tugging you up and leading you down to the hallway below decks. he slows as the pair of you enter the darkest part of the hallway, and he turns to hold you at arms length, his fingers tight on your arms as you feel his eyes scanning you over, and over, and over.

“you’re not hurt?” he asks, voice quiet and clipped.

“no,” you shake your head.

“not even a little?”

you shake your head again, pursing your lips this time to keep the sob from pouring through.

still, he sees it, and he pulls you to him, cradling your head in his large, warm palm, the other arm wrapping around your middle.

“stupid girl,” he murmurs, light, into your cheek even as you let out a bitten off sob against his chest.

you hiccup, curling your fingers into the material of his shirt, "i — i couldn’t do it,” you say, squeezing your eyes as he holds you to him and lets you cry.

“i — i couldn’t kill him.”

zoro sighs, pulling back to smooth a hand over your hair, bringing it down to cup your now tear-stained cheek.

“yeah, i know. but that’s not what your hands are made for,” he says, letting his own hands trail down and down and down, till he’s got both of your palms cupped in his like a wishbone.

“don’t you get it?” he asks, staring down at your palms, upturned against his, “these hands were never made for taking lives…” he looks up, his eyes too bright in this borrowed darkness. and then, he smiles.

“they were made for saving lives instead.”

confessions, part i.

you stare at him for a full ten seconds before letting your body fall laxed into a soft, bubbling fit of champagne-colored laughter.

“i love you,” you say, the words tumbling from you, more truth than any story or poem or legend or myth either of you have ever heard.

“i love you, zoro,” you say again, tasting the words on your tongue like fireworks, like pop-rock candies, like the first, stinging breath of autumn after the hazy veil of summer has finally lifted. and slowly, in the clarity and truth of your declaration, you think you can see his lips as they lift up in an open-heart smile, as he too tastes the words you’ve just so recently mustered the courage to say.

confessions, part ii.

zoro stares back, and or a long moment, he doesn’t say anything. then, for too long. and you think you’d made a mistake, telling him how you feel. but then, he smiles — a true smile, a smile that lights up his face and erases all the grooves and lines that should’ve been worn there by the weathers and weights of hardship.

and still, listening to your words, he smiles — a smile that makes him nothing short of incandescent.

he nods, squeezing your hands in his.

“i love you too.”

false start (redux).

every story as a beginning, a middle, and an end. though not necessarily in that order. and, looking back, roronoa zoro knows that if he had to pick, his story probably begins here — at the ripe age of eight, in a doujou nestled next to a forest that always smelled of cedar and moss and freshly turned earth.

it probably starts with an endless parade of sword practice and sparring, of warm up laps and cool down stretches.

its true — it could be said that his story starts with kuina, the doujou sensei’s blue-haired daughter, who was better at swordcraft than zoro thought he ever might be. and to some, this is a good enough kind of beginning to latch on to.

but no, zoro knows, because he knows himself now, and he knows that stories, just like swordsmanship, is an art that requires a certain amount of tempering. a certain degree of trimming and tailoring. a certain kind of articulation.

so he’s certain that it starts here, when he’d seen you for the very first time. and it’s true, you’d seemed like nothing special then, just another quiet little girl who’d been forced into the doujou by some faceless set of rigid, expectant parents, and you’d worked just as hard as you could have, given your natural inclination for anything but sword play.

he’d known that you’d never be great shakes at swordsmanship, but still, he’d found himself drawn by and to you, as a magnet would a compass rose, as one might find their destiny, or their soulmate. he had found his eyes tracking you whenever you weren’t looking, found himself watching as you’d patter around after sparring practice to ask everyone how they were feeling, to dig your tiny fingers (strong and dexterous as they already were) into a knot here, an aching muscle there, a pinched nerve that might’ve been really bad if not found here, and left to fester in that vast, horrible elsewhere.

but he’d been a shy, quiet, kind of boy, absorbed by his sport. and kuina’s skill was more than enough for one growing, teenage boy to contend with without worrying about the strange attraction he had towards perhaps the least “swordsy” person in the entire class. and so, he’d never plucked up the courage to talk to you, never questioned when you’d kept away from his side of the classroom after sparring practice, when all the other girls would flutter around him like a flock of unwelcome pigeons, asking if he wanted to be their stretching partner.

then, the morning came when shimotsuki-sensei had informed him in not so many words that kuina was gone. and the funeral had slipped by in a hazy blur of bodies and incense, and the next thing he knew, he was holding the wadou ichimonji, and sensei was saying something about keeping kuina’s dream alive.

he’d seen you flit from the funeral march of black-clad children, shadow-dark and raven-quick, right off into the thicket of trees. and he’d followed you, because he couldn’t think of a place he’d like to be less than back in that suffocating practice room with all his fellow classmates, half of them casting him curious looks, the other half avoiding his gaze like the literal plague.

he’d followed you to the clearing, and watched as you’d sprinted, screaming around the field of tiny, white-petaled flowers until you slumped down, panting with your face upturned to a sea-breeze sky. he caught himself before he could burst out laughing (or crying, he wasn’t quite sure which he wanted to do more at that moment), and he’d forced himself to sit still behind the trunk of a large tree and watch as you pushed yourself up. the light of the dying sun washed your figure in a great, dream-like ream of orange and gold.

then, just as it seemed like you were going to head back, he spotted you spot the injured fawn, curled into the gnarled roots of a sapling cypress tree. and he’d watched still as you slowly approached the creature with a handful of peanuts before distracting it and crack — he’d heard it clear across the clearing — the sound of a bone being set back into place.

the fawn had screeched and bolted to it’s feet.

but you were just as fearless as you always were, holding out your palm with more peanuts, and zoro had watched, with a mounting fascination coiling in the base of his stomach, as the fawn dug its nose into the palm of your hand.

he’d seen the brilliance behind your eyes, heard the bell-toll sound of your soft, everlasting laughter.

and he vowed, then and there, to become the greatest swordsman he could be, the greatest swordsman in the world, if only to protect you from those who might hurt you. from those who might threaten to take away the light — the life — that thrummed, ever present, in the palms of your very own hands.

a/n: i know, i know, there was an authors note before. but i feel like i can explain this better now that you've read the fic -- to me, the story of "butterfly lovers" is and always has been as story of someone pretending to be someone they're not, right? so in that sense, you/reader was just trying to fit into a mold that wasn't quite made for her before discovering her true calling as a doctor. and the fluff and romance was that, unbeknownst to her, zoro's known that this entire fucking time. u__u anyways. i hope you enjoyed. bless up and simp zoro, fam.

opla!zoro requests are open!

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penvisions · 2 months

Text

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 3}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: With the overnight patrol behind you, it's now time for your annual leave from the roster altogether. But Joel doesn't know that and you're hesitant to tell him, feeling like it would be the best for you two to get some distance. But as with all things involving the man, it was hard to keep the distance.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, slight angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, two (2} instances of joel miller gently touching reader, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, talk of pregnancy, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, sexual content, masturbation (f and m), yearning, protective joel, tommy is a scheming lil brother and we love him for it, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: i'm not really back in wake of some bad comments and confrontational haters, but love y'all ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

A knock on your door the next morning caught you bundled up and out in the backyard, the sound echoing throughout your empty house. It was small: a simple one with a larger than average kitchen, a living room, one bathroom across the hall from the bedroom, and a laundry / mudroom with a deep utility sink and a few cabinets of storage. It’s where you kept the tools for the garden, where you washed and prepped everything you managed to grow before moving it into the kitchen space. But you were on the modest back porch, a cup of steaming coffee cooling in the early morning air as you looked out at the trees that took up a good chunk of the large area.

Dragging your eyes from the one that looked like it was about at the end of its life, a large crack running down through the trunk, you heeded the knock at the early hour. Knowing it could only be one of four people.

“Was worried I woke you for a moment, you sleep okay?” Maria greeted you as she waddled past you and moved into the kitchen. She spied the other cups worth of contents in the coffee maker and sighed in longing. The scent of it heavy in the air, mixed with cinnamon you were apt to put in with the grounds before brewing. But her sigh turned into a delighted hum as she shifted her attention to the cooling pan atop the stove and moved closer to inspect the baked goods settled on it.

“Probably not much better than you, momma. How you feelin’?” You slid a plate to her as she began to pick pieces off from one of the flaky breakfast hand pies you had made. She placed the one she had begun eating along with another before following you to the large table that ran through the middle of the room. Setting it down and pulling out the chair for her, you helped her to lower into it. With a caressing touch to her swollen belly, permission given from her months ago, you began to set up a kettle for some tea.

“Big.” She stuffed a large bite into her mouth, eyes fluttering at the taste of the filling. Crumbs of the flaky crust sticking to the front of her shirt, jacket having been shrugged off. “Olive, these are fantastic. Is there anything in here I shouldn’t be eating?”

“I wouldn’t have let ya get your hands on it if that were the case. Just bacon and onion jam, eggs, a little bit of milk, and a whole bunch of thyme. Nothing too bad.”

“Nothing too bad, my ass. You should totally make these for the mess hall on your next shift.”

Another knock on the front door stole the words from your mouth and you looked to the woman who all of a sudden had great interest in picking the crumbs from where they had fallen.

“Maria, what is this?”

“Can’t I call on a fellow morning bird without ulterior motives?”

“You could, but you didn’t this time around. I don’t get many visitors so I wonder who you- Oh! Good mor-morning, Joel.” Surprise overtook you as you were suddenly face to face with the man over the threshold of your front door. He was bundled up as well, though his hair was wet, slicked back and shining in the early morning sun peeking over the mountains.

“I just figured we could all chat about the Teton route.” Maria’s voice carried from the kitchen. But it didn’t break the stare you could feel as Joel’s eyes took in the apron you had thrown on earlier.

“Mornin’.” He rumbled, a hand reaching out from within his jacket pocket to swipe at your cheek. His touch burned, but you were frozen in place at such a forward action so early in the day. Lips parting as you tried to pull in a breath but you were sure all you managed to do was huff out what air was already in your lungs. “You got a lil flour or somethin’.”

“O-oh, um, thank you.” His hand lingered, the back of his knuckle dragged down your cheek and then the finger curled around the neckline, tugging slightly. Nerves sparkling as you felt the warmth from his hand so close to your neck, you could only swallow as his eyes finally met yours with a playful grin displaying that damned, endearing dimple normally hidden in his scruff.

“Never seen you so homey before, it’s a good look on you.” His voice was tipped low, just for you and you felt your stomach lurch. When you didn’t say anything, just continued to stand there caught like a fly in his trap, he chuckled and asked if you were going to let him inside. It was then you realized he had inched closer, crowding you in the doorway, with his hand still around the strap of fabric over your neck.

“Oh! Of cour-course, I’m so sorry. It must be the early hour taking my manners.” But you knew he wouldn’t believe that for a second, he knew you were a morning person. Something you had revealed to him on patrol. Just like he had revealed to you that he took any opportunity to sleep in, apt to hit snooze an embarrassing about of times if the sound even reached him. You had both laughed at the polarizing tendencies, ribbing each other about it throughout the day. It had been a good one, free of the underlying…tension of whatever had shifted when you had pressed your lips to his injuries. Something you would take back if it meant cutting the undercurrent of whatever had befallen your interactions.

“There’s, um, breakfast hand pies and one last serving of coffee,” You spoke as you turned your back on him and went to retrieve your own mug from the porch.

After the shuffle of greetings, of ushering Joel to take a seat at the table. You plated up two of the hand pies and poured the last of the coffee for him, setting it down in front of him with a small smile before fetching the whistling kettle and preparing a cup of tea for Maria who was already a bite into her second pastry.

“Now, the horse you two lost.”

Joel made a surprised sound, mouth biting into one of the pastries on his plate.

“It was my fault.” You rushed out before Joel could even respond around his mouthful. His eyes flicked to you across the table where you had finally taken a seat, watching as you willingly took the blame for the unfortunate event. “I wasn’t quick enough taking down the Infected that were coming at us. Two of them had set their sights on her, with all the noise she was making while another went after Joel on the ground.”

“And there was no use of anything other than the shotgun?”

“That’s correct.”

“Joel, do you agree with her synopsis?”

“Yes. She acted fast, but there was no way Kiana was gonna make it back, she had been freaking out the second they came outta the tree line, most likely would’ve run off.”

“She always was easy to spook, that’s why she was designated as your horse, calmed her down and got her to focus.” It made sense, Joel was a very level headed person, capable of gently focusing someone should their minds or attention wander.

“I wish every incident discussion was this lovely. No arguing, good food, people who don’t want to go around in circles. You two are truly one of the best pairs we have on the roster.” Maria stirred in a bit more honey into her tea, taking a sip as she looked you both over.

A nervous laugh bubbled up from you as you dug into your own pastry, unaware of them sharing a look.

“This is amazing,” Joel offered, reaching for the kitchen towel folded atop the table to clean his hands off. “You should make these your next shift at the mess hall.”

“I just told her that, imagine the buzz they would cause.”

“They’re not all that special.” You muttered, shoulders rising as you felt rather put on the spot.

“This filling, these onions? It had to have taken a lot of concentration to reduce them down so soft but not mushy. Take the credit where it’s due.” Joel hummed his agreement as he reached for his mug.

“You’re off patrol this week and next, to do your annual thing.” Tommy announced as he sat beside you, his tray thudding against the top of the table, laden down with food from this mornings offerings.

“I can still patrol and get what I have to done.” You didn’t look up from the notebook you were writing in, trying to map out the way you were going to turn the harvest of the olive trees in your backyard into. If you were being honest, patrol twice a week wasn’t so bad with the added allure of Joel Miller. But it would be hard to juggle it paired with the time of year. Every autumn you took out your dirtiest, most ratty pair of overalls and got to work picking the fruit from the trees. Taking your time to sort them, wash them, turn them into oil and pickle some of the others. It was just you, hands aching at the end of the day from spending it all at your kitchen table with various tools. But you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

The kitchen was your happy place. Even after the end of the world. Or maybe in spite of it.

But this year, you didn’t want to miss out on patrol, normally taking the two weeks off to sort everything out and give all your attention to the gift of fruiting trees. Even if…you felt like it would be good for you to get some space from the man you felt in every other thought. The past two weeks had yielded quiet patrols, just the passing of a thermos between hands. You were sure you had overstepped a line by pressing your lips to his face, lost in the moment of adrenaline and want after those Infected had tried to turn you both.

His eyes were heavy on you when he thought you weren’t looking, but searching for what you didn’t have the faintest clue. Perhaps he was thinking of a way to bring it up and let you down gently. Tell you that he hadn’t appreciated your affections that way. Whatever went on behind that handsome, rugged face you hadn’t a clue.

“We both know that’s a mighty lie,” He stuffed an overfull spoon of grits into his mouth, humming around it as he pointed the utensil at you. “Didn’t you say this would be the last year for one of them?”

Sighing, you set the pencil you had been writing with down. Trading it for the cup of coffee in front of you.

“Unfortunately, the trunk spilt when we had those winds come through in February. I’m surprised it bloomed any fruit to be honest.”

“It’s a fighter, like it’s caretaker.”

“Oh hush, tryna flatter me.”

“Don’t you know it.” He winked, cheeky smile growing wider underneath his mustache as his eyes caught sight of something over your shoulder. You were about to turn to see what had him so delighted when a pair of hands placed a tray right next to you. The burly form of Joel huffed as he settled into the seat beside you.

“Mornin’.” He greeted, placing plate of toast in front of you, his hand momentarily brushing against yours before he dug into his own food. You felt heat bloom up your neck and across your cheeks as Tommy feigned a cough to cover up a snicker. Joel leveled an unimpressed stare at the man, an eyebrow cocked and a warning in his eyes. You pretended not to see it, busy slathering a piece of the gifted toast with some butter left out on the tables for the breakfast service.

“Good mornin’, brother.” Tommy lilted, face lit up with something you were hesitant of. Scheming, the man was scheming, up to absolutely no good. And you had a hunch it involved not only you but the man beside you. Taking a bite of the toast, you noticed the way his face twitched before he started whatever he was up to. “How are you today?”

“Fuck off, Tommy.” The older man didn’t even look up from his plate, knowing from years of experience that his brother was aiming a mischievous look his way. “I gotta list a mile long of stuff to do this week and next, don’t have time for whatever else you’ve taken on.”

“That’s a shame,” He took another heaping bite, chewing it thoughtfully as he looked between you both, taking in the way neither of you were willing to look at the other. “Sorry, Olive. Looks like you’ve gotta fell that tree on your own.”

“That’s okay. I’m a big girl, did it the year before last and I’ll do it again this time around.” You downed the last two gulps of your coffee. Gathering up your notebook, you shoved out of your chair and stood, preparing to walk away. But he scrambled, quick on his feet and determined. Joel glanced at you, a parting nod the only indication from him.

“Well, seeing as you’ll be off patrol the next two weeks, that should give you enough time to take care of it.”

“Tommy!” You whirled around on your heel, eyes wide. You hadn’t wanted Joel find out this way, from his trouble making little brother with you right beside him.

“What’s he talkin’ about?” Joel turned with a loaded fork halfway to his mouth. Forgotten in wake of the sudden news. He looked taken off guard, shock coloring his features as he looked to you for answers.

“Didn’t she tell you, brother?” Tommy set his own fork down, tray nearly empty now. “Olive always takes this time of year off to tend to the trees. Harvest and make that lovely oil you see everywhere around town.”

“That’s yours?” His eyes danced around the mess hall, taking in the incriminating glass jars atop every other table. The light green contents revealing the literal fruits of your labor. The hours you would spend hunched over your own kitchen table working away on ensuring everything was perfect. He looked down to the warm plate of food in front of him, the roasted potato hash and scrambled eggs. “You’re the reason the town has cooking oil?”

“Yes, it is.” Feeling pleasure flutter at his impressed tone, you knew your voice had taken on a breathy quality. If Tommy’s growing grin was any indication, his teeth sparkling as he watched the two of you across from him. Joel had turned completely in his chair to face you, while you had pivoted your body in his direction. Both of you undoubtedly drawn to each other even in the most casual of ways.

“What are you gonna do with the wood? Didn’t you burn it and mix the ashes into the soil last time?”

“Yes, I did.” You gripped the notebook tight, fingers aching from the pressure. “It helped to reduce the acidity of the soil and ward off slugs from targeting the blooms once spring came around.”

“Well, uh, I can come by and lend a hand. If you needed it, but I don’t want to intrude if you’ve got it all under control.” Joel ran a wide palm over the back of his head, fingers brushing through the curls as he offered his help in a round about way. Something you suspected Tommy had anticipated. It took you a second to process his words, remembering the feel of his hair tangled around your own fingers. It had been soft despite a days’ worth of travel and an overnight stint atop a dusty mattress. You wondered how he cared for it, what it looked like slicked back fresh from the shower, water dripping from the ends of it and-

“Oh, that’s okay!” You shuffled on your feet, shaking the rather intrusive thoughts and not wanting to burden the man with another task. “You just said you’ve got a lot to do, don’t want to add to it.”

“I could shuffle a few things around, clear up an afternoon to come help ya out.” He insisted, something smoldering in his dark eyes. His tongue ran over his bottom lip as he regarded you carefully, as if he had noticed the lingering gaze on his movement. He shifted to pull that damned little note pad of his own from his back pocket and flipped it open. Looking over the long list penciled on the page.

“No, no, it’s okay, really. You don’t have to do that, Joel.” You waved your own notebook at him, hoping he realized you kind of wanted the space from him. Kind of needed it, actually. To get the image of his softened face out of your head and the ability to look at him without feeling a jolt of desire strike through your body. Space would probably be good, would allow you to reign everything in and be better equipped to ride alongside him once again. The lines had begun to blur and they needed to be defined.

“It’s no problem, I can-“

“It’s really okay, I can handle it. But uh- th-thanks for the offer.” You scurried away before he could add your name to the list among his other tasks. “More important stuff to tend to than a me-measly tree.”

“I really don’t’-“

“I’ve got it.” You called over your shoulder, leaving the two men to their breakfast.

The second you were walking through the door, Joel rounded on the younger man. The shit-eating smirk was securely in place among his brother’s features across the table. Irking Joel further.

“Shut up.”

“Oh brother, you got it bad.”

“Shut up, Tommy.”

“C’mon, she could really use the help. It’s just her.”

“No one offers to pitch in? The other women with personal gardens all help each other out.”

“It’s the age gap. Olive’s about a decade or so younger than them.”

Joel contemplated his brother’s words, thinking back on the thinly veiled disdain Marsha had voiced to him the last time he had been tending to the woman’s home. He knew you were younger, but he hadn’t anticipated it causing any problems with the rest of the settlements occupants just how it wasn’t the cause of any between you and him. At least, not any real problems. Age was just a number nowadays, if you were alive, you were alive. If you weren’t well, you weren’t. Friendships and connections blooming between people regardless of age and backgrounds in abundance as people clung to what they could in order to survive.

“Does anybody ever…talk about her to you?”

Shifting from annoying little brother to something more serious, Tommy looked over his brother as he chewed the bite he had just taken.

“What do you mean?”

“Marsha seemed to insinuate that Olive is common topic of discussion.”

“Marsha doesn’t like Olive. Never has.” Tommy scowled, stabbing at a chunk of potato rather harshly.

“Does it have to do with the patrol you won’t tell me about?”

“…yeah.” Tommy was suddenly very interested in the rest of his food, ignoring the look he could feel Joel pinning him with from across the table.

“Tommy.”

“Her old patrol partner was someone she showed up with, when we first brought her here. He and Marsha’s daughter got on quickly, were engaged within a year and planning on havin’ a kid or two.”

Joel was silent as he picked at his food. Marsha’s daughter, Millie, didn’t have any kids or a husband that he knew of. The two women sharing a home close to his.

“They blame her for what happened.”

“What did happen?”

“Joel, you’ve gotta ask your girl that. It’s not my place to give details.”

“She’s not my girl.”

“But you want her to be, c’mon, I can see it plain as day.”

“We are not talking about this.”

“I think she likes you back. But it’s hard to tell since she doesn’t get a lot of interaction around town aside from when she’s trading or cookin’.”

“She don’t like me like that. We’re just…friendly.”

It wasn’t friendly the way Joel took advantage of any reason to touch you. From soothing minor injuries, to brushing his fingers over yours as he passed you something, to brushing things you tended to smear along your cheek. Just to hear the hitch of your breath and to witness the way your eyes widened. It wasn’t friendly the way you were the last thing he thought of at night and the first thing he thought of when he woke up. It wasn’t friendly the way his gaze lingered on you while out on patrol or when he caught sight of you around town.

It wasn’t friendly the way he spent hours in his workspace sketching out designs and carving into wood in the hopes that you would enjoy what he was creating.

It wasn’t friendly the way he didn’t engage with you for worry of making you nervous, like he noticed he had begun to do. Stuttering every other word around him and others in a habit he couldn’t figure out was his fault or something you were just prone to do. It wasn’t friendly how he wanted to see if it was just him that caused it, wanted to see how quickly words would fail you completely if he were to focus his attention on you in a more than friendly way…

But his brother didn’t know anything about that.

Never one to miss out on the chance for a slow morning, you allowed yourself to wake up naturally.

The sun was just beginning its descent from the highest point in the sky, peeking in through the drawn blinds of your bedroom.

Your body was warm underneath the covers, sleep making your mind take the sensation and let it influence your dreams.

A large body hovered over you, looming like the mountains around the settlement. Protective, a sight to behold at any time of day, as steady as the day turns to night. But the body was so much closer, pressing your back down into the mattress, making your head spin with the heady feel of it.

Thump, thump, thump.

Heart beating hard as pleasure coursed through your veins, brought to life by the feeling of fingers smoothing over your skin. Trailing down over your belly button and through course hair to find your slick folds. Delving between them, parting them, caressing over your fluttering core and then in, producing an obscene sound as they filled you up. Another set of fingers gentle nudging that little bundle of nerves to light your body up even further, heat encompassing you, suffocating you as they quickened their pace.

Thump, thump, thump.

Your heartbeat was harsh in your ears, roaring loud and with a jolt, you realized it wasn’t your heart. It was the sound of someone knocking on your front door.

Eyes flying open, the phantom sensations of being pinned down, of thick fingers caressing the most intimate parts of your body, of the rasped-out nickname in a voice that wasn’t real were ripped from you. You were alone in your bed, your hands the only ones bringing you pleasure.

“Olive?” The faint call of that deep voice your mind had tried to convince you was whispering sweet nothings in your ear was down the hall and on the other side of your front door.

What was Joel Miller doing calling on you in the middle of the day, effectively splashing a bucket of cold water over you as you realized you had been fantasizing about him as you touched yourself.

Embarrassment and guilt squashed the pleasure that had been consuming you, lingering tingles making it hard to clear the fog of your sleep hazed mind. Throwing on the robe hanging on the back of your bedroom door, you took a deep breath to steady yourself before approaching the door he knocked on again.

He must’ve been preparing to walk off when you swung your door open, his back to you and a hand on rubbing on the back of his neck. He turned back at the sound, eyes taking in the disheveled form you were sure you made in your doorway. It was the afternoon, and here you were in a robe and hardly anything else, being pulled from your bed.

“Oh, hey- you were sleeping.” His eyes quickly averted, a hand waving at you as a blush crept up along the apples of his cheeks. You wondered what had him so flustered, his hands clenching and unclenching just below the sleeves of his jacket.

“I should’ve been up already, it’s okay.” You said quietly, taking in the bulk of him on your small stoop. It was a little disorienting, mind imagining him and now being faced with him so close. “D-did you need-“

“Was coming by to see if you needed any help with taking down that tree Tommy mentioned.”

You fell silent at the way he cut you off, his words low like your own, as if he was frustrated.

“Cause if you did all you had to do was ask.”

“I-I didn’t want to add to your list, that little notepad is always so full of-“

“I offered too and you said no. But you’re not even doing what you took the time off for.”

“Excuse me?” You leaned back from him, worry and your own annoyance flaring. Just because you took one morning to yourself didn’t mean you were shirking your responsibilities. His words hitting too close to the wound that everyone else’s had dug close to your heart.

“You take the time off every year, which you didn’t tell me about. Tommy blurted it out to get some sort of satisfaction out of your miscommunication and you’re not even taking care of the trees.”

“Joel-“

“You know what, just, never mind. I’m heading around back to take care of it for you. Go back to bed.”

And then he was stomping down the steps and rounding the side of your house. The gate creaking open to signal his entrance to your backyard.

“Well, excuse the fuck outta me, Mr. Miller.” You mumbled as you shut the front door and moved back to the bedroom. Dressing in a ratty pair of jeans and a long-stained t-shirt in a rush. Putting up your hair as you walked into the back room to retrieve the axe he would need for the work he took it upon himself to do.

It was hard not to stare, your eyes glued to the man as he expertly wielded the axe and chopped down the damaged olive tree. He had shrugged off his flannel after trimming it of the few branches that stretched from the trunk, leaving him in just the t-shirt he donned underneath. A crisp white that displayed the sweat on the small of his back and between his broad shoulders. A crisp white that displayed the bulge of his biceps as he worked. A crisp white that fell just over his waist and billowed up to catch on the spiral top of his notepad peeking out from his back pocket. A crip white that now displayed his rather toned backside to you free from obstruction…

Shaking your head, you continued to pick the fruit from the others. There were three rows of about ten trees, the one you were worried about in the middle of it all. Your movements made you feel like you were slowly circling around him, honing in on the man taking out whatever frustrations he had on the plant. Until everything was gathered, and you retired back inside as the sun beat down what little warmth it still had this late in the season.

The fruit was already washed in the utility sink, resting in strainers set over ratty towels to dry atop the long table in the middle of the room. A record played in the living room, soft guitar and brass filling the space.

Sighing, you poured yourself a few fingers of whisky and then a few into a second glass as you heard the thud of the axe being set against the wall in the back room and steps heading your way.

“Joel, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how.” You offered one of the glasses to him, taking in the way he swiped at his sweating forehead with the back of his arm.

“I know…I’m-I shouldn’t have come at you like that. I’m sorry too.” His fingers brushed yours as he took the peace offering. But he didn’t drink until you lifted your own glass and clinked it to his. “Just…wanted there to be a reason why you weren’t by my side for a little bit.”

Stepping forward to run a hand down from his shoulder to elbow in a comforting move, you motioned him to follow you.

Through the hours of the afternoon and into the evening, you explained the difference between the colors of the fruit. The flavor profiles of each, of how you always sorted even portions of the harvest out for oil, for pickling, for the raw fruit to be shared with the town. You walked him through the process of turning a small batch into a paste, straining it over and over again to produce the oil. Two pairs of hands slick with it as he helped you after he had asked how you managed to do it.

He had asked of your knowledge, prompting you to admit that it was all learned since arriving here and being assigned to the house with the trees in the backyard. That it hadn’t been something you carried with you beforehand. You asked after his woodworking, how it had turned into crafting small figurines.

And he answered much the same as you. Learned skills to help deal with and adapt to the slower way of life Jackson allowed you both to lead.

“You left one on the table.” His voice was right behind you, having followed you into the backroom. You turned to look at him over your shoulder before going back to placing the jars in your hand into a battered plastic crate. One was for the pickled and general olives, while another was for the oil you would make once the distraction of Joel Miller was gone from your kitchen. The only evidence of such from today’s activities in his hand.

“Oh, that one’s for you.”

“I couldn’t, you need it for trade. Everythin’ helps.”

“I insist, it’ll be good to have in your kitchen.”

“It’s just gonna sit there on the counter beside the stove.”

“Well, take it. Just in case.” You whispered. Noticing how close he had gotten in an attempt to hand the jar to you. He was close enough to smell the way the olive leaves had permeated his clothing. The perfume of the freshly chopped wood stained his skin in a heady way. You felt the counter dig into your hips, having unconsciously backed into it beside the deep sink.

“In case of what, sweetheart?” He lowered his voice to a raspy whisper, tongue peeking between his lips as he took in the way you had a smudge of dirt under your eye in the warm light of your kitchen bleeding into the backroom. His gaze snapped to his hand as you bravely tangled your fingers with his own. Feeling your lips curl into a playful smile, you leaned up and whispered into his ear.

“The food critic decides to play personal chef.”

Oh, he liked that. If the widening of his pupils was any indication, the way his breath caught in his throat and he swallowed as he pulled back a little to look over your face.

He leaned in to press a cautious kiss to your cheek, knowing there was no bruise or cut to disguise his move as anything other than the blatant want for it. The soft scratch of his mustache lighting you up.

Your breath fanned out across his face, skin prickling along his body at the warmth of it bouncing back to you. A small huff the only noise coming from you. His eyes flicked up to capture yours, and you felt your heart lurch. He was so handsome, his lips looked so plush and pink this close. There was no way he could’ve missed the way you had glanced down at them, how you were thinking of feeling them pressed to your skin in other places, of the way you pulled your own bottom one between your teeth at the thought.

He leaned in, sharing breath with you, his nose brushing against yours before-

The needle of the record player scratching across vinyl startled you both, jolting in response to the harsh noise breaking the bubble of tension surrounding you both. Your hands had flown up to grip his shoulders tight while his arms had wrapped around your back and pulled you to him. Heart thundering for a completely different reason now, you cast your eyes over his shoulder toward to the record player.

With nervous laughter you stepped away from the man and set about lifting it from the still spinning record. His eyes are on you as you replace the record with another, setting it up to play and then turning back around to him. Your heart still thumping in your chest as you watch him hold tight to the jar in his hand and dip his head to you in a departing bow.

He made sure it was well into the evening before enlisting Tommy’s help. The forlorn way you had looked at the pieces of the tree once it was no longer standing proud among the others had stirred an idea in his mind. He was going to take the thickest part of the trunk, because he wasn’t stealing it away. No. He was going to return it to you once he had cut it into slabs and let it dry. He was going to return it to you in the form of a cutting board, crafted from the beloved trees in your care and in honor of the namesake you’d adapted.

But it had to be perfect. He would practice on other planks and cuts of wood until he was able to craft one that would be good enough for you. Setting his mind and heart on the endeavor.

Once he was back home with the trunk set in room set up as his workspace, stepping out of the shower and collapsing into the bed, he let a lazy smile overtake him.

He may be tired, exhausted beyond his limits. But he wouldn’t have traded his afternoon with you for all the restful sleep in the world.

He couldn’t get the feeling of your lips against his skin out of his mind. The gentle pressure of them grazing over his injuries, the gentle pressure against the patch in his beard he had never been fond of until that moment.

“Fuck,” He groaned out, palm tight around his aching cock. He had woken up thinking of your lips on more of his body, trailing over his skin in sucking kisses, tongue laving at every inch. He had been leaking and hard, his hand around himself before he had even come to complete consciousness.

The very real image of you stood in your doorway clad in nothing but your robe, the way the swell of your breasts was visible with the way you must’ve thrown it on to answer his knocking. The way your eyes were cloudy, slowly clearing and your face slightly flushed, as if you had just been- he groaned deep from within his chest. It had looked like you had just been deep in the throes of pleasure, body overwhelmed with it and torn away by his calling on you. Hair mused and breath a little too quick, he wondered what you sounded like. Would you whimper softly or moan out loudly, would you be shy and cover your face with your arms or would you scramble for any purchase as it raced through your body, swelling up to consume you.

He pumped his hand slowly now, reveling in the feeling stirring low in his gut. The strikes of pleasure moving through him as he recalled the way you had felt against him as you both rode back on your horse.

The way your hip had felt in his hands as he had tried to steady himself. His mind taking the thought and running with it, the imagining the way he would grip you from behind. You down on your hands and knees, legs parted to make room for him to fit between them, thrust against you as deep as he could, your keening-

He choked on his own breath as the sheer force of his release hit him, sudden and overwhelming. Spurts of pearlescent cum coating his hand and dripping over his knuckles.

Euphoria filling him up with satisfaction, his body humming with it until the guilt slammed into him.

He just fucked his fist to the thought of you. His patrol partner. His…friend. The woman he couldn’t get out of his mind even if his life depended on it.

Catching his breath, he looked out the window across from his bed. Stars glittering at him through the curtains as if they know all the dirty things that had just run through his mind, sharing in his secrets.

The only small blessing of his complete lack of self-control and oversight is that he doesn’t have to ride alongside you today on patrol.

“I’ve got the first batch of the season,” You announced as you walked through the doors of the small makeshift market. It was right along the main street, a few fronts down from the mess hall and the Tipsy Bison.

“Oh, lovely!” The man at the back counter praised, clearing a space atop it for you to put down the delivery.

“Marsha.” You nodded toward her in greeting, uncomfortable with the way her eyes had followed you through the few aisles after letting the man go over the contents of the crate. Another nod to her daughter, standing right beside her with a small wicker basket full of root vegetables. “I’ve got a jar in there for you, with the garlic you managed to salvage from the garden.”

She didn’t say anything, looking for all the world like her voice had been stolen from her. A small nudge from her daughter jostled her and she seemed to find it.

“Thank you, Olive. That was…very sweet of you to think of me.”

“Of course, anything to be of help.”

“Yes, of course.” She repeated your words, trailing off as she noticed a figure across the street. Her eyes tracked their movement but when you turned to see what had caught her attention there was no one there. Suddenly she was speaking your actual name and it roused your nerves to life. “You…do so much for the town, I just wanted you to know that we all appreciate the time you take each year to handle the harvest.”

“O-oh, well, um, thank you, Marsha. That’s very k-kind of you to say.”

“Momma,” Millie whispered, taking ahold of the older woman’s arm. Something in her voice you couldn’t quite get a read on. Taking that as your queue to cut off the rather awkward interaction, you waved at them and began to head back up to the counter to collect the items you had requested in exchange for the crate of jars. Your ears were strained, trying to catch the hushed words the women shared behind your back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I realized how…unfairly we speak about her. Someone convinced me to apologize to her.”

“She doesn’t deserve apologies, she’s the reason-“

“Millie, we need to work on moving past that. It’s been five years now. We can all live alongside each other with the understanding of what happened.”

“No, momma, you may be ready to forgive her but I’m not. She got my Aiden and I’m not going to let her drag down Joel too.”

“He was the one who told me to be nicer to her, just trying to appease the lovely man.”

Any good feelings of a successful harvest and two weeks of working countless hours to jar, pickle, and transform the fruit from your trees vanished. The awkward yet positive sentiment from one of your more…complicated social connections going down with it at Millie’s angered words. You tried to muster up a smile for the man at the counter, taking the crate back from him with the trade items but you weren’t sure if you were able to. Not turning to look at the women, you exited the shop and made your way straight back home despite the list of errands in your pocket.

Of course Joel had caught wind of the way people spoke of you.

Heard it from Marsha herself, the source of all your troubles despite having done everything in your power to counteract the bad you had brought down on the town with your incompetence. He had put his own reputation at stake by sticking up for you and you only hoped it didn’t affect the way he was received. He was so important to the town, achieving far more than you in what he provided and brought in his skill set.

You didn’t want him to feel even a fraction of what you did as you navigated life here in the settlement. The pitying looks cast your way, the whispered words of what people felt entitled enough to voice, the way you seemed to only be good for one thing and it was the crop in the backyard of the house you had been assigned by pure circumstance.

The crate thudded atop the table where you thrust it harshly, frustration controlling your movements as you moved through the small house back to your room. Shucking off and resisting the urge to hurl your boots toward the closet you sighed as you felt tears prickle your eyes. They rolled hot down your cheeks as you curled up in the covers and gave up on what was supposed to be a good day.

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dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

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m4k4yl4 · 6 months

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Just the two of us[🔥]

Day 1

Summary: When Jeongin and y/n go on their annual Best Friend Christmas Vacation (™️), what happens when they accidentally book the wrong suite..

Content warning: unprotected sex, making out, cum play, teasing, nicknames(baby, sloppy girl), cumming inside, dirty talking, rough sex

Skz 25 days to Christmas fics🎄☃️ series

Masterlist

Posted: 12/01/2023

Y/n sits in the car with jeongin watching the snow fall outside as they make their to the hotel from their annual Christmas vacation, but bo matter home many times they do this every year she still couldn't help but feel so close, too close to him.

His hand laid on the gear shift in the middle of them one move, and his hand would be on her thigh, and that thought played in her mind the whole ride as he sits their oblivious to her feelings, sitting in his matching ugly christmas sweater, tapping his prerty fingers on the wheel to whatever christmas sing came on the radio.

"What are you thinking about?" He glances at her, "Hm? Nothing, why?" She answered a bit fast. He chuckles, "You've had that look on for the 30 minutes. It's your thinking face. Would you like to share with class what's going on up there?" He gives her a playful smile.

She clears her throat before speaking, "it's nothing really, just thinking about what while do once we get to the hotel and everything." She gives a smile back before looking down at her lap arms, starting to cross like she's balling in on herself, hoping he wouldn't ask anymore questions about what she was thinking of.

He takes notice in the movement, taking a glance before moving his hand onto her thigh, "are you cold?" Y/n freezes, her body tensed up at the action, every different scenario and situation played through her head as she looked down at his big hand placed on her, thumb rubbing back and forth on her covered skin.

"Y'know, I told you to wear thicker pants y/n. Those pajamas pants are no use in this weather they're too thin." She gives him a nervous chuckle, not moving her gaze from her leg. "Yeah, of course, sorry. It's just that they're so comfortable.."

"You're lucky I thought of you and brought a blanket just in case." He slips his hand off of her leg, reaching in the back to grab the blanket and handing it to her as she grabs it from him, still mourning the loss of the warmth from his hand. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." The rest of the rise was silent besides the radio playing and the soft sound of snow falling outside. As they finally pull into the parking lot of the hotel, y/n quickly gets out of the car, feeling like she can finally breathe now. Jeongin groans, "Oh god my back hurts, fucking 5 hour car ride suck." She laughs, "You don't gotta tell me I was in the car with you the whole time, my legs are numb."

He laughs with her as they open the trunk taking out their luggage. Jeongin opens the door to the hotel for her, and as y/n enter, she's met with the gust of heat from inside and the smell of christmas. "I always love the way they decorate here." She speaks, looking around the place at the giant christmas tree in the middle of the whole place christmas lights hanging from above as she hears faint music in the background.

Jeongin walks up to the front desk, getting the key for their room, while y/n stayed seated in the main lounge, waiting for him. "Okay, I got the key! Let's go!" They make their upstairs y/n looks around at the other rooms they pass.

"We're not usually on this floor when we come. Are you sure this is right?" Jeongin just smirks at her, "Yup, got a surprise for you." She looks at him confused as they stop at a hotel room almost at the end of the hallway, "A surprise?" Just as she said that, he unlocks the door, letting her go in first, but instead of the happy surprised face he hoped for, he was met with a concerned shocked face instead.

"Jeongin? Is there supposed to only be one bed in here?" Now he's confused too, "huh?" He peaks in seeing one big bed in the middle of the room sitting on it two robes and a bucket of ice with wine bottles and two glasses. "This was not the suite I reserved.."

"You got a suite?" She smiles at thought of him doing this for her, "Well yeah, but I guess I accidentally booked a couple's suite instead. I'm really sorry, I could go downstairs to see if they have any other rooms open." She stops him.

"No! Jeongin, it's fine, really. we're friends, it's normal to share a bed, right? We'll be fine." He smiles down at her, "yeah, yeah, you're right." They enter the room sitting their luggage down as they take in the place.

"Well, at least we get free wine from this." Jeongin comments picking up a bottle to look at. "Yeah, it's a really nice suite, and the bed is so soft!" She falls back on the bed Jeongin joining her. He turns his head towards her, staring at her features, trying to take them all in.

Y/n turns her head, feeling someone's eyes on her, "What?" She questioned Jeongin as he continued to stare, "Nothing.." He says nothing after that but reaches out to her face, resting his hand on her face.

Y/n could feel her skin heating up at how close they were. The feeling of his hand on her face felt scolding like rocks fresh out from a volcano. She quickly sits up, deciding to ignore the moment that had just happened.

"It's getting late, I'm gonna take a shower really quick." She doesn't wait for an answer, grabbing her thing and heading into the big bathroom. "Okay! I'll be out here.." Jeongin responded a little too late.

As y/n stood in the shower and washed away the long car ride from earlier, she seemed too busy in her own mind to hear the man she loved so dearly walk it in the bathroom, til she heard shuffling pulling the curtain back to to peek out seeing jeongin there.

"Jeongin?! What are you doing?? I'm in the shower!" He laughs, "Yeah, I can tell, I just came in to tell you that I was heading downstairs to get dinner, okay?" She nods "okay yeah."

After she had gotten out the shower, she sat on the bed in her robe, trying to find what pajamas she should wear. "I'm back.." Jeongin sentence comes to a stop as he his eyes trailed y/n body robe barley cover her chest as she looks back at him.

"Ah! You got dumplings. I've been wanting some!" She walks over, grabbing the bag from him to sit it down on the table "yeah..You've been saying that, thought I would get you some." She smiles at the gesture sitting down at the table, "Come eat! I'm not eating all of this alone." He comes up sitting down with her, "You sure as hell aren't."

Hours had passed since the two had eaten, and some things had led to another, and one of the bottles of wine had been opened up, as they both sit in bath robes watching whatever christmas movie was on. "Y'know, we should've been getting the couple's suite since the start. This is nice." She laughs, a little tipsy from the wine.

"Yeah, this is nice.. especially with you." He looks over at her. 'There it is again, this little staring contest he keeps doing with me' y/n thought. "You gotta staring probably, mr.yang?" He scoffs, "what makes you say that?" She giggles."I don't know, it's just feels like you haven't been able to take your eyes off me today."

Jeongin doesn't know if it's the wine or the suite or just him being tired of hiding his feelings to get this boldness out of him but before he could think about it his hand is back on her thigh, but this time there's no pants to stop the skin to skin contact.

"Maybe it's cause you're so pretty, ever thought about that?" Y/n eyes widened as he said that her own ha d sliding down touch the one on her thigh, "Jeongin-" "Just shut up, will you." He cuts her off, leaning to and connecting their lips in a heated kiss.

She gasps into the kiss but slowly melts into his arms, a hand planted on his chest while the other guides his hand on her thigh upwards. "Jeongin, please.." she pouts, "Please, what baby? You gotta speak up." He teased

She scoffs at his teasing guiding his hand to her clit feeling his fingers lightly glide over it making her whimper. "Want you so bad, you don't understand. I need you Innie..please." He laughs against her lip.

"Okay, baby. Whatever you want.." He pushes her leg to open her up more glancing down at her pussy, "You're already this wet and I've barley done anything. Did my fingers get you all work up already?"

He taunts her as two fingers slide into her hole. She covers her mouth with the back of her hand as she throws her head back. "Wait- it's too much-" He chuckles, "If just two of my fingers is two much for you how are you gonna take my cock baby? Are we just gonna have to stretch your sloppy hole out all night and make you a crying mess?"

"No! I want your cock, please Innie." He tsk, "I don't think you take it baby.." "I can! I will please," She begs him, her moans getting in the way of her sentence as he curls his fingers inside of her touching places she couldn't.

"Oh really? Well, if you're so sure about..." He slides his fingers out of causing a whine to slip out her mouth, and before she knows it, she gets flipped onto her knees right above jeongin crotch. "Then ride me, baby. If you want my cock so bad."

She moans at his words dragging her hand done his chest til they stopped at his robes belt undoing it, now having a whole view of his body, "Don't be nervous baby.." He runs hand down her side planting them on her hips as she lines herself up with his dick.

She slowly slides down as they both let out a pleasurable hiss at the feeling. "Fuck- too much, Jeongin.." he smirks, "I thought you wanted it? Said you could take it, so take it, baby, " He thrust up into her, causing her to fall forever, nails digging into his shoulder.

"God, you feel so good, baby. Take me so well. C'mon baby fuck yourself on my cock, there you go." He let's out an airy laugh Inbetween his moans as y/n starts lifting herself up and down on his cock and he continues to pump into her their skin connecting every thrust causing embarrassing slapping sounds to start up.

Y/n buries her face onto the crook of his, letting him guide her hips. "J-Jeongin! Innie, I'm close, please!" She squeals at him, speeding up her movements to get to the edge.

"Yeah? You gonna cum around around my cock? Make a mess all over the bed and clean it up, yeah?" She shakes in his arms as he continues to pound into her hole as if she was a fuck toy.

"Gonna let me stay inside and use you? Cum inside and let me fuck it back inside you make your hole all messy. You're just my sloppy girl, aren't you?" He grabs her face, squeezing her cheek Inbetween his fingers, "Yes! I'm your sloppy girl! Fuck- I'm cumming!"

She let's out one last squeal as she finally let's go shaking and squeeze around his cock causing his oragsm to come after. He holds her down on him, filling her feeling some of it slip past and down his cock.

"Fuck..you're so good baby.." He sighs out as they both try to catch their breathe. She looks up at him, wiping sweat from his face, pushing his hair back before leaning in , kissing him.

He holds onto her as they kiss more passionate than the last time. She slowly separates from the kiss, looking hin in the eyes, "Jeongin, please don't leave me.. I don't want this to be a one and done type thing.." He smiles at her, giving her a kiss on the forehead, "wasn't planning on it to be a one and done. You're stuck with me, baby."

She smiles at him, turning to the side to lay on the bed, "I'm glad I'm stuck with you.." He smiles at her, eyes shinning. "I'm glad too." He pulls her in more cuddling her as they try to get their energy again before, before jeongin clears his throat.

"We should probably shower quickly before sleeping." Y/n looks up at him, "round 2 in the shower?" She gives puppy eyes as he laughs at her antics. "You don't even have to ask twice." He gets up from bed, picking her up to head to the bathroom, making her giggle.

Best Christmas Vacation Ever.

A/N: YESSS! I GOT IT OUT ON TIMEE! this took way too long, but I love Jeongin, so it was worth it🤧🤧

#skz #skz fanfic #skz jeongin #yang jeongin #jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #jeongin fanfic #skz yang jeongin #yang jeongin smut #jeongin smut #skz smut #stray kids jeongin #stary kids #stray kids smut

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tare-anime · 4 months

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I've watched Spy x Family Code White!!!!

And and ........!!!!

OmG!!!!

It's so totally awesome!!!

Tbh, I've never watched anime movie that good before!

I might be biased, but truly, it WAS so AWESOME that I'm planning to rewatch it (if I've ever managed to find extra free time)

My full with spoiler review under the cut

So first of all, the animation quality WAS top notch!

They way they draw scenery, background, lighting, camera movements. OmG!! I really love how WIT studio pay so much attention to details. And the smoothness of it.

The scenery of snowy mountains, sun light reflections through crystalize ice, the water...... wow!

And then there were the difference in way of drawing scenes. Like Anya's imagination was drawn so cartoony, meanwhile Yor's fiery 🔥🔥🔥 fight with type F was drawn with so much intensity, and Loid's stealthy fight was drawn with different color as if Loid was in different dimentions than the rest of the enemies because he was the only one in disguises.

This different way of drawing scenes kind of like Spiderman into the spiderverse, but not to that extent. Nevertheless, it's super awesome.

The foods!!! OmG! Those were detailed and awesome food drawings that make me drools 🤤🤤🤤 desserts, main courses, even snacks!! Wooooaaaa

The action!!! I bow down to the animators. WIT studio once again showing off their skills in drawing super awesome fight action scenes. They draw the character movements very well. Even Fiona get her short glimpse of action scene and that's awesome!

Loid's different action tones animation is super awesome, but I have to bow down and thank the animation team in making Yor (my queeeennn 🛐🛐) being super badass!!! The way she ended the fight with type F??? Guh..... I need all my will power not to screamed "That's my queen!!" in the middle of theatre 🤣

Of course like all anime movies out there, we have to lower our expectation regarding plots. (Plot? What plot? We're here to see the family awesomeness 🤣)

We can easily spot the re-use of plot from canon material but was shown in different font, such as:

Yor's jealousy towards Fiona, that leads her thinking she's inadequate mom and wife, that was a result from her overthink her 3 gossipers cowokers

Fiona's obsesiveness in trying to impress Twilight and becoming the Forger mother

Drunk Yor vs Twilight which ended with Yor sleeping

The super direct advance of Twilight that sucessfully making Yor super embarrases that her body instinc injured Loid

Super long and hiperbolic poop joke from Anya

(These managed to make us the audiences LOLed though 🤣🤣🤣)

Not to say, plot holes (?) Or plot that make you go "huh?", such as:

The super unnecessary idea of replacing Loid with other incompetent agent for a mission as important as Op.Strix

The possible stella from a cooking contest that end up all for nothing because of technicallity malfunction

Putting a very valuable microchip inside a common trunk, and all of a sudden was transported in a common train, leniently lying around in a place where a kid can meddle with it. Secured with only 1 very common key.

A secret recipe of dessert that is a secret but the restaurant owner can give the ingridients to stranger because the owner felt guilty that Anya's share was taken by a foodie adult with military power.

An old plane memento that somehow still in prime condition that can be used by Twilight to pursue Anya's kidnappers.

I can't be helped. The animators may not create something that might disturb canon stories afterall. So these plots were just there to drive the story forward, and forward the story goes!!

(Despite all the things I mentioned above, I still enjoyed the story well.)

And then, last but the most important things, the movie managed to deliver the family awesomeness so well!! The animators clearly know the character and character dinamics so very well. And I, again, bow down to them. 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

There are so many moments that will make you go "awwwwwww" and give you so much fluff and sweetness you'd have diabetes right away.

The way Loid always tried his best to give the best for the family, but he forget that the family IS the important one. And Yor was there to softly remind him of it. (This scene was so soft I really teared up 🥲🥲🥲🥲)

The way Anya tried her best to help her papa in acquiring the ingridients because that's the mission was, but eventually she got into trouble. And yet at the end Loid was still very proud of her.

The way Yor took care of Anya and play with her during the trip, the way she protected Anya during their initial fight and at the end of the fight (so many mother daughter moments!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰)

The difference way of fighting between Twilight and Thorn Princess. Like Twilight will go all stealth and disguises until he can't. Meanwhile Thorn Princess was just strorm right through the front door (or rear wall in this movie), demolishing everything while at the same time politely asking for her daughter and husband 🤣🤣🤣

The way all of family working together so that the plane didn't crash at the town, and the way they laugh (Yor and Anya were laughing out loud, meanwhile Loid was chuckling) when all of them managed to "safely" landed.

Good boy Bond always tried his best to support Anya and even galantly tried to defend her but alas, he was no match to human enemy. 🥲🥲

I was just 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

And really, Endo should take notes.

Because all of these are what make we love Forger family. And that it IS possible to make the family do a mission together without revealing their secrets. Like Loid's lousy excuses that make Yor went wooooww, Yor's even more lousy half lies that Loid believes just like that 🤣🤣🤣🤣 (these two omG!)

I also love how Anya as the captain of TwiYor ship actively pushing her parents. Yes Anya 🥰🥰🥰

I also love how the main villain able to recognize Twilight in disguises via the unusual scent. Like. Woa!! That is so possible!! I mean, latex should have a very distinctive smell afterall.

All in all, truly an amazing first movie!!! I do hope one day the anime team will continue to make amazing movies in the future. 🥰🥰🥰

#spy x family #yor forger #loid forger #anya forger #twiyor #bond forger #sxf movie #sxf code white #spy x family code white #sxf movie review

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joels-shitty-puns · 5 months

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Melt With You

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Reader

Summary: Based on this request! "Just a soft and romantic winter night besides the fireplace with kisses and long talks..."

Warnings: Fluff, kisses, cursing.

Word count: 1k

_____

You climbed into the passenger seat of Pedro's car, throwing the shopping bags in the back seat with a groan. Pedro turned the key in the ignition and immediately you clicked the AC on full blast, only to be met with hot air. “UGHHHH,” you grumbled angrily. “WHY IS IT SO FUCKING HOT!?!” You clipped your seatbelt in a rage.

The two of you had just gone holiday shopping in the middle of December, not that you could tell based on the weather. If someone didn't know the date, they'd think it was June. The midday heat was baking your skin, the thermometer in your boyfriend’s car reading 80° Fahrenheit. California had some exceptional views and often nice weather, making for some great beach days... But when it's December and all you hear on the radio are songs like “Let it Snow” and “Winter Wonderland,” it was hard to feel wintery when the outside didn't reflect that at all.

“I know, baby. It doesn't really feel like the holidays when we're out here melting,” he settled his hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

The air conditioning had finally started to cool, along with your anger, and you gave a sigh. “I just want to sit by a fire with you and watch the snow fall outside the window,” you leaned your face into your palm, resting against the window. “It just doesn't really feel like the holidays right now.” Pedro turned his face away from the road to look at you briefly, reaching to take your other hand from your lap.

“Baby, I have an idea,” he answered you, kissing your knuckles.

_____

Two days later, you were packing a bag full of warm clothes, getting ready for a cozy weekend away in the California mountains. The drive was a couple hours long, but you were so excited to spend a relaxing weekend away with Pedro that you couldn't stop smiling. The radio buzzed away, playing holiday music, and before long, the station lost service through the mountain road.

“Sleigh bells ring, are you listening..” Pedro began, singing just above hearing volume into the now silent car.

“In the lane, snow is glistening…” you smiled at him, singing the next response.

“A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight,” he squeezed your hand, “Walkin' in a winter wonderland,” you harmonized.

Finally the two of you reached the house, a quaint little cabin off the main road, next to the forest. It was surrounded by thick pine trees freshly dusted with snow, and the flakes were starting to come down heavier now. Your grin spread across your face as you jumped out of the car like a child at the playground and instantly scooped up a snowball.

SMACK, you hit Pedro on his back with the fluffy ball, watching it explode into a mess of frost on his shirt. Pedro, who was unloading the bags from the trunk, turned in offense. “You did not just throw a snowball at me when I'm pulling your suitcase out of the trunk,” he laughed, immediately reaching down to scoop one up in defense. “And in the back, no less!” He threw the snowball directly at your chest, with a thump. “Like a coward,” he smirked, throwing a second snowball he had formed at the same time as the first.

You gasped in shock, “oh now you're gonna GET IT!!!” You quickly bent down to create another frosty weapon, but when you looked up, he had started to run away through the snow.

“And I'm the coward!?” You bellowed, your voice echoing through the mountain air.

You began to toss another ball, but before the perfectly aimed shot hit him again, he dove to the side in the snow, dodging it narrowly and hiding behind a tree trunk.

He let out an evil cackle. “Good luck getting me now, baby!” You saw him peek around the tree before bending down to scoop some ammo.

While he wasn't looking, you snuck closer, hiding behind a shed and running around to the other side for a sneak attack.

“Babe? Where'd you go?” Pedro asked loudly.

Jumping out from your hiding place, you charged him, throwing four snowballs at him, one after the other.

He screamed, snow in his mouth, his hair, his shirt, his pants.

“You DEVIL!” He laughed before jumping up and chasing after you, tackling you into the fluffy powder below.

The snow at your back was freezing through your coat and pants, but with his warm body on top, pressed into you, you felt nice and toasty. It quickly lit a fire into you, and you pulled the collar of his thick jacket down towards you, pulling him into a deep kiss.

“I love you,” you smiled, breaking the kiss.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He pecked your lips gently. “Even if you do play dirty.”

“It's not my fault you suck at snowball wars,” you grinned, your teeth beginning to chatter as the snow seeped through your clothing.

“Let's go inside,” he rolled over, grabbing your arm and pulling you up with him.

You walked into the cabin, taking off your wet clothes and quickly changing into some sweats and a hoodie.

Pedro changed as well, throwing on a flannel and gray sweatpants. You stared, eyeing him from head to toe as he grabbed some logs and a lighter before starting a fire. The fireplace was next to the plush loveseat, a fluffy rug on the floor in front of it. The chimney was made of gray rock and was easily one of the most gorgeous fireplaces you had ever seen. With the fire finally roaring, you sat on the couch, grabbing a large, thick blanket. Pedro settled in beside you, leaning back and pulling you into his chest before tucking the blanket gently around your bodies.

“Thank you for this,” you sighed, tilting your head back to kiss his lips before leaning against his shoulders.

“I needed this too,” he replied with a smile, wrapping his arms around your body.

With the fire crackling a few feet away and your boyfriend snuggled tightly against you, you felt your temperature warming. But unlike the other day, this heat felt right. The two of you chatted and cuddled, kisses sprinkled throughout, before eventually falling asleep in each other's arms.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #a! wrote a fic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x afab!reader #A! answers asks #A! answers requests #pedro pascal fluff

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nicoline1998enilocin · 2 months

Text

Bare it all | Part 2

PAIRING | Boyfriend!Tony Stark x Girlfriend!Avenger!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 6.2K

SUMMARY | Your relationship with Tony has been a fairytale, but when you unexpectedly become pregnant with his baby, your entire world is turned upside down. You're not sure how he will react to the news, but you will always have your best friend Natasha by your side, no matter what.

RATING | Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Age gap, use of nicknames, established relationship, secret relationship, referenced near-fatal accident, accidental pregnancy, morning sickness, pregnancy test, referenced infertility, referenced anxiety, Natasha's past in the red room is referenced.

SMUT | Dirty talk, praise, daddy kink, innocence kink, size kink, slight breeding kink, teasing, back-scratching, nipple play, oral (F&M receiving), fingering, handjob, deepthroating, facial/cumming on the face, cockwarming, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), cream pie, aftercare.

A/N | This one-shot is written based on this request. While writing this story, I kept getting more and more thoughts and ideas to add, so I decided to turn this story into a four-part mini-series! I cannot thank @ccbsrmsf1 enough for the endless support, supply of ideas, and proofreading you've done for me. You're an angel, and I love you 🩷

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | Photo: @ccbsrmsf1

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 3

The moment you were recruited to join the Avengers after working through SHIELD's most challenging programs, you were paired up with Iron Man to show you the ropes. Your super soldier strength combined with Tony's intelligence was perfect because you two have become inseparable on the battlefield, already knowing what the other person is thinking before they even have to say it.

However, during all your work together, something happened that neither of you expected. You started developing crushes on each other, though you were both too stubborn to admit it out loud, let alone to the other person. When Tony finally gathered his courage to tell you about his feelings, you suffered a near-fatal accident, which served only to bring you closer together.

That moment was a year and a half ago, and the relationship is nothing short of a fairytale - even though you have to keep it a secret from the world. Because of this, Tony ensures you are sent on many missions together so you can have quality time together without having to sneak out of each other's rooms in the middle of the night.

Today, you're supposed to go on a mission alone, and most of the Avengers are ready to wave you goodbye since it'll be one where you will be gone for almost a week. They're all there except one: Tony. Little do you know, however, that he has a plan up his sleeve, and he will surprise you with it in less than a minute after saying goodbye to everyone.

"Have a safe drive-" Steve can say before he gets interrupted by Tony running into the garage, panting slightly with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His cheeks are red from the exertion, making him look cute as you look at him with a small smile. The only times you're used to seeing him like this is when you've worn him out completely in the bedroom, making a flurry of butterflies go wild in your stomach.

"Fury told me to go with you, Y/N. Something about needing an extra pair of hands," he said quickly as he opened the trunk of the car, throwing his bag in and winking at you when no one could see it. You raise your brow as you look at him, a smile simultaneously tugging at the corners of your lips.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Nat shake her head slightly, a smile playing on her lips, too. Neither of you knows she has had a slight suspicion about the two of you being together, but she never talks about it, figuring you will speak to her when the timing is right.

Over the last year, you've been visiting Tony's lab more often than you used to, and Nat has started to take notice. Paired with the fact that you're going on more and more missions together and the downright flirting as you've both had a couple of drinks during parties - it all adds up to only one thing for her. You and Tony are a couple, and she couldn't be happier for the two of you.

"Alright, I'm driving!" Tony tells you before grabbing the keys from your hand. A jolt of electricity goes through your body. You look at him to see if he's felt it, too, and based on his face, you know he has. After being together for the time you have been, you two can read each other like an open book.

"Just consider this a road trip with an unexpected companion, and you'll be fine. Let's go, we have a mission to get to," Tony tells you as he gets in, and you can't help but laugh out loud at his comment. He always makes you laugh, and you wave the rest of the Avengers goodbye before getting into the car's passenger side.

Tony quickly pulls the car out of its parking spot before speeding out of the garage and off to your mission. As soon as you're out of sight, his hand is placed on your thigh, squeezing it softly as you put your hand on his.

"Thank you for coming with me, but I am pretty sure I would have been fine on my own, Tony," you say to him, raising your brow as you look at him defiantly. A mischievous smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he looks back at you for a second before concentrating on the road again, squeezing your thigh again.

"But that wouldn't be any fun, now would it, Babygirl? You don't think I will let my girl go on a solo mission when our anniversary is in two days?" those words make you realize his true intentions of coming on the mission with you. He trusts you to go on missions alone but also wants to be with you on your special day.

The two of you have about a three-hour drive ahead of you, but because of the nature of the mission, going by Quinjet was off the table, so you had to make the drive out there not to raise any suspicion to yourselves. During this trip, you and Tony share a lot of sweet moments, jokes, and flirty comments, and if it were up to you, you'd want this drive to last forever.

"I believe we're here," Tony says as he parks the car in the driveway of the safe house that Fury arranged for you to stay in. It's a simple house in a quiet suburban neighborhood. Nestled among the trees and manicured lawns stood a row of charming houses with white picket fences. The streets were lined with colorful flowers, and the sound of children's laughter filled the air.

You're standing on the porch overlooking the street, where kids ride their bikes and play games. Tony stands behind you, looking at them over your shoulder, his hands placed on your hips, and you sigh softly, closing your eyes for a moment. You have pictured yourself in this scenario countless times, with your kids running around and playing games as your husband, Tony, stands there with you. Unfortunately, you will have to do with the moment you're sharing now, as this idea will be far in your future.

"What's on your mind, Beautiful?" Tony asks you in a soft tone, and you shake your head. You're not ready to discuss your ideal future with him yet, seeing how you're a bit afraid he won't like it or not see you in the same way.

"Nothin'. Just enjoying the sun while I can; I doubt it'll be up for much longer," you tell him, which isn't a lie, but it's not the entire truth either. You allow yourself to melt into his hold as he wraps your arms around your waist, pulling him closer. He doesn't respond, and even though he knows you're holding something back from him, he decides not to push for it. Instead, he opts to enjoy the moment with you - the love of his life - in his arms.

The first two days of the mission have gone well, especially with the help of Tony, and now you're in the kitchen as you're preparing dinner for you both. Tony just finished his shower, and soft music fills the house around you, making the atmosphere quite relaxed.

As you finish the last touches to simple seafood pasta, Tony walks into the open kitchen, and you almost drop the pan you're holding at the sight of your boyfriend. He's wearing tight, black sweatpants that perfectly highlight his bulge, and of course, he decided now would be the perfect time to go without underwear.

Today, you and Tony are celebrating your 1.5-year anniversary. He started the day by surprising you with breakfast in bed and a beautiful bouquet of roses on the kitchen island. A small box and a card accompanied the bouquet. In the box was a necklace with the letter T, which made you chuckle.

"I love it, Tony, thank you. But you'll have to wait for your gift until we're back home tonight," you told him before kissing him deeply. The promise of what's to come later has been buzzing around in both your heads all day whenever there was a spare moment to think about anything other than the mission, and you were both eager to come home tonight.

"So, when will I be getting my present? Before or after dinner?" Tony asks as you put down the pan you're holding. He pushes his chest against your back, allowing you to feel that he's already getting hard at the thought of what's about to happen.

"I was planning on giving it to you after dinner, but I can give you a little taste of what I'm planning for later if you want it," you tell your boyfriend as you turn in his hold, your hand mingling in the hair on the nape of his neck as you pull him close.

"I would love nothing more, Babygirl," Tony whispers against your lips before closing the gap, his soft, pink lips gliding with yours effortlessly as you fully give yourself to him. A soft tug on the hair you're holding has him smirking as he pulls away, his eyes half-lidded as he looks at you with a love-filled look.

Without saying a single word, you push Tony so he's standing with his back against the kitchen island, and your hands roam over his chest, your nails dragging softly over his nipples, making him moan ever so softly. You take your time sinking to your knees, all while never losing eye contact with him as you pull his pants down just enough to free his hard cock.

"It's so big, Daddy! I don't think it'll fit in my mouth," you tell him in a semi-innocent tone, and you can see his cock twitch at your words. From the moment you found out Tony has a colossal innocence kink, you like to act the part now and again, much to his delight.

"Hmm, I think it'll fit perfectly in that perfect, tight mouth of yours, Babygirl," he tells you, his hand cupping your jaw as he looks down at the way you're sitting on your knees before him. His thumb slides over your bottom lip before sliding into your mouth, and your lips close tentatively around it before suckling softly.

"Good girl," Tony whispers before pulling his thumb away, grabbing his cock instead. Your gaze is immediately pulled to the way his veiny, pink shaft is slowly worked up and down by his large hand, his fingers curling around it just the way he likes. A small bead of pre-cum gathers at the tip, and you immediately lick it up, moaning lightly as the taste hits your tongue.

His free hand pulls you closer to it, and you open your mouth instinctively. Your lips wrap around the tip, and your eyes slip shut as you feel the comforting weight of it glide over your tongue. As you take everything Tony gives you, your hands grip his thighs, your cheeks sucked in with every inch Tony gives you.

"That's it, Babygirl, you're taking me so well in that beautiful mouth of yours," your boyfriend grunts out, and you feel your pussy clench around nothing as your arousal builds quickly. Once his tip hits the back of your throat, your eyes shoot open, and they immediately lock onto Tony's.

He pulls back a little bit before repeating the action, and this time you're prepared as he guides you further onto his cock. With a few more strokes, you're taking all of him as your nose is pressed against his pelvic bone, right between his Adonis belt. Tony groans deeply as he keeps you there for a second or two, quickly pulling out before doing it again and repeating this over and over again.

It doesn't take long for Tony to throw his head back, and he groans your name through his teeth as he's on the edge. Without warning, you pull off his cock with a loud pop before stroking his cock in tight strokes. As a result, Tony is surprised when he cums, and every last drop of his seed is on your face and outstretched tongue, making you look filthy.

"Look at you, Babygirl; here I was thinking you're such a sweet, innocent little girl, but all you want is to be painted by Daddy's cum, huh?" Tony asks before scooping some cum from your face and feeding it to you, making you swallow it with a content smile on your face.

"But I am your innocent little girl, Daddy," you say with a small pout and big doe eyes as Tony helps you up. You're still trembling a little from sitting on the tiled floor, but you're more than okay with that. He leans in to place a soft peck on your lips before sending you to the bathroom with a soft swat on your butt. He quickly cleans himself off before finishing dinner for you both, plating it beautifully right when you walk back.

"Thank you for that taste, Babygirl; I cannot wait to see what you'll have in store for dessert," Tony whispers before kissing your temple. You smile at his words, as he doesn't even know half of what you have planned for him later.

"C'mere, Babygirl," Tony says as you're seated on the couch, gesturing to your feet. You're enjoying a glass of wine, and there's a TV show playing that neither of you has heard of before, but it's nice enough for some background noise. With a soft groan, you lift your feet on his lap, and he takes off your socks, tickling the bottom of your feet.

"Hey! Not fair!" you tell him with a large smile. He nods before grabbing hold of one of them and massaging carefully - you can feel the tension seeping out of your feet with every move of his skilled hands, his long, thick fingers massaging every inch of them until you're fully relaxed.

As you give yourself over to your boyfriend's touches, you slowly feel his hand sliding up your legs to massage your shins and calves, making you groan at the comfortable feeling settling in your body. It doesn't take long for him to find your most sensitive spot, though - your inner thighs. He can spend hours planting countless kisses and loving touches there and take his sweet time as he marks them with hickies and soft bites.

"T-Tony," you plead softly as his fingers glide over the soft, sensitive skin there, goosebumps rising after his fingers take their time mapping out every inch of them, driving you insane.

"What's on your mind, Babygirl?" Tony asks, acting as if he doesn't know what his touches do to you.

"More..." you whisper, and as soon as you've put your glass down, Tony pulls you onto his lap smoothly. Before you know it, you're chest to chest with him, your lips mere inches away from each other, panting slightly as it dawns on you what just happened.

"More... what?" Tony's mouth curls into a mischievous smile, and your heart beats faster as you look at it. Moments like these have your mind racing and your heart beating out of your chest because he knows how to push you to the edge. Whichever one that may be at that moment.

Instead of answering him with words, you cup one of his cheeks with your hands, the other gliding into the hair on the nape of his neck as you close the distance between you two. Tony's hands move from your thighs up and under your shirt, and their warmth makes you melt into him even more.

The kiss is slow but filled with love and nothing short of perfection. This time, you decide to take the lead for a moment as you lick the seam of his lips for the entrance you're craving so desperately. Before your wish is granted, Tony pulls away to remove your shirt, leaving you in only your pants and a bra.

"So beautiful," he whispers against your skin as his lips find your neck and shoulder, placing small kisses that have you squirming on his lap. As you do, you can feel him getting hard again, which only spurs you on more.

"Let's take this party to the bedroom, Babygirl. I want to make nothing but sweet love to you for the rest of the night," Tony tells you, but before you can answer, he gets up, and you wrap your legs around his waist to steady yourself, a squeal escaping your lips. His face is filled with nothing but love as he looks at you. He's head over heels in love with you, and he cannot get enough of telling you - and you can't get enough of hearing it from him.

"Okay," you whisper to him. Within less than a minute, Tony made his way upstairs and to the main bedroom, where he carefully placed you on the bed before stepping back and removing his sweatpants. His cock springs free as it's fully hard, and it slaps against his abdomen with a soft splat from the pre-cum that had gathered at his tip already.

You bite on your lower lip as you look at him. Your gaze slides from his broad shoulders to the arc reactor in his chest, surrounded by his soft, dark chest hair, and from his toned abdomen to the happy trail leading you to the place you love more than anything: his glorious, thick, long cock that manages to split you open perfectly every single time. Combined with his beefy thighs and muscled calves, the sight is complete, and the man looks like the God of Perfection.

"You like what you see?" he asks with a raised eyebrow, and you nod as a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You've never been shy about checking him out when the two of you are alone, and he enjoys taking his time to adore you and your beautiful body as well.

"I always do, Daddy," you tell him as you ogle him for a few more seconds. When you've finally had your fill of looking at him, you lie on your back, allowing Tony to crawl over your body before leaning on one of his arms, the hand on his other one moving to caress your face. Tony takes his time to commit every inch to memory, thinking about how beautiful you are.

"I love you so much, Babygirl; I'm the luckiest man on earth because I'm calling you my girl," he whispers, his hot breath ghosting over your lips as his eyes flick from your eyes to your mouth and back. He can feel his heart beat faster at seeing your smile, as he can never get enough of looking at it and listening to your laugh. Before you get a chance to answer him, he closes the gap between you two, kissing you gently, taking his time to explore the kiss. You two have to do just that all night, and he plans to make every second of it count.

Your hands glide through his hair before pulling on it, not hard, but just enough to make him groan softly into your mouth. Meanwhile, the hand caressing your face moves your neck and over your shoulder before moving over to your bra strap, curling his fingers around it as he slides it off your shoulder.

"Let's get this off, hm? It'll be a lot more fun if I'm not looking at a bra the entire time," Tony says with a wink after pulling away from the kiss. You feel the warmth spreading over your cheeks at his words. His eyes are immediately pulled to the blush on your cheeks, and he doesn't hesitate to pepper both of them with a generous amount of kisses, making you giggle.

"Stop it! You're tickling me with your facial hair!" you protest, but instead of having mercy, he places kisses all over your face, making you squirm under him while you laugh at his ministrations. You're definitely enjoying yourself right now, and being on a mission with Tony during your anniversary only made things even better.

When Tony finally decides to have mercy, he places one last kiss on your mouth that leaves you wanting more, and you follow his mouth when he pulls away.

"Not fair," you pout, and Tony chuckles at your words, shaking his head.

"You want to know what's not fair, Babygirl? The fact that you're still wearing this bra, even though I distinctly remember wanting to get it off," he says, his eyes narrowing at the offending fabric. He shifts so that he's sitting on his knees while straddling your thighs, and he quickly unhooks your bra at the front.

The moment your nipples are exposed to the air, they perk up, and Tony moves down to wrap his lips around one of them, suckling softly as he listens to the soft moan tumbling from your lips. He uses his fingers to give attention to the other, and your hands tightly hold onto his hair as he plays with your sensitive buds.

The constant stimulation has your hips rutting up to seek friction, but every effort is fruitless, as Tony is situated in such a way that he can give you all the pleasure he wants to give you. After a few more minutes of this torturous pleasure, he switches, giving your other nipple the same care and attention as the first one.

He's taking his time to give you the most immense pleasure you've ever felt by someone playing with your nipples. You moan loudly as he carefully bites down on one of them, and your panties are practically ruined from your arousal. At the same time, you pull hair on his hair, and Tony groans against the plush flesh of your breasts, which sends shivers down your spine.

Once he's finally satisfied with the way your nipples look - red and puffy from all the time he spent playing with them - Tony moves down to the button of your pants to pull these down as well, but he ultimately decides to leave your underwear on. He wants to have a little playtime with that first.

"My God, I can smell how turned on you are, Babygirl, and it makes me so hard for you," he whispers as he noses your soaked panties, taking a whiff before letting his tongue glide over the fabric. Your back arches as the feeling of the fabric combined with his skilled tongue has you feeling everything as your sheets are fisted in the sheets to ground yourself.

"Such a sweet, tight, and perfect pussy," Tony whispers as his fingers slide the panties to the side, exposing your dripping and puffy folds, which he spreads to have a look at your fluttering entrance. It clenches around nothing as he blows on it, and you bite on your lip to supress the moan that wants to escape.

Tony looks up at you through his lashes at the sound of your muffled moan. If there's one thing he's always insistent about, it's that he wants to hear you because there's nothing more beautiful than the sound of you falling apart like that because of him. His brow is raised as you look down at him, wondering why he stopped.

"I want to hear you, Babygirl. I want to hear you fall apart on my fingers, my tongue, and my cock," Tony tells you in a stern voice, and you nod in response. With a content smile, he returns to his earlier position, this time latching onto your sensitive clit, making you moan loudly.

He smiles against your pussy as his tongue takes turns to pleasure your clit and your entrance, building your orgasm up quickly. Your chest rises and falls quickly, the pleasure quickly building to an almost blinding high when he surprises you with two of his thick, strong fingers as well. With a loud exclaim of his name, you cum on his tongue and fingers, and he works you through it carefully.

"That's it, Babygirl, let go for me! Good girl, you're a perfect girl for Daddy like this," he says between your trembling thighs, his thumb still working your clit as he laps up every last drop of your arousal. He hums in appreciation at the taste of it; his eyes closed as it coats his tongue again.

"Thank you, Daddy," you say in a breathy voice when you've come down from your high. It didn't take much for you to cum after Tony's teasing and the nipple play, but it was most definitely worth every second of anticipation. He knows your body better than you know your own, and he can play it as if it's an instrument that he took years to master.

"You're more than welcome, Babygirl, but I'm not done with you yet," he tells you between the kisses he places in a trail over your stomach and through the valley of your breasts. You sigh contently as he noses along your jaw, his facial hair feeling prickly yet lovely against the soft skin of your neck.

"I love you," you whisper as he's hovering over you, his cock achingly hard between his legs from the anticipation. He's been ignoring it for a long time, but it's finally time for him to have his fill now, too, and he's getting impatient.

"I love you too, Babygirl, so much," Tony practically purrs before capturing your lips in a heated kiss that catches you off-guard, but you quickly catch up as you pull him closer, and his cock is now resting on your belly. A small puddle of pre-cum gathers there, and you snake your hand between your bodies to give him a few strokes, getting him ready for what's about to come.

"Hmm, do that again, Babygirl," Tony says, his voice dropping almost an octave as you squeeze his tip softly, and he grunts into your ear as you do exactly as he asks. He ruts into your hand at the feeling of your small fist around his cock, your fingers barely touching as you're wrapped around him. He groans as he keeps fucking your hand, but before it's too late, he quickly pulls away, leaving you with a slight pout on your face.

"Don't worry, sweet girl, there's plenty of time to do that later, but I can't wait any longer to be buried in your tight, pink pussy." Your heart races as his words sink in, and you involuntarily clench around nothing but air, your pussy eager to be filled by your boyfriend's thick cock, splitting you open just the way you like it.

A few seconds later, Tony lines up with your entrance, a loud moan tumbling from your puffy lips as the tip breaches your entrance. Your hands are fisted in the sheets as you allow him to fill you up completely, short strokes ensuring he doesn't hurt you in the process. Grunts fall from his lips as he works his shaft into your squeezing, tight pussy.

"That's it, take my cock, such a good girl for Daddy." You will never get used to the feeling of Tony sliding, but you welcome it nevertheless. From the moment you two stopped using condoms, and you started birth control, your sex life has changed completely. Where you were always ready for each other before, you have become insatiable after that.

The second his cock hits your sweet spot, you arch your back into him, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him even closer. His face is nuzzled into your neck as a comfortable silence has fallen over you both. Your fingers trail abstract figures on his shoulders and back as you enjoy each other's feelings. All you have to think about is each other and your love.

Once Tony cannot take it any longer to stay still, he starts with slow, shallow thrusts that have you whimpering softly and a smile tugging at Tony's mouth.

"So good, Babygirl, you feel so good around my cock, I can't wait to fill you with my cum and watch it leak out of you when I'm done. God, my balls are so full for you," he whispers in your ear, his hips thrusting into your welcoming pussy faster and faster with each stroke. The sound of your combined moans and skin slapping against your skin is like the chorus of your love, and you never want this song to end.

"I'm close, Babygirl, 'm gonna fill you up," he groans, and you're so far gone you cannot even form coherent sentences anymore. Your moans are becoming louder, and your nails are now digging into his back instead of tracing lazy figures, and red welts are appearing where your nails are raking down his broad, muscled back.

As his high is quickly approaching, Tony moves his face from your neck in a way that has your foreheads touching, making this moment even more intimate than it already was. The brown of his eyes has been completely replaced by his dilated pupils, lust being visible in them.

"Cum with me, Babygirl, please," he begs, and you nod as your bodies move together perfectly, your highs both building rapidly. The second Tony's hand moves between your bodies and reaches your clit, and you're squeezing him like a vice, your legs trembling as you cum for him, shortly followed by Tony.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Squeezing me perfectly, Jesus! Can't wait to fuck you so full of my cum that it has no way to go but inside you, get you nice and round with my babies," Tony grunts through his orgasm, the long, slow strokes replaced by short and quick ones as he spills every last drop of him inside you, the warmth filling you up completely.

Tony takes his time to ride out both your orgasms, but as soon as you're both too sensitive, he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty yet satisfied after everything that happened. With a smirk, he keeps hovering over you, your faces mere centimeters apart. You reach up to kiss his lips softly, making your heart flutter at the feeling.

"I love you so much, Babygirl," Tony whispers before placing one more peck on your lips and taking his place beside you. As you curl onto his side, you hook your leg over him, and your arm lies on his stomach, your hand tracing circles over his arc reactor. You two stay in the comfortable silence for a few minutes before getting up for a much-needed bath.

"You can stay in bed, Babygirl. I'll run a bath for us both and get some of your favorite fruits to eat as we're relaxing," he tells you, and you nod at his words. The second he slips out of the bath, you miss him and his warmth, but that is quickly forgotten when he's ready for you to get into the tub's warm water.

"There you go, such a good girl," Tony says as you sit in the bath, a blush creeping over your cheeks. His praise will always make you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. Your boyfriend quickly joins you in the bath before pulling you onto his lap, his fingers massaging your sore muscles as you nibble on the sweet fruit he brought up in a bowl.

"Happy anniversary, Daddy," you tell him right before popping a piece of the fruit in his mouth, and he smiles contently as he chews it.

"Happy anniversary, Babygirl. I hope there will be many more just like this one," he says, sealing his promise with a soft and loving kiss.

It's been about eight weeks since you and Tony celebrated your anniversary on the mission, but now you're lying in bed with a cold compress on your head and your trashcan nearby in case another wave of nausea threatens to come back. You were supposed to be training with Natasha, but you had to cancel due to how you're feeling.

Instead of being in the training room with you, Natasha sits on your bed to keep you company, talking your ear off about her crush on Bruce. While you're usually all ears about it, you can now only think about one thing: the birth control pill you forgot all those weeks ago.

"I think I might be pregnant," you croak out when Natasha is waiting for an answer to a question you didn't catch.

"You're-"

"Pregnant, yes. Or so I think," you tell her with a groan as you slide the compress onto your eyes to shield them from the light in the hopes that you're saved from your next wave of nausea, but to no avail. While Nat usually chats to her heart's content, she's silent as the news sinks in.

"It's Tony's, isn't it?" she outright asks, and you sit up too quickly, which is a bad idea, as you grab the trashcan once more.

"H-how did you-" is all you can say, but she just gives you a reassuring smile.

"I'm not blind, Detka; you and Tony have been hanging out more and more together, and believe it or not, you're not as subtle as you both think you are. While I doubt any of the others would pick up on it, I have had my suspicions for quite a while," Natasha tells you, and you nod.

"We've been together for a little over a year and a half; we started dating after the mission that almost cost me my life," you tell her with a smile. He makes you truly happy, but the thought of being pregnant also scares you.

"On the one hand, I'm hoping it's true, that I am indeed pregnant, but on the other hand, I'm not sure what to feel if it's true. We never even talked about having kids, and even though I'm more than ready to take the next step, I don't know about him! What if he leaves me and doesn't want the baby? Do I take care of it by myself or put it up for adoption?" The words are all coming out in a long stream as tears gather in the corners of your eyes.

"Why don't we start by calming down and taking a test before jumping to conclusions? I understand it's scary, but before we take a test, there's nothing to worry about, okay?" she tells you, and you nod. This is how you find yourself sitting on your bed, staring at a timer after taking a test.

The moment it goes off, you turn the test over, and it shows a clear positive. You're carrying Tony's baby, and mixed feelings are swirling through your body. Happiness and anxiety are at the top.

"I'm having a baby," you whisper as you show her the test. Without saying a word, she pulls you into a hug, and you let your emotions go for a moment. Sobs are tearing through your body, and she's there to comfort you through it all. Natasha has been there for you through everything since you became an Avenger, and this won't be any different.

"I'm so happy for you, Detka," Natasha says as she lets her tears fall. During her time in the red room, the ability to carry children has been brutally taken away from her, but that doesn't mean she won't be there for you. She will live the pregnancy vicariously through you, and you're more than happy to share it with her.

"You'll be a great Mom, Detka. They're lucky to have you as a Mom," Nat whispers, and you nod in her hold. When you've both come down from the initial shock and emotions, you stare at the test some more, and the worry immediately makes way for happiness. You're going to be a Mom, and you can't wait to meet the baby growing inside you.

Eventually, Natasha has to leave for an appointment, and you go to the kitchen, though your bounds of nausea are most prevalent in the morning. As you stand by the counter, you hear Tony's footsteps come into the kitchen when, and you close your eyes, gripping your glass as he comes to stand beside you.

"Can we talk for a moment? I have barely seen you for these past two weeks, and I'm worried about you," Tony asks. The worry in his voice is evident, and you know you don't have a choice other than to talk to him. With a soft sigh, you nod and follow him to his office, the closest private space where it's normal for the two of you to talk.

Here goes nothing, you tell yourself as you close the door behind you, the pregnancy test still in your back pocket as you step into the ample space. Tony's about to discover your recklessness, and you're 99% sure you will be single after this conversation. However, nothing could be further from the truth.

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faggot-vampire-dies-epicly · 2 months

Text

Tear me to pieces

Summary: Vanessa was annoyed. Her dad had sent her to check on you at the old Freddy's location on the outskirts of town. She expected the eerie atmosphere and dusty hallways, but she didn’t expect the way you made her feel. | Words: 6,031K

Warnings: Semi-graphic depictions of corpses. Death, murder, missing people, references of child death/murder. Parental abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, manipulation. Cursing. A slight sexual joke. Heavy angst, hurt/almost no comfort. William is an asshole on this one, you guys. Fem!Reader.

A/N: Whew, this took so long! But I'm kind of proud on how this turned out, so I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I went out of my way to make William as shitty as possible because I love making Vanessa suffer, and well, there's also sort of a plot twist? It's probably pretty obvious but I tried to keep it in the dark a little :). Title is from Lovely by Billie Eilish & Khalid/Inspired by the entire album of Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, by My Chemical Romance.

Main Materlist | Vanessa Masterlist | AO3

She had arrived at least fifteen minutes ago, but her headache from her father’s berating had not yet subsided. She really wasn’t in the mood to make any effort. In spite of William’s scolding, she wanted just to fulfill her father’s orders in the most half-assed-and-bare-minimum-effort way possible.

Vanessa sighed, staring at the restaurant’s sign. The letters of the neon sign glowed dimly over the parking lot.

She cursed under her breath and got out of the car. She opened the trunk and took out the bag where she kept his fake police uniform. Her father had been trying to convince her for months to enroll into the police force, but she had refused over and over again. Vanessa knew he just wanted her to cover for him, and she refused to be more involved in his crimes than she already was.

She put the uniform over her normal civil clothes, grabbed the fake police badge and the ID and stepped out of the car.

Vanessa took a deep breath and finally walked to the entrance.

Doing these checkups was never easy for her. She got to meet pretty mundane people who were practically doomed from the start. From middle aged parents that just needed the job to survive with their kids to college students and teenagers that were fresh out of high school and just wanted to make some money to buy a car or go out with their friends.

They never lasted. Never.

Unfair was an understatement.

At least her father didn’t have to do with the disappearance of the majority. Most of them she would find inside Freddy. It wasn’t pretty. It didn’t get any easier, but at least she knew her father wasn’t the real cause in the end. Or that’s how she tried to convince herself.

She rang the bell, waiting for the guard of this month (or perhaps of this week only) to come out.

She looked back at the parking lot. It was empty except for her car, parked on the darkest corner she could find. The door opened and she snapped her head back to the entrance.

And she saw you, looking confused.

“Is there anything I can help you with, officer?”

She stared at you for a moment. “Another college kid?” she thought wryly, “she’s not even going to last the full week”.

Vanessa forced a smile, suddenly becoming too aware of the way your gaze wouldn’t leave her face.

“Hi,” she said in a slightly strangled voice. You frowned.

She blushed slightly and cleared her throat. “Sorry. I’m Officer Shelly. Vanessa Shelly,” she laughed awkwardly.

Vanessa extended her hand out, hoping you would understand the gesture and shook it. You complied. It was gentle, but firm.

It made her skin tingle.

Vanessa swallowed, trying to shake the feeling away.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious,” she began. “I just wanted to check on you. When there’s a new night guard in this place, word spreads fast.”

You made a confused face, but you nodded. She smiled at you, “can I come in?”

“Um,” you hesitated, then sighed. “Yeah, sure,” you said while stepping aside. She gave you a polite smile and she went into the restaurant.

Once inside, she looked around. It looked the same every time, but that didn’t make it any less dreadful.

The place used to be crammed with kids and their families. There were always birthday celebrations, kindergarten graduation parties, some people just going for a quick bite after a long day. Hell, sometimes even some high school students would show up after homecoming.

She remembered it well. The smell of pizza, the laughter of children, the animatronics singing and dancing.

And then, her father inside the suit. The police sirens, mothers crying, fathers yelling.

A chill runned down her spine, snapping her out of the memories. You eyed her curiously at the sudden reaction, but said nothing.

Vanessa cleared her throat again, “how long have you been working here?”

You licked your lips, an action Vanessa got too caught on. “A couple of days only.”

She hummed, nodding. “Has anything weird happened?” You swallowed, “weird how?”

Vanessa shrugged. “Like someone trying to break in,” she said casually, glancing around. “Or,” she trailed off, “equipment malfunctioning, like the monitors, or the cameras, or…”

She turned to face you. “Maybe the animatronics getting a bit quirky.” She tried to be as nonchalant as possible while mentioning the animatronics.

You seemed to tense up slightly, opening your mouth to answer but then snapping it shut again.

“No,” you said finally, with a slightly higher pitch than usual. “Nope. Nothing like that has happened, ma’am.”

Vanessa grimaced at the formal way you addressed her. “Please,” she forced some humor into her voice, “don’t call me that.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, “I’m sorry Officer–”

She raised her hand, signaling for you to stop talking. “Just,” she sighed, “just call me Vanessa.”

You breathed out softly. “Sorry, Vanessa.”

The way you said her name had her avoiding your gaze nervously. “God, Vanessa, get a grip,” she thought.

“It’s fine,” she dismissed quickly.

You two stood there in an awkward silence for a few moments. She couldn’t bear it.

“So, what made you decide to work at Freddy’s?” Vanessa internally scolded herself for asking something so stupid and personal.

“Oh,” you said, shrugging. “I just wanted to make some money before the school year starts.”

Vanessa nodded slowly, “Highschool?”

You shook your head. “College, actually.”

Her eyes widened, you looked younger than you were then.

“That’s,” she blinked a few times, “nice.”

You nodded awkwardly, and she smiled. “What’s your major?”

“English literature.”

“That sounds interesting,” she said thoughtfully.

“You know, I never considered going to college,” Vanessa murmured, thinking how her father would reduce her to dust if she even dared to suggest the idea.

“Is that why you’re a cop?” You said bluntly. You quickly realized how that sounded and attempted to take it back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Vanessa stared at you blankly for a moment before bursting out laughing.

You smiled, confused.

“Don’t worry. It is probably why I am a cop, yeah,” she said, smiling, trying to regain her composure.

Not one of the previous had charmed her enough to even smile, and now you were making her laugh.

She obviously couldn’t tell you that she wasn’t actually a cop. She sighed, gazing at the clock that hung on the wall. “Well, I better get going, I still have to patrol a couple of blocks,” she lied.

You nodded, understanding, and then escorted her to the door.

“I may come back another night to see how you’re doing, alright?”

“Sure.”

Vanessa nodded, but before you closed the door, she spoke again. “You never told me your name.”

You smiled, “Y/N.”

“Y/N,” she echoed, then nodded. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you too, Vanessa.”

And with that she made her way back to her car, her heart pounding inside her chest.

She returned four days later by her father’s order.

Same routine. Choose the darkest spot in the parking lot, put the fake uniform on top of her normal clothes, grab her fake badge and fake ID and put on her bravest face.

It was the same procedure she had done for years. Except, of course, that this time it was pouring, and she hadn’t brought a rain coat with her.

She frantically rang the bell, feeling the rain wet her clothes and soak her to the bone.

You opened the door, letting her through. She mumbled a thank you as she rushed inside.

“God, you’re soaked,” you murmured. She snapped her head towards you, almost straining her neck, and you blushed at how that sounded. “I, I meant–”

Vanessa sighed, looking at her uniform, “I know what you meant,” she grumbled.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, “I think there’s a towel in the office. Come with me.”

She followed you to the office while shivering. You offered your chair for her to sit and she gladly accepted it.

She watched you search every corner of your office for a towel, but the only thing you could find was a handkerchief.

“Sorry, this is all I have,” you scratched the back of your neck as you offered the piece of cloth. She took with trembling fingers, and immediately dried her face.

“What brings you here again?” You asked, sitting on your desk. She sighed, untying her hair to try and dry it a bit with the handkerchief.

“I just want to see how you are doing, honestly,” she said, making a face. “I didn’t read the weather forecast, as you can see.”

You chuckled a bit, “you’re going to be fine.”

A beat passed and you spoke up again, “actually, I have coffee, would you like some?”

She groaned softly. “Oh my God. Yes, please.”

You chuckled again, taking out a thermos from your backpack and pouring some in the mug sitting on the desk.

She took the coffee hastily and took a sip, humming in contentment. “I think you’re the first guard to bring coffee to the job,” she murmured. You raised your eyebrows.

“Okay, first of all, that’s ridiculous. The job is being a night guard, I can’t be the only one,” you rolled your eyes, and she smiled into the mug. “And second of all,” you looked into her eyes, “you met the other guards?”

Vanessa choked on the hot liquid, and coughed. She had said too much.

“Um,” she said, trying to recover. “Well, I met some of them,” she laughed awkwardly, avoiding your eyes. You hummed, seemingly satisfied with the answer.

“And how were they like?”

Vanessa sighed, as flashbacks flooded her mind.

Sometimes she would find their bodies still sitting on the chair, their head laid down on the desk. She would consider herself lucky when she found them like that. Usually they had been just stabbed on the chest, or the stomach. It was probably Foxy, or that’s what she liked to think.

Other times she would find them in the supply closet. Dismembered, split in a half, headless, or smashed. She would have to hide the bodies and additionally clean the whole room.

The animatronics were relentless, especially, she had come to realize, if the person looked like her father, even if it was just the minimum.

She didn’t blame them of course. They had been trapped in there for at least two decades, and even if they had forgotten what happened, and who did them wrong, they still subconsciously searched for vengeance.

“Vanessa?”

She snapped out of her thoughts, “yes?”

“What were the other night guards like? I mean,” you shifted on the desk, leaning in. “I mean, I’ve heard that most of them went missing. But that can’t be true, can’t it? That’s too many people to be a coincidence.”

She swallowed, looking at the remaining sip of coffee on the mug.

Vanessa cleared her throat in an effort to regain her composure. “Well, I’m sure most of them simply quit.”

“You don’t seem so sure,” you said, arching an eyebrow. She tried to brush it off by chuckling.

“I mean,” she sighed, “it would be too many people to be a coincidence, like you said. People don’t just… disappear.”

You frowned. The tone in which she had said it made your curiosity rise.

Just as you were about to ask her to explain what she meant, she drank the last of the coffee and handed you the mug.

“Well, thanks for the coffee,” she looked down at her hands, where she was holding the handkerchief. “And for the…” she waved the piece of cloth, “this.”

You smiled and her heart sped up. “Sure thing."

It had become a routine. She came back to supposedly check on you, but in reality she just wanted to see you. To hear you.

She ached to look at you as you ranted to her about a boring book you had been reading lately.

She brought you dinner sometimes, which you always took with a smile, and a thank you in a soft voice, which made her heart leap into her chest.

Vanessa wasn't what people would call experienced in love, much less in dating, or relationships, but she knew that what you made her feel was not only attraction, but also affection.

Affection had always eluded Vanessa. First from her father, given his nature, and then from her mother, who vanished from the face of the Earth when Vanessa was a child.

But you were different. You seemed to exhale affection through your pores. It was so natural for you, whether with her or with everything else, that she could feel devotion slowly consuming her.

Her father had started to suspect that something was up. He had always controlled her outings, only letting her out at night to fulfill her duties as his spy, but she was checking on the guard a little too much for his liking.

He had even cornered her, grabbing her arm tightly and pressing her against the wall. “I’m warning you, Vanessa,” he said. “If I find out that you are crossing the line between my orders and your personal matters, it’s not going to end well for either of you. Especially not for her.”

She had suppressed a shiver as William let go of her arm.

Vanessa knew it was risky, but she didn’t want to stop. In fact, she couldn’t. It’s like she had become addicted to you.

Addicted to your smile, your humor, your voice.

She hadn’t even touched you yet, aside from the handshake on the first night she met you, and the occasional brush of hands when she handed you some food, or when you gave her a mug filled with coffee.

She loved to hear you rant about the books you read, even if she thought that reading was boring, especially the books you always chose to read.

“I’m telling you,” you said, “this has to have some truth to it!” You exclaimed, holding the book up, whose cover read “The Turn of the Screw.”

“What if ghosts do exist?” You continued. She rolled her eyes, slightly unamused by your interest in the supernatural.

She knew ghosts were real. The whole place was a proof of it. All the deaths, and the attacks, it was obvious what had provoked them, but she remained silent as you kept speaking.

“I mean,” you continued, “you know energy can’t be destroyed, right? And humans are energy. So what really happens to our energy when we die?”

You seemed fascinated by the concept of ghosts now. All thanks to that stupid book.

“Y/N, you can’t be serious,” Vanessa scoffed.

You rolled your eyes, “you just don’t get it.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Yeah, that’s probably it.”

You grinned, “I could lend you the book if you want.” She chuckled.

“That won’t be necessary, believe me. I know enough thanks to what you have told me,” she smiled.

“Well, that sounds like you don’t like reading.”

She laughed, “Not all of us can be workbooks like you, you know?”

Your grin widened. “You just don’t appreciate the beauty of reading and analyzing.”

Vanessa hummed, and smirked, “that must be why I became a cop.” You groaned. “God, no. I thought you had forgotten about that.” She smiled.

“I never forget the things you tell me,” she said softly.

You smiled softly, blushing slightly while you looked down at your book. On the page you were left on you put the handkerchief, which you were now using as a separator, and closed the book.

“You know,” you spoke softly. “I know that might have sounded pretty mean. But I said it as a compliment.”

She met your gaze, “how so?”

You licked your lips. “Well, I could never be a cop. To be a cop you need to be brave, smart and caring. Reading is something I’ve always loved, that’s why I’m majoring in english literature, but you,” you paused. “You became a police officer to help people, something that has never crossed my mind.”

Vanessa swallowed, knowing that she wasn’t a real cop, and that she wasn’t pretending to help anyone but herself and her father.

“Your decision to pursue a career that allows you to help others doesn't compare to my futile decision to study literature because I like to read and be annoying.” You smiled at her again. “I could never be like you, and I admire you, honestly.”

She felt a little overcome with emotion, and completely filled with guilt. She swallowed her feelings down.

“Thank you. For your kind words.”

You grinned, “as long as I’m alive you’ll get to hear more kind words coming from me.”

One night, when Vanessa descended the staircase, carrying the bag with her fake belongings, William was waiting for her at the foot of the steps, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

He wore that look he always had when he was planning something, like a predator stalking its prey.

“Vanessa,” he began, his voice cold like ice, “where are you going?”

She swallowed, lifting the bag for her father to see, hoping he would deduce her intentions, but he merely arched an eyebrow. “I’m going to Freddy’s”, Vanessa said in a small voice, “to check on the night guard.”

She brushed past him, walking towards the garage.

“You’ve been checking on her an awful lot lately, hm?”

William trailed behind her, his pace slowly but his steps wide.

Vanessa didn’t turn to look at him. She opened the car’s trunk, throwing the bag inside, and just hummed in acknowledgement to her dad’s words.

“Is there a reason why?” William insisted.

Vanessa sighed. “No, dad. I just want to keep an eye on her,” she closed the trunk with more force than she intended to. “I’m just doing as you told me. I’m just doing what you entrusted me to do.”

He hummed, sounding more like the typical cartoon villain than an actual man.

“Remember what I told you, Vanessa.”

Vanessa didn’t answer, she just opened the driver’s side door, and got into the car.

Just as she was adjusting the mirror by her window, William grabbed her wrist tightly, and squeezed even tighter.

Vanessa groaned.

“I’m serious, Vanessa,” he leaned closer to her through the window, towering over his daughter. Vanessa felt herself shrinking on her seat.

"If I catch you spilling your guts to that filthy little friend of yours, I'll skin her alive, and you, dear daughter, I'll lock you up in the basement with the prototypes of animatronics I've been working on.”

Vanessa’s breath got caught in her throat. “Dad–” she tried to explain, but he just kept talking, squeezing her wrist harder.

“And I assure you, little girl,” William practically sneered, “this time those animatronics will serve their purpose if you dare come near them."

Finally, he let go of her wrist, or rather, he flung it away from him, and Vanessa's hand hit the mirror.

William walked away, slamming the door behind him as he left the room.

Vanessa sat there, still trembling, holding onto her hand, which hurt pretty bad. But she didn’t know what was worse, if the physical pain, the threats against you, or the threats against her.

When she had finally calmed down enough, she turned on the engine, and drove away.

Away from her father, and looking for you.

Your smile had disappeared, and turned instead into a frown as soon as you saw the state she was in.

A nervous mess, with tense shoulders, and a bruise starting to form on her wrist. Wide, alert eyes met yours instead of the usual bright eyes that typically greeted you.

You closed the door behind her, the atmosphere was so tense that it could have been cut with a knife.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she sighed, leaning against one of the tables that were used for dinning back in the day.

You crossed the distance between you and her in two seconds, and delicately took her injured wrist.

“Then what is this?”

Vanessa’s pulse quickened. You were touching her.

Your skin felt so soft, so warm, and inviting. She suppressed a shiver as she swallowed dryly and looked away.

“That’s just,” she gestured with her other hand, “an occupational hazard.” “I've never seen you have one of these before," you murmured. “Does it hurt?” You asked as you poked the bruise lightly. Vanessa hissed.

“Shit–” you let go of her hand as if it burned you. “I’m so sorry–”

“It’s fine,” she cut you off. “I’m fine, really.” She ran a hand through her carefully arranged ponytailed hair. “That just… happens sometimes. Sometimes things just happen to you, and you can’t explain why.” She swallowed, “you never know if you did something to cause them, or if that is just how life works.” You opened your mouth to say something, but then closed it again.

“Come with me,” you said finally, walking towards your office.

She hesitated for a moment, but ultimately followed you.

Once inside, you took your backpack and began to search inside. After a few moments, you pulled out a cold juice can wrapped in the handkerchief from last time.

“I brought this because I wanted to give it to you,” you said after you saw Vanessa’s look of confusion. “But I have books in my backpack, I don’t want them to get wet.”

You unwrapped the handkerchief, which was now cold. With a subtle gesture, you extended your hand towards her, indicating for her to bring her wrist closer.

She complied. You took her wrist, wrapping the cold cloth around it.

“There,” you said, “that’ll help with the swelling.”

She took a deep breath, touched by the gesture.

“Thank you,” Vanessa said, meeting your gaze as she smiled softly.

“Anytime,” you replied, offering the juice can to her. “Besides, it matches your uniform.”

Vanessa smiled, taking the can from your hand. Her fingers brushed against yours, which caused a tingle to go down her spine.

Your smile widened, your eyes traveling to her injured wrist. “I hope it helps,” you gestured towards the piece of cloth wrapped around her wrist.

Vanessa nodded, pulling the tab from the can, and resting her lips on the cold surface of the lid. “It already feels better,” she admitted with a soft voice.

“Good,” you replied. You both stood there in silence, and Vanessa couldn’t help but notice that providing her with some comfort made you look strangely content.

“Have you seen the animatronics perform?” She asked suddenly.

You huffed a laugh. “Uh, no. Not really.”

She took a sip from the juice, “would you like to?”

You met her gaze, holding it for a second, and then you nodded.

When Vanessa woke up the next day, she lay in bed, mulling over everything that had happened the night before.

You giving her your handkerchief to help with the swelling of her wrist, the juice can, the animatronics' performance, the dancing, the way you rested your forehead against hers as you laughed after tripping over your own feet.

It felt surreal, to say the least.

When she finally decided to descend the stairs to find something to eat, her father was in the dining room reading the newspaper.

Their eyes met, but due to the fight from the night before, neither of them said anything and shortly after, William disappeared from her sight.

She was relieved, of course. A day without William meant a day without problems. No arguments, no empty threats, and no deathly stares.

Vanessa decided to just stay in and relax. It was true that she was glad William wasn’t around, but she didn’t want to upset him further by going out without permission. With her going out almost every night, deliberately disobeying him and lying to his face. She didn’t want to think about what could happen if he found out.

Hours passed and Vanessa was growing worried. Had something happened to him?

It was true that whenever they were together, Vanessa felt like she had to walk on eggshells, always being on edge. But he was her dad after all, wasn't he? Her only family.

After a while of pacing out in front of the door, Vanessa sat down.

She started dozing off, and just when the clock was about to strike midnight, the door opened, with a very calm William stepping inside.

Vanessa immediately jumped from her seat, rushing to him.

William gave her an exasperated look, but smiled to her nonetheless.

He unceremoniously walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge, and Vanessa trailed behind him.

“Dad?”

William ignored her, taking the carton of milk out of the fridge, and setting it on the table. He then turned to the cupboard, taking out a mug, and lastly, took out powdered coffee from the kitchen cabinet.

“Dad,” Vanessa insisted. What was his deal now? Was he going to ignore her until his anger had dissipated?

He turned around, turning on the hot water, and filling his cup, which was now full of coffee powder. He hummed a tune, one Vanessa could recognize from the songs the animatronics used to play, she clenched her fists.

“Father,” her patience was running out, her voice was more commanding this time.

William continued on his task, now pouring the milk after having dissolved the coffee with water. Then he took the sugar jar and opened it.

She hated him. She hated him so much.

She hated his smugness, his incredibly enormous ego, the total dismissal of her feelings, the threats, the fights, the screaming, the hits –

Her fists clenched until her knuckles turned white. What was his problem? All Vanessa had ever done was to please him, and when she displeased him just once, he preferred to be away all day and ignore her afterward.

“Look at me!” she all but growled.

William audibly sighed, taking a sip out of his drink. He put the mug on the counter, and finally acknowledged Vanessa’s presence.

“Tell me,” he said in a monotone voice, “are you going to visit your little friend today?”

Vanessa swallowed. “No, I’m not.”

William raised his eyebrows. “Oh, really? That’s surprising.”

Vanessa opened her mouth to answer, but he interrupted her with a low chuckle. “I mean, you were so eager to see her last night, weren’t you?”

She inhaled, trying to relax and push her uncomfort down. “Yes,” she said between her teeth. “But since it upset you, I’m not going to go check on her for at least a couple of days.”

William hummed.

“Is that satisfying enough for you, father?”

“Bah,” with a dismissive gesture, he waved off her words, turning his head to the side with disdain.

“Playing the “father” card with me, like you’re a little kid,” he murmured to himself. “I know what you’re doing,” he turned to her, closing the distance between them.

Vanessa recoiled, panic etching her face.

She tried walking away from him until her back hit the wall, and William finally cornered her.

“You think you’re so smart, huh?” He smiled condescendingly at her. “You think you’re so tough, so… lucky. One day reality it’s going to hit you, and you’ll realize you’re not worth any of the trouble you’re causing.”

He raised his hand towards her face.

Vanessa’s breath quickened. She felt as if all of the air in the room suddenly vanished. Her chest felt tight, her throat was dry and her eyes burned with unshed tears.

William gently stroked her cheek before slowly sliding his hand downward. He rested his hand around Vanessa’s neck, not squeezing, just to hold her in place, like a silent warning.

His voice was soft and calm, but incredibly supercilious. “The day will come, Vanessa. Just wait and see.”

After a week of radio silence, Vanessa couldn't take it anymore and went to look for you at work.

Something had changed. She didn't know what exactly, but you weren't the same.

You would barely face her, let alone look at her. You would avoid her touch, you wouldn't accept her offerings of food.

You didn't offer her coffee anymore.

Vanessa couldn't help but wonder if it was something she had done.

Every time she tried to mention it, you brushed it off like it wasn’t important.

“I’m just tired, that’s all,” or sometimes it was “I just had a rough day, don’t worry about it.”

You were lying, it was painfully obvious, and both of you were aware of it.

But why? What had happened?

Vanessa couldn’t help but roll around in bed every night, thinking, analyzing.

Whatever it was, she was determined to find out.

There was something else, too.

Her father had also changed his behavior.

He stopped asking where she was going. He also spent most of his time in the basement, working on his projects.

Vanessa honestly didn't mind as much, she felt better with him being out of sight most of the time.

That night, when she went downstairs ready to check on you at Freddy's, he was in the living room, reading the newspaper.

“How's your little friend?” He asked, not lifting his gaze.

“She's fine,” Vanessa answered, maybe more coldly than she should've.

William chuckled, amused, for some reason.

“I've been thinking about placing an ad in the newspaper to look for another security guard.”

“Another?” Vanessa frowned. “Are you going to fire her?”

William lifted his gaze, “you sometimes worry me, Vanessa.”

Vanessa was taken aback by this, but her father didn't elaborate.

She sighed, making her way to the garage.

Vanessa heard her father say, “have fun,” as she left the room.

She was inside Freddy's in no time. You had developed the habit of leaving the door unlocked, Vanessa knew she probably had to scold you for that, but she honestly couldn't care less.

Vanessa headed to your office, but something stopped her.

Was that the smell of…?

No, she interrupted her train of thought. No, it can't be, it's impossible.

“Is it, though?” A voice inside her head said.

She swallowed, turning around and heading to the storage room.

With her heart beating madly inside, she entered the room.

An incredibly strong and nauseating smell hit her.

Vanessa recognized the smell easily.

Putrefaction.

Death.

And there were you. Or rather, what was left of you.

Her heart was beating so fast that she was subconsciously afraid that her blood pressure would drop and she would faint.

Slowly, painfully so, she approached your body.

At first glance, and also thanks to the stench, she could tell this had happened days ago, if not weeks.

How?

You talked with her not too long ago, barely a couple of days had passed.

How? Who?

Vanessa could no longer stand, and her knees gave way.

How? Who? Why?

All she could do was stare at your decomposed body, the dry wounds, the rotten blood, the pale skin.

It was like seeing the kids again. All over again.

Before she could When he realized it, big tears were sliding down his cheeks and falling to the ground.

This couldn't be happening. Not to you, at least.

It didn't make any sense, one day she had you dancing in her arms, and now you were lying dead on the ground.

Why?

Could she have prevented this?

She never even get to tell you how she felt. She never got to tell you that she liked you.

Vanessa trembled, unable to stop crying. Was this a divine punishment?

Did God see all her atrocities and decided to take action against her?

She tried to brush away the tears, being too harsh.

It hurt. Everything hurt. From her eyes, to her head, and her heart.

Her chest felt tight, she couldn't breathe. No amount of trying was going to compensate for it.

You were dead. But she had seen you, hadn't she?

And that's when she heard footsteps behind her.

Vanessa snapped her head back, and lo and behold. You were there.

Vanessa choked, trying to say something, anything.

“You're gone,” was the first thing that came out of her mouth, barely audible over her sobs.

You nodded, softly.

She raised her voice, “why didn't you say anything?”

You just stared at her for a moment. “I don't know.”

“You don't know?” Vanessa stood up on her wobbly legs.

“It wasn't supposed to be like this,” you say.

Vanessa looks at your face after what felt like eternity. So that was why you would recoil from her touch. That was why you would never look at her, you would never let her look at you. It was disturbingly obvious now.

Your eyes were basically drained of life, hollow, empty.

She would have realized something was amiss if you hadn't taken all those precautions.

The tears kept falling.

“I'm sorry,” Vanessa breathed out with a broken voice.

You managed a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. “Don't be. It wasn't your fault.”

She choked on her sobs, her cries getting louder.

“I don't understand,” she choked, “why are you still here?”

You (or rather, your ghost,) looked down, sighing. “I guess what they say it's true. You can't go if you have something pending.”

You approached her. "I guess I should tell you.”

Vanessa looked down at your corpse and then back at your ghost.

“Tell me.”

You sighed, smiling bittersweetly.

“Let me tell you something else first,” you began. “I still admire you for your decision to become a police officer. I know you think it's nothing. But not for me, because I know you'll help with the investigation. I know you'll report what happened here, and I'll finally get some peace.”

Vanessa swallowed. She wouldn't. She couldn't.

“Anyways, I…” you closed your eyes, and opened them again. “I'm ready to tell you.”

A beat passed.

“I like you, Vanessa.”

Numb. That's the only way she could describe it.

Her hands felt numb after dragging your body through the cold and burying it behind Freddy's, on the empty lot William had bought a few years ago.

Her heart was numb after your confession.

“I like you.”

It repeated over and over again inside her head, like a broken record.

I like you, I like you, I like you.

If only she could have said, “I like you too,” before your spectrum became nothing more than dust and memories.

If only she had said something before you were killed.

If only she had done anything at all.

She knew exactly who had done it. She couldn't pretend that she didn't see it anymore.

That night, coming home felt like a nightmare.

Vanessa had barged inside the basement, and screamed at him. At her father.

The one who had taken you away from her.

She screamed, and threw everything she could find at him. She cried, and cried, and cried.

And William remained impassive until he didn't.

Vanessa made the mistake of tearing William's work plans off the wall, and at that moment he finally saw red and revealed himself.

With an incredible amount of force, he grabbed Vanessa and pressed her against his desk.

“What do you think you're doing, you stupid creature? You think throwing a tantrum will bring her back? Do you forget who you are, and who I am?”

William basically spat the words out, Vanessa took a deep breath.

“Look at what you have become,” William narrowed his eyes as he said this.

With a trembling voice, Vanessa replied, “I am what you made me. I am your daughter.”

He growled, “you're unbearable. I want you out of my sight!”

William pushed her out of the basement, and locked himself inside.

A couple of days later, Vanessa was packing everything she owned, including the handkerchief you had given to her that one time, and leaving her dad's house. For good this time.

And a month after escaping her father's shadow, she was changing her last name from Afton to Shelly and enrolling in the police academy.

A/N: Well, that was a ride, wasn't it? Reblogs are appreciated.

#vanessa shelly #vanessa shelly x reader #fnaf #fnaf movie #elizabeth lail #william afton

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ficnation · 11 months

Text

“Your dad’s an asshole” Part 2 - Carl x Reader

Request: “Carl x son of negan. Where they meet when Negan goes to get supplies for the first time from Alexandria and Negan’s son keeps flirting with Carl and Carl gets flustered and acts like he hates it, because y’know son of NEGAN, but eventually they go on a sort of date and kiss? Just fluff with a lil angst? Whatever works for you xoxo”

requested by @thatcucumberwhore

Word count: 2,2k+

Pairing: Carl Grimes x Male! Reader

Warnings: usual twd themes (e.g gore, cursing)

A/n: Your relationship with Carl develops but you still have a long way to go. Also I do plan on writing some kind of an epilogue to this lil series eventually but it’s gonna take a while. Hope you enjoy it!

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The only times you could see Carl was when you snuck out in the middle of the night or when your father wasn’t around. You always met halfway in the woods, not far from the main road that led from the Sanctuary to Alexandria. It wasn’t exactly safe for either of you, but if it was the only way you could see each other, it was a risk you were willing to take.

It was surprising how similar you were despite your different personalities. You’ve both lost your mothers at the start of the apocalypse, and your dads changed drastically because of that. You had to grow up far too quickly, drowning in loneliness with no one your age to talk to. Those things made you fit like two puzzle pieces—meant to be.

The forest hummed around you when you strode off the main road and into the surrounding trees, all but invisible from the outside world. You were careful not to step on any of the fallen twigs, afraid of making too much noise.

The sky above was dark and cloudless, yet you could only see a few streaks of light coming from the stars here and there. The crowns of the trees were far too thick to let anything more shine through them.

This part of the woods was usually peaceful—as peaceful as it could be in a world infested with the undead. But that didn’t mean you could feel safe or let your guard down. Even if there was no visible sign of threat, you had to keep your eyes and ears open.

You sat down under one of the many trees, mindlessly playing with a stray twig. You waited and waited, but time didn’t seem to pass fast enough while you waited for Carl to show up.

The darker the sky got, the more you started to worry.

But the moment you heard the familiar sound of careful footsteps, your eyes roamed around wildly. You couldn’t help the cheerful smile that spread across your face when you recognized the silhouette in front of you.

“Hey…” you greeted him, waving. Carl returned the gesture as he walked over to sit beside you, taking his spot under the tree.

His light brown hair seemed to glow under the dim moonlight, and his eye sparkled with happiness that only your presence could bring out of him. His cheeks were pink from the cold wind, and the thin material of his plaid shirt did nothing to warm him up.

Carl smiled at you and leaned back against the trunk of the tree, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s almost midnight,” he stated, gazing at the starry sky.

It was indeed getting darker and darker every second. Your breath hitched slightly as you watched the clouds move in front of the moon.

“You’re lucky I didn’t wake up Judith when I fell on my ass jumping out of the window.”

You grinned at his joke before looking down at your feet. “Yeah…” you trailed off.

It had been so long since you’d seen one another with the constant war between your communities, yet there you were, alone together at midnight, gazing up at the moon.

It felt so strange and different to be with him like this. It made you feel more alive and more relaxed than you ever had before. No stress or anger could ruin it because you both knew where you stood; no matter the hatred between your people, you agreed you wouldn’t let it influence your friendship.

Carl stared up at the sky, lost in thought, as he watched a shooting star pass by. You looked up, too, following the path of the bright star.

“That’s nothing in comparison to the way you shine,” you stated, a confident smirk already growing on your face.

You knew very well what would follow your words. The blush on Carl’s face was barely visible in the darkness, but the way he nudged your arm with his elbow assured you it was definitely there.

“Shut up,” he chuckled, and for some reason, it was the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

“Yeah? Or what? You’re gonna kiss me?” The world around you froze the moment those words left your mouth. Damn, you hated yourself for speaking before thinking.

The silence that suddenly fell between the two of you was more than awkward. And you had no idea how to take those words back because you did want him to kiss you. You’ve been thinking for a while now how it would feel to brush your lips against his. Would they feel rough or soft against yours? Would Carl let you tangle your fingers in his soft hair?

You tried not to think about it, to repress those thoughts and keep them far away from your mind. But they always came back when you expected it the least. Even when you were just eating breakfast, the thought of kissing Carl and really being with him randomly popped up in your head.

“I’m sorry, it was just a joke. I shouldn’t have said that.” You chickened out.

Carl didn’t say anything, sitting beside you, deep in thought. You couldn’t read his face or his body language. He didn’t seem tense to you, but as far as you knew, it could just be your brain trying to let you keep some shred of hope.

“Are you okay?”

“Hm? Yeah, why?” Carl finally looked at you, waking up from his frozen state with a shake of his head.

You gave him a look, clearly not believing his words.

He sighed and shrugged. “I’ve missed you. More than I thought I would.” His voice dropped into a soft whisper. “When you leave I feel like there’s something missing.”

Carl’s eye met yours in the darkness. His words and the way he looked at you made your breath hitch. He must’ve noticed that because seconds after you exhaled, his lips were on yours, leaving a soft peck. When your eyes fluttered in confusion, it was his time to chicken out and pull away.

“Well, shit. Now, I should probably be sorry.”

You grinned at him, your hand landing in his hair, pulling him back into the kiss. Carl chuckled into your lips, responding with just as much confidence. As your lips touched, time stopped, and everything around you faded away; nothing else mattered at that moment except for each other. As your bodies pressed together, the tension you’ve been building up suddenly released in an electrifying rush.

The forest was still and quiet early in the morning before the light even touched the horizon. The riverbank nearby made soft noises, its rushing waters calming in their constant flow. The sun had not yet greeted the world, and the dew that had settled the night before was just beginning to vanish in the early morning’s heat.

You chased Carl through the clearing, laughing quietly, playing a game of tag while you escorted him halfway home.

The dew from the grass had saturated your jeans, the moisture seeping into the fabric effortlessly. Your pants were almost soaked through from the ankles all the way up to your knees. A small puddle of water even seeped into one of your sneakers, your foot squelching with every step you took.

Despite that, you were fast on your feet, and just when you were about to catch the back of Carl’s shirt in your grasp, the groans of undead filled the air. Their sounds alone turned the peaceful early morning eerie. Their groans seemed to come from all directions, the sound somehow omnipresent, as if it came from within and without, surrounding you. You could feel your hair stand on end as the happiness evaporated from your veins.

Your companion stopped so abruptly in his tracks that you couldn’t stop in time and ran headfirst into him, the impact causing you to release an involuntary grunt.

“Fuck,” you grumbled, your hand instantly grabbing Carl’s arm in a tight, protective grip.

You looked into the distance to the dirt road leading to Alexandria. A herd of walkers moved forward in the direction of Carl’s community, one of the biggest ones you’ve encountered in your life. Your breath hitched in your throat, your hand shaking. They marched in a line so long you didn’t see the end of it.

“We gotta get out of here,” you whispered right into his ear, pulling his arm in the opposite direction. You had to get as far as possible from the herd.

“No, I need to get home,” Carl sneered, stubbornly planting his feet on the ground beneath. He didn’t even give you so much as a glance.

“Not fucking happening. Let’s go. You’re not coming anywhere near them.” Your voice was firm; it wasn’t a request.

The young Grimes stood silently for a minute, observing the herd in the distance. He didn’t know what to do; if his dad noticed his disappearance, he’d panic and send people to look for him. He didn’t want them to walk into this death trap, but at the same time, there was no way he’d get through the walkers unnoticed.

“Carl,” he could hear the slight shift in the tone of your voice. It became stern. You’ve never spoken to him this way before. He knew that he had no choice but to go with you.

Finally, he nodded his head and let you guide him the opposite way. You traveled in silence, on high alert at all times. Your eyes scanned the horizon, and your ears strained to listen for the slightest hint of danger. You couldn’t risk gaining the attention of any of the walkers. If just one noticed you, it’d all be over.

After hours of walking, you reached the gates of a community unknown to Carl. He looked quizzically between you and the tall gates, but you could see the annoyance and suspicion spreading through his face.

“You brought me to the Sanctuary? Right under your father’s nose?” he questioned, fuming. He quickly pulled his hand out of yours and stepped away from your reach. How could you do this to him?

For a moment, you were oblivious to his suspicions and looked at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb!” Carl’s voice was booming as he stared you down, fists clenched.

Your eyes jumped from Carl to the community’s gates, then back to your companion again. You quickly understood what he feared. “Well, I’m flattered you think the Sanctuary looks like this.”

Carl seemed disoriented; he blinked fast as the hatred fell from his face. He felt terrible that it took just this to make him doubt you and withdraw his trust. The boy looked down at the dirt beneath his boots.

“I wouldn’t take you there Carl.”

He nodded, reassured by your words, but still didn’t raise his head. “I’m sorry, I just freaked out.”

You walked toward him, your hand gently grasping his chin to make him look at you. You pecked his cheek softly before pulling him towards the gates. “This is the Kingdom. We’ll be safe here and we can rest a little before going home.”

“Are you sure? How do you even know about this place?” he questioned but followed you without any resistance.

“Uhh…” You scratched your neck bashfully. “It’s a long story. I will tell you someday, I promise.”

Upon reaching the gates, the man on watch duty stood up abruptly, revealing the biggest, friendliest smile as he recognized your face. Waving you in, he called to someone else to let you inside. You slipped through the crack in the gates without waiting a second longer.

Carl observed as the unfamiliar man greeted you by name with his arms outstretched and his face full of joy. You rushed up to him, throwing your own arms around his solid frame, a playful fight unfolding between the two of you before you remembered about your companion.

“Jerry, this is Carl.” The man raised his eyebrow, anticipating that you’d add something more to the introduction. So you humored him, “My boyfriend.”

“Didn’t think anyone would like your overconfident ass,” he joked, letting out a deep chuckle as you clutched your chest in the feigned offense.

“Me? Overconfident?” You snorted, crossing your arms. “Never.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jerry waved you off before changing the topic. “What brings you here so early?”

“I hoped we could crash here for a few hours. We almost bumped into a herd,” you explained, your happiness faltering at the memory.

“You’re always welcome here, you know that.” The man patted your shoulder reassuringly. He didn’t need more explanation.

You smiled, nodding gratefully at him before your hand found Carl’s, and you pulled him down the path deeper into the community.

“Come on, I know a place.”

You took him to a small clearing on the other side of the community, a makeshift garden nearby. You pulled him onto a comfortable hammock hanging between two apple trees. As the sun rose in the sky, you both basked in its warm glow and dozed off in peaceful slumber.

Even though you both would likely be in trouble once you reached your homes, the temporary escape was more than worth it. Carl’s company was worth all the trouble in the world. There was no place you wouldn’t have gone with him, no distance you wouldn’t have traveled, and no experience that wasn’t worth sharing with him.

Maybe someday, we can just live here.

TAGLIST

@thatcucumberwhore @yttricuz @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @humanmistakes @twdeadlysins @donttelltheelff @khaleesihavilliard @leafy-sprouts @spenceslovcr

#carl grimes #twd carl #carl twd #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes imagines #carl grimes x male reader #x male reader #carl x reader #carl x male reader #carl grimes x male! reader #The Walking Dead #The Walking Dead AMC #twd #carl grimes x negan's son #carl grimes x son of negan

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boombox-fuckboy · 1 year

Note

Hey. Could you rec any podcasts with sapphic couples as their mains? Or a sapphic story. And so on. I only really know about where the stars fell and Alice isn't dead.

You're off to a strong start. Here's 20, there's more out there, but I tried to pick a variety. I'm going to put a ★ next to the ones I think will fit best, but they're all good.

Arden: (Fictional "True Crime", Investigative, Comedy). On the 25th of December, 2007, heiress and young actress Julie Capsom crashed her car into a tree and fled into a nearby forest clearing, leaving a trail that seemingly vanished into thin air, and a dismembered torso in the trunk. A decade later, Bea, the first reporter on the scene, and Brenda, a detective on the case, are hosting a true crime podcast about it, and neither is remotely impressed with what the other has to say. Arden is also a retelling of various Shakespeare plays.

The Author's Anathema: (Horror) Looking for some extra cash, and with some help from her girlfriend Eleanor, college student Natalie takes a small job to narrate an audiobook for a reclusive anonymous author. The book being a horror wouldn't be such a bother, but the stories within are... Familiar. Too familar.

The Beacon: (Urban Fantasy) Bee is a perpetually anxious university student who discovers she has the ability to create fire, and decides to start a podcast to find others like herself. She quickly discovers she's not alone, but a series of bizzare animal attacks suggest superpowered freshers are far from the only strange thing on campus.

The Department of Variance of Somewhere, Ohio: (Weird Fiction, Horror, Sci-Fi) On day one of a new job at the Department of Variance, in the middle of her workplace orientation, Jasmine's new workplace goes into lockdown. Guided via walkie-talkie by Scarlet, an experienced security officer, Jasmine must make her way down 20-odd shifting floors of strange entities and experiments. Ideally without becoming one of them. As a disclaimer, this one is the only addition to this list that isn't actively romantic yet, however there are canonically sapphic characters, and I am fairly confident it's headed that way.

★ Elixir: (Urban Fantasy, Romance) Set in a fantasy world's equivalent of the american prohibition, lawmakers daughter Elsie approaches someone unexpected in search of her missing sister: Vera, an alchemist and propriator of the local now-elicit hush bar.

The Far Meridian: (Magical Realism) An agorophobic young woman wakes up to discover her lighthouse home has moved overnight. It quickly becomes clear this isn't a once-off, and she decides to use this as an opportunity to search for her missing brother, having some strange encounters along the way.

Interference: (Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Romance) Jacq is a D&D podcaster. Geneva is an orc scientist studying ancient human ruins the next world over. What happens when these women from different realities begin picking up each other's broadcasts?

Khôra Podcast: (Sci-Fi) Somewhere between adapted from and inspired by various greek myths, Khôra follows four women who deserved better (Atalanta, Echo, Medea, and Medusa) on a grand space adventure to find the golden fleece while keeping out of the reach of the olympians who own and run the galaxy.

★ Mabel: (Mystery, Supernatural, Horror, Romance). The live-in carer of a dying elderly woman attempts to contact her granddaughter, with little success. The contents of voicemails only get stranger, and what starts as a subtley creepy mystery-horror develops to poetic lesbian fae body-horror.

★ Midnight Radio: (Light Supernatural, Romance). Sybil McIntyre, host of the ever-popular 1950's nightly radio hour, begins exchanging letters with an old fan who has reluctantly returned to visit Sybil's beloved town.

Mina's Story: (Sci-Fi, Romance Elements) Still dealing with a major loss in her family, a young woman volunteers for a long-term cryonics project. The episodes are her audio logs after waking up each time, always the same place but centuries after she went to sleep. A story about grief, change, and the intersection of past and future.

Mirrors: (Sci-fi, Mystery, Supernatural). The audio journal of three women from different periods (past, present, and future) who seem to share little in common bar the strange inhuman, ghostly figures they have started seeing.

Night Life: (Supernatural, Noir) Utterly wacky one-episode story (more of a short audio movie) about an ex-vampire hunter turned private eye who finds herself dealing with the shenanigans of mafia and vampires in the wake of an upcoming mayoral election. Find it on the feed for The Lightning Bottler.

The Night Post: (Supernatural, Mystery). The conscripted couriers of Gilt City are both respected and shunned, integral to the city's function, but inexplicably tied to the supernatural. It's not something they like to talk about. When his husband goes missing on the job, Milo is called to take over. Clementine took over from her father a long time ago, yet recently someone else with her face has been delivering her own unsent letters. Val's not going to discuss how she ended up there, but she will absolutely open people's mail (filled with their own supernatural tales) to read aloud.

Palimpsest, Season 2: (Horror, Romance, Fantasy Elements). Set in the 1800s, a young woman becomes the maid to a supposed fairy noblewoman, who is being kept as one of many "denizens", living curiousities, in a large house. Each season is a different story, this is Season 2.

★ The Pasithea Powder: (Sci-Fi, Thriller?) The last major interplanetary war was full of atrocities, but none more infamous then the creation of Pasithea Powder, a memory altering drug which was used to horrible effect and landed it's entire team of creators in prison. So when decorated war hero Captain Sophie Green sees one of them wandering free, worlds away from his prison, she gets in touch with a very old, estranged friend: one Dr. Jane Gonzalez, who's behind bars for the very same reason.

Starship Q Star: (Sci-Fi, Comedy) The small crew of a tone-deaf space agency's attempt at a PR mission wake up at Mars to discover that they - and the one botanist abandoned on Mars base - are now the last surviving members of humanity. Co-captains and ex-girlfriends Aurelia and Sim must now dedicate themselves to protecting their crew and finding a new home, but they're rarely on the same page about how best to do it.

★ The Strange Case of Starship Iris: (Sci-Fi) When the shuttle carrying the crew of scientific research ship Iris explodes, Violet Liu finds herself stranded in space, the last survivor with no way out. Until her emergency broadcast is picked up by a passing ship. But the crew aren't who they seem to be, there's more going on here than anyone knows yet, and Violet must decide who she can really trust.

Unwell: (Supernatural). Lily Harper revisits her supposedly haunted childhood home to help take care of her aging mother. The house is weird, sure, but there's something far stranger haunting the town of Mount Absolm than simply ghosts.

Weaver: (Supernatural, Romance Elements). The musings of the entity within the old house about the girl she fell in love with (the only thing she can remember), and her two new coinhabitants, who do not yet know she exists.

787 notes · View notes

ultralightpoe · 3 months

Text

Sweet Nothing - Robert 'Bob' Floyd

Authors Note : I cannot believe this is only the second piece I had ever written for him because I loved him! This sat in the drafts a litte too long if you know what I mean.

Word Count: 3519

Warnings: - none I believe -

Requests: OPEN

Main Master list - - Midnights Event List

(Thank you for the gif @topgundaily )

x Enjoy! x

I spy with my little tired eye

Tiny as a firefly

A pebble that we picked up last July

Down deep inside your pocket

We almost forgot it

Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

It’s a weird feeling, knowing that you were so close to the end and not being ready for it. You wanted to dig your heels in the mud and fight away from the finish line, drag yourself back to the start. What you would give to go back to the beginning when it was still so sweet and happy.

But you weren’t in a race, and you couldn’t fight your way away from the finish line this time. No, right now you are laid out across the bed of your guest room with the love of your life avoiding you downstairs. The end is coming. You both knew it, you just weren’t ready.

You had been warned over and over, from your friends to your parents and you knew his own group had warned him as well. You should have listened. But you both thought you could beat the odds.

He took you to the lake for a date, a fact that made your friends giggle amongst each other as you rushed around to get ready. Braiding your hair at first before panicking and not liking it so you rushed to brush through as your best friend chose the best bathing suit for you to wear and they all talked about your date.

“-He is so cute. And he blushes whenever you are close, which is so cute.” Veronica smiles, playing with your waterproof mascara as your brush snags on a nasty knot in your hair and makes you gasp in pain.

“Are you sure about this? He is a military man. We have the no dating military rule for a reason.” Samantha snaps, her eyes laid with mistrust and her body rigid as she leans against your wall. “I don’t want to get a call in the middle of the night of you crying to escape.”

That made you panic slightly, you knew Bob and he was always so sweet but how many females had fallen for the sweet act before. He was military and Samantha herself had gone through a military marriage that led to a broken cheek and nose, you had been the one to give her a place to stay.

“It will be fine.” You shrug. “I have a good feeling.”

And you had been right, he took you to the lake and you both swam around for hours. He braided your hair when you got out so it didn’t get knotted and tangled from the lake water. You stayed huddled together in his car for warmth as you ate the greasiest burgers you could and laughed about the day you had.

“I had a lot of fun today.” Bob blushes, fixing his glasses from where they were sliding down his nose as you smile at him. His cheeks were a little rosy from the sun and his knee was pressed to yours, his hair swept awkwardly. “Thank you for spending the day with me.”

“Thank you for inviting me.” You answer, both your voices low as you stare at each other. “I loved it.”

“You ready to go home, then?” He asks, his cheeks reddening even more past the burn which makes you smile a little wider.

“Or we could…. Well we could go to your place.” You offer to be near him a little longer.

“I’d love that.” He smiles, moving to pull something out of the pocket of his swim trunks, placing it on the dashboard so he could start the car, and you blink at it.

“Did you have a rock in your pocket?”

“Yeah. I thought it was pretty and I wanted to keep a memory of today.” He says lowly, looking at you nervously. “Is that weird?”

“No. Not at all.” You laugh, leaning to kiss his cheek.

They said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

That little pebble from the lake still sat on his dashboard, the day he crashed his truck he made sure to grab it and keep it in his pocket. When he got his flier from the military he kept it on that dashboard now. He always carted it around in the air, saying it was his good luck charm.

The thought makes tears well up in your eyes as you drag yourself from the bed and shuffle around the room to get dressed for the day. It had been the very first time you slept without Bob, which meant you didn’t actually get any sleep and you were more than a little cranky. Tired, cranky and upset.

Not a good mix.

But you tried to keep it together while you got ready for the day, fixing your hair and slipping on shoes before heading downstairs to grab your bag and keys.

When your love sees you he casts his eyes away, rubbing at his chest as he makes himself look busy. “I made coffee if you need-”

It hurt to hear his voice, tearing at your chest as you snatch your work bag and keys before storming out of the house without any coffee. Just like that the feeling of betrayal is back, slashing at your heart and making you angry once more.

Even the sound of his voice upset you now.

Bob knew the news was not going to be delivered easily, waiting for you to get home from work with his leg bouncing wildly out of anxiety. You would leave, he knew it. Not that he would blame you, it would just tear him up through and through.

The front door stands and he rushes up, fixing his glasses and turning the corner to where you would still be taking off your shoes. “Hey.”

Your head snaps up at his greeting, smiling softly as you shuffle closer and lean up on your toes to kiss his cheek before you move to kiss his lips. You seem to read his body language then, the tight stance and the guilty way he doesn’t kiss back before you lean back and blink at him. “Everything okay?”

“I….. They are changing my… okay so you know how we always talk about how I might be restationed?” He mumbles, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “Well I… they are restationing me.”

“What? How long do you have?” You blink, fully pulling back from him. His hands catch on the bottom of your jacket, trying to keep you close and failing when you take another step back.

His face pulls in a grimace as he realizes that this is where the annoyance will kick in, where you will actually get mad at him. “I have about 2 weeks.”

“2 weeks! I’m sorry, repeat that because it sounds like you just said 2 weeks.” You snap, blinking at him as your face begins setting into anger. “Aren’t they supposed to give you more time? Why would they make this so short?”

“Well I found out… a month ago. I just didn’t know how to explain and I wanted to find an apartment that might work before I told you.”

“What do you mean, might work?!”

“For us. An apartment that would be big enough for us-”

“You expect me to drop my entire life in 2 weeks?!” And before either of you knew it there was a fight brewing.

On the way home

I wrote a poem

You say, "What a mind"

This happens all the time

You can’t really concentrate at work, your pen tapping on your desk a little too quickly, your coworkers beginning to look at you with odd glances.

The more you thought the more you began changing your mind. It’s not like you loved this job, you would be more than happy to give your two weeks. Hell, you would love to give your days notice. You would not miss this job nor would you miss any of your coworkers. You would however miss your friends and family.

But it’s not like phones didn’t exist, and it’s not like you couldn’t take vacations to come see them. But it still wouldn’t be the same, you would be tearing yourself away from your family and friends. Alienating yourself.

At the end of the day your options are narrowed down to leaving Bobby behind or leaving your life behind.

Would you be able to make that choice.

“Are you okay?” Your boss asks, coming to stand at your cubicle with a stern look. “I haven’t received any of the reports I needed from you in the past hour.”

“I…..” You blink, sitting up straighter, the photo of Bobby you have on your desk catching your eyes.

“Let’s talk in my office.” She snaps, nodding her head as you try to come up with a proper excuse to your behavior.

A month into the relationship and your friends still were a little skeptical of your boyfriend, but things were easy and you were in love.

Tonight you would be taking Bobby to your friends birthday party, which was a very important thing and your boyfriend was panicking. You were laying on his bed, watching him pace back and forth in his room as he tried to find something to wear.

“Does it look kiss assy if I match you? Because you look great but I don’t want your friends thinking I’m…. or maybe these jeans won’t work. How dressy is this party?” He panics, finally looking at you and fixing his glasses.

“I think you are stressing yourself out.” You mumble, patting the bed in front of you to call him over. He sighs, moving to sit by you with a grunt which has you crawling closer and laying your head in his lap. His fingers immediately comb through your hair as he smiles down at you.

“I know your friends don’t like me, I just want to impress them.” He blushes, shrugging his shoulders.

“They like you… they all just have thoughts on the military life.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They are scared you’re going to try and marry me and drag me across the country away from them and everyone. It’s a valid fear.”

“So…. you…. Well….. “ He blanches, nodding his head before moving to stand up. “I’ll stick with the shirt that matches you and the jeans.”

'Cause they said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was nothing

The drive home was filled with shaky hands and tears, you had to pull over once and swipe at your cheeks, taking a second to catch your breath before you continued your drive home.

The house was dark, Bobby’s shoes gone and his key slot empty which meant he probably went to work or had some other stuff to take care of. You sighed in relief, thankful for at least a couple more hours before you would have to have this conversation with him.

Instead you went upstairs, grabbing the stuff you had angrily dragged to the guest room last night and putting it back where it belonged before you hid and called your mom.

Cowardly, you might add.

You were in tears by the time you slammed the door to the guest room, hands shaking as you screamed at him to leave you alone, your breathing ragged and torn.

How dare he? How dare he hide this from you and assume you would just up and leave? How dare he not tell you.

A little forewarning, a little more understanding. Anything more than this.

“Baby, can we please talk about this?” He asks through the door, a small thump telling you he laid his head on the door. “I…. we both knew this would happen. This doesn’t need to be this big of a deal.” “Go away. Just leave me alone.” You hated that he was right, that you had always known and had always been warned and yet still couldn’t imagine it.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors

And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

It had been a long day that had followed a long night, and he was tired.

All he wanted to do was crawl under your shared sheets and pull you into him, snoring in your neck the way you always complain about while laughing, tickling your sides and snoring loudly just to bother you a little more.

But after the fight he was sure you would still have a couple more issues to comb through. He understood, he did. The way he threw it at you was a bit much, and he should have told you sooner but he wanted to make sure everything was sorted before he brought it up. He wanted all his ducks to be in a row.

He was used to this life, you weren’t.

The house smelled like it normally does when he gets home, your key in it’s preferred spot and your shoes left by the door, but no you in sight which bothered him. He loved when you came to greet him and now the house just felt empty when he entered.

Calling your name once, another try, one last time before he sighs and moves to find you without taking his shoes off. He heads upstairs, moving through the halls easily in search of you. Something melting in his chest when he sees you curled upon his side of the bed with your face pressed into his pillow.

Shuffling closer and placing a kiss on the back of your head before closing the blinds to your shared room and making sure you are comfortable before heading downstairs and getting started on dinner. Concentrating on that rather than remembering your tear stained face from the night before.

There were hundreds of ways he could have handled the situation better, and he tried to do the right thing and ease you into it. But he still did the wrong thing.

He just wanted you, he just needed you.

Nothing else mattered to him.

“I can’t believe it.” You smile, from ear to ear, as you help him carry in the last of the boxes into your new shared townhouse.

He had gotten news that his leave would be extended another 2 years, which meant he didn’t have to leave you yet. You both chose to find a new place together after 7 months of dating and build a home together. He couldn’t be happier.

You were quick to set the box onto the kitchen table before dashing to jump into his arms which made him laugh loudly, nearly dropping you as he tripped up and ran into a wall. “What’s the first thing we do in our new place?”

“Oh there are so many options,handsome. We can cook dinner…. Or maybe set up our kitchen table properly…” You list off ideas, a mischievous glint in your tone. “Or we can fuck.”

He chokes on air, his cheeks tinting red as he blinks at you. “The last one. Definitely the last one.”

They said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

By the time you wake up you have no clue how long you slept. More than a little disoriented as you crawl from the bed and shuffle down the steps of your home, still wiping the sleep from your eyes as you keep tripping on your way to the kitchen.

He’s got his back to you as he hums, cooking over the stove, and the sight alone makes your eyes well up in tears. It had been almost 3 years with him, living together and building a life together.

He doesn’t have time to turn as you dash to him, tears falling freely as you wrap your arms around him and cry into the shirt on his back, clutching the fabric between your fingers as he tries his best to hug back. “Hey hey. Take it easy.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.” You sob, keeping him held tight.

“It’s fine. We’ll figure it out.” He whispers, finally getting the perfect spot to turn and hug you back. “I can make trips down here, any time I get days off I can try to get back here. You don’t have to give up your life for me.”

“No.”

“Come on baby. We can’t just drop this.” He pleads, trying to move you both to the table so you can sit and have conversation. “I can’t lose you. I know we were both aware of this coming but it’s different now that it is here.”

“I quit my job.” You blurt, making him blink at you. “I quit and already called my mom to tell her. I’ll be going with you.”

He can’t stop blinking at you, his heart stopping in his chest. “You didn’t have to…. You didn’t have to do that. I could have made the trips-”

“I don’t want to. I want you near all the time. I can’t live without you so if you’re being shipped to some stupid ocean side town then I will come with you and learn to swim.” You mumble out.

“You can swim.”

“Yeah…. In stillwater.” You laugh, the tears still falling. “I’ve given you 3 years. I’m not giving up now.”

“I know you don’t want this life ,marriage and being carted around.” He sighs. “But I was too selfish to let you go. And I can’t do that. I can’t let you go.”

“Is that what you think? That I don’t want to marry you?”

“Well your friends always sai-”

“I would love to marry you….. Okay you will actually have to ask me, this is not a proposal.”

“Okay, just take a breath.” Bobby laughs, watching you shake in the seat of his cockpit. “It’s just flying.”

“I’m not going in the air.” You snap a little too aggressively, the panic of being in the seat beginning to get to you. It was too high already, and you did not know how he did this on a day to day basis. “Let me out.”

“Okay, hold on. Take a deep breath with me now baby and just relax.” He orders, rubbing your arm comfortably. “Take a breath. You’re okay. Just take a look.”

You do what he says and take a deep breath in, looking around his cockpit before you spot the small rock from your first date sitting under the sun on the dashboard. “You still have that?”

“Of course.” He laughs, reaching past you to grab it before beginning to point and show you all the cool things in the cockpit.

They said the end is coming (they said the end is coming)

Everyone's up to something (everyone's up to something)

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving (outside, they're push and shoving)

You're in the kitchen humming (you're in the kitchen humming)

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

The new place had a weird energy.

You were still getting used to not being so close to your family and days at the beach were not as amazing as you dreamed them to be. Bobby was a part of a ‘secret team’ and his days were pretty packed with a high paced training schedule at first so there were many days you were left alone to figure out what to do.

You ended up getting another job, this one you liked a little more than the last but it was still so new to you.

It would take you a while to get used to everything which was fine, you had never had to move like that before but it would all be fine.

But today Bobby got time off, which you made sure would be spent well. Dressing up in a great outfit and driving out to the stadium to scream Taylor Swift at the top of your lungs.

By the time he drags you home you have drunkenly decided that the poster you got from the Eras tour might help you liven your new house with. Bobby agrees, smiling from ear to ear as you hang it up lopsided, knowing that if it makes you happy then he will 100 percent get more for every room of the house.

You fall asleep in his arms, letting him whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

#top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun smut #top gun angst #top gun fluff #top gun fanfic #robert floyd smut #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd fluff #robert floyd angst #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x y/n #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd smut #bob floyd angst #bob floyd fluff

114 notes · View notes

pfctipper · 7 days

Text

this post is only half-serious but i am constantly thinking about whatever weird body image issues dick winters had going on

i mean, the man is obsessed. look at how he talks about joining the paratroops:

'The more I looked at the paratroopers, the more I was inclined to join them as soon as I graduated from OCS. Of all the outfits I'd seen at Fort Benning, they were the best looking and most physically fit ... Airborne troopers looked like how I had always pictured a group of soldiers: hard, lean, bronzed, and tough' (Beyond Band of Brothers)

'It was at Benning that Winters first saw paratroopers up close. They were everything he'd always envisioned a soldier to be: lean, hard, well trained and disciplined, bronzed and tough. The men bore a fierce pride' (Biggest Brother)

and the main things he values in his friendship with tab:

'Later [Floyd Talbert and I] developed a personal friendship that transcended rank. Talbert was athletic and dedicated. You knew if your life were on the line, he would come through'

and he's always mentioning it in his letters to deetta - this isn't even all of them from Hang Tough:

'Is cheese fattening? What a question! What's cheese made out of? Well, is milk and butter fattening? Ok, then, stay away from the cheese, eat more proteins, like that steak, but no carbohydrates' (Letter during basic training)

'Now if you want to take off weight, you must do it every day and in addition, take it easy on the chow and liquid intake. After about two or three weeks, if you've been real conscientious, you'll see some results. This may sound like a lot of bunk to you but there are few days when I don't run between two - two and a half miles, do 80 pushups, 60 situps on a footlocker, a couple of splits, and some leg and trunk exercises after the day's work is over. As a result I keep in pretty good shape' (Letter literally written at the airfield a week before Market Garden)

'I don't believe out of 600 men [in Second Battalion] that over 10 have been married. And in about 6 cases, they drew a lemon, I'd say. Something that should come with a sack where they really wear a hat ... Starting to get in pretty good shape again, 174. Just ten pounds off my fighting weight and I could make that in three, four days. How's your fighting form? Don't answer that' (Letter from Austria)

all of which is an objectively insane way to speak to your maybe-girlfriend. did he think this was flirting? was deetta thrilled to get weight loss advice and comments about how random english women were ugly from a man in the middle of a warzone

he manages to include multiple shirtless photos of himself in his books but not a single physical description of nix. even the random man who picks him up hitchhiking and then tries to pick him up gets called 'good-looking'. irene, nix's english wife, gets 'anything but beautiful' and 'skinny' which. dick. what is wrong with you

#dick winters #can you tell i wrote an entire undergrad thesis on physical culture and the body beautiful #dick would LOVE muscular christianity

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babyflorencee · 3 months

Text

Only one bed

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

The anticipation for the premiere of my latest project, 'little women' had my nerves on edge as I sat in the airport, waiting for my Uber. Tomorrow's event promised excitement and anxiety in equal measure – after all, being one of the main characters in a show was a huge accomplishment for me.

As I scrolled through my Instagram feed, a message from my driver notified me of his arrival. Stepping outside the airport, I was met by a cheerful man who swiftly took my suitcase and stowed it in the trunk before we set off on the short journey, engaging in light conversation along the way.

My phone buzzed incessantly with notifications from the group chat comprised of my fellow 'Little women' cast members. Amidst the chatter, the revelation that we had to share rooms due to a booking oversight surfaced. I sighed inwardly, hoping I wouldn't end up rooming with Timothée – a fellow actor whom I didn't like, at all.

"Miss, we're here," The driver said, getting out and walking around to the trunk to get my bags. Once I got out of the car, I heard someone shout, "Y/N!" looking up I saw Florence with her arms wide open sprinting over to me. I smiled at her, engulfing her in a bear hug. We stayed that way for a while until we heard someone calling our names. We turned around to see Saoirse behind us. "We're deciding who's rooming with who." She said, walking back to the hotel's lobby with Florence and I following close behind her.

***

"Oh fuck no!" I yelled, "I'm not going to be sharing a room with this mother fucker." I said pointing towards Timothée.

"Yeah, and I don't want to share a room with her either!" He retorted, crossing his arms and pouting, causing me to roll my eyes at his childish behavior.

After a while of arguing I eventually gave up, knowing I wouldn't win this argument.

I was to share a room with Timothée. Our mutual disdain for each other was palpable as we rode the elevator to the 19th floor.

"Going up," the elevator announced as it started moving.

I shot Timothée a scornful glare, my irritation palpable at the thought of sharing a room, especially with him – the last person I wanted as a roommate.

The elevator opened revealing the floor we would all be staying on for the next few days. We all went our separate ways just wanting to get to our rooms.

Timothée and I were walking down the halls when we saw our room number. Disgruntled and resigned to our fate, Timothée opened the door throwing his bags on the floor and going straight to the bathroom, grabbing a cup, and filling it with water, while I just stood in the middle of the room in shock.

"Uh, Timothée," I called out to him.

"What n/n?" He said with attitude, walking over towards me and taking a sip from his water.

"Look!" I said, pointing to the spacious yet troubling sight – a solitary king-size bed occupying the center of the room.

Any other person from the cast and I would've been totally fine with it. Why out of all the people did it have to be with Timothée? "You sleep on the bed; I'll sleep on the floor,""He said, grabbing two of the pillows and one of the blankets.

Feeling guilt take over my body, I said, "Tim, it's fine; we could just share the bed; we could put a pillow to divide us."

He didn't reply; he just smiled, throwing the pillow and blanket back on the bed before leaving for the bathroom once again. Timothée emerged from the bathroom in casual blue-and-white pajamas, a departure from his usual appearance. He settled onto his side of the bed, slipping beneath the duvet and cuddling against his pillow. He actually looked kinda cute right now. As much as I hated to admit it, he was a really attractive guy, he just has a terrible personality.

I, too, got under the covers, snuggling up into my pillow before drifting off to sleep.

The night passed relatively quiet until the early hours of the morning, I awoke to sudden movement in the room. To my dismay, my eyes slowly opened to reveal Florence, Emma, and Saoirse standing around the bed, brandishing their phones like paparazzi. I shot up, waking Timothée up from my sudden movements. "What the hell are you guys doing in here?" I questioned.

"I think the real question is how you even got in here." Timothée said, with an annoyed expression.

"Irrelevant," Florence said as Saoirse shoved her phone in our faces.

"Look how cute you guys look!" She said, revealing a photo of Timothée and me spooning with his arm wrapped around me.

My face flushed red as I looked down trying to hide my face. After a while of them teasing us, they eventually left. "Hey, um sorry about that, I didn't know I did that in, my sleep," Timothée said, his head down in embarrassment.

I put my hand on top of his making him look at me. "It's fine, really," I said, smiling at him.

Driven by a surge of impulse, I closed the distance between us, our lips colliding in an unexpected union. Timothée responded, his touch gentle yet firm as he cradled my face in his hands. A smile crept onto my lips as I tangled my fingers in his curls, savoring the moment of intimacy. We both pulled away for air, going back for another kiss when we heard someone clearing their throat, jumping away from each other we saw Emma and Saoirse with big smiles on their face, "you owe me 20 bucks, pay up." Florence said, putting her hand out.

"Seriously how the fuck are you guys getting in here?!"

***

This is definitely not my best work ever, so I apologize for that.

#timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet #timothee hal chalamet #timothée chalamet fanfic #timothée chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet #Timothée Chalamet imagines #timothée hal chalamet #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet one shots #timothée chalamet oneshots #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee chalamet fanfic #Timothèe chalamet fanfic #Timothee hal chalamet #Timothée chalamet imagines #Timothée chalamet x reader

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humanpurposes · 11 months

Text

My Heart Belongs to Daddy, part v, modern!Aemond

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist // She's the first one that I see

modern!Aemond x step-daughter

Warnings: 18+, smut, language, questionable relationships, you know the drill, also mentions of terminal illness.

Words: 9300

A/n: Aemond's pov here we gooo. This part gets its own header coz vibes. Also available to read on AO3.

Another summer brought another two months at Dragonstone.

The relief Aemond felt clambering out of his mother’s Volvo and into the coastal breeze was immeasurable. Helaena got the front seat, as always, which left the three boys to be packed into the backseat for two hours, in the middle of a June heatwave.

He somewhat resented Daemon and Laena’s absence this year. Generally they alternated summers between Dragonstone and Pentos with the Velaryons. It was a shame, his uncle often brought some much needed tension to family holidays, the entertaining kind as opposed to the depressing kind, and Baela and Rhaena were by far the most tolerable of the younger family members.

Viserys hadn’t arrived yet. He had some work things to catch up on and would drive down later, which just left the Strongs. Alicent had received a call from Rhaenyra while they were in the car to say they’d be a few hours behind them. Thank the Gods. At least it gave them a few hours of peace.

Dragonstone had originally been built as a castle, preserved over the centuries as a place for pleasure rather than a defensive keep. It had a gatehouse, turrets, arrowslits, parapets and ivy sprawling over the outer walls that turned red in the autumn. It looked idyllic, like a castle out of a fairytale.

After bringing his bag up to his room there was only one place Aemond wanted to be.

His favourite part of coming back to Dragonstone were the gardens, sprawling walks of greenery, sweet-smelling rose bushes and sandstone archways. If the weather was right, he could convince himself he was in some remote corner of an Italian manor house.

One of the gravel paths led down to the pool, overlooked by a patio from the back of the main house. It was a blissful little oasis, when he could have it to himself, of crystal clear water, tall hedges and blue and orange tiles laid out in intricate patterns.

He had his trunks on already and left his t-shirt and shorts on a sun lounger before he slipped into the water. The cold was a welcome reprieve, especially when he dunked his head under and pushed off from the side, cutting through the water with powerful strokes.

It had been a while since he’d had time for swimming and he felt slightly irritated at the ache in his arms from the unfamiliar movements. To be fair to himself, he hadn’t made time for any hobbies over the last few weeks on account of his exams, and it had paid off at least. He still had a few weeks until he would get his results but he knew he would do well.

As far as he was concerned, his future was set. He would get four A*s, then in September he’d be off to Oldtown to start university. In three years, he would graduate with a first and come back to King’s Landing to start at Targ Corp, despite his grandfather’s attempts to convince him to consider a career at Beacon, the Hightower family business. Otto had a vision that one day, his grandsons would run two of the largest companies in Westeros, Aegon at Targ Corp and Aemond at Beacon.

Although the offer of a generous salary and an internship during his studies had sounded tempting, it was a question of pride more than anything. The silver hair should have been evidence enough; Aemond was a Targaryen before he was a Hightower.

Despite his determination to live up to the family name, he had come to resent these summers at their ancestral home. The house and the gardens were beautiful, and he loved being so close to the isolated beach below the hill the house was set on, but he could think of no worse fate than having to spend ten weeks with his insufferable sister, their father’s pride and joy, her idiotic husband and their three sons.

He ran his hands over his face as he emerged on the other side of the pool, his left palm skimming over the scar on the side of his face. It was easy to forget it was there sometimes, until he’d catch someone frowning at it.

Rhaenyra was lucky his mother hadn’t pressed charges and publically issued a statement that the whole thing had been a “tragic accident”. Later he learnt Alicent had been holding it over Rhaenyra’s head ever since, waiting for a time when she’d need the leverage.

Ten weeks with the Strongs was all that stood between him and the rest of his life, some sick test of patience.

He wasn’t alone for long before he spotted Aegon and Daeron at the outlook up at the house. They sprinted out of view and soon came hurtling down the steps to the pool in their trunks. They leapt in, disturbing Aemond’s laps but he reluctantly let himself be happy that the three of them were in the same place for once.

Aegon had just finished a degree in criminal psychology. Alicent and Otto had had to practically buy him a place at KLU. How he had managed to pass was a mystery to everyone, Aemond wondered if he had pulled it together at the last minute purely out of spite. He had already been living in a flat in central with a few of his friends for the last two years. Helaena said he rarely visited the house.

Aemond and Daeron had barely been back from Duskendale before they were all in the car to Dragonstone. He hadn’t minded boarding school, in some ways it made him appreciate the times he got to be at home, and it meant he didn’t have to see his father on a daily basis or watch his mother drive herself insane with her self-imposed workload. Again, Helaena gave him updates on that. He supposed it would make the move to Oldtown less jarring.

For now he laughed as Aegon challenged them to swimming races and tackled Daeron when he lost. The oldest Targaryen brother was surprisingly strong for his shorter stature. Daeron towered over him but he was wiry, easy for Aegon to sling him over his shoulder.

They were making such a scene in the water that Aemond didn’t notice his mother until she shouted Aegon’s name from the bottom of the steps. “Put your brother down and get changed, seven hells!”

Aegon tossed Daeron’s legs over his head, sending him flopping unceremoniously into the pool. “What’s the rush?”

“Rhaenyra and Harwin are only half an hour away!” Alicent shrieked, as if this was something they should have cared about. “And they’re bringing a guest, so I want you all presentable and ready for dinner before they arrive.”

Daeron was starting to climb up the ladder, so Aemond pressed his palms to the edge of the pool and pushed himself out.

“What guest?” he asked, reaching for his towel from one of the sun loungers.

Harwin’s niece.

She’d been a flower girl at Harwin and Rhaenyra’s wedding, but he only knew that from the photographs. He didn’t remember the last time he must have seen her, probably some family gathering with the Strongs, before Luke slashed a knife in his face and they stopped seeing them as often.

Aegon seemed eager for “fresh meat” as they marched back up to the house.

Daeron was more sceptical and shot Aemond a concerned frown. “Just what we need, another Strong kid.”

After a quick shower, Aemond changed into a white t-shirt and a pair of dark green cargo trousers, and made his way through the maze of hallways and ornate staircases. He found his parents in the reception hall, a spacious room located at the front of the house, leading off from the entrance hall, going through to the dining room on one side and the drawing room from the other. It was where they usually lingered when the arrival of a guest was imminent.

Most of the visitors to Dragonstone considered this to be the most impressive room in the house, with its tall stained glass windows, silver chandelier, walnut panelling and carved columns supporting a gallery on the first floor.

The smell of smoke and charred wood drifted from the fireplace, mingling with the musk of antique velvet sofas. Alicent was torn between typing something on her phone and discussing some arrangement with their head of security, a deceptively young looking man with black hair named Criston Cole.

Evidently Viserys had arrived. He was sitting in a red armchair, taking small sips of a glass of whisky. He looked up when he heard footsteps against the floor, and offered his son a vague nod.

Helaena and Daeron weren’t far behind Aemond, and Aegon was of course the last to make it down. He insisted it was “perfect timing,” because the moment he walked into the room, Cole received a call from the front gate.

Daeron perched on the windowsill and jittering like a puppy as a black escalade pulled up before the gatehouse.

Within minutes Viserys was throwing his arms around his favourite child. Aemond cast a cold glare over Harwin, Jace, Luke and little Joffrey, clinging to his father’s hand with his thumb in his mouth. The sixth guest followed behind them.

Her hair was pulled away from her face, wide eyes sweeping curiously over the people, the paintings on the walls and the antiques in glass cabinets. The beginning of a smile spread across her lips, but her face fell when her eyes met his.

Aemond sucked his teeth into his lips. He was used to people looking at him like that, or averting their gaze altogether. He could only imagine what Jace and Luke might have told her about their cruel uncle and his horrible scar.

At dinner she sat on the other end of the table from him, between Harwin and Jace. She was a few years older than her cousins but they all seemed to get on well, joking and smiling at each other. It made Aemond’s blood boil.

Daeron made a point of introducing himself to her but he suspected this show of hospitality was mostly because she was pretty.

She really was pretty though, and quiet, but not necessarily in a nervous way. She seemed content to listen, smiling vaguely at the things people said, feeling no need to fill the silences. When she did smile– properly smile– it was wide, bright and unashamed.

He overheard her mention an interest in history as dessert was brought out, asking Rhaenyra and Viserys all sorts of questions about Dragonstone’s origins and architecture. He thought of a few books in the library he could recommend but dismissed the idea. When Aegon suggested giving her a tour of the house he felt his grip on his fork tighten.

Dragonstone was large enough that even with most of the family there it was easy to feel alone, and Aemond spent the first few days of their stay doing exactly that. In the mornings he’d go for a run, then head down to either the pool or the beach for a quick swim. He had his reading list for uni already and was making his way through a textbook on political philosophy, which he read either in the library or a quiet corner of the garden.

Daeron and Aegon were far better at being civil with Jace and Luke than he was, and she seemed happy to tag along with their antics. Aemond avoided them where he could.

One afternoon he decided to take his textbook to the patio at the back of the house, and winced at the shrieks of laughter coming from the pool. He was going to head back inside but found himself stepping towards the balustrade, looking over the greenery to the unnaturally blue water.

She was sitting on the edge of the pool in a red swimsuit, with her legs in the water. Even from so far away he could make out the details of her smile, her teeth, the roundness of her cheeks and the way she squinted her eyes.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, until a gentle voice pulled him from his trance.

“Aemond?”

His heart almost stopped and he spun around immediately. An awful feeling sank into his chest, like he’d done something wrong.

Helaena was standing in the doorway, in a pale blue sundress and purple sandals. “Me and mum were going to drive into the village, if you’d like to come?”

Maybe some time away from the house would do him good. He nodded and uttered a quiet “yes.”

She came onto her tiptoes, trying to peer past his shoulder, but from where she was standing she wouldn’t have been able to see what he was looking at. Maybe she didn’t need to see. Another few howls of laughter drifted up to the patio, and a cry of “Aegon, you bastard!”

Helaena sighed and smiled. He left his book on a table in the entrance hall and followed his sister out to the gatehouse where Alicent was already waiting in the Volvo.

The village was just over a ten minute drive away from the house. Aemond leaned his head against the window in the backseat, feeling content in the blur of vibrant greens and blues. He could have fallen asleep to the hum of the air con and the voices of his mother and sister.

Until he heard her name.

“What?” he mumbled, absentmindedly, shifting himself in the seat and catching Helaena’s eye through her overhead mirror.

“She’s starting her A Levels in September,” Alicent said. “Politics, philosophy and history, same as you.”

He had also taken an extra class in High Valyrian, but he wasn’t going to hold it against her.

“You’d get on I think,” Helaena added, pushing her John Lennon-esque sunglasses on top of her head. He could see she was smirking.

Aemond huffed and went back to staring out the window at the fields, the sky, the sea and the wildflowers growing at the side of the road. He could say he didn’t care about their guest but it would have been a lie. He couldn’t get that red swimsuit out of his head.

Eventually he started agreeing to the occasional beach trip or tennis match. Turns out he quite enjoyed spending time with his nephews when he could beat them at something. And it meant he could see her more often.

There were these odd moments, when he’d catch her staring at him over breakfast or by the pool, that got his hopes up a little, only for her to quickly look away and find someone to fawn over, usually Aegon or one of her cousins. But then she’d find him in the garden and ask about the book he was reading, or sit next to him when they lit a campfire on the beach, just brushing her leg against his.

They could be confusing but he liked those moments. Every day he woke up ectatic that he would get to see her, and that they might talk about politics or philosophy or a shared love for Daphne du Maurier or the Great Gatsby.

He needed her alone, just once.

He got the chance on the last weekend of July. Alicent, Rhaenyra and Helaena had gone to Rosby for the day, while Harwin had been talking about a trip to Dragonstone harbour to go fishing, something Daeron sounded rather enthusiastic about. Leaving him, Aegon and Viserys at the house.

After a late breakfast, Aemond went up to the library with the next book on his reading list, An Introduction to Essosi Regionalism. He was rather taken aback to see her sitting at the writing desk by the window. He had assumed she had gone to the harbour with the others.

In a sudden and awkward motion she stood and turned to face him, with wide eyes and a small smile.

“Sorry,” she said, pointing at the desk, “did you want to–”

“No.” He instantly regretted how short and final he sounded.

Her eyes dipped and he realised he was clutching his book far too tightly.

“I was only looking really,” she said, reaching back for her book, a biography of Queen Alysanne.

“You like history,” he said, intending it to be a question but it sounded more like a statement.

She smiled again, at his mistake, he guessed. “Yeah, it’s incredible getting to spend so much time here, it’s a beautiful house.”

He stepped forward to place his book on the desk behind her, noticing the sweet citrusy scent of her perfume and the way she tensed up when he came too close.

“I could show you around, if you’d like? I mean, you’ve already been here long enough and you’ve probably seen most of it by now–”

It was only when she put a hand on his shoulder did he realise his head had dropped down to the floor.

“I’d love to,” she said.

Suddenly his chest felt a little lighter.

He showed her his favourite parts of the house, except the library which she had already seen, obviously. She had so many questions, noticed every detail and traced her fingertips along the ancient stone walls with a look of wonder that made his heart flutter.

Then they came to the long gallery overlooking the reception hall. He pointed out the fan vaulted ceiling detailed with gold and the line of portraits of hundreds of years of Targaryen history, monarchs and more recent family members. She was especially fascinated with a portrait of King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne with children. She could put a name and a story to every face.

She turned her head towards him and her breath hitched when she realised he was looking at her. His first instinct was to back away and apologise, but she didn’t move or say anything, just looked up at him with those pretty eyes.��

He wondered if he should kiss her. He’d never tried to kiss someone before. It should have been simple enough but it felt so daunting. What if he did it wrong? What if she didn’t want him to?

He saw her eyes flicker to his scar, and felt like he understood.

“Do you want to look at the old solar?” he asked, already walking towards the north door at the end of the gallery.

Behind him he heard her mutter a quiet “yeah.”

He rushed through the last few rooms. He could hardly catch his breath or think beyond the choking feeling in his throat or how hot the house seemed all of a sudden.

“Do you want to go outside?” she asked when he suggested going to the Maegor suite.

He nodded, and followed her down to the entrance hall, where they ran into Aegon. He was in trunks and an unbuttoned shirt to show off the tan on his abs.

He glanced between them with a strange look in his eye. “Beach?”

“Sounds good!” she said with a bright smile. “I just need to get some stuff from my room.”

Aegon grinned at her, then at his brother.

“I’m good, thanks,” Aemond grumbled, and went to spend the rest of the day sulking in his room.

Something was different about her after that. She stopped asking so many questions and rather than smile at him when they passed each other in the hallways she sighed and put her head down.

He really didn’t have much experience with these kinds of things, and he sure in seven hells wasn’t going to ask Aegon for advice.

He wished there was something he could do, but every time he thought about trying to talk to her he pictured her eyes on his scar and decided he’d rather spare her the trouble.

August went by far too quickly and then she was gone.

His time at the University of Oldtown brought some interesting experiences.

People seemed to respect him in a way he wasn’t used to. His lecturers complimented his work and his commitment to his studies. His classmates listened to him when he spoke in seminars, asked for his opinions on current affairs and invited him to lunches and parties.

He felt like a novelty in Oldtown, people wanted to befriend him, be seen with him, earn his approval. He felt shallow for admitting it, but the newfound attention felt good.

When he went back to King’s Landing that first summer, everyone said he was different. He’d always been interested in sports but he’d committed to a gym routine, shed some of the baby fat and toned out nicely. He traded the trackies and sports trainers for black shirts and leather jackets, got his ears pierced, drank whisky and smoked cigarettes on nights out.

And it turned out he wasn’t as hideous as he thought he was, in fact more often than not, the scar worked in his favour when it came to flirting.

After graduating he spent the summer in Oldtown, on an internship at Beacon, until Alicent told him she needed him in King’s Landing. She needed a contender of her own to pose as Viserys’ successor against Rhaenyra, and it was obvious neither Aegon or Helaena were going to live up to her expectations. So he did as he was told and moved back home, just in time for everything to start going wrong.

Viserys made his will. Rhaenyra was set to inherit Targ Corp and just about everything else he owned, including Dragonstone. Fucking typical. She had always been his golden child, all that was left of his beloved first wife. His mother always said he never got over Aemma. Singling out Rhaenyra was his way of making it up to her.

But Alicent had been the one helping Viserys run Targ Corp for twenty years, while Rhaenyra’s only real talent was her ability to get whatever she wanted out of their father.

If Rhaenyra were to succeed Viserys, everything his mother had worked for would be for nothing, but Aemond could be the one to change that. He could bring Targ Corp to new heights and live up to the legacy of the Targaryen name. All he needed was for Viserys to give him that chance.

Alicent had been in talks with Borros Baratheon of Storm’s End, an energy company based in the Stormlands. A deal with them would open Targ Corp to a whole new industry, and maybe then Viserys would recognise the lapse in judgement.

The Storm’s End contract was everything and Alicent had trusted Aemond to see it through. Only it fell apart in his hands. One seemingly minor mistake and Baratheon was out.

Alicent was devastated and it killed him. The late nights and weekends working in the office when she should have been with her children, the constant spite and security from the corporate world, the tabloid news stories that called her a “gold digger,” and the years she spent chasing her husband’s approval had all been for nothing.

She never said it, but Aemond knew she blamed him.

It had been a shitty three months and by December he was exhausted. Daeron was back from Duskendale, Aegon was staying for a few weeks, and Helaena was adamant that they were going to have an enjoyable Christmas. She covered the house in fairy lights and put up a tree in the living room, decorated with colourful baubles that really had nothing to do with Christmas; rainbows, butterflies and bees.

The other three agreed to indulge her. Aegon suddenly became an expert at Christmas cocktails, Daeron was in a baking frenzy and Aemond put his old piano lessons to good use. He sat at the baby grand in the hallway for the first time in forever and played some old hymns mum used to make them sing. Until Aegon put the chords for Fairytale of New York in front of him, which he agreed was a much better song.

Alicent came in from the office on the 24th, rain soaked through her coat and her eyes red. She’d had a call from Lyonel Strong.

Harwin was in the hospital. Pancreatic cancer. He’d been ignoring the symptoms for years apparently, and by the time Rhaneyra made him get a diagnosis it was too late.

Nothing was an isolated issue. Mum, dad, Rhaenyra, work… everything fed off each other in a single spiral of chaos and grief.

He needed the space, he decided at a fundraiser on New Years Eve. He and Viserys had arrived together but they didn’t so much as make eye contact the entire night. Rhaenyra was understandably inconsolable, mum had refused to go, Helaena wasn’t cut out for these kinds of events and Daeron was studying for mock exams. He at least found solace in the knowledge that he was preferable to Aegon.

A woman with black hair caught his attention. She moved effortlessly throughout the room, martini in hand, which she sipped through dark red lips as she struck up conversations with the other attendees. Did she realise she was targeting the richest people in the room? Probably. She blended in well, in a black slip dress and a pearl necklace, but there was something else, glaring him right in the face.

She was familiar, but he couldn’t place where he might have seen her before.

She smirked when she realised he was staring at her. After ordering herself another drink she waltzed over to him and introduced herself as “Alys Rivers.”

He must have let a little of his shock show on his face, because she smirked again.

Alys Rivers. Harwin’s cousin. The woman with the pretty daughter who’d spent a summer at Dragonstone.

They chatted for hours, she was very curious to hear about the company politics at Targ Corp, the few months he’d been working there and the whole debacle with the Storm’s End contract. She told him about herself too. She worked for Harrenhal PR, alongside her brothers, but was looking to start her own company.

He asked about Harwin.

That was the only time her perfect persona faltered, just for a moment, but then she took a sip of her drink and she was back to business. She said she was doing alright. It was a shock, he was like a brother to her, and she was trying to make the most of the moments she had left with him.

“It makes you appreciate what you have,” she said. They had found a table in a corner of the bar, ordering too many cocktails. She sighed heavily and put her hand on her chest, over her heart, “I’m so lucky I’ve got my darling girl.”

He didn’t even need to ask before she started telling him more. She was in her second year of studying history at KLU, a bright student, a sweet and serious girl.

She said Harwin adored her, always had, even once things got serious with Rhaenyra and he started having kids of his own.

“Poor thing,” he said, “this must all be so hard on her.”

“She’s like me,” Alys insisted, finishing off another martini. Her words were starting to slur, but even when she was drunk she did it gracefully. “Nothing phases her.”

He could still remember the smell of her perfume, sweet and citrusy.

Alys’s perfume was dark, bitter and boozy. When he kissed her the taste of her martinis burned on his tongue. Vodka. He was more of a gin man.

Generally he tried to avoid one night stands, but it didn’t take much convincing before he found himself in her hotel room.

He spent the entire night on his back while she edged him relentlessly, with her hands and her mouth, before she finally rode him, whispering praises in his ear as she did it.

He decided it would be bad manners not to text her, so the following Friday night, they went to a steakhouse on Conquest street. It felt more like a business meeting than a date, they talked more about Targ Corp and her plans for her own PR firm. She had the ambition and industry knowledge, but needed the strategy and the connections to make it work.

“You and I could be a match made in heaven,” he said.

She paused midway through a sip of red wine, and raised her eyebrow ever so slightly. “I don’t usually go for younger men,” she said, “but you’re smart and uncomplicated. I think we could work something out.”

The line between business and pleasure was non-existent. They looked over contracts and business plans over coffee, accompanied each other to conferences and fucked in hotel rooms. She was straightforward, blunt at times but he found it impressive and refreshing. He never had to guess what she was thinking because she didn’t see the point in trying to hide behind niceties. Every time he complimented her confidence she said it was “a consequence of age.”

Things moved faster than he realised. Suddenly winter was turning into spring and Alys asked him to work for Rivers PR full time.

He found the wherewithal to tell Alicent and Viserys on a rare occasion that his father actually bothered to eat with them. He tried to be as casual as he could about his sabbatical from Targ Corp. It ended with an explosive row over the dinner table, leaving both Helaena and his mother in tears. Viserys was still shouting from the hallway as he packed an overnight bag and stormed out to his car.

He had to call three times before Aegon finally picked up. “Good for you!” his brother cheered down the end of the phone. “Who would have thought you’d end up like this though? Six months ago you were mum’s favourite son.”

“She just kept telling me I was selfish,” Aemond said, first the Storm’s End contract and now this. “And apparently Rhaenyra’s been up in arms about Alys branching off from Harrenhal, especially with everything that’s going on with Harwin.”

“Will you go to hers then?”

He was already heading towards central. “That’s why I called, I need somewhere to stay, I thought you could put me up for a bit.”

Aegon drew out an exaggerated “uhh,” and Aemond hung up, not in the mood to listen to some long winded excuse.

He gripped the steering wheel as he came to a junction and a sign for Queen’s Park. So much for being “uncomplicated.”

Alys was in a silk robe when she opened the door. “Mummy and daddy kicked you out?” she asked with a pouty frown.

He insisted he had left of his own accord.

It was a beautiful terraced house, plaster fronted, overlooking the park. The interior was understated and elegant, dark wood floors, white walls and bursts of muted greens.

It was quiet too, and the only light came from the kitchen.

“Where’s–”

“She’s out with a few friends,” Alys said.

He followed her through to the kitchen, where she poured out two glasses of wine and he told her everything.

By the time he was done she had finished her glass. She looked into it, like she was surprised to see that it was empty. He hadn’t touched his.

“Are you planning on staying for long?” she asked.

For a moment he felt stupid for coming to her at all. He couldn’t quite figure out what they were to each other, and suddenly he was showing up on her doorstep and using her like a therapist.

“I called Aegon first but I think he’s busy. I can be gone in the morning if you want.”

She took hold of his shoulder, stroking her thumb over the fabric of his shirt. “You can stay as long as you need to.”

He looked at her. He was used to her expression being so smug and severe, but she looked gentle now, her eyes wide and full of pity. When he took a shallow breath he realised she was wearing the same, dark perfume from New Years.

He kissed her slowly, nudging his nose against hers and slipping a hand around her waist to pull her in closer.

She chuckled softly as she pulled away. “I’ll be off early in the morning. Take some time if you need to, sort something out with Aegon or…”

“Right,” he said, swallowing down the lingering taste of red wine from her lips.

They slept in her bed, with their backs to each other.

When he woke in the morning Alys was gone. He checked the time on his phone, 8am, and he had a text from her: Help yourself to coffee. Let me know what your plan is.

He threw on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants before he headed downstairs. He quickly figured out his way around the expensive coffee machine and settled on a stool at the island with a cup of black coffee.

His hands were restless, tapping against the coffee cup and the counter top.

She was in the same house as him, probably sound asleep upstairs, though he hadn’t heard anyone come in during the night. Did she know he was here? She must have seen the car outside, but she wouldn’t know it was his.

He’d hardly even considered the possibility of seeing her again until now, but he hadn’t expected things with to Alys to go this far.

He looked down at his phone. Maybe staying with Alys wasn’t such a good idea. He started typing out a text to Aegon when he heard the door to the kitchen open.

“Hello again.”

She stood in the doorway, squinting her eyes at him, hair loose and tousled, in nothing but an overused Black Sabbath t-shirt that covered the tops of her thighs. She looked a little dishevelled and utterly perfect.

“Hi,” Aemond said, putting his phone down and reaching for his cup. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I got a text from mum. She said she had a guest and I was free to ignore him or kick him out.”

“Have you decided which?”

She huffed a laugh and there was that smile again, though not as wide as it had been that summer. “I felt like being nosy,” she said.

She moved towards the sink and filled a glass of water, which she finished in one go, with a sound of satisfaction. She drew the tip of her tongue between her lips and set the glass on the counter before she turned to look at him again. “So you’re mum’s new boytoy?”

“Is that what she calls me?” he said, trying to play off the tight feeling in his chest with a small smirk.

“She doesn’t call you anything, actually. She’s been going on these little dates, calling them ‘work calls’ and hoping I won’t notice.”

“How do you know they’re not work calls?”

“I wouldn’t have until she brought you home with her.”

“That was my fault…” he looked down at his coffee. He was convinced he could already feel the caffeine buzzing in his fingertips.

“You look different,” she said.

His eyes shot back to her. “How so?”

“Your hair’s longer. It makes you look older.”

He raised an eyebrow and smiled at the way she recoiled into herself.

“I meant it as a compliment, honest.”

She looked different too. Her face hadn’t changed much from what he could remember, but mostly he noticed that she seemed more subdued. Her eyes were set in dark circles and they weren’t as wide, and when she wasn’t speaking her lips fell slightly. She looked older, but then how long had it been since Dragonstone? More than three years, less than four.

She told him where everything was in the kitchen, which he could have figured out himself but he didn’t want to interrupt her. She asked how long he was going to stay and he said until he heard back from Aegon.

That turned out to be a week later, and by then Alys insisted she liked having him around.

Initially he looked at a few rentals, which Alys discouraged and insisted he should buy his own place. Between work and the daily mass of texts he was getting from his siblings about Targ Corp and their parents, he couldn’t find the time to truly consider it.

It was easy to fall into a routine with Alys. She left for work earlier than him so he took his own car every morning. Everyone at the office guessed they were ‘together’ but they kept things professional. If he so much as put a hand on her shoulder she scared him off with a warning look. She always stayed later than him so he’d go back to the house, sort out dinner and have it waiting for when the girls got home.

The girls. He was going domestic.

She only had lectures a few times a week and when she was at home she stayed in her bedroom, only occasionally bringing a book down to the garden or the lounge while he worked in the kitchen. He wondered if she was avoiding him. Considering the awful impression he made at Dragonstone, he didn’t blame her.

But eventually she started to warm up to him. They found some common interests and small talk turned into in-depth discussions of history and politics and their favourite films and albums. She loved Mazzy Star especially. Sometimes, when he had the house to himself, he’d listen through their albums and imagine her listening to the same songs.

He soon learned just how elusive Alys could be. She always had something going on, a work event, a conference or even trips to Pentos with her old uni friends. When she was at home she was usually in the study on the top floor of the house, on a call, looking over contracts or managing some kind of crisis that only she could solve. If he joined her on work trips it was by her invitation.

So he often found himself alone with her. Movie nights became a weekly ritual, usually late in the week, and every week they seemed to sit a little closer to each other than before.

One night she fell asleep against him. His arm was around the back of the sofa and her head gently fell against his chest.

He wasn’t sure what to do, if he should wake her, but she looked so peaceful with her eyes closed, lips parted and breath fluttering down the collar of his t-shirt. Her body was warm and she was wearing that same citrusy perfume.

He wanted to keep her there. He could lie down, hold her in his arms and fall asleep pressed into her back.

Guilt told him otherwise. So he moved away from her, as carefully as he could, and guided her to lie fully on the sofa with a pillow under her head and a blanket draped over her body.

Alys came in from a dinner sometime after 1am and slipped wordlessly into her side of the bed. Within minutes he could hear her gentle snores.

He closed his eyes but he didn’t sleep. All he could think about was her breath on his chest, the way her shorts had ridden up her thighs, and that fucking perfume.

He was probably just tired, getting excited by some old crush which he was way past by now. He was sure he would forget about it by the morning.

If only it had ended there.

By the time spring came around she had warmed up to him. They spent Sunday mornings drinking coffee together in the garden and went for drives out to Blackwater Bay. They had inside jokes and talked about their families. Some nights she’d come crying to him over uni, arguments with her mother and a stupid boy who broke her heart. She was so pretty when she cried.

When she asked him to help her with a particular exam he couldn’t help himself. He noticed everything about their study sessions together, the way she shuddered when he put a hand on her shoulder, the way her breath hitched when he praised her.

His heart swelled when she came home from that exam with a wide smile, throwing herself into his arms and telling him all the details she could remember. Her eyes were so bright and gazing up at him almost adoringly.

He was so happy for her, and so proud.

She didn’t pull away when he kissed her. She met him with soft touches to his neck and a hummed whimper that threatened to spark something primal in him.

They smiled at each other when it was over, until the haze started to wear off. He cleared his throat, and muttered that he still had work to do. She nodded but they kept staring at each other, his hands on her waist and hers drifting down from his neck to his chest.

She was the first to step away. He watched her disappear through the door and wondered how he had managed to make such a mess of his life.

For the entirety of the next week he couldn’t get that muffled whimper out of his head.

Every time he saw her he wanted to drag her into him and kiss her again, harsher, hungrier, with his hands tracing over every inch of her body.

He told himself he was being stupid and he just needed an outlet. For the most part, he and Alys doing well together, but on the few occasions they actually fucked he found the novelty of being beneath her was starting to wear off.

Frustratingly, everything else seemed to be working well for him. He was good at his job; working for Rivers PR was certainly helping to distract him from his family and the company was thriving. He didn’t have to put up with his parents and the Rivers girls seemed happy enough to have him around. The only problem left was him.

In June Alys was accompanying a client on a trip to Dorne, a few days in Salt Shore, Lemonwood and then a week in Sunspear. Aemond wasn’t sure if he was elated or dreading her absence. Every time he’d been around her lately he held his breath, waiting for her to realise something was wrong.

She remained perfectly normal though. Her exams were finished and she had an internship at Lion Publishing lined up for the month of August. In the meantime she was living life as she pleased, lunch dates and picnics in the park with her friends, but she spent a lot of time at home too, mostly reading or writing in a leatherbound notebook.

The kiss was a mistake. A stupid mistake. He kept looking for a chance to talk to her, but decided it might be best until Alys was away.

Alys’ flight was due on a Friday evening and he dropped her off in the afternoon. They sat in silence for most of the journey but silence wasn’t a rarity for them.

When they reached the airport they both went to take the bags out the boot.

“I’m a big girl, I can manage,” she said dryly, but that was just her sense of humour.

“I don’t doubt it,” he said.

She set her suitcase by her side and slipped her arm through her Prada tote bag. “The two of you can look after yourselves well enough,” she said, fussing with the collar of her blouse. “I don’t need to tell you not to answer the door to strangers or anything?”

He smiled unenthusiastically. “No.”

With her eyes one the pavement, she brought her fingers to the styled waves of her hair, bringing a few tresses over her shoulder.

“She’s fond of you,” she said. “I know I can’t always be there for her when she needs me, but I know you helped her with that exam and I appreciate it.” There was no sign of shortness or irritation like there usually was when she spoke about anything remotely personal. She was being sincere and it just made him feel worse.

“Don’t mention it,” he said.

She shrugged her shoulders and the businesswoman was back. “Right then. I’d give you a kiss goodbye but I have lipstick on.”

How devastatingly practical, as always. She threw an arm around his shoulder and he pecked her cheek before she headed for the terminal, quickly and gracefully, heels clicking against the ground.

He had plans to meet Helaena for dinner at a restaurant in central. With her mother out the way, she had invited a few friends to celebrate the end of exams and he figured she’d appreciate the space.

He didn’t realise how much he missed not living with his sister until he saw her. That was the downside of the new circumstances, he never got to see his siblings as much as he wanted to.

Helaena asked him about Alys and her, how they were dealing with Harwin still in the hospital. He told her the truth, they didn’t really talk about it much, but by that point it was a matter of waiting for the inevitable.

Apparently Rhaenyra was a mess. She would be. Her husband was dying, she had three kids to look after and Harrenhal PR was falling to pieces now that Larys was in charge and Alys had poached half of their best clients.

Helaena was exhausted. She was getting ready to start a PhD in Highgarden and she should have been excited, but she hardly had the wherewithal to think about it with Alicent and Viserys’ constant rowing. At least Daeron would be back in a few more days so she wouldn’t be the only child at the house.

“Are you coming to Dragonstone this year?” she asked.

He took a telling breath through his nose and finished off his glass of wine.

“Aemond, please, it won’t be the same without you.”

He scoffed. “No one wants me there.”

She frowned at him with those sad blue eyes of hers. “Don’t say that.”

“Did you know mum hasn’t called me once since I left? It’s been five months. Do you really think I can just show up and we’ll play happy families then go back to hating each other when we get home?”

Her face twisted like she might start crying.

“Sorry I just–” he held his forehead in his hands and dragged them back over his hair. He didn’t want to think about Dragonstone, it just made him think of her.

He felt her hand gently take his wrist and guide it down to the table so she could see his face.

“What’s up with you?” she asked.

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

She raised her eyebrows and hummed like she didn’t believe him.

It wasn’t long after 10pm when he got back to the house. He heard voices and giggles in the front lounge. He walked softly through the hallway and slowed when he came to the door.

“... that’s always been a fantasy of mine.”

“Jo, you’re sick.”

“Oh step-daddy!”

Laughter followed, with a few disbelieving sighs. He recognised her laugh, and made out two other distinct voices. He guessed they hadn’t heard him come in.

“Is he hot though?”

He listened for a reply but she stayed quiet.

“Oh come on! I bet you’ve thought about it.”

“No.” She said it so simply he almost believed her.

He moved through to the kitchen intending to get some water. There were two empty pizza boxes and an assortment of empty wine bottles on the kitchen island. He went to clean them up when the door opened.

“Hi,” she said softly. Her face was dewy and a little flushed. “I didn’t hear the door.”

“I only just got in,” he said, “don’t worry I didn’t hear anything incriminating.”

She tilted her head at him with a slightly dazed smile. She looked gorgeous and the pair of jeans she wore fit her perfectly.

She refilled the glasses from a new bottle and nodded to an empty glass on the counter. “Do you want to join us?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise,” she said.

He followed her through to the lounge, bringing the glass and the bottle with him.

Before he opened the door she leaned into him and whispered, “don’t worry, Margarey has work tomorrow and Jo’s waiting for her boyfriend so they won’t stay long.”

Margaery and Joanna were effortlessly charming but he distrusted them for being law students. They both grinned when he sat on the sofa by the window and were eager to ask him about his time in Oldtown and his job.

Joanna kept glancing over to her, but she remained unphased until Margarey mentioned Targ Corp. Her face slowly fell in irritation. He found it quite endearing.

“So why did you leave?” Joanna asked, “it was something to do with Viserys’ will, right?”

“It’s none of your business, is it?” she said shortly.

Aemond gave her a quick smile to let her know it was alright and she settled back to contentment.

Just as she said, they were both gone before midnight. She saw them to the door and when she came back to the lounge she fell beside him with her legs against his and her head on his shoulder.

“Did you have a nice evening?” he asked. If he turned his head just a little further his lips would brush against her temple.

“Really lovely,” she sighed.

He considered asking about the kiss, but she was definitely tipsy and just sitting with her was too peaceful. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb the moment and the sound of her breathing.

Her fingers began to trace up over the fabric of his shirt, up and down over his stomach and the lines of his abs underneath.

He put his hand over hers to stop her, but somehow it only seemed to spur his own want. He closed his hand around her, tracing his thumb over her knuckles.

She shifted her head so she was looking at him and her breath echoed over his neck.

She leaned in first. Their lips met with gentle grazes, just feeling each other and breathing the same air.

Gradually they deepened their movements. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and he melted at her softness and her warmth. He cupped her jaw to pull her into him despite the gnawing feeling in his chest, like he was getting too close, like he could never get close enough.

She started to move and he tried to keep hold of her, expecting her to slip from his grasp, until he felt her weight on his lap. She straddled him, wrapping her hands around the sides of his neck and threading her fingers through his hair. She gave him another dazed little smile before she continued to kiss him fiercely, desperately.

It was a bad idea. It was such a bad idea, but for now he would take the guilt if he got to feel her like this, her lips trailing along his jaw and down his neck, her heavy breaths and whimpers as she started to rock her hips against him.

He reached to take hold of her hips, moving with her at first before he set a new, steadier pace, dragging her against the tightening bulge in his jeans. “You alright there, pet?” he hummed.

She nudged her forehead against his. “Please can you just…” her eyes followed her hands as she propped herself against his chest.

“What do you want, baby?” he whispered.

She let out a whine that went straight to his cock.

“Come on,” he hissed, “talk to me.”

She clenched her fists to tug at his shirt. “I want you,” she breathed.

He strained an exhale as he tried to stop his hips from bucking into her. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said with a groan, but he was already trying to rationalise it.

She could be the outlet, just once, just to get it out of his system.

“No it’s not, but I still want you,” she said.

Or maybe it didn’t have to be about him. He could just give her what she needed.

“Please,” she whined trying to fight against his hold on her hips, “I want you so bad, it fucking hurts.”

“Oh you poor thing,” he cooed, moving his face down to tease the skin of her throat with his lips and tongue.

He knew they were on the cusp of something dangerous and damning, but it was her, the girl from that summer, the girl with the pretty smile and the curious look in her eyes, Alys’ daughter.

When he looked up to her face her eyes were wide and pleading.

Maybe he felt he owed it to a younger version of himself, or maybe it was the wine he’d had at the restaurant but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the consequences.

He pressed his palm against her stomach, feeling her body tremble and her quick, shallow breaths. He trailed lower to undo the buttons on her jeans. “Take these off for me,” he muttered.

She didn’t hesitate to follow his instruction. She drew the jeans down her legs, leaving her in her top and a black thong. He told her to straddle him again, which she did.

With firm but gentle hands he felt along the bare flesh of her thighs and her ass, positioning her over his thigh. He pulled the thong against her until she was squirming and trying to rut against his jeans.

He chuckled softly to himself and held her waist tightly to keep her still, and she followed the silent instruction so well. She was panting, leaning in closer to him, but waiting for his lead. He was slightly scared of how much he loved it.

He brought his hand to her cheek, stroking and toying with her bottom lip. “Do you want to be good for me?” he whispered.

She hummed her agreement.

“Fuck yourself against my thigh, pretty girl, show me how desperate you are.”

With a small nod she started to move, letting out little moans when her clothed clit rolled against his leg.

He kept her movements slow, even when she tried to fight against him and go faster.

“No,” he said, “be a good girl for me, do as you’re told.”

The pace was agonising for her, eyes screwed shut and jaw hung open as her hands got restless, running over his jaw, his neck and into his hair.

He kept her steady and pressed her down against his jeans with each drag of her hips, playing with the change in pressure and smiling at the way it made her whine and her eyes water.

“Aemond… I need more…”

He still kept the movements nice and slow. “Just let it happen– there you go, good fucking girl.”

She didn’t hold back her moans as her climax hit her, tensing hard and falling into him. He kept her moving through it, until her thighs were shaking and she begged him to stop.

He was sure he’d never been so hard in his life, but he held her there, breathing in the smell of her hair and her perfume.

Then he brought her away from him so he could see her face, beautifully blissed out. There was that light, hopeful feeling in his chest, but it was starting to crumble under the realisation of what they’d done.

“Is that actually a thing, the step-daddy thing?” he asked.

She huffed a breathy laugh. “According to Jo it is. Why, do you want me to call you daddy?”

He wouldn’t admit it then, but he liked the way it sounded coming from her.

General Taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy

Series Taglist: @marthawrites @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aaaaaamond @boundlessfantasy @sahvlran @tinykryptonitewerewolf @arcielee @tssf-imagines @aemondsfavouritebastard @skikikikiikhhjuuh @queenofshinigamis @lost-and-founds @izzydlb @dc-marvel-girl96 @xcinnamonmalfoyx @padfooteyes @castellomargot @pet1t3 @okfashionista @khaothick

#my fics #aemond targaryen #aemond x original female character #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #modern!aemond #modern au #house of the dragon fanfiction #stepdad!aemond #my heart belongs to daddy

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