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livinginshambles · 9 months

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I'll reschedule | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: James faces the consequences of his actions. A confrontation goes wrong and you have a chat with Sirius.

Notes: Thank you guys for your kind comments! I hope I tagged everyone that wanted to be tagged. Also the parent part is very self-indulgent lmao

Part one Masterlist

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James spent the following days trying to get your attention and receiving a taste of his own medicine.

You gave him another smile that didn’t fully reach your eyes and he cursed at himself for somehow having your relationship feel so distant and awkward. He was your boyfriend for Merlin’s sake!

“I can’t, I’m-“

“-sorry, yeah. I know.” James almost let out a pained laugh at the irony of the situation.

‘Oh how the tables have turned,’ James bitterly thought to himself in defeat. You leaned forward as if you were going to give him a kiss, his heart jumping at the thought.

He realised in horror that he couldn’t recall the last time he had given you a proper kiss on the lips and could do nothing but watch in disappointment as you changed your mind mid-step and left for whatever it was that you had planned, with nothing but a small wave.

James spent the next day in class stealing glances at you. You noticed it of course, but couldn’t bring yourself to look back, humiliation at his words still lingering in the back of your mind. ‘Why are feelings so complicated’, you groaned in dismay.

You sighed and buried your face in your hands, arms propped up by your elbow on your desk. You’d talk to him tomorrow. Tomorrow was the last day before Christmas holidays. If everything went south, you’d be able to escape for two weeks. Not that you needed that back up plan. Everything was going to be fine.

Everything was not fine.

“You were eavesdropping on us?!” James shouted out, an offended look on his face and his hands thrown in the air. You visible winced at his loud voice.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the fact that of all the things you said, what you finally confessed about your feelings, that that’s what he picked up on.

You stared at him in disbelief for a moment. Your mouth open while you tried to look for words.

“You’re really going to- you know what? Yes. And I’m sorry for eavesdropping alright? In fact, I too would’ve preferred not to have heard you guys say those horrible things, but I did hear it all, and you did say all that,” you shot back angrily.

“But if you wanted me to back off and be less of a clingy, high maintenance attention demanding loner, then maybe, just maybe,” you stressed the word maybe. “You could’ve pulled me aside and told me you were embarrassed of me in private, instead of telling all your friends except for me! That’s not how a relationship works, that’s cowardice.”

“Oh so you’re an expert on relationships now?” He scoffed. “How would you know how relationships are supposed to work, I’m the first bloody friend and boyfriend you’ve ever had! If not for me, you would have no one.” He spat out the last sentence and as soon as it left his mouth, he clamped his mouth shut and took two steps back in disbelief at his own words. Regret immediately setting in.

Your face was heating up, in embarrassment and anger. You took a few steps back in shock as well. You wanted to yell at him, tell him that you’d become friends with your potions partner recently, that he wouldn’t know that, because he’d been acting like an arse with his head stuck up in it, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to fight. You took a deep breath.

‘Count to ten, Y/N.’

James opened his mouth and closed it again, no words coming out, still shocked at himself. He felt like he was in a daze, that this was a bad dream.

The silence was too much, the tension too high. He half expected you to reach out and slap him across the face, but also knew you wouldn’t. So instead he stood there frozen, awaiting your reaction.

James could feel blood rushing in his ears before you finally broke the silence.

“That’s not how a relationship works for me,” you repeated calmly but firmly, completely disregarding his insult. This time however, you emphasized the last two added words.

James seemed to sober up alarmingly fast at that. He shot up in panic and shook his head in denial. “No, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean any of it! I’m not embarrassed of you, Darling. I’m not, I promise,” he tried, finally finding the words.

He looked at you pleadingly and watched helplessly as you pulled a hand through your hair in a distressed manner, jerking away from him when he reached out to you.

It was quiet again in the room. The only sounds your heavy breathing.

“It’s not working for me.” You eventually whispered, hurt evident in your voice at your sad realisation. You said it more to yourself than to him, but his ears caught it anyway.

James’ heart skipped in fear. The implication of your words were crystal clear to him. It smacked him in square the face and had him physically reel back. He stumbled back into the nearest wall. It hadn’t even occurred to him that you two breaking up was ever a possibility. You were madly in love with each other. And he loved you so incredibly much, you knew that, right? He felt nauseous.

You didn’t spare him another glance and stumbled away, desperate to get away from him. James’ knees buckled and he sunk to the floor, shock keeping the tears at bay for now.

Everything was really not fine.

“Prongs! Welcome back mate, I heard you’re a free man again!” Sirius greeted James with a cheer and a slap on the back when entered the common room. Sirius was wearing a big grin on his face.

James jerked away and furiously shook his head. “No, she- we haven’t broke up,” He insisted. “We had a fight b-but, we never officially said we were done, so we’re still- she’s still my girlfriend. So don’t say that, it's not true-“

Sirius noticed how distraught James actually was about the situation and the grin abruptly fell off his face, making space for concern. He put his hand on James shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. He threw a look at Peter and Remus who looked taken aback by his defensive tone, also looking concerned.

“Okay,” Sirius nodded. “She’s still your girl, Prongs. Understood.” James nodded back and then shook Sirius’ arm off his shoulder and went upstairs to their room, plopping down on his bed, smothering his head in his pillow where he could finally cry.

You took the train and left Hogwarts that very same day. You called your dad and he promised to come pick you up at the platform. When you saw him, the only one on the platform so late in the evening, you ran up to him and he held you tightly. “Come on, sweetheart,” he nodded in appreciation at the elf who brought your luggage and brought you home.

You sighed and plopped on your bed, face first into the mattress. Exhaustion downing on you all at once and you fell asleep within minutes.

Your mother knocked on the door, knowing that that sufficed as you were a light sleeper. “Honey?” She called. “I know it’s late, but I think you should eat something nonetheless.” You made a noise.

“That mean I can come in?”

You lift you head up so you could say yes and she came in with a bowl of soup. You gratefully accepted it and she took the liberty of sitting next to you.

“You want to tell me about it?”

“Not really,” you admitted and your mother gave you and understanding look. “Then we’ll keep you distracted for now. In fact, the day after tomorrow, your father and I are having dinner with the Black family. You could come with us.”

“But it’ll just be all business talk,” you groaned, placing your bowl of soup on your night stand.

“Yeah, well you know the Black family is the main investor in your father’s business, business talk is unavoidable. But you know what, it wouldn’t be just business. They said that they would love to meet you.”

‘Doubtful,’ you thought.

“I’ll think about it.” You replied.

“That’s okay, you have another day to consider it.” And with that, your mother kissed your forehead before leaving your room, taking the empty bowl with her. “Goodnight honey,” she said before closing the door gently. ‘Sirius was always spending his holidays at Hogwarts, so it’d be safe to go,’ you considered.

‘So the fates are really into proving me wrong, lately huh,” you thought to yourself as you spotted Sirius with a scowl on his face, standing with his parents in front of their manor to great you.

And so, before you know it, you were sitting at the end of the ridiculously long table, in front of Sirius. You wondered where his younger brother Regulus was. “Let the children sit together, business is boring to them anyways,” you father had said.

Though he hadn’t been wrong, you would pay to be part of the adult talks rather than sit here in awkward silence, avoiding Sirius’ eyes.

The past three days had been a rollercoaster for Sirius. First, he had been mildly annoyed at the letter that came with an owl that belonged to his mother. Then, he had been absolutely dreading going home. He also felt bad and concerned for James, because he was being a sad pile of bones. And when he saw you, surprise and guilt seeped in. A real rollercoaster.

Sirius kept staring intensely at you. Finally, you’ve had enough and you snapped at him. “What do you want.”

“I need to talk to you, privately.”

“Why would I talk with my ex's best friend?We have nothing to talk about, and I’d rather die than be in a room alone with an arsehole like you.”

“You’re not his ex.” He pointed out.

You raised your eyebrows at his words, inquiring him to explain himself.

“You’re not- You two are still together. I mean, you never officially said it was over. You’re still his girlfriend, he’s still your boyfriend. James is still holding on to that.” Sirius searched your face for reactions to that confession but found nothing.

“Fine, I guess I’ll just officially send him an owl then,” you replied dryly, done with his crap. You threw your napkin on the table and got up. You excused yourself, thanked Sirius’ mother for the food and walked out of the room. So much for this being a distraction from James.

“Wait, Y/N!” Sirius yelled out as he chased after you. You kept walking, neither slowing down, nor speeding up, as you walked in the direction of your house, despite knowing that it was an hour drive by car.

A heavy silence hung between you two as he walked next to you, both staring out in front of yourselves.

“It’s my fault.”

Now this made you look up at Sirius. You eyed him up and down sceptically, coming to a stop. “Don’t give yourself so much credit, Black. You’re definitely not my favourite person on this planet, but despite you talents at DADA, last I checked, you can’t cast the Imperio curse yet.” Sirius refrained from grinning at your retort.

“So unless you’re telling me that you’ve been using the polyjuice potion and posing as James Potter who has been a massive twat of a boyfriend for over a month, I highly doubt it’s your fault.” With that, you continued walking again.

“No, and no. You’re right, I guess.”

“I am.”

Sirius gave you a look and tried again. “Look, he was just all over you. And maybe I had to get used to Prongs being a taken guy, all mushy, but we all missed him. So I teased him a little,” he explained but hesitated at the end.

“You teased him a little,” you flatly repeated. “You teased him and it turned him into an asshole?”

“It was just a bunch of guys laughing about our whipped friend,” he paused. “Okay and some complaining,” he admitted. “I didn’t know he would straight up go to avoiding you because he was embarrassed to show affection in front of us though.”

You massaged your temples. “Okay first of all, you suck and you’re a shitty friend.” Sirius pulled a face. “Eh, deserved,” he scratched the back of his head.

“But my point still stands. James chose to lie to me by making up excuses to not have to be around me.” You huffed in frustration. “I’m not... I’ve never been in a relationship before, but I’m pretty sure that’s like, rule number one of things not to do.” You kicked against a pebble on the road.

“And then he goes and says horrible stuff about me behind my back. That’s probably rule number two,” you added, a frown on your face at the recollection of events.

“But if that wasn’t enough, he didn’t listen to me when I told him how I felt about it and instead yelled at me, trying to shift the blame on me, as if it’s my fault that I overheard you guys. Oh and also, he insulted me again! Though, in my face this time, I’ve got to give him that.” You mumbled the last part bitterly and looked back up at Sirius who awkwardly looked at his feet while listening to you rant.

“So no, Sirius. You were a shitty friend, but by no means the cause of our break up. That’s on James.”

“Please, you don’t understand,” Sirius pleaded again. “James is miserable alright? As in he’s kind of being pathetic right now, he refuses to believe you guys broke up. He keeps insisting that you’re still together, that he still has a chance to make up to you.”

It was your turn to look at your feet. Sirius continued. It was his turn to talk now and he felt he needed to help his friend. “He loves you so much. He really misses you.”

You wryly smiled at Sirius. “He tell you to say that?”

“No. Well, not explicitly.” Sirius patted his back pockets and fished a crumpled envelope out of it. He handed it over. When you opened it, you found a folded piece of paper that simply said ‘I am so sorry. I miss you and I love you so much.’ In James’ handwriting. You sighed.

“Look, I’m just trying to help my git of a friend who is madly, hopelessly in love with you. And I’m trying to make things right between you two because I am partially at fault. And I know you love him. He’s just being an big idiot.”

“Try ginormous.”

Sirius now openly grinned. Okay maybe you weren’t so bad after all.

“Will you please talk to him? I’m sure he will apologize because he regrets everything. I know he does. And if you decide you don’t want to be in a relationship anymore, you tell him. Just not by sending an owl right now before talking one more time, please.”

A car sounded its horns behind you and you turned around to see your mother and father. The car stopped next to you and the door opened. You turned to look at Sirius again. “Will you see James before I do?” You asked. Sirius nodded.

You handed him the envelope back. He hesitated to accept it. “Give him this. Don’t worry, I’m not breaking up with my boyfriend. I’ll talk to him at Hogwarts.” You reassured him.

Relieved at your words, Sirius took the envelope and you gave him a thumbs up. “You’re not so bad, Black,” you said as you got in the car.

“Back at you!” He called after you. He watched your car drive off.

He checked inside the envelope and found the folded piece of paper. When he unfolded it, he found a uno reverse card stuck in between.

James was nervous. He impatiently paced around on platform 9¾, having arrived there way too early. Sirius had moved in with him over the holidays, running away from home and had brought a certain envelope with him. James heart had leaped when he found your card, putting it carefully under his pillow at night, carrying it in his pocket during the day.

“Merlin, Prongs would you just stand still,” Sirius commented from where he sat, leaning against a wall, cigarette twirling between his fingers.

“I can’t, Padfoot. This is literally the moment that will define the rest of my life!” James exclaimed dramatically, but walked over to Sirius and plopped down next to him anyways, mimicking Sirius’ action by twirling the game card around.

“Mate, you’ll be fine. She literally let you know she loved you too.” He nodded at the object James’ hands.

“But what if she loves me, but realised that she wants to be with someone who hasn’t acted like a stupid idiot?” James’ heart was racing at the thought. He’d spent the entire first week wallowing misery.

Other students started to arrive at the platform and James got back up to start pacing around again.

You softly pushed him away and immediately, the stream of self-deprecating words, apologies and other rambles flowed out of James’ mouth. You pecked his lips again to shush him.

You spotted each other at the same time. You offered him a hesitant smile but it was enough for James to take off in a sprint towards you.

He stopped in in front of you, unsure and apologies ready on the tip of his tongue. Someone called your name behind you and you looked back to see Wylan.

Turning to face James again, you offered him a fond expression and tiptoed to press a peck to his lips. James immediately responded to the kiss and he sighed in relief, shoulders less tense.

“We’ll talk later, okay?”

No, not okay, he wanted to say but you cut him to it.

“I’ve got a friend waiting for me,” you beamed up at him in pride and he melted at the sight. “Okay,” he relented, making a mental note to tell Remus and Peter to apologize to you too.

“You’ll let me know when you have time?” He asked.

“I’ll make time for you,” you assured him. “We’ll talk after supper, if you don’t have any plans of course,” you teased.

James shook his head laughing. “I won’t,” He replied earnestly.

“You don’t know that! Like what if a famous Quidditch player wants to meet you after supper, huh? Then what?” You challenged him. He shrugged.

“I’ll reschedule.” He grinned.

You shake your head and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. He watched you head in the direction of your Ravenclaw friend who had his back turned to you and walked back to Sirius.

“Wylan!” You skipped over and slung an arm around him, ruffling his already messy hair. He looked up as if he’d been caught doing something wrong and relaxed with a smile when he saw it was just you. You laughed at his skittish behaviour. “So how was your holiday?”

“I actually got a book on alchemy for Christmas. I brought it with me, thought maybe you’d help me?” He asked nervously, a bit embarrassed at his request.

“Oh none of that,” you waved your hand at his antics. “I’ve been helping you with dyslexia for a while now, of course I’ll help!” He offered you a grateful smile.

“You have it with you now?”

Wylan nodded and pulled out a ridiculously heavy book. You whistled. “Better get started on that right away, huh. We should find a seat.”

You two moved to get on the Hogwarts Express, but before you disappeared inside, you looked back at James to see he did the same thing. You exchanged smiles, he dramatically made a deep bow and mouthed ‘milady’. Then he turned around and pumped his fist in the air, grinning from ear to ear.

Sirius patted James on the back when he returned. “See, nothing to worry about. Right back to snogging your girl,” he laughed out loud, but no malicious intent this time.

“Still a long way to go, though,” James admitted, but he wore a fond smile on his face at the thought of you, all giddy inside. “But we’ll be alright, I think. I’ll be the best bloody boyfriend out there you know. You better get used to the snogging. And be nice to her, she really means a lot to me.”

Sirius pushed him. “I’ll have you know that we’re on extremely good terms now,” he exaggerated.

James snorted. “No, you’re not,” he immediately said.

Sirius grinned, having fun riling him up. “Why don’t you go ask her yourself, if you don’t believe me.”

James and Sirius walked towards their own compartment where they waited for Peter and Remus, arguing about it.

About two months later, Gryffindor had won the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. You ran down the stands and up to James, jumping in his arms. He fiercely kissed you, his friends and teammates hollering at him.

“Good luck charm,” he cheekily mumbled against your lips while flipping the others off, earning laughter. When the celebratory party was finally over, and the marauders and you retreated to their dorm, James instantly pulled you onto his lap, locking you in with his arms wrapped around you so tightly that you wriggled to get some air. Jokingly, you tapped out three times in mock surrender.

“And the winner is...”, Sirius drumrolled. “James Potter!” Remus and Peter jokingly clapped and cheered.

“Means you can let her breathe now, Prongs.” You mouthed a thank you at Sirius.

James pouted, offended. “Since when are you two such good buddies,” He complained.

Sirius stuck his tongue out. “Wouldn’t you like to know, lover boy. I told you, Y/N and I are on extremely good terms now.” He winked at you.

“Thought you’d be more happy that your girlfriend and brother could get along. I mean, figured it won’t be long until she becomes my sister-in-law.”

@moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @fanboyluvr @spiderman-stilinski @magical-spit @livelaughlivedilfs @nyenye @fluffybunnyu @prongs-moon @xcinnamonmalfoyx @akila-twt @treestarrrrrrrr @mrsmaybank13 @ireallywannasleep127 @imarimon @targaryenmoony @jessicamellarky @scriptsofthorns @lynbubble @variant-lokitty @elsie-bells @chichi3095 @my-beloved-fandoms @quackitysdrugdealer @pleasingregulus @mindflay3r @littlenerdybee

#james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #marauders era #james potter #james potter angst #james potter fic #james potter imagine #marauders fanfic #marauders

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bruciemilf · 11 months

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A crack treated seriously concept that I have just swimming in my mind;

Runaway sugar baby Bruce Wayne AU.

Here's the thing; Bruce and Harvey are married. Bruce may not realize they are! but they are.

Oblivious fucker really went,

" yes, I will have children with my best friend, raise them together happily, occasionally have sex, and wear this cool ring he gave me. Platonically, of course."

I think it all started when Tim came home from school, wearing a bit of a guilty expression, asking with a pinch embarrassment if Bruce could pretend to be a doctor for career day.

Bruce blinks, " I am a doctor, darling." Graduated with flying colors, mind you!

"Well, yeah, but...You know, not anymore. "

True. Ever since he adopted Jason and Tim, he just found it harder and harder to leave home. They were just too precious and he didn't want to miss a moment!

"I just don't understand why he'd lie about it."

"I can," Harvey looks so handsome, arranging his tie. He does a mess of it, but he doesn't look less tantalising,

" Little brats would be...Yknow, mean. They get finicky when they see a weak spot."

He knows it's Harvey because there's no accent melting like whisky on his mouth. " Weak spot?"

" doll, cmon, --"

" I do work, Harvey. Just because it's not defending criminals doesn't mean it's less vital."

" I knowthat. But you're also a rich guy who, let's face it, wouldn't need to work a day In his life. And that's fine by me. "

because Harvey HATED seeing his mom break her back to support their family when his father was drowning face down in debts.

He wouldn't put anyone through that, let alone his pretty little husband. But Bruce doesn't take this well.

" well! I'll show you! I'm more than capable of making it on my own, I'll prove it!"

Now. Bruce doesn't think too much. He's not an expert in it. Man can stitch up a 5 inch incision with floss, but his own well being? Leave it to Alfred.

But he'll make them proud. So next time, they don't have to lie.

He just packs up way too many luggages, packs Damian up too, and leaves while Harvey's at oh his back breaking, gruelling office job.

It's only when he's on a bus that he realizes he forgot the rest, but that'd be cruel! Their boys loved their father.

Dick, who's in his I Hate Dad phase, is extremely hysterical while they leave to find Bruce. Only stopping occasionally to fix his eyeliner, then start over again.

Jason, Harvey's second oldest, drives beside them on his motorbike.

He guesses its an extra middle finger to him to not wear a helmet. His beloved little hellion, raised on the devil's edge.

"Listen to me; If I find him, I'm moving back home. If I don't, I'll put you in the ground."

" I'll let you."

Now; Bruce does find a place. It's a little town with big characters.

Harley has a diner that she's more than happy to welcome him in, even if Bruce, Spoiled Spouse of the Year, can't quite pick up.

Anything for old roomies.

But there is someone in there who catches Bruce's attention. Towns mechanic.

Clark, his name tag says, who played with Damian behind Bruce's back while he talked to Harley.

He smells of salty motor oil; Fresh sweat, smoked apple pie. His eyes are dreamy blue, rendered with sharp cleverness. And Clark likes him.

Clark recommends him a good motel, brings Damian some toys to play with, even brings his own babies so they can have a playdate. " They're not mine. The toys! These two are. I have a receipt from the hospital."

"...A birth certificate?"

He's delightfully awkward.

When Harvey comes to pick him up, when Bruce jumps in his arms, claws at a pristine shirt stained with his brand new blisters and cracks and worked hands, he's not awkward.

He's disappointed; Like Bruce strangled the joy from his soul.

"You're...Married?"

When Bruce and Harvey respond, in perfect, consice sync, " Oh no, darling,--" " Yes he is, four eyes--" they're ALL confused.

"Oh, dear..."

#bruce wayne #dc #dc comics #dick grayson #tim drake #harvey dent #clark kent #bruharvey #superbat #runaway sugar baby au #no capes au #text #text post #batfamily #batfam #jason todd

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the-kr8tor · 3 months

Note

Happy fluffy Friday!! Can I request the Hobie and the reader having to take Billie and Ramona to run errands?

Thank you!

S'cute!! Thank you for requesting, hope you like it 🫶

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Dad! Hobie, Mom! Reader, Billie and Ramona AU, Twin AU, cw food mentions, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

“Crisps me up, Mac” Hobie's hand is reaching behind him, fingers flexing for the twin's snack, his eyes fixated on the road ahead.

The sedan rattles as it hits a speed bump. It's been the Brown family car since the girls were born. Hobie traded his old band van for it so the girls would have somewhere to comfortably sit from the hospital. You still remember the day you brought them home, Hobie practiced with a doll weeks before so he knows how to work a car seat even before they arrived. He's now an expert in handling the contraption.

The seats still smell like baby powder, under the powdery fragrance lies the cheesy aroma of their snack that has made you crack open the window a smidge.

Billie slaps her dad's hand away, the bag crinkles in her tiny hands. “Not crisps, dad! They're cheesy pretzels!”

You watch the interaction in the rearview mirror with a smile. Mona giggles next to her sister, their car seats full of stickers they got from family and their dad. Both girls are still in their gymnastics leotards, oversized shirts and jackets over the sparkly spandex. They look absolutely adorable, you just want to reach behind to squeeze their cheeks but you fight the indulgence.

“Alright, pretzel me up you gremlin. It's payment for driving you” He doesn't relent, a teasing smile on his lips.

“We're almost there, dad” despite her disapproval, Billie still gives him a handful of cheesy pretzels.

Hobie gobbles it up in one bite, reaching behind again to wipe his hand clean on Billie's shirt. She squeals, laughing and kicking at his hand. Her tiny shoe falls off, thudding softly on the car floor.

“Daddy’s driving, Bee!” Mona grabs her sister by the arm. “Mum, stop them”

“Okay, that's enough, you two can goof off in the store.”

Hobie sticks his tongue out at the rearview mirror, Billie does the same, her scrunched face making you laugh.

Hobie's cheesy coated hand slyly snakes to yours, locking your hand in place.

You give him the stink eye. He laughs, bringing your hand closer to him, pressing a quick kiss on your knuckles.

“What? You've got wet wipes with you right?” He says in-between chuckles.

You only stare at him with your eyes narrowed, pretending to be annoyed as you feel the stickiness of the cheese on your palm. Good thing you actually have those wipes.

Hobie parks the car, it makes a rumbling sound as he turns off the ignition.

“Blinky sounds like he's hungry” Mona comments, the twins dubbed the car ‘blinky’ since they could talk, but it's only making it hard for you and Hobie to finally get the car replaced.

“Yeah, he's hungry for some petrol.” Hobie unclips his seatbelt before unclipping yours and stealing a kiss right under your nose.

“Hey,” you beam at him, “I'll get you later, you'll see”

“Lookin' forward to it” he gets out of the car with a smile that could rival the sun.

Hobie gets Billie out of her car seat, pausing to put her shoe back on, he makes the signature dad groan when he lifts her up.

“You smell like cheese, mac. Maybe we should switch you to cheese and Mona could have mac instead, huh?” He looks at Billie like she's the most precious cheese coated jewel in the world.

“Okay! If Mon says yes.”

They both look at you and Mona. You're just about releasing her, having a harder time than Hobie with the car seat.

Ramona looks at them with a pout. “Mum can't get me out again”

“You need help, love?” Hobie asks.

“Nope,” you curse whoever made the straps so complicated for your hands. “Anddd got it!”

“In record time too” he teases, taking each girls' backpacks from the floor with ease. Show off.

“Good job, mummy” Mona murmurs, placing a cheese filled kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you, baby”

With each girl in tow, you place them both in a cart. You and Hobie quickly learned that letting them roam isn't such a good idea when either girl suddenly wanders around, because for sure the other would follow.

The wheels squeak, the handle of the grocery cart is cold against your palms. Hobie, who has the foresight, takes the cart from you, looping his arm around yours so he's still technically holding your hand without taking his hands off the precious cart that holds his babies. And at the same time shielding you from the wretched cold.

“Daddy, cereal!” In some twin telepathy, both girls yell the exact same thing.

“We'll get to that aisle, thing one and two. We still need to get other stuff first, yeah?” He bends at the waist to wipe a powder of cheese on Mona's cheek.

She scrunches her nose. “Thank you, dad”

“So polite,” he looks at her like she hung the stars, all cheese and stardust. “Where'd you get that from huh?”

“Mummy” Mona doesn't miss a beat. You snicker from the side.

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, the girls giggle at their dad making a funny face.

You seize the opportunity in the empty soup aisle. Kissing the corner of his lips, you smile into the quick peck.

“Had to do it or your face will get stuck like that.”

“Got me good, gorgeous” he grins, his eyes crinkling happily at the corners. “Would you still love me if my face stays forever like this?” Hobie makes the face again, the girls guffaw like it's the best comedy special ever.

You whisper, “that's what the mask is for, Spiderman”

“So rude, I can't believe you've done this, in front of our children too.” He feigns hurt, clutching at his chest. “I hope Mona didn't get that from you”

You fake a gasp.

The girls fully know their father's antics and how you two weirdly flirt with each other. Billie impatiently taps Hobie's hand while Mona yawns from her seat.

“Let's go, Mon’s sleepy” Billie's tapping gets faster with every heart filled stare you throw at each other. “Stop with the kissy faces! We're tired!”

“Alright, alright! How impatient, you know you got that from your dad” you wink at Billie.

—

“One only, choose wisely” Hobie holds up two different boxes of sugar filled cereal in front of the girls.

You watch as their eyes flick from one pink box to a brown box with a bunny mascot on it. It's like they're watching a tennis match.

They converse amongst themselves, the council of cereal you and Hobie once called.

“This is going to take a while, d’you want to get the detergent while the council's deliberating? I'll stay here with them and be the referee.”

“Sure, tell me their reasoning this time” you squeeze his bicep, smooching his jaw.

“‘course. No stopovers at the candle aisle!” he half yells while you're walking away.

You give him a thumbs up, winking at him.

“Your mum's definitely going to sniff some candles.”

“We got it, dad! We want the chocolate–” Billie starts.

“Strawberry one–what?” Mona continues.

Hobie has a thought to just buy both boxes, but he doesn't want them to get spoiled too much. So he lets them argue, huffing out air when they get particularly catty with each other. He's definitely gonna have to be a referee.

—

You carry Billie right at the end of the register, her eyes are bright and curious while watching the cashier scan the items incredibly fast. She holds onto your hand as you face her towards what appears to her as the greatest show ever. She's getting heavier and heavier but you'll be damned if you stop carrying your daughters. Even if it means breaking your back.

Snuggling close to her neck, she giggles, her bubble jacket crinkles as you rub your chin atop her shoulder.

“Mum!”

“Okay, okay I'll stop, for a kiss?” you face your cheek to her side. She places a sticky kiss, leaning away with a smack of lips. “Thank you”

“You're welcome” she gets back to observing the laser, her eyes transfixed, ears perking at every beep.

You watch as Mona sneaks a chocolate bar to the lineup, she barely reaches the top of the counter, trying her best not to get noticed by her dad, her eyes flicking from him to you. He notices alright, but Hobie lets it slide, he even sneaks his own candy bar for Billie. You pretend you do not see. They deserve the treat, you both think, just for making huge progress with their cartwheels during class.

While Hobie places the groceries in the trunk, you place both girls in their car seats securely.

“What do you guys want for dinner?” You ask as you lock Billie's seatbelt in place.

“I want spaghetti” Mona yawns in the middle of her sentence.

Billie nods, fighting to keep her eyes closed. “With extra meatballs please”

“Okay, will you help mum and dad like last time?” They slowly nod, rubbing at their sleepy eyes.

They jump slightly when Hobie closes the trunk, “sorry” you hear his muffled apology.

Driving home was much quieter, both girls are sleeping soundly in their car seats, head lolling to the side. Mona embraces her blanket even asleep while Billie’s foot twitches.

“They even sleep like you,” you softly say.

“Hmm? What do you mean? You sleep like that too. Your foot twitches like that”

“And you cuddle me like that”

“Told you, we'd make a perfect blend”

“Yeah, they're perfect” you lean to the side to kiss his cheek, careful not to mess up his driving.

He hums, wishing to kiss you back. Maybe he can pull over real quick to kiss you properly this time.

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byuntrash101 · 10 months

Note

okay here are my thoughts: softdom!hongjoong finds out about you thinking his tattoos are hot so he decides to get more of them and every time he fucks while maintaining eye contact, you break your gaze to stare at his tattoos, finding the movement of ink on his skin fascinating

tags: gentle dom!joong, joong with tats (necessary warning), unprotected sex (don't try this at home), praising, pet names (baby, pretty, sweetheart), light teasing and begging, sweet love making </3, creampie

hongjoong knew you liked his tattoos but when he revealed the brand new and healed ink he got right under his chin he didn't expect he would take less then 10 minutes to get you all hot bothered, ready for him. patiently waiting for him on his bed.

he was hovering above you. his hands placed at each side of your face when on gently brushed over your heated cheek.

he rubs his tip against your folds, coating his lengh with your slick as your whimper from the friction and squirm, yearning for more. you haven't seen him in a hit minute since he's always working and you can't stand the teasing right now. You want him and you want him now.

"joongie~" you whine, shy eyes looking at him as heat rushes to your cheeks.

"yes pretty?' he asks, tone as innocent as could be but the sly smirk pulling at his lips gives him away. you squirm under him as he chuckles bringing his blazing hot tip to your clit, applying some pressure to the attention deprived bundle of nerves; which makes you stay still immediatly, afraid of losing friction.

"say what you want my sweetheart" hongjoong purs in your ear, eyes urging you to voice your demands.

"please joong I want y-aaah"' you say in one breath not even able to finish your sentence before your taunting boyfriend pushes himself inside you. the way you walls stretch around him has you pushing your head into the soft pillow, the pleasure ripping a dragged out moan out of your mouth.

your boyfriend knows you so well and you have been missing him so much that in a matter of minutes you find yourself flirting with the edge already.

and so of course he notices when your eyes slip from his own to focus in the brand new tattoo under his chin. you just can't help it. the way the art piece dances on his skin everytime his adam appel bobbles in his throat, the way it moves when he grunts and moans. it mesmerizes you. you have no choice but to look

as you moan and pant become louder hongjoong doesn't dare to peel his eyes off you for a second. he wants to see you coming undone around his cock, he wants to see you slipping into madness right under him, pledging yourself to him and him only forever until the end of time.

"like my new tattoo baby?" he teases again, knowing damn well the answer.

but your mind is too far gone to play coy again.

"yesss" you say throught gritted teeth, pleasure rising again as he acknowledged you.

"such a good girl for me" he says bringing one of his hands to draw tight circles on your swollen and eager clit. immediately you arche your back, pushing your hips further into him.

"please joong i'm almost there" you cry.

"want me to get more?" he says disregarding your last sentence.

At this point you can only nod frantically as you clench around him tighter then ever, fisting the sheets at each side of your face.

"how about next time i'll get your name tattooed? huh? you'd like that?"

"yessss" you whine, closer than ever, completely losing your sanity at the idea of having your name forever imprinted on your boyfriend's perfect skin. "pleasee joongie"

"cum. cum for me baby" he grants you.

you didn't need more to come undone around him and at the end of his expert fingers. he brought you to delirous summits as you shuddered under him and your walls flutered around him eventually taking him with you as your strong grip tipped him over the edge, delivering copious amount of burning hot cum inside you, your name hanging from swollen lips.

he rolled next to you careful to keep himself locked deep inside of you, his inked arms snaking around your waist and pulling you into his warm embrace.

"i'll make an appointment with the tattoo artist tomorrow"

#hongjoong smut #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez #ateez hongjoong #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong hard hours #hongjoong hard thoughts

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harukaprism · 9 months

Text

Fuck me, old man

Pairing: Welt Yang x F!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only, smut, mentions of injuries on reader, nicknames used (little one, my star), spanking, unprotected sex (wear a condom kids), swearing, pussy slapping, fingering, welt calls you his slut, oral (receiving), this is all just filthy filthy filthy. Do I need to tag gloves being used?

Word Count: 3,224

Dawn's notes: Shhhhhh, just have sex with the old man. It's good for the soul.

You were not looking forward to the lecture you were going to get the second you stepped back onto The Express. Your mission had gone well of course, you were a Nameless and an expert traveler for The Express as the others were, but Welt Yang was harsher on you than the others.

You were hoping it was for a sexual reason and not that he was an old man and “youths these days”. Loading your wounded body onto the train you easily avoided Himeko and the others, Welt nowhere to be seen, yet. Opening the door to your room and throwing your body onto your bed you stared at the ceiling; a few decorations that you had put up there that March had given you and little doodles that Welt had done in his past time.

You had admired his work as an animator on his planet, his skills showed in every drawing he made, silly little things he made for all of the Nameless on the train, but it seemed he put more effort into the drawings he gave you. You had asked him about his planet and begged him to draw and show you what it was like. Both of you wanted him to go back to his home, to see his family and friends again, hoping that at some point it will be on the list of planets that needed help from The Express.

Glancing to the side you looked at the bedside table, all of your things already placed there along with a drawing that you treasured the most; Welt called them sunflowers. He drew a field of them with a setting sun in the back. It seemed like he had been there before and wanted to visit it again, the solemness on his face causing you to regret asking about his home planet.

A knock on your door sent a race through your heart, you had no idea who it could be. “Yes?” You were hoping it was Pom Pom bringing you something to eat and drink.

“Are you alright?” Damn it, Welt was at your door and you hadn’t had a chance to shower, eat, or even hide your wounds.

“O-Oh Welt! Yeah I-I’m fine.” You forced a chuckle out of your throat sitting up hoping he would not come in.

“Pom-Pom said you didn’t look great and didn’t stop to report anything or say anything to anyone. That isn’t like you.” He saw right through you, he always did. “Can I come in?” There was no way to stop him and you knew that, he was such a good person and if he thought something was wrong with you he would want to care and see you.

“Yeah, doors unlocked.” Your heart raced as you watched your door open, he looked like he had just woken up from a nap and it was dangerously beautiful. His hair was a bit messy, the gray streak sticking straight up almost. “Did you just wake up?” You tried to tease him to take his attention off your bruised body.

“What happened?” His ungloved fingertips brushed against your bruised cheek.

“Welt I am fine I promise.” You tried to convince him that you really were okay, your body was sore and you just needed to rest. “You can go back to the parlor car, I'll be fine.”

The look under his glasses made your heart sink; you never wanted to worry him. “Little one, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” You hated the way the words made your stomach clench; he said it because you were younger than him, smaller than him. He was a protector and you were something he protected. “Go wash up, I’ll get the medical kit.”

Heaving a sigh you looked down at your legs avoiding his piercing golden eyes. “Fine.” Voice soft you sat and listened as he left your room giving you your privacy. You gave it a few minutes before you dragged your body through the cars to the bath, taking your time to wash yourself and soak in the warm water. Once you were out you felt much better and your body looked better as well as you stared at your body in your silk pajamas.

As you made your way back to your room you saw that your door was already open, you knew it was Welt and he was waiting. Knowing it was inevitable you walked into the room and looked as he sat on your bed staring at the pictures you had that he gifted you. “I never threw any out.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest as he met your gaze again. “I can see that. I am glad you enjoy them.” He looked over your body looking for any outward wound. “The bath helped, I see, but you are still wounded. Sit down and let me tend to them.”

Heat rushed your body as you unwillingly went to the bed sitting next to him. His slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, the ointment he wiped the wounds with stung, sucking in a sharp breath you fought back the urge to curse but the feeling soon faded as his soft lips met the tender skin. “Sorry, I should have warned you that it was going to sting.”

Your heart rushed as you watched his lips move away from your skin, it was an unexpected reaction from him, he had never done it in the past when he tended to your wounds. “I-It’s fine.” Your voice was soft and it came out in a stutter but you didn’t want to show that it had affected you too much, in fear that he wouldn’t touch you like this again.

“Was the mission too hard for you to do alone?” There was worry etched into his face and you could see the pain in his eyes. “I should have convinced Himeko to let me go with you, I should have known.” Reaching up to his face you cupped his warm cheeks in your hands pulling him close. “Welt, I could handle it by myself and you know that. I just got a little banged up but I came back alive and relatively safe.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, then suddenly his lips were against yours. Warmth filled your body as his hand rested on the back of your neck, the leather of his gloved hand digging into the tender skin to pull you deeper into the kiss. Your body was melting into his touch, everything about Welt Yang encompassed you.

His earthy scent rushed through your nostrils, your body falling back into the soft sheets, his arm caging you in. “Welt.” You murmured against his lips.

He pulled away and stared at you over his glasses, you could see the emotions swimming behind those brown orbs. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” He started to move off of you but you didn’t want him to leave your side. Your hands rushed to his wavy hair and your fingers tangled in the strands as you pulled him back down crashing your lips to his.

As he let out a surprised gasp your tongue made its way into his mouth letting it explore as you kept him close to your body. Pulling away you let go of his hair giving him the option to pull away. “Never apologize for kissing me Welt, I have been waiting for you to do it for years.”

His deep chuckle made your walls clench around nothing. “For years, are you serious?” Giving him the best deadpan look you watched him as he squirmed a little. “You are being serious.” He said the words as if he couldn’t believe it, had he ever looked in a mirror?

Lifting your legs you wrapped them around his waist and used all your momentum to flip the two of you so you straddled him, pinning his hands above his head. “Trust me, I have wanted much more than just a kiss from you.” Letting out a little half truth you let out a little gasp as he adjusted his hips pressing his hardening cock to your core.

“Trust me little one, I have thought about a lot of other things to do with you.” With his admission you let a smirk tug at your lips. The fact that he wanted you as much as you wanted him sent a fire through you. Remotely locking the door to your room your hands made quick work to strip the thin shirt and shorts you had on. “You are still injured, are you sure about this?”

You glared down at him, it was sweet he was trying to make sure that your body was safe from what could happen to you while having sex but you didn’t care. “If you do not fuck me right now, you will never get the chance to do it again.”

Something flashed in his eyes at the threat, it was like he was a predator hunting you as his prey; it had served as a long enough distraction. His gloved hand came down on your ass roughly, sending shivers up your body. Without having much time to react another smack came to your already reddining cheek. “Don’t make such threats to me, little one.”

“No surprise that the old man is into spanking.” You teased drawing your bottom lip into your mouth, you knew it would cause more punishment but when it came from him it only served to arouse you even more. He had to feel the wet patch growing in your panties right above the cock you had wanted for so long.

The smirk that pulled his lips up made you know you were in for a whole new world of pleasure. “You have no idea what I am into my star.” With that your back hit your bed and your bra was easily discarded to the side; when the hell did he take your bra off?!

His hands made work of his shirt and while his eyes were distracted you slipped your panties to the side and used shaking fingers to spread your lips giving him a full view of your dripping greedy hole. “Come and fuck me, old man.”

That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back. His pants and boxers thrown haphazardly to join your clothing, his gloved middle finger brushed against your clit as he ripped your panties off. Ripped. The raw strength he showed made you shiver. “The glove stays on? How kinky of you.” You teased him as if it didn’t turn you on.

He hummed in agreement as his thumb replaced his middle finger, rubbing quick and tight circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves, it was not enough you had to feel more of him.

As if Welt could read your mind he slowly inserted a finger into your pussy, just the one made your eyes roll back as you moaned to the stars outside of your window, your eyes quickly shut in pleasure as you felt the stretch as another finger fell into place next to his other one. How could he make you feel this way with just two fingers?

His thumb moved away from your clit causing a whine to escape your lips but it was soon replaced with another moan as his tongue replaced it working in tandem with his fingers thrusting inside you without a care in the world.

Suddenly your eyes were filled with stars as your orgasam crashed over you faster than any other orgasam had hit you. The way he pulled it out of you made you dizzy. How could he have done that? How could he have made it happen so fast? What the fuck was he?

Trying to gain control of your body as you stared at him as he climbed over you, the look in his eyes told you that you weren’t going on an expedition anytime soon. “Don’t regret the decisions you've made to get to this spot.” His words came out as a growl, commanding your legs to spread for him; the brat inside you dying quickly at the sight of his long cock came into view. The first word that came to mind was long, oh Aeons it was long. But it was thick as well, not too girthy that you were scared it would not fit but it was going to stretch you out and you knew you would feel it for days.

With a baited breath you watched as he took the base of his cock and lined the tip with your begging hole. His eyes met yours as if silently asking for one last time for permission. Giving him a nod you gripped onto his forearm bracing yourself.

His hips slowly inched towards yours as he started to sink himself inside you. The stretch was nice and slow, giving you plenty of time to adjust to him. The feeling of him inside you was pleasurable enough but the fact that he was only halfway in and you felt like he was in your throat already made your head spin. “A-aeons Welt, how do you walk around with that thing?”

Trying to make light of the pressure growing in your core you wanted a distraction so you wouldn’t come all over his wonderful dick before he even started to move!

He laughed, Welt actually laughed as his hand came and cupped your face. “If you need a minute to adjust just say so. We take this at your pace.” God he was so sweet, but that was not the issue here.

“You’re only halfway inside and it feels like you're in my throat.” You protested as your back arched off your bed, your body screaming for more while your mind begged to have him pull out just a little.

The look in his eyes showed that you just signed your soul away to him. Instantly he pulled out fully from you and just as you took a breath he thrusted back inside you burying himself completely inside your waiting pussy. You tried to scream but you couldn’t get any noise out as you stared into those eyes that soaked in your pleasure. “What’s wrong, my star? Too much?”

Taking in a deep breath you didn’t know you were hiding you went to snap back at him but he set a brutal pace of hard and slow thrusts as he held your hips down. It was too much but not enough at the same time. “F-Fuck Welt!”

“That’s right, scream my name.” A smirk pulled at his lips making your walls shudder around his length, the dominating force that he exuded made your brain turn to mush. He is so kind and gentle but this was not the Welt you knew, and you loved it. Reaching down you tried to rub at your clit but your hand was smacked away. “No touching, only I can touch this pretty pussy.”

With those simple words you lost all inhibitions to rebel or snap at him, all you could focus on was him and the cock that brought you so much pleasure. Wanton moans filled the room along with the lewd sounds of your passionate love making, despite him being rough with you you could feel the passion and caring he put into every roll of his hips.

Tears pricked your eyes as the tip of his cock brushed against the most sensitive spot inside you, all you needed was him to touch your clit and you would come undone around him. You wanted the release for your own pleasure but you also wanted it for him, for him to learn how to play your body and make you his in full.

“Squeezing me so tight.” His chuckle made your walls clench even tighter around him but he pulled out of you fully leaving you so empty.

“B-but I was so close!” Your whine was so hoarse as you reached down for him, he said you couldn't touch yourself he never said you couldn’t touch him. The tips of your fingers brushed against the flushed head of his wet cock, your essence made it so shiny and slippery, you had to get it back inside you right now.

“What are you doing, my star?” He only watched as you managed to wrap your hand around his length and guided it back to your entrance. You knew he wouldn’t give it to you willingly, you had to coax him into giving you what you wanted.

Heat rushed through your body as you nudged the tip against your clit, the little bundle of nerves tingling just feeling some type of friction. “I want to cum on your cock. Please let me.”

It was like something snapped at just the notion that you wanted him to give you your release, your hands were moved away from his body as your world twisted. Looking at the full length mirror as welt kneeled behind you, his strong hands gripped your hips tugging them into the air presenting your ass to him.

Your whole body shook as one of his hands came down smacking your sensitive pussy, you expected pain but the moan that rushed through your throat gave into the pleasure at the feeling. All you could do was watch through the mirror with hooded eyes as he readjusted behind you, the intense feeling of his cock ramming into you fully made your eyes roll back.

Gripping onto the bedding tightly you moaned as he used your body for his pleasure, his glasses at the tip of his nose while his eyes never left the area where the two of you were connected. “My slutty girl, so wet at the thought of being able to orgasam.”

He wasn’t wrong, you wanted it so bad, you wanted Welt to take you there. “Please please please!” You weakly begged as you tried to match his pace, moving your hips back to meet his hips, pulling him in deeper.

“Say my name and I’ll let you cum.” The growl alone was enough to have the coil in your core tighten unbearably painful.

“Welt, please let me cum!” You moaned, each syllable being jumbled matching the rough thrusts he gave you, the angle made all the blood rush to your head as his hand gripped your hip and the gloved one reached down past his cock rubbing circles against your clit.

White blinded you as the coil snapped and your orgasam brought you to your mental knees, with your ears ringing you vaguely heard Welt grunt and groan behind you as his thrusts got sloppy and warmth filled you as he let himself reach his orgasam.

As soon as he pulled out of your abused pussy your body crumpled, bare, sweaty and with his cum starting to leak out his fingers reached down scooping up what was trying to escape and thrusted his fingers back into you keeping everything inside.

“We aren’t finished yet my star.” His seductive voice was gruff in your ear; you couldn’t help but let out a moan with the feeling of his messy gloved fingers deep inside you. “How long will it take for your body to give up on me?”

#dawn writes 18+#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail fanfiction #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #welt yang #welt x you #welt smut #welt x reader #welt yang smut #welt yang x reader #welt yang hsr #welt yang x you

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split-spectrum · 9 months

Text

Water and Rock

Chapter 8

Pairings: Obi Wan/FemReader

Warnings/Tags: explicit content, slow burn, smut, dubcon, angst

Description: There are only so many excuses a master and padawan can make to kiss under "extenuating circumstances" before circumstances stop arising and start being created. You are an expert at your craft - a Jedi knight in service as a spy for the Republic. When your former master Obi Wan joins you on a mission, it's clear things aren't the same as they once were. The trials you face together may break your bond, or turn it into something else entirely.

☆☆☆

When the holomessage flickers off, the spell over you is broken. You finish taking off your coat and immediately start keying in codes on the holoreceiver. After minutes of waiting, the image of Mace Windu appears before you.

"Master Windu," you greet. "I'm glad to see you are well."

He nods respectfully. "And you, Commander. I trust you've received the Council's message?"

"I have. I thought perhaps we could discuss it further."

"Of course. What further discussion is needed?"

"To be honest, Master, I feel there are many other Jedi who would be able to complete this mission with more success than me."

You shift your gaze uneasily, but bring it back to meet his eyes quickly. "Is my presence on this mission... absolutely necessary?"

His tone remains even, although there's a little more authority in his voice. "We don't have 'many other Jedi' available at the moment. We are spread more thinly every day the war goes on. If we did not require your presence, we would not have asked for it."

You nod. "I understand."

You hesitate, not wanting to push the issue further, but not wanting to end the conversation until you've tried all options. "But at the present time, I'm... not entirely sure I'm ready to return to full duty."

He's silent for a moment, eyebrow slightly raised. "Might I remind you, Commander, that you are currently on full duty? Your assignment was changed, but your efforts are of no less value on Ilum."

You silently curse the lack of tact in your wording. Being away from Coruscant for so long as made you forget how easily your words can be twisted. You bow your head in acknowledgement.

"Yes, of course."

He regards you for a moment before speaking again. "If you are refusing the orders, you may say so. You will be relieved of duty."

It isn't a threat. Like everything Master Windu says, it's a clear statement of truth without hidden meaning. He is simply reminding you of the options available. You can report for duty, or you can admit that despite your year of light service to focus inward and reconnect with the force, you still aren't ready to face combat again, and you can leave the Jedi Order.

"That is not my intent," you assure him. "I will accept the orders and report. I simply wanted to ensure that... I had a full understanding of the circumstances."

His face remains neutral. "Then, unless there's anything else, Commander, good luck on your mission. May the force be with you."

You nod respectfully. "And with you, Master."

The hologram flickers out, and you stare at the empty space. Perhaps if you'd had a few more months to find balance... even a few weeks to prepare for this mission...

But no. You shake the thoughts from your head. It would have made no difference. This is the most dedicated you have ever been in your training, and you are the strongest you've ever felt in the force. Yet, for all the time you'd spent in meditation, you're still unbalanced, and you know that no amount of time would have been enough to bring you back to center.

When you'd first arrived for your new assignment, you'd spent a great deal of your time expressly trying not to reach out in the force. It went against everything you'd been taught by all of your masters, but in your experience, there had been many times you'd needed to trust in the force, and a few times you'd needed to trust in yourself. You knew your thoughts were in turmoil and your emotions were not in your control. To connect with the force in such a state, you knew, would be a mistake.

So you focused on your daily tasks, using the dull repetition of cycling screens as a form of meditation, and the arduous perimeter checks around the temple as a method of clearing your mind. Although your days were long and tiresome, you were grateful for the blank feeling it afforded you. It was better than the alternative, which was what you exerperienced each night before sleep. Sometimes, all too often, during sleep.

The screams you'd heard, each guard pleading for their life before a vicious silence permeated the air, sometimes preceeded with the grinding of bones or the thick pop of dislocating joints...

The hallway filled with bodies in poses crawling away from their attacker, some with faces darkened by lack of blood flow, some missing multiple appendages - not just the hands that had held their weapons, but their arms, and their legs...

He would have done it on the way back... He would have disarmed them already. They weren't a threat by the time he'd retrieved your sabers. He would have killed them on his way down the hallway, back to you, as they lay there...

The most disturbing part of all of it, though, was the feeling, deep within you, of pure contentment. It had stroked a part of your mind that you hadn't known existed. It was so pleasing to you, knowing that he was out of control. It soothed you. He was safe.

In every battle you'd fought by his side, you'd tried to let go of your fear of death. In many of your missions, you'd left people alive who easily could have killed you in return. This was part of the path you chose to walk - to fight with the knowledge that taking an enemy's life wasn't the goal. You fought to protect others, not yourselves. If you could manage to leave an enemy alive, but disarmed, it was always attempted.

But sometimes, enemies didn't stay disarmed once defeated. Sometimes it managed to create a bigger threat. These were the choices you lived with, in order to protect the sanctity of all life. But for one shining moment, you had felt the weight of those choices lift from your shoulders.

When you had watched Obi Wan remove the shackles of compassion, mercy, and restraint, you'd felt a relief like nothing you'd ever experienced before. It was intoxicating, to a level that terrified you.

Because of this, you had spent many months on Ilum without allowing yourself to even attempt a connection with the force. The feeling was still too near, the power too overwhelming. But as time passed and you felt more like yourself each day, you eventually began short meditations with all of your mental barriers firmly in place. Over the weeks which turned into months, you managed to restore your connection, grow in it, and surpass your previous experiences.

But even now, with your strength returned to you, as you contemplate the mission ahead, you can feel the imbalance within yourself. Your desire to do good in the universe will always be tinged with the knowledge of what it felt like to let go of your obligations and use your power to protect what you want to protect.

As you board your ship and make the short journey to the rendezvous point with the Republic cruiser, nervous thoughts of your potential shortcomings are slowly replaced with nervous thoughts of another sort.

It's been over a year, and you haven't spoken.

You went to your frozen outpost with every intention to write after a few weeks, as you always did. Even in the midst of countless assignments, you'd always made time to leave an occasional friendly message to one another. You'd kept ties with all your previous masters - some more closely than others. But Obi Wan was your true Master, and you never went more than a couple of months without at least a simple "Hope all is well" message or a quick chat over the holonet to discuss your latest mission reports.

He'd stopped calling after six months, evidently taking the hint that you hadn't been trying to send. You'd played the few short messages he'd left repeatedly just to hear his voice, hanging on his every word. But you couldn't bear to respond; to pretend as if you were okay. You didn't want to lie to him. It was easier to ignore him.

Now, as you dock with the cruiser and make your way onboard, you have no idea what you can say to him. Perhaps, you think optimistically, you won't need to say much. After all, you're here to do a job. You were ordered to report to him as your commanding officer. You didn't receive your orders together, meaning it's likely a solo mission he'll be sending you on.

You turn down a hallway approaching the main bridge and let out a long-held breath, trying to calm yourself. As you sink into the force to steady your nerves, you sense him. You knew you would, but you aren't prepared for the way you feel when his familiar aura makes gentle contact with the edge of your own. Now he knows you're here, too.

His presence grows stronger as you get closer to the ship's center, and you pass a door marked as the general's personal quarters. Your gait slows just a little as you consider knocking. But you hardly miss a step, reminding yourself you have orders to report to the captain. You convince yourself this is the reason you keep walking, and not because you're too afraid to stop.

As you approach the bridge, the scene around you gets markedly busier. The ship's crew is hard at work monitoring status reports and managing the daily operation of the cruiser, and as you step onto the main bridge, you're careful to keep out of the way. A couple of clones you recognize greet you in passing and you give a friendly nod in return. When you reach the captain, he's engaged in a conversation with another clone with whom you're familiar.

"Captain Shrike," you greet, a genuine smile on your face. You've completed a few missions together, and it puts you slightly more at ease to see him.

The clone captain gives you a warm grin, his stance softening slightly to a more open posture as he turns toward you. "Commander! It's been a while. Looking forward to another easy one?"

You laugh, and he introduces you to the captain, the three of you making polite conversation until the topic of the mission is brought up. The captain, whose last name you've now learned is Pais, tells you they plan to discuss it momentarily.

"We were awaiting your arrival so that the General- ah, there he is now." He looks behind you. "General Kenobi wanted to brief everyone at once."

You turn and follow the captain's line of sight to the person who's just entered the room, and there he is.

His beard is neatly trimmed, his hair perfectly finger-combed back from his bright eyes. He's clad in his familiar white armor, likely having returned from battle recently, but looking none worse for the wear. His gaze is as piercing as ever.

"Commander," he acknowledges you with a muted smile. "Welcome aboard. It's good to see you."

"Thank you, General." You say nothing more, unable to return his warm greeting without it sounding forced.

With his usual amount of grace, he continues on to the task at hand, dropping eye contact with you too quickly for anyone to notice your stiff moment of pause. He circles around to the other side of the holoprojector table at the center of the bridge and keys in coordinates to bring up a softly glowing map. The scale model is instantly recognizable to you as a nearby listening post - one which you've personally spent several rotations mapping.

The lights on the bridge automatically darken to allow for better viewing, and the captain joins you at the table along with the clone captain and several of the higher ranking bridge officers. Obi Wan folds his arms behind his back and begins the brief.

"This is a Separatist listening post, located on the lesser moon of Asar-2. We have reason to believe that a Republic vessel traveling in this area had communications intercepted and possibly decoded, revealing our plan of attack on a Separatist blockade in the Gaulus sector. A plan which is set to go into effect in less than fourty standard hours."

He pauses briefly, glancing around the room. "These battle plans are our best chance of breaching the blockade and successfully bringing humanitarian aid to the people of Aaloth. If we were to call off the attack, we may not have another opportunity. However, if the Separatists are already aware of the offensive fleet's coordinates, they will be flying directly into a trap. It is our mission to prevent this by infiltrating the listening station and accessing their transmission logs. We must confirm whether the Separatists were able to decode whatever information they may have gathered, and relay our findings before the planned attack."

He turns to the clone captain beside him. "Captain Shrike, you and I will be approaching from the west, here."

He taps a spot on the map to zoom in. "Their security forces are concentrated at this entrance, and their numbers are limited. To make it to the turbolift on the first floor and reach the comms center, we need only bypass the main guard unit. We will be disguised as Separatist soldiers."

He lifts his eyes to yours, tapping the map again to zoom out and show a path leading to the main entrance. "Commander, that is where you come in. We will need your skills to convince the guards that we have the appropriate security clearances. I presume if you are within this area, it would be close enough to get the job done?"

You follow his motion as he gestures to a wide expanse of land along the path. You open your mouth hesitantly. "It... would."

He nods. "Very well-"

"If I may," you interrupt before the subject can move on. "...sir," you add hastily.

His posture tightens just slightly at the interjection. "Go ahead, Commander."

You reach out and use your fingers to widen the angle of the holographic model. Then you turn it, inspecting it carefully, first on one side, then the other. "When was the layout of this station last updated?"

"The latest recon available was from sixteen months ago. Why?"

Your head shoots upward from the table. "Sixteen months? I submitted several updated reports on this post just a few weeks ago. These details are completely wrong."

His brow furrows and an air of uncertainty falls over the rest of the briefing attendees.

"What do you mean, 'completely wrong'?"

You give a small shake of your head in disbelief. "They've made considerable increases in security since this. For one thing, there's no 'main guard'. Security forces are spread throughout the many additional levels which aren't shown on this map. And the rest of those levels are filled with soldiers, not automated. Aside from that, they have a failsafe for their security system - rayshielded entrances that lock into place when activated from a remote base of operations which is in orbit. Intruders can't shut down the security from the ground; it's a two-part countermeasure."

Silence falls over the briefing group, and Obi Wan brings his arms out from behind his back, folding them over his chest and bringing a hand up to stroke his chin. After a moment of contemplation, he looks back at you.

"How certain are you of these changes?"

"I've done multiple inspections and received reliable information from inside their supply lines. I sent all the details in my reports."

"Then why did we not receive them?" he asks plainly. The question isn't directed at you; more rhetorical, or open for discussion.

You shake your head again. "I sent them directly to the chancellor's office, as instructed."

His hand drops from his chin. "The chancellor's office?"

You tilt your head just slightly, giving him a careful look at his surprised response. "I received orders several months ago that all reports in this sector were to be submitted through encrypted channels to the office of the chancellor, for more direct communication."

When he continues staring at you, you add, "The orders came from the Council."

His frown deepens. "I remember no such order."

"Regardless of the reason," Captain Pais observes delicately, "It appears we are missing crucial intelligence. How do you suggest we proceed?"

"I have the updated reports in my personal logs. We may be able to come up with something if we reevaluate."

Obi Wan doesn't give another moment's hesitation at your offer. "We have very little time as it is. Please, get them. I'll come with you."

Turning back to the group around the table, he adds, "You are dismissed, for now," and then follows as you leave the room.

Your pace is quick and a little nervous as he falls into step beside you, his footsteps as confident as ever. You glance over at him. "I have to say, I'm a little confused."

"Confused?"

"When I arrived, I wondered why you'd requested me for this mission. Then I saw the location, and I assumed my knowledge of the outpost would be helpful. Now it turns out that you never even received my reports."

You shake your head a bit. "If you'll forgive my asking, why me? Any Jedi would be capable of accessing a station like the basic one you thought this was."

He's quiet for a beat. "It wasn't my request. The Council assigned you here."

You reach the hatch to your ship and open it, turning your face away from him to hide how foolish you feel for asking. "Ah."

"I believe they had good reason. These listening posts are known to destroy all records as soon as any breach is detected. Normal attack or infiltration wouldn't be an adequate plan. Your skills were -are needed to ensure we retrieve the data with as little chance of detection as possible. If we're discovered before we reach it, all will be lost."

"I see," you answer, logging into your personal records and pulling up your reports. "That explains it."

He looks at you for a moment, then continues, "I did mean what I said on the bridge, you know."

Your eyes flicker from the screen over to him and you look at him questioningly.

"I may not have asked you here, but it is good to see you."

The heat in your cheeks intensifies and you turn back to the screen, retrieving the report and sending it to him.

"It's... good to see you, too."

He gives you an amiable look, if not quite a smile, then pulls it up on the datapad in his hand and walks a few paces away.

As he reads through the material, you're left without much to do. You're already intimately familiar with the information, but you pass your eyes over the screen in front of you to skim the material anyway, and when you finish, your eyes slowly drift back to him.

He's concentrating deeply on the datapad, eyes focused and darting quickly over words and diagrams. Without your permission, your gaze falls down the profile of his face, fixating on the rigidness of his jaw, the whispers of grey at his temple now spreading into more noticeable patches, the once warm tan at his neck, now turned to a deep and lasting bronze. You let yourself stare for just a moment longer, trailing over his shoulders and falling down to where the armor defines the cut at his waist. The way he's holding himself is the same as always, and yet something is different.

When he'd kept his hair long, when you'd been his Padawan, he'd had such strength and tenacity, his chest full and upright, his shoulders broad and stiff, his back creating a hard, straight line. All of those things are the same now, but there's something else. The war seems to have softened and hardened him all at once. His posture is more self-assured than ever, and yet it lacks the bravado of his youth. It's melted into true confidence, a commanding air of expertise about him, exuded with every movement.

It had been true the last time you'd seen him, but a year later, it's more evident than ever before - he had been a warrior. Now, he's a general.

You're about to pull your gaze back to the screen when he slowly takes a few steps while reading and settles himself into a chair. Your ship is a small transport vessel, so there's not much space, and the seat is small. It's surrounded by a ledge, and he leans back in the chair to hold the datapad in front of himself with one hand, letting his other arm stretch over the ledge behind him.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him spreading out, and though you know there's nothing inherently sexual about it - he's probably more comfortable sitting this way in full armor - you can't stop staring. You fixate on the way he's holding the datapad in his lap. You imagine the way he held your head in his hands...

He's looking at you. Your eyes snap up. You flick your gaze back down to the datapad and then meet his eyes again. "Do you have any questions so far?" Your voice comes out higher than usual, and you try to play it off as casual lightness.

He blinks, seeming deep in thought. "No. It's quite comprehensive, thank you. I just wondered if there might be something here."

He stands and brings the datapad over to you, zooming in on a small access panel on the eastern side of the station.

"It's underwater so it isn't monitored by these security checks you've indicated. The only problem is that it is covered by the electromagnetic barrier that surrounds the entire outpost. We could access it, but not using technology. Not even rebreathers."

You try to ignore the way your chest flutters when he leans into you so you can both see the datapad clearly, and you think for a moment, despite the fact that he smells so good.

"I might have a solution. Storne. He's amphibious."

"Your friend from Bespin?" he clarifies, and you nod in return.

"If we make the payment worth his while, I'm sure he could be here within a matter of hours."

He regards you carefully, then looks back at the image of the outpost as if reconsidering all the options. After a long pause, he lowers the pad. "Very well; contact him. It may be our best chance."

You nod again, turning back to the main screen to send him a message. When you finish, Obi Wan is still dragging his fingers down either side of his beard, deep in thought.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea?" you offer. You don't have much on board besides tea and a few ration packs, while the main ship will have plenty more options for food and drink, but you still feel you should say something to break the silence.

He glances over at you as if he'd forgotten he was in the room. "Tea... yes, thank you."

You switch on the kettle while he seats himself again, and while the water quickly comes to a boil, you speak over your shoulder.

"I do have one other suggestion."

"I'm open to anything."

"I should be the one going inside the station, not Shrike. It'll be more effective for me to actively participate than to stay outside and work through the force. If I can use my eyes and ears to evaluate as we go, it will be easier to prevent any mistakes."

You turn to look at him as you add the tea leaves to the boiling kettle. His expression is hesitant.

"I would consider that risk to be greater than the reward."

"In what way?" you ask, frowning.

"There is a high likelihood that this will end in a fight for escape. With the level of security and the numbers of the enemy, our only goal is to make it inside without issue. Getting out is another matter. You would be of better use outside the line of fire."

Your hands still on the handle of the kettle. You place it back down on the counter without pouring. "I've always been useful enough in combat before."

"And you are certain that you still are?"

Your breath halts. His words sting. But you reach out calmly and pour the tea anyway, not wanting to show any sign of emotional response.

"I may have taken some time away, but I'm still capable of handling myself."

You turn and bring both of your cups with you, handing one over to him.

"Thank you," he says, then places the cup on a shelf beside him as he continues looking at you.

"Commander, you may feel that you are prepared, but I... have doubts."

He says it slowly and softly, but the message is no less painful. You meet his eyes.

"I don't believe that you're more qualified to evaluate my own abilities than I am." Your face flushes hot when the words leave you, and you quickly add, "...sir."

He doesn't rise to your bait. He just looks at you with the same compassion he's always shown you. "It is my duty to evaluate the abilities of all those under my command, as well as my own."

The silence stretches between you, your embarrassment at arguing with your general only compounded by his grace in response. He looks to the side, as if gathering his words, and then looks back at you again.

"You are unbalanced."

He says it simply, not accusing or disappointed. You can't meet his eyes.

"I can still perform my duties," you say, seeing no point in trying to deny it.

"Perhaps I can help."

You shake your head. "There's nothing you can do for me."

"I have my doubts," he retorts, his unfailing confidence in his own abilities as frustrating as it is consoling.

"I am lost," you admit. "But I know I can only find the path I need on my own."

He raises his brows gently. "How can you be so sure?"

You let out a deep sigh, then take a sip of your tea while he watches you. Finally, you take a seat across from him, and you answer.

"Master," you start, allowing yourself to slip back into familiar terms and knowing he'll allow you to do so. "When you connect with the force, what do you feel?"

He pauses to consider before giving his response. "I feel warmth and comfort, as if I am grounded in something permanent and unchanging. I feel surrounded and filled with a presence of peace and certainty."

You nod slowly. "I also feel a sense of warmth and comfort. But when I reach out to the force, it doesn't feel unchanging or steady to me. It's like immersing myself in a flood. I'm filled with the purpose of the universe and I feel the current of every living being around me."

He nods along with you, encouraging you to go on.

"...but there's nothing to hold onto. When I was younger, it was hard for me to surrender to the force because it felt so much like losing myself. You showed me how to find myself within the force, and everything changed. It was wonderful."

You take another breath before continuing. "Until... until what happened on Oba Diah showed me the consequences of losing myself entirely."

He's quiet for a long time. "And... you feel that you can no longer trust in the force because of this?"

You bite your lip. "I've never felt I could trust in the force enough to give myself over completely to its will. Something has always held me back. Maybe I've always been unbalanced, to some degree."

He sighs softly. "I have told you for many years, young one, the force is balance. You must not hold back from it. You will find your balance if you release yourself to its will."

You swallow. Some part of you knows he'll never be able to understand that it's because he is balanced that he believes the force is in perfect balance as well. He can find himself in it so easily.

"I understand, Master. And I will try. But, I must trust in myself as well. In my own judgement."

He looks at you uncertainly. Then he stands. "How long before Storne will arrive?"

You glance over at the comms screen, standing up to go over and check the pending response. After you read it, you report, "Eleven hours."

"Plenty of time for meditation. Would you like to join me?"

You sigh internally, appreciating the gesture but wishing you could explain to him the certainty you feel that it will make no difference.

"Of course."

You close the main hatch of the ship for privacy, then sit next to him on the floor, folding your legs to mirror his posture. His eyes are already closed, and you close yours as well.

"Quiet your thoughts. Let them pass. Listen only to the force."

His words are familiar. It's a mantra he's used with you for countless sessions. You sink into the sound of his voice and try to obey.

Minutes pass as you settle into your own mind, lowering your barriers and reaching out into the ether. The force answers your beckon, enveloping you as always - predictably, comfortingly. As more time passes, you let the soft hum of your own aura open itself to the force's stronger current, releasing yourself to its embrace. You repeat Obi Wan's words in your mind, listening only to the force.

"You have grown strong, my Padawan," his voice echoes richly in your mind, padded with the energy of the force when he speaks.

Your face remains neutral as you answer him with your eyes still closed, although his choice to use your old title makes your heartbeat quicken. "I've had plenty of time for meditation and practice."

You feel his aura at the edge of your own, starting to nudge for your acceptance. You let him in gratefully, welcoming his steadying presence. It's been so many years since you've felt it. It nearly overwhelms you.

You take in a deep breath, leveling out your breathing, reminding yourself to keep your focus on the force.

"And yet your faith is lessened. You have said you trust in your own abilities, as I trust in my own. Use that trust. Reach into the force, and let go."

Your pulse picks up even more. His presence is surrounding you, asking to give yourself over. You remain steadfast within yourself. "I... know what will happen."

"You are afraid."

"Yes."

His voice somehow soothes you and fills you with apprehension at the same time. "Fear is not real. Only the force is real."

"My fear is based in reality. How can I ignore it?" Your eyes are still closed but your brows are pushing together, almost in a frown.

"We all experience fears. But they are not a part of you. You can separate yourself from those thoughts."

You're quiet again for a long stretch of time. It could be minutes, or it could be hours. Your only concentration is on doing as he's instructed. But no matter how you reach into the force to take your fears from you, they stay. He speaks again softly when he feels you struggling.

"You're holding on."

"I'm not trying to," you say back, a little too quickly.

"Yes, you are."

He says it with perfect clarity. He's not disparaging or chiding you. He's simply pointing out the truth. But it gets to you. It evokes a reaction, finally, because you know that it's true.

You feel your presence in the force become uneven, wavering and malformed. "You don't understand. I know you're trying to help, but you can't understand."

"Then help me to understand," he responds, his tone still firm and neutral, as if he hasn't noticed your change in demeanor.

You fight for a moment longer, and then you give in. "I am... not the Jedi I was before. Or maybe I never was the Jedi I should be. I feel... things I shouldn't feel. And I can't set them aside. Not like you."

You feel him pulling away from you, almost imperceptibly. "It is not that I set my feelings aside. I surrender them to the will of the force. The burden can only be lifted when you stop trying to carry it."

You squeeze your eyes more tightly shut. "I am trying, Master, but you don't know the burden I carry."

This time, you really feel it when he pulls away. "That is not true."

"I..." you flounder, surprised at his reaction. "I didn't mean that you don't have your own burdens. But yours are not like mine."

He takes in a long, slow breath and releases it. "I know what you carry."

His aura dims a little, almost flickering like a candle.

"I live with the knowledge each day that I took unnecessary lives. Undefended lives. I remember the fear in their eyes as I..." he breaks off, swallowing. "I remember all of it."

You continue to sit in silence, each of you reflecting. When his presence beside you becomes steady again, he goes on.

"And the other mistakes I made... The thoughts and actions of that night will be with me for the rest of my life."

Your stomach tightens, the blood in your face heating. "I... can't forget, either."

"We don't need to. We only need to rely on the strength of the force."

"And..." your throat goes dry. "What if these thoughts have... continued?"

Your connection slips apart for a moment, and he doesn't answer. His presence his hazy, hard to read. You regret your words immensely, until he speaks again.

"I've already told you, you don't carry your burden alone."

You're about to ask what he means when his aura surrounds you again. This time, though, it's like nothing you've ever felt from him. It is heavy, sweet and carnal. The thoughts within him are so clear, the images so bright. He's only allowing you to see a small part of himself, but that part is howling.

You feel yourself immediately getting wet, watching the memory of him brushing a thumb over your nipple while he kisses your neck, thrusting into you from behind. His moan fills your ears, although there's no sound in the room. You feel the heat of his mouth on your neck, a phantom touch that sends shivers over your entire body. You're drawn in, almost reaching for more of the feeling, but it's buried within an endless stream of filthy vision after filthy vision, and you can only see the very top of the collection.

It's like looking into one of your own dreams.

As quickly as he opened it, he severs the connection and you blink your eyes open, finding yourself staring into his. You're almost panting from the whiplash. He clears his throat, appearing completely unaffected.

"I have struggled. I will continue to struggle. But I will continue to seek guidance in the force. As should you. It is not an easy path, as you have said. But it is not one that you walk alone."

Your mind is spinning. Your heart is racing. Your eyes are fixated on his mouth as he speaks, and for all the wrong reasons.

Then he releases another long breath and settles back, closing his eyes to return to his meditation.

"So, shall we begin again?"

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cafeinthemoon · 10 months

Text

King - Chapter VII

Chapter VII

Wordcount 4,3k

Title The Quake

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 🖤

Warnings: basically the same warnings as the previous chapters; harassment against reader (from a guard); mentions of death, blood and use of weapons

Tagging @cloveradora @the-dumber-scaramouche @mikkies @sl33py-zer0 @nooneknows8976 (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: So, this chapter was becoming too long and I decided to divide it in two, so the next one will be published soon and it will be a direct continuation of this one, with a return to a ~familiar scenario and a deep conversation between reader and her not so soft husband 😅

I know the time between one chapter and the next has been too long, and I'm sorry for that, but something that might explain this is that this ff in particular brings a big volume of information in each chapter, and I have to be careful to share the right amount of it each time I post an update. There are still secrets to be unveiled and challenges to overcome here, and I'm using this story to train my patience (and yours as well lol)

Hope you enjoy this one and wait for the next 👀🔥

After staring at the basket for a few more seconds, Suriah put it back on her lap and raised her eyes to you again. There was no sign of sadness or shame in them; instead, you saw a glimmer of mental peace that you’d never suppose to exist in someone who has been enduring this number of adversities.

– I understand your shock – she commented with a smile – After all, a human girl would never survive this. But you don’t need to be so worried about my well-being. Our species are stronger than yours in this sense. Usually, a woman among us would deliver half of this number of eggs a year, and I myself didn’t want to deliver a single one. Besides, in case you’re wondering, they weren’t all delivered in just one day, just like they weren’t formed in one day. It took me at least three days in a row to produce all these ones – she sighed, as if recalling the tiredness provoked by the task – It was such a labor, but after the first time, I started to believe that, if I managed to do this, nothing could be impossible to me. It was sort of liberating.

The silence among the girls persisted. Since you had nothing to say in response, you stood quiet as well. But that didn’t mean you had no feelings towards it.

Liberating? What could be liberating in such situation? And after all of this, how can she still have the guts to say he loves us? How?

Your inner debate might have shown in your face, for Suriah looked at you with sympathy, speaking specifically about this.

– You seem to be struggling to understand how I was able to endure all of this – she shrugged – But I think it was only fair. I pleaded, my husband offered me a deal, I accepted the conditions, but lost the game. I knew where I was getting into since the start, but I said yes anyway. I am the one to blame in this case, am I not?

That was just too much for you. Suddenly, your tongue was released and from your mouth leaked everything that was in your chest; you didn’t care about the possibility of your words reaching Poseidon’s ears, provoking indignation among the wives who agreed with Suriah or hurting her feelings; you just spoke.

– You said that the game was popular among the gods – you started – This can only mean that it’s unknown to most of us mortals. Besides, he gave you an incredibly short amount of time to learn all the rules before sending you to compete with an expert – you took an unconscious step closer to the table – Of course, your chances were few, and he knew it since the start! He gave you an impossible task and he was aware of this! I don’t understand how this is fair! – you lowered your tone a bit, but your rage was still felt in your words – I don’t understand how you can say this is love…

Another low voice was heard before Suriah could think of a reply.

– You see, this is one of the reasons why Poseidon-sama doesn’t like bringing humans to his domains.

It was Melian. You turned to her and saw no sign of provocation or disdain in her expression, only sadness.

– Your love and your justice are just not like the ones of the gods – she continued, serious – You’re always bringing contention and dissatisfaction with you, always trying to unveil things that are supposed to stay out of your reach. You just don’t fear the gods. This is what they used to say around here, and now that we have not only one, but two of you with us, we can say how much of this is true.

That time, the response came from Alyssa.

– We do fear the gods – she spoke with a firmness in her tone that was new to you – We just can’t accept what is unacceptable.

Melian swallowed. Apparently, she would never get used to the human way of thinking. Suriah, still maintaining her calmness, brought the attention back to herself again.

– Tell me, human, what is your name again? – she spoke to you.

– Y/n.

– So, y/n, can you satisfy our curiosity and tell us what kind of offer you’ve received from our husband?

Contrary to what you imagined, you didn’t feel that request as something intrusive: instead, you found in yourself an urge to speak about the contract you sealed, and a weight was taken off of your chest when you did it.

– I was given one year to observe his children training and learn about their most effective combat techniques. After this, I have to find ways to counteract these techniques by figuring out their weaknesses. The methods I will use to fulfill this task don’t matter, but if I’m unable to do it – you swallowed – I shall be just like you.

Suriah seemed to thought of this for a moment before replying, and a new wave of tension built across the room: the girls stared at you with a sort of compassion and fear, as well as relief for not being in your place. Besides, just like you, they were eager to hear what Suriah had to say.

And this was what she had for you:

– A task with its own difficulties – she frowned – It might be harder than mine in some aspects, but easier in others. Also, it might hide surprises, not all of them sweet. How do you feel about it?

Now that everyone knew about your mission, you had no reasons to disguise how you felt.

– I’m nervous. Even scared.

Suriah nodded.

– It’s a good sign. Only a fool would not feel like this after receiving a task from Poseidon-sama. But what exactly do you fear?

– I’m not a warrior – you shrugged – I’m a merchant, daughter of merchants. I only know how to negotiate. My knowledge cannot be applied to anything but this.

The older woman kept her composure. She took a moment adjusting the basket on her lap, then turned back to you.

– Hm… As far as I can see, every human is a warrior, and you are not different from your pairs. Just a few moments ago, you almost swore you wouldn’t have children. Such determination is rare in someone this young. Do not let it die. Take the time you have, girl, and work with all you got. You say your knowledge cannot be applied to your task, but every knowledge is necessary, and it can save us when we least expect.

You swallowed.

– I remember my parents saying something similar when I was a child and didn’t want to study certain topics.

Suriah smiled with sympathy.

– And they were right, and I wish I learned this when I did my negotiation – she pointed at you as someone who gives a mixture of alert and advice – My task was impossible, and I knew I lost since the start. But maybe you have a chance to make a difference, even with these delicate arms of yours. And, honestly, it would be fun if you succeed and entertain our husband.

***

When you left the hall in the company of Alyssa, you had more questions than answers.

– The only thing I know for sure now is that I still have many things to learn about these people – you were saying – The way they take slavery for love is something that I just cannot accept.

Your friend was taking slow steps beside you, with her arm entwined with yours.

– If I was you, I’d give up while I can – she laughed – This got me surprised when I arrived here too, and even now I feel uncomfortable whenever they talk about it, which, fortunately, only happens in rare occasions. But they’re not entirely wrong. For example, when Suriah said our husband doesn’t get along with rebel women, it is true for both mortals and goddesses.

The conversation you had about Amphitrite came back to your memory, but you said nothing about it. Instead, you focused on Suriah.

– I don’t understand how she knows so much about us. Did you make friends with her when you came here?

– Not exactly, but she helped me in the first days – Alyssa explained – She’s one of the oldest women here, so she does this for each new girl. There aren’t rules about experienced wives supporting the younger ones, but it’s a sort of tradition she built around herself. You know, her people are notorious for their incredible lifespan among the mortal species, and their capacity of reproduction, as she explained. She has known many people from many folks over the years and, since she’s been here for years and is one of the most fertile wives, she has some status. The other girls and the servants respect her. And as far as I could see, she sympathized with you.

– I see… – you turned to Alyssa and lowered your tone – And how does he see this?

The girl became suddenly serious. It was unnecessary to explain to whom you were referring to.

– If she has succeeded in her task, I guess it would have been a problem for him. But, since things happened differently, he doesn’t mind. He gets what he needs from her, and that’s all that matters.

Your conversation was interrupted by a voice behind you.

– Excuse me.

You both turned to the voice’s owner, and you recognized the noble girl from the Northern Waters, the same people of the priestess who ran to the waves the day you arrived. You saw her at the dining room, but she took a seat in place away from you. Given that she was a member of her species’ high society and displayed a quiet behavior, you didn’t focus your attention on her, convinced that she held the same disdain for humanity as many of the other women, but now that you had the chance to observe her from close and without the interference of a noisy and unfavorable environment, you started to think you were wrong.

And the shy manner with which she spoke to you reinforced it.

– Are you y/n, the human girl who just talked to Suriah?

You nodded.

– Yes, I am – you indicated your friend – And this is Alyssa. She’s also human.

The girls greeted themselves and the noble introduced herself.

– My name is Taulah. We arrived together with the latest carriage.

– Yes, I remember you – and, recalling the other girl’s fate, – I’m sorry for what happened to your pair that day.

Taulah gave you a sad smile.

– Her name was Doonah. She was my childhood friend. Despite being one of the most dedicated priestesses of our region, she never felt comfortable with the idea of being trapped. To her, the sea represented freedom and movement, so when she found out that she was chosen to marry the god she always loved and served, she was radiant… – the girl lowered her tone, and part of the glow in her eyes disappeared as she recalled the incident – However, after what that servant said, all the happiness and expectations died inside her… and she didn’t see any reason to keep living…

You three spent a moment in silence. Alyssa was the first to speak.

– They did the same when I arrived. There was one girl who succumbed to the guide’s provocation and did the same as your friend. Later, at night, I listened to a melody that entered through my room’s window. It was a sad song that reminded me of a flute. The morning after, I asked a maid about this and she said it was Poseidon-sama’s whistle, coming from the Main Tower.

You and Taulah looked at her at the same time.

– They explained that, every time a wife or a bride dies, he walks to the highest spot of this tower, opens the window and whistles to the outside – Alyssa continued – At the same time, he sends a sacred shell to the depths of the sea in honor of her. When they told me this, I didn’t know if I should cry or be shocked.

You held your breath. So, that was the answer for the mysterious tune, followed by that light you witnessed that night. You’ve been wanting to ask about it for days, but the opportunity never came.

– I heard when he whistled in honor of Doonah – you revealed – It was heartbreaking... and beautiful at the same time.

Taulah’s response to this was composed, as expected from someone of her position, but didn’t lack emotion.

– An appropriate way to honor a loyal, honest priestess. She would’ve loved it.

Alyssa and you agreed. Taulah changed the subject.

– Well, I came here to say that I’m impressed with your courage, y/n – she told you – The way you stood up for your friend and for yourself in the middle of so many strangers… – she smiled – That was incredible.

Your face warmed up to this compliment: getting unexpected recognition from someone you misjudged provoked a strange feeling.

– We’re kind of alone here – you glanced at Alyssa – We need to have each other’s back.

– Yes – Taulah agreed with enthusiasm – Anyways, I wish you luck with your task. And if you need anything, I’ll be here.

– Thank you, Taulah.

The girl nodded, and that marked the beginning of a new friendship, the second you conquered in that strange world, but one that made you think that, whatever the future had for you, it might not be impossible to overcome.

You said goodbye to each other like close allies.

– I’ll take Alyssa back to our room now – you said – She needs to rest.

– Go. Be safe.

You three separated right after, with the girl from the Northern Waters rushing back to the dining room and you giving your arm to Alyssa, following on a slow walk back to the lodge.

***

You helped Alyssa to get comfortable in her bed, adjusting the pillows behind her back, borrowing a cushion for her to rest her feet and covering her with a blanket: she used to take a nap for two hours or three after lunch, while you spent this period reading the books brought by the servants.

That time, however, you would try something different.

– Where are you going? – Alyssa asked with her eyes half closed.

You were preparing yourself to leave the room, changing your shoes for a more comfortable pair and wrapping the shawl you were given by your husband around your shoulders.

– I’m going to visit the Library – you explained – I found out we have permission to use it for both studying and diversion, so I’m heading there to research some things.

– Is it about your task?

– Yes – you walked to the door; and, turning the knob, – My father used to say that a good merchant is always taking opportunities to gather knowledge, and Suriah spoke about my abilities being useful in this task. I need to find something that helps me in this sense.

– I see – she whispered, adjusting her blanket – Just remember that the way to the Library is long from here. So, be careful.

You replied that this was precisely why you changed your shoes, then left the room.

***

Since the wives are previously informed about the premises of the palace they were allowed to go to, one day you took the opportunity to ask a servant how you could reach the Library, the rules for using the books and the periods of the day when it was open to visitors. Now, while recalling the information you gathered, you walked through the corridors searching for the passage between the tower that housed the women’s lodge and the one where the Library was, which, according to the servant’s explanation, was a narrow bridge that connected the two towers in the inner side of the building, at the North Wing.

You were now walking down a staircase that should lead to the place through which the bridge could be accessed, your heart racing with the perspective of approaching the desired place. You looked around and quickly recognized the servant’s description, and the bridge was almost under your sight’s reach...

When a sudden, strong quake hit the floor and spread to the walls and the stairs, reaching your spot and making you fall before you could think of grabbing the handrail.

It came fast, and left even faster. When it was over, you tried to stand up, but found out your entire body was aching, as if your fall happened from a higher place and not the few stairs you still had to walk down. You found that strange, but for now the pain wouldn’t allow you to think too much.

You breathed deep and tried to stand up again when you sensed you were ready. You adjusted your clothing and massaged your forehead on the spot that hit the floor.

You just witnessed your husband’s bad mood.

It was just like the day we arrived… With such a man ruling over it, I don’t know how this castle is still standing! Anyways, thank Heavens he’s far away from here, and I can only hope he stays like this.

It was when you realized your surroundings were no longer the same.

What you saw before the quake was the end of the stairs before you, and the connection between it and the small passage that would lead to the bridge, located at your left. Now, instead of this, you saw yourself in the middle of a long, empty corridor surrounded by high, bluish walls and a ceiling from which a soft, white light descended; you didn’t take long to see that its end was far from your spot. However, the scariest thing was that, when you turned around, you saw that the staircase just disappeared, being replaced by the other side of the same corridor, and this end was closer to you, with a wall identical to the ones on your sides to indicate it, and a parallel corridor that preceded it.

You started walking in that direction, observing this strange location.

– What kind of place is this? – you murmured unconsciously – No doors, no windows, no decoration…

You came to the conclusion that it was just a passage, where people wouldn’t stop to do anything – not even appreciate its beauty, since there was no art in there. Not only this, but the absence of doors that would lead to rooms or to other corridors indicated that this wasn’t an access many people would use.

It was when you stopped suddenly, your heart jumping inside your chest.

What if I’m in a forbidden place?

The idea came to you only when it was too late.

When you were a few meters before the end, a pair of tall, green-skinned guards wearing helmets and holding tridents similar to the one of their master appeared from the right corner and turned it to take your corridor, advancing in large steps toward you.

You took a step back, tightening the shawl around yourself; there was no way to escape, whether running back to your previous spot or trying to pass through them: their legs seemed too long, ideal for a marathon, and those tridents were too long and too sharp besides, you couldn’t tell if they would forgive an attempt to evasion even if it came from one of their Lord’s wives.

The guards were so entertained with their chatting that they almost bumped into you, not coming to this point because you jumped back with a little scream. When they finally became aware of your presence, they fell silent, and the smiles on their faces slowly faded into a suspicious expression.

The guard at the left, who seemed to be the older one, was the first to speak.

– What are you doing here? – and, since you kept quiet, – Don’t you know this area is forbidden for mortals?

You considered saying that you were looking for the Library when you fell there after the quake, but something made you think your explanation wouldn’t be accepted, so you just replied like anyone would in a situation like that.

– I didn’t know that… – you glanced beyond the men – Can you lead me to the exit?

The guard’s response was to glance at his partner, then turn back at you with a grin.

– Of course, we can – he started, taking slow steps toward you – But not without giving you the appropriate punishment.

You swallowed. You didn’t know what that man had in mind, and certainly didn’t want to find out. Before he could reach you, you stepped back and uncovered your ears, exhibiting the pearls on your lobes. The younger guard, who stood in the same place, tightened his lips in apprehension, while his companion frowned. Yes, faking a courage you weren’t feeling was risky, but it was your only chance.

– You can’t speak about punishment to me when I am one of Poseidon-sama’s wives – your voice echoed across the place, though you didn’t speak loud – Touching me the wrong way will mean a problem for you.

The two guards had opposite reactions to your words.

The younger one kept his position, not taking a single step toward you, and even tried to warn his partner.

– We should just lead her back to the women’s lodge – he was saying – We’ll be in trouble if someone sees her with us here…

The older guard, on the other hand, showed no worries for this advice and no regard for your earrings.

– These pearls don’t prove anything to me, girl – he replied in challenge – You might have faked them, just like others did before you. Besides, our Lord has taken hundreds of women as his wives. One more or one less in the counting would mean nothing to him!

– You can just take me back to the lodge and I will grant you my silence in return – you insisted – If nothing happens here, nobody needs to know about this encounter!

The guard laughed.

– Well, I think I’ll pass!

You held your breath. Your strategy worked partially, but that wasn’t enough to grant your safeness, and there wasn’t much you could do about it.

Sorry, Alyssa. But I couldn’t be as careful as you recommended.

The guard stretched his hand to grab you, and you jumped back, but you never managed to take more than two steps away from him. You thought you were going to stumble and hit the floor, at the mercy of that man…

But you actually bumped into someone who was right behind you, and who seemed to have appeared there by magic. The person held you by your arms, keeping you in place.

You raised your eyes, thinking you just got trapped by a third guard, ready to apologize and beg for help, when you recognized him and felt your words dying before passing your lips.

– This is the first time I meet you casually and you are already in danger, dragonet – were his first words; and, with a slight smile, – Why am I not surprised?

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing: how did he reach that spot so fast? And how did he do it without making the slightest noise?

Before you could say or do anything, he turned his attention to the older guard, and a transformation occurred on his face: the suggestion of smile disappeared from his lips, turning his face into an emotionless sculpture of marble, and the blue of his eyes decreased to a darker shade, close to black. You sensed the air getting cold around you, almost like the sea water during winter, and shivers started spreading through your skin.

You glanced at the guards, and the unexpected appearance of their Lord in that isolated place provoked different feelings in each of them, judging by what you saw in their faces: the younger one had his anxiety increased now that his worst fear just came true, while the older simply panicked.

– P-Poseidon-sama…!

You were surprised that he was able to say even those few words: his massive body was shaking in a way you didn’t know to be possible, his eyes were almost leaving their orbits and the green of his skin gave place to a sickly yellow that you supposed to be the equivalent of paleness in human skins.

To anyone who would look from a distance, it would seem that Poseidon showed no sign of his feelings, but to you, who were between his arms, the story was different: though no wrinkle appeared on his forehead nor his lips were twisted while he stared at the guard, the change in his eyes’ color was the clearest evidence of his wrath.

His next words, however, weren’t for the man.

– Stay here – he held your shoulders and made you turn your back on the men – Do not look back.

He took a few steps toward the guard, and you never knew exactly what happened after this. There was no scream, cry or plead from any of the men; you just heard a fast sound, as if something sharp just cut the air behind you, followed by a wet, disgusting noise, that started and ended as fast as the previous one. At your right, you saw a red stain appear on the wall, profaning the blue as it descended violently to the floor.

Poseidon’s composed voice was the next thing you heard.

– Send servants to clean this mess – he was saying – And inform your detachment’s leader about this casualty. He will designate a substitute to work with you.

The younger man’s voice mumbled a relieved “yes, my Lord”, and he left as soon as he could.

When the sound of his steps disappeared in the parallel corridor (you didn’t know in which direction), you sensed your husband approaching you again. You tried to glance behind, but before you could see anything, his hand covered the side of your face and you were forced to look ahead. He took you in his arms and started to walk, without saying a word about what just happened.

Just as decreed by Poseidon during your wedding votes, those pearls were indeed their only warning.

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie poseidon #shuumatsu no valkyrie poseidon x reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok poseidon #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok poseidon x reader #snv poseidon #ror poseidon #poseidon snv #poseidon ror

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ereardon · 1 year

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My Girl [Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC]

Summary: Jake Seresin could be the answer to all of your dating woes. He’s the full package: steady job, mature, dependable, attractive to a fault. The polar opposite of every guy your age and he’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner. But there’s one roadblock: he’s a single father to four-year-old Ellie. Jake is looking for a level of commitment you’re not quite sure you’re ready to give, and he’s not willing to bring someone into his daughter’s life who isn’t there for the long haul. And even if you are stepmom material, is Jake ready to let someone back in his life while still mourning the recent loss of his late wife?

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OC [Lawyer Natalie West]

WC: 3.7K

Warning: Age gap, cursing

Series masterlist here

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“Excuse me, ma’am?”

You turned to see the most stunningly attractive man you’d ever seen in real life standing not four feet away holding two boxed cake mixes, one in each hand, with a confused frown etched across his tanned face. “Yes?” you answered, stepping closer, thankful you had chosen to wear a dress to the store instead of your usual yoga pants and dirty sweatshirt.

He held out the boxes. “Which of these would you rather eat?”

You turned your gaze to the boxes. One was a banana cake mix from Dolly Parton’s line with Duncan Hines. The other was a holiday spice cake mix. You looked up at him and squinted. It was early September. “Um.”

He read the hesitation in your voice and cracked a smile. “You can say neither.”

“Oh, thank God,” you breathed out, which elicited a laugh from him. Leaning over, you grabbed the boxes from his hands and pressed them back on the shelves, lifting up a funfetti mix and handing it to him. “Alright, it’s basic, but a crowd favorite. Not sure who you’re making the cake for, but anyone who doesn’t like funfetti is a psychopath so this should cover all your bases.”

He looked at the box before placing it carefully in his grocery cart. You spotted a few candles, some ice cream, eggs, milk. All of the makings of a birthday cake. “Thank you,” he said, leaning against the cart. He had piercing green eyes that were locked on yours, and a casual stance in his joggers and t-shirt that exuded a cocky kind of confidence you found only made its way to men in their thirties. You two were the only ones in the baking aisle. It was eight in the morning on a Saturday, not exactly prime grocery shopping time.

“No problem,” you said, shifting away, back toward your cart. “Hope you enjoy the cake.”

There was a pause in the air before his voice pulled you back in. “Can I get your opinion on frosting, too? Since you’re such an expert, and I’m obviously in need.”

You giggled, and stepped back closer, standing directly in front of the canned frosting, eyeing them carefully. He stepped behind you, close enough that you could almost feel his breath on your shoulder, and it made your skin tingle without him even touching you. If it had been any other random guy, you would have been disgusted by his proximity. But he was different. Light stubble, soft blonde hair that was slightly longer on top, a pair of aviator shades hooked in the front of his plain shirt. He looked like a walking magazine ad and you were shocked he was giving you the time of day.

“I think,” you murmured, reaching forward and grabbing a container, “I would go with chocolate. A little unconventional, if you want to be traditional you would do vanilla. But I’m a chocolate girl.”

Turning around, you went to hand the frosting to him but his hand was already on your wrist, sliding down your fingers slowly to take the canister away from you. You looked up to see him smiling at you. It was almost sinful how good he looked so early in the morning. Quickly, your eyes flickered down. No wedding band. “Thank you,” he said softly, and if anyone had turned down the aisle they would see a thirty-something blond man looming mere inches from a small blonde in a maxi dress, eyes locked in a silent but heated conversation.

“I’m Natalie,” you whispered.

He pulled back after a moment. “Jake.”

Your heart was doing sprints in your chest. You watched as he dropped the chocolate frosting into his cart before scratching at his neck awkwardly.

“I know this probably sounds weird but, would you want to get a coffee sometime?” he asked and you saw that cocky demeanor falter for a moment as his eyes searched your face for an initial reaction. “Unless you’re involved?” Jake trailed off, waiting for your response.

You shook your head and watched his smile begin to cave in, realizing that the head motion had made it seem like you were in a relationship which you definitely were not. “No, sorry!” you rushed, holding up your hands in a panic. “I mean, yes, I’d love to get coffee with you and no, I’m not involved with anyone.” It came out in a flustered jumble and you wanted to smash your head into the bags of powdered sugar to your right to avoid Jake’s smirk.

Jake laughed. It was unrestrained, genuine. It made you feel like you could trust him. “You’re absolutely adorable.”

You groaned and he laughed again, holding out his unlocked phone.

“Here,” Jake said. “Put your number in, I’ll call you.”

Call. It was such a small thing, and it only went to reiterate that your standards had taken on a subterranean level low over the last few years. But twenty-six-year-old guys didn’t call. They texted, and when they did it was at eleven o’clock at night, three drinks deep in a shitty Irish pub. You were tired of dating boys your age.

Jake was obviously not a boy. Your fingers flew over the keyboard, typing in your contact, and when you handed it back to him he raised an eyebrow. “Natalie West.”

You nodded.

His eyes twinkled. “I’ll call you.”

You smiled, tossing him one last look over your shoulder before sauntering back to your cart. “Enjoy the cake!”

Exiting the store, you slipped on a pair of sunglasses and unloaded your groceries into the car. Once you had settled in the driver’s seat, you felt your phone buzz and you pulled it out, a number with a strange area code lighting up the screen.

“Hello?” you said into the phone, hesitant of another telemarketing scheme but concerned that it could be a client so you answered anyway.

“Natalie West,” Jake drawled and your mouth dropped open. You hadn’t expected him to call so soon, or at all. “When can I take you for that coffee?”

You leaned back against the seat. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

***

It was fifteen minutes after four. He was late. You hadn’t expected that from him. The two of you had only interacted for five or so minutes at the grocery store, but he had all of the makings of a gentleman. The slight Southern twang, the fancy watch and casual demeanor. The birthday cake materials for God’s sake. When was the last time Sam had even considered making a birthday cake from scratch? Probably never, unless it was for his mother. You shuddered at the thought.

Just as you were about to pull out your phone and text him, the door swung open and you saw Jake look around, eyes wide. He spotted you in the corner and rushed over, wearing a pair of chino shorts and a short sleeve button down that showed off his tanned, muscular arms. There was a frazzled air that clung to him, a significant contrast to the calm demeanor he had embodied at the grocery store.

“Natalie,” he said, kissing your cheek as you stood to greet him and you felt the buzz of his stubble on your skin as he pulled away. “I am so sorry, honestly. I’m usually never late. I’m annoyingly on time most days. This is an anomaly, I promise.”

You sat down, brushing your fingers over your high waisted shorts and smiled. “It’s alright. Strike one, but you have two left. Not to give you any ideas.”

He flashed an electric grin, spotted the nearly empty iced coffee in front of you. “Fuck, let me buy your second coffee, please?” There was a bit of pleading in his eyes. For the first time you noticed small crows feet near the edges of his eyes when he smiled, or in this case grimaced. “Again, I’m so sorry.”

You reached over and placed a small hand on his, your pink nails and fingertips pressing down reassuringly against his taunt skin. Jake looked down at your hand and then back up at you, noticeably calmer. “Jake, it’s fine. Seriously. Take a breath.”

He sunk back into the chair and sucked in a deep breath. “Thank you. I needed that.”

You smiled, retracting your hand, but not before Jake grabbed it with his fingers, giving you a squeeze. It was a familiar gesture, like you had known each other for years. “Iced oat latte, if you’re going up.”

Jake grinned and stood, and you admired him as he walked toward the counter in his tight shorts.

“So, why were you late?” you asked when he returned to the table, coffees in hand. You silently noted that he drank black iced coffee. It felt like a douchebag choice, like an MBA candidate who wanted to lecture you on the hazards of the Fed’s rate hike rollout plans, but for him it somehow worked.

There was a small, almost unnoticeable moment when Jake froze. And then it was gone. “Just, uh, scheduling issues on my end,” he said after a split second. “Sorry again.”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry about it. I only made it on time because I have this obsessive need to scope out parking for places I’ve never been before, so I left ten minutes earlier than I needed to.”

He chuckled and took a sip of coffee. “So, Natalie, what do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer.” It still felt weird to say.

Jake raised his eyebrows. “Wow, really?”

“You look surprised.”

“You just look, well, young, I guess.” For a second, you worried that perhaps your age was the draw for him. That all he wanted was a good hot fuck, twenty minutes of pleasure, before he tossed you out on your ass still wearing a state school pledge week t-shirt that you had yet to retire.

“I’m twenty-six.”

“God,” Jake groaned, running his hands through his hair. “I was a fucking mess at twenty-six.”

“And how long ago was that?” you asked, leaning over the small marble table. “Twenty years ago? Or just fifteen?”

His green eyes lit up. “You’re quippy. I like that.”

You shrugged. “But seriously, how old are you grandpa?”

He grimaced again and you laughed. “I’m thirty-five.”

Almost a decade older than you. You took a sip of your coffee to avoid saying anything too snippy in response. What did a thirty-five-year-old possibly want with you except sex? And why did that not bother you so much? Your eyes roamed over the canvas that was his body. He looked straight out of a Roman art history textbook about sculpture.

“What kind of law?”

“The boring kind,” you replied softly. “Finance. I work in-house for a fund manager.”

Jake’s eyebrows shot up. “Everything you’ve said in the last two minutes has impressed me.”

You let out a laugh and watched his eyes light up. Despite the age difference, he was easy to get along with. “Alright, now tell me some stuff about you. I feel like this is a one-sided job interview and I’m being grilled.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Um, I’m from Texas. I’ve lived here for about six years now. I’m stationed out at Top Gun.”

You nodded. You’d lived in San Diego long enough to know the Navy’s base on North Island, but until yesterday you had yet to meet anyone who actually worked there. “So what do you do?” you asked. “Sorry, I know literally nothing about the Navy.”

Jake’s lips quirked up on one side. “I’m an aviator. A jet pilot. But mostly now I’m just an instructor.”

A pilot. God, that explained the physique, the effortless charm that oozed out of his pores. It also explained why he was at the grocery store buying cake mix at eight in the morning. He probably had just as terrible of a work schedule as you did.

“Does that buy me cool points?” he asked breezily and you smiled.

“Oh, definitely.”

There was a relaxed charm about him. Two hours passed and you almost forgot that before he had walked through the door you had essentially been strangers. Being with Jake felt easier than you had expected.

He looked down at his watch, eyes growing wide. “Shit, Natalie, I’m so sorry but I have to run.”

You stood up and he placed a large, warm hand on your back, guiding you outside in front of him, opening the door and ushering you through. The temperature had dipped a few degrees since you had arrived, but it was still balmy outside.

The door snapped shut and you turned to Jake. He gave you a soft smile that pulled on the corner of his lips, revealing pearly white teeth.

The two of you stood there outside the coffee shop on the sidewalk for what felt like ages. A palpable tension had settled in the space between your bodies. You kept looking to Jake to make a move, say something, but he looked like he was at a loss for words.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, pressing one hand to his upper arm where his shirt sleeve ended. You tilted your head back, standing on tiptoes to graze your lips softly against his. His eyes flashed open in surprise, hand reaching out and only finding air as you pulled back just as quickly as you had leaned forward.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to go for it, so I thought I would,” you said softly and Jake pushed one hand into his shorts pocket.

“I’m not very good at this,” he admitted after a moment, hanging his head. The suave persona had washed away and the man standing in front of you looked almost timid.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“Dating,” he replied instantly. “It’s been a while.”

You nodded. You knew a divorced man when you saw one. “If it’s any consolation, you’re doing just fine.”

He smiled, reaching out one hand and brushing his thumb over your cheek. “I really do have to go,” he murmured. “But I’d like to see you again. If I haven’t completely turned you off by not even knowing that I should kiss you at the end of a date.”

You let out a small giggle. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

“Goodbye, Natalie West,” he murmured, stepping closer and whispering it into your ear. You shivered as he pulled away, his fingertips brushing your waist, before he stepped out into the road, looking both ways and jogging over to a silver Range Rover parked on the other side of the street. “I’ll call you!”

You shook your head, laughing. “You better!”

***

Jake did, in fact, call. He called every night for two weeks. You spent at least an hour every night talking to him on the phone. Usually you had your Airpods in, folding laundry or doing the dishes, all of the chores that you never got around to during the day when it was purely paperwork and meetings and doing favors for partners.

Jake called at ten o’clock on the dot every night, Monday through Sunday. You learned that he had a dog named Coconut, an old Border Collie, and that he grew up with three sisters on a ranch outside Austin and that he had almost died in a skydiving accident where his parachute very nearly refused to open. You told him about how you had almost passed out waiting to see the results of the bar exam, and how when you were seven you rolled out of bed in your sleep and hit your head on the nightstand, which left you with a small scar down your right cheek.

He was unlike the other guys you had dated. There were a handful of online or app dates, each just as bad, if not worse, than the next. One had asked you on a second date and you almost accepted, before you found his mugshot online for drunk and disorderly conduct. Another had been a resident physician who was probably the most boring man you had ever met, and who loved to talk about himself more than Kanye.

And then there was Sam, your most recent ex. You had met in your second year of law school while on the law review together. It was good, at first. Never great. When school ended, he moved to San Francisco and you stayed in San Diego. Less than four months after he moved, you found out he was sleeping with another associate at his firm.

Jake was a breath of fresh air. He had none of the childish antics that had dominated the personalities of Sam and the other guys you had dated. If he made a promise, he stuck to it.

You saw each other three more times over the course of the two weeks. Another coffee and two dinners. He had stepped forward and kissed you after the coffee date, leaning back and cupping your face in one of his large hands.

“Forgive me,” he murmured. “I’m still getting used to this whole dating thing.”

“You’re getting better,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in close.

After the first dinner, Jake drove you home, pressed you up against the archway of your front door, one hand sliding around the waist of your jeans and up underneath your shirt against your bare back. You had moaned into his lips, felt him harden in his trousers where he was pressed against you. Finally, he pulled back. “Goodnight, Natalie,” he whispered and you pouted.

“Can’t you come in?” you begged.

He shook his head. “I wish, baby. But I have to get home.”

You nodded and he watched from the walkway as you stepped inside, closing and locking the door.

After the second date, you sat in the passenger seat of his Range Rover, Jake’s hand hot on your bare thigh underneath the short hem of your dress. “Jake?” you whispered into his mouth.

“Yeah baby?”

“Where are you always rushing off to?” you asked softly.

He pulled back and you tried to prepare yourself mentally for the worst outcome. That he was married. Or that he lived at home with his mother in a basement, although realistically you knew that his mother still lived back in Texas.

“I’m sorry,” you said after a moment of silence, sitting back in the seat and fiddling with the strap of your Prada shoulder bag. “I’m prying.”

Jake shook his head. “No, not at all. You deserve to know.”

You sucked in a breath. He looked pensive.

“I have a daughter. Ellie. She’s four.”

“Oh.” You let out the breath. That you hadn’t expected.

Jake’s face glowed softly under the moonlight that slid in at an angle across the windshield from where you were parked outside your townhouse. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you, or when would be a good time. But I have a daughter. That’s why I have to keep such a strict schedule. She’s at day care during the day, and then a nanny picks her up when I can’t get off of work. She goes to sleep around eight, which is why whenever I call, it's after that.”

Everything clicked into place. You snuck a peak behind you to the second row of seats and saw a small doll lying on the floor mat behind the driver’s seat. How had you missed that?

“Natalie?” Jake asked softly. “Can you tell me what you’re thinking please?”

“I’m just surprised I guess.”

He frowned. “Is this a deal breaker for you?”

“No!” you rushed out and he smiled lightly. “It’s just, I’ve never dated someone with a kid before.”

Jake smiled. “She’s easy, I promise. But I know it’s not for everyone, so I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. If you want to stop seeing each other, I completely understand.”

You shifted forward, taking Jake’s head into your hands and pressing your lips to his softly. He was by far the best kisser you had ever known. Soft, warm lips carefully moving against yours, his tongue exploring your mouth gently.

Finally, you pulled away.

“I really don’t want to stop seeing you,” you murmured.

“Good,” Jake said, opening his door and stepping out, walking around the truck and opening the passenger door, offering you his hand. You walked hand-in-hand to the front door, and as you opened your bag to pull out your keys, Jake’s voice stopped you short. “What are you doing on Thursday night?”

You leaned against the door. “Depends on what you’re about to ask.”

He grinned. “I’d like to have you over.”

“To your house?”

He nodded. “It’s Ellie’s birthday on Thursday. I’d love for you to meet her.”

Your eyes widened. “Are you sure? Isn’t that like a big deal?”

Jake wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in tighter. “I’m positive. I want you to meet her, and she’ll never be as happy as she is on her birthday.”

Your arms snaked around his neck, one hand rubbing at the nape of his neck. Jake started to practically purr in your ear. “I’ll be there.”

He leaned down, locking you in a kiss, slotting his knee between your legs and you audibly moaned against his mouth as your core ground down against him. The two of you had yet to do anything more than make out, but your body was screaming for him from every pore.

When Jake pulled away, you swore you saw a hint of hesitation in his eyes. But then you blinked and it was gone.

He squeezed your hand. “So, Thursday?”

You nodded, putting the key in the door and turning the lock. Once you were inside, you leaned out through the door frame. “Wait, Jake!”

He stopped and turned on the path back to his truck. “Yeah baby?”

“What the hell kind of gift do I buy for a four-year-old?”

A/N: This is the first time I'm working on two series fics simultaneously, so will be slower to update than previous series! Also this is a storyline that's just close to my heart, as I was raised by a single dad for most of my life so Dad Jake really gets me in the feels!

Tag list: @xoxabs88xox @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @abaker74 @novagreen04 @townmoondaltwistle @rosiahills22 @indynerdgirl @entertainmentgal8 @misshoneypaper @topguncultleader @double-j @amortentiadrops

#jake hangman fic #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin x oc #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #hangman x oc #jake x oc

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airenyah · 4 months

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15 people, 15 questions

I was tagged by @belladonna-and-the-sweetpeas <333

Are you named after anyone?

no. there's a video game character with my name and occasionally people will bring this character up and ask if i was named after her but no, i wasn't. my parents don't play videogames

2. When was the last time you cried?

i honestly don't remember, i don't actually cry all that much. (so if you see me say things like "i'm crying" in the tags then i'm actually only crying in my heart, i'm not shedding any actually tears dfkfkjdf)

last time i cried was either bc i was really angry or really extremely overwhelmed with life during a period where i hadn't slept much or was on my period or so. orrr what is actually even more likely is that the last time i cried was when i cried from laughter while being with friends. i cry from laughter a lot, actually

3. Do you have kids?

nope. i think i could be a good mother if i had to, but ngl, motherhood and parenting doesn't sound very appealing to me. i am planning on becoming an aunt tho. i'll let my brother provide the grandkids and i'll just borrow them occasionally, spoil them, and then i can always give them back when they get too exhausting or annoying 😂

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

i play baseball for fun once a year with old summer camp friends. other than that i'm not very athletic. in elementary school i used to go to schwimmkurse (swimming courses) which was super fun and it's one of the few sports that i'd consider taking up again if i were to do any. i've always liked swimming (but only in places where i can see the ground and where the water isn't too cold. i feel really uneasy when i can't see the ground and i also freeze easily so i'm not a fan of cold water)

5. Do you use sarcasm?

sarcasm? me? neeeeever, not at all 🤭

(^^^this answer is sarcastic, the genuine answer is yes. yes, i do. <- for those struggling to understand sarcasm, esp in written form <3)

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

uhhhhh good question, i don't actually know???? maybe their face, idk

7. What's your eye colour?

blue-gray ish. and i have a yellow/green circle around each pupil. i actually really like my eyes, they're my fave part of my appearance 🥰

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

happy endings for sure!! i could never get into scary movies, idk

9. Any talents?

languages, i guess. at least i'm known as the language genius in my family and my friend groups. but to be honest, there's still a lot about language that i don't know and i don't feel like i'm all that great (esp when my language learning progress feels slower than the one of others. which is totally fine by me bc everyone should go at their own pace, but i just don't like it when people call me a language genius bc i feel like in reality i'm not really living up to that. i just happen to know a little bit more about language than those around me, but compared with actual experts? yeah no, i in no way compare...)

but yeah out of all the skills that i have, languages is one my best ones. and i'm also really good at organizing (aka keeping a million lists and making sure all the props are at the right spots and with the right actors and there's enough spares of everything etc lol)

10. Where were you born?

austria 🇦🇹🇦🇹🇦🇹

(NOT the place with kangaroos just so we're clear dkjgkdjf)

11. What are your hobbies?

(internally) crying over fictional characters, then blorbo-posting about it. sometimes i'll also subject irl-people to my blorbo rants (mainly my mother and some of my friends)

i also take violin lessons and thai classes for fun

12. Do you have any pets?

technically no, but really yes. my mom and my brother share a dog and my parents also have two kitties. i go home a lot bc i don't really like staying in my own flat in the city where i study so they do feel like my own pets as well, esp the kitties <333

^this is nika (the dog) and coco (boy cat). they're besties <3

^this is minou (girl cat). she's the youngest and the smallest of them all, so we nicknamed her "die kleine" (the small one (f))

13. How tall are you?

155 cm

14. What was your favourite subject in school?

german, it was the easiest for me

fun fact: the only subject in school that i ever got a frühwarnung in was english lmao. ("frühwarnung" = early warning and it's what you get when you're about to get an f in your report card for a subject. i got an f in english in my report card for semester break, so i had the whole summer semester to get my grade up to a d)

15. What is your dream job?

director!!!! in theater or film, idk, but i just really wanna be a director. and maybe take some minor acting roles on the side, idk. for now i still feel too shy to do any professional acting, despite having gotten acting training for 3 years djkkdjfg

i'm really looking forward to next summer, bc i get to be assistant director at this one theater that i've worked at as an intern for the past two summers. the assistant directors that i've worked with so far at this theater have both sucked and both times i ended up more or less taking on the job myself anyway (to the point where they even paid me for my work despite my position usually being an unpaid one) and so this summer i was like "uhhh guys so what if for next summer's production i just work as an assitant director right away instead of an intern?" and they were like "omg you're hired" 😂

tagging following 15 people:

feel free to ignore if you don't want to do it or tag me in/send me yours if you've already done it, i'd like to read it <3

@newyearknwwme @moonkhao @visualtaehyun @lurkingteapot @callipigio @waitmyturtles @sunnenfinster @cornflowershade @celestial-sapphicss @killiru @gaym3bo1 @nongnaos @dimplesandfierceeyes @gillianthecat @ranchthoughts

bonus: @telomeke i know you've already been tagged, so this is just to ask you to tag me when you've thought of all your answers, i wanna read yours too 👀

#tag game

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gayerthanevertbh · 2 years

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conversations with your demons - part 5.

summary | you spend your time with natasha, who’s taking your virginity. after that encounter, there are flashes of regret in your face. she was there to comfort you, although it felt different. warnings | 18+ YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! top!natasha, smut, pet names, loss of virginity (r receiving), bleeding (brief), natasha being a little unhinged, and a little angst in the end. let me know if there’s more. notes | this is not my proudest work, but lucian told me it was alright. i hope you enjoy this! mistakes are all mine, let me know what else to add to my warnings. series masterlist | masterlist | tag list series

She undresses me with the softest fingers, her lips attached to mine while doing so. I was barely an expert, couldn’t understand or even try to touch her – but I was there, holding her neck while her calloused palms traveled up to my ribs, holding me so gently. I was now topless in front of her, my nipples hardening when the cold mystic air hit them. Natasha looks at me with wanting eyes, but kind. It was as if she understood that I would never let anyone touch me, and the way she even held me made me feel so safe with her – like I could really trust her.

“Can I take off yours too?” I asked timidly, my eyes fluttering shut when her tongue darts out on my neck, making a swiping motion. She gives a long hum and pulls away from my marked neck, nodding. I quickly hooked my fingers on the hem of her black tank top and pulled it upwards – almost gasping when I could see her sports bra along with her hard abs that were shown to my face; godly. Oh, how incredibly beautiful she was. My throat began to tighten with an image of her fingers wrapping around my neck while pumping inside my–

“Lay back down sweetheart,” she softly commands, kicking off her sweatpants until I she was fully nude. We stared at each other, somehow thinking if this was a good idea. For me, it was – I think it was since there was a moment in my life where I thought about her taking my virginity, but this was just recent. There’s also this thought that she might have regrets, maybe even thinking she could have possibly taken advantage of me. It was consensual, of course. She brings her hands to my breasts slowly and moaned quietly when my perked nipples hit against her palm.

“You’re going to be the death of me, baby girl…” she mutters, firmly groping my breasts while my hips were pressed against hers. Natasha thought about how small and fit well my breasts were with her rough hands, how much she longed for them ever since she has those thoughts about me. It made her feel the youth that she always longed for, the feeling of being in love again. She thought about it for a while if she has possibly fallen in love with me, but maybe she has.

I lifted my face up to kiss her again, her lip was taking my lower one. She brought her hands to my back – pulling me close to her until we were in a make-out session that we made. Her tongue danced around mine while her other hand was threaded through my wet hair, pulling me possessively closer to her face. Natasha grunts softly and pulls away with our lips smacking, she smiles at me and says: “Are you sure about this?”

Was I ready for this? The answer was yes, I definitely was. There was no one else who could possibly take my virginity other than Natasha – who I seemed to long for as well as she longed for me. I cupped her warm cheeks, almost making my heart flutter when her right cheek leaned against the palm of my hand. I nodded and slowly kissed the tip of her nose. “Yes, bear. I’m sure.”

She gently me back on the soft mattress and kisses my lower lip, then on to my jaw as her fingers danced on the skin of my waist – giving a comforting sensation, letting me know that I was only safe with her. She bent her head down and smiled to herself when I was only wearing pink lacey underwear with a tiny ribbon in the middle. Naughty thoughts flooded through her head like a maniac, and she wanted to fuck me at this minute. Her hand slowly travels to my panties and took a peek inside it. I could hear her say with a chuckle: “You’re shaved, huh little one? I like it shaved.”

I could feel my lower stomach tingling with need as she says those words expertly. She lifted her head once again and smirked down at me, kissing my full lips with her wet mouth. Inside her mouth was warm and so inviting, that I could let her kiss me for hours. She pulls away again and spreads my legs open, slowly maneuvering herself down while giving a peck on the skin of my stomach. Once her lips were at my belly button, she kisses it twice with a desperate whine. I didn’t know Natasha could be so needy when it involved sexual intercourse. Although, I also did notice that she liked to be the dominant one – especially with her words that slip out of her tongue pretty easily. It was fine with me, I liked it that way.

She hooks her fingers into the hem of my panties and pecks down on my pelvis, her eyes glued to mine. I flexed my abdomen when she pulled down the cotton underwear very slowly, teasing me for that matter. When it was finally off, we were both naked and I could feel how nervous I was then. She notices it because when she touched my waist, I flinched. Her eyes darted back to mine and asked, “Are you okay? Do you still want to do this baby?”

I nodded vigorously – as if I can’t control my arousal – and mewled out: “Touch me, bear. Please touch me, I can’t take it…”

She smiled down at me and got in between my legs, watching her as she knelt on the bed with her hands back to my breasts. I loved how she squeezes it gently, her eyes rolling in the back of her head when she tweaked my nipples. Without holding her hunger, she leaned down and sucked on my left nipple – growling underneath her breath. I arched my back as I shrieked with pain and pleasure, but she pushes me back down softly and covers my mouth with her hand. She pulls away with a string of saliva from my breast, and said to me: “You’re gonna have to keep that mouth quiet, okay? I’m sorry baby.”

I nodded yet again and she removed her hands away from my mouth, smiling when my face was all flustered and red. I whispered, “Can you lick me down there, please? I’m sorry–Ah!– I can’t help it…”

Natasha slowly goes back down to my body, her lips trailing painfully good on the skin of my stomach until her lips were now hovering on my bare cunt. I could feel her warm breath on my clit, her panting that felt too animalistic. I looked down at her and caught her eyes on me and she held my hips close. Before I could even muster out a word – she swipes her tongue in the middle of my folds, moaning to create a vibration that electrifies my veins. I flopped my head back on the pillow as I gripped onto the sheets, her tongue devouring my cunt. She moans, but more like a growl since it vibrated choppily as her nails sunk into the flesh of my thighs – making me cover my mouth in order to scream.

“You taste amazing,” she praises, her eyes fluttering with euphoria as she laps on my cunt, sucking both of my folds eagerly. I wrapped my hand around her reddish hair as she continued to eat my core like an expert – which she was. She pulls her mouth away from my folds and spits on it, the tip of her fingers spreading the slimy substance around my folds, then to my hole. She examines that hole of mine, almost smiling to herself when she can see how I’m clenching my hole. Natasha can obviously tell that I wanted to be touched, and without even thinking – the tip of her tongue licks my hole, dragging it.

“Natasha! Oh god,” I mewled loudly as I covered my face with my wet palm from my mouth a while ago, her tongue relentlessly flicking on my hole as she pulls my hips further to hers until practically her face is glued to my cunt. She eats it vigorously, her skilled tongue making circular motions onto my fat nub clit, and whispers: “Your pussy belongs to me, baby girl. Only me, fuck–look how cute this fucking hole is, can’t wait to shove up my fingers up to your cunt.”

I didn’t know that she could be vocally good in bed, how she knew what to say each minute when she couldn’t stop lapping into my cunt. I was honestly impressed. My hips gyrate onto her face while my hand was gripping the pillow beside me, making me hold the orgasm that I’m almost about to reach. Natasha pulled herself up until she was hovering over me instead of my cunt. She leans back down and kisses me, moaning when I could taste myself in her mouth. She spreads my legs once more and brought her fingers back to my cunt, rubbing my sensitive clit gently. She almost whined in disappointment when I pulled away from her lips, my eyes looking back down at the action that she was creating.

“Tell me to stop,” she says, her voice sounding unfamiliar – full of need. “Please baby, tell me to stop. I can’t let myself hurt you once I’m finally inside of you…”

Her voice sounded nervous, but with excitement. I cupped her cheek again and kissed the tip of her nose, knowing how much that caused a big effect on her. I whispered, “Make love to me, Natasha. I promise that you won’t hurt me.”

“Yeah?” she coos, dancing her fingers comfortingly around my waist and kissing my cheek twice. “You gonna let me take you? Be my good girl?”

I love how she called me her good girl. The way it just slips out of her tongue so easily makes my cunt even wetter than before. She leaned down to kiss me as her other arm was holding her body up beside my head.

“Did that taste good?” she asked with a sultry voice. My head nods, still tasting myself from her mouth as I could feel her fingers back to my cunt again, near my small hole. We were both breathing hard when she had two fingers on my slight gaping hole – but not inside yet. She pulls away from my ear and looks down at me, then I could feel her fingers pushing inside of me as Natasha groans in satisfaction; an animalistic groan perhaps. I almost let out a scream when her thick fingers pushed deep inside of me, my hands flung to her back as I held her close – feeling my walls clench hard around her long fingers that were still thrusting inside of me.

“Jesus you’re so tight…” Natasha whispers in a deep voice, her mouth connecting to mine with a whine. I pull away slightly but she shakes her head, her mouth trying to catch mine. “Does that feel good? Want me to stop?”

I never wanted her to stop. In fact, I wanted her to ruin me to the brim. I held her tightly while my nails sank into her back, scratching it as she gave me a hard thrust, curling her fingers to hit that spot that I never knew was there. I nodded and kissed her lips, not knowing what else to do. I whispered with a high-pitched moan, “Please go harder, oh god–I can’t, you feel so good!”

Natasha was practically drooling at the sight of my neediness. She looks down briefly to see her fingers all the way inside me and pulls out – pushing back in again but it was a very hard demanding thrust. She continued at that pace, her eyes set on me as I whined with each of her fingers thrusting inside my not-so-virgin hole, gripping her back tighter. She growls on my face, “I can’t believe I’m taking you right now, though I’d never do it…”

She gropes my right breast for a few seconds and continues to fuck me onto the mattress, hearing her grunt with arousal. I could feel how close I was as the tip of her two fingers were hitting my spot. I shut my eyes, but with the simple command that Natasha gave me – opening them back again.

I was met with her hooded green eyes that spoke with so much determination that I couldn’t figure out. She leans on my right breast and sucks on my nipple while fucking me with her two fingers, my cunt being loose as each thrust produces. I was so lost in the feeling of her fingers when I didn’t know that I was bleeding. And when I saw her fingers being coated with my blood, I pushed her upper stomach and sat up on the headboard; covering both of my hands on my cunt. She looks up at me with worry and places both of her palms on my upper arm.

“Baby–”

“I think I’m on my period,” I started with a whisper and looked away from her eyes. I felt embarrassed that I didn’t know I was on my period when we were having my first time. But I could see at the side of my eye that she was shaking her head, her arms not letting go from my shoulders and pulling me even closer to her – kissing my head to calm me down, because I was trembling when I first saw the blood that came out from my vagina.

“No baby,” she disagrees softly and kisses my lips, surprised that I invited her in. God, her lips are so soft – it felt so subtle and sweet. “That’s not period blood, that’s–It usually happens when it’s your first time.”

Now I feel even more embarrassed. I was just freaking out a minute ago, and now this older woman tells me that it wasn’t even my menstrual blood? I whined in an unsettling way and covered myself with my knees, but Natasha pushed down my legs and lifted my chin up with her fingers. She shakes her head and smiles, then chuckles.

“It’s not funny.” I murmured, rolling my eyes at her as she kept laughing – being fond of my innocence. She then pecks on my lips again and spreads my legs open once more, getting herself in between them and before she could thrust back in, she whispers: “It kind of turns me on when you’re bleeding.”

Now it was my turn to laugh back, but I tilted my head in confusion.

“Why’s that?” I asked softly, more like intimidated when she’s so close to my face. The Russian sighs and pulls my front against hers, possessively bringing her mouth close to my ear, and whispers hungrily: “Because it means that I am really your first.”

It makes me wonder if she has this kink of taking someone’s virginity, although it was inappropriate to even think about that because it could be untrue. But as she fucks me hard on the mattress with three of her fingers buried deep inside me, it shows that she does probably have a kink over that.

With each hard thrust she makes, I was a moaning mess. Her lips were on my neck, lapping her tongue on my purple mark skin as the squelching wet sounds fills up my room, the bed starting to squeak with every hard pump. She pulls away with a snap of her thrust and growls, “You’re mine, Y/N. I don’t want anyone–Fucking hell–to take you or to even look at you, you’re all mine. Promise me that you’re all mine…”

I never knew this side of her, it all felt too possessive and dominating. It didn’t make me uncomfortable though, in fact – it brought me to my orgasm even closer as she whispers the dirtiest words that I’ve ever heard. She probably watches a lot of pornography, or maybe she’s that experienced. Either way, she held me as if protecting me and thrusts hard inside me for one last time before I fell apart underneath her. I screamed into her neck – possibly echoing against the sandstone walls. Natasha looks down at me with a profound face, her fingers still buried deep inside of me yet still thrusting; but slower this time. I flopped my entire back onto the mattress as she went down beside my body, pulling me in until I passed out my head onto her chest.

I woke up in the middle of the night, feeling my chest grow heavier when I saw the sight of Natasha beside me. I looked at the window shutters and saw that the skies are very deep blue, just like the sea. It was probably around five in the morning, everyone was still asleep. I looked back again at her and felt the guilt that was pounding in my chest; begging to be released. Was this a normal feeling after your first time? My friends used to say that it would feel nice but there could be guilt, and this was the guilt that I’m feeling right at this moment. I thought about the people who could know our questionable relationship, what would my mother’s side say if they knew we slept together? What about hers? Would they criticize such an indecent thing?

A whimper started to develop out of my mouth and leaned against the headboard, pulling the thick comforter all the way up to my chest. I didn’t feel uncomfortable after our sexual encounter, but I felt guilty when I realized how incredibly wrong it was. She was practically my mother, my mother’s wife. I was her daughter, a child to be taken care of. But as I and Natasha say that we never saw each other that way, it didn’t really affect me much before. So far.

She flutters her eyes open and looks at her side – noticing that I am awake. She then gives me a tired smile and lifts herself up, wrapping her arms around me like a bear. The redhead beside me kisses the side of my hair softly – until she realizes that I was whimpering quietly and soon enough, her arms were wrapped around my upper body as I flinched at the sudden interaction of our skin. Natasha presses her forehead against my temple and whispers cooingly, “My love, are you alright?”

There was a long pause before I could even answer, her heart breaking as my voice broke.

“This is wrong.”

We sat there for a minute, letting Natasha process the words that came out of my mouth. There was this sense inside of her that it was indeed wrong but, her pride never let it overtake her. She continues to scratch my head in a loving matter, like a cat and kisses my cheek – trying to at least calm me down.

“No baby, it’s not.”

I shook my head in return and whimpered, letting my body mold with hers as I laid my head on her chest – hearing her heart beating fast. It did somehow calm me down a bit, her arms were very much inviting and comfortable; even her heartbeat.

“Do you feel guilty about this?” I looked at her more and saw how utterly heartbroken she was from my whimpers, maybe a sense of regret that plastered on my face that she knew. Then, I could feel her hands cup my cheek and lean down to kiss me, twice. Our foreheads touch perfectly well – it was as if we were made for each other to mend – and I could feel her mouth near mine, saying: “Look at me, baby.”

I choked out a cry and our noses touched – that I could feel my stomach fluttering with joy. But as our conversation deepens, I finally realize that my life will be turned upside down after our interaction. Will it be that bad? I was afraid of criticism, and the disgusted look that people will give us. It was a tough situation, very tough. My family knows that Natasha is my stepmother, possibly her family’s side too. But I don’t always hear from them – which is a little concerning. I never asked her about it, though.

“I’m just scared Natasha,” I tell her, my voice changing into this unpleasant tone. She didn’t notice that though, she never does. Instead – she pulls me closer to her naked body and I could feel her lips pressing against the top of my head; treating me like I’m some fragile kid. “Will they hate us?”

“I can assure you that no one will hurt you here.”

“But how about outside from your family?” I asked, my voice suddenly rising. She looks at me skeptically – as if I wasn’t allowed to raise my voice at her despite her eyebrows scrunching together and her mouth twitching. Was it anger? Or maybe, was it me raising my voice. I felt small and lowered my head down instead.

She kisses my head and repeats with her tone deepens: “I can promise that they will not hurt you, angel. No one will, you’re safe with me.”

Something about her holding me seemed a little different, like it was possessive and controlling. There are no other words left for me to think of other than that adjective and a verb. Possessive and controlling. In other cases, I didn’t mind the way she held me and her lips touching each skin I have. Maybe that was the way of her showing love, maybe just that.

Either way, it felt different. Awfully different.

“I love you, sweet girl,” she says with a tiny whisper and a hoarse voice, making my head lift to see her beautiful smile. And there she was, smiling down at me like I’m the love of her life. “You gonna love me forever too?”

It felt so unpromising but it was Natasha, I might as well love her forever. But it felt too rushed, everything felt rushed. In every aspect of my move, a new chapter keeps coming up and I’m not even done reading the other ones. Maybe this was normal when you’re into someone that is bad and good, it’s probably the way she just smiles at me that felt innocent and surreal – or even compelling. And how gently and clement how she holds my face and my body makes me fall in love with her.

If she was sick as I am, then I might as well agree with that. We were both sick, but is there something that I don’t know about her?

let me know your thoughts! <3

taglist: @sayah13 @lizzieolsen89 @marvelwomen-simp @when-wolves-howl @cmfouatslota77 @riles-is-an-idiot @ygtft-chen @aru-son @karmasgxrl @natszn @d14n4ol @hitthatsnappy @natasharomanoffswifeyyy @simpforolderwomen @fluffypanda1603 @whore4nat @trashbod @katherineromanova @aliancvnas @its-just-geek @blckwidowsbf @raqelacevedo (i’m sorry i can’t tag any of you, it won’t work :( )

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha angst #natasha romanoff x yn #natasha romanoff x fem reader #black widow x reader #black widow x you #cwyd series

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noxsoulmate · 1 year

Text

💞⚾ Noxy’s Tarlos Baseball Fic ⚾💞

💞⚾ now complete ⚾💞

Ship: Tarlos | Fandom: 911 Lone Star | Author: noxsoulmate | Read on ao3

Chapter: 2/2 | Word Count: 10940 | Complete: 16330 | Rating: Explicit | Warnings/Tags: baseball, valentine's day, different first meeting, meet-cute, running into each other, coffee shops, farmers market, night clubs, hook-up, baseball player TK, baseball player Carlos, rivals, Red vs Blue (but not the episode), banter, sexual innuendos, flirting, teasing, basically Tarlos uses the baseball game as foreplay, and they don't hide it, implied sexual content, but TK has a dirty mind so the rating is explicit, making out, strangers to lovers, love at first sight | Art made by me

Summary:

The moment he spots him, he freezes. For just a tiny second, he wonders if all his thoughts of Carlos have summoned him. And then he takes in the man as a whole, attire and all – and his mind goes blank. Because Carlos is wearing a jersey as well. And it’s blue. Carlos is wearing the blue jersey… of APD.

~*~

Meet cutes are only meant for rom coms, right? So why is it that TK has a total of four of them with the same stranger in just one day? Besides, Valentine’s weekend is certainly not the right time for him to have his head in cloud nine – not when the annual Baseball game between Fire and Police is on the line. Apparently, Police hasn't lost in years thanks to their pitcher. But now Fire has TK on their team – a paramedic who had a chance to play in the major leagues...

💞⚾ Chapter 1 ⚾💞

💞⚾ Read Chapter 2 on ao3 ⚾💞

Sneak peek under the cut:

“TK, can you tone down that grin a little bit?”

“Why?” TK asks, his grin turning cheeky instead. “Isn’t this supposed to be a fun day anyway?”

“Ah, hell na?” he hears Judd as he comes up right next to them. “This ain’t no fun. This is serious business.”

“Besides,” Paul throws in, baseball bat across his shoulders as if he’s stretching his arms. “We all know that grin isn’t because of the game ahead of us. It’s about that mystery man you disappeared with last night. Don’t deny it.”

“Not denying it at all,” TK replies, smile stretching even wider. “So I had a great night – wasn’t that exactly why you took me out?”

“Yeah, we just didn’t expect it to go that well,” Marjan says, pointing at what he guesses is his sunny smile.

Even though Marjan’s not on the team, she’s still dressed in the red-and-black combo of the fire department and sitting on the bench with them. She’s their unofficial social media expert, meaning she’ll film the game and then put some great highlights of it online later. Hopefully she’ll be able to post about a win for Fire.

According to Judd – and the rest of the team – they really need this win because their losing streak is a disgrace to their department. TK didn’t pay it much mind before but now that he’s seeing the stands fill with a large crowd, he starts to understand that it’s not just about Police versus Fire. It’s about community. He was skeptical when Judd said the annual match between Fire and Police is a highlight in Travis County, rallying crowds of hundreds, but now he’s a witness. Hell, there’s even a news van and people with homemade signs. Fire definitely needs to bring home the trophy this year.

“Yes, TK,” Nancy thankfully pulls TK out of his thoughts before he can overthink this. He’ll simply play his best game, no need to worry. “Tell us how it went? We didn’t see much of the guy but from what we saw, he was hot as fuck.”

“Oh, he definitely is,” TK agrees, his smile instantly back and all the worries in the world gone.

“Anyone else worried we’ll have to see that grin for a whole while longer?” Paul asks the group, who all agree.

TK rolls his eyes. “So what, I met a dude that might just be the absolute jackpot. Aren’t you happy for me?”

“TK,” Judd starts in his slow southern drawl, one of his big hands landing on his shoulder. “From what I hear, you just met the guy and what? Had one good night with him? You’re running around like you’re on cloud nine. Brother, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you, I just think you should be careful too. Do we need to check him out?”

While TK’s truly touched by Judd’s genuine desire to protect him, he still gives him an impish grin. “Well, for one, how long did it take you to know that Grace might be the one and definitely worth chasing?”

“Ahh, but I knew her from months on the phone.”

TK gives him a mock-shocked look. “So you’re saying, if you had just met her at the honky tonk without your history, you wouldn’t have thought her worth your time?”

Judd looks almost comically shocked and pained before he lifts his hands in surrender and quickly amends, “Touché.”

“And besides,” TK starts, finally feeling ready to drop the bomb. “Last night wasn’t the first I saw of him…”

💞⚾ Continue on ao3 ⚾💞

Written for the @tarlosweeklyprompts Valentine's Fic Exchange and my giftee @sugdenlovesdingle. The prompt was: TK and Carlos meeting via the police vs fire baseball game when they’re on opposing teams (bonus points for a grey’s anatomy-like thing where they hook up the night before without knowing who the other is and then seeing them at the game).

The biggest, biggest thanks goes out to the amazing @lightningboltreader and @bonheur-cafe. These two spent the past few weeks explaining an American game that seems to have no rules to a European who had zero knowledge about it - and they did it in a way that said European was able to write a fic about it. I bow to you two! They also helped plot out every step of the game - Char, Dalawa, this fic truly wouldn't exist without your help, and for once, that's not just a phrase 😂

Noxy’s Tagging List: @chaotictarlos, @detective-giggles, @sgirl18, @sapphire11, @bubblesandroses8, @firstprince-history-huh, @beautifulhigh, @rangergurlgleek1211, @shadesofdeviant, @otter-love-asl, @ramblingdisaster73, @first-kanaphan, @xtltokio, @lightningboltreader, @buckybarnesalways, @meditating-honey-badger, @mangacat201, @tarlossource

#tarlos #tarlos fanfic #911 lone star #noxy writes #tk strand #carlos reyes #fire vs police baseball #tarlos meet cute fic #meet cute #teasing #banter #flirting #flirty banter #tarlos uses the baseball game as foreplay #tarlosweeklyprompts #valentine's fic exchange

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noforkingclue · 8 months

Text

By Any Means Chapter 16 (Malcolm Bright x reader)

Prodigal Son tag list: @queenoffandom08, @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

“I still can’t believe that Gil agreed to this?” you said, “What did you say to him that persuaded him?”

“Oh, just the truth.” Said Malcolm

“Which is?”

“My father won’t let this go until we see him.”

“Ah.”

You shifted uncomfortably as you looked around the prison. You knew that it wasn’t your regular prison but it still made you uneasy. Your position with the NYPD was still fragile and you knew that one false move would end up with you behind bars. Despite having Malcolm on your side (at least you hoped so) you couldn’t rely on anything.

Your breath hitch as you felt fingers graze against your own. You pulled your hand back sharply and gave Malcolm a wide eyed stare. Malcolm’s face fell for a second before he said,

“Sorry. That was… I was…”

“Yeah,” you muttered looking away, your cheeks hot, “I guessed.”

The two of you walked in awkward silence as you got closer and closer to the cell that held Malcolm’s father. You swallowed thickly as you stood in front of it and when Malcolm took your hand you didn’t shake it off. He gave it a reassuring squeeze which you returned. You had a feeling that he needed this much more than you ever would.

“Malcolm, my boy, how nice of you to visit! And how nice is for you to bring your friend.”

Your cheeks burned at the inflection on the word ‘friend’ and it was then you realised that your hand was still linked with Malcom’s. Martin’s gaze flicked to them and you quickly let go. He took a step towards you and you instinctively took a step back. You didn’t want to be any closer to him then was strictly necessary. You weren’t about to step over that line.

“My dear,” said Martin, “There’s no need to be so nervous. As you can see, I am unable to hurt you.”

“Don’t call me that, Mr Whitly.” You said

“Doctor,” he corrected, “And please, call me Martin. I must admit I am hurt that it’s taken Malcolm so long to introduce you to me, although I can also understand why. You’ve met Malcolm’s mother.”

“It’s not like that.” Malcolm said softly

“No? Jessica and I were exactly the same when we first started courting.”

“Courting,” you looked at Malcolm who looked like he wanted to ground to swallow him whole, “who even uses the word courting.”

“My apologises,” said Martin, “dating then. Is that the correct term?”

“Father,” Malcolm said sternly, “we’re not dating. We’re just…”

He trailed off and glanced over at you.

“Colleagues?” you said

“Friends?” Malcolm said at the same time

“Hmm,” Martin’s smirked widened at yours and Malcolm’s embarrassment, “Of course, my boy, you know your own feelings better. Now,” he moved to sit down and steepled his fingers, “Why don’t you update me on this case of yours. It’s a fascinating little puzzle.”

“You told him?” you asked Malcolm, shocked

“Not everything,” Malcolm said, not meeting your eyes, “But I thought we could use some… expert help.”

“It takes a serial killer to catch a serial killer. Very ‘Silence of the Lambs’.” You said dryly

Malcolm gave you a half smile as he stepped over the line. He looked back at you but you just folded your arms and leant against the wall. You said that you were going to meet his father but you didn’t have to get close to him.

“So,” Martin clapped his hands and smiled at the two of you, “You finally figured out that your girl- sorry- you colleague/friend’s life is in danger.”

You bristled at the sentence but didn’t say anything. Malcolm just ran a hand over his face and said,

“Yes. Y/n doesn’t think that there’s anything to worry about. I’m not too sure.”

“Y/n,” Martin said slowly, “what a lovely name. I am afraid that Malcolm is correct, there is a threat to your life. Now,” he gave you a bright smile that was probably meant to be charming but just sent chills down your spine, “this is going to be a difficult conversation. It would be much easier if you were to come a bit closer.”

Your eyes flicked to Malcolm who gave you a soft, reassuring smile. You took a deep breath and stepped over the line. Martin’s smile widened and he said,

“Good. Now then, let’s begin.”

#fanfiction #prodigal son #reader insert #malcolm bright #malcolm bright x reader #malcolm whitly #malcolm whitly x reader

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the1975attheirverybest · 1 year

Note

How do you think matty would help his girl if she has a ED? Like notices suddenly how much she just doesn’t eat enough?

I’ve tagged this w a trigger warning but I’m gonna add another one up here just in case.

WARNING: Mentions of ED. disordered eating. Please read with caution.

I think it might depend on whether or not they’ve had the conversation before, the stage of their relationship, and how comfortable she is with him talking to her about it.

So, like, if he already knows / she’s already confided in him about her struggle, he wouldn’t hesitate to look after her. Whatever the plan she’s on is. I actually have a very close friend who’s struggled for years. It’s a long story but it’s very personal to me and I think it’s important to support people with EDs without judgement. I know that managing it looks different for everyone. But, let’s say for her, she normally has a schedule she sticks to. Like she does best when she knows it’s time for lunch and just does it. Or has a scheduled time for a snack through the day. So, Matty has kind of gotten used to it and maybe even helps her plan for it and checks in with her “going to the store. Can I get you anything? Something you can keep on hand for your snack time this week?” His not so subtle way to ensure she does eat like she’s meant to.

But then maybe one week, perhaps he’s been at the studio a lot lately which is why it’s been easier for her to slip up without him noticing, or maybe he’s just coming back from tour. He checks and sees that she hasn’t bothered to restock her little snack corner. Or maybe realizes that there’s not been anything in the fridge to indicate that she’s been eating / making much.

I think he’d wanna confront her about it, but really gently. Like maybe he sits her down one day “I wanna talk to you about something but I’m not sure if I’m supposed to….we can end this conversation if I’m doing it wrong. I really should’ve… maybe asked an expert before but anyway. It’s about food. Do I have your permission to bring it up?”

She immediately knows where this is going and she wants to say no. She knows that if she declined, he would totally respect it but he might start to worry in silence. Plus, she doesn’t really wanna say no cuz she’s afraid of being triggered. It’s more that she doesn’t want to have to deal with accountability. So, eventually, she says yes.

“Please tell me if I’m out of line, but…honey, I don’t think you’ve been eating much have you?”

She doesn’t say anything which tells him what he needs to know

“Can I….help somehow? Eat with you? Make you something? If you need to speak to your therapist or doctor, I can go with you. If you don’t want me going in, I’ll wait in the car. I’d you’d rather I come in and hold your hand, I will do it in a heartbeat.”

He can see her being uncomfortable and emotional which makes him unsure and emotional but he pushes through. “I know I’m not exactly the authority on this but I just know what you’re doing is threatening to your recovery. And….I can’t claim to love you and then sit by and watch you do this without doing something about it. Please tell me how I can help?”

Maybe he even tells her that with his own addiction recovery, he finds that when he does small things and begins to draw himself away from others, it usually leads to bigger lies and he has to be careful about it and seek help before he does something he’ll regret. “I know it’s not exactly the same thing, but….I guess im saying I’m my own kind of fucked up and I know how you feel. So, let me help please?”

#matty concepts #tw ed #tw: ed

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narastories · 5 months

Note

Hi Nara, I hope you had a good day!

For Fanfic Writer Friday, do you want to tell me what you're working on (if you are on something currently)?

And if you've got time, I'd love to hear your opinion about the use of the past or present tense in fanfic, because it always gives me so much trouble. I don't really have a logic for using one or the other, so I'd like to know yours.

Thank you <3

Hi! Yes, thank you, I had a great day <3

Ooh, these are two very interesting questions.

I'm sort of working on something... By working, I mean writing notes in my notebook and trying to figure out how to tackle this idea ^^" I really want to write a Dresden Files/FPA crossover! (Let's see if by announcing it publicly I can successfully shame me into going through with it... I doubt it, but we'll try it...)

I've never actually written a crossover, so that's already a bit daunting. Having to juggle twice as many characters/ships as I would normally is also a challenge... Currently, I'm trying to decide what POV/s to use, and how not to make this too long. But I think it would be fun to draw some parallels between the characters, and it would also be fun to bring two of the fandoms I like together like this.

Another, perhaps silly consideration is that I now have 99 fics on AO3... To make the 100th one a little bit special would be cool. (Okay, that might not happen because I have already uploaded my Yuletide fic, and I'm not actually sure where AO3 will put it in the order of fics once the authors are revealed on Jan 1st...)

Anyway, wish me luck, I can tell you that Philes would very much be on the menu ;) 2.

You're asking me this because of the tags on my last fic, right? xD

Oh dear, where do I even start? I actually wouldn't say I have a well-developed opinion on this. And I think maybe it's better if we split it into two categories: what I think of past/present tense, and how I would decide what to use.

Just from vibes alone, I would say past tense is very comfy. It sort of "disappears" because we're so used to it. No one will be turned off by you using the past tense. You can do anything with it.

Present tense, on the other hand, feels a bit more intimate to me. It can work well for a more poetic tone. It has an urgency to it like you don't know what's going to happen. But it will also very much turn some people off ^^"

I will also add that if I'm talking about multiple layers of past events, the English past tenses can give me a bit of a hard time, so using the present tense can gloriously simplify that lol

I do like reading either btw, but how do I decide what to use when writing?

I use past tense 99% of the time. (I mean, literally. I think I have 98 fics written in the past tense, wrote one in present, and I'm pretty sure the next one will be in the past tense as well lol) So I’m no expert here, although I do have some WIPs where I also used present tense and I would totally consider experimenting with it more.

To be honest, there is only one scenario where I would opt for the present tense always, and it’s the 2nd person "you" fics... Dare I say: *whispers* reader-insert. Which is a whole different can of worms altogether that we are now opening.

Personally, in my opinion, if you think old forum role playing was cool but you think self-insert fic is cringe, that’s a *skill issue*. Luckily, I have mastered my destiny and overcame feelings of cringe lmao (I'm joking, you only read what you want, of course.)

What I mean is, I find it very charming how self-insert or reader-insert fic specifically about RPG games kind of circles back around to the roots of the “role-playing” in RPG. I might not read certain types of reader-insert fics, but I think they have their rightful place in fandom.

Now, getting back to the topic of present tense lol To me, sometimes certain things will just fit better for a fic. For example, when I started writing my first Dresden Files fic, I started writing it in 3rd person, because 1st person felt intimidating. But the canon is in 1st person, and something in me knew that it just had to be done that way for the right tone, you know? (It doesn’t mean you have to stick to the way canon is written, of course. It’s more about what fits better with the mood you are going for and what effect you want to achieve.)

Same thing with my last fic: the fandom I wrote it for uses present tense and uses 2nd person for the main character. Yeah, sure you can write an OC and write 3rd person, but the right vibe I was going for was begging me to use the present tense. So yeah, in a sense it was me wanting to stick more with the canon vibe, even if that challenged me. Which is interesting because usually it’s the other way around, no?

That is a really long way of saying I tend to stick to what is closes to canon. But I think you should always listen to your gut and just write how you like it better.

Thank you for the thought-provoking questions and sorry for the long ramble.

#fanfic writer friday #tumblr ask

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airiat · 10 months

Text

northern sky, six. ✧˚ · .

{masterlist | beginning}

pairing: joel miller x you / f!reader (wc: 35.3k, 10 chapters)

rating: explicit, 18+

work tags: no outbreak, age difference (27/42), hurt/comfort, ptsd, fate, ldr, explicit sexual content (rough/romantic sex, light d/s & sadomasochism, dirty talk, choking/biting, oral (f & m receiving), unprotected piv, aftercare)

work warnings: themes of death (more details here, contains spoilers), depictions of mental illness/alcoholism, light discussion of theoretical relationship with minor (not condoned by either party), light blood kink

ch. summary: he'll never let you fall.

{ao3}

six. {2.1k}

Your laugh is a bright thing in the heavy steam of the bathroom shower, where you freshen up together before your date. Your date. Joel’s just told you that if you make him listen to Kelly Clarkson for even a second longer, he’ll start singing along. And you don’t want that. Apparently. You think that you actually might want to witness that spectacle.

“Well, how do ya know the words, huh?” you question, rubbing your neck with a washcloth. “I bet you’re a secret fan.”

Joel pauses with his hands on his face mid-scrub, gives you a look like a soldier who’s seen war. “Sarah’s first breakup. Swear I didn’t hear a single other song for a week straight.”

The acoustics of the shower seduce you. You grin at him, sing, “‘Time cast a spell on you / but you won't forget me / I know I could've loved you / but you would not let me.’” Just like you would have in the bowels of your angst. “That was mine,” you say.

He tilts his head at you, squinting through the water. “Hey, you’re not half bad.”

“‘Half bad,’” you scoff. “You some kinda, like, singing expert?”

“I used to wanna be a, uh, country singer, actually,” Joel tells you, suddenly very preoccupied with achieving the perfect amount of shampoo. He still squirts out too much.

“Really?” you ask, eager surprise in your voice. The thought of it is captivating. Decidedly alluring. Him up on a stage, crooning with a guitar at his hip. Yes. “Sing something, then.”

“Play a song I actually like, and then we’ll see,” he shoots back.

You laugh, reach out of the shower curtain to your iPod in its dock on the counter. When you click the button for the next song, one certainly plays: something sultry and spellbinding, a beat that perfects the rhythm for–

Large hands grip your hips, pulling you back against the hot wet of his body. “Nothin’ about this song meant for singing.”

You gulp, feel your face flush. It was on shuffle. You couldn’t have known it’d be this song…For one, for someone / for he, for she. You wouldn’t have picked it. It’s too brazen. But Joel brings you closer, and you feel him already hard. And then the flush travels downward, has you tipping your head back on his shoulder.

“Been so worried about bad music and my goddamn hair that I didn’t even think of what I could do with you standin’ here naked,” he says in a low voice that cuts the cascade of water. “Fool I am.”

“Fool you are,” you echo, eyes fluttering.

One hand stays at your hip, the other travels to stroke the column of your throat. “Now, how am I gonna make it up to you, darlin’, hm?”

You suck in a sharp breath as he palms a breast, pinches your nipple between two fingers. “Any way you want,” you rasp.

“Nuh-uh, you’re gonna use your words, ain’t you, baby?”

“You can make it up—” you moan softly as his hand moves to the dip in your stomach “—by…you can just fuck me, Joel.”

“Just like that?”

You nod against his shoulder. “Please.”

Joel groans and kisses you open-mouthed on your jaw.

Then, he wraps an arm over your waist and helps you bend over, leaves his other hand to guide your hips to where he can push into you. You’re pulled to your tiptoes, back melded into his chest. “I’m not gonna let you fall,” he murmurs into your ear.

And you’re certain that you could drop your body into the cradle of his one arm, and he wouldn’t even flinch. Because when he enters you, you gasp, fall slack against him, and he’s as solid as stone. You press your hands against the wet tile of the wall, but it’s only there for you to claw at, to give your animal someplace to go.

Joel’s hips snap behind yours, not rough, but still crude, like his mind was sliced from his body, knows only how it all feels. You like him this way, if the melody of your moans is any indication. What feels the best for him is what makes your blood sing. Your body, boneless and pliant, reaches out for the resolution,

only to have it snatched away.

You keen brokenly as he rips himself from you, grabbing blindly backward to keep him from moving away. But he’s already gone, already releasing you from his arms, and you’re scrambling for the tiles on the wall to keep from falling now. You’re ready to crack against porcelain, lost in the spray of hot water, but then he’s in front of you, holding you steady, letting you go slack against him once more.

“Joel,” you gasp, squeezing your eyes closed. “You were gonna let–let me–”

“I wasn’t, I promise, baby. I just needed to get out of you quick,” he soothes, holding his hand to the waterfall of your hair. “Had you the whole time.”

Your breath comes in short pulls, but nothing tells you not to believe him. You didn’t fall. You’re here in his arms, so you blink your eyes open and look up at him. “I wish–I wish you didn’t stop. It felt good, y’know, before,” you tell him.

Joel kisses you, leans his forehead against yours. “Can I make you come, darlin’? Make you feel even better?”

The mellow but still heavy opening guitar of the next song drowns out your sharp inhale, so you nod instead. He takes a small step back, sinks to his knees, lets his hands slide down your body until he’s lifting your foot up and setting it on the tub's edge. The muscles in your stomach tighten when you realize what’s coming, have you reaching for him and bracing yourself all at once.

He gazes up at you from your feet, grips you firmly by the back of your thigh. In the small space of the bathtub, he has to fold down his large frame, which makes him appear not lowly, but devoted. That he would crush himself, bend himself in such an uncomfortable way if only just for you.

I'll sing for you / If you want me to / I'll give to you / And it's a chance I'll have to take.

You’re so dizzy with the thought, with the music, that you barely hear him say, “You’re gonna have to help yourself some. Can you handle that, baby?”

You bite your lip and shove your arm into the recess of the small window in the shower, lean some of your weight onto it.

“Good girl,” you think Joel says, but it comes out as more of an indistinct rumble against your skin as he dips between your legs, licks a short stripe in the crease of your thigh. You choke and almost fold forward but manage to hold yourself upright. It was a test. He didn’t even hardly touch you, and you were ready to crumple to the floor. He’s paused, waiting for you to settle.

“I can do this, Joel,” you say in the strongest voice you can muster.

His only response is to softly drag his tongue down your center, to grab your thigh so tight that it aches. But if it’s meant to be a reminder, it works; the jolt of your body does not send you sprawling to the floor. You just grit your teeth through a moan, thread fingers into his hair, and hold yourself together.

And if it is a test, you’ve passed this one, too. Because the next flicks of his tongue over you are bold and unforgiving, mouth buried between your folds, lips closed over your bud. You would hold yourself as still as stone, refuse to even breathe, if you could only just have him like this forever, and then forever again. In fact, you probably wouldn’t be breathing if you didn’t need to make all the noises he pulls from you. Probably wouldn’t be moving if your traitorous body didn’t seize as lightning appears curled at the base of your spine, if you didn’t rock your hips over his mouth to pull it taut.

Joel does attempt to hold you still with hands clenched around the soft flesh of your ass, but you fight him for movement, and he gives in easily. Maybe his hands are there more for himself than for you. Maybe it’s all just a little bit more for himself. Those starved moans that ricochet deep in your core. The arcs his tongue makes to taste every inch you present to him. You are just the fortunate vessel being offered up for consumption.

It doesn’t take you very much longer once you’ve harnessed that truth, understood that he will let you do anything except tear yourself away from him. You can pull his hair from its roots, grind yourself against his face and not worry about air. You are his air. It doesn’t take you very much longer, and then you’re there. The water from the shower pours over you as you stretch back and let the lightning crackle up your spine, fills your mouth as you gasp, and then break forward.

You don’t fall so much as you simply become a boneless collection of limbs that cannot remain standing. It doesn’t hurt because Joel helps you, sits behind you, and arranges you between his legs in the tub. When he pushes the plunger to fill it, you blink and give your head a little shake. “Oh, how did I–?” you inquire, craning your neck to look back at him.

You catch a quick smile before he leans forward and kisses your shoulder. “Told you I gotcha.”

“Yeah, you did,” you sigh softly, leaning back into him. “That was good, Joel.”

“Yeah? Good,” he replies, wrapping his arms loosely around your middle. “We should finish up; gonna run out of hot water.”

“My hair,” you groan. “I never washed it.”

“Lemme do it. Which bottle is it?”

You reach for the shampoo, the same one he had used, and hand it to him. You tell yourself that you won’t micromanage how he does it. You’re just going to allow yourself to be cared for. Pulling your knees to your chest, resting your head on top of them, you surrender.

Actually, he’s not so bad at it. He works the shampoo through your scalp, fingers massaging it in. Spends a little too much time on the ends, maybe, but he makes it feel so nice that you can’t even care. Your eyes fall closed, and you give a quiet hum of contentment.

After a few minutes, you feel him leave you very briefly, hear the water splash as he stands, and then returns. Warm water from the shower head pours over your head and down your back as he rinses your hair clean, cards through it so gently your chest clenches. You can’t even remember the other steps you’d usually do, the other products you’d use. You don’t care. Cheap bar soap would be enough if you could have his hands with it.

The water leaves you, and then he pushes your hair aside to rub your back for a moment. “I think that’s about it,” Joel says, uncertain.

“Thank you,” you tell him softly.

He helps you to your feet, then shuts the water off. You step out of the tub together, and he finds a towel for himself, another to drape around you. Like this, you feel so soft and small, as though your skin is made of roses. But he hasn’t made you helpless. It’s only just that he’s eased some of the heaviness from you. Even so, you find yourself reaching back out for it. You know how to walk the world with hunched shoulders, not squared ones.

“I’m gonna finish getting ready on my own, okay?” you tell him. “I won’t be long. You can just go watch TV or something if you want.”

He’s tucking the towel around his hips when he says, “Alright, darlin’. Come find me when you’re done.” He strokes your cheek with his thumb, then walks from the bathroom.

In the solitude, underneath the warm lights, you stare into the mirror with empty eyes framed by the wet strings of your hair. Watch yourself pick up your life’s weight from the dewy counter and settle it back around your shoulders. Your mantle to bear. Always. With or without him.

With a heavy sigh, you reach for a bottle of leave-in conditioner and pour too much of it into your hand.

#i posted this late but fwiw it's always on time on ao3 #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #my posts #my writing #sun & sky

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