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lottesreads · 6 months

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Why Me? - Part 6

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, bruises, (someone gets punched), details of panic attacks, swearing, one "daddy" joke, pining, big Rooster warning here, mommy issues, mentions of death, insecurities

Word Count: 5860

Summary: Going over flight maneuvers for the day doesn't go as everyone planned. Somethings from your past get revealed, and you grow a little closer to Bob.

A/N: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS, this one is a little heavier and angstier, so I apologize for that. Things will get better though! Also, sorry for taking so long, I started a new job and had to take two tests so yay for me.

Masterlist

After what you are now calling the most awkward lunch ever, the day goes by… fine. The squad spends the remaining hours listening to feedback from your father, which surprisingly doesn’t ruffle anyone’s feathers too much. You pin it on the fact that it’s a Friday and everyone just wants to get out as soon as they can. You, of course, want to get out of there as well to spend time with Bob, and finally meet Sylvia. From all the pictures you’ve seen and how Bob describes her, she seems like the perfect dog.

But you’re also thinking about what Phoenix propositioned Bob with as well. It had sent you spiraling. All you can think about as Mav drones on about Payback and Fanboy’s practically perfect barrel roll, is how Bob is being set up with this woman. A woman, might you add, that he has never met or heard of before this day. You can’t help but stare straight in front of you, right at the back of Bob’s head. You’re able to see the tiniest bit of his profile, the wire frames peaking out atop his cheek. You’d like to believe you aren’t jealous. But history proves this wrong time and time again. This woman is just another thing you can add to the ever-growing list.

Bob turns his head ever so slightly, catching a glimpse of you staring out of his peripheral vision. You immediately look down at your papers, attempting to act as if you’re in deep thought about what Payback and Fanboy could have done better. Your eyes stay still on the paper as your brain moves a million miles a minute. God, Bob. Why did he have to be such an amazing person? You would have been able to move on if you had gotten to know him and realized he had a crappy personality, but unfortunately that is not the case. Now you’re stuck feeling jealous over some random woman who has no idea the implications of her attending Phoenix’s party next weekend. You chance a glance back up to Bob’s face and find that he’s already turned back to look at you.

“Mantis”, he whispers as he motions his head to the front of the room, right where your dad is staring you down.

“Sir”, you say, straightening up in your own seat. He raises his brow in a warning, as you shift your attention to the screen, seeing now that your own flights are up for critique.

“Thank you. Now that I have your attention, I have to say I am seeing noticeable room for improvement.” He turns back from the screen, pointing to where you took too sharp of a turn, or where you needed to slow down. You write down everything he says, even as the tips of your ears begin to burn in embarrassment. He is your captain, you know this. Everyone else knows this, but they also know what it feels like to get scolded by a dad. And you can’t help but see the similarities at this moment. He finally finishes after what feels like an eternity as he looks back at you, “Any questions?”

“No sir”, you respond bluntly. He was being nitpicky, for once in his life, and you weren’t sure what caused it at this moment. But you’re still a little confused at what you thought was a perfect run.

“Alright Rooster, you’re up.” You glance over to Rooster’s hard stare as he brings his gaze to the front of the room. You cannot wait to see your dad rip him a new one. It’s what he deserves, and honestly you could fly circles around this guy. “I have to say, I am thoroughly impressed with your work today.” Wait, what? Rooster’s face softens into a slight grin as your brow furrows in his direction. Folding your arms across your chest you sink back into your chair, watching as your dad gives Rooster a glowing review. An undeserved one in your opinion. And then Mav decides to tell you one of the worst ideas he’s ever had.

“Single-seaters, I’m gonna put you in groups and you’re going to go over the notes I gave you to hopefully help you execute these maneuvers better. Two-seaters, you’re going to do the same, but with your pilots and your WSO’s.” At this point, you’re just hoping you’re with Coyote or Fritz, hell, even Hangman. Mav looks down at his podium, going over the list before announcing them, “Fritz and Coyote, you’re a pair. And then we’ll have Rooster, Hangman, and Mantis as a group.”

“Jesus Christ”, you mumble under your breath. Was he trying to kill you? As the rest of the pairs move around to find places to talk, you very lazily turn your head in Rooster’s direction as he does the same to you. Hangman is standing in the aisle, looking back and forth at the both of you, very confused as to the standoff happening before him. You really don’t want to get up and walk over to Rooster. It may seem stupid, and childish, but you are not going to let him think you’re just going to waltz back over to him. Hangman breathes out a laugh, shaking his head at the two of you, ultimately taking the seat next to you. It makes you smile inside watching Rooster roll his eyes as he pulls up a spare chair.

“If any of you need me, I will be in a meeting with Cyclone and Warlock, so please direct any concerns to Hondo”, Mav announces as he points to Hondo giving a small wave in the back of the room.

“Well”, Hangman starts, “Since daddy-dearest gave Rooster a perfect score, I guess that just leaves you and me, Mantis.”

“No surprise there”, you mutter as you start looking through your notes. Rooster scoffs from the other side of Hangman, prompting you to look up at him. “What?”

“Nothing, just didn’t realize you’d be so bitter about someone on your team doing well. But then again I shouldn’t be surprised.” Adding a smile onto the end of his sentence he goes back to sorting through his notes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just think that when you have to rely on each other, you should be happy when someone does well. Especially when it’s our lives at stake here.”

“Well, I think giving someone confidence in their lack-luster abilities is dangerous, to everyone.” You say, folding your arms.

“And I completely agree”, Rooster nods, “that’s why Mav was honest with you. If he inflated that false confidence anymore than it already is, your head might have exploded.” Hangman raises his brows at the exchange before him. Why your dad thought it was a good idea to pair the three of you together, he’ll never know.

“Do you guys wanna get back to-”

“Oh, I have false confidence?”

“Or not”, Hangman finishes his sentence after being interrupted. Interrupted, not heard. It doesn’t really matter at this point while he tries to fade into his seat, waiting for this argument to be over and done with.

“He’s literally just blowing smoke up your ass, so you’ll ‘believe in yourself’”, you add in air-quotes, “or whatever bullshit he made up. Or maybe he just wants to get on your good side to make up for lost time.” You’re vaguely aware of your own voice raising as everyone else’s conversations start dwindling and they turn to your group.

“Are you still on that? I thought we were past it already.” He responds, visibly agitated by your persistence.

“No, Rooster, you two got past that. I haven’t heard a goddamn word from you on the matter, or an apology. So no, I’m not past that.”

“Oh do you really wanna start this here?” Rooster asks, daring you.

“Oh I really do.” You respond just as sure. “So whenever you’re ready to apologize you know where to find me.”

“Everything alright over here?” Hondo has since made his way over to your group as he stands to your right. You obviously hadn’t noticed being too caught up in whatever this is.

“You think you deserve an apology?” Rooster’s voice raises, caught off guard.

“Yes! Why wouldn’t I? You just left, and even though I was twelve I still tried to get in contact with you for six years after the fact.”

“And you think I should be sorry for that? For the fact that I didn’t answer the phone when you tried to rub it in my face that he just let you go to the Academy?”

“You think after you he just let me go?!”

“Of course I do! That’s the only reason you’re sitting in this room with the rest of us!” Rooster stands right as you do, now physically looking down on you between the barrier that Hangman creates. He’s pushing on Rooster’s chest, while a hand comes to rest on your shoulder.

“Is that what you’re angry about? You’re jealous of me?” You ask incredulously, still not lowering your volume.

“Why the FUCK would I be jealous of you?”

“Rooster” Phoenix warns him. He continues anyway.

“Jealous of the fact that your Navy connections bought you into the TopGun program in the first place, into the Academy? Huh?!” You almost flinch as he gets closer to your face, but you hold steady, chest heaving in anger still, but not backing down. “Or is it the fact that you think I’m jealous of your family, cause that sure as hell isn’t-”

“That is ENOUGH.” Hondo announces. “You are supposed to be professionals, how many of these meetings are going to end in fights?!” Your stony gaze falls from Rooster to the hand on your shoulder. You recognize the long fingers as Bob’s, he squeezes your shoulder lightly as if asking if you’re ok. You’re not, but the fact that he’s here and has your back has you taking a deep breath in, deeper than any you’ve been able to take since Rooster opened his big mouth.

“Ya know”, Hangman starts, “back in the olden Navy days they would have handed you boxing gloves and let you fight it out from there.” His attempt to relieve the tension falls flat as the rest of the team gauges if the two of you are actually done fighting.

“Yeah well”, Rooster responds, “From what I remember Mantis does a better job taking a punch than throwing one. Just ask her mom.” And just like that your breaths grow shallow again as your stomach drops. An audible breath leaves your mouth as everyone’s eyes fall from Rooster to you, and as much as you try to remain stoic, your bottom lip begins to wobble as your mouth falls open slightly. There’s an immediate sense of remorse in Rooster’s eyes as he realizes what he just said. But much like everything else he’s done, it’s too late. The damage has already been done.

“ROOSTER”, Phoenix scolds him. You don’t even stay to hear the rest of it, turning on your heel you leave the room, not being able to stand the looks of pity from your teammates. Once in the hallway you make your way to the women’s locker room. Each footstep seems louder than the next. The closer you get, the heavier the tears start to form on your lash line, only falling once you slam the door open and swing the curtain closed in a shower stall. Sliding down the wall of the cubicle, you hug your knees to your chest, attempting to silence the cries that are only coming naturally with the tears. It’s getting harder to breathe, even as you attempt to take large breaths.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Phoenix yells as she pushes Rooster. No one dares to stop her as she continues to berate him. Bob is absolutely stunned at the information Rooster just dropped, but is shaken out of his thoughts as he looks at the door you just fled through. By the way you rushed out of here, he thinks you’d like to be alone, but on the off chance you need someone, he slips out of the room to go find you. He passes the men’s locker room and heads to the women’s hoping that’s where you escaped. Knocking on the door, he slowly opens it.

“Hello? Is anybody in here?” He doesn’t receive an answer, but he can hear someone crying who he can only assume is you. “Mantis, are you ok?” Still no answer. “Mantis, I’m coming in” With his eyes glued to the floor he follows the sounds of your sniffling and sobs until he reaches you. “Hey, I’m opening the curtain, ok?” He slowly slides back the curtain to find you in the corner of the stall, face tucked between your knees as you attempt to take in ragged breaths. He’s immediately on his knees in front of you and his heart breaks at the sight. He thinks you know he’s there, but he can’t be sure. It’s obvious you’re in the middle of a panic attack and he doesn’t want to scare you, so he gently rests a hand on your knee.

“Mantis, can you hear me?” You raise your head at his voice, revealing a very red and splotchy face as tears continue to fall out of your eyes. Your breathing is still very ragged as you grip his hand on your knee as if he would float away if you let go. He would never dream of doing such a thing, but he grips your hand right back.

“It’s ok, I just need you to breathe for me, alright?” You nod your head at his words as he demonstrates taking deep breaths in, holding, then letting them out. You’re attempting to follow them as your head continues to swim, taking note of this he moves your hand from your knee to over his heart, pressing it against his chest. “I’m right here”, he tells you as you continue to follow his breathing. The soothing nature of his heartbeat helps to bring you back down to earth. And little by little you start to feel the rest of your body come to its senses. It starts with your fingertips, feeling the pressure of Bob’s rough hand pressing it against his steadily beating chest, as the feeling crawls up your arms and legs. The tears begin to subside and all that’s left is the dried tracks they left as they swam down your cheeks.

Bob remains in front of you the entire time, even as you realize just how close the two of you are, he doesn’t falter. You’re now acutely aware that your hand is still sandwiched between his hand and chest, your fingers instinctively wiggle against his as you finger the material of his flight suit.

“Are you gonna be alright if I leave you here for a sec?” You nod, not daring to make eye contact. “Ok, I’ll be right back.” He places your hand back against your knee as you stare at the spot he once occupied, your head beginning to ache. There are still so many emotions going on, but your body is starting to feel the after effects.

Bob’s quite literally back in under a minute as he assumes his previous position, only now holding a bottle of water. He opens it for you as you graciously accept it, taking a couple small sips to start out with. You manage a small “Thank you” as you hand the bottle back to Bob. Embarrassment begins to overtake your system as you curl back in on yourself.

“Are you feeling any better?” You nod your head slightly, still avoiding his gaze.

“Yeah, thank you.”

“Any time”, and though other people would pass it off as a way of Bob trying to say you’re welcome, you know he genuinely would help you any time you needed him. You’re still not sure what to say, so you don’t say anything. Bob moves to sit next to you against the wall, not breaking the silence.

“You don’t have to stay here with me”, you manage to croak out.

“I know.” He says so sure. “I just need to make sure you’re gonna be ok.” You let a deep sigh out through your mouth as you lean your head back against the tile wall. At this moment you’re just feeling drained. That’s what panic attacks usually do. You were just so mad at him, and then he shared one of your deepest, darkest secrets in front of all of your coworkers. You had maybe thought you’d be able to patch up your relationship with him if he owned up to his mistakes, but now? You don’t think you’ll ever be able to get past this. If your dad wants to spend so much time with Rooster, let him. You don’t want to see his face ever again, which you know is a big ask, knowing that you have to work together. Maybe you should just put in a transfer, it’s not like you see your dad a lot outside of work anyway. You’d miss most of these people more than they’d miss you.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Bob gingerly grabbing your wrist and facing your palm upwards, and reaching into his pocket he retrieves something, laying it down in your hand. He lets it go and you miss his touch as he rests his hands on his knees. Looking down at your palm, you realize that he’s left a single penny behind.

“What’s this?”

“A penny”

“I can see that”, you smile slightly, “what’s it doing in my hand?”

“This may shock you, but when I was younger, I wasn’t much of a talker. Sometimes it was like pullin’ teeth to get me to talk-”

“I know the feeling”

“Yes, well, my Grandpa noticed how it didn’t come easy to me. So sometimes when he noticed I had a lot going on he would hand me a penny, and without having to ask, I would just start talkin’”

“A literal penny for your thoughts” you realize outloud. You grasp the penny, staring as you hold it between your fingers.

“It doesn’t mean you have to say anything”, Bob rushes out, “Just- if you want, you’re free to share your thoughts with me. No judgment” This is quite possibly one of the sweetest things anyone has ever shared with you, and staring at the penny you know you’re safe with Bob. Safe to share your feelings, safe from… anything really.

“I really want to tell Rooster to go fuck himself.” Bob gives you a small chuckle.

“Well, I think Phoenix may be doing that as we speak.” Good, you think to yourself. You shift the coin between your fingers and thumb before deciding to speak again.

“I was so sad, for so many years. And now I’m just starting to feel angry. Every time I see his face, I just can’t stop myself from laying into him.” It’s quiet for a moment as Bob waits to let you continue. “I don’t think I’m asking for too much, or that I went too far. And he just- God, he just laid it all out there for everyone.” Bob notices your fist beginning to clench and he slowly reaches over to grasp your hand in his.

“I’m sorry. And if it means anything, I don’t think you’re asking for too much.” You hadn’t even realized you started crying again until Bob’s thumb was swiping a stray tear away. Your breath catches in your throat and his hand moves away quickly, as if touching your face had hurt him. He clears his throat. “Were you going to wait for your dad, or did you want me to take you home?”

“Home? I thought I was supposed to meet Sylvia today?”

“Oh, yeah”, Bob chokes back, surprise coating his features, “We can go to… my place then?”

“If that’s alright with you?”

“Of course it is”, Bob says almost too quickly. “I mean”, he coughs, “Sylvia, she would love to meet ya”. And then he gives you a smile. You know the one, it’s closed mouth but it causes his cheeks to scrunch up beneath his eyes, taking over half his face. It’s almost enough to make you forget about this whole day.

He stands, offering you his hands to help you off the ground. He doesn’t leave you immediately at first, he just stands in front of you as if assessing the situation. Weighing his options. Glancing down at his watch, he looks at the door, “I think everyone should have gone home for the day. But if you want, you can wait in here while I grab my stuff?” You nod, taken aback at his thoughtfulness once again.

He leaves for a short bit while you grab your own bag from your locker. He knocks on the door once again, signaling his return as you make your way through the halls. The setting sun illuminates the parking lot and glares at you through the glass doors. Bob opens the door allowing you to go first as you spot his truck and make your way to it. The ache in your head is starting to come back and you can’t wait to take your hair out of the tight bun it’s in now.

“Mantis!”, you turn around as someone calls your name and immediate regret fills your system. You roll your eyes at the sight of Rooster walking toward you as you turn to keep walking, Bob right behind you.

“Mantis!”, he yells again as if you didn’t hear him the first time. “Come on Bug!” You stop in your tracks, rage once again emanating from your pores. Turning on your heel, you drop your bag onto the asphalt. This catches Rooster by surprise as he stops right before you.

“Do NOT call me that”, you grit through a clenched jaw as you point your finger at him. You can’t help the way your arm shakes in anger.

“Sorry”, he lets out dejectedly, placing his hands on his hips. Even if your brow wasn’t furrowed from squinting in the sun you have a feeling you’d still be staring at him with the same expression.

“Oh, so you do know that word”, you scoff. Rooster bites his tongue as he looks down at his feet. “And I’m not in the mood to talk, so save it for someone else who doesn’t want to hear it.” In the distance you’re aware of Bob throwing his bag in the back of his truck as he grabs yours and does the same.

“I just want to-”

“I told you, I’m not in the mood”, you move to turn to Bob’s truck as Rooster reaches out and grabs your wrist.

“Mantis, c’mon-” The grip on your wrist sends your senses into overdrive as anger takes over. As he tugs on your wrist, you turn and collide your free fist into his face. It’s funny really, you weren’t aiming for anything in particular but you land it right on his cheekbone. It was enough force and surprise to knock him backwards

“Jesus Christ!” he shouts, grasping his face in his hand. Tears begin to well up in your eyes for the second time today as you shake out your hand. “What the hell is your problem?” He yells at you.

“Carole would be so disappointed in you”, you rasp out, cradling your hand. You stare Rooster down as he looks up at you in shock, until he can’t stand to anymore and tears his eyes away. Bob’s standing right behind you as you turn and bump into his chest.

“Are you ok?” he asks, lightly resting his hands on your shoulders.

“No”, you whisper, “Let’s just get out of here.” You don’t dare to spare a look back at Rooster, but Bob does as he leads you to his truck. The man is standing at his full height now with his shoulders slumped. The skin just under his eye is already starting to swell as he watches you walk away this time.

The ride back to Bob’s is quiet as you stare out the window. The radio’s humming quietly in the background and he doesn’t dare disrupt the silence, so he takes a glance at your hand. The skin around your knuckles is slightly irritated from the force you punched Rooster with, but other than that it doesn’t look too bad. He knew you were tough, but he never thought he’d see you punch someone in the face. If it had to be someone, he was glad it was Rooster though. That guy had it coming, especially after what he said today. You’re still staring out the window with a look of indifference, and you still had the penny he gave to you earlier, but you hadn’t said anything about what Rooster had revealed. So, he wasn’t going to push it until you were ready or wanted to talk about it.

You’re pulled out of your trance once the truck stops in Bob’s driveway. He grabs both of your bags before you’re able to grab yours, but he stops as he’s about to open the door.

“Just a warning, it’s probably a mess in here, so I apologize.”

“I have a feeling that your definition of a mess is my definition of clean.” He gives you a slight smile as he opens the door.

“Only one way to find out.” Opening the door you find, just as you suspected, an immaculate house. There may be a couple dog toys lying around, but that’s about it. You’re startled a little bit as Bob whistles, “Syl! Come ‘ere girl!” You smile at the accent coming through, and then the thump of something on the second floor running down the stairs. Sylvia comes barreling down the hallway as fast as her claws against the hardwood allow her. Bob is immediately on his knees in front of her, scratching behind her ears and speaking in what you can only describe as baby-talk, “Oh Syl, I’m so sorry. Daddy was gone for such a long time today wasn’t he?” You’re attempting to hold back a laugh, eyebrows shooting up at his use of the word “daddy”.

Sylvia’s tail stops wagging as she notices you standing behind her dad. Bob looks back at you and then at the dog, “Now Sylvia, this is Mantis. Mantis is a very good friend of mine, and I know she has a funny name, but you’re just gonna have to get over that, ok?” You can’t help but chuckle at how talkative he is with her, and even as you stare at her enormous brown eyes you immediately crave her approval. You start to kneel down next to Bob, but before you’re able to get on your knees Sylvia is cowering away and running back upstairs. You huff out in frustration as you stare at her retreating form.

“Hey, it’s alright”, Bob explains, “Like I said, she’s kinda skittish, and it takes a little bit for her to warm up to new people.” You nod in understanding as Bob leads you to his living room. It’s fairly simple, and again very clean. Bob tells you to take a seat as he grabs you a glass of water from the kitchen directly behind the living area.

“So daddy, huh?” The glass just about slips out of Bob’s hand upon hearing your use of the word. He swallows, taking a moment to collect himself.

“Uhm”, he coughs, “Yeah, I don’t know. It just sort of happened.”

“It’s cute”, you smile to yourself. Bob returns with a glass of water and an ice-pack wrapped in a kitchen towel. He awkwardly offers it to you as you accept it.

“For your hand”

“Oh yeah, thanks.” You lift it in appreciation before placing it on your knuckles. Wincing at first at the sensitivity. Bob sits a little farther down on the couch and watches you fiddle with something in your pocket. You tentatively reach for the penny, turning it over before handing it over to Bob. He laughs through his nose, nodding as a smile plays on his face.

“Come on, it’s your turn now.” Bob begins to chew on his bottom lip, avoiding your eyes. “If you want to ask me about it, it’s ok”, you let out more solemnly. He glances over at you, huffing out a sigh.

“How’s your hand?” He decides on, making you laugh.

“Not what I meant, but it’s ok. A little stiff.” You get the sense that he wants to know, but is getting shy with you again. And even though he doesn’t ask, you get an overwhelming urge to tell him. Taking in a shaky breath, you start in the only place you know where to, “Do you know how I got my call-sign?” He shakes his head.

“Although, I do recall you telling Hangman you’d bite his fucking head off” The two of you laugh. Sylvia, just as sneaky as her dad, pops her head up out of nowhere, resting it on Bob’s thigh. His hand instinctively goes to pet her head as you try not to acknowledge her existence, hoping she’ll make her way over to you.

“That’s what I like to tell people. But, no. When I was a kid, I was deathly afraid of insects, still am if I’m being honest. But, there was one incident”, you smile at the memory, “Where I was at the park, and I turned to look behind me and there was a praying mantis, just sitting on my shoulder. I, of course, freaked out and was trying to get it off me, but it wasn’t until Carole- Bradley’s mom, calmed me down where she was able to carefully pick it up and take it off me.” You’re laughing a little at this point, and Bob can’t help but smile at your own.

“She got me to stop crying and explained that it was just a little bug”, you swallow, staring down at your iced hand, “like me.” Bob’s face softens as he remembers Rooster’s words. “That became her nickname for me, and when she died and Bradley left, nobody called me it again until-” You cut yourself off, choked up just talking about Carole, and remembering how Bradley used to be. Before he was Rooster.

“Anyway, I hadn’t had a run-in with a praying mantis until flight school. I was out on a hike with the rest of my class, and what do I see on my shoulder when I turn around? A damn praying mantis. I screamed again, just like the first time, and everyone thought it was hilarious. So, the name Mantis stuck. It just felt like…” you struggle to find the word.

“Fate”, Bob finishes the sentence for you. You look up and find his eyes trained on you. Giving him a slight smile, you nod your head.

“Yeah, exactly.” Your eyes remain on his, and your heart beats a little faster. “So I’m not exactly bug, but that’s ok, because I don’t think anyone but Carole can call me that. Even if Bradley used to-” You look away, only to find Sylvia standing between you and Bob. Having must inched her way closer while you spoke, “I don’t want him to anymore.”

“I think that makes a lot of sense, and I also think Mantis suits you.” You smile and dare to reach your hand out to Sylvia, who simply sniffs the approaching limb. She nudges her nose closer, sniffing your palm as you very gently scratch her ear, much like Bob did earlier. She leans into it, daring to walk closer to you. Taking in a deep breath, you let it out before you lose the courage.

“It wasn’t a regular thing”, Bob’s loving gaze at Sylvia falls as he looks up at you, “Just when she got really angry, or I reminded her too much of my dad I guess.” Your hand stops petting Sylvia as you stare at the glass of water on the coffee table, the condensation dripping down onto the coaster Bob thoughtfully placed underneath it. “Carole and my dad found bruises a couple different times, but I was too embarrassed to tell them how they got there. But she knew. I guess Bradley must have known, too, or he wouldn’t have brought it up today. I think they tried to do something about it, but they wouldn’t grant full custody to my dad because of his work, and… I don’t really know what happened after that.” Sylvia’s head now rests on your thigh, much like it did earlier with Bob. You grant her a small smile, moving your hand once again to give her some attention.

You don’t have to look up to know that Bob’s staring at you. Your nose starts to tingle, alerting you to the fact that tears were starting to form in your eyes. “It got better when she remarried, her focus wasn’t on me as much anymore. She was busy with her husband and his kids.” You scrunch your nose, attempting to rid yourself of the feeling, but it’s no use. The tears start to fall and you hastily wipe them away with your free hand. “Jesus, sorry”, you say as you give him a watery laugh.

“Don’t be sorry”, your tears continue to fall, “None of this is your fault.” Bob’s words hit you deep as you stare at the ceiling, willing these tears to stop, but they just won’t. “Can- Can I hug you?” You look over at Bob and give him a fast nod of your head.

“Yes please”, you whisper. He moves along the couch to get closer to you, and then wraps you up in both his arms as you do the same. Even through both of your flight suits, Bob is warm as you melt into him. Your eyes close as you breathe him in. He smells like sweat and jet fuel from being in a plane all day, and you’re sure you smell the same. It’s comforting nonetheless.

Bob just wants to pick you up and take you far away from here. Away from everyone that dares to make you hurt. He feels you sag against him and he pulls you just the tiniest bit closer as he breathes in the scent of your shampoo. He’s realizing now it’s been a while since he’s hugged someone like this, and maybe it’s the case for you, too. His hand goes to soothe along your back and your eyes flutter shut at the motion. He remembers you saying your mom wasn’t too happy when she found out about the Naval Academy, and he doesn’t want to think about what happened after the fact.

“I’m sorry you have to go through all that”, he whispers just above your ear.

“It’s alright, things are starting to look up”, you sniffle, pulling him just a little bit tighter.

Taglist:

@lemmons1998

@itsmytimetoodream

@theamuz

#bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #mavdad #robert bob floyd x female reader #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Unexpected 9

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Scuse me, buttercup,” Dotty climbs up on one of the high stools along the craps table, “oh, look at this tall drink of water.”

You come up beside her, crossing your arms over the leather trim as she leers at the man next to her. You haven’t missed the comments or how she runs stream of mind, much like her son. It explains a little but not enough. You still don’t understand Lloyd, or was it Marion?

“You here alone, lovely?” She continues on, “if so, I think it’s my lucky day. I should run the table, huh?”

“He’s not,” a woman with cherry curls leans around the man caught in the crossfire, “he’s very much not alone.”

“No harm in askin’,” Dotty chirps as she places her chips on the table, “lotta cuties wanderin’ ‘round, don’t you worry, honey. You have fun with yours.”

The woman grabs the man and tugs on his arm. He sighs and collects his single stack before letting her drag him away. You watch Dotty as she chuckles.

“Oh, them young ones get so testy,” she chimes, “I like to rile ‘em up a little.”

“Uh huh,” you hum and toss in a chip as the dealer prompts for a bet.

“Not you though, I can sense it. ‘Sides, Pookie don’t like the insecure ones, ya know? He needs a girl gonna pull him around by his mustache.”

“He’s… unique,” you agree.

“Oh, he’s always been a special one. Me and Harley knew it from the start. ‘Fraid we didn’t do too good about the only child complex. He does love attention.”

“That’s one way to put it,” you scoff as your money is swiped away with a loss. Dotty on the other hand and handed a generous pot.

“Ah, you know the men folk, they gotta put on the brave face but they’re all melt like sugar in water once they got a woman’s hand around there… well,” she cackles shrilly and pushes her winning backs into the centre to wager. She either doesn’t care or doesn’t realise the risk. “Let me tell you, Harley lumbers ‘round like that Frankenstein fella, barely a word to be heard, but I get him on his back and he’s whimpering like a giddy puppy.”

“Dot,” you gasp.

She laughs and waves away your surprise, “like father, like son, I’m sure. You don’t gotta play coy with me. And knowin’ Lloyd, you don’t need any tips, neither. Oh, but we did try something new. Hon, you ever play around with hot wax–”

“Right, uh, no, not, um, yet?” You clear your throat awkwardly, the conversation veering well out of your control. She really is a lot like Lloyd.

“Too bad, but I think you’ll like your wedding present. We had it sent to your room for tonight,” she explains as another gambler takes the seat at her other side. She turns to greet the stranger with her fuschia painted smile, “oh, hello! You ready to lose?”

The man grunts and offers little rebuttal as he puts in for the pot. You pass as Dotty puts her elbow up on the table, “oh, wow, is that a tattoo? Oh, lord, can I see?”

You watch her long acrylics graze the man’s arm brazenly. She is the biggest flirt in the world. You’re happy enough to fade into her shadow.

“Uhhhh,” the man drones in confusion.

“I been thinking of getting one, ‘bout time I’d say,” she pushes her chest out and puts her hands to her tits, “was thinkin’ a little bumble bee on the one and a honey pot on the other.”

The stranger chuckles, “cute, er, it’s just a lion,” he unbutton his shirt to reveal the rest of the snarling beast, only its mane visible previously along the edge of his collar. Dotty touches his firm peck and traces the line with her fingertip.

“Oh, you're so strong,” she preens, “did it hurt?”

“Little,” the man doesn’t pull away, apparently too dumbfounded to stop the groping.

“Dot,” you hiss and nudge her, “maybe we should move on–”

“And how’s a man like you all alone?” She ignores you.

“Well, I… I’m waiting for my buddies,” he shrugs as she caresses his chest and reluctantly pulls away.

“Early bird,” she praises, “what are you and your buddies doin’ in a place like this?”

“Bachelor party,” he answers, “gonna play some tables, see where the night leads.”

“Sounds delightful,” she claps and kicks her feet cheerily, “oh my, where are my manners, I’m Dotty, in my day they called me Naughty Dotty, and this is my daughter.” You give a small wave as she introduces you with a wave of her hand, “she just got married herself but you see, she didn’t get no bachelorette, so we’re here doin’ our best.”

“Oh, um,” the man leans over, “congrats, I, um, I’m Colin.”

You withhold a cringe. Of course that’s his name. Of course. You smile as Dotty squeezes his arm, “do you mind if maybe we tag along til your friends come around…” she gives a dramatic look around, “got all these creeps hangin’ around and I’m a small town girl, I wouldn’t mind a strong man to scare ‘em off.”

“Ah, sounds alright,” he says with a lilt of confusion.

“I’ll give you half my winnings even,” she offers, “big boy like you, you could take the whole pot.”

You try to hide your amusement as the man blushes. You lean over and lower your voice, “Dotty, maybe you should tone it down?”

“Nonsense, I love my husband,” she whispers back, “ain’t nothing wrong with a little flirting,” she shifts and covers her mouth, “he likes to fuck me when I tell him all about the young ones.”

Your eyes round and try not choke on your tongue. Well, this is gonna be an interesting night. Far from what you expected.

💎

“Dot, Dot, Dot!” The chant fills your ears as the half-dozen men slam their fists on the table.

Your mother-in-law tips the tall glass back as she drains it with ease, a trickle slipping down to her chin as she gulps down the lager. Your purgatory feels rather dull as you sip at a glass of tame lemonade and watch with startled fascination. She finishes and raises it in victory before plunking it down.

“You’re turn, baby boy,” she points at the thick blond with his burly shoulders, “take that shirt off.”

You shake your head. Your pleas for her to settle have gone unheard and at this point, you can only enjoy the show. It’s actually pretty amused by the whole show. You wonder if Lloyd knows about his mother’s antics. Either way, you can’t say it’s a boring night.

The man, Justin, shifts as another moves along the bench and he lays across the leather. He lifts his shirt and Colin puts a shot in his belly button before stepping back. Dotty bends to squeeze a trickle of lime along his stomach and licks the trail down to the glass before taking it in her mouth and standing to throw it back.

The men cheer again as she wobbles slightly in her heels. Your own feet are screaming from the strappy monstrosities you’d walked the expanse of the casino in. Dotty climbs up to straddle Justin and throws her arm up like a cowboy as she pretends to ride him like a horse.

“Okay, wow,” you shove your lemonade aside, “Dotty, I think it’s a bit late,” you stand as you raise your voice.

“Nooooo,” the symphony of male voices rumbles around you.

“Yes,” you insist as you grab her elbow and turn to speak to her directly, “what about Lloyd? Harlan?”

“They can wait, the night is young–”

“It’s after midnight,” you say.

“Oh, ain’t nothin’ wrong with some fun,” she warbles as she shakes you off, “eh.”

She reaches drunkenly to your strap and pulls it down your shoulder. You curse as your tit pops out and you quickly cover it back up as the men cheer again.

“Don’t she got a set, boys,” she trills and pushes herself off Justin. She faces you and gropes your chest, “come on and get a feel–”

“Woah, woah, stop,” you catch her wrists and shove her away.

“Yeah, stop,” a deep timbre undercuts the din, “ma.”

Dotty’s head wobbles as you both turn to face Lloyd. He doesn’t look impressed as his mother catches your arm and leans on you heavily. She giggles as you give him a look between desperation and shame.

“Pa’s waiting,” Lloyd marches forward and clutches her other elbow.

“Eh, who are you?” Colin comes up behind Dotty.

“This is my son,” Dotty strokes Lloyd’s sleeve lovingly, “isn’t he so cute?”

“Alright, let’s go,” Lloyd snarls as he pulls her forward, her heels clacking under her as you take her other arm, “sweet cheeks,” he speaks over her head, “hope you didn’t get your fill.”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #unexpected #series #dark drabble #dark!drabble #the gray man

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ladylooch · 9 months

Text

That Night in Ibiza with Timo Meier

A/N: Still loving these two... and felt like we needed to see a lil more of their "non- relationship" before they got together.

Word Count: 2.0k

Warnings: hints of smut (tell me you're proud of me), swearing, angst

A tick is beginning to pulse in the corner of my right eye as I scan the contents of the menu in my hands. The rapid texting of Julian on his screen all damn day when we are supposed to be on vacation in Ibiza is rage inducing. He’s a high-profile lawyer in Zurich and acts like if he put his phone down, the whole world would crumble without him. As a successful business woman, I get the need to be available, but he brings it to an extreme. He is footing the bill for this trip, so I don’t feel I can complain that much.

I reach my foot out, stroking up his calf with my foot to draw his attention away from his iPhone.

“One more minute, babe. Then… I… am… all.. yours…” He trails off distractedly.

I suck my cheeks in, bringing my eyes back down to the menu. The dishes are various forms of world cuisine focusing on fish. Halibut sounds good, but so does the Blue Fin tuna smothered in an asian style sauce. I tap my fingers against my cheek, then smile at the waiter approaching with our bottle of wine.

“Oh, we didn’t order this.” Julian cuts him off before he can even speak. “We ordered the bordeaux.”

“Ah, yes sir. But another patron purchased this for you.” I lean forward, seeing my favorite, white wine from France.

“I don’t think we want this. It’s not that good.” I frown at Julian, feeling my eye tick increase even higher.

“This is great, thank you.” I insist, gesturing for him to pour us each a glass. “Can you tell us who purchased it?”

“Yes, the table by the pond.”

I turn, looking over at the built-in pond with a lazy fountain in the middle. My heart bottoms out in my chest when my eyes lock with Timo's. I glance away quickly, watching instead as Julian tilts a hand in acknowledgment. He has no idea who Timo is both in and out of my life. I clutch at my throat, biting my lip while the waiter pours us both a glass.

“We still want the bordeaux.” Julian assures the waiter as he moves to leave. “That’s weird. Why would he buy us this?” He looks at the bottle again, a disapproving scrunch to his nose.

I take a small sip of my wine, then drag my gaze back to Timo. He is no longer looking at me. Instead, he is leaned back in his chair, talking with the brunette across from him. She’s skinny. Beautiful. And looks expensive even from where I am sitting. I haven’t seen him since earlier this summer. I heard from Nico that he has been bouncing around the Med with his friends and family for the last month. He’s sent a few snaps along the way, but nothing consistent. Something odd and unfamiliar burns beneath the surface of my skin as the woman reaches across the table to fold their hands together. The discomfort has me raising the glass of wine back to my lips.

“Babe, we have the bordeaux coming.” Julian reminds me after my next gulp.

“I know.” I murmur, then set the glass back down on the table.

“Wait! Isn’t that a hockey player?” He asks… “It’s like… Teddy… or… Gino…?”

“Timo.” I say flatly.

“Yeah! One of the partners was wanting to see if we could get him signed for his promotional contract negotiations. I’m going to go say hi.”

“Ah! No!” I stutter. But Julian, being himself, is already gone.

All I can do is watch in awe as he strolls right up to their table. Timo looks beyond Julian at me, amusement flaring his nostrils as he bites his lips against a laugh. Timo nods enthusiastically, listening as Julian, likely, drones on and on about how successful he is and all the various legality aspects. Timo is a gracious listener, but seemingly tolerates his presence because it gives him the angle to look at me.

“We do paternity testing too!” Julian’s loud voice flows over to me.

I cringe as he laughs then skims his gaze along the brunette across the table from Timo. His eyes stay on her breasts and I sigh. I don’t think this vacation is worth what I’m putting up with. Julian was great in the beginning. Driven. Passionate. Sexy. But now, his personality is getting in the way of anything good in the bedroom. I find myself missing the other man in this room when we are together. I shake my head at the thought. No. I can’t go there… not with Timo.

“Em! Come here!” Julian suddenly waves his hand in my direction.

Fuck.

If I ignore him, he will drag me over there. So I bite my tongue against the awkwardness and stand.

“You didn’t tell me you knew Timo Meier?” He questions as I approach. He wraps an arm around my waist. It instantly feels like a vice with Timo sitting right there.

“Ah… thought it was implied because of my brother.” I smile to hide my irritation. “Hi.”

“Hi, Em.” Timo muses at me, smile and eyes soft as he scans my body. I try to move my eyes away but I can’t. They’re sucked in by his admiration of me. Julian hasn’t given me this much attention the whole trip. Timo’s hand is right there on the table, resting along the bottom of his empty wine glass. My fingers twitch, wanting to fold into where I know they’ll fit perfectly. Instead, I look away, draping an arm across Julian’s shoulders.

“Timo and Irina are having one last vacation before they return to California.” My gaze snaps, startled, back to Timo. What?

“Ah, no, only I am going back to Cali.” Timo corrects.

“So sorry.” Julian grins in an apology. “Well, I won’t take up any more of your time tonight. But I hope to hear from you next week.”

“Yeah, I’ll give this to my team, and if they think it’s good, they’ll be in touch.” Timo holds up Julian’s business card, then tucks it into his wallet. I stare at his face, silently telling him to lose the card. “Great seeing you, Em. As always.” I glance over at Irina who looks like she hasn’t followed a word of our conversation. Her hand reaches out to Timo’s arm, trailing along his tanned skin. I resist the urge to remove her hand from him. He is not mine… and yet it feels like a betrayal.

“I’ll tell Nico you said hi.” I finally respond. Timo’s smirk falters off his face as I turn, walking back towards our table.

The rest of the night feels tense. Julian continues to text across the table from me. I am embarrassed, knowing Timo is watching from his relaxed position across the restaurant. The conversation between him and Irina is non-existent which seems to confirm my suspicion that they can’t communicate well. What is he even doing her with her then? I know. Naturally. And it makes me slam two expensive bottles of wine back to back. By the time we are done with dessert, I am desperately pushing back from the table to use the restroom while Julian waits for the bill.

I am not surprised to see Timo’s back outside the women’s bathroom when I am done. He glances over his shoulder at me, the smug smirk returning.

“Wow. What a catch.” Timo snickers.

“Oh stop. Like you’re one to talk.” I snort. “Does Irina even speak one of your languages?”

“Don’t need her to. I understand plenty.”

“Sure. Good for you.” I shrug beginning to walk away. Timo’s hand grips my wrist and he tugs me back into his chest.

“I have a room for us.” Shivers of pleasure rake through my scalp and dash down my body. My skin betrays me, pebbling despite the hot, humid air rolling off the sea. I feel the room key slide into my palm. “One hour.” He leans forward, skimming his lips along my shoulder in a discreet, loving gesture. Then he walks around me, sauntering back towards the resort with his hands in his pockets.

“That cheap wine from earlier is not siting well with me.” Julian groans behind me, catching me by surprise. “I’m going to call it an early night.” He rubs aggressively at his temples.

“Feel better.” I murmur, not taking my eyes off Timo’s retreating back.

“Are you coming with me?”

“No, I’m going to walk the beach.” I lie. He’s displeased but kisses my temple and heads towards the resort.

When Julian is gone, I flip the card over in my hand, seeing the room number 759 in black marker. I bite my lip, then grab my phone out of my purse.

Do you really need an hour? I text Timo. The ding of a new message comes through instantly.

No, I’m already here waiting for you.

The chime of the dishwasher cycle ending in the kitchen snaps me out of our memory. I had been working on a client proposal long after Timo and Lio went to bed. I reach for my laptop, shutting it. I bring my fingers up to rub at my eyes before pushing back from my desk. I turn the lights off in the lower level, then drag my tired body up the stairs. I poke my head into Lio’s room. He’s flat on his back, nook off to the side. The long lashes he got from his dad flutter with his dream.

“Sleep well, Lee. I love you.” I whisper, then tip toe out of the room.

In our master bedroom, Timo sleeps on his back as well. He is on top of the comforter, dressed in sweatpants and a plain white T. One arm is behind his head while the other reaches out to my side of the bed, seemingly searching for me. I walk over to him, crawling on top of his body, startling him awake. He inhales deeply as he comes to, then wraps his hands around my back. He glances over to the clock.

“You in here for good or taking a break?” He notes the 11pm time.

“For good.” His hand ghosts along my hair, stroking it back from my cheek as he sighs.

“Good. I want you all to myself.” His nose presses into my hair now too.

I reach for the remote, clicking the TV off to enclose us in complete darkness. Timo’s hands continue to rub steady strokes along my back. I turn my face, pressing my lips to the t-shirt over his sternum.

“Do you remember Ibiza?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m sorry I left before you woke up. I didn’t want to. You made me feel so… alive that night. It scared me. So I left like it meant nothing.” I trace a heart over his shirt, resting my chin on his chest. Even though we can’t see each other, I want him to hear my words. “Stupid me.”

“More like stubborn you. I love that about you.” He chuckles, his breath fanning against my face. “At least you recognize now that you were running.”

“Of course I was. Didn’t want to love you, but then nothing compared to you anyway so…”

“I’m sure Julian fucked you good, babe.” Only he could talk about someone else fucking me while oozing with his own confidence.

“Probably about as good as Irina.”

“Pillow princess.” One of Timo’s hands moves up to my pony tail. He pulls it out, tossing it onto the night stand, then rubbing his fingerprints into my scalp. I sigh, pressing my nose deeper into his chest. “Prefer my beautiful queen.” He says quietly. Gooseflesh breaks out along my skin from his touch and words.

“Love you, T.” I whisper, reaching up to hold the side of his neck. I stroke my thumb over his steady pulse.

“Love you too.” He mumbles in response. His hands tighten on me, then he rolls us. He tosses one of his beefy thighs over me, pinning me into the mattress, so we can fall asleep, comfortable and tangled in each other, like I wish we had that night in Ibiza.

#TM: Loving & Leaving #NHL blurb #hockey writing #Timo Meier Fan Fiction

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gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot · 1 year

Text

Chapter 1: Moveo Et Profitior (By my actions I am known) Part 1

Disclaimer: Innacuracies everywhere. English is not my main language

Part of the first chapter of my fic Fortis Soli, Fortiores Una (Strong Alone, Stronger Together)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47442772

Previous / Masterlist / Next

‘‘Alright, next in the list is… Sergeant… wait a minute’’ Captain John Price fumbled with the folders, discarding the one the team had been discussing until that moment, and grabbed the correct one, handing out photocopies of the basic details to the men around him in his office. Then he clicked on his laptop to show the next photo on the screen. ‘‘Sergeant Christine Vega, callsign…’’

‘‘Riot!’’ Sergeant Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish bellowed and threw his hands in the air, overjoyed. ‘‘Oh, Cap, you for sure want this one’’

‘‘I take it you know her, Soap’’ Price looked at the file in his hands, considerably thicker than the photocopy he had handed out. ‘‘Ah, yeah. She was with you in boot camp, right?’’

‘‘Affirmative. We were together in boot camp, then in a few assignments together… She is like my sister, I trust her with my life’’

‘‘Is that a good or a bad sign?’’ Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick smiled, studying the photocopy in his hands. Soap shrugged.

‘‘I swear, she is good, fucking good. Good head on her shoulders, cold in battle, a fucking beast, but charismatic. We used to say she was too fucking stubborn to just lie down and die. Relentless.’’

Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley said nothing as usual, the photocopy dangling from his hand over his crossed arms, just listening. The group had been stuck in Price’s office for almost two hours now, since the Captain had got into his head that they needed more team members. They had been going over the files of he had lost count how many, because he wasn’t interested.

He appreciated that Price wanted them in the process although it would be his the final call. What surprised him was how many people Kate Laswell had in her sights, having sent the files not even twenty minutes after Price had commented his idea in the daily meeting with the Station Chief.

So, there they were. Wasting their morning looking at faces and listening to personal data he cared very little about. But the fact Soap knew one of them, and seemed excited to vouch for them, was enough to pick his interest and raise his masked face and stare at the screen.

Light blue eyes with a touch of grey stared back at him from a serious, inexpressive face. Light blonde hair loosely braided and kept in what it seemed a half undone ponytail. The photo wasn’t the official one on file, the one he was seeing in the photocopy and Price’s folder, but a more casual one that Laswell had chosen for some reason. It showed a woman in her late twenties but young looking, wearing civvies and holding a half empty glass of beer.

The photo was clearly cropped from a larger one, as parts of bodies could be seen, and an arm thrown around the sergeant’s chair. She didn’t look happy, either at the company or at the photo being taken.

‘‘Who’s that?’’ He asked, and Price looked at the screen, and frowned. The arm over the sergeant’s chair had a tattoo of a skull impaled on a spear, with fire shooting out the empty sockets. Price grunted, and the three other men in the room perked up. If their Captain disapproved, they disapproved too.

‘‘A fucking bastard. I know that tattoo’’ Slowly, the Captain left the folder on the desk and grabbed his third cigar that morning. ‘‘That’s Captain William Rico, he commanded the HeadHunters’’

‘‘Isn’t that the company that was disbanded three months ago?’’ Gaz looked up from the photocopy, raising both his eyebrows. Price nodded, and grabbed the folder again, and started to read again.

‘‘Good at recon, licensed drone pilot, decent sniper, good with knives, fluent in five languages’’

‘‘You want her, Captain’’ Soap threw his photocopy, dutifully folded into a paper plane, and giggled when it landed right on the laptop’s keyboard.

‘‘I have the final say but I want your opinion. We have discarded four and accepted two, and she’s the last folder for today. Votes?’’

‘‘You know my vote!’’ Soap smiled widely. ‘‘I trust Christine, she’s solid, we go way back. I would put my arse in her hands without doubt… ehm… not in that way!’’

‘‘If Soap says so, that’s good enough for me’’ Gaz shrugged, placing the photocopy back on Price’s desk. The Captain nodded and looked at Ghost. He trusted the Lieutenant’s intuition more than he trusted Soap’s memories.

Ghost was still looking at the photo on the screen, and then turned his hard gaze to look at Price.

‘‘Yeah, why not’’

#cod mw2 #cod oc #cod original character #cod ghost #cod soap #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare

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dadsbongos · 2 years

Text

“Juliet is the sun."

Chapter 4 / Series Masterlist / Previous Chapter

798 words

WEDNESDAY. 3:00 PM

You talked your way into letting Robin give up the speaker system for a day so you could play the album you bought from next door. Led Zeppelin quietly drones over the wandering customers and you’re hoping to finish the album by the time you have to clock out so you can talk to Eddie about it.

“Cheese,” Robin shakes her head, pointing at you, “You smell like cheese.”

“Stop it,” you smack her hand down and turn to the woman renting Indiana Jones with her daughter, giving what you hope is a convincing smile, “I don’t smell like cheese.”

The little girl goes to lean forward and test your theory but her mother snatches her arm and the two are out of Family Video before you can tell them to have a nice day.

“I can’t believe you,” you turn back to Robin, eyes wide, “Why would you say that?”

“Because you’re cheesing over,” Robin clenches her eyes and holds both hands to her stomach, keeling over to fake gag, “a man.”

“Knock it off,” you laugh but flick her arm, “You’re being weird.”

“You’re being weird,” Robin stands up fully and squints at you, “Since when do you go to parties?”

“Since I realized I’m a senior who spent her whole life just nodding along to whatever her parents said,” you smack a hand to the front counter and don’t notice the way an old man jumps at the other end of the store, “I wanna live, Rob! Besides, Eddie’s not bad company, he’s actually really nice and funny and like, yeah, maybe I think he’s cute. It isn’t a bad deal!”

“Mozzarella with Colby Jack,” she shakes her head and Steve returns from restocking the returned films to glare at you.

“I still don’t trust that freak,” he points at you, “If he tries one thing, I swear to God- "

“Steve, I can take care of myself,” you jab the tip of your finger with the one he’s pointing, “Also, Eddie’s sweet. And you’ll be at the party we’re going to anyway, so it isn’t like I’m leaving the state without you, Mom.”

“I never said I was going to that party,” Steve looked between you and Robin, only finding unimpressed stares sent back his way.

“Are you going to that party?” Robin asks.

When he doesn’t answer, you cross your arms, “But Eddie is the bad influence. Sure.”

WEDNESDAY. 5:30 PM.

Hellfire ended a mere two minutes ago and Eddie had never cleaned up a campaign faster in his life - absolutely dreading the mere idea of being late to pick you up.

But before he can push open those ugly green double doors, there’s a voice, “Munson!”

Ms. O’Donnell is hurrying down the hall - as fast as she can in heels, anyway - a stack of papers in hand. She grins when he turns and waits for her.

“So, how’s studying going?”

Eddie shrugs and digs the hand not holding his metal lunchbox in his pocket, “‘s fine. Well,” he looks to the ceiling and his lips have the slightest twitch upwards, “we’re getting along pretty well. I wasn’t expecting it, but here we are,” when O’Donnell doesn’t speak, he continues, “She’s actually a lot nicer than I thought she’d be and I’m having a lot of fun with her. I think, uh,” he swallows the lump in his throat, “we could be friends.”

It takes a certain, special kind of nerve to admit all the lovely and cute things (and less cutesy things) he wants to do with you in front of a teacher. It takes an even more special kind of nerve to say that he’s bending over backwards to show you the underbelly of Hawkins just because you asked; and that so long as you’re being gentle with his battered heart, he’d do anything you asked.

So he doesn’t.

A.) Awkward B.) Bizarre C.) It’s none of her damn business

“That’s great,” Ms. O’Donnell pushes up her glasses, “Also, I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve decided that in order for you to have a guaranteed passing grade, I’m going to make an allowance and let you have a second final - but technically you can’t take a second one. So, it’ll be a retake of your midterm, okay?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Eddie nods, for once earnestly excited during a conversation with his three-time English 7-8 teacher.

“You can come in Thursday or Friday to do it - and that’s it, Munson. I’m already sticking my neck out for you here.”

Thursday is a Hellfire night and Friday is free. Monday is your night.

God, why can’t life always be this easy?

“Well, does that work?”

“Hell yeah!”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you.”

~~ Taglist @homiesexual-or-homosexual @chainsaw-man-inserts @juggernort 4 u <3

#within six days #wsd fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #stranger things x you #stranger things fic

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jetiisyandereclones · 2 years

Text

Dead, But Not Buried, Chapter 1

Yandere Crosshair X Reader.

Crosshair comes across a ghost from his past on the mission he takes to avenge her.

@professional-yearner

@jazzthemusician

Crosshair hated this place. It was full of memories. Full of hurt and anger and guilt.

He had barely managed to get the all clear to proceed with his personal mission. This planet had been peaceful for a long time and was of no real threat to the empire.

But Crosshair wasn't satisfied. This place was carved into his mind as a bloody battlefield, cruel and unrelenting. The picture in his head, his memories, were certainly not what he saw walking down it's streets.

People went about their lives like anywhere else. Tired, overworked teens slumped against alleyways on their break, businessmen strutted around on their datapads and children scurried underfoot as their parents yelled at them for getting too close to the road.

Crosshair observed, as he always did, from behind the visor of his helmet.

He despised them and envied them. Each one. All of them.

They lived and thrived in the life she should be living. The life they would have had together.

The last time he was here, his love had been killed. He had been ordered to abandon her. Leave her to rot in the middle of a battlefield that she didn't even want to be on, her corpse most likely peppered with thousands of bolts from both enemy blasters and their own weapons.

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

6 YEARS AGO:

"TECH! COME IN TECH! WERE GETTING VAPORIZED DOWN HERE! PLEASE TELL ME YOU HAVE THOSE DRONES IN THE AIR!"

The Jedi commed her pilot for what felt like the thousandth time today. She was desperately trying to deflect the bolts coming toward her and her men to buy some time for their retreat, but the rebels were closing in fast, their numbers far outmatching their own.

"These drones were not made for self-piloting. I need more time to upload a new program that will allow me to pre plan their flight path so I wont need to manually control them beyond the initial first command. I'll need at least three more minutes."

The Jedi felt like screaming. She had known that the original plan of simply flanking and overwhelming them with numbers and intimidation wouldn't work.

But she came here, and she had a job to do. So, she kept deflecting.

A new signal came in. The voice in her ear coy and smug, despite the dire situation.

"I would recommend falling back towards me, Sweetheart. There's about to be some visitors on your left flank"

The soldiers she had been protecting had all made their way to find some sort of cover, Captain Rex and Commander Tano giving her the all clear to get herself out of there.

The woman nodded at her fellow soldiers and Jedi, backing up towards a tall outcropping of rocks opposite to where the majority of her men where taking cover behind the tree lines of a forest.

she force jumped onto a small ledge, taking up the spare rifle that had been placed there and falling into a snipers rest next to the clone who was still taking shot after shot at the rebels.

The Jedi spoke, her words punctuated by the bolts she sent out into the smokey field.

"This would have *shoot* been so much easier *shoot shoot* if we had just *shoot* gone with the plan we made *shoot, shoot, shoot* originally!"

Crosshair broke his rest briefly to playfully nudge the irate Jedi's shoulder.

"And here I thought Jedi didn’t get angry. If it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure I saw General Skywalker get stunned earlier. So at least you can say you won that bet"

The Jedi startled, not realizing Crosshair had overheard that particular conversation, her jerky movements causing her to miss her target.

"Ugghh, shit. How did you even know about that, you were on the ship!"

The sniper smirked.

"I have eyes and ears everywhere kitten. Always."

"Okay, that's not creepy at-"

"CROSSHAIR, Y/N, INCOMING!"

The target Y/N missed had seen her position on the outcropping, swiftly sending a rocket right into their faces. Neither had time to react before they were flung from their hide, being tossed from the cliff and right back into the field.

Crosshair got up, but his Commander, his friend and love, wasn't moving.

"Commander? COMMANDER! Get up, we need to go!"

The sniper grabbed and shook her shoulder, desperately trying to get some sort of reaction out of the Jedi, but none came.

" NO! Nonono NO! Please...Y/N. Please..." the clone begged, his voice small and pleading as he pulled her upper body to rest against his own

Tech's voice came through the com, his voice thick with restrained grief.

"Crosshair, I'm not picking up on any vital signs-"

"No"

"Crosshair, you need to fall-"

"-NO! I won’t leave her here!"

A new voice joined in, it's authoritative tone left no room for contradiction.

"CROSSHAIR! Fall back. That's an order!"

General Skywalker's was firm, but the sniper heard its hitch.

"We can’t help her, not anymore. I'm ordering a full retreat, you need to fall back now!."

Crosshair ripped off his helmet at this, his eyes red and vision blurring as he tenderly caressed his loves hair and cheek for the first, and last time, gently resting their foreheads together for a short, painful moment. The dust in the air around them gave the grieving clone a brief moment of cover to mourn the life he had almost had and the woman he had lost.

"Forgive me, my love."

Crosshair lowered the woman's body to the ground, before snatching up his helmet and her lightsaber then bolting back towards the dropships as thousands of his vod's reprogramed drones made quick work of their enemy.

Three minutes too late, Crosshair though bitterly.

PRESENT DAY

Crosshairs plan was simple.

Coral the civilians and squeeze them until they give up the names and locations of all existing members of the rebellion. From there, wipe them all out.

That was the official reason for this mission. He had reported some 'intelligence' that suggested insurgents were gathering again. knowing first hand the kind of damage the previous rebellion did, he recommended that he be allowed to find and wipe them out before they could properly form another rebellion, this time against the empire.

The true reason?

Crosshair wanted revenge. He wanted payback.

He wanted CLOSURE.

The sniper had seen her every night in his dreams for the last six years.

His beautiful, cruel Y/N.

Every night he saw her face, dead; Pale grey and sunken. The nightly visions allowed him no rest in his waking moments either.

He sometimes saw her face in a crowd reaching a rotting hand out to him, he heard her voice in the wind, whispering betrayal into his ear.

'Why do you get to live, but I had to die?' Y/N would ask.

This would put an end to his never ending nightmares, Crosshair was sure of it.

He left her there, but now he would finally avenge her, put Y/N to rest once and for all.

The empire gave him this. Gave him the means to pull off his mission and maybe, just maybe, find some peace in the dead of night. That was what his brothers hadn't understood.

He needed it, needed this. The empire could give it to him. The empire could put an end to his torture.

The clone had set up in an abandoned building project that overlooked one of the busiest districts on the planet. His HUD picking up the heat signatures of thousands of people going about their days below.

He smirked cruelly to himself. This was good, the more people he could cage, the more likely someone was to have any real intelligence.

Crosshair resisted the urge to yawn and rub his eyes.

His latest nightmare had shaken him awake well before dawn, as per usual. it was the same vision he'd had every night for the last six years.

Crosshairs darling Y/N stood in a field of bones and blood, and as she turned to him, her youthful beauty melted off. Her hands were gnarled and twisted and her face grew cold vengeful.

She screamed and screamed at him. Accusing him of killing her. screeching how her death was his fault, that her sacrifice meant nothing, that he was wasting her life.

He had begged back in the dream, trembling and shaking on his knees. The cowed man pleading with her not to accuse him; to forgive him for not saving her, not joining her in death.

Crosshair tried to convince his ghostly love that her sacrifice had not been wasted, that he would avenge her, then he would join her.

But she didn't believe him.

She never did.

The dream ended like it always did. With her cold, bony hands wrapping around his throat, her ghostly lips sealing on his, sucking the air out of his lungs as he writhed in agony and pleasure.

He craved her love and affection, but would bask in her anger and cruelty if thats all she would offer.

The sniper would take on a thousand years of pain if it meant he could have just a few more moments with her to treasure. However this night, like all other nights, it was not meant to be.

Crosshair silently woke drenched in sweat. He stiffly climbed out of bed with shaking legs before forcing himself to get ready for the missions ahead of him.

"Sir, we are all ready and in position. Waiting for your Command"

Crosshair heard one of his troops com. This particular woman was...Dedicated to him, to say the least. she thought she hid it behind a wall of duty, but he saw right through her.

She was an attractive person, he supposed. Anyone with eyes could have seen it. She was slender, strong and tall with a peircing set of deep brown eyes that made most men crumble and pant.

Not Crosshair though.

Crosshair had never felt anything for her, only seeing her as a useful thing.

She was useful, both on the field and off it. On missions he knew that she wouldn't question even the bloodiest of orders he gave her. Then off the field, he had a warm body he could fuck into the mattress from behind without resistance. Crosshair took out his frustrations and leftover adrenaline on her coldly and distantly. Then when it was over, he just got up and left the troop lying there, collapsed on the bed and breathing rough.

He wasn't even sure if she finished. He knew how to make it happen of course. But he couldn't bring himself to hear the finishing cries of a stranger, a TOY, and not the lovely pants of the woman he loved with everything he had in him.

If there were any... unexpected consequences... Afterwards, then it was no business of his what she decided to do about it. The trooper could decide what would happen, alone.

Crosshair just ripped himself away from her when he was finished and stalked back to his own bunk without so much as a rub on the back, or a whispered word of praise.

Those were for his lost love.

It wasn't even the troops name he growled out as he came, roughly slamming his hips into her ass.

It was Y/N's.

she should be the one he was in bed with right now. He should be making love slowly and sweetly to her. Making her whine, kissing her forehead as he cradled her warmly to him and slowly eased her open with his fingers before rocking into her.

How he wished he could feel the slide of her naked, sweat slicked skin against his. Feel her wrapped warmly around him as he sunk slowly into her, bringing her to sweet pleasure over and over again as he nuzzled into her face and shoulder and entwining his long fingers with her own.

By now he might've even been gently cradling a baby bump for her. Soothing their beautiful, squirming child into a state of calm so he could pleasure its mother properly.

Crosshair longed to caress and sooth and map his lost darlings body, to take her into his arms and drift off to sleep with her. Then in the morning he’d wake her up with loving kisses all over her face, Huffing out a gentle and genuine laugh as his stubble made her giggle sweetly.

Instead, he had to resign himself to imagining her with him as he used another woman's body.

He loathed it, and sometimes, he loathed the troop that though she could replace Y/N.

The light crept into the half-finished room he had set up in, the sunshine warm and gentle.

taking a breath to center himself in the present, crosshair took one last look at his targets through his scope.

Ants, all of them. All ready to be crushed beneath his boot.

"Begin the operation"

He gave the command and dozens of planted bombs went off, causing panic and mayhem as falling debris trapped them in the town square.

He would enjoy this.

Crosshair stalked the perimeter of the crowd.

watching, listening. Always watching and listening.

His troop was on the hunt, ruthlessly and efficiently weeding out any possible informants. He would admit she was good at this.

The soldier could hear whimpering and crying, begging and pleading. Crosshair just sneered.

They were weak. All of them willing to step over each other for a chance of survival, throwing whoever they could into the fire to try and gain some favour.

Crosshair was slowly pacing by a group of people who were moving around restlessly, causing a scene and bringing attention to themselves. It seemed in the civilians haste to find somewhere to take cover from his trap, an older man had been trampled. There was a woman crouched down next to him, his head on her lap as she bent over him to try and get a better look at his injuries.

A waste of time, in crosshairs opinion. He didn’t need his HUD or his helmets mic to hear his wheezing, see the blood being coughed up. His ribs were broken and had punctured his lungs.

That man would choke on his blood very soon. Nothing the woman could do would stop it.

Seeing the armoured man just standing there and watching them, the woman stood up and looked directly at him, somehow finding his eyes despite his dark visor.

When her gaze met his, everything around the clone ceased to exist.

“You’re just going to stand there and watch him die? Why don’t you do something?” She furiously demanded of him.

Crosshair would usually meet this kind of challange with a bolt to the head. But for the first time in a long time, he was completely stunned, unable to process what he was seeing.

The sniper's head suddenly pounded as one command shot across his mind like a bullet.

Execute Order 66.

Crosshairs chest started heaving, his breathing ragged and uneaven. In his distracted state he failed to notice that his troop had seen her Commanders distress and had made her way over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, concerened as the clone mumbled manically to himself.

"Sir?"

The clone gripped his firepuncher so hard it shook, his trigger finger twitching with muscle memory and programming, but he never raised it. Instead he seemed to fold on himself, shaking his head as if trying to shy away from the mystery woman in front of him.

"Good soldiers follow orders, good soldiers follow orders.

Good soldiers follow orders, good soldiers follow orders.

Good soldiers follow orders, good soldiers follow-"

The clone abruptly cut himself off with a gasp, his mind snapping to blissful clarity, the voices, the screaming, all gone.

His chest was still visibly rising and falling as Crosshairs beloved firepuncher slid from his slack, shaking hands. It hit the ground loudly, clattering against the stone walkway.

He couldn't breath or think or do anything but tear off his helmet, a single word was whispered in disbelief and astonishment from his lips.

"Y/N..."

#yandere crosshair x reader #yandere crosshair x Jedi!reader

27 notes · View notes

springdandelixn · 2 years

Text

Je te vois - Finale

Dark!Jorah x Daenerys

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41178564/chapters/103407948

Warnings: Story contains rape/noncon elements. Jorah is the bad guy. Please proceed with caution if that is not your cup of tea.

This chapter was inspired by darkficsyouneveraskedfor’s prompt "I knew the moment I saw you."

Part One

The week passes by in a buzz and Daenerys couldn’t be happier to finally leave the company.

She received the contract from Blackbird Publishing the very next day after the party and after seeing how much they were willing to pay her just for an internship. She immediately sent a scanned copy of the signed contract and squealed in delight in her living room, jumping up and down in celebration.

But what drives her, even more, to be excited about leaving is that she won’t see Lynesse and Peggy any longer who’s made it a routine to pass by her cubicle every day since they came back from the party and blab about meaningless hearsay about her relationship with Jorah.

She knew people would start talking, it was impossible for them not to be seen together. They were so close to one another and Lynesses saw it first hand. She doesn’t doubt they saw him kiss her hand too as well as waited with her for her Uber at the entrance of the hotel after she declined his offer to take her home himself.

“We’re just friends.” She tells them in sheer annoyance while typing aimlessly at her computer, a poor attempt into ignoring and tuning them out.

“ Friends? ” Lynesse scoffs while Peggy mimics her like some parrot. When did they even become friends? “Who would want to be friends with you?” They both laugh at her face, her fists closing tightly as she tries to steady her breathing and prevent herself from bursting.

“For all we know you’re fucking the boss so you won’t be some lousy assistant any—”

“Who’s fucking the boss?”

Daenerys’ eyes widen in shock when she hears Jorah’s voice over theirs, looking up from her screen and seeing him standing behind them, a wide smile on his face while he stares down at the two girls when they turn to face him.

“Mr. Mormont—!” Peggy stammers, her body shivering as she looks down in complete embarrassment.

“Do continue with your story,” Jorah says with sarcasm, leaning his hip against the cubicle wall and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m quite curious to know who our dear Ms. Targaryen is sleeping with, so she won’t be a lousy assistant any longer.” He says with ridicule.

Both girls stay quiet, their heads pointed at their feet as they fidget in place. And Daenerys can’t even feel sorry for them even if she tried. They’ve been harassing her all week, taunting her and hounding her, asking her embarrassing questions that she doesn’t even have answers to, the answers that they’re looking for.

“Ms. Hightower?” Jorah drones, his hand casually resting on his waist. “Correct me if I’m wrong but you’re not in this department, am I right?”

“Correct, Sir.” Lynesse whispers, the woman visibly wincing when Jorah hums audibly, the sound echoing throughout the floor.

“Then please kindly tell me why you’re here and not at your desk, working.” Daenerys senses the bite in Jorah’s words, turning her head to face her monitor once again, not wanting to see the anger bubbling up within him. “It’s not even lunch break.”

“I—I don’t know,” Lynesse mumbles, seeing her eyes tear up from her periphery.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Jorah mocks. “Because funny enough I know why you’re here.” His voice tightening in anger as he adds. “You’re here because you came to harass Ms. Targaryen who, as I can see from where I stand,” Jorah’s eyes dart to her for a quick second before facing both women once again. “is trying to do her job. You’re here because your life is so meaningless and dull that you have to fill it with petty lies and gossip to get the satisfaction that you exist and are better than anyone in this working environment. But most of all,” He stops mid-sentence and Daenerys can feel him smirking as she spies the two women standing stock still in their place, their mouths slack from Jorah’s wrath. “You’re here because it saves me the time to go to your stations and dismiss you both from your jobs.”

“What?!” Lynesse and Peggy say in unison, the latter already bursting into tears as she covers her face from humiliation. Daenerys gasps in shock and looks up at the two girls and then at Jorah, his blue eyes swimming in fury, his eyes completely focused on his target.

“You heard me. You’re both fired.” Jorah says with finality, his back going straight as he stands upright once more, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I will not tolerate such toxic behavior in my company nor will I allow you both to continue harassing other employees with your bullshit lies and accusations.”

“But—Mr. Mormont—” Lynesse tries to rebuttal, tears freely falling from her face, but comes out empty, her head turning to the crying girl beside her. “It was Peggy’s fault!” She points at the other girl. “She told me to come here!” She says in a rush, Peggy looking up at the blonde girl with pure betrayal on her face.

“Enough!” Jorah roars, making both women cower and everyone on the floor either looking at them in shock or hiding in fear, including her. “I will not hear anymore of your excuses! Pack up your desks and leave the premises immediately! If I don’t hear from your superiors that you’ve already left the building in the next 30 minutes, I will have security drag you out. Do I make myself clear?”

They both nod and scurry back into their workstations, the cries of Peggy echoing throughout the office space. She doesn’t even dare to look at her and see if she would actually pack up her stuff and go, not when Jorah continues to stand by her spot, his eyes stoic as he looks around the office, every head who’s witnessed the gruesome exchange looking down to busy themselves with their work, not wanting to offend their president.

“Ms. Targaryen.” Daenerys winces when he whispers her name, peeking up from her lashes, and seeing him still facing the room. “I want to see you in my office at noon sharp. Understood?” Jorah instructs and doesn’t wait for her answer before walking down the corridor and to Tyrion’s office.

She releases the breath she’s been holding when she hears the door close, her head bowing down as she feels a wave of desolation rush over her. She knew Jorah to be strict, heck, every executive in the company was but it was in good faith that they were, to keep a good balance of work and play in the office. But not once has she seen him angry, she doesn’t even think anyone has seen him that furious for she’s never heard anyone say anything about his temper. Only praises of how a good boss Jorah Mormont is. But after that display, she doubts anyone would ever say he’s perfect. She doubts anyone would even open their mouth at all.

Daenerys looks up from her feet when the elevator dings, signaling her arrival on the top floor. No one else aside from Jorah and his assistant, Samwell, stays on this level, the space igniting the inevitable nervousness at the pit of her stomach as only the sound of her heels clicking against the marble surface and the typing on Samwell’s keyboard fills the void.

She didn’t hear from Jorah any longer after the fiasco at her department. No emails nor calls to help assure her that she’s in the clear from what happened. Not that she was expecting any but she can’t shake away the feeling that he’ll be doing the same thing he did to those girls with her when she steps into his office.

I don’t have to be afraid. I did nothing wrong. She tells herself but it does little to boost her confidence in facing the CEO. If anything, it just solidified her anxiety and her conclusion that Jorah was going to fire her for being the reason for such drama in the office. But it shouldn’t matter, right? Even if he does fire her, she’ll be leaving the company in a week to begin her career as a photographer. But what if he revokes his endorsement? What if he tells Petyr that she’s a troublemaker? She doesn’t even know what mood Jorah would be in when she sees him. Will he still be fuming? Will he shout at her? The negativity continues to pile up in her head, her heart pounding loudly against her chest, making her breathe heavily and stumble as she stops by Samwell’s desk.

“Oh, Daenerys,” Samwell chirps when he looks up from his monitor, Daenerys giving him a small wave. “Have a seat. I’ll let Mr. Mormont know that you’re here.”

She squeaks a soft ‘thank you’ and occupies the middle seat on the waiting bench across Samwell’s desk, placing her purse atop her lap. Not too close and not too far. A perfect angle to gauge the atmosphere in the room.

The typing resumes from Samwell’s end and Daenerys can’t help but fidget in anticipation in her seat. She grabs her phone and presses a button to bring the screen to life. 11:55 AM. She’s early and it makes her sigh, thinking that she could have come a bit later to lessen the waiting time and the fear that completely overcomes her.

“Mr. Mormont is ready to see you now,” Samwell announces, the sound of his chair rolling back as he stands from his desk filling her ears, Daenerys standing along with him and inhaling deeply when she walks with him to the door. Samwell knocks lightly on it 3 times before pushing the wooden barrier open and ushering her in.

She doesn’t hear a response when he announces her presence, her heart jumps in her throat when the door closes with a light click, Daenerys swallows thickly as she scans the modernly decorated office space that’s big enough to fit 3 conference rooms and stops at the floor-to-ceiling window when she sees Jorah standing in front of it, his eyes already locked on her and a grin on his face while holding an old-fashioned glass that’s half filled with amber liquid.

“Darling,” Jorah’s voice cuts through the silence and Daenerys forces a smile as she takes a tentative step forward. “You made it. Please, have a seat.” He gestures to the L-shaped couch facing the windows.

“I—I didn’t want to disappoint you.” She says in a soft voice as she walks toward him, angling herself when she reaches the couch and takes a seat in the middle just as he instructed. And it gives Daenerys a slight sense of ease to see that Jorah is back in his usual calm mood. He called me Darling. That’s a good sign, right?

“I know you would never disappoint me.” She notices how his grin turns playful as he says those words, her eyes darting forward to look at the skyline of London on display before them instead of his eyes. “How are you feeling?” The question takes her by surprise.

“Okay, I guess,” She mumbles, her hands fidgeting on the strap of her purse from the nervouness clawing at her throat. She then bursts into tears as she balls her fists tight. “Mr. Mormont—I am so sorry.” She begins, the tears immediately flowing down her cheeks. “I kept telling them to stop and I kept telling the truth, that we’re just friends and they wouldn’t believe me. They just wouldn’t no matter how much I tell them. Then—when—you saw them and I should have just told them off but—but—” She chokes and wipes her tears away harshly with her palm, feeling her make-up smudge on her skin and her hand. The tension is just too much for her to handle and the fear that she’s disrupted the company’s peace weighing heavily on her shoulders. That what happened with Lynesse and Peggy was her fault and that it has jeopardized any chances she has to fulfill her dreams. “Please—Please don’t revoke your recommendation to Mr. Baelish. I’ll stay an extra month until you find replacements for the vacant posts. I’ll—I’ll—”

“Daenerys,” Her rambling breaks off when she hears the strength in Jorah’s voice, looking up at the man with a deep frown on her face, her tears continuously rolling down her cheek with the droplets making their way to her hands. “I want you to relax. I’m not revoking anything.” He says calmly before a light chuckle leaves his lips. “I didn’t call you here to scold you.”

“You didn’t?” She asks as she sniffles.

“No,” A low laugh echoes through the office, Jorah’s chest rumbling as he does. “I called you here because I wanted to give you something.” His hand holding the glass then stretches and gestures towards the box she hadn’t noticed when she walked in sitting on the coffee table in front of her wrapped in black paper with a red ribbon laying on top of it. “That’s yours.”

“I—” She blinks fast and eyes the box before looking back up at her boss. “I don’t understand.”

“That’s alright,” Jorah says as he places the glass atop the coffee table, striding back on his desk and taking a box of tissues that he sets beside the mysterious gift. “Calm yourself down first then you may open it.”

She nods and pulls out several tissues from the box and shyly wipes her face dry, the frown deepening even further when she sees her foundation and mascara smear on it, trying her best to clear whatever residue is left. A gasp then leaves her lips when she feels the tissues being snatched from her hand, Jorah now taking a seat beside her and taking hold of her chin, tilting her head back to face him before wiping her face himself.

She sees his eyes boring into her, the blues turning darker by the minute as if he’s staring into her soul. A low rumble then sounds from his throat when he runs the tissue against her lip, his thumb following suit as he runs the pad against it, the smirk on his lips making itself known once again.

“You look beautiful, Darling, even after crying.” She hears Jorah say and Daenerys breaks their eye contact, looking down as much as she could, refusing to look up at him as she feels her cheeks heat from the comment. “And what happened with those girls was not your fault.” He says with a nod. “I told you before, I will not hesitate to fire anyone who spreads ill rumors in my company.”

She does remember. Back at the party; His words firm and sure of what he was to do if anyone dared to speak lies about him.

She keeps her head down and nods when he releases her, the soiled tissue sheets balled up and tossed carelessly onto the coffee table. The black mystery box is now placed on her lap and Daenerys reaches up to run her finger against the glittering ribbon.

“Go on.” Jorah urges. “Open it. And I hope you like it.”

She peeks up at him once and takes a breath, peeling the ribbon off and placing it down on the couch before carefully unwrapping the tape off on each side, unfolding the paper, not wanting to ruin the delicate wrapping. Her eyes then grow wide when the paper drapes off on her lap, revealing the brand new DSLR camera staring back at her.

“I—Jorah,” She hiccups, looking up to see him staring at her once again, this time, a soft smile playing on his lips. “This is for me?” This can’t be real.

“Well I don’t see anyone else here but the two of us,” Daenerys couldn’t help but chuckle softly at his joke.

“But why?” She asks, her hands skimming against the box and pushing the flap open to pull the camera out of the box, confirming the gift to be real.

“I wanted you to have a good start on your first day, next week.” He says as a matter-of-fact. How does he know that? “Petyr went ahead and told me when you were starting, so I went and picked this up. I wasn’t sure if you already had one but if you do, now you have two, but I sincerely hope that you would use this one more.”

“I—I don’t know what to say,” Daenerys whispers as she runs her thumb against the body of the camera.

She’s always wanted one of these. To allow her to take pictures professionally and not through her phone or a borrowed camera from the library. But with all the bills she had to pay, even a debt that isn’t even hers but her stupid brother’s, the paycheck of an assistant was just barely enough to have her skim by each day.

And now she has one but she doesn’t understand why Jorah would go out of his way to get her such an expensive gift. She does have a hunch, with the pet name and the way he acts around her but chooses not to dwell on it. To not entertain it. A boss cannot harbor feelings for their subordinates. It’s against company policy. And even if he did, that she continues to convince herself that he doesn’t, she cannot entertain as such with Jon in her life. Yes, she would want Jon to be similar to Jorah in terms of attention but no—it can’t be. They are simply friends and he’s just being kind. But do friends even gift each other items that are over 4 digits? Jon wouldn’t even think about giving her one, yet this man did and it makes her question, “Why?”

“Why what? Don’t you like the gift?”

“No, I love it.” She mutters, “But I don’t understand why you would give me something like this. This is too much, Jorah. I—I’m just your employee.”

“And a good one.” He affirms, his leg crossing over his knee as he leans back against the couch, his arm stretched over the back. “And I believe that good employees, obedient employees, deserve rewards. Don’t you?”

“I—I don’t know.” She sighs and runs her finger against the lens. “I don’t think I can accept this.”

“You can and you will.” The sudden anger in his voice takes her by surprise, seeing Jorah’s lips set into a thin line when she looks up, his eyes narrowing at her whilst his hand lightly taps on the cushion at her side. “And you will say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Mormont. I appreciate this gift.’”

There’s a threat to his words as if he’s taunting her, and the fact that he’s eliminated his first name worries her even further, scares her even, that she’s offended him deeply. Forcing herself to smile, Daenerys takes the strap of the camera and wears it around her neck carefully, the weight of Jorah’s stare heavier than the device.

“Thank you, Mr. Mormont,” She breathes. “I appreciate this gift.”

“Good Girl.” Jorah praises and reaches over to flip the camera on, holding it up for her to take. Good Girl? “Go on. Try it. I can be your first model.” He grins and nods at the device.

Swallowing thickly, she fiddles with the lens and lifts the device to position her eye against the viewfinder, focusing on Jorah who fixes his tie and faces her, seeing the blue of his eyes darker than before when she presses the button and the shutter echoes through.

The morning autumn breeze blows through the city, leaves of gold and red scattering the sidewalks and crunching underneath her shoes, excitement thrumming through her veins as her camera bag hangs and swings from her shoulder, and a wide smile radiating from her lips as she walks up the stone steps of Blackbird Publishing.

The building isn’t as big as her previous company, in fact, if you didn’t pay attention or have no idea of what the company’s logo looked like, you would miss it. Daenerys likes it that way, the lobby of the building already exuding comfort with several chairs and bean bags scattered on the floor, a small Starbucks kiosk nestled at the corner, and shelves of books and magazines everywhere you looked.

Daenerys steps up to the reception desk and gives her name, the woman smiling at her as she hands her a badge, directing her to the hall of elevators and instructing her to go to the 5th floor. She thanks her and pins the badge on her dress, following the instruction and waiting in anticipation for the metal doors to open.

Natasha, a woman wearing a plaid shirt over a black tank top and cargo shorts, her hair red as the fire, the Head of Imagery greets her with smiling eyes, Daenerys giggling at how happy she receives her in their department. They engage in small talk for a while as Natasha walks her through the hall, saying the name of each room and what it does in between stories of how her husband ruined her red shirt from a science experiment, with her ending up wearing a green one, to which she adds, “It’s my husband’s favorite color.”

She then introduces Victor—her partner in crime—as Natasha puts it, a tall and lanky guy, with round specs over his eyes and soft-looking, blond hair, his office covered in posters of past award-winning photographs that were featured in their magazine. He’s kind and attentive, to Daenerys’ observation and within minutes of getting to know each other, she slowly dives into the motion of her work, following the instructions Victor gives her and smiling when he bids her a job well done.

The day goes by in a whirl. Her mind intensely focused on the tasks she’s given that she ignores the constant buzzing of her phone in her pocket. She knows it’s Jon and it deflates her a bit that she can’t respond immediately, not wanting to ruin any of the photos she’s been tasked to edit by Victor and Natasha, but at the same time, she feels happy that he’s finally being more involved in her life.

They reconciled after the party, Jon feeling remorseful for his lack of attention and sensitivity to Daenerys’ feelings after she opened up about his misgivings. It’s not like she’s perfect, she has flaws too and she apologized for them as well. And it just makes her feel giddy that their love is slowly rekindling itself, the feeling carrying over to her work, making her hum in her seat as she clicks through the editing software.

When break time finally arrives, Daenerys stretches her arms and her back after sitting for so long but smiles as she sees her task list was almost done. The workload is just as tedious as her previous admin job but the fact that she’s doing what she loves takes away the stress from it all.

“I’ll be having lunch outside, Dany!” Victor calls out, raising his lunch bag in her direction.

“Enjoy!” She calls in return, waving at her co-worker and turning back to her computer, pulling her phone out from her pocket to respond to the messages she’s received.

Just as she suspected, there was a text from Jon and it makes her smile as she reads his wishes of good luck and his confirmation for their celebratory dinner tonight. What she doesn’t expect were several messages and a missed call from an unknown number, but as she reads the messages, she immediately knows that it was Jorah, asking her how her day was going and what time she was off, another one asking how she was adjusting, and another telling her about a meeting he feels stuck in.

Not that she didn’t appreciate such messages, they just came unexpectedly. Jorah has never messaged her on her personal number before. She doesn’t even remember exchanging numbers with him at all, her curiosity piquing up as she thinks how he got hold of hers but she answers her question all the same. Company Directory . Of course, he has access to it, probably the reason why he took the initiative to send Mr. Baelish her email.

She sends a quick reply to Jon, giddily telling him how excited she is about their dinner tonight then sending one to Jorah, replying that she’s having a blast at her new job.

She places her phone down on her desk and reaches for her backpack to take the sandwich she’s prepared for lunch when her phone starts ringing, startling her in the process. Her heart then hammers against her chest when she sees the same unknown number calling, Jorah’s face popping in her mind as she watches her phone vibrate in her hand.

Taking a steady breath, she presses her thumb against the green icon and slides it against the screen, lifting the device to her ear.

“Hello?” She answers, looking down at the sandwich sitting on her desk.

“Darling, I was worried you weren’t getting my messages,” Jorah says, a happy tone in his voice. “How are you? How’s your first day?”

She hums and scratches her thumb against her desk. “It’s been great. Sorry I wasn’t able to reply immediately. I didn’t want to get distracted with my tasks.”

“That’s alright, Darling.” The pet name returns, making Daenerys squirm uncomfortably in her seat. “I just wanted to invite you for dinner tonight. You know, to celebrate your first day?”

Her heart sinks. Dinner? What does she tell him? She already knows that Jorah wouldn’t be happy knowing she has plans. The way his voice sounded when he told her to accept the camera still fresh in her memory, a spark of fear running down her spine.

“I—I’m sorry, Jorah. I can’t.” She mumbles. “I’m having dinner with Jon tonight.” She shuts her eyes tight when the line goes silent, her heart pounding hard against her chest as she awaits his response.

“I see,” She hears the disappointment in his voice, Daenerys hating herself that she even has to feel apologetic for rejecting him. The instinct to please she developed when working as an assistant resurfacing.

“I’m really sorry, Jorah.” Daenerys frowns in worry. “How about tomorrow? I’m free tomorrow.”

“What time is your dinner anyway?” He asks.

“We’ll be meeting at O’Malley’s Pub at 8.” She answers.

There’s a slight pause at his end, muffled voices and movement playing in the background. “We can grab a couple of drinks then while you wait for him. We’ll pre-game as others call it.”

“I’m not sure. I don’t want to get drunk.”

“Just a drink.” He insists. “Just until he arrives and I’ll leave you be.”

It’s just one drink. There’s no harm in that right? And it doesn’t seem like a bad idea to have company while waiting for Jon. She knows 8 pm was just a tentative time with him anyway, that the possibility he would be a couple of minutes late from his shift is close to a hundred.

And Jorah just probably wants to know how she’s adjusting to her new job. She wouldn’t be here anyway if it wasn’t for him. If he didn’t give a good word to Mr. Baelish in the first place. And he’s just asking for a drink, it’s the least she could do after everything he’s given her, after everything he’s done for her.

She schools her emotions and releases a calming breath, nodding to his request even when he cannot see her. “A drink sounds great. And we can still go on that dinner tomorrow too, the timing is just off today.” She tries to sound happy, hoping that Jorah believes her sincerity.

“Amazing! I’ll pick you up at the end of your shift then.” He says, his voice much lighter than earlier, making Daenerys release a relieved sigh. “See you, Darling.” He bids.

“See you.” She says back, keeping the phone on her ear as she waits for Jorah to end the call.

Placing her phone face down on her desk once more, she picks up her sandwich and unwraps it, taking her mind off of the conversation earlier. She doesn’t want to dwell so much on Jorah’s reactions, doesn’t think about Jon either for she knows that if she gets caught up in such an emotional strain, it would affect her work and she doesn’t want to fuck up on her first day.

Taking a tentative bite of her sandwich, she hums and closes her eyes as she tries to return to her earlier joy when coming to work. Nothing and nobody should have the power to ruin her day.

“Only great things will happen from now on, Dany.” She tells herself. “Great things.”

She waves goodbye to Victor after logging out of her computer and then at Natasha as she heads to the elevator. The rest of the day seemed to go by so fast that when she looked up from her monitor, her shift was already over.

It still feels surreal for her that her life seems to be heading into the right direction. No more working just to get by. No more fear that her money wouldn’t last her the week. And most importantly, no more dreaming of becoming who she wants to be, for she’s already taking the first steps into turning her dreams into a reality.

The sound of the elevator suddenly brings Jorah to the forefront of her mind. She forgot to text him that she was already done her shift. She was quite thankful that her phone stopped buzzing for the entire duration of her work, Jon wasn’t an avid texter so she didn’t really expect anything from him but Jorah, she was worried that he would send her more messages and the thought of him being upset because she wasn’t responding made her shiver in worry.

‘ Shift just ended. ’ She quickly types on her phone and sends it. A ping coming immediately soon after, a reply from Jorah. ‘ Waiting outside. ’

How does he know when I’m off? She clutches her phone tightly in her hand as thoughts of Jorah and his action come to the surface of her mind. That for some reason, Jorah knows so much about her and what she does. How he seems to appear at the right moment without her even disclosing anything to him. It’s probably just a coincidence. She convinces herself and refuses to listen to the voice at the back of her head saying ‘ It’s because he likes you .’ Her contact details are available to the company and getting off from work at such a time is the norm in almost all working environments. Yes, a coincidence. She nods to herself and wills the ill thoughts back where she can never think of them.

Just as she expected, she sees Jorah standing in front of the building, his usual navy suit enveloping him perfectly. But what catches her attention is the bouquet of roses in his hand, a smile playing on his lips when he spots her among the passing strangers and walks towards her, meeting her halfway.

“Hi.” He breathes, holding out the bouquet to her. “For you. To celebrate your first day.”

She takes them and smiles back at him, lifting the flowers to her nose to take a whiff of the fragrance. “Jorah, you shouldn—” No, he doesn’t like his decisions being questioned. That day in his office coming to light once again. The anger in his voice and the words he said echoing in her head.

You can and you will.

Taking a deep breath, she keeps the smile on her face. “Thank you, Jorah. They’re lovely.”

“I’m glad you like them.” He says as he reaches over and takes her pack hanging loosely on her shoulders. “So, do you want to wait at O’Malley’s, or would another place suit your taste while we wait for that boyfriend of yours?” She doesn’t miss the tightness in Jorah’s voice when he mentions Jon and it somehow deflates her that there’s an unspoken tension that revolves around both men.

She asks, “What do you prefer? I think Jon will text me when he’s on his way to the pub anyway.” And she only does so to appease her former boss.

“There’s a place called Tres at the edge of town. About 15 minutes from the pub by car.” He says as he opens the back of the car and places her bag inside, taking the flowers from her grasp after. “I heard their cocktails are phenomenal.”

“Sounds good.” She says and carefully gets in the passenger seat after Jorah’s opens the door, a gasp of surprise escaping her when his hand takes hold of the seatbelt before leaning over, his face so close to her as he locks the belt in place.

“Must keep you safe.” He gives her a playful wink as he rights himself once more and closes her door.

Tres is not the place Daenerys was expecting Jorah would be taking her to. It’s like she was transported back into the 1920s as soon as she stepped through their door. Soft light illuminates the place with plush leather booths surrounding the elegant, mahogany bar sitting in the middle of the room, with two bartenders mixing drinks in front of their patrons. It was more of a Gentleman’s Club if anything, with several men clad in suits occupying the seats with their female companions dressed in cocktail dresses.

It suddenly makes her feel out of place as she looks down at her attire, a plain white dress that stops just above her knees with a brown belt tied around her waist. Her sneakers look even more inappropriate compared to the heels that are strapped around the women’s ankles.

She takes a step back, feeling like an alien entering another universe when she feels a hand press against her lower back, looking up to see Jorah staring down at her, his blue eyes soft yet full of question.

“I don’t think I belong here,” She mutters, her eyes unrelenting in scanning the place. “I’m not even dressed properly to be here.”

“There’s no dress code.” Jorah in tones, his hand moving to the side of her waist and resting it on her hip. “And you look lovely as always. Shall we sit?”

But she doesn’t get to give her answer as he tugs her to his side, striding down the row of booths and claiming the one at the very corner of the bar, his hand only pulling away to allow her to slide into the leather seats.

“How was your day today?” He asks as he takes his beside her, too close for comfort and his arm stretches at the back of her seat, his head tilting as he keeps his eyes on her. “Were the people kind? I’d like to hear everything.”

A server then appears in front of them, Daenerys looking up to face the young man when he asks for their orders. She’s not given a menu and it slightly worries her that she would make a fool out of herself if she asks for something they don’t have.

“Whiskey. Neat.” Jorah says, not looking at the boy. “And a sample board if you have it.”

“Uhmm—what do you have?” Daenerys worries her lip, her hands resting on her lap as she plays with the hem of her dress to ease her anxiety.

“You can order anything you want, Ma’am, and we shall make it for you.” The server directs.

“P-Peach Bellini?” She doesn’t even know if she said her order right. But the server just nods and turns away from their table, Daenerys looking down at her hands when her introversion makes another appearance. And she doesn’t even know why she’s being so shy. Why she’s acting as such when she’s just having drinks. Drinks with Jorah. He said she looks alright and there’s no dress code. So, she doesn’t have to worry about sticking like a sore thumb.

And it’s as seem Jorah senses her apprehension, his hand gingerly moving to rest on her shoulder, giving the joint a light squeeze. “Daenerys, relax.” He tuts and she heeds his advice, taking a deep breath to calm herself. “Today is a good day for you. And I only have you for a little while. Don’t you think we should make the most of it?”

She nods and wills herself to smile, a genuine one this time.

And she does end up relaxing; diving back into the smooth conversations she would have with Jorah back then as he tells her of the comings and goings of the company, how he’s implemented a new rule that concerns gossip and other non-business-related conversations that lead employees into the path of unproductivity. While she, in turn, tells him about the company and how she enjoyed every bit of it. How Natasha has been nothing but nice and accommodating to her transition to a new working environment and how Victor—there’s a tick on Jorah’s jaw when she mentions his name—has been helpful in her tasks and that she’s quite thankful that she already knows how to work the software they’ve been using in the firm.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Jorah says as he pops a grape in his mouth, the look he has on when the fruit pushes against his cheek making her giggle.

“I am. And I cannot thank you enough for helping me get this.” She says before sipping her second cocktail.

“Like I said, anything for you, Darling.” He grins and takes a tentative sip of his whiskey, their conversation moving on to how her previous supervisor, Tyrion, was glad that Peggy has been fired from the company.

After three cocktails in, Daenerys starts to worry in her seat, peeking at her phone from time to time as she waits for Jon’s text. It’s already 10 o’clock and they were supposed to meet two hours ago but still, he hasn’t responded to any of her messages.

“Maybe he forgot.” Jorah hums as he finishes his drink, the tumbler making an audible sound as he places it back on the table. “I mean, he did leave you at the party. I wouldn’t trust a man who wouldn’t even think about his woman for even a second.”

The comment takes her back and the easiness she was feeling earlier dissipates. His words are true, yes, but pointing it out further just drives the knife deeper into her heart, that Jon has indeed forgotten their plans for dinner breaks it even more.

She picks up her phone once more and tries to call this time, making several attempts and each one only brings her to voicemail. She sighs, the drink in front of her forgotten as she thumbs through her phone, reading the last message Jon sent to her today.

“I think I’m calling it a night.” Daenerys deflates, fighting the tears that are threatening to fall from her eyes.

How can he forget her so fast when he confirmed that he would show up earlier? They talked about their flaws and had an intense heart-to-heart about his assumed indifference in her life. And he promised he would change. Promised her that he would be more present, more available, and give her the emotional satisfaction she desperately needs. But now it feels like all that talk has fallen on deaf ears and that Jon has rolled back into his usual self.

“Let me take you home.” Jorah offers as he stands from his seat, offering his hand to her which she takes.

“That’s alright.” Daenerys sighs. “I can grab an Uber from here.”

“Please. I insist.” Jorah pushes, his hand resting on her arm, the sudden touch making her flinch. “You’re obviously in distress and I wouldn’t trust a stranger taking you home.” He adds. “Please, it will bring me peace to know that you arrive home safely.”

With Jon being MIA once more and knowing that Jorah doesn’t take lightly to answers that involve ‘no’, and frankly, she doesn’t have the energy to argue and with the sadness dominating her senses, she nods, and concedes to his offer, following him out of the bar and back to his car.

She’s quiet for the whole drive, her head leaning against the window as she stares blankly into space. She couldn’t take Jon off her mind and how he flaked on her. Couldn’t accept that their talk from before has all been for nothing.

But she’s pulled away from her reverie when Jorah makes a turn at the right corner. The street and houses looking all too familiar for her not to notice. And when she looks at the GPS on the dashboard, there’s no path he’s following, no destination typed into the console. Her mind going overdrive, fear encasing her as she thinks how Jorah knows where she lives when she didn’t even give him her address.

She sits up and grabs her phone tightly when she sees them stop in front of her building. The lamp posts and the silver moon being the only source of light to illuminate the streets as windows from the surrounding houses and apartments bathe in darkness.

Without saying a word, Jorah gets out of the vehicle as soon as he turns it off, Daenerys watching him stride to her side and open the door for her.

She steps out carefully, her heart pounding in her ribs as she watches him take out her things from the backseat, the flowers being placed in her hands along with her camera bag while he slings her backpack on one shoulder.

“You don’t have to take that.” She says with a forced smile, reaching up for her bag but Jorah’s hand circles around her wrist, stopping her from taking her things and looking at her with seriousness in his eyes.

“Nonsense.” Jorah chuckles, the grin on his lips making her spine shiver with trepidation. “You’re not yet at your door. I wouldn’t want you to break your neck in case you trip on the stair, especially with you carrying all this.”

She swallows thickly and nods at his words that feign concern, agreeing to his request as she walks to the front door, taking her keys out of the pocket of her camera bag, just to appease him and possibly make him leave her alone faster.

Her body goes rigid as they climb the steps of her apartment, Daenerys feeling Jorah’s chest so close to her back making her nervous that she flinches and trip on a step, his hand finding its way to her hip when she tries to right herself.

“See? Good thing I was here.” He laughs.

She laughs back, although in pretense, to not arouse any suspicion that she feels unsafe with how this man is acting. The man she’s come to know for years now. The man she looks up to and has shown his support in her work.

She clutches her keys tight and quickens her pace as she climbs the remainder of the steps, her door coming to view making her feel elated that she will be in a safe space away from this man. Immediately, she fumbles with her keys, and she hiccups when her fingers get all sticky, her eyes blurring as she tries to push the key through the slot.

Yet her attempts are halted when Jorah’s hand comes into view, her keychain snatched from her hand and he inserts the metal instrument through the hole, the knob turning in his grasp after and pushing the door open to her apartment.

“After you,” He hums and Daenerys slips through the threshold, her back facing Jorah and her heart dropping to her stomach when she hears him step inside, the locks on her door snapping into place.

She places the bouquet and her camera bag down on the coffee table, her bag making an audible thud when it hits the floor and Jorah’s footsteps echoing through the living room, filling her ears, making it known to her that he’s walking around her space.

“Quaint.” He remarks. “And cozy.” And Daenerys gathers the courage to face him, her eyes widening in surprise to see Jorah holding the picture frame previously hanging at the side of her door, a picture of her and Jon during their visit to Buckingham Palace.

“I’m home safe.” She speaks all of a sudden, giving Jorah the fakest smile. “You can go now. Jon might come by to check on me.” She rambles as she tries to recall the video she saw in high school when dealing with unwanted visitors. Keep stalling til you find an escape. “He could have just been tied up at work and is probably on his way here—”

“Oh, he’s not coming.” Jorah hums, his eyes still glued to the frame before dropping it on the floor and stepping on it with a loud crunch.

“What—what do you mean?” She asks, feeling her blood run cold at his eerie words.

Jorah then reaches in his pocket to take out his phone, tapping on the screen before holding it out for her to take. “Why don’t you see for yourself.”

Taking the device with shaky hands, she chokes on her breath when she sees the image of Jon slumped on the ground. His eyes closed, his lip and forehead bleeding and a bruise forming on the side of his face. She looks up at Jorah then back at the photo, her muscles tightening as she studies his battered face.

“What did you do?” She gasps, her face red in anger and her eyes brimming with tears. “What the fuck did you do?!”

“Me?” Jorah feigns innocence and plucks the phone from her hands, tucking the device back in his pocket. “I did nothing of the sort. I was with you the whole night, remember? While your boyfriend was absent, like always.” He smirks and picks up another photo of her and Jon, giving it the same treatment as the previous one.

“They’ll find him!” She shouts. “Someone will find him and they will find out what you did to him!”

“Maybe—” Jorah hums and takes a step closer to Daenerys, his eyes turning sinister as he keeps them on her. “Or maybe they won’t. Maybe, they’ll find his body floating in some river and see a man who saw no future after his girlfriend dumped him for another. Decided to drown himself to end his meaningless life.” He chuckles when Daenerys looks at him in horror, the tears spilling down her face as she stares at the man she thought she knew. “The media would sop up that story in a flash, don’t you think?”

Daenerys takes a step back, her body shivering in terror before sprinting to her bedroom. She doesn’t look back when she hears his hurried steps, grabbing onto the knob but yelps when Jorah latches unto her arm.

“Hel—” Her scream gets muffled as Jorah covers her mouth, her eyes blown wide when he pulls her closer to him and sneers in her face.

“Shut up!” He warns and walks them both to her room, kicking the door closed before pushing her to the bed, her back dropping harshly on the mattress.

She pushes her palms against the bed as she tries to lift herself up, her instinct to scream taking over once more but stops when his hand wraps around her neck, his body pressing hard against hers, Daenerys gasping when he tightens his grip.

“Don’t give me a reason to hurt you, Darling.” He growls, Daenerys clawing on his wrist when he adds pressure on his hold.

“Please—” She chokes out.

“You promise?” He hisses and she nods, her eyes shutting tight when she feels the air slowly leave her. “Don’t make me regret it.” A threat and Daenerys gasps deeply, taking lungfuls of air before coughing loudly as she holds her neck, Jorah still atop her with his eyes boring into her.

“Why are you doing this?” She rasps, the tears continuously rolling down her face as Jorah’s hand begins to wander down her thighs, giving it a hard squeeze.

“Because I am better for you.” He says in a serious tone, his nose grazing down her cheek while his hand rides up her dress, a finger slipping through the fabric of her panties and pulling on it to have the elastic snap against her skin. “Because your boyfriend is not the man you’re supposed to be with. Because you’re supposed to be with someone who takes care of you, who supports you, and who loves you.” He whispers, his lips pressing a kiss on her cheek before trailing it down her neck. “And I’m that man.” His tongue then rolls on a patch of skin, Daenerys whimpering while her stomach turns at his words and how her body starts to respond to his touch, feeling her cunt go slick.

“If you love me Jorah, you wouldn’t do this.” She cries, her voice still raw from his previous assault. “Please, just let me go.”

“Oh, but I can’t do that, or else you won’t realize that you need me. That. You. Love. Me.” He says each word in a hushed voice laced with danger, and pulls away from her, dropping down to his knees on the floor of her room as he lifts her dress up and tugs her panties past her legs, pressing the soiled fabric against his nose and hearing him inhale deeply before tucking the undergarments in his pocket.

He pushes her thighs apart and Daenerys gasps when the cool air hits her sensitive cunt, another cry leaving her lips when he runs his tongue against her pussy lips, rolling around her swollen nub. She tries to stop him once more, pushing his head away from her but his large hand takes hold of both hers, locking her in place as he begins to lap his tongue against her folds.

She can’t believe that this is happening. That Jorah who was always kind to her is now doing such sinful things to her. She tries to think of how it started, of what she did to warrant such attention from him. Was it because she always said yes and never once tried to go against what he asked, what he wanted? But she only did it out of courtesy, did it because she didn’t want to offend and wanted to appease. She was a good employee. An obedient one. He said so himself.

But he loves her. He said he loves her. Why would he bestow upon her a nightmare if he loves her?

Her breath suddenly hitches and her muscles stiffen at the sudden intrusion of his digit in her, feeling her pussy suck his finger in as he buries it to the knuckle. And he doesn’t wait for long before thrusting it in and out, his pace quick and relentless, making her arch her back at the overwhelming sensation.

She pants heavily and grits her teeth, her mind going black when he adds a second, then a third, the pain from her walls stretching around his digits digging into her pelvis, making her squirm on the bed.

His lips then round her clit and begin sucking on it like a starved man, no pretense of holding back or slowing down, her core starting to quiver as she feels herself climbing higher into ecstasy. The tears on her face have long since dried and she feels shame wash over her as her body sing and delights from his torturous touch.

“That’s it, Baby,” Jorah coaxes against her cunt. “I can feel you close.”

She tries not to give in. Tries her best not to give him the satisfaction of succumbing to his ministrations. But she can’t fight her body, can’t fight her sense. Her heels digging into the mattress when he adds pressure on her clit, his tongue frantic as his fingers move faster and harder, thrusting deeper inside of her, the sound of her cunt squelching and his hums of pleasure filling her ears.

Her hands are then released from his hold and his thumb replaces his mouth on her swollen bud as he moves up and trails kisses on her pelvis, his body pressing against hers when he sees his face next to hers, the blues of his eyes almost gone as his pupils blown wide in evident arousal and his nose grazing down her cheek as he keeps up the movement of his hand.

“Cum for me, Baby.” He groans and as if his voice triggers something in her, she combusts with a loud cry, her head lolling on the mattress and her eyes rolling back as her release grips her senses.

A whine then leaves her lips when Jorah continues to rub her still, his fingers easing her from her high before he pulls his fingers out, feeling her pussy clench from the loss. She tries to regulate her breathing, to steady her erratic heart, and when she opens her eyes, she sees Jorah staring at her, his lips wrapping around his digits as he licks them clean of her essence.

“God, you taste divine, Darling.” Jorah groans as he pulls his hand away, Daenerys seeing his beard glistening with her unwelcomed arousal. “Turn over.” He commands after, his hand slapping her still sensitive thigh hard, Daenerys pushing herself to do his bidding, for she could tell he was still holding back. She winces to think what that hand would do if she dares to disobey.

“Take everything off.” The power in his voice shakes her to the core, immediately working to undo the belt then the buttons of her dress, dropping the fabric to her waist and stopping when only her bra is left to keep her dignity. “I said everything.” His command comes once more, this time with a bite, and with shaky hands she reaches from behind, sobbing as she unclasps the hooks of her bra from behind, Jorah’s hands reaching over to slide the straps off her arms and letting the article drop on the bed.

He pushes her down on the mattress, her chest pressed down while her ass hangs in the air on display for him. The telltale sound of his pants unzipping and the rustle of cotton and denim fill the quiet, the thud of shoes and the clang of his belt buckle coming after.

“Keep those hands where I can see them, Darling.” He warns as he grabs her waist, her heart constricting when she feels the tip of his cock brushing again her soaking cunt.

A soft cry of ‘no’ leaves her lips as he pushes through her folds, her hands clutching tightly on the duvet on her bed as he continues to drive himself in inch by inch, his groans of pleasure then a growl echoes through the room when he bottoms out.

He pulls back slowly, leaving only the head before plunging himself back inside, a garbled cry escaping her lips as he begins to fuck her hard, his pace unforgiving and reckless.

“Please—” Her cries turn into moans as she reaches back, pressing her hand against Jorah’s strong thigh. “It hurts—”

“Take it, Baby, you can do it.” Jorah growls and slaps her hand away. “Don’t you feel how your sweet little cunt wants me?” He says in between pants, his fingers digging into her flesh, feeling herself bruise underneath his touch while his cock thrusts harder and harder, the bed creaking underneath, threatening to break from his frenzied movements.

She lets out a loud yelp when he suddenly grabs her by the hair, her back arching as he pulls her up and holds her against him, her back pressing against his solid chest and feeling his chest hair rub against her skin while his hand makes its way back around her neck.

“You. Are. Mine.” He says between each thrust, the sound of their skin slapping against each other mixing with their hurried breathing driving her closer to her limit once more.

“Tell me you’re mine!” He demands, and Daenerys grunts as his hand tightens around her throat when she refuses to give in to his bidding. “Tell me!” He growls even louder, snapping his hips in a merciless rhythm, making her body quiver both in fear and pleasure.

“I’m yours! Please, Jorah—I’m yours!” She cries, her hand reaching up to grab his arm, her legs shaking as she feels the familiar pull at the core of her belly once more.

“Yes— Yesss!” Jorah exclaims and curses a loud fuck! in the air as his pelvis quickens in pace before giving one final thrust and stilling, his cock buried deep inside of Daenerys’ cunt and spilling in his desire, white ropes coating her walls. The act itself triggers her climax once again, making her body spasm against his at her release, her chest heaving as Jorah continues to thrust his hips, riding out his climax along with hers.

Daenerys feels breathless and used, her body being laid down on the bed and a whimper escaping her throat when Jorah pulls out, feeling his essence drip down her thighs, leaving her hollow and spent, her cunt raw and clenching from the loss of his cock and her body shivering when he presses his lips on the base of her nape, slowly trailing them down her back and stopping at the dip before her ass.

“Such a good girl.” Jorah praises and runs a hand up her side, whispering once more against her shoulder, a shiver from both his menacing voice and fear running up her spine. “ My good girl.”

The black barrier with a crest of a bear stares back at her as she stands in front of the door. It’s Jorah’s place. A house built away from the city and near the boundaries of the country. It’s where she will be living as per Jorah, telling her to pack her things after that night. He’s even struck a deal with Petyr, the man agreeing that she’s to transition working from home, even giving her the position at his firm completely only after a few days of her internship.

Daenerys doesn’t hear from Jon again after that night. No calls, no messages, making her fear that Jorah has made true to his threat. She cannot even try and contact him herself as Jorah took away her phone and replaced it with a new one. One he can track her with, one he threatened her into believing that any calls made outside of work would only make her suffer. And that he was listening and watching, always.

Jorah opens the door and nudges her in, her camera hanging around her neck, a reminder of his cruelty and deceit, and her luggage that contains everything she owns in Jorah’s hand. She thinks about where things have started to go out of hand, and what she did for her to end up in such an ordeal but stops her thoughts altogether for she knows there is no answer to her questions. That with Jorah, her life is better by not having questions at all.

She flinches when the door shuts with a snap, Jorah taking her hand and walking her up the staircase that’s decorated in modern architecture. That if the circumstances we different, she would take the time to appreciate its beauty, along with the decor of the house. But she can’t bring herself to do so as fear completely takes over her being, a constant presence in the company of this man.

She follows him through the hallway, various doors closed for her to see, her eyes firmly ahead as she stops in front of a closed door at the end. Jorah’s room, she assumes as he reaches over and pushes it open, revealing a neatly made king-size bed, walls of gray and white, and a closet full of suits hanging neatly beside an ensuite.

She looks around, trying to see even the smallest shred of the man she used to know when she stands frozen by the bed, blood running cold as her eyes stare at a grey wall, bare of any furniture aside from multiple photos. Photos of her. In various places. Her profile staring back at her wearing the outfit she vaguely remembers as the one she wore when she first joined his company. Another of her half naked at her apartment window. Another leaving the cafe she frequented in her lunch breaks and a big one where she’s smiling happily into the camera, one she remembers being taken on her first date with Jon, a big red X over his face.

“Y-You’ve been w-watching me?” She stutters.

And Jorah moves to block her vision, her eyes looking up to meet his, a devious smirk on his lips when he says, “I knew you were mine the moment I saw you.”

She shivers when he presses his lips against her lips, his hand holding her down by the shoulder and she knows that there will be no escaping this man. That he’s got what he wanted and he would stop at nothing to keep it.

#jorah mormont #daenerys targaryen #ser jorah mormont #jorah x daenerys #jorah x dany #jorleesi #dark fic #dark jorah #game of thrones #Jorleesi AU #jorleesi fanfiction #jorleesi fanfic #coconut bun stories #game of thrones au

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recklxssabandon · 2 years

Text

Thread of Longing//Kulani&(Him)

(Mild NSFW below cut)

The Red House was hewn from the rock of the tallest mountain on the southern hemisphere of S’ruthan Liar. Mount Ai. The interior of the palace itself could only be reached by traversing the ancient and labyrinthine halls that had been constructed by the first emperors and their builders. The builders had been sounders – a very specific application of the S’ruthan gift of foresight, or ‘reach’ as the people sometimes called it; they could lay their hands or tools on a wall of rock, and know all of its secrets.

Kulani Kerai, The Great Seer, The Lone Empress, The Witch of the Mountain as some now called her in the north, stood at her balcony and thought about secrets. Her long pale fingers traced the stone of the broad railing and she closed her eyes, absorbing the warmth of the rock. How strange to think a secret was a human thing, everything held secrets. Behind everything, there was more.

Her lips parted and she opened her eyes, sending her gaze out over the heathland of white blossom trees and heather that extended from the The Red House to the narrow pass between the Ai’ture mountain range. It was not quite enough. She reached out in a gesture of bargaining with the universe, out toward the great landmasses. The arid breeze lifted her white hair slightly from her shoulders.

A sigh of relief pressed itself out of her chest. Yes, there he was. He, among others that had been sent to ascertain the nature of the uprising in the north. Kulani stood that way for several minutes, letting the thread of his essence coil gradually like a spool of delicate thread back into her chest. Her eyelids fluttered. His was only a short reconnaissance mission, no military action was yet to be taken. But she would do this every morning for the next ten days, or until he returned.

A synthetic chime sounding through her chambers broke her concentration, she sighed and withdrew her hand, pacing barefoot into the solar.

“Enter.” She uttered.

A door hissed open hydraulically and Evun, her advisor on affairs of state stepped into the room. He bowed low at the waist.

“Peace to the Great Seer.”

Her fingers fluttered to signal him to stand straight.

“There’s news from Dagilach your Highness. The Empress Orlain has been detained. They say she is to be sentenced to death.”

Kulani drifted to the small natural spring that trickled down the side of the rock and parted the solar like a miniature stream. She placed her hands in the sweet water and swept them over her face. Drops fell from her nose and chin and soaked into the white robe that tied at her waist.

“The Dagal Empire will not be finished until it has killed every woman on its world, I fear. I appreciate being informed, but there’s little we can do. What of the reconnaissance?” There was a tinge of impatience in her voice.

Evun nodded. “The drones are picking up a large military force massing in the Drey City. We don’t know the identity of the leader as yet, he does not seem to show himself. But rumours are he is of mixed S’ruthan and Dagal extraction. He tells the people the old ways are dead.”

A mirthless exhalation left Kulani. “Perhaps those two pieces of news nest into one another more than I expected.” She placed her hand on the wall of the spring and let the water flow over it, absorbing its song. “For now we continue to watch. But we need to find this man, this would-be emperor.” She paused.

“And the men sent ahead? Before the drones?”

“They were undetected, and will be back two days earlier than expected your highness.”

Kulani felt her old heart lift in her chest. The water ran over the back of her hand, rivulets tracing her arm and wetting her sleeve.

I miss you. She spoke with her fingertips into the water.

“That’s some good news at least.” She replied, more lightly. “Please inform me of their movements, kindly, leave me be for now.”

Evun bowed low again and turned to leave. The door hissing shut behind him once again. The quiet of the wind at the balcony and the soft trickle of water suffused the room once more. The Empress pulled her hand from the water and parting her robe at the collar drew a circular rune on the skin of her breastbone, pressed her hand to it; a silent prayer for the Lady of Dagilach. She had never actually visited her sister world. Her mother, the previous Great Seer had warned her away before her death.

‘Don’t ever set foot on that land. Not while the palaces stand. Malice flows through the earth like water through ours. Maybe one day, when the ruins are reclaimed by the vines.’

Kulani stepped softly over the stream and walked through the solar to her bedchamber. A platform of soft green silk and pillows, these recent days she had found herself falling asleep on the stone floor by the water. Her knees and shoulder had the yellow bruises to show it. The earth was starting to speak, even if in only a faltering whisper, she was trying to hear the words.

The silk felt altogether too soft beneath her skin. She sprawled face down on the bed, one knee hitching up, her fingers sliding over her head to brush against the exquisitely carved wall at the head of the bed. She could recall the smell of him standing close to her in the briefing rooms, in the hearing chamber. He was always close by and yet just too far away. She had taken to reaching out for him, letting that intangible coil of thread flow from herself into him. He could feel it, but so far he had said nothing.

She was without a consort or heirs. This had not always been the way in her family, but she had taken the decision even before her coronation; under her rule there would be no kings on S’ruthan Liar, and the next ruler would be chosen, not born. But that could be a hundred years from now, perhaps more. Her people were known for their longevity, and traditionally her mother’s line had seen their four hundredth year.

It was going to be a very long life. Or, if this ‘Dagal Emperor’ had anything to do with it, a short life. Either way she was running out of time.

Her ribs felt heavy as she breathed into the silk, turning her cheek to rest against it. Her hands opened out and slid down over the silk like a breast stroke through water and hitched her gown up around her hips.

Shortly before he’d left she’d seen him and two of his lieutenants in the briefing room. She’d unravelled herself toward him as the other men laid out the maps and discussed the method of approach. But this time he’d looked to her, his gaze pinioning her. It froze her in place. His own reach pressed into the small of her back. There was a heat in it. When he blinked the other men were talking about squadrons and she was back in the room again.

Her hand flexed around to press into the small of her back, the other moving beneath her to the heat between her legs. When her mouth gaped, fishlike, as though starving for air his face flared in her mind. A brilliant star, it engulfed her and she forgot the boundaries of her body.

Only then did she speak his name, quietly, like a holy word.

#This might be bad but its my first try #I'm actually a little proud of it #please be gentle with me #kulani #kulanific

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in-a-nook-with-a-notebook · 1 year

Text

Welcome to Lakewood Prep

Lakewood Prologue

Series: Lakewood (in progress)

A/N: Hi! This is the beginning of what might become an original series. I dunno if anyone can tell but this scene was definitely inspired by the first episode of Wednesday, but I promise the plot is different and I have no intention of copying the show. I was in the mood to make an unhinged character, so meet Jake Jackson!

Word Count: 1138

Warnings: swearing, sw!tchblade, I think that's it?

Summary: No one wants to be the new kid, except maybe Jake Jackson. He loves terrifying anyone new who tries to get close to him. After too many "mistakes" made at his old school, his parents send him to Lakewood Preparatory School to learn some discipline, and Jake is ready for some new victims. That is, until Jake met them. Can a friend group and a crush really change a person? And more importantly, can they get to the bottom of an age-old mystery about Jake's new homestead?

————————

No one likes a new school. Well, no one sane does. Who would want a new start like that? Well, who other than me?

My older brother, Tyler, is driving, with Peyton, Rowan and Darcy next to them – it's a big seat. I’m in the back with the rest of my family. In the entire close Jackson family order of oldest to youngest: Teddie (my father), Skye (my mother), Tyler (oldest brother), Charlie (sibling), Haiden and Quinn (twin siblings), me, Peyton (oldest of my younger siblings, sister), Rowan (sister), and Darcy (youngest sister). Age wise, in order, that would be 49, 46, 22, 20, 19 and 19, 17, 15, 12, and 9.

Yeah. Big family. Imagine how I feel as one of the middle children, prodigies younger and older than me. I hope you don’t think that means I’m referring to myself as ordinary. Gods, no. However, I’m the biggest... problem child, you could say.

“This place will be good for you, son,” Father says absently, most of his attention fixed on Mother, as usual.

“No, it won’t,” I retort. “You know it won’t.”

I’m in the very backseat on the right-hand side; my place. Always my place. The twins are in the other two seats beside me. In the row in front of us, Mother and Father next to each other with poor Charlie on the far left. They’re as uncomfortable in the dealings of Mother and Father’s... affections as most of the rest of us. And then, yes, Tyler, Peyton, Rowan and Darcey are crammed into the front.

“You’re being rude, dear, you haven’t even given it a chance,” Mother says.

“I am giving it a chance. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Son, this is a highly regarded school and it’s important that you take this seriously,” Father states. “I do hope that the word ‘seriously’ is in your vocabulary.”

I scoff, staring out the window as we drive through the dreary weather. One of my favourite weathers. It matches whatever I imagine my soul looks like.

I’m not dreading the idea of attending a new school, that’s not it. But how am I supposed to function in a civilized society? I’ve never attended one of those. Even home life is a little off compared to whatever “normal” must mean. I’m not even saying that because of the eight kids. It’s the everything else.

“Remind me again why I’m being sent here.” I dig through my backpack in search of my switchblade. I notice Quinn and Haiden roll their eyes at me. I flip it open, then close it. Flip. Close. Flip. Close. Over and over. And over again.

“Because you’re a hazard to society,” Tyler says from the front seat.

“Wrong answer, brother mine, but thanks for playing,” I drone. The car turns left. I stare out the window. “I know why I’m being sent, but I want to hear the sugar-coated version so as to dissect it.” Flip. Close.

“Dissect it, love?” Mother inquires.

“Oh, please, Mother, don’t pretend. Lying is rather unbecoming for you, honest woman such as yourself. I’m being sent there because you couldn’t find anywhere else that could deal with me, so you found the most penitentiary-like education system for me to graduate from; this is a prison sentence.”

“Honey-”

“You know I’m right.” Flip. Close.

“You’re wrong, son,” Father interjects, finally taking his attention away from Mother.

“Oh? Do enlighten me with whatever lie you’ve cooked up for my ‘benefit’, please.”

“You’re going there to learn how to control yourself. To learn discipline and to find your true potential. You can’t go around being the way you are without the consequences, and you need to understand that.”

I hum a little. “Less sugar-coated than I thought.” Flip. Close.

“What is it with you and that stupid switchblade?” Charlie asks from the seat up front.

“Keep asking and you’ll find yourself on the other end of it.”

“You can’t hurt me in any way that matters.”

“I can try.”

Charlie barks out a laugh and continues reading his book, whatever it is he’s reading. Flip. Close. I look out the window.

“So, I don’t have any say in going?” I ask.

“No,” both parents say definitively.

“Well, I am positively thrilled to be joining this snobbish society.” Flip. Close.

“What’s it called, again?” Peyton asks from the front seat.

“Lakewood Preparatory School,” Mother says. “The ideal place for young men, women and others to learn their place in society and how to handle it.”

“You sound like the welcome pamphlet,” I mutter. “Is there a uniform?”

“Yes.”

“You’re joking.”

“No.”

“Fuck,” I groan, leaning my head back. Flip. Close.

“Well, hey,” Rowan says, “maybe then you’ll actually gain a sense of style and class.” She turns her head to smirk at me from the front. I glare at her.

“Bite me.”

The car turns right. Flip. Close. “How much longer?” Darcy moans dramatically.

“We’re almost there now, my darlings,” Mother says, addressing all of us. “You know, I was hoping to send Tyler, Charlie and the twins to Lakewood Prep but they were better suited for Oakland Coast.”

“A school from which you so rudely pulled me out of.”

“Are we going to end up there, Mother?” Rowan questions. “Peyton and Darcy and I?”

“Not unless necessary, dear. If you must be switched out of Granite Bay Conservatory, we’ll likely send you to Silverleaf Academy.”

“Is this the way in, Father?” Tyler says from the front.

“Yes, son.”

“Ah, yes, the gateway to hell,” I mumble. Flip. Close. I put the blade in my backpack. We wouldn’t want that in the wrong hands, would we? “Why did the entire family have to come?”

“This is a big moment for you,” Tyler says flatly. “We wanted to send you to hell ourselves, wanted to be involved.”

“Oh, put a sock in it, Ty, you wanted to see me out of the house.”

“You are a general torment.”

“And you’re a pain in my ass.”

“Boys, behave,” Mother says, caught up in being... affectionate with Father again. Barf. Tyler pulls up the driveway and stops at the front doors.

“Well, brother...” Tyler trails off. “Bye. Nice knowing you. See you never.”

“Fuck you.”

“Jake, honey, let’s go, shall we?” Mother suggests. I don’t reply verbally, merely hauling my backpack over the back of the seat and dropping it in the trunk. I climb over as well and leave the car through the trunk, since it’s the usual way I leave. I sling my bag over my shoulder and take my other two bags as well, the ones that were in the trunk already.

I rest one bag on the ground to slam the door of the trunk shut. Picking it up again, I dutifully follow my parents up the front staircase of Lakewood Prep.

————————

If you got this far, thanks for reading! Lmk what you think, feedback is encouraged and appreciated! Have a lovely day!

#original content #writeblr #original chracter #original series #Lakewood Prep School

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the-letter-horror-lover · 2 years

Text

The walk to Religion was filled with uncomfortable silence. When the female trio caught up with Ciel, it became obvious he was deep in thought. And any attempts to initiate conversation, as Eleanora found out, was futile.

And so, the girls led the way to the chapel, casting concerned glances to each other as Ciel lagged.

“What's up with him, you think?”, Eleanora asked.

“Dunno, but he better snap out of it quickly - you do not want to be zoning out in religion”, Felicia deadpanned.

“I mean, if it's about detention, it's as if he’s never seen someone faint before.”

They all stopped, and twisted back to face Ciel, whose head was down.

“Has he?!”, they wondered.

The Chapel was extravagant, to say the least. Built out of gorgeous sandstone and marble, it was adorned with stained glass representations of the Stations of the Cross. A high ceiling, and rows upon rows of sleek pews led to a cream altar, adorned with the school logo.

The downside though, was the crappy acoustics.

Their teacher, Ms Annafellows, was a stunning woman. We all know what she looks like. Anyway, her face screamed apathy. Her one standout feature though, was the white bandage wrapped around one eye. They thought it was funny how similar she seemed to Ciel.

Ms Annafellows waited until everyone entered the room before droning on about Christianity - like anyone cared.

Ele and Valentino were sitting in the front row, laughing and sitting together like they had something to hide. Eleanora ran up to them and skilfully squished herself between the sickening love birds.

Hey guys! How was lunch without us?”

“Oh! Well-”

Rianne sat next to Valentino, as Ciel joined her, “don’t answer that, we have news!”

“No we do not! We were told not to tell!”, Ciel protested.

Felicia scoffed from Ele’s other side, “oh please, the rest of the school probably already knows by now.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

“So! Basically, this girl - she’d be...what year 11? Anyway, she looked really bad, and asked to go to the bathroom - “

“But Mr. I-dont-like-you said no so she tried to get up and leave-”

“But she just collapsed in the doorway! And then Mr Michaelis sent us away!”

Valentino was lost in thought - Ele smiled at the cute way his eyebrows scrunched up when he was being serious.

“Well, it’s not uncommon for seniors to faint here, you know. Last I heard, everyone was saying it’s all the stress of not wanting to fail the final exams.” she said.

Ciel leaned closer, on the edge of the pew as he tried to hear over the crappy acoustics.

“Do they really faint often? I mean - I - surely this isn’t a regular happening?” he questioned.

“Weeelll….when I started here I saw two people being taken away on those wheelie bed things. A boy and girl.”

Felicia piped up, “yeah I remember that! But ever since then, it’s only ever been girls...I guess that is a bit weird.”

Ciel stayed silent, eyes now intensely focused on Ms Annafellows, almost as if he was willing himself to tune out.

Valentino finally joined in, having reached a conclusion to his inner musings.

“Well, have you ever heard of the ghost of Princess Euphie? The legend goes that she was a Princess from a foreign land, and built the school for war orphans. But when the school was first established, she went insane and attacked all the girls. She was shot dead and buried right. Under. Our. Feet.”

Valentino finally noticed the Chapel was silent, everyone - including the teacher - had stopped to listen to the tale. His face went red, and hid in Ele’s shoulder.

“Anyway the point is her ghost still haunts the school, and likes to curse female students, which is why so many are fainting.” Rianne finished.

“How could someone be cursed by a ghost? They don’t even exist. Don’t be stupid.” Ciel retorted.

Eleanora giggled as Ciel’s frustrations became worse, his eye twitching in anger.

“Would it kill you to shut up and - “

The double doors violently swung open - smashing the walls with a startling boom.

The entire class jumped in surprise (many screamed), and turned to watch the person flauntingly make his way to the altar, where Ms Annafellows, Felicia noticed, sneakily took a nervous step back.

He reached the front, and pivoted gracefully on one foot. Hands on his hips, he was handsome; with blonde hair and striking blue eyes, but the cruel curve of his mouth, and a sinister glint in his eye couldn’t help but taint his beauty.

Without waiting for Ms Annafellows to step up and speak, his commanding and dainty voice boomed across the walls.

“Hellooooo~ You may call me Alois Trancy. I’m the new student!” he finished with a wink and a sneaky poking of the tongue. Beside Rianne, Ciel pulled a face of disgust.

“What, didn’t make a good first impression on you, did he?” she teased.

“You have no idea.” Ciel replied.

Alois seemed to naturally take control of the Chapel, taking his time in inspecting everyone’s uncomfortable faces as he decided where to sit. Once he reached the squad’s row, his smug smile widened. Ciel however, was finally using his height to his advantage, curling in on himself in an attempt to hide behind Rianne’s larger frame.

Nice try, but to no avail.

Alois ignored Ciel, but stared at Rianne in curiosity, before skipping over Valentino. He scrutinized Eleanora for a bit before barely acknowledging Ele.

Then his eyes met Felicia’s.

For whatever reason, in their silent showdown, an agreement was met. Alois waltzed down to drop himself right next to Felicia. It seemed he didn’t care for personal space. It also seemed that Felicia didn’t mind either.

As everyone continued to ogle the unofficial new member of the squad, Ms Annafellows finally snapped out of her stupor, and continued to teach the lesson over the echoed chatter of the uncontrolled students. She didn’t seem to care.

While the rest of the squad chatted about everything and nothing - with Ciel cutting in occasionally - Alois dragged Felicia to the pew behind them.

He grasped her soft baby hands and leaned in close - Felicia slowly pulled her face away, as they stared deep into each other's eyes. His lips parted, as he whispered -

“What do you know about Ciel?”

Felicia blinked, and looked away as she tried to understand what just happened.

“Uhh not much. Besides, I barely know you.”

Alois’s bright face flickered briefly to something much darker, but his smiled returned as he squeezed Felicia’s hands tighter.

“Oh! Well, let’s be best friends! What’s your name?”

“...Felicia.”

He giggled, and gave a breath-taking grin.

“Well, now that we’re best friends, we are going to do EVERYTHING together!”

“But - my friends -”

“What? Do you like Ciel more?”

She shifted uncomfortably, and glanced back to her friends, all squashed and giggly. The more she stared, the more she felt like she needed to prove something - they were all having a great time without her, no one has questioned her absence. Perhaps sticking with Alois wouldn’t be as bad as her brain was telling her it would be. He was lonely, in need of a friend.

She smiled sweetly.

“Of course you’re good enough, Alois. I’m not going anywhere.”

BONUS:

<Ele’s phone>

Val: hey el did we have religion homework??

Ele: idk i wasn’t listening!

Ele: if you really wanna know ask rianne. she’s always on top of that stuff lol

Val: yeah i guess haha

Val: actually i want to ask something

Val: what do you think about the new guy, Ciel?

Val: he seems pretty cool, if a bit outdated.

Ele: and grumpy omg

Ele: just like rianne

Val: you’re so mean i love it <3

Val: i can’t stop thinking about you…and that chat…

Ele: <333

Ele: i’m ready when you are Val

Val: i was born ready Ele

Val: how about next week? don’t forget anything

Ele: your place?

Val: yep! and no one can know ok?

Ele: i won’t tell, promise~

Val: i can’t wait for our little fun~

Chapter 6: Ice

Notes:

Thank you Guest Writer and Amazing Editor for your amazing chapter~~~~!!!

It was so dramatic~

Now that I’ve had a break, it’s time for the next chapter! What will happen now~?

Stay tuned to find out...I guess?

~~~~Author-Chan

Chapter Text

As previously mentioned way back when (chapter one), St Euphemia’s Secondary School was one of the most prestigious and expensive schools in the country. As a result, students applied from all over the country (even overseas) just for the chance to attain one of the most recognized school certificates of completion.

This also lead to many students being unable to return home every day. And so, in 1955, four dormitories were constructed, and then renovated every fifteen years, until our students came to the school.

The dorm blocks were situated on the southern part of campus surrounded by weeping willows and rose gardens. The blocks themselves were beautifully renovated from the last series of improvements, so much so that our group had very little to complain about. The dorms could fit up to fifty four students (exactly) per block, and were split between boys and girls.

Our female part of the squad were lucky enough to be roomed together: Rianne, Ele, Eleanora and Felicia shared a large room, built for five students, but held only four. As a result, they had more than enough room to spread out, the last bed being used as a guest bed, or a place to store junk (like last month’s biology project). Their room had three bunk beds and small desks for each student. The bathroom was something out of a four star hotel brochure, complete with a bath and shower, underfloor heating, and a toilet that could play K-Pop as you went about your business. All in all, staying at the school wasn’t a problem, however, attending the school was.

We now return to our group performing their daily duties, consisting of finish all of maths for the next two weeks (“Hey, we could just daydream in class if we finish it all, sir said he wasn’t checking…”) and Mr Michaelis’ unrealistic homework (“I swear, that man is a demon!”).

“Hey,” announced Ele, her maths book perched within her palm. “I need to go see Seiko.”

Seiko was one of the smartest girls (when it came to math), and looked every inch a scholar. From her bushy brown hair to her knee high socks, she always put off an air of intelligence.

“Why?” Asked Rianne, curiosity crawling into her voice.

“Why?” Ele replied, offended. “Cos’ I need maths tutoring!” Her voice reached a high pitch in accordance with her annoyance. “Besides, I don’t need your permission to go anywhere!”

“Then why’d you ask?” Eleanora pointed out.

“Common courtesy! I didn’t think you would treat me like some dumbass ten year old though!”

Guilt thrummed through the group like a vaccine.

“Sorry,” mumbled Eleanora. “We’re just worried, you know.”

Ele sighed as she slung a small bag over her shoulder. “I’m going now.”

“Kay!” Smiled Eleanora, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere which had seemed to envelope the room. “See you at dinner!”

“Yep,” agreed Ele, before leaving.

The room sat in silence, a rift seemed to have drifted into their relationship.

“So, how did ya’ll find religion?” Asked Eleanora, a simpleton who was unused to awkward silence.

“Boring,” droned Rianne, Felicia remaining mute. “The most exciting thing was the new student.”

Felicia perked up.

“Just for your ears only,” began Rianne, a sign that this was a conversation bordering on a private confession, “I didn’t like the new guy. He’s a little….I don’t know, off? He seemed, a little weird and a bit...strange.”

“What do you mean?” Asked Felicia, tight lines chiseled upon her soft cheeks.

“I mean that I don’t like him.”

The room plunged ten degrees.

“So, what do you think we’ll have for dinner tonight?” Eleanora pressed, loud and nervous. She had never seen her two friends so bitter, ready to fight. For her, this was strange - they were a tight knit group - weirdos-in-arms, THE squad. First Ele, now Rianne and Felicia.

Felicia and Rianne continued, giving her no sign that they even heard her topic-changing tactic.

“You don’t even know him,” rebuked Felicia. “Talk to him first, then make that kind of comment.”

“Don’t have to.” Rianne replied, holding her ground. “I am an excellent judge of character. Plus,” continued Rianne, “Why were you hanging out with him during religion, acting all ‘buddy buddy?”’

Felicia gritted her teeth. “Don’t pull that on me! You and Ciel literally just met at the start of the day, and you’re acting all ‘buddy buddy’ with him!”

“So were you!” rebutted Rianne.

“I’m not talking about this right now,” growled Felicia. “I’m out!”

She stood up, and exited the room.

“I don’t like this,” mumbled Eleanora. For her, this was her family. “Maybe, we should all just apologise to each other.”

I hope so, anyway.

——

By nature, Felicia was a mild mannered person. Yes, she may have gotten mad at people eating yogurt (or custard) and felt slightly disgruntled when Eleanora said ‘catacomb’ when she meant ‘catatonic’, but that was beside the point.

She was naturally a kind, patient person. But one of the main things she just couldn’t stand was ill-conceived judgements, especially on a person she considered a friend (a barely known friends, but whatevs).

Following the gossip vine, Felicia discovered the whereabouts of Alois, and decided to pay him a visit (after all, she wanted company, but Ele was busy, she couldn’t find Valentino and she didn’t want to be in the same room as Rianne just yet). So, after wandering through the boy’s dorms, she came to the desired room, number 66, and knocked.

She didn’t really know what to expect, but the sounds of crashing glass and snapping plastic certainly weren’t it.

The door swung violently open, and standing in the doorway like a puffed up flamingo was Alois Trancy in all his booty-shorts glory. He visibly brightened even more at the sight of Felicia, and moved to give her room to enter.

“Well, if it isn’t my new friend!” He proclaimed for all to hear (even though there was no one there). “Come in!”

Felicia obliged, happy to be welcomed.

“What brings you here?” He continued, genuine curiosity shimmering in his crazed blue eyes.

Felicia remembered the tiny spat, and could not help the bitterness that permeated her voice. “I had a bit of an argument with Rianne.”

Alois looked horrified. “Really? That can’t be true, why...I heard that you and Rianne were closer than spiders on a cobweb.”

What a weird metaphor to use. She thought.

“Yeah,” she supplied. “Can you believe, she thought that you were...strange.”

Alois’ eyes glinted dangerously, sharp like a knife’s edge. Felicia suppressed a shiver. But like the passing wind, the crazed shimmer was gone replaced by a closed-eye smile.

“Is that why you were fighting?”

Felicia scoffed. “She didn’t want to try to know you before she made a judgement. Not to mention she’s angry at me for being friends with you right off that bat, when she too, became BFF’s with Ciel straight after he was introduced.”

A strange smile spread across his round face. “Do you think that, Felicia~?”

His voice shook and trembled, croaky at the edges. Felicia could tell it was strained, like he was trying to keep a monster contained within himself.

“No. In fact, I’m angry she thinks that, and that she refuses to consider another stance just because it could prove her wrong.”

Alois seemed happy with that response. He quickly scanned the empty room, as if looking for a spy-hole or oddly placed microphone.

“Felicia, since you really are my best friend, let me tell you a little secret~”

Felicia listened in a little more closely (also helped that he leaned down to her ear, his warm breath tickling her lobe).

“Your friends have been brainwashed.” He giggled, a sound like nails scraping against her ear drums.

“Ciel,” he spat with barely contained loathing, “is evil. He wants - no - demands control. He wants to control your friends.”

Felicia’s breath hitched.

“I’m trying to save your friendship. Ciel is a worm. He burrows his way into people’s lives and steals their free will - your friends are slaves to that parasite.”

Felicia couldn’t understand that. Sure, Rianne was stubborn, and Eleanora naive, but never stupid enough to fall for something like that.

“How?”, she asked.

“Easy.” Alois replied slowly. “He takes the place of another friend, someone the rest of the pack considers to be...expendable.”

Now Felicia couldn't believe that. She and her friends had been together since they started, and had stood beside one another during thick and thin. They were towering palm trees in a hurricane - no matter how brilliant a new student was, they could never replace her - an original member of the squad.

Alois seemed to sense the internal struggle, and his large orbs narrowed.

“You know why I’m telling you this?” He asked.

Felicia shook her head.

“Because the last school Ciel transferred to, was mine.”

Felicia was rapt, she paid him more attention, silencing her inner voice.

“I was the person he replaced in my friendship group, and I had to watch as all the people who had called me their best friend simply left me behind.” His voice rose in pitch as he continued, “They threw me away like a bag of garbage - and for what? So that that high and mighty Ciel could claim his rightful throne and dominion over my friends!!”

Felicia could feel herself shrink away from his shriek of rage.

“Listen to me Felicia!” He cried, “Ciel is using your friends, he is a tapeworm, he will feed off them till they are of no use to him, then toss them away!”

Felicia felt her stomach drop.

“How do I stop it?” She couldn’t keep her fear out of her voice.

Alois smirked knowingly. “You, my dear, I have decided to help you. Now that you know what he is planning, we can stop him, and you can have your friends back.”

He held his dainty hand for her to grab.

“Be my right hand, and I will free your friends. Trust me - I will not betray you.”

She gripped his hand like it was a lifeline.

For my friends!

BONUS:

“I also have cookies~~!”

“Count me in!” She gripped his hand tighter.

Somewhere in the school (probably with Sebastian), Ciel sneezed.

Chapter 7: Camping

Chapter Text

My reflection diary - 18/2

Okay, it’s the first day of Jesus - I mean, St Em’s grade reflection camp, and we have to keep a diary (well, i’m the only one that’s bothering…).

Anyways, we started out by catching a coach and driving for about, 3 hours? Seriously, who’s idea was it to cram 120 students onto two buses for 3 hours? Don’t know, but I’ll sue them when i find them.

So, we had Rianne and Ciel sitting together (so cute! ><), Felicia and Alois were together (they’d been together a lot recently…) Ele and Val (*love is in the air!*) and...I was rather lonely by myself.

But, we got there in one piece (haha, pun!) and then we went through the motions of collecting luggage and claiming a tent (we picked the closest to the mess hall/tent, whatever). In my tent we have: me (obviously), Rianne, Felicia, Ele, Val, Ciel and...Alois. Geez, a recipe for disaster.

After setting up our shit, we got time to explore. We went as a group because Mr Faustus was there, and there’s safety in numbers. Can you believe, the camp is surrounded by 360 degrees of thick ass woodland? We kinda stopped when Ele said that she saw a snake.

Then we had some dinner, and had spiritual reflection (where I wrote this diary). Lol, we’re doing some meditation now, so I gotta go, I will continue this later….

Later:

Okay, I’m back. Everyone’s sleeping (Val’s snoring…OMG!). I can’t really sleep. Well, I was before, but then Ciel had a nightmare and woke the whole tent up with his screaming (poor kid). It honestly sounded like someone was trying to kill him! Rianne took the poor bugger outside, and now they’re just sitting outside the tent in the moonlight. How romantic T-T. Felicia and Alois are currently sharing a really quiet conversation - about what I don’t know, but it’s really none of my business. I should probably go to sleep…

I’ll write later. Bye.

18th February

So, we have to write a reflection of some sort. I decided not to do it at the meeting, as I really don’t have anything to reflect over...until now. So, we had just gotten into our tent (it’s kinda weird, like, it’s a concrete slab with a tarp over the top, with four bunk beds inside) and had all pretty much fallen asleep instantly. Then, a high pitched scream came from Ciel, and I was pretty terrified with just the sound. I woke him up when he began to thrash, and as he sobbed, I took him outside. He owes me for sitting out there in the freezing cold at night.

He was pretty rattled, and I decided to rub circles on his back and give him hugs. As his breathing hitched with fear, I whispered all the comforting things I knew (which weren’t much to begin with). After about, what, half an hour, he finally calmed down. I won’t ever forget his visible eye, wet with tears and hollow with pain. I wanted to hold him in my arms until the evil of the world disappeared. Instead, I shot him a smile and said, “Nice night, huh?” He gave me such a warm smile. “Yeah, especially with you here.” I kinda don’t know what to do with myself now.

19/2

‘Sup. It’s me again. Day two, and what a day it’s been. Can you believe, we woke up at 6am? That’s bullshit. We got given the worst breakfast in the world (they forgot that Rianne was allergic to eggs, so everyone had to donate to her bacon). Then we had groupings. We all had to wait for each teacher to call out our names. We all decided that we wanted to be in Mr Undertaker’s group (he’s so chill), but to our horror, we were called into Mr Michaelis’ (well, Mr Faustus would have been worse…). Then we had to do activities.

Then this place became the bane of my existence! We had to do a giant swing and flying fox! Everyone was so excited, but me (and Ciel, but he’s much better at hiding his nerves it seems). Anyways, I was feeling quite sick at the thought of being swung over 20 metres in the air, and begged Mr Michaelis to not participate. Rianne and Ele backed me up (bless them), but the stubborn mule that is our group teacher refused. “No, you must participate, it is good for character building.” My ass.

Basically, I felt really sick just before my turn, so I went back up to him, and once again, told him my condition. He looked like he could’ve just thrown me into the swing. Before he could yell at me (again) I vomited all over his shoes. I have never felt so apologetic, yet smug at the same time. Maybe a bit more apologetic as Mr Michaelis looked ready to commit third degree murder. Thank God Rianne was there, a big grin on her face (Ciel looked pretty impressed too), and said, “she warned you.” I have never seen someone look so regretful, yet annoyed.

Long story short, I didn’t have to do the swing. However, I did have to do the flying fox (which was probably worse in my books). It was basically a thread of steel (doesn’t stop the fact that it’s a thread) over a huge gorge covered in trees and pointy rocks. Ele said it was ‘beautiful.’ I thought it was shit-stain terrifying.

About half an hour of Rianne, Ele, Felicia and Valentino coaxing me, I finally manned up and did it. It was pretty funny, I face-planted in the mulch pit at the end of the cable, much to everyone’s delight. I actually think I swallowed some....

Mr Michaelis was actually rather nice about it. I thought he would rub it in my face, but actually patted me on the shoulder and gave me a congratulations about “tackling my fears head on” or something. I was too busy marveling over the fact that he helped to dust off the mulch covering my clothes. It was nice.

...And reflection time is over. See you later!

February 19th 2017

Kay, its Felicia here. Okay, so I might have been too lazy to write my reflection for yesterday, but whatevs.

So...we are on Jesus camp. I’m with my friends, I guess. It’s been OK so far. Highlight - Eleanora puking all over Mr Michaelis’ shoes and face-planting in the bark pit. Also, Alois screaming his head off as he swung up on the giant swing. Great day, love love.

I’m actually writing outside of reflection (It was sooooo boring!) in my kinda uncomfortable bed (hammock thing). After dinner, we had what everyone called a ‘night hike’ (Eleanora’s idea, ‘night light’, but not.).

We ended up clambering through the forest tripping over branches and roots. Strange creatures called throughout the night, and the darkness was suffocating. I pretended not to feel Alois’ killer grip on my arm, or the nervous whimpers and shivers.

We reached Campfire Hill (Any guesses as to why it’s called that?). It’s a weird place, with a huge open space where all the trees had been cleared out, placed around as benches to sit in front of the fire with. Scattered around the area were several fire pits with freshly cut logs already left in preparation to be lit.

It was nice. We chose a fire pit far away from the teachers and other student groups. Mr. Undertaker gave us a box of matches, before drifting away. Alois desperately wanted to light the fire, so we all agreed he could. He giggled the whole time, lost in the dancing flames reflected in his widened pupils - he looked sad, broken.

We all sat around. It was pretty cool. Ms. Annafellows came around with marshmallows, and we were allocated quite a few. Alois sat as close to me as he could (I think he was cold). Rianne and Ciel sat together, Ciel wedged between Rianne and Eleanora. Ele and Valentino sat on the other side of me, cuddling. It was cute.

We chatted about nothing and everything. School, friends, other kids, teachers, our homes, dreams, all spread amongst the hungry tongues of fire, drifting into the loneliness of the night. The air grew dark and depressing, the end of school a very conscious weight pressed upon our backs - this was the last camp - our last chance to just be a group of immature children before we had to face the bared fangs of the world.

Alois seemed to notice the tension, and wasn’t very comfortable. And so, he started off a string of scary stories, his being about a horrible fire that burnt and consumed a town, the ghosts of the burnt people rising up and possessing unassuming travellers.

Eleanora joined in - never one to pass up on a storytelling opportunity. She told the story of a terrifying mist which brought with it stomach-churning creatures from another dimension.

Ciel volunteered, and told the story of a soul-sucking demon with an attitude. It was funnier than it was scary.

Ele went last, and told a pant-soaking horrifying tale of demon clowns that roamed the streets at night (it was scary because it was really realistic). Soon, the teachers appeared to tell us it was time to return to the camp. So we made the trek back to our little tent, and went through the motions, before going to bed.

But we didn’t sleep. By this point, it was 10 O’clock, and no one had settled down. I kept seeing demented clowns every time I closed my eyes (thanks Ele). As we all sat up awake, Rianne spotted a moving silhouette around the tents, a shadow dark enough to be seen looming outside.

Ciel pumped in the logic: probably some teachers. Alois thought otherwise, claiming it to be the clowns from Ele’s story. I know it was stupid, but I was still scared out of my mind. Common sense had run away screaming long ago. Now the stranger was coming closer to the entrance.

We watched as the zip of the tent was slowly lowered down, and all I could think was that Slender Man is gonna get us.

Much to our horror (and amusement) Eleanora leapt into action, tackling the stranger before they could step into our safe zone. Ele, Rianne, Ciel and Alois (and probably me) were screaming/shouting. As they landed, we heard the familiar ‘oof’ of Mr. Michaelis, and suddenly, the whole situation was just too funny. We burst out laughing, and scrambled outside to see Eleanora sitting on his chest with a threatening fist aimed at his head. Her face was frozen in an expression of shock and complete regret (probably should’ve looked before she leapt). He was smirking at how stupid we probably all looked, and I found it strange when Ciel and Mr. Michaelis shared a very familiar look.

The next thing we knew, we were ushered back inside and told to go to sleep, lest we wanted detention. Eleanora was as bright as a Christmas bauble, and when Valentino and Ele tried to tease her about it, she snappily replied that anyone would be embarrassed if they had just crash tackled their teacher.

When everyone finally looked to be drifting off, Alois admitted to me that this was the most fun he had had in a long time. “Thanks,” He had murmured, laced with sleep. “It’s great to have such a close friend.” Me too. I had thought, as he fell asleep with his head hanging off the bed.

Well, it’s like, 1am now, so I’m going to bed. Night.

20/2

It is the last day of camp. I am currently sitting on a bus writing up the final reflection diary entry of our weird ass reflection camp. This morning was way better than yesterday. Especially since I was on cloud nine after witnessing Ele and Val kiss the night before. So cute!

Speaking of Ele, she was hella tired this morning. Like seriously, she couldn’t even stand up straight! Felicia was really concerned, so was Val (surprise surprise). We took her to a teacher, Ms. Annafellows, but not much could be done. In the end, she just ended up sleeping through breakfast.

Breakfast was waaaay better (they actually had food Rianne could eat without having to fear for her mortal life). The teachers then told us that we had free time until we had to leave (after like, a two hour reflection, of course). The weather was kinda warm, so we all decided to claim the swimming pool. Luckily, everyone thought ahead and brought swimmers (except for Alois, whom Felicia had to persuade to wear booty shorts instead of skinny dipping).

It was pretty cool. We splashed about, and had the mother of all water fights. Half way through, Ele appeared, looking much less pale and healthy. Val was very happy to see her (if you know what I mean), and took his shirt off, revealing his badass abs. Ele was so cute about it, she told him to cover himself up (she was worried about him getting sick, which is super cute! ><).

After swimming, we all decided to hang out with different people. Literally everyone ditched me, so I decided to hand out with the teachers. Talk about lame.

20th of February

Last day of camp, thank God!

So today on my reflective journal we have another interaction that I really don’t know what to do with. After swimming in the pool, Ciel headed off into the woods. I decided to follow him (i am not a stalker). I followed him until he reached a clearing, which was a little odd. From his posture, I could tell that something was up. I tried to alert him that I was there by walking loudly, however, even when I tapped his shoulder, he still got startled (I think he was really lost in thought…)

He told me to get lost, and I was really tempted to do just that, but he looked - broken. I felt my heart shatter. I honestly couldn’t help myself, and before I knew it, my arms were around him, pressing his head to my shoulder. Soon, I could feel a dampness seeping onto my shoulder, but I chose not to say anything.

After some time of just standing there, he removed himself. He mumbled an apology, and I still, even now, cannot understand what he meant when he said, “I don’t want to forget them.”

Now I really want to get to know him better.

February 20th

Okay, reflection time…

So, after some swimming, everyone went their separate ways. Alois literally dragged me away, and showed me what he called a ‘hidey hole.’ When I asked him why, he confessed that he liked the comfort that tight spaces gave him. I don’t really understand, but he seemed pretty content with it, so I let it slide.

Anyways, we chatted about nothing and everything. He told me about his previous friends, and how he hoped I wasn’t like them. I honestly feel like he’s an injured child, who’s afraid of losing people. I can’t help but feel sorry for him.

I told him about my family - how I had the pressure of the family on my shoulders - being the first person to go to uni. Alois listened intently, like every syllable that came out of my mouth was insanely important. Even with my friends, I had never felt so listened to.

Eventually we were called out by Mr Faustus, and we ran like hell, laughing all the way. Afterwards, Alois wanted to play hide and seek, so we did. It was really fun, and he almost fell out of a tree during one of the rounds. I feel like this camp wasn’t really that bad…

Okay, I’m really bored, so I might as well document this. We’re still on the bus (about 2 hours in) and I’ve taken pictures! Rianne and Ciel are sitting together, so is Felicia and Alois, and Ele and Val (I am right at the front behind the teachers with a pillow to keep me company T-T). Right now, Ele is leaning/drooling all over Val in her sleep (ewww…). Ciel and Rianne are snoring up against each other (they’re both going to have really sore backs after this…) and Alois and Felicia…are playing tick tack toe. Noice. I’m going to try and sleep now. I’m so tired…

I’m kinda sad about school ending. Maybe, after the HSC, we’ll all keep in contact, like some big dysfunctional family. Yeah, that’d be so cool, one big and weird, yet happy family! I don’t want anything to change.

Chapter 8: Connections

Notes:

Hello again!!!

We apologise for the hiatus; we both had our own actual HSC to go through, and life caught up with us.

But we're back, and determined to finish the story.

Thank you for reading!!

It was a cloudy day in mid-June.

Like all days put aside for an excursion, the heavens looked heavy with rain.

Our squad stood to attention at the bottom half of the school, dressed in casual clothes. The rest of the school was awake and starting, probably not missing our little group in the slightest.

In this group, we had Ciel, Ele, Alois, Rianne, Felicia, Eleanora and Valentino.

They were waiting….waiting for the school bus.

They didn’t have to wait too long, it leisurely drove up the cobbled driveway adjacent to the patch of grass they were waiting on. Ele let out a disappointed sigh. She hated the school bus. It was extremely tacky, especially since it was decorated with blown up faces of students from their school, smiling as if there was a gun pointing at their heads (knowing this school, there probably was).

Out came Mr. Michaelis, dressed in a sharp capri pant suit, with a nice crème jacket.

“Now, are you ready for the first extension one English excursion of the term?”

“Yes!!” Cried Ele excitedly. When everyone stared at her like she had grown another head, she quickly changed her stance. “I-I mean...I’m ready?”

They all clambered onto the mini-bus, an hour-long ride ahead. The inside of the bus was not small, but was neither large by any means. One could tell that the van had been within possession of the school for some time, as much of the white leather used on the seats was peeling and (in some places) coated with a sticky substance.

All in all, there were eight seats in the van, allowing all the occupants to sit comfortably together.

They began driving.

“Hey, Mr. M,” began Felicia. “I bought a CD for us to play on the way to the Uni.”

Mr. Michaelis turned to face her as he drove up to a red light. “What is it?” He asked.

“Music we all enjoy.”

She didn’t mention that Alois (and possibly Ciel) had never heard of their, umm, tastes.

He reluctantly agreed, and her plain blue CD was inserted into the player.

“KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE ~” blared through the speaker.

Mr. Michaelis jumped in his seat, obviously not expecting such a loud beginning. Felicia sat there, a smug grin growing upon her face. Rianne, Ele and Eleanora began to sing along, right off the bat - a terrible chorus, more shouting than singing.

At Mr. Michaelis’ uncomfortable expression, Ciel smirked. As Mr. Michaelis went to turn the volume down, Ciel intercepted it.

“Sorry, Mr. Michaelis, but I really like this song~” Ciel bore a shit-eating smirk, and Rianne grinned.

“Could you turn it up some more, sir?”

Ciel’s smirk got wider (if that was even possible at this point). “Could you?”

Mr. Michaelis seemed to groan, but it was quickly replaced by a plastic smile. “Of course. I love to see my students enjoying themselves.”

...And now the song’s bass was making the seats in the van vibrate.

“At least the music is loud enough to cover up their terrible singing”, Thought Mr. Michaelis.

To say the drive to Lupi University was torture (to Mr. Michaelis) was an understatement. Felicia’s magical CD was full to the brim of anime theme songs and catchy K-pop - all of which our female crew sung to.

By the time they found a parking space, and got out of the vehicle, all their voices were hoarse around the edges.

Mr. Michaelis smirked with glee. “Looks like you four will have to save your voices.”

Eleanora returned the smirk. “I bought cough lollies sir, to soothe our throats.”

They had never seen a teacher look so defeated.

The small group of eight made their way through the humongous campus that is Sydney University. Old sandstone buildings and modern structures sat side by side, stretched further than the group could see. Hundreds of young adults milled about, all from various countries.

Ciel and Alois marveled at the sights. Rianne reasoned that they had never been to a university before.

Mr. Michaelis led them to a very strange building. It was an auditorium, however it was covered in thousands of glass panels and seemed to tilt strongly to the right. The doorway was large enough to allow the group to walk in as one huge line. Inside, chairs were positioned in stretched rows, other students from various other schools already seated or checking out the competition.

At the very front of the cavernous hall sat an elevated platform with a built-in podium and projector. A podgy man stood there, the buttons on his suit looking like it would burst any second.

Mr. Michaelis led them to an empty row of seats, and had everyone sit down.

“Now,” he began, “here is the schedule for today.”

Felicia examined the paper critically. “Group work?”

Mr. Michaelis nodded in confirmation. “This is an interactive lecture. However, please remember to have your manners about you.”

Alois scoffed. Rianne smirked. “Sir, we are students of St Euphemia’s, manners are our specialty!”

“We’re one hell of a school”, quipped Ciel, his eye crinkling in mirth.

Mr. Michaelis deadpanned. “We’ll see.”

#black butler fanfiction

0 notes

nyxerebus · 3 years

Text

Not Him (Negan X Grimes!Reader)

A/N: I have a other Negan x Grimes reader series, but this is NOT a apart of that series, just a one shot i wrote :) You can read part 1 of that series here: I'm Her Daddy Now

TW: Gore, Make out, Blood, Angst

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

Her back was pressed to the RV. The Saviours had started to force the people from Alexandria to kneel in front of it in a half circle. They hadn't noticed her yet. Would they recognize her? She had changed a lot since the last time she saw her dad and younger brother. Her hair was longer and darker, and her scarf was covering half her mouth and nose. She had started to look more and more like her father though, the famous Grimes stare would stare back at her in the mirror every morning. A cruel reminder of the family she had lost. The family she thought she had lost, until she saw them in front of her now.

Her eyes wouldn't leave her baby brother, how much he had grown! He was not the scared 11 year old she got separated from all those years ago, now he was a tough young man. And by the looks of his eye situation, it had been a long and rough journey since they last saw each other.

“Are we pissing our pants yet?” She rolled her eyes at Negans extravagant entrance. He was always like this, so much. “Boy do I have a feeling we're getting close”

She had been with The Saviours the past two years, been with Negan for one. She wasn't a wife, she was more than that. She was his girl, his right hand woman. By the look of how her father was staring at Negan, telling him about their relationship would be a tough talk. But nonetheless she looked forward to talking with him, to be able to be a family with them. She prayed they would forgive her for being on The Saviours side. Considering what was about to happen. This wasn't the first ‘punishment’ she had been a part of. She knew what was going to happen. She droned out when Negan went on with his speech about how they needed punishment, and how he owned them now. It wasn't until he was deciding who to kill that she focused on the conversation.

“eenie ... meenie ... miney ... mo '' Her blood ran cold when Lucille landed in front of her younger brother. “No!” She heard her father exclaim. “Shit, man. I’m usually not happy about child murdering, but Lucille is a thirsty woman!” He raised the bat. Her body acted before her brain could tell it no. She took long strides and placed herself protective in front of Carl, shielding his body from Lucille.

“Not him” She hissed out. Negan was taken back, usually (Y/N) wouldn't have trouble when he had to punish new communities. “The hell you saying?”

“Not. Him” She glared at him, she would rather die than let anything happen to her brother. Negan leaned down so only she could hear what he was saying. “You know him?”

“He's my brother,” she whispered. Negan took a step back and rubbed his beard. “You know I have to punish them” He gave her a stern look. “You want to kill him? You have to go through me. Take somebody else”.

“Listen folks” He was addressing his men. “Now some new information has occurred and it looks like my girl here knows this boy. Now I am a gentleman” His famous smirke etched its way to his face. “You all know I can't say no to my girl, but my other girl demands some punishment for their actions. Now I want to please both my girls at the same time. So, we spare the boy, but my girl has to choose who will take his place AND finish the job” He held out the end of Lucille to her, while the men in the back murmured in agreement and some even cheered her on.

She grabbed Lucille. “Go get em BabyGirl”. She turned around and faced Carl. He was crying now. She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it didn't seem as if it helped. Her eyes danced between the group that was kneeling. Her eyes landed on the large redhead, he pushed up his chest, as if he presented himself as a sacrifice. She walked over and stood in front of him. The dark skinned girl next to him cried out when she realized what was about to happen. (Y/N) was standing in front of him and leaned in, whispering so only he could hear. “I’m sorry”

“Don't worry, if it saves the boy. I’ll gladly take it” She raised the bat. and with all her might swung it down. The sound of the cracking of a skull was a sound all too familiar to her, but she had never heard it when she was the cause. it almost made her stop. But she couldn't stop. She took swing after swing. Knowing how Negan wanted him to end up, to end up in a mess of blood and brain goo. Blood splattered everywhere, and she had to fight back her dinner making its way up when she saw his skin tear and expose his brain. The bat felt heavier and heavier after each blow down onto the man's head. Christ, she didn't even know the name of whom she was killing. Cries and cheers filled the silent night. When she heard the splattering sound of the bat hitting the brain goo, she stopped. She turned around to face Negan, avoiding her family's gaze.

“Look at my dirty girls!” He exclaimed, and pulled her towards him, her back pressing against his chest. Blood had splattered on her face and upper body, but Negan didn't care. He never cared about blood getting in the way. He grabbed Lucille from her and turned her head sideways, so he could whisper into her ear: “Good Girl”

“(Y/N), I, what-” Rick was trying to speak, the shock of the situation still not leaving him. “I have to say, seeing my girls work together like this, just warms my heart-” He squeezed her closer; “and tickles my balls” He grinned at his men, who mostly chuckled at his crude words. “You can go to him” He whispered and realised his grip on her. She was about to walk away, but was stopped when he grabbed her arm. “Wait” He pulled her back so they were chest against chest. “Give me a kiss first” She just rolled her eyes, knowing he wanted to rub it in Rick's face that his daughter was with them, with Negan. Standing on her toes, she reached up and kissed him, she was going for a simple peck. But he tightened his grip around her and deepened the kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth and she had to bite back a moan. When he pulled back a string of saliva was still connected between them God, how he loved the look on her face. Covered in blood, with a post makeout haze still in her eyes. He laughed out and realised her. And without being pulled back, she walked over to Carl and kneeled down in front of him.

“Hey” She whispered out, he stared back at her with a dirty glare. But tears of seeing his sister for the first time after thinking she was dead was pressing on. But then one of the guys in the line up jumped up and punched Negan in the face. You gasped and were about to stand up. But Negans men handled it and held him down. “No, nope. Put him back”

She knew what was going to happen, Negan was going to kill one more. She wouldn't let Carl see that, see it again. “Don't look” She pulled him closer so his face was pressed against her chest, face turned the opposite direction of the group. Carl was fighting back, but gave up after his sobs got the best of him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and cried into her chest. “Shhh”. The sounds of someone else getting beaten and the all too familiar cries filled the air once again. “No!”

“Its going to be okay” She tried to comfort him, “I won't let them hurt you” His sobs got louder when he heard the stuttering of the man who was being beaten; “Maggie I will find you”. He whispered the name of the dead man into her chest. “Glenn” Negan speaking and the cries of the group became just background noise. All she cared and focused on was her brother. She rubbed his head and back, trying to lull him into a calmer state. But she was pulled from her work on comforting her brother when Negan grabbed Rick and pulled him away. “No!” Carl shouted, sitting straight up and separated from her. (Y/N) held Carl back from punching up and attacking Negan. Negan sent (Y/N) a small nod, which she returned with her own nod. They were telling each other without words:

‘I can't promise he wont die’

‘As long as Carl lives, I don't care’

“Calm down Carl!” She held her back. He started to cry again, the fear of losing her father taking its hold on him. (Y/N) wiped his tears, bur cringed when some blood from her fingers stained his cheek. “Come here” He fell into her arms again. She didn't know what to do. She hoped Negan saved her father, but her father was a grown man. Her primary mission now was to secure her brother. And she would be damned if she didn't succeed.

#negan fanfiction #here's negan #negan smith #negan x reader #negan imagine #twd negan #negan #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead #the walking dead negan #rick grimes #grimes reader #grimes family #reader insert #negan smut #daddy negan #carl grimes

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silversatoru · 3 years

Note

Can i regurst a gojo x reader smut where y/n is gojo’s ex girlfriend and also a strong jujutsu sorcerer and they get back together asdfghjkl 🥺😂? Tyy 🥺

hehhee yes ma’am here u are!!! i actually loved writing this one (i think i just have a thing for writing gojo lately lmao) anyway! i! hope! you! enjoy!

to heaven and back

gojo satoru x f! sorcerer!reader

synopsis: you and your ex, gojo satoru, beat the hell out of a few special grade curses and then head back to his house to rekindle an old (and kind of kinky) flame

tags/warnings: nsfw (18+), smut, handcuffs, blindfolding, little bit of oral sex, teasing, alcohol consumption, some fluff at the end? just a little

word count: 3.1k

You lifted your elegant glass of random wine that you could care less about knowing the name of, and took a long sip. All of these old rich bastards talked way too much about brand names, aging, and what cheese paired well with each wine. They were missing what was really important — which one would get you drunk the quickest.

These kinds of formal events weren’t really your scene, and having to listen to a bunch of old, conservative, high-up jujutsu leaders was terribly boring — so why not take this opportunity to get a little tipsy? You deserved it for putting up with all of these assholes. After all, the only reason they invited you to this prestigious event was for protection. If that pesky band of special grade curses caught wind that all of the higher ups from both Kyoto and Tokyo were in the same place, they were sure to launch some kind of attack. The old, wrinkly douchebags couldn’t care less about your opinions of the jujutsu world and how you would change it, they only liked you for incredible cursed technique.

And so here you were, spitefully wearing your most elegant dress and downing glasses of wine in an attempt to drown out all of the nonsense around you. There was only one thing that could make this event any worse and—

“Hello everyone! The strongest jujutsu sorcerer has arrived — I know you were all looking forward to my appearance”.

And there it was. There was that one thing that could make this event any worse. Gojo Satoru.

You dipped your head low, burying yourself in your glass of wine and praying to any god who would listen to not let this man see you. It’s been over two years since the two of you broke up, but he still wasn’t someone you enjoyed running into.

Gojo was terribly notorious for having a long line of girls at his disposal, and with his incredible strength and annoyingly good-looks, it wasn’t hard to understand why. The two of you had never been in an officially committed relationship, and so technically Gojo was free to do as he pleased — but you were practically dating and your heart ached every time you caught wind of him being with another woman. And so two years ago you cut things off with him for good — you were tired of being the one he always ran back to at the end of the day.

He’d looked at you with eyes full of pain that night, begging and pleading to stay with him. He showed you a vulnerable side to him that you had never seen before — and he swore to you that if you had asked to make things official, he would have committed himself to you fully. You declined however, because you felt like you shouldn’t have needed to ask for that kind of thing — but maybe that was just your ego getting in the way.

“Hey, beautiful, I’ve never seen you around before, you must be from the Tokyo campus,” Some random assistant casually leaned against the counter you were sitting at and shook you out of your thoughts.

“If you’ve never seen me before then you must not be very important,” You shot him a distasteful glance, taking another sip of your wine.

The man’s face lit up with panic — he must not have been expecting such retaliation to his pathetic attempt of flirting.

“Are you bothering her?” A familiar voice came from behind you — a long, slender hand slapping down onto your shoulder, “Please don’t flirt with my wife”.

“Ah- Wife? I’m so sorry, sir,” The man stumbled over his words, bowing his head to Gojo and scurrying away.

Gojo wasted no time sliding into the seat next to you and pouring himself a glass of wine from the bottle you’d already been working on.

“Really? You’re telling people I’m your wife now?” You gave him a deadpanned look.

“It worked, didn’t it?” He shrugged his shoulders and took a sip from his glass.

You rolled your eyes hard, “Why are you here, Satoru?”

“Same reason as you. The old, conservative pussies are afraid those special grades might attack — so why not invite their two prized sorcerers to protect them?”

“Fair,” You let out a heavy sigh, “Not sure that was their best move though — I don’t think either one of us is very motivated to save these fuckers”.

“No, but I brought my students with me today. So, if anything does happen, make sure you put on a show for them,” He winked, already topping off his wine glass.

You looked over to see a few kids sitting a couple tables away from the two of you, chatting amongst themselves and wondering why the fuck they had to be here.

And so an hour or two went by, and to your surprise, you found yourself laughing hysterically alongside Gojo. The two of you had definitely drank a bit too much, and your personalities complimented each other a little too perfectly. You shared the same terrible sense of humor and he had quite the knack for bringing out this lighthearted side of you. You had missed moments like this these past two years.

Neither of you were paying any attention to the current debate that was occurring between the higher ups when a loud crash sent broken pieces of glass flying through the grand hall. Sure enough, the curses had made their appearance and came flying into the building through a now broken window.

“It’s our time to shine, huh?” Gojo looked over at you, and you imagined that his icy blue eyes were swirling with excitement under that mask.

“Yeah, let’s make this quick,” You found a warm ball of excitement churning in your own stomach — it’d been a long time since the two of you had fought together.

Your technique revolved around the manipulation of cursed energy and converting it into light. You could wrap yourself in a shield of light, send curse-filled bursts of light at your enemies, and move at the speed of light as well — which was almost as efficient as Gojo’s teleportation abilities. You had a series of more advanced moves as well, but those required more energy output and therefore you used them a little less often.

The two of you were both able to move so fast that the curses really didn’t stand a chance. You found yourself laughing as you flipped through the air, hurling balls of light at the curses as Gojo worked closer in hand-to-hand combat. At one point, while the two of you were flying past each other, Gojo stuck out his hand and gave you a high five, both of you smiling like maniacs who enjoyed fighting a little too much.

Between Gojo’s Limitless and your extreme agility and bursts of light, the curses were quickly forced to flee. Both of you were feeling much too drunk and much too lazy to chase after them, even with all of the higher ups begging you to do so. Gojo simply flipped them off and stuck out his tongue, saying that he did what they paid him to do — keep the curses away — and now that the curses had been scared off, he was no longer needed.

“You want to come back with me, relieve more of our old memories together? I remember how much you loved sleeping in my king sized bed,” Gojo looked back at you, offering one of his large, slender hands.

Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was your stupid, stupid heart, but you reached out and took his hand, “Fuck it, let’s go”.

Gojo’s house on the outskirts of the Tokyo campus was just as you remembered — sleek black interior with modern furniture and extravagantly silky sheets on his bed — his same bed that you were currently sprawled out on, laying in nothing but your undergarments.

Gojo joined you a couple minutes later, his bare skin warm and familiar against yours. He pressed a few sloppy kisses to your lips, both of you still incredibly tipsy and unable to stop the small giggles from leaking out between your lips while you kissed.

“Take the blind fold off you weirdo,” You pulled at the back of the black fabric.

“Mmm, okay,” He mumbled, undoing the knot and exposing his piercing blue eyes.

“So pretty,” You murmured under your breath — his eyes really were the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in your life

His fluffy silver hair fell down messily over his face, a drunken smile stretched across his lips. His smile quickly turned into a devilish grin as he slipped the mask over your eyes instead, tying a tight not at the back of your head.

“This isn’t what I meant,” You droned, but you didn’t argue — you certainly weren’t opposed to being blindfolded.

“It looks good on you,” He slurred, his words messy and his lips even messier as he pressed them back against yours.

The kisses seemed to last forever, and both of you were perfectly okay with that — your hands taking their time exploring each other’s bodies for the first time in far too long.

Gojo’s hands worked their way up your back, tracing lines along your toned muscles until he finally reached the nape of your neck. His fingers entangled themselves in your hair, soft hums coming from his lips.

“I still have handcuffs, if you’re still into that sort of thing,” he mused, massaging his fingertips into your scalp.

“Damn, I can’t believe you remember what I like. I thought my preferences would have gotten lost among the sea of other women you were pleasing,” You let the snarky remark roll off your tongue, though there was clearly no real spite in your words — you’re both adults and what happened then was in the past now.

“It wasn’t even that many,” He defended, “And you were the only one who ever mattered”.

“I’m flattered,” You laughed, “Now, where are those handcuffs?”

Gojo stifled a deep laugh, his hands leaving your hair as he lifted himself up and stood from the bed. When he returned a few moments later, there was cool metal wrapping around both of your wrists. He had two sets of handcuffs, putting one on each wrist and then hooking the other side to the bed posts.

You were entirely at his disposal now, your hands secured over your head and your vision blocked off by the black mask.

“I could tickle you right now and there’s nothing you could do,” Gojo observed aloud, pressing kisses up the side of your torso.

“Satoru, I would kick the living shit out of you,” You threaten, goosebumps growing under your skin.

“Yeah, but you can’t touch me unless I let you,” He retaliated, his soft hands reaching underneath your bra to feel your breasts.

You groaned in response — his Limitless really did make him impossible.

He cupped each of his hands around your firm lumps, gently massaging them between his fingers. His cool fingertips then made their way down to your lower body, swiftly removing your remaining underwear. You were now completely exposed to him, chills running down your spine as you wondered what he would do next.

You heard a shaky breath leave his lips, his hungry hands massaging circles into your thighs, “God, you’re so beautiful. I missed you so much, you know that?”

“I’m sure you did,” You breathed, “I’m a wonderful person to be around”.

Gojo let out a hearty laugh, and you heard what you assumed to be the sound of his own underwear getting thrown to the floor. A few seconds later he was straddling your torso, his warm thighs wrapped around your body. You couldn’t see it, but you knew his massive member had to be right in front of your face now.

“Remind me what that pretty mouth can do,” He cooed, pressing the tip of his length gently to your lips.

You graciously granted him access, parting your lips and taking the head of his cock into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the sensitive tip, earning a few twitches from Gojo’s body. You began to bob your head back and forth as much as the handcuffs allowed, a few quiet moans leaving his throat in response.

He began to move his hips against you, gingerly pushing his member deeper and deeper into your mouth until you were taking the full length down your throat. He groaned and let a few curse words slide from between his teeth — your mouth was wrapped so perfectly around him. Tears pricked at your eyes and a couple rough gags ripped through your throat, Gojo finally pulling away and allowing you to catch your breath.

After that, you felt a single one of his long, slim fingers slide into your mouth, and you wasted no time wrapping it in your tongue and sucking hard.

“Good girl,” He murmured, plucking his finger back out of your mouth and moving it down to your aching entrance.

Between the saliva on his finger and the slick juices around your opening — his finger slid in effortlessly. He started moving in quick movements, curling his finger up into your g-spot each time. A few light moans left your lips, your fists clenching in the cuffs as your yearned for more. His finger felt good, but you wanted the real thing — you needed it.

“Satoru, please,” You practically whined his name, a tiny bit ashamed for how desperate you were for him right now.

“Patience, love,” He clicked his tongue and your heart did somersaults at the endearing name.

He removed his singular finger and intertwined it with a second one before sliding them back into your cavern. He picked up a steady pace again, your breath hitching in your throat. Two fingers was certainly better than one, but the continuous teasing was just making you even more desperate to feel his member inside of you. You mumbled his name over and over, small pleads and shameless whispers leaving your mouth as you bucked your hips against his hands.

“No ones fucked you as good as I used to, have they? You’re horribly desperate right now” He clicked his tongue again, removing his fingers and moving them up to your clit. He rubbed the smallest, softest circles against the small nub, your core growing warmer with desire.

“I won’t make you wait any longer then,” He whispered, sitting back and positioning the head of his length against your throbbing cunt.

“Please,” You mumbled fervently, any ego or pride that you once had was completely down the drain now.

Your pleads were finally rewarded, Gojo pressing himself deep into your tight walls. The immediate feeling was complete bliss, your head rolling back in pleasure as you heard a throaty moan creep it’s way out of Gojo’s mouth. His moans were so pretty — god, you’d missed the sound of them.

He moved in and out at a tantalizingly slow pace at first, your hips bucking and wiggling as you made fervent attempts to make him go faster.

“So eager…” He shook his head, continuing to move at a pace that was absolutely agonizing — you thought you might die if he didn’t rail the hell out of you soon.

“Please, fuck,” You gasped, “Stop moving so goddamn slowly”.

“Your whines are so pretty, baby. Say my name and maybe I’ll give you what you want,” He murmured, his voice low and husky.

“Fucking hell,” You gritted your teeth, “Please Satoru, please fuck me already”.

“Shit,” He mumbled under his breath, your words sending electricity coursing through his body.

After hearing you say that, he was quick to give you what you wanted, picking up his pace and wrapping his hands firmly around your hips. Strangled combinations of moans, whimpers, and cries filled the air as they flew from your mouth. You didn’t care how loud or desperate you sounded, you wanted him to know how good he was making you feel.

The two of you were an entangled mess of sweaty skin and throaty moans, Gojo filling your ears with praises and compliments the entire time. His lengthy member railed into you over and over, hitting that perfect pleasure point with each stroke and sending warm surges of ecstasy through your veins.

Your bodies moved together in sync, your breaths aligning and your climaxes threatening to arrive simultaneously. After a few more firm strokes, you felt yourself drowning in pleasure — euphoria crashing through your body like waves. Gojo reached his end point just a few moments later, his loud cuss words and strangled moans filling your ears.

The two of you rode out your orgasms together, and almost immediately afterwards Gojo collapsed next to you. He lazily reached up and uncuffed each of your hands, leaving the cuffs dangling from his bed posts just in case there was a round two in his future. He rolled the sticky condom off his member and tossed into a nearby trash bin, a relaxed sigh slipping between his parted lips. You peeled the black mask off of your eyes, finally able to meet his again.

He was staring at you with eyes filled with all kinds of emotions — the emotions that he’d been too afraid to admit to the first time the two of you were together. But he wasn’t afraid of commitment anymore, he was absolutely certain about what he wanted, and it was you.

“Stay with me,” He asked, his eyes pleading with you, “I’m ready this time, I promise. I’m all yours, if you’ll have me”.

You found a small smile tugging at the edges of your lips as you looked deeper into his eyes, “Of course I’ll stay, as long as you still feel this way when you wake up sober tomorrow”.

“I’ll feel this way forever,” He pressed his head into you and mumbled into your chest, “And I’ll remind you as many times as you need to hear it”.

You wrapped your arms around him in response, the two of you fitting impeccably together. He placed a few gentle kisses to your skin before his breathes began to slow. You found your own breathing to be evening out, your cloudy thoughts pushing you closer and closer to sleep. The two of you slowly drifted off together, your heavy breaths falling perfectly in sync.

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsukaisen #gojo satoru smut #gojo #gojo saturo #gojo satoru x female reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x female reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru smut #smut #smut and fluff #jjk gojo #jjk smut

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freindly-neighbourhood-anarchist · 3 years

Text

🎰🍷dancing with him at a ball🍷🎰

🍷☾︎𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐒𝐌𝐏 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫☽︎🍷

Art by: Inozuart

Go and check out their speed paint they did of this beautiful art on youtube!

🍷☾︎𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 : 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐫, 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐲🍷

𝐀/𝐍: Highkey simping over the TNT duo right now, ngl. Quackity is just getting better and better- Definitely gonna do these prompts with Ranboo, Tubbo and Tommy. I just think that it would be really cute to dance with them at a ball lol

____________________________________________

☠︎︎☾︎ʀᴇᴠɪᴠᴇʙᴜʀ☽︎☠︎︎

youtube

To say it was strange to see Wilbur Soot standing near a bar and drinking a glass full of blood-red wine would be a complete understatement.

(Y/n) had never spoken to him fully before, they more so made a lot of conversation they could build off of but neither decided to go through with it. (Y/n) hung around Alex, George, Sapnap and Karl more so than the rest of the SMP.

Hence why she was forced to go to this god forbidden ball.

She sat at a stool near the corner of the huge ballroom, her body wrapped in a tight and mildly uncomfortable maroon coloured dress.

'End me.' She thought mindlessly as she took another large swig of tequila, watching everyone dance around and laugh with eachother.

George, Sapnap and Karl weren't invited to the ball, she noted.

She had heard that they weren't on good terms with Quackity as of late, and he was the one who threw this ball.

She may have been lonely at this ball, but she felt as though eyes were on her at all times. It was weird. Very weird.

Every once in a while, her eyes would land on Wilbur's tall form. He seemed lonely as well, a bored and unamused expression on his stitched face.

His eyes were kept still on Tommy who was dancing around with Tubbo and Ranboo, who both had large grins on their faces.

(Y/n) found it cute that even after dying and coming back, Wilbur still held a sort of fondness towards Tommy.

She doesn't blame him, Tommy was a good kid.

A kid that's been through too much.

The girl frowned deeply and took another shot of tequila. And just like that, the eyes were on her again. Her eyes shot from her tequila that she was swirling to Wilbur, eyes widening slightly when they met with his harsh brown eyes.

He kept eye contact, eyebrows raising slightly at her in interest before he sent her a small smile, a fake one. (Y/n) could tell it was fake from a mile away. It was one of those smiles that you give strangers as they walk passed you on a sidewalk.

Huffing out a condescending chuckle, the girl rolled her eyes at him and shook her head, drinking the last of her tequila and went back to watching everyone dance.

The action clearly stirred more curosity within him, because all of a sudden he felt himself walk over to her with a wine bottle in hand and two wine glasses in the other.

(Y/n) was snapped from her daze when she heard someone clear their throat from beside her. Her head snapped up and met with his dead-cold eyes again.

There was silence before she spoke up, her tone sharp yet inviting," Can I help you, sir?" She spoke mockingly, eyebrow raised.

Eyes swirling with amusment, the man tilted his head to the side, his white tuft of hair following with the motion along with the rest of his curly, brown locks." Mind if I sit here, ma'am?" He replied with a smiliar mocking undertone to his voice.

Clicking her tongue a little, she nodded her head to the chair on her left lazily," Knock yourself out." She droned out, frowning at the sight of her empty glass.

She was too lazy to go to the bar.

'Guess I'll die.' She thought.

"You a wine girl?" Wilbur hummed out curiously, hoping to God she'd say yes otherwise he brought another glass over for no reason and probably looked like a dumbass now-

"I'm an,' anything with alcohol in it' kind of girl." She reassured him.

'Thank fuck.' He hid his relief with sly smile," Ah, a woman after my own heart." He flirted, pouring out a glass of wine for both her and him.

She 'tched' and took the glass," You have a heart? Pfft." She grumbled, taking a long sip of the wine. The wine burned at the back of her throat before bursting into a wonderful grape flavour mixed with cherry." Mm.. Good wine."

"Very good wine." Wilbur nodded in agreement, a content look on his face.

A comfortble silence sat between them and they both decided to enjoy their wine in peace.

(Y/n) watched as Eret and Fundy joined in with Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo. They looked like good friends dancing together. Reminded the girl of how her friendship was with George, Sapnap, Karl and Alex.

Now? It's just her.

She tried to keep the friendship from falling apart, but then Kinoko Kingdom happened and everything went to utter shit.

Las Nevadas, it was wonderful. Paradise. But it wasn't for (Y/n).

So when Quackity had asked if she wanted to join him, she refused respectfully but still said she was willing to help him with whatever he needed at all.

He was flattered, but disappointed at how she had decided against joining Las Nevadas.

She always wonders how her life would've turned out if she had accepted the invite.

"You want to dance?" The question was sudden.

When she looked up at him to see if he was joking, she was surprised to see how serious yet calm his expression was.

Raising an eyebrow, she swirled the wine in her glass and crossed her legs over one another," I'm not very good at dancing."

"And you think I am?"

She gave him a confused look," Aren't you? You look like the kinda guy that would be brilliant at ballroom dancing." She hummed out.

He chuckled raspily, eyes soft," I'm flattered, but trust me, I'm no better at dancing than Tommy." He assured her.

She looked him up and down, unconvinced before she sighed a little, giving in. She was too tired to argue at this point.

She stood up from her chair abruptly, even surprising Wilbur at the fact she had agreed. Giving him a stern yet soft look, she nodded," Let's dance then, Frankenstein."

Then she made her way to the dance floor, making Wilbur scramble from his chair with an eager grin.

They stood facing eachother before Wilbur held his hand to her, a grin tilting onto his lips," May I compliment you on your appearance this evening? You are among the brightest of flowers." He spoke with suave.

The girl blushed and she took his hand quickly, squeezing it a little." No need to flatter me, Wilbur. I am very well aware my dress is rather ugly this evening." She grumbled out grouchily.

He stared directly into her eyes,"Your dress? I hadn't noticed it." He said smoothly, his eyes never left hers," I'm sure it looks amazing on you."

The music began, saving (Y/n) from having to answer. The hand on her waist was firm and soft, almost like it was keeping her safe.

They stepped in line with eachother, (Y/n) messed up every once in a while and managed to step on her own feet and Wilbur's the first couple of minutes before she finally got into the swing of things.

Glaring up at him, she pouted," You liar."

He grinned cheekily at her," Hm? I don't believe I know what you're talking about."

" Whatever you say, Mr. I'm worse than Tommy at dancing." She rolled her eyes.

"I never said I was worse than him. Honestly, anyone can be better than him at dancing. Let's face it."

For the first time that whole night, a small and genuine smile broke out across the girl's lips. Wilbur was enamoured by how her whole face lit up just by the slight tilt of her lips.

She looked beautiful.

"Leave Tommy alone, the kid tries his best." She smiled out.

"He does." He nodded earnestly, a little smile on his lips," I don't deserve him."

"You don't." (Y/n) spoke rather bluntly, but she still had a soft smile on her lips as she spoke her next words," but as much as he doesn't want to admit it, the kid needs you a lot. You're his big brother." She looked at the blonde-haired teen who was laughing at Ranboo who had spilled juice over Tubbo by accident. Her smile widened and her eyes were warm,"... you might just be the luckiest man in the world."

His breath was stolen from him at her words, and he couldnt help but agree with her due to the current circumstances.".... yeah... you could say that."

He held her closer to him by the waist, holding her other hand tightly and securly." So... Where did you learn to dance, Frankenstein?" She teased him, eyes bright with mischief.

A little laugh slipped through his lips," is this the nickname you'll be sticking to now?"

"You know it."

"Oh, great." He sighed out half-disappointedly before he decided to answer her question." When I was younger, my mother used to give me a lot of dance lessons with Technoblade. I requested them because I wanted to learn how to dance for this mermaid girl I had come to befriend."

"Oooh~" the girl raised her eyebrows suggestively," You're pretty romantic when you want to be, you know that?"

He shrugged, cheeks tinted a light pink that was barely noticable," the first time I'm hearing this." He admitted.

"Well... Frankenstein, you're pretty goddamn romantic when you want to be."

He grinned slyly," so you find me romantic, huh? Is that a sign for anything in particular, orrr?..."

The girl snorted a little," Hm? I don't believe I know what you're talking about." She repeated his own words.

He laughed," Touché, touché. You win this round."

Soon, the dance came to an end and the two were left still in eachother's arms, staring at eachother with enamoured looks on their faces.

Then the girl smiled at him," it wouldn't be bold of me to ask for another dance... Would it?" She requested, hope swirling in her gemstone-like irises.

"Not at all," A genuinely happy and charmed grin curled on his lips at her words and he held her body still," thought you would never ask, (Y/n)."

____________________________________________

⚠︎🎰 ༄𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐲༄🎰⚠︎

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(Y/n) hadn't intended to be attending Quackity's party, in fact, she wasn't supposed to be attending.

She wasnt invited.

Supposing this is what she gets for not going along with Alex's whole 'Las Nevadas' gig. She prompted to stay with her friends in Kinoko Kingdom instead, thinking that Quackity wouldve done the same.

But she thought wrong.

So, so incredibly wrong.

You see, have you ever felt the feeling whenever you grow so incredibly close to someone to the point where you think you know them better than anyone else? That's how (Y/n) had felt with Alex. She was so sure that he wouldve chosen her and his friends over some nation that seemed to be setting itself up as a land of secrets and mystery.

From what she's heard, Quackity only grew all the more mysterious and distant.

He was so distant.

(Y/n) couldnt remember the last time she had seen him. The last time she's had a decent conversation.

The last time her heart fluttered around him.

She missed him, truly she did. Sometimes she debated abandoning Kinoko Kingdom in favour of running into Alex's oh-so-welcoming arms.

But her morals told her otherwise. She chose, for once in her life, to not follow her heart. But now, here she was, completely going against what her close friends had told her not to do.

She was being drawn to him again.

Using her heart to make important decisions.

And as she opened the large doors to the ballroom, all time seemed to freeze around her. Eyes shot towards her in curiosity, some with joy at being able to see her again and some with malice.

Alex was no different to the latter.

As soon as his dark eyes had met with her ethereal gemstone-like ones, he felt a buzz of electricity travel up his spine.

He couldnt diferientiate between the feeling of anger and slight awe at her beauty.

The girl fumbled with her fingers awkwardly before she sent him a shy wave, her smile soft-yet panicked as her eyes scanned over his new features.

He looked so different.

And she couldn't tell if it was the good kind of different or not.

At her shy wave, Alex cleared his throat and nodded respectfully as a goodbye to who he was talking to, which thankfully was Sam, and then he began making his way over to (Y/n).

A scowl curled onto his lips, his eyes darker than ever.

The eyes that made her feel warm and safe now froze her down to her very core.

When he was right up to her face, standing in front of her, that's when she knew--

This wasn't the Alex she had fallen in love with.

"What the hell are you doing here..." he muttered lowly to her, he grabbed her bare arm tightly- but it wasnt tight enough to hurt her, surprisingly. Then he dragged her to the exit, shoving her rather roughly outside, shitting the door behind him.

"We-well I-... If I-I'm being completely honest, I didnt exactly have a plan to come here, I just really wanted to see y-" he interrupted her.

"You didnt have a plan?? (Y/n)-- What the actual fuck makes you think I'd ever want you here?!" He was furious, eyes burning a bright fire, a fire even Sapnap couldnt withstand. " I actually cant believe you thought coming here would be a good idea. Are you actually as dumb as you were when we were still talking to eachother? You havent fucking changed."

She flinched at his harsh words but she covered up how hurt she was," Well- if you would let me explain myself, then maybe you'd understand why I'm here."

The casino owner took off his beanie, running a hand through his messy raven locks in frustration before he settled the hat back on his head," Make this damn quick. Because, in case you havent noticed, I have guests to entertain."

Gulping, the girl but her lip nervously out of habit," I know... I know I'm the last person you want to see. I know you hate my guts. But... Alex, I genuinely miss you." She spoke sincerely, eyes glassy beneath the moonlight," when I heard you were throwing this party... I couldnt help myself. I needed to see you... to hear you... to talk. God-- Just listening to you makes me so happy already." Her lip trembled," So please... let me hear you... let me see you. I'm begging... can we please talk?"

Brushing off the rush of heat that crossed his tanned cheeks, Alex looked away from her stubbornly.

He didnt want to give in easily.

But when it came to her, he was always put under a spell.

"Lo que sea.... fine." He sighed out, running a hand over his face in irritation, wincing whenever his fingers brushed over his scar." Come sit over here." He gestured to a bench that sat next to a long river that went off into the ocean, the moon reflected off of the clear water as did the stars.

The two sat next to eachother, the gap between them representing how distant they are from eachother.

"So? Talk." He prompted her, leaning back into the bench rather lazily, looking up at the sky.

Cheeks warming with happiness, she couldnt help but smile at finally being able to talk to him after so long," Thank you so much... I've been wanting to talk to you for so long after everything that happen-... What happened to your eye?" She whispered, suddenly noticing the long scar that ran over his eye and eyelid and then down to his lips.

"Oh yeah- you werent here for that," he jabbed at her," This was all Techno's doing." He gestured all over." Sorry that I'm not the perfect guy that you used to be friends with anymore."

She knew he wasnt sorry.

In fact, she knew that with his new self, he was a lot more confident.

Free.

She liked that.

Smiling at him, she shook her head," dont be silly. If this change makes you happy, then I'm happy."

His heart thumped harshly, making him clear his throat to cover up the noise in case she had heard his loud heart.

"I was just worried but... it looks kind of good on you-- err... not in a weird way or anything." She tried to cover up her slip-up," Anyways... that's not what I came here to talk abou-"

"Do you wanna dance?"

The girl's eyes widened at the sudden suggestion, gazing over Alex's features with shock. His tanned cheeks were red and he was avoiding all eye contact, eyebrows furrowed.

"... come again?" She stuttered out, her throat felt like it was closing up.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes," I asked if you wanted to dance."

The girl's heart did flips in her ribcage as her eyes fluttered,"I-... I would love to." She nodded, wobbly smile on her painted lips.

The man stood from the bench and held a hand out to her, trying his best to not smile when she eagerly grabbed it, stars in her eyes.

He moved her soft hand to his neck, making it rest there, (Y/n) then moved her other arm to wrap around his neck as well. Alex then settled his calloused hands on her pretty waist, pulling her body close to him.

He was afraid she would slip away from him again.

In truth, he had missed a hell of a lot as well, maybe even more so than she missed him.

He always debated visiting her or arranging to meet up with her, but his plans always got in the way and blurred his desire for her.

But seeing her tonight, all dressed up for him, it made him want to fall in love with her all over again.

The two swung side to side, the faint music from the ballroom guiding the two of them. Quackity rested his chin on top of her head as the girl turned her head to the side, resting her ear against his chest and listening to his thumping heartbeat.

"You look amazing." He muttered to her.

"You too... well... yeah, no you look amazing."

He chuckled lightly," why'd you hesitate?"

"Well... I wanted to think of a better word for amazing but my heart is beating too loudly for me to think properly..." she admitted.

At her heartfelt confession, Alex felt himself smile warmly for once in a long time.

He felt like a teenager in love again.

"Yeah... I feel that too." He muttered, inhaling the scent of her vanilla shampoo, biting off the dreamy sigh that threatened to spill from his lips." (Y/n)... why didnt you join me? "

The dreaded question.

"If I'm being honest... I thought you wouldve joined Kinoko Kingdom with me."

Quackity's heart clenched at the thought.

So she felt just as betrayed as he did, that makes sense to him now.

"I debated going to join Las Nevadas everyday, but I knew that meant leaving George, Sap and Karl and I felt so conflicted and just... horrible." She mumbled, feeling her eyes beginning to water," It was hard, Alex.... I wanted to see you so so bad... But I also wanted to be a good friend... I felt like I was the bad guy either way, and I just wanted to make both parties happy.... I hated being away from you... God... I hated it so much." She sniffled, making Alex pull her closer to him," seeing you now... you dont understand how happy it makes me feel..."

The man sighed a little and kissed leaned away from her, cupping her cheek and then moving it so she was face him. He tilted her head up a little so he could see her teary eyes, feeling his heart call out to her to comfort her.

He ran a thumb over her cheek, wiping away the mascara and tears and when she blinked up at him innocently, he couldnt stop himself from smiling down at her reassuringly.

"I wanted to see you so much as well... I felt my heart ache every night to see you..." he began, pressing his forehead against hers," I'm sorry for treating you like shit... you deserve so much damn better... (Y/n), I'm begging. Please stay with me, will you?"

Her breath hitched.

"Stay by my side... please?"

Her heart stopped.

"I want to be with you all the time."

Her tears stopped falling.

"I love you."

And she smiled, wider than she ever has.

"I've been waiting so long to hear that..." She whispered to him," I love you too, Alex."

He grinned down at her crookedly," Deadass?"

"On god."

"Fuck- I'm not dreaming, right?" He then had a mischievous glint twinkle in his dark eyes," Maybe you should kiss me to seal the deal?"

She snorted," you're asking me to initiate it? Dont you think you're moving a bit fast, lover boy?"

"I think you're moving too slow and that you talk too much." He stated simply before he leaned down, capturing her soft lips in a messy kiss, their lips molding together as soon as they came in contact.

It's the kind of kiss that inspires stars to climb into the sky and light up the world.

His hands flattened against her back... and she was up on the tips of her toes, kissing him as fiercely as he was kissing her... He clung to her more tightly, knotting his hands in her hair, trying to tell her, with the press of his mouth on hers, all the things he could never say out loud...

And as her lips rubbed against his chapped ones, she knew her life was set with his, nobody else.

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