#Am I little bitter about there not being enough gifs of this man?

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Everywhere is good but home is..." - Mihawk x Reader

@thetempleofthemasaigoddess wondered why Mihawk doesn't quite get along with his mother-in-law and who am I to keep such secrets to myself?

SUMMARY: Mihawk is not exactly fond of his in-laws. Nevertheless, he compliantly tags along whenever you pay your parents a visit. If it makes you happy, he's willing to bite his tongue. For a day, at least.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.6k

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Imagine, if you will, an angry boar. A large, stout boar with birse as dark as the night sky. As boars do, it will gore with its tusks to let out the frustration and get rid of whatever it was that made the animal seethe. Now, if you take away its tusks, what can it do? Angrily dig for truffles? 

Or maybe stand beside you, a scowl on his face and a begrudging “I am fine” every time you ask about the bitter expression?

Mihawk doesn’t like visiting your parents. It’s the sickeningly sweet familial atmosphere that suffocates him. Don’t misunderstand - he’s fond of the thought of having a family with you but the aura of your childhood home is a little too… overwhelming for him. A little too picture-perfect. But being the man he is, Mihawk has never outright talked about his dislike because he’s aware of how much that would hurt you. Still, you know your husband a little too well to disregard his sighs and frowns. This piece of secret knowledge always makes you love him more - he’s willing to suffer for a day or two just to make you happy. If it’s not love, what else could it be?

The farmhouse looks different than it did last year when you visited: the roof tiles have been changed, the outside of the building has been repainted and even some of the fence surrounding the land is new. Clearly, your parents have been busy with their retirement.

Despite the irate expression on his face, Mihawk silently overtakes you and opens the shabby wicket gate to let you enter first. He gives you a questioning look when you suddenly stop.

“It’s going to be fine, Mihawk,” you reassure him.

“So you’ve been saying, darling.”

Comforting warmth spreads inside his chest as you smile at him and kiss his cheek. He turns his head, hoping to catch your lips but you’re already on your way to the older man raking leaves in the distance. Mihawk clenches his jaw and lets out an exasperated sigh. With a loud bang, he closes the gate behind him. He follows you in slow steps, naively putting off the fateful moment of meeting your family.

Walking down the path leading to the farmhouse and the fields behind it, Mihawk looks around the desolate landscape. It’s quaint, he thinks to himself. Tall trees sway on the chilly, autumn wind. Right above their peaks, although far away, are mountains with their tops covered in snow. Uncut grass brushes against his clothes. A flock of cranes flies high in the sky, disappearing and reappearing as they fly through grey clouds. Their key is directed south, towards warmth that will shield them from winter snow. The area is a bit too colourful and bright for his liking but with a nice “please” from you, Mihawk could see himself settling down in a place like this.

Dracule just comes into earshot and has the displeasure of hearing your father yelling:

“Pumpkin!” The older man’s voice is filled with excitement. He lets go of the rake, letting it fall on the ground. Despite his age and clear exhaustion from the work, he wraps his arms around you and hugs you almost to death. “Honey, come out!” he shouts towards the farmhouse. “It’s Pumpkin!”

Mihawk almost can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. You’re a grown woman, married at that, and they still call you by a nickname they had come up with while you were still in diapers. ‘When I asked where children came from, they told me that they found me between pumpkins in their field,’ you once explained to him.

The door to the building flies open. Soon enough, your mother is running to you. Her greying hair is braided into a plait. She’s wearing an apron with traditional patterns hand-stitched into it. Half of the motif had been done by a skilled hand, stitched with precision and perfection. The other part, however, is a lot more crooked and amateurish, probably done by a child’s hand. Your hand.

Tears glisten in your mother's eyes. Despite her older age, there’s vigour and youth inside those irises - a certain love for life that you’ve taken after her. She quickly wipes her hands on the apron and hugs you.

“Oh, Pumpkin!” A stray tear leaves her eye. “I haven’t seen you in ages! You could have said you’re visiting.”

“You’ve always loved surprises, mum.”

She lets go of you and redirects her attention to Mihawk. Her face lights up as though he’s her own son, beaming with love and pride. To his absolute horror, your mother puts her hands on the sides of his face. He almost pulls away to avoid the unwanted affections.

“Sweetie, you look handsome as ever!” she exclaims. Her expression falls as she looks him up and down. “But you’re a bit thin, aren’t you? And that open shirt, tsk. Winter is coming, sweetheart, you’ll catch pneumonia if you don’t cover up.”

“Delighted to see you again, ma’am,” Mihawk lies through his teeth. To some degree, you’re impressed with how honest he sounds.

"Oh, sweetheart, I told you to just call me mum!” She laughs. “We're family now."

You can see the relief in Mihawk’s eyes as your mother lets go of him. Some part of you wants to burst with laughter as you recall countless moments when you’re the one cradling his face and Dracule is more than overjoyed with the tender touch. It feels like there’s something beyond special about you, that he welcomes such intimate things. Although, truth be told, when it’s your hands on his face, you usually lean in to kiss him and that’s definitely not something he wants to think about while standing in front of your mother.

“He’s a grown man, honey.” Your father nags at his wife. He waves his hand in a dismissing manner. “Leave him be.” Mihawk’s terror returns when a heavy hand reaches for his shoulder. “Come, son, you’ll chop some wood for the night. I’m too old for this. The last time I tried chopping firewood, I got sciatica.”

“Pleased to help,” Dracule drones his words. He gives you a glance like a silent plead ‘Look what I do for you’. Then, he follows your father further into the garden.

You feel your mother put her arm around your shoulder. “Boys are off to have fun and we have a dinner to make.”

Something inside you stirs with excitement - cooking and baking used to be your bonding activities with your mum. Since you’ve married Mihawk, you’re not allowed to do any housework. Everything is taken care of by servants. You find that you’ve grown to miss the rhythm of mundane life, although it would be a lie if you said that you dislike the life you have with Mihawk. It’s just… different.

The sound of pots, pans and knives hitting the cutting boards is like a symphony to your ears. An aria to your childhood. If you closed your eyes, you could almost see the world as it used to be, your eyes right below the level of the countertops, always standing on a stool to help your mother.

But the thoughts of your younger years dissipate as you stare out of the kitchen window. You have the perfect view of your husband chopping firewood with your father raking leaves in the back. Mihawk’s skin glistens in the afternoon, autumn sun. There’s not a bead of sweat on his torso. He appears completely relaxed as he swings the axe with one hand. Some logs are already cracked or particularly dry and those he rips apart with his bare hands. Those same hands that tear pieces of wood into matches have caressed your skin with almost fearful softness; the arms that bring destruction have tirelessly shielded you from the dangers of the world. 

Your dad looks over his shoulder at the pile of firewood with a nod of awe. If Mihawk keeps up his tempo, he’ll prepare enough fuel for the next week.

“You remind me of your dad and me when we were younger.” Your mother’s face shakes you awake from your thoughts. Suddenly remembering that you were supposed to be helping her, you look down at the awfully chopped carrots. At least you didn’t cut off your finger. “Always stealing glances as though we weren’t already married.”

A sigh of yearning leaves your lips. What did you do in your past life to deserve a man like him?

“Dad still looks at you in an uncomfortably intense way,” you answer, a smile on your lips.

Your mother’s laughter brightens up the small, crowded kitchen. It’s not hard to correctly guess what your dad saw in her that made him want to spend his life with that woman. “He does the same when you’re not looking,” she says while vaguely pointing at Mihawk.

Her words make you blush. A deep shade of red covers your cheeks, making your whole face hot to the touch. “What do you mean?”

She looks at you with sympathy. “I saw it the day you introduced him to us. And each time you come over, he seems to be a little worse in his affliction, staring at you like you’re the one who hung stars in the sky. It made your grandma remind her of grandad so much, that she cried at your wedding.”

Listening to her, your longing gaze returns to Mihawk who appears oblivious to your undivided interest in him. “Mum, does it ever get boring?” you ask without looking away. “The sense of calm when you’re around him. Like everything could be ruined but it’s fine because he’s there.”

“It’s the only thing in the world that never gets tiring.” A flustered, juvenile smile decorates her face. Even with wrinkles and greying hair, she looks barely older than you at the moment, reliving the flame of love inside her that has never dwindled. “Now, let’s finish with the sentiments and stuff the duck, eh?”

Mihawk is reaching for another log when something makes him momentarily freeze. There, in front of the stump he’s been chopping wood on, sits a dog. It’s clearly a mutt, each feature taken from a different breed. The fur is an amalgamation of markings in different colours: orange, grey, white and black. As the dog notices Mihawk’s interest, it gets up, restlessly stomping in place or rather hopping as the pet is missing one of its hind legs.

“Gulliver,” Dracule recalls the name of the mutt you’ve told him so much about. Your first and only friend growing up in the countryside.

The name is taken as an invite and so the dog places a drool-covered, chewed-out ball next to the piece of firewood. The pet sits again, tail wagging as fast as it can.

For a moment, Mihawk is torn. He wants the dog to leave him be but that would mean he has to put his hand on the slimy toy. Then again, the pet is sure to continue disturbing him now that he has acknowledged its existence.

Cringing at the wet and warm sensation of the ball, Dracule picks it up, only furthering Gulliver’s excitement.

"This means nothing," he drones his words and throws the toy so far it almost disappears from sight. The dog, overjoyed, runs after the ball. 

Considering that your dad’s throw has gotten weaker with age, Mihawk might have dug his own grave with the distance he made the ball fly. Gulliver will probably want another run. Or ten.

For a moment, Mihawk goes back to the fantasy of settling down with you in a mountainous wonderland. Maybe you could have a dog too? Not a mutt but a hunting hound? They look very noble.

But he shakes those thoughts away and continues chopping wood.

The dinner went well. Homemade food, family you haven’t seen in a year, the cosy and sentimental atmosphere of your childhood home… And Mihawk didn’t look as miserable as he probably felt. Although you’re enjoying this little family reunion, you seize the opportunity for solitude when it arises:

Your parents go to the kitchen to put away the dirty dishes, plate the dessert and brew some tea. Tugging on Mihawk’s arm, you pull him outside the house.

The old flooring of the porch creaks under your weight. A bright, melodic tune is carried by the wind as it brushes against the chimes hanging under the roof. The sun has recently set and the sky is still in a lovely, indigo shade. Birds croak in the distance, announcing nightfall.

His warm hand rests on your lower back. The touch makes you momentarily take a deep, relaxing breath. Your thoughts become both orderly and fuzzy as though Mihawk’s presence turned all of your wandering, useless ideas into static you can easily ignore. How can a person have so much control over you? 

Mihawk is towering over you. He tilts his head downwards to look at you. Something about his looming aura makes you feel not only protected but also well-cared-for, as though you could give yourself up to him completely and you’d still live like a queen in a castle.

“If you keep frowning, your face will stay like that,” you say to him.

Mihawk’s expression relaxes at the mere mention of his visibly bitter mood. Or maybe it softens because he’s looking at you. “I was under the impression that you’re rather fond of my face.”

“And you’d be correct. But I do have to say that seeing you tear wood apart was much better.”

You lean closer to him as you put your arms around his neck. He welcomes the gesture, allowing his hands to travel an inch or two downwards, a little too low for when one is in the vicinity of others. Especially someone’s parents.

“So my wife likes to see me do manual labour,” he states, his warm breath brushing against your cold cheeks. There’s no surprise in his voice and there shouldn’t be. He’s noticed the way you look at him when he wields a sword and Mihawk would be an awful liar if he said he doesn’t enjoy those glances.

“I like seeing you, full stop. Chopping wood is just a nice variation to the scenario. Strong arms and all that.”

The said arms pull you by your hips into a kiss. Although he’s spent only a day in this part of the region, he already smells like fresh mountain air and pine needles. Mihawk groans, feeling the curves of your body against his. He will never get enough of this. Enough of you.

“Tea is served!”

Your mother’s exclamation makes you pull away from Mihawk. He instinctively chases after your lips before letting out an annoyed sigh. A chuckle rumbles in your chest. Dracule rolls his eyes but lets you thread your fingers with his and pull him back inside the farmhouse. There, you interrupt an interesting conversation:

“Darling, when’s the cake tasting again?” your father asks while flipping through the calendar, a pencil in his hand.

“On the 25th, honey,” she answers. The dining room is immediately filled with the aroma of bergamot as your mother pours the tea. “At 6 in the afternoon.”

“Cake tasting?” you repeat in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“Our golden wedding, of course!” the older woman beams with joy. “We’ve yet to send out the invitations, though, so don’t tell anyone. Especially your aunt. Gods know she runs her mouth like it’s a marathon.”

As though you’re thinking the same thing, Mihawk and you glance at each other. The miserable, irate expression in his eyes elicits a burst of bright laughter from you. He just can’t catch a break, can he?

#mihawk fanfiction #mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk one piece #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #op mihawk #dracule mihawk fanfiction #dracule mihawk fanfic #dracule mihawk x reader #one piece #opla #one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece fanfic #one piece imagine #one piece live action #one piece netflix

[joelsgreys]

not a thing

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

part ii

summary: You and Joel had a private moment while Ellie was asleep. Or so you’d thought she was asleep.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. implied smut, but no actual smut. grumpy Joel, Ellie is a little shit.

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n: nervous to write for TLOU but still giving it a shot! poor Ellie for being subjected to what i am about to subject her to lol. Edit: holy shit, i did not expect this to get much attention. thank you all sm for reading, liking and reblogging!

It had been an incredibly stupid thing to do.

So, so, so fucking stupid.

You knew that.

And Joel knew that.

You two were supposed to have been standing watch.

Not to mention, there had been a teenaged girl sleeping close by, just mere fucking yards away from the two of you had been—

Jesus Christ.

Dammit, you and Joel fucking knew better than to be this goddamn stupid.

Careless.

But neither of you could help yourselves.

It had been several weeks—actually, it had been several months since you two had been able to steal a private moment for yourselves. That moment would have been missed had you not somehow woken up in the middle of the night, only to find Joel wide awake, his rifle in hand as he stood watch while you and Ellie had slept. You’d offered to take his place for a few hours so he could get some rest too, but instead, a few minutes and many, many desperate, feverish kisses later, the two of you found yourselves on the other side of Bill’s old white and blue Chevrolet pickup truck, Joel’s jeans unzipped and your own jeans pulled down around your knees along with your underwear. He’d had you bent over, but still standing at a point where you could peek over the bed of the truck so that you could somehow keep a watchful eye out in between the moments of mind-numbing pleasure—both for any signs of potential danger and also for Ellie, who was passed out, curled up into a little ball in her sleeping bag and completely unaware of what her two reluctant protectors were doing behind the vehicle right next to her.

Your bottom lip was busted, bruised from biting down on it so hard.

The deal had been no noise, not even a single whimper, although you couldn’t remember how well either of you had stuck to that rule in the heat of the moment. It had been a quick fuck, just enough to give you and Joel some much needed relief from all of those pent up stresses and frustrations you two were carrying on your shoulders since Ellie had entered your lives just the week before. And just like back in the Boston QZ, Joel said nothing to you once it was over and done with.

It never hurt your feelings. It was just how things were.

It was some sort of twisted, fucked up unspoken pact the two of you had. 

Joel Miller fucked you, and then he just pretended like nothing ever happened, not until the next time he found himself buried inside of you.

It’s not like you expected Joel to return your feelings.

Hell, you weren’t even sure the man knew how to feel anything but anger, bitterness, and violence. 

Afterwards, Joel took you up on your offer to keep watch and slept for a couple of hours until sunrise came and had you both moving, packing up the truck and getting ready to continue the long drive ahead to Wyoming.

“She’s been oddly quiet,” Joel mumbled to you as he packed up the remnants of the small campsite into the bed of the pickup truck. “Go check on her.”

Obediently, you nodded and dropped the sleeping bag in your hands before turning away and walking over to where Ellie was sitting cross legged on the ground, her fingers mindlessly fiddling with a small, broken tree branch on the ground. “Hey,” you offered her a small smile. “It’s almost time to get going. You doing alright over here?”

She looked up at you and gave you a small nod. “Yeah. Just cold as fuck since we can’t have a fucking fire going,” she said, tossing a tiny glare over in Joel’s direction. “But other than that? I’m just fucking peachy.”

You chuckled and shrugged out of your worn out, brown windbreaker jacket. You draped it over Ellie’s shoulders before taking a seat beside her on the ground. She may have been a thorn in Joel’s side—then again, who wasn’t a thorn in Joel Miller’s side—but you’d warmed up to her fairly quickly. A lot quicker than your partner, anyway. He was still a work in progress.

“Did you sleep okay?”

Ellie nodded, clutching your jacket close. “Kinda,” she shrugged her small shoulders. “The ground was really hard and uncomfortable. I woke up a couple of times throughout the night and had trouble falling back asleep.”

Your smile faded ever so slightly. “Oh? You did?”

Noticing the sudden change in your demeanor, a small smirk crossed the girl’s face. “I knew you and McGrumps over there were a thing.”

You nearly choked on your own saliva as you nervously sputtered out, “W-What the hell are you talking about?”

Ellie raised an eyebrow at you, shooting you a knowing look as her smirk widened.

Oh for fuck’s sake. Ellie had caught you and Joel while you two were—fucking?

Mortified did not even come close to cutting it.

“Oh god,” You muttered, your face on fire. 

“I really hope you two are being smart and using protection,” she added teasingly. “What’s that saying? Wrap it before you tap it?”

“Ellie!” You hissed, glancing over your shoulder. Joel went about his business and it was times like these where you were actually thankful that his hearing wasn’t what it used to be. You turned back to her and quickly started trying to explain yourself. “Ellie, I don’t know what you think you saw but—”

“Oh, it was too dark to see anything. I heard you guys.” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “Back behind the truck.” She paused, thoroughly enjoying every single moment of complete and utter discomfort she was causing you. “You know, if that’s gonna keep happening, I’m really gonna need you guys to find me a Walkman with some headphones. Noise cancelling headphones, please and thank you.”

You dropped your head into your hands and anxiously rubbed your face with your palms. “Fuck. I’m really sorry, Ellie,” Was all that you could say.

What else could you say?

Sorry you had to hear me getting fucked by my partner while you were laying just feet away in your sleeping bag?

“Sorry for what? For not being able to keep it in your pants?” Ellie giggled, slapping your knee with her hand in an attempt to get you to lighten up. “I get it. Nature. Hormones. Biology and shit.”

You lifted your face from your hands. “Joel can’t know,” You warned her. “Or he won’t be able to look you or me in the eye ever again.”

Ellie groaned in exaggeration, throwing her head back. “Aw, come on! I really wanted to see him squirm.”

“Me squirming should be fucking enough you little shit,” You laughed, shoving her playfully with your elbow. Once both of your giggles had subsided, in a more serious tone, you told her, “And for the record, we are not a thing.”

Ellie stared at you in disbelief. “Get out of here, you lying sack of shit! You totally are!”

“I know it’s hard to understand. But just because two people—” You trailed off, trying to choose your words carefully. It was more often than not that you had to remind yourself that despite what Ellie had been through and all she had seen, she was still fourteen. A fucking child.

“Bump uglies?” she suggested, wiggling her eyebrows.

You sighed. “Jesus Christ, please don’t ever fucking say that out loud again.” You paused briefly, running a hand through your hair. “But yes. Just because two people do what he and I were doing, that doesn’t mean anything. For a lot of people, it can be quite meaningless actually. It does not mean they are a thing. Me and Joel? Not a thing. Understood?”

Ellie blinked. “That’s probably the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard. Even before last night, I knew you two were a thing. Whether either of you admit it or not. I can tell.”

You knew better than to play into what she was saying, but the sheer curiosity got the better of you.

What had Ellie noticed about you and Joel?

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged, bringing her knees up to her chest. “I dunno. The way you look at him. The way he looks at you. He’s a guy who doesn’t seem to give a shit about too many things or too many people. But I know he does give a shit about you. He cares about you. Even if he might have a shitty ass way of showing it.”

You glanced back over at Joel and then back at Ellie, confused.

“And you can deny it all you want. But if there’s one thing that stone cold asshole cares about, it’s definitely you,” Ellie stated firmly.

Your mouth fell open slightly, unsure what to say to her.

“What the hell are you two yappin’ about over there?” Joel called, looking over his shoulder.

“Nothing!” Ellie practically sang, causing him to roll his eyes and turn his attention back to his task.

“Well then, get off your asses and let’s get a fuckin’ move on. Ain’t got time to waste.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us imagine #joel miller imagine #perdo pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou imagine #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction

[halbravd]

jealousy jealousy // aib.

summary: in which they are getting jealous because you’re super invested in a conversation you have with an other guy.

characters: chishiya shuntaro, ryohei arisu, niragi suguru, sunato banda.

content warning: mentions of sexual intercourses, niragi deserves his own trigger warning.

⪧ chishiya shuntaro,

chishiya is petty as fuck. he won’t confront you and ask you what’s going on, but will definitely be that one overthinking guy wondering if he ever did something wrong to you in the first place (yes, he takes it very personally). but then, he would turn into the pettiest little shit ever: sitting on the last chair available so you’d have no choice but to sit on his laps, getting super close to you and the guy you’re chatting with and saying something like ‘am i interrupting something?’, or even worse — giving you the silent treatment. and if at first you don’t really understand why he’s being like this, you’re quick to get the few hints left behind him. when you ask him if he’s jealous, he’d definitely try to play it cool and deny it at first, but would eventually give up when you kiss the tip of his nose while reminding him he’s the only one you love in this entire world.

⪧ niragi suguru,

niragi doesn’t know how to use his words so he’d most likely go full beast mode and start punching the poor dude without trying to understand what’s going on. it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, but his fear of not being good enough will always taunt him — the inferiority complex he’s faced while getting bullied so harshly in the real world never left him, and he can’t control the hatred and anger rushing through his veins anytime he feels threatened by an other man. it would take a huge amount of time (and we’re talking about hours here) for him to realize it was just a misunderstanding, but you’ll have to go through so many emotions from fear to pain to relief when he finally realizes you're all his.

⪧ ryohei arisu,

arisu is a clueless dude so he wouldn’t even get jealous in the first place — you’re chatting with a guy? good for you, socializing is important, just as much as keeping your personal space. but if the guy starts to be a little bit clingy, he’d definitely step in and gently ask you if he can talk to you; don’t get him wrong it’s his only way out and he won’t even talk about that dude’s behavior to you anyway, but he definitely can’t stand that situation anymore. arisu isn’t an overly protective lover at all and gives you all the freedom you could dream of, but it ends when a guy he doesn’t even know starts touching you like he's been knowing you for years.

⪧ sunato banda,

banda wouldn’t take that shit at all. but it’s all about getting his personal revenge, so he’ll get right behind you, his hands grabbing your hips, a soft smile stretching his lips. ‘i’m borrowing this cutie from you for a while, we’ll be right back.’ he’d drag you to the nearest empty spot / room before fucking his jealousy and bitterness out of you, his fingers wrapped tightly around your throat and his eyes focused on your fucked out face. he would then send you back to the guy still waiting for you, stealing your panties and shoving it into his pocket as he watches you struggling to walk back. he can’t help but smirk at the sight of you rubbing your thighs against each other, hopelessly trying to keep his cum inside your hole and preventing it from dripping. 

this was requested by anon; hope you like it!!

#alice in boderland x reader #chishiya x reader #niragi x reader #arisu x reader #banda x reader #sunato banda x reader #arisu ryohei x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader #niragi suguru x reader

[themotherofblood]

Prologue . 1 | RIVER OF FIRE | THE LADY | D.T x R.T x READER

series masterlist | main masterlist

~ where ever you stray, I’d follow. Begging for you to take my hand ~

“Rhaenyra? Rhaenyra… she is the gust of spring air after a bitter winter. She is a child’s first laughter. She is my knight. Our days spent climbing trees and visiting Aemma. Rhaenyra insisted that Syrax is finally large enough to saddle two but I refused her, what if I fell? I am a little too young and too pretty to die just yet. But too Rhaenyra, she is my happiness and I her lady.”

The summer of one hundred and ten years after Aegon's Conquest, you'd remembered the days to be so vibrant. That was your fifth year at Kings Landing, and the second year since the fourteenth day of the fifth moon since you had realized you held passions for Rhaenyra Targaryen.

There was a true sense of sisterhood between Laena, Alicent, Rhaenyra and you. The little ladies that ran the Red Keep a muck, the hordes of giggles and dozens of fabrics that followed everywhere you went. Alicent and Rhaenyra, the older girls of four and ten, Laena and you were two and ten finding yourself in a closer bind of sisterhood, that and your shared love for exotic fauna.

Your fingers had been deep in dirt, planting away yet another exotic seed that Lord Corlys procured for you and Laena, they never understood how you managed to grow them but you did. They thrived in the summer months, while your hands mindlessly packed soil, and your eyes remained on Rhaenyra as she rested her head in Alicent's lap. You couldn't quite decipher the stinging burn in your chest as you watched Alicent twirl Rhae's silver locks in her fingers.

Laena was a silently observant person, she looked between your eye line before dragging you to lay in between the blossomed flower beds. "I wrote for my brother yesterday, demands of sweets and sieges of poetry were demanded of," you told Laena, truly trying to distract yourself. Laena giggled as she shook her head. The softness of her voice echoed with chirps of hummingbirds, the sun crisp against her skin just as it shimmered against yours.

"Silk and gold threads from Lys, and more shells. Father promised me more." Laena continued as she toyed with her sea blue sleeves. "And thanked him on your behalf for the seeds."

Even as you remained deep in conversation with your companion, your eyes held an envious gaze toward Alicent; you hated feeling this way. She was your friend too, you were all friends with each other and yet this unfamiliar feeling gnawed at your insides for over a year. You giggled and chuckled along at all the court gossip of the older ladies being wed and betrothed to the knights of their dreams.

"Lady Laena," Daemon called out from behind you as you shot up to look at him. This man intimidated you to your core and yet provided you with the wisest of wisdom. "Your mother calls for you," he gestured at Laena. She wished you farewell before running off, you shuffled up awkwardly, unaware of what to do, so you turned your eyes to Rhaenyra and she was still too engrossed with Alicent. Your envious gaze bore holes into the brunette girl; you were meant to be friends but you simply couldn't help yourself.

"You ought to look harder, you might envision an arrow in her head." Daemon mused at your glare, you scowled at him and got up. Shrugging your skirts free of dirt and grass.

"You may jest at court all you like, leave me out of it my prince," you looked up at him with a scowl, lip jutted out as your returned to watching Rhaenyra enviously.

"Ah- I humbly apologise princess," he bit his lip from chuckling further at your frustrations, he held your upper arm to stop you from running away.

"How about you join me for a walk? The day is far too beautiful to be wasted," he offered, extending his arm out of you to take. You looked once more to Rhaenyra lounging with Alicent and then you agreed. You didn't want to be alone at that moment. You walked with him in the royal gardens, nobody questioned anything. He was a frequent visitor to his brother's daughter and you. You had found a quiet corner to lay flat on the grass again as Daemon nursed on a flask of...wine.

He offered you some, which you immediately spit out over the bitter taste making him laugh even louder. "Blegh...," you shivered the taste away "what is that?"

The corners of Daemon's eyes crinkled, "moonshine," he shrugged taking two swigs before putting the flash away.

"It's disgusting, death," you coughed getting the burn away from your throat.

"How is your, city watching going," you began an awkward conversation, fully aware that he was about to question you about your sour behaviour today.

"The heathens of King's Landing ought to fear the colour gold from now on," he stated, looking to the skies. There was an odd moment of silence before he spoke up again. "Perhaps Viserys would send out less of an army every time you princesses visited."

"What were the daggers for? Alicent stole your pretty doll or something," he quirked his brow at you, in truth he was concerned that you might have pounced onto Otto Hightower's spawn, having a history of brawling with young lasses at court who dared to test your patience; he hoped you'd fess up. You shook your head to disagree.

"She would never steal my dolls, she has plenty of her own," you stated, ripping at the grass next to you. Pulling them through one by one as a frown pulled over your forehead once more. The image unwavering within your mind, Alicent asking- no, demanding Nyra's attention from dawn to dusk. Yet today they wore matching coloured gown, Nyra wore matching gowns with you, not Alicent. The portrait a bitter taste in your mouth, how do you explain that to a prince notorious for being wild, unchained.

"So you admit, scary little Dornish princess does play with dolls," he teased, referring to the rude remarks that never seemed to stop at court about you.

"What did you expect? That I play with human skulls?" you scoffed, pouting and looking even more upset. The balls of grad that filled your small fists, you lurched at Daemon and then finally caved. "Rhaenyra seems to enjoy Alicent's company more than mine."

"Well," Daemon began, the thoughts swirling in his head projecting across his face "they are friends, and so are you...?" He pushed along, clearly another motive lingering at his tongue.

"Yes we are- we are just friends," you hesitated to elaborate further, afraid you wouldn't find the weight words to profess what you felt.

"Not very ladylike to lie is it, princess?" He cock his brow up, accusing you to weasel your confession out of you.

"We are more than friends I think, more than sisters." You confessed, tethering yourself to the edge of the truth.

"Ah," Daemon let out a knowing sigh "Young love."

"It's wrong," you hissed "It is love, however." you tutted, shaking your head for having these thought, your mind yet agains filling with the image of curt Septa Marlow with a cane in her hand. Death, that's what such thought entail by the Seven.

"Would you be happier if you told her, having a partner is a blessing," he smiled, honestly happy about what you felt for his niece, there wasn't a moment where Daemon wished not to thrive within the mess that was his family, but something so pure and confused sat by his feet. Finding remorse in his heart for both girl, perhaps they would taste the choice he never got should Daemon be King someday as his brother's heir.

"You have a partner, are you happy?" clearly toying with his disdained marriage, he scowled at you. "You spend the better part of the year with us and the rest with your paramour."

"Where have you heard of my paramour?" Daemon let out a questioning scoff, pondering on where might the little princesses had managed to hear of his whore mongering habits.

"Lord Hand may have mentioned something at supper," you shrugged, "The Mother better not provide me with a husband like you, I might lose my mind."

"You are two and ten, what do you know of love." He japed throwing the grass you threw at him back.

"More than you, the writers are better at professing love than you my prince. Perhaps I could lend you a book." You teased back.

"Perhaps you could," He chortled, leaning back against the tea bark.

"You should bring Lady Rhea a cat, perhaps a white one." You offered, genuine advice, everyone loved cats; apart from Queen Aemma, they made her sneeze like a mad woman. "She'd be more agreeable."

Damon laughed, "She may actually poison the poor thing."

You never understood why Daemon was so open to half the things you and Rhaenyra hurled at him. Young ladies often confessed to their septas but you were sure she would have painted your palms red with a cane if you confessed that you loved a girl. The more your head toiled with those immoral questions, you grew silent once more.

"Apart from your lady wife; had you ever found love?" You asked him out of sheer curiosity.

"You are far too young to worry about such things little princess." He said while shaking his head, his eyes soft as he tried to find a solution to your juvenile problems. "Perhaps if you do want to confess your love, you ought to kiss her."

You shot up straight, looking at him confused "What if do and then I'm with a babe- I don't want a babe; I'd be ruined!" You hissed

Daemon slapped his palm on his forehead "Who has told you of such falsehoods?"

"Septa Marlow did." Your mind began wondering, what would Rhaenyra's babes look like...

"Demented hag," He muttered under his breath "I can assure you, princess, one does not come with a child from a kiss; if that were so. King's Landing would be swarming with my bastards."

"Oh- so I can kiss her?" You blushed, and a new hope flared in your chest.

"Yes, as much as you like." He smiled at your excitement.

"Your grace," A servant girl bowed as she entered the gardens "Dinner has been served in his grace's solar."

Daemon escorted you to his brother's solar, Viserys was already in his seat with Aemma. Just as their family poured into his solar, Aemma's face lit up. You moved around the table, bowing to Viserys before pressing a kiss on Aemma's cheek before sitting down next to her. Her mothering began the second she saw you, tutting at stray pieces of grass tangled in your hair.

"How are feeling today, your grace." You questioned about her condition, yet another pregnancy that she announced four moons before and since then her face began paling, she couldn't join you in the Godswood to help you garden your plants.

"Better, the babe should begin kicking soon enough." She said as she rubbed her belly.

"The boy shall add another to your army I reckon," Viserys japed, letting out a fatherly chuckle along with Daemon.

The doors creaked open when Rhaenyra finally arrived, she too pressed a kiss to her mother and then her father's cheek before sitting herself across from you. "Forgive me, I was carried away with Alicent."

You wanted to scream at the back of your mouth, you didn't want to feel this way. Alicent was your friend, you were a good girl and not a bully. You were being cruel to her in your head but you couldn't stand how much time Alicent was taking away from Rhaenyra. Taking her to the fool's shows and bird watching, she even took Rhaenyra to the Sept. Rhaenyra does not pray, let alone believe in the seven!

You toyed with your food for a while, pushing peas back and forth with your fork, to which Viserys took note "You ought to eat child." He voiced his concerns about making your fork stop its scraping.

"Forgive me, your grace, I'm not very hungry." You shrugged "May I please be excused?"

Viserys looked around the table and sighed, nodding. You said your farewells and sprinted to your room. You breathed out deep stress-infused sighs, grumbling under your breath as you cuddled a pillow on your window bed.

Stupid...stupid girl for thinking she would feel the same way for you, other than a sister.

What if she felt that way for Alicent? Mayhaps that's the reason she began to pull away from you...

It was sinful in so many ways, pillow biters. That's what the older ladies sniggered about in the halls. Were you a pillow bitter? Could girls even be pillow bitters? You tried to concentrate on the book you decided to finish and yet your mind just wouldn't seize its endless blathering.

Your door opened after a series of knocks, in walked Queen Aemma with two servant girls, hauling along a tray of fruits and a glass of milk. "It isn't wise to go to bed on an empty stomach, it will ache tomorrow." She patted your hair, choosing to sit opposite you. "Finish the whole thing."

You whined at the cup of milk, you didn't exactly hate the beverage but gods did it taste absurd some days. She gave you a comforting push, smiling as you tried to consume the cup in one go; perhaps that way your tongue wouldn't linger in its flavour afterwards. You sighed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Good girl," She said, looking out the glaring moon that graced your window "Now tell me what disturbs you? Is it your home again?"

If only it were that simple, you stopped crying about your home more than three years ago, your father abandoned you and your brother was the sole reason your blood still stained its Dornish colours. You meekly shook your head, hoping she would leave the subject at that.

"If it's people at court sweetling, if they malign you in any way. You must tell me." She gently held your jaw, lowering her face to make you meet her glistening eyes.

"Yes, your grace."

"Alright then," She leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead, before letting you reciprocate with one on her cheek "Do not stay awake for too long."

You remembered your conversation with Daemon, more so how he always seemed to acquire what he wanted by the sheer strength of his will. The sheer strength of your will, that's what you need. Just a little bit of bravery, for what is the worst that could happen. They have your gelded for making an impasse at the only crown princess of the Targaryen dynasty.

You padded your feet over next door, greeting Ser Westerling who was stationed outside your and Rhaenyra's apartments for tonight. Her room was empty, though prepared for her slumber as fresh incense burned off her receiving table, linens just moved around to sleep in. You shuffled yourself onto her bed. Sitting on your knees at the centre.

"Rhaenyra I love you, in a not sisterly way..."

"I speak from the depth of my heart, I profess my devotion to you sweet princess... no...no that is far too melodramatic."

You began speaking to yourself in your head, insanity, pure insanity. You were sure if you thought too hard; you'd lose yourself in your own mind full of cats, dragons and knights and ten versions of Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra's chamber doors finally opened, she shuffled in; pulling at her earrings as she kicked her slippers away before pulling a sack from her pockets to place on her dresser. Humming a little song under her breath before her eyes fell on you sitting in her bed, she squealed. Placing a palm on her chest, clearly shuddered in shock.

"Seven- what are you doing here?" She questioned, eyes wide as she pushed the little sack away further.

"You didn't come to hug me before bed- so I thought I would visit you." You shrugged awkwardly

"I- I was with Alicent, lost track of time." She said as she stretched the back of her neck.

"Oh-"

Don't say it

Don't say it- you fought your tongue with all your might

"Princess, do you not wish to be my friend anymore?" You said sounding insecure and solemn.

Rhaenyra looked taken aback "What makes you say that."

"You spend all your time with Alicent, going to the markets, the Sept and spend your evenings in her solar... it's just she is your friend too but I rarely see you anymore." You mumbled your words out in one giant sentence.

"I- you silly duck." She curled her lips in her mouth to stifle a growing smile. "We were making preparations for your name day." She confessed, looking amused at your pouted face.

"So...you do want to be my friend." You questioned again to be clear.

"Why would I not." she exclaimed throwing herself onto her bed "You shall always be my dearest companion." She pulled you down into a hug.

Tell her

Tell her

Daemon's voice taunted you.

"Can I kiss you?" You blurted out, your palms began to sweat

Please do not me have gelded

Or beheaded

Rhaenyra looked at you quizzically before turning her head to offer you her cheek. That too in definition was a kiss but that wasn't what you meant. You fumbled with your fingers as your brain racked up ways to confess your passions for your dearest princess

"I meant- have you ever noticed how Viserys always goes straight to Aemma whenever she visits him, the first he does is kisses her." You said trying not to fumble over your words "Well, whenever you visit my stomach flutters in butterflies and all I want to do is kiss you."

Rhaenyra tilts her head, looking confused yet almost grasping at what you meant.

"I love you," You confessed

"So do I." She replied innocent words shared many times over between the two of you.

"No- I love you like a knight would his lady." You elaborate, again fear flaring in your chest.

Please do not have me exiled

"Like a knight loves his lady...?" She repeated, thoughts flooding behind her purple eyes "So are you the knight or the lady."

"I- what?" Her reply confused you, was she happy; was she mad? You couldn't quite place an emotion on her face "Uh- the lady."

"Then I love you like a knight too," She replied smiling ear to ear.

"Wait you do?" You were sure the smile that spread on your face made you look like a drunken fool but you had not a care in the known.

She nodded eagerly "Do we kiss now?"

"I believe so," You agreed, heat rushing to your cheek as your pursed your lips towards her, her soft lips pressed against yours as she graced you with a chaste kiss.

The two of you broke apart in a fit of giggles, Rhaenyra blushed red as you fanned at your warm face.

"That was very nice," she said awestruck, before pulling you closer for another.

"My knight," you whispered against her lips.

next chapter

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #desiblr #houseofthedragon #house martell #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon #house of the dragon smut #daemon fic #rhaenyra targaryen #young rhaenyra #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen x harwin strong #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #queen rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic #rhaenyra x fem!reader #daemon x you #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon x reader #river of fire series

[bchan95]

Tension Pt. 1

I swirled my glass of wine, tongue fixated on the inside of my left cheek as I watched him lean over to her again and whisper something into her ear. That stupid dimple popping as he moves his hand to rest on her lower back.

Nothing about this should bother me. Nothing about the way his head tips back in laughter at her jokes should make me want to pour this glass of rose down the back of her silky silver dress. The only thing that could potentially stop their bodies from being fully intertwined like they had been all night.

I had no right to be angry at someone I didn’t know. A beautiful brunette with perfectly placed freckles with her hands on his chest. Face near his face. But here I am, two seconds away from breaking this glass against the brick wall I’m leaning against. I begged for any noise to drown out my thoughts of her face on his face, his neck, his body.

This rush of pulsating continuous thoughts was put to a pause by a hand on my shoulder. My eyes painstakingly left the bitter romance that I watched in front of me to meet bright blue curious eyes. I let my scowl fall as I read the concern immediately as pressure was added with a squeeze.

“Girl you cannot sit here and torture yourself all night,” Yuna looked at me wide-eyed as she grabbed the glass from my hand and took a sip before handing it back to me.

I knew she was right. I couldn’t just sit there and let my thoughts continue to dig their heels into the crevices of my thought process. But I couldn’t look away. I knew that the second my eyes left their intertwined arms, I would just continue to paint my own picture as I tried to keep up with the buzzing conversation at the table.

“I’m fine,” I say flatly. She ignores me. Interlacing our hands, she guides me back to our shared table.

They all look at me with the same doe eyes. I hated how I immediately knew that they were pitying me. Something in those soft glances made me want to spill my guts. And there was only way I planned on throwing up emotion tonight.

“Guys… why are you looking at me like that?”

Felix shook his head at me, the little cross earring in his left lobe shaking as he sighed. He grabbed my hands from across the table and lovingly drew circles on the tops of my palms. He didn’t say anything else but I knew what it meant.

I let his hands rest there as I scoffed, forcing a smile across my lips as my left eye glanced in their direction once more. Enough to hold me over until they were all distracted again. They were dancing. Closely. That’s all I allowed myself to see.

I let go of one of Felix’s hands and downed the rest of my glass, squinting my eyes at the impact. I looked back up at the table and their eyes were still on me. I finally gave in and asked the question.

“What’s up with you all? So quiet?”

I laughed. No one else did. Finally, the quiet was cut by the waiter setting glasses on our table with a bright smile. He dropped a dark liquid in front of me. I scrunched my eyebrows, turning left to catch his attention.

“Oh I didn’t order-“

The waiter smiled back at me, a small diamond gracing his leftmost tooth as it widened. He shook his head before speaking.

“You didn’t… but he did.”

The man pointed to a section across the room from the table. MY eyes followed and finally landed on him. He grinned ear to ear as he held her waist close to his. He shot a wink and shook his phone. I quickly looked down at my own bright screen and saw it aglow with a message.

“You deserve to have fun, yeah? Happy birthday xx”

I sent a quick heart react to the message as a faint smile fell across your lips. I looked back up at him and raised the glass with a nod. I looked back over at the table to three disappointed halfhearted smiles across from you as you slowly savored the free cinnamon and brown sugar coating the glass.

Felix finally breaks the ice with an eye roll.

“I know Chan is your best friend and it’s complicated but… Y/N I just hate seeing you like this… and on your fucking birthday.”

My own laugh sends a sharp pain to my stomach, and I take another long sip. I knew he was right. I knew constantly watching Chan dance with other girls really hurt. I knew that although he was entirely unavailable, I found it hard to date anyone because of him. It was unhealthy. It made me nauseous. I didn’t want him to leave.

“Felix. I promise I’m okay. Chan is going to Chan. I shouldn’t just not invite my best friend to my birthday celebration because I’m incapable of moving on.”

The liquor burns this time as I force it down my throat, but I am persistent. I let the full glass melt away in my body before facing them again. I smirked, leaning my hand against my head, feeling the burning of my cheeks against the chill of my palm.

“I’ll be okay. I just hope he gets whatever he planned to get out of this night so I can just focus on something else.”

Lia chewed on her bottom lip “I just think he’s kind of disrespectful. Like… even as your friend he couldn’t stop playing the field to celebrate with you?”

I nod softly. She had a point here. I had made these plans weeks ago. I just wanted one day with my friends to let loose and forget everything. But it’s hard to do that when your best friend is a rockstar with enough ego to be supercharged for life.

It wasn’t his fault though. I told him to have fun… and he is having fun. I know he is. That girl is beautiful. The way her arms seem to fit so perfectly around his neck as he pulls her torso into his. The way she throws back her head with easy laughter at anything he says, catching the brightest smile she’s ever seen on his face.

I envy the ease that comes with the beauty of her caliber. Even if it’s just surface level. Because selfishly and desperately, I wished that I was pretty enough that he forgot about all of my quirks. That he saw me as only an object of desire for once. That I could capture all of his attention with one bat of my eyelashes.

But he had to know my Ben & Jerry's, sobbing in the shower, corner store red wine, five seconds from a meltdown personality.

I lift myself off my chair, a slight haze covering my pupils for a moment before they clear.

“I’m going to get another drink. Does anyone want anything?”

They all shake their heads and I shrug as I push through pulsating rhythms and bodies to get the bar. I, unfortunately, lay my hands down on the sticky wood and immediately picked them up with a scrunch of my nose. I hastily grab my hand sanitizer out of my purse and glaze my fingers in the putrid liquid before looking back up.

A dark-haired bartender with glasses smiled at me as he cleaned off the glass in his hand. My eyes glanced at the way his arm muscles followed the motion of his hands for a moment before looking back at him.

“Hi!” I scream against the deep base of the EDM track behind me. The bartender’s smile deepens.

“HI!” he mocked me, giggling a bit after he did.

I bite down a smirk on my lips before continuing “Can I get a vodka cranberry…”

“Changbin.” He said confidently, nodding at me as he took my credit card from my waiting hand.

“Thank you!!” I yelled again, letting myself lean on the counter once again.

My eyes zeroed in on their dancing. However, this time Chan’s eyes directly met mine. I forced a smile onto my lips, about to mouth some stupid quip to embarrass him when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I spun around to meet those glistening dark eyes again.

“Here you go miss…”

I allowed myself to smile again “Y/N.”

He nodded, holding out a frosted glass and my card in my direction again. Our fingers grazed as I grabbed the items from him. “Man,” I thought to myself, “I really need to get laid. A Darcy-esque hand touch shouldn’t send shocks up and down my arm like this.” I giggle to myself and start to step away from the bar.

“Thank you, Changbin!” I yell at the same volume as I did my introduction.

He tapped his chest with his fist before screaming “You’re welcome, Y/N!!!”

I couldn’t fight back the giggles this time as I saw his obscene reaction. I let them fall one after the other as I kept eye contact with him. He breaks out into a bright smile before shooting a wink my way and turning back to the bar. I try to settle the reaction on my face as I turn around to move back over to the table. As I sit down, I already hear laughs around me.

“Oh he’s cute, Y/N…” Yuna starts. I lift my head to see her raising her eyebrows up and down in my direction. She points subtly behind me with a smirk. “And he’s still fixated on you even though he can only see your back right now.”

I slowly turn and meet Changbin’s eyes quickly before spinning back around. My cheeks were heating up as I tried to sip my glass casually and respond back to Yuna.

“He is kind of cute…”

I watched as Yuna scanned the room, her eyes meeting something before she almost doubled over in laughter. I feel my eyes widen in confusion as I watch her expression change. I am terrified to look around, not sure what my eyes will come in contact with. Luckily for me, Yuna paints the scene.

“Looks like your cute little interaction was noticed by someone else too…” She lifts her glass with a smirk

Now I was curious.

I turned around quickly, and I saw Chan leaning against the bar. Eyes blazed and glared right in my direction. The girl he was with dangling on his arm, trying to whisper in his ear but he continued to stare at me. I raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to the table with a shrug.

“He’s being weird, but what’s new.”

The three people across from me exchange some wide-eyed glances before looking back at me. I want to say something, but my thought is quickly stopped by a warm hand on my exposed shoulder. I don’t move out of shock, waiting for any other movement from whoever stands behind me. I felt whisky-laced breath hit my nose as they leaned their face toward my ear.

“Who’s your bartender friend, Y/N?”

#bang chan x y/n #changbin x y/n #stray kids fanfic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan angst #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bangchan x reader #bangchan x y/n #skz imagines #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #skz x reader

[rickfucker]

SFW Rick Headcanons (GN!)

BC why not. This season is literally so good so I’m celebrating with this nonsense >:)

I am of the belief that Rick is huge on PDA. If you asked him, though, he’d deny it vehemently.

Arm around your shoulder on the couch, around your waist out in public, hand on your thigh when he’s driving. If there’s the chance to make someone else uncomfortable for his own personal enjoyment, he will take it. He doesn’t like it when people so much as look at you wrong. He will let them know you’re taken in the most obnoxious way possible.

He also loves PDA for the sake of embarrassing you. Getting to see his SO blush/get flustered makes life worth living.

He’s tall as all hell so: resting his chin on top of your head and top of the head kisses!!

Comparing hand sizes because yes.

Obviously, he’s a hard man to get close to. I imagine he does a good job at making you feel like you know him/relate to him one moment, but when he realizes he’s shown any vulnerability, he locks back up and gets pissy about it for a few days. Absolute King of mixed signals.

When he picks up on things that interest you, he finds things on his adventures to bring you, whether it's snowglobes of alien planets or potions or geodes or whatever. He’ll never directly give you a gift, though, he’ll just leave it somewhere inconspicuous like next to where you keep your other trinkets in your home.

(The first time you try to thank him for a gift, he acts like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. It’s never brought up again, but your collection mysteriously keeps growing.)

If you’re significantly shorter than him (or just shorter than him at all), he will tease you for it. If you’re stubborn about reaching all the shit on high shelves yourself, he’ll just stand there watching you amusedly instead of helping. Glaring at him will only entertain him further.

I do imagine he does best with a SO equally as insufferable as him. Nice people will never break past his hard exterior. But someone just as stubborn? Someone he can intellectually spar with? Someone with just as much baggage to be bitter about? That, he can work with.

He loves introducing you to new alien drugs, honestly. If not just for the fun of it, he probably already finds you fascinating, so he’d be studying your reactions when not partaking in it himself.

Rick talks during movies. Shocker; the man never shuts up. You have weekly movie nights with the family, but Rick just mercilessly makes fun of whatever you’re watching for its entirety. It could literally be Shawshank Redemption, he doesn’t care. Every Earth-made movie can and will be mocked in his household.

I’m not under the impression he wouldn’t say The Love Word. Give him enough time and he will get there. He gets so annoyed with his own hubris that he makes a point of saying it first. He knows what love feels like and he knows he’s in love with you, and being in love pisses him off just as much as denying it to protect his pride does.

He barely sleeps, and when he does it’s only for a few hours. When he wakes in the early hours of the morning, he’ll watch you sleep for a while before tucking you in and heading to his work space.

He loves just making out; it makes him feel young.

Learns how you like your coffee (or tea!), and it’s always sitting there when you get up for the day, regardless of if you’re at his house or not.

Seeing you get along with the kids makes his self-proclaimed frozen heart melt a little. His only way of showing this is vague annoyance, mostly because they’re taking your attention away from him. 

What can I say? He’s the biggest baby in the universe.

Bonus: 

He dresses up as Slutty Santa to disturb his family. Makes you sit on his lap and tell him what you want for Christmas later that night.

#rick sanchez #rick sanchez headcanons #rick and morty headcanons #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez fanfic #rick and morty #mesa writes

[iamasaddie]

mean & bitter

paring: Tim Rockord x f!Reader x Ramon Nomar (iykyk) rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI) word count: 3,9k~ summary: you knew how immature it was to be mocking two grown men that you worked next to, but whenever you saw them you just couldn't help yourself. They've been tolerating you for too long and now they've had enough. Secretary!Reader gets 'put in her place'.

warnings: pwp; dubcon due to power imbalance; age gap (reader late 20s - early 30s, Ramon is 40+, Tim is 50); mfm; oral m receiving, unprotected PinV, dirty talk, spit-roasting, choking, ass spanking, fingering, slight degradation; slight mysoginy but no one actually thinks like that; reader has hair that can be pulled; no use of y/n. let me know if I missed anything

a/n: big love and hugs to @noxturnalpascal for helping me out woth this little brainfart monstrosity by being the best first reader and beta <3 i love you, dearest, you make my heart all warm and fuzzy with love! and amazing and talented Han @swiftispunk , I am sending you love, adoration and I hope your day (week, month, year, lifetime) gets better from this point forward, ILY <3

MY MAIN MASTERLIST

The clicking of your heels on the slippery tile floor of the precinct made the men in the office wince. It usually wasn’t the reaction you got from the opposite sex, but when it came to Detective Rockford and junior detective Nomar things weren’t so nauseatingly easy. You weren’t at war, or anything of that sort - you weren’t even in the position to be at war with them - but you couldn’t lie, getting on their nerves did send an exciting chill down your spine. A chill that traveled even further than your spine (down your panties) more times that you cared to admit.

You hated the stereotypically misogynistic behavior of your workplace. Feminism works hard, but prejudice works harder, you huffed to yourself. The fact that you were a secretary in a place filled with men who had more prestigious jobs didn’t help either. You were used to tearing men apart with your snarky remarks and cruel observations, only keeping your job with your unquestionable professionalism. 

Most people in the precinct already knew better than to get on your bad side, preferring to keep things if not friendly then at least civil, but not Rockford and Nomar. Oh no, the men walked around like they sported ten inch dicks and egos the size of the Empire State Building. Whenever you made a comment, they retorted with two, so whatever you did the best score you came out with was 1:1, but that would change today.

Late night already fell on New York, the city as bright as during the day thanks to the innumerable billboards, city lights and Christmas decorations that shone brighter than your future. When the clock hit a painfully late 10pm, your boss told you to go home as he intended to do so as well, and you nodded, saying that you’d only bring some files that needed signing downstairs and head out. You did as you told him, though quite pointlessly, seeing that every other conscious person had already left the building, leaving you alone with the exception of the security guard that was most likely flirting with the night shift janitor.

You noticed light at the end of the corridor, knowing exactly what office it came from. Before you could stop yourself, your heels had already passed the doorstep. 

Detective Tim Rockford, a handsome man a little bit over fifty with a surly demeanor and cynical view of life was sitting at his desk, his eyes closed and his thick thumbs rubbing his temples slowly. Over him, just across the table cluttered with photos and notes, was junior detective Ramon Nomar. You had laughed a few times about how a man over forty can still have a junior position, and in very clean Spanish he told you exactly where to shove your comments. You smiled bitterly when you saw the deep wound you poked. To your misfortune, Nomar was also handsome as a sin, and had an attack dog behavior, for which you called him Rockford’s little pup. Even though there was absolutely nothing little about that man.

You knew the things weren’t good for them right now, a series of murders of young girls had shaken the city and for the three months they had worked the case they were nowhere closer to finding the murderer.

Of course, you didn’t find the situation enjoyable in any way, but you did revel a bit in the misery two detectives obviously felt. You wiped the corner of your lip, fixing the red of your lipstick.

“You know, maybe it’s finally time for you to retire. Go on a couple's retreat somewhere. Maybe Sandals,” you pretended to think, tapping lips with your index finger mockingly, “that is, of course, if you managed to earn anything with what a shitty job you’re doing here.”

Rockford didn’t even open his eyes, the only acknowledgment you got was a slight tilt of the head from Ramon, who immediately dismissed you as well.

“We don’t have time for your shit right now. Get out.”

“Or what? You're gonna kill me so you could crack at least one case?”

You didn’t notice how Ramon was on you so quick, easily enveloping your neck with his hand and squeezing it, pressing you into the wall painfully.

“You think it’s fucking funny?” He growled so close to your face that you could almost feel his breath in your mouth that opened in surprise. “You think that you can walk in here every fuckin’ time you want and bother us with your bullshit?”

His hand squeezed tighter around your throat, cutting off the airflow completely and making you dizzy. Your eyes started wandering pathetically, landing on Rockford, who finally sat straight in his chair, his face completely unfazed despite the scene unfolding in front of his eyes.

“No,” you tried to push the words past your lips, but failed, making yourself look like a dying fish. Ramon shook you, your head banging against the wall as he made you look back at him. His face was screwed in anger, but there was something else behind his furrowed brows. Something that resonated with the growing dampness in your panties that you failed to acknowledge as the lack of air made you almost unconscious. 

“That’s enough, Ramon,” finally, the older man intervened and as soon as the words left his mouth you felt air filling your lungs back up. You started coughing violently and would’ve fallen with how hard you leaned forward, but Ramon’s hand gripped your hip, keeping you steady and pressed to the wall. The sound of Rockford’s shoes clicking on the tile floor approached you, and before you saw the shining leather of his footwear, you felt already familiar warmth close to your neck. “She’s just a stupid little secretary, she doesn’t understand why our work here is so important. Why we cannot be interrupted.” His hand found your jaw, squeezing it in a tight grip and forcing you to turn.

“I-- ”

But you weren’t allowed to finish, the men who practically cornered you into a wall continued talking over you as if you weren’t even there.

“Maybe we should show her, then?” Detective Nomar raised his left brow, addressing Rockford. The younger man’s hand strayed dangerously close to your ass like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“What do you -- ”

Ignored again, like an annoying mosquito that you can’t catch so you just wait for it to start sucking on your blood to kill it. 

“You really think she’s teachable? ‘M pretty sure her brain has the maximum capacity of spelling the words correctly.” The older detective sighed, as if he was exhausted at just the prospect. His partner shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant gesture. You should’ve seen it minutes ago, that this was all just a scene. Their little foreplay before the main act that they already perfectly played out in their heads. 

The men in front of you looked at each other, barely containing little smirks. Their hands on your body weren’t angry or pushing, they just reminded you that you’ve been standing in a compromising position quite willingly, with your panties wet and your thoughts tangled. You’d given them your inaudible yes when you haven’t pushed either of the men away. You were going to play their game and they knew it, it was too late to back down now.

“I don’t know,” Detective Nomar stopped containing his satisfied smile, and you watched his hand go to his trousers to adjust the intimidating bulge before he looked at you, “but we can try.”

A set of rough hands took you by the shoulders, pushing you towards the desk cluttered with papers, documents, and the pictures of tortured victims and the suspected criminals. You didn’t have much time before you were shoved roughly and bent over it, your face pressed hard into the glossy photos, your left hip crying with pain as Rockford’s name plaque crashed into it. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” the words came out muffled.

“Didn’t think you were that dumb, girl.” Ramon laughed, hiking up your skirt and exposing your panties. “And judging by this big wet stain,” his thick thumb traced your slit, pushing the wet fabric into your flesh, “you know exactly what I’m doing.”

The whimper you let out was pathetic, and you heard a mocking laughter behind you. You’d never heard Tim Rockford laugh before, not like that, at least. "Goddamn, girl, is this the reason you were walking around acting like a bitch for the last few months? Just wanted to get fucked?”

You whined in protest, Ramon’s thumb still working on massaging your pussy lips, squeezing and thumbing the flesh becoming exponentially wetter. Detective Rockford walked around the table, his crotch with an intimidating bulge was on the same level with your face, and he patted your head, pushing the strands of your hair away from your face with a false softness. “You don’t need to lie now, sweet cheeks,” he almost whispered, “I know you think we’re bad detectives, but with evidence like that even a Starbucks employee would crack the case.”

The embarrassment got out of the picture pretty quick with other feelings occupying your mind and body, you had half a brain cell left to think about what it all could cost you. Your career, your reputation, it all can go out of the window for a moment of physical pleasure. But you felt like everything, every little jab and comment, every sarcastic laugh and side eye adamantly led you to this moment. To the moment where you were bent over a table with one strong man already sliding your panties down your legs and the other clicking his belt and opening the zipper of his pants.

“I thought you’d be yapping your mouth all the goddamn time, but look, we didn’t even have to gag you, huh?” Rockford’s voice was calm, if a bit merry, as his fingers finished with the fly of his pants and tugged the white shit up. Ramon hummed in agreement behind you, both of his hands busy with squeezing your asscheeks, tugging them apart to look at both of your holes.

“Don’t think your dick is big enough for the job, you’re overselling yourself again, just like I think you did at your job interview.” Sometimes you hated that sarcasm was your second language, and your short temper never got you anywhere but trouble. When every movement from both men stopped you realized that you were in trouble again. Tim crouched a little to look you in the eyes, his face wasn’t bothered a bit, only a confident smile telling you that you’d been wrong. You knew that you’d been wrong just from the bulge, but you just couldn’t fight your bitter nature.

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to see, sweetheart.” His eyes raked over your face and then looked behind your shoulder, giving a little nod to detective Nomar.

His movements were fast, practiced, boxers down, cock and balls out. You choked on air when you saw the delicious monstrosity bobbing heavily in front of your face. If either of the men laughed at your reaction you didn’t hear it, blood rushing in your ears and saliva pooling in your mouth. You admitted to yourself that Rockford was handsome, you just didn’t expect every part of him to be so attractive. His cock was easily seven inches, thick with a beautiful head shaded dark pink from arousal. His shaft was curved to the right just the perfect amount, two prominent veins running on the opposite sides and meeting the underside of his cock. You licked your lips, and your pussy squeezed around nothing as you imagined him stretching you out. Tim’s hand engulfed his shaft, and even though he could fully hug it with his thick fingers, the whole picture was still intimidating. He took a step closer, his thighs cutting into the edge of the desk and his full, heavy balls almost kissing your chin. You didn’t notice how you closed your eyes, but you opened them quickly as you felt his cock slapping your cheek. Tim looked at you condescendingly. 

“Open your mouth, doll.”

You did. Not a word left you when your lips obediently parted letting as much of Tim in as you could physically muster. He was warm, heavy and almost spicy on your tongue. A taste that would be impossible to recreate, a feeling that you will never get to experience again. This moment was unique, and you moaned at the realization.

You didn’t notice the disappearance of the junior detective, all of your thoughts consumed by the man who started shoving himself inside your throat at a slow but steady pace. You evened your breathing just in time to feel Rockford’s hand closing around your throat. He moaned for the first time since he got his cock in your mouth when he felt his shaft parting your throat from the inside.

“Fuck, doll,” he was almost breathless, “your cocksucking skills are way better than your secretarial ones. Maybe you should think of switching your profession.”

His words were almost enough to start protesting, you pushed your hands up and placed them on his hips, but Tim was too quick to read your mind. 

“No, no, baby, keep your hands behind your back. If I wanted a handjob I’d tell you to give me one. But I want to fuck your bitchy throat until you can’t speak and that’s what I’m going to do.” 

You felt your hands being caged behind your back again, and a second time a belt clacked. Part of your brain that still worked told you that it was Ramon, who was absent for the last year that you’d been sucking Tim’s cock. His big hands quickly squeezed your wrists, and then you felt leather tying them together. All of it was overwhelming you, their voices, their actions, Rockford’s hand still on your throat and slowly working you up to take the full length of him even though you thought that impossible. Nomar, grabbing your tied hands before hunching over you so that his head almost touched Tim’s protruding soft belly when he whispered filthy promises in your ear.

“You look like a great fucktoy, mi amor. You should just stay like that for us to fuck you like the dirty desperate slut that you really are.” You couldn’t kill the moan, letting it spill right from your belly and vibrate in your throat, making Tim’s breath catch. “Your cunt is so fucking wet both my pants and my boxers are ruined.” 

You gurgled, trying to protest, or agree, or beg, but ended up just spluttering saliva on Rockford’s cock, making his shaft move even easier into your wet mouth. 

“Poor slut, always wants to talk back but now she’s got her mouth full.” Ramon cooed mockingly, his weight finally off your body, and his hands back on your asscheeks. You didn’t expect the rapid fire of slaps falling on both of them one after the other, making your skin burn and your nipples cry with tension in the confines of your bra. “You’ve got a great ass, let’s see if the pussy matches.”

The words laced with a thick accent barely registered in your mind, one moment you were getting used to the stings of rough hands abusing your ass, and the next two thick fingers easily found your entrance and slipped inside. You felt tears streaming down your cheeks both from losing your breath sucking the biggest cock you’ve seen in your life, and from the feeling of relief to finally have something to squeeze with your dripping core. You didn’t understand who your body belonged to anymore, but it was definitely not you.

Ramon’s fingers parted your insides easily, sliding in and out with no resistance as you dripped more and more arousal onto his hand. 

“Fuck, that’s a good pussy, should’ve checked it out sooner. So many nights with blue balls while she’s just gushing for me.” 

His fingers curled inside you and you couldn’t stop your body’s reaction, jerking your head back and almost screaming as white hot pleasure seared your body, starting from the pleasure spot that Ramon almost punched with his fingertips, continuing to rhythmically caress it. Tim let go of your throat, giving you a moment to catch your breath seeing as your body arched as if you were possessed. He placed his hand on your hair, clutching it instead and bringing you closer to your original position as Ramon abused and worshiped your cunt with his fingers at the same time. 

“You had your cigarette break, doll, it’s time to come back to your workplace,” he chuckled, breathless, and pushed your face into his balls, before dragging it up and back on his cock, letting your tongue dance over his salty skin all the way up. You resumed your position, welcoming his cock back into your throat with much more ease than before. You could almost feel his short-trimmed pubic hair touching your nose, but you weren’t quite there yet. 

You whined as Ramon removed his fingers from your pulsing pussy, but were quickly shut up by a harsh tug on your hair.

“Hold her tight,” came from behind you, and before you could protest, before you could even think about what you’d just heard, two big palms enveloped your head pressing it hard into Tim’s pelvis, and Ramon’s cock - that judging by your pussy measuring skills was at least as thick as Rockford’s, if not as long - pushed inside you in one deep thrust. Your head was getting dizzy with the lack of oxygen, the feeling of euphoria so overwhelming and new that you almost weren’t surprised when Ramon - with his cock fully seated inside you - barely touched your clit with two of his fingers, causing a body-shaking, mind-altering orgasm to leave your body weak and pliant in the hands of two still very much aroused men.

“Mired, did you see that? She just came all over me from us, filling her holes.” You knew Tim would find something to answer with if he wasn’t busy with choking his dick right above your face. When you came, he let your head fall gently on the desk, right side up. Your vision was blurry with mascara, tears, white spots of pleasure, but you still saw just enough of his tensed up, reddened face as he approached his climax. His hand swiped faster over his cock, still slippery with your saliva, and you were grateful that Rockford was conscious enough to point his cock at your cheek and lips as his hot cum started painting your skin. His breathing was labored and you thought he’d fall over you, but he took a step back and fell into his chair with a heavy sigh. 

Your eyes were closed, and your cunt twitched around Ramon’s cock who wasn’t as invested in his colleague coming on your face as you were. Instead, he was chasing his own pleasure, thinking that you were just conscious enough for it to continue being a consensual encounter. Your hands were almost numb, and you tried to move your fingers. Noticing the movement, Ramon let go of your hips, and loosened the belt.  You took one of your hands out, bringing the tingling limb to your face and running your fingers through the cooling coat of cum covering your cheek.

“Fuck, you filthy little thing,” Ramon moaned, his speed going up, his soft belly pressing into your lower back as his cock continued stretching you open. You felt the familiar tingle coming from the inside of your thighs and concentrating on the twitching bundle of nerves at the top of your slit. If you could talk, you’d beg Ramon to touch it, but all the strength left your body after your first orgasm, the strongest one you’ve had in an embarrassingly long while. Apparently something in your body betrayed your needs, or Ramon was a good fucking lover, but as if he read your mind, his thick fingers found your clit again, rubbing it gently in perfect tempo with his thrusts. 

“Come on, give me one more,” he growled, and you couldn’t disobey. Not when his shaft was molding your insides to fit his perfect shape. Not when the head of his deliciously curved cock was kissing your g-spot with every motion. “Give it to me, mi amor.”

And you did. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, throat too raw to let you make actual noise. Your body convulsed, as if you had a seizure, and maybe you did. Maybe you even blacked out, because you didn’t remember how Ramon pulled out of you at the last moment finishing on the crack of your ass. You thought that you’d been laying there for a week no less before you felt fingers running through the mess on your ass, heard slow footsteps, fingers, someone touching your face, and then fingers again parting your lips and pushing what you understood was the men’s combined cum into your wet mouth. Ramon wiped his digits on your tongue, and then patted your cheek with more gentleness that he’d had for you the entire night. 

He came back around, pushing your skirt that was hiked up at the beginning of the night down, you hissed as the material scratched your abused flesh, but didn’t say a word.

You finally had the strength to push yourself up, your legs trembling and unsteady in your heels. You were scared to imagine what you looked like right now, and your eyes looked around the office trying to find something to look at while your heart found the correct rhythm. Your eyes landed on Tim, who already looked as if he wasn’t just balls deep in your throat mere moments ago. His pants were done, shirt tucked in, the only thing that gave him away was the sheen of perspiration on his forehead and two extra buttons of his shirt undone, revealing his white wife beater that he wore underneath. 

Catching your gaze with his, he slowly stood up, coming to you slowly, like he was afraid to scare a young deer away. 

“Go clean yourself up, okay?” His voice was soft, but determined. “We’ll close the office up, and then we’re gonna wait for you in the car. We’re gonna take you home.”

You shook your head, trying to find the right words to say that you don’t mind repeating what you’d just done, but your body was physically devastated today. No matter how willing your brain was, you were done. “I don’t think…”

“Amor, we’re just going to take you home.” Two strong hands that belonged to your other lover lowered on your waist, his head falling to your shoulder in an uncharacteristically romantic gesture as he warmed your neck with his baritone. You pressed your back closer into his body, feeling the warmth and softness, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to be taken care of. “But tomorrow morning you can come over for coffee… and cream.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing full well that there was no way in hell you’d pass on that offer, no matter what it may bring. 

PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKED WHAT YOU'VE JUST READ! FEEDBACK MEANS THE WORLD TO ME <3

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[siempre-bucky]

Vexation

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hangman vexed you. He was always there with a snide comment over comms, teasing you during training sessions and being the most annoying, egotistical man you'd ever met. The worst part? No matter how much he annoyed you, you never could manage to fall out of love with him.

wc: 3.5k

a/n: I had a really nice anon a while back say my jake and reader fic reminded them of Kate and Anthony from Bridgerton, so here we are because I couldn't get that dynamic out of my head. and am I about to see this movie for a fourth time...yea. enjoy!

Sometimes it was a pain to be the best and to be paired with the best. Jake Seresin never wasted a moment to tell you how amazing he was. You once made the comment that if he was trying to convince himself that he was good enough. His teasing increased tenfold; little comments turned to quick jabs and death-blowing taunts from the both of you. 

You and Jake both had thick skin for one another. The swords of your words never cut flesh, yet you always prided yourself on the rare occasion you managed to bruise his sparking ego.

It almost didn't shock you to see Jake Seresin at the Hard Deck that night. In a sea of khaki and green flight suits, you always managed to pick him out. Because Jake Seresin and his ego were the annoying constants in your life. His green eyes felt familiar with every deployment, squadron change, and detachment but then so did his nails on the chalkboard voice and ego the size of his home state of Texas. You killed every thought that he felt like home while at sea.

Who were you to think that the man who vexed you the most wouldn't be on this mission? You fought the familiar urge to roll your eyes as he talked.  Your old banter started the moment you sat at the table across from him the morning of the briefing.

"You know all about those low hard decks don't you, Widow?" He winked, recalling an incident only the two of you knew about back from flight school. You looked directly at Maverick, trying to hide the flustered expression on your face. 

"You'd know that black widows stay close to their terrain, but it seems you still have your head up your ass, Lieutenant." 

Your schoolhouse taunts only got worse as the first week of training progressed. The few months you had away from Hangman made you forget the annoyance he made you feel. The blood boiling sensation within your veins made you want to stab him in the throat if he opened his pretty lips just one more time. You clenched your hands around the controls of your plane so tightly that your knuckles became bloodless. He was such a jackass. He was always right there, in your comms and even blowing up your phone with stupid, witty remarks late at night when training was over. 

It was worse this time with the way how irritated he made you. His sword poked at your impenetrable confidence during training. You found yourself constantly getting mad at him, bitterly calling him out during training and storming off whenever he walked in the room. The bitter 'I hate you' comments fell off your tongue more than normal and his cocky smile never faded a bit.  Jake and this mission were getting to you. 

“147…down,” Hondo called out as he folded his arms, sunglasses covered eyes looking down at your group on the tarmac. 

Week two was starting off with a bang, your team, or lack thereof wasn’t coming together like Captain Mitchell and the Admirals had hoped. You were doing the best you could, but your focus was being invaded by the blond Texan.  More than it should—more than you wanted.

Right now, it was the soft grunts that escaped his throat as he came back up, toned arms glimmering in the sun. You tried to ignore the chain of his dog tags peeking from his shirt. 

“Will you shut up?” you whispered angrily as you lowered yourself, fighting back an audible wince. Jake laughed from the side of you, your eyes flickering up to Hondo as he passed by with his arms casually folded across his chest.

“You like when I make these noises, don’t lie,” he whispered in return. You two looked at one another; a signature smirk adorned his sweaty face while your scowl was scary enough to have any other man run for the hills. 

“I’d rather shove a sock in your mouth.” 

Jake let out a hearty laugh, his head hung backward. "Don't be that way, princess." He looked over at you and his smirk grew at the way your short nails dug into the ground. He liked this game, it was one of his favorites.

A man in a khaki suit approached Hondo, shoes clicking on the pavement. The sound stopped when he started murmuring something in his ear. The man swallowed, turning his gaze to the pilots on the ground. "Finish on your own," he ordered quickly before following the man in the uniform. 

Jake found this to be a prime opportunity to get under your skin. Not like that was hard these days. He remained in a push-up position, walking on his hands and feet until he was across from you. "What the hell are you doing?" You grunt, your arms ready to give out. 

The wind did you a small favor and blew the stray hairs out of your face. He looked at you then down at the ground, "You look like you're slackin' there, Widow," he taunted, his tone teasing yet strained. 

"I can go as low as you, Bagman," you spat. Bob and Phoenix beside you rolled their eyes as they did their pushups. Not wanting to interfere with the my horse is bigger than your horse competition you found yourself in. 

You matched him in every motion, even holding at the bottom just to get a rise out of the blond aviator. As you neared the end they got sloppy, which Jake ate up in an instant. "Come on, Widow. Make those push-ups nice and pretty for me," he chuckled as he looked at you with dark eyes. 

"Fuck you," you strained. 199. 

The both of you went down, locked in a bitter staring contest. Your arms were shaking, your abs were on fire. Your head was pounding yet you still managed to feel lightheaded. One more, just one more then you could rub it in his stupid face. Your eyebrows furrowed and another pained grunt passed your lips but he looked so unphased. “You can go up whenever you want,” he said. Your law clenched so tightly you thought your teeth would break. “Going on that mission with limp arms sounds like a fun challenge.” 

The mission. Your eyes flew up to him, you were tired of this fucking mission because what if this would be the last time you and Jake fought tooth and nail. The last time he’d taunt you relentlessly, the last time he’d enter your space. “Get fucked,” you panted as you stood up abruptly, wiping your forehead with your arm. 

You started to walk away, tightening the sleeves of your flight suit around your waist before running your head over your head. “Widow!” Jake called to you as he caught his breath, standing up and putting his hands on his hip, his weight shifted to one side. “It was just a friendly competition.” 

“Friendly?” You shouted, turning around quickly, “Ha!” you feigned laughter. 

Jake raised his arms as a silent ‘what the hell?’ and shook his head. “Why are you getting so mad at me? We do this shit all the time. I thought they were going to kill us back in Virginia.” You remembered when your squadron was stationed in Virginia, you and Jake were hauled off to an Admirals office like school children. Reprimanded and minorly threatened by a man double your age with a receding hairline that Jake joked about later. 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his comments, “Just stop talking, Seresin,” you snapped.

“What’s your problem with me, Y/L/N? Never bothered you before.” It didn’t bother you because you two were the best…an almost guarantee to trick fate and see each other once more. You did have a problem with Jake Seresin, he was annoying and cocky and always fucking there. 

“You really wanna know my problem with you, Jake?” you questioned as you marched towards him, your fists clenched tightly at your side. Your breaths were shallow with anger as you stood the distance of the fighter jet's wings away. You could see his narrowed eyes and thin lips pressed together tightly. 

“Enlighten me,” he huffed out, folding his arms over his chest. 

Your chest puffed out, the gears whirling in your mind to come up with the right words to describe how you felt. “You—” you began through gritted teeth, flexing your hand and bringing them up waist level, angrily curling your fingers. “—you vex me!” 

He stood there a moment, watching your stiff frame, the golden light of the lowering sun creating a perfect glow on your figure, blocking out shapes on your suit. He wanted to breathe it in and commit it to memory but the words that fell from your lips stunned him. His eyebrows raised and his eyes widened in shock. “I vex you? What is this, the 1800s?” He laughed mockingly. 

You stormed closer and prodded the skull on his patch with your pointer finger. “You annoy me, you frustrate me! You and your cocky attitude that you have set as your default tone of goddamn voice,” you stated bitterly. He just took it, letting you push him back as you stabbed his chest. His green eyes looked down at you with what appeared to be concern masked by his own irritation. Sure, you’ve called him out before, but it was never like this. You never carried this much rage for him. You jabbed him once more as you turned around before he could see your lip quiver. 

He was about to speak but you beat him to it. “You want to know the worst part?” you managed, your head turning to the side, your eyes looking to the ground. 

“I’m dying to know,” he intoned, his face filled with irritation. 

You turned again to look at him. “You’re always there Jake.” 

“That makes me feel a lot better,” he scoffed with a long roll of his eyes. 

“Your comments and your jabs, your taunts—but you were the only one who showed up when my plane went down in Iraq.” Hangman’s face fell, a sharp jolt going through him. “And when that relative died, you sent my mom flowers. Flowers, Jake for a woman I mentioned once. You-you’re always there, Jake.” 

He remembered that day. The sun was hot and you were only supposed to be air cover, the enemy fighter stayed on your tail. He blew up your engine, sending you down in a fiery heap of scrap out in the terrain for days before they found you. Jake had never been more scared for a person, he screamed at personnel for the information; pulling rank and doing whatever it took to see you. 

“Y/N,” your name expelled from his lips as a whisper. He saw you weep at funerals and after your plane crashed when he saw you crying alone in your hospital bed. He never saw you cry because of him, he never wanted to make you cry. 

“But no matter how often you piss me off or vex me with your presence or your attitude—it won’t make me stop loving you.” 

His ears began to ring. It was like hearing the jets without ear protection: shocking, deafening. It took the blond a moment to regain his composed demeanor. Jake took a step forward, the plane blocking the sunlight so he could see you better. “Y/N,” he said softly. 

“No,” you tell him, shaking your head, “No.” You weakly held up your hand, tired of fighting, tired from the push-ups. “Just leave me alone.” I can’t bear your ridicule. 

Jake watched you walk away, eyes trained on your back. His heart was thundering and his mind was running a mile a minute. He desperately wanted to chase after you, push you up against the wall, and give you a piece of his mind, but he didn’t. He obeyed your wishes. 

He left you alone the remainder of the week, only speaking to you in the jets through the comms, and shifted his jabs to Rooster and some of the other guys. Coyote was the first to notice, sitting behind the two of you and how you avoided each other like the plague. It was the odd privilege he had as best friend, he got to see every side of Jake. 

Javy found his friend, spread out on his bed, and tossing an old weathered baseball his dad gave him. “You wanna tell me what’s up with you and Widow?” he asked bluntly, taking a seat on the chair near his desk. The blond didn’t look at him, but he knew Javy’s brown eyes were intensely staring holes into his skull. 

“Told me to leave her alone, I am,” he responded dryly, simply. 

Javy rolled his eyes, letting out tufts of air. “When have you ever left her alone? You call her the bane of your existence, yet you don’t leave her alone.” He smirked knowingly, he knew all about this little game the two of you had and the emotions that hid underneath the shroud. 

You were the bane of his existence, you put him in a constant state of irritation. You were the only one who could make his blood run ice cold and could warm him all at once. Every thought he had was a copy of the words you told him days ago. You were always there, matching his quips and firing back deadlier remarks. There when he needed to be consoled after his kill, there when his mom was in the hospital for a routine surgery that went awry. 

His face softened suddenly, the ball landing on the dark blue bedding at his side. “She told me she loved me, then asked me to leave her alone.” 

Javy sighed deeply and leaned back, his lips pressed together tightly before he managed to speak again. He knew it was coming, it was only a matter of time before one of you cracked. “I don’t want to be grim here, man, but we’re shipping out in the morning and we might not come back. She deserves to know what you think of her." 

"Yeah," he rumbled before becoming tight-lipped. Coyote shook his head in defeat, he slapped his knees and stood up, leaving his best friend with his thoughts. 

— 

The sea calmed him, the steel of the ship soothing him to a peaceful slumber. He was ready to become Maverick's right hand, flying off into the sunset with more honors and coming back with thunderous applause as he descended his plane. He thought he put you behind him, focusing on the mission at hand. He didn't look at you once when you boarded the carrier. His heart stung but it was worth it. Jake's green eyes fluttered closed that night, knowing he'd be waking up one step closer to being selected. 

"Dagger 2 is down! I repeat, dagger 2 is down. I'm sorry Hangman." 

"Widow's gone, man." 

Jake woke up with a jolt, instantly shedding his blanket and shivering as the cold air blew on his sweat ridden bare torso. He shook his head, placing his palms over his ears. There were voices, so many voices. They were screaming at him, taunting him. 

"I love you." He heard amongst them, echoey like it was from a ghost. He didn't sleep easy that night, his nerve hanging by a single line of web.

The salt air made you feel at home, you walked into the carrier with a small content smile the morning of the mission. Your fingertips glided along the metal of the jets as you walked past them. A satisfied hum coming from your throat as you read your name on the side. 

You kept walking, taking in the sights and the sounds of your life at sea. You passed a few more planes, a shadowy figure stood by the railing. You knew that tall stiff frame anywhere. Taking in a deep breath of confidence, you walked over. 

"Jake," you called. 

The man visibly stiffened. If he acted like that just from you saying his name, you must've ruined whatever you two had. His back was turned to you, arms folded over his chest and he looked out at the water. You stepped forward again, his woodsy cologne mixing in with the smell of the ocean. 

"You wanna know what I think of you?" He prompted suddenly, his low tone of voice and thick accent making you jump. Your heart sunk to your stomach. You deserved that, you know you did. 

You stood beside him but he didn't look down, his green eyes fixated on the horizon in front of you. "What?" Your voice wavered like a scared child. Tell me you hate me, make this easier on my heart, you thought as you studied his jawline. 

“You’re the bane of my existence, Y/N.” 

Your lips were set in a deep frown; you deserved that too, he was certainly getting his fill from taking a few days off. “Don’t be mean to me,” you scoffed before you shook your head, biting down on your lower lip, exhaling deeply from your nose. “You wanna get a real knife and stab me? Be a lot more painless,” you told him sternly before you started walking away. Jake caught your arm, stopping you in your tracks. You finally caught a look at the aviator: the dark rings around his beautiful eyes were more prominent, his hair tousled from the wind and his pillow. His grip was gentle, you could slip out of it at any moment, but you didn’t want to. You missed him. 

“I’m trying, Widow,” he sighed, his head lowering. 

“Sorry,” you whispered. 

“You annoy the fuck out of me. You kick me in the balls every time I tease you, your comebacks just as strong as mine. You’re the only one that can put up with my shit in the air.” Your body softened as he spoke, turning towards him, you kept looking into his eyes. You didn’t have the heart to look away. “You’ve been a pain in my ass since the moment I met you, but I can’t imagine my life without you in it,” he spoke with fervor, a pink blush rising to his face. 

“Jake?” It was your turn to be breathless, words caught in your throat other than his name. Your lip started to quiver and your eyebrows knitted together. “What does that mean, Jake?” His hand traveled up your arms, pulling you closer to him, he licked his lower lip out of habit and his eyes shyly darted from your gaze. 

“I’m trying to tell you that I lo-” 

“Lieutenant Seresin, Lieutenant Y/L/N… it’s time,” Warlock called, his deep voice sending you apart. He looked at you once more, you saw the fear lurking in his eyes and he saw the same fear in yours.  Heat rising to your faces as you nodded, following behind him from a good distance. 

“I don’t want them to pick you,” Jake whispered. 

“Good to have you back, Bagman,” you giggled. 

Jake huffed and looked at you, “Not because you’re a bad pilot. Jesus. Because I can’t lose you, Y/N… not now.”

You stopped in front of the door and placed your hand on his bicep, soft and delicately your fingers wrapped around him, your thumb swiping his badge. “I can’t lose you either, but you’re the best there is.” Your words stopped there, resisting the temptation to tell you loved him again, the words you swore he was going to tell you up there by the railing. 

The room was quiet, eerily quiet as you stood in formation. You could feel the fear and anticipation coming from your fellow aviators as they stood at attention. The risk was something each of you knew well, but there was only one other person in that room that felt the exact same weight of the world. The heat of the room made your breaths shortened, your eyes fixed on the back of Hangman’s head. It took everything he had not to look back at you. 

Names were called and the relief set in, you looked to your friends after you were dismissed. Phoenix pulled you into a tight hug, offering small sympathies. You shouldn’t have been this relieved, you knew this mission if successful would come with a promotion and another metal perhaps. Fate stepped in once again, you got another chance with Jake. 

You found him, his face laced with disappointment as he brushed past you. Catching the sleeve of his flight suit, he turned around and looked down at you. “Hangman,” you start, your head motioning towards the door. 

He hummed in reply as you walked side by side. 

“What were you going to tell me before the briefing?” 

The smell of jet fuel and other chemicals were washed away by the smell of the ocean and exhaust as you stood by his jet. He took his fingers and swiped away a stay hair, letting it rejoin the others behind your ear. “I want to tell you after it’s over, can you actually wait that long or?” he teased, the smile you missed so much returning to his features. 

You giggled and nodded, slinking away from the plane. You watched as he put on his helmet and climbed up the ladder. “Jake!” you called from below. 

He looked down, “What now? You know, those days of silence really helped my ears,” he joked, winking at you. 

“If we do this,” you wagged your finger between the two of you, “there won’t be a day where you don’t vex me” 

Jake laughed and sat in the cockpit, “I’m counting on it, sweetheart,” he told you before the canopy lowered. You flipped him off and held on to your helmet tightly before making your way to your plane, a smirk on your face. 

After it was all said and done, you stood in the back and the team rejoiced with Maverick and Rooster. Leaning on the side of the plane, your arms were crossed just waiting for him to look back and find you but you let him have his moment. He loved this, but you could only imagine what the praise was going to do to his ego. 

Jake shook one last hand before turning around to see you. He rushed over and took you in his arms, his hands gripping the fabric of your flight suit as if it would keep him tethered to the ground. You buried your face into his chest and let out a small sigh of relief. He held you for what felt like hours, even though it was only a few seconds. He just didn’t want to let go now that he had you, but he finally managed to pull away to cup your face. “I love you,” he said confidently, his thumbs swiping your cheek and getting rid of the shed tears “I’ve always loved you.” 

“I love you too,” you grinned. 

He laughed and bent down, his lips ghosting over yours, “We shouldn't be fraternizing,” he hummed with a playful look on his face. 

You punched his arm before throwing your arms around his neck to pull him closer, his lips finally crashing into yours. He was safe, you were safe, holding each other close while your lips glided together. “Shut up, Bagman,” you whispered playfully as you pulled away. 

“Nah, you’re stuck with me now, baby. I get to vex you all day long,” he said, his Texas accent thick as he spoke. 

You rolled your eyes, “Keep kissing me,” you ordered with a loving smile. 

Jake’s hands fell to your hips, bringing you in close, “Yes, ma’am.”

---

tagging my beloved @mothdruid ily

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x fem!reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin oneshot #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #hangman fanfic #top gun #top gun maverick

[atomic--peach]

Her Grace's Handmaiden Pt 10.

(Sandor Clegane x Fem Reader x Cersei Lannister. SMUT: Domme Cersei, light knife play, fingering, bondage, light degradation, overstimulation, oral <male receiving>)

AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

The day had finally come for you to return South and you were glad of it.

There was nothing worse, in your opinion, than being trapped in a clearly troubled place where there is nothing you can do to help.

Before you left, Theon Greyjoy stopped you. "Apologies, my lady. But, Lady Stark would like to have a word before you leave."

Catelyn Stark had holed herself up in main tower at her child's sick bed, never leaving as far as you knew.

You agreed, following the young man up the stairs and finding Lady Stark sitting in a worn wooden chair, hands clasped at her knees. She looked more ghost than woman.

"My Lady?" You breathed carefully, as if approaching a baby deer. "You sent for me?"

"Lady Clegane" Catelyn almost jumped when she saw you, as if she had forgotten summoning you at all, "Thank you Theon, you may go."

Left alone with Catelyn, you let your eyes wander the the little bundle in the middle of the bed. "How is he?"

"No change." Catelyn sighed, "but the Maesters say he is out of danger now"

She turned to you with sunken, sullen eyes. "I've asked you here to ask a favor."

"Anything, my lady" you nodded, feeling great pity for the woman before you.

"This will be my daughters' first trip south, away from home." Catelyn breathed, "Their father will be with them, and he is a good man, he is but...."

Fresh tears began to well up in her eyes and she wiped them away firmly.

"They've never been away from their mother before and I need...I am asking you to watch out for them, as if they were your daughters. Please, do this for me?"

"Oh of course, Lady Stark." You were relieved the assignment was so straight forward, "I will do everything I can."

You weren't expecting the sudden onslaught of physical contact as Lady Stark wrapped her arms around your neck.

"Oh thank you!" She sobbed, "thank you, thank you."

You nodded and waited for her to let go before clearing your throat. "Forgive me, Lady Stark. But I must go before they leave without me."

"Of course" she pulled away, face once again wet with tears, "go, go. You mustn't keep them waiting"

You gripped her shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze, "my prayers will be with you, Lady Stark"

---------

"What did she want?" Sandor grumbled, annoyed you had left him holding your mare's reigns to wait for you.

"She asked me to keep an eye on her girls." You sighed, "that poor woman, she looked closer to the grave than her son."

"It doesn't feel right" Sandor mounted Stranger as you pulled the mare up beside him. "Give me a good, clean death. I wouldn't want to get stuck between."

"Ugh" you pulled a face, "I don't want to think of you dying. There's been enough unpleasantness these last few weeks. I'm just glad to be going home."

Sandor didn't say anything, not wanting to point out that all that likely waited for you in Kings Landing were bitter nobles and nasty rumors about the upstart handmaiden who had slept her way into the Queen's Court.

He knew there was very little he could do to shield you from that. His speciality was in the feild and the fighting pits, with his sword or his fists. The gentry was an entirely different beast.

Part of him wanted to ship you off to the Westerlands to Clegane Keep. It was a generous bit of land gifted to his grandfather by the Lannisters, and had plenty of forest and farms to draw a profit from if you actually bothered to maintain it.

But the queen would never allow it, and a part of himself wouldn't either. Away from him meant closer to something else. Brigands, lustful lords, and worst of all, Gregor.

Sandor knew that at some point, some point uncomfortably soon, you would have to formally meet your new brother by law. Gregor was more beast than man, never sticking around court too long lest he find some stuck up noble to decapitate or unlucky lady to rape.

How would Gregor react to his younger brother marrying before he did? Probably producing a Clegane heir before he did? Would he see it as a challenge to his seat?

Sandor prayed he didn't.

But he didn't bring this up, not to you. Instead he rode in comfortable silence beside you, keeping an eye out for Prince Joffrey, who was probably being held hostage by his lioness mother trying to woo Lady Sansa.

That poor kid, he thought, that family was going to eat her alive.

___________

At dusk, you had come to an inn and thanked the gods for it. Who knew just a few weeks at Winterfell would soften your legs so much.

"Ow," you hissed as the chaffed flesh of your thighs touched. "Dammit"

"Sore?" Sandor smirked, his thighs of iron practically impervious to riding sores. "Perhaps you need something between them to make you feel better"

"You offering?" You challenged him with a teasing smile.

"Run along" the not-knight pulled down your hood and kissed the top of your head, "you queen wants you."

Cersei smiled as you approached the royal carriage. "Lady Clegane, come sit with us" she reached out to you and you took her hand carefully as you climbed into the carriage.

Inside was Lady Sansa and Princess Marcella who had been chatting like eager birds.

"You remember Lady Sansa?"

"Of course" you nodded to the spry 12 year old who nodded back politely. "How is the travel treating you so far?"

"I've never been so far from home before." Sansa confessed, "it's thrilling"

"I hadn't traveled much before this either" you agreed. "But this Northern countryside is just heavenly. So quiet."

"You must be exhausted, my darling" Cersei fussed "all that time on that beast, you must join me in the carriage at least once"

"I will try to tear myself away, your grace" you promised almost teasing, relaxing as the queen linked her arm in yours.

"You, guard." The queen swiftly called to random servant, "find the Hound and tell him Lady Clegane will be spending the evening with the Queen and not to worry." She glanced at you, eyes tracking your form like a wild cat, "She will be very well taken care of"

"At once, your grace" the servant scurried away and you smiled shyly.

"The king will not mind?" You whispered, unsure how much could be said in front of the younger girls.

"His Grace is busy orientating his new Hand" Cersei assured you, "trust me, he won't even notice. Now-" she raised her voice, indicating they no longer needed to talk in circles around Sansa and Marcella.

"I sent a raven to my dressmaker while we were in Winterfell and bless him, he was able to get a response back to me before we left. If we take your measurements and sent them to Kings Landing tonight, he should have some gowns ready for you upon our arrival. Any alterations needed can be done when we get there."

"Wow" you were awestruck at the efficiency. If left to your own devices you wouldn't have known where to begin. "I can not thank you enough, your grace."

"Nonsense" Cersei moved to leave the carriage, trailing you and the girls behind her like ducklings. "I will not have you looking any less than your best when you're received. Marcella, why don't you run along and find your Septa, I'm sure you have some lessons to go over. And Sansa, isn't you sister around here somewhere?"

The girls dutifully fled as Cersei's arm went from your elbow to your waist, "and you, Lady Clegane" she breathed, "will take me up to my room"

The innkeep had set aside the two largest rooms in the inn for the King and Queen. Cersei's room contained a large 4 poster bed, a writing desk, full length mirror edged in carved oak, and a fireplace.

"Have you ever had your measurements taken?"

"No" you swallowed, knowing damn well that wasn't why she'd stolen you away for the evening.

"Stand up straight" Cersei pulled a measuring tape from her bags. "Arms at your sides, there's a lamb"

The Queen's breath warmed the back of your neck as she measured your legs, your waist and bust, and your arms finger tip to finger tip.

For a moment you thought you had fooled yourself. She hadn't called you up here for anything more than measurements, that was all.

Your skin prickled as the leather measuring tape brushed your throat suddenly, unsure when it had even gotten there. The strap pressed against your windpipe lightly, not enough to restrict you but enough to threaten.

"Put your arms behind your back" Cersei purred into your ear, nipping gently at the lobe until you obeyed. You felt the thin leather wrap around your right wrist, then your left before they were pulled together tightly.

"I want to tell you a story" Cersei's hands fell to your hips, guiding you to the full length mirror. Her chin rested on your shoulder thoughtfully, running her hands up and down your body.

"When I was a little girl, I had a doll. Well, actually, I had a great many dolls. But one doll in particular was my favorite. I thought she was the most beautiful doll in the world."

As the story began, you watched in amazement as her elegant hands cupped your breasts and rubbed tender circles on your hips. It was like they moved on their own, Cersei fully engrossed in her own story and letting her hands grope and feel as they pleased.

"I took that doll with me everywhere I went. I brushed her hair, made sure all her dresses were clean and beautiful. When her paint chipped, I made my father's craftsmen repaint her as if nothing had happened"

Her hands found your clothes nipples now, rubbing her thumbs over them until the hardened and ached.

"Then, one day, my father informed me that I had grown to old for dolls. He made me throw her away with all her beautiful dressed, and I cried and protested but in the end the doll was gone." Cersei's hands came back to your shoulders, hugging you to her in a surprisingly tender embrace. She kissed down your next and back up again until she reached the shell of your ear.

"But now, my doll has come back to me, hasn't she?"

"I- yes, my queen" you agreed, not fully understanding but playing along.

"Hmmm" she cooed and looked you up and down in the mirror, pulling at your riding gown critically. "I don't like this dress on my doll."

You gasped as the skirt of your dress was sliced down the back. "Your Grace!"

"Shhh sh sh." Cersei hushed you, fingering the small blade she kept hidden in her sleeves, flashing the blade at you in the light. "Don't flinch now, I don't want to knick you"

You tried to keep as still as can be as the sound of blade cutting through wool filled the room and more and more of your body was exposed to the cool air. You jumped when the knife ripped open your bodice, earning you a sharp slap on the tit that stung wonderfully.

"Now look" Cersei forced you to look back into the mirror, hands once again traveling up and down your now exposed flesh. "Isn't that so much better?"

"Y-Yes, your grace" you closed your eyes to the slight but Cersei bit into your shoulder.

"Keep looking" she hissed, cupping your bare breast in both her hands and making you watch as she pinched and pulled your sensitive nipples.

Once a hot flush had filled your face and chest, Cersei pushed your legs apart with a growl. "Let me see" she taunted, slipping a hand down your back, affectionately toying with your bound wrists before you saw her clever hand appear between your legs in the mirror.

She stroked your folds softly, reveling in how quickly you got wet for her.

"When I do this" she stared into your eyes through the mirror, "I want you watching. I want you to see how beautiful you look getting fucked. If you stop watching, or if you close your eyes, I will punish you. Are we clear?"

"Yes, my queen" you were trembling by now, desperate for her to touch you and oddly intrigued by your own reflection.

The queens graceful fingers wasted no time dipping between your wet folds, gathering your wetness before slipping up to rub your clit. It was an usual experience, being forced to stand, forcing your knees not to buckle as she pinched the nub between two fingers and rubbed in circles.

"Eyes open" Cersei cracked her free hand against your ass and your eyes shot open instantly.

Once your knees were buckling, Cersei slipped three fingers inside of you. The intrusion almost made you double over, if she hadn't caught you by the hair and kept you standing.

"Remember to keep quiet this time sweetling," Cersei chuckled into your ear as you bit your lip to keep the moans from spilling out. "That's right, good girl."

The sting from your scalp meeting the relentless pleasure between your legs had you struggling to keep from falling off the edge, but you didn't. You wanted to keep going for as long as you could.

"My sweet girl, my little doll. I know your close" Cersei pressed, curling her fingers up into your g-spot. "You know, everyone had has the pleasure of watching that sweet little face of yours cum. Me, Jaime, your precious Hound."

She taunted you as you struggled against your bindings, the restraint becoming all too much.

"Everyone but you. Have you any idea how pretty you look, when your eyes roll back, sweating, flushed? It's fucking addictive."

The queen knew you were fighting it off, desperate to keep this going, to be the center of her frantic and cruelly pleasurable attentions.

"Stubborn little slut, aren't you?" she growled. "Fine then, you can't hold out forever"

The withdrawal of her hands felt like punishment and you sealed your mouth to muffle an involuntary sob that turned into a whine.

"Don't worry, doll." The queen dragged the chair from the writing desk to the mirror, pushing you down into it with a menacing grin

"You're not done until I say you're done"

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

It was the hour of the Rat when Sandor finally decided to look for you.

Neither you nor the queen had been to dinner, and you hadn't been seen for hours.

"I have an idea" Robert had grumbled, three sheets to the wind.

Approaching the highest floor of the inn, Sandor paused moment. It sounded like something had fallen with a dull thud.

Stripped of plate, he tried to be a quiet as possible as he drew closer. He didn't know why he had come, it's not like he didnt know what was going on behind that door.

Part of it, he presumed, tracked back to that night in camp when your cried of agony and pleasure had been the symphony of the night.

A siren's song.

He could hear that song again, but it was muffled now.

"Have you learned your lesson, sweetling?"

He strained to hear the response and sucked in a breath when the sound of flesh hitting flesh drew forth a drawn out moan.

"Too fucked out to answer? That's fine" The queen purred, "I wonder how your husband would feel seeing you like this? Blissed out, cunt swollen and drenched, ass bruised. Would he be disappointed by his little slut of a wife?"

The description alone has Sandor growing hard as his mind wandered.

"No, don't look so sad. I don't think so" Cersei's voice became something resembling encouraging. "I bet he'd find you just as beautiful as I do. Should we ask him? He's right outside."

Sandor's stomach dropped as the bedroom door squealed open and he stumbled back. Queen Cersei was draped only in a floor length silk robe, and from this angle it covered very little.

"Looking for your wife?"

The Hound's mouth went dry and silent as the queen chuckled at his embarrassment.

"Come along, she's right this way."

The queen had never really spoken to him before, let alone touched him, so it was strange when she grabbed his large hand with her lithe one and pulled him into the bedroom, closing the door firmly.

You were probably more beautiful now than he had ever seen you.

Laid out on the bed like a girl from the gods. Your arms stretched above your head and held in place by a leather strap exposed the whole of your body for his eyes to feast on. Your nipples were puffy and lightly bruised, shining with saliva to match the swollen lips of your cunt. Your eyes were screwed shut as if trying to block out everything in the world, trying to bring yourself back to earth, and your hair was fanned out in the pillows behind you like a halo.

"What do you think Clegane?" The queen prompted you. "Do you think she's had enough?"

He blinked hesitant, entirely unsure how to interact with the royal in this situation.

"Don't be shy" Cersei moved across the room, pouring herself a cup of wine then offering his some. He accepted.

She sat next to you on the bed, removing the bindings at your wrists and offering you a sip from her wine cup. "Darling? Your knight is here for you. He got worried, isn't that sweet?"

Your eyes settled on him over the rim of the cup and before he could argue you were pulling him by the hands towards the bed.

"Darling" you cooed into his ear. "Sweet husband. My love, please hold me" you begged him in a voice so sweet it would have killed him to deny you.

He swept you up carefully, melting as your curled your face into his chest sighing.

"One moment now" Cersei pulled a loose frock from a chest. "You can't very well walk her through the inn like that."

Carefully she helped you slip into the dress. It was as if you were drunk, only there was no smell of wine or beer on you. You stumbled occasionally, leaning on either your husband or your lover to catch yourself.

"Goodnight sweetling" Cersei killed your mouth firmly, then your forehead. "Go on now"

Clegane moved to pick you up again but as he bent down he froze. Cersei pressed her soft lips against his gently, almost chastely if he hadn't smelt the distinct scent of sex on her.

"Be good to her" she leaned into his ear, hand pressed against his shoulder, "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

By now you were able to walk, and the bliss filled fog that had clouded your mind was clearing.

"We should go" you urged them, pulling your shell shocked husband gently. "Before the king catches us"

"She's right" Cersei agreed, "a woman is one thing, but if Robert thinks I've pulled you into this that's all our heads"

Rushing out into the night, you gasped as Sandor pressed you against a wall when you turned the corner. His kiss was insistent and fierce, hands cupping your jaw firmly.

"Darling." You sighed into his mouth, "did you miss me that much?"

He breathed heavily, trying to figure out what to say. "Is it always like that?"

You laughed and shook your head "I think she was just in a really good mood"

"I may have to learn a thing or two from our queen" Sandor growled, "You looked like an angel laid out like that."

His hips pressed against you hard, grinding slightly and you smiled tiredly. "Darling, I dont think I have it in me to go again"

He grumbled in disappointment but moved to free you until your hands gripped his hips.

"But, my throat feels just fine"

#cersei lannister smut #sandor clegane smut #cersei lannister x reader #sandor clegane x reader #Cersei Lannister imagine #Sandor Clegane imagine #game of thrones smut #asoiaf smut #Her Grace's Handmaiden

[untaemedqueen]

At Your Service

Escort!Jeongguk x CEO!Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 15.

Series Warnings (Will Be Updated): Angst, Fluff, Cold Heartedness, Emotional Trauma, Healing, Smut, Dark Humor

"I fucking knew something like this was gonna happen again!" Taehyung hisses venomously as both he and Jimin stare down at Guk who hasn't gotten off the couch all day.

"Tae…" Chim murmurs softly, nudging him the ribs.

The escort's cheeks are stained with tears and his eyes are bloodshot with red rims signifying the lack of sleep he's gotten for the past few days.

"No! Look at him! I knew this shit was gonna happen! He looks like he's been fucking shot!" the tallest shouts, knocking Jimin's hand away.

"I know it seems bad right now but maybe they can patch it up, you k-"

"Are you fucking kidding me, man? You got wrapped up in her little play too, huh?! That bitch-"

Within a second Jeongguk is off the couch and gripping the neck of the older man's shirt with eyes that come alive with fierceness and molten anger. "Watch what you fucking say about her in my house!"

Chim takes a step back, blinking at how fast the youngest moved.

Taehyung isn't afraid of the confrontation, his smirk is almost bitter and sad for the man before him.

"I want to say I told you so badly. You have no idea," he mumbles, wrapping his hand around the escort's fist.

"Get the fuck outta my house," Jeongguk hisses, shoving Tae back with a force that makes his heels dig into the carpet below before laying back down on the couch to stare off into space some more.

"I bet you would even get back with her if she asked you too! You have no backbone, Guk! You don't even understand how absolutely wrong she is for this!"

The tallest is right in that sense, if you just called Guk or texted him he would go running to you wherever you are. Somehow your ex-boyfriend feels as if this isn't real.

You wouldn't push him away like this, you wouldn't leave him alone without any explanation if you weren't frightened. The doctor must have told you something awful. Maybe you can't face reality, yet. Or maybe you don't want to face it because then whatever it is might become real.

"What're you gonna do, Gukkie? You can't stay in this apartment forever staring at your phone," Jimin asks with a soft, soothing voice.

The escort continues to stare at his coffee table and simply shrugs when Chim crouches before him making eye contact.

"God, I can't believe the women you pick," Tae guffaws, folding his arms once more.

Jeongguk feels like a mere shell at this point, every step he takes feels like he's crawling farther and farther away from you.

He can barely even think anymore, his thoughts are always solely on you. When they're not on you, he thinks about what he's done wrong.

It's been two weeks since you blocked him from you. Everyday feels like it's longer than the last.

He wishes he would have told you how much he loves you instead of whispering it in the dead of night while you slept. Maybe if he told you how much you mean to him, you would have been brave enough to not push him away. Jimin constantly tells him to stop dwelling on it but it seems almost impossible.

"You have a job," Jimin announces, busting through the apartment door.

"What?" the escort hisses, lifting his head lazily off of the couch.

"You have a job," his best friend enunciates, throwing a pair of black jeans that are piled up on the floor at his head.

If you were to see the state of your ex-boyfriend's apartment right now, you would drop dead. It's quite simply a mess.

"I didn't take a job. So no, I don't," Guk hisses, tossing the jeans off of his thigh with a rough hand.

"Applehyme wants you and only you. And me being the great guy I am told her that you'd do it so here we are. Now get dressed, you gotta be there in thirty minutes."

The escort lets his eyes flutter closed and he can't think of anything else but wanting his couch to swallow him whole. Even Hawking is staring at him with curious, sad eyes and it rips through his limbs like butter.

Applehyme only goes to one restaurant and as annoying and crude as she is… Namjoon also goes to that restaurant to get you food.

Maybe if Guk goes, he'll see your coworker. And if he sees your coworker, he can hound him to fess up what's going on with you.

As all of this works itself out in his brain, he stands up in a flash.

"Thirty minutes?" he inquires, heading off to the bathroom.

"Thirty," Chim agrees, throwing himself down on the couch.

Jeongguk finds these restaurants way too dim. It's almost as if everyone is sticking to the shadows around him while he sits at a brightly lit table with older women swarming him like some kind of plague.

He has to squint just to see ten feet from the table but the prospect of seeing Namjoon is too hard to miss.

He takes the thigh touching with a grain of salt. Miranda Applehyme seems to never keep her hands to herself but when she's paying such an exorbitant amount to do it… he never complained.

"You've missed a few of our luncheons, Jeongguk. We were wondering when we would see you again," one of the fellowship announces.

The escort has never paid attention to any of these women's names and he's not about to start now.

"Oh… Yeah," he breathes, sitting up straighter when the doors open, "I've been busy."

These women are very bad at understanding social cues, especially when they feel like they're above everyone else. They don't understand that Guk couldn't give a bigger fuck and they really can't understand that he isn't paying a lick of attention.

Your ex physically deflates when the person that enters isn't Namjoon and he shakes his head minutely at the disappointment of it all.

It was a small chance to see him and an even smaller chance to get him to talk but he had to take it.

He needs to understand what's going on.

With a sigh, he turns his attention back to his now cold plate of food and he pushes the chicken around with his fork like a child.

"Are you alright?" Miranda inquires, pushing her bangs softly away from her eyes.

"Yeah… I'm fine," he whispers, giving her a polite smile.

The afternoon with the mothball fellowship felt longer than most days and when it's finally over the escort takes a large relieving breath.

He holds open the car door for Miranda as she climbs into her Bentley and with a sullen smile, he politely nods to her.

It isn't even two seconds later when a nice, posh car rolls into the lot and as Mrs. Applehyme opens her mouth to speak, Guk slams the door shut.

Namjoon slowly makes his way out of his car in a nicely pressed three piece suit and your ex practically fumbles his own feet as he advances at your coworker.

"Oh God," Joon whines, catching sight of the man before him.

"Explain!" Guk snaps, grabbing at the lapels of his suit.

Jeongguk isn't the only one with muscle and within a second your coworker barrels towards hjm and shoves him up against the side of the restaurant with narrowed eyes.

"Listen to me, she does not want to see you. Do you understand me? She does not want to speak to you. Leave her alone."

The words are like bullets to your ex and he seemingly slumps, almost limply, within Namjoon's grasp. When your coworker promised he'd get to the bottom of this. Guk stupidly assumed the taller blonde man would just fix everything but that's clearly not the case.

Joon pulls away sharply, fixing his suit with a huff.

"Well… wh-what's wrong with her?" Guk inquires softly, running his hands over his face.

Your coworker sighs loudly, having to look away from the man he's broken with such few words. He wants to tell him so badly but… he promised you. "She's not dying, I can tell you that much."

The escort's eyes flutter shut and Joon takes a step away to look at your ex in his entirety. He's fucking messy, although he's masking it well, the bags under his eyes tell it all.

Joon has loved you for so many years, longer than this fucking guy but he's not the one you need right now. He knows that.

You find very little comfort in his presence and you don't speak to him or anyone to try and shut the world away.

"Let's get a drink, c'mon," Namjoon sighs, heading toward the restaurant and pocketing his hands.

"A drink?!" the escort guffaws, widening his eyes as he watches the blonde man walk away.

"That's what I explicitly said. Yes."

The restaurant's bar is posh and completely filled with well off business men that have little care for anything in the entire world.

With a sigh, Guk picks up his whisky and watches as Namjoon rolls up his sleeves. The expression on the blonde man's face is one of exhaustion.

Huffing out, your coworker leans back into his chair with a groan.

"Y/N has been working so hard the past few days that it's running everyone else into the ground,"Joon announces, lifting his glass of wine.

Just to hear the way the man speaks your name, to see the adoration through his tired mocha irises makes Guk want to spit on the ground.

The blonde man notices the tension and anger in an instant but all he does is simply cross his legs confidently.

"I've know Y/N for a long fucking time. So long that… it sometimes feels like I've known her forever," Namjoon whispers, looking down into his glass. He doesn't know what he's going to say but he needs to say something.

The escort leans back into his chair, nursing the whiskey as he keeps his eyes on the older man.

"When I first met her… I grew a crush on her immediately. She was mean and vicious but she did it with poise and flare. I've been in love with her for years and she's never given me the time of day… But when you came along it was almost like it didn't even take you a week for her whole personality to change. Then I realized… I was never right for her. She looks at me like I'm some sort of background character and I'll never actually have a chance with her. I could try for seven more years and she'll never reciprocate because she doesn't care for me. I don't know if she would even call me a friend after all this time."

Guk simply watches Joon's inner monologue bleed forth from his lips like he's been dying to say this for ages.

Your coworker combs his fingers through his hair, completely at odds with what to do next. He's taking a lot on his shoulders and he's not even your significant other.

It's almost parasocial in a way.

Guk sighs softly, letting the burn of the whisky soothe his nerves.

What are you going through?

"Does she hate me? Why is she doing this?" your ex inquires hopelessly.

With a frown, Namjoon guzzles down the expensive wine. He shakes his head slowly as if he's trying to figure out exactly what he wants to do and say.

"I can't help her like you can. She doesn't… I'm not the one that she needs," your coworker breathes.

"So what're you saying?" the escort inquires, setting down his now empty glass.

"My car has black out windows so if you sit in the backseat then when I pull up to her gates the guards won't see you," Joon announces, setting his glass down and standing up.

"What?" Guk breathes, tilting his head.

"Just be quiet and follow me," the older man mumbles, rolling his eyes, "she's gonna fucking kill me, man."

<;- Last Chapter -> Next Chapter

#at your service #chapter 15 #chap 15 #jungkook fic #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #bts #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #jungkook #jeongguk

[geekywritings]

Drunken revelations

And another anonymous request finished because I was inspired :D If you have promts, quotes or something for Cal x reader shorts, send them over :D

Request: “Cal Kestis x drunk reader??? Fluffy and comfort maybe he finds out about something from her past cause she’s drunk and doesn’t register she’s saying it?”

I think I might have gone a little dramatic here, but fluff is always included ;)

________You didn’t often consume alcohol. And it showed.

You were sitting in Pyloon‘s Saloon with Bode, waiting for Cal to return from a little security round he liked to make around the place before the end of the day. The last thing you needed was the Empire finding your safe haven. Or more Bedlam Raiders causing trouble. Sometimes, you would accompany the Jedi on his patrols, but this evening you had helped out Greeze in the kitchen before being invited to join your other companion.

Bode was nice and always had exciting stories to tell. This evening, however, he was pensive and in clear need of someone to lend him an ear. He had spoken a lot about Kata, his daughter, revealing how much he missed her and how he regretted not being able to spend more time with her. This fatherly side was what warmed you to the man, as not many were as engaged as him.

During his little monologue, he had kept ordering drinks for the two of you, and out of solidarity, you had downed one glass after another with him. At first, you hadn’t felt anything, but after the third round, your head started to grow fuzzy.

Cal returned after the fourth, his face betraying a mixture of surprise, amusement and a little worry. He had never seen you in such a state.

“Cal… You’re back.”, you spoke, noticing that the control over your voice was slipping. “Was it fun?”

“Fun?”, he asked with a chuckle. “No. But at least it’s quiet.” He took a seat next to you, ordering something for himself as he joined your conversation for a while. Eventually, Bode said his goodbyes, wanting to record another story for Kata.

“He is such a good dad.”, you said, as the two of you watched the dark-haired man disappear through the door. Cal was about to agree when you tacked on a remark that had him raise his brows instead. “I am jealous of Kata.”

You were staring into your half-empty glass now, a longing expression on your face.

Cal cocked his head toward you, trying to get you to look at him and explain. Although the two of you had been dating for a few weeks now, after a rather surprising confession on the battlefield when you thought you were about to die, he knew nothing about your past. For good reason.

But you couldn’t keep it hidden forever either… and the alcohol was clearly loosening your tongue.

“I wish my dad had cared that much.”, you spoke, your eyes finally meeting Cal’s. A hand on your shoulder invited you to continue.

“He was too busy with his career. He had big plans… My mother and I… we just had to wait. Day after day after day. For a visit. For a message even. Sometimes we heard nothing for weeks until suddenly we were called to attend some event with him. He paraded us around and then forgot we existed again for weeks.” You were bitter and it showed.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”, Cal spoke softly, trying to be encouraging without knowing what to say. He couldn’t relate. He didn’t even know his parents.

“He did get his wish… he got that promotion… that position he had lusted after. And it made me hate him even more.”, you took another sip, even though you clearly had more than enough already. Cal knew that too and subtly pulled the glass away from you once you had placed it back down.

“You should hate me…”

The sudden change of topic startled the Jedi and he found himself blinking in surprise before scooting closer. A finger under your chin brought your face back in line with his after you had turned away. “Do you know what you are saying, Y/N?”

“I do… You should hate me. For who I am. For who my father is.”

“You are drunk. I’m taking you to bed.”, Cal decided, sliding from the bar stool, ready to pick you up, but your following words had him stalling for a moment.

“Tarkin… My real name is Y/N Tarkin.”

Cal’s hands stopped inches from you, as he just stared. He knew that name. The man was part of the top command chain of the Empire after all. Responsible for endless suffering across the Galaxy. And you were supposed to be his daughter? How?

He had met you as part of the rebellion. You were fighting the Empire with as much ferocity as he was.

“That’s not who you are as a person, though.”, he started slowly, allowing his initial feelings to settle.

“How do you know?”

“Because I see you, Y/N. I see what you do to fight him. I see how much you care about the people. I see how much you love me, even though we should be enemies if you truly were his daughter through and through.”

How could he say these things so easily? How could he trust you so much?

Because he loved you, your muddied brain slurred.

“You know what Merrin taught me? Where you come from doesn’t have to define you. You choose your own path in life… and you have clearly chosen yours.”

Tears were brimming in your eyes and you tried to move in for an embrace… just to almost lose your balance on the bar stool and hug the floor instead. Cal’s arms caught you just in time.

“I think I’m drunk…”, you whispered and despite the heavy topic a few seconds ago, Cal couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“You very much are.”, he agreed. “Come, I’ll bring you to bed.”

“Your bed?”

“Ours.”And with that he hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your shoulders, picking you up with ease.

“I like that…”, you mumbled, head resting against his chest as he carried you downstairs to the room Greeze had prepared for him. The room he now shared with you.

“What do you mean?”

“This… All of this… You.”

He gave you a gentle smile, before leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Any other dark secrets you want to get off your chest?”, he asked, finally placing you down on the bed.

“Just one…”

Your eyes were feeling so heavy all of a sudden, the softness of the bed beckoning you to sleep.

“If I ever have kids… I want you to be their dad…” And with that revelation you drifted off, leaving Cal dumbfounded yet absolutely happy.

#cal kestis #cal kestis x yn #cal kestis x you #cal kestis x reader #jedi survivor

[joelsgreys]

a safe haven | three

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist | previous chapter l next chapter

summary: You and Joel get to know each other better and the two of you share a private moment out behind the barn under the stars; an unexpected guest shows up to the party; Tommy gives Joel a second and final warning about you.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) MENTIONS AND IMPLICATIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE/ABUSE. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. alcohol consumption, mutual pining and yearning, Joel sings to reader a bit (that is its own warning), soft Joel, overprotective Joel, and a slight hint of jealous Joel. Tommy seems like kind of an asshole but he’s just trying to look out for his brother, okay?

word count 6.6k

About an hour later, after tossing back about three or four bottles of Seth’s crappy beer, you’d started feeling a lot livelier and a lot more like yourself. It was a glass of his delicious, oak-barrel aged whiskey that you had wanted more than anything, but with Esther over at the bar openly flirting up a storm with Joel Miller, you pushed down the desire for scotch and settled for the bitter lager instead.

It tasted awful, but it did the job well enough. The best part was that the bottles of beer were all readily available in coolers all around the barn, and you didn’t need to go up to the bar to get one. 

The last thing you’d wanted was to find out what was going on between Esther and Joel.

“And the next thing you know, poor John is being chased all around the chicken coop by a bunch of broody hens!” Martha finishes her story, throwing her hands up in the air. “God, I wish I would’ve had a camcorder in hand. It was the funniest thing I ever did see in almost two damn decades.”

Everyone sitting around the table bursts into a fit of loud, hearty laughter.

“Oh okay, so then that would probably explain why there weren’t many eggs in stock at the market the other morning,” you tease, only fueling the commotion.

John glares at you, and you shrug innocently, fighting back another laugh. Six foot two with big, broad shoulders and arms, you found it both very difficult and very amusing to picture the bulky blond man being chased around by a flock of pissed off chickens.

“I’d really like to see any of you guys try and take a broody hen’s eggs away from her with ease!” John huffs out before taking a gulp of his beer. He’s red in the face, and it’s hard to tell if it’s from the alcohol or the embarrassment. “Assholes.”

Martha leans over, whispering, “See? I told you it would make him mad.”

You giggle, lightly shaking your head at her. “Talk about ruffling some feathers, huh?”

She snorts into her plate of potatoes, jabbing her elbow into your side. “Let’s stop before he really gets all riled up, or else we’re going to get an earful.”

“Oh come on, John. Lighten up,” you grin over at him from across the table. “I know what’ll make you feel better. You guys want to hear a really, and I mean really embarrassing story?” You pause for a second or two, just long enough for everyone to nod eagerly. “Let me tell you about what Stella did to me the other day in her stall when I tried to take her temperature, it was absolutely awful. Okay, so there I am about to—”

“Sorry to interrupt you folks, but do you all mind if we steal this sweet little lady here for just a minute or two?” The sound of Tommy Miller’s smooth, deep voice causes you to stop abruptly mid-sentence. You glance over your shoulder only to see him approaching the table. He’s closely followed by Maria, who had traded her usual patrol duty attire for a light blue denim dress that sat off of her shoulders, the flowing skirt falling just above knees. Her white cowboy hat matches her husband’s.

“Aw c’mon, Miller! She was just about to tell us a story!” Peter, Martha’s husband, exclaims as he drapes his arm around his wife’s shoulders

Tommy chuckles, shaking his head. “I promise we won’t keep her too long, alright?”

You immediately notice that he’s holding a drink in each hand, each glass filled almost to the rim with a bold, rich amber liquor over ice. The only reason that you’d immediately known one of the two drinks was meant for you was because Maria had just discovered that she was pregnant. It was still a secret that very few people knew about, but the minute she confirmed it with a pregnancy test earlier that month, she’d come running to your door to tell you. It’s the reason she’s been avoiding booze all evening—she’s been sipping on lemonade all night instead. 

“Excuse me,” you nod politely to the group of friends you’d been sitting with and stand up from the table. You follow Tommy and Maria over to a far corner of the barn where the three of you could talk somewhat privately. Accepting the glass from Tommy, you offer him a grateful smile, pleased that you’d gotten the drink you had wanted after all. “Thank you.”

“‘Course.” He nods and tips the brim of his cowboy hat to you in his typical, gentleman-like manner. He’d never lost an ounce of those Texas manners.

Maria loops her arm through his. “Well, it looks like tonight was a real success,” she states as she glances around the room, her pride written clearly across her face. “Wouldn’t you say so?”

“Absolutely,” you agree, enthusiastically. You smile again and lift your glass to the couple as you toast, “Another year and another success. Here’s to many, many more to come.”

“Cheers to that, little lady,” Tommy grins and lifts up his glass, clinking the rim of it to yours before taking a generous drink, nearly draining it in one single gulp. “Thanks for stoppin’ by earlier and helpin’ set the place up, by the way. We really appreciate it.”

You wave your free hand at him. “Oh, no need to thank me at all. You already know that I was more than happy to help out,” you tell him as you take a careful sip of whiskey. The hard liquor burns its way down your throat in the sweetest way. Taking another sip, you turn to look at Maria, unable to help yourself from admiring her gorgeous, natural glow. “How are you feeling?”

“Not too bad,” Maria replies with a smile, placing her free hand over her flat stomach. At only a few weeks along, she still had quite a long way to go before she began to show. “Just a little bit of morning sickness here and there, but so far, so good.” She pauses and leans her body into Tommy’s side. “I never thought I’d be having a baby in my forties,” she muses with a laugh. “I thought that train had left the station a long time ago. But I guess life had something else planned for me.”

“For us,” Tommy corrects, playfully nudging her.

“For us,” Maria echoes, giving him a loving kiss on his cheek. “Luke calls it a geriatric pregnancy. He told me I’m automatically considered high risk, due to my age and all. But we’re hoping it’ll go smoothly.”

You detect the genuine concern behind her optimistic smile and reach out, gently touching her arm. “I’m sure it will all turn out fine. You just have to make sure that you’re taking good care of yourself and getting plenty of rest.” You point a finger at her, wagging it back and forth. “So, that means no more patrol duties for you, Mrs. Miller.”

“Oh I know,” she laughs again. “I’m on light work duties starting next week and in a few months, it’ll be strict bed rest for me. At least, that’s what Luke recommended, but I’m hoping to stay on my feet for a little bit longer than that.” She tilts her head curiously to the side as she looks at you. “Speaking of Luke, is he around? We haven’t seen him at all tonight.”

Throat bobbing, you grip your glass tightly in your hand. The corners of your mouth threaten to turn downward, but you manage to hold your smile well enough.

At this point, you had pretty much lost track of the number times you’d been asked about Luke.

Where is he? Why isn’t he here with you? Do you think there’s a chance he’ll show up tonight? Can’t you go home and convince him to join us? 

You just about loathed the way he was considered to be a hero in Jackson. The way that every single person in the community adored the man to pieces made you sick to your stomach—Luke was anything but a hero, but nobody knew that. Not a single soul knew the real him, the monster that emerged behind closed doors, the terrible things he did when no one was around.

There had been an occasion or two where you had considered going to Tommy and Maria about it, to tell them all about the horrors that went on within the walls of your home. But even when they’d point out a bruise on your arm or a scrape on your cheek, you would lose the courage and chalk it up to a clumsy accident or injuries sustained while on the job—hell, just a few months ago, you’d blamed an injured shoulder on Ranger, telling Tommy that his beloved stallion had accidentally kicked you during one of your routine examinations. You wanted nothing more than to tell him that it hadn’t been his horse who put you in a sling for three weeks, it had been Luke. But how the hell could you do that?

Luke is the commune’s physician. The commune’s only physician. 

Besides the two older nurses who worked in the clinic along with him, he was the only medically trained professional who knew how to treat severe injuries, perform minor surgeries, and diagnose illnesses—as much as you hated to admit it, Jackson needed him. If you told Tommy and Maria about everything that he’d done to you over the last two years, then you’d risk getting Luke locked up in the town jail, or possibly even thrown out and exiled from the settlement. What would that mean for the people in the community who fell ill or became injured and needed a doctor?

Maybe he wasn’t a hero to you, but to everybody else, he was. People could die without him and his medical knowledge. Hell, Maria would need Luke now more than ever now that she was pregnant.

For as much as you wanted to tell them the truth about him, you just couldn’t find the guts to do it, not when the decision would impact every single person in Jackson.It would be too selfish.

So, you kept quiet and continued to let it happen because what else could you do? 

Nothing. 

There wasn’t a goddamn thing you could do about it.

Tommy says your name, snapping you back out of your thoughts. “Hey, you alright?” he asks you as he gingerly touches your shoulder. “You zoned out on us for a minute there.”

You blink. “Yeah sorry, I’m alright. Um, Luke decided to stay at home and get some rest,” you reply as you shift awkwardly from boot to boot, feeling a sudden heat flood your face. “He’s been working a lot of hours at the clinic and making house calls as well, so he’s just been really tired, you know?”

“Oh, well that’s too bad,” Maria frowns. “Tommy and I were hoping we could say this to the both of you together, but I suppose you’ll have to give him the message on our behalf when you get home to him later tonight.”

You shoot her a puzzled look. “What is it?”

“We know we don’t say this as often as we should, but you and Luke do so much for us. So much for Jackson,” Tommy says, sincere gratitude dripping from his tone. “We’re damn lucky to have the two of you here. Me and Maria, and everyone in this community, we’re all deeply indebted to both of you for all you do.”

You stare at him. “Everyone here works very hard, Tommy—”

“Now, I ain’t saying they don’t,” he interrupts you by holding up his hand. “But let’s be honest here. Luke, he takes good care of all of our people, you take good care of all of our horses—people and horses, that’s what keeps this place runnin’ like a well oiled machine and you know it just as well as we do. Without the both of you lookin’ after our two most important resources, I ain’t all too sure where the hell this place would be.”

Maria nods in agreement with her husband and squeezes his arm. “Oh, don’t be so modest,” she remarks upon seeing the bewildered expression on your face. “He’s right. And we need you to know how much we appreciate everything the two of you do for this community.”

Tommy grins, raising his glass in a toast. “To you and Luke.”

Stomach churning, you flash them your very best smile and lift your own glass, clinking it against his and then to Maria’s bottle of lemonade. “Well, I will certainly give him the kind message when I get home tonight. Thank you.” You take a quick sip of your drink, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. The room feels hot, like it had been lit on fire and you were standing too close to the flames. “It’s starting to feel a bit warm in here. I’m going to go outside for a minute to get some fresh air. Excuse me.”

Before either of them can utter another word, you spin around on your heel and hastily make your way across the barn towards the exit, being careful not to bump into the dancing couples on the dance floor along the way. Even as you hurried out, you’d caught sight of Ellie sitting with Dina at one of the tables, digging into her plate full of barbecue. Dina had leaned over and whispered something into Ellie’s ear and Ellie let out a loud, obnoxious cackle through a mouthful of food.

Despite the circumstances, you can’t help but smile—an actual, genuine smile this time around.

At least Ellie seemed to be having a good time.

That’s more than enough for you.

Joel glimpses over Esther’s shoulder. 

His eyebrows pull together in a mixture of confusion and concern as he watches you practically run out of the barn alone with a drink clutched in your hand and a strange expression on your face—you appear to be upset over something.

The blonde in front of him had been going on and on about where she was from, although he hadn’t quite been listening to her the entire time she had been talking—or at all. 

Had Esther said Vermont? Or maybe it had been Virginia?

Joel wasn’t all too sure, but he didn’t care enough to ask her to clarify. Besides, his thoughts were far too busy preoccupied with someone else. Someone he needed to make sure was alright.

“Listen Esther, s’been real nice talkin’ to you,” he states as he offers the woman the most polite smile he can possibly muster up for her. He tries to ignore the awkward way she’d pouted her lips at him, a sad, disappointed look flashing in her eyes. “But I’ve gotta go and take care of somethin’ for a minute. Will you excuse me?”

He doesn’t even give Esther the chance to respond. Setting his drink down on the counter, he gives her a quick nod goodbye and steps around her. He starts towards the barn’s exit, but before leaving, he tosses a quick glance in Ellie’s direction just to make sure she’s still doing okay without him. He had been keeping a close and watchful eye on her from the bar the entire time. After a while, it soon became apparent to Joel that Ellie had been doing just fine. She’s scarfing down another heaping helping of bison and potatoes, grinning from ear to ear as she talks with Dina, who seems to be enjoying her company despite her poor table manners.

Joel steps outside into the night and he takes a look around, searching for you among the small, scattered groups of people who stood mingling with one another. Gossiping women, drunk and rowdy patrolmen, children running around—he jumps slightly as a giggling little redheaded girl who can’t be older than five circles around his legs with a curly haired boy who is about the same age chasing after her. He lightly shoos them away from him and they take off running in another direction.

He scans his surroundings once more.

You’re nowhere to be found.

Humming, Joel glances down.

He notices a long trail of footprints left behind by what had to be a pair of cowboy boots, similar to the ones you’d been wearing. The strange way in which they veered off in a random direction away from the rest of the crowd tips him off almost a bit too easily—he knows they belong to you. Without giving it a second thought, he starts to follow your tracks and they lead him all the way around to the back of the barn.

That’s where Joel finds you, leaning against the wooden paddock fence. You’re back is to him, your head tilted upwards. Your gaze seems to be lost somewhere up in the velvet, purple night sky and you’re swaying along to the pretty country melody that, even outside, can still be heard coming from inside the barn.

Turn around, a sound voice in the back of his mind tries to reason with him. Go go back inside.

He ignores it, his legs moving forward, eager to close the distance between the two of you.

The sound of his heavy boots crunching on the rocks in the dirt as he draws closer to you causes you to jump. Whirling around, you gasp and your free hand flies to your chest.

“M’sorry,” Joel quickly apologizes, holding up both his hands to show you he’s not a threat. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Joel?” You’re surprised to see him.  “What are you doing out here?”

The area out behind the barn is just as dark as it is secluded, however, the moon is full, big, and bright, its silvery glow illuminating each and every single one of your features in such a beautiful way that it makes his throat go dry, just like it had earlier that evening when he’d first seen you in that dress.

“Well ain’t that funny. I was actually just ‘bout to ask you the same exact question, darlin’.” He falls into step beside you, leaning back against the fence. “What are you doin’ out here all by your lonesome?”

“Oh, I just needed some fresh air, that’s all,” you reply with a small, light shrug of your shoulders. You turn back around, leaning your forearms on top of the wooden fence, both hands wrapped firmly around your glass of whiskey. You’re standing so close to Joel that your shoulder touches his, though neither of you make a move to put space in between your bodies. “What’s your excuse?”

“Needed a breather from Esther,” he confesses. 

It was partially the truth. 

He couldn’t tell you he’d really come outside to check on you.

“What do you mean? Didn’t you like her?”

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s nice and all,” Joel says, letting out a chuckle. He shakes his head. “She just ain’t the kind of company I’m lookin’ for tonight, y’know?” He pauses for just a brief second and crosses his arms over his chest, his sudden change in position causing his shoulder to press even closer against your own. “Tommy mentioned her to me when we were havin’ lunch together yesterday. Said he’d be willin’ to set us up, but I didn’t think his dumbass would actually follow through with it.”

Confused, you shoot him a strange look.

“I’d told him I wasn’t interested in meetin’ her, but Tommy’s always had a real habit of not listenin’ to me,” he remarks, shaking his head once again.

The question falls from your lips before you can even think about trying to stop it. “Why aren’t you interested in her?” you blurt. Awkwardly, you clear your throat and add in a nonchalant tone, “Esther’s gorgeous, Joel. Most guys around here would jump at the chance to be with her.”

“S’like I told you. She just ain’t the kind of company I’m lookin’ for tonight.”

“So then, what kind of company are you looking for?”

Joel hesitates, then answers honestly. “Yours.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, your heart skipping a nervous beat.

He tests the waters. “That alright to say?”

“Mhm,” is all you’re able to utter.

Fighting to take a steady, even breath, you clutch at your glass even harder. 

“Y’know, when I was on my way out here, I saw Ellie and Dina still sittin’ together,” Joel finally says after a minute or two, breaking the silence. “She honestly seems to be havin’ a real good time with her.” He nudges your shoulder with his own, a hint of amusement in his voice as he turns to you and asks, “Now tell me why I’ve got this strange little feelin’ that you had somethin’ to do with that?”

Your immediate expression of guilt prompts his grin. 

You’d been caught red handed.

“Okay, so I may or may not have talked to Dina earlier today while we were setting up the barn for the party. I asked if she could do me a favor and at least try and talk to Ellie tonight,” you admit, sheepishly. “I told her about how much Ellie reminds me of her, and how I thought they would get along.” You feel his dark eyes fix themselves intently on you and the heat creeps to your cheeks as you continue to explain yourself to him. It’s only just now occurred to you that perhaps you should have ran the idea by Joel—he’s her guardian and the last thing you want to do is cross his boundaries. “It took a little convincing, but she agreed. Dina can still be quite shy sometimes, but she’s a really good girl, Joel. I promise.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at you, letting his arms fall down to his sides. “Really? You did that?”

“Yeah. I did.” Anxiously, you take a long sip of liquor before adding, “I hope that’s okay.”

“‘Course it is, darlin’. I really appreciate you doin’ that for Ellie.” Joel’s gaze softens and meets yours with genuine sincerity. “I appreciate everythin’ that you’ve done for her. It means a lot to me. More than I can probably even explain.”

“I can tell how important she is to you.”

Joel nods. “Ellie’s the most important thing in the world to me.” He stops, exhaling a long, heavy sigh. “She’s been through a whole lot—a hell of a lot more than anyone her age should have to go through.” Once again, he pauses momentarily, trying to keep his emotions in check. He swallows harshly and subconsciously leans closer towards you without realizing it. “Ellie, she ain’t my blood, but she’s my daughter. For a long time, I thought I couldn’t take care of her. I thought that I didn’t have what it takes to protect her.”

“And what about now?”

“Now that we’re here, I feel real different ‘bout it all. I finally feel like I can keep Ellie safe, y’know? Give her the life she deserves,” Joel states, sounding a bit relieved, almost like he’s only just now made the realization that things are different now—it’s not like it was while they’d been out on the road. Each day isn’t a fight for survival, a game of trying to stay alive long enough just to see the next. Sleeping in the dirt, watching her go hungry, seeing her have to wear the same dirty clothes for weeks at a time, those were all now things of the past.

Pulling yourself back from the fence, you glance up at him with a curious expression. 

“Ellie hasn’t told me all that much about what she’s gone through—about what either of you have gone through.” You catch sight of the worry that flashes in his eyes and reassure him, “And I don’t plan on asking because it isn’t any of my business. But in the short time I’ve gotten to know Ellie, I’ve already seen it in her eyes, Joel. It’s all there.”

“What’s there?”

“Every bad thing that’s ever happened to her.”

Joel hangs his head. “Jesus.”

And just like that, he somehow feels like a fucking failure all over again.

“I know that you’re worried about her, Joel. I don’t blame you, but you’re doing all that you can do,” you remind him, the kindness in your voice bringing him the warmth and comfort he’s been needing for far too long. “You’re here in the community now and she’s safe. That’s what matters—all the rest is going to fall right into place soon enough. Just give her a bit of time and don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”

Joel sighs. “I just want what’s best for her, y’know? Just like any normal parent would want for their kid.”

“And you are doing the best that you can, just like any normal parent would.” You reach out, gently placing your hand on his bare forearm, your thumb brushing his warm skin. Your mere touch sends a tingle up his spine, and he can’t help but wonder if the connection had done the same for you. “It’s easy to see how much you care about her. How much you love her.”

“I do love her,” he murmurs. It feels odd, almost foreign for him to say it out loud. Of course he loves Ellie, and although he’s fairly certain she knew that and she loved him too, those three specific words had never been exchanged between them, and he had a hunch they never would be. “All I want is to do right by her. After everythin’ she’s been through—I just want her to finally be happy.”

“That says a lot about the kind of man you are.”

Biting back a scoff, Joel shakes his head. He doesn’t want you thinking he’s a good person—you’d be horrified if you knew about all the blood that stained his hands, about all of the things he’d done in the last two decades to survive. He’d stolen, he’d destroyed, he’d murdered. He’d lied.

He was not a good man. 

Your hand drops away from his arm, a lot sooner than either of you would have liked.

“So, what’s your story?” he asks, deciding to switch the focus of the conversation onto you. “How’d you end up in good ol’ Jackson, Wyoming?” 

“You take another sip of your drink, which is now completely watered down by the melted ice in your glass. “Well, like I told you, I grew up in New Mexico on a horse ranch. It was me, my parents, and my little brother,” you start to explain. “After the outbreak happened, me and my family ended up in the Albuquerque QZ. We were there for quite some time, until there was a breach at one of the gates and the zone was overrun with infected.” You pause briefly as the memories of that night come flooding back. By now, you’ve repressed them enough that they don’t bring you to your knees the way they used to when you had been younger. “Me and my dad made it out alive, but my mom and my brother didn’t.”

Joel frowns. “Shit. M’real sorry, darlin’. I shouldn’t have asked—”

“It’s okay,” you assure him with a tiny nod. “After me and my dad made it out of the zone, we found this group of people who were heading east, trying to get to Boston. It wasn’t long before everyone started to get picked off one by one—by infected, raiders, and even slavers. Somehow, me and my dad survived all that, but we found ourselves alone again. We were starving, had no shelter, and winter was just around the corner. We honestly didn’t know what we were going to do, and even though neither of us ever said it to each other, we were both so sure we were going to die. But then Tommy and his patrol group came across us one night. Once we proved that neither of us were infected, he brought us in.”

“You’ve been through a lot,” Joel states. He never would have even guessed.

You just seemed so well put together.

“Haven’t we all?” You let out a humorless laugh.

A silence falls like a curtain over both of you, but it’s comfortable.

Tranquil. 

Although it had been a warmer night, it was now much later into the evening, and a chilly breeze whips its way through the settlement, whisking its cool and crisp fingers through your hair. It causes the white daisy you’d been wearing to fall, and the flower flutters to the ground, landing right in between Joel’s boots. Without giving it a second thought, he reaches down and picks it up, being careful as he gingerly dusts the dirt off of the delicate petals. He turns to you, tucking the flower back behind your ear. As his hand falls away from you, his index finger accidentally grazes the soft skin of your cheek, and every part of him floods with the burning desire to feel more of you.

“M’sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbles sheepishly.

“It’s quite alright,” you say—and you mean it. You can’t even remember the last time someone’s touch set you on fire like this. You’d been feeling cold and empty and numb for so long, and while all of the things that Joel’s making you feel had become almost foreign to you, they’re starting to reignite that spark of life inside of you that you thought you’d lost a long time ago.

From the inside of the barn, you and Joel hear the band begin to play their cover of Can’t Help Falling in Love. 

“Elvis, huh?” Joel muses with a hum. He sounds impressed.

You’re not sure if all the alcohol you’d been consuming throughout the evening has only now just decided to kick into full gear in your system or whether you really do just lack any kind of common sense, but you find yourself looking up at him shyly through your eyelashes. “How about another dance?”

His lips part slightly in surprise. “To this song?”

Every inch of your skin burns hot with embarrassment and your fingers curl tighter around your glass. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s just that I really love to dance,” you sputter out nervously, wishing you had kept your mouth shut. You only dig yourself further into the hole as you continue to ramble. “Luke doesn’t like to dance. He never wants to dance with me—”

That’s all Joel had needed to hear.

He reaches for your glass, prying it out of your grasp. He sets it down on top of the fence and holds his hand out to you. “I’ll dance with you, darlin’.”

Looking up at him in surprise, you accept and place your hand in his. His other hand finds your waist and the two of you begin swaying along to the music—a smile that could light up the entire town breaks out across your face. 

Joel didn’t know Luke, but he couldn’t fathom how the man you were married to wouldn’t do just about anything to see that smile.

“Wait, I thought you couldn’t dance,” you tease, noticing that he’s leading you.

Flashing you a cocky grin, he shrugs. “Guess the kid was right. I ain’t so bad for fifty six with creakin’ knees.”

Remembering Ellie’s words from earlier, you throw your head back and laugh.

His stomach turns, twisting in a tangle of desire and nerves.

You’re married.

But that does nothing to stop the want, the need. 

For either of you.

Being in his arms, it’s wrong.

It’s more than an innocent dance—it’s the beginning of something that’s bound to lead to nothing but trouble and you both know it.

Joel continues to lead you and begins singing along to the familiar lyrics, quietly, but just loud enough for you to hear the sultry richness of his voice. “Like a river flows, surely to the sea,” he sings, subconsciously giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Darlin’ so it goes, some things are meant to be.”

Impressed, you raise an eyebrow at him. “You’ve got a nice voice, Joel.”

“Y’think so?”

You nod. “I do. What, were you a singer in your first life or something?”

“Close.”

“Really? What did you do?”

“I was a contractor,” Joel replies, grinning as he elicits another sweet laugh from you. “Owned my own construction business with Tommy. I did enjoy singin’ though—and playin’ the guitar too. But it was a hobby more than anythin’ since I don’t think music would’ve paid the bills.”

You smile up at him. “Oh, well now you’re going to have to play the guitar for me sometime. Maybe even treat me to a whole song?”

“I still owe Ellie a song,” he remembers, shaking his head. “But I don’t have a guitar, so it gets me out of it.”

“Well then, we’re going to have to find you one and when we do, you’ll have to play something for us,” you tell him. “Deal?”

“Deal.” Joel agrees without thinking. He starts singing along to the lyrics again. “Take my hand, take my whole life too—” 

“But I can’t help falling in love with you.” You try not to laugh again at the shock on his face as you finished the lyric for him.

“Hey now, you’ve got a real nice voice yourself, darlin’.”

Darlin’. 

You shouldn’t let him call you that.

Out of respect for your husband, you should tell him it’s not okay. None of this is okay.

But it is okay. 

“Oh, now you’re just trying to flatter me, Miller,” you accuse him, playfully. 

The song ends and neither of you make a move to let go of one another.

Joel’s eyes fall to your pretty, plush lips and it takes every ounce of strength he has inside of him not to lean down and press his own lips against them.

Finally, he forces himself to let you go and takes a step backward, clearing his throat. “I should, uh—I should go and find Ellie so I can get her home. S’gettin’ kinda late.”

You nod, your heart slamming painfully against your sternum. “Of course,” you say, slightly breathless. “I’ll come along with you so I can say goodnight to her.”

As the two of you make your way around the barn and back towards the entrance, Joel sees a tall, slender man with short dark hair approaching. He’d called out your name and something inside Joel’s mind just clicks together—he knows exactly who the man is before you’ve even had a chance to open your mouth and say his name.

“Luke?” Stopping abruptly in your tracks, you stiffen and squeak out his name. “What—what are you doing here?”

“There you are, honey.” He comes up to you and immediately takes your arm, pulling you from Joel’s side and over to his. “Tommy told me you might be out here. I was just coming to look for you.”

It takes thirty seconds for Joel to size him up. Luke’s younger than himself, definitely closer in age to Tommy—somewhere around his mid to late forties. He’s a lot more clean cut than most of the other rugged men in the commune with his short, neatly kept dark hair and a clean shaven face. Though he’s on the thinner side, he’s in decent shape, but Joel’s wider, broader and far, far more intimidating.

“What are you doing here?” you ask again.

“Now, is that really how a loving wife should greet her husband?” Luke laughs, pulling you even closer into his side. 

Joel isn’t all too fond of the way he’s holding you. 

He’s rough, harsh.

“I decided to come and check it out. See what all the fuss is about,” Luke says. He glances at Joel, his green eyes giving him a once over—sizing him up, just like Joel had done to him. “Don’t be rude, honey. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend here?”

You speak softly, almost too softly.

“Luke, this is Joel Miller.”

“Ah. You’re Tommy’s brother, right?”

Joel tries not to sound too curt, but fails. “That’s right.”

“Joel, this is Luke.” You can’t even look him in the eye as you introduce your spouse. “He’s my husband.”

Luke extends a courteous hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Joel.” His other hand finds and takes yours. “I do hope that my wife here hasn’t been bothering you tonight. She can be quite the little chatterbox. Makes me wish she came with a mute button sometimes.”

Joel’s dark eyes briefly flit to Luke’s hand holding yours, taking note of the way he’s gripping it so tightly that his knuckles had gone white. Between that and the comment he’d just made about you, Joel had every fucking desire to connect his fist to the side of Luke’s face.

“Luke, please,” you whisper, throwing him a tiny glare. 

“Oh come on now, honey. Where did your sense of humor go? You know I’m only joking,” Luke states, squeezing your hand a little harder, causing you to squirm.

Something tells Joel he’s not kidding around.

He’d meant what he had said.

“She hasn’t been a bother at all,” Joel speaks in your defense. “Actually, I came out here to talk to her and to thank her for bein’ so kind to my kid, Ellie. Your wife here, she’s been nothin’ but good to her since we arrived.”

“Well, as long as she wasn’t being a bother.” Luke glances down at you. “If you’ll excuse us, there’s a few people that I still need to see and say hello to inside. Come along, honey.” He glances at Joel, a strange glint in his eye as he tells him, “Welcome to Jackson, Joel.”

His jaw clenches as he watches him drag you into the barn.

Nothing about Luke sat right with him.

The way he’d spoken to you, touched you, treated you.

And then there was you.

The light had instantly left your eyes the second he’d come around. 

Something wasn’t right.

A rough hand on his shoulder startles him out of his thoughts.

“Really, Joel? Really? Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Tommy hisses, yanking him over to the side of the barn where nobody would overhear him. “What the fuck did I tell you yesterday in the mess hall?”

“The hell are you fuckin’ talkin’ ‘bout?”

His brother glares at him. “I know that you ain’t as fuckin’ dumb as you look, Joel. What the fuck were you doin’ out here alone with her? Huh?”

Joel purses his lips together tightly in silence.

What had he seen?

Having read his mind, Tommy shoves his shoulder. “You were dancin’ with her you fuckin’ asshole? Did you fuckin’ forget that she’s a married woman?”

Joel rolls his eyes at him and aggressively shoves his hand off of his shoulder. “We were just dancin’ together, alright? Ain’t like we were makin’ out, Tommy. Can you fuckin’ relax?”

“I don’t give a fuck, Joel! If I saw any man that wasn’t me dancin’ with Maria like that, I’d be fuckin’ pissed. I’d kick his fuckin’ ass,” he spits. “Her husband just showed up to the goddamn party. You’re fuckin’ lucky that it was me who saw you out there with her and not him. What if he’d seen you two? Then what?”

“Christ, Tommy. Relax,” Joel tries again to calm him. “It was just a dance, alright? It was nothin’ more than that. Okay?”

“You listen to me and you listen to me good, ‘cause I ain’t fuckin’ gonna say it again, big brother. Don’t go gettin’ any ideas ‘bout her. I don’t need you to go around stirrin’ up any kind of trouble,” Tommy says, his voice firm. “We can’t have that kinda shit here. Maria won’t tolerate it, and y’know what, I won’t either. Don’t fuckin’ cause problems. Got it?”

“Didn’t plan on it,” Joel mutters, bitterly.

Tommy narrows his eyes at him.

“Just fuckin’ watch yourself, Joel,” he warns. “I fuckin’ mean it.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fluff #joel miller #joel miller hbo #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller angst #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller series #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal imagine #fic: a safe haven #fic: ash

[dragonrider9905]

Heart Made of Flesh

Hello @echos-girlfriend! I'm your Secret Santa for @cloneficgiftexchange! I really hope you enjoy it :) @ghostofskywalker, thank you for setting this up!

Anyone else who reads, I hope you enjoy it too! Reblogs and comments welcome :)

Warnings: Talk of insecurity, self depreciation, allusions (very light) to suggestive behavior, talk of blood and wounds

Summery: You and Echo are more similar than you let on. You have a mechanical arm but don’t want that to be the only reason he connects with you. You also just don’t know how to tell him how you feel. A mission gone wrong should fix that for you, right?

You bit your lip harder, unconsciously drawing blood. You didn’t mean to stare but they just wouldn’t stop. 

And it was rather annoying. 

You tried to keep your gaze on your glass, multiple times forcing your eyes down, your breathing even, minding your own business but that just wasn’t working. 

You and the Batch had gone to Cid’s for drinks after a particularly long mission. You all were tired, hungry, dirty—and apparently a little testy. Or at least that is what your case was. Most of the boys sat at a table in the center of the floor while you opted for the counter. It was getting a little uncomfortable, so you thought the boys wouldn’t notice your shifting or rotating your ‘arm’ if you were a little distance away. They definitely weren’t noticing you with all those pretty girls flirting with them. 

Not too long ago, (but too long in your opinion) a Torgrutan, two Twi'leks and two human women came into Cid’s bar, for what was uncertain. They spotted the table of fine young men and immediately started flirting. Even though the boys tried to brush them off, they didn’t leave. Well the boys could have tried harder, the sour thought emerged from the dark, bitter place in the corner of your mind. You couldn’t help it. You knew you were being unfair but…  

“You don’t look too good.” Omega broke through the mud in your mind, concerned eyes searched your face. “Are you ok?”

That was the other reason you felt they could have tried harder. Omega was right here sitting with you. (Granted they were Cid’s patrons and she threatened you bunch often enough about not scaring people away—or she’d deduct your pay and Hunter needed every credit he earned for his squad. You knew the boys were in an uncomfortable spot but still.)

You sighed. “Thanks hun, I’m fine.” You ruffled her hair, a burning sensation creeping up from your gut to your chest. Bile rumbled uncomfortably in your stomach, mixing with the alcohol and threatening your gag reflexes with acid. Not good. It wasn’t her fault you were feeling like her babysitter just so the guys could have fun. You loved Omega and wanted to spend time with her usually; her company was always a delight.  This unusual resentment had a selfish stem and you knew it. It was because those strange women were flirting openly and carelessly with the man you had fallen deep, deep down for, but never had the courage to confront. The fact that they were spending time with someone close to you that by all rights…should be yours. 

Yet he wasn’t. So you really didn’t have a right to feel that way. But you did. Shocker.

“Hey beautiful, I have an idea…” the Twi’lek whispered something in Echo’s ear, causing him to blush. He let his mouth open, shocked. You didn’t have to hear what she said to know what was implied, a subtle rage now coursing through your veins. Thank the Force Omega was oblivious.

You gripped the glass in your hand.

And shattered it. 

Omega gasped at the soft crackle and crink. The pieces falling all around your hand and embedding themselves deep into the thick gloves you were wearing.

“Are you alright?” Omega’s eyes were blown out, hands covering her mouth in horror at the damage your right hand must be undergoing. 

“On second thought, I am heading back to the ship. Go get Bolo to play a game of Djarik with you. Or better yet, ask one of your brothers. I need some air.” You got up quickly, hiding your hand that should be bleeding but wasn’t.

Without turning around, you left the bar. So, you didn’t see the commotion you left behind.

— — — —

You straddled Tech’s workbench, your own set of tools spread out before you. The tiny tools you carried with you at all times in case all the intricate wires in your false, mechanical arm needed to be fixed, fused or fidgeted with. You creased your brows in frustration, watching the yellow sparks fly as you worked the glass carefully from where it was embedded. A sewing kit was carelessly sitting at your side, as you’d have to fix your ruined glove as well. Sometimes you forgot what strength was in this arm. 

You lost your right arm as a child. You’d learned how to cope with it and make it a “normal” part of your life. But a little part of you still was insecure about it so you’d always found a way to cover it up, hiding it physically and mentally from those around you, especially those closest to you. You’d only known the Batch since they came to work for Cid, but since then you grew close to them. And the closer you got, the harder it was to admit your insecurity, wondering if it would change their perception of you. 

Ah crap. You felt the sharp edges pull from your false sensors and you cringed, clenching your jaw.

“Let me see that hand of yours.” A familiar husky voice broke through your brooding. 

“Blow off, Hunter.”

Hunter was the only one who knew about your mechanical arm. He could smell the oil you used to keep it well functioning even though you custom made it to be without scent. His darn enhanced senses picked it up anyway, and thus you let him in on your little secret albeit reluctantly. It wasn’t by your choice how it came about…You knew he knew but he never brought it up…Until the night he found you trying to repair your arm after sustaining an injury. Your face was so red that first night he walked in on you, tears barely being held back while you tried in vain to fix it yourself in the dead middle of the night, he knew how important it was that no one knew.

“Ah, you’re just saying that.” he teased, letting the ghost of a smile appear. Hunter straddled the workbench facing you and grabbed your wrist, gently pulling it toward himself. He kept his gaze down, hyperfocused on rewiring your hand correctly and pulling the shrapnel from the fine work of machinery.

You looked up annoyed and sighed dramatically with a roll of your eyes. He smirked but otherwise stayed silent. You matched his quietness with an ante of sulkiness. 

“You should just talk to him about how you feel, you know.”

“You don’t understand. NONE of you do! It’s not the same for me as it is for you guys. When men look at this, they automatically see me as incomplete and undesirable. Do you know how…how…” you choked up, swallowing hard. “You men always have an air of awe when there is a wound but a woman? I can’t tell you how embarrassing it is.”

“That’s not fair.” Hunter wasn’t one to sugar coat. “And you know it.”

You did, so you sucked on your swollen lip instead.

“Echo would understand, though. Wouldn’t you feel better being able to talk to him about some of this?”

“I know he does. He probably is the only one who does. But I don’t want to be pitied. And worse off, I don’t want him to like me just because we’re similar. I want him to like me for me…the way I love him for him.” You nearly whispered that last part.

Hunter sighed and gently said your name.

“Look, I’m sorry that we all made you uncomfortable and that we don’t understand what it is like. I really am.”

You looked up and saw his eyes searching the floor, as if it would give him the answer. His genuine concern melted your bitterness away, just like the night he’d found you.

“Hunter, it’s ok. I’m sorry too. You didn’t deserve that…I’m out of sorts and took it out on you; which was wrong. You may not understand but you’ve always tried to make me feel valued… and you never treated me differently, which I appreciate. Thank you.”

“Hey, I learned it from the best…that’s Echo, I mean. I learned it from Echo.”

A smile pulled at your lips. “Sure you did.” 

— — — —  

You didn’t think anyone would notice your absence but it most definitely was. Everyone heard the glass shatter, Hunter immediately slipped away slyly to check on you with a quick “I got this” and Omega ran right to Echo. She initially reached out to help you but you were faster in your quick departure. He stood up so fast, with such an angry outburst, worried about what happened (you shattered a kriffing glass in your hand?!) and it frightened the ladies away.

He felt concern rising from somewhere in his chest, written clearly on his brow. He took a step but Omega held onto his hand.

“Hunter said she was ok.”

“She’s hurt, I should go check on her…” 

Granted, he knew how private of a person you were. You didn’t let anyone near you—ever—when you were injured, but your hand must be torn to shreds…he winced at the ghost pain that flared up in his own. He flexed it a few times to convince himself the cold, sharp shards he felt were in his mind and not real. His hand wasn’t really bleeding. It wasn’t hurt….he took a deep breath.

Echo needed to make sure you were ok. Even if you didn’t want to be helped…

“Echo, why don’t you just talk to her about how you feel?”

Echo eyed his large younger brother but found no hint of humor in Wrecker’s question. Instead, he saw that gentle gaze of honesty in his eyes.

“Because she deserves better. Plus, she’s not even interested. I don’t want to ruin our friendship by blabbering how I feel.” 

“Did you notice the glass she shattered was only after that suggestive comment was made to you.” Tech adjusted his goggles. “She’s heard people flirt with us before on various missions and occasions. There is a special scowl that only appears when such an occurrence happens to you. She thinks she hides it well but she doesn’t. She never has such a negative reaction until you show up, Echo.”

“How is that relevant?”

“Are you asking a serious question?” Tech blinked. “Or are you trying to be jocular.”

“I literally have no clue what you are saying or trying to imply!” Echo threw his hands up, scowling in his voice as well as his expression.  

“You don’t? Or don’t want to?” Wrecker raised his eyebrow. 

Echo crossed his arms and tapped his foot. 

“Echo, perhaps…” Omega nervously wrung her hands, obviously trying not to upset him, “maybe it would be better to say something sooner rather than later. Life’s too unpredictable. One day the person you care about is there and the next, they’re gone. Wouldn’t it be better to let that person know they’re loved than regretting never telling them?” 

Echo sighed, shoulders dropping in a tired slump. 

“Maybe you’re right,” he chuckled and ruffled her hair, “when’d you become so wise?”

“Eh, always was. Nice of you to notice.”

“So, you will take advice from Omega, and not us?” Tech fought a smirk.

“Yeah what’s with that?” Wrecker chimed in, visibly pleased.

“Didn’t you hear? Omega is the wisest.”

Echo ran his hand down his face with a sigh of anticipation. He knew he had to do this soon, but….a little time wouldn’t hurt right? He needed the right words.

— — — —

It was a few rotations later and the Batch was assigned a new mission from Cid…and Echo still hadn’t said anything to you. He pointedly ignored his brothers’ silent prompts and either sighed or shrugged at Omega with a “it’s not a good time” or “I don’t know what to say yet.”

The job was a two parter.

Hunter paired you up with Echo for the intel, Tech would stay on the ship with Omega to be ready for a quick get away, while Wrecker and Hunter went for the cargo that was demanded. None of you knew what the two pieces had in common, especially on a pirate ship, but you were getting paid a good price. Hunter initially wanted to turn down the job but the credits were needed, and Cid didn’t give much room for negotiation. 

“You ready?” Echo had some strain in his voice.

“Yeah, how hard can an extraction be?” You shrugged. “It’ll be fine.”

Echo opened his mouth and shut it a few times, flustered, searching for words. 

“Just keep your head up.” He finally said, putting on his helmet and hiding his face. Not really what you wanted to hear…he sighed then walked away. You stood there for a few minutes, digesting the strange conversation. Echo never acted this weird before a mission.

You wanted to ask him about it but never got the chance, it was time to board.

— — — —

Something went wrong. Hunter and Wrecker gave you and Echo the signal they had the cargo but you were still getting the intel. They headed back to the ship to make sure the crate was secure. Apparently, from the sounds of Wrecker’s grunting, it was heavy. 

“Echo, come on, hurry up!” You trained your blaster down the halls, looking left and right. Your brows scrunched up and sweat beaded your forehead. 

“Almost got it. Be patient.” he snapped back.

“Echo…I have a strange feeling. I don’t like this.” You turned to see your reflection staring back at you with a strange expression on Echo’s visor. His head was turned at a curious angle, his breathing slightly heavier. He always took your feelings seriously; at better times he joked that they rivaled the Jedi’s ‘feelings’. 

“Okay, hold tight.”  

Was there slight fear in his voice?

“Echo?” Now your breathing started to increase rapidly. You’d never felt this unsettled on a mission. 

You didn’t have time to ponder more, shots came out of nowhere. You threw yourself in front of Echo and started firing back.

Karking pirates. 

“I got it! Let’s go!” You felt Echo pull his scomp out of the portal and wrap his arm around your waist. You’ve done this move before. There was a door next to you. You’d just roll over each other into the other room…but something caught your eye. The door opened, a sneaky pirate trying to get at Echo from the back. He raised his arm to aim and…

Bam!

The shot went off; but before it did, you twisted yourself in front of Echo. Shots rang out (you assumed Echo shot the man behind you) in unison with your scream. You heard Echo shouting your name in panic, pulling your writhing body behind the door, and barricading you on the other side. His calls went from panic to insistent now, then confused. He expected blood…not sparks.

You peeled your eyes open and brought your other hand up to detach your arm. The flames crawling up to your brain telling you your arm was shreds immediately stopped. You heaved a breath and sat up. 

“Shoot.” You mumbled, looking at the shambles your arm was in. How many times had that pirate shot it?

“Hey, you ok?” Echo removed his helmet and his eyes were searching your body. “What were you doing? You could have gotten killed!” Despite his reprimand, his voice was soft, probably still processing what happened.

“I was thinking I didn’t want to see you dead.”

“I don’t want you dead either.”

“J-just he-lp me, will you?” You started scooping up the pieces into your pack. Echo quickly came to help. 

“Your balance will be off a little, will you be ok if I rigged the ship?”

“Yeah, yeah,” still trying to catch your breath, you wanted to give an air of confidence though, “go for it.” 

Echo stuck his hand back into the scomp and commed the boys. You tuned it out, the world (the ship) around you starting to shake. You knew you were spiraling but you couldn’t stop it. 

He knew. Now what was going to happen? He took that rather well. He was sort of ignoring it and you didn’t know if you were relieved or upset. 

And…how lucky were you that it was that arm, and not your good one? 

You hugged your pack. It felt a little morbid carrying pieces of your arm in your pack. It was mechanical but still. It had been a part of you for so long, it was so strange. Echo’s hand appeared on your shoulder, giving it a grounding squeeze. 

“We have to get to the hanger! They’ll meet us there!”

Your musings would have to wait.

— — — —

The ship was falling apart. Explosions wrecking the hangar and surrounding you and Echo with fire, causing the ship to shake and the floor to become unstable.  

“Echo look out!” Your warning came too late. Echo was knocked off his feet from an explosion next to him. The force pushed him out the hanger and plummeting toward the earth below. You cried out in terror, shrieking as you threw yourself toward the edge. Echo had grappled onto a loose piece of the ship. You wrapped your legs around some metal beams where the wall of the ship was blown away. You then balanced your body so it could support the extra weight of the one you were trying to reach. It was difficult not having the balance of your other arm.

“Take my hand!” You shouted above the din.

“No! If I do you’ll fall too! I can’t let you die!”

“Why not? I can’t let you die either, you idiot!”

“What do you mean ‘why not?”

“Just shut up and take my hand or I swear I’ll jump.”

Echo didn’t move so you started shimming closer, loosening your grip a little. That seemed to spook him so he darted his hand in your direction. You stretched out your hand further to meet his and gripped him hard as he let go. You were now his only lifeline.

“Alright! You are so stubborn.” 

“Only because I love you, you idiot.”

“You’ve said that….wait, you love me?”

It was almost as if you could see the look of shock through his helmet. You started to chuckle, looking at his dazed dangling form. The piece he was hanging from fell not two minutes later.

“You’ll have to climb…I can’t pull you up!”

Darn fine time to lose your arm again.

You felt like your rib cage splitting in two from the pressure. You couldn’t remember the last time your breathing felt so constrained. Every breath in stretched your chest impossibly farther, trying to lift the invisible bantha sitting there, every exhale set your chest on fire. Echo’s hand gripped your good arm and his scomp dug into your flesh. You wanted to cry out but couldn’t. An invisible hand gripped your throat as you pulled, trying to get him to the ledge. 

Then Echo slipped a little. Another explosion went off and jolted you. You had to fight hard to keep your grip even if your balance was lost. 

“Co-ome o-ohn Eeekoo, don’t. Give. Up. Climb!”

“Mesh’la, you have to let me go. I’m too heavy. Save yourself. I need you to be safe.”

“D-don’t you dare gih-ive up.” Tears were streaming down your eyes now and you didn’t care. “Don’t ask me to do that.” 

Echo’s grip loosened a little, and your heart, already overworked, started to increase its speed. “I can’t let you die either; because I love you too. I’ve loved you so long and should’ve told you. I’m sorry. I just thought…”

“Echo, don’t let go, please.”

“Mesh’la…”

“Echo, stop speaking gibberish and use the strength to climb instead of talk!”

You had to imagine the smile on Echo’s face. You felt the hardened grip return, along with the agonizing feeling of being split in half. You started to count to keep yourself calm.

“One…two…three…”

The world around you was falling away. Not just literally from the sky but the ceiling and walls started to blur, black clouded the edges of your vision.

“Seven…eight…nine…”

Then a buzzing sound broke through the haze. It sounded familiar…close…Echo whooped. It got closer…and closer…then the lights and hum of The Marauder announced its saving presence. You heard the hatch open and the shouts of the others. Echo’s grip suddenly disappeared and his weight was gone. Air forced its way into your lungs in a gasp. You wanted to call out to Echo but your energy was gone. You heaved and started to lift yourself. 

Until a chunk of metal came falling down, smashing your body. 

Shoot.

You couldn’t move. Your body crushed to the floor, the ship started to shift, gravity pulling you out the door. Your head slammed against another falling object, hard enough to draw blood, dizzying enough to disorient you, but not enough to knock you out. The taste of copper made itself known to your tongue, soon your whole mouth felt the presence of a hot liquid. The black specks returned. They danced and spun, swirling with the flames as your world tilted. 

Your body started to slide in the opposite direction, a hot sticky trail left in your wake. You clamped your eyes shut and found you couldn’t open them.

Well this is it…

Footsteps skidded next to you, shouting grated against the complaining durasteel that creeped and groaned as it was ripping apart, the durasteel was lifted from your body. Strong arms wrapped themselves around you, the distinct feeling of a hand cradling your head and the hard inflexibility of a scomp supporting you. A gentle voice you’d know anywhere whispered:

“Hey, if I’m not allowed to fall, you aren’t either.”

You started to chuckle but a coughing fit replaced the giggle.

“Y-you got to go before the whole thing falls.”

“I’m not leaving you. We end this thing together. Hold on. It’ll be okay, okay? Just stay with me here.”

“Th-e world i-is black…Echo…”

His name stumbling out your mouth was the last thing to ring in your ears.

— — — —

You had the various pieces of your false arm scattered about, fidgeting with a piece here and there but not really doing anything with it. The despondency you felt starting from scratch made you wonder if it was even worth it. You reached up and felt around the stump on your shoulder. The uneven scars, the healed over tissue, the ghost of what was, teasing you in their silent haunting.

Your hand then slipped to your bandaged ribs. Apparently, according to Wrecker (talking excitedly while Echo blushed feverishly in silence), Echo had let himself down onto the boarding ramp and looked up expecting you to follow. When you didn’t, he jumped back up without a second thought onto the unsteady, crashing doomed ship and watched helplessly as…well Wrecker didn’t make you relive it. That was nice of him. 

Echo apparently also didn’t let anyone touch you, too busy bandaging you up himself, barking orders at everyone to get the supplies he needed to wrap your middle and head. 

Wrecker said he’d never seen Echo so “frantic”. It was hard to imagine as Echo was only ever calm….don’t worry, Wrecker re-enacted it for you (until Hunter ushered him through a door and left you alone with the man almost combusting from embarrassment.

“Don’t worry,” Omega whispered to him before slipping out herself, “she already knows. And don’t mind Wrecker, he’s just happy it’s finally happening.”

The memory faded and the silk between your ribs and fingers became real again. Echo hadn’t said anything to you. He’d only taken your hand and squeezed it tight, not looking you in the eye for the longest time. 

“I may have a body of steel…but I’ve got a heart made of flesh, believe it or not, it’s real. And it’s yours. It beats for you. Don’t forget that, please. We’re the same, and I couldn’t have loved you more. I wish you could have told me about it…because I know.” 

With the whisper he left. Despite the ship being small, he had avoided you for an entire rotation already. You knew he was around, you’d heard Hunter talking to him, but you didn’t seek him out.

You looked down uncertainly at your project again and sighed heavily. 

Maybe remaking it isn’t an option. You could ask Tech or Hunter…in a few days. You didn’t feel like this now…maybe you shouldn’t fix it at all. Maybe this was the key to stop working for Cid.

The door opened with a whoosh, footsteps clomping a path toward you. A body slumped on the floor next to you and you felt Echo’s leg brush your own. The contact made your heart leap, eyes darting toward him to find his signature smirk on his face. You scowled and looked away. Your throat was sore and the lump you swallowed only made you feel pitiful.

“I’m sorry…I needed time. Thank you for giving that to me.” 

You nodded, eyes ahead.

“Hunter told me why you didn’t tell me…I figured that but hearing it also pushed me out of my slump. I know you didn’t owe me anything, not an explanation or anything, but I can’t let a moment go by without telling you that this doesn’t change how I see you….I was hurt that you thought I’d …. well it does and it doesn’t, let me start there. It doesn’t because I love you, but it does because I know how brave you’ve been. How could I not admire that! You’re beautiful to me no matter what. Don’t doubt your worth or your beauty which is more than superficial because of this.”

You choked on a sob and Echo brought his arm around slowly, giving you time to shrug him off if you wanted or to move away. Instead, you leaned into his touch.

He leaned close to your ear. “Tell me where to start and we’ll have it back together in no time.”

“I-I don’t think I can, Echo.” 

Tears started to well in your eyes. You couldn’t do this again.

“I…I’m so tired. Of all of it.”

“You don’t have to do this alone; we will do it together.” 

Echo took his real hand with his real fingers and entwined them with your own real hand. You could feel the warmth through his gloves and it went right to your heart. The courage that fled you long ago started to return. Your throat was swollen, so you nodded instead, lips turning up in a smile. 

“Together.”

“But first, I have to finish fixing something else…” 

You looked at him confused, cocking your head to the side, eyes still glistening from the unshed sorrow.

He chuckled but his next words came out airy and nervous.

“Your heart…” 

He leaned in slowly, soft lips latching onto yours. He smiled when you gasped and nearly laughed when you pulled him closer, hand gripping his collar like your lifeline.

“Hey, stop laughing. You have a lot of fixing to do.” You mumbled against his lips. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

Yeah, the arm could wait.

Both your hearts needed some healing, and a kiss was the perfect medicine.

#reader insert #echo x reader #echo x female reader #echo x you #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb omega #tbb x reader #tbb echo #clone force 99 #fanfiction #fanfic #the bad batch #angst with a happy ending #angst and fluff #fluff and angst

[rumbelleshowdown]

Moderator note: There will be only one fic posted for Groups G, H, and J. The other person in each of those groups dropped out.

-

Author: Rose Tea

Group: G

Prompts: Goddess. Let us sail astray. Skunk in the garden.

-

Stuff of Legends

Belle opened the massive tome, eyes darting  across the first page.  Whether she’d read this one already the little maid couldn’t recall. But some books get better each time you read them. She couldn’t count the times  she’d poured over Her Handsome Hero; enthralled in the adventures of Alma and Gideon. 

Blowing away a tiny bit of dust, Belle turned the page. To her surprise, she hadn’t read this one. It contained various legends and stories of the gods and how they controlled  every part of the realms.  

Halfway through the first chapter; however,  at the sudden  noise of footsteps entering the library, Belle paused.   Rumplestiltskin said he’d be  back at sundown. 

Then who—

“Am I disturbing you,  Miss Belle? I could go back out to the garden and explore. Only  something is out there. A skunk, I think.” 

Belle sighed.  Peering over the book, she looked into the dark eyes  of the little master. Well, ‘little’ being a relative term, as Baelfire would protest he is now eight years old. 

“No– No.  You aren’t bothering me” She replied,   giving the boy a friendly smile.  “I have been exploring a little myself. “ She gestured around the room.  “There’s enough books in here for a lifetime!” 

The boy  sat down on the floor.  “So what are you reading  now?”  He asked, face lit up in curiosity.    

“Oh? “ Belle showed him the cover.  “It’s some old stories. About the gods and goddesses. “ She  chuckled. “ I don’t think you’d find it interesting, Bae.” 

Bae shook his head.  “Could you read me one?  I like hearing you read, Miss Belle.  And I think Papa likes it as well.” 

Belle swallowed; keeping back the forming blush.  “He- he does?” She asked, quavering. 

Bae nodded.  “He told me last night.” 

Well, Belle thought,  she could at least read one.  

“Let’s see” she muttered, flipping the pages until back at the beginning.  The page showed a simple drawing of a woman in a blue gown.  “This one?”

Yes!”  Bae moved closer to hear every word. 

—----

There are many legends about this world. From  stories of the smallest ant who worked all summer, to the selkies who can change their shape, to the Black Fairy.  But none is more  beautiful than the tale of the man who loved a goddess. 

Long ago, there lived a lonely man.   No one wanted to  be around him.  And no one completely knew why: some say it was something in his eyes or how he moved.  Others said it was his attitude.  How he always acted rude and utterly callous. Either way, no one wished to come  close to him. 

The man had very few things that mattered to him.  Those being  his wife and son. With them, he felt like he had everything he needed. 

But one day, his wife grew unhappy. She wanted to  venture out into the world.  To see new things and meet new people.  

“Let us sail astray” she would beg at least once a day. 

But he’d refuse.  

Until one day,  the man came home to find his wife had done just that.  She’d  headed off into  the night  with no indication she would return and leaving their son  without a mother. 

This made the man bitter. His son was growing fast and would soon not need him anymore.  The thought of losing everything terrified him. He consulted with  sorcerers and found all sorts of magic. He wanted to try anything he could to ease the fear and hurt he felt. 

His son couldn’t bear to see his father in such a state. He wondered if something could be done to help him. 

—--

Belle caught the wide-eyed look on Bae’s face.  “Should I stop?” 

Bae shrugged.  “Keep reading. I want to hear  how it ends. “ 

—-----

He developed a talent over time:   knowing exactly what someone desired the most and how to get it. Even  if it cost their lives.  This consumed him,  making him fall further  and farther into darkness.  So deep it took him over like a huge wave. 

One  day, however,  when the first flushes of springtime came to the land,  the man saw a beautiful woman. Her eyes such a bright shade of blue, they seem to pierce the darkness  for a moment. 

He could sense something special about her and had to find out. So he  took her to his home. 

“You will stay here for the rest of your days” he declared,  “And we shall never be apart.” 

The woman didn’t like this idea at first.  Why would she want to stay with such a disagreeable man?  She hoped and prayed each day  that he’d let her leave. 

That is until  an afternoon in early autumn.  She had gone out to gather fruit for a pie  when all of a sudden, a great bird attacked her and almost carried off his son.  

 A bit later,  she heard sounds coming from outside.  What the woman saw startled her more than the bird.  That this man, who had been so disagreeable to her cared enough to not harm the bird  upon learning it had a nest full of chicks.   In that moment, she knew there must be more to him.  

—----

 “Miss Belle, this man kind of sounds like Papa.” 

Belle bit her lip as realization of what the boy said dawned on her “He does, doesn’t he?” 

—---

Autumn turned to winter.  The trees once bearing fruit now wore a layer of frost.  The house became colder, as did the man. Any time the woman talked to him,  he snapped at her. 

His breaking point came when she inquired as to the fate of his wife.   He’d yelled at her to leave, to never return.   

The woman cried a pool of tears. She  had grown to love the man in spite of everything.  As she turned to leave the house,  the man noticed something not there before.  

A brilliant glow illuminated the woman: brighter than anything he’d ever seen. The man froze. 

What he hadn’t known was the woman was a goddess; one of great beauty and knowledge.  She came  to find someone who loved  her truly  and thought she’d found it. 

As she left, she said these words:  “You have grown so cold to love that  when it comes, you can’t see it .  I loved you.  And I do hope that  one day  you will come to realize you aren’t immune to the concept. “  

—---

Marking her place with her finger,  Belle turned to the little master. “Did—--Did you like it?” 

There came a long pause before Bae answered. “Miss Belle,  if Papa is the man,  does that mean you are the goddess?” 

“I—-I’m don’t think I am.” She stood up, putting away the book. 

“But do you love Papa ?” 

Thoughts raced through Belle’s mind.  How could she answer that truthfully? 

“Do you?”  Bae repeated.  

-

#rumbelle showdown #round one fic #author: Rose Tea

[moonbonanza]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆ poisoned dream

featuring: ayn/aiyin

summary: the hands of an invisible clock are ticking away the time and yet his rosy eyes remain frozen shut in slumber, your unease continues to grow within this nightmare.

set after the song of spring

an unclouded and gentle sleep was a rarity for you. tossing and turning fervently, the bed would rock with the weight of your half honeyed half rotting memories. you were content here with Ayn, yes; but what had become of everything else you had left behind without so much of a goodbye? the unfinished pages of your black and white manga, that adorably round cat purring on your lap, your paints must be dry too and your easel all dusty by now; wordless creatures lost without your care. when was the last time you had even drawn something? ah yes, in Lars' lonely castle; you remembered now…

sadly, the tinge of frost against your cheek mingled with reminiscence could only do little to distract you from your nightmare. you comforted yourself that this cold dreamscape was only temporary, that it too would fade away until it was just a bitter taste on your lips, bitterly cherry like Ayn’s first kiss. he was caught up in slumber now, this dream-him. tiny rosettes perched within his charcoal hair as it pooled into a little puddle around his sleeping head. his murmuring lashes quivered, heavy with dreams. the princely attire draped around his slender frame looked as pristine and soft as the day he had first taken you into his arms.

it was such a shame that you were separated from Ayn through the mocking sheen of a glass casket. it took everything in you to not smash it into smithereens there and then. but that would only hurt him and you weren’t willing to risk it even if nothing here was real. this was only a dream. yes, just a dream. only a dream and you were going to wake up soon. the merest of dreams… but Ayn looked so very real, didn’t he? all of his details that you had spent ages admiring and proclaiming lovely until he flushed deeper than the color of the strawberries lining one of his beloved chocolate cakes were there.

“Ayn, won’t you wake up now? please… let’s go back together,” your fingers were icicles as they traced over his dainty features protected by the thin layer of glass. a sudden shudder went through the casket. the glass cracked as if by the heat of your longing alone, sharp ends grazing against your fingertips just enough to draw blood. despite the air being frigid enough to freeze thoughts away, a little memory of an abandoned drawing came to you. a young man tucked neatly into the arms of sleep, dreaming in a glass coffin (you hadn’t known that it was Ayn then, how could you?) it was like a sick prophecy come to life, come to haunt you once more-! 

but you were cleverer still. you had heard enough fairy tales to know what to do next even if all of the exact names and details were now lost to you, tangled within the threads of this new world. you kissed Ayn. a sweet pretty thing easily given up without even a murmur of the usual complaints, urgency feeding into your very actions. nothing quite happened. his lashes fluttered for a faint moment (perhaps you were imagining it) however that was that. the apple remained lodged in his throat and time remained frozen around the picture frame but most importantly…

the spell remained unbroken.

notes: srry this is so angsty and melodramatic but snow white ayn am i right had to get that out of my system still he and mc are my babies ! so i will def write something happier for them someday down the line... also excuse me constantly hopping fandoms i like to have a variety of things to write about as you can probably see by now also feel free to hmu if u share similar interests >_<

#for all time x reader #lovebrush chronicles x reader #ayn x reader #aiyin x reader #lbc x reader #lovebrush chronicles #for all time

[dorizardthewizard]

Galactik Football season 3 rewatch, eps 16 - 18

Episode 16:

Nice levitation trick Simbai, but she's just allowed to use the Breath like that? Maybe because she's a flux society member? It does make me realise, since the wars were not so long ago, how many people are walking around who could previously use the the Breath all the time but now aren't allowed. That's kind of crazy!

I do like the idea of them actually learning how to use the Breath in more creative ways!

This soundtrack for Tia's training session is pretty cool

Well done Mei for wearing more weather-appropriate clothes this time!

Mice telling Mark to get it together kdjfskfd time for lover boy to get dunked on for once

FSJHDFKDSF ARTEGOR BEING A COMMENTATOR NOW I LOVE IT

Callie: Do you miss playing when you see your friends on the field? D'jok: Um, I- Callie: Certainly you must think they are still bitter towards you after beating them on Paradisia?

Callie those are some horrible questions leave the man alone 😭

I am once again asking for more Lun-Zeara action. Btw has she ever spoken a line? Fucking Stevens may have spoken more than her

I support the Snow Kids but I love seeing the Wambas winning and having fun <3

GOOOOOAL MICRO-ICE!

Artegor: Listen Barry, to be frank, I'm not a fan of your work

HE'S SUCH A BITCH LOOOL after my rewatch I want to make a compilation of Artegor's commentator moments

Lun-Zaera is CHILLING lmao, also I just checked the wiki for the spelling of her name and it's about as consistent as the Wamba's hair colour.

Why is Woowamboo being such a dick. She's trying her best!

Awwww D'jok cheering on the Snow Kids

Mei is carrying the defence in this match like the queen she is <3

Artegor contributes a more technical analysis of the game which is pretty cool

WOOWAMBOO FOULING?? I mean fouls aren't really rare but still, he's being far more aggressive than before? Sure, the Wambas aren't going to just be fun-loving when the GFC is at stake and they're as competitive as any other team, but when you combine this with the way he was talking to Lun-Zia it's just jarring?

Also WAIT. Woowamboo is ginger? So the player that switched to the Lightnings for the Paradisian tournament was just someone else? Fair enough as you wouldn't switch your star player, but yeah my bad. Actually wait, he literally has grey hair in the Netherball scenes in season 2. WHAT IS THE TRUTH

OK WHAT. SO LUN-ZIA TELLING THE WAMBAS WHERE ROCKET IS MOST LIKELY TO SHOOT IS PERFECTLY A-OK BUT D'JOK TELLING TEAM PARADISIA A LITTLE TIP ON HOW TO BEAT AHITO IS A BETRAYAL?? PLUS, in the last episode Aarch faces the SK in the holo-trainer and says he can beat them because he knows how they play, and that everyone else does too. WHICH IS EXACTLY WHAT I WAS SAYING WHEN I WAS COMPLAINING ABOUT THE AHITO BETRAYAL BS. WHICH IS IT, WRITERS?!

Well at least Woowamboo seems more accepting of Lun-Zia now that he's seen her give it her all. Nice to see her settled in with the rest of the team!

I just had a thought, where is Maya in all this? We've seen Mama-Ice pop up and check on (scold XD) Micro-Ice but we didn't see Maya interact with D'jok at all? Wouldn't she have gone to see him instead of only hanging with the Snow Kids?? And now that D'jok's “retired” and hanging out by himself at Genesis, isn't she gonna look for him? She knows football was so important to him, so to give it up is a big deal! Ah well, we'll see.

Episode 17:

Yaay more Tia and Mei being besties

NOT CLOVER GIRL DOING THE MARYLIN MONROE

Side note I like Kim-8's vibes, she's just cool

That scene in Ballow's restaurant where he's talking about leaving dirty business behind, all while henchmen are constantly coming up to him with dodgy items like stolen paintings is so hilarious jfdskmn

aww I love Artegor trying to convince D'jok to come back, especially with him telling him how hard the SK took it when he left. It's also interesting to see Artegor refer to playing with the Snow Kids as a responsibility - they're a symbol of hope for the people of Akillian, who didn't even want to go to their first match in the stadium due to the trauma from the glaciation.

He also reminds D'jok he's a Snow Kid, which reminds me of their conversation in season.... 2? Where Artegor tells him he'll always be a kid from Akillian. It's also nice that once he's voiced his opinion, he changes the subject instead of pressuring D'jok to answer. He's really developed from the demanding Shadows coach he used to be.

THE PIRATES!! CRUSH THE RED TIGERS!!!!

Poor Artie, he can never watch a full match LOL

FOUR GOALS FOR STEVENS!!! WOOOOOOOOO PIRATES BEAT A FLUX TEAM! TAKE THAT!!!

NO. NO NO NO NO NO. THE CYCLOPS CANNOT FREEZE PEOPLE. THAT'S THE XENON'S FLUX. TRY AGAIN. ACTUALLY WATCH THE PREVIOUS SEASONS. TAKE IT FROM THE TOP.

Do you ever watch an old video and get jumpscared by a comment you don't remember making? Because I wrote this on another upload 9 years ago and I still don't know how they messed that up LOL.

I mean yeah sure it COULD be a new ability they've unlocked like how the Snow Kids are finding new ways to use the Breath. But they don't show the Cyclop's hypnosis thing at all, the animation is exactly the same as the Xenon's flux, and Callie even mentions their "hypnotic" flux and how the players can barely stay on their feet, which doesn't really match what's on screen sooo yeeeeeaahhh this is just an animation error. A pretty big one though.

So team Paradisia have no problem using their flux? Which was a synthetic one to begin with? And the technology for it is no longer available? Or do they just get it implanted once and that's it? So what was up with them going into those pods to “charge”? How does this work???

sfkdgfkjdf Mark went too hard on the sauerkraut, I love this gag about Mark and food

YESSSS SONNY! FATHER SON BONDING TIME FINALLY. His speech about the Pirates always being by his side even in tough times is sweet, and makes sense for D'jok. He's been through a lot with the Snow Kids and they're basically family now, and family wouldn't truly turn him away if he was sorry for what he did. At least, they wouldn't stay mad forever.

BENNETT YOU LEGEND. But also a bit reckless of Sonny to stand with D'jok right in the middle of an open area

Sonny: We're trapped!

Um no you're not, there's a staircase right there

Poor Cyclops, always getting clowned on :( ARTEGOR IS A SAVAGE IN THIS MATCH

BALLOW OUTING THE CON ARTISTS FDKFDKJDF I'm sorry I know it's a tragic moment for Sinedd but THAT'S SO FUNNY

The way they animate Sidney rolling around is hilarious. Also Thran only thought of finding Harvey just now? Wow, talk about second-class citizens.

It's so funny how this is the last episode in the official playlist, like they just gave up uploading HD episodes 2 years ago. Unless it's a regional thing? I'm editing this in Austria rn and the official English uploads aren't available unless I use VPN, are the French eps all uploaded in HD at least?

Episode 18:

Aaaaand I'm back to 480p uploads from 10 years ago. Thank you for your service youtube user lykaon868

I do get to see the intro and outro now though yaaaay

Wait what? We ended last episode on D'jok wanting to talk to the Snow Kids and with this one we just skip ahead to him being on the team again? I mean... they were building up to that moment for sooo long and we don't even get to see it? What???

It seems Tia and Rocket have accepted D'jok back but Micro-Ice and Ahito aren't so enthusiastic. It's strange to see Ahito so resentful but it's a refreshing change to see him react like that.

Micro-Ice's reaction on the other hand isn't taken very seriously and it's presented as them squabbling immaturely but like... he's right to feel hurt! We could've had some good Micro-Ice angst topped off with a heart-to-heart between two guys who canonically consider each other brothers, but here we are.

Sinedd's parents were... I M P O S T E R S ?

Sharky why are you revealing this as a scoop when it just puts you into hot water for not doing a background check before inviting them on the show

OOOO SHADOWS SPEAKING HISTORIC MOMENT

This is the serious - silly contrast dynamic I had in my head for the Shadows LOL. Although it's sad this kind of implies the Shadows only care for Sinedd as a player and not a person, telling him to get a grip after something like that? Although maybe their whole thing is that they TRY to act tough but really they're all feeling like that one guy who ran out crying lol. It IS a bit weird to insert comedy like that into this kind of scene though, kind of undercuts it for me.

Artegor just having tea and biscuits 🤣🤣🤣

CALLIE ACCEPT HIS OFFER FOR TEA DON'T BE RUDE. He looks sad after her reaction fskdjfskds honestly Artegor is probably the best character this season

STOP HAVING THEM SCORE IN THE FIRST MINUTE SFJKDFSKS

Tia squaring up to Sinedd I LOVE HER

Also wtf Sinedd, but he was about to go to Mei so I wonder what he was gonna do? Taunt her? Or maybe he regretted it? I guess we'll never know

This is a match with the Shadows, the Snow Kids' biggest rivals, and yet the first half is over in a few minutes of the episode! The matches just aren't as interesting in this season and feel too rushed

TIA CAPTAIN MOMENT YYYEAAAAAAHHH SHE DESERVES IT!

I am not immune to some D'jok vs Sinedd action

Not Maya focusing on Sinedd when she hasn't interacted with D'jok this whole time 😭

Mei is such a savage, it reminds me of Stevens handing Sinedd the ball that one time when there was seconds to spare LOL also pls forgive the shit quality gifs, demonstration purposes only folks

Sinedd: Do like everyone else Mei, don't worry about what I do and just forget me. Mei: But Sinedd- Sinedd: I lost, Mei. I lost everything. Everything.

Oof Sinedd really goes through the ringer every season, huh

Mark is smooth as butter on the pitch but so incredibly cringe at flirting

Warren: The team. The group. That's all that counts, D'jok D'jok: Being a team player Warren, that's what I want to improve!

Sure D'jok, until next season. But it's also kind of weird to portray his arc as if he just needed to learn how to be a team player again, when a big part of why he left was the emotional turmoil from the breakup and him lashing out because of it. That's never really resolved, although I guess the season is trying to say that D'jok became obsessed with winning again, which is what drove Mei away in the first place, but again I'm just speculating here! They had the means for a really good arc for D'jok but fumbled it and decided to retread old paths instead.

Is Harvey alive after all?

I do love that Clamp is still working alongside Sonny. And yaaaay Thran gets to do something!

Wait Paradisia is a dead planet, it didn't blow up or anything. Harvey is a robot so is it that surprising he's still there? Why not look for him earlier?

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