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souliebird · 8 months

Text

[[and then I met you || ch. 2]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1

words: 6.3k

tag list:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen

"Mommy, look!"

Minnie calls out from the living room and you look up from finishing up an invoice. She is plopped on the ground, surrounded by a sea of crayons, proudly holding up her latest masterpiece: a series of different colored overlapping circles. You, as usual, have no idea what you are supposed to be looking at, but that doesn't stop the support you give your daughter.

"That's so good, Mouse. You picked such pretty colors." She beams at you and you return the smile, your heart feeling so full. You love her so much and you want only the best for her and you hope - pray - bringing her father into her life is the right choice.

Your meeting with Matt went so much better than you ever thought it could go. He wants to be in Minnie's life and that makes you nervously excited. You have absolutely no inkling of how things are going to change moving forward, and a huge part of you is terrified but another part can't wait for Minnie and Matt to get to know each other. You keep going over your admittedly short conversation trying to remember all the little tics you saw that reminded you of Minnie. You want to know what else she inherited from him.

You tell yourself those thoughts are for later and force them away so you can get back to work. It is getting close to bedtime and you have a few things to tidy up before you can clock out.

Luckily, Minnie has gone back to her drawing, scribbling away while Scooby Doo plays silently on the television and you are able to work in peace. Ten minutes later, you close out your VPN and leisurely stretch out in your chair, watching your little angel do her thing.

You are worried about her reactions to the change. Unfortunately, one of the things she got from you is your anxiety - your little one's nickname is Mouse for a reason. She is a quiet timid little thing who loves to watch and observe - like a little church mouse. You joke you need to put a bell on her because she can walk right by you without making a single noise. Her quiet nature doesn't mesh well with strangers.

You've been taking her to daycare more, hoping socializing will help, and it has, but that is worth other kids. You don't know how she'll react to a new adult in her life who she would have a more casual relationship with. You have no family and the few friends you have have known her since she was a baby.

Minnie knows what a dad is but she's never asked where hers is and you certainly haven’t brought it up to her.

But now you have to.

You need to figure out what the best approach would be. You know it has to be slow and steady, but you don't know if you should introduce Matt to her as her father or not. The biggest change she's been through is going to daycare and that took ages. She hated it.

She hates being around strangers for extended periods.

Out and about? She is okay. She's shy and likes to hide behind your leg instead of talking to people, but she doesn't complain.

But when she has to sit and interact with someone new? She can get fussy. It's not just her being shy, she gets physically uncomfortable.

She has no problems if it's just the two of you or someone she knows, but strangers? It can turn into a tantrum, depending on her mood.

You've discovered a few methods to make her more comfortable. You have about fifteen pairs of child sized noise canceling headphones, your bag is full of little things to distract her, and she has her Pig.

You think introducing her to Matt where she can sit and color and block him out if she wants is the best course of action and to achieve that, you don't think you can tell her the truth right away. She might feel some pressure to Behave because Dad is an authority figure. Not to mention what she would feel if she started asking questions; like why he hasn’t been around.

She's curious but she's also three and unpredictable.

She could immediately go into tantrum mode.

She could not care at all and want to color instead.

You hope Matt understands all of this and doesn't want to jump right into being a Father.

Whatever that entails.

A change in colors and tones on the television catches your attention and you push yourself away from your desk.

"Okay, sweetie, Scooby is over, time to get ready for bed."

Minnie finishes her scribble then drops the crayon on the ground. You wait as she climbs up into her feet and starts to pick up her mess - her crayons go into a pail one at a time. You don't know what goes on in her mind, but as long as she's doing what she is supposed to be, you don't rush her.

There's no lollygagging with your sweet girl, anyways. Once the crayons are in their bucket, she puts that under the coffee table, then picks up her drawing pad and brings it to you. You scoop her up and start towards the bedroom, as she admires her drawings.

"What do you want to read tonight?" You ask.

"Spot!" is the instant reply and you should have guessed that. You've been reading the same book for over a week now, but you don't mind. You'd rather read the same thing over and over than hunt for something she does want to read for an hour.

Getting ready for bed is something that usually goes smoothly and you are lucky tonight is no different. Minnie is already in her pajamas, so it's just turning down the sheets and getting her all tucked in before you start to read. You keep an eye on the time as you do - you have a half hour before Matt said he would call.

If he does call.

He said he would and you are trying to be hopeful that he will. You've been disappointed so many times in the past - not just by lovers but everyone. People promise to call, to text, to follow up and they never do. They say you can do something together then cancel at the last minute. You are used to that disappointment, but you don't want Minnie to experience that. You want her to feel loved and wanted.

You know it's not fair to Matt, but to you the call is a sort of test he doesn't know he is taking.

Will he call? Will he call on time?

The more you think about the call, the more anxious you get. There's too many thoughts starting to gather.

The meeting could have been a fluke and now that he's thought it over, he doesn't want to be a dad.

Or he wants to be a dad but not with You. What if you are the problem?

"Mommy," Minnie shakes you out of your thoughts, looking up at you with big brown eyes. "Next page!"

You nod and force your focus back to the book, turning the next page and letting your daughter open and close all the flaps that hide different elements to the story while you read. It's hard to get lost in the simple words and story, but Minnie is used to her routine and by the time you reach the last page, she's leaning heavier into your side.

You place the book on her nightstand, trading it for her sleep headband. She tilts her head forward and you help get the band on and snuggly over her ears.

"How's that feel, Mouse?"

"Quiet," Minnie replies, like she does every night, sliding down under her blankets. Her little hands tug at the band so the sleep mask part is over her eyes. You smile, forever grateful your little one likes to sleep. You wait while she settles, then kiss both of her cheeks.

"Sweet dreams, my little angel."

"Sweet dreams, Mommy," she replies, voice full of sleep. You triple check she's tucked in nice and snug and that Pig is within reach, then turn off the light. You leave the door open a crack, just in case, then return to the living room.

There's a small mess leftover from dinner and you start cleaning that up. Usually, after you put Minnie down for bed, you'd enjoy a few hours of television or catching up on whatever you needed to, but after finishing the dishes, you don't know what to do.

There's only a handful of minutes until the promised call time and all you can do is just stand in the kitchen. You debate going to get a notebook so you can keep notes, but you don't want to have the whole conversation about how you want to move forward over the phone. Maybe you jot down ideas of what you two want to cover in person? Matt might have questions you haven't even thought of yet.

You should find a pen and paper. It's better to be prepared than not. You tell yourself that but you still don't move. You just stare at your phone.

As the seconds creep by your throat starts to get tight.

What are you going to do if he doesn't call?

Would it be awkward to call him instead? Or is that overbearing? You don't want to come off as overbearing - that might make Matt view you in a negative light and that would definitely have consequences in his relationship with Minnie. You desperately want that relationship to be good and not be influenced by any issues the two of you might have. You would hate yourself if the reason Matt didn't want to be around Minnie was you.

The thought makes your stomach twist.

You're definitely not going to call him tonight if he doesn't call you. You can send a text in the morning - something with no pressure.

But he said he preferred calls instead of text.

Would a call be accusatory? You feel like a morning call would be accusatory.

You can push it to the afternoon, that would give him time to call in the morning, as well.

You're ripped from your paranoid thoughts as your phone screen lights up with Matt's name. Shock overtakes your system and it takes a moment before you scramble to answer.

You state your name as your greeting, totally trying to pretend you weren't just spiraling.

"Hey, it's Matt.. Matt Murdock."

His words are soft spoken, on the edge of shy, and it throws you. You understand why his nerves would be rattled but you didn't think he'd advertise that. Your brain screams at you to comfort him and you focus on that instead of your own panic.

"Hey…um, how are you doing?"

Matt chuckles into your ear, low and throaty, making the knot your stomach has become loosen a bit, "Adjusting." He pauses a beat, then adds, "I can't stop thinking about you and Winifred…Minnie."

Your cheeks burn.

You can't tell him you haven't stopped thinking about him either - that feels like a very weird thing to admit, even if it is the truth.

You don't know what to say, so your mouth decides for you, blurting out, "I didn't think you'd call…"

"You didn't…?" The undercurrent of hurt in his voice makes you feel like you've kicked a puppy. You quickly backtrack.

"I have a tendency to overthink and get in my head," you say, hoping you aren't coming off like an idiot. "I worked myself up."

You turn your back to the kitchen counter, then slide down the cabinets until you are sitting on the ground. You bring your knees up, using them to prop up your elbows.

"I'm glad you did call," you admit, asking your mind to please stop, "I'm sorry, this is awkward, can we start over?"

"Of course," Matt's voice is soft in your ear, but you can hear him smiling, "Should I hang up and call back?"

"No, no, not that far back," you practically mumble, biting your lip. "How about…was your meeting okay? Can I ask that or is it attorney - client privilege?"

Matt hums, sounding like he's thinking over the answer, before answering, "No, that's not covered. It was pretty standard for that client - whether that means it went okay is up for interpretation. No one is in jail, so I would consider it a win."

You aren't sure what that means, but you want to be supportive. "That sounds like a win."

"What about you, how was your evening?"

The question makes you laugh a little, only because you think you live a very boring life, "Very quiet and calm. No one ended up in jail on this end either."

"So not a family of trouble makers?" Matt asks, a slight tease in his voice.

You smile into your knees, replying with a shy, "No, I'm afraid we're rather boring. I hope that is okay."

"I think it's a win."

Oh, you forgot how charming he was.

He carries on, voice dropping back to a softer tone, "What does a quiet and calm night mean for the two of you?"

You consider the question with a little smile before answering, "We usually start with a nice walk to the park. Minnie likes to play in the afternoon, there's less kids to hog the see-saw."

"She likes the see-saw?"

"She loves the see-saw," you say, smiling at the memory of your daughter on the playground. "She likes to…bounce? The see-saw lets her go high. She's too small for bounce houses, so she gets her fix where she can." Matt huffs a laugh into your ear and you continue on, "After the park, it's standard toddler afternoon stuff. Dinner and a bath. Playtime and television before bed. I work from home, so I usually get a few hours in before Minnie gets put down for bed. Then, um, more work for me. Or paying bills. Online shopping. Adult things I can do from the couch."

"You work from home?" Matt asks and you can't remember if you had previously mentioned that. Your whole previous conversation is now suddenly a total question mark.

"Yeah, um, I work in billing. The company is in international shipping, so time zones aren't really an issue. As long as I log forty hours a week, I can break it up as I want. It makes being a working mom a lot easier." You nibble your lip, unsure about what to really say, so you say the obvious, "You have your own law firm?"

"I do. You met my partners earlier, Foggy and Karen," he sounds proud, just a little bit, and that warms your heart.

"I read about a few of your cases last night," you admit, "The papers said you help a lot of people."

Matt doesn't respond right away, but when he does, you find yourself smiling more. "We try to. People here are getting by paycheck to paycheck, they can't afford a lawyer when their landlords try to push them out so they can get someone in to pay higher rent. They need someone to fight for them, and this is our community - Foggy and I grew up here. This is our city." He pauses and you can picture him scrunching up his brow, "You said you saw the interview last night. You had time to read over our cases?"

Embarrassment courses through you.

"Only what was in the news and I didn't read in depth. I just…" You shrug, even though you are talking over the phone, "I wanted to make sure it was in Minnie's best interest to reach out." You bite your lip again then, wanting to be honest with Matt, you add, "I mean, we only spent one night together and we didn't really discuss…much. I knew you were a lawyer, but you could have been like…a lawyer for some awful celebrity or something. If you were out there and the papers were saying you were vile I wouldn't have just…shown up at your doorstep. Metaphorically. I only have your work address."

"That makes sense," Matt replies and you have the feeling he really does get it, "you want to keep her safe, to keep both of you safe. I'd do the same in your position. Actually…I guess I do need to do the same, because we don't really know anything about each other." He pauses, then teases, "Unless there's news articles about you I need to catch up on?"

You huff at the thought, "No, nothing that I am aware of."

"Then we will have to do it the old fashion way."

"Lunch." The words tumble out of your mouth and you resist the urge to bang your head against the cabinets. "We, uh, mentioned lunch. We could use that as a starting point? Give each other our People Resumes."

Matt laughs a little and it's warm, not mocking. You still bury your face into your knees.

"People Resumes - I like that. I have some pretty good references, if you need."

"I only have the one," you mumble, keeping your face hidden despite being alone. He laughs again.

"I think it's a pretty good one, though."

That makes you smile, "The best one around."

There's a beat where neither of you talk and you wonder what else to add.

"Will she be coming to lunch?" He asks, voice switching from confident and charming to slightly timid. Once again you are reminded of a kicked puppy and it makes your heart ache.

"I would like that," you start slowly and Matt seems to sense you have more to say, as he waits for you to continue. "I wanted to discuss it with you, first."

"Of course," his reply is so eager. "Anything."

"I was thinking…I think it would be best if Minnie gets to know you first before we tell her who you are. It's been the two of us for so long, I don't know how she'll react to a big change. I can introduce the idea to her over time, start talking to her about family and stuff while you two bond?" As you talk, the words start coming out a little faster as your nerves start to come back. "I think telling her up front might make her uncomfortable because like, you'll have a Title and Authority and that would override other things. I don't want to push her into anything she's not ready for yet."

You press your face into your knees and wait for Matt's reaction. You can hear him breathing and the slight clinking of what sounds like ice in a glass and you hope he understands your concerns.

He says your name so very softly and a shiver goes through you. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip and wait for the ax to fall.

"I think that would be a really good way to do things," Matt practically breathes into the receiver.

You squeeze your eyes shut tightly and relief just washes over you. "I…don't want to scare her." He hesitates, then starts in a stronger voice, "did your articles mention that I grew up in an orphanage?" They did and you say as much. "I was older than a lot of the kids and the little ones were scared of that. Scared of being adopted by strangers. I remember being scared of that. I got placed in a few foster homes and I hated being around people I didn't know." He takes a breath and it's a little shaky, "I want her to want me as her father."

Your heart skips in your chest and you bury your face into your knees more. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, Matt. You have a good heart, that's what matters. You just have to get to know each other, spend time together."

Matt hums softly into your ear, "Not just her, you as well."

"Me?" You ask, confused.

"You," he repeats. "I want to know the mother of my child. Of course I want to get to know you. You're the most important person in her life."

You just hadn't thought of that at all - your concern has been over Minnie. It completely makes sense that he would want to get to know you. He isn't just now in Minnie's life, but in your life.

You chew on your lips in thought, "Is…um.. Is there anything you'd like to know?"

"How about," he says, after a moment of thought, "the equivalent of what you read about me? That way we are on an even footing."

That wasn't the answer you expected but it makes a bit of sense in your head. You think about what you learned in the papers about Matt Murdock.

You start off by saying where you were born then move onto simple facts, "We moved to Long Island when I was about five and I lived there until I was eighteen. I moved into the city for school - Empire State University. I didn't know what I wanted to do so I got a degree in business. I figured I'd have a good foundation with that, you know? I got a pretty decent job in accounting - I'm still there actually. I uh…am a billing administrator…"

"Your parents?" Matt asks tentatively, like he already knows the answer.

"Gone." You say quietly, but firmly. Your parents aren't something you want to talk about and you hope he understands that. "It is just Minnie and I. And now you..."

"And now me…"

You can hear the smile in his voice and it makes you start to smile.

"I have no idea how to be a father," he admits after a beat.

"It's okay, I didn't know how to be a mother. I'm still learning - I've read stuff and some things don't apply to Minnie. Or the opposite, she does something and I can't find anything that applies? And it's not like I'm just gonna drop her on you and disappear. It's…I want you to be comfortable as well? That's why I think just meeting each other will be a good start. We can go from there? Do little hang outs and stuff and build up, if that's what you want," you know you're starting to ramble but you keep going. "I think somewhere she is comfortable would be good? There's a diner in Hell's Kitchen she really likes - we could meet there for lunch? If she gets too overwhelmed, I can give her something to distract her, but you can still interact with her? She's a bit shy around new people and pressuring her to really…um.. engage might be a lot? A big thing for her is parallel play, so I'm hoping maybe just hanging out around you if she's nervous might help until she's more comfortable?"

You close your eyes tightly, a little embarrassed at your dumping of ideas, but Matt takes it all in stride, giving a curious, "What is parallel play?"

You lick your lips before answering, "Being in the same space, but doing your own thing? Like two kids coloring together but not talking."

"Ah, I got it. I didn't know there was an actual name for that." There's another pause and you can hear ice clinking against glass again. You wonder if you should get up off your kitchen floor and get yourself a drink, but you decide against it. The only thing you should be drinking is water. "What is the diner?"

You tell him the name of the diner and to your surprise, he chuckles, "I know the place. It's on the same block as Foggy's parents' butcher shop. She has good taste."

"When she gets fussy and doesn't want to eat anything, it's something I know she'll always eat. She'll have her own booth by the time she's five."

Matt laughs again and you can feel all the anxiety you had before the call bleeding away. He's been open to everything you've had to say so far and there's been no hint of negative feelings.

Maybe things will be okay.

"She can share Foggy's booth," Matt says, no idea your mind keeps trying to freak out over nothing. "We went there for lunch almost every day when we were working out of the shop."

"You worked out of a butcher's shop?" You ask, thinking you must be misinterpreting something.

"We did," he says, sounding a little sheepish, "I took a hiatus from…everything really and Foggy went to work for another firm. While we were reestablishing, his parents graciously allowed us to work out of their shop."

Part of you wants to ask about his hiatus, but the way he says it gives you a feeling you should leave it alone, so you do. You focus on another aspect instead. "So we've been going to the same diner, we just kept missing each other."

It is sobering to say - the father of your child was always right there, but fate let you skirt around each other for years. It hurts to think about, your mind whispering at you if you had just tried harder to look for him, you would have found Matt. If you had just seen him earlier, how different would things be? What if you had been there at the same time, but you just hadn't been paying attention to your surroundings? It isn't like he knew to be on the lookout for a fling from years ago - how would he have even noticed you?

You wonder if he is thinking the same thing - that you probably missed each other because you weren't paying attention.

"Don't do that," your attention is yanked away from your guilt by Matt's strong voice, "I can hear you thinking, blaming yourself."

"Is it that obvious?" You ask quietly, cringing just a little bit. Are you really such a mess he can tell over the phone?

"You said you overthink and work yourself up. You got quiet, so I assumed and I guess I was right. There's no way you could have known and why would you have been looking there?" He sounds so sure you feel guilty over feeling guilty.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. There's nothing to apologize for."

You bite your lip then force your head up and away from your knees. You should get up and get a drink - change how your body is. Maybe it will help in keeping your mood from dipping back down. You take a breath and start to get up.

"Thank you…um.. What day would you want to meet?" You ask, trying to push past the awkwardness and into another direction. You hear him take a drink and decide you do want some water. You start to look around your living space, trying to locate your water bottle.

You spy it across the room in all its rainbow sticker glory and make your way across the room as Matt starts to speak, "I wish I could say tomorrow, but we have to meet with the D.A. tomorrow and I can't miss it. I hate that I can't miss it. But Saturday? Can we meet Saturday?"

You'd have a day to prepare. You would definitely need a day to prepare. "Saturday is perfect. Is 11:30 okay? That's when we try to have lunch."

"That is perfect," Matt replies, mirroring your own. "Saturday at 11:30."

A giddy little shock goes through you - it's not just an idea anymore. Minnie will be meeting her father and he wants to be in her life. He's eager to be in her life.

You never thought that would be the case.

"Saturday at 11:30," you repeat, just to confirm and because you can. It feels good to say.

"I feel like I should dress to impress," he says with a chuckle and you wonder if he is feeling giddy as well.

"I don't think she will care, unless you have a shirt with a cartoon character she likes on it."

There's a few seconds of silence, then Matt's soft curious voice is back, "What characters does she like?"

The question makes you laugh a little because your little girl changes her preferences at the flip of a hat, like any other kid.

"Right now? Scooby Doo and Oscar the Grouch."

"I don't think I have anything with those characters," he says with an amused huff, "but I'll see what I have."

You bite your lip, then let yourself be a bit teasing, "Do you have a lot of graphic tees?"

There's a long moment of quiet before Matt laughs. It's a deep rumble and you find yourself grinning as you grab your water bottle.

"I actually don't know. I don't wear a lot of t-shirts. I think a few have designs on them - at least a few Columbia ones. I wouldn't put it past Foggy to give me something with a cartoon on it, though," he muses.

"I'm sure she will not judge you on your fashion choices," you point out, "She's three and doesn't understand what fashion is. If she did, I would be in trouble."

"Do you have a lot of graphic tees?" Matt asks, throwing the question back at you. It is your turn to laugh.

"I'm the proud owner of many graphic tees. It's practically the only thing in my wardrobe, top wise. The benefits of working from home."

"Unfortunately, court has a dress code. Or so I'm told. I don't think I've ever read it."

"Jury duty has a dress code," you point out, "It was mostly show up clean and not in athletic wear. I didn't get a good look at the lawyers, but I'm pretty sure I remember suits."

"Would you trust a lawyer in a graphic tee?" He asks and you have to pause to think it over.

"Going into their office? I don't think so, unless it was like casual Fridays. But if I met a lawyer in the street on their off day and they had on a graphic tee? I suppose so. Depending on what they are telling me."

"Do you often get your legal advice from random lawyers on the street?" You can practically hear his eyebrows raising up and your cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling.

"Of course not. I get it from Google. I can't afford a lawyer."

That earns you another bark of laughter. "I don't think that will be an issue any longer."

That sets off a little anxiety in your stomach. You don't want to think about needing a lawyer, whether it be Matt as your lawyer or a lawyer against Matt.

He doesn't seem to notice your dip in mood, not that it is particularly obvious, and moves to the next topic.

"Speaking of, I haven't gotten the chance to look at the packet you gave me. It's there anything I need to get done before Saturday?"

You turn your mind away from the thoughts of lawyers and legal battles to something much more manageable: medical history.

"No, no, there's nothing that urgent. It's mostly just medical information - she's got some sensitivities and I want to make sure I'm prepared for anything in the future. The rest is just information for you."

Matt doesn't respond right away and you chance taking a swig of your water.

"Sensitivities…?" There is a thick undercurrent of concern in his voice and you feel a little guilty for making him worry.

"Fabrics and dyes and scents, that kind of thing? I haven't gotten her tested, but certain things just make her itch. Some foods, too. I try to stick to organic stuff and it seems to help a little. It isn't anything major, just a few changes when she lets me know there's something bothering her." You set your water bottle down as you talk, starting to walk around your small living room. "I read it's becoming more common in kids, because all the chemicals and stuff used in everything now. Some of the other moms at daycare have given me tips - laundry soap was the best one."

You are reminded you actually need to do some laundry and as you walk, you grab the various throw blankets littering your apartment.

"I see," Matt says slowly, still sounding concerned. "I actually prefer organic myself, I have some sensitivities as well."

"Any allergies?" You ask. You didn't have any yourself so it has always left you guessing what your little girl might react to.

"No, nothing that I know of. I'm not completely sure about family history, but it is something I can look into."

"I would appreciate it. I'd rather be overly cautious than not have anything," you say casually like you aren't completely obsessive about keeping your daughter healthy.

As you make your way to the bathroom to grab dirty towels, phone between your shoulder and ear, he hums into your ear. "I think that is a good way to do things. I'll try to get the information back to you as soon as possible."

You don't want to chide him, but you can't help but frown a little, "Matt, you don't need to rush. I…was worried you wouldn't be…interested. That is why I put the packet together. I thought you'd want to deal with that instead of going to a doctor's office?"

"I'll go with you to the doctor's," he says instantly, "And I'll fill out the paperwork. It's something I want to do."

You can't argue with that because you would be the same way. Still, you push, "I don't need it by Saturday. Please take your time?"

"Ok," he concedes but it feels like he is only doing so to appease you. But you will take it.

You dump your laundry into the basket stored in the hallway with a little grunt. Almost immediately Matt is saying your name and asking if you are okay.

"Yup, yup, just trying to get some cleaning done while I can. Sorry for doing that in your ear."

"Do you need to go?"

Your heart pangs with guilt at the question. You can feel the disappointment through the phone and you're quickly reassuring him, "No, I'm just picking up a few things, tidying up, you know. I will try to not -"

You are cut off as the door to the bedroom pushes open and Minnie shuffles out. Her headband is pulled down around her neck and she's rubbing at her eyes with one hand, the other limply holding Pig. You only just put her down so you are instantly concerned.

"Mouse? Is everything okay?"

Matt says your name again, "what's going on?"

You ignore him in favor of going to your daughter. She holds up her arms and you scoop her up, cradling her to your chest.

"There's a monster outside," Minnie mumbles, burying her face in your neck.

"There's a monster outside?" You confirm with her, still speaking into your phone.

"A monster?" Matt repeats, clearly confused, as your little one nods against you.

"Okay, let's go check," you tell her, before finally answering the questions coming through the speaker, "Something woke Minnie up. I'm sorry, I do think I need to go now."

"Is everything okay?" Matt sounds worried and something stirs in your chest at his concern.

"It will be, we just need to go tell a monster to go home," you say, gently bouncing Minnie in your arms to soothe her, "Isn't that right, baby? We gotta tell him to go home."

She nods against you again, parroting in a sleepy little voice, "Go home."

You hear some rustling on the other end of the phone, the clicking of a door opening and the rush of wind. Matt must have stepped outside.

"Are you sure?"

His distress is sweet, in a way. You remember being terrified of every little upset when Minnie was a baby, but now you have gotten your groove.

"Yeah, we will be okay. It's just gonna take a bit to get her back to sleep," you say, carrying her into the bedroom. "I'll…um..we'll see you on Saturday? At 11:30?"

"Saturday at 11:30," Matt confirms. "I…" he trails off, then clears his throat. "Have a good rest of your night."

"Good night, Matt."

Minnie mimics you again, mumbling, "Good night, Matt" just as you hang up. You wonder if he heard it, or if it was cut off.

You hope he did.

You drop your phone off on the bedside table and bring Minnie over to the window. You are a few stories up and your bedroom overlooks an alleyway, as most do in the city. You hold your toddler with one arm and carefully unlock the window to open it about halfway. On the windowsill, there is a yellow mini spray bottle, covered in stickers like everything you own - you pick it up and offer it to Minnie.

She takes it, turning her little body to face the window. She aims it at the window screen and squeezes the trigger, sending out a little stream of Monster Repellent.

"Go home, Monster," you say together. She gives another squirt before looking up at you.

"Is it gone?"

"Give him a few minutes and he'll be gone," you promise, taking the spray bottle and putting it back in its spot, "He's gotta pack up his Monster Suitcase before he goes home, but he won't bother you."

She flops her head back down on your shoulder as you turn to bring her back to bed.

"Do you want me to stay until you're asleep?" She makes an affirmative little noise

You start the process of tucking her back into bed with Pig, kissing her forehead before helping to pull up her noise canceling headband.

"Good night, Mouse."

"Good night. I love you, Mommy."

"I love you, too, baby. Sweet dreams."

#soulie writes #fanfiction #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil

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heich0e · 10 months

Text

tags: p.2 to THIS DRABBLE but can be read alone i think, yakuza!suna/escort!reader series masterlist

It took you a long time to learn how to walk in heels.

It didn't come to you naturally like it does for some, the movement instinctively fluid and swanlike and effortlessly simple. You had to practice at it, starting with shorter heels and smaller steps and a slower pace, before eventually working your way up to any degree of grace.

The process wasn't without its failings, to be sure. Not without stumbling or blisters or icepacks that you had to press to your aching feet at the end of a long day. But you got the hang of it eventually, it just took a bit of time.

It feels like a lifetime ago now as your steps click across the marble floor of the lobby with an easy, steady gait. You listen to the rhythmic noise each meeting of your heels make against the tile and remember the girl you were all those years ago, in much shorter heels, with a whole lot less life under her belt.

She'd never be able to walk in these shoes.

Especially not in this place.

The day had started out like any other, showing up to the club in the evening and getting yourself ready in the little room you'd been assigned to for the day. It was neither particularly luxurious nor notably shabby, the same as the rest of the suites that line the hallway at the back of the members only club at which you're employed—each close to any average hotel room, though perhaps a little more sterile. First you showered in the adjoining washroom, and then you changed into the outfit you'd brought with you for that evening. You were just in the process of styling your hair when a knock at the door interrupted you.

Your eyes flashed to the clock hanging on the wall, a little startled—you still had almost 25 minutes to the start of your scheduled shift, so no one ought to be calling on you so soon.

"Come in," you'd called out, though your voice sounded a bit confused.

Your manager's face appeared around the edge of the door once it creaked open, and your confusion only grew.

Kaito has never been someone you like. He isn't far from your age, from what you can tell, but he's a man who errs perpetually on the wrong side of sleazy—what with his over-gelled hair, his tastelessly flashy suits, and his sharp, insincere smile that always has the infallible effect of setting your own teeth on edge.

That day was no different.

"You're out today," Kaito said as you dipped your body in his direction in greeting. You froze, still hunched in your shallow bow.

"What?" you asked him as your head popped up in shock, your tone cold.

You'd checked your schedule at least three times that day. You were sure you'd been on the schedule to start at 7, and the guy manning the front desk had given you the key to this suite when you checked in, so clearly when you'd arrived half an hour prior he'd seen your name there too.

"Change of plans. You were requested." Kaito shot you a particularly implicative look you didn't like, and you cared for the way his gaze slipped down to the dip of your neckline even less. "You've been so popular lately."

"Who called for me?" You questioned him, clearing your throat pointedly as Kaito's canine caught his lower lip in a subtle bite. His eyes flickered up to meet yours after another moment of appreciating your tits.

"Who do you think?" he asked you as his brows lifted tauntingly.

Heat flared in your face at his words, and at the sudden prospects they implied.

"A driver will pick you up in half an hour," Kaito added dismissively before stepping back towards the door to leave.

"Why can't Toma take me to the hotel?" you asked, referring to the club's driver who usually took you to your calls out.

(You're fond of Toma—a quiet man in middle age who always treats you kindly. Just knowing that he'll be there waiting to pick you up at a scheduled time always feels like a quiet reassurance on nights like these.)

"They've been nice enough to send one of their own tonight, and you're not going to the hotel," Kaito paused to explain.

Not going to the hotel?

"Inarizaki has been incredibly good to us, you know." Kaito's voice suddenly lost the affectation of charm that he usually laid on thick. The mere mention of the name was enough to make goosebumps raise along your skin. Still hesitating in the doorway, Kaito glanced over at you—and for a moment you wondered if the look you were seeing behind his eyes was insistence or worry. "Just... be sure to return the favour, yeah?"

You're not sure where you were dropped off by the driver.

It's not that you find yourself in some remote place on the edge of town—you're in the heart of the city's centre, on a street you've travelled a hundred times—the high rise just isn't one that you've ever frequented before. As you step across the threshold, you can't help but think the sumptuous interiors remind you more of a luxury hotel than a complex of condominiums like the sign says outside.

There had been a note waiting for you in the back of the sleek black car that had picked you up at the club, though all that had been written on the piece of paper was an apartment number and a code—which you could only assume was for a door. It's tucked away in your pocket now, out of sight, and you've committed the code to memory.

As your heels click against the marble while you cross the glistering lobby towards the elevators—the tap, tap, tap counting out your pace metronomically—something squirms in the pit of your stomach.

Up on one of the highest floors of the towering building, your fingers shake slightly as you type in the code to the keypad outside the specified door. You pause and fight to steady them after you begin to press the six digits into their corresponding keys—no one likes a girl who's trembling, after all—and after a few breaths you manage to get it right: the light on the upper right hand corner of the automated lock blinks green three times, and you're able to turn the knob of the door.

It's quiet when you step inside, which surprises you.

You half expected to be walking into a party, or an orgy, or the former that would eventually lead to the latter. But instead, you're met with a perfectly still, and pristinely tidy, living space.

You hesitate for a moment as the front door swings closed behind you, processing the shock, and then you bend down to slip your shoes off of your feet. If he wants you to put them back on later, you'll do so without complaint—but for now you don't want to make any presumptions. Next you shuck your thin coat, folding it over your arm, and you tiptoe across the threshold of the genkan—creeping further into the home as quietly as you can.

Your pulse is thrumming under your skin unpleasantly, the unfamiliarity of the place setting you on edge.

"Hello?" you call out weakly in the condo, but you receive no answer back.

You're alone.

Or you seem to be, at least.

You pause in the middle of the expansive living space, next to a long L-shaped sofa in the centre of the room with a square table in front of it. Along one side of the high ceilinged home is a kitchen so sparkling you can't help but think it's never been used. There's a broad dining table with eight chairs poised before a wall of windows not far from you too, with a remarkable view of the city just beyond the glass. Along the opposite side of the space to the kitchen is a set of stairs that passes more windows, leading to a second level that you can't see much of from your place on the first floor, but can only assume is where the bedrooms are found.

The place is gorgeous, you make no effort to deny it. You just don't know where the hell you are.

You rest your hand on the back of the sofa as you stand beside it, and the leather is buttery-soft under your touch. You run your fingers along it to appreciate it for a moment.

"Oh, you're here."

Your eyes snap up to the top of the stairs, in the direction of where you hear the words originate.

Suna stands at the landing of the second floor with a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips and a towel around his neck. His hair is wet, seemingly fresh from the shower if the droplets of water clinging to his tattooed neck and chest are anything to go by, and he's got one hand ruffling through it with the edge of his white towel. He peers down at you, his usual secretive little smile on his face.

"Hello, Suna-san," you greet him with a polite little bow.

"I wasn't expecting you here so soon," he remarks, letting his towel drop to rest around his neck again and shuffling towards the staircase's railing. He leans over it, peering down at you. "Have you been waiting long?"

"No, I only just arrived. Thank you for sending a driver for me," you say quietly, averting your eyes down towards the coat still looped over your arm. You bite the inside of your cheek as you gather up the nerve to say more. "There's really no need for you to go out of your way like that. I'm more than happy to be escorted by the club's—"

Suna clicks his tongue, interrupting you before you can finish your thought. You don't even have time to be frustrated, because his reply is so perplexing. "No can do, unfortunately. This place has to stay just between the two of us."

Your gaze snaps up to him again in surprise, and you catch the way the corner of his mouth curls up more noticeably. Even from the opposite side of the grand room you see the flash of mischief behind his eyes, warm and mirthful. He lets his long arms dangle over the railing, leaning his body further out across it.

"I wouldn't want just anyone knowing where I live, after all."

Your heartbeat is still racing in your throat, but it feels less threatening now—a hum of anticipation singing underneath your skin. You swallow over the knot of your pulse.

"You live here?" you ask him, your voice sounding a little higher than you intend it to—the surprise you feel evident in the tone even in spite of your efforts to conceal it.

He hums, pushing himself back from the railing and descending the staircase at a lazy pace. Once he reaches the last step, and eventually the main floor, that hammering of your pulse kicks up in intensity again.

"What do you think?" he asks, looking around at the home—his home—around you.

You glance around, though you barely register anything you're looking at, too overwhelmed to take anything in. You clear your throat a little before replying, "It's very nice."

Suna tilts his head to the side, a look of quiet confusion on his face as he considers you. He approaches you slowly, his eyes fixed firmly on you all the while.

"You're nervous," he remarks.

He reaches up, his fingertips brushing against the skin of your shoulder—not dissimilarly to the way you'd been appreciating the smooth leather of his sofa a few moments prior. You shiver at the gentle touch.

"I'm not nervous," you say, a lie if you've ever told one. But you shouldn't be nervous. You've been doing this job for too long to get so rattled over a simple change of scenery.

But the change of scenery isn't simple. Nothing about Suna Rintarou is, after all.

It's not lost on you just who the man you stand before is. Just what he does that affords him such a beautiful home. Why it's imperative that the address be kept secret.

Suna Rintarou is a dangerous man, even as he stands at your side running his fingertips along the ridge of your clavicle with the ends of his hair still dripping wet from the shower and hanging in his deceptively sweet eyes.

But it's not his profession that you fear might bring you harm, it's the little smile that shows his teeth which spreads across his face when he catches how you shiver under his touch, and the way it makes your heart knock against your ribs when you see it that scares you more than anything.

"Okay, you're not nervous," he says quietly, but there's a knowing, placating lilt in his low voice. He reaches up and takes your coat from your arms, laying it over the back of the sofa. Next, he catches your wrists in his large hands, his touch slipping slowly along your arms until he uses his hands to guide them up around his neck. You let him move you how he wants to—obliging, just as you were trained to be—and in one easy movement he wraps an arm behind you and hitches you up to his waist.

You cling to him tightly, your lips hovering a hairsbreadth away from his own. The hem of your dress has crept up in the movement, now rucked up around your hips like a belt. You can feel the heat of Suna's skin radiating through the thin lace of your panties where your core is pressed against the firm plane of his lower abdomen, and it makes your breath hitch in your throat when the sensation registers.

Suna groans a little at the soft sound you let out, pulling you even more firmly against him as his mouth descends upon your throat. The hand he's not using to support your weight cradles the crown of your head, tipping it back slightly so your neck is bared to him more openly. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses right over the place when your pulse is beating most violently.

"I planned to give you a tour," he murmurs into your skin, and your fingers tangle in his hair as you feel the brush of his teeth against the sensitive little spot where your throat slopes down into your shoulder. He pulls away, staring up at you with eyes heavy-lidded with desire. "I think it's gonna have to wait."

Suna carries you over to the massive dining room table on the other side of the room, but keeps his mouth pressed to yours all the while, his tongue sliding noisily against your own. Your head is spinning so terribly as you try to match his pace that you hardly even realize what's happening before he lays you down flat against the cool marble tabletop, and you hiss as the stone meets your heat-flooded skin.

Suna pulls away and stares down at you from above, your legs still wrapped around his waist. The weight of his gaze is overwhelming, and you turn your face away as you fight to catch the breath that evades you. The cityscape lit beyond the glass makes you pause for a moment, even prettier from up close than it was on the other side of the room. Suna's hands slip up your thighs, inching towards the delicate waistband of your underwear.

"This view is nice," you comment breathily, and in the faint reflection that you can make out in the window's pane you see Suna glance in its direction only briefly.

"Oh, yeah?" he asks, before taking your chin in his hand and tipping your face back up in his direction to kiss you again. You whimper against his lips as you feel his fingertips dip beneath the lace between your legs, and he pulls away from your mouth only far enough so he can mutter a final, rasping "I've seen better."

#suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #suna drabble #hq drabble #hq writing #writing

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irisintheafterglow · 9 months

Text

I Think He Knows (pro!kirishima x you)

summary: he's not into party games, so what do you do for seven minutes when you're locked in the closet with your high school crush?

wc: 2.9k

cw/tags: aged up characters!!, friends to lovers, mutual pining, swearing (lots of it), truth or dare, slightly suggestive toward the end but nothing descriptive, first kiss, alcohol and drinking, just pro heroes being idiots

note: prompt is once again from @creativepromptsforwriting because i wanted to write a silly party confession fic ! hope you enjoy, i did NOT mean for this to become this long lmao. he's literally so boyfriend why can't he be real

likes/reblogs/feedback is always appreciated <3

“I want him so bad I’m gonna pass out,” she confesses, throwing herself onto your body and sighing longingly. “Do you think he thinks of me often?”

“Now I really feel like we’re in high school again, ‘chaco. I think you should talk to him about your love life instead of me. Maybe he’ll get the hint, that way.”

“Hypocrite.” She scowls at you over the rim of her plastic cup, downing another serving of punch with questionable amounts of alcohol. “I had to hear about your infatuation all the time.”

You stick your tongue out defiantly. “It wasn’t an infatuation. It was just a crush, that’s all.”

“Yeah, a crush that lasted three whole years,” she hiccups, crossing her legs next to you on the couch and leaning her head on your shoulder. “Do you think about him often? Remember, no lies.” Your eyes immediately gravitate to who she’s talking about, supervising some drinking game at the wet bar that has Kaminari’s eyes watering and Shoto’s face bright red. Deku tries in vain to stop Bakugo from downing shot after shot, ultimately accepting a mystery concoction handed to him by Sero. He immediately spits it out all over Bakugo and both of them are so intoxicated they can’t aim hits at each other correctly. You laugh under your breath and quickly dart your eyes away when Kirishima looks over his shoulder in your direction. Ochaco nods knowingly, giving your thigh a squeeze that startles you. “Oh, you definitely do.”

Before you can respond, Mina throws the front door of Sero’s house open followed closely by Jiro and Momo. Overflowing grocery bags of junk food line her arms and she kicks the door shut behind her as her hands are both holding a bottle of soju each. Cheers echo through the house at her arrival and she bows dramatically.

“Looks like the party’s finally here,” Ochaco winks at you before joining Tsu to help Mina unload the groceries. You shake your head as your chest feels the familiar lightness that always came when your entire class was happy and having fun. It was Mina’s idea to have a reunion party, after all, and you knew everyone was looking forward to it. It was scheduled months ago because everyone’s calendars needed to line up and from the looks of it, all of you needed the break. With the press kept back by several thousands of volts of electricity running through the perimeter gate of Sero’s house, you and your friends could finally relax.

Or, so you thought.

“Okay, party people! Now that we’re all slightly fucked up, it’s time for some games! First game is 7 Minutes in Heaven!”

“As if this hasn’t been 45 minutes of Hell already,” Shinso deadpans from a neighboring armchair, but even you could tell he was enjoying himself by the slight quirk in the corner of his mouth.

Mina sends a joking glare at him, chucking a balled-up napkin at him. “Get in the fucking circle, Hitoshi.”

You slide down from the couch onto the floor and feel a muscular bicep press against your arm. “You mind if I sit here?” When you turn to that all-too-familiar voice, you’re blinded by a bright shark-toothed grin and glittering crimson eyes. You smile and nod in assent, eyes widening when you look away to stop your heart from racing. You catch Ochaco’s gaze and she smirks mischievously, to which you loudly suggest the seat next to her when Deku is trying to find a spot in the circle. You wink at her and crack open another can of some fruity mixed drink.

“So!” Mina begins as Jiro positions an empty glass bottle on the coffee table in the middle of the circle. “Do we all know the rules of 7 Minutes in Heaven–”

“Why the fuck are we using a bottle?” Bakugo’s rough voice cuts through the polite silence and Mina rolls her eyes. “Isn’t that a different fucking game?”

“It’s only there to ensure no bias in the participants of the game, Bakugo,” Shoto boredly drawls. His face is blank when his eyes meet Bakugo’s. “If we wanted, we could spin your dense head–”

“You wanna go, Ice Pack?”

“Let’s allow Mina to finish speaking!” Ever the diplomat, Momo shakes her head impatiently while she effectively halts the two Pros’ piss match. You feel Kirishima’s sigh of relief that he didn’t have to restrain anyone and bite your lip to suppress a chuckle.

“As I was saying,” she continues as she delicately dances around the circle. “The bottle will be spun two times. If it lands between two people on the first go-around, those people have to go in. But normally, whoever the bottle points at gets locked in the closet with the other person who’s pointed at for seven minutes. What you two do for those seven minutes…” A suggestive glint flashes across Mina’s dark eyes and she shrugs carefreely. “That’s none of our business.”

An awkward silence settles over the group as Mina continues to stand but seems to be expecting someone else to speak. She clears her throat and Denki suddenly perks up with something to say. “Wait, is this when I do the thing?” Your eyebrows dip in confusion, as do most of your other classmates except for Mina and Sero.

“Yes, Denki. This is when you do the thing, so go get it.” Sero pinches the bridge of his nose as Denki shoots upward, running down the hallway to grab something from the storage closet. When he returns, he triumphantly holds a cardboard box labeled “HEART RATE MONITOR x2.”

Deku groans, covering his face as Mina beams. “Oh, no…”

“Oh, yes.”

“Did you steal that from some fuckin’ pharmacy?” Bakugo and Shoto both appear horrified.

“What? No! I got it from my neighbor’s garage sale.”

“That’s even worse!”

Sounds of protest erupt from your classmates and you can’t help giggling at their reluctance to have their heart rate tracked. From your time in high school and into your professional career, you knew you never got picked during these games. You were resting easy knowing you never had to kiss one of your friends because of some stupid bottle. Especially with the positioning of Kirishima right next to you, the odds of you two needing to go into the closet together were slim to none. Tonight, you knew, would be no different than the past as you vaguely listened to Denki explain the use of the heart rate monitor.

“Basically, we’re gonna call out if you’re making the other person’s pulse jump. It’s like that one part of that couples show we caught Iida watching during our second year,” Mina summarizes and Iida’s stoic voice pipes up in defense of his “research” on how best to acquire a lover while the circle snickers at the memory. Tokoyami’s hand reaches up to pat his shoulder sympathetically.

“Alright, spin the fuckin’ bottle already! I’m literally aging over here.” Kirishima snorts next to you, hiding a choked laugh with a cough into his sleeve and you jokingly pat his back in concern. You’re too preoccupied with looking at him to notice the gasps and noises of shock as the bottle finishes its rotation around the circle. Confused at the excited expressions of your friends, you look down to see who the bottle pointed at.

It was between you and Kirishima.

You had to play 7 Minutes in Heaven with the boy you had a crush on for the entirety of high school.

Your mind blacked out, face feeling like it was on fire as you both were hooked up to one heart monitor each. You didn’t dare glance at Kirishima because, for all you knew, he was irritated about being picked for these types of games since it wasn’t manly. Ochaco waggled her eyebrows at you and you felt slightly nauseous as she hooked up the machine to your pulse, guiding the wires under the door. “We’ll see you in seven minutes,” Mina crooned. “Have fun!”

The door locked and you were in complete darkness with him. It was suffocatingly quiet, so silent that breathing felt like a trumpeting elephant. Hushed whispers come from the other side of the door as your classmates analyze your pulse.

Jesus, his heart is racing. Like, dangerously fast!

So is theirs. Doesn’t sound like they’re doing anything in there, though.

You think he’ll actually make a move tonight?

Dude, shut the fuck up. They can probably hear us through the door.

You swallow and wince when the noise is audible in the isolated quiet of the closet.

“So, uh–”

“I, um–”

You both start to speak and cut off just as abruptly, apologizing profusely and insisting the other go first. He takes a deep breath before he speaks again.

“Look, honestly, I’m not really…into these types of games,” he starts, breath ragged but you couldn’t imagine why. “I don’t really know how to explain it, I just…”

“I know. It’s okay. Not manly to make out or do God knows what with someone you’re not dating, right?” Your laugh is shaky and you mentally kick yourself for feeling so jittery.

“Yeah,” he exhales, relieved that you’re not going to expect him to do something he was uncomfortable with. You know damn well he would never make you do something you were uncomfortable with. It’s quiet again for a few moments before he clears his throat and continues. “But… I feel bad just making you sit here in awkward silence so…do you wanna play truth or dare instead?”

Oh, shit, their heart rate finally spiked!

Why’s it say that his breathing is super shallow?

You’re reading something wrong because that’s definitely not what this measures.

“Sure.” You hear him shift around in his seat on the floor and you lean against the wall, pulling your legs close. “Wanna go first?”

“Yeah. Alright, uh…well, truth or dare?”

You choose the safe option, always. “Truth.” You had no idea what he would possibly ask you, but you knew it was probably going to be harmless.

“What’s your type?” Your blood runs cold in your veins and you pray that your heartbeat isn’t as loud in reality as it is in your ears. He must mistake your silence for confusion. “Like…in a guy.”

“Um…” Your voice trails off, mind running at a million miles an hour to bury your secret. “Someone nice, I guess.” He hums in acknowledgement, waiting for you to explain further. “I’d like him to be supportive of me and my career. Good with my friends, that’s a given. Uh…yeah. Just not a scumbag.” You laugh to relieve some of the tension in your chest and feel a little lighter when you hear him chuckle too. “I don’t really care about body type or looks; I just want him to be a good person who will treat me right. In my dreams, I’d like him to treat me like I’m royalty, adore me and whatever. That’s hard to come by these days, though.”

Fuck, his pulse is racing!

What could they be doing in there so quietly that’s making him so nervous?

Shall we alert medical personnel?

No, Iida. You can see their hearts are still beating right here.

“Alright, well. I hope you find the man of your dreams then. He sounds great.” In the darkness, you could have sworn he sounded almost…disappointed? “Okay, your turn. Ask me.”

“Hmm, okay. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

The question slips out before you can stop it. You blame the liquid courage and the mystery drink Ochaco made for you. “What’s your type?”

Wow, that’s a huge spike for him.

It looks like their heart rate has leveled out; does that mean they’re not nervous anymore?

Maybe, or maybe they’re used to the energy now. He’s still a stuttering mess in there, I bet.

“Uh, someone familiar, if that makes sense. Like, you know, hero stuff can get really exhausting. I think my type is just someone who I can come home to and who’ll love me even through the good and the bad. Someone to help me fight battles, physical and mental, you know?” You nod and realize he can’t see it, so you settle for humming in agreement. Your brain feels fuzzy and it takes a considerable amount of effort to focus on the smooth tone of his voice.

“Do you remember the first battle we fought together?”

“Of course I do.” You can hear the fond smile in his voice. “I volunteered to partner with you because I thought you were cool.”

“You didn’t know anything about me yet.”

“Didn’t matter. It just felt right to be with you.”

Huge spike for both of them!

Seems like he’s having a whole rollercoaster of emotions in there.

Your heart stops again and you wish there was light so you could read his expression, whether he meant it platonically or something more. “Okay, my turn. Would you ever date anyone outside? Like from our friend group?”

He’s silent for a long time and you worry he didn’t hear you correctly before he gives a definitive, “No.” Impulse takes hold of your mind.

“Why not?”

“I’m just not interested in any of them.”

“But you are interested in someone?” The second question falls from your lips naturally and you don’t expect him to answer it considering that it wasn’t part of the game.

His pulse is slowly increasing again. He must be getting nervous.

“Yeah, I am.” Your heart drops into your stomach. Of course he was interested in someone, and they were probably interested back, but the likelihood of it being you was in your wildest dreams.

“Hmm, okay. Your turn.”

“Are you interested in anyone in our friend group?”

Your voice chokes in your throat. “Y-Yeah.” Sweat beads on your burning face and for the first time, you’re grateful for the lack of light so he can’t see how much you’re panicking.

“Are they outside right now?”

“It’s my turn to ask, Kiri.”

“You got an extra one on me, if you think I didn’t notice.” His voice is dangerously low, more serious than you’ve heard him in a long time. “So. Is the person you’re interested in outside right now?”

Both their pulses are racing again.

They must be talking about something because this doesn’t happen if you’re just kissing the entire time.

Oh, because you have lots of experience kissing and getting people’s heart rates up?

Ask your mom about my experience with kissing–

You asshole–

Shut the hell up! I’m trying to eavesdrop!

You steady your resolve, inhaling and exhaling deeply before answering the expectant darkness. “No, they’re not out there right now.” You can hear the confusion cross his face as he calculates who in your friend group was absent.

“Who are you–”

“He’s in here with me.” The smallest oh escapes his lips and you pray for the time to go faster, body burning in shame. “Sorry, this is a really weird way of telling you, but…”

“Can I kiss you?”

Your brain short-circuits.

“Huh?” You question dumbly.

“I wanna kiss you. Please.”

“You don’t have to, Kiri, really. You don’t have to play the rules of the game if–”

“This isn’t about the game anymore. I wanna kiss you, game or no game.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you.” He huffs and you hear him run a hand through his hair in the darkness. He only did that when he was nervous. You were making him nervous. “You’re the only one I’m interested in, the only one I’ve been interested in since high school.”

What the fuck?

Denki, your fucking machine broke!

We lost their pulses!

Did those idiots break the heart rate monitor?

I think you broke the heart monitor, stupid.

You’re speechless and, tired of words, you crawl toward his voice in the darkness. It seems that he had the same idea as he receives you eagerly. His calloused hands pull you into his lap until you’re on top of him, fiddling with the hair at the back of his neck. His breath is hot on your neck as you wait there for something to happen and you sigh into his mouth when it finally finds yours. The first kiss is gentle and sweet, careful not to scare you away. But after you catch your breath and pull him closer by his jacket collar, his fingers firmly press into your hips, running over the eaves of your body. Your breath comes short and fast and you needily pull him closer as he confidently meets your wordless demands. He pulls away for a moment, pressing a light kiss to your cheek.

“Kiri…”

“Eijiro.”

“Eiji, please.”

“Hold on. It’s been seven minutes. And, for the record, I want to date you.”

You’re barely able to supply your agreement before a loud banging on the closet door startles you.

Alright, lovebirds, that’s time! Opening up the door in three…two…what?

Before they can open the door, you catch the telltale sound of Eijiro hardening his arm and a spark of light as he slams his fist down on the door handle, locking you in but also locking everyone else out.

Oh, shit! He actually did it!

This was his entire fucking plan?

You better pay for my door when you inevitably break it open!

Let them be; it’s been a long time coming.

“Now, where were we?” You laugh in disbelief at the smug grin in his voice as he gently bites the juncture where your neck and shoulder meet, hands roaming increasingly lower on your body.

“Eijiro, they’re gonna get anxious that we died or something,” you make to leave his lap and open the door, but his arms catch you before you stand.

“I’ve waited years for you. They can wait a few more minutes.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha x y/n #bnha x you #kirishima x reader #kirishima x you #kirishima x y/n

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starberry-cupcake · 22 days

Text

Hello, I haven't had time to read as much as I would want but I'm here with an update regardless, because if I don't keep these constant, I'm gonna forget things and this, so far, seems like a book in which I don't wanna forget things.

previously, in harrowbean the ninth:

this happened

currently, after "parodos" and ch. 1:

so I'm making up a timeline in my head with the information at hand

which is never straightforward

that'd be too easy, here in tlt we like to be kept on our toes

we like to be punched in the gut when we least expect it

so get ready for bad math

this would probably make our good friend palmolive atreides weep

I'm sorry palomilve's force ghost, I'm doing my best

the first entry was the night of the emperor being terminated

the "parodos" bit (we'll get to that) is 14 months before the emperor is snuffed out

ch. 1 is nine months before the emperor kicks the bucket

I believe act 1 is going to be happening around that time, since ch. 2 seems to be following without another indication

because of what happens in "parodos" aka flashback, aka prologue 2: elecric bogaloo, we can attempt to estimate when the events of gideon happened

harrowbean tells ortus in the flashback that he's gonna train with aiglamene for 12 weeks

let's assume that's kind of the amount of time gideon trained, plus the time it took harrow to plot how to girlsplain, gatekeep and gaslight gideon into it

the only one girlbossing here is camilla, I don't make the rules

so, if gideon and harrow were ready to leave the ninth somewhere around 2-3 months after the flashback, it'd be circa 11 months before the events in the prologue

and ch. 1 starts 9 months before the events in the prologue

so gideon might have happened somewhere around 11-10 months before the prologue

I can't tell how long they were in canaan house (it felt like 12 years and 5 minutes at the same time) but I think about a month is mostly right, given that once bodies start dropping, things are all happening together

all of this is relative, since time in space is ????

but I need to do this for my own peace of mind

if you give me time measurements I'm gonna measure, ok?

I need to organize things

I know I will end up making a graphic at some point I just know it

this is what I get for calling palmolive a turbonerd

ANYWAY, MOVING ON

or, moving back, since we're in prologue 2: electric bogaloo aka flashback time

here we have ortus (the one we knew, not the one we will get to know, according to the characters list) telling harrow he doesn't wanna go to the field trip

this is ortus

if you're wondering why I don't nickname ortus, I'll repeat myself but "orto" means "ass" where I'm from, so that's enough to remember him by

harrow is like "I know you're underqualified but we're understaffed, so it is what it is"

the important part is that harrowbean says she sees the barbie in the freezer walking about

like a ghost or whatnot

she refers to her as "the body" and I assume that's barbie in the ice cube because someone reblogged my recap where I mentioned her and tagged

ever since then I've been wondering why she was referred to as The Body and now I'm gonna assume this is it

so harrow tells ortus he needs to hide the fact that she's mentally unstable

[non funny side note: masking is unbearable and it's awful we live in a social and cultural environment where we feel pressured to do it, especially when you're an adult having to fulfill expectations of supposedly "age-specific" activities and responsibilities, it's exhausting and I cried about that in therapy a mere week ago so, hitting hard, this bit

don't let people make you feel "less than" because the way in which you navigate the world and your experiences is different from what's expected in some theoretical socially constructed category

and fuck everyone who, in order to put people down in arguments online, ever make fun of those who aren't mentally, economically or socially as independent as what the category of an adult is supposed to be to them

argue with concepts, argue with opinions and facts, don't tear people down in the name of "moral upper hand" by telling people they're losers for needing help

side note done]

so, harrow entered the whole canaan thing not only carrying the weight of her house, her family and her entire people

she also came into it believing she's not mentally sound and seeing The Body walking around unnoticed by other people

whether or not her visions are mentally unsettled or something that actually happens because she opened the tomb, just the whole situation of her birth is enough to make anyone collapse, so we got you, harrowbean

we're here for you

and all that without mentioning what it'd be like seeing your girlfriend cavalier impale herself in front of you

I'm taking liberties with the 'girlfriend' bit but idk

so, next we know, 5 months have passed from that and harrowcita is struggling in her new environment of the clown emperor's ship

she is made to carry gideon's sword and she can't

she can't seem to know what to do or to communicate with said knowledge and she's throwing up a lot

WHICH IS GREAT!!!!!

I mean, it's not great that she's suffering

but it's GREAT because if she can't communicate with gideon's slurped soul, maybe it means gideon's soul has not been slurped AT ALL

more fuel for my wishful thinking of gideon's soul returning to her and getting regenerated and saved and being alive

I also like very much this situation in which harrow sees the sword as personified and they hate each other without gideon

it's like prim's cat in the hunger games with katniss

but with an inanimate object

I'm really liking that dynamic

is like they both miss her and can't relate to each other

ALSO barbie body ice cube is still there

just chillin' and being silently supportive, I think

not sure what her deal is but what if she's not the bad one here? because this emperor kind of sucks tbh

not in a 'he's evil' way but in a 'idk if he know what he's doing' way

I don't know about this guy tbh

so we're leaving off with harrow being mentally and physically struggling, ghost barbie roamin' the rooms, voices of people organizing stock and gideon in my head like this, walking in limbo to get back to us

also, another day without camilla

I thought I wasn't gonna have much to say and this is so long, I'm so sorry...

#luly reacts to tlt #harrow the ninth #tlt #harrow the ninth spoilers #tlt spoilers #the locked tomb #long post #gif cw

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sailor-aviator · 6 months

Text

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Four

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Language, talk of courting and mating, FBI, mentions of murder. Think that’s it.

Word Count: 3.87k

A/N: Here is Chapter Four! A whole lot of setting up what's to come, I think, but hopefully y'all still like it! If you're feeling kind/generous, please consider buying me a ko-fi! Also, if you DO NOT fill out the form below (Tag List) then you will not be tagged! I will be referring to that Google form from now on! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated! Asks/requests are always open! 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I also post my updates!

Series Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

“Are you still feeling alright, honey?” Susan asked you, checking you over. You gave her a small smile as she gave you a once over. Her green scrubs contrasted against her blonde hair, and the wrinkles around her eyes were more pronounced as she frowned at you worriedly. “You’re still taking it easy, right? Remember what Dr. Carson said when he checked you out the other day.”

“I’m fine, Susan. I promise,” you reassured the older nurse. She studied you for a second longer before turning to fix her coffee.

“You know, it’s a real shame about that Morris girl,” she continued. “She was always such a sweet girl. Wasn’t she in your class, Bobby?”

“No, she was a year ahead with Reuben, Nat, and Jake,” he muttered through a mouthful of Cheerios.

“That’s right,” she nodded.

Bob swallowed his mouthful and peered up at his mother. “Are you going to tell us what’s been going on?”

“You know,” she sighed exasperatedly, “I could have sworn I had told you. Or at least I would have if you bothered to answer your phone every once in a while.”

“You could tell me now?” Bob said sarcastically. Susan glared over at him.

“Tone, mister,” she warned before letting out another sigh and leaning against the kitchen counter. “I suppose it’s been a little over two months now since they found the first body. Everyone thought it was just an accident since it looked like a drowning. But then a couple of weeks later another body washed up, and then another one a couple weeks after that. They were all young women about the same age, and they all appeared to have drowned. Maverick was worried that there was a serial killer on the loose, so he called in a favor to Tom. You remember Tom, don’t you, sweetie?”

“Yeah, I remember Mr. Kazansky, Mom,” Bob nodded. “He was only the my baseball coach for most of middle school and high school.”

“Such a sweet man,” Susan nodded with a small smile towards you. “We were all sad to see him leave, but when the FBI offers you a job, what person in their right mind says no?”

“So he and that other guy are here because of this serial killer no one told me about?” Bob asked her, eyebrow raised.

Susan scowled at him, but let out a sigh. “Tom and his partner, Agent Simpson, got here about two weeks ago when the last body was found. I was talking to Tom the other day, actually, and he told me that there were signs of a struggle, which is why they got called in.”

“Should he be telling you that?” Bob frowned. She shrugged, sipping from her coffee mug.

“I think they’re holding a press conference today to discuss everything. He wouldn’t have told me if they weren’t already planning on telling everyone, I’m sure.”

“A serial killer,” you hummed, frowning. “That’s really scary, actually.”

“It is,” she agreed, eyeing you. “Which is why I want you to promise me that you won’t go off on your own at night, alright? You should be fine during the day time, especially with the summer crowds, but I want you to make sure you have somebody with you after the sun goes down.”

“I will, Susan,” you smiled.

Bob peered over at you from over his own coffee mug. “I promised Dad that I’d take the boat out with him today. I don’t suppose you wanted to tag along?”

“No,” you told him, shaking your head. “Nat actually texted me last night and asked me if I wanted to go and hang out at the boardwalk today, and I told her that I did. You’ll be okay without me, yeah?”

“‘Course,” he snorted, moving to take his dishes to the sink. “Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve ditched me for other friends.”

“If you’re talking about that time in sophomore year when I went with Abby and Rachel to the football game after you insisted that you would be a fourth wheel even though we all told you that you wouldn’t be, then this is not the same situation at all.”

“I beg to differ,” he laughed, heading for the back door.

“You can beg all you want, but it’s the truth,” you giggled. “Oh, wait!”

You got up from your own chair, moving to follow him.

“I think I left my bag on the boat last night,” you told him. “I’m going to grab it before I head out.”

The two of you walked down the stone path until you reached the small strip of sand that led out onto the dock.

“You know I’m not ditching you, right?” You asked him, suddenly worried that your best friend really did think you were trying to leave him behind. Bob snorted and looked over at you with a quirk of his brow.

“Of course I don’t,” he said, making a beeline for the boat that bobbed up and down with the waves. “I don’t expect you to tag along with me everywhere. I’m actually really happy that you and the gang are getting along so well.”

“Okay,” you trailed off. “Good. Because I really like hanging out with them.”

Bob chuckled as he stepped onto the boat, turning to face you. “I know. Stay right there and I’ll grab your bag, yeah?”

You nodded, turning to watch the waves as he disappeared towards the back of the boat. You glanced down when a shine of light danced in the corner of your eye. Sitting on the wood of the dock was a collection of more shells and pearls, and you immediately crouched down to take a better look at them. A couple of sand dollars were added into the mix this time and even more pearls of various shapes, sizes, and colors were mixed in with the lot. You picked each one up gently, inspecting them. Your favorite was the beautiful black pearl that rested in the center of the grouping. The oily colors on its surface danced as you inspected it, and you felt your skin prickle in delight.

Your gaze shifted to the breathtaking conch shell that rested near the edge, and you gingerly lifted it up to get a better look at it. It truly was a marvelous sight. One of the best specimens you had ever had the privilege of seeing.

“How much crap do you carry in this thing?”

You whirled around to see Bob grimacing as he made his way towards you with your simple hobo bag.

“I carry just what I need in it,” you replied to him, reaching an arm out to take the bag.

“What are you doing crouched over here?” Bob asked you, brow furrowing as he handed it off to you. He stopped short when he saw the collection of ocean treasures at your feet. He inspected them before moving his eyes up to meet yours.

“Look at these!” You grinned, gesturing down at them. “These are more spectacular than the last bunch! Have you ever seen such amazing specimens? And these pearls!”

“Yeah,” Bob said uneasily, eyes shifting to look out at the water. “They’re pretty great.”

You stood up suddenly, turning to fix him with a small glare.

“What is up with you?” You demanded, hands on your hips. “You love things like this! You’re the one person I know who gets more excited about this shit than I do, and you’re over here looking like someone just told you they were planning on kidnapping me. You did the same thing yesterday!”

Bob’s eyes widened at your outburst before melting into a sheepish expression as he looked away. He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck before letting out a sigh, looking back at you with an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he sighed. “The shells are great, really. I guess I just have a lot on my mind with the murders and all that.”

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, replacing the annoyance. Your hands moved to pull him into a hug, one he returned.

“Nothing is going to happen to me, okay?” You told him, squeezing him tight. “I’ll be extra careful to not be by myself at night, so you don’t have to worry about me, yeah?”

Bob didn’t say anything for a moment. He pulled back to look at you, a fond smile on his face as he regarded you.

“I’m always going to worry about you, you know,” he smirked, something serious behind his eyes despite the teasing tone he used. “You’re like the little sister I never had.”

“Bob,” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m literally three months older than you.”

He grinned at that.

“Semantics.”

The street was busy as people walked back and forth along the boardwalk, taking in the different rides and stalls as the excitement for summer festival began to grow. Several decorations littered the pathways, all of various sea creatures and more than a few mermaids. You watched the different families, friends, and couples run around to the different events, and you let out a sigh as you checked your phone once again.

Sorry, Skip! Mom needed help with some things at the shop so I’m running late. Give me half an hour!

That had been thirty-five minutes ago, and you hadn’t heard anything. Sighing, you wiped the sweat from your brow, deciding to take a break from the overwhelming heat. You spotted a familiar, little shop and began walking towards it.

The bell above the door rang out as you stepped inside, letting out a breath of relief as the cool air washed over you. The shop hadn’t changed much in the days since you had last been in. There were new novelty items scattered about, but for the most part, Mrs. Cambroni’s shop was still quaint and cheesy.

The old woman appeared from the backroom, giving you a warm smile as she gave you a once over. Her eyes landed on your neck, an eyebrow quirking as she took in the raised skin that still shone in the light.

“My, my, dear,” she hummed, leaning against the counter. “What happened there?”

“Oh this?” You asked, resting your hand over the mark. You suppressed a shiver as a oddly pleasant feeling washed over you. “I had a bit of an accident the other day. I fell of a boat and washed up on shore.”

“Oh, how terrible!”

“Yeah, but I’m okay!” You chirped. “The doctor checked me out and said I was fine, just a little bruised. Said I was really lucky that nothing worse happened.”

“I’m sure you were,” she murmured, eyes still locked on your neck.

“But I guess I must have hit my neck pretty good on some rocks because the bump hasn’t gone away and the algae practically looks like it’s a part of my skin now,” you joked. Mrs. Cambroni blinked at you.

“The…algae?” She asked. You nodded, and she threw her head back in a fit of laughter. You stared at her in confusion until she calmed down, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

“I’m sorry, dear. I don’t mean to laugh,” she said through bouts of giggles. “What brings you by my little shop?”

“Oh!” You cried, moving closer to the counter. “Nothing really, I was just waiting for a friend, but she’s running late. So, I thought I’d pop back in and say hi after I got dragged out of here the other day.”

Mrs. Cambroni gave another hum, a knowing look on her face. She took a sip from the cup of tea she held in her hands.

“Have you found any interesting seashells along the beach since I last saw you?”

“Actually, yes!” You smiled, digging through your bag to pull out the collection you were beginning to compile. “I found these over the last couple of days. It’s strange though, none of these were on the beach. I found a pile of them on our boat and then another pile on the dock this morning. My friend said it must have been the current-”

Mrs. Cambroni’s eyes widened as she coughed up her tea, nearly choking on it as she fought to regain control over her breathing. You reached out a hand to soothe her, and she gave you a grateful smile.

“The current, you say?” She said, barely hiding her amusement. You nodded self consciously, and the old woman shook her head with a chuckle.

“Seems to me like you’ve caught the eye of a sea person, my dear.”

Now it was your turn for your eyes to widen. “What?”

“I’m surprised no one’s told you yet,” she mused, setting her cup down and examining the shells and pearls. “It’s part of the courting rituals for their kind, after all. Just like that intention bite on your neck.”

Your blood ran cold, recalling how your first reaction to the raised skin was that it looked like a bite mark.

“But it’s not-”

“Oh, but it is, dear child,” she smiled, no hint of malice to it, just understanding. “I’m not sure why no one is telling you the truth. Perhaps it’s because you aren’t a local, and they don’t know if you can be fully trusted yet. Or perhaps it’s because you were chosen in a moment of frenzy. Choice is such an important piece of the courting ritual, after all.”

“Is that why you’re telling me all of this?” You asked her, brow quirked. “Because you think I should have a choice?”

“Precisely. How can you make an informed decision without all of the pieces?”

“Alright, then,” You started, deciding to amuse the woman before you, “what is it you can tell me?”

“What is it you want to know?”

“Tell me more about the courting rituals. What are they? What does it entail?”

“Well,” she smiled, “that certainly is an interesting first question. It’s simple really. It starts with the bite mark on your neck. What you have right now is called an intention bite. This bite is to let other sea people know that you have been marked as the intended mate for someone. As long as that bite remains on your neck, every sea person who lays eyes on it will know that you are spoken for. If that wasn’t enough of a hint, it changes your scent as well.”

“Are you saying that I smell different?”

“Oh, yes,” she nodded. “But not in an unpleasant way, dear. And as long as that’s the only bite mark that remains on your neck, it’ll fade after a few months along with it. The intention mark is only meant to be a placeholder for the permanent mark.”

“And what is that?” You asked her. Mrs. Cambroni turned her serious gaze to your face.

“That would be the mating mark.”

“And what does that one do?” You murmured, voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure why you were entertaining this conversation, to be honest. Maybe it was your longstanding fascination with mermaids that kept you rooted there, listening intently. Or maybe it was because a part of you, one that you were trying your best not to acknowledge in that moment, believed her.

Before Mrs. Cambroni could respond, the bell above the door chimed again, and you both turned to see Nat red faced and out of breath as she looked at you.

“There you are!” She smiled, relaxing as she let out a sigh of relief. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Sorry!” You exclaimed, gathering your seashells and giving Mrs. Cambroni an apologetic smile. “I was getting really hot and I thought I’d stop in here for a few minutes.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Nat said, watching the older woman with a suspicious frown. “I lost track of the time after I texted you.”

You waved to the shop owner as you followed Nat out the door, the sun bathing you in its warm rays. You peered over at your friend, a mischievous smirk on your face as your eyes lowered to her neck.

“Wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that huge hickey on your neck, right?”

Nat’s hand flew up to her neck, cheeks flushing as she tried to splutter out an excuse.

“So,” you chirped as your friend continued to recover her speech. “Which of the boys is it?”

“What makes you so sure it was one of them?” She muttered, the red on her cheeks growing more pronounced.

You ignored her. “My money is on Javy.”

“How did you know?” She shrieked, earning a couple of stares from passersby. You laughed at her expression.

“I didn’t until just now.”

Nat let out a long groan, hiding her face in her hands. You rested a hand on her shoulder to try and comfort her.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you said. “I think the two of you are really cute, and I don’t think the others have figured it out yet. I just see the way you two look at each other when you think no one else is. I wish someone would look at me like that.”

Natasha peeked out from behind her fingers, an oddly thoughtful look on her face as she studied you. Before you could ask, she was straightening up, a smile replacing her embarrassment.

“Do you think you could hold off on saying anything?” She asked you. You nodded, holding out your pinky to her. She wrapped her own around it, and the two of you shook on it.

“Scout’s honor, Nat!”

“Good!” She giggled, peering around the boardwalk. “What do you want to hit first?”

After Nat convinced you to take a ride on the tilt-o-whirl, you were sure you’d never walk straight again. You groaned as you fought to stay upright, nearly crashing into a man as you passed him. Your shoulder bumped his, and you turned around to look at him.

“I am so sorry!” You cried, hands reaching out to steady him, but stopping when you noticed that he was just fine. And staring at you. You gave him a sheepish smile, but the look on his face remained impassive. If the world wasn’t still spinning around you, you might have said that the green in his eyes glowed in the summer light. Natasha laughed beside you, throwing out another apology to the man as she dragged you off.

“Never again, Nat,” you said, suddenly feeling nauseous.

“I’m surprised you managed to make it without hurling!” She cackled, leaning you against the wood railing so you could catch your breath.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” you muttered, leaning over the side.

“Natasha!”

The both of you turned to see the weathered face of the FBI agent and his partner strolling up to you.

“Oh! Hey, Mr. Kazansky!” She called out with a wave. You turned to face them just as they stopped in front of you.

“C’mon now, Nat. It’s Tom, you know that,” the older man chuckled, eyes moving to you. “And who is this?”

“Y/n,” you introduced yourself, reaching out a hand to shake his. “But everyone just calls me Skipper these days.”

“Ah! You must be the young lady Susan was telling me about the other day,” Tom smiled. “It’s good to finally put a face to a name. This is my partner, Agent Beau Simpson.”

“A pleasure,” the other man said as he shook both of your hands.

“So are you two enjoying the festival so far?” Tom asked, smile still on his face. “This small town isn’t too boring for you, is it, Skipper?”

“Not at all!” You assured him, shaking your head. “I think it’s quite a charming little place! And everyone has been so nice since I got here.”

“That’s good to hear,” he chuckled, eyes falling to your neck. “Where’s the lucky boy?”

You gave him a confused look, and Nat cleared her throat, stepping up.

“It’s so embarrassing,” she started, giving Tom a pointed look. “Javy and I have been seeing each other on the sly for a while now, and I didn’t even think he left a mark. I’ll have to tell him to be more careful next time.”

Tom glanced between the two of you, understanding dawning on his face. He gave another smile.

“Young love is such a wonderful thing, don’t you agree Beau?” He asked his partner, who just smiled in agreement. “Don’t keep it a secret for too long, Nat.”

“Of course,” she smiled.

“You two are being careful, aren’t you?” Asked Agent Simpson. Nat’s face could have been mistaken for a tomato from how hard she was blushing. Agent Simpson seemed to have realized what he said and a blush of his own crept onto his face.

“With the murders, I mean,” he explained quickly. Tom let out a chuckle as Nat cleared her throat. “We just got done giving a press conference. No curfew yet, but we’re advising young ladies to not be out at night on their own until we can find whoever is doing this.”

“Oh, of course!” You said, nodding your head in understanding. “We’re being careful! It’s such a shame what happened.”

“You two were there, weren’t you?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, we were,” you trailed off, feeling the nausea return at the memory of the girl’s body as it lay in the sand. You suppressed a shudder. “It was awful.”

“It was,” Beau agreed, giving you a sympathetic smile. “Which is why we don’t want to see anything happen to anyone else.”

“You don’t have to worry about us,” Nat said, a determined smile on her face as she looked at the two older men. Tom chuckled, eyes moving from her to you, still studying the mark on your neck.

“No,” he said finally. “I don’t suppose we will.”

You couldn’t help but think back to your conversation with Mrs. Cambroni.

As long as that bite remains on your neck, every sea person who lays eyes on it will know that you are spoken for.

“Well,” Tom started, eyes looking over your shoulder now, “you two ladies have fun! We won’t keep you any longer.”

He made to move, and Agent Simpson made to follow after him. The dark haired man stopped just after he passed you.

“Oh,” he said, “And don’t hesitate to let us know if you see anything suspicious, yeah?”

“We will!” Nat called after him as she started dragging you in the opposite direction. The whole exchange felt weird to you. Why had Tom asked Nat about who the lucky man was when he was looking at your neck? Why did he keep starting at it at all? What had he meant by not having to worry?

You took a deep breath, deciding that you were overthinking the matter and that Mrs. Cambroni’s stories had just gotten in your head. But even as you had made your mind up to ignore your questions, you couldn’t help but feel a pulse come from the base of your neck as if it were begging you to keep questioning.

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#jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin imagine #top gun hangman #hangman top gun #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman #hangman fanfiction #hangman x reader #hangman seresin #hangman imagine #mmats #meet me at the sea

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smoooothoperator · 2 months

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untouchable

15: This Side Of Paradise

Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)

same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle, life as lovers

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: SMUT (it's marked, if you are minor, don't read it)

a/n: hello my darlings!! I hope everyone is having an amazing week! Is everyone ready for the upcoming season? Who will watch Drive To Survive??

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Watching him placing his clothes on my wardrobe made me feel happy and nervous.

I tried to ignore those feelings, sitting on my bed and folding his clothes the way I fold them so they could fit better. I watched him hand his formal suit, his jeans and jackets. I saw him place his shower things and creams in my bathroom.

Since I was little, I always thought that at this age I would be already married, or at least living with the love of my life, sharing an apartment and having a good life with a job I liked and with a good amount of money. And even if the picture I had in front of me, with Lando placing his toothbrush next to mine as well as the perfume I gifted him not long ago, was the one I always dreamed of, I didn't want to believe it, not yet.

Sure, I love Lando, he gives me every reason to make me think that he's the love of my life. But still, there's something that makes me want to take a step back.

Maybe it is that I already saw this picture before, that I saw men's clothes next to mine on a wardrobe, that I saw someone's toothpaste next to mine. Maybe it's the trauma, or the not so friendly reminder that I lived this once and it didn't end well. That this is not a first time experience with someone I love.

I wanted to smile, really. I wanted to smile, laugh, hug him and kiss him until both were out of breath. But the thorn of that memory was stuck on my brain, showing me glimpses of that golden haired man that I used to call the love of my life.

“I need a minute” I said, getting up from the bed and walking out of the room, going to the small balcony of the living room.

I didn't hear his answer, just sitting on the small chair outside and looking at the lights.

I should be happy. I really should. And I want to be happy, grateful. But why, suddenly, I feel this heavy weight on my chest that is not letting me breathe?

“Love, you will get cold” I heard him sigh, opening the door behind me. “Come back inside”

I swallowed thickly when I heard him call me like that. The first time he called me like that and I wasn't smiling.

“What is going on? Do you want to talk?”

I looked at him and sighed, wrapping my arms around him and I took a step to get inside the living room, breathing the scent I learned to love. He wrapped his arms around me and closed the sliding door, kissing my shoulder softly.

“What's going on inside this smart brain of yours, hm?” he whispered. “Be I know there's something, I noticed it while being in the room”

“It's just stupid” I sighed. “Don't worry”

“I do worry, Violet” he sighed. “You mean so much to me, I worry when something is bothering you”

“I can't stop thinking about Owen” I mumble against his neck. “About the day I moved in with him. About how I thought that he was the love of my life…”

“And watching me put my clothes in your wardrobe made you remember that” he ended for me.

“I'm sorry…”

“No, I understand” he said.

He took some steps back until his knees touched the couch, sitting on it and pulling me with him to sit on his lap, holding me tighter. The warm hand in my back rubbed circles while the other secured me on his lap.

“I guess I'm scared” I whispered. “Of living this over again. Of watching things that are not mine in my place and slowly getting used to it to the point that I wouldn't mind if we shared a place. I guess it terrifies me to get my guard down and repeat the same that happened with him…”

“And I promise you that it won't happen again” he interrupted me.

“You don't know that…” I whisper, sadly.

“Violet. I promise you that I will never ever hurt you” he said, firmly. “That I will never do something you don't like. That I will never touch you when you don't want it. What I said this morning was really serious. I want to settle down with you. I don't want to think of someone else that is not you, you are my favorite person in the universe”

I took a deep breath and hugged him tightly. Why do I feel this bad? Why am I letting my memories play this bad with me?

“I just want to be enough for you” I whispered.

“You are more than enough, my love” he whispered. “Just stay with me. Talk to me. And we will make this work, okay?”

“Okay” I whisper.

I pulled away from his neck, looking at him and smiling weakly. I don't deserve him, he's too good for me.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” he asked and I tilted my head.

“I don't think so, why?” I frowned.

“Come with me to dinner” he smiled. “To McLaren. Oscar wants to meet you”

“But…”

“Come on, tomorrow we'll have a shopping day” he smiled, pecking my lips quickly. “I have to get the suit from some sponsors”

I sighed and just leaned on him, getting comfortable in his embrace and closing my eyes.

“Just give me a day to get used to this” I whisper. “To make my mind understand that you will stay here longer than just a few days. I know I was the one asking you to come stay with me, but…”

“Heya I understand it” he whispered. “I get it, you lived something similar and you are getting flashbacks. And it's okay. But I'm not going to hurt you. I would rather die than hurt you”

“Please don't say that again” I whisper. “It just… it scares thinking of that. Thinking of something like that happening to you. I still feel nauseous when I see Pietra Gasly holding a flower bouquet in Belgium's race… And now I don't want to imagine myself doing the same as him”

“I'll never make you put yourself in that position” he said. “I'll always come back to you, okay? I'll always end a race and put this bracelet again”

I smile weakly, remembering the matching bracelets we have in our wrists. The promise we made that night in that house.

“Put it back always and think of me” I said, pulling back my face from his neck and looking at him.

He smiled and nodded, leaning closer to me until our lips met. And this kiss was different. It felt like the cherry on top of a cake, that sealed our feelings, like the signature on a contract. This kiss was everything we needed to start our life together after pouring our hearts out, after talking about our worries and doubts, after putting the trust in each other.

And without saying anything we understood it. We knew that when I got up from his lap and stood up, he did the same, standing in front of me and kissing my forehead. I held his hand and we both walked to the bedroom, temporary ours.

🔞

We didn't need words, we knew what was going to happen next, and the shivers over my body were just a product of how my heart was beating for him, only him. Our eyes asked each other for permission to take off each other's clothes, so slowly that it felt like our hands and fingers were dancing to the choreography of a slow song. His lips were on mines, never pulling away for at least a pair of millimeters to breathe and then to melt again on mines.

“My beautiful, beautiful Violet” he whispered, running his hands over my naked body, caressing my back and sides with his palms. “You have no idea how lucky I am”

“Make me yours” I whisper, feeling his fingers unclipping my bra.

“Oh, for sure I will” he whispered, tracing his lips over my jaw towards my neck. “I'll treat you like the queen you are”

I chuckled softly, kissing him again and again and feeling how my toes touched the edge of the bed as well as the back of his knees, making him sit with me on his lap. I moaned softly when I sat on his bulge, feeling how it touched my clothes core. His hands moved to my hips and helped me to move slowly, rocking my hips and making our intimate parts still clothed rub against the other, making him get harder and me wetter.

“Feels good” I moaned, feeling how the tip was rubbing perfectly on my clit, how his kisses were moving to my breast and his lips wrapping around my nipple.

I arched my back, giving him more access to my chest when I felt his hand cupping the breast he wasn't kissing, leaving subtle marks on my skin. He was worshiping every inch of my body like a good lover, exploring it like he wanted to make a map of it only for himself.

I felt him stand up with me in his arms just to turn us around, placing me on the bed with him on top of me.

“I need you” I whispered looking at him, cupping his cheek.

“Yeah?” he smiled, bringing his lips to the breast he didn't kiss yet while his hand cupped my core, making me gasp and moan at the same time.

I moved my hips against his hand, feeling how I clenched around nothing, needing him. At this point I didn't care what part of him, his fingers, tongue or length, I just wanted to feel him.

His hand pushed down my panties, making me moan when I felt the cold of the room, that wasn't going to last long, hit my core. But that cold was immediately away the moment his fingers traced my folds. I moaned arching my back again, burying a hand on his curls while the other held the blankets.

“Lando” I moaned, feeling his fingers tracing circles on my clit before pushing them slowly inside of me.

“Good?” he whispered looking at me, smiling and kissing my lips while pumping his fingers in and out of me, his thumb rubbing my clit.

“Fucking amazing” I moan against his lips, kissing him deeper.

He curled his fingers making me gasp, feeling how he touched my sweet spot. I stopped feeling his lips on mine to feel them on my chest, then on my stomach. I opened my eyes and saw him between my legs, watching in awe how his fingers moved inside of me, and seconds later feeling his tongue on me.

“Fuck” I cried in pleasure, feeling how the knot in.my stomach was ready to snap, making me clench around his fingers and release around them.

“My sweet girl” he moaned, pulling out his fingers just to lick my core, pushing it on me, making me gasp and hold onto his hair.

It felt like heaven, looking at his face buried between my legs, not pulling away until I came apart for the second time.

He sat on his knees after pulling away from my core, making me moan at the sight of him. I copied his posture, kneeling face to face and kissing him, making him hold me close to him.

“I have condoms on my bag” he whispered, making me chuckle.

“Did you buy them before coming home?” I said.

“Of course” he smirked, pecking my lips and getting up from the bed.

I smile looking at him, watching how he took off his boxers and came back to bed. He placed the box on the nightstand and I followed his hand with my eyes the moment he grabbed one, holding it between his heart and index finger.

“Sit straight” I said, standing on my knees and moving closer to him, placing my hands on his shoulders.

I grabbed the condom and unrolled it down on his length, hearing him sigh relieved with my touch, feeling his hands in my hips to help me sit on his lap, his length between our bodies.

“I love you” he whispered, holding me and looking into my eyes.

I smiled softly and kissed him, breathing in deeply and raising up my hips just to sink down on him slowly. I felt him all inside of me, filling me and fitting inside of me like a piece my body lost.

“I love you too” I whispered, moving my hips with his help.

It was magical, perfect. The feeling of his lips on my skin, his hands on me, his length inside of me. Everything I could think about was him, on how good his hands hold my breasts, of how good he sucks my nipples, how good it feels when we roll our hips together, skin against skin.

I just didn't know how many times we did it that night, but the only thing I know is that what we did was real, it was pure love.

🔞

Waking up next to her in her bed felt amazing. Getting up and watching my things in her bedroom felt so real.

Yesterday, when she told me that watching me put my things inside of her wardrobe made her think about Owen, I felt angry. But not angry with her. I was angry with him. Because he destroyed her, made her be scared of things like this, of being in love again, of being touched.

And I wanted to make sure she knows she's loved. I'll make sure to remind her every day that I love her and that I adore her. I know I will never do something like what he did, I love her too much to hurt her and push her away.

“Oh, you woke up early” I heard her yawn, walking inside the kitchen.

“Mhm, yeah” I nodded looking back at her, king when I saw her wearing the shirt I had yesterday. “I wanted to make breakfast”

“You said that you won't cook” she chuckled, standing behind me and wrapping her arms around my torso.

“Toasts and tea are something I can make” I said. “I won't burn the house because the toaster is configured”

“Okay” she laughed softly, pressing her lips on my shoulder. “Last night was amazing”

“It was” I nodded, turning around and looking at her, kissing her forehead. “Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, right?”

“No, I'm perfect” she smiled, standing on her tiptoes and kissing my lips.

I smile and pick her up, sitting her on the counter and standing between her legs. There's something about her that pulls me like a magnet, that makes me want to kiss her and touch her all the time. I need to hold her hand or hold her close to me. Maybe it's my subconscious mind that wants to make sure this is not a dream, just in case.

Last night I couldn't stop. I needed her, more and more. I needed to feel her, to hear her, to taste her. She's mine, now for real. I spotted every mole on her body, traced a constellation with the moles of her arms and back and kissed every inch of her skin, worshiping her and treating her how she deserves to be treated. I lost the count of times we did it, how many times I made her fall apart and how many times she did it to me. It was a night full of pleasure, and none of us cared about it.

“Why don't we stay all day here, hm?” she smiled.

“I have to get the outfit for tomorrow's dinner, love” I smile, kissing the tip of her nose.

“Then we go now in the morning and then we'll stay all day here” she reaffirmed.

“You don't want to buy something for you?” I asked.

“I mean… it's not a dinner where everyone will go with gala dresses, right?” she asked, tilting her head to the side, something she always does when she's either confused or paying attention to something.

“Oh, no” I laughed. “That kind of dinner is the one for the FIA gala. And I wasn't invited. I mean, I didn't do something relevant to be invited”

“Hey, I'm sure this new season will be better” she smiled cupping my cheek.

“Unless I'm one of the top three…” I sighed, smiling weakly. “Anyway, what we were talking about”

“Right” she sighed. “Just… You know my style. Do I have to buy something to fit in the dress code?”

“No, but…” I smiled softly. “I just wanted to spoil you, silly”

“You can spoil during the trip” she chuckled.

“Oh, right! We have to reserve things” I said, squeezing her hips.

She smiled and nodded, kissing my lips and jumping out of the counter when we heard that the toasts were ready. She went to her office and grabbed her laptop while I placed everything on the table of her kitchen.

It was perfect. This life with her, cooking and eating together, sleeping together and making plans. It felt amazing and I couldn't wait for this to be a routine and make it official, having an apartment for both of us.

I was once in the MTC some years ago when Lando invited all of us to their car launch. It was a big place, full of cars and history decorated for the launch event, full of orange, black and blue balloons.

But now, it was decorated with Christmas things. Fairy lights around the columns, some Christmas trees, and some drawings made of fake snow on the windows.

“Hey, guys!”

I turned around, with a glass of champagne in my hand, and found Oscar with his girlfriend walking towards us. Lando smiled, unwrapping his arm from my waist and walking towards his teammate to hug him.

“Lily, hey” I smiled, recognizing Oscar's girlfriend.

“I guess I have to welcome you to the team” she smiled softly, hugging me

“Yeah” I laughed softly.

“I'm glad he finally confessed” she said.

I laughed softly, smiling when I felt Lando's hand back on my hip, holding me close to him.

We walked around, looking at all the cars, at all the trophies. It was just like the day we spent together in the museum, he explained how every car worked, who drove it, who won the trophies and where. And everytime I looked at him he had that beautiful sparkle in his eyes whenever he talked about the team, about his dream.

“I'm proud of you” I said, placing my hand on his chest.

“Oh? Where did this came from?” he chuckled, looking at me.

“Because you made your dream come true” I smiled. “This is the place you dreamed with, the team you wanted since you knew you wanted to work in this sport. And you are so focused on following that dream that you didn't notice that you already made history here, my love”

“But it's not enough” he smiled weakly. “I didn't win yet”

“But you will win this year” I said cupping his cheek. “You said it, the second half of the season was good, the team worked hard and found the missing piece and thanks to that you and Oscar had a lot of podiums. Even a Guinness record! You will have plenty of opportunities this year to win, I'm sure”

“You have no idea how much your words mean to me, Violet” he smiled, hugging me and resting his forehead against mine. “You have no idea how lucky and grateful I am to have you by my side”

“We can do this, Lando” I smiled. “We are in this together. I will be by your side every time you'll need me, cheering for you, supporting you. And I'll be in the crowd, screaming your name when you stand on the top of the podium, okay? And when I can't be there on the races, I'll wear your colors, I'll watch you on the TV or my laptop. I won't miss anything”

“God, stop it, you'll make me cry” he laughed, hugging me tightly.

“And I'm here to hold you and wipe away the tears” I giggled, hugging him, kissing his cheek.

After some minutes alone, we walked back to where the dinner was taking place. Lando introduced me to his team, and it just felt right. Watching all his mechanics welcoming me and hugging me, teasing Lando and making him blush, felt good. Watching Zak smiling at me and patting Lando's back was like looking at a father congratulating his son. The girls of the team welcomed me, happy to have a new addition and to meet Lando's girl who he couldn't stop talking about.

McLaren is Lando's second family, and feeling welcomed even if they knew me because I was at previous races, felt good.

“Where are you going to spend New Year's?” Oscar asked us, sitting on the same table with his girlfriend. “Are you going with your family?”

“Oh, no” Lando smiled, looking at me and resting his arm on the back of my chair. “We're going tomorrow to Egypt”

“Egypt?” Lily asked, surprised.

“It was my Christmas gift” I smiled looking at Lando, kissing his cheek. “I study art history and ancient languages”

“Oh, right! You work at the British Museum! I forgot that” Lily laughed softly.

“We just want to be on our own” Lando said. “And I have my personal tourist guide, so it's a win for me”

“I hope you'll pay me” I said, hitting his chest softly.

“Oh, I will” he smirked, kissing my temple.

“Gross” Oscar laughed. “But I'm happy for you, actually. It was so annoying watching how you were like a lost puppy whenever Violet came to the races and hearing your sad songs”

“I wasn't playing sad songs!” Lando gasoed, making us laugh.

“I have audios, mate” he laughed.

“Cute” I laughed looking at Lando, kissing his cheek softly.

The rest of the night was amazing. They made a speech, taking everyone for their hard work, promising that good things will come the next season. And I couldn't feel prouder when I saw Lando standing next to me, holding a mic and talking about how grateful he feels, how lucky he is to be where he is.

I was happy to be with him, to see him smile whenever he talks about his dream and about what he loves.

taglist

@elisysd @racinggirl @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @landoyesrizz @lorarri @bellwhysomean @leptitlu @aphroditeisamilf @brekkers-whore @copper-boom @sideboobrry11 @alltoomaples @f1madison @elijahslover @silkenthusiasts @chonkybonky @summerslike11 @randomgirlnumber-13 @is-just-a @whentheautumnleavesfall @malynn @mycenterfold @barackosteaa @izzy-marvel @ssprayberrythings @ophcelia

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cinnamongorll · 15 days

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a fragile line - chapter 30

read on ao3! (139k words) | previous chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Series tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Series synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 3.6k

Chapter 30:

Juliet's POV:

“Joel.”

His name caught in her throat like a burning hot coal.

He stared down at her, his chest moving quickly as he struggled to catch his breath. A layer of sweat shone on his head, illuminated by the singular light hanging in the corner of the stables.

His eyes scanned her face. They were open wide, allowing Juliet to see the confusion and desperate fear burning around his pupils.

“I have to leave,” she croaked out and forced her head to turn away from him as she bent to grab her bag.

Juliet hadn’t moved an inch before Joel’s hand gripped her forearm, demanding her attention. Her head swung back to him.

“Explain, now,” he commanded breathlessly, visibly holding his rage back.

Juliet swallowed and shook her head. Her eyes didn’t leave his face.

All Juliet could hear in her mind was the memory of her father’s bitter cold words, smashing her entire life into sharp, foreign shapes.

She didn’t know who she was anymore.

How could she explain that to him?

Her brain was screaming at her to push past Joel, to get on her horse, to find where she came from, to find out who she truly was.

But Joel’s grip on her was strong, stronger even than the hand holding her in place.

Juliet wet her lips, then she lay her shattered heart at Joel’s feet:

“He wasn’t my father,” she whispered.

Joel’s hand tightened as the line between his eyebrows deepened.

“What?”

“I remembered,” Juliet murmured, then cleared her throat and shifted her gaze to lock on Joel’s forehead so she didn’t have to watch his reaction.

“I remembered what he told me that night… before you found me.”

Joel flinched and Juliet felt his fingers flex against her forearm as his jaw tightened.

“He wasn’t my real father. Elijah -” Juliet’s breath caught as the foreign name left her lips. She had never referred to him by his first name; it tasted like ash in her mouth.

“Elijah killed my parents, Joel, my real parents,” she whispered, not daring to say the words too loud, lest they become too real in her mind. “He told me right before he died.”

Joel stayed silent. The tightening of his hand on her arm was the only assurance that he had heard her.

“I have to go back -”

“No.”

Juliet gasped as Joel’s other hand gripped her other arm, now locking her fully in his grip.

“Joel, stop,” Juliet argued as she struggled against him.

Joel shook his head as his eyes darkened even further in the low lighting.

“Not a chance,” he ground out as his hands moved from Juliet’s arms to her waist and, with a deep groan, he lifted her up over his shoulder.

He started moving almost immediately, striding out of the stables as Juliet’s fists began to pound against his back.

“Let me go!” Juliet grunted. She was panicking now as her anxiety grew into a fierce flame in her chest.

She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t know.

Juliet wanted closure, she craved it. She couldn’t close that chapter of her life now that her memory had wedged the door open. Juliet couldn’t push out the horror that seeped through the crack and pretend that she was healing, she had to confront it, she had to face it.

She had to go back.

Saying that to Joel, when he had fought and killed to save her from that place… Juliet almost choked on her guilt.

But the knowledge that she wasn’t her father’s daughter, that maybe she wasn’t destined to end up like him, and that there might have been people who actually loved her… that desperate need to find out more was stronger than her guilt.

Juliet’s world was upside down as she swung over Joel’s back.

Through blurry eyes she watched the grass he walked on descend into stones then into the concrete lining Jackson’s mainstreet as her fists slowed and her cries quietened.

Joel wasn’t letting go.

But neither was Juliet.

When his weakened stride finally stopped, Juliet recognised the dark wood of his front door and she squeezed her eyes shut as she remembered her knuckles striking off of it all those months ago.

“I’m gonna put you down and we’re gonna go inside and talk,” Joel instructed, and Juliet could feel the rumble of his voice against her chest.

A small gust of wind blew against her face, drying the tears which had gathered under her eyes. Juliet waited for her feet to hit the ground.

“You hear me?” he said louder, startling Juliet.

She should feel angry that Joel stopped her and that, once again, he had taken away her choice. But Juliet’s rage was a tall candle in a frosted window; its flame burned quietly, but it couldn’t go anywhere.

She was tired and she was restless. Her anger was second to the wild, desperate need within her to run, to listen to the voice that called her home.

It was difficult to remember that only hours ago she was at the dance, watching her friends twirl under the Christmas lights. It was still the same night, the sky hadn’t begun to lighten and yet everything had changed. She had changed.

If only she had gone to bed, and not walked down those basement stairs. Juliet would have still be hopeful. Hopeful that she might become a whole person again, hopeful that her and Joel might be able to mend the cracks between them.

In her basement, Juliet came face to face with the rotten mess of her soul once again. But this time, she could see a way to cut it out, to rid herself of it forever. She couldn’t give up that chance.

“Yes,” Juliet agreed, her voice was numb and lifeless.

Slowly, Joel’s hands brought her back down until her boots hit the wooden porch.

She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. Juliet knew that she would either see that same numbness reflected back into Joel’s eyes or worse, an echo of the hurt she felt.

Joel reached around her and turned the handle on the door, pushing it open into the dark house. Juliet sucked in a breath when he drew near but forced herself to turn and step through the doorway.

She stood in the hall as Joel turned on the lights, moving slowly as he switched on the lamps in the living room.

When he was done, the air turned expectant, like the house had awaited her return.

Juliet looked up, searching for Joel and found him standing by the coffee table. He stood tall, his typical iron stance was in full effect. Juliet would have thought it was a usual night in Jackson for him, if it weren’t for his trembling hands curling into fists against his jeans.

The sight made something inside Juliet seize up. She wanted to rush to him and close her fingers around his. To get on her knees in front of him and beg for his forgiveness, beg for his permission to leave him, to leave this sanctuary.

Juliet knew that she didn’t need his permission.

But god did she crave his forgiveness.

Her footsteps were quiet and careful as she moved into the living room and sunk into the leather couch. Joel followed her movements like a hunter with a rifle.

Then he took his shot:

“I shouldn’t have hit him,” Joel said, rubbing his fingers over his jaw.

Juliet’s eyebrows scrunched as her heart rate slowed. Joel’s hand dropped suddenly and he shifted his stance, then met her eyes again.

“If that’s what this is about… if i’ve scared you, if you wanna stay away from me, I get it,” Joel practically stuttered, his voice low as his hand tapped in a nervous gesture against his thigh.

“No,” Juliet breathed, shaking her head.

Joel continued as though he hadn’t heard her denial, maybe he hadn’t.

“But you don’t gotta leave Jackson,” he ground out, as though the words pained him.

“It’s not you, Joel,” she said quickly, “I have to go back. I have to know -”

Joel’s cold laugh cut her off.

His mouth was curled in that way she remembered from their time on the road, when Joel’s armour was thick and immovable.

“No, see, I just don’t believe it,” he said with a shrug as he raised his hand in front of him, emphasising his point.

Juliet straightened her spine.

“I just don’t believe that you would be stupid enough, after everything we went through to get here, everything you went through… that you’d just go back out there,” he paused, running a hand over his face, “on some fuckin’ fool’s errand.”

Juliet flinched.

She dropped her gaze to her hands and allowed her eyes to follow the trails of scars which littered her pale flesh, while she listened to the sound of Joel’s breathing.

With a shaky sigh, Juliet stood, rising from the couch as Joel shifted his stance, sweeping his gaze up and down her body.

With a trembling hand, Juliet caught the edge of her top and lifted it up until she met the edge of her bra. Then she stopped until she could meet Joel’s eyes.

His black stare was glued to the brand on her stomach.

“Remember this?” she asked quietly.

Joel’s eyes flashed to her’s. They were burning with what she knew as the cold, dark rage that simmered within him.

Juliet didn’t drop her hand, she let her father’s initials hang between them.

“When I found out he was dead, I had this strange thought that he could never hurt me anymore, that maybe I could actually be rid of him,” Juliet began, stopping to laugh humorlessly at her stupidity.

“Then I saw this,” she forced out, tilting her chin down to look at the letters burned forever on her skin. Her father’s claim on her.

“And I knew that I was a fool,” Juliet’s eyes blinked up at Joel when she noticed him straighten. “I was a fool to think that I could ever escape him.” She paused, inhaling slowly. “I realised that in the QZ when he sent me that letter, and again when he forced the poker onto my skin.”

“But the worst way I realised was when I started to kill people the same way I killed the infected. With no remorse, nothing but fear for myself, and… fear for you,” Juliet stopped suddenly, dropping her top and running a hand through her hair.

“I thought that my father’s sickness had got to me through the blood we shared,” she whispered. “That I could never escape him because, in truth, I was just like him.”

Joel hadn’t moved; just stared down at her.

“Then I went down into that fucking basement tonight,” Juliet laughed, rubbing her neck, “and it came back to me. He had told me what he’d done, but for some reason I just didn’t remember till now.”

“He’s not my father,” Juliet said in a low voice, still struggling to verbalise her knowledge. “I don’t have to be like him anymore. Maybe the brand is the only thing left of him.”

Finally, Joel moved, shaking his head so viciously Juliet couldn’t help but take a step backwards when he took a step towards her.

“You’re nothin like him,” he practically growled.

Juliet’s eyes pricked with tears and she looked away, towards the door, then back to Joel.

“Maybe,” she replied, inhaling another deep breath. “But I need proof.”

That broke Joel from his frozen state.

He moved quickly, gripping her arms like he did in the stables. Gentler, this time, like his anger had been replaced by his terror. His hands moved up her arms, unable to settle on a place to touch her but unwilling to let her go.

“I can’t stand by and watch you go on a suicide mission,” he fumed, his pupils flaring as he said the words. “Even if you make it there, and that’s an if, that town’s gonna be decimated. There’ll be nobody left.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw as he continued to stare down at her. His gaze wasn’t gentle; it felt like fire on her skin.

“They barely had any food when we were there, and I killed their fuckin’ leader,” he scoffed. “It’s winter now,” Joel continued, “raiders will have got to them by now, you know that as well as I do.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Juliet felt the weight of his words land on her shoulders.

“Danny,” she murmured, as the plan began to solidify in her mind, “Danny will know.”

“Who the fuck is Danny?” Joel demanded, tilting her chin up with his fingers until Juliet met his eyes.

She swallowed. “He owned the bar,” Juliet clarified, “Ethan said he helped you both get me out.”

Joel’s jaw shifted and his hand tightened on her arm, as though he was remembering that night in vivid detail.

“What about him?” he said slowly.

“He always said that he’d known me since I was a baby,” Juliet said lifelessly, “if anyone knows about my parents, it would be him.”

Joel removed his hand from her arm to wipe it down his face as he groaned.

“How’d you even know if he’s still alive?” he demanded, his voice hard and angry.

“I don’t,” she whispered, blinking up at him. “But I have to go, I have to try.”

He shook his head slowly.

“I can’t let you do this,” he decided.

Juliet stepped backwards, attempting to free herself from his grip, but he only tightened his hold on her.

“It’s not your choice, Joel,” she said quickly.

“I’m not gonna let you get yourself killed,” he ground out, his eyes widening.

Juliet flinched.

“Don’t treat me like a child,” she whispered, repeating the words she said to him only hours ago, before they promised each other a future neither of them had the power to determine.

“Don’t act like one,” Joel replied, standing taller.

Juliet knew him well enough now. She knew that when Joel grew mean, it meant that he was frightened.

But so was she.

Juliet pulled herself from his grip, stepping backward until her legs hit the leather couch.

Everything inside Juliet screamed to ask him to come with her. But she couldn’t. Joel had done too much for her already. She couldn’t ask this of him.

Juliet had set her mind on this journey. She couldn’t live in Jackson and pretend that she didn’t know, pretend that the memory of Elijah wasn’t eating her up inside.

Looking in his eyes, Juliet knew that Joel wasn’t going to let this go. Whether it be right or wrong, Joel would hold her down if it stopped her from putting her life in danger.

He wanted to protect her, to keep her safe, even if it hurt her.

Juliet squeezed her eyes shut when she remembered the look on his face that day outside her house, when he threw away everything they had built. Then she remembered, only hours ago, when he told her that he had done that for her, to protect her.

She could do that too.

That recklessness within Juliet was burning her alive from the inside.

“I know about your daughter, Joel,” she said, forcing herself to look him in the eye, “Maria, told me.”

“Don’t,” he cautioned.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know you’re scared to lose people, but I can do this. I can look after myself.”

“Don’t say another word,” Joel warned with a quick shake of his head, eyes locked onto her.

She shouldn’t have mentioned his daughter. She thought that if he were angry at her he might let her go, but her words seemed to have the opposite effect.

“Joel -”

His hands curled into fists against his jeans.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he said forcefully, “I’m not lettin’ you go.”

He reached up to rub his neck and for the first time all night Juliet realised how tired he looked.

“It’s late,” Joel reminded her, “let’s go to bed. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

From his tone, Juliet knew that his words were just to appease her. There would be no conversation in the morning. His mind was made up.

‘Let’s go to bed’

Juliet almost teared up at the thought.

She nodded and watched as Joel’s shoulders practically sagged with relief.

He led her up the stairs with a gentle hand on the small of her back, not daring to let her walk behind him, lest she disappear.

They lay on his bed, cushioned by his navy sheets and soft duvet. Juliet hadn’t realised how tired she was until her head hit the pillow and the crushing weight of the day fell onto her.

She lay on her side, watching as Joel stared at the ceiling.

Juliet ached to know what went through his mind in that moment.

Just that morning, they had practically been strangers and now…

Juliet knew what she had to do. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t know; she couldn’t tuck that memory back in her mind and settle into life with Joel as though she had any idea who she was.

No, Juliet had made up her mind.

She only hoped that Joel would forgive her in the morning, when he found the space next to him empty.

…………………………..

The winter sun pushed through the gaps in Joel’s curtains, spreading its rays across the room.

Juliet rolled away from the window and swung an arm over her eyes, groaning. Then, like water had been poured over her, she sat up, suddenly reminded of where she was and what knowledge ran through her mind.

Juliet’s breathing was heavy as she whipped her head to the side. Joel wasn’t there.

Her feet hit the hardwood floor and she was up, speeding to the bedroom door as the fog of sleep still clung to the edges of her mind.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Juliet had meant to wake up at first light and sneak out without Joel realising, then head to the stables before the first patrol went out.

She should have been gone by now.

Her hand gripped the door handle and swung it open, then she was down the hall, swinging around the bannister as she raced down the stairs.

Fuck, she cursed herself. She’d missed her chance.

How could she be so stupid? To let herself sleep next to Joel, as though she’d ever be able to leave him like that?

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Juliet stopped.

Stopped so suddenly that she had to reach for the bannister to stop herself from falling forward.

To her left, in the living room, sat Joel, on the couch, his elbows on his knees, bent almost in a prayer-like position.

His head swung up when he noticed her.

“Joel?” she breathed as her eyebrows furrowed.

“I don’t like it,” he said quickly as he straightened his back then lifted himself off the couch.

Juliet’s eyes dropped down his body until she noticed the boots on his feet, wet with what looked like fresh snow.

She opened her mouth to voice her confusion but closed it just as fast when Joel drew closer.

“It’s a bad idea,” he continued, standing in front of her now.

Juliet’s stomach had dropped to her feet. What was he going to do? Block the door? Prevent her from ever leaving?

“Joel, I know this -”

“Shh,” he interrupted, raising his finger.

“You goin’ out there alone, it’s not happenin’” Joel declared, his voice had a frightening edge to it.

Juliet swallowed, then opened her mouth to protest. But Joel’s rough finger on her lips stopped her.

“If you’re determined to do this,” he said with a shake of his head, “I know I can’t stop you.”

Juliet nearly stopped breathing.

“We do this together,” Joel vowed, brushing his finger over her lips, “and when we get back… that’s it, no more puttin’ our lives on the line, no more fuckin’ suicide missions.”

Despite the terror swirling around her heart, Juliet’s lips stretched into a small smile and Joel followed the movement with his careful touch.

“Agreed,” she whispered, tilting her head down in a nod.

Joel stared at her for a moment, his eyes roaming over her features, then he dropped his hand and turned around, reaching for something on the coffee table.

It was his jacket. She’d left it at the mess hall the night before.

“Found this,” he said quietly, turning to look out the window as though he were suddenly shy.

Juliet put the jacket on immediately. It still smelled like him.

“Spoke to Tommy,” Joel revealed as he ran a hand over his face, “he’s not happy about it but he’ll let us go, said he’d spare a horse.”

“That was nice of him,” Juliet said, stunned.

Joel coughed out a laugh. “Yeah, well, it better be worth it.”

Juliet‘s guilt began to creep in again, but she didn’t let it fester. This was what she wanted, she was finally going to get the closure she craved.

Joel had turned around, heading over to the shelf in the living room where he kept some supplies.

“Thank you,” Juliet breathed, watching closely as he stopped moving and turned to face her again.

“I told ya, not lettin’ you go again,” he replied, his voice rough.

Despite everything that lay ahead of them, despite everything that raged in her mind…

Juliet smiled.

________________________________

@amyispxnk @casa-boiardi @http-paprika @shotgun-shelby @weeping-werewolf @mysaviorjoelmiller @chlojoceycom

#joel miller #joel miller x female oc #joel miller x reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller angst #ao3 fanfic #joel miller hbo #pedro pascal #tlou #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou hbo #Spotify

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aziraphales-library · 14 days

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Lost Fic #178

1. Hi! I'm new to asks so I'm sorry for any awkwardness!! I think I lost a fic, I read it ages ago but it still sits in the back of my mind. It follows the 90's movie script canon with a dick-ish crowley who then regretted it after losing aziraphale who either turned human or just lost his memory and he moved to a small town (tadfield?). I remember vividly that their big emotional kiss scene was after aziraphale had tearfully explained to crowley about how heaven messed up his memory. I tried to find it in the 1992 Good Omens Movie Script tag but came up empty :(( I fear it may have been deleted but I might have just missed it. Thank you in advance!! This blog is honestly so cool <3 - anon

2. Hello, do you happen to remember by any chance a pre-season 2 fic where Aziraphale is remodeling his upstairs flat, and Crowley is Very Confused until he realizes that Aziraphale has been remodeling the flat for the both of them? I could swear there was a balcony with two chairs, and Crowley was surprised to see how much of the flat was decorated with his thoughts in mind. Thank you! - @loracarol

3. Thank you for running this blog! I remember back in 2019 I read a fic where Crowley thought he was pregnant but turns out he’s just lactose intolerant. I can’t for the love of humanity find this fic on ao3 now. Can you offer some insight? - @wuskywalker

4. oh hi! help plsssssss I can't find this fic and I'm dying to read it. I think god is tired of cowley and azi's dance and slows/stops time for everyone else and I don't know what else, just that this is in the summary. any ideas of what fic it might be? thank you! - anon

5. Hi there! I'm looking for a specific fic. It's rated E on AO3, and I remember that it's after the body switch in season 1. Crowley is left with some side effects where he is overwhelmed because Aziraphale's love gets mixed up with Crowley's lust. I hope that makes sense. I think they go to the Ritz in that story. Sorry I don't have more. - anon

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

#good omens #lost fic #ineffable husbands #mod d

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maochira · 1 year

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"Now we're throwing paper planes into the sky, knowing they will crash and burn."

Tags: middle sibling Itoshi!gn!reader, angst, hurt no comfort, listen to this song while reading for the extra pain❤️, all characters are in their early-mid 20s, reader isn't a soccer player

I recommend reading part 1 and part 2 first

Requests open. Itoshi sibling masterlist and regular masterlist

It's something they should have noticed earlier. Really, way earlier.

And when the reality hit them, they knew it was their fault.

All of you have moved out of your parents' home by now. You were the last one to do so, that was two years ago. You can count on one hand how many times you've seen your brothers in this time, while you can't even count the times you thought of your brothers and missed them, the times you've attempted to reach out, and the times they've ignored you.

Whenever you met them, it was either all about soccer or you would get treated as if you were still a young teenager. Even by Rin. Rin, who is a year younger than you. And Sae, who treated Rin appropriately for his age, but treated you so differently.

You even tried addressing your problems to them, but they'd either ignore you or talked you down in the "We're your brothers, we know what's best for you"-way.

Their behaviour, and the way they treated, ignored and abandoned you, but especially their ignorance, all of those things are what made you realize you should stop reaching out to them, for the sake of your own mental health. And as much as it hurt you, it's exactly what you did. It was painful, but it would be worth sparing you the ongoing pain of being ignored or treated like a teenager all the time.

As time passed on, you found joy in other things in life, making you forget about your brothers most of the time. But when you did think about them, you would always hopelessly wonder if they will ever notice the way they treated you was wrong.

And then, they did realize.

It was Sae's birthday party. He had invited you, but not Rin, due to their still ongoing rivalry. But when you didn't come, Sae started texting and calling you over and over. But you ignored all the calls and texts. Until you've had enough and straight up blocked him.

Something about this flipped a switch in Sae's brain. As he saw his chat history with you on his phone, he saw all the messages he left unanswered. It made his mind travel to the last few times he met you and how annoyed you were at some of the things he said towards you.

And then he remembered that one time you tried telling him how uncomfortable you were with the way he treated you.

At his realization, he called Rin, which he usually never did. Even in their early adulthood, their rivalry was still going on. But this was so important, he just had to talk to Rin about it.

Rin was confused why Sae would call him, but picked up anyways. When he heard Sae's reason for calling him, his heart almost dropped.

Because it was Sae's birthday party, they didn't get to talk for long. But they did on the next day. But Sae didn't get to properly enjoy the party anyways.

The next day, Sae and Rin had a long phone call in the afternoon, only talking about you. They don't remember ever having a conversation as serious as this one.

And the realization of how wrongly they treated you is painful for both of them. They might still have their rivalry going on, but you're their sibling, and they want to fix what they've caused.

But you're unresponsive to all their calls and messages.

Did they really lose you?

#bllk #blue lock #blue lock irn #blue lock sae #sae itoshi #itoshi sae #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #itoshi rin #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock scenarios #bllk scenarios

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bookwormlover10 · 2 months

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So au idea Jason doesn't get adopted by Bruce Wayne but he does get adopted by A Batman....a tomorrow knight.....

So my idea is that somehow Terry mcginnis finds himself in the past of Gotham ( yes I'm going by Dcau continuity so it after after batman the animated series but before the new batman adventures is the time I'm thinking of this time misplaced.) So anyway Terry somehow find himself in crime Ally were he stumbled upon a young Jason Todd is trouble ( can't think if he's getting beat up or chase. You decide of the conflict) Terry being the hero that he is, no matter what time he's in, saves the little punk.

" you ok little guy?" Terry asked after the rescue. Young Jason is obviously ( and reasonably) scared out of his mind. Sure he has heard of the batman on the streets, even seen some photos of him in the newspapers. But batman looked like he was a demon from hell. Young Jason mind was quick change when the not batman gaved him his first real meal is week when he notices Jason stomach growled. ( How did Terry get the food might you ask ? Cause he's batman duh.)

With miraculously avoiding the young batman of the time, Terry does find a way back to his time, But a little someone tags along " come back with a souvenir, I see." The elderly Bruce Wayne says. This confused Terry so he says " what souvenir?" Then the elder Batman point his cane to Terrys leg so were young Jason Todd is hanging off of.

( it a good thing to mention that this is a little after return of the joker so old Timmy todd is here.) everyone is obviously freaking out. A literal child from 40 ish in the past is in their present. Tim recognized Jason Todd as they grew up together in crime Ally and the fact both their dad's worked for two face back in the day. Tim remembers Jason disappearing two weeks after Jasons dad got arrested and a year before he became Robin.

This is bad that means that Jason was ment to be here and if they send him back it could cause a time paradox. The question was now was what to do with the little punk. Tim thinks that Jason should go with him given their history. He's pretty sure that his wife wouldn't mind having an other kid around the house. Barbara even volunteers giving that her and Sam never had kids of their own. But Jason has already got attached to Terry and with won't let go of him, no matter how the other have try. He has already has chosen him emotional support batman. So Terry makes a decision....

Later Dana gets a call from Terry to meet up her at some place. When Dana gets there Terry says " I should of told you this a while ago but I'm batman." And before Dana has time to process this Terry then says " and I've recently become an teen father." Then he pulls out Jason from nowhere. " This is Jason my adoption son." ( "Dana meet our adopted son Jason." Terry probably.) Dana then also adopted Jason seeing that the little guy is so cute. It was also weird when Terry went home to explain to his mom and brother that they were now a grandma and uncle. ( Even when the child was around Matt's age.) max was also surprised with she Heard the story

Bruce legally has custody of Jason,until Terry turn 18 in a couple of months. Bruce is now Jason grandpa in this au and with tim and Barbara are his aunt's and uncles. ( I haven't decided if Jason becomes Terry Robin or not. It's your decision really. But hay at least the joker is already dead if he does)

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

*bonus*

Tim: I always thought that Terry brother was going be his first robin. Not I owe dick 50 creds.

Barbara: you make a bet with your brother. Wait dick has never met Terry how does he know that he has a brother.

Tim: he's Nightwing duh

Barbara: of course he is ( facepalm)

Bruce:( is dialing someone)

Barbara: and who are you calling ?

Bruce : Wally West cause now I owe him 100 creds cause me and him make a bet if Terry was ever getting a Robin.

Barbara: ugh ( facepalm again.)

#i just thought it would be funny it Jason got adopted by Terry instead of the other way around #terry mcginnis #the new batman adventures #batman beyond #batman beyond return of the joker #batman the animated series #jason todd #timmy todd #tnba tim drake #tim drake #batman #batfamily #batfam #batfamily au #dcau #batman and robin #tnba robin #robin #dc robin

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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months

Text

Death, Worthy of a Barbarian

Synopsis: Tiriel and Astarion had a good life together, and now it's time for her to go.

TW: Tav's death

Thanks @tragedybunny for beta-reading!

Tags: main character's death, Astarion mourns his wife.

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Tiriel raises up her face to the skies. Her legs are numb after a long walk in the mountain, and her throat burns with panting.

She feels a strong hand on her back - in case she falls down, Astarion will catch her.

"So, my sweet, what are we doing now?”

Tiriel smiles at her husband.

It's been 150 years since they met. 130 since they became parents to a wonderful dhampir woman they named Alethaine. Thirty - since they decided to become adventurers once again.

Astarion hasn’t changed a bit. Frozen in time, he looks the same as he did decades ago. Short silver curls, his roguish smile, pale skin, crimson eyes, still the most beautiful man she’s ever seen. And all hers.

Tiriel stopped aging at twenty-five. Her elven blood didn’t let her wither , but a year ago the human ancestry finally took a toll on her. Within a year the red hair got pale. Wrinkles covered the face. Tiriel was still strong enough to wield her ax and travel through the wilderness.But -

"Let me relax a bit." Tiriel sits on the ground. Astarion immediately kneels beside her the same way he did for all these one hundred and fifty years. "Don't look at me like that! I am not an old wreck."

He plants a kiss on her cheek. The winds howl like hungry wolves, and a group of warriors who joined them look scared.

All young humans, not older than forty. For them, Astarion and Tiriel are the relics of older times. People who remember Baldur's Gate before the ocean washed half of the city into the dark waters and who can tell about the Cult of Bhaal and many, many other things they witnessed.

"If you are a wreck, you are the most fierce and beautiful wreck this world has seen."

Tiriel touches Astarion's curls and he closes his eyes like a content cat. She wants to tell him a lot of things - that she is sorry they haven't found him a way to walk in the sun, that they haven't found his family... How much she loves him, her very own elven prince she saved from monsters.

Gods know she doesn't have much time left.

They've discussed it many times. Tiriel is mortal and though half-elves often live up to two centuries it's still not much in comparison with Astarion's immortality.

And he knows Tiriel doesn't want to die in bed, old and helpless. She is a warrior, with rage in her blood - she must die in a battle, fighting and killing the most ravenous monster Faerun has seen.

She is Tirirel the Barbarian of the Sunset Mountains, after all.But she is sometimes so weak, she can't lift her ax up for days.

"What do you think she's doing now?" Astarion suddenly says.

Tiriel doesn't need to ask who he talks about.Alethaine, their daughter.

Silver curls, dark eyes, a pair of fangs. She used to be a monster hunter - but sixty years ago she was invited to the court of the Grand Duchy of Shantal. "They prefer to have a dark witch of their own", Alethaine said, changing her light travel armor to a black dress of a noblewoman. She always had mannerisms of royalty and the life at the castle suited her more than sleeping in the dirt while hunting yet another monster.

"It's night, Astarion, she probably walks around the woods."

"Or reading"

"Maybe both at the same time"

Astarion laughs. "When we deal with that dragon, let's visit her. I understand we live so long that years mean little to us. But it's been a decade since we last saw our little princess."

"Our little princess is one hundred and thirty years old"

"Which makes her a young elven maiden. Though, of course, she would have been considered an adult among Tel’Quessira but still."

Tiriel touches Astarion's cheek. "Agreed. Once we get a reward, let's sail to the Border Kingdoms. I suppose the High Necromancer can offer her parents both a shelter and a job."

Astarion grabs Tiriel’s hand and kisses the knuckles.

"Beware! The beast is here!", a warrior yells, and a loud rumbling sound pierces the air.

Astarion prepares his bow and arrows - he will hide in shadows, somewhere he can distract the beast with annoying shots and small fireballs.

Meanwhile, Tiriel will rush ahead right into the beast's maw. To slaughter it like countless monsters she's killed in her life.

Starting with a wild bear she butchered at the age of fifteen.

Tiriel’s family never loved her. They even didn't bother to give her a name rather than calling the girl “a fairy bastard” and “a pixie”. As if it was her fault, a married woman who dared to call herself "mother", couldn't keep her legs shut.

Her siblings, all of whom are long dead, just pushed Tiriel down the cliff, hoping she would never come back. Tiriel still remembers pain, embarrassment, anger, and sorrow. Why? Why me? Why do they hate me?

And the sorrow transformed into rage. Her blood boiled and Tiriel cried out like an animal, like a wild beast attacking the bear with a small knife she had.

Rage.A skill of primal warriors, fury nothing can compare to. It gave Tiriel strength, faith, and bravery.

And ever since then, her blood boils the same way before the battle. When suddenly the two-handed ax gets as light as a wooden stick and the monster in front of Tiriel becomes just a pathetic animal

"I will go first!" Tiriel says to the warriors, lifting the ax.And suddenly it feels too heavy.

Pain pierces her body, from spine to legs, and Tiriel almost collapses to the ground.

Human ancestry dictates its rules.

You are old, Tiriel. You don't belong to the battlefield. You belong to a safe bed in a cozy home which will be your grave soon enough.

Pale hands grab Tiriel’s waist and help the woman to stand up. Astarion looks at Tiriel, with no smirk or tease in his eyes.

"IT'S HERE!"

The massive body of the beast lands, ready to burn down everything to the crisp. A dragon. A Death, worthy of a warrior.

Tiriel isn't scared. She smiles at Astarion and presses her wrinkled forehead to his."Astarion, tell the bards to make a song about me."

Whatever he answers drowns in the dragon's roar.Tiriel walks right to the beast. Then she runs.The blood boils with rage. The lungs burn. The adamantium ax feels as light as if it was made of hollow bones.

Tiriel has no complaints and no regrets.

She had everything she could ever wish for. A life full of heroic deeds. Friends to drink ale with. A family. A daughter to be proud of.A man to hold in arms.

She will be remembered. She will be loved.That's her own immortality.

Tiriel the Barbarian runs faster and faster, holding her weapon above her head.

"RAGE!!!"

***

It all ended in a blink of an eye. The dragon which spent its last minutes trying to get a shadow figure who dared to cast "ig-nis' ' now lies dead among the burning trees.It won't attack the city, and the people will spend the next days honoring the heroes who killed the dragon, not hiding from it.

Astarion jumps down on the ground."Tiriel! TIRIEL!!!"

No, she couldn't die. Not now. He needs her. He will always need her. And they agreed to visit Alethaine together, she must be alive!

Astarion waits. Waits to hear her voice, to see her. "It's just a scratch" she will tell him, visibly bleeding and he will carry her in his arms to a safe place.

Tell the bards to make a song about me.

What did he answer? What was his response?I love you.

Yes, that's what he told her. That is what he has been telling her for decades. Every day, these words never lost their meaning.

"Tiriel!" Astarion grabs a warrior's hand. "Damn, where is she?!"

"She... died."

Astarion pushes the man away and runs to the dragon's corpse. It's so hot it’s impossible to be there but blessed by his immortality Astarion barely feels the heat.

"Tiriel! Tiriel!"He keeps calling, hoping to hear the answer. She must have been wounded. Of course, fights aren’t easy for her anymore. She is getting older. But she still... She has time to spend with him.

Then he stumbles over something.

Astarion makes a step back and sees the plate of her armor, melted in the dragon fire.Red hot.

"I am sorry", one of the warriors says. "She just jumped into it like a fucking dragon slayer. She cracked the beast's skull in two and disappeared in the flames. We will remember her. She saved us."

Astarion drops to his knees still holding the piece of armor in his pale hands. He feels numb. Is he supposed to yell? To scream? To curse? What do people do when they lose their hearts?

He sits like that staring in the distance. He will never see Tiriel. He will never hold her warm hands. He will never talk to her. He won't spend hours motionless while Tiriel, sound asleep, clings to his cold body.

She will never kiss him. Or caress his elven ears.

He will never taste her blood, so divine and sweet.

He will never read to her, will never say how much he loves her just to see a smile on her face.

Tiriel made him feel redeemed, innocent, and alive. She brushed away his terrible past with a tender touch of her fingers. Now when he thinks about his scars, they don't hurt because he remembers Tiriel's kisses along his skin.

But it's over now.

Her mortal life came to an end. She died as she desired. In a fight. The bards will make a song about her. People will remember her.

"You need to go, it's almost sunrise", a young woman tries to make him stand but his legs don't obey.

"I-I... Need to tell... my daughter..." Astarion mutters.

Alethaine... She was attached to her mother. Ever since she was born. Always clinging to her like a kitten. Astarion remembers Alethaine crying - when she was six Tiriel was severely wounded and though she was all right the little Dhampir realized what mortality was for the first time.

Of course, that six-year-old girl is long gone. The woman he will have to talk to has a century's worth of life experience. But a mother is a mother. And Astarion will have to be strong when he meets the High Necromancer, Alethaine Ancunin.

Gods know, he doesn't want to deliver this news to her. But who will?

Astarion looks around trying to memorize the place which became a grave for his beloved.

He will grieve. He will mourn. Once his mind makes peace with what happened. He just doesn't know how to live without Tiriel. He started living at his grave 150 years ago, with her by his side. Her smile, her warmth, her kindness.

Which are all gone.

Astarion gives out a cry, pressing the melted plate to his chest.

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea@micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx@astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion romance #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion hurt #astarion fics #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #spacebarbarian fics #astarion angst #tiriel of the sunset mountains #tiriel the barbarian #astarion x tiriel #oc tav: tiriel

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sideprince · 4 days

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I've seen the same post a hundred times now. Sometimes it's a few days old, sometimes it's from years ago, but it's always the same. Some anti posts about how they don't understand how anyone can like Snape because he was so awful, and then there's a long reply that goes something like, "imagine this happens to you, and then this, and then this" to describe Snape's experience. Sometimes there's some James Potter hate thrown in.

Look. You can go through describing a character's entire experience but you don't really need to. Here's the thing that antis don't understand:

For all her faults (and they're big, bigoted ones) Rowling understood a really integral part of the human experience and conveyed it through Snape. Everyone needs love and to feel accepted. It's that simple. Snape became a Death Eater to seek acceptance (Rowling has confirmed this, though I can't remember the source - whoever wants to add it please do), because it was the only way he could find any.

Snape's understanding of morality, like everyone's, is subjective. Some readers understand this and some don't. When faced against a morality that says there is good and bad in the world, everyone makes choices based on their personal experience. Context is everything. Someone who experiences pain and suffering will not see the person inflicting it on them as moral. That's it. 'How can this person be good when they caused me so much suffering?' = human psychology. Most of the people who think 'I'm a bad person and deserve this' have been gaslit and abused into thinking so, because it's not a natural reaction - it's one that has to often be socialized into someone at a young age, exactly because it's not natural. Everyone is the hero of their own story; no one sees themselves as a villain, because they see the valid aspects of their own perspective.

You can write essays on how vulnerable people needing acceptance is what cults and fascists exploit to recruit vulnerable people, or on how the standard anti's un-nuanced reading of Snape both ignores canon and displays a disturbing lack of empathy or compassion, but at its core it just boils down to context. From Snape's perspective he experienced cruelty, therefore the people inflicting it must be cruel. Again, it's that simple. He was a person, like any other, except he was fictional so he wasn't even real. On the flip side is James Potter, who, for all his faults, didn't get to live long enough to get a chance to change and grow unlike Snape, and I think the Snapedom also needs to acknowledge that.

They're fictional characters representing things an author wants to say, not sports teams, not martyrs, and not all good or all bad emblems that define your identity depending on how you feel about them. It's depressing how much time is wasted arguing with bullies and trolls whether from the Marauders fandom or just random antis. I literally can't find more than three blogs to follow without this argument coming across my feed daily. I know the Snapedom is Not OK™ and that's kind why we're all here, and I know that my take is super unpopular but like Snape, I don't care what others think: this fandom has been having the exact same argument for years and nothing has changed. There's fanart and meta and fic and so much content out there appreciating this character, you're not going to change an anti's mind who's deliberately trolling in the tags, so why are you trying? What are you getting out of it? What does it give you? It's exhausting just scrolling past it.

#The thing about morality is that it's subjective #the religious leader who's a beacon of moral purity to their congregation #is a source of selfishness and pain to someone they abuse in secret #is that abuse victim immoral for rejecting the values the religious leader represents?#the congregation might think so because their definition of morality relies on the religious leader being a moral guide #the victim might not think so though because how can something be righteous if it causes suffering #look this is just an example of how perspectives can vary and I know there are more possible takes on that example #my point is that the idea that there's no clear 'good' and 'evil' there's only power/what you do with it is actually how psychology works #'good' to one person can be pain to another #'scourgify' is an innocuous household spell that cleans stains until it's used to waterboard someone #context matters more than labels like 'light' and 'dark' magic

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itwasthereaminuteago · 7 months

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|| Lost and Found ||

Frank Castle x female reader

Tags/warnings: meetcute! With dogs!

Oral (f rec), beardburn, coming in pants (m) 😍, written for the @bernthirst-events #beardthalbash, thanks to @darlingshane and @anna-hawk for organising!

"Midge! Miiiidge!" Your voice echoes through the endless trees as you call out again and again, listening hopefully for the familiar thunder of paws on the leafy undergrowth coming back toward you, but there was nothing but the muted twitter of birds. "Midge, come!" You shout again, your voice starting to tremble with worry as you walk hurriedly along the forestry path. The light was beginning to fade earlier in these shortening autumn evenings, and it would soon be impossible to find your runaway pup. You take out your phone, dismayed to see the signal nonexistent out this deep in the woods.

"C'mon Midge! Midge, please come back!" The back of your throat is rough from yelling and your eyes are glistening with tears. You couldn't go home, you had to keep looking for her.

"Miiiidge?!" You tried again, and stopped in your tracks as you heard a rustling nearby, but it was just a blackbird rummaging in the leaf litter.

"Oh Midge…" you croak out more quietly, still holding her broken lead tightly in your fist. You cursed yourself for not replacing it sooner after she had been chewing it, for not buying a stronger one. You were so wrapped up in your own admonishment that you jumped out of your skin when someone walked up the track behind you.

"Ma'am, if you don't mind me askin', are you alright?"

You turned and were met with the figure of a large bearded man. He kept his distance when he realised he had given you a bit of a fright, giving you time to take in the fact that he was wearing a dark green shirt with the park ranger logo embroidered on it along with utility pants and sturdy walking boots. His eyes were dark and he was looking at you kindly.

"I'm Frank, I'm a ranger. I heard you yelling, can I help?" He asks, and you find yourself stuttering over your words, partly in relief that someone else was around, and someone who hopefully knew these woods a lot better than you.

"It's- it's my dog, she… oh, I've been searching and calling for her for hours, she broke her lead when she saw a squirrel and bolted after it! I couldn't catch her in time and she's just- she's just a pup!" You sniffle as your eyes keep flitting around to look through the trees. "I can't find her, she doesn't know this part of the woods that well, I can't leave her alone out there."

The ranger nods and steps a little bit closer. "Alright, I know that you're worried about her, but this sorta thing happens a lot. I'm gonna help you to find her best I can. Can you give me a description? An' I heard you callin' out 'Midge', s'that right?"

You wipe at your damp eyes, nodding. "She's a border collie, black and white. She's 8 months but she's small for her age."

"Okay ma'am, do you remember when and where you last saw her? I'll radio my team and we'll be able to have more eyes and ears lookin' out for Midge okay?" His voice is low and authoritative but soft with it, and your tears soon stop as you're distracted by the way he goes straight into action.

"Back over the ridge near the fire pass, I think it was about two hours ago…" you tell him.

Frank unclips his radio from his belt and relays all the information, getting confirmation from a variety of voices shortly after.

"Okay, let's take a walk back that way huh? You got some treats or somethin' with you?"

You fall into step beside him, grasping the bag of mini bone biscuits from your pocket. "Yeah."

He smiles. "That's good. Those her favourite, huh?"

"Yeah. But she just loves any food really."

You pick a few out hoping that Midge might be able to smell them from wherever she is and her greedy stomach might lead her back to you.

Frank nods. "Is she alright with guys? I know some dogs don't like a man with a beard, can scare em sometimes."

You soon dismiss Frank's concern. "No not at all, actually she'd likely love you. I mean, our postman is quite a big guy and she's always happy to see him at the house. Though I guess he does bring treats for a lot of the dogs."

Frank smiles again and starts calling out for Midge as you come near to the spot where she ran off and you join him, shaking the bag of treats. He takes out a flashlight and starts a sweep. "Which way did she head, do you remember?" He asks.

You point down the slope in front of you and he starts making his way through the trees with you following behind and both calling. After a little while walking down the hill he holds up his hand in a signal to stop and you stay quiet. He listens and you strain your ears too, eventually hearing a distant whimper.

"Oh! Oh it's Midge!" You're suddenly sick with fear that she's seriously hurt and start running towards the sound, the thick branches scraping against your face and arms. Frank catches up to you quickly and urges you to slow down.

"Hey, hey! Watch yourself now, there's a ton of burrows and shit you could break your ankle in if you're not careful. Just hold back with me. It's alright, we'll get to her."

You reluctantly slow your pace as he's right after all, he does know these woods better than you and very soon he's crouching down at the roots of a big tree. As you round it you see little Midge on the ground whining and wagging her tail as she sees you. Her back paw is caught between two roots and she's clearly in some pain.

"Hey, hey Midgey, shhh it's okay, just stay nice and still." You try to calm her, holding her collar as Frank is extremely gentle as he carefully moves the roots to work her paw free and lift her up.

"There we go," he says as he holds her.

Both of you look the pup over for any other injuries before he radios that you'd found her to his colleagues. As you feel her ankle joint there's a little bruising but she doesn't seem to be in any great distress and when you hold out one of her treats she's more than eager to gobble it up.

"Oh Midge, it's alright baby, you're gonna be alright!" You stroke her soft fur in comfort, more for you, lifting your head to look at the ranger, your eyes shining slightly with tears. Just then Midge tilts her head up and licks Frank's face so sweetly and he cracks a smile. "Heh, that's a good sign."

You're so relieved and the rich sound of his laugh as Midge keeps on lavishing him with licks is infectious, making you chuckle too. It makes you feel so much better after all the worry.

"I can't thank you enough, Frank. I was so scared it would be so much worse!" You tell him as you all walk back to the park entrance.

"Hey no worries, it's all just part of the job." He replies as you reach the gate. It was almost completely dark now and the rain was starting to come down in a drizzly mist. "You local? Do you need a ride home?" He asks.

You glance down the road. It was only about a mile and a half walk away but you didn't want to risk Midge getting away from you again as she might manage to wriggle out of your arms on the road.

"Um, actually that would be really great if it wouldn't be too much trouble? We're not far."

"Not at all ma'am, best make sure this lil lady doesn't have another chance to get into trouble again, I know what they can be like!" He jibes, booping Midge gently on her nose which she licks afterwards.

When you reach the outside of your little lodge house after the short ride, you thank Frank again. In the light from the porch his dark eyes are twinkling as he bids you both goodnight.

"I'm sure she'll be back out and about in no time, just keep an eye out for those darn squirrels yeah?"

You laugh a little now that your worry is mostly over, and you notice how handsome he is as well as the kindness and trust that seemed to just emanate from him effortlessly, putting you at ease. "I certainly will! I'm so glad you found us, thank you. Once she's rested and recovered from her ordeal maybe we'll see you around?"

"Yeah, I sure hope so." He replies giving you a gorgeous smile as he gets back into his truck.

Frank is just signing off an email when he hears a familiar bark from outside the office. Lady, his own dog, responds with her own short huff, excited to see her playmate again.

It's been a couple of months since Midge's incident and maybe him carrying treats in his pocket might have had something to do with it, but she always ran up to the ranger station and let her arrival be known every time you walk her. And Frank sure as hell doesn't mind as it means he gets to see you.

It had started with polite, friendly waves and a big pet for Midge whenever you happened upon each other in the park. Then, you would frequently stop to chat to him, ask him about his day and he about yours, and then you had started to drop by after his shift finished so you could all go on a walk together. There was nothing Frank loved more than being in the outdoors, except now he got to share that with someone, and he found himself increasingly glad that it was you.

Frank always made you laugh with the way he would run around playing with Midge and Lady, even after a long day's work. You showed him the tricks you had been teaching your pup, and on your regular hikes you also started to learn more about each other. Frank started looking forward to the times he would see you, your easy and generous smile lighting up his world and maybe even pushing to broaden the boundaries of it, maybe let someone like you to become something more. It had been a long while since he thought he felt something more than friendship blossoming, and gradually opening up to you felt right.

Still, right now he was so damn nervous. He had been trying to work up the courage to ask you out for days and then he'd inevitably chicken out, but he promised himself he'd do it tonight. And even if you turned him down, there'd be no regrets.

"Hey big bear!" You say as you greet him. "Which route do you wanna take this evening Frankie? It's your turn to pick." You ask him as Frank steps out with Lady and locks up the office. He almost loses his nerve when he turns and sees your pretty face and your sweet voice calling his nickname caresses his ears.

"Uh, I was thinkin' up by the creek," he suggests as the four of you start walking up the trailhead. Frank scratches at the back of his shirt collar. "Can't remember if I mentioned before but our place is up that way."

You turn to look at him wide eyed after you throw the ball for the dogs as they run ahead. "It is? Wow, it's so gorgeous up there. You're so damn lucky Frank, a perfect job and an amazing commute!"

He can't help beaming back, you seemed to see the positive in almost everything, he guessed he was pretty lucky.

Okay, he decides, now is the time to do it. Just put it out there. Just ask. What's the worst that could happen?

He clears his throat. "Was wonderin' actually, if you'd… uh, maybe you might wanna-" He couldn't believe he was stuttering over such a simple question. Fuck, was it supposed to be this hard? Thankfully, you stepped in and saved both of you from any more of his awkwardness.

"Frank, are you inviting me to your place?" You ask.

The light rain that's falling makes the longer strands of his hair lie in curls against his forehead. He runs a hand through it pushing it back, nodding. "Yeah, I mean, no pressure or anything. Just, if you wanna maybe have a drink with… me?"

You smile at him again. "Yeah, I'd love to."

By the time you reached his lodge you were both slightly soaked by the autumn drizzle. Frank stacks up the wood burner as soon as he lets you in, giving you and the dogs a towel to dry off with as he gets the fire going.

Once you dry off your hair and the dogs, you look around his home in awe. It's so beautiful, hewn from trees from this very forest, nothing too big and grand, just perfectly cosy. He had a neat but well stocked kitchen area, with a solid oak table and chairs by the window. A set of natural carved steps led up to a mezzanine with shelves stacked with all sorts of books and what you assumed was his bedroom.

There were glazed double doors that opened out the back onto a wooden porch and the mossy lawn behind bordered by the trees. And beside the wood burning stove was a tired but comfy looking sofa with a massive thick rug in front of it where Frank gestured to you to make yourself at home.

You kick off your shoes and hang your coat up on a hook near the door beside his next to the dog leads, and settle on the couch.

"This is magic, Frank," you tell him as he opens the fridge taking out a couple of beers.

He shakes his head, dipping his face a little like he's embarrassed or something as he walks over and hands you a bottle. "It's alright. You hungry?" He asks.

"I'm alright just now, just thirsty!" You smile, clinking your bottle against his as he sits down across from you after placing a couple of logs onto the now steadily blazing pile of kindling.

"Did it come with the job?"

He shrugs, fingers stroking his thick beard. "Uh, kinda." He takes a swig of beer and smiles as he notices Lady bringing out one of her favourite toys and letting Midge play with it without a gripe.

"Heh, look at that. S'good they're gettin' on so well." He remarks, and you hum in agreement as you watch them play.

"Yeah, I'm so glad," You say as you turn your gaze back to him. "It means we can spend more time together."

The corners of Frank's mouth pull up just a little. "S'that so? Cos I've been thinking I'd like that." He admits, the nerves rapidly melting away.

You move just a little bit closer to him on the couch, turning your body to face his. "I know I'd like that…" you confess. As you put your beer down on the side table, your hand brushes his knee and you decide to leave it there. He gazes directly at you and you feel your body temperature rise but it's not because of the fire that's burning nearby...

His fingers lightly stroke over yours and when you look back up he's so focused on you, the brown of his eyes seems so deep and dark and soft you could get lost in them. He's searching your expression for permission.

"Can I kiss you?"

His voice melts like thick honey in your ears and you're leaning in with a whispered yes instantly, almost before he can get all the words out. He raises a hand to cup your face stroking his thumb softly over your cheek and you close your eyes as he slowly leans in and gently captures your lips with his own. He's so very tender but you can feel the control he possesses as you eagerly kiss him back, the captivating strength and power held in check only by a hair trigger. Your fingers thread through his beard, guiding him to you and right now he'll go wherever you want him. He thinks maybe he should stop, a gentleman would stop and let you take the lead, dictate the pace, but you already are.

Under the light tang of beer you taste sweeter than he could imagine as your tongue slips in so softly, so teasingly between his parted lips against his own and he can't help the low moan he lets out as you surprise him by shifting to climb into his lap.

You gently pull away for a second, and your words are laced with a barely concealed urgency that has him struggling against that fucking gentlemanly conscience he had just a minute ago.

"Tell me if this is too fast?" You probe, looking down at him, your pupils already blown out. You'd been waiting for this. You'd given him all the signals for a little while now, hoping he'd maybe feel the same, waiting for him to be ready.

Frank's eyes dart from yours, down to your mouth and back up again. "Don't feel too fast to me," his words almost vibrate through you with his low tone. "Just feels right."

He moves to kiss you again and it's bliss. His lips are so soft, as is his beard although slightly tickly against your skin. You sigh and smile making a contented sound and he shows you some more of that control, his hands running up the sides of your thighs to rest on your waist, just lightly holding you. He still lets you set the speed, what you want and you let him know as your fingers slide up the shirt covering his broad chest weaving into his hair. His kiss goes deeper as you move in his lap, slowly shifting forward, pressing your hips against his and he makes his reaction to that known with the sexiest noise you've heard him make so far. You want so desperately to hear more.

"Been goin' crazy over you, you know that sweetheart?" He reveals, as you both pull away momentarily, still just inches away from each other's mouths. Your breaths are shallow, you've not felt this excited in a long while.

"You think I haven't felt the same?" You smirk.

In the days after Midge's rescue and recovery, you had found yourself thinking about Frank a lot. About his kindness, competency, and yeah maybe sometimes about how handsome he is… still you never thought he'd take a second look at you, but now you had both arrived here, feeling Frank's fingers twitch against you desperate to touch and you eager for him to do so.

You urge him to continue to explore as your lips meet again, the sensation of his fingertips so tentatively sliding up under your sweater and chasing the goosebumps away as they glide over your bare skin. You nip teasingly at his lower lip and he rewards you with a small grunt before his tongue delves back deeper into your mouth as you move your core over the now obvious bulge in his pants. He trails hot kisses down the side of your neck, pulling at the neckline of your top and you peel it off so his lips can access more of you.

"You're so gorgeous darlin'," he speaks into your skin as he places every kiss with care and attention, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he mouths around the swell of your breasts still held captive by your bra. You tug at the hem of his shirt, leaning back for a moment so he can move to take it off. Your hands are back on him instantly, tracing over his muscular torso, fingers excitedly running over every dip and rise, appreciating every rough line of his varied scars now bared to you. You're both almost panting for breath, and he's struck dumb as you claw at his belt buckle but he gently puts his hands over yours, halting them.

You glance up. "Oh, if you don't want to-"

Frank chuckles, bumping his nose against yours. "I do. God, I really do… I just need to make sure it's what you want."

You can't believe this guy, he's almost perfect. Frustratingly so.

"Frank, I really want you." You tell him in all lucidity.

He licks across his lips at your confirmation, making the damp spot in your panties grow as he lets his eyes rove over you.

"Well, I'm gonna take you to bed then. C'mon." He says as he encourages you to your feet and guides you up the stairs.

You shimmy off your pants and socks in between more fervent kisses before he lays you down on his bed, leaving his own on as he lifts your foot and starts kissing his way up the inside of your ankle and calf. You part your legs wider to make space for him and his broad shoulders, your heart rate increasing by bounds as you anticipate his next move.

"Mm, s'this okay sweetheart?" He checks in as he nears the juncture of your thighs, his beard brushing the sensitive skin there, "Can I take these off?" He adds, and you hum in the affirmative as his dark eyes meet yours and he smiles. "Been just dyin' to taste you..." You flush with heat at his purred confession and lift your hips as he hooks his fingers around the waistband so he can pull your underwear down. He kisses your mound softly when he returns, taking his time.

"Anytime you want me to stop," he says before lightly kissing your clit and you let out a shuddered breath. "You just tell me baby, okay?" You nod and moan out loud when he begins to lap his tongue right between your glistening folds. You know you'll never want him to stop.

Your body writhes as he continues with wide slow licks between your thighs, relaxing as it's clear he more than knows what he's doing. You whimper, jolting unexpectedly as he begins flicking the hardened tip of his tongue over your clit before softening it again and repeating, swirling, sucking and worshiping your almost steadily dripping cunt like it's a fountain in the desert. When your thighs press in bracketing his head at a particularly sensitive touch, he wraps his big paws around you, fingers greedily switching between kneading the soft flesh of your legs and cupping around your ass as he devours you.

The hair of his beard rubs against your skin and the sensation is addictive. You move your hips against his rhythm and he reaches up to take one of your hands that is currently fisting in the sheets to position it on his head, to make you grab his hair and show him exactly what you want.

You gasp as he very quickly and easily hits a pressure and tempo that has you arching your back right off the mattress. Frank groans as you guide him, squeezing your legs around him almost rutting against his face, moaning so deep into your pussy you can feel the vibrations go through you. And just like that every focused movement he makes brings you further pleasure, taking you higher and higher, and seeing and feeling your reaction just keeps him going.

"Attagirl," he praises, briefly raising his head to look at you. Your juices shine on his lips, spread all around his mouth and wetting some of his beard. The sight just makes him look even hotter to you.

"Frank- mmn! God that's so good, please don't stop…"

He would never, diving right back between your quivering thighs and working you up to and over the edge like it's his only purpose. He can't help himself, you're so fucking sexy like this he's almost humping the bed trying to ease the throbbing need that's barely contained in his jeans. He might have thought about you like this before, how you'd sound, how you'd look, but nothing has prepared him for the reality.

He groans long and low as you clamp your legs hard to his head, you're trying not to but you can't stop your hips from rising, can't help fucking yourself hard against his face, but he wants it, encouraging you until your orgasm explodes from within. The intensity shakes you from your very core, rippling through your body in multiple waves as Frank still holds you firmly to him, licking you through it devotedly as he ruts his own hips into the mattress with another sexy moan. He slows down as he feels your tight grip in his hair easing off, his now near-black eyes meeting yours as he pants and licks his lips.

"You okay there darlin'?" His question is sincere but you almost snort with laughter with how fucking good he's made you feel. He can't be real.

"I'm-" you giggle and throw your arm up over your face as you feel nothing but euphoria.

"god, I'm… yeah, yeah I'm okay! Oh… shit. Wow!"

He grins and wipes his face on the sheets before crawling up the bed to lie next to you, and you turn on your side to face him, drawing him into a kiss as you reach for his pants for a second time.

He catches your hands yet again, shaking his head apologetically. "Uh, it was kinda 'oh shit wow' f'me too y'know? It's… been a while."

It takes you a brain-melted second to get his meaning and then a satisfied smile spreads across your lips. "Frankie, you know that's hot, right?"

He laughs falling back on the sheets, a slight blush dusting his cheekbones. "Hmm I dunno bout that, kinda feel like a teenager again, but as long as you're satisfied for now darlin'."

"I think that'll keep me going for a long while!"

"Not too long though, yeah?" Frank turns his head to look your way and try to gauge your meaning, the faintest hint of concern in his tone. This wasn't a one time thing right? It didn't feel like it was.

The corners of your mouth hook upward yet again. "Definitely not too long." you assure him.

Your eyes track up to the large skylight in the roof above the bed as you catch your breath back, watching the moody, inky clouds gently rolling past.

"Must be a fantastic view of the stars when it's clear." You muse, still gazing up as you feel the warmth of Frank's hand slide over your stomach to hold you close to him in the afterglow.

He follows the line of your sight. "Yeah, it was a pain in the ass to install but worth it for sure."

You turn in his arms to face him. "You put that in yourself? Wow, that's something."

He gives a shrug. "Well I always planned for it when I built the place."

You're incredulous. "What? You built this place?!"

Frank just chuckles, smoothing a couple of stray strands of hair out of your face.

"Yeah, haven't always been a ranger. Used to do logging, bit of carpentry. Just thought how hard can it be? Had the idea in my head for a good long while before I had the means and the land to make it happen."

"Frank Castle… I'm officially stunned. That's incredible!" He has the audacity to shrug again like it's nothing and then laughs out loud as he watches your brows draw together.

"Hey, I'm serious! That kinda skill, that's rare. And, I guess it explains this…" you run your fingers over his large biceps, giving them a quick squeeze before smoothing them over his chest.

He hums. "Yeah, only some of it, have to thank the gym for the rest."

You grin as he pushes up on an elbow, leaning his head on his hand as he traces slightly ticklish patterns over your skin as he regards you as if you're a goddess.

"And what about all this darlin'? What about you? You're somethin' special."

You shake your head but he's determined to make his feelings known to you.

"M'serious. Y'know I was totally shittin' it thinking about askin' you here, askin' you out? Was too damn scared you might not say yes."

You can't imagine Frank being scared of much, and you don't know how you could ever say no. Even before the sex.

"Well, I did say yes," you point out as you lean over to kiss him. He still tastes of you and the memory of the intimacy you'd shared is fresh in your mind. "...and I'm really glad that I did."

"Hm, well I better give the dogs their dinners," Frank muses as he strokes at your side, "and make ours too I guess..." he adds with a smile as your stomach chooses that moment to grumble loudly.

"Oh, yeah, I didn't think I was that hungry until you mentioned dinner!"

Frank grins as he pushes himself up, grabbing a couple of clean towels from the cupboard near the bed. "Alright, m'gonna clean up real quick and make us somethin'. If you wanna have a long shower while I cook you go right on ahead darlin', there's plenty of hot water."

You smile as you stretch out under his ridiculously comfortable covers, watching his gorgeous ass disappearing into the bathroom as you call after him. "I'm loving the sound of that idea!"

#frank castle x female reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle smut #beardthalbash2023 #beardthalbash

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