#i hope tagging this as . will allow me to find this again in the future. since apparently only having it in the text as . doesn't work

[heartpascal]

lock it when you leave

▹ — joel miller x platonic!f!reader + tommy miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: part three of if the door wasn’t shut — tensions rise in jackson, leaving you scrambling to find your place.

▹ — a/n: guys i’m not all that happy with this part!!! it feels kinda … filler-y. but we are getting somewhere!!! i have ideas for part 4 :’) let me know what you guys think!! (if you guys wanna be tagged in future parts let me know)

▹ — warnings: angst, guns, fire, murder, there’s a baby in this one, blood, arguments, infected + raiders, father figure miller bros

▹ — tags: @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @pedropascalsrealgf @faceache111 @livvy256 @dizzyforyou @hiphopdancer101universe @aphrcdites @axionn @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @coolchick333 @hufflepuffriver @kobenio @dorothleah @moonygremlin @tomorrowseverything @martinsmomo @teenagetragediesforeveryone @dksjskx @inkiqayo @fariylixie0915 @jbcalway @ipadkidsworld @coldwcter @rhyanna6012 @gimalo135 @kimpineeeeeeee @jerseygirllll @dreamerglassesgirl @g0bble @firsttimewriter92 @coldheartedmar @cheneyq @dilfsaremyfavourite @sakurarukas @brilliantopposite187 @ilovemydinoboi @chiogarza @lockleywife @famoussuitcasepiebagel-blog @doctorliamsr @dustyroper28 @daffodil0darling @marchstrilogy @cappucinolia @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @ithoughtthiswastwitterbutfr @slut4timotheechalamet

masterlist | PART ONE | PART TWO

howl’s song association!

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Four months ago, when the wound was still fresh, you never would’ve thought that you’d be here. Stood comfortably in the Miller’s home, stirring food over the stove as Tommy and Maria fussed over the newborn of the household in their living room.

In fact, you would’ve bet against this exact scenario, certain that you’d never let yourself get close to another Miller ever again. It was the only logical thing for you to do — after all, that wound had been angry and sore, the blood still wet.

You wouldn’t say it had healed, not even close, really. It still throbbed, white hot to the touch, especially when you thought of Joel and Ellie, but you were managing. Coping. It helped, having Tommy and Maria around, far more than you had ever expected. They were kind, softened from years of sanctuary, and you hated to admit it, but you cared about them.

The feeling had snuck up on you, which was ridiculous, considering that was exactly how it had happened before. Though, perhaps you had been less apprehensive the first time around, considering the way you flinched away from their care in the beginning. You should’ve expected it, should’ve fought against it with everything in you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

This was the reminder of just how human you were. Despite all the pain, the suffering and anger and scars against your skin, you craved connection. You wanted people to care about you, wanted your life to have meaning, even though it seemed to only end in your own heartbreak.

You just hoped this would be different.

A childish thing, to hope, in a world like this one, but that’s what you were, right? You were allowed to be childish, to let that hope build back up until it was inevitably knocked down, reduced to rubble. People seemed to appear from the strangest of places, coming to help you scavenge through the debris for something to rebuild the foundations with.

That’s what Tommy and Maria had been to you — fitting, really, considering what Tommy had done in the time before cordyceps. They had spent time with you, helping you build up that hope for something better, something kinder.

You hated to do it, hated to lean back into relationships, but you trusted the two of them more than you were willing to admit to anyone — even to yourself. With their own child now in the world, you just hoped that you wouldn’t get in the way.

Maria’s drawn out sigh shook you from such thoughts, and you raised an eyebrow at her where she stood beside you, her back resting against the kitchen counter. “What’s up with you?” You ask her, turning your gaze from her slight smirk back to the food, where you started to fish on to plates. It was a good job she’d caught your attention — much longer and the three of you would’ve been eating charred scraps.

“Oh, nothing.” She responded, and looked sharply to you when you scoffed a slight laugh. “What?” She asked, grinning.

“That was the biggest sigh I’ve ever heard, and I’ve known Joel for about as long as I can remember.” You told her, almost absentmindedly, not thinking too much on the joking comment until after you’d already spoken it.

Maria’s smile got small, and she took over the garnishing part of dishing out dinner, the part that you still didn’t understand. Why put it on there if it didn’t need to be? And when Tommy was definitely going to pick it off?

“Don’t judge me,” Maria told you, saying your name in what was almost a scolding voice, “Tommy’s just putting the baby to bed, he’ll be in in one sec.” She said, after you had moved to pick up his plate, too. You raised a hand, grabbing her plate and leaving her to bring the cutlery, rolling your eyes when she scolded you.

“Calm down, Maria, it’s only been a week. Let me help.” You said to her, when she continued to lecture you on just how capable she was, despite the way she held onto the walls and doorframes with one hand as she walked, the other holding onto her now slightly flatter stomach.

“She giving you a tough time?” Tommy asked, having settled the baby, and hearing Maria’s rants.

“Isn’t she always?” The two of you shared an amused look when Maria immediately jumped on the defence, only relenting with a roll of her eyes when Tommy leant down to press a kiss to the top of her head.

“Hey, don’t forget who just got you all your new clay, kid!” Maria told you, as Tommy left to grab his own plate from the kitchen, and grinned when your shoulders sagged in defeat. “How’re the mugs coming?”

You shrugged idly, scraping food onto your fork.

“You talked my ear off about those damn mugs, and now you’re quiet?” Tommy questioned as he dropped down with a huff on the couch, stretching back slightly.

“That was just to annoy you.” You told him, fighting a grin when he sat up with something close to an incredulous expression on his face. You wouldn’t lie, though, it warmed your chest slightly that Maria was asking about such things when you knew how exhausted she was. Painfully, you realised that she reminded you more and more of Tess. “They’re… good. Kinda. Improving.” You said to Maria after a brief pause, before shoving your food into your mouth.

“Well, we could do with some more. Only got the two, and you’ll need one. Plus some for guests.” Maria said between bites of food, ignoring the look Tommy shot at her for the guests comment. You weren’t stupid — you knew that she was talking about Joel and Ellie. They didn’t really have other guests, after all. Any other socialising was done in town, even town-related meetings, usually going down early in the morning in the hall.

“I’ll see what I can do.” You responded, feeling something shiver down your spine bitterly as you thought of Joel and Ellie coming here.

Usually, you pretended they didn’t. You liked to think that Tommy and Maria’s house was untouchable, impervious to anyone who wasn’t you, them, or their new baby. You saw the remnants of their other guests, of course, like when you’d come in the morning, and there would be four plates in the sink. Or when Ellie’s coat still rested on the coat hooks. But the couple’s presence felt comforting, and you weren’t willing to give it up. Not right now, at least.

You refused to let Joel take anything else away from you. He didn’t have the right — he never did. It wasn’t like he was your father! Joel had made that much clear from the start, back when it had just been you, him and Tess.

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“She doesn’t have anyone, Joel, what else was I meant to do?” Tess asked, her words biting as she yelled them toward her partner.

“The last thing we need is a kid to take care of. Send her to FEDRA.” Joel responded, his voice loud, but not quite a shout. He was trying to be the voice of reason here, not the asshole. Looking after some child they didn’t ask for, it could only end badly.

What if somebody came looking for you? Somebody with a vengeance? What if you turned out to be some asshole kid who killed them both? What if they couldn’t get the rations to feed you? What if—

“What? So she can get shot in the street in a few years? Joel, she should get a choice.” Tess bargained, unsure herself as to why she felt the need to defend you so much.

She knew Joel was right — knew that it wasn’t practical or realistic to keep you in their shitty apartment, but some part of her just knew. You needed the two of them, and in the middle of the apocalypse, was it really too difficult to do one good thing? Tess wasn’t saying it to be a hero — but god knows that too many kids had died already. She wasn’t trying to give Joel somebody else to look after, she was just trying to help.

Tess wanted to be able to look you in the face, and tell you that this was your chance. They didn’t turn up often in the apocalypse, and she wanted to urge you to take it. Was that too much to offer? Just an opportunity to live a bit longer, to survive in a world that strived for your death?

“Tess…” Joel sighed heavily, turning his head to look where you were sat back against their couch cushions, knees drawn to your chest as you ducked your head, clearly pretending that you hadn’t been listening the whole time. “Okay, fine. Let the kid stay.”

Tess nodded at him, the two of them moving apart as she headed towards where you were sat, something heavy and daunting resting on her shoulders as she looked at you, foolishly hoping she wouldn’t live to regret this.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Things were getting tense in Jackson.

You knew that things had been growing restless for a while, but it had gotten worse, somehow beginning to feel tangible in the very air you breathed.

Two separate raiding attacks had come in the past three weeks, which was definitely cause for concern. The first hadn’t gotten far enough to reach you where you had slept in your shop, and it was only the morning after as the dead were buried that you found out it happened.

The second was not so easy — waking you up in the middle of the night, which was an easy task, considering how light your sleep had become at the reminder that the walls around Jackson weren’t impenetrable. You woke up to the sounds of yelling, the roaring of flames, which sounded far too close to comfort. It was only when you rushed outside of your shop, clay carving tool clutched in your hand, that you knew for certain it was raiders.

They’d gotten deep into the town, which was a shock to the system, making it feel like cold water was running down your back. People were running on the street, gunfire sounding from further out, by the wall. The raiders seemed to be multiplying, but you knew they couldn’t be more than a party of twenty. No way would any of the guards miss a group bigger than that, right?

“Get back inside!” One of them yelled towards you, a rifle sitting stiffly in his hand, and a helmet resting on his head. He didn’t have a very commanding voice. You stayed where you were, frozen.

He approached, fingers tightening on his gun, and you could’ve sworn that your heart was beating so fast in might explode. The blood was rushing in your ears, and you felt sick for a moment, before the cold wash of reality came over you, in the form of the raider yelling so harshly in your face that you could smell his breath.

You blinked harshly at him, and swallowed down the bile in your throat as he moved to raise his gun toward your head. It felt like something had snapped in you, and you were launching yourself at him in less than a second, reminiscent of a barely-there memory back before Ellie was around.

Your clay tool hadn’t been very sharp, so it had taken force to push it into his neck when he fell down under your sudden weight. You tried not to think about the pressure you’d forced on it as you shoved his head down into the pavement when he tried to lift it in some form of defence, likely trying to smack his helmet into your face. His hands reached up, pushing you away with a burst of strength — what you hoped was the final burst of adrenaline.

Loose stones on the ground scraped up against your arm, drawing the tiniest bits of blood as you skidded across the floor where he had shoved you. When he turned his gaze to you, you bared your teeth, snatching his gun and holding it firmly away from you when he reached for it, pulling the trigger.

Glass shattered behind you, and you tugged the gun until it came away from his grasp, and he reached up, pulling the tool from where it stuck out of his neck.

The gun was firmly in your hands, aimed at him, before he could even raise the tool towards you, the sudden rush of blood from his body only rendering him weaker.

Your name had been called a second later, and you scrambled away from the raider as gunshots slowly faded out, leaving behind scared shouts and the blaze of the still-burning fire. You looked up to see Tommy, rushing towards you and tugging you up from the ground the moment he reached you.

“Shit,” He muttered, holding your arms tightly as he let his gun hang limply at his side. “Are you okay? You hurt?”

You shook your head, still grasping onto the stolen gun, and watched him sigh in something close to relief, before he turned his gaze to the shattered front of your shop.

“Come on.” Tommy urged then, nodding his head and only releasing you when you made to follow him, and he grasped onto his own gun as you began the trek to his and Maria’s home.

When you got there, Tommy shoved you inside and quickly shut the door behind him, taking the gun from your hands and resting it against the wall by the coatrack. He did the same with his own gun, a moment later.

“Maria!” You called, your voice scratchy as it left your throat. The baby was crying, you could hear it the moment you stepped inside, and you moved straight into the kitchen, finding Maria stood there, holding onto the baby and shushing, as she paced back and forth.

“Oh, thank god, you’re both okay.” She sighed out, approaching her husband and pressing a hard kiss to his lips. The worry lines on her forehead were visible, showing how stressed and anxious she truly was. “You hurt?” She asked the two of you, raising her voice to be heard over the crying baby she rocked in her arms.

“No, we’re alright.” Tommy answered, his words sounding close to relief despite the way his muscles remained tight, tense.

“Shit, Tommy,” Maria swore, looking at a gash that was trickling blood down his arm. “We gotta get you patched up. Would you mind?” She directed the last question to you, lifting her arms slightly to show off the crying baby held in them.

“Uh— sure.” You agreed, anxiously, because despite the fact it had been a few weeks since the baby was born, you had continued to keep your distance. You followed Maria into the living room, where she sat you down on the couch and placed him in your arms, as you tried to mirror the shape of her own.

He was loud, and heavier than you had expected, but you let him rest heavily in your left arm, with your right just resting gently against his side, finger running over the pyjamas he was dressed in.

“You two gonna be alright?” Tommy asked, nodding when you did, and following Maria to the upstairs bathroom, where their personal first aid kit was kept.

You rocked your arms the slightest bit, trying not to release the sigh of relief when the baby finally began to settle down, the loud sounds fading and leaving behind a tense silence over Jackson. When all the loud noises faded, you were left with a slight ring to your ears, likely from where that raider had fired his gun right beside them, aimed at your shop.

You couldn’t imagine how Maria had felt — she was a protector, and it must’ve killed her to stay behind with the baby whilst her husband left to help out the town. She was still recovering from giving birth, the event taking its toll, especially in the apocalypse, where the painkillers she’d had during her first birth weren’t available. Medical professionals were hard to come by, with only two residing in Jackson, neither specialising in things such as pregnancy or labour.

Luckily, they knew more than enough about it to give Maria the best chance at survival she could get. You don’t know how Tommy might’ve reacted if she hadn’t gotten through the birth. You didn’t want to think about it.

“Tommy? Maria?” A voice yelled, the front door banging open and causing the baby to begin his wailing once again. “Shit, sorry—” Ellie cut herself off as she entered the room, shock evident on her face when she saw you sat in there.

“They’re upstairs.” You answered stiffly, referring to her earlier yells, and you began rocking the baby boy once again, trying to settle his cries. You ran a gentle finger down his forehead, to the tip of his nose, shooting Ellie a nasty look when she just continued to stare at you.

“Joel went to find you.” She said, after a few moments, lowering her voice as you finally got the baby to begin settling, your arms tense as you tried to keep him as still as possible. You looked up at that, eyebrows creasing as you regarded her, saw the way her fingers fiddled together, pulling at the zip of her jacket.

“Why?” You questioned, confused for a moment. After all, Joel hadn’t cared much about leaving you behind when the two do them left Jackson, so why would he care about your whereabouts while you were here? “I can take care of myself.” You said, when she didn’t respond to your question, and you felt your jaw tighten when Ellie just rolled her eyes.

“Joel did what he did to take care of you. Why can’t you see that?” Ellie asked, voice hardening as she looked at you, lounged against the couch, holding Joel’s nephew in your arms, whilst he was on there searching for you.

You sat up slightly, a deep crease forming between your brows at the fire in Ellie’s words. It made somerhing uncomfortable stir in your chest, tightening and getting hotter as you looked at her expression.

“I didn’t ask him to do that. I wanted to come with you both. He took that from me, Ellie, he left me behind.” You said, feeling like you were turning in circles, beginning to feel dizzy and not getting anywhere. You strained to keep your arms somewhat relaxed, to keep your hands still where they wanted to clench into fists.

Her next words were quieter, and you struggled to hear them over the ringing still in your ears, drowning out the blazing world around you. She spoke again, her eyebrows furrowing to match your own, “You’re being unfair, you said you didn’t want to carry on!”

“I said I wanted to go home!” You said, voice raising for a moment, before you quietened your tone, only for the sake of the baby you held, who had already been disturbed enough tonight. “And in case you didn’t notice, Ellie, that was impossible. I lost everyone, don’t you get that?”

She shook her head, her cheeks going red as she grit her teeth, “Of course I fucking get that! You’re not the only one who lost people.”

“That’s not what I said!” You responded, feeling increasingly heated the longer the conversation went on, “But that trip cost me everything. So yeah, maybe I didn’t want to carry on. But I would’ve. I would’ve followed you two anywhere.”

“You got to stay here, in this actual fucking town, with actual fucking people and food and— and water!”

“People who are strangers! I was stuck here, in a town with things I don’t understand, people I don’t recognise, and the only ones I trusted left me here.” You spat back at her, wishing she could just understand what it had been like — didn’t she know how it felt to have your choice taken away from you? Why should they get to decide things for you? What happened to that control that Joel and Tess knew you valued so much?

Ellie opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by the sound of footsteps in the hallway, and you swallowed down the anger that felt lodged in your throat, focusing on the baby who was fussing in your arms, saving his hands in the air until he caught onto one of your fingers, and held it tightly.

“Sh— There you are.” Joel’s voice came from the doorway, a heavy sigh forcing itself from his chest, and he entered the living room, his face crumpled in something like fear and relief. He opened and closed his mouth more than once, like he wanted to say something, before he finally settled on, “Tommy okay?”

“Maria’s patching him up.” You said flatly, turning your head away from where he stood beside Ellie, and keeping your gaze on the baby and where he was slowly beginning to dig his blunt nails into the skin of your finger.

Joel stared at you, his chest feeling close to hollow, and he could just remember the fear that had swallowed him whole when he saw the raider lay dead outside of the shop, the shop windows shattered against the ground. He had shoved the door open faster than he could think, his boots crunching against shattered glass loudly as he rushed to the door in the back, his heart pounding so hard he thought he might have a heart attack as his eyes scanned the ground.

When he had finally gotten the door open, a breath had left him as he realised you weren’t here, and he felt the pressure that had been pushing against his spine loosen the slightest bit, and he hurried to make his way back to Rancher Street, hoping with everything he had that you were at Tommy’s.

And now, here you were, as safe as you could possibly be, but Joel still didn’t feel relieved.

He felt dread, all consuming, and it reminded him painfully of that time, all those many months ago. Had it been a year?

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Joel’s hand had been frozen, finger hovering over the trigger of his pistol, and he felt the air in his lungs struggling to get out. It was suffocating, making his body ache as he stared at you, where you held your breath, pressed as tightly to the wall as you could get.

Your eyes had closed, and he could see the muscles in your face twitch as you tried not to flinch away. One wrong move, wrong breath, wrong sound, and you’d be dead in a second — or worse, and Joel didn’t want to think about worse.

Tess was on the floor below, the three of you slowly making your way up, clearing the building as you went, aiming to get to the fifth floor, where the supplies were meant to be. Joel knew she wouldn’t be coming up any time soon, with the way the clicking echoed all throughout the room, likely travelling down the staircase.

It was right by your face — you could feel the breath against your cheek as it gargled and clicked, looking for you, getting so close that the shards of fungus that cracked its skull into pieces were almost brushing against your hair.

He didn’t know what to do — if he aimed wrong, he could hit you, or miss entirely, and just alert it to both yours and his own presence. He could try to kill it with the axe that rested against the nearby cabinet, one that he recognised from glass boxes labelled in case of fire, in the time before.

There was a glass bottle beside his foot, and with the slowest movements he could muster, Joel crouched low to the floor, gripping it in tense fingers, and threw it as far away from you as he could get it. He held his breath as it shattered, and the clicker let out a screech in your face, whirling away just as you had to exhale the breath you’d been holding. It hobbled away, unsteady on its feet, and you picked up the axe as you moved away from the wall.

Joel ushered you out of the room, back into the stairway, and grit his teeth as the clicker turned back at the sound of your hurried footsteps. He just about had time to slam the metal door shut, putting the deadbolt at the top back up into the concrete ceiling.

You breathed a sigh of relief, cradling your shaking hand to your chest, while the other gripped onto the axe tightly, ready to swing at a moments notice.

“Skip that floor?” You asked him, in a slightly joking way, and he nodded, face set in a dangerous expression as he glared at the door that shook slightly with the Infected clawing at it from the other side. With shaky legs, you climbed up to the next floor, waiting by the door as Tess poked her head up, hurrying up the steps to the floor you had just been on.

“Everything okay?” She asked, hands out towards Joel as if he was a feral animal, and he hadn’t quite realised just how thunderous his expression had become.

He nodded to the door, hearing the muffled bangs and scraped coming from the other side, the screech of fungal outrage. Tess placed a hand on his shoulder, nodding understandingly at him.

As they ascended the stairs to meet you where you waited for them, Joel could only grit his teeth as dread built tightly into his chest, squeezing his lungs and heart as he looked at your trembling fingers. You were fine, he knew, that Infected hadn’t even managed to touch you, but Joel couldn’t help the way that dread and fear began piling upon him, weighing his chest down so much that it became hard to inhale another breath.

You held the axe up, the thing slightly too heavy for you to carry it comfortably, but you managed, gripping tightly as you waited for Tess to open the door.

Joel exhaled through his nose, swallowing down the heavy feeling that was trying to crawl up his throat, and he swore you wouldn’t get that close to danger again. He didn’t want to lose you.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

The council meeting hadn’t gone well — you could see it on Maria’s face, the moment she stepped through the door to your shop. The tense air in Jackson had only gotten worse, feeling thicker every time you walked past the old jewellery shop down the street, now reduced to charred remains.

“What happened?” You asked, slightly reluctantly. Clearly, this wasn’t going to be a fun conversation. Part of you was worried about what she was going to answer with, too. Could they disband the town?

“Well, nobody’s got answers for how twenty-four guys got past our lookouts. And conveniently, whoever was on lookout when they got past, seems to have been rubbed off of the rota.” Maria grumbled, looking just as miserable as she felt. You felt bad for her — she should’ve been at home, feeling happy about the new member of her family, not having to deal with a town crisis.

You didn’t say anything for a moment, letting Maria press her hands against the wooden table in your shop, and watching as she leant her chin against her chest, a deep sigh leaving her.

“They agreed on fixing up the wall yet?” You asked, feeling bad about doing so when Maria’s shoulders immediately dropped some more.

“No,” She muttered, frustration inking at the corners of her words, “Said somethin’ about conserving resources.”

“But… Jackson’s exposed with that massive hole in the wall.” You replied, eyebrows furrowed in your confusion.

“I know,” Maria replied, your name falling from her lips in a slightly disheartened tone. “That’s the trouble with politics. People lose their common sense. We got another meeting tomorrow, I’m gonna convince them, don’t worry. Got a patrol in two hours, though. You alright with Tommy cooking?”

You nodded at her, frowning when she sighed again, exhausted down to her very bones. With slight hesitation, you followed along behind her as she made her way back to her house to see her son and husband before patrol.

When you arrived, Tommy was holding the baby to his chest, shaking his head as he spoke to the kid in a baby voice. You suppressed a snicker.

Maria cooed, reaching out for the baby, and grinning tiredly when he was finally placed in her arms. With a sympathetic expression, Tommy pressed a kiss to the top of her head, before you caught his eye, nodding your head toward the kitchen.

“Everythin’ alright, kiddo?” Tommy questioned, eyebrows furrowed in concern as you paced the length of his kitchen, before stopping and turning to him, looking nervous.

“I’ve been thinkin’,” You started, your expression just about stopping Tommy from making a stupid joke, “I wanna start going on patrols.”

He stopped suddenly, his whole body going still, and you looked at him with nervous eyes. It wasn’t that you were nervous about going — though you were, a little bit — it was that you were nervous he would say no.

Despite everything that had happened with Joel and Ellie, the slight meltdown back at that cabin before Jackson, it wasn’t about being out there. It wasn’t the Infected that lingered behind corners that scared you, and it wasn’t raiders that made fear settle in your bones, it was Joel and Ellie.

They had been all that you had — everybody else had been lost to the world, and you had longed for a time before all that loss, for the home you had with Joel and Tess, where danger lingered, sure, but not in the same way. They could avoid danger back at Boston QZ, could hide out in their apartment and settle with doing shitty FEDRA-issued jobs for a while if things got too hot.

Out in the world, there was no sense of control, no sense of safety, no matter where you went. You didn’t want to watch Joel and Ellie die like you had with Tess. Didn’t want to close your eyes and still see it, see flames climbing up the building that held one of the only people you cared for. You weren’t sure you could’ve handled losing anybody else, but Joel had forced that upon you, in the end.

By removing you from the outside world, placing you behind walls once again, he had just made your very worst fears come true. You had lost them.

So when you asked to go on patrols, you didn’t feel very scared. After all, you knew the world as well as anybody else, maybe even better than some of the people in Jackson. You knew how to shoot, how to stay quiet, how to spot things that often went unnoticed.

Before losing Tess, you had been good. Despite a few slip-ups here and there, you had been allowed on their rare smuggling trips for a reason. You’d known how to shoot a gun before you had known how to read, and it came naturally to you.

“Absolutely not.” Tommy answered, after a moment, his expression hardening and turning to stone, and you frowned at him.

“‘M only asking you because I was hoping to take on some of Maria’s patrols. She’s exhausted, she needs sleep, and she’s got a meeting tomorrow. She doesn’t need to be goin’ on some patrol right now.” You responded, feeling the usual fondness that came with speaking to him fall away, leaving your voice cold, as your expression went flat at his refusal.

He stayed silent for a few moments, gritting his teeth in a way that was far too reminiscent of his older brother, and he sighed. “No, we’ll find somebody else. You’re just a kid.”

“I’m better than half of the guys you usually take out.” You argued, still trying to keep your voice down, to prevent Maria from coming in and halting any conversation on the topic. “I can handle myself, Tommy.”

“Can you?”

“Yes! Who do you think handled that raider?” You countered immediately, feeling the heat of your anger push against your chest.

“That was different.” Tommy tried, holding his hands out toward you, getting increasingly frustrated as you stepped away from him.

“How was it different?” You snapped, “It wasn’t different. Stop trying to protect me, I’m not some dumb kid, Tommy. You are just as bad as Joel.”

Your words struck hard, and Tommy’s face hardened immediately after you spoke, his frustration growing into something closer to anger.

“Why, because I’m trying to keep you safe? Just like Joel did? It’s not a crime to want you to be okay! You gotta stop treatin’ us like we’re doin’ something wrong for protecting you!” Tommy argued back, and your expression fell when he grouped himself in with Joel.

“That— That was different.” You said, repeating his words back to him, and feeling something nervous press against your neck, your hands wringing together as you stood in front of the Miller, who suddenly resembled his older brother too much.

Maria entered the kitchen then, holding the baby tightly to her chest, and frowning as she looked at where you and Tommy stood at opposite sides of the room.

“What’s going on?” She asked, almost hesitantly.

“Nothin’,” Tommy answered, still looking at you with hard eyes, nothing changing on his expression. You grit your teeth together, feeling frustration cling to the back of your throat. “Right?”

You scoffed, and made your way past him, going straight to the front door and pulling it open roughly. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you stepped out, ignoring Tommy calling your name as you slammed the door shut behind you.

When you hurried away, shoes scuffing against the pathways of Jackson, you ignored how you saw Joel sat on his porch, and just hoped he’d mind his own business.

Two hours later, when there was a knock at your shop door, your eyebrows had furrowed immediately.

You weren’t sure who could be visiting you — Maria should’ve been on patrol already, and Tommy should’ve been back at home, looking after his son. You didn’t get any other visitors, at least, ones that were welcome.

When you opened the door, you saw Joel standing there, looking nervous. Your expression immediately flattened, eyebrows creasing further, and he stopped you before you could even open your mouth. “Wait,” Joel almost pleaded, and seemed close to relieved when you grit your teeth, staying quiet. “Maria asked me to bring this over, said somethin’ about Tommy covering a patrol.”

He held out a box, looking far too nervous for such a simple request, though you could understand. With your eyebrows relaxing slightly, you reached forward and plucked the box from his waiting hands, tilting it to the side to look through the transparent sides of the box at its contents.

When you noticed Joel still stood, unmoving, your eyebrows began to crease once again. “Well, thanks for bringing this over.” You said stiffly, hating how part of you wanted to let go of all of your anger, to pretend nothing ever happened, to just hug him.

You reminded yourself that he did this, that you were allowed to be angry. You had every right to be. You were allowed to scream and cry and shout, to hold on to that anger, to that feeling of being left behind.

It felt like a betrayal to yourself, to still want to be around him, and it hurt even more that he still made you feel safe.

“No problem.” He said, hesitantly, like he wanted to say something else, to continue, to broach the subject of the elephant in the room, but he held himself back. You weren’t sure what was worse, what you preferred more. Him acting like a stranger, or him acting too familiar.

You were so conflicted, over everything. You felt fractured into hundreds of tiny pieces, each individually feeling something different, shouting for their own way. Parts of you wanted to cry and let him comfort you, whilst others screamed for you to yell at him some more, for you to beg and plead for him to feel that hollowness that you had felt when he’d left you. Part of you wanted answers, wanted an explanation that would be enough, that would justify it, but you knew Joel didn’t have one.

For him, he knew it had been the right decision. He felt some peace of mind, knowing you would be safe within the walls, at his brother’s side. But it still pained him, the way you had fractured away from him, and he had let you slip through his fingers. It left a kind of emptiness in him, knowing that you believed he had abandoned you. You believed he had failed you. Joel was scared that you might be right.

“Well,” He cleared his throat, shoving his now empty hands deep into his pockets, and he nodded at you, the action paining him. “I’ll, uh, head off, then.”

You nodded, watching him step back and turn to go before you closed the shop door, missing the way he turned back to say something, only to be faced with a closed door. He heard the lock turn.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It had taken three days for Tommy to crack.

He didn’t like the silence between the two of you, it made his neck feel itchy, his heart race uncomfortably. He worried about you, more than he had even realised himself.

So when you looked at him, eyebrows raised expectantly, he couldn’t help but relent. You were stubborn, even now, and you really did remind him of Joel with that expression on your face. Tommy wondered if you knew just how many mannerisms you’d picked up from his older brother, but thought better than to mention it.

“Okay, fine.” He gritted, his gaze steely even as he watched your face light up in victory, “But—”

“But?” You echoed, incredulously.

“But you’re only going on a patrol if one of us is on it, too.” Tommy continued, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes at your interruption. When he saw your annoyance, he fixed his statement slightly, “At least to start with. We’ll get you some trainin’, on the horses and guns, then we’ll see where we are.”

You smiled, and as much as Tommy hated to let you get your way in this, he was just glad to see you smiling at him again. “Thanks, Tommy.” You said, letting him reach over and pay your shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He grumbled.

“Hey, I made you something.” You told him suddenly, face seemingly lighting up further as you thought of whatever it was. Tommy raised his eyebrows suspiciously, tapping his fingers against the wooden table in the middle of your shop. “I know how much you loved hearing about them, so.”

You held up a box, filled with five mugs, some slightly misshapen, but holding the vague shape of a regular old mug. The handles were difficult, he recalled you telling him, and he could see it reflected in your work, the handles wonky, or curved into a strange shape. He smiled nonetheless, unable to help the laugh that escaped him.

“Well, I never.” He said, amused, and picked up one of the mugs, with a sloppily painted bear on the front. “You figured out the glaze, then?”

“Kinda. Thought it was gonna be blue.” You replied, pointing at the mug with an orangey brown owl painted on. “But I like it.”

“Me too, kiddo, me too. Say, Maria’s gonna be thrilled.” Tommy grinned, putting the mug he was holding back into the box before taking it off of your hands, rolling his eyes when you cautioned him.

“Well, let me know, yeah?” You asked, despite knowing that she was going to love them no matter what they looked like, simply because you made them. You had noticed that about her. You could probably hand her a chunk of clay, which barely resembled anything other than what it was, and she’d thank you for it.

“I will do. You’re comin’ for dinner later, right?” He questioned, gripping onto the box tighter with one hand, so he could free up his other one to place his hand on the door.

“Think I’ll just eat at the hall, tonight. You guys should come, too. Maria does far too much cooking.” You suggested, shrugging his shoulders when he looked offended, as if he should cook more. “Please, do not even go in the kitchen. The baby’s too young to be subjected to the smell of your cooking.” You joked, laughing when he huffed, exiting the house while yelling about not letting you come around anymore.

You shook your head, grabbing a chunk of clay you had cut off from the slab earlier, and dumping it on the wheel.

These people would be the death of you, you were sure, as your chest warmed from the interaction.

PART FOUR

#joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x you #tlou one shot #pedro pascal angst #tlou imagines #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #joel miller father figure #joel miller fic #joel miller imagines #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal imagines #tlou imagine #tommy miller angst #tommy miller fluff #heartpascal writes

[stylesispunk]

"The not so invisible string" | part 2

Not outbreak! Joel Miller x f! Reader

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

summary: you and Joel were made right for each other at the wrong time. Now, thirteen years later your paths crossed when both of your daughters get in trouble at school. Would be the right time for you now?

chapter summary: You and Joel had a "lunch" together and some things were said, and the past between you both is meeting the present.

word count: 5k.

warnings: angst, implications of cheating (emotional). I probably made some grammar mistakes because I write things fast. Not proofreading, ups. Italics are flashbacks <3

a/n: Chapter two is here!! Thank you so much for your nice comments and appreciation for the previous chapter, I didn't think it would be good enough but thanks for appreciating. This one is less intense than the first one, but we still have a story to develop. I'm on my summer break from work, so I hope to have time to keep writing. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌 p.s if you wann be taglisted, please I'm so shy so I feel asshamed of tagging people if you don't tell me 😳 and if I forgot someone, sorry 😭

dividers by @/saradika

"Are you waiting to see her again?" Sarah asked when Joel was parking outside school before driving to his job.

"Who?" He asked, trying to dismiss the nagging feeling settled in his stomach at the minimum possibility of seeing you again.

"Tara's mom?" She said, leaning toward his dad, "What's the issue with her, by the way? Was she your ex or something?”

"No,” he said immediately.

“So why did you get so nervous?"

"She is the love of my life," he confessed, not turning his face to Sarah in shame of being seen in such a vulnerable state.

When you were a parent, you never showed yourself vulnerable in front of your children; you never allowed them to see that part of you that’s beneath what they knew. But when they grow up, they understand you would never be a hero, but a human living life for the first time too.

Sarah's eyes widened at Joel's unexpected confession. The revelation hung in the air, leaving a palpable tension inside the car.

"The love of your life?" Sarah echoed, her voice a mix of surprise and curiosity. "But you never mentioned her before."

Joel sighed, his eyes fixed on the steering wheel as if it held the answers to a long-buried history. "It's complicated," he finally admitted. "We were each other's first love, but things didn't work out. We went our separate ways, and I thought I had moved on."

"But seeing her again..." he continued, his voice laced with a hint of vulnerability. "I never expected her to be here again."

Sarah studied Joel's profile, recognizing the struggle in his eyes. "And what about Tara's mom? Does she feel the same way?"

"I don't know," Joel confessed, a heaviness settling in his chest. "It's been thirteen years, and a lot has changed. She has a daughter now, and I have my own life."

Sarah reached out, placing a comforting hand on her dad’s shoulder. "Well, life is surprising," she said. "Maybe it's a chance for both of you to find closure, or maybe even something more. Who knows?"

Joel nodded, the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future swirling around him.

“Perhaps” He said, “Okay, now go to class before you get late.” He hurried Sarah, but before she closed the door, a bolt of thought invaded his mind before he could even think.

“Can I ask you for a favor?”

She nodded.

“Ask Tara for her mother’s number, please.”

Sarah grinned, nodding her head and blowing a kiss to his father.

The days had passed, and life had settled into a new routine for you, unemployed and doing house chores, feeling just as the same twenty-two-year-old you once were.

But that wasn’t your only thought in the back of your mind. Since the day you had seen Joel, you hadn’t been able to take him off your mind, and as if it weren’t already difficult, Tara and Sarah were slowly becoming best friends, just as you and Joel were someday back when you had anything to lose.

For Joel, things weren’t different. There wasn’t a second of the day since he had seen you that he hadn’t thought about you. About how gorgeous you still looked and how much he had missed you for the past years. Despite the investable passing of time, the past seemed to cast a long shadow over the present; he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that had resurfaced since he saw you.

Late one night, he found himself staring at his phone. Since Sarah got your number from Tara, he has been doing the same, contemplating whether to send a message. The words formed in his mind, but typing them out was a whole different thing for him. Trapped between the enormous desire to know about you or to let go of the best thing that had ever happened to him.

But before he could even formulate the thought, he pressed send.

Unknown number

"Hi, it’s me, Joel"

Your phone vibrated on your side of the bed.

"Honey?" Dwight called out,

“Yes?" you asked from the bathroom.

“Why is a Joel messaging you at this hour?”

You paused, the sensation of cold cream on your fingertips suddenly forgotten. The name "Joel" seemed too foreign on Dwight's lips; you even felt guilty.

"It's probably just something about Tara," you replied, forcing nonchalance into your tone. But the unease crept into your voice, betraying the facade.

Dwight's curiosity lingered in the room as you picked up your phone. The screen illuminated with a new message, and the familiar ache resurfaced in your heart.

Unknown number

Sorry for sending this at this time, but I've been thinking a lot about you since our unexpected meeting, and I was wondering if we could talk. No pressure, just a conversation.

You felt a mix of emotions—surprise, apprehension, and a tinge of curiosity. The late-night timing added an unexpected layer of intensity to the message.

"Honey, is everything okay?" Dwight's voice carried a note of concern.

"Yeah, it's probably about Tara or something. I'll go better call him,” you replied, forcing a smile. But deep down, you knew that hearing his voice through a phone would do enough damage to you.

“Hello sunshine! How it’s my best girl doing?” he exclaimed, his sleepy voice from this time in the morning melted you.

“I’m better now that you called”

“Remember I’m always just a call away from you, doe”

The hallway felt colder as you left the room, and the phone gripped tightly in your hand. Your heart raced against your chest, its rhythm echoing the uncertainty of the moment. As you pressed the button to call Joel, each second felt like an eternity.

The phone rang once, twice, and on the third ring, Joel's voice filled the air. "Hello?"

"How did you get my number?” you asked

"I... "I... uh, well," Joel stammered on the other end of the line, a hint of unease in his voice. "Sarah got it from Tara.”

Your mind raced with a mix of emotions—surprise, frustration, and a touch of understanding due to your daughters’ becoming friends.

"You could have asked," you replied, the tension evident in your voice. "But fine, what did you want to talk about?"

There was a pause, and you could almost hear Joel gathering his thoughts on the other end. "I've been thinking a lot about the past, about us," he admitted. "I never got the chance to properly apologize for how things ended. I just want to talk, to understand, and maybe find closure."

Closure. The word hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the years gone by.

You didn’t want to have closure with him; you didn’t want to forget.

"Joel, it's been thirteen years," you said, a mix of weariness and frustration coloring your words. "We've both moved on. What's the point of digging up the past now?"

"I know, and I respect that," Joel responded, his tone earnest. "But I've carried the weight of what happened between us for a long time. Maybe talking about it will help both of us. Besides Sarah and Tara, we could talk about them."

You sighed, the complexity of the situation settling around you. "Fine, let's meet. But just this once. I have a life, Joel, and I can't afford to let the past disrupt it."

"Thank you," Joel said, a note of gratitude in his voice. "I appreciate this, truly. Let's find a time.

"Tomorrow,” you said, interrupting his rambling.

Tomorrow? It seemed like too soon you were conflicted between the desire to see him again and the guilt of not being able to erase that part of your life.

“Okay, tomorrow at lunch” he spoke after what it seemed like minutes “I’ll send you the address.”

“Okay.” You whispered, “Have a goodnight, Joel”

“Good night, doe” he replied, before realizing how he had called you, he ended the call leaving you with no chance to answer back.

You were speechless, and the hallway felt emptier than before. Nobody had called you “Doe” since you parted ways with Joel, as if the nickname was forbidden from the lips of any person who wasn’t him, carrying a reminder of a time when the two of you shared your own language.

“From now on I’m calling you, Doe”

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head

“Because you looked so innocent with those bright eyes of you and you remind me of Bambi but I don’t want to call you that”

“What’s wrong with Bambi?”

“Nothing” he replied, “We could actually be like Bambi and Thumper”

As you walked back into the bedroom, Dwight looked up from his book, sensing the turmoil in your expression. "Everything okay?"

You nodded, forcing a smile. "Yes, just Joel wants to meet tomorrow to talk."

Dwight raised an eyebrow, concern etched on his face. "Are you sure about this? You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. I can go."

"No, I know," you replied, sinking onto the bed. "But it’s nothing bad... I actually know Joel from before. "You confessed without looking at Dwight.”

Dwight's expression softened as he processed your confession. "Before we met?"

You nodded, finally meeting his gaze. "Yeah, Joel and I have history. We were close—really close. We were actually best friends,” you said, omitting the “he is the love of my life” part.

Understanding flickered in Dwight's eyes, and he reached out, gently cupping your face. "You don't have to go through with this if it makes you uncomfortable. I trust you, and I trust whatever decision you make."

A mix of gratitude and guilt welled up within you. "I appreciate that, Dwight.”

He nodded, offering a supportive smile. "I'll be here for you, no matter what."

After that, Dwight closed his book and said goodnight to you, falling asleep a few minutes later. It seemed odd for you, but you couldn’t help but feel weird because of his attitude, as if he didn’t care about you meeting with another guy.

Dwight's seemingly indifferent response to your revelation about Joel left you feeling conflicted. Was it a sign of trust and confidence in your commitment to the present, or was there an undercurrent of something else?

As you drove to the restaurant Joel had suggested, your mind buzzed with memories of your shared past. The streets seemed to echo with the laughter and conversations of your younger selves. Navigating through familiar lanes, you couldn't escape the gravitational pull of nostalgia.

The restaurant's entrance loomed ahead, and you found yourself hesitating. The realization struck—this wasn't just a casual meeting; it was a reunion with someone who had once been the center of your world.

Once you stepped inside the restaurant Joel told you about, you were faced with reality. You were a married woman, going to have lunch not with another man who was your ex-boyfriend but with the love of your life. Your heart was beating so hard against your ribcage that you almost felt how your bones crashed at the impact.

You stopped at the entrance; your face was heating up. You wanted to leave, but before you could even make up your mind, those brown eyes found you, and you couldn't turn away.

Breathe in, breathe out.

One step, then another step.

It seemed like hours, but there you were, in front of the boy with brown eyes who put a bandage on your knee when you fell on the pavement at 5 years old. You were there in front of the teenager who kissed you at seventeen on a random night after doing homework in your bedroom.

You had decided to conquer the world—or at least the little corner of it that belonged to your shared imagination. As you ran through the streets, giggles and laughter echoing, it happened—the inevitable collision with the ground. Your knees met the pavement, and the sting of scraped skin sent tears streaming down your cheeks.

That's when Joel appeared, like a knight in a tiny superhero cape. His mom, hearing the commotion, had rushed him outside to play. In his hand, he held a box of colorful, cartoon-themed band-aids. With the unwavering confidence of a five-year-old, he approached you.

"Don't cry, okay? I've got something to fix you up," Joel declared, his eyes wide with sincerity.

As he carefully placed a band-aid on your scraped knee, something shifted. It was more than just a simple act of putting on a band-aid; it was the beginning of a connection that would thread through the fabric of your lives for years to come.

"See, all is better!" Joel announced, grinning proudly as if he had just mended the universe. “I’m Joel,” he said happily. “What’s your name?”

You were surprised and speechless; you felt enamored by the kid in front of you, but in your brain, the boy was still gross.

Joel's expression mirrored a mix of surprise and recognition. For a moment, the world seemed to pause as you both stood there, caught in the gravity of your intertwined past.

But it seemed to be the night you were back in the house he had bought with the help of his parents, where you were supposed to grow old together. It looked like that night you came back, hoping to begin again.

But it wasn't, and time didn't stop because two lovers couldn't survive in the currents of the sea.

"Hi, doe," he greeted you, standing up from his seat.

Doe.

"Joel," you greeted back, gracing a small smile.

"Lovie" is forbidden now.

"Please, take a seat," he said, signaling at the seat in front of him.

You didn't know how to react, what to do, or what to say, so you sat on the chair, trying to ease your heart's beating.

Joel's gaze never left your form; instead, it traveled down your figure, but the golden band on your finger stopped his curious gaze, and somehow he felt the urge to cry.

He had always pictured the shiny rock he had bought for you back those years ago, wrapped around your finger.

If he had told you he spent those late nights doing extra work only to buy that piece of jewelry for you, perhaps you would be the one wearing it now, and in this situation, it would be one of those moments you share lunch between your work schedules.

But that shiny ring wrapped echoes of missed opportunities, and the haunting what-ifs painted a poignant portrait of a love that had slipped through his fingers.

You had been waiting, the anticipation mingling with worry as the hands of the clock inched forward. The scent of a hastily prepared dinner lingered in the air, growing colder with each passing minute. Joel's absence, became a palpable presence in the room.

As the door finally creaked open, revealing Joel's figure in the dim light, a wave of emotions crashed over you. The relief of his arrival was quickly overshadowed by the frustration that had been building within.

"Joel, do you have any idea what time it is?" you snapped, the words escaping before you could temper the edge in your voice.

Joel's expression shifted, caught off guard by the sudden confrontation. "I lost track of time at work. I'm sorry," he offered, attempting to diffuse the tension.

The apology, however, fell on ears numbed by the repetition of similar excuses. The words that followed, laden with accusations and frustrations, transformed the night into a battleground of emotions. The promises made in the glow of love were replaced by the harsh reality of unmet expectations.

"I can't do this, Joel. I can't keep waiting for you every night," you uttered your voice a mix of exhaustion and hurt.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration. "I'm doing all of this for us. I'm working hard to provide for our future."

He had never sold the ring; he couldn't do it, thinking you would have come back to your home and built your story from the cracked fragments.

But he had made a mistake; however, that mistake that made you slip through his fingers brought his daughter to him, and he couldn’t find the strength to blame that night anymore.

And he thought that for you, it may have been the same; you have had a daughter too, and he knows that you love her more than life itself.

It was almost poetic; the mistakes that had separated you had, in a strange twist of fate, become the catalyst for a reunion. The bond between Joel and his daughter, the same bond you had with Tara, seemed to mirror the intricate threads that wove your lives together once again.

“So, how have you been?” he began asking.

“I thought you wanted to talk about our daughters,” you replied, deflecting the conversation to the common ground that had brought you back together.

Joel's eyes held a glimmer of nostalgia. "Come on, Doe, you know I care about you."

“Please don’t call me that,” you pleaded in almost a whisper.

Joel's expression shifted, a mix of realization and regret flickering across his features. "I'm sorry," he apologized, the sincerity in his voice evident. "I didn't mean to.”

“But I’ve been fine.” You finally said that, looking at him.

“I’m glad,” he said. “I can’t help but be surprised about you being Tara’s mother."

“Why? Is it too hard to believe I’m a mother?”

Joel's eyes softened, and he shook his head. "No, it's not that. It's just... it's surreal, you know? Seeing you as a mother, I mean, Tara is the same age as Sarah.”

“I got pregnant a few months after we..."

“We broke up,” he said, ending the sentence for you.

“Yes. I met Dwight one night, and I got pregnant.”

“You got over things soon, then,” he added in an undertone.

“What does that mean?” You asked in a defensive tone.

Joel sighed, a mixture of emotions playing across his face. "I didn't mean it like that. It's just... seeing you move on so quickly, it's

"No, tell me!” you exclaimed. “Do you think it was going to be easy for me to stay with you while you take care of another woman who was carrying your baby? 2

“Yet, you still had a daughter with another man.”

“So what? It was forbidden for me to hook up with a guy because I was fucking broke. Yes, I ended up pregnant, but...

“But what?” he inquired.

“It should have been you!" You cried, not knowing why you were acting so childish. "It was always supposed to be you." You repeated, calmer, "Since we were seventeen, I picture you being the father of my child."

Joel's gaze held a mix of surprise and remorse, realizing the depth of your emotions. "Doe, I never meant to hurt you. I had my own struggles, and I made mistakes."

"It's not about the mistakes, Joel," you said, wiping away a tear. "It's about the dreams we had and how they shattered. I loved you, and I imagined a future with you.

The silence that followed was suffocating, filled with the weight of unsaid words and the echoes of a shared past. The restaurant seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of unresolved emotions.

“You know this is repeating again,” you chuckled between tears. “I’m here with you while I’m crying all over again. I had to leave my job and move back to the city that throws the past in my face, and I can’t find a  job."You covered your face with your hands.

Joel's eyes held a mixture of empathy and regret as he listened to your words. The ache of the past lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of the dreams that had slipped through your fingers.

"I wish I could change it all," Joel confessed, his voice heavy with the weight of shared regrets. "I never wanted you to leave, and seeing you hurt now... it hurts me too."

"But we can't go back," you replied with a resigned tone in your voice. "We're both different people now, living different lives. Maybe it's time to accept that some wounds don't fully heal."

“But we can be civil to each other, at least for our daughter’s sake,” he said, his voice soft.

You looked at him, your tear-streaked face reflecting a mixture of pain and acceptance. For a moment, you considered his words, acknowledging the shared responsibility of raising daughters who were connected by a blossoming friendship.

"Yeah," you agreed, a weary smile on your face. "We owe it to them to be civil, to show them that even when things don't work out, people can still be respectful and caring."

Joel nodded, a somber understanding passing between you. At that moment, you both recognized the importance of setting aside personal grievances for the sake of your daughters.

“You know? About the job, Tommy and I need an assistant.”

Your eyes widened at Joel's unexpected offer; the surprise was evident on your face. The mention of a job opportunity brought a glimmer of hope amid the emotional turbulence. It was as if a door, long thought closed, cracked open with the possibility of a new beginning.

"An assistant?" you repeated, the idea taking a moment to sink in. "Are you serious?"

Joel nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, I am. We're expanding, and having you would be nice.”

"I appreciate the offer," you finally said, your voice cautious. "But-

“Just think about it; if you want the job, you can call me tomorrow or go to our office," Joel added, his tone sincere.

“You know what? He asked after your silence, leaning into the table, "You are still looking at me with the same eyes you did before.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his observation. There was a moment of vulnerability in his eyes—a flicker of the past that hadn't entirely dissipated. The connection between you, despite the years and the changes, lingered in the unspoken words that floated in the air.

"I don't know what you mean," you replied, attempting to mask the emotions that swirled within.

Joel chuckled softly, a nostalgic warmth in his gaze. "Doe, you always had this way of seeing through me. Even now, those eyes of yours... they haven't changed."

"I'm married."

“So what? Can’t you have friends? He asked.

“What about Sarah’s mother? Wouldn’t she get mad at you for being with your ex-girlfriend?"

“That’s funny because we’re not together,” he confessed with a weird smile on his face. “We never were together. After Sarah was born, she left us.”

The revelation hung in the air, a mix of surprise and confusion settling between you. The complexity of his past mirrored your own, and in that shared vulnerability, there was an unspoken understanding.

"I'm sorry to hear that," you offered, genuine sympathy in your voice.

"It's okay," Joel replied, a shrug accompanying his words. "She is married to another man, and she had a son, but I won because I had Sarah.”

“It’s fun how our daughters brought us together,” you said calmly.

"It's true," Joel acknowledged, a wistful smile playing on his lips. Our daughters seem to be the common thread weaving through our lives now."

You smiled, feeling butterflies dancing inside your stomach. The closeness to Joel felt foreign yet so familiar, and all the sentiments making your way through your heart were there again, suffocating you.

“I should get going,” you said, out of the blue.

“But you haven't eaten yet.”

“I know, but it’s getting late, and I have to go back to my house.”

"Okay,” he said, knowing you were making a lie to run away again, yet he didn’t pressure you.

"I appreciate you taking the time to talk," Joel said, breaking the silence. "And about the job, just think it over. No pressure. Whatever you decide, I'm here for you, even if it's just as a friend."

“Thank you, Joel,” you smiled.

And when you walked away to leave the restaurant, you stopped by the door just to have a second look at him, and when you turned, he was looking at you just as you knew he would.

You smiled at him, and he smiled back at you, mouthing a quiet "take care" in a language only your interlocked gazes understood.

And once you stepped outside, he was left in the restaurant, following you with his eyes.

You weren't the mother of his friend's daughter, but the girl in two ponytails was crying because of a scratch on her knee.

You were once his best friend,

You were once his lover, but that word was a small portion of what you were to him. No, you weren't his lover, but his twin flame that painted every single day of his life blue—the flame that never allowed him to dream about anybody else but you.

And you were the love of his life.

But Joel would do anything to get back on the first step, just to keep you close. He would rather have you back as his best friend than not have you anymore, even if his heart hurts in the process.

You were never his, but he felt the string pulling you together, just like the unbreakable chain you had hanging around your neck since he had memories of you, and he was going to do things right this time because he wasn't able to play pretend knowing there was no gap between you anymore.

You drove around the city for an hour straight, navigating through the streets. Joel used to drive you around when trying to ease your mood after fights with your parents.

You had taken your love and packed it in a tiny little box to protect your heart from breaking.

And when you stopped outside your house, you cried. You sobbed like a little girl waking up from a nightmare. Joel still echoed in your mind, and you accepted that you would never be able to let that part of your life go, so you sobbed, and in that moment of vulnerability, you allowed yourself to grieve for what was lost.

“Pretty girls shouldn’t cry,” Joel said when you didn’t say your name after his introduction.

As the tears subsided, you took a deep breath, the weight in your chest easing slightly, and you stepped out of your car and walked to your house.

The key turned in the lock, the door creaked open, and you stepped into the coldness of your home. You thought about the offer Joel talked to you about, but accepting would be a suicide, and as tempting as the invitation seemed at the edge of your consciousness. However, spending more hours of the day seeing him seemed like being unfaithful to your husband.

As you walked into the living room, Tara glanced up from her phone, and you noticed the concern in her eyes.

"Hi, mom," Tara said, greeting you with a smile on her face.

"Hey, sweets," you said, smiling back at her.

"How was it with Joel?" she asked, setting aside her phone.

"It was... complicated," you admitted, sinking onto the couch beside her.

Tara placed a supportive hand on your shoulder. "Complicated how?"

"He offered me a job," you explained, "and it's not an easy decision to make."

"A job? Why?" Tara asked, her curiosity piqued.

"He thought it could be a good opportunity for us," you replied, choosing your words carefully.

Tara's eyes widened in realization.

“To rekindle our friendship,” you said, before she thought badly of you.

"Are you considering it?"

You sighed, grateful for your daughter's understanding. "I don't know, sweetheart. It's a lot to think about. It's not just a job; it's a connection to our past, to him."

Tara nodded thoughtfully. "Well, whatever you decide, I'm here for you. Just make sure it's what you want.”

“And what about your dad?” you asked

“He is not your boss."

Tara's straightforward response made you chuckle. "No, he's not. But he's my husband, and I should consider his feelings too."

Tara rolled her eyes. "Mom, you're allowed to have a life outside of being a wife.”

You admired Tara's maturity, appreciating the clarity in her perspective. "You've grown into a wise young woman, you know that?"

A hint of a smile touched Tara's lips. "Well, I've had a good teacher." She leaned in for a hug, and you embraced her, thankful for the bond you shared.

You found yourself alone with your thoughts. The house was quiet, and the decision about Joel's job offer lingered in the air like a delicate whisper. You knew it wasn't just about work; it was about revisiting a past that had shaped you in ways you couldn't deny.

Later, after Tara had gone to do her homework, you found yourself alone with your thoughts. The house was quiet, still not in sight of Dwight coming home, and the decision about Joel's job offer lingered in the air like a delicate whisper. You knew it wasn't just about work; it was about revisiting a past that had shaped you in ways you couldn't deny.

Taking a deep breath, you picked up your phone and dialed Joel's number. The call rang for a few moments, and then his voice filled the silence. "Hello?"

"Hi, Joel. It's me," you said, the hesitation evident in your voice.

"Doe?" he responded, surprised.

"What did I say about calling me that?" you asked, with a tiny smile on your face.

“Right. I’m sorry”

"I've been thinking about your job offer. Can we meet tomorrow at your workplace to talk about it?"

A brief pause followed, and then Joel replied, "Of course, I'll text you the address.”

"Okay,” you said. “See you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow,” he replied. “Take care.”

The call ended, leaving you with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty about what was coming into your life again.

Towards the end of the conversation, Tommy glanced at Joel with a skeptical smile on his face. "Do we really need an assistant?" he inquired, unaware of his brother's hidden intentions.

"No," Joel replied, a smile playing on his lips. "But we're going to have one."

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @missladym1981

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller series #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel x reader #Joel Miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascar character imagine #pedro pascal

[jazjelspen]

leaving on wild charted waters [pt.7]

(what if our mc just got tired of Night Raven College and it's inhabitants?)

(mc just-- can't get a break.. can they?..)

(I AM BACKK RAHHHH i'm so sorry with how long this took!! real life has been really weird and troublesome for too long but I'm now back and ready to write some more! hope people are still interested in this series because i'm getting ready to wrap this series up really soon to begin more one shots and another future series. for those that have waited for this long for chapter 7.... THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! literally i'm so thankful you have sticked around THIS long despite my hiatus. since because of you guys, I still want to keep writing more here :) now let's get this going!)

(not proofread, all your house leaders are mentioned!)

(requested tags: @bottomjamilsupremacy @abyssqueen @time-shardz @a-very-bored-mika @obeymediasimp @sarah22447 @cuentademeri @twistedcece @paintingeels)

(if you want to be tagged in future chapters please comment or message me! I will only tag you if you directly ask for it and I will only tag you once unless you asked to be tagged on all future chapters of a particular series.)

five weeks in Royal Sword Academy, during the fifth week all you've been doing is resting from the event that was the ball. your injuries were not an issue since Raps healed them up fast with his magic but he couldn't exactly heal the emotional wounds that reopened again.

everyone in RSA pitied you for the situation that you got stuck into, a magicless human almost crushed by the falling tower that suddenly got covered in thorns. people made up so many rumors, people said that the house leaders of NRC didn't like that you, the former prefect of their school, left in favor of their rival school so in spite they set an attack on RSA. others said you weren't even involved and that it was just their rivalry getting out of hand on Night Raven's part.. and why Night Raven College in particular? that was because few residents from Briar Valley that attend RSA recognized the thorns to be from their home kingdom.. their prince's thorns. either way you just avoided answering questions and no one exactly pushed you for answers, but the rumors went out of hand way too fast, so fast that now the headmaster of RSA had to pause his research to find a way back home for you to then try to ask NRC if any of their students came to their school because of how many RSA students were taking the stories just.. too far.

you had a fairly.. ominous morning. the clouds seemed grayer than usual but you passed it on as the sky just being the sky. you saw the ship that took you from NRC to RSA come back aboard and settle down which made you curious but didn't let it bother you. other small little misfortunes included your food falling on the floor, your favorite morning drink tasting weird or spilling on you, your appearance looking more tired than usual no matter how much you try to cover it, and then your shoes keep getting untied no matter what way you tie them.

but here you are now, as you walked through the school to occupy your time in doing something while classes were going on (p.s you were allowed to go into classes you were interested in with permission) but today you just simply felt like walking to let out some steam. you looked through your new phone gifted to you by the headmaster and read through the frenzy of comments from RSA students about the event, luckily it's been dying down a bit but it's clearly not stopping.

"do you think the house leaders from NRC could've really done it? could they have gotten that angry?"

"I dunno. I just know that those thorns look like the ones from briar valley or from that one dark and green dorm from the school."

"either way it'd be petty for them to send the literal prince or house leader all the way here just for that :b" "dude r u fr y would they send the prince" "it low-key high-key ruined the dance for me and my friends completely tbh" "same :("

you sighed at the comments since you felt a knot of guilt in your stomach. you too felt like the ordeal ruined the dance for you and your friends but the only thing that kept you from descending more was that they still mentioned all the time how fun it was even if the end was a disaster.

speaking of your friends.. only they knew who it was that visited you and why. they kept your secret since they knew how much of a sensitive subject it is for you and they admitted they didn't want to see you be blamed for this even if it wasn't even your fault in the first place.

"Gee.." you blurted out while putting your phone back in your bag after putting it on silent "NRC this.. Night Raven that.. so sick of hearing their nam--"

BOOM!

You bumped into someone!

You stumbled back a bit with how strong the hit was, it was as if this person was running but was also really.. strong?? because of how hard it was.

"I'm so sorry!-- " you apologized while getting back on your feet "i'm really sorry I didn't think anyone was out right now during classes! I--" you blinked a few times to look at the person with a look of embarrassment on your face.

oh it was actually two people, that explains the force.

one had orange hair and the other had dark blue hair, how familiar.

wait--

red heart on the right eye, black spade on the left--

no fucking way.

"prefect! we've found yo--!"

"no."

you turned your heels immediately after interrupting the red head while speeding up your pace. the amount of fucks you have left are way below zero and you weren't ready for this after last week.

"______! wait- we need to talk!-" exclaimed the spade for your attention but of course you didn't give.

"no no no nononono-- not today- not right now-- I can't fucking do this right now." you sped your walking more but you bumped shoulders with someone this time that stunted your walking but didn't make you stumble like the first time. except this person gave you a low lion kind of grumble.

"watch it herbivore!--" this deep and irritated voice snapped at you but it seems like they stopped their sentence too soon.

you two locked eyes and you never felt more dread in one single moment than today.

"______?.." the prince of Sunset Savanna spoke out your name in a gentle kind of tone that seemed absolutely abnormal to you coming from him of all people. his face contorted into one of disbelief yet care.. it weirded you out so much on how he spoke and looked at you as if he missed you to death. a vague look on his face that can only be described as if he was a kicked puppy.

but god.. Ace, Deuce, now Leona?? your speed walking turned into immediate jogging.

your self mumbling was shaky and panicked, all you wanted to do was get away "why why why--" you jogged across the halls while trying not to be too loud to disrupt any classes but you knew that perhaps ongoing classes would be concerned over the several voices in the background calling your name. you were about to open the door to the courtyard until an arrow was shot right above where your hand was jiggling the door handle. you looked back to see your shooter to see two infamous blondes.

"mon cher.. my dear trickster!" the bob cut blonde exclaimed in happiness and joy that you have never seen before in so long from him. as if he literally did not almost shoot your hand with one of those arrows of his.

meanwhile the other blonde with purple tints at the ends of his hair, looked at you with a very sour scowl. "you." you heard the queen of Pomefiore spit the word in your way "Rook, it seems like you missed."

that last line from Vil gave you chills down your spine which caused you to jiggle the knob quicker "this cannot get any fucking worse!!--" you yelled in frustration as you finally were able to open and stumble out the door with Rook and the others you passed by exclaiming or whining(that's just Rook lol) at you to stop.

you ran down the long flight of stairs to the courtyard to escape all these pains in the butt but Lady Luck just seriously wanted to see you fail today since as you were closer to descending you finally felt your left foot feel somewhat lighter. you looked down to finally notice that your darn shoe was missing! you looked up to try and find it but at the very top of the stairs of course the hunter had it right in his hands, flaunting and showing it off to you from the top of the staircase.

"yoohoo!~ trickster! I may have something you need!~" Rook taunted you playfully.

"keep it! I don't need some shoe to get away from all of you!" you spat before you turned to continue on running with only your left sock and right shoe to carry you on.

you could hear Ace and Deuce whine with how many stairs there are but they kept on running down. Leona on the other hand with much more stamina and agility than them despite his daily and constant naps was able to catch up further than the ace and spade ever could. the lion's panting and footsteps were getting closer and closer as you were heading towards your dorm but considering how far it was and how close he was you were starting to feel pessimistic.

but you always had friends in high places.

"_______!! Up here!!" a familiar and this time comforting voice yelled out your name from a high up dorm you were about to run past. Raps quickly let down his long golden hair from his dorm window up high and you couldn't help but to smile like an idiot now knowing what to do. Leona noticed this and tried to quicken his pace but as you neared to the hair of your lifesaver with much more adrenaline than ever before you finally forced your body to leap and jump onto the golden locks of your friend, and just as fast as you intertwined your arms, legs, hands, and fingers into the hair you were now quickly being pulled up to safety with Leona immediately frozen in his spot while looking up at you getting farther and farther away from him.

you looked down at him with a look of pity because of the sorry expression on his face.. but in the end you didn't care. you stopped caring long ago anyway.

as you were taken up you could hear distant voices calling out to you again but you didn't face them and instead hugged your savior.

"Raps!-" you smiled all silly as you were trying to catch your breath and wipe the sweat away from your brows and forehead. "I owe you my life! I really couldn't face them again--"

Raps chuckled lightly as he gently patted your head and took you in his arms, not caring about the sweat and heat coming off of you. "I saw them arrive from the ship this morning and I knew that at some point you'd need me so I prepared for anything." soon enough you backed up to be able to breathe properly and truly savor in the temporary victory for today but despite pulling away Raps gently brushed down your hair to settle down the crazy strands from all that running you had and even wiped some of your sweat with his sleeve. "they chased you like a pack of wolves from up here-- kind of scary to be honest.."

you groaned in annoyance "i KNOW!! it's crazy! as if simply ghosting and leaving the school WASN'T ENOUGH!-- I'm so exhausted of this I can't--do this anymore Raps.." the adrenaline pumped into your heart and ears and you felt your hands started shaking whilst you raised your voice in exhaustion. the way your eyes scattered and looked up and down, right and left-- just simply the way you were anxious made Raps concerned.

your friend immediately grabbed you by your shoulders to get you back together, gently shaking you "_______!.." and when you still seemed not all there yet he then went to hold your face this time "______!!" he exclaimed as he then finally was able to catch your attention "maybe you need to rest for awhile.."

you nodded but gave him a vague and questionable look "aren't you supposed to be in class?"

Raps rolled his eyes playfully "i am in class, my dad is also my teacher remember. in a way this is my study hall time."

you laughed a bit "right.. damn.. I really do need to sleep."

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

the rest of the day was sort of hectic.. of course you took your nap while leaning on Raps while he studied after that heck of a chase. now after him helping you go back to your dorm to get another pair of shoes you're here walking with Raps to his next class, outside of the safety of the dorms, but you knew that when Neige, Alex, and Rielle would find the two of you then you'd have nothing to fear.

you looked from side to side cautiously with your anxiety rising up with the pace of your eyes going back and forth.

"you'll be fine _____..." mumbled the golden blonde "I'm right here with you remember, if they decide to speak to you I promise I'll do the speaking for you." he gave you his charming smile which made you feel a bit of relief.

"thanks raps.. but it's not just them speaking to me that frightens me.." you whispered as you hid close to him. you felt more anxious the longer you felt several pairs of eyes staring at you here and there.

"well let's just think on the positive. from here on out until they leave you'll stay with us from the beginning of the morning till the end of the day, so they won't be shouting your name every few seconds." Raps suggested but you simply laughed back.

"as if i'm not already stuck to the hip to all four of you everyday of almost every hour."

both of you laughed together at your comment, feeling a heavy weight lift off your shoulders a bit at the joking and the reliability of your friend.

you both calmed down and ended the small giggling frenzy with a sigh before you started to speak "let's just hope I don't get to see any of them too much today, I wouldn't want to throw up whatever I ate last time for when I see them.."

in the next few moments your friend Rielle finally approached you guys! great timing Rielle!

"hey guys!" he chirped "how have your days been! good I hope?" Rielle started small talk with you two in order to cheer up the atmosphere.. since the talk about NRC students on RSA campus grounds have been swirling around and making the group feel uneasy.. but you didn't really know that yet.

after discussing about eachotehrs days, explaining your chase and everything in between. Rielle gave you this look, it seemed almost pitiful and kind of as if he needed to tell you something. you gave him a confused look with an awkward smile. "what's up Rielle? never seen you look this nervous before.." your friend seemed a bit caught off guard and returned the awkward smile back to you.

"ah!- well.. shrimpy.. I almost don't want to tell you because it makes me feel a little.. upset." he shrugged with the emotion in his eye of wanting to hold back. "the words may get a bit stuck in my throat but. well--"

you looked at him in immediate interest, the thoughts in your head wondering what he needs to say.. and why it's taking so long..

"the headmaster needs to see you. he said he's made an immense break through in the search of finding a way back home for you. that maybe-- you'll finally be able to go back where you came from." the red head seemed to get more upset the more he went on, the exact opposite of your reaction.

you smiled, you were excited-- you were finally going home! back to what you truly know and love!

but what about your friends?..what about your new friends? what's gonna happen to them? you've all gotten so close in the past five weeks together. is this really the time to leave back home now?

you looked at both Raps and Rielle with this look on your face that only said one thing: I need to talk to the headmaster. they both gave you a tiny smile that seemed to try to mask the glum feeling they both had in this situation that is now unfolding before them. and before you could think your legs started running and your heart again was beating out of your chest. not because you were being chased or yelled at but because for once you felt a sense of true and honest optimism about your situation.. after months of being trapped in this world. every sharp turn, every step, every shoulder bump, every gentle shove and half-hearted apologies made your heart feel alive and more excited than ever about this. you could almost smell the air of your home, see the colors of your room, touch and feel the fabrics, rough, soft, rigid edges of every corner inside your house.

and while your friends watched you run, Rielle could feel a drop of water down his face. he touched it and saw it was coming down from his eye.. weird. he pressed the water in between his thumb and index finger. ahh now he remembers-- he's heard of something like this, a human function in which the body is able to produce water from the eyes when one is feeling intense emotion.. but he felt so distraught, as if he was grieving yet no one has left him yet.

'is this what they call a tear?'

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

after reaching the top of the final flight of stairs you stared down at the headmaster's office doors. the smile on your face widened as you turned both knobs and pushed your body against the doors.

"headmaster Ambrose!! you said you wanted to se--'

oh dear mc, I'm so sorry.

you looked around the entire room and every one of the house leaders in Night Raven College are present there, statures tall, intimidating, sour, fond, confused. along with their reliable vice dorm leaders by their side.

Riddle Rosehearts gave you a glum and pitiful look yet that lasted for a second before he tried to seem stern and serious while looking away with his vice dorm leader, Trey, bedside him.

Leona Kingscholar, back again, also pretended to be serious and uninterested about this situation but you could tell he was trying to catch a small peak of you with his vice dorm leader, Ruggie, beside him watching.

Azul Ashengrotto has a kind of look on his face that clearly held a grudge but every single time he stole a gaze at you it's as if his eyes softened ever so slightly, even his vice dorm leader, Jade, easily caught this.

Kalim Al-Asim was more than happy to see you, he obviously tried to keep himself from speaking but his appreciation for you seemed to have never faltered for a second. His vice dorm leader, Jamil, stood behind him as he usually does.

Vil Schoenheiht was the one with the biggest scowl and petty look on his face. not daring to even peek at you but it was obvious that despite him being an actor that it was easy to see through this act of him hating you and wanted to never see you again. His vice dorm leader, Rook, simply complimented you from afar and also seemed to be awing you from across the room.

Idia Shroud was present.. what a shock-- this has never happened usually unless you were involved but he seemed to hide his face away with his hood and pretended to be occupied in a video game when in reality he couldn't even focus on the game he tried to use as a distraction from you. His vice dorm leader/brother, Ortho Shroud, just gave you a happy smile, also quietly very happy to see your face.

Then theres.. Malleus Draconia, you've seen him just a week ago and he also looked down shamefully. as if he couldn't bear to see your face in fear of disappointment and hate. despite this his vice dorm leader, Lilia gave you a small smile but tried to focus on Malleus and the meeting at hand.

"______ my dear! so long no see! thank you so much for getting here to talk to us!" headmaster Crowley cheered as he welcomed you in the office along with headmaster Ambrose by his side. "you see the headmaster to Royal Sword Academy wanted to talk to me about a few unrelated things. internet frenzies and such! but then we got distracted and talked more about you."

you stared at Crowley intensely, afraid of looking towards the other house leaders you used to be almost fond of a bit back then, but of course you put yourself over whatever fondness you had.

"he talked about his research in finding you a way back home, and luckily for you Night Raven College's house leaders wanted to present to him and yourself as well a way they found you to go back home!"

You stared at Crowley after he finished his sentence, there was a long pause, maybe an awkward cough in-between. "so you're saying.." you could feel the words get caught in your throat "that everyone here.. the house leaders.. found ways to get me home?.."

Crowley hummed in slight thought "Not exactly my dear, they all worked together to find you one straight path back to your home! turns out all they missed was just the research that headmaster Ambrose has right here!" he let out one of his signature chuckles "even from afar you still managed to be NRC's prefect! making the housleaders work together for a way back home for you! now that's magic."

your mouth was slightly agape as you slowly looked at everyone in disbelief. "you really did that for me?.. despite everything you all did to me when I was still there and everything I did to get away?.." everyone either looked down or straight ahead to avoid your gaze or even nodded gently. no words were spoken or needed at the moment.

you took a moment to breathe and let the gravity of the situation sink into your skin. an inhale and exhale later you finally let yourself say your next few words,

"how do I get back home?"

(CHAPTER 7 IS OUT!!! thank you so much for being patient and waiting for me to finally be able to post this chapter! I hope it came out alright to better! I had fun with this chapter especially since I'm now planning the seeds to the end of this series, thank you for the love and I hope you enjoyed this!)

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #disney twst #twst #twst angst #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #disney twst x reader #twisted wonderland angst #malleus hcs #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus x reader #malleus x yuu #twisted wonderland malleus #diasomnia #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #riddle twst #riddle twisted wonderland #deuce #vil #idia #ruggie #rook hunt #leona kingscholar x mc #leona kingscholar #vil shoenheit #twst leona #leona kingscholar x reader

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Choso x Reader Fanfic Part 1

When your younger sister is tricked into selling herself to the Doll House, you rush there to help her, only to find her being led away by her trainer, Choso. Moved by your desire to save your sister, he convinces the owner to let you take her place.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Choso’s. I’m keeping the tag list from previous parts. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. FemDom. Sub Choso. Oral sex. Foot kissing. Divider by @benkeibear!

Your phone won’t stop buzzing. Even with the sound turned off, it’s making a racket in your bag, disturbing the important meeting you’re in. With a sigh, you slip it out to look at the Lock Screen. Your younger sister has sent you several messages. Wondering what kind of trouble she’s gotten herself into this time, you tap the latest message to open all of them. 

“Sis, I need your help! It’s an emergency!!!!”

“Yosaku is in trouble with his dad. He needs money right now or the old man’s gonna kill him!!”

“We’re at the Doll House. Yosaku says he’ll win big at the next race and buy out my contract.”

“Guess I’m a doll now! Why won’t you answer me?! This is important!!!”

“The owner went to find a trainer for me. God, I hope I don’t get the BDSM guy!”

“Sis, I’m scared!!! Yosaku left and I don’t think he’s coming back!”

You clench the phone in your hand so hard, you almost break it. 

“Fucking Yosaku!” you shout, then notice the dozen pairs of eyes that all immediately shift to you. You’re so enraged that you forgot you’re in a meeting. You apologize and excuse yourself, quickly leaving the office building where you work and heading toward the Doll House.

Your sister has been dating the son of a small time Yakuza boss for a little over six months now, and the two bit wannabe gangster has already ruined her life. 

Before meeting Yosaku, your sister was always so sweet and never got into trouble. Despite only being four years older than her, you practically raised her. She’s the only family you have, and as such, you’re fiercely protective of her. 

So when she introduced you to Yosaku, six years her senior, good looking in a “bad boy” sort of way, and with a terrible personality, you knew he was bad news. The fact that they started dating almost immediately after she turned eighteen was a big red flag. It’s like he was waiting for her, like a vulture. 

She started getting into trouble within two weeks of meeting him. She got caught shoplifting items he instructed her to take (and he of course fled the scene when she was spotted). He got mad and ditched her in a dangerous part of town one night. He talked her into gambling away all her money. And a whole list of other things. Each time, you had to go and rescue her.  And each time, you begged her to dump him before he got her into real, serious trouble. 

Now she’s at the Doll House? Unbelievable! How could he convince her to give up ten years of her life for him?! You can only hope you make it there in time to stop the sale. 

When you barge in the front door, past a front desk with a startled receptionist, and into a large circular room, you find your sister. She’s being led away by a pale man with a strange hairstyle, and she looks like a deer in the headlights. 

“Stop!” you scream, rushing forward and ripping your sister’s arm out of the man’s hand. “Don’t touch my sister, you pervert!”

You don’t know a whole lot about the Doll system or the Doll House, but everyone knows the basics. The men here train women to be sex toys, usually with some bizarre fetish. A friend once told you a guy here makes his dolls crawl on the ground like a dog while wearing a butt plug. Unimaginable! 

The man looks at you, seeming confused. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not anyone suspicious. I’m just her trainer.”

You place yourself in front of your sister, blocking his view of her. “You think I’m gonna let you train her to do depraved… sex stuff? I won’t let you hurt her!”

“I’m not going to hurt her,” he says, looking a little hurt himself that you would suggest such a thing. “My job is to prepare her to be a doll. I’m helping her.”

He seems so honest, but you can’t let yourself be fooled. “I don’t care what your job is. You can’t have my sister! Look at her, she’s just eighteen! She’s practically a baby! She’s still a virgin! You can’t turn her into-“

“Actually, sis, I’m not a virgin,” you hear your sister say behind you, making you wince. You assumed so, but it sucks to have it confirmed. Fucking Yosaku. 

You look at her over your shoulder. “That’s not important right now.” Then you turn back to the man. “Please, don’t take her. She’s the only family I have. She has her whole life ahead of her.”

The trainer’s face softens slightly, as if he feels bad for you. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but she already signed the contract. There’s nothing I can do.”

“But there has to be some way out of this! Her lowlife boyfriend coerced her!”

“What’s going on in here?” a voice asks. 

All of you look over to see a silver haired woman standing just inside the room. She’s holding a silk fan in one hand, the breathless receptionist standing beside her. 

“Who are you?” you ask her. 

She flips a long braid over her shoulder. “I’m the owner of this establishment. And if you’re here to stop a sale, you’re too late. Unless you want to pay some rather punishing fees for breaking the contract.”

You narrow your eyes. “Just how much are these fees?”

The owner snaps her fingers, and the receptionist scurries to grab a pen and paper. The owner writes something on it and the receptionist presents it to you. She wasn’t kidding when she said they were punishing! You’d never be able to pay this back! Even with your pretty good job. Your sister’s credit would be ruined forever. And you’d have to work yourself to the bone and you’d probably still lose everything. 

Your mind races. Think! Think! There has to be a way out of this! An idea pops into your mind. A terrible one, but it’s the only one you have at the moment. 

“What if I take her place?” you ask. 

Your sister steps out from behind you to look you in the face. “Sis, no, this is my-“

“Just be quiet,” you hiss, using the sort of tone you took while caring for her as a child. The “angry mother” tone, she called it. She falls silent. 

The owner looks you up and down. “I don’t know… We’ve never done something like that before.”

You get down on your knees, looking up at the owner with a pleading expression. “Please! My sister is young and naive. She can’t handle life as a doll. But I can! As the older sister, it’s my responsibility to protect her!”

Beside the owner, the trainer’s eyes widen. Then, suddenly, he moves over and gets down to his knees right next to you, bowing his head low. 

“I’m asking as well,” he says to the owner, shocking you. “Out of respect for her wanting to protect her sister, could you let them trade places? The older sister would be more suited to my training anyway.”

The owner looks slightly flustered to be met with such old fashioned, formal pleas. But she sighs and says, “Alright, I’ll go get the paperwork fixed up.”

As she walks away, the trainer stands up, then offers you his hand. Still somewhat in shock, you take it and let him help you up. 

“Thanks,” you tell him. “But why did you help me?”

He gives you a subtle smile. “I understand wanting to protect a younger sibling. I have a little brother I would do anything for.”

Wow, he’s actually pretty cute… for a sex crazed pervert. It just now occurs to you that he’s going to be your trainer now. This cute guy is going to be doing all sorts of depraved things to you! 

Your sister hugs you suddenly, her face wet with tears. “You didn’t have to do that! This was my problem!”

You pull away from her and stroke her hair. “Yes, I did have to do this. Just promise me one thing: that you’ll stay away from Yosaku. He’s dangerous! The next time he gets you into trouble, I won’t be there to help. Don’t make what I’m doing be for nothing.”

Your sister nods. “I promise! I’m all done with him!”

After reading over and signing all the paperwork, you and your sister say your goodbyes. Then you turn to your trainer and say. “Well, I’m all yours.”

He reaches out and gently takes your hand, then leads you down a hallway. He actually seems… sweet? You can’t imagine him doing perverted things to you. But he is a trainer here. Sooner or later, this man is going to have sex with you. You’re not some blushing virgin, but the thought still makes you a little embarrassed. 

Once inside his room, he shuts the door behind the two of you. His room looks surprisingly neat, clean, and comfortable. No crazy props or weird toys hanging on the walls. Thank goodness. 

“Feel free to sit down,” he says, gesturing toward a pair of chairs on either side of a small table. 

You walk over and take a seat, watching him a bit warily. You still don’t know what kind of fetish he specializes in. 

“I’ll tell you about my training,” he says, as if he can read your mind. You sit up straight in the chair to listen as he goes on. “I train women to be Doms. Dominant. I will call you Mistress. My name is Choso but you can call me whatever you like. I will do anything you tell me to. For the next six weeks, I belong to you. Oh, before you ask, I can’t get you out of the contract. That’s up to the owner, not me.”

Wait. What? He’s training you to be a Dom? You’ve heard the term before, but it conjures up an image of a woman in a black leather corset, cracking a whip. You’re supposed to do that stuff with him? 

“So, you’ll do anything I ask?”

He nods. “As long as it doesn’t violate any of the house rules, and is within my power.”

That doesn’t sound so bad. But you’re not naive. You know this is supposed to lead to things of a sexual nature. This is the Doll House after all. But at least you’ll probably get to do things at your own pace. You feel yourself relaxing slightly. 

“Can you get me a cup of coffee?” you ask, curious to see how he responds. 

“Of course, Mistress. How would you like it?”

“Hot. Heavy on the cream, no sugar.”

He gives you a small bow of his head. “Right away, Mistress.”

You watch him leave the room, then exhale deeply. Why does any doll trained by him ever do any of the sex stuff? Why not just make him rub your feet and bring you snacks for six weeks? You suppose that would defeat the purpose of being trained. What was it he called it? Preparing you to be a doll? Whoever your owner ends up being, he’s definitely going to expect some sex stuff. 

But do you have to initiate it? Command Choso to sleep with you? You can’t imagine doing that. 

He walks back in with a steaming cup and reaches it to you as if he’s a butler. You glance up at him, and you think he’d look really good in a butler uniform. 

You noticed it before, but he’s really cute. He’s like a quiet goth guy without the piercings. His hair is styled into two short ponytails, one on either side of his head. It’s not a style you’ve seen before, but it looks good on him. His clothes are a bit baggy, making you curious about what’s under them. 

The coffee is delicious, and Choso watches you drink it silently. After you sit the cup down, he asks, “Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

You think for a moment. “You’ll do anything? Even if it’s something embarrassing or demeaning?”

“Of course, Mistress.”

You frown. “I don’t know. It seems wrong to force you to do things.”

A gentle smile appears on his face. “If you’re concerned about consent, please don’t worry. I work here voluntarily because I like doing stuff like this. I’m happy to do anything you want. No matter what it is.”

There’s an eagerness in his voice that makes your heart beat fast. You take a deep breath and say, “Kiss my foot!”

You really just want to test whether he’ll actually do anything you say or not, and this seems like a relatively tame command. Actually it’s not sexual at all. 

Or so you think, until Choso gracefully drops to his knees in front of you and, oh so gently, removes your high heeled shoe from your right foot. Then his hands move to your thigh, sliding just under your skirt. You start to yell at him, but then you realize he’s pulling your stocking down, slowly sliding it down your leg and off your foot. 

His eyes lock onto yours as he carefully lifts your foot up in his hand, holding it up close to his face. He licks his lips, then presses them softly to the top of your foot as his hand caresses your ankle. 

Oh wow. Okay, you kind of get how this all turns sexual. Choso on his knees in front of you, so eager to please, is doing things to you. 

He stands back up, the tiniest hint of a grin on his pale face. He knows what he’s doing. He wouldn’t be a very good trainer if he didn’t. “Is there anything else you’d like me to do, Mistress?”

Your heart is racing. You feel your face heating up. Fuck, did he just seduce you with a single kiss to your foot? You cough awkwardly and look away from his pretty face. 

“I’m not sure what else to make you do,” you say, then quickly add, “What would you do if I told you to strip?”

He instantly begins pulling his loose fitting shirt over his head. 

“Wait! I wasn’t serious! I was just messing around!” you yell, but his shirt is already off, dangling from his hand. Your eyes drink in his well defined torso, surprised by how toned he is. A cute face and a hot body? Plus he’s sweet and gentle? Is this guy the total package or what? 

You shake your head. You can’t let yourself fall for him. He’s your trainer. He’s done this same stuff, and much more, with lots of other women. And besides, in six weeks you’ll belong to someone else. You just hope whoever that is has half of Choso’s charm. 

“I’m sorry, Mistress, I thought you wanted me to undress,” he says, pulling his shirt back on. Why does he sound a little disappointed? 

Now you really want to see what he’s packing beneath those baggy pants, but you can’t bring yourself to command him to show you. Not so soon after meeting him anyway. 

“It’s my fault,” you tell him. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

He smiles at you. It’s a very warm expression. “Please don’t worry about it, Mistress. I’m here to please you.”

*************************

Choso watches his new doll as she stands up and looks around the room. This will be her room for the next six weeks, so it’s good for her to familiarize herself with it. 

“Can I go get some of my things from home?” she asks. 

“Yes. You can leave the house so long as you come back by nightfall. That’s one of the house rules. If you go out at night, I have to go with you.”

She looks at her watch. “I guess I’ll just go tomorrow,” she says. “So what do we do for dinner?”

“There’s a dining hall where we all usually eat our meals,” he tells her, then goes on to explain what times meals are served and tells her about the small shared kitchen. He goes over some more house rules and also warns her that the other trainers all have their own styles, so she shouldn’t be surprised to see naked dolls or dolls in strange outfits.

She seems to be taking it all in fairly well. 

For dinner, she opts to stay in his room while he fetches plates, saying she isn’t quite ready to meet everyone else. She also tells him to eat at the small table in his room with her. Some dolls, perhaps angry about being dolls in the first place, order him to sit on the floor and eat. It doesn’t bother Choso, but he does think his new doll seems nice so far. 

“So you have a little brother?” she asks over dinner. 

He looks up from his plate, somewhat surprised. Some dolls ask a few basic questions at first, just to get to know him a little, but this one managed to get straight to his favorite topic. He smiles and says, “Yes. His name is Yuji.”

Her face looks kind, pretty, as she asks, “How old is he?”

“Nine,” he answers. “He’s a very energetic child, but he’s very sweet.”

She’s smiling, perhaps thinking of her sister. “He sounds adorable. Do you get to spend much time with him?”

Choso lowers his eyes to his food. “Not as much as I like. We only share one parent, and both of his have died. He lives with his grandfather now. I visit him as much as I can, and he visits me here occasionally. Oh, don’t worry, he doesn’t understand what I do here.”

They talk for a while longer, Choso eventually getting his phone and showing her pictures of Yuji. And he almost forgets, for a few moments, that she’s a doll and he’s her trainer. For those few moments, they’re just two older siblings smiling and talking. 

When night falls, Choso goes to take a shower. When he steps out, dressed in cozy sweats with his wet hair grazing his shoulders, his doll looks at him strangely. 

“Is something wrong?” he asks her, drying his hair with a towel. 

She blinks then averts her eyes. “No, nothing’s wrong,” she says, looking a little embarrassed before adding, “You look nice with your hair down.”

His doll decides to sleep in her clothes tonight, refusing his offer to wear something of his. And when it’s time to go to bed, he asks, “Where would you like me to sleep, Mistress?”

She wears a puzzled expression. “Uh, the bed?”

“Most dolls tell me not to sleep in the bed with them on the first night. I suppose they’re nervous, me being a stranger to them.”

She shrugs. “It’s your bed. It wouldn’t be right to force you out of it. Just don’t touch me and it’ll be fine.”

He stares at her. “You trust me already?”

She smiles as she climbs into his bed, staying on one side. “I think anyone who loves his little brother as much as you love Yuji can’t be a bad person.”

Choso feels his heart skip a beat, but he keeps his face neutral as he gets into bed, keeping a respectful distance from his doll. 

**********************

Two days later, you find yourself sitting in a chair in Choso’s room. He’s standing nearby, waiting for you to tell him to do something. These past couple of days, you’ve had him give you foot rubs, massage your shoulders, and brush your hair. All things pointedly not sexual. But in every case, Choso has made innocent actions seem incredibly sensual. 

The way his hands touch you, the way his eyes look at you with desire, they make you want to order him to fuck you right now. But you can’t do that. You’ve been trying to think of a way to make the orders you give him more sexy, but it’s difficult for you to just tell a man you barely know to start doing sexy things to you. 

You thought he was supposed to teach you how to be a Dom, but when you said that, he replied with, “It’s much better to just learn by experiencing things. So please tell me what you want me to do.”

Which was no help at all. You’re starting to think Choso isn’t a very good teacher. 

If he would just tell you what he wants, what he’d like for you to order him to do, this would be far less awkward! 

Wait. That might work!

“Choso,” you say, and he seems to perk up a bit at the sound of his name. “If you could pick one thing for me to tell you to do, what would it be?”

He smiles mildly. “I’d love to do anything you tell me to do, Mistress.”

“No. Give me a real, honest answer. This is an order from your Mistress. What would you most want to be ordered to do right now?”

He looks at you for a moment, then his eyes seem to get darker, a very slight pink flush to his cheeks. “What I’d most like to be ordered to do,” he says, keeping eye contact with you, “is to pleasure you with my mouth. To get on my knees in front of you while you spread your legs and stand over me, to taste you, to use my tongue to make you cum, over and over, until your legs give out.”

Oh shit. Are you seriously already wet just from hearing him talk about eating you out? There’s a hunger in his eyes, and you feel heat creeping across your face, your breaths quickening. Just imagining his pretty face buried between your thighs is making you horny as hell. 

“Okay then,” you say, standing up and trying to keep your voice steady, trying to sound confident and in charge even though you feel like you’re about to melt into a puddle of goo, “do it. Pleasure me… with your mouth.”

The way his cute, pale face lights up! He drops to his knees on the spot, and slowly crawls over to you. When he reaches you, he puts his hands on your thighs and carefully slides your skirt down, looking you in the eyes as he does it. 

“Mistress, may I please remove your panties?” he asks. 

You feel like you can barely breathe as you nod and say, “Yes, you may.”

His gentle hands rub upwards, until they reach the top of your lace panties, and then he eases them down your legs, helping you to step out of them once they reach the floor. This leaves you standing in his room, naked from the waist down, while he kneels in front of you. 

“Mistress, can you spread your legs?”

You feel your face burning as you move your feet further apart, giving him an eye full of your dripping pussy. He looks at it, then at your face, then licks his lips as if he’s about to dig into a tasty meal. 

And boy does he dig in! He runs his tongue up your slit, collecting any juices he can, then uses his fingers to open your folds. He takes a moment to look at your most private place, then says, “You’re beautiful, Mistress,” before slowly licking your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, then his lips wrap around it, and you can almost hear him slurping at your wetness. 

You look down at his face, only the top half visible, and his eyes shift up to yours. They’re half lidded, looking at you through his long eyelashes. 

As he makes out with your pussy, licking and kissing it so sweetly, taking his time, your legs begin to tremble. The pleasure is simply too much. You’ve been eaten out before, but never like this, never as if your clit is the most delicious thing on earth. 

“Ahh… Choso… I can’t…”

He pauses and glances up. “Are you alright, Mistress?”

“Y-yes, just… don’t stop, even if I tell you to. Not until I collapse,” you say, feeling slightly delirious. Did you really just say that?

“Of course, Mistress,” he says, then returns to devouring you. 

Your hands move to his head, and you find yourself pulling the ponytails free and letting his hair loose. Then you’re gripping it, hopefully not hard enough to hurt. You hear him utter a quiet moan, and the vibration of his voice against your clit as his lips suckle it gently sends you over the edge. 

You cry out, your hands tightening in his hair, your legs shaking and nearly giving way right then and there. His hands move around to your thighs and ass, holding you steady while his tongue laps up any fluids that leak out. You’re quivering, your clit extra sensitive and swollen after your orgasm, and that’s when his wet tongue glides over it again, pushing the hood even further back. 

“W-wait! Oh God… oh fuck!”

Your body jerks, your legs turning into spaghetti as another orgasm hits you within minutes of the first. Choso’s grip on your body is firm, keeping you from crumbling. His lips and tongue are still working at your clit, moving at a faster pace now, making you shudder and moan. 

“Choso… I can’t stand it… feels too good… I can’t…. I can’t…”

His mouth is relentless, pushing you right back to the edge. You know you must be pulling his hair too hard, but you have to grip something or you’ll fall apart. Then, you feel his teeth lightly scrape over your sensitive, overstimulated bud, and you inhale sharply, nearly choking on the air as you cum for the third time. 

It feels like your body is dissolving as all strength leaves you. Choso catches you in his arms and eases you down to the carpeted floor, cradling you. 

“Are you alright, Mistress?” he asks, his lips glistening with your juices. 

You’re still twitching, clutching his arms as you ride out the aftershocks of the three most intense orgasms of your life. You can’t speak, so you just nod to answer him. 

He holds you until you’re able to stand up with his help, then he helps you clean up before tucking you into bed. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he says, and you nod as he goes into the bathroom. You didn’t mention it, but when he was holding you on the floor, your upper half in his lap, you felt a rather impressive erection through his loose pants. You thought about doing something about it, but your mind was a little too hazy at that point. Oh well, you’re certain you’ll get plenty of chances to pleasure him as well. 

You never imagined being a doll before all this, and you’re still angry that things turned out this way, but at least you have Choso as your trainer. You don’t know how things will turn out, who will end up owning you, but at least for now, the situation isn’t too bad. So you fall asleep to the sound of the water running in the shower, knowing Choso will be sleeping beside you again tonight.

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx @deegausserr @voids-universe @hinata7346 @maflorex @issracollen @xkittiecatx @ryumurin @emrys3456 @mysecretesc8pe @typicalloser3 @gabriiiiiiii @fvsm4x @tyunhyukamyloves @rottmntrulesall

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso #choso kamo #jjk x reader #jjk smut #choso x you #x reader

[ay0nha]

When shall we meet again in thunder, lightning, or rain? | S.G. (I)

SUMMARY: You avoided addressing him directly, not quite due to fear but rather apathy. It took coaxing for you to even allow him to stay and now, without thought, you unknowingly beckoned him closer.

PAIRING: Satoru Gojo x Fushiguro!reader (Megumi's aunt/Toji's sister)

WORD COUNT: 2.2K

WARNINGS: Found family vibes atm, slight enemies to lovers, reader and gojo figuring out their dynamic through emotion constipation, angsty convos and feelings, canon-typical things, kid megumi, rushed ending, etc.

A/N: This took longer than I thought, but I want to take my time and really put effort into this one, so I hope you all enjoy. BIG shout out to @benzywenzymeowmeow this wouldn't have happened without your help. Much love. Again, based on/inspired by @stsgooo's post (here!). Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future parts.

COMMENTS ENCOURAGED. PLEASE.

prologue part ii

The bliss was idyllic.

Your wrist balanced on the windowsill as you lazily tapped the ash of your cigarette. The cool air caressed your arm and gave you goosebumps that reminded you that you were still alive—human. 

Your senses were perked. 

The city outside kept you attentive as your head rested back. The day was long, but hearing the taxis carrying bubbling people made it worth it. You imagined how some were on their way to find warmth in their home while others were dressed for an endless night of laughter.  

You loved how you contrasted the city; your living room was empty and quiet. You could no longer hear Megumi’s shuffling feet above you. The tranquility was still a fresh oddity. The new life created was a semblance of happiness. You traded hyper-vigilant nights for bedtime stories, cooking meals only for the kids for family dinners, and Gojo’s scarcity of communication for peaceful nights like tonight.

The privilege that came with Gojo’s name made your stomach churn. It was simple at first, pushing Gojo into a subconscious level. However, the task became daunting; an ache emerged from so deep within that it took months for you to realize he was responsible. 

You were overdue for an interruption. You answered the door after the third knock. 

“Gojo.” The cigarette dangled from your lip and bobbed with every syllable. “Megumi’s asleep.”

“Already?” Gojo feigned surprise; his intentions were obvious that he wasn’t here for your nephew. “It’s only—

“Midnight.” You sucked in a crackling breath. With pointed eyes, you took his presence in. On your breath out, the smoke clouded his face, “What do you want?”

“I didn’t know you smoked.” He used your question as an invitation, pushing past the threshold. He was always amused learning more about you, able to store away the details for later torment. 

With a chastised drag, you smothered the tobacco on the closest thing. “I don’t.”

There were reasons habits quickly morphed into vices, something immoral and wicked. You turned to smoking when you were young, disappearing seamlessly into a crowd that did the same. It grew into something that was seen as an extension of yourself—something nervously born only to be counterintuitive. 

You had gone to the store tonight for something so trivial that you struggled to remember what it was. The itch on your palm was a distraction from it all as you pointed for the pack behind the counter. It seemed like the right thing to do to combat stress, especially as you purchased a cheap lighter to follow through. 

It hadn’t been a comfort you thought it would be, but it was the only way you knew best to preoccupy yourself. You weren’t used to such repose surrounding you. You felt—safe. 

Now, each push forward felt unreliable and fuzzy. You didn’t like the way you felt so exposed. 

“Megumi’s getting stronger.” You couldn’t stand the idle silence, mainly when its weight rested on your shoulders. “The other day, this place was flooded with rabbits.” 

Gojo’s laugh flittered against the walls, challenging the warm breeze that swept through the place. It was apparent you hadn’t settled into the home completely; it was still devoid of personality and belonging. 

You hadn’t realized how each of Gojo’s visits revealed more. Something about seeing dishes in the sink and mail littering the counters lightened him. It was a simple indication that he was finally doing something right. 

“He’s a clever kid,” Gojo said lowly as if the neighbors would hear. His voice followed you even when you resumed your sedentary position, “He’s holding back, though…” 

“Isn’t that a good thing for you?” You were critical. You barely lifted your wrist, making a vague gesture of importance. “...and your so-called destiny…”

The constant friction between clans failed to excite you. It served as a reminder that those below them would most feel the repercussions. The day would come when the six eyes would meet the tenth shadow, and you would be left to clean up the mess. 

“It could be...” He answered so casually. You knew it’d be a lie if he promised you anything different. “...but that doesn’t mean Megumi shouldn’t reach his full potential.”

“How noble,” You cooed. 

Silence settled after the soft scoff to your chide. Often, you sat in silence, something Gojo was still learning to adapt to. If he had it his way, you would sit in rapture in his company. Yet, it was far more welcome than before. 

But the obvious question was still floating between you. 

Gojo could have entertained you with lies of being nearby. However, what drove him to your doorstep was a new sensation. It started in his chest, an unassuming feeling that he ascribed to staving off sleep. There became lesser justifications when it infiltrated every extremity. 

It had only become unbearable when missing posters began to overlap, the various faces becoming warped from exposure. The curses responsible were low-grade, but Gojo couldn’t ignore the threat even then. As they drew closer, he employed crows to line the telephone wires. Yet, he could only keep his distance for so long. 

“You’re stalling, Satoru…” 

You avoided addressing him directly, not entirely due to fear, but instead apathy. It took coaxing for you even to allow him to stay, and now, without thought, you unknowingly beckoned him closer. 

“Tired of me already?” His smirk could be felt. 

“Something like that…” You sighed. “If you’ve come here to hide more of those things—” You sat up, reaching for the dingy box that stored a gifted cursed object. “—don’t.”

The object mocked you daily, occupying space it wasn’t meant to atop the living room’s end table. Although it was sealed deftly with layers of protection, you were convinced whatever was within was alive—living and breathing to torment you. The house felt heavy with something that breathed down your neck, and praying, you turned to face it. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Playing coy wasn’t a strong suit for Gojo, not when he’d already hidden another cursed object just above the door frame. 

You hadn’t thought your paranoia was shared despite its contrast. For you, the odds were that harm would find you, and you’d be vulnerable to it all. However, Gojo could handle anything but never fared well with things threatening his control. His thoughts would begin to loop, slowly morphing into images that haunted his nights. 

It drove him to unassigned missions based on rumors of the whereabouts of cursed objects. The more he found, the deeper he placed them into the bones of the building you slept within. It took time for you to catch on, only finding these items when you cleaned, behind old books, in forgotten drawers, or in places just out of your reach. 

“Look—” Gojo started again, denying you the chance to argue. “Megumi’s getting stronger; you said it yourself.” He paused, treading carefully. “There will be a time when you wish these were enough.” 

—

Time passed fiercely. 

Megumi grew at a pace you could hardly keep up with. His sleeping figure was becoming too heavy for your hip, your dexterity failing as you felt for your keys. Then, you felt the weight shift on the opposite side of the door. 

Your struggle ended when it opened. 

“What are you—

“Shh—” Gojo held a finger to his lip, a smile imminent under it. “You’ll wake him.”

With your arms tucked under Megumi’s legs, you held him tightly to your chest as if the person before you was an intruder. Gojo watched as you slowly regained your composure, shoulders reflecting relief and the indent between your eyebrows evaporating.  

Even over the rim of his opaque glasses, Gojo knew better than to think his presence was welcomed. You readjusted your sleeping nephew lightly, frowning as you pushed past Gojo. You felt his footsteps copy your own, closely as if teasing the thought of bumping into you. 

The home was warm as if Gojo had been there for hours. Perhaps he was; you’d lost count of how long you’d been out. Especially as your arms grew tired and the river’s humidity still clung to your skin. 

“It’s late, Satoru…” You murmured over your shoulder. Your body melted from the exhaustion it carried, leaving droplets of yourself as a trail. “Whatever it is can wait…”

Gojo had always been blunt, frequently tactless in his childish rapport. However, he stood before you uncompromisingly as if your absence was a grave mistake.

“The door was unlocked—” His opaque glasses could shield his annoyance, but his words dripped with accusation. “—you weren’t here.” 

Your hold on Megumi remained secure. “He’s been having trouble sleeping.”

Megumi exchanged sleep for taming shikigami. He was diligent in understanding the world of jujutsu. You expected that alone to intimidate him, but he was already above it all, jaded about the idea of becoming a sorcerer. 

Although young, behind Megumi’s neutral expression was immense introspection. Despite his disposition, his morals weren’t laid bare yet, but he knew he wasn’t that person. That alone was enough to weigh him down.  

As his mentor, Gojo failed to notice. His focus was on your oversight. “Someone—something could have—”

“It was just a walk,” You sighed. 

The lights streamed in from the street you’d just wandered on. It cast shadows against the mess of the place. Your stress unravelled into the discarded, forgotten jackets sprawled on random chairs. 

Every surface had some mark that Gojo indulged in. They told stories he could piece together; the stains of coffee on the counter attributed to your tardiness. He could picture how you hurried before school, toast in your mouth as you fitted Megumi’s school tie and ruffled a free hand through his unruly hair. 

“He’s fine.” You promised with resignation. Gojo blinked back to the present, ignorant to how you misinterpreted his wistfulness for further criticism. “The walks help, I think.”

“You realize it’s the middle of the night, right?” He scoffed, pedantic with his dry laugh. “All my efforts, just for you to dangle yourself—

“Come on…” Your hum was half-hearted, looking at Megumi. “Lately, your efforts seem to be only convenient for you.” 

Walking away from the conversation, you did your best to keep busy. You were afraid that if you stopped moving, your world would collapse. If you stopped moving, time would consume you. 

The Zenin clan didn’t take Gojo’s loophole lightly. He responded with a few years worth of nurturing Megumi; money was siphoned to you for his care, a place was already carved for him at the school, and any sugar craving was indulged. 

That left you counting the seconds you still had with your nephew. The walks calmed you, holding Megumi so closely. His arms wrapped tightly around your neck to loosen as he was rhythmically rocked to sleep. 

You weren’t afraid to walk alone. With your whole words encased in your arms, there wasn’t anything you weren’t willing to do. Even if that meant letting go at the end of the night. 

Despite uncanny perception, Gojo was blind to how crushing that felt. 

“I can’t see what he sees, what you see.” You continued aloud. Gojo was wise to hold back on an ill-timed wind-up, able to hear your admission clearly. “But I can feel what it does.”

Megumi groaned lightly, eyebrows furrowing from your chest’s vibrations. You paused, waiting for him to settle again. The night was almost over, and you weren’t sure how long your posture could support your position. 

“Let him be a kid.” You whispered. 

Gojo’s heart had dropped to his stomach, the curtains behind you rhythmically moving in a dance that mocked him. The few words made his fingers twitch. The thought of turning into his worst nightmare was comforted by a tight breath. 

If he genuinely desired to foster the next generation—to have Megumi be his equal—any unsympathetic cruelty didn’t have space to exist. Gojo’s breath deepened, filled with promise. 

Pushing the brief turmoil out, a lightness took over him. “Are you inviting me over for a playdate?”

“He may have a funny way of showing it…” You started. Megumi could be aloof and quiet, but you knew him better than anyone else. His eyes lit up even when he complained about Gojo. “...but Megumi—

“My head’s big enough already.” Gojo stalked toward you, saving you both from something neither of you was ready for. “Let’s make a deal, hmm?”

Carefully, Gojo’s hands brushed under your arms. Their coolness made you prickle, almost taking a defensive position as he offered help.

“These strolls of yours.” He mused. “Call me.” Any protest was lost; all you could do was nod. “I’m overdue for fresh air.” 

The transfer was seamless as he took the weight of your responsibility into his own arms. Megumi was deep in sleep, unaware of how the strength of his mentor was enough to hold you up as well. 

Gojo jutted his head toward your room, hold confident on Megumi. “Go get some rest.”

#q #satoru gojo #satoru #gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x f!reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo angst #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo jjk #jjk satoru #jjk gojo #jjk satoru gojo #gojo jjk #satoru jjk #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo saturo x you #gojo saturo x f!reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru angst #gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo fluff #jujutsu gojo #megumi fushiguro #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #megumi and gojo

[jazz-miester]

Yandere Bayverse!Optimus x Decepticon Mech reader smut?

Also, I wanted to say that I LOVE your works! Especially that one Optimus x reader one.. it has me in a chokehold. Anyways, feel free to ignore!

Hung Over You

Pairing: Bayverse Optimus x reader

Reader type: Decepticon Mech

Song: Lady Lie- Rainbow kitten surprise

Warnings: I'm gonna put Dubious Consent here as a warning. I. Honestly i'd rather be safe than sorry yall. And please please for all that is holy. Get absolute consent from your partners before doing anything. If the yes isn't given whole heartedly and said with everything the person has to offer. Don't do it. It's not worth it.

An: Aww you're too sweet! I'm glad that you like my stuff so much! Hope that this is what you wanted lol. I'm not to familiar with the yandere thing so im lowkey just winging it. Also putting this under a read more because this came out to be 4186 words long lol.

Tags: @rawmeknockout hope you don't mind me tagging you in this lol.

You have caught his optic. Which honestly is the most dangerous thing you have ever had happen to you. There has been. Rumours that have spread from out of the Autobot ranks. But they had been rumours. Right?

Primes don't do that. They. They don't.

Not once did you truly worry though. When would you ever see him? You were one of the few medics that the Decepticon army had left. Most others had defected to the Autobots.

Really. It made sense. They left so they could work in a slightly safer environment where you were less likely to be offed by your patients. Still, even with how long you've been with the Decepticons you find yourself wondering why. Why have you stayed for so long despite the Decepticons going so far out of the ballpark of what they once stood for.

It was becoming less and less often you would find that reason to stay. And at this point you were only finding it in the older mechs. Those who were forced into their casts by the functionists all because they transformed into something other than a silly little microscope.

They were the ones that still fight so they would no longer have to risk their lives on a job that they higher nobles where to afraid to do. They stuck with the original Decepticon ideals so that their future younglings wouldn't have to live the harsh and horrid lives they did.

They are the reason you kept going. Kept doing what you did. They were he reason you still had a flicker of hope for the Decepticons. That Megatron was truly fighting for your peace. That he would lead Cybertronian kind into a new era. One of peace and prosperity in the way they never had before. A life where your frame didn't dictate how and who you would be.

You lost that little ember of hope on a Decepticon battlefield. Every attempt you made to help the others. To heal, to mend. All of it in vain when the bombs began to rain from above.

Again and again you went out dragging in bots and cons alike to some semblance of safety as the bombs screamed in the sky. You were forced to quit when an Autobot. And old and ancient mech stopped you and pulled you into the shelter. It was his rust colored paint that filled your vision as he gave you some sense of solace.

It was with him you grieved the loss of any hope you had left.

All of this. The wrought and ruin of his own troops, supplies, territory. All of it destroyed for a blind assault on the chance he could kill his enemy.

All of it because Megatron was to much of a coward to face Optimus Prime himself.

You did all you could. Tending to the injured. Helping even the Autobots. Or at least all that would allow you to.

It felt like a life cycle for the bombs to quit falling. Longer still for the metal of Cybertron to settle. And longer for the air to become ventable once again.

You did what you could to lead the injured up and out.

A lot of Decepticons turned their back on the cause after that. Most choosing the neutral path. Not willing to chance facing their brothers and sisters. Friends. Lovers.

Some, like you, pledged yourself to the Autobot cause.

It was on that battlefield that you saw him for the first time.

Optimus Prime.

There was a million and one warning bells going off in your helm the closer he came.

"Are you here to fight, or to stay?" His voice rumbled like distant thunder just before a storm of acid rain. This was the same question he had asked every con before you.

"Stay, I suppose." You spoke after a moment. You had long since torn away the Decepticon insignia. You could still feel the distant ache in your sparkchamber.

A botched job for what should have been the greatest moment in your lifecycle.

It meant nothing now.

"I have heard you helped my troops mech. Is this true?" Blue optics looked you up and down then stopped on your own. For the briefest moment you wondered if he could see you. Truly see you. As if the matrix gave him some supernatural ability to pick apart your very spark.

Cybertronians used to worship Primes.

"I did." You answered. "And I will continue to do so. If you allow. Optimus Prime." A grin split his lips when you were done speaking.

"If you are willing then yes.." He trailed off.

"Y/n sir." The Prime tilted his helm. Mouthed your name.

"Y/n." Something about the way he spoke it sent your spark pounding. Your takes turning.

Megatron sounded like that once.

Just before everything went to slag in a hand basket.

.

.

.

That wasn't the last time you saw the Autobot leader. And it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"Y/n! Mech! Pay attention slaggit!" Ratchet's voice was right in your audio receptor. His servos moved with more efficiently than you have ever seen in any mech or femme. It was supernatural, almost, to watch.

The two of you were elbow deep in a mech. The damned frontliner decided to play hero.

You could have sworn you had seen Optimus. There in a window that the assistant has forgotten to close.

.

.

.

"He's damned good. For a con." Ratchet would both praise and poke at you at the same time. "I'm glad he's on our side though."

You were proud with where you were at the moment. You had built a reputation for yourself. Worked in a place that made your skills worth something. You worked with bots that wouldn't have your helm for just venting wrong near them.

You caught a snippets of Ratchets and Ironhides conversation from where you were organizing field kits. Restocking and filing inventory on this had fallen to you after a while.

Well. You were until Optimus came spilling in. Energon flowed freely onto the floor where it really shouldn't have been.

Two mechs carried him in. You were quick to clear a med berth off. Already you were in the process of cleaning when Ratchet began barking orders

Time to show Ironhide those skills Ratchet was bragging about.

.

.

.

Sometime later and what seemed like an obscene amount of energon, Optimus was deemed stable. Currently he was sleeping off the anesthetics.

"Will you keep an optic on him and tell me when he wakes kid?" You looked up from the data pad you were typing on when Ratchet spoke. "I have some reports I need to finish and I need to plan some care for when he wakes up." You waved a servo.

"I've got it Ratchet. Go do what you need to." With a heavy sigh he left. Muttering about Primes being stupid and self sacrificing for no good Primus damned reason.

You went back to restocking field kits. You needed something to do with your servos while you waited for him to wake up.

Which wasn't much longer after you finished. The Prime woke with a start. Bolting upright as he took in where he was. Some part of his processer still stuck out there on the feild.

It was only after he swing his legs over the side of the berth did you walk towards him.

"Prime. You need to stay laying down. If you get up now you could re open the welds me and Ratchet placed." Your voice was low. Soothing. The same voice you have used a thousand times over for Decepticon coming out of general anesthetics. At least this time you were greeted with a look rather that blaster fire.

Really. Megatron should have implemented some sort of psychiatric treatment for his troop.

Optimus said nothing as you walked up to him. Slowly you placed one servo on his shoulder. "I need to check on the welds before I go and get Ratchet. Are you ok with that or do you want me to get him to do it?" You always gave them the option. Some still didn't trust you. Former Decepticon and all.

"You may." The Prime leaned back slightly. His legs spreading further apart as he balanced himself. You said nothing other than giving him a nod before going to check the welds across his abdomen.

The welds looked ok. And they were still holding up despite the fact he decided to spring up off the berth. You took the opportunity to glance at the ones on his arms. Then checking the cabling at his neck that had become undone.

You froze for a moment when he leant forward. Slumping as if suddenly overcome by fatigue. Out of reflex you caught him by the shoulers. Bracing him as he fell forward. Optimus's helm fell on your shoulder. His servo brushing against your hip and thigh.

"Slaggit! Prime are you ok?" You pushed back on him. Righting the blue colored Prime. "Are you dizzy? Any pains that we were not aware of?" You looked over his face plates. Looking for the drain of nanites and fuzzy unfocused optics.

Nothing.

"I am fine. Just." He paused. "Apologies, Y/n. I did not mean to cause concern." There. Again. That same look he gave you on the battlefield sometime ago.

"Are you sure? It is no issue. I can go get Ratchet. He wanted me to get him after you woke anyways." A slight flicker on his face plates. A sort of, annoyance? Then.

"Get him if you must. Ratchet is my CMO for a reason." It wasn't until you pulled away did you realize Optimus's servo had been on your waist that entire time. Only did you know when you pulled away and his digits grazed along the dark grey plating.

.

.

.

You felt like you were going insane. Someone was leaving you gifts. It wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for the fact it was inside your habsuit on your berth.

They were the things you liked. Sweetened energon candies. A very specific polish you thought you would never find again. There was even a praxian crystal rose at one point. Who would give that away to a former Con you would never know. After the fall of Praxus they had become scarce.

You saw Optimus a few times after he had been discharged from the med bay. He came a few times afterwards to keep the welds in check and to make sure the new cabling in his throat had took.

You had been the one to check on the welds after a while. And to make sure the Prime had proper movement in his left arm. The one that you were now currently holding and moving to ensure fluid movement in the shoulder joint.

There was that look again. Like he was staring into your very soul. You felt that if you bared your spark chamber you would feel less exposed.

"And this? Any pain, aches?" The Prime rumbled out a laugh. Not once had he looked away from you.

"No. Truly, it is fine. You've done a very good job." You could feel your faceplates warm. Not use to any type of praise.

"It was hardly all me. Ratchet did the bulk of it." Optimus humed. Pulling his arm away. His digits brushed against your chassis before they settled in his lap. He flexed his palms and you couldn't help but to look.

Only to sputter a cough before he looked up. Almost getting caught ogling the Primes thighs.

"Still. You have done good. I am grateful to have such a skilled mech on our side. Your skills are valued here, y/n." He spoke your name with an intensity.

The two of you locked optics for a moment. The Prime almost drawing you in. He servo rose and hovered next to yours. You swore he almost would have taken it in his if it weren't for Ratchet calling him to his office.

The look that covered his facelates looked almost murderous. You had stepped back when he did that. And the look had fallen almost as quickly as it had came. Filled with a different, almost fearful look at your reaction.

The Prime rose and left. Giving you one last look before going to meet Ratchet. When you glanced back down to the berth you felt you tanks turned.

There, in the center of the berth, was a singular Praxian rose. The one that twined the other currently beneath your berth.

.

.

.

You said nothing about it to anyone. Instead quickly taking it and placing it within your subspace before Ratchet or any of the other medics or assistants could notice.

When Optimus left he had caught your optic then glanced at the berth the rose had been on. When he noticed it was gone and how quickly you had looked away. He smiled.

That night you had went to your habsuit shaken. Placing the rose with the other things you had been given.

Was. Was Optimus the one doing this? It would make sense seeing as how he would be one of the few with the proper codes to get into your habsuit.

But why? Why you? And was it really you?

You didn't fall into recharge that night. And you were in a daze for the next day cycle. Ratchet having reprimanded you more than once for your forgetfulness.

You nearly dropped the glass vials holding nanites when you saw him in the window looking into the supply closet. Optimus had studied you briefly before leaving.

You didn't move for many klicks. Servos shaking as you tried to calm yourself.

The next few days went the same. Catching Optimus in the corner of your optics every time you turned. It made you jumpy. Skittish. You began to pull away from the bots you had made friends with. Even to Ratchet who seemed to be concerned. But he said nothing. Did nothing other than lay his servo on your shoulder and give you the most sympathetic look you had ever seen.

.

.

.

"Y/n. Prime needs you in his office." You glanced up dumbly to the femme that had called your name. You had been in the rec room watching some old holo vids Toptwist had put on. A chorus of oohs had filled the room. Most of the bots acting like you had just been called to the headmaster's office in the academy.

Instead you swallowed thickly and nodded your helm at the femme.

You're frame is shaking the entire walk down the hall. Your mind was racing.

Did you do something wrong? If so then what? As far as you knew you were doing everything Ratchet needed you to. You didn't cause any problems with the others. No matter how much you wanted to throttle some of them when they wouldn't stop fragging you over just because you used to be a Con.

Is that why? Did some mech of femme complain about you being a former Decepticon?

You didn't want to lose what you had here. To much. It. You had finally found a reason to keep fighting. The Autobots they held up the ideals that the Decepticons used to have.

You don't think you would be able to quit this. Not without some consequence on your mental health. You needed this.

.

You stopped before the door to Optimus Primes office. You didn't know if you should com him or knock on the door. In the end you chose the latter. Fisted servo hovering before the engraved metal door for a klick before you knocked.

Ice flooded your frame. Something. Something spoke to you about this being a bad idea. That you should turn. Run.

Instead you ignored that millennia forged instinct.

"Enter." Optimus's voice sounded from the other side of the door after you knocked. The door sliding open and closing behind you quickly when you stepped inside.

His office was quaint. Small. There were odds and ends decorating shelves. A few organic plants here and there that looked well taken care of. It was such a rare sight to see. The war on Cybertron and rendered all organic life null. Unable to grow in such an hostile enviroment.

There were data pads from floor to roof on one wall. Suddenly you remember that the great Prime was just once a simple archivist in Iacon.

"There's no need to stand near the door, dear Y/n. I promise. You are not in any trouble here." Your helm snaps from the shelves of data pads and towards the Prime sitting at his desk. It was cluttered with data pads and reports. A few trinkets here and there. There was even a floating holo screen of what you assumed was him and a few other bots in one corner.

"I was told you needed me sir?" You strode to the center of the room. Just before the Primes desk. He smiled and shook his helm before rising from his seat.

"Please. There is no need for formalities here. I am just Optimus. " The Prime rounded the side of his desk before leaning against the side of it. Crossing his arms over his chassis.

You swallowed thickly. Finding yourself falling into a parade rest. "I was told you needed me, Optimus?" You repeated the question with his name instead. He gave a small laugh when he looked over at you.

"I meant it when I said there was no need for formalities Y/n. Please." Optimus pushed himself away from the desk as you made an attempt to stand comfortably. It was a little awkward.

Optimus stopped before you by less that a foot. You had to raise you helm to look him in the optics. You were not exactly a small mech but you reached just below the Primes chin.

"But yes. I did want you down here. I wanted to discuss something with you." His servo rose. The palm of his servo hovering just next to your helm before settling firmly on your shoulder. You couldn't help but look to that servo. Then to him as he began talking once again. "I have heard you've done good work here. And i'm proud of the fact that you are." The servo fell then digits hooked just below your chin.

Your spark began pounding in your chest. "I expect you have met my gifts well?" You optics widden and you pull away from those digits.

"That was you?" Your voice rose slightly at the end. At least that was a conformation. Whether or not it set you at ease was debatable to say the least.

"Of course. I'm sorry I couldn't deliver them in person though. I didn't need the others thinking I was playing favorites." His optics looked your faceplates over. His glossa darted out to wet his lips. "I find you to be the most brilliant mech I have had the honour to have in my troops yet. Y/n I have been hung over you since the moment I saw you." His servos cup either side of your helm. The size of them almost engulfing you.

"There is something addicting about you. I have yet to lay my servo on it. But. I wish to have you, if you will." His thumb brushed along your bottom lip. His optics following the movement of his thumb as he did this. "Of course we will have to keep this secret for a while. But I do not mind." His voice was low. Almost rattling in your chassis from how close he was now.

Chassis to chassis. Touching. So close. If the two of you were to slide the metal away. Surely your sparks would touch. The gesture here. Now. It was intimate.

Suffocating.

"Sir we can't. Its." Optimus's face darkened.

"Optimus. Please. Call me Optimus." His servos fell and once reached down to grab yours. He brought it up to his lips and layed a kiss on your scarred knuckles. His optics were on you the entire time. Blown wide with. Attraction? Lust? "And we can. The others will learn to deal with it."

Something pleasurable flooded your field when his wrapped over yours. Your processer fogged and you didn't know what to do. "Optimus I." You stopped when that pleasure flooded over you again. You legs shook and before you knew it you were moving. Your legs hit the desk and one moment you were standing. The next you were sitting. Optimus's servos wrapped around your thighs as he lifted yo up and onto it.

For a moment the fog lifted and you looked up to see a loopy grin on the Primes faceplates.

"Oh you look stunning just like that. I wonder if I could make you make that face again." He was between your legs. His servo traveled from your thigh and over your hip. It sprawled out over your stomach plating and up your chassis. His digits dipped in seems and pulled at wires that had a heat pooling below.

You whimper when his lips finally connecting with yours. Shivers running down your frame as he moves fervently. His servos cradle your helm as he does this. Drawing you in close. You servos find his wrists. You didn't know if you wanted to pull him away or hold him there so he would keep going.

He did leave you those gifts. It. It makes sense that he wouldn't do it in person. Right?

Right?

The two of you pull away with heated breaths. A string of fluid following your lips before breaking apart.

Your faceplates felt hot. Your vents where going rapidly. Trying to cool your heated frame.

Optimus lent in again and again. Laying kiss after kiss until he found your neck. Nibbling and sucking along the cabling there. You shiver and shook at the assault. Your frame reacting pleasantly to what he was doing.

"Such sweet sounds you are making. I wonder if you will sing the same while on my spike." His hips rolled as he said this. His servo landed on top of your interface array. "Please? My Y/n please?" Optimus spoke breathlessly. His helm pressed to yours. Your nose bumping against his as he moved to press another kiss to your lips. "For me? Please?"

And you did. Your array springing open and revealing your spike and valve to the room.

"The. The door. Is it locked?" You asked.

"Mmm? Yes." Optimus told you. His digits fluttering over your valve. A whimper left your lips as he teased you. Digits skimming over your valve. Your aching node to tease your weeping spike. "Look at you. Is all this for me?" He pressed a kiss to your chin.

"Yeah." You spoke. "Yeah. Just for you." A low moan left you when he sunk his digits within you. Digits curling as he pumped them in and out of you. He moved slowly. Gathering the fluid that left you and spreading his digits apart to slowly ease you into taking his spike.

He didn't want to hurt you after all. Not after waiting for so long. And not with you being so nice and willing.

You almost cried when those cleaver digits left you. Only for you to give a shudder when he put those same digits in his mouth. Glossa working around and between his digits tasting everything you had to offer.

"You taste sweeter than I thought you would be Y/n." He humed as his own interface array pulled away. He gave is own spike a few languid strokes before placing it between your shaking legs. "Relax. I will not hurt you." The tip of his spike pressed into you. "Relax my y/n." He guided himself within you. Moving slowly. He briefly pulled back at one point before sliding forward.

Optimus paused when he was fully seated within you. Giving his hips a few experimental rolls as he watched you come completely undone beneath him.

He was absolutely enthralled with the way you threw your helm back when he began to move. He happily complied with your pleas of more. Harder. Just like that.

You were being so good. So kind after all. How was he not to do what you asked when you were doing such a good job. He even told you as much.

"Look at you. Being such a good mech for me. You are taking me so well my y/n." His hips stuttered when he felt you squeeze around him from the praise. "You are taking my spike so good. You pretty valve feels so nice. So good. Gripping my spike so." He paused when he felt pleasure rack through him when you squeezed him once again.

Optimus was sure to note this in the back of his helm for future fragging sessions.

He could feel his overload coming and coming quickly. And if the way your were keening and moaning. Chanting his name so sweetly. Well, he knew yours was close as well.

Optimus rolled his field over yours and watched as you threw your helm back. Static spitting out of your vocalizer as you overloaded and over loaded hard. Your frame falling pliant under his servos.

Optimus found his soon after you. Pulling you close and leaning on your body.

He was sure to bring you into his habsuit. Cleaning your dirtied frame. Optimus took in the welled energon on your neck cabling. The slight paint transfer around your thighs from your coupling.

He'd be damned if he was letting you leave anytime soon.

#Maccadam #valveplug #Optimus Prime x reader #bayverse optimus x reader #bayverse optimus #optimus prime #yandere optimus prime #request #anon

[miryum]

Foundling Villa- Chapter 12

Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!

Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner @saturnsrinqs @livster @chonkybonky @eau-rougee @champomiel @justyouraverageeverydaysimp @multifandom-loser

Warnings: Argument, misogyny, a man being a putz and hitting on reader (he grabs her wrist), and protective!Charles (yes, that’s a warning)

ao3 link  next chapter>>

Princess Leclerc,

I am, admittedly, surprised by your letter. It’s not often that a princess writes to me after I attend her brother-in-law’s coronation with tales of foreboding. 

I’m happy that you call me a friend. It’s nice to know that I have confidante in this upscale ladder of hierarchy. 

Concerning your words, I’m afraid I can’t say much more. My father would have my hide. Hopefully, he doesn’t find out that we’re conversing. 

Enza and Redull have always had a rivalry. It started when Redull was an up- and- coming kingdom. Enza felt threatened, so the king sent troops to watch over our building and monarchy. The people of Redull didn’t look kindly on that, and if Enzan troops hadn’t been deployed, Redull’s territory could be much more expensive today. My kingdom has never forgiven yours. My father, especially, had a personal vendetta against Enza. I’m not sure I’m in a position to disclose why. 

There is the past. I cannot tell you the future. All I can say is: tread carefully in the present.

Best wishes,

Prince Max Verstappen 

P.S. pawn to f6

**

“King Stein, once again, I wish to express my immense gratitude for allowing me and my wife to stay with you.” Charles shook King Stein’s hand and bowed. It was a lovely day and the royals of both Enza and Haas stood on the steps of the Haas castle. 

“It’s my pleasure!” King Stein grinned. “The kingdom of Haas is always welcome to Enzans. And my daughter loves having Princess Y/n as a playmate.” Charles glanced over to watch as you swooped up the princess of Haas in a large hug, whispering goodbyes and promises to come again. “But Prince Charles,” King Stein gripped the younger man closer. “Remember what we discussed. It’s vital to Formuline’s future. I recommend sending your quickest messenger to your brother to tell him what you learned.”

“Yes, of course. Once again, my deepest thanks.” Charles bowed once more before his eyes shifted back over to you. “Darling,” Charles ambled over to you and the young princess, setting a hand on your lower back. “We really should be going; King Verstappen is expecting us before nightfall.”

You sighed dramatically. “You’re right, unfortunately. I am so sorry, Princess.” You set the girl down, bopping her on the nose. “I must go now.”

The Princess of Haas groaned. “Noooo! Princess Y/n! We’re not done playing!”

“I know, dear,” you crouched down and pouted. “But I’ll visit soon, okay?”

“Okay…” the young girl huffed. “Do you think you could bring your baby next time?”

You frowned cautiously. “What baby?”

“Your and Prince Charles’ baby!” The girl exclaimed, “everybody has babies and I wanna see yours! I bet they're adorable!”

“We’ll get right on that,” Charles smirked, hand snaking to your waist and pinching your side. You slapped his hand away and bid goodbye to the monarchs of Haas.

The flirting between you and Charles had increased, and you weren’t sure why. It made you feel like a teenager again, daydreaming about the beautiful people you saw at court with your sisters. Your connection with Charles had grown ever since the night at Foundling Villa and the unfortunate death of King Hervé. Along with the connection, the butterflies in your stomach. 

Charles took his place beside you in the carriage and opened up a small chest. “What are you doing?” You hummed, peering at the chest and resting your head on his shoulder. 

“I need to write a letter to Lorenzo,” Charles explained. “King Stein said some very interesting things that shed some light on our current situation.”

“Like what?” You nuzzled into his side, feeling tired after your visit in Haas. Charles focused on the parchment, quill, and ink in front of him. He hoped to ignore the fluttering in his stomach and the pain in his chest.

He started composing his letter to Lorenzo, simultaneously telling you what he had learned. “Redull came to Haas asking for an alliance. Haas demanded to know why, but Redull refused. King Stein heard from King Hamilton that Redull also came to him. We’re nowhere close to knowing their plan, but it’s going to be big. Clearly, Redull doesn’t believe they can do it alone. As long as we keep allies away from them, it’ll buy us more time. I don’t want to believe my worries, but Redull may be looking for war. If they acquire the support of another large kingdom, or even a smaller kingdom such as Lauren or Aston, their army would amass overwhelming numbers that could easily cut down all of Formuline.”

When you didn’t respond with helpful insight or advice, Charles looked down at your sleeping figure. “Oh.” He blinked twice. Does this mean she trusts me now?

**

“Y/n, cherié,” Charles rubbed your back gently. “We’ve arrived in Redull.”

“What?” You mumbled, curling into him. 

“You must awaken. We have to meet with King Verstappen.” 

“Right, yes, alright.” You nodded sagely, and then promptly went back to sleep. Charles chuckled deeply. He continued to whisper sweet nothings into your ear and gently coax you awake until you were fully conscious. “I am so sorry,” you shook your head, embarrassed. “I guess the rocking of the carriage put me to sleep.”

“That’s quite alright, but we still have a meeting to attend to.” Charles knocked on the carriage interior and the door sprung open by a footman. 

“Must I join you in the meeting?” you wondered. 

Charles frowned. “I would prefer it. I’m not sure I trust the people of Redull. Especially the aristocrats. I would rather have you close by so I can see and tend to you.”

“Well, that’s very sweet, Charles, but I’m pretty sure I can handle my own.” 

“If that’s what you want,” he conceded. 

Stepping down from the carriage, you two were greeted by King Verstappen and his son, Prince Max. “Prince Leclerc! Princess Leclerc! What a pleasure to have you join us in Redull!” The two men were dressed to the nines in a way that made you suspect they were trying to upstage or intimidate you. Prince Max muttered something and his father shot him a glare, murmuring a harsh complaint back.

“King Verstappen, how chivalrous of you to invite us,” Charles said.

“Well, once I heard about your newlywed excursion around the continent, I simply had to. It didn’t seem right that you would pass through Formuline without visiting Redull. We are one of your closest allies.” The words had a thinly veiled threat hidden in it. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, after all.

“I can’t imagine how we skipped over Redull,” you spoke up, surprising the Redull monarch. “It pains me that I wouldn’t visit my good friend, Prince Verstappen.” The said man bowed lowly to you. “Oh, and Prince Verstappen,” you began. “King's pawn to e3.”

**

The throne room was bustling with people. You stuck to the edges of the room, priding yourself as a wallflower. You dreaded your decision of not following Charles to his meeting with King Verstappen. Instead of being with your husband, whom you knew, you were stuck in a room full of foreign strangers. Who knew if they were whispering behind your back, plotting the demise of Enza? Needles seemed to prick down your spine. You didn’t feel safe. You felt surrounded by wolves in sheep's clothing. Here in Redull, Charles was the only other sheep you could count on, certain he wasn’t wearing a disguise.

It didn’t help your discomfort that a man kept watching you over the rim of his glass.

This man, in military garb, had shaved blond hair and a lanky frame. His eyes, which bored into you, were a dark brown. You carefully watched as he set down his goblet and stalked over to you. 

Immediately, you turned away. Your gown, which had just been cleaned after the long trip, swished around your feet. The simple tiara that Redull maids had woven into your hair felt heavy. Spying the doors- your exit- you hurried towards them.

“Do you know where Prince Charles is?” you asked one of the guards stationed nearby. Once he gave you directions, you set out down the corridor he instructed. A quick glance over your shoulder confirmed your fears; the military man was following you. An unnerving smirk flew onto his lips when you made eye contact. You turned away and your steps became faster. You knew that as long as you found Charles, this man would leave you alone. You wondered if you should’ve stayed in the throne room- at least people were there to witness anything. Guards had lined the room, capable of intervening. Cursing your impulsive thinking, you knew you were too far into the halls of Redull to turn back. 

Unfortunately, the man caught up to you just as you rounded a corner. “Princess Y/n of Enza, correct?” His gravelly voice made your insides curl with disgust. 

“Princess Leclerc, yes,” you corrected him, attempting to brush past. Just one more hallway and the room where Charles sat would be in your sights. 

“I’m Duke Samuel Hasting. I also hold the title of a commander of King Verstappen’s cavalry.” He seemed to boast, yet his brag wasn’t as grand as he had hoped.

“Fascinating.” You wanted to roll your eyes. “I also hold the title of married.”

“Yet, where’s your husband?” Hasting looked even more disgusting as he lent into you. 

“In a room right down the hall, actually. Would you like me to grab him for you?” 

“No, no, that’s alright. I’m sure he doesn’t have to know everything that happens to you.” Hasting grabbed your wrist.

“I will scream,” you said lowly. It sounded more like a threat than a warning. “Let go of me this instant.”

“Oh, Princess, you don’t mean that.” It sounded like Hasting was trying to sound seductive, but he just sounded constipated.

“I do mean it,” you retorted. “Why would I say it otherwise? That’s stupid.” You wrenched out of his grip and stormed down the hall. Finally turning the corner, you saw Charles exiting the meeting room, shaking hands with advisors of Redull, looking pleased, yet reserved. 

“Y/n!” Hasting called out sharply.

“Y/n?” Charles’ head turned towards you. You let out a sigh of relief. Seeing your expression, Charles’ brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” He stepped towards you, hand outstretched and you grasped it thankfully. “Y/n?” he asked again.

“Please, can we leave?” you asked.

“Yes, but why?” Charles’ eyes darted to Hasting, who stood at the end of the corridor.

“Princess Y/n was bothering me,” Hasting smoothly lied. “Making advances, and such. I thought you should know.”

“Is this true, cherié?” Charles glanced down at you. 

You shook your head, a little hurt that he thought you would flirt with another man. “The opposite, actually. I was coming to get you when this… Duke grabbed me.”

“He touched you?” Charles’ words became dangerously low. 

“He took hold of my wrist, Charles. It wasn’t that bad.”

“No, you’re wrong. He should never have touched you. What this Duke did was betray the trust of Enza by pursuing you.” Your husband shot a look at the Redull advisors, who shrunk from his stare.

“Charles, please, can we simply leave? I don’t feel comfortable here.” Admittedly, this new protective, even possessive, side of Charles sparked something within you.

“If that’s what you want.” Charles shot one last glare at Hasting. Hasting glowered back, pissed that you outed him. Charles placed a hand on your back and swept you towards the palace entrance.

As you and your husband passed Hasting, the latter man clapped a strong hand on your shoulder, jerked you backward, and snarled, “you bitch!” His hand drew back, as if to slap you, but Charles intervened.

It would best be described as a dance. Charles’ movements were fluid and languid. In one motion, Charles gently pushed you behind him, reared back, and punched the man. “That is my wife!” A primal instinct seemed to rush over him: an instinct to protect what he loved. 

Blood poured out of Hasting’s broken nose and the skin at Charles’ knuckles split. Redull advisors were quick to pull Charles back, lest he do anything worse. You and Charles were ushered out of the Redull palace, hurried goodbyes from both you and Prince Max; you wanted one good tie to the kingdom. 

Once you were in the carriage, tying one of your handkerchiefs around his hand, you whispered softly, “thank you, Charles.”

Charles’ eyes had gone from livid to loving. “I told you- I’d do anything for you.”

#Foundling Villa #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #lord perceval #monarchy #prince!charles leclerc x reader #prince!charles leclerc #slow burn #fluff #protective!charles leclerc #overprotective #max verstappen #jos verstappen #haas #redbull #red bull f1 #chess #stupid man

[ghostly-penumbra]

DPxDC Week 2023

19: Clockwork/Accidental Baby Acquisition/Misunderstandings

Ao3

yeah i forgot to post this here lol

Me, earlier in EctoberHaunt: I mean,, it's not really a DC Crossover? It's with Lucifer (TV) and that comes from the comic which comes from the Sandman which is kinda in the DC Universe... but that's a bit of a stretch to me, so I won't tag it as DPxDC.

Me, now: LOOK AT THIS SANDMAN (WHICH IS FROM DC, BTW) CROSSOVER, WHICH TOTALLY QUALIFIES EVEN IF NONE OF THE MAIN DC CHARACTERS ARE PRESENT!

Also spoilers for The Sandman.

- - -

“This is perhaps, the most important thing I will ever ask of you.” Clockwork said with a serious face unlike his usual one, where it just reflected his demeanour, but instead showed genuine concern the likes of which the so-called uncaring Master of Time never showed.

And with no hesitation, Danny had accepted the task.

“Get the baby away from the chaos duo, and take him back to his mom…” Danny looked at the baby in his arms, babbling happily whilst patting Phantom’s logo. “Now who exactly is your mom, buddy? And why are you guys so important that even gramps is having me interfere?”

“Baahh!”

“Not saying that you have to be relevant or something to deserve help! I’m just wondering if you’ll be some kind of superhero too! You may even save the world rather than destroy it.”

Seeing Danny’s saddened expression, the baby made an unhappy sound and tapped at his chest again, making the boy smile.

“You’re allowed to kick my butt if I ever grow to be Dan again.”

“Dah!”

“I think we’re around the same age, actually, so it won’t be just some kid kicking my ass.”

“Aass!”

“Oops.” Danny shifted his arms to more securely hold the baby and started floating just a couple of metres off the ground. “Now off to find your mom, future Daniel-defeater.”

“Dan-eel!” The baby cuddled up to him, and Danny felt the blond curls ticklke under his chin.

Invisible and in the air, Phantom looked for a distressed woman similar to the baby in his arms before she made a big mistake, even if he didn’t know about it.

-

Back in his Tower, Time watched as Daniel Fenton carried Daniel Hall to safety and stopped Lyta Hall from bringing doom upon the Dreaming.

He looked away, towards his grandson’s head as he sang his sorrowful song in the face of unending life. Clockwork still had work to do, and having no way to kill himself nor a ready successor wouldn’t simply make his son develop lust for life, but it would stall him, and one more second alive was infinite hope that Dream would choose change, and that was all a father could hope for.

#Danny Phantom #DC Comics #DPxDC #dpxdc week 2023 #Danny Fenton #The Sandman #Clockwork #accidental baby acquisition #misunderstandings #Time #Daniel Hall #ghostly-scrypts

[sailor-aviator]

Outrun the Devil: Chapter Two

Outrun the Devil: Chapter Two

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Summary: Bob Floyd had always been a good kid. So how did he manage to let his childhood friends rope him into living a life of crime? A member of the famous outlaw group, the Dagger posse, Bob longs for a future where he can settle down and earn a respectable living. When he meets the new barmaid at the local tavern, that future doesn't seem so farfetched, but will her past catch up to her?

Warnings: Allusions to prostitution, Reader being hard on herself, Low Self-worth, Suspicious Reader,

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Here is the long awaited Chapter Two!! I hope you all enjoy it, and as always, comments, reblogs, and likes are greatly appreciated! 18+ ONLY!! You can also find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I also post my updates! And, if you feel so willing, please consider donating to my ko-fi!

Series Masterlist || DPU Masterlist || Robert "Bob" Floyd Tag List

You were beginning to develop a rhythm for how your days went. You woke up, got dressed, ate a simple breakfast, cleaned the saloon, took orders from the patrons throughout the day, deal with the evening crowd that always picked up as the sun began to set, and then go to bed. It was simple, and you were glad for the steady work that allowed you to keep busy.

Penny had been kind to you, seeing that you adjusted and settled accordingly over the past week. You had met a girl they called Birdie only a couple of days after you arrived. She was staying with Penny and her husband, Maverick, and had taken on the job as a schoolteacher for the local children. You admired her seemingly endless supply of patience for all of the little ones, a feat you weren’t sure you would be able to manage. You, unsurprisingly, had not been around many children during your time in New Orleans, but you thought you might always like them.

You often found yourself smiling when watching the children run around the streets after school, wondering what it would be like to have your own. You always pushed that thought away, knowing that you would be a terrible mother. How could you be a good one with your past and your lack of understanding about children? Still, the feeling negged at you, whispering for you to just entertain the idea. You found yourself giving in more and more recently, but who would want you? You were sullied, ruined. What man would want you as his wife let alone the mother of his children? No, you decided. You would remain content with what life you had now, not willing to risk the good you had been able to find.

You had been cleaning the glasses from the night before when you heard the saloon doors creak open. Looking up, your heart skipped a beat at the handsome man that made his way towards you. Bob had an eager smile on his face as he approached the bar, and you felt your cheeks heat up under his gaze. That was so unlike you. Normally you were the one making the man feel giddy and excited for activities only you could provide him.

Bob stopped in front of you, placing a basket on the counter with an expectant look on his face. Your eyes darted down before back up to his deep, blue eyes, your eyebrow raising in question. His excited grin transformed into one a little more bashful as he dropped his gaze from yours. It was his turn for his cheeks to flush, and he rubbed the back of his neck as he cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he murmured. “Sorry, I know I came by unannounced.”

“No,” you rushed out. “No, it’s fine. What brings you by?”

Bob cleared his throat again before lifting his gaze back to yours. “I thought you might be hungry?”

“Oh,” you blinked, looking down at the glasses behind the counter.

Bob followed your gaze, and you weren’t sure how it was possible for his skin to grow even redder.

“I’m sorry,” he stuttered, running a hand over his face. “I should have realized that you would be busy. I mean, of course you would be, why wouldn’t you? It’s clear you work really hard, and that you take your job seriously. I shouldn’t have just come by assuming anything different. I don’t want you to think that I don’t-”

He stopped as you placed a gentle hand over his. He swallowed as he looked at you, eyes darting nervously across your face.

“Can you breath for me?” You smiled at him. He returned it nervously before letting out a long exhale. You squeezed his hand with a nod. “Ask me again.”

“What?” He frowned, not understanding. You took your bottom lip in between your teeth to fight off the giggle that threatened to spill out.

“Ask me again,” you prodded. Bob studied you for a moment before taking a deep, calming breath.

“Bunny,” he started, causing you to flush at the new nickname. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

You hummed, your grin threatening to break out across your face as you pretended to think, tapping your chin thoughtfully. Bob’s eyes took on a pleading look as he watched you silently, shifting from one foot to the other.

“I don’t know,” you giggled. “I still have all of these glasses I need to clean…”

You heard a snort coming from the door to the backroom. Both of you turned to see Penny watching the both of you with a smirk.

“Bunny, quit teasin’ that poor boy and go take a break,” she chuckled, walking over to take the glass out of your hand. “Be back in an hour.”

You smiled sheepishly at her as you moved around the bar to join Bob. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, and Bobby?” Penny called after him as the two of you turn to walk out the saloon. He turned to her with wide eyes.

“Yes, Penny?”

“That does not mean bring her back on the dot,” she smirked. Another blush crept it’s way up Bob’s neck as he nodded at her, placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you out onto the street. You felt tingles run up your spine where his hand rested againt you, and you wondered if this is how it felt to be a normal girl for a change. It was a new sensation, being nervous around a handsome man. You had had your fair share of moments spent in the company of handsome, young men, but you knew what to expect in those transactions.

Penny spoke highly of Bob, but you had spent time with good men who still wanted the same thing from you. You frowned at the thought. Perhaps Bob was just looking for the same thing. He was certainly putting forth a lot of effort for someone he barely knew.

“I thought we could sit under the tree by the church,” he murmured to you, bringing you out of your contemplation. “It’s one of the few places with shade in town.”

You smiled up at him politely and offered him a nod of your head. You felt bad for jumping to conclusions. If Bob had wanted to do anything, under the tree in front of the church was not the place to do it without inviting some kind of trouble.

“I think that sounds lovely,” you told him quietly. Bob grinned at you, leading you that way. He set the basket down on the ground, kneeling to take out the blanket he had placed carefully on top of the food. He spread it over the ground, offering you his hand as he helped you sit down. You leaned back on your hand, watching as he began to take out the various dishes he had packed.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he smiled. “I think I might have packed too much.”

You giggled, looking at all of the different food items he had placed around you. “Were you planning on more people joining us?”

“No,” he blushed, ducking his head down. “I just wasn’t sure what you would like, so I packed some of everything.”

You stared at him, eyes wide. He cared about what you liked? When you didn’t say anything after a moment, he began to fidget nervously.

“I knew it was stupid,” he muttered, more to himself than you.

“No!” You rushed out, startling him. He looked up at you and the two of you maintained eye contact for a moment.

“It’s not stupid,” you continued shyly, breaking the eye contact to fidget with your hands. “I think it’s very sweet.”

“Yeah?” He looked at you hopefully, eyes brightening. You gave him an encouraging nod.

“Yes,” you whispered, feeling the heat behind your cheeks turn to lava. You searched desperately for something to say as Bob stared at you. “Where did you get all of this?”

“Oh!” Bob exclaimed, a grin gracing his features. “I helped my mama make it all!”

“You can cook?” You asked him, brow raising in shock. He nodded enthusiastically, grabbing for a plate of cornbread.

“Yeah! I love it, actually. Here, tell me how this tastes.”

He held up a piece of the cornbread to you, and you slowly opened your mouth to him. He placed the piece on your tongue, thumb slightly grazing your bottom lip as he pulled back. You began to chew, a burst of flavor exploding over your tongue. You let out a quiet moan at the buttery taste, causing Bob’s grin to become so wide that you wouldn’t be surprised if it hurt.

“That’s really good!” You smiled as you swallowed, looking up at him. Bob’s blue eyes gleamed under your praise, chest puffing up in pride.

“I made that all by myself,” he boasted, offering you more. You took a larger piece enthusiastically.

“I never learned how to cook,” you admitted, averting your gaze once again.

“Really?” Bob asked you, and you nodded, feeling shame crawl up from the depths of your stomach. He hummed thoughtfully, handing you some chicken.

You wondered if your admission had messed everything up, although you weren’t quite sure there was anything to mess up. Nonetheless, you felt a lump begin to form in your throat, both from your inability to do much of anything it seemed, and the thought this this kind man would want nothing to do with you now that he knew you had nothing to offer.

“I could teach you how.”

Your eyes shot up to look at him. You hadn’t even realized that tears had begun to form in your eyes until Bob reached out to wipe them away.

“Hey,” he cooed gently, his thumb moving down to stroke your cheek. “Why’re you cryin’, Bunny? S’okay. Did I say something to upset you?”

“No,” you whimpered, not quite understanding why you were crying yourself. You never cried. Crying never did you any good. You pushed the unexpected feeling down into your chest. “You’d really teach me?”

“Of course,” Bob smiled. “You just tell me when and what you want to cook, and I’ll make it happen.”

You sniffled. “I don’t know how to repay you.”

“You don’t have to worry about repayin’ me, okay?” He told you. You stared at him with pursed lips and he let out a small chuckle at your expression. “I’m serious! Don’t worry about it. Just think of it as me helping out a friend, yeah?”

“A friend?”

“Yeah,” he blushed, suddenly seeming unsure of himself. “We’re friends, ain’t we?”

You nodded at him slowly, but you felt dissatisfied at the sound of the word. Before you could fully begin to analyze what that meant, you heard the sound of a body collide with the ground. The two of you turned to see a small, blond boy no older than six slowly push himself up off from the dirt. You stood quickly, rushing over to him with Bob right behind you.

“Are you alright?” You asked the boy, placing your hands gently on his arms as he sniffled. He looked up at you with wet, green eyes and a wobbling lower lip.

“Yeah,” he told you tearfully. “I tripped and fell.”

“Billy,” Bob began, voice stern but gentle. “What have we all told you about running around like that?”

“I know!” Billy cried, tears starting to run down his cheeks. “But I was going to be late for class!”

You glanced up at the church door where the last remaining children wandered through. You looked back at Billy, offering him a small smile.

“I’m sure Birdie wouldn’t want you to get hurt just to get to class on time,” you told him softly. “I know she cares a lot about you all, and it would be a shame if you couldn’t make it to class at all because you got hurt, right?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, sniffling as he looked at you. You smoothed your thumbs over the scratches on the palms of his hands.

“Why don’t we go in together and tell Birdie why you’re late now, yeah?”

“Okay,” he whispered, taking your hand in his smaller one. You stood up, walking with him into the Sanctuary, Bob trailing after the two of you. Every head in the room turned as the three of you walked into the sanctuary, and Birdie’s eyes furrowed as she saw the sight before her.

“Billy?” She asked uncertainly, eyes leaving him to look at you. You gestured to the little boy beside you awkwardly.

“We had a little accident outside,” you explained. Birdie took in the dirt on his trousers, frowning at him.

Sighing, she made her way up the aisle towards the lot of you. “You were running again, weren’t you?”

“I didn’t want to be late,” he mumbled, looking up at you and squeezing your hand. You squeezed it back as you gave him a reassuring smile.

“Well, let’s get you to your seat, alright?” Birdie sighed, motioning for him to go on ahead. He slowly let go of your fingers as he made his way to the front. Birdie watched him pass before turning to you with a smile.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, and you nodded at her. You turned to walk out of the church with Bob close behind you. You sat back down on the blanket, Bob plopping down next to you. You felt his gaze on your face, and you turned to look at him. His expression was unreadable as he watched you, and you quirked a brow at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said softly, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. “You’re really good with kids, you know?”

Your eyes widened in shock. You weren’t sure what to make of his words, so you instead to chose to focus back on the food. Grabbing a plate of what looked like chicken, you ripped off a chunk and popped it into your mouth.

“Will you teach me how to make this?” You asked him. He chuckled, taking a bite of more cornbread.

“Of course.”

Later that day, you were finishing up some cleaning when Birdie came sulking into the bar. She slid into the stool in front of you, placing her head in her hands glumly.

“What’s eatin’ at you?” Penny asked her, brow raised curiously. The younger girl let out a defeated sigh.

“The children are going to do a play to help raise money for the schoolhouse.”

“And that’s an issue because?” You asked her, eyes darting to Penny to see if she could shed some light on the situation. She shrugged, turning her attention back to Birdie.

“Because,” she grumbled, “It took us an entire week to settle on doing a play. Now they can’t decide what play to do.”

“Ah,” Penny said, leaning against the bartop, “what are the suggestions?”

“Some want to do Cinderella, some want to do Snow White, and others want to do Sleeping Beauty,” she groaned.

You watched her thoughtfully. “Why don’t you just let them make their own play up?”

Birdie’s gaze lifted to yours, eyes gleaming with intrigue.

“Let them do their own play?” She asked you, and you nodded at her.

“That way everyone can do something they like.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Bunny!” Penny grinned, Birdie nodding excitedly. You blushed under the attention.

“It reallly is!” Birdie exclaimed, leaning back and away from the bar. A smirk made it’s way onto her lips. “Have you ever thought of becoming a teacher?”

“Me?” You scoffed, shaking your head. “No, I wouldn’t know what to do. Besides, I can’t even read.”

Birdie’s eyes widened. “You don’t?”

“No,” you said softly, suddenly feeling self concious under her stare. She pursed her lips thoughtfully.

“I can teach you,” she said finally.

“What?” You chuckled with a frown. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Well,” Birdie smiled, “it’s a good thing you won’t have to then. I’m volunteering! Unless you don’t want to learn?”

“No, I,” you trailed off. She watched you with kind, shining eyes. You sighed. “I would actually really love that, Birdie. As long as it doesn’t take up too much of your time.”

“It won’t,” she chirped, turning leave as the evening crowd began to file into the saloon. She casted you a wave over her shoulder as she trotted towards the door. “Let’s start tomorrow, okay?”

You didn’t have a chance to argue as your attention was grabbed by some of the patrons who were already demanding their drinks. Penny chuckled, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s go, Bunny,” she grinned. “Don’t want to deal with cranky customers this early in the night, do we?”

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd x you #robert floyd x you #robert floyd imagine #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #top gun bob #bob floyd imagine #bob top gun #western au #dpu

[deathblacksmoke]

Dramamine—Part 4

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Nick Ruffilo

Series Summary: Cynical, brooding bartender Nick meets too-earnest, pretty boy singer Noah when The Rabbit's Foot starts hosting an open mic night.

CW: angst, hints at past trauma, Noah being pushy and kind of annoying and not taking the fucking hint, mention of death

*Content warnings will be updated by chapter*

Word Count: 1.5K

Taglist: @concretenoah / @ladyveronikawrites / @circle-with-me / @darksigns-exe / @xxrainstorm / @monotoniscreaming / @agravemisstake / @iknownothingpeople / @cookiesupplier / @jiizzy / @bngurngheart

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future fics!

Author's Note: I'm finally back on track with my updates yay 🤍 POV switches to Noah in this one. Next part will be an interlude. Hope y'all enjoy <3

dividers by @cafekitsune 💐

NOAH’S POV

It’s been 6 days since Noah last spoke to Nick. It’s been 6 days since, mid-hookup, Nick stormed out of Noah’s apartment abruptly and without an explanation.

At least he said he was sorry before he slammed Noah’s door, shaking the room and extending the crack above the door frame. Even so, Noah can’t keep himself from replaying the night in his head, trying to figure out what went wrong. Was it him? What had he done? How does he fix it?

He tried texting him, but when enough texts went unanswered, he decided to cut his losses. He can leave Nick alone if that’s what he wants.

It’s only been a few weeks since they met, but the thought of not having Nick around turns his stomach. He had cracked what seemed to be an impossibly tough exterior, and he thought they were both having fun. He thought Nick liked him too, but just as soon as he was in Noah’s life, he was gone.

His absence aches, leaving something painful and hollow in Noah’s gut. Nick’s tea mug had been left untouched on the coffee table for days—Noah couldn’t quite bring himself to move it to the kitchen and rinse it out. He’d love to say it didn’t have an effect on him when he came home from work to find it had been washed and placed back in the cabinet, but his heart sank.

He changes his mind. If Nick wants to be left alone, he’ll have to tell Noah as much or block him.

Please Nicky, I just want to know if you’re okay.

The text goes unanswered again. He doesn’t know what he expected.

The thought of going to The Rabbit’s Foot to have Nick ignore him straight to his face doesn’t sound appealing to him at all, but he doesn’t want to let himself be pushed out. With or without the promise of seeing Nick at the end of the night, he’s loved doing the open mic nights.

He doesn’t want to let Nick stop him. Against his better judgment, he hopes that after he plays, he’ll be able to pull Nick aside for a talk. It’s wishful thinking, but it’s the same wishful thinking that’s kept him going for this past week. Goddammit, he barely even knows Nick, but he feels like he’s flailing not knowing what’s going on with him. He really did mean it when he said he just wants to know if he’s okay.

When he steps through the door, he sees something he hasn’t seen once in the weeks he’s been coming here. His stomach drops. Behind the bar, there’s no Nick. There’s Jolly and there’s the bouncing barback and there’s some guy he doesn’t recognize, pouring Guinness more shamefully than he’s ever seen. Nick would hate seeing that, but Nick isn’t here.

Noah wonders if it’s his fault but pushes the thought away, can’t allow himself to get caught up in it. He can’t let himself spiral out about it. He just had really hoped Nick would be here, if only so he would know that he’s okay.

It’s agony.

“Hey, you’re up there next,” he’s taken out of his thoughts when Jolly sneaks up on him, a strong hand on his shoulder.

He wants nothing more than to ask about Nick. Second to that, he wants to get the fuck out of this bar and never come back to The Rabbit’s Foot again.

“Thanks, man,” he says instead.

He wants to go home, but he won’t. He’ll go up there, he’ll introduce himself, he’ll sing his song. He’ll pretend he’s not being torn up by Nick’s nagging absence.

Because the thing is, once Noah starts playing, it becomes clear to him how much he’s grown to rely on Nick’s presence here. He’s become dependent on Nick’s bright blue-grey eyes burrowing into his fucking skull, how the focus he places on not getting distracted has made him better. He remembers all the chords he had fucked up or missed altogether that first night, when Nick stormed out for whatever reason it was. He didn’t ask. He’s noticing himself missing them now—his voice is cracking. He feels humiliated. He wishes Nick was here. Nick should be here.

He just has to make it through the song.

There’s no blame for how our love did slowly fade And now that it’s gone, it’s like it wasn’t there at all And here I rest, where disappointment and regret Collide Lying awake at night

Blinking back his tears, it’s clear he picked the wrong one.

It takes all of his resolve not to bolt out the door when he’s done, but he’s feeling brave. More so, he’s feeling like if he doesn’t get an explanation soon, he’ll lose his mind.

His nerves spike as he approaches the bar, especially as the barback spots him and fails to hide the narrowing of his eyes. He wonders what he knows. He wonders what Nick told him.

“Hey, um—” Noah starts when he’s in front of the bar, ignoring the other bartender completely. The barback looks at him expectantly, a little irritated, and it makes him feel uneasy. “I’m sorry, I never caught your name.”

“I’m Nick,” he answers, and Noah has to stop himself from laughing as he raises an eyebrow. “Folio. You get Yuengling, right?”

“I do, but I wanted to ask you about something, actually.”

He’s suddenly more nervous than ever, as Folio fixes him with a look of disgust. He wishes he’d never come here tonight, and especially that he never came up to the bar. But he’s come this far, and he’ll keep going, even as upset as he feels that maybe Folio knows something about him that he doesn’t.

“If you’re looking for Nick, no one has seen him since he took you home last week,” Folio tells him, and a shiver runs down Noah’s spine. It’s worse than he thought. “I don’t know what you did, but no one can get more than a ‘no’ from him when we ask about work or if he’s okay.”

He wants to say that he didn’t do anything wrong and then leave. He feels tears welling up and threatening to fall, and he feels mortified. But he really needs to find out what’s going on. He hates thinking that he involuntarily, maybe, ruined Nick’s life.

He sticks with the exact truth, instead. He sticks with oversharing to a stranger. He tells Folio fucking everything.

“Does he not like guys, or—” Noah starts to ask. He’s horrified to even bring it up. He finds the whole ordeal mortifying enough. “I just can’t figure out where I went wrong.” 

“Honestly, Noah, I was surprised you made it as far as you did with him,” Jolly interjects. Noah had no idea he’d been listening in and his cheeks heat. “He hasn’t really liked anyone or anything for years. Not since Jazz.”

He wonders if Jolly should be telling him this. He almost regrets asking, but he needs to know who Jazz is and what happened to make him like this. He needs to know why everything went from fine to disastrous in the blink of an eye.

“What happened with Jazz?” he asks, and Jolly’s shaking his head as soon as he’s done asking.

“Not for me to tell you. You’ll have to ask Nick.”

But he can’t ask Nick. Nick won’t respond to his fucking texts, but he’s always been persuasive. He leaves the bar with Nick’s address scrawled on a bar napkin, and he feels like a stalker. Maybe he kind of is, but he feels more hopeful than he has in a week.

Nick looks like a wreck when he pulls the door open. Noah peers past him into the apartment, and it’s even worse. He doubts he’s gone outside since the moment he stepped foot back in, and he doubts he’s slept much either, if he goes off the deep blue circles beneath his eyes. 

“What are you doing here, Noah?” Nick asks, sounding exhausted. He expected anger or distaste when he showed up at Nick’s door unannounced, but he never could have anticipated the look and sound of defeat he’s met with instead.

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay. No one’s heard from you and—” Noah starts saying, but decides to get on with it instead. He figures the best way to get his answer is to cut to the chase. “Jolly and Folio told me about Jazz.”

“They wouldn’t have.” Nick says, rolling his eyes. He’s right enough.

“So you got dumped, Nick—”

He stops before he can say the rest, because Nick growls in a way that scares him a little, makes him feel fucking ill. When Noah meets his eyes, there’s a fiery anger that, even from one of the grouchiest people he’s ever met, shocks him. He half expects the door to be slammed in his face.

“Oh, they really didn’t tell you shit,” Nick starts. This is where the disgust Noah was expecting was hiding. “Jasmine is fucking dead, Noah.”

#bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens rpf #nick ruffilo fic #nick ruffilo fanfiction #nick ruffilo rpf #nicholas ruffilo fic #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo rpf #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian rpf #noah sebastian x nick ruffilo #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo #deathblacksmoke works #fic: dramamine

[thequeenofthewinter]

Work-in-Progress Wednesday

Today, a letter from Rikke to Galmar because why not?

Tagging, but as always, you are under no obligation: @oblivions-dawn @dirty-bosmer @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @tallmatcha @skyrim-forever @bostoniangirl21 @vivifriend @umbracirrus @sylvienerevarine @stormbeyondreality @fallen-chances @ladytanithia

Galmar,

I hope this letter finds you well and that everything is going to plan back in Windhelm as I can certainly tell you things have changed in Cyrodiil. While I know that we all knew what was coming, I don’t think anyone could have prepared us for what I have seen here—and what we will see in the future. I’ll try to keep things as brief as possible in the interest of time and possible Thalmor spies.

They’re here, and they’re everywhere, but that isn’t something you don’t already know. Don’t roll your eyes at me. I can see you doing that through this parchment clear as day. What I mean to say is that they are here in a manner which are so engrained into normal life that in some ways you wouldn’t expect it: a merchant walking down the street wearing the newest Summerset trends all trimmed in fanciful needlework, a couple sitting on a park bench in Talos Plaza enjoying highly-tariffed imported confections, or even the gravedigger with neatly-manicured fingernails.

No one does those things anymore. 

Then, there are the ways you do expect. The puppet Elder Council all handpicked and placed there by Alinor. The air of oppression that is here here—a thick fog which would have Ulfric tossing and turning in his bed at night if he could feel it. I, for one, am glad he is not here. He should not have to experience this again.

Everything feels exactly as it did before Red Ring, where the air is so dense that I can barely breathe. As if something is coming, waiting to break over us at any second and with one false move everything will come tumbling down. I know it. You’d know it too if you were here. This is exactly what the Empire was trying to avoid in the first place, but perhaps it was already here just hiding under the surface. Divines know I am tired of asking myself this same question every night.

However, not everything is negative. Do you know what else there is? Hope. That same small shining beacon of determination which led us to hold the city all those years ago. It’s still here, burning bright as dragon fire. I have spoken to some of those who remain here. Our mission was successful. There are people here—regular, normal, everyday people who are ready to fight…and there are also some old contacts who are ready to take arms. What other option is there when we know what is coming? We were the ones there the first time, and we are the only ones who know that they’re capable of. I don’t know about you, but over my dead body will I allow this to happen again. There was too much carnage and too much loss. For better or worse with Ulfric in charge, I will finish what we started or see you in Sovngarde.

Take care and take caution. As I said, everything appears to be calm and stable on the outside, but the Aldmeri Dominion’s specialty is patience…and distraction. I don’t know when they’ll strike or when I’ll be coming home, but what I do know is that I’ll be waiting for you.

Yours,

Rikke

#skyrim #skyrim fanfiction #legate rikke #galmar stone fist #ulfric stormcloak #in the background but he's always there who are we kidding? #winter writes #wip Wednesday

[berenwrites]

Late Again? - Stranger Things - Steddie - PG

Rating: PG | cw: mentions of sex | tags: fluff, rich Steve, post Vecna

Prompt: Love is being late to work because you can’t ever say goodbye in a reasonable amount of time (@sharpbutsoft)

A/N: Written for @steddielovemonth day 14. Happy Valentine’s Day everyone. Hope you are having a great day full of love be it platonic or romantic.

Also on AO3 soon | All My Other Stranger Things Fic

Late Again?: Love Is Too Compelling!

“You should just quit,” Eddie said, doing his very best to drag Steve back to bed.

“And leave Robin alone?” he replied, slipping out of his boyfriend’s grip. “I couldn’t. She took a year out so she could earn some money for college, and I won’t leave to her deal with Keith on her own.”

“Let me guess, you offered to give her the money and she said no,” Eddie said, flopping back onto the pillows.

“Yep,” he said, searching around for his work vest. “She’s being stubborn, wants to earn her own way. I’ve tried explaining that since my Grandpa died I have more money than I know what to do with, but she keeps telling me I might need it in the future. It was hard enough to get her to let me pay for some proper driving lessons. Her dad is great, but good at teaching driving he is not.”

“I’ve seen her dad drive,” Eddie agreed, “he’s almost as erratic as his daughter.”

“They do take after one another sometimes,” Steve said, holding his prize aloft when he finally found his vest down the back of the nightstand.

They might have been somewhat enthusiastic the previous evening given how their clothes seemed to be in very random places. Not that Steve would ever complain. His sex life with Eddie was amazing, which went right along with how much he had fallen in love with his metalhead boyfriend.

“Please come back,” Eddie whined. “Just for five minutes.”

“You mean like yesterday’s five minutes?” he responded. “If I am late again, Robin might actually tell Keith, and I’ll have to sit through another one of his lectures about company loyalty and responsibility.”

He was very glad to find he still had plenty of clean underwear in the drawer when he pulled it open. Laundry day was a way off yet, thank heavens.

“Am I not worth it?” was Eddie’s next gamble in the dragging him back to bed game.

“Of course you’re worth it,” he said, leaning down for a quick kiss on the way to the bathroom, “but I happen to have the keys today.”

“I shall lay here and pine away thinking of how I have been abandoned,” Eddie added with huge drama.

“Write me a new song,” Steve shot back, sticking his head back into the bedroom after grabbing his toothbrush. “You know how hot I think that is.”

“I feel like an old-timey bard with a rich benefactor,” Eddie replied.

“Yeah, well when you and the band are rich and famous, I’ll be your kept man, okay?” he said with a laugh.

Eddie had tried to find a job in town after he had been begrudgingly allowed to graduate, but no one would hire him. Even though he had been completely exonerated and even made into a bit of a hero by Owens’ carefully created cover story, Hawkins was slow to believe. After Steve’s grandfather had died and he’d inherited a ridiculously large amount of money and the house in Hawkins, which it turned out his parents had never owned, Steve had offered to give Eddie the time and space to chase his dream.

It had taken some persuading, but neither of them planned to go anywhere until the kids were graduated, just in case it wasn’t as over as everyone said, so Eddie had finally acquiesced. Eddie had a set up in the basement where the band could also practice and, these days, he’d just about moved in permanently too. Technically he and Wayne had a house thanks to government hush money, but Eddie spent most of his time at Steve’s, and they had Wayne over whenever Wayne was free.

“Stevie,” Eddie called from the other room as Steve started the shower.

“Yeah?” he called back.

“Have you ever actually told Robin how much you inherited?” Eddie asked.

“Um,” he said as he thought about that. “No,” he realised, “but I did tell her I had so much I didn’t know what to do with it.”

Throwing around numbers had felt kind of wrong.

“You do realise you don’t exactly live an extravagant lifestyle these days, right?” Eddie said and Steve turned to find his boyfriend now standing in the doorway.

He shrugged.

“Guess I got used to budgeting,” he replied.

“Which is very noble, gracious knight,” Eddie said with a grin, “but are you sure she gets just how filthy rich you are now? I didn’t until you showed me the numbers.”

Steve had never thought of it like that. Throwing some of the paperwork he’d been given by the lawyers at Eddie had been part of his last-ditch attempt to convince his boyfriend to take him up on his offer.

“Ah, maybe not,” he had to admit.

“Then I shall return to bed and mourn your parting quietly today,” Eddie said, back to his dramatic flair, “but give Robin the numbers and invite her to be your live-in lesbian of leisure.”

“Our,” Steve corrected as he laughed at Eddie’s choice of words.

This was why he was sure Eddie had more than enough talent to eventually go global. One day Eddie’s words and music would be famous, he had no doubt. Using the money he had never expected to receive to give Eddie the time and space to realise his dream, seemed like the perfect plan.

“I still don’t know if she’ll say yes,” he said, pulling back the shower curtain to climb in, “but I will tell her. Now shoo before I’m tempted to be late again, because if she’s mad at me she won’t even give me the chance to talk.”

“As my liege orders,” Eddie said and bowed, which was hilarious given he was naked.

Steve gave himself a stiff mental talking to and refused to look too long. After all, he only had so much will power.

All My Other Stranger Things Fic

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie munson #eddie lives #post season 4 #steddielovemonth #eddie x steve #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steddie ficlet

[runnning-outof-time]

As Good A Place As Any | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - for @notyour-valentine ‘s 1K follower celebration

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: (Y/N) finds the perfect time to share some news she's been keeping secret for some time now.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of a miscarriage

Word Count: 3388

A/N: I’m sorry that it’s a bit late, but I just had to jump in on this amazing celebration that you were having, Val. I chose to go with ‘a reveal’ and I’ve also decided to set it within one of those fancy parties that the Shelbys throw. I hope you like it. Congrats again on 1K! Enjoy! :)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

———

"Your dress, Mrs. Shelby," Mary announced as she entered the room that the woman of the house used as an overflow closet and a space to get ready in. (Y/N) smiled widely as she saw the garment bag. She was overly eager to wear this certain dress, after having it made a few weeks ago.

"Have you seen it, Mary?" she asked the head-maid, her hands clasped together in front of her.

"I have not," Mary responded with a slight shake of her head, "but I am sure that it is gorgeous, Mrs. Shelby," she added while smiling.

"Will you help me put it on?" the younger woman then asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.

"Of course," she smiled, laying the bag out on the empty chaise lounge that was placed in the corner next to (Y/N)'s vanity.

(Y/N) swung her legs around the side of the bench she was sitting on so that her full attention could be on the reveal of the dress. Mary looked back at her and waited for the nod before she unzipped the bag to show its contents. (Y/N) just about gasped when she saw the cream-colored gown that she had custom made for this occasion. She then stood up and moved over to the lounge as Mary removed the garment and held it up for a better view. After untying her dressing robe, she giddily stepped into the gown and allowed Mary to bring it up around her body.

Once she was properly wearing the dress, (Y/N) stepped over to the floor length mirror that stood next to her vanity. She quietly looked over her figure, loving how the dress was hugging her body. It reminded her a lot of the dress that Polly had decided to wear for her portrait; the designers had done a fine job at that aspect. The only differences were that the design varied slightly — the biggest missing piece being the feather on the chest, and that the color was different than the one the Shelby family's matriarch wore. She loved how the straps hung over her upper arms like sashes, and that the neckline accentuated her body in a flattering manner while still being tastefully modest.

"Can I help you with your hair, Mrs. Shelby?" Mary asked from behind her, breaking her out of her own thoughts.

"If you don't mind, Mary," (Y/N) answered while turning to face the older woman with a smile.

"Not at all," Mary smiled back as they both moved over to the vanity.

A comfortable silence fell between them then as Mary started working on (Y/N)'s hair. (Y/N) watched through the mirror with a small smile playing on her lips. Mary most certainly knew what hairstyle would work the best with the dress she was wearing, so she put all of her trust into the older woman.

"Are you going to tell him tonight, Mrs. Shelby?" Mary asked after several minutes had passed. She was almost finished with what she was doing, which meant it was almost time for (Y/N) to get into the car and go to the event. She'd meet up with her husband, Tommy, there because he needed to leave early and ensure that the last minute preparations were finished.

"I think I am, Mary," (Y/N) answered, the nerves apparent in her voice.

"I think he'll be overjoyed with it," the older woman said, recognizing the nerves right away. She hoped that her statement would serve to quell some of them.

"You think?" (Y/N) had a hopeful tone in her voice now.

"Oh yes," Mary nodded, "you've both been waiting long for this."

"I don't know what I would have done if you wouldn't have been here when I got the call," (Y/N) stated, thinking back to the day when she'd received the news.

"I'm sure you would have been fine, love," the older woman smiled at her through the mirror. "All finished," she said then, finally dropping her hands from (Y/N)'s hair, "you're ready to go, Mrs. Shelby."

"It's gorgeous, Mary. I love it," (Y/N)'s smile widened as she took in her final look, "thank you so much," she said as she turned around to look at her.

"You're welcome, Mrs. Shelby," Mary smiled, clasping her hands together in front of her body. "I always enjoy getting to help you."

"I think I'm about ready now," (Y/N) commented as she stood from the vanity's chair and took another look at herself in the full length mirror.

"Shall I help you to your car?" Mary asked and (Y/N) nodded, making sure to grab the small clutch she'd be bringing with her before she walked to the door of the room with Mary following behind her.

She eased herself into the backseat of the car that was waiting outside and waved to Mary before the driver began their trip to the venue where the charity event was being held.

——

The driver helped (Y/N) up the steps and to the door of the venue before wishing her a good night. (Y/N) smiled at him and thanked him for his service. Once she was by herself, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. These big events were just starting to feel normal to her again. It had taken her a bit to get back into wanting to attend them after the unexpected happened to her and Tommy at one a little over a year ago. Thankfully this one was a smaller, more intimate affair, so she didn't need to worry as much about the possibility of something going on.

The first person that caught her eye was Polly. She was talking to a man and a woman, who seemed to be the man’s wife. She made her way over to the small group while greeting every person she passed. She was one of the event's hosts after all...it'd be rather rude to just ignore the other party goers.

"(Y/N)!" Polly greeted in an enthusiastic manner when she approached them, "you've made it!" (Y/N) smiled as she hugged the older woman. It was obvious that she'd also upped her host role, because Polly Gray was never that enthusiastic to see people when in private. It worked for the setting though, so (Y/N) played along.

"I figured why not be slightly fashionably late...there's no harm in that, right?" (Y/N) responded, laughing along with the rest of the group.

"No harm at all," the other woman in the group chimed in amidst the laughter.

"Your dress is stunning," Polly commented then once the laughs had ceased.

"You like it?" (Y/N) asked with a wide smile, "does it look familiar?"

"It does," Polly grinned. "I love how it turned out."

"Me too," (Y/N) agreed, glancing down at her dress again, "thank you again for letting me use the idea and run with it," she said then, calling back to the conversation they'd had a few weeks ago. (Y/N) loved the dress that Polly wore for her portrait so much that she wanted to get one along the same lines of it custom-made for this occasion.

"You've really taken it to the next level," Polly commented, her words making (Y/N)'s smile grow even wider, if that was possible.

"You're too sweet, Pol," (Y/N) gushed before realizing that the man and woman that Polly was talking to before she butted into their conversation were still standing there, watching expectantly for them to be pulled back in. "I've interrupted your previous conversation, I'm sorry for doing so," she apologized to the couple, "I'll let you get back to it...I need to go find Tommy," she added then, her final statement directed at Polly in hopes that the older woman would be able to point her in the right direction.

"I've not seen him yet," Polly told her and (Y/N) nodded anyway before going on in search of her husband. He has to be around here somewhere, she thought to herself as she ventured deeper into the party.

Instead of finding Tommy next, she found Ada. The Shelby woman's eyes lit up as she spotted her sister-in-law. "(Y/N)!" she exclaimed, opening her arms in an invitation for a hug, "you look absolutely stunning!"

"So do you, Ada," she returned the compliment as they broke apart from their embrace.

"You're literally glowing, oh my goodness," Ada continued to gush, succeeding in making (Y/N)'s cheeks heat up. "Have you been enjoying yourself so far?"

"So far, yes," (Y/N) nodded, "I've only just gotten here, and the night is still young, so who knows what may happen," she elaborated, a smile on her face. She knew of one thing that was going to be happening tonight.

"You're so right. These things make me want to lose my mind...I don't know how you're always so composed," Ada stated, exhaling a slight groan after speaking. "Speaking of losing my mind, I need a drink. Care to come with me?" she asked, motioning over to the drinks table then. Champagne had been flowing throughout the building, and almost every person had a glass in their hands. (Y/N) and Ada certainly looked like the odd ones out.

"I don't think I'll be drinking," (Y/N) declined the other woman's idea.

"No?" Ada was surprised.

"No," (Y/N) affirmed with a slight shake of her head, "I'd rather things not get too crazy for me tonight," she added an excuse then.

"Fair enough," Ada didn't fight her choice, grinning at the memory of the family Christmas party where she and (Y/N) had polished off two bottles of wine. Things most certainly did get crazy at that event.

"Have a drink for me, will you?" (Y/N) jokingly suggested, her ask making the other woman laugh.

"Of course," Ada promised her with a grin.

"Have you seen Tommy?" (Y/N) decided to ask then, glancing around the room once more in hopes to catch a glimpse of her husband.

"I believe he's talking with Roland Weatherington about the export venture," Ada answered, also looking around the room then. Silence fell between them for a few moments before she spoke again, "he is. He's just over there," she confirmed, pointing over to where the tables were set up for the guests on the right side of the room.

(Y/N) looked in that direction and found Tommy rather quickly. She wondered why she didn't see him earlier. "Thank you, Ada," she smiled at the other woman, getting ready to go greet her husband for the first time that night. She just hoped that he wouldn't get too angered by her jumping into his conversation.

"You're welcome. I'll see you later, yeah?" Ada asked, her eyebrows slightly raised.

"Most definitely," (Y/N) nodded with a smile before they went in different directions. She could feel the butterflies start to pick up as she neared Tommy. He always looked so good in the tuxedos that he wore for these occasions. It was most certainly her special treat for having to endure these events. "Hi, Tommy," she greeted as she approached him and the other man, "am I finding you at a bad time?" she asked then, not wanting to speak any further if he was already invested in a business-based conversation.

Tommy's eyes found her almost immediately. "No, love, of course not," he shook his head, happy to finally see her after spending most of the day apart. "C'mere," he beckoned her over to his side with a slight nod of his head, and she listened, slotting herself next to him so that he could place his hand on the small of her back. "This is Roland Weatherington," he then began introductions after realizing they were in order, "Mr. Weatherington, this is my wife, (Y/N)."

"It's nice to meet you, (Y/N)," Mr. Weatherington smiled as he extended his hand out for her to shake.

"You as well," she smiled back as she shook his hand.

"I've heard so much about all of your time spent with the children at the home. They are really blessed to have someone like you as a constant in their otherwise uncertain lives," he said then, and (Y/N) swore she felt happier just at the mention of the children and her time spent with them.

"He's decided to give a donation to the home in Birmingham," Tommy informed her, a smile on his face as well. This was such a major project for him, and seeing it do so well brought so much joy to his heart. He slept soundly at night knowing that the children left to the streets of Birmingham didn't have to go through the things that he went through as a child.

"Really?" (Y/N) beamed as she heard the news, "oh, that's so very kind of you, Mr. Weatherington."

"It's the least that I could do," the man answered her, a look of gratitude on his face.

"Tommy, it's time," Polly came over to the group then, telling Tommy that it was time to deliver a formal thanks to all of the guests for attending the event.

"It was nice speaking with you, Mr. Weatherington," Tommy addressed the man standing across from him.

"As was with you, Mr. Shelby," Roland returned the sentiment, "I will be speaking with you more in the future." He watched as Tommy nodded in approval of his statement before he left the other three for his table.

"Come with me?" Tommy asked (Y/N) as he looked over at her. (Y/N) only nodded as she sent a smile his way. That was all Tommy nodded to take her hand into his and follow Polly to the open area of the venue.

(Y/N) stood by his side as he addressed the crowd, thanking them for coming and for supporting the children of Birmingham who didn't have a place to call their own prior to the Shelbys' stepping in. She couldn't help but smile proudly as she watched him speak, feeling overwhelmingly blessed for getting to call him 'her person'. He looked over at her as the crowd applauded his speech, and she swore that they were the only two people in the world...well, not quite - there was someone else too. Which made (Y/N) realize that this was the perfect time to tell him what she'd be wanting to the entire night.

"I'm pregnant, Tommy," she told him, deciding to come right out with the news instead of building up to it.

"That's great, love," he answered her, smiling before he looked away. (Y/N) watched him carefully as his eyes darted around the room, and saw the realization slowly seep into his features. "Wait..." he trailed off, his now wide eyes finding hers again.

"We're having a baby," she told him again, already feeling the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Really?" he asked for further confirmation, even though she'd explicitly told him twice already.

"Yes," she nodded, laughing slightly at his shocked expression.

“Wait…” he still seemed a bit confused, and it was obvious to (Y/N) that his mental gears were turning, “why tell me here?” he asked with furrowed eyebrows.

He had a good point. Why did she choose to tell him this intimate news while standing in a large room full of people? “I figured this was as good a place as any,” she shrugged slightly.

“Even after everything?” he asked another question, alluding to the past that they shared with these types of events.

She knew exactly what he was talking about. Many of her previous nights were plagued with nightmares of the charity event where she suffered a very early miscarriage due to the shock and fear that stemmed from a man breaking into the venue and attempting to carry out a hit on Tommy. The attempt was quickly neutralized by his brothers, but (Y/N)’s pregnancy was unable to be saved. But better days were on the horizon now, she knew that they were.

“Yes,” she nodded definitively, “it feels like a full circle moment,” she said with a smile.

“Full circle indeed,” Tommy grinned.

He never thought that he’d hear this news so soon, especially after what they’d gone through a year ago. An overwhelming amount of joy surged through his body, and he had to fight the urge to let the tears fall from where they were welling up in his eyes. It wouldn’t be a good look for the Tommy Shelby to be crying in the middle of a room filled with his prestigious counterparts, but he was damn sure about to.

So instead of letting them fall, he grabbed hold of (Y/N)’s face and brought her lips to his in a passionate kiss, showing her just how excited he was to hear this news. “I’ve got a good feeling about it all this time, Tommy,” (Y/N) whispered against his lips once they pulled away.

“Yeah?” he breathed, truly feeling like they were the only two in the room now.

“Yeah,” she affirmed, giggling slightly before she reached up to wipe the smudged lipstick off of his bottom lip.

Tommy chuckled as he realized what she was doing. “Thanks for looking out for me,” he said, his grin still present.

“Always,” she winked before pecking his lips once more. She repeated the previous process when she pulled away, making sure his lips didn’t have any added color to them. Tommy shook his head slightly at her. “I couldn’t help myself,” she defended her actions while grinning like a fool.

“You never can,” he teased her, wanting to cling onto this reverie as long as he could.

“Do you blame me?” she quipped, raising her eyebrows as she recognized what he was doing. This was something she could happily play along with.

“No,” he shook his head again, pressing a kiss to her forehead this time before he dropped his hands from her cheeks to her waist. “I can’t help myself neither…especially when you give me such wonderful news.”

“You two wanna join the rest of the party again?” Polly’s voice cut into their bubble before (Y/N) could say what she wanted back to him.

(Y/N) finally broke her eyes away from Tommy’s to face the older woman, a sheepish look clear on her features as she did so. “I was just sharing some news with Tommy,” she explained, having no desire of holding the secret back anymore.

“Some news?” Polly was immediately intrigued by the other woman’s statement.

“I’m pregnant, Pol,” (Y/N) broke the news, and Polly’s arms were wrapped around her within seconds.

“I knew it,” Polly whispered into (Y/N)’s ear as she hugged her tightly, “and what a place to share it…it’s always refreshing to erase what’s happened in the past with something good.”

“You’re most definitely right,” (Y/N) nodded once they pulled away from each other.

Polly sent (Y/N) a wide smile and squeezed her shoulders before she set her attention on Tommy. “Congratulations, Thomas,” she said sincerely as she then pulled her nephew into a tight hug. (Y/N) didn’t know how Tommy was keeping it together, because she was just about bawling at the touching nature of the moment they were all sharing.

She recognized the second they pulled apart, however, that he wasn’t doing the best job. “Thank you, Pol,” he choked out, nodding his head as he discretely tried to swipe away the tears that were threatening to fall. (Y/N) caught him though, and that was what made her floodgates open.

Polly paid no attention to the tearful couple as she took both of their hands and began leading them over to where the rest of the Shelby family was congregated at their reserved table. She said something about sharing this news with the rest of the family as soon as possible, and (Y/N) was only able to send one more quick smile in Tommy’s direction before going into doing just what Polly suggested.

———

Tagged: @mgcllovdrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @golden-hoax @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #valentines1k

[coreene]

Lorelei explores their campsite and finds a place to have a little fun on her own. Astarion finds her and decides he wants to be a part of it.

tags: voyeurism, masturbation, mutual masturbation, dirty talk

We were camping in an old ruin this time around. There were remnants of stone walls all around us. Another clue that we were getting closer to the city. I wanted to explore the area little bit after dinner. There was a small ruin nearby that seemed intact for the most part.

I made my way to it. It was big enough to hold maybe ten people inside. A simple design with a rectangular floor plan; all four of its walls were still standing. It had small arched windows with stained glass, although only one of the windows was still standing. It looked like the others were cracked and disappeared long ago.

I walked inside through the door opening. The door was missing and the surrounding stone bricks of the entry way were the only part of the structure that was broken down. Inside there were stone furniture. A small table by the wall, which looked like an altar. A library next to it with a few benches scattered around. There was also a lavish looking chair with armrests right across it. As intricate the stonework was, the furniture did not look comfortable. It was possibly a shrine; for which deity I could not tell.

I looked around the small room hoping for scrolls. There was nothing but that was a slim chance anyway. I sat down on the altar, looking outside through the only window with the intact glass; trying to figure out the scene. The place was not old enough to be dedicated to one of the forgotten gods but my religion knowledge was embarrassing. Maybe I could bring Shadowheart over here to figure out what it was.

The other windows allowed the full moonlight to enter the room. It was a bright and clear sky tonight. A rather beautiful sight. I listened in the silence a little bit. I could faintly hear the chatter and the laughter coming from the camp fire. Everyone was in high spirits, leaving the cursed lands and being so close to the city was giving us a hopeful outlook on our future.

I told them I was going to look around a little and I should've probably went back now. But then a thought creeped up to the front of my mind. I hadn’t caught a moment alone in a long time and it has been even longer since the last time I had a wet dream. While I was happy with how the things were between Astarion and I, I could use a little release now.

I still had some hesitation but I could already feel the throb in my clit. When was I going to catch a moment to do this again? I only needed a few minutes, and I would be back in no time.

I got comfortable on the altar, leaning back against the wall. I unlaced my trousers with one hand and slipped my fingers under my panties. I sighed when I felt the touch of my own fingers on my now fully swollen clit. It felt like it had been so long since I was touched.

"Fuck," I gasped at the sensation as I started to draw circles with my fingers.

My breathing was picking up now. I could feel my juices poling between my legs. I closed my eyes, leaning behind completely as I alternated between circling my clit and dipping my hands lower to gather my arousal. I needed to be a little more wet before I could slip my fingers inside.

"My my, what do we have here?"

I opened my eyes and pulled my hands out of my pants with a gasp. There Astarion was, leaning against the half-collapsed wall looking at me with hungry eyes, wearing a smirk.

"Astarion!" I breathed, relieved that it was him and not somebody else. Still the shock had left my heart pounding in my ears.

"Please, don't stop on my account, my love," he spoke in a deep sultry tone.

I blinked a few times, trying to understand what he was saying. "Oh? Does that mean you would like to watch?" I asked with a flirtatious smile, tilting my head.

"Mm-hm," he hummed walking in between my legs. “As long as that’s something you’d want.”

“Yes,” I breathed, feeling the wetness between my legs grow.

“Good.” He grabbed my chin and tilted my face upwards as he leaned down. He gave me an open-mouthed kiss; darting his tongue in and out, sucking my lower lip into his mouth, grazing my lip with his teeth.

I was left breathless when he pulled back. All I could do as I took deep breaths was watch him settle on the chair. He placed his hands on the arm rests, opening his legs slightly. I bit my lip as my eyes trailed from what was between his legs to his crimson eyes.

“Comfortable?” I asked with a slight smirk, still breathing heavily.

“Very… now, go on,” he purred as he leaned back, licking his lips.

My hands went back to my pants timidly. I was suddenly very aware of his burning gaze and it was sending blood up to my face. I was feeling a lot warmer than before.

I gasped again when I felt the touch of my fingers on my swollen clit. I looked back at him when I found a comfortable rhythm. My breath got caught in my throat as I saw his soft expression filled with want.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered deeply.

It was too godsdamned hot in here now. I pulled my hand out of my pants and pushed the hem of my shirt up and out, throwing it to the ground - not taking my eyes off of him. He was smiling now.

"Would you like to tell me what you're thinking?" I asked him with a breathy voice as I unhooked my bra and threw it down.

He watched the piece of clothing touch the floor and then his eyes trailed back up to my face.

"I'd be happy to," his gaze fell down to my chest and then back up to my face. "I was just thinking how much I wanted to suck on your nipples and watch them grow hard."

I groaned as his words sent a wave of arousal to my clit.

"Then I would like to push those pants off of you as I teased your skin."

"Mm, you mean like this?" I said getting up before sliding my hands down my stomach and under the waist band of my pants. I pushed the trousers down along with my panties, slowly, giving him a full show.

"Yes," he swallowed "just like that."

I stepped out of the last piece of clothing on my body as I stood bare in front of him. Watching him intently, as his eyes travelled up; lingering on my thighs and chest before settling back on my face.

"Would you like to know what I'm thinking?" I asked with a mischievous smile, noticing him straining in his pants now.

"Gods, yes," he breathed with half lidded eyes.

"I was thinking how much I would like to just kneel right here, in front of you now," I leaned back on the altar, looking into his eyes. "Stroke your aching dick through your pants, pushing up your shirt and giving kisses to your stomach."

"Fuck," he groaned "keep going."

"And then I would free your magnificent cock, lick it from base to tip before I wrapped my lips around it. Do you want to know what I would do after?" I said opening my legs as my fingers found their way back to my clit. I was so wet now.

"Yes, Lore, please," he whispered, eyes focused on what my hand was doing.

"I would bring your hand to my hair because I want you to have all the control, push and pull my head just the way you like it."

"Gods, you're gonna make me come untouched," he let out a soft laugh.

"Now, that's a thought… I'd love to see happen," I gave him a smirk.

"You tease," he said with a chuckle but I could hear the strain in his voice.

I leaned back to the wall completely. I opened my legs more as my hand started to move faster. I dipped down feeling my slick; I was wet enough for my fingers now. He got up from the chair and walked right next to me. I was holding my breath; wondering what he was going to do next.

"Keep going," he whispered and I did as he said.

He placed his hands around my waist, the difference in temperature making me jump slightly as he let out a slight chuckle. He brought his lips to my ears before he spoke. "Would you like to know what I'm thinking now?"

"Gods, yes," I breathed, feeling his fingers teasing my skin. Every little movement he made sent another jolt of arousal through my body.

"There are no gods here, say my name," he said in a deeper voice.

"Astarion," I moaned and started to draw bigger, lazier circles so I wouldn't come so soon.

"Good girl," he placed his other hand to my face.

"Ah, fuck," his words were sending wave after wave of pleasure through my body. "I'm going to come."

"Not before you push those fingers in," he said brushing back a strand of my hair.

"But I can't come with just them alone," I whined as the tips of my fingers stroke my entrance up and down, gathering slick.

"It's alright. That just means we have more time for this." He said as he looked down, leaning his head onto mine.

The fact that he was watching me so intently was doing things to me. Maybe I would be able to come with my fingers alone, who knows?

My fingers teased my entrance a few more times before one of them slid inside. I was so tight; I could feel it move inside my walls.

"How does that feel?" He whispered as he left a kiss to my sweat covered cheek.

"Good," I said as I started to pump my finger in and out.

"Can you push another finger inside?" He asked with his hand on my waist, stroking my skin lovingly.

"Yes," I breathed and pushed my second finger in with the other. Once I was comfortable with the stretch, I slowly started to move my fingers in and out again.

"You've been so good, you deserve a little reward," he said tilting my head to him with his fingers as he leaned down and captured my lips.

I moaned into his mouth, prompting a chuckle from him. Suddenly it didn't feel all that impossible to come on my fingers. I found the perfect angle to stimulate my clit with each stroke. I arched my back into his body as his hand on my head moved to my back, pulling me flush with him. I could feel how hard he was in his pants. Gods, I wanted him inside me. I missed his dick so much.

"Astarion," I moaned the movement of my hands growing erratic "I'm going to come." We were both breathing heavily now. He removed his hand from my waist as I faintly heard the shuffle of his pants.

I closed my eyes at the sensation of my fingers and the feeling of his lips, lavishing me with kisses. His lips moved on from my open mouth to my jaw and to my neck. I was moaning louder and louder with each touch. I faintly registered him pulling his cock free. He pulled his body back, only a little, to give himself room to stroke himself. I wanted to touch him so badly.

"Come for me, my love," he whispered, lips right next to my ear. He gave a sloppy kiss to my ear as he breathed out.

It was enough. Everything; his breath, his proximity, my fingers working in and out – it was more than enough for me to reach my climax. He held me tight as my body convulsed uncontrollably in pleasure. I could feel the clenching of my own walls around my fingers. They were begging to milk his cock.

I was still dizzy with my high but I wanted to see him. He was stroking himself faster now.

"Do you want to come on my body?" I whispered.

"Yes," he spoke with desperation, eyes closed shut.

"Come on my tits, paint them white with your seed. I want to taste you so badly." I spoke as I pulled my fingers out. They were slick with my arousal.

He opened his eyes, looking down on me. I brought my hand to my nipples, pinching and rubbing. They were glistening with my wetness now. He groaned, his strokes getting erratic. He was close. He captured my lips again as a moan escaped his mouth and I felt him spurt his come on my nipples.

"Lorelei," he moaned between our kisses as he continued to shoot his seed, covering my breasts in creamy cum.

He leaned his forehead onto mine when he finished, pulling me into a deep kiss.

"I love you so much," he said when he pulled back, breathing heavily.

"I love you too," I whispered as I felt my eyes burning. I was so happy. I looked up at him, looking down on me. Realising what he was doing, I leaned back on my hands, raising my chest so he could admire his work.

"Gods you look beautiful," he said with twinkles in his eyes. He was loving this.

I moved a finger to my breasts, gathering some of his spend and bringing it down to my wet pussy lips, mixing them. I lifted my finger, now covered in both his cum and mine, back to my lips. I looked into his eyes as I sucked my fingers like it was the most delicious thing in the world.

"You are a temptress," he said with a chuckle.

"I know," I laughed with him.

I was sweaty and covered in cum. While I loved the way I looked at the moment I was acutely aware of the cold night air, now that I wasn't running so hot anymore. I felt my nipples harden painfully as a shiver past me.

"We need to get you cleaned up." He tucked himself in and went back to the entryway.

"Hmm, there are still some people around the fire." He said looking out. He came back to my side, picking up a handkerchief from his pocket. “This’ll have to do for now.”

I watched him as he gently cleaned up the last of his spend. He then looked at me with a smirk. “Or maybe we can ask Gale for a little prestidigitation spell?”

I shook my head side to side with a smile. “You offered to let them watch this morning. Now you want me to go over there with your cum on my chest for a spell… is there something you want to tell me?”

He let out a loud laugh as he pulled back. “I just enjoy showing you off, my dear.”

I chuckled and jumped down from the table, finding my underpants and trousers. I pulled them up with one motion and moved onto hooking my bra. “We should probably get back. Before one of them decides to look for us.” I said as I put on my tunic.

“Let’s go,” he held my hand, interlocking our fingers and we walked out of the entry way. I hugged his arm and leaned onto him as we made our way back to the fire.

from chapter 39 of Lorelei's Journal

#Astarion x Tav #tavstarion #Astarion x Female Tav #Astarion #BG3 Astarion #Astarion Ancunin #Baldur's Gate 3 Astarion #Bg3 #Bg3 Spoilers #Astarion Fanfic #Astarion Fic #Astarion Smut

[demiaroacejolynekujo]

This post contains some spoilers from The Amazing Digital Circus. This post also contains critiques in regard to Vivziepop, Helluva Boss, and Hazbin Hotel. Vivziepop stans (as in the people who defend her work and her as a person) are not allowed to interact with me. Any Vivziepop fan who sends me asks (especially Anon asks) will be deleted. Any fans who DM me will have their message deleted and will be blocked. Finally, anyone who screenshots this post and makes a post tagging me in it to defending Vivziepop will be blocked.

I'm not trying to get people to harass Vivziepop and harass anyone who is a fan of her. And I'm not trying to stop people from supporting Vivziepop and not trying to make people feel bad about supporting her either. Watch whatever you want. Take this post with a grain of salt. And if you get somewhat upset with the criticisms I have for Vivziepop, then that's your problem.

Vivziepop antis and critical fans are allowed to interact.

Earlier today, I watched The Amazing Digital Circus, and these are my final thoughts.

Honestly, the pilot was really good, and I'm looking forward to it finally becoming a full-fledged series. And I'm looking forward to it expanding the Lore as well. I'm curious as to how Pomni got trapped there in the first place and other stuff like the void and the exit door thing.

What I appreciate it is that it didn't need copious amounts of swearing, unlike other comedy web series like Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss. There were swears, but they were more spread out and brief on top of the swears being censored.

Even though Gooseworx has worked with Vivziepop in the past, I find TADC to be leagues better than HH and HB. I've seen a video about the drama surrounding Gooseworx, but from what I've seen,the stuff they have done is much more tame than the shit Vivziepop has pulled.

I hope to see more Amazing Digital Circus content to come out in the future. I'm interested as to see where the series will go. Unlike Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss, it didn't feel like I was watching something that felt like it was created by an edgy middle schooler. The female characters had much more personality than the ones from HH and HB, despite it being just a pilot.

Another thing to point out is that the cast of TADC had a lot of fresh faces to the voice acting industry, unlike Hazbin and Helluva Boss, where Vivziepop relied on casting big name actors in order to garner more attention to her work. And I'm going to be fully honest, I find it really sus at the fact that the OG cast of HH couldn't return because they didn't unionize in order to get their roles back. A lot of them were fully new to the industry, too, which is the sad part. I wish that Vivziepop wouldn't rely on hiring big-name actors in her work and would hire people who are very new to the voice acting scene who are desperate to land a role as some of them rely on voice acting as their main source of income.

To end this post, I just want to point out that I'm not blaming Vivziepop for the fact that the original cast of Hazbin Hotel didn't get their roles back. But at the same time, that whole situation feels questionable to me. Until I hear the full story about it, then I'll decide if she should be held accountable or not. However, the whole hiring big actors thing has been a critique of mine for a while on top of the use of the r slur in Helluva Boss (even though it was only said once and was almost again, it shouldn't have been used at all as it's an ableist slur and I'm a disabled person who has been called the r slur many times in the past). I'm fully aware that HB takes place in hell, but using hell as a way to excuse the use of the r slur is ableist. It's still ableist to call someone the r slur regardless of the setting and the context. The r slur should never be used as a way to call someone stupid. I'm not sure if Vivziepop wrote the script herself, but whoever is in charge of the script should be careful of the type of language they use in the show. I'm fully aware that both Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel are adult shows, but it doesn't mean it's an excuse to normalize offensive and bigoted language. It doesn't help that the shows poorly portray women (like how Millie is just reduced to being Moxxie's wife and likes killing) even though the creator of both shows is a woman.

I'm just gonna stop here for now. I'm going to go back to waiting for more Amazing Digital Circus content to come out.

#the amazing digital circus #anti vivziepop #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop critique #anti helluva boss #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #anti hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique

[vivwritesfics]

The King, His Men and I

Part Six

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: Prince Remus never wanted to get married. He loved his single life, being in love with his best friends and not being king. But then his father sets him up. Remus never wanted to fall in love for the forth time. Neither did his guards. Neither did his wife to be. But none of them could help it

School is well and truly kicking my ass and I have a job now! But uploads will be slow, sorry :(

Also got the sudden urge to be that bitch who suddenly dresses like her favourite characters :(

REPOST BECAUSE WE WEREN'T SHOWING UP IN TAGS!

POLY!MARAUDERS X FEMALE!READER

ROYAL!AU

“What the hell?!” Y/N shrieked, jumping away from Remus. She stared at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to do it again.

The boys stared at him, too. They’d never seen Remus act like this before. “Rem,” Sirius whispered, his brows furrowed. Remus, possessive? He never thought he’d see the day. 

“Okay, No,” Y/N said and moved further away from this. “If you’re going to be like this, you will be attending tea alone, Prince Remus. Good day!” She said and bowed. After that, Y/N turned to Sir James. “Please, take me back to my room,” she said.

James gave Remus a look, one eyebrow raised, pushed his glasses up his nose and offered his arm to Y/N. Glaring at Remus, Y/N took his arm and allowed James lead her back towards the castle. 

When Remus nodded, James took Y/N back towards the castle. He knew that look meant something, just not what it meant. Remus had something up his sleeve, James knew, he just wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it was. 

“Ugh, I can’t believe him!” Y/N expressed as soon as they were far enough away. “I mean, how can you be that much of a… a…” But she couldn’t find the word, letting out a frustrated scream.

“Your highness,” James began, but Y/N held up her hands, stopping him. 

“Just Y/N, remember?”

He sucked in a breath. “Y/N, I’ve never seen him do anything like that before,” James said. “I swear to you, he didn’t mean anything by it.”

Before James could say anything more, Y/N stopped walking. They were in an empty corridor, an alcove beside them. The next second James was in the alcove, Y/N’s lips against his. For a second, he didn’t kiss back, but then he did, his hands on her waist. Y/N was slow and gentle and James let her lead. 

It must have been minutes before she pulled away. “I knew it,” she whispered and stepped out of the alcove. “I fucking knew it. You’re the guard to my future husband, yet you kissed me back.”

“Y/N”

“Better hope that Prince of yours gets his act together, James.”

***

Y/N didn’t know what was going through her head. Sure, all he did was growl at her, but wait, he fucking growled at her! Her face became hot as she thought about it again. “Ass,” She whispered as she walked over to her window. 

They were still down there, Remus and Sirius. Y/N couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they were very animated. 

Distracted, good. Y/N changed out of her dress, really dressing down. She donned pants and a hat, hiding herself. “Lily?” She shouted, and, when she got no response, she walked out of her room. 

Y/N hoped the queen had Lily busy doing something enjoyable. Because, if not, Y/N was about to get her in a boat load of trouble. 

With the hat covering her head, Y/N headed out of the castle. Nobody stopped her, nobody forced her to bring an escort. She practically skipped her way out of the castle and down to the town. 

The tavern where she first met Sirius was full of life. People celebrating. Y/N didn’t know what they were celebrating, but she joined in. She found a small group of maidens in the tavern, bought them a couple of drinks and instantly made friends with them.

“It’s a joyous day!” The maiden shouted and climbed onto the table. She held out the drink in front of her and began dancing, pulling Y/N up with her. Y/N cheered, but she didn’t know why.

Stepping down from the table, Y/N turned to another one of the maidens. “What are we celebrating?” She asked, taking a swig of her drink.

“The castle is throwing a ball! The entire kingdom has been invited!” 

Y/N froze up. The castle. Throwing a ball. It was most definitely for her. And she’d have to be there with Remus. The man she had just run away from. “What’s the matter?” Asked the maiden.

Shaking her head, Y/N finished off her drink at an impressive speed. It was incredible, how quickly it disappeared. “Who wants another!” She shouted across the tavern and everybody cheered once again. 

***

Remus could hear the tavern before he could see it. 

When the princess was discovered missing, Sirius admitted he could’ve known where she was. The three of them dressed down, became unrecognisable to the people of the town, and walked down to the tavern.

When Remus walked in, Y/N was standing on a table. He clocked her instantly, but Y/N remained unaware. Remus pulled Sirius close. "Catch her here a lot?" He asked and Sirius shook his head, his hair bouncing everywhere. 

But he could understand it now - they both could. There was no harm in trying to live a little before becoming tied to a man you hardly knew. 

After a few minutes of all three boys trying to navigate around the patrons of the tavern, Y/N spotted them. They clearly weren't regulars, with little to no idea how to react in an environment such as this. Back home, Y/N was the one to get the crowds up and singing. She thrived in this joyous chaos. 

In her head, Y/N screamed at herself to turn and run. To get lost in the woods. But she stayed, her legs moving her closer to the bar. 

"What can I get you fellas?" She asked the three of them, fishing through her pockets for coins. 

For a minute, Remus said nothing. He called for three ales and refused her coin. Y/N got herself another tankard of something. When they all had their drinks, Remus held out his hand. “I’m Remus,” he said and gave her a look. He just had to hope she could pick up what that look meant. 

There was a second where Y/N couldn’t work out whether he was joking or not. There was no way he didn’t know it was her, not since her hat had gone missing in the crowd. But then Y/N picked up on the look. “Y/N, pleasure to meet you,” she said and shook his hand. 

Now you, dear reader, may be wondering what’s going on. What is Remus thinking, and why is he pretending to not know Y/N? How are they going to tell everybody that the princess has been found? My instincts tell me to leave things on a cliffhanger, but I’m not that much of a bitch. 

Remus hadn’t thought about what he was going to do when Y/N finally noticed him. But his plan went like this: When she finally saw him he was going to pretend like they were strangers, act as though they had never met. Get to know each other outside of all of the formality. For this afternoon they wouldn’t be royal. He’d be getting the tea he’d wanted to attend, but in the form of ale. 

James and Sirius stepped back. It wasn’t their place to interrupt, to pull Y/N’s attention away from Remus. They watched from afar as the pair began talking, taking a swig of their drinks between every sentence. Several young maidens came up to Sirius and James, but they shook their heads and sent them on their way. Both men knew what they wanted and they didn’t know how to settle for anything less. 

“Yeah!” Y/N shouted, her drink spilling as she leaned towards the bar. Remus had asked her something and she’d instantly burst into a story from her childhood. “We were riding through the forest and, I shit you not, I saw a fairy! Flew right in front of me!”

Remus laughed. It wasn’t impossible, he’d be the first to tell you that. “Well, when I was a kid, I went into the woods, and–”

But he wasn’t supposed to say that. He stopped himself before he said too much, before he revealed what he really was. 

“You know what, Y/N? I think I’d like to take you home.”

Things became slightly real then, for the both of them. But in her intoxicated state, Y/N didn’t notice. “I think you should kiss me first, Remus.”

And he did kiss her. They’d kissed before, sure, but this was different. They were strangers now, Remus supposed. But her tongue was down his throat and Remus knew he’d never get enough of it. 

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