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wlwcatalogue · 11 months

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Yuri Subtext (?) Anime List

A supplement to my earlier yuri anime masterlist, this list covers anime which aren’t marketed as yuri but which prominently feature F/F pairs, whether canonical or subtext! Since subtext is so subjective, this post only includes series which I’ve actually watched, and so is by no means intended to be comprehensive.

Also, since the above description would not cover certain series with well-known yuri pairings, I've also included a few "bonus rounds" for the curious (although these are still limited to series I have watched).

At-a-glance list:

Revolutionary Girl Utena (39 episodes + 1 movie, 1997)

NOIR (26 episodes, 2001)

Puella Magi Madoka Magica (12 episodes, 2011)

Haibane Renmei (13 episodes, 2002)

.hack//SIGN (26 episodes, 2002)

Read or Die / R.O.D. the TV (26 episodes, 2003)

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury (24 episodes, 2022)

Black Rock Shooter (8 episodes, 2010)

Izetta: The Last Witch (12 episodes, 2016)

Violet Evergarden: Eternity and the Auto Memory Doll (movie, 2019)

Canaan (13 episodes, 2009)

Ga-Rei: Zero (12 episodes, 2008)

Bonus rounds:

Sailor Moon S3 (38 episodes, 1994) (subtext)

Mai-Hime (26 episodes, 2004) (canon)

Psycho-Pass (41 episodes + 3 movies, 2012) (canon)

My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! (24 episodes + movie, 2020) (canon)

Summaries under the cut!

1. Revolutionary Girl Utena (39 episodes + 1 movie, 1997) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

(Copied from the Yuri Anime Masterlist post, since technically it wasn’t marketed as yuri)

When she was a child, Tenjou Utena (Kawakami Tomoko) was saved by a passerby prince, so she decided that she too wanted to become a prince as an adult. Fast forward to high school, and she hasn’t forgotten that conviction: Utena gets sucked into a series of duels while trying to protect her best friend’s honour. After winning the first duel, she becomes ‘engaged’ to the eccentric “Rose Bride” Himemiya Anthy (Fuchizaki Yuriko), and the two start living together in the same dormitory.

First things first: there are a million content warnings for this series, including implied rape, sexual assault, incest, and homophobia. Although the issues are handled well (in my opinion), it does go to very dark places, so those wanting a light, fun anime to unwind to should look elsewhere. Second, this series is very much a psychological drama utilising the episodic duels as a way of hone in on Utena’s opponents and their stories, so Utena and Anthy’s relationship – though important – is definitely not the focus of the anime. Third, the TV series is limited to hinting at the romantic relationship between Utena and Anthy, not to mention that they spend most of the series being little more than acquaintances rather than actual friends. The movie Adolescence (which can be taken as a retelling or sequel, depending on your perspective) is much more explicit on this front, but also suffers from a significantly shorter runtime and a much more opaque approach to storytelling.

That being said! If you’re okay with all of the above, this series is pretty much essential. The simplistic premise belies a much more complex and nuanced story about gender roles, sexuality, and human relationships and remains one of the smartest anime ever made, over twenty years on.

2. NOIR (26 episodes, 2001) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

The first in anime studio Bee Train’s “girls with guns” trilogy, NOIR follows globetrotting assassin duo Mireille Bouquet (Mitsuishi Kotono) and Yuumura Kirika (Kuwashima Houko) as they partner up to search for Kirika’s missing memories and the truth behind Mireille’s parents’ deaths. The series is pleasingly restrained despite the sensational premise, alternating between “business trips” to far-flung locations and snapshots of the pair’s domestic life in Mireille’s Paris apartment, and devoting more time to the unfolding of the relationship between the prickly Mireille and puppy-like Kirika than to action sequences. I won't say too much due to spoilers, but their relationship numbers among my favorites due to how naturally it is developed throughout and how it is very much at the heart of the series both narratively and thematically.

This is also the first anime soundtrack entirely composed by the legendary Kajiura Yuki, heralding a long collaboration with director Mashimo Kouichi, and her mix of classical and modern sounds provides the perfect accompaniment to NOIR’s atmospheric cityscapes. Also, for fans of Mitsuishi’s work (Sailor Moon! Utena! Evangelion!), I’d say NOIR is a must-watch for her performance alone; her Mireille is brittle and proud, and she brings so much humanity and nuance to the role. In fact, I don’t care if you’re a fan of Mitsuishi or Kajiura or assassins or whatever, please just try the first episode— this anime deserves way more love!

3. Puella Magi Madoka Magica (12 episodes, 2011) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

Puella Magi Madoka Magica opens with ordinary middle school girl Kaname Madoka (Yuuki Aoi) standing in the ruins of her hometown, watching as a lone girl struggles to defend what remains of the city against a much more powerful enemy. A little rabbit-like creature informs Madoka that the girl is sure to lose without her help, and so Madoka decides to become a magical girl right then and there— at which point she wakes up and dismisses it as a strange nightmare. But then that very day, her school receives a new transfer student who looks just like that mysterious girl, and she also finds a hurt animal that closely resembles the rabbit-like creature from her dream. Madoka is then faced with certain questions: do magical girls actually exist, and will she become one herself?

Since Madoka Magica was all the rage back in the early 2010s, I don’t think it too much of a spoiler to say that the cheery first three episodes hide a dark, gritty story which uses the concept of magical girls to explore the tumultuousness of adolescence. The queer subtext only comes in at the end but tight plotting and inventive presentation make this show a quick watch— and if you’re the type who likes queerness in fiction to be intense, world-shakingly significant, and a wee bit problematic, the payoff should be more than enough. A word of warning: there is a movie sequel called Rebellion, but if you’re happy with the ending of the anime, it’s best not to watch it (although I love the movie, myself).

Side note: I won’t go into it too much due to spoilers but if you liked Madoka Magica you might want to check out Serial Experiments Lain – even if most of it is utterly incomprehensible (as it was to me), it’s worth watching until the very end (wink). Also, for the rare fan of Rebellion, Adolescence of Utena is a must-watch if you haven’t checked it out already; so much can be said about its conceptual and aesthetic influences on Rebellion!

4. Haibane Renmei (13 episodes, 2002) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

(Note: slight spoilers about the tone and overall themes of the show – but I think it’s necessary for the purpose of writing a more representative summary.)

Written by ABe Yoshitoshi – character designer of cult classic anime Serial Experiments Lain and author of the very unfinished manga which this show adapts and significantly develops – Haibane Renmei starts off as a light-fantasy slice-of-life anime following freshly-arrived Rakka (Hirohashi Ryou) as she searches for a suitable job in the town of Glie, before transforming into a nuanced exploration of grief and depression about halfway through. To say more would be really too spoilery, but I just want to say that this has probably the most grounded and sensitive depiction of depression I have seen in an anime; it shows that sometimes people struggle even if everyone around them is kind and supportive, but remains hopeful about the healing power of time and understanding. The subtext is between the protagonist and Reki (Noda Junko), the first person she meets, who also helps her get acclimatised to her new life in Glie. Again, I won’t say more, but their relationship really is wonderful. That being said, this show does touch upon suicide and suicidal ideation in the course of discussing these themes, so please steer clear if that is something you are wary of.

5. .hack//SIGN (26 episodes, 2002) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

A standalone spinoff of the .hack PS2 games, this show was the most well-known anime about players getting trapped inside a multiplayer game before Sword Art Online’s arrival in 2012 (ironically, Kajiura Yuki composed the music for both). Rather than being an action-adventure story about a heroic protagonist trying to find a way back to the real world, SIGN stands out as an introspective piece, far more interested in the psychology of those who play online games and the issues of human connection and identity. In fact, the female protagonist is all too happy to remain within the MMORPG as male player-avatar Tsukasa (Saiga Mitsuki) after becoming unable to log out; the story is more about how the player grows to accept the real world with the help of the other players she meets, rather than about figuring out the exit route.

On the F/F side, some way into the series, Tsukasa makes an instant connection with fellow player-character Subaru (Nazuka Kaori) and they soon start spending a lot of time together. I really love their scenes together; the series' masterful use of body language, framing, and music all comes together to create these beautifully tender moments of intimacy. Although there’s no kiss scene nor explicit discussion of dating etc., a lot of the other characters talk about their relationship and perceive it as being romantic, to the point where one gets homophobically “worried” about Subaru when they find out that the player controlling male avatar Tsukasa is female. Tsukasa and Subaru's relationship becomes a lynchpin for both characters' development, and in general is used to illustrate the series' underlying themes in a thoughtful and heartwarming way.

6. Read or Die / R.O.D. the TV (26 episodes, 2003) Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

A spinoff of the Read or Die series which takes more from espionage thrillers and Hong Kong action flicks than shounen anime, R.O.D. the TV takes the unusual approach of starting with its main character - elite paper-maniuplating superspy Yomiko Readman (Miura Rieko) - being nowhere to be seen after burning down the British Library in a dramatic resignation announcement. Instead of focusing on her, or the spy agencies clashing in her absence, the story instead follows her friend Sumiregawa Nenene (Yukino Satsuki), who joins up with a trio of sisters with paper-manipulating powers and criminal connections in her quest to find out what happened to Yomiko. The queerness is mainly implied through Nenene's focus on Yomiko, which is unrequited and sadly fizzles out narratively speaking in the back half. Unfortunately, this is coupled with an increased focus on more heteronormative topics, such as Yomiko's grief over her dead male lover, and the child one of the characters had with the villain of the OVA. That being said, I also want to shout out this series' surprisingly earnest depiction of budding queerness in a young (like, elementary-school young) side character - something that is rare in fiction even now.

7. Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury (24 episodes, 2022) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

The most recent entry on this list by far (the final episode aired just a day ago at time of writing), The Witch from Mercury initially seems to forgo the Gundam franchise’s usual grand scale, being set in an academy run by the corporate giant Benerit Group. Main character and new student Suletta Mercury (Ichinose Kana) - the franchise’s first female protagonist since its beginnings in 1979 - accidentally bumbles her way into fighting a mecha duel, and, when she wins, is shocked to find that she is now engaged to the sole heiress of that self-same corporate giant, her classmate Miorine Rembran (Lynn). So far so Utena, but after the first episode, things start to diverge significantly: though the duels continue, the focus shifts to how big-picture tensions such as the manoeuvring within the Benerit Group and the conflict between the space colonisers and people on Earth play out within the student body, and how the arrival of Suletta and her mysteriously cutting-edge mecha start to shake up the status quo… until things come to an explosive head.

For those who curious about G-Witch due to Suletta and Miorine, but who wouldn’t normally be interested in Gundam or space operas, I’ll just say that if the hype has led you to expect a big queer romance where Suletta and Miorine shout their love from the rooftops, well, that’s not how it goes. It’s a mecha anime first and foremost, after all! But lower your expectations and you may be pleasantly surprised. Season 1 offers plenty to enjoy in terms of Suletta’s earnest attempts to be a good “bridegroom” and the tsundere Miorine’s bouts of jealousy over Suletta. And while their relationship takes a bit of a back seat in Season 2 due to there being So Much going on, it remains one of the key elements of the series and their scenes together are the emotional peaks of the season.

Side note: Some might criticise Gundam for taking so long to have a female main character, but let’s not forget about how the even older Ultraman (1966), Kamen Rider (1971), and Super Sentai (1975) franchises still have not had a single mainline series featuring a female protagonist… Come on guys, I’m dying for a female-led Kamen Rider over here!

8. Black Rock Shooter (8 episodes, 2010) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

One of the two anime inspired by the Hatsune Miku song of the same name, this Okada Mari-penned series hones in on the passionate friendships and jealousies of a group of middle-school girls. In a twist that feels informed by the psychological allegory of the popular Persona games, this interpersonal drama plays out in the surreal battle world of the music video, with the titular Black Rock Shooter being the main character’s alter-ego. Of particular interest is the first half’s focus on the blossoming friendship between protagonist Kuroi Mato (Hanazawa Kana) and her shy classmate Takanashi Yomi (Sawashiro Miyuki), which has strong overtones of two girls developing crushes on each other – it doesn’t go smoothly, but hey, that’s life.

9. Izetta: The Last Witch (12 episodes, 2016) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

Set during what is basically World War 2, Izetta: The Last Witch asks the daring question of “What if a small European country about to be invaded by alternate-history Nazi Germany could fight back with magic… and what if it was (subtextually) yuri?” The show follows politically-minded princess Finé as she and her best friend (read: girlfriend) Izetta think up ways to leverage the latter’s witchy gifts to save the country from invasion – a rare case of a military anime where female characters are significantly involved at the strategic stage. Those who enjoy the classic princess-and-knight trope may find something to like as long as they are fine with Finé and Izetta not having much relationship development (as their dynamic is established from the start) and them not having many one-on-one scenes together (as the series’ main focus is on the political manoeuvring). Note that this show is also pretty heavy on the fanservice – IIRC there was at least one moment of egregious sexualisation per episode.

Side note: those who like Izetta may also want to check out Last Exile: Fam, the Silver Wing, a female-focused dieselpunk anime with a lot of military strategizing and a very cool world setting, though Izetta is better-paced and the main relationship is much more plot-significant. (That being said I do like the relationship between Fam side characters Tatiana and Alistair… Tatiana is probably the adult character with the most screentime in Fam, being the main characters’ commanding officer, and although it’s very background, she has this cutely settled dynamic with former piloting partner turned wife right-hand woman Alistair.)

10. Violet Evergarden: Eternity and the Auto Memory Doll (movie, 2019) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

(Note: this entry’s a slightly weird one, it only covers the first 40 minutes of this movie due to it being basically two episodic stories smushed together into a single package, and only the earlier story is relevant to this list.)

In this standalone spinoff of the Violet Evergarden anime series – itself an adaptation of the light novel series by Akatsuki Kana – the titular protagonist Violet (Ishikawa Yui) takes a break from ghostwriting letters to serve as companion to aloof young noblewoman Isabella York (Kotobuki Minako) in her last months of finishing school. The story is a quiet coming-of-age tale focusing on how the kind (and rather dashing!) Violet helps Isabella to open up, or, in simpler terms, it’s fodder for butler-and-lady fans. Don’t get your hopes up too much, though: Violet learning about her romantic feelings for her deceased male superior is one of the main throughlines of the anime, and this (half of the) movie also ends with a heterosexual arranged marriage for Isabella. That being said, this movie is really a feast for the eyes, its historical-fantasy setting being brought out with beautiful backgrounds and detailed linework, so it’s worth checking out if you don’t mind the very Class S narrative.

Side note: if you want F/F butler-and-lady or princess-and-knight vibes I would really recommend watching Fate/Zero for Saber and Irisviel – yes Irisviel is already married to one of the (male) main characters and yes Saber is absolutely the main love interest for the famously-straight Fate/stay night, but their dynamic is really good and Saber gets to wear a stylish suit and be all chivalrous to a woman… Please watch the third episode of season 1 at least…

11. Canaan (13 episodes, 2009) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

There’s quite a lot going on in Canaan – perhaps unsurprisingly so for a spinoff of the FMV visual novel 428: Shibuya Scramble, which is famous for its intertwined storylines – but in true action-movie blockbuster style, all you really need to know is that the titular mercenary Canaan (Sawashiro Miyuki) is on a hunt for her mentor’s protégé-turned-murderer, and a lot of flashy fighting is involved. Also, there's no need to worry if you haven't played the original game, as Canaan is pretty much a standalone work and all of the significant characters are original to the anime. Yuri-minded viewers may enjoy her clashes with the villain Alphard (Sakamoto Maaya), but the main source of F/F subtext is her relationship with the young photographer Maria (Nanjo Yoshino), for whom she cares deeply and must rescue on multiple occasions. However, do be warned that the one canonically queer character in the show – Alphard’s subordinate Liang Qi (Tanaka Rie), who is fixated on her boss – is handled very badly, being portrayed as a raving predatory lesbian who is mocked, rejected, and finally killed by the object of her affections. Canaan and Maria’s relationship is also framed very definitively as friendship by the end of the series, although they don’t get paired off with male characters. IIRC there’s also some fanservice but I can’t remember the details as it was a long time ago, sorry.

12. Ga-Rei: Zero (12 episodes, 2008) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

Back in the old days, I had heard this show talked about in the same breath as yuri classics such as Kannazuki no Miko and Mai-Hime, and, well, like those series it comes with significant caveats (though thankfully there is no sexual assault). Although it’s a prequel to the Ga-Rei manga by Segawa Hajime, the anime is basically standalone and focuses on original characters Kagura (Chihara Minori) and Yomi (Mizuhara Kaoru), the latter of whom welcomes protagonist Kagura into her family and demon-hunting squad, only to leave the team in a devastating betrayal. After the explosive opening, the series jumps back to explore the events leading up to that point; fans of director Aoki Ei’s work on Fate/Zero should note that the dark tone disappears in the third episode and never quite comes back even when things get serious. Viewers should also keep their F/F expectations in check, since despite the premise I would say the series is more plot- than character-focused, and on top of that a significant amount of time is devoted to Yomi’s relationship with her male fiancé (Yomi and Kagura have more screentime together, but there’s not much development whereas Yomi and her fiancé are given a whole romantic arc). There is one very fanservicey scene between Kagura and Yomi in a car early on (in episode 3?) which viewers may want to skip, but IIRC it’s an outlier and the rest of the series is nowhere near as bad.

Bonus Rounds

1. Sailor Moon S / Season 3 (38 episodes, 1994) (subtext) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

Possibly the most widely-known F/F couple in anime, Haruka and Michiru (Ogata Megumi and Katsuki Masako, respectively), make their first appearance in episode 3 of the third season as mysterious newcomers who refuse to work alongside the Sailor Senshi. Apart from being consistently framed as an ideal couple throughout (they practically cruise to victory in a couple’s contest in episode 5 of S3), they also get some juicy narrative moments, being the main subject of the excellent episodes 17 and 21 – the latter being the mid-season climax. They return in S5 but I haven’t watched that season yet.

Side note: Utena fans may be particularly interested to hear that the aforementioned Haruka-and-Michiru-centric episodes 17 and 21 are helmed by key Utena creatives. Both were written by Enokido Yoji, Utena's lead scriptwriter, while episode 17 was directed by Igarashi Takuya (who storyboarded 5 Utena episodes) and episode 21 was directed by Utena director Ikuhara Kunihiko himself.

2. Mai-Hime (26 episodes, 2004) (canon) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

Way back when, Mai-Hime was very popular among yuri fans for including a canonically queer female character who was in love with another female character… even though, like in Kannazuki no Miko which was broadcast the same year, she commits sexual assault against her. For those still curious, Mai-Hime starts out as a quirky fighting-monsters-and-going to school anime but turns into a battle royale where characters fight each other using robots – the twist being that the robots symbolise their love for the person most precious to them, and if destroyed, that person will die. The queer storyline comes in only in the last quarter or so, but is compellingly told and at least the queer character isn’t quite as maniacal or otherwise demonised compared to some others (looking at you, Liang Qi in Canaan). It's a fun reveal, so I won't spoil it here even if you're likely to have heard of it already.

3. Psycho-Pass (41 episodes + 3 movies, 2012) (canon) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

Psycho-Pass is set in a dystopian world where people are rated on their criminal tendencies; the main characters’ job as police officers is to arrest those whose tendencies exceed a certain level. The F/F is canon but very, very background; one of the surprise twists of the finale is that forensics expert Karanomori Shion (Sawashiro Miyuki), whose appearance screams “sexy doctor character” but is played with surprising warmth by Sawashiro, is actually in a relationship with seemingly aloof field officer Kunizuka Yayoi (Itou Shizuka). I only watched the first season and so can’t comment on the rest, but apparently they are still in a relationship in the third season.

4. My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! (24 episodes + movie, 2020) (canon) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

An adaptation of Yamaguchi Satoru’s popular light novel series, this show headed the wave of reincarnated-villainess isekai, focusing on the bumbling Catarina Claes (Uchida Maaya) – in actuality an otaku who has been reincarnated into an otome game – as she tries desperately to remove her character’s image as a villainess and thereby inadvertently attracts the attentions of many a suitor. Among this reverse harem are three female characters Maria Campbell (Hayami Saori), Mary Hunt (Okasaki Miho), and Sophia Ascart (Minase Inori).

While the female suitors’ romantic interest in Catarina is generally not undermined or played as a joke, they are not necessarily treated as equally valid options compared to the male suitors - it doesn't feel like Catarina has a real chance of ending up with any of the female characters. I've heard this starts becoming more obvious in S2 (which I haven't watched), which apparently focuses on Catarina's relationship development with one particular male suitor compared to the others. Also, the VN spinoff had 6 routes in total (all 4 male suitors + 2 original male characters) but did not include a single female route, despite being non-canon in nature.

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jazzyoranges · 7 months

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Afternoons - drabble

Jenna Ortega x gn!reader

Summary: you miss Jenna terribly

Words: 0.5k

A/n: technically part two of Mornings, but can be read as it’s own drabble. there’ll be a third part soon :)

Mornings | Afternoons | Nights

You miss hanging out with Jenna everyday.

Your weeks were always filled with cute little dates and fun little kisses. Ever since she’s had to move to the big apple for work, you’ve missed her touch for a solid 6 months.

Afternoons were the especially boring. Nobody to hang out with due to their work, so you’re stuck at home contemplating the meaning of life on the rug of your living room. You felt like the kid from Home Alone.

Everything felt dull without her. Any other day you’d kill for a resting day just watching movies with Jenna, but the weeks just felt empty without her.

Sure, you were busy with your own career as a musician, but Jenna’s absence has caused quite the halt in your song-writing abilities. There were a few ideas floating around in your head here and there, but nothing’s felt right about them.

Lyrics that lacked meaning, and songs that lacked lyrics. It was a cycle. Write, crumble it up, cry over missing your super cool and cute girlfriend (required), and repeat the process until you realize it’s maybe better to draft on a laptop than killing an entire forest of trees.

Groaning with disappointment, you just wanted to hear Jenna’s voice again. Luckily your phone only rings for a few seconds before being picked up on the other end. You’d be deprived of your girlfriend no longer!

Jenna picks up, and she’s doing her nighttime skincare routine before giving you a virtual kiss over the phone

“I missed you so much, Jennnn~” You pout, and your girlfriend can only laugh

“We called like, yesterday, babe”

“I’m failing to see your point”

“I missed you a bunch, today. More than usual”

“You mean I’m not on your mind 24/7, Ortega?” Feigning anger, Jenna rolls her eyes

“I gotta have room for other things, love. Don’t worry, you take up all the extra space”

“Like cytoplasm!”

“What.”

“Cytoplasm. Holds all the organelles together” You say like it’s the most obvious thing ever

“Sure if it makes you feel better, you’re the cytoplasm that holds all my thoughts together” Jenna doesn’t miss how your eyes sparkle. She liked indulging in your interests

“Wow, that was poetic.” You sit in your chair, a little giddy at her compliment. Your girlfriend always knew how to do that

“Maybe you should start writing all my songs”

“Like that one guy from Coco? Absolutely not.”

“Awh, why not? We’d be so good!”

“I’ve seen the movie, babe. You kill me for my amazing songs and take all the credit”

“Please, that doesn’t sound like something I’d do”

“Mhm, if it helps you sleep better at night” Jenna rolls her eyes again, and you can’t help but laugh

“Anyways, I gotta sleep now. Night-night, love.” Jenna kisses you virtually again, and you swear there’s phantom kisses on your forehead

“Goodnight, babe. Love you”

“Love you more” Your girlfriend quickly responds before hanging up

Unbeknownst to her, you’d have the last laugh soon enough

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna x y/n #jenna x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x gn!reader

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januaryembrs · 1 year

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LAST KNIGHT IN SOHO | Steven Grant x Reader [1]

description: Steven finds his life slowly turning upside down when the man in the mirror starts talking back, he's sleepwalking all the way to the Alps, and the woman he's besotted with from work finds herself more caught up in all of it than he'd ever wanted. [Last Night in Soho inspired]

word count: 11.1k

trigger warnings: gore, blood, swearing, reader has a dark past that will be explored more read at discretion, third person & no use of Y/N, death, reader will become an avatar eventually,

main masterlist | series masterlist

Authors note: I have been in love with this show since I watched it and have finally started the fic I’ve been wanting to since it came out! The chapters are going to be long and readers backstory is dark but this is a piece very personal to me and I hope you enjoy!!!

She felt someone picking up her limp body. The museum lights had long since been shut off, but through the darkness of the exhibition she caught a tall figure standing over her. Her lids were heavy, vision bleary, yet she blinked a few times to try and straighten her mind that still felt like it was pulsing stiffly in her tight skull. Her voice was no better, the only sound she could let out was a guttural whine as the stranger pressed hard on the three deep lacerations on her abdomen that were now gushing blood like a scene from a 90s slasher movie.

They were broad, blocking out the minimal slither of light as they crouched over her and seemed to be yelling something. Probably scolding her for getting copious amounts of thick blood over the freshly mopped floors, she thought numbly. The sound came to her in something akin to static, a muffled string of nonsense. All she knew was they were talking loud and fast. Or maybe she had a concussion too? That thing had thrown her through that glass wall pretty hard.

She couldn’t see a mouth moving, nor could she actually see their face, just two beams of white blinking down at her.

This couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be happening for real. She thought maybe someone had slipped something in her drink when she was at the club, but that was two days ago. There would be no reason for her to be feeling the effects only just now. And when she had been jumped on by one of those things she’d sure as hell felt it. She'd seen it with her own two eyes the way her clothes had been ripped as something plunged its claws deep into her, heard the air whoosh out her lungs as it hurled her through the partition wall.

She’d felt, still felt, the open wound seeping so harshly that she knew it was going to be fatal.

There was no coming back from whatever fever dream this was.

She blinked again up at the mystery guy who seemed to be holding her heavy head gently, but the hot, red wetness on his hands that smeared on her cheek said he also knew how fucked she was. He was muttering something, was there someone else here? Oh god, where was Steven?

“Stev-” Came her broken murmur, but the metallic taste crawling its way up her throat cut her off as a blob of viscid blood rolled down her chin.

“He’s here, he’s okay. It’s gonna be okay,” Said the voice back to her, his grasp on her hair tightening as she garbled. The breath, life, was leaving her now. Every time she tried to get air into her lungs, she was met with more of the thick liquid spraying into her mouth, her chest retching for oxygen.

She didn’t have long left, she realised numbly.

The room was blackening round the edges even more now, sped up by the way she felt her hands grabbing his arm in a panic. She’d thought she would welcome the cold hands of Death, it wasn’t a stranger in her home. Death rooted himself in her very soul, and yet as it dragged her under consciousness, she couldn’t help but feel like a scared little girl and she tried to cling onto the mystery figure as if he could keep her from Death’s greedy clutches.

It was sweet poetry, knowing she was drowning from the inside out. She had always known her biggest monster lay within her, in her every cell, festering and rotting her, since the moment she was born. There was really no other perfect way to sum up her whole life than it ending this way, choking on her own body. Grabbing onto a stranger, trying to plead for help as a few precious tears wet her face and she realised she was crying. Scared, vulnerable to her own demise like she had always known she would be.

How do you fight off a monster coming from within? You don't. You can’t. So she didn’t.

No amount of soft words or desperate touches on the figure helped her, it only made the departure messier, a bigger pool of blood for them to find her in.

The world felt surprisingly calm the moment she was snatched ruthlessly into Death’s open arms.

FOUR DAYS EARLIER

“Come the fuck on, Steven” Cursing under her breath, she cradled the two disposable cups of coffee tightly, her rosewood coloured lipstick surrounding only one of the lids. The London air whipped her coat around her shins, frigid and unwelcoming as it was even on a good day.

As per usual, Steven was late for work. The two of them had an agreement to meet each other outside the museum every Wednesday and Thursday, which meant his lateness slid in her own time. She could of course just meet the undoubtedly dishevelled man inside, but what kind of a friend would she be then? Leave him to face Donna’s wrath on his own? No, if he was in for a bollocking then so were she.

Friends didn’t exactly come easy to her nowadays, either. So if waiting in the bitterness for another five minutes meant she could keep this one, then so be it.

She had even taken the time on her commute to work to grab him a drink, the thin, black ink on the sticker reading: LATTE, + CARAMEL, -XTRA ESPRESSO SHOT, -XTRA HOT. she had banked on him being late despite the fact she had left him three messages this morning asking if he was awake (he wasn’t) and called him last night before bed to remind him not to sleep in.

A minute or so before she would have figured he was just calling in sick today, she caught sight of a slouched figure dashing off the bus, the grey knitted cardigan belonging to only one person his age in London. His thatch of messy black curls were a next dead give away, as well as the bags under his eyes that never seemed to budge even if he were to sleep two days in a row. Yet, she couldn’t help but smile at the way he seemed to apologise to a flock of pigeons he nearly trampled on in his haste up the many steps leading to their workplace.

“Donna’s going to serve our heads on sticks to scare away rude customers, you know that right?” She said, handing him his drink, now lukewarm, as he nearly crashed into her own body.

“Thanks, Dove,” He said absently as the two of them headed quickly to the entrance, “Yep, I’m aware I’ve buggered us. Bloody weird dreams again,” Steven shook his head as if to rid himself of the odd thoughts. “Sorry though, love. You must be freezing,”

She was freezing, but the way he was quick to worry over her warmed her insides more than she’d care to admit. The nickname crafted just for her, the bird symbolising ‘Quiet innocence’ in Ancient Egypt, as Steven had once told her. Sure enough, the endearing term had stuck quickly, and it warmed her to know she had a special enough place in his life to have a pet name.

It was plain to see just by looking at the twenty-five year old she was smitten with her co-worker. No sane person stands outside in Brittain’s April winds for just a friend. But Steven was different, which she knew was what every naive young girl said about their work crush, but he truly was. Steven had a kindness she had never known someone to offer without wanting anything in return, which he didn’t. He was so sweet to her she understood why he loved the sugary caramel syrup in his coffee so much, she thought often it glazed his every word with a honeyed tone. His face was a blend of a greek god and a lost puppy, a combination she never would have banked on being so damn attractive until she met him.

Even his smell alone of a quiet library, a rain soaked meadow and freshly brewed coffee had her inebriated.

“It’s fine,” The woman reassured as she cut through the main lobby where it was already lively with school kids. A few queued up at the gift shop to pay for their treasures; she smiled when she saw a girl with an Anubis plushie tucked under her arm. “I’m sure she would have found a reason to snap today anyway,”

She adored her job, she really did. Graduating university with a degree in Ancient Languages, working in London’s heart of archeological texts had been a linguist’s version of Broadway. Sure, her talents were beyond soured working in the gift shop, but anything was better than the life she’d fled to get here.

No amount of sneers and dry remarks from Donna could ever drag her kicking and screaming back to that time before she left for Soho.

“What did you dream about this time?” She asked, her black, kitten heels clicking against the freshly polished marble floor.

A ghost of a smile spread across his face, and her eyes couldn’t help but linger on the way his brows lifted, giving away his amusement at his own head. “It was the weirdest thing. I felt like I was flying over London, but not, like, in an aeroplane or anything, like I was flying. Like, me. No wings or anything. Like I’m bloody superman or something.” Steven shook his head again and she gave a small laugh.

“Certainly beats getting the underground. You know, I saw a rat the size of a dachshund this morning, swear on my life. I thought it was about to ask me for spare change,” Steven smiled at his colleague as they entered the Ancient Egypt area. She took a sip of her own hot latte, sweet cinnamon with whipped cream that had long since melted, the liquid already half devoured when she was waiting for him to show up.

“Don’t you ever have dreams like that, then? That feel so ridiculous. It's like, how can my head even come up with it?” Steven asked, and her smile wobbled a little as she saw her manager set her predatory gaze on the two of them. The people pleaser in her wanted to cower at Donna’s furious expression.

In all honesty, she wished for dreams as ludicrous as flying over Piccadilly like a Mary Poppins wannabe. She wished she had Steven’s innocent look on life, that the world around her didn’t terrify her, that it could be as gentle with her as he was.

But that was not real life.

Her dreams were not filled with silly fantasies of flying like heroes. They were filled with dark monsters that looked too much like men to be supernatural, that managed to catch her no matter how many times she ran, begged, screamed. They always caught up to her. Always. Leaving her clawing at the duvet, drenched in sweat and a pulse that could challenge a hummingbird’s.

“Brace yourself,” She ignored his question, muttering the words to him as the blonde came strutting over to them with a daggers look. Ah, Donna. The woman that made her job so joyful, so easy, a delight to be around.

Donna hated her almost as much as she made it clear Steven was on a metaphorical hit list the moment he stepped foot into the museum.

“You pair better have a good explanation,” Donna snapped, dumping a tower of boxes in Steven’s arms.

“Bus times-” Steven said at the same time she came out with:

“Road works-”

They both stopped, hesitating a glance to one another. The blonde looked between them, shaking her head with a furrowed brow and a scornful sigh.

“It’s like tweedledum and tweedledee having you two together,” She muttered, nudging the younger girl towards the stands in the middle of the gift shop, “Dum, you’re stock shelves today, love,” The term didn’t sound nearly as friendly coming from her mouth, nor did it make her chest flutter like it did when Steven said it. It was condescending, rude. Made to make her feel inferior, which it did. She pointed at the man then, shoving a basket of insect themed sweets to him behind the till, “Dee, you’re selling these.”

Donna looked between the two of them one last time, her steely blue glare never wavering, as if checking they could be left alone together without wasting company time, before going to set her unforgiving jaws on some other poor creature.

The girl set her bag behind the counter and got to work organising the merchandise, twisting the ceramic scarabs to all be facing the front.

It was a menial job at best, being stuck stacking shelves as mothers and fathers reached over to inspect the new stock, most of the time messing up the meticulous order she’d put them out in. Kids got their grubby mits all over the glass pyramid paperweights, making her eye twitch since she knew she’d need to polish them up again, only to flash them a smile and ask them kindly if they had the pocket money to pay for it.

They didn’t, kids just liked to fiddle with priceless things and their parents were too busy on their phones to notice.

She was half way through showing two young girls to the sarcophagus themed pencil cases when she caught sight of Dylan at the front counter, leaning in to talk to Steven.

Dylan was a nice woman to work with. She was one of the only people who’d tried to coax conversation out of the greenie the first week she started there, which had been painful for both of them since she had never been known to be sociable. Companionship did not come easy to her and it was only by sheer luck that Steven seemed so similarly awkward in a charming way that she was able to feel comfortable around him.

It was childish really, a silly work crush that she had no intention of ever letting slip. He was too good for her anyway. He was sweet and kind, gentle, innocent. Everything she was not.

Steven Grant deserved someone who could give him the world. Which is why it shouldn’t have come to too much of a stab to the chest when she heard what the two of them were talking about.

“We still on for seven tomorrow?” Dylan asked, her hair falling in those beautiful, tight curls over her shoulder. Dylan was the type who showed up to work every day looking effortlessly gorgeous which clawed at the younger girl more than she cared to acknowledge. She liked Dylan, she really did. She was friendly in a way that was genuine, didn’t have her second guessing whether she meant the compliments she gave to anyone.

Some days she wondered if Dylan pitied her. A plain Jane girl with no family to lean on, trying to make ends meet in a city as extortionate as London and chin deep in university loans. It was enough for any attractive, confident adult woman to kiss their teeth and “Awww”.

The girl watched the two of them, waiting for the teenagers to decide which stationary sets they wanted. They were looking for ‘different but matching’ they had said, not that she was paying much attention to them. Steven’s face was the picture of lost as he stared at the grown woman, seemingly entranced with her face. And she couldn’t blame him. Dylan flashed him a teasing smile, brilliant white teeth poking out from behind her luscious dark lips.

“Seven tomorrow?” He asked, despite nodding happily as if he understood what she was talking about. But his friend didn’t miss the confusion blaring on his face, his eyes as brown as the coffee she’d bought him scrunched up slightly in bewilderment.

“Best steak in town?” Dylan prompted, her smile not faltering though she seemed to also be slightly thrown off that had forgotten.

Their unknowing audience kept her head down, not wanting to watch for a second more of their conversation. She didn’t need a degree to see the way Dylan had leaned in, her body language turned completely towards him as if to tease him with what could come if their date were to go well, her own almond eyes trailing over him with the air of confidence her younger counterpart lacked.

“Oh right, yeah. Yeah,” Steven replied. She could tell he still had no clue what Dylan was talking about.

“Yeah? Okay,” Dylan replied, oblivious to his dilemma, and stepped away from the desk to go tour the new group of school kids waiting in the hallway.

Steven followed her trail hotly before she could leave, “Sorry but,” He stepped towards her to talk a little quieter, almost embarrassed about how forward he was being, “Are you asking me out?”

Dylan stopped, reeling slightly in shock before she wagged a finger to him and chuckled. “You’re funny. I’ll see you then.” She seemed unbothered by his ‘joke’ though she could hear in his own voice he was muddled. The woman walked away with a sultry looking smile, her eyes flicking to her where her other coworker silently arranged the pencil sarcophaguses. “Morning, babe,” She gave the girl a friendly squeeze on the upper arm as she passed. It only made it more difficult to writhe in jealousy knowing the woman he was seeing was downright lovely.

“Morning, Dylan,” She returned the smile, though the bitterness festered inside her. She had no claim over him, and she really couldn’t blame the two of them for gravitating towards one another. Not only was she merely twenty-five, a decade under Steven and Dylan’s thirty-five years, but Dylan was sexy, confident, flirty. Knew what she wanted. She was incredibly smart too, not an airhead like some other people trying to live the big dream in London. Dylan was a tour guide at the British Museum, and what was she? A graduate with a dead degree, pun intended, and a job that could be done by any wannabe walking in here.

Taking a moment to rearrange her feelings, shoving down the way her heart wriggled in her chest as the little green monster worked its way through her veins, pumping disappointment around her body like a drug.

The two young girls seemed to only then decide which pencil boxes they wanted, unbeknownst to her inner turmoil, and she remained silent as she led them over to the till to talk to Steven, more for her own benefit than theirs.

“I didn’t know you’d asked her out,” She said finally, though it came out as a croak, which she cleared from her throat quickly. Steven scanned their items as the girls both fiddled with ten pound notes, the great Queen Elizabeth staring at the woman from their hands as if she even knew how childish she sounded.

“Neither did I,” Steven replied honestly, printing off the receipts for them, “And you would think for a woman like her there’d be no chance I’d forget a date, you know what I mean?”

Ouch. She smiled tightly, waving the younger girls off as they caught up with Dylan’s tour group. The woman of the hour. Of course he’d be elated at the sound of that, what man with eyes wouldn’t? Anyone would count their stars lucky to be given a chance by a temptress like her.

“Must have needed that coffee today after all,” She joked, though she couldn’t bring herself to smile properly, instead finding a middle ground between a grimace and a simper.

Steven chuckled at her, shaking his head. “Must have. What would I ever do without you?” She grinned painfully at him, looking away to try and hide the way her face grew hot at his thoughtless words. “Am I still walking you home tonight?”

Another of their routines. She lived closer to Islington than the lovely apartment Steven had in Whitechapel. Despite paying a lot per month to live so close to the city centre, some areas of London like the borough she lived in was still ridden with some of the highest crime rate in the county. Steven was more thoughtful than anyone she had ever met, a rarity in this place, and on the days they were at work together he would ride the underground home with her before detouring around to his own apartment even further away.

“Uh, no,” She replied, busying herself with unloading one of the boxes Donna had dumped in Steven’s hands earlier. She loved spending time with Steven, loved it so much that she felt guilty of lusting over him without his knowledge, but she couldn’t bear to hear any more about this date that he would no doubt want to pick her brain apart over. He’d want to ask what to wear, how to style his hair, if he should buy her chocolates and flowers even though she already knew he would. And the whole time she’d be hoarse in the throat from holding back the urge to say Date me instead, I’m begging you. “No, I have a date of my own tonight,”

Liar. Liar. Liar.

It was like their monarch Elizabeth was still glaring at her, judging her through her inky lashes and driving the dagger in further at the fact that this kind of behaviour was exactly what made her too immature to be considered for a real date with Steven.

He raised his brows, surprised. It wasn’t uncommon for her to have an occasional fling with a guy every now and then. But none of them really progressed to a date, just a single night of passion to groan over in embarrassment when Steven asked how her weekend went.

“Oh, who’s the lucky guy?” Steven asked, nudging her shoulder in a tone that was nothing but teasing.

“No one, just someone I met on tinder,” She brushed off, the lack of excitement making the man stop trying to pry a smile out of her.

“What’s the matter?” She shrugged at him, not coming up with a response in time. What he took as nerves was in fact guilt and disgust feasting on her insides at the fact she was lying to him. Lying. There was no mystery man, no one coming to save her from this awkward display of what pure jealousy can do to a reasonable person. “You can always cancel if you don’t want to go.”

“I just…” she trailed off, stuck for what to say. He was looking at her with those puppy eyes no grown man should be able to perfect. And yet he was patiently waiting for her to stumble on the right set of words, his entire focus on whatever it was troubling her. That was another thing, for as chatty as a person as Steven was, he was just as good a listener, and she could tell he gave her everything every single time they would talk. “I just don’t know what to wear, is all,”

He seemed content with her answer as his eyes trailed down her body. She squirmed under his gaze but hid it well (not at all) by pulling her cardigan sleeves over her hands and balling her fists to fidget with, “Wear what you’re wearing now,” He said simply, as if it were obvious.

She looked down. A large top and casual jeans did not exactly say date worthy, though she wasn’t sure if there were actual rules to hypothetical dating, seeing as her man was fucking imaginary.

She giggled at him nonetheless, shaking her head, “These are my work clothes, Steven. I can’t go like this.”

“Why not? I think you look lovely,” Steven’s comment was passing, tiny in the scale of things. Yet it sent her heart scrambling for a grip on reality. He was just her friend, complimenting her on her perfectly ordinary clothes. Nothing more.

It wasn’t until she found herself smiling at a set of metal Pharaohs that she realised she needed to get a date for this evening fast. If Dylan and Steven could find someone in this wide city, surely it couldn’t be too hard for her to.

Sound was the first thing that came back to her. The crappy animated kids show she had been watching out of pure boredom last night was still playing after being left on all night. No doubt running up her already high electric bills. The exaggerated, slapstick bangs blared through the speaker. That caught her attention, drawing her into the awake like a fog horn from shore. The midday sun slipped through the open curtains, flicking over her lids and coaxing her to open them. She did so gently, lashes batting over her cheeks as she tried to make sense of where she was.

Her sofa.

The two empty mugs glared back at her from the coffee table, making her eyes wince in confusion. Why was she making tea so late last night?

Then the stench hit her. The smokey yet overwhelmingly powerful smell of a gentleman caller named Jack Daniels wafted up her nose and brought back a panorama of memories flicking through her head; The date. A real date that had been scheduled since Thursday. A completely ordinary blonde named James. The restaurant. Him being almost too charming. Fake laughing at his jokes she had already seen on Twitter weeks ago. Him touching her thigh every chance he could get. Suggesting they go to a club. Dancing. Shots. More dancing. Sharing a beer she pretended not to think was the most horrendous thing she’d ever tasted. More shots. More dancing. Him grabbing her hips. Her waist. Him kissing her neck, cheek, lips. Him grabbing her more, something she would find sleazy if she wasn’t desperate to force Steven out of her intoxicated brain.

Which led to her apartment. The sofa, as classy as it sounded, was seemingly a better option than her bed. She had been quick to shut him down when he suggested moving it to her room; that was too intimate. That was her space, which would only be tainted by this stranger wanting to bend her over. So the sofa it was.

Whiskey served in old mugs she got from the gift shop being chugged for Dutch courage. The same mugs she had bought with Steven as part of a set. They had taken two each, promising that they would be used whenever the other visited.

She had given him Steven’s mug out of spite, even in her vodka riddled brain she was burying her feelings six feet under.

Her hand shot out when she heard her phone buzzing, not wanting it to wake up her actual gentleman caller.

The phone was clumsily brought to her ear, not even bothering to check who was calling before she swiped the green icon.

“Hullo?” It came out a horrible croaky mess and had her coughing the second she’d asked.

“Hi, Dove! Just called to see how your date went.” Steven’s voice blared through the speaker, which only served to have her pulling it away and groaning. “And also to tell you about my dream, I think it was the weirdest one to date!”

“Woah, slow down, Steve-” She tried to say, but the man had clearly a mouthful to tell her and continued on regardless.

“I was in the alps, but it was all so real. There was this group of people taking it in turn to hold hands with this weird American guy, and then I got into a high speed cupcake-van chase with the lot of them because they started saying I’d stolen this little scarab thing from them, I don’t know where I get this stuff from-” Her eyes scrunched together in pain, though she lay in the quiet and tried to gather her bearings. She sat up from the sofa, shivering when she saw it was around midday outside and she had forgotten to close the window.

“Sounds intense,” She mused to keep him talking, pulling a blanket over her still nude body as she stood to close it and preserve the heating. Her head spun as she stood, a rush of bile rising to her throat dangerously, which she choked back down and looked around the room. Quickly realising she was alone in her flat, she shuffled over to the kitchen in her blanket cocoon to find her purse to see how bad the damage her little excursion had done to her limited stash as any responsible youth did after a night out in London.

“It was! I swear it was like I could feel the cars smashing into me- Oh right! How was your date?”

She blanched, head still pounding, “Uh. Yeah it was great.” It was average at best. “He was super funny,” For a Twitter fraud. “So romantic,” If romantic was the new word for ten minutes of missionary and not even making her cum. “He took me wine tasting,” She was sure she’d be tasting the wine she’d bought at the club any second now judging by the way her head spun, “Yeah, he was great,” He wasn’t you, Steven.

“I’m so pleased for you, love!” Her best friend cheered, a part of her writhing in repulsion that she had lied to him again. Though maybe that was the wine begging to make an appearance. She stuck the lever down on the kettle to get the water boiling, sure that a fresh cup of strong tea would be the only thing to pull her through this hangover.

Part of her, the dark, twisted part, wanted him to be jealous. Wanted to make him as frustrated and envious as he had unknowingly made her. But he would never, could never. Steven was tender and good. He was too sweet to ever think a single bitter thought towards her, towards Donna even. Which only served to make her feel even more rotten inside.

“How was your date with Dylan?” She forced herself to ask. It was selfish for her to think, but she wished more than anything for him to tell her that it went horribly. She hated the part of her inside that sang with glee at the idea of him hating his date. She truly was wicked inside, and the idea only reminded her more of why she would never be asked on a date by him. Maybe he could see it too, how sick she was for wanting the world to suffer if she couldn’t have the one man she’d ever truly wanted.

“That’s not until tonight, love, remember?” He said casually, as she fumbled around her kitchen for her handbag. She locked eyes on the little black clutch sitting on top of the counter. Her brows furrowed in confusion, she could have sworn Dylan said they were meeting Friday, two full nights ago. Her heart plummeted, maybe it was a second date.

Ofcourse it was. Ofcourse they hit it off, who wouldn’t. He was as smitten as anything and Dylan wasn’t that kind of woman that was too afraid to tell him exactly what she wanted. If she wanted to see him again, then Steven would give her exactly what she asked for.

“Tonight?” She asked, squeezing the phone between her shoulder and her head as she popped open the clasps to her bag.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t forget a woman like her twice in a row,” Steven joked. But what should have made her gut curdle in pain only fell on deaf ears.

Her purse was gone. Her purse that never left her damn bag, that she had stuffed her rent money in as soon as she’d gotten it was missing.

“I-I’m gonna have to call you back, Steven,” She uttered through the heart sized lump in her throat. Her palms were already clammy with sweat, both from the drink and from her sheer panic, “Good luck on your date,”

“Alright, gators!”

She barely got a chance to murmur their goodbye back before she had thrown her phone down on the plain, white counter and dumped out the contents of her bag.

Hair ties, the odd two pence, a pen she stole from the bank. But no purse.

She turned her coat pockets inside out, the blanket falling down her waist and exposing her round breasts to the cold air. But she couldn’t care less. The goosebumps slithering up her arms did nothing to fight the hot panic as the sofa cushions were thrown off their frame, the young girl still turning up empty handed.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.

This could not be happening. She hadn’t opened her bag all night, even when she got out of the taxi she had her phone readily in her hand and the bag tightly closed. Someone could have taken it in the club, sure, but that made no sense seeing as her bag was definitely still heavy with the wallet when she had gotten home, not near empty like it was now.

Which only meant…

Her date had fucking stolen from her.

“FUCK!” She yelled, throwing her vacant bag across the room with tears brimming her eyes.

It seemed life had been digging a trench underneath Rock Bottom reserved for her at a time like this. And she was left clutching at the muddy walls, trying to drag herself to safety and anywhere that wasn’t her shitty situation where she pined over a man she could never have, where she was still walking the line between sane and whatever else was brewing inside her, fighting against tendrils of hatred and chaos, malignance, that wrapped around her organs and reminded her where she came from, what she was. A life where she got mugged by the men she fucked at her expensive pity parties.

She just hoped Donna wasn’t too hard on her tomorrow after this shit show of a weekend.

“Late, again,” Came the chiding voice the moment she stepped in the building.

Sweat dripped down her back from her long trek through London to get to work. 48 minutes of power walking is what she had been reduced to, unable to get the bus or underground for lack of money.

And she was still late. She was expecting a nice, fat kick to the teeth any time now.

“It’s five minutes, Donna,” You pleaded, yanking an earphone out. Music was the only thing that could block out the thrum of anger and agony she was in from the weekends chaotics.

“Even Stevie-”

“Steven,”

“-Was on time today and he’s the worst for it,” Donna snapped, and the young girl could do nothing but slump in defeat.

“I’m sorry, Donna. It won’t happen again.” She promised. She wasn’t sure if she meant it yet with her lack of transport, but she couldn’t lose this job. She didn’t even know how she was going to pay for this month’s rent let alone catch the bus, breakfast itself had been skipped in an attempt to conserve food. Her stomach ached from the exercise, crying out for anything to fill its distressed cavern. “I got robbed yesterday so I walked,” She murmured, avoiding the blue eyes that had narrowed in on her. She hated feeling pitied, feeling as though people were sorry for her. But it was the truth, and the truth sucked sometimes.

She wasn’t sure what beam of light had shone out of Donna’s ass this morning, or whether she really did look just that pathetic, but the blonde woman just sighed and nudged her towards the gift shop.

In perhaps the nicest tone she’d ever spoken to her, Donna quietly said “Last warning, girl, alright?” The younger woman thanked her quickly, her small voice sheepish. Her boss looked down at her in discontent, “Alright, get going. And you’re on inventory with Steven tonight so best behaviour, I mean it,”

She nodded, turning on her heel to speed towards the gift shop.

Turning from the main lobby to enter the Ancient Egypt exhibits, she’d not gotten halfway there when she’d caught up to Steven seemingly helping a customer. Odd considering the fact he wasn’t even in the shop yet, but knowing Steven he’d probably stopped to chat the guy’s ear off about something he knew too much about to be just a giftshoppist.

She went to wave when he looked up and met her gaze, but the forlorn, scared expression she found there had her already negligent smile drop completely. Steven seemed relieved to see her, too nervous to say anything to the man himself as he stood too close for his comfort.

Her eyes fell to where the stranger held Steven’s hands tightly, murmuring something to him that seemed to have her friend freaked out. The whole sight threw her for a loop, and she called his name on instinct, the new man’s head shooting up to stare at her blankly.

Speeding up her pace, she met the two as Steven pulled away from the stranger’s strong grasp. “Steven, are you okay?” She asked gently, looking from her friend to the lithe figure of the man. He wasn’t tall by any means, but his presence, the way he dressed and held an intricately woven cane seemed meant to make himself superior. His hair was long and greying, still young enough to be attractive but probably a bit older than Steven. A neat sort of scruff sat on his chin, and old blue orbs took her in head to toe where she stood. Not out of lust, but out of intrigue.

“We were just talking, weren’t we, Steven?” The man said calmly, seemingly sizing her up himself. She looked over her shaken friend quickly, the alarm written over his face that had near brought him to tears telling her all she needed to know.

This man was no friend.

“Sorry, I don’t remember asking you,” She snipped in the cold politeness English people all knew how to enact, bringing her friend’s hand into her soft one for reassurance. Steven had never seen her so infuriated. And perhaps it was the weekend she’d had or the way the man so gentle he refused to kill insects seemed to be trembling beneath her hand, she wasn’t sure, but a fierce frown was deep set into her face that dropped into concern the moment she looked back to him, “Are you alright?”

“Can we go, please?” His round, nut brown eyes were soft and welled up as he quietly spoke, as if asking for her permission to be away from here despite being the older of the two. Her heart dropped at his sad expression, and she felt him squeeze her hand as if needing to reassure himself someone was there to save him.

She had no time to note the way the butterflies swelled in her stomach as he did so, focused on getting him away from the strange man.

“Ofcourse,” She said softly, turning to direct him to their little corner of the museum, hoping that the stranger would get the hint and just leave them be.

That seemed short lived when a cold hand wrapped itself around her lower arm, a gasp drawing its way from her lungs. She could feel the panic of being grabbed by the unfamiliar man crawling up her spine, her limbs going numb, her hearing dipping in and out of static at the adrenaline flushing through her system.

She heard Steven say her name as her head snapped to where the man’s strong grip tightened around her wrist. He seemed to stare at her with something calculating, and she wished she hadn’t run her mouth despite the fact she did so to protect the same person who was now behind her, a deeper sense of panic blaring in his eye than before.

“Let go-” Taking a deep breath to overcome the bubbling fear rising in her chest, her only words were cut off by a much clearer voice.

“There is a darkness in you,” The stranger said, as if he knew it for a fact.

Her heart plummeted.

Was it so obvious? No one had ever been able to see it, she buried it so deep in the hopes no one would ever get a glimpse beneath her kind shell. But it was a facade, and even he knew it. The shock must have read clear on her face as he pushed on, as if to reopen scar tissue with his bare hands.

“And chaos, oh there is chaos.” Her lips quirked between her teeth as she tried to stop them from trembling, “A shadow looms over you, little dove.” She felt Steven pull her closer to him, but this man had her every morsel of attention. How did he know, if he knew then surely Steven knew too. Knew she was born so dead she felt she was living a lie by being here. The man laughed to himself, just a small breath but it was enough to break her spirit, “What is it those witches say about Macbeth? Something wicked this way comes.” He asked though he already knew the answer, as if to entrance her with his own spell, “And I see you are truly something wicked.”

Her breath left her chest. The voice escaped her throat. Every intention of protecting Steven had practically evaporated out of her body as her co worker tugged her arm hard enough that the stranger let go of her.

“Leave us alone or I’ll call the police, alright?” Steven murmured with a new sense of courage, “I don’t care if you’re friends with the security here, you leave us alone,”

But the man’s eyes hadn’t left her, as if he knew just how deep his words had struck with her. He wormed his way into her brain even as Steven led her away with a kind hand on her back, his own words of reassurance coming to her as if she were underwater. As if she were being dragged under a current.

“He has no clue what he’s talking about, love. He was trying to get into my head too,” Steven said, but he could tell by the lost look in her eyes it was barely being registered.

“Who the hell was that?” She asked after a moment, the feeling in her fingertips just about awakening once they were far enough away to be considered safe.

“You won’t believe me if I told you-”

“Steven, please,” She begged, looking up at him with a desperation he had never known from her. That man, Harrow, one of the women in the alps had called him, had truly shaken her up with the near omen he had given her.

Steven couldn’t understand why, she was possibly the loveliest girl he had ever met. There was no one who so much as held a torch to her light in Steven’s eyes. She was kind. Gentle. Good. This Harrow had no idea what he was talking about saying she was wicked. She was anything but.

Steven sighed, looking at her gravely. “Remember yesterday when I said I had that dream the other night. When I was in the alps, and those men were chasing me for some scarab I’d stolen,”

She blinked at him emptily. In her defence, her brain had still been riddled with alcohol when he’d been rambling, and she had gotten caught up in her own personal issues since then to take much notice. But the scenario sounded familiar as she wracked her brain for the information, some light sparking in her eyes when it clicked to their phone conversation the day before.

She stayed silent, eyebrows furrowing, “You said that was a dream, Steven. That man is very much real,”

“I know, I thought it was a dream,” Steven explained, “But now they’re here, and they keep saying I’ve got this scarab and what not. I don’t understand any of this, love. I’m sorry. I just know he’s dangerous and we need to stay far away from him,”

The younger woman looked at him sadly. He was clearly in distress himself, and she felt a flash of sympathy run through her at his lost expression, yet his eyes were full of concern for her well being.

She knew what it was like to struggle to know what was real and what was not. What it was like to feel as though you're barely keeping your head above the waters of reality. Yet she trusted Steven would tell her if he knew what was happening.

She knew he was more honest than anyone she’d ever known, so she didn’t push.

“Alright,” She said with a heavy sigh, rubbing her eyes to relieve the pressure building in her frontal lobes, “Alright, let’s just steer clear of him, okay? And if he comes back, we go to the police together.”

Steven seemed relieved, which wasn’t a surprise since he knew it was a big ask to have someone trust such a ludicrous story. Yet he didn’t know why he doubted her. She was loyal and would never dream of ridiculing him like other people might. She just took his word as gospel.

She was too good to him.

“Okay, yeah. Good plan,” He said, nodding and checking behind him to see if the guy was still after them when a smaller body pressed its way into his chest.

She didn’t know why she did it, whether it was for his benefit or hers, but she hugged him. Tightly too, as if she had been holding back for a while (she had). They hugged all the time, when saying goodbye at her train stop, when they saw each other on a morning given they weren’t running late. But it never felt like this, so intimate. So much like she needed him so desperately.

Perhaps it was childish, but the way he drew her closer, resting a head on top of hers as if he needed the contact as much as she did made her heart flutter even with the strange circumstances. For a moment, they both felt safe, like Harrow couldn’t get in their heads entirely because they had each other to ground them, reassure the other that they were not alone in the web his ominous words had spun them into, and that was enough for now.

Yet the two of them barely spoke all day.

Whether it was they were too busy with their actual work, or they were both in their heads thinking just what Harrow had meant by his prophesying.

It wasn’t until inventory was nearly done that she spoke first.

“We’re going to be alright, aren’t we?” She asked, his head cutting to hers from where he was scanning some Beefeater Rubber ducks. He seemed to notice the slight glint of fear in her tone, “As in, they don’t know where you live do they? Or me?”

“No love, of course not,” At least he hoped they didn’t. Steven realistically couldn’t promise anything, he had no idea how far this Harrow’s network of followers ran. But he knew for certain he couldn’t stand to see her so scared. It ran a streak of anger in him that was unusual. Steven never found himself particularly angry, but it had run red hot when he saw the way Harrow had grabbed her and knocked the soul out of her with his words alone. “If you want, you can stay at mine tonight? I’ll take the sofa, you can take my bed,” After he’d swept away the giant ring of sand of course.

She smiled at him finally, maybe the first proper one she’d shown him all day. And he couldn’t help but feel his chest grow lighter that he had done that. Gods be good, she was pretty when she smiled, he thought.

“Thanks, Steven,” She said quietly. He was confident the two of them could figure this out together, and if he was sure of her, then how wicked could she truly be?

She knew it was a cop out, that she hid so much from him that he didn’t know the real her; that if he did he would turn tail and run as far as he could from the monster in front of him. That he would curse himself once he realised Harrow was right; she was polluted down to her marrow.

“I’ve only got this box left to do, love, then we can get out of here,” Steven promised, his eyes flicking over where she collected two half full crates of merchandise and headed out of the gift shop to the stockroom.

“I’ll take these out and meet you in the lobby?” She called over her shoulder, hearing him agree as she walked away to the area meant for employees only.

Sighing deeply, she put the crates down gently, sliding them into a bottom shelf out the way of clumsy feet (most likely her own). A thought jumped in her tired brain, and she was quick to turn out her pockets for any spare change she could use for the train fare back to Steven’s apartment.

Just as she suspected: empty. Because why would she be so lucky as to have anything good happen to her. She could always try and persuade Steven to walk home and save the embarrassment of revealing what actually happened to her Saturday night, but she knew the pitiful look he would give her if she told him the truth of her date. The sad eyes that would flash that neither of them needed after a morning of such anguish.

They didn’t need another of her pity parties today, and she grimaced at the thought of how horrendously the last one ended. Though she knew Steven was different, that he would never do anything so cruel to a stranger let alone herself.

It only made her heart yearn for him more.

Sighing, she thought on her feet as to what to tell him as she left the stockroom, locking the door behind her with the key Donna gave them all a copy of. Her heels rhythmically clicked on the freshly polished floor that reflected her frowning face back at her as if to remind her to stop looking so tormented.

She saw the light of the main exhibit at the end of the darkened hallway, heading towards it at no rush since she figured Steven would likely just about be done himself. Lost in her own head as to what excuse to give the man she called her only friend, she almost missed the deep sound snarling in the shadows behind her.

Whipping her head around with a wide eyed expression, her eyes flicked around the hallway for any glimpse of what made that sound.

But she saw nothing. Not in the way shadows were nothing, dark patches of nothing, as in she saw nothing there. Had anything been lingering behind her, she would have at least caught or heard any movement.

She paused for a second to take another look, only to still come up empty. Her foot warily continued its original path, figuring the sound must have been the cleaners dragging something against the floor.

“Hey, Steven,” She called upon approaching the lobby where he’d be waiting, “Do you reckon I could owe you a coffee for my train fare? It’s just-”

Her voice cut out when she heard the low growl again, much louder this time. Loud enough to have her wince and stop in her tracks in the centre of the room.

She caught sight of the navy blue jacket she knew too well walking backwards slowly, his eyes trained on something in the adjacent corridor.

“Steven-” She whisper yelled, his panicked eyes snapping to hers, “What the hell is that-”

His arm raised out to point at the shadow illuminating the wall. Her gaze fixed on the shadow of a wild dog of sorts, its snout long and open in a fierce grin. She could practically see the outline of the drool dripping from its sharp teeth, at least she hoped it was saliva she thought gravely.

Her breath left her instantly. What the fuck was that? Her knees felt as if they were about to buckle underneath her, calves going numb as the adrenaline flushed over her body in tidal waves. She was always a dog lover, she’d had two as a kid, but something told her whatever kind of beast this was, it was not nearly as friendly as a tamed canine would be.

And it seemed Steven realised it too as he was quick to cower behind a display of an ancient relic clutching his bag to his chest tightly.

His frantic eyes pleaded for her to move, but she seemed frozen to the spot.

The overhead tannoy rang melodically, as if God was preparing to make the announcement that they were truly fucked, something she didn’t need a bulletin to know.

“Steven Grant of the gift shop.” The sound of that familiar voice had her heart plummeting into her gut that twisted painfully. Did this guy have attack dogs or something? How had he gotten them past security? They looked huge. “Give me the scarab and the two of you won’t be torn apart,”

The scarab? Everything Steven had said about his dream was true. And if that was true then that meant this guy was a nut job capable of having his entire team hunt her down for so much as associating with poor Steven who looked as lost as she felt.

The shadow moved, shifting around the corner of the hall to enter the open lobby. A scratch-like sound found her ears, as if someone were running knives over a cold slab, and she realised with a shiver this thing must have claws.

And they were approaching.

An open mouthed growl echoed through the room, which only served to confuse her even more. From the volume alone she knew the thing was big, and in the very same room as her. Which meant she surely should be able to see it as she could see the entire length of the room it had to be walking down.

But that was the thing. There was nothing there.

“Steven,” She whimpered quietly. It was stupid, making that noise and attracting attention to herself. But she was scared. She wanted to know what to do. Wanted comfort that she wasn't going insane, that maybe this was all a practical joke and there really was nothing there.

A second set of razor sharp nails entered the room from the same direction, yet again she could only decipher that on sound alone. The chorus of snarls that only got closer did nothing but have her step back on instinct.

“Steven-” She said again, only to see him standing in a rush.

“RUN!” He yelled, taking off towards the exit.

She didn’t need to see the dogs to know they were in the way of her and the same route Steven had taken, so she settled for scrambling back the way she came. The black heels she wore for work to seem professional only proved to be useless when running from wild animals, it seemed. Who’d have thought it?

Her feet pounded down the maze of exhibits, trying to make it to the exit where Steven had headed towards. But for every one step she took, two paws advanced on her like an apex predator heading for its kill.

Which she no doubt would be.

Turning past the Anubis exhibit her stomach dropped when she heard a strong body colliding with the same wall she had practically skidded past. Her lungs burnt with effort, her breaths coming out in wheezes. She had one last turn and before she would be seconds away from the fire exit that she could barricade from the outside.

The feeling of the dog’s hot breath on the back of her ankles had her pushing herself harder, too scared to look over her shoulder. She was coming up to where the hallway split into two and she headed for the right where she was sure the back exit was. She couldn’t help but wish Steven was able to outrun the mutt on his own heels, having not heard from him since she had taken off in separate directions.

Taking the turning past a remaining chunk of what was once a Cleopatra statue, her eyes adjusted to the dark corridor. Where were the slab paintings of the sphinx? Where were the memorials to King Tut? They should be here, they’re always next to this exit-

Her chest constricted when she realised her mistake. Her grave mistake.

In the panic of escaping the creature, she had taken the wrong turning. She should have gone left.

Yet judging by the way the animal grunted with the effort of the chase, she had no option but forward.

Forward to a dead end. To the Setekh exhibit room.

The walls were alive with paintings recovered from ancient tombs. The god of Storms, among other things, was feared through all of Egypt in the later dynasty. He was associated with all things evil, mysterious and disordered. The huge altar that held the statue of Set, his long face foreboding and as cold as the stone it was preserved in, looked down at her in almost malice as her feet took her into the one place she had left to go.

It wasn’t until she felt the walls surrounding her, the penny dropped how fucked she was. There was no way out, no cutting back the way she came as the creature ran into the vast room with her. Dodging one of the plinths containing statues of the demon god, she had barely a second where her pace slowed down as she considered how she was going to turn back before she felt it.

A force stronger than a freight train hit her from behind. She heard every molecule of air get pushed from her lungs at the sheer weight of it, her throat audibly yelping. Its body collided with hers with a weight that she was sure must be pure muscle, and she was thrown to the hard floor with less effort than a child tossing a ragdoll.

The impact had her ribs rattling in her chest, brain bouncing against her now bleeding forehead. The cold floor was harsh against her raw skin. Her nose made a loud pop as it smashed against the marble, a hot sting erupting over her entire face.

But the worst was yet to come.

There was a moment when she was collecting her thoughts, head spinning from the collision. She was sure she’d damaged something in her skull as it pounded, harder than it ever had with any hangover.

She’d give anything to be back on her sofa feeling sorry for herself.

She hadn’t the time to pick herself back up when she felt something large do it for her. It must have been eight feet tall with how big its behemoth paws were as the one grabbed her leg and dragged her on her stomach towards itself. Like a cat playing with a mouse. Not ready to devour, not yet. Just playing. Torturing. Tormenting.

Then came the claws. Her eyes looked down at her ribs, the thin air surrounding them making her cry out in horror - there still wasn’t a fucking soul in sight. No dog, or animal. Or human even. Nothing. Yet her shirt ripped almost too easily as it let out a deep hiss of what she would call a near laugh and sunk its talons into her side.

That was when she started screaming.

Her throat hurt from the volume alone, a banshee shriek akin to a horror movie. It reverberated through the museum halls, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

Vision started slipping then. Whether it was panic or her mind protecting her from what was coming next she didn’t know, but all she knew was everything felt weightless for a moment.

She thought maybe she was dying and ascending at that moment there and then. But she wasn't so lucky. She was still being made this creature's bitch as the God of chaos watched. What beautifully horrible irony.

It was then that it clicked in her stress-addled brain that she was not in fact weightless. That the reason she felt so was because she was now being suspended midair by the thing that had her in its vicious grasp.

It took shockingly little effort for the creature to throw her through the wall-sized fortified glass surrounding the monolith and for her whole body to crumple to the floor.

Steven slammed the bathroom door shut with a panting “Oh God”, his coffee brown eyes never leaving the thick metal that shook with the weight of the monster throwing itself at it violently.

What the fuck was his next move? What even was that thing? He retreated further into the bathroom with a lost expression, clutching his arms for a semblance of comfort.

“Steven,” The man in the mirror spoke in the same American accent he’d been hearing in his own home.

Looking at his reflection, he was agog to find the man identical to him moving on his own, as if independent from Steven himself. That was not his reflection, he knew that much, no matter how much it looked like it. “Steven, I can save us,” He said darkly, his eyes and frown much meaner than any expression Steven would ever wear.

The way he stood was entirely different too, as if he were bigger in stature despite being encased in the exact same body as Steven was.

“W-What?” Steven whispered, backing away from the door that weakened by the second.

He thought of Dove. Had she been able to get away, run out the front door and get help from anyone who would believe her? He hated the thought of those adorable little heels she wore clattering against the floor, he wouldn’t be surprised if they’d slowed her down. He always heard women complaining about walking in heels let alone running from fucking monsters in them.

Where was she?

“But I can’t have you fightin’ me this time,” He had felt like he’d been playing tug-of-war with his body for some time. But against what, he hadn’t known. His own reflection? This man staring back at him in the mirror with a scowl he knew wasn’t plastered on his own expression? “You need to give me control. You understand?”

He swivelled on his heel to see the man in the full length looking glass behind him, who seemed to tower over him in frame.

“No, what? Control of what? What are you talking about?” Steven bumbled, his eyes looking over the stranger’s shoulder to see the door shaking on its hinges now. Dents were appearing now where the monster was caving its way into the bathroom, and one look at the length of its claws told Steven all he needed to know. He stood no chance against this thing alone.

“That thing’s about to break through the door. We’re out of time.” The man said, realising their predicament as much as he did. This couldn’t be real. This had to be a dream, the lot of it. The entire day. From that Harrow guy to the idea that he could possibly lose her to some ancient wild dog.

“No! No!” Steven cried, flinching as the door clattered one more time, the frame whining with the effort at which it held the assailant at bay.

“All right, hey. Listen to me,” The mirror man tried to reason, but Steven was panicking too much to hear him.

“Dammit, no! Stop it!” Steven slapped himself around the face a few times, begging with anything listening to wake him up from the worst nightmare he’d had yet. The image of her being chased by that thing wouldn’t leave his welled up eyes. He wanted to run to her, god knows he would have if that thing hadn’t been stood in between the two of them, blocking his way to her. “This is not real! You’re not real!”

“This is real. I’m real.” The man spoke calmly, as if a diametrical opposite to his own mood. He seemed to know more about what was happening, what that thing was, what it could do. Perhaps that was why Harrow had been chasing him in the first place.

Either way, Steven didn’t care. Not now at least. When the only person outside of his parents that he had ever held affection for was in danger. Imminent danger.

“No! You’re not,” Steven yelled back at his reflection through tears.

It was then he heard the screaming. A howl of visceral pain enough to rattle his bones at the familiar feminine tone to the voice.

It was her.

It was like nothing he’d ever heard, like an animal in a slaughterhouse. He trembled in his place at the thought. She was in danger. Oh god it had her.

“I’m gonna die- She’s gonna die-” Steven whimpered, the tears rolling down his olive cheeks at the thought. He really was useless.

“Steven, look at me.” He finally listened to his reflection with a pitied sniff, “You’re not gonna die, I can save us. But she is if you don’t give me control right now. Let me save her, okay?”

That was the straw that broke Steven’s resolve, the idea of her dying. He had never found it so easy to concede.

He just hoped the man using his body got to her in time.

She couldn’t see a mouth moving, nor could she actually see their face, just two beams of white blinking down at her.

She’d felt, still felt, the open wound seeping so harshly that she knew it was going to be fatal.

There was no coming back from whatever fever dream this was.

“Steve-” Came her broken murmur, but the metallic taste crawling its way up her throat cut her off as a blob of viscid blood rolled down her chin.

She didn’t have long left, she realised numbly.

How do you fight off a monster coming from within? You don't. You can’t. So she didn’t.

No amount of soft words or desperate touches on the figure helped her, it only made the departure messier, a bigger pool of blood for them to find her in.

The world felt surprisingly calm the moment she was snatched ruthlessly into Death’s open arms.

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anjelicawrites · 1 month

Text

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader x Osferth and all the combinations thereof.

Synopsis: the lovely anon requested OG!Poly either prompt #1 or #8 from this prompt list. I went with #8 and for a University!AU because why not?

Warnings: a dash of angst with a happy ending, kissing, edging, biting, fingering, oral (f receiving), discussion of limits, a bit of demeaning language, p in v sex, anal, titty sucking.

A/N: your request is finally here nonnie! Sorry for the long wait!

NSFW and 18+ only please!

“Spread your legs baby, that’s it… Wider.”

Aemond’s voice is husky in your ears, Osferth’s big hands help you open your legs more, until he can hook them behind his, baring you to your other lover’s burning eye.

This is not how you expected to end your night but it’s definitively a better way than what you’d imagined.

When you started uni, you never expected to find yourself in a three way relationship by the third year, and not with Osferth, the sweetest member of the Tau Lambda Ki fraternity, and Aemond, the brother of the head of the other fraternity, The Beacon.

You three had all the reasons to keep your relationship under wraps, but you never expected Aemond and Osferth to disappear from your life right around graduation. You never hoped whatever you three shared to survive university, but that they would drop you without a word, and Aemond… You don’t want to go there, you don’t want to think about the sweet moments you three had shared, and the filthy ones, and the movies you three watched together, and the songs and…

You abruptly stand up before you start crying and ruin your make up, the chair falling behind you in the haste of your movements,: those two imbeciles don’t want to be in your life anymore? Well, you feel sorry for them! You look so cute in your summer dress and you three could have a last encore, before leaving university: their loss! You’re going to the party all the fraternities have organized and have all the fun you can get, and if you’re hooking up with someone? Even better!

You can feel the thump of the bass in your blood an in your head, it beats with every breath you take and cancels the pain stabbing you when you see all the happy couples kissing around you; not that you, Osferth and Aemond could even think about pulling a stunt like that, but…

Cursing you stomp towards the bar, hellbent in getting drunk; on your way there you see Osferth’s friends in the distance and longing stabs you again. Angry you slam the money on the counter and drink the vodka down in one gulp, the alcohol burning you throat, the peachy taste lost.

You drown two more shots before throwing yourself in the sea of bodies again, swaying following the people around you, skin on skin your body moves around the dance floor, with your eyes closed you don’t see where you’re landing, the alcohol muddling your desire to care.

You feel yourself becoming one with the people around you, their heartbeats yours, your sweat mixing with theirs, their skin brushing on yours as you glide through the crowd, the flash of the strobe lights painting galaxies under your closed eyelids.

You feel hands on your hips, warm and big they glide over the cotton of your dress and you push yourself against the foreign person touching you, your ass moving against their front as you feel them hugging you from behind to pull you backwards some more, until you two are hidden from everyone else.

“Finally found you!” Osferth’s voice is still soft in your ear, even when he has to fight the blast of music deafening all of you. “I’ve missed you, my sweet.”

You tense up immediately and turn around to face him; he’s standing with a big smile on his face, his hands still on your hips.

“You must be kidding me!” You growl, swatting his hands away.

“Why? What happened?”

Without even thinking, you slap the kicked puppy expression off his face and storm away, his voice calling after you.

In a whirlwind you run outside, barely missing a couple of waiters and their trays. You don’t even say you’re sorry, pain and rage blind you, so are the tears welling up in your eyes; you’re not sure if someone has seen you, and you don’t care, you yell at the girl working at the cloakroom to give you back your jeans jacket and start running towards your dorm as soon as she manages.

You realize how stupid you have been when you can hear no sounds around you and see how dark the night is, moonless, the road barely illuminated by the sparse street lights.

The club is in the former manufacturing part of town; while most of the firms have moved away from the area, the buildings are almost all boarded up and closed, giving the neighborhood a creepy atmosphere. You are positive no one is around, but can you be sure, with all the overgrown vegetation where the parking lots used to be? Are small animals causing the sounds you hear around yourself?

Anxious you tighten the lapels of your jacket closed over the neckline of your dress, walking faster when you start to hear footfalls behind you: turning back is not an option anymore and there’s no shuttle bus working on this road. You curse under your breath and start walking faster, curling the strap of your bag around your hand to use it as a weapon as you try to book an Uber: you need to get to the main road, where people are and you can be seen!

The footfalls sound closer to you, dangerously so, and you break into a run when you start seeing the shapes of cars in the distance: you need to get there, it’s not too far away, not too far…

A hand curls around your free wrist and pulls you backwards, out of fear you use the momentum to swing your bag to your assailant's head, screaming like a mad banshee you keep hitting and hitting, until someone else tries to grab your swinging arm and you kick them in the shin, teeth snapping like a rabid dog.

“It’s us! Are you out of your mind???”

“Aemond? Osferth?”

You walk a couple of steps backwards, eyes leveling the two men who are staring at you with their hands raised in front of their chests; you must have hit Aemond, his usually perfect hair is mussed, the eye patch askew on his face.

“What were you two thinking?” You’re screaming with adrenaline and fear still coursing through your veins.

“Why were you running? We couldn’t keep up!” Aemond bites back, angry and hurt.

“I’m all alone in a bloody back road and I head footsteps! What was I supposed to do?” You march until you are face to face with him. “And why do you care now?”

Aemond and Osferth share a perplexed glance and then stare at you owlishly; if you weren’t that angry you’d laugh in their faces.

“We always care?” Osferth approaches you cautiously with his hands still raised.

“Do you?” You whip your head around and Osferth steps back, scared and confused. “You two disappeared on me! Barely responded to my texts. And you Aemond, I know what you’re doing with your professor!”

“You’re jumping to the wrong conclusion.” Aemond answers coldly, his back straightening unintentionally. “You should get a grip on yourself.”

For a second you are too surprised to say anything, to move, even: how dares he?

Your hand connects with his scarred cheek before you can even realize what you’re doing, the only sound you can hear is Osferth’s surprised yelp.

“Go fuck yourself Aemond, better, go fuck your professor. I thought you were better than that!”

You turn around, you feel the tears threatening to fall again and you’re never going to let them see how much it hurts; Osferth’s hand grabs your wrist before you can walk away form them.

“Aemond is acting like an idiot…”

“Hey!”

“… but he would never do that to you, to us.”

“Let me go, now!” Your voice trembles and it’s so hard not to cry.

“Let us explain, sweet beloved.”

“There’s nothing else to say. You two have moved on, I would have appreciated the head’s up.” You sob.

“You’re such an idiot. Sometimes I wonder why I have fallen in love with you.”

Aemond’s words freeze you on the spot: love? When did any of you talked about love?

“You know how hard it is to switch law schools so late in the year?” Aemond adds, trying to keep his own rage under control.

You turn around to look into his eye: now you’re the one confused.

“The reason why we haven’t been able to be more present is that we have been trying to switch to the uni where you’re going to do your teacher training.” Osferth tells you, gently.

“No, wait, what?” You can feel the gears in your brain halt to a stop.

“Alys, Professor Rivers, was helping me with switching law schools and Osferth has managed to get a place in a different Theology School than the one he applied for earlier this year. All to be with you!”

You feel your knees buckle and it’s all thanks to Osferth’s hold on you that you don’t fall on your ass.

“Why didn’t you two tell me?”

“We couldn’t risk getting your hopes up, not without being sure.” Osferth gently cups your cheek.

You let your face fall against Osferth’s chest, shaking with all the violent emotions that have been plaguing you for days and he hugs you tight with one hand, with the other he grabs Aemond so that he can hold you from behind, effectively sandwiching you between them.

“Why are you crying?” Aemond asks against your hair, aren’t you supposed to be happy?

You don’t answer immediately, your brain is still frozen up, all the information hitting your overworked gears: coming with you? Changing schools?

“You said you love me!”

You can feel Osferth’s chest rumble with a laugh he can barely control, behind you Aemond huffs.

“We always had, sweet beloved.” Osferth murmurs against your hair.

“You never expressed it! With words!”

“Did you need us to?” Aemond asks behind you, surprised.

You manage to evade their gentle hold to stare into their surprised faces: for being two guys in your age group, they are pretty smart and make you forget that they are still men, therefore they need to be told to do things, even expressing their feelings.

“Yes, Aemond. How do you expect me to infer that?”

Aemond’s brows knit at your question: wasn’t it implied to all your interactions?

“Why did you think we were with you?” Osferth looks even more perplexed than Aemond is.

“The great sex? We had loads of that.”

“We spent time together, gevie, why would I waste my time watching those awful horror movies, if not because I am in love with you?”

“Because we fucked afterwards. We always did, after any sort of activity we did together. I thought it was the endgame here.”

And it hurt. If you are being honest with yourself, all your couplings with them had been great, the best you ever had, but left you with a sour taste in your mouth when you had started to develop unwanted feelings you believed were unreciprocated. How were you supposed to know? Aemond is intense, but never expresses his feelings outward and Osferth… Osferth goes around a lot: under the cute smile he’s insatiable and very good in bed, he's probably slept with all the sorority members on campus, and some of the fraternity guys as well (you don’t know he’s stopped after the fist time he’s gotten a taste of you). Based on all of this, why would anyone think those two idiots are in love?

“Perhaps we had some communication issues.”

You bark a laugh at that: Osferth wants to become a pastor and being able to communicate is kinda big in that line of work, you have always thought, and he can’t even let you know how he feels about you.

“What’s so funny? I wasn’t joking!”

“I’ll tell you later, Osferth.” You answer.

“What about you? Why didn’t you say it out loud?” Aemond asks, so aggravated you can’t help but laugh again.

“First, what makes you think I am reciprocating your feelings?”

You see the panic under the mask of coldness Aemond always wears: you love when you manage to make him shake in his boots.

“Second, to then see you run away? You don’t say ‘I love you’ to the guys you think are in just for a booty call, you dummy!”

For a second you are afraid he’s going to faint himself, if you have to go by the way his body visibly relaxes, then his pride wins and he grabs you by your arms, forcing you to stumble against him.

“You’re going to pay for that.” The darkness in his voice makes your knees weak.

“And there I thought you were the one who likes it when I get the upper hand.” You growl back, your hands managing to grab his long hair to pull on them.

“Now, now, now.” Osferth hugs you from behind. “Shall we move this somewhere more private?”

“Do you two deserve it? After the stunt you two pulled?” You love fucking with his brain as well.

“We might have planned this wrong…” Aemond starts.

“You did, I wanted to be clear from the get go!”

“Whatever, Osferth. We thought it was a good plan…”

“What he’s trying to say is: we fucked up, please let us make this up to, please?”

You don’t answer immediately, you love that it’s them now marinating into uncertainty.

“And how do you plan do reach your goal?”

Aemond hums, the vibration from his chest travels pleasantly through your body.

“Let us show you once we are somewhere less… open.” He answers.

“You can do better than that, Aemond.”

Purposely you slide up his long body, making sure that your breasts are pushing against the expensive cotton of his shirt; the pupil of his eye devours your movements and you can feel his cock harden against you.

“Bookshop date, on my card.”

“Interesting, but you can do better.”

Osferth snickers behind you, he knows what you're after.

“Sushi at that super expensive place, afterwards.”

“And…?”

Aemond uhms, his eye focused on the cleavage pushing out of the low neckline of your dress.

“Then he drives you somewhere nice and secluded to ravish you on the hood of his car.” Osferth says.

“What? No! Leave Vhagar out of this!”

“Aren’t you tired of standing at the side of the road?”

“Don't think you can get off the hook so easily, mister!” You tell Osferth. “And keep your hands off my tits!”

Osferth’s hands stop their ascent up your ribcage and he makes a sad sound behind you.

“What are you offering?” You ask him.

“I’ll do the packing for you. All your books.”

“Only that?”

Osferth puts his chin on your shoulder, you can imagine how much like a kicked puppy he looks now.

“I’ll wear the vibrating cock ring at the next Mass.” He concedes.

“See, it wasn't that hard.” You turn your head and kiss his cheek. “What about you Aemond? Do we have a deal?”

Aemond's eye falls on Osferth's hands, now cupping your soft breasts: he knows he's gonna fold, but he wishes he’d driven a better bargain.

“You don't hop on Vhagar’s hood with your heels on and I choose the place we go.”

“Fair enough.” You say with a smile. “Let's go home.”

Home is actually Aemond's flat. Like the good old money baby that he is, he doesn't have to live in a dorm or a fraternity, like you and Osferth; having a safe space like that helped you three keep the relationship hidden. You three have christened every surface and furniture, yet getting there makes your heart do somersaults every time.

You don't mind not driving shotgun, when you notice how eager Osferth is to open the passenger door for you; the car is old and sleek but, as all sports cars, doesn't have that much space in the back, for this reason you don't expect Osferth to follow you there and lay on you to start kissing you ferociously, his whole weight keeping you flat on the expensive leather, his hips grounding against the cotton of your panties, the short skirt of your dress bunched around your hips.

“I’m going to have your arse for that!” Comes from the general area of the driving seat.

“Please Aemond, don’t threaten me with the promise of a good time.” Osferth’s voice is muffled by your breasts but the moan he exhales can be heard perfectly.

Aemond doubles down on the gas, smoothly the car rumbles under your body, the vibrations adding to the pleasure of Osferth’s lips sucking on your nipple: you’ve missed his hunger for your body and his need to drive you mad, as much as you did his filthy moans of absolute pleasure at your taste.

“Out!” Aemond barks the second he’s parked Vhagar in the garage of the exclusive building he’s living in.

During the ride up to the highest floor you three have to play it nice, keeping your hands for yourselves, not wanting your effusions to be taped by security; when the door closes behind you three, you know you have nowhere to hide.

Fueled by all the pent up sexual frustration of the past few weeks, and the little show in Vhagar’s back seat, Aemond grabs the hem of your cute dress to roughly pull it off you, his hands go to your ass to pull you up, your legs falling around his trim waist as he kisses you, possessive and hungry, teeth nibbling at your lower lip, cock already hard against the wet patch on your panties.

Aemond throws you on his big bed, his eye focused on the cute matching lingerie set you’re wearing.

“You wanted to get laid.” He growls. “You went to the stupid party to hook up.”

“So what? You two ignored me for so long. I have needs.” You answer, opening your legs for them.

“You naughty little thing.” Osferth’s bare front connects with Aemond’s clothed back. “I think some punishment is in order.”

“Yes, yes it is.” He says, hunger dripping from every word.

You arch your back and slip your fingers under your panties with a long moan: you’re drenched and your clit is puffy already.

“Tell us.” Osferth murmurs in your ear when he sits behind you. “Did you touch yourself?”

“I did. Ah!” You whine when his bigger fingers start teasing your wet hole.

“Did you imagine us?”

“Like hell! I used anyone else but you two! I was angry!”

This earns you a harsh squeeze of your clit and Osferth’s promise to thoroughly punish your cunt when you two are alone.

“Let’s count your offenses.” Aemond’s voice is so low you can barely heard him. “Slapped Osferth then me, pulled that little stunt after our confession… What else? Ah, yes: you were ready to get laid without us and didn’t play with yourself thinking about us.”

“I was angry!” You try to retort.

“That’s the only reason why I am only going to edge you five times and not more: just one for every transgression you did.” Aemond says, calmly.

Before you can say anything, Osferth stops you.

“Do you truly want to risk adding to that? Because I have ideas.”

Oh, the smirk in his voice! You’ll make him pay as soon as possible, for the moment you elect to frown.

“I don’t think this cunt deserves any attention, but I’ve missed your taste too much.” Aemond growls with his hands on your knees, pushing your knees apart to the point where you feel your tendons pull, Osferth’s knees keeping you in position as Aemond darkly murmurs against your clothed pussy.

Aemond’s hands are big on your hips, his fingers grabbing at your skin possessively, least you forget to whom you belong to; he mouths at your clothed center, the friction of the wet cotton on your oversensitive clit and his quick tongue make you arch and whine, seeking the pleasure he so carelessly gives you, only to remove his face with a dirty laugh, when pleasure crests, only to stop abruptly.

You know better than complain, but you can’t help frustrated sound that escapes your lips.

“Thank him, sweet beloved. He’s doing this for you, for your character.” Osferth murmurs in your ear, hotly, his hands under the cups of your bra. “It opens on the front?” He adds, surprised.

“If we hadn’t already decided on five, that would have warranted at least another two missed orgasms, for parading around like a cheap whore ready for the taking.”

Aemond rarely demeans you, but when he does, it stings; if Osferth waren’t pinning you open like a butterfly, you’d curl into yourself, ashamed.

Aemond seems to pick on your feelings and gently kisses your forehead to then drag his lips down your nose and your eyes.

“Shh, gevie, shh. I know you are our good girl, shh. Do you want to show us how good you can be?”

“Yes.” You murmur with your face hidden against the side of Aemond’s neck.

“Are you going to take your punishment and thank Aemond like a good girl?” Osferth soothes you.

“I will. Just…” You hesitate. “Please don’t be mean? I can’t take it, not tonight?”

You put up a brave front, but after weeks of miscommunication you can’t deal with harshness: a wrong word and you’ll start crying. Your boys press you immediately in a tight hug, Osferth from behind, Aemond diving between your splayed legs, until your breathing slows down.

“Are you feeling better? We can stop if you want.” Aemond tells you.

Osferth voices the same feeling: he’s happy to torment you until you can’t physically take it anymore, but not to the expenses of your happiness.

“I want to go on. I want to be your good girl, please?”

“Anything you want, gevie, anything.”

With gentle kisses Aemond’s lips travel up your leg, until he can bury his nose in your drenched cunt and breathe you in: he’s missed you smell and taste, those past few weeks pure hell for him. With a wicked grin he helps you out of your panties and throws them in the general direction of the floor.

“What do you say: when we move together, you’re going to wear no underwear. We’re going to need full access all the time.” Osferth murmurs in your ear.

“Your cunt seems to like the idea.” Aemond says when you clench around nothing.

“Only if I get free access to you two. Turnabout is only fair, ah!”

“You can always have free access to us.” Aemond says with a smile, index finger gently caressing your bud. “Now, let me see how wet you can get.”

Osferth’s hands squeeze your breasts gently, feeling the softness of the skin, his fingers playing with your nipples as Aemond’s long digits explore your depths and curl to find your G spot, massaging it firmly, eye on your face, on your mouth opened to let out harsh breaths and moans. When his thumb finds your clit, it’s almost impossible for you to reign in your orgasm, the pleasure white hot burns your nerves and you have to bite on Osferth’s shoulder to keep a tight rein on your control.

A desperate groan and a whimper-y “Thank you” salute your second missed peak. You whine when Aemond starts sucking on your breasts, as Osferth gently caresses your thighs, helping you to calm down, before his fingers spread your lips again.

They play with your body like a fine tuned instrument. Their hands and mouths bring you up and up, only to curb your pleasure cruelly; you arch under their ministrations, sweat rolling down your skin, slick pouring out of your hole obscenely with every near miss.

By the third almost orgasm you abandon yourself against Osferth; with your eyes closed you’re simply putty in their hands, your body a bundle of nerves responding only to their combined wills: you’ll come when they’ll let you, their praises all you need to feel fulfilled.

“You are our best girl.” Osferth tells you sweetly once they’re finished with you.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to continue tormenting you? Go on all night?” Aemond asks with a wicked smirk on his face.

“Please.” You sound broken and miserable. “Please I need you two so much! No more teasing!”

“Shh my love. There’s no need to cry. Shh, anything you want.” Osferth says, squeezing you as tight as he can.

Your breath is still ragged when they lay you on the bed; they caress your skin with gentle strokes and leave small kisses on your face and neck until you laugh and squirm under them.

Osferth’s body covers yours, his warmth safe, the smell of his hair familiar in your nose as he nuzzles your neck; he moans when Aemond pours lube on his hole before start scissoring him gently, while you grind against Osferth’s erection as he tries to move, sandwiched as he is between your wet cunt and Aemond’s curious fingers: he can barely grind follow your movements.

Osferth’s long back arches, he trembles when Aemond’s fingers start touching his prostate lightly, not wanting to let him come too soon: Osferth is so precious when he’s letting go of his control, to just feel the love and desire you and Aemond have towards him.

Your teeth nibble the soft skin of Osferth’s long neck, those small hiccup moans he makes drive you mad: he’s so defenseless and needy, his orgasm so close his hips stutter against yours and he tries to beg when Aemond’s fingers fuck his arse with intent, hard and fast against his tight ring of muscles, making it almost impossible to reign his orgasm in: he wants to come inside of you, but it’s almost too much!

Osferth’s eyes are scrunched closed, his teeth bite his lower lip savagely in the vain attempt to keep a sliver of control against the dual assault: your cunt so wet and inviting, Aemond’s fingers that reach so deep inside of him he’s going mad with pleasure.

He tries to beg, to desperately form the words of his pleasure, all he can manage are those small whines that make your cunt clench and Aemond’s cock swell.

With a firm hand you grab Osferth’s short mop of hair; his lips are bitten raw and there’s tears at the sides of his closed eyes.

“Do you want my cunt? Do you want Aemond to fuck you raw?” You growl, your own need besting your thinning patience. “Say it out loud, I want to hear it!”

You can see the physical strain talking his for Osferth: the way his eyes are glossy with need, how his body contorts with desperation when Aemond starts scissoring again with deep, slow motions and all Osferth can do is open is mouth and babble and moan.

“That will not do, beloved: let me hear you out loud.” Aemond says with a smirk on his face, his fingers stopping their slow movements, just to see how Osferth's body trembles with frustration.

“Please…” He tries. “Fuck… oh God! Me please!”

“With pleasure.” Aemond growls.

Osferth’s body trembles so much that you have to slide a hand between your bodies to grab his erection and help him sink inside of you with a filthy moan; only when he’s bottomed out with a groan, Aemond starts breaching him gently, pouring too much lube on his cock to make sure he’s not harming Osferth, who is moaning and keening as his hips try to push back to follow Aemond’s movements.

The sound Aemond makes when he’s breached Osferth fully is beyond pornographic, carrying the promise of more pleasure; his hands are manacles on the other man’s hips and you don’t even try to suppress your own moans, full as you are, blocked under their combined weights you can’t even try to move, you can only bear the brunt of Aemond’s pushes and pulls, Osferth’s cock fucking against your G spot slowly, sensually, as he begs, his body trembling with the need to move and fuck you to his leisure.

He’s made to follow Aemond’s gentle rhythm inside of himself, those deep pushes that make him keen and beg for more, the same way you’re doing, your cunt massaging him tightly, with filthy, wet sounds that make Osferth shiver with need.

With trembling hands you manage to grab Aemond’s hips to push him fully inside of Osferth and still their movements; they both groan and moan with pleasure.

“Fuck yourself on Aemond’s cock.” You murmur against Osferth’s parted lips. “Show me how much you missed me.”

The desperation on Osferth’s face is clear, he’s holding on shards of control like a drowning man when he sees your lips around his small cross; to move between you two is pleasure and pain, is drowning inside of you and split himself open on Aemond’s raging erection, is to feel all the nerves of his body scream as his mind blanks and blanks and he’s reduced to a mindless animal who just wants pleasure, wants your cunt to strangle his cock and his prostate bullied, until Aemond has to grab his hips again to help him move, to fuck him fast and hard, using him to get the three of you off after weeks without a mere touch: this knowledge shatters Osferth’s fragile sense of self and he comes with a long scream of pleasure, his hips kicking brutally in Aemond’s hold, forcing you over the precipice, your whole body curling to envelope your two lovers, Osferth’s arse a vice so tight Aemond loses control as well and comes, copious, like he hasn’t in weeks.

You three are a trembling mess on the bed, hands searching and caressing, lips kissing all the available skin as your bodies come down from the high, all three having missed each other’s taste and proximity.

“Silly, silly boys. What were you two thinking?” you pant.

“Nothing smart.” Osferth replies, his brain barely managing to string words together.

“About keeping you safe and happy.” Aemond adds.

“Promise me you’ll never pull a stunt like that ever again?”

You can feel their eyes on your body, the desire they still have for you, and for one another.

“Never.” They say at the same time, before sealing their promise with a deep three way kiss that leaves you dizzy.

You three shuffle around the bed until you are between them, loopy with pleasure and happiness, your body slowly recuperating before another round.

You’re not sure who has turned the telly on, not that it matters when you are safe in your lovers’s embrace and finally know what’s the name of the feeling binding you three together: love.

Poly taglist : @fan-goddess, @notyour-valentine, @aegonx

#answered #polyquestion #aemond targaryen x reader x osferth #aemond targaryen x y/n x osferth #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen #osferth x reader #osferth x y/n #osferth

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joelsgreys · 9 months

Text

Talk Tonight l Part 1 (Joel Miller x OC Female Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary: After their flight home is canceled, two complete strangers decide to spend the entire night getting lost together in one of the most beautiful cities in the world—what could go wrong?

Pairing: Pre Outbreak Joel Miller x OFC Camila Mendoza

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Only Minors DNI. NO big age gap, Joel is 35 and Reader is 29. Reader is a mixed woman of color, she is multilingual, although it is written in second person POV (I am terrible at doing third person, sorry) she does come with a name. I also do give her a physical description EXCEPT for her body type (she is shorter than Joel though). Ultimately, if you choose to read this story, you’re more than welcome to read it how you want! If you want to picture her as I write her or as your own—whatever tickles your fancy!

Chapter Warnings/Tags: preface angst (I sorry), we have our girl Sarah, Tommy is a pain in the ass but we love him, airport meet cute, Camila has a physical description, talk of her career and profession, I think that’s about it.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Well, here she is. My lil passion project. It has been kind of nice to write something with zero expectations, not going to lie. No pressure, just straight vibing with this one. This chapter is quite tame, not a whole lot of action yet, but it obviously sets the story up for the good stuff. Tbh, the next chapter is my FAVORITE of the whole series and I almost wish I could skip this part and post that one because when I tell you it is cute, it is so fucking cute lmao. But anyway. I know this series might not gain a ton of traction, but I hope that the few people who DO read this enjoy my OC and grow to love her as much as I have and that you love this story as well. Also I just want to shoutout Doni @morning-star-joy for being so lovely to me and supporting my idea and letting me scream about Camila to her. 🩷

Charles De Gaulle Airport

Paris, France

September 26th, 2002

07:00 Hours

“I beg your pardon?”

Startled by the sound of that rich, deep voice, that heavy Southern drawl that had become so familiar to you over the last nine hours, you lifted your face from your hands and whipped around in your seat; you’d turned so fast that you almost gave yourself whiplash. Your lips parted slightly in surprise when you saw Joel Miller standing there in the aisle with his plane ticket clutched in his hand.

He looked at you, then his dark eyes flickered over to the man sitting next to you. “Sorry I don’t mean to be a bother, but would you mind swappin’ seats with me?” He asked, politely. “I’ve got a good seat up in business class. It’s all yours if you’re willin’ to switch with me.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “What’s the catch?”

Joel shook his head. “There ain’t no catch, sir.”

“There has to be a catch,” he said, suspiciously.

“Ain’t no catch at all. It’s all yours, no extra charge, sir,” he told him, earnestly. “It’s more comfortable; there’s plenty of legroom. There’s also free food, a better selection of movies to watch. Oh and all the complimentary drinks that you can toss back from here to Austin,” Joel added, practically shoving his ticket right under the man’s nose. He hoped it had been enough to tempt him into agreeing to switch with him. “So? What do you say? Can we swap?”

“Well, I say you had me at complimentary drinks,” he remarked with a grin. He stood up, grabbed his carry on bag from the overhead compartment and took the ticket from Joel’s hand. Eagerly, he made his way up the aisle towards the front of the plane.

Dumbfounded, you couldn’t help but stare at Joel, your eyes widening as he slid himself into the seat beside you. “Hi baby,” he greeted you, his lips, soft and warm, brushing against your temple.

“Joel?” You sniffed, quickly dabbing at your damp, swollen eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan. “I’m confused. What in the world are you doing here? Is this even allowed?”

“It’s fine, Mila. I asked one of the flight attendants, she said it was okay so long as he agreed to it.” He put on his seatbelt and glanced over, noticing that your own seatbelt remained unfastened. Reaching over, Joel grabbed the two straps and pulled them around your hips, buckling it for you. He then gave it a firm tug to make sure it was secure. He felt the way you were looking at him and murmured, “Just wanna make sure you’re safe, baby. That’s all.”

“Joel,” You whispered his name thickly. “Seriously, what are you doing back here?”

Joel’s eyes met yours. “If I can get just a few more hours with you, I’m gonna take them. Camila, I will take every last second I can get with you, alright?”

“But—”

You stopped, clamping your mouth shut as a fresh batch of hot tears threatened to spill over.

“C’mere.” He cupped your cheek with his opposite hand and delicately tucked your face into the spot between his neck and his collarbone, soothing you softly, “I’m here, baby. It’s okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

You clutched fistfuls of his denim jacket and clung to him desperately—it was almost as if you’d been clinging onto dear life itself.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Joel promised. “We’re gonna be okay, sweetheart. We’re gonna be okay.”

But that couldn’t have been father from the truth.

You and Joel weren’t going to be okay.

You knew that.

And he did too.

Charles De Gaulle Airport

Paris, France

September 25th, 2002

21:00 Hours

“You’re still in Paris?” Sarah shrieked loudly.

Wincing, Joel pulled his Nokia away from his ear.

She had nearly blown his goddamn eardrum out.

“Please tell me this is some kind of sick joke?”

He sighed heavily, tiredly rubbing at the side of his face with his opposite hand.

He should have known, expected even, that Sarah wouldn’t take the news of his current predicament all too well—she wouldn’t take it well at all.

Joel brought his phone back to his ear. “Sorry, but unfortunately this ain’t a joke, babygirl,” he replied to her after a minute, letting out another sigh. Joel glanced across the crowded airport lounge and he squinted over at the big digital sign hanging above the airline’s counter displaying all the details of his flight home to Austin, Texas. Even after about four hours, it still flashed red, signaling to everyone the flight was still very much delayed due to the harsh weather conditions on the route. Like Joel, several other passengers were growing restless. “We were supposed to take off a few hours ago, but there’s a pretty bad storm on the East Coast—”

Sarah cut him off with a dramatic groan.

“Oh, come on man! Are you fucking serious?”

“Hey now, you had best watch your language!” He chastised his teenaged daughter. “Don’t you think for one second that I ain’t gonna ground your little behind from halfway across the world, missy. I will ground you right from this airport.” He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Christ, I leave you alone with Uncle Tommy for one weekend—”

“Tell me you’ll be home by tomorrow night, dad.”

He could hear the disappointment in her tone.

As if she already knew she would be let down.

Joel couldn’t blame her.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be home,” he admitted. “It’s lookin’ like the flight might get even canceled.”

“But tomorrow’s your birthday!” Sarah cried. “You have to be home for your birthday.” There’s a long, silent pause on her end of the line, but just as Joel was about to ask her if she was still there, she said in a sad, devastated voice, “It was supposed to be a surprise, but Nana and Grandpa are coming into town tomorrow. We planned a big birthday dinner, even ordered a special cake and everything. You’re always working on your birthday, we haven’t had a chance to properly celebrate it together in years.”

Joel’s heart sank, the guilt creeping in. “Sarah, I’m sorry, babygirl—”

“You just can’t be stuck in Paris, dad. You can’t—”

Suddenly, he heard Tommy in the background.

“Wait a damn minute, what did you just say? He’s stuck where, now? You’ve gotta be—here, give me the phone, kiddo.” There’s another long pause and then his younger brother’s voice came on the line. “What the hell do you mean you’re stuck in Paris?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Joel replied, flatly.

“You better be fuckin’ talkin’ about Paris, Texas.”

“Christ, Tommy! Watch your fuckin’ mouth around my daughter,” he hissed, knowing damn good and well that Sarah was standing beside him, listening to him. “I’m stranded at the goddamn airport here in France. I’ve been sittin’ on my ass for hours now just waitin’ around. My flight’s delayed due to that big storm over on the East Coast,” he explained. “I don’t know how long I’m gonna be here since they grounded all air traffic to the States. Nothin’s flyin’ out in that direction right now.”

“Oh c’mon, that can’t be true! Somethin’s gotta be flyin’ out of that airport to the United States. Have you tried switchin’ airlines?”

Annoyed, Joel snorted and rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Tommy, that ain’t how it fuckin’ works, you moron. Nothin’ is flyin’ out in that direction right now,” his voice was firm as he repeated himself. “That really so goddamn fuckin’ hard to understand?”

“Those Europeans put somethin’ in your water?”

“The hell you fuckin’ talkin’ about?”

“‘Cause your ass is crankier than usual, brother.”

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his composure.

Even in his late twenties, Tommy refused to grow the fuck up and it often drove him to his wits end.

“Look, this long distance call is costin’ me a damn fortune, so listen and listen good, ‘cause I ain’t got a whole lot of time left,” Joel snapped. “I need you to do me a real big favor, alright?” Without waiting for a response from his brother, he continued, “It’s Sunday, so I need you to make sure that Sarah got all of her homework done this weekend. But check it for yourself—and don’t let her lie to you, Tommy. She’ll swear to you she did it, even if she didn’t. I’ll also need you to take her to school tomorrow. She can’t be late again. Her homeroom teacher already chewed me out for droppin’ her off after first bell. I need you to get her there before eight o’ clock. Do you think you can handle that for me?”

Tommy clicked his tongue. “Sorry I wasn’t listenin’ to you, what did you just say?”

Joel’s jaw clenched. “Tommy, I swear to Christ—”

He laughed. “I’m just fuckin’ with you, Joel. I got it all handled, okay? Uncle Tommy to the rescue.”

“Uncle Tommy’s a fuckin’ idiot,” Joel mumbled. “It ain’t a joke. Can I trust you to do this for me or do I need to call Mrs Adler and ask her for her help?”

“I’m a little offended,” Tommy scoffed out. “I think I’ve been takin’ real good care of Sarah on my own over these last few days since you’ve been gone. I mean, she’s alive and she’s breathin’ ain’t she?”

“Tommy—”

“Relax, Joel. I’ll check out her homework tonight, I promise. And I’ll get her to school tomorrow, make sure she ain’t late. You can trust me. Alright?”

“Not like I’ve got much of a choice,” he muttered.

“That’s the spirit.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “I’ve gotta go. Tell Sarah I love her and I’ll do my best to make it home on time for that not so surprise special birthday dinner Mama and Pop are comin’ into town for tomorrow night.”

“You got it, big brother.”

Joel ended the call and then shoved his Nokia into the pocket of his faded, black denim jacket.

He had to get back home by tomorrow night.

If he didn’t, Sarah would be absolutely crushed.

He’d spent his last three birthdays working double shifts just to help make ends meet—but ever since he finally got his construction business going with Tommy, the hours had been even more brutal now that it was just the two of them doing big jobs. He swore both to himself and to Sarah he would try to take more time off—for birthdays, holidays, soccer tournaments, dance recitals. To spend more of his time with her.

So far, he hadn’t been able to keep his word.

He felt like a jackass for it, but what could he do?

It wasn’t just about paying the bills anymore.

Sarah would be turning fourteen next year.

In a few years, he’d be putting her through college.

He needed to work to secure her future for her.

Joel sank back into his chair, taking a look around; his dark eyes scanned the lounge with disinterest.

That’s when you caught his attention.

Caught it and held onto it with a vice like grip.

Joel’s throat went dry.

Christ, you were so fucking beautiful.

Dark brown curls, soft skin the color of deep sand.

Your white sundress only accentuated the warmth of your smooth complexion, giving you a glow that was so radiant it knocked the wind from his lungs, making it hard for him to catch an even breath.

You were sitting in the row of chairs opposite his, a couple chairs down. He couldn’t be too sure, but it seemed like you were traveling alone—the chair on your left was empty and the one on your right held your tan leather satchel bag. Your nose was buried deep into a worn out, paperback book and he took notice of the way you would take the ballpoint pen that you had tucked behind your ear, using it to jot down notes on the crinkled, yellowing pages every so often. Then you would put the pen back behind your ear with a the tiniest, satisfied little grin.

Joel swallowed, his throat bobbing harshly.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

You must have felt his stare because you suddenly looked up from your book, meeting his gaze. You’d seemed a bit startled at first, but then flashed him a pleasant, friendly smile.

Embarrassed, Joel quickly turned away from you.

Way to go you fuckin’ idiot, he thought to himself, silently. She probably thinks you’re a damn creep.

He feigned a sudden interest in the airplane that is parked right outside the gate, the very same plane he was supposed to have boarded four hours ago.

“Êtes-vous coincé ici aussi?”

The sweet, feminine voice came from beside him.

Startled, Joel looked to see you’d moved, and now occupied the once empty seat next to him.

“Uh, sorry. I don’t speak French,” he sputtered out nervously.

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that,” You said, making the effortless transition from French to English. “I just assumed, but I shouldn’t have.” Tossing him a soft and apologetic smile, you asked, “So then, you are an American too?” Of course, there was no reason to ask such a question when the answer was quite obvious, but you were trying to get a conversation with him going.

“Yeah.” Joel winced, mentally kicking himself over how curt he’d sounded. “I’m from Texas.”

Your hazel green eyes glimmered with amusement and you flashed him a brilliant smile that made his heart skip a beat or two inside his chest.

“I thought I detected a hint of a Southern drawl.”

“Oh trust me, it ain’t just a hint, darlin’.”

You threw your head back slightly, laughing. “Well, hello there cowboy,” You teased him, playfully. You were even more stunning up close and all he could do was hope that you couldn’t tell how nervous he was underneath the surface—eager to be chatting up a stunning woman like you, but still nervous.

“So what did you ask me just a minute ago?”

“I asked if you’ve been stuck here like me.”

Joel grinned, feeling a little more courageous.

“Ain’t it obvious what flight I’m waitin’ on, angel?”

“Oh very much so, cowboy.” Grinning back at him, you leaned back into your chair and made yourself comfortable. “I’m waiting on that same flight too.”

Joel chuckled. “At this rate we’d get to Austin a lot faster by swimmin’ across the Atlantic.”

“It’s too bad I don’t know how to swim. Otherwise, I’d say let’s get paddling,” You kidded, causing him to laugh again. “How long were you here in Paris?”

“Few days,” he answered. “Buddy of mine married his longtime girlfriend here. I was his best man.”

You wrinkled your nose at him. “Really?”

Amused, he asked, “Somethin’ wrong with that?”

“I mean, getting married in the most romantic city in the entire world? Don’t you think that’s just a bit cliché?”

Joel shrugged. “I suppose it is,” he agreed. “Come to think of it, can’t get more cliché than that. But I couldn’t say no to Wyatt. He’s been my best friend since we were in diapers,” he explained. “He asked me to be his best man. I couldn’t say no to him, no matter how fuckin’ cliché the whole thing was—”

He suddenly stopped, face burning.

“Sorry darlin’,” he apologized, sheepishly. “I should mind my manners. It ain’t polite to curse when I’m in the presence of a lovely lady.”

Your laugh sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.

Waving a hand, you assured him, “It’s totally fine. I don’t it mind at all.”

Joel smiled, angling his body towards you.

His nerves hadn’t disappeared, not completely.

But as the seconds ticked by, he felt more at ease.

Talking to you felt as natural as breathing.

Joel decided to turn the tables. “What about you? How long were you here for?”

“Oh, I wasn’t. I’m actually just here on a layover.”

“From where?”

“Somalia.”

Joel frowned. “I damn near failed geography when I was in high school. You’re gonna have to help me out a little here, darlin’. Where’s Somalia?”

“East Africa.”

“Africa?” His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He had never been into traveling—he preferred to stay put in his bubble in Texas. Flying out to Paris for Wyatt and the wedding had been Joel’s first time leaving the United States. He never had a desire to go and see the world, nor the interest. But he would have been lying if he said you hadn’t piqued his interest with such an unexpected answer. “What were you doin’ down there?”

“Working. I’m a traveling physician.”

Joel’s mouth fell open slightly. “You’re a doctor?”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Is that such a surprise?”

“How old are you?”

“It’s not polite to ask a lady her age,” You smacked his arm playfully. “Don’t you know that?”

He flushed. “Sorry, it’s just—you seem a bit young to be a doctor, that’s all. I wouldn’t have thought.”

Tilting your head to the side, you asked, “Well how old do you think I am, cowboy? And don’t lie to me just to stay in my good graces. I won’t be offended by your guess, I promise.”

“Twenty five?” Joel guessed, honestly. “Or twenty six?”

“You flatter me, but no. I’ll be thirty in December.”

“So tell me, doc. How long were you in Africa?”

“About a month,” You replied. “I was there with my team to visit some of the villages in Somalia to see families in need of basic healthcare. We offer them medicine and supplies, we offer vaccines. I tend to the children, mostly. I specialize in pediatrics.”

Joel couldn’t help but stare at you in awe.

“What?”

“That’s just really impressive,” he admitted. After a minute, he found himself asking, “Now that you’re done workin’ down there, are you goin’ back home to Austin for a while? That where you’re from?”

You shook your head, and he hoped he didn’t look as disappointed as he felt.

“I’m from Laredo,” You said. “But then I moved for college. I did pre-med at The University of Texas in Austin.”

“You visitin’ your old stompin’ grounds?” he joked.

“Something like that.” You giggled. “One of my old professors, he invited me to give a lecture to some of his students who are interested in medicine and might want to pursue careers in the field—I’ll only be in Austin for a day, then it’s off to my next work assignment.”

Joel shot you another incredulous look.

“What? Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“I just figured you’d have to be some old geezer to give a lecture to college students.”

“Nope. You just have to be really good at what you do,” You winked at him. “That’s all.”

Before Joel could say another word, an attendant at the airline counter picked up their radio to make an announcement over the intercom—the flight to Austin had been canceled and all passengers were required to book a new one for the following day.

There was a collective groan in the lounge.

“Well, that’s a bummer,” You let out a tiny sigh and stood up, slinging the long, thick strap of your bag over your shoulder. Turning towards him, you gave him a warm smile. “Thank you for talking to me. It was nice having some company.” Lightly touching his shoulder, you said, “Good luck in getting home tomorrow, cowboy.”

Retracting your hand, you whirled around.

Joel jumped to his feet, ready to stop you.

But it was too late.

With the hustle and bustle of everyone scrambling towards the airline ticket counter, he’d quickly lost you in the massive crowd of people.

Joel craned his neck, searching around for you.

“C’mon,” he muttered. “Where’d you go?”

Finally, after a couple of minutes, Joel spotted you walking away from one of the counters with a new plane ticket in hand.

He didn’t even have to think twice about it.

Making his way through the crowd, Joel rushed to the counter and up to the same blond woman who had assisted you. “That girl who was just here, the one with the dark curly hair,” he said. “Can you tell me which flight she booked?”

The attendant gave him a strange look. “Yes she is on the first flight available to Austin,” she stated in a thick, French accent. “Seven in the morning.”

“I need to be on that flight,” Joel told her. Noticing the hint of annoyance on her face, he added in the most polite tone he could muster, “Please. And I’d like the seat next to hers, if it’s possible.”

She shot him another odd look, but typed away at her keyboard and checked the computer screen.

“My apologies, Monsieur. But the seat next to her has already been booked by another passenger.”

“What ‘bout one close to her, then?” He tried.

“I am afraid the only seats left available are at the very back of the plane or business class.”

Joel sighed. He pulled his wallet out from the back pocket of his jeans and handed her his credit card.

“Fine. I’ll just upgrade to a business class seat.”

The attendant nodded. “Of course, Monsieur.”

Once he was all set, he thanked her and started to make his way through the lounge and towards the exit. He walked outside and took a look around the terminal, his eyebrows pulling together.

He knew the chances of finding you were slim, but he took comfort in knowing that he would see you in the morning on the flight back to Austin.

Until then, he had about nine hours to kill.

“Suppose there’s worse cities to be stuck in,” Joel muttered to himself. Most places had translations, and he figured he could get by on his own alright. The hotel he’d stayed at with the wedding party, it wasn’t too far from the airport—after a drink and a bite to eat, he could book a room for the night and crash until the morning.

He started down the sidewalk, but then stopped—out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of your curls and his stomach fluttered eagerly.

You were standing in line waiting for a cab holding what appeared to be a map in your hands.

Before his mind and body could even try making a connection, he found himself walking over to you.

“Hey there,” Joel greeted as he approached you.

You looked up from your map and beamed at him.

“Hey! Did you manage to get a new flight home?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I did. I’m on the first one out to Austin at seven o’ clock in the mornin’.”

Your smile widened. “I’m on that one too!”

“You don’t say,” Joel said in a nonchalant tone. He didn’t want to admit he already knew that. “Well, if that just ain’t a funny coincidence.” His eyes fell to the map in your hands. “What’cha got there?”

“A map to the city.”

He laughed. “Gonna go sightseein’ or what?”

“I am indeed going sightseeing, actually.”

Joel’s smile faltered. “You serious? At this time?”

“I’ve been to Paris a couple of times before. I have always wanted to see it at night, but never had the guts to do it,” You confessed. “But here I am stuck for the next nine hours, so I suppose tonight is the night I finally do it.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I prefer the term adventurous.” Folding your map, you looked at him. “What about you, cowboy? You have anything planned for your night?”

Joel shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Was gonna go grab a bite to eat and then get a hotel room to crash in.”

He was tempted, oh so tempted, to ask you to join him for a late dinner and drinks—just when he had worked up the courage to go for it, you spoke.

“Did you get to see the city while you were here?”

“I didn’t see much of anythin��,” he admitted. “With the weddin’ and all, I didn’t have the time. It ain’t a big deal, though. I ain’t a big sightseein’ kinda guy to begin with, you know?”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Wait a minute, I just want to make sure I have this straight—you’ve got an entire commitment free night in Paris, and you’re going to spend it cooped up in some hotel room?”

Joel shrugged. “I reckon I am.”

“No way.” You grabbed his arm and started to pull him over towards an available cab. “You’re coming with me tonight.”

“Wait just a minute, darlin’—”

Ignoring him, you continued to drag him along. “It would a crime if you didn’t see this city before you go back home,” You stated, opening the back door to the car. You tried shoving him into the backseat but he caught himself on the roof of the vehicle.

“Whoa, whoa. Hold on there a second, angel,” he said with a chortle. “You’re really just gonna spend a whole night in a foreign city with a complete and total stranger you just met half an hour ago? What if I’m some kinda serial killer?”

You blinked. “Are you a serial killer?”

“Well no I ain’t a serial killer, but my point is—”

“Then we’re fine,” You chirped. “Come on, let’s go. There’s no time to waste.”

Pushing past him, you climbed into the backseat.

“You coming?” You asked over your shoulder.

Joel chuckled, sliding in next to you.

“Guess I am.”

He shut the door behind him—this was happening and yet somehow it didn’t even feel real.

A chance to spend the entire night with you?

It just didn’t feel real to him.

“I’m Camila,” You introduced yourself, extending a hand towards him.

He took your hand, holding it in his.

“Camila,” Joel repeated with a smile. “That’s a real pretty name for a real pretty girl.”

You grinned.

“How about you, cowboy? You got a name?”

“Joel. Joel Miller.”

You gave his hand a squeeze.

“Well Joel Miller, it seems like we aren’t complete and total strangers anymore, are we now?”

His own grin widened. “No, darlin’ I suppose we ain’t.”

#queued to post #fic: talk tonight #joel miller x ofc #joel miller x original character #Joel miller x original female character #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller story #joel miller series #pedro pascal characters

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sargeantposting · 2 months

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A little earlier in the F2 season, we caught up with Williams Racing Academy Driver Logan Sargeant.

Wanting to get to know him just a little bit better, and with a big date in Austin now on the horizon, we tasked him with answering 22 questions about racing and life in general.

Here’s what he had to say…

What race day rituals do you have?

If weekends are going well, I tend to stick with the same underwear for each day. Before you worry, they’re different pairs! I have a Friday, Saturday, Sunday set. But if it’s not going well, I have to make a change!

What's your go-to coffee order?

Latte, but it's a double espresso before quali.

What's the inspiration behind your racing number?

This year it’s six because I can’t choose in F2, but when I am allowed to pick, it would be No3. Three for Dale Earnhardt, an all-out American hero.

Your favourite drink?

I’ve only just turned 21… but it’s water, of course.

If you had to cook one main course to impress a loved one, what would it be?

Oooo… I’m not much of a cook, but I can tell you what I would order in! I love a good prime rib.

What’s your favourite film?

Love the Jump Streets, but I’ve got a lot of time for Step Brothers. But if I had to choose out of the two, I’d go Jump Streets. I suppose I have to choose which one?! But 21 and 22 are both pretty good. Ah, I can’t decide.

Who is the toughest rival you've come up against so far?

It’s got to be the battle in Formula 3 between myself and Oscar Piastri.

Your favourite cheat meal?

Fortunately I have a quick metabolism, so they come relatively often… my American roots mean it would have to be a nice, juicy burger.

How many attempts did it take to pass your driving test?

Just one, which is apparently pretty rare for racing drivers! That’s including the practical and the theory.

Which track are you most looking forward to in 2022?

It’s got to be Monaco, but I’m looking forward to seeing the F1 team in Miami.

You can choose one song only to listen to before a race, what is it?

Lose Yourself - Eminem.

Is there one circuit not on your calendar that you'd love to race at?

Obviously it’s either Miami or Austin; to have a home race would be amazing. That said, I’d love to race at Suzuka some day.

Who is your favourite sports team outside of F1?

Anything Miami! We’re talking Heat, Dolphins, Marlins, Inter Miami… they’ve all got my support.

Least favourite exercise your trainer set for you in the offseason?

I’d say it’s got to be all the extra cardio I had to do to get ready for F2.

What's a better feeling, nailing a quali lap or executing a late overtake?

I saw what Nicky and Alex said to this answer and I have to agree. Nailing a quali lap all day long. It’s my favourite part of a weekend, I love putting it all on the line.

Is there anyone you idolised when growing up?

In racing, my first hero when I was a kid was, funnily enough, Jeff Gordon. I just loved watching him and the way he fought on track.

Favourite sport that's not F1?

At the moment, I’d have to say NFL. But it switches between that and the NBA.

If you could invite anyone in the world to a dinner party, which three people would you choose and why?

I would invite Leo DiCaprio, I feel he’s kind of cool. Then let’s also invite Margot Robbie and Brad Pitt. Let’s make it an A-List movie night!

What is your favourite Grand Prix?

Well, I could be biased and say Austin. I mean, how can you argue against 450,000 fans across the three days last year? That was pretty awesome. But I’ve got to say I love Silverstone as well.

What's been your favourite moment of your career so far?

My rookie race in Macau where I finished third. Definitely, 100%, hands down my favourite track in the world.

One word to describe how you're feeling about the 2022 season?

Confident.

One word that best describes Williams Racing to you?

Supportive.

#logan sargeant #format:clips #year:2022

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lewdlodge · 1 month

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Lately I’ve been thinking about having a phrogger in your house. Originally they meant to stay for just a day or two, but as they watched you glide throughout your house completely carefree in nothing but panties, more sinister thoughts came to their mind:

Normally you stay up late playing video games, and watching your favorite shows. Indulging in a couple beers throughout the night. Oddly, the past few nights you’ve been getting extremely sleepy after just one. At first you think it is just the all nighters finally catching up. But, on the third night, you wake up with your panties gone and a wet spot on the bed.

It’s impossible to explain it though, you just shove it to the back of your mind, and wash the now dirty sheets. The next night arrives and you try your damndest to stay awake. You manage to obtain an extra 30 minutes before you’re completely knocked out. However, this night is different, you slightly wake up a bit in the middle of the night.

The shaking of the bed causes you to try to open your eyes, but they feel too heavy. You manage to get them open just enough to see a shadowy figure hovering over you, but then you fall back asleep. The next morning your head is pounding, and you can’t remember if what you saw was a dream or real. You decide it’s best to shrug it off as another one of the dark fantasies you dream about occasionally.

During the day that dream doesn’t leave your mind. Keeping you in a constant emotional state of fear and neediness. Right before dinner you hear a bang in the ceiling, so loud you thought a tree landed on the house. Getting nervous, you call your guy best friend over, hoping he’ll help you feel safe.

The next night comes around and as usual you’re knocked out early. When you wake up your body is ravaged. Your shirt is ripped open, legs spread, and cum leaking out of you. Naturally, you freak out. “How the hell did I not wake up?”. You look at your “best friend”, blaming him for taking advantage of you in your sleep. The police get involved, arresting him, and allowing you to spend a few nights at the station to feel safe. When you recover from the experience you find yourself back at the house.

It’s terrifying, but you have nowhere else to go. Because of all that’s happened you find yourself drinking more, intoxicated and unable to even stand without a prop. A couple hours pass and you slowly wake up to the sounds of moans in the background. You attempt to reach for the tv remote, assuming it’s just some movie. But, your arm is clung tightly to your back. Your heart begins to pound and suddenly your hangover is cured. Your eyes open and immediately drift to the living room TV in front of you.

You watch intently for a moment, terrified of the realization. “That’s me?” You begin frantically attempting to break out of the restraints you’re placed in. Then you freeze. A creak in the floorboard occurred behind you. “Oh, is my doll finally awake?”

He slowly walks towards you, and you can’t help but jump as each loud footstep slams against the floor. Your mind blanks, and before you know it he has your face firmly in his hand. “Hi beautiful, do you like our movie?” He delivers a kiss to your forehead, and places himself directly behind you, his hands slowly exploring your body.

“I’ve so been looking forward to this, I knew you loved me when you intoxicated yourself last-night. I knew you needed me.” His fingers start to softly rub your clit, and you burst into tears. “P-please. Don’t hurt me.”

He lets out a gasp, “I would never hurt you. I only want to give you pleasure. Look at the movie. See how good you feel.” Suddenly a loud moan of yours comes from the TV. One you never remember screaming. “J-just. Please don’t do this.”, you murmur.

His fingers hasten on your parts. “You’re just being dumb. Here. Let me show you daddy’s love.” His firm dirty hand grips your face, forcing you to watch the TV in front. His other hand never stops rubbing you relentlessly. Unfortunately, it feels good. “Watch”, he commands. Your body is shaking, not feeling strong enough to disobey. “Yes, I’ll watch.”

Previously your eyes would not dare watch the TV. You only listened to the sounds. But, now that there is no choice you begin to question yourself. In the movie you’re doing as your told. Opening your legs and mouth when commanded. Moving your hips into his thrusts. You love it. The tape skips forward a bit, cutting to the night your best-friend took advantage of you. It all clicks in your mind.

You watch intently as this strange man fucks you violently right beside your best friend. He gropes your chest and kisses your lips mere feet away from the person you blamed it all on. The movie ends right as he shoves himself deep inside you, filling you with his cum. You just watched yourself get breed by an unknown man, yet, your parts are even more soaked. His fingers are starting to build you up, and you can’t help yourself. “P-please, can I cum?” He lets out a laugh, kissing and then biting your neck. “Cum, doll.”.

As you let go you feel yourself becoming brainwashed. It feels so good, but his fingers still never stop. You need more and right now he can give it. “What are you princess?”, he whispers. Without hesitation you reply in a monotone voice, “I’m your cum doll daddy. Please, please fill me up.”

He forces you facedown into the floor and fucks your holes until dawn. This time not even giving you the decency of cleaning up. He simply leaves you on the floor covered in filth. This time there is no doubt it’s real. But, how can you be sure? What’s one more night, just to be positive. It may have all been a dream.

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aworldinsideaperson · 6 months

Text

Candy Cane Kisses

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Plus Size!AFAB!Reader

Summary: Candy Cane Kisses takes us to a Texas ranch on Christmas night, Jake “Hangman” Seresin is watching his sister’s best friend from across the room as he nurses the bottle of beer in his hand. His Bambi is somehow more beautiful than she’d been when they met three years prior, the last time they’d seen each other until only two nights before and he wonders if she can still taste him like that candy cane between her lips.

Warnings: 18+, No use of Y/N (Reader is nicknamed Bambi), No happy ending (for now). There is talk of food, relatively explicit talk of sex as well as some pretty graphic foreplay/kissing with the reader being described with vaginal anatomy but the actual smut happens behind closed doors.

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N:

First: This is part of @sailor-aviator’s Christmas Writing Challenge but it is also a companion piece to a longer story/series I’m working on so while there is no happy ending in this piece the overall story, once completed, will have a happy ending. But once again, THIS PIECE DOES NOT HAVE A HAPPY ENDING so read at your own risk.

Second: The smut was supposed to be in the story but I felt like it didn’t need it but if people want to read it separately I might consider finishing it and posting it.

Third and probably most important: Anything you’d like me to tag as warning or in a description or anything please let me know. I haven’t really posted anything longer than a couple hundred words since like 2016 so it’s been a while and I know fandom and fanfiction has changed quite a bit since I’ve been an active member of it so please bear with me while I get my bearings.

Sailor-Aviator’s Christmas Writing Challenge

December 23rd, 2013

Sometimes he replayed that kiss in his head. Sometimes he berated himself for not giving more. Sometimes he imagines pressing his lips to parts of her that he’d never seen. He knew She was older now, they both were, he’d seen the pictures on instagram and facebook, the occasional snapchat with drunk hazy eyes and the same smile she’d had the very first time he’d met her. It’d been more than three years since they’d seen each other in person but even from across a crowded bar with Christmas music blasting and chatter at an all time high, Jake could still hear her laugh and when his eyes shot in the direction of what had once been his favorite sound he knew then and there he was a goner. Even as he makes his way across the room to stand beside her at the bar he knows it’s a mistake but he’s thought about her for three years, and how much hurt could a conversation really do.

“Bambi.” A simple word, a nickname given to her that very first day as she watched the movie for the very first time with tears in her eyes. At the sound her eyes drifted closed, tension leaving her shoulders as she let out a breath before looking over to him with a smile.

A conversation. That’s what he’d told himself. What harm could it do to just say hello, just ask how she was doing, just talk like the old friends they were. It wasn’t until an hour later when he stood inside her bedroom with his hand in her hair and his cock down her throat that he realized maybe his first instinct had been right. Maybe he shouldn’t have followed the sound of her voice, maybe he should have left the bar the second he heard a laugh that made his heart skip, maybe he shouldn’t have come back home at all.

December 24th, 2013

Jake sat on the arm of the couch, his cousin Isaac standing over him gesturing wildly with his unoccupied hand as he recounted a story Jake assumed would be interesting if he could pay attention to anything other than the sound of that laugh from across the room. The cold bottle swung between his fingers nearly empty. If he finished it he’d have to get another, if he went to get another he’d have to walk past her, if he walked past her he was sure she’d smell of that sweet gingerbread lotion she’d slathered on her hands, the same as the night before. He’d have to come face to face with her and that candy cane between her soft lips. He tried not to think about those lips, tried to listen to Isaac talk about the latest ponzi scheme he’d gotten himself involved with, tried not to remember the way her lips felt wrapped around his-

“Dude I’m serious this would be a great investment opportunity! And I know you’ve got some capital, what with that military salary and all.”

Isaac’s eyes were wide with excitement but Jake’s face was contorted in pity as he sighed. “I don’t know Isaac.”

With that his face fell. “Why not man?”

Opening his mouth to give the older man an answer he really didn’t have, except to say that some guy name Brad has Isaac by the balls, Jake was saved by the voice of his mother as she quickly approached the pair.

“Jacob,” She started, laying a hand on his shoulder and looking softly at him, usually a sign she was about to ask for physical labor. “Do you think you could help Bambi bring the rest of the cookies from the basement? We’re running low up here and you know if someone doesn’t go down with her she’s gonna try to carry them all up by herself.”

He sighed but he didn’t argue. “Sure thing Mama,” He stood and clapped his cousin on the shoulder as he walked away. “I’ll catch up with you later Isaac.”

“Okay but seriously think about what I was tellin’ ya.”

With his back turned Jake nodded as he rolled his eyes. “Absolutely.” He knew would absolutely not be thinking about it as he took a few long strides towards the basement door and made his way down the steps.

The Seresin’s basement had never been a place to fear. Finished long before even their first child arrived Jake had always known it as a playroom, a game room, a movie room, whatever his family had needed it to be. He could hear his nieces and nephews to the right of the stairs, no doubt playing with the collection of toys new and old that lived in the too big toy chest in the corner of what could have been a third living room. To his left he could hear the rustling of plastic and clanging of aluminum in what was originally intended to be a second full bar for his dad but his mother had taken over as christmas cookie and bulk grocery storage. Once fully down the steps he could see her then, his back to him as she tried to stack two trays of his mother’s treats on top of one another and he smirked, that was just like her. “I know you’re not trying to carry all those containers up by yourself.” He made his way toward the woman maneuvering the stack to goodies to get the best angle, gently laying his hand on her lower back.

Relaxing at his touch Bambi looked up at Jake with a smile of her own. “I’m an independent woman who only takes one trip, especially with stairs involved.”

“Well as independent as I know you are imagine the hell mama would give me if she knew I let you carry them all up yourself. So will you spare me the wrath?”

Bambi rolled her eyes, replying with a sarcastic chuckle. “Well I suppose I could take pity on you given how well you ate pussy last night.”

The man’s shoulders dropped, “About last night,” He started, the room becoming thick with silence. “It was-“ He couldn’t finish, taking his hand off of Bambi and placing both of them on the counter as he turned from her slightly. He didn’t even know what he should say, didn’t know what the truth was, didn’t know if he should tell the truth even if he knew it.

Bambi nodded and sighed, back straightening as she toyed with the edge of the wrapped cookie trays. “A one time thing, yeah, nothing, I get it and I don’t plan on telling anyone. Not even Mary. She’ll lose her mind if she found out we almost fucked.”

‘Fucked’ the word didn’t feel right. She’d never felt anything like what she felt the night before, memories of his hands and lips trailing over every inch of her body, every square of skin an erogenous zone with his touch. Fucked was something that happened after heated arguments and on couches in frat houses and in the back of cars. She wondered if last night, even though he’d never been inside her, she wondered if that’s what sex was supposed to be like, still making her feel a need for him almost 24 hours after the fact.

“Good. I mean. I just didn’t want to give you the impression that it was more than it was.” He felt sick at his own words. ‘More than what it was’ what was it exactly? Two people who once knew each other, who’d once been friends, giving each other pleasure? No feelings? As if he didn’t still think about her once a day from sharing one single kiss three years prior.

The silence feels heavy around them but continuing to plaster a smile on her face Bambi looks up at her best friend’s brother. “I get it.” She starts. “I’m not a teenager with a crush anymore. You may have been the first person I loved but there have been others since. Other kisses, other blow jobs, other sex partners. There will be others after you too.”

Every muscle in his body was tight as he nodded. “Okay then. It’s all sorted then.” Jake’s stomach churned as he tried not to think of her underneath, on top of, in front of, with other men. He wasn’t neive, he knew last night that the blow job she’d given him had been too good to be the first time she’d done it, someone had instructed her in the past. She knew where she wanted to be kissed and touched and she hadn’t been afraid to move his hands or his mouth or ask for more or less. He knew those things came from experiences. He just hated hearing her say it. Or maybe he hated the thought of after, that there was now an after him. That someone else would touch her and be touched by her and she’d instruct them on how to make her feel the way he had. Make her feel the way he had when he knew no one would ever make him feel the same way she did.

“Yeah, now let’s get these treats up there before people start nibbling on your mom’s gingerbread houses.” With a smile on her face Bambi grabbed the top tray and quickly turned her back to Jake and made her way back upstairs.

She was trapped. Completely and totally trapped. There was no possible way out of the conversation with the man in front of her. She’d tried everything, giving uncomfortable responses, not responding at all, she’d even tried walking away and he’d just followed her. Bambi had met Billy Seresin a few times. He was always too loud and too touchy, he smelled like he smoked 3 packs a day and he never ever shut up. All she had done was give him a polite smile as she was walking past him and into the sitting room, intent on cornering Mary-Ann to pester her about the man who’d shown up to the party as her boyfriend and left 30 minutes prior seemingly losing the title. That had been her plan but of course things hardly seemed to work out the way she expected these last few days especially and nearly 45 minutes later Bambi was sure that if Billy Seresin laid so much as a finger on her again she was going to vomit. But as he raised his hand another slide along her lower back and pulled her closer to him.

“Hey Bill, I’m gonna steal the pretty girl away, hope you don’t mind.” And without waiting for a response Jake led Bambi to the front door, his hand still resting gently on her back.

As they passed the threshold out to the porch her shoulders relaxed as she took in the borderline cold night air. “You are a real hero Jake, if the navy thing doesn’t work out I could whip you up a cape and some spandex, you could go around saving the world from conversations with creeps.” Bambi chuckled as the two settled beside each other on the porch swing, Jake pulling a large blanket from the basket beside them and wrapping it around Bambi’s shoulders.

“Well I’m contractually obligated to the Navy for another few years but afterwards we’ll team up.” His hand rubbed up and down her blanket covered arm a few times before leaning into the back of the swing, his body turned completely towards the woman beside him. “Besides, how was I supposed to let him keep eye fucking you right in front of me.”

“He was not eye fucking me.” Bambi voiced with a roll of her eyes.

“He was,” Jake argued. “I can tell since I’ve done it.”

Turning lifting one knee onto the seat of the swing she turned to completely face Jake. “He’s married to Sarah who’s a fucking dream, no way he’s trying to fuck that up.”

Propping his elbow on the back to their seat, Jake smirked, resting his head on his hand. “You’re way hotter than Sarah.”

“Oh now that’s just a flat lie.” She replied, throwing her head back in laughter.

Lifting his head, Jake let his fingers reach out to slide over a piece of her hair. “I disagree. You’re the hottest woman in any room.” He smirked, giving Bambi an exaggerated wink.

Lulling her head to the side she said his name with a mildly warning tone.

He sighed, throwing his hands up in defense. “Fine I’ll stop saying it. But you can’t make me stop thinking it.” A full genuine smile spread across his face, all the way up to his eyes.

“Sometimes I think you’re too much of a flirt for your own good.” She gave him a gentle shove and her exaggeratedly leaned backwards before sitting up with a laugh.

As the sound of laughter faded Jake admired the woman before him, he’d always thought she was beautiful but the glow of the twinkle lights surrounding the porch made her look ethereal. Even three years later, he’s never gotten over the way he feels around her. For several moments the silence surrounded them, nothing but the light creak of the swing chains and nature. The peacefulness he didn’t expect to be surrounded by was somehow terrifying to him So he filled it. “How’ve you been?”

“Good.” She started, looking at her hands in her lap as she began to pick at the polish. “Mom has been seeing this guy Randy and he’s really nice to her. They’re talking about getting married and moving in together. And Mary bought this new camera and we’re setting up a studio space in the third bedroom of the loft. She’s not sure if she’s going to go back to college with me next fall but I still have plenty of time to convince her.” A soft smile turned up the corners of her lips her eyes still trained toward the fiddling fingers in her lap.

Jake reached out, rubbing his hand slowly over the blanket covering her shoulder. “That’s all great Bam but I asked about you.”

She sighed and then nodded. “Oh, well yeah, yeah. I’m good. I’m good.”

‘You sound unsure.” He pushed.

She reached out her hand to place it on his knee. “No, I'm good. Really.” She assured. “Just not totally used to thinking about it I guess.”

Reaching down to take her hand between both of his, stroking his thumb along her skin. “When’s the last time someone ask how you’ve been doing?”

“About 30 seconds ago.”

Jake looked at her with a warning glare. “Before that, smartass.”

Bambi rolled her head and smiled, her thumb sliding back and forth over Jake’s own calloused knuckles.“You’re the one in the Navy, doing big important things, shouldn’t I be the one asking you how you’re doing?”

Squeezing her hand tightly he gave Bambi a serious look. “You can ask but how you’re doing is no less important than how I’m doing. I’m of the opinion that it’s more important. How can I be okay if I know you’re not?” His question was met with silence and so with a sigh he continued. “I’ve been really good. Made some friends, made some non friends, and I love flying. Have pretty much everything I could ever want. Now you.”

Bambi smiled, giving Jake’s hands a squeeze of her own as she kept her eyes trained on their connected fingers. “I’m good, really. I’m getting my degrees in social work and criminal justice. Victim advocacy is the goal, helping people in similar situations to what Mom and I went through. Things are stressful and I’m scared I’m gonna fail like all the time but I want to help people so badly.” Finally she looked up, tears began to surface in her waterline as she willed them not to fall. “Somewhere out there is a child or a spouse who is going through some of the worst pain of their life and I think about how it felt to be helpless like that and I know I can’t give up.”

Again, Jake reached out to her, one hand still holding tightly to hers, the other gently brushing a fallen drop from her cheek. “You amaze me Bamb, stronger than me that’s for sure.” A comfortable feeling fell over them as he continued the questioning.“You still in therapy?”

With a smile she nodded, her hand still gripped tightly in Jakes. “Yeah but I’ve been in a pretty good place for a while now so we’ve cut back to once or twice a month with the option for more when I need it. It really helped me to work through a lot of the guilt and anger and sadness. And I can think about it now without wanting to throw up. I still have nightmares but nothing like it used to be.”

Jake grinned at that. “That’s really great. I’m proud of you for sticking with it, I know you were really nervous to be starting it in the first place.”

“Thank you for encouraging me back then, I don’t know if I could have done it without that extra push.” 3 years ago she’d been a girl often afraid of her own shadow. She’d thought she needed to be saved back then but Jake hadn’t been the one to do it. Instead he’d loved her and broken her heart and pushed her to help herself.

“Of course Bamb I’ve always cared about you, always wanted what’s best for my Bambi.” His hand cupped her cheek, eyes unable to break from hers.

“Jake-“

“I know, I know what we said I just,” He sighed, thumbs gliding softly over the skin of her hand and of her cheek. “I just really miss you.”

“Miss me?”

“Yeah,” Again, silence surrounded them, Jakes eyes dropping to her lips as he continued. “Bambi, about earlier I didn’t-“

“There you are!” Mary-Ann’s interruption pulled the two apart, hands now cold and cheeks warm. “Jake, I told you to interrupt my conversation with Isaac after 3 minutes. I was stuck there forever listening to him talk about whatever bullshit he’s on now. I swear that guy doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground.” Mary plopped down in the rocker closest to the swing.

Jake now sat with his feet planted firmly on the porch. “Says the girl about the drop out of college.” He teased.

Mary gasped, turing to her best friend who still had yet to stop reeling. “You told him!?” She exclaimed.

Bambi replied with a soft shrug. “I didn’t know it was a secret.”

With the most sincere puppy dog look she could manage Mary-Ann turned to her brother. “Please don’t tell daddy, he’d be so disappointed in me.”

Jake dropped his shoulders and stood up, placing a hand on his sister’s shoulder.“Oh don’t worry Mary-Ann, he’s already disappointed in you.”

From then on the conversation was nothing but a fit of giggles and insults between the siblings, Bambi still swinging back and forth in a fog as she wondered what he’d been about to say.

The night had slowed, most of his extended family had been long gone before it reached ten and parents retiring upstairs not long after. The house was quiet, the only light coming from the twinkling bulbs strung from corner to corner in every room in the house. Jake sat at the dining room table, his chair cocked slightly in the direction of his companion. He’d had more to drink since earlier in the night, giving his mind a soft haze. At least he thought it was the alcohol, could just as easily be the woman sitting beside him in her red dress, glowing in the soft light. He’d convinced her to have one last drink with him before she walked to Mary-Ann’s apartment over the garage. It’d been nearly an hour ago and the clock was ticking closer to midnight as the two each prolonged the last sip of their drinks.

Bambi reached over, gently patting his hand. “It’s good to have you home Jake. I worry about you a lot.”

Turning his head to look at the table Jake nodded. “I worry about you a lot too.”

“Me?” She chuckled and just like the night before he forgets how to breathe. “I’m not the one spending my days in a flying metal death trap.”

“I still worry about you. We should keep in touch more.” He traces his finger around the opening of his bottle, trying not to make eye contact as she continues to barely laugh at a memory.

“What, my occasional snapchat not enough for you?” She asks.

“Not when I want to hear from you every day.” It then when he finally looks back at her, if he didn’t know her so well he’d think maybe that smile was real and not the fake one she plastered on to keep others at a distance.

“Every day?”

He sighs and nods his head as he once again looks away from the woman beside him. “Yeah. I think about you every day.” He thinks he must be drunk, there is no other way he’d admit something so agonizing, not to himself and certainly not to her.

The silence is palpable as she throws back the last sip of her drink as she stood. “Well I should probably head out.” Her voice is quiet, if he hadn’t been standing beside her so closely he might not have heard it.

“Bambi,” Jake lifted his hand to her cheek, gently stroking her with his thumb as her eyes closed. “I wanna kiss you so bad.”

Opening her eyes she watches him through her lashes as she turns and presses her lips to his palm. “How’s that?”

“Not really what I had in mind.”

She smirked, “Disappointed?” She asked, thinking back to the very first kiss they’d shared so long ago, her first.

“Just thinking maybe you don’t know how to kiss, someone should really teach you.” He lifted his other hand, steadying her face to look up at him.

“I seem to recall my first teacher being awfully strict about what kisses he could and could not give me.”

His right hand lifted to brush the stray hairs for her face and he nodded. “Let me make that up to you?”

“I thought that’s what last night was supposed to be.”

One side of his mouth twisted up into a smirk, his hand now moving to caress the side of her neck. “I don’t remember finishing the job.”

“You made me cum, your job is done.” The memory of his lips and tongue making her knees weak.

“But it was only once.” He argued.

She was staring at his lips now, heart pounding with anticipation. “Once is more than most.” It was a true statement. She knew too many people lying about orgasms for it not to be.

His thumb stroked between her jaw and ear, eyes watching her as her eyes moved from his lips to his own chartreuse orbs. “I’m not most.”

Voice hardly above a whisper “Jake?”

“Yes?”

“Just fucking kiss me.”

Four words. Four fucking words and Jake’s mind had gone blank of all thought. All except one. ‘Bambi’. Slowly he dipped his head, gently pressing his lips to her, the familiar taste of candy cane still on her lips from his mother’s christmas cocoa cocktail. He almost pulled away; almost did the exact thing he’d done three years prior, sparing both of them the heartbreak but as she sighed and he felt her melt into his touch he needed just a little more.

Their lips moved together, slotting her bottom lips between his and gently sliding the tip of his tongue across it. Her hands reached up to tangle in his hair, the velvet locks sliding through her fingers as he began to pepper kisses first at the corner of her mouth before moving down over her jaw and down her neck causing her to moan at the feeling of his lips against her bare skin.

He smiled as he continued to kiss and lick and gently nip at her neck. Bending slightly at the knee he wrapped his arms about Bambi and lifted her to rest on the dining room table where only hours earlier his family had been gathered. She gasped and her high heels dropped to the floor and her arms now draped over his shoulders. Jake’s smile grew as he dropped his lips to hers once again, slotting himself between her thighs and pulling her to the edge allowing her to feel his length pressed between their bodies. “Do you feel that baby? Do you wanna feel it inside you?” Arrogance heavy in his voice, his lips barely brushing over hers.

Bamni’s face contorted and she whined. “Yes. Jake please please please.”

“No need to beg Bambi, whatever you want, it’s yours.” He spoke with a slight chuckle in his voice though the sound of her begging made him twitch. Again his lips trailed over the skin of her neck then to her shoulder, his hands sliding up her thighs under the red dress he’d spent the night imagining on the floor. His fingers traced over the nylon, attempting to feel every bump and curve and dimple of the flesh underneath.

”I want you to touch me.” Her tone is still begging with his lips trailing over her collar bone. Smirking Jake pulled his mouth from her skin and licked his lips, moving the fingers of his right hand to her core, touching her gently through the layers.

“Oh fuck.” He groaned, feeling her slick against the tips of his fingers. “You are so wet I can feel you through your panties and stockings.” Again he pressed his lips to hers, swallowing the moans the escaped from her lips at even his light and obstructed touch. “Stay the night with me?” He asked, lips still brushing against hers.

With an eggar nod and jagged breath she responded with a simple yes that had Jake’s heart pounding as he pulled her from the table and kissed her deeply before quietly leading her up the stairs and down the hall. He pressed her against the door of his bedroom, his thigh between her legs and her lips against his throat. “Come on baby,” He whispered. “Let me make you feel good.” And with that he pushed his door open and the two stumbled into his childhood bedroom and with a click, locked the door behind them.

It was nearly 5:30 in the morning as the lovers laid in each other's arms, fingers trace patterns over the other’s skin. Jake’s mom would be getting up soon to start Christmas breakfast. His mind reeled with thoughts, a carousel of anxiety, of leaving Bambi, of breaking her heart, breaking his own. Thoughts of his mother’s smirk if his sister’s best friend bound down the stairs with his hand in hers still smelling of sex. His mind filled with thoughts of run, and run, and run. So he ran.

Pulling his arm from around Bambi Jake moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his back to her. “You should probably get going before everyone gets up.”

She sighed before throwing the covers off and throwing her own legs over the side of the bed. “Yeah, I’d hate to have Mama Seresin see me do the walk of shame. She’d probably start planning the wedding before I made it to the end of the driveway.” She laughed as she gathered her dress and undergarments from the night before, slipping them on with little effort. She felt lighter, tension gone from her shoulders and a permanent smile plastered to her face.

“Bambi, last night, it-“ Jake started but Bambi cut him off, leaning in close for a kiss.

“Was great? I sure thought so.” She said, attempting to finish the sentence in a way he hadn’t meant to.

Jake pulled away, his eyes trained directly to his feet as he spoke. “It shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry.”

Silence again filled the space between them, the inches beginning to feel like a cavern as she pulled further away from him. She didn’t recognize her movements as she walked to his door, her fingers wrapping around the cool metel of the handle. With a deep breath she let the truth fall into the chasm between them. “I lied last night, when I told you it didn’t mean anything? It meant everything.”

She stood there, hand on the knob hoping her words had changed something but Jake didn’t even move “I’m sorry Bambi. I wish-“ He sighed and his head dropped into his hands. “You deserve more than this, more than a single night.”

Bambi nodded and turned the handle. “Merry Christmas Jake.”

Her words were quick though even with the speed he could hear the crack in her voice. His door was shut tight before he responded. “Merry Christmas Bambi.” And only when he heard the front door shut and the turning over of her car did he reveal his own truth.

“I love you.”

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patito-oward · 3 months

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First Night

masterlist

WC: 1.6k

Summary: YN and Pato spend their first night together

Previous Parts: I

me posting?? who is she. i hope you all love please repost if you do 🤍🤍

Pato had arrived at her house the next night to take her out once again. They went on a series of 6 dates in two weeks, and had become quite enamored with each other in that time. YN was hesitant at first, trying to keep her guard up while she waited for the other shoe to drop, but Pato had wormed his way in. It was hard to not let her walls down and let him in when he was so incredibly sweet.

Their second date Pato picked her up in a rented Toyota Corolla which made YN giggle when she saw it. “You actually rented a car to pick me up in?”

“I’m on my third strike and I couldn't risk it.”

Pato knew when he first saw her that she was special, but never expected to fall as hard and as fast as he had. He had come to expect that he was not seen as “boyfriend material” for most women. He knows his schedule and frequent travel doesn’t scream commitment. He had gotten used to a few dates, maybe a couple hookups, and not much more. He tried to convince himself he was okay with that. That the one night stands were fun and he needed to focus on his career anyways, and he was fulfilled by it. It worked– sometimes.

It worked until he’d watch a cheesy romance movie and think about how much he wanted someone to be by his side, or until he had a kid come up so him at a race, a gap in their front teeth and incredibly excited to meet him, and he realized how much he wanted a family of his own.

So he cut off the hookups, because after each one he would be left with this lasting feeling of emptiness, and he’d stopped going on dates for the most part, accepting that his career has prevented him from what he really wanted. If it hadn’t been for Elba’s incessant nagging, he wouldn’t have gone on the date with YN. He’s never been more thankful to have such an annoying older sister.

He invited YN over so he could cook dinner for her, and he was suddenly very nervous about how the night would go. He had tried to plan the perfect night, decorating his table with a large vase of red roses and candles, but as she got closer to arriving he started to doubt himself and wonder if it was too much. He doesn’t want a repeat of their first date where she was clearly overwhelmed.

Before he could think too much about it or change anything, his doorbell rang, and he decided to just try and make the best of the night. The second he opened the door he felt a lot better, she had that effect on him, just seeing her seemed to lower his heart rate and calm him down. She looked absolutely gorgeous in a pair of dark jeans and a cropped sweater.

“Hi!” She greeted him with the sweetest smile and he realized how utterly gone he was for her.

“Hi, you look beautiful.” He kissed the corner of her mouth, a quick gesture but even that made his stomach flip, and moved aside so she could come in.

She had seen his apartment before, but only briefly when he realized he left his phone after he picked her up, and invited her inside. He could tell she was really taking in the place now, the night time made it seem different, softer, the few lights he had on cast a soft glow through the place.

The timer on his phone went off and he headed towards the oven to take out dinner. He made pasta for the night, and it was in the oven to bake the cheese he topped it with. It was when they reached the kitchen that she took note of the dining table.

“Is it too much? I’m sorry if it is; I just wanted tonight to go perfect and I’ve messed it up already.” He started apologizing without her saying anything.

“It’s gorgeous. I can't believe you set this all up and thought I wouldn’t like it.” YN assures him, and kisses him hard trying to show him all of her gratitude.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Dinner is easy, like most things have become between them. YN has never felt so comfortable with someone, and wants to tell him everything. Pato already wants YN to know the deepest parts of him, he wants to learn her inside and out and vice versa.

The thing they’ve taken to talking to most is their families, and they’ve learned so much about each other through that. They both have one sibiling, their best friend, and they’re both extremely close to their families. In a lot of ways YN reminds him of Elba, when she talks about her younger sister he can tell how much he cares for her. She tells him about how she used to watch her sister frequently while her mom worked two jobs to support them. In a sense he feels like he’s met her sister and mother, the way she describes them he can tell there’s so much love between them.

They’ve completely gone through the getting to know you stage, conversations now filled with stories and deep conversations about fears and the future.

After dinner they settle onto the couch, and are scrolling for something to watch. Pato has a large, comfy sectional, but YN has chosen to curl up right against him. It sends a warmth through him, he can smell the mix of her strawberry shampoo and vanilla perfume, and decides it is his new favorite smell. He wraps his arm around her and she leans on his shoulder.

They scroll through netflix and find a baking show to spend the rest of the night watching. It was less about what they were watching for both of them, and more about just being together; however, they both got quite into the show, enjoying watching the competition and judging the bakers themselves.

As the night went on, YN grew pretty drowsy on the couch, and after an episode ended announced, “I should probably head home soon.”

When she sat up, Pato immediately missed the weight of her against him. “Ok, I guess it is getting pretty late.”

She kissed him then, “Thank you for dinner.”

“I’ll make dinner more often if that’s what it gets me.” She laughs at his response and leans in for another kiss.

The kiss quickly deepens, but it’s soft and slow. YN moves herself to be sitting on his lap, knees bracketing his hips. Up until this point they haven’t done anything other than kissing and heavy petting. Pato desperately wanted to know every inch of YN, but knows that if he does what he has always done the results will always be the same. Plus the teasing has been incredibly hot, and he’s willing to wait for her.

When they pull away from each other they’re both a little breathless. Pato can feel his heartbeat in his throat, and is glad the room is dark because he’s sure there’s a pink tint across his face. He speaks before he can stop himself, “Don’t go.”

YN freezes in her spot perched in his lap, “What?”

“I don’t want you to leave. Stay, I’ll sleep on the couch if you want, we don’t have to do anything, just don’t go.” He’s begging at this point, but he really can’t stand the thought of her leaving him.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch.” She leans in for another kiss, so soft he almost doesn’t feel it.

He gently coaxes her off his lap and leads her to his room. He grabs them both some pajamas from his dresser. He gives her a pair of sweatpants and an arrow mclaren hoodie, remembering that she’d told him she freezes in the night.

He got out an extra toothbrush for her, and showed her where his face wash and medicine was. While she got ready, he got dressed himself. They switched places when she came out of the bathroom.

As she waited for him she looked around his room, not what she expected, but she didn’t really know what she expected. He had a white comforter and sheets on the bed, with black and copper throw pillows. The furniture is black metal and dark wood, giving an industrial but homey vibe to the room.

He leaves the bathroom and YN takes the opportunity to really sink him in. He’s in a pair of grey sweatpants that make her a little crazy, and a tight white long sleeve that hugs his biceps so perfectly she’s drooling.

They climb into his bed together and YN immediately notices his smell enveloping her. He smells woodsy and warm. YN notices that they both climbed into opposite sides without thinking about it, another way they fit so perfectly together.

Pato lays on his back and YN hesitates before curling into his side. He wraps his arms around her shoulder and she entangles her leg with his and rests her hand on his chest, “Is this ok?” She asks him.

He can’t believe she even has to ask because he’s never been better. “Perfect.”

She starts absentmindedly scratching at his chest, and the last thing she remembers before drifting off is Pato kissing her head and whispering, “Buenas noches.”

That was the first of many nights spent together for YN and Pato. Already fallen for each other much more than either was willing to admit. Their souls as intertwined as their legs.

#pato o'ward #pato o'ward x reader #pato o’ward fanfiction #indy car #pato o’ward imagine #po5

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mimimunson · 4 months

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Drunken fingertips<3

CW- tickling, mention of the police, mention of marijuana, mention of homophobia and bullying but is quite brief, intoxication.

Note- this is my first fic that I have ever written and the first fic I’ve felt semi-confident to post. Please be kind. This is first and foremost a tickle fic so if that isn’t your thing please scroll!! Minors DNI! This is not a tickle kink fic, but kinksters can interact!

Eddie Munson was by no means shy. As long as he could remember he’d always had a theatrical personality, he’d always felt like if he didn’t make someone laugh during the day, the day was wasted. He’d always found beauty in smiles and laughter, he found it endearing that no two laughs were the same. In fact, it’s kinda how he found out he liked boys. Coming out was a difficult experience, but Wayne told him what or who he did in his own bed was his own business. Eddie didn’t need aggressive acceptance, but the casual reminder that he was allowed to be queer. I mean he’d never admit that he flunked most of his classes because he was staring at admiring the guy across from him, he had a metal head persona to attend to but silliness was definitely his strong point.

With the up-bringing he had, it’s no shock that he was touch starved. That all changed when he met his new group of friends, they were all social rejects the same as him. All except Steve Harrington. He was the jock, the king of Hawkins-High. He wasn’t quite like the rest of the popular kids though. While they were calling kids slurs and laughing through the bullying they permitted, he’d stand there with a flushed face, stone cold silent. Steve wasn’t a stranger to Eddie before that, he was the guy he sat next to in his third period biology class on a Tuesday, the one he’d casually admire whilst pretending to take notes.

Steve was a different person then, now he would never stand by and let his so called friends verbally abuse others. Maybe it was his friendship with Robin that had opened his eyes to his own by-standing homophobia. But it was probably because he sat next to Eddie on the couch every Friday movie night in Wheeler’s basement. Steve wholeheartedly believed that sitting next to Eddie weekly was enough to make any man question their sexuality.

Eddie didn’t know how he got here, his knees grazing against Steve’s with his arm resting on the arm of the couch behind him. Both lightly buzzed on beer, whispering away to each other while the rest of the party were fixated on the next movie in their Star-Wars binge. He’d noticed more about Steve in the last 20 minutes than he did that whole year of biology class, his hair had a few strands of blonde mixed in with the brunette locks and when he smiled he had a dimple on the right side of his mouth.

“You have a dimple”

Eddie half-whispered and smirked, attempting to point at Steve’s cheek but narrowly missing from his intoxication. He playfully shrugged it off as if he meant to do that of course he did.

“Okay? So lots of people have dimples Munson.”

Steve shrugged and half smiled in Eddie’s direction.

“No no, you, King Steve have one singular dimple, not plural dimples. One. Only on this side”

Eddie spoke holding up his index finger, pointing as Steve’s face. Steve rolled his eyes and chuckled, nobody, not even he had noticed his singular dimple before.

“I get it now, shh I’m trying to watch the movie.”

He lied through his teeth, mocking Eddie’s performative hand gestures. He could tell Eddie was a little more tipsy than he was, the main clue being the 4 extra empty beer bottles beside him. Eddie giggled, brushing his curls out of his face.

“One Steve. One. Where’s your other dimple? Someone steal it?”

Steve rolled his eyes once more at his drunken friend. “Maybe” he shrugged, “have you got it Eds?”

He smiled, leaning his body weight a little closer towards him.

Eddie’s flushed a little at his words, “Eds”. Steve was the only person who called him that, he was like that scene in the grinch where his heart grows 4 sizes bigger whenever Steve called him that. It felt intimate, a moment that only they could share.

“Listen man, I am not a thief” he held his hands up at the accusation, his smile beaming over at him.

“I’m afraid I’m gonna have to search you, it’s official police business.”

He joked, patting down Eddie’s denim jacket. Giggling when he felt the outline of his grinder and lighter from inside his pockets.

“Drug paraphernalia.. I’m pretty sure that’s a crime. I’ve not been on the job long but I don’t know Munson, it’s not looking good for you.”

He laughed, pretending to check an imaginary watch on his wrist as if a watch could tell him how long he’d been working a profession for.

“Cuff me officer Harrington, for the crime of being a stoner.” Eddie barely spluttered that sentence out before erupting into laughter.

“Oh you think breaking the law is funny Munson?”

He said shifting himself closer to the drunken boy. Grabbing both wrists in one hand, pinning him to the couch, lightly running his fingers across his arms.

“This is funny?!”

Steve continued his ‘pat down’ if you can call it that, he was poking Eddie’s stomach with emphasis to his words.

“I did not know you were such a criminal. You’re on the wrong tracks man, it’s not too late to change your ways”

Eddie could feel his face burning. Steve was not only touching him, man he’d have to remember that for a later daydream, but he was tickling him.

“Fuck Steve come on don’t do that”

Half trying to slap at his hands but missing them in his inebriated state and half trying to hide the ever growing blush on his face. Drowning in a sea of laughter.

“What’s the matter Eds? This is formal policy, I have to do this.”

Steve caught on pretty quickly that he wasn’t laughing at his pretty wooden acting and more so that his pat was something of a ticklish situation for his friend.

“I- shut up.”

Eddie could hardly contain himself, apparently trying to juggle the need to grab Steve’s face and pull him in for a passionate make out session, hiding his blushing face and trying to pretend like he isn’t being tickled shitless was hard for him.

“Munson, you’re really fucking ticklish you know? If you ever actually get caught for possession you are so screwed.”

Harrington proclaimed laughing alongside his friend, holding him down with one hand so he doesn’t squirm his way off the couch.

“I am so gonna kill you.”

He spluttered out in between gasping for breath. Steve’s hands slowed until they halted, towering over Eddie admiring how his curls were like little spirals framing his face, he even found himself doting on the way he looked up at him. His iris’s were camouflaged into his pupils, his eyes were such a deep shade of brown, but when the light hit them just right they looked almost amber. They always complimented his smile, he definitely smiled through his eyes.

“You’ve still got the same smile, it hasn’t changed since we were assigned seats together.”

Steve whispered, his bisexuality was still hush-hush. He’d only confided in Robin before this moment, he found it difficult sure, but hiding anything from Robin was more of a challenge. She’d sussed out his crush on Eddie from the first moment Dustin introduced them. The way he couldn’t help but look at the floor because holding eye contact was painful, the way he’d look like a sick puppy every time Eddie wasn’t able to join in a trip with the party. But mostly the way that Steve had drunkenly confessed that his bi-awakening was Eddie Munson between spitting vomit into the toilet and sharing confessions with each other.

“You remember me?”

Eddie had his hand over his eyes, slightly peaking between the gap through his middle and ring finger. As if missing this moment was not an option, even if the crimson blush burning into his cheeks wasn’t fighting its corner.

“How could I forget the guy who would stroll into class 45 minutes late, smelling of weed, tripping over thin air and flopping himself down beside me not saying a single word but doodling for the remainder of the lesson? I remember most of it, including the times I could feel your eyes burning into the side of my face like a laser.”

Eddie was mortified at this point. He truly thought he had stealth like skills for daydreaming next to pretty boys but regardless, he wasn’t ashamed. He’d do it all again.

“Oh. You saw that huh? I- I just. I just-“

Before the metal head could even finish his sentence, Steve put his finger up to his own lips.

“No need to explain, I get it.”

He nodded, he never wanted to make him feel embarrassed about who he was.

“It’s rough, teen years I mean. For guys like us especially.”

“Guys like us?” Eddie shot him a bewildered look. He couldn’t possibly mean he was- did he?

“You know. Guys like us. Guys who like guys. I mean I’m a guy who likes guys and girls”

Steve is fumbling all his words right now, nervously trying to explain himself was harder than he imagined.

“Listen don’t tell anyone I told you that though man, only Rob knows. Maybe I’m just a bit drunk but, you look so pretty like this. Peach coloured cheeks and that smile. Damn. See this is what I said to Robin, Eddie Munson just- well just looking at him opened my eyes to who I am.”

Steve interrupted himself, realising he’d said that all out loud. After a few seconds of consideration in his head, he was too drunk to care.

“You looking at me with those doe eyes in biology, it made me realise yeah so I’m like definitely bisexual.”

He felt a huge weight lifted off his shoulders, looking down at Eddie who had practically shrunk so far down into the couch that he looked like a part of it. But he was still smiling, still looking at him in the same way.

He lifted himself, sitting upright with his back against the cushions. Grabbing two bottles, ripping the caps off with his teeth.

“Interesting.” Munson divulged, not even noticing that the entire party was staring at them both with their jaws to the floor.

“You owe me 20 dollars!! I told you!!”

Henderson rose up, laughing and pointing at Mike. He always did like to be proved right. The party later found out that Dustin was certain his ‘gay-dar’ was spot on but Wheeler told him it was just broken, it was smashed right into the ground.

“I TOLD you guys, but hey, what do I know?”

Cherry-faced, Steve and Eddie looked at each other, and back at the party, and in perfect unison took several big swigs of their beers.

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daisynik7 · 6 months

Text

The Apple of His Eye

Chapter 3: The Gift that Keeps on Giving

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Word Count: ~3.9k

cw: celebration of Christmas Eve (no religion mentioned), fluff, established relationship, implied sex

Summary: You and Nanami celebrate your first Christmas Eve together.

Author's Notes: This is the third and last fluffy side story for A Bento For Kento! Thanks for all the love and support throughout this series. Appreciate you all and happy holidays! Divider credit to @/saradika.

Previous Chapter | The Apple of His Eye Masterlist

It’s the day before Christmas Eve. Ren navigates through Netflix on your TV as you sit on the floor, wrapping presents. “Shall we do a classic Christmas movie, like Home Alone? Or should we do a horror holiday movie, like Krampus? Honestly, I could go either way,” Ren suggests, clicking on the remote to scroll through the different options.

Distracted, you respond, “I’m down for whatever.” You finish wrapping Nanami’s gifts. With a smile, you pick them up and place it on your kitchen counter, ready to be exchanged tomorrow. Your boyfriend has been out of town since yesterday for a mission. Tomorrow, you’ll be reunited to spend Christmas Eve together, arguably the most romantic day of the year. It’s taken all your willpower to not spoil the presents you got for him. You’ve always been horrible at keeping secrets.

“Krampus it is, then!” Ren exclaims, grabbing the bowl of popcorn off the coffee table. “Ready?”

“Yes! I finished wrapping his gifts.” You sit next to your brother on the couch, grabbing a handful to toss into your mouth.

“I wish I could see his reaction when you give him the apron. I bet he’s not used to silly, prank gifts. Then again, I’m sure Gojo has tortured him plenty of times with pranks.” Your brother starts the movie and adds, “So, you think he’ll propose tomorrow?”

You whip around to face him with a shocked expression. “Ren! Of course not, we’ve only been dating for five months!”

He smirks. “So? Nanami is head over heels for you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a ring already and is just waiting for the appropriate time.”

“Don’t put ideas in my head.” As if you weren’t already thinking it.

To be honest, you love Nanami. Absolutely love him. Head over heels, smitten, match made in heaven, every cliché expression in the book you can think of, you feel that way about him. It’s been five months of paradise together, and not the kind that feels too good to be true. It’s natural, as if you’ve known each other for years, with the excitement of still learning more. You never thought you’d be the type of person who could fall in love so fast, but here you are, imagining the rest of your life with this man that you are completely infatuated with.

Marriage has crossed your mind. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t. You can’t help but picture Nanami as a doting husband, the two of you starting a family, going on more vacations, growing old together. It’s a dream that is slowly looking like a reality the more time you spend with each other.

Ren’s voice is soft as he says, “Remember what I told you, right before you two got together? I said you deserve the universe. He’s proven time and time again that he can give that to you, that he wants to give that to you. Whatever you and Nanami have is special. It’s the kind of love that I want to experience. The kind that Mom and Dad have for each other, the kind that people write movies and novels about. I know you think it’s too soon, but when you know, you know. Right?”

You stare at him, a little dumbfounded at the wisdom he just casually bestowed upon you. When you don’t speak, he just grins. “Yeah, I know stuff!”

You scooch over to him to give him a big hug. “Booger! When did you become such a romance expert?”

He tries to escape your grasp as he scoffs, “I blame it on the K-dramas I’ve been watching with my friends from school. But seriously, not that it matters or anything, but you have my approval. That is, if Nanami has the balls to actually propose tomorrow.”

“I highly doubt he’ll propose tomorrow. We haven’t even talked about marriage with each other yet. We’re just taking it one step at a time. We’re in no rush.” Before you let go of him, you add, “And for the record, it does matter. Your support means more to me than you know. I love you, booger.”

With a smooch on his head, you finally release him. He rubs the spot where you kissed him, smiling. “Love you too, sis.”

As the two of you sit back to watch the movie, you let your mind wander. You mean it when you say you’re in no rush. You’re just enjoying your time together without expectations or a timeline. The only thing you know for certain is that you love Nanami and Nanami loves you. That’s all that matters right now.

~~~

Nanami sits on the train next to Gojo. It’s the morning of Christmas Eve. They’re heading back to Tokyo after being away for a mission the last two days. He shakes his leg anxiously, excited and nervous for the night to come.

Tonight, Nanami is going to ask his girlfriend a very important question.

He’s going to ask her to move in together.

It makes sense to move on to this next stage in their relationship. They spend nearly every day together, either at his place or hers, mostly at hers. He dreads the few hours they are apart, whenever he needs to go to his apartment to make sure things are still running or to pick up extra clothes. Frankly, he doesn’t care much for his place; it’s always felt empty and lonely. It reminds him of his time as a bachelor. He pays rent for it every month without having any attachment to it whatsoever.

But when he’s in her home, he’s comfortable and cozy. He loves snuggling up next to her in bed, taking naps on the couch in front of the TV, cooking dinner in her kitchen. He adores the little splashes of her personality scattered throughout her house, from her solar powered Lucky Cat constantly waving at him from the windowsill to the Hello Kitty figurine displayed next to her Nintendo Switch. He’s started leaving traces of himself, like his toothbrush, clothes, an extra pair of shoes.

He can’t get enough of her. And that’s why he wants to live with her.

Gojo nudges him. “Relax, buddy. She’s going to agree to it.”

Nanami tries to stop his leg from shaking but ends up moving his other instead. “I don’t know. She may still want her space.”

“I don’t blame her if she does, you can be so overbearing sometimes, Nanamin!” When Gojo’s joke is not received well, he reiterates, “She’ll say yes, don’t worry. She absolutely adores you.”

They love each other. Nanami knows that for sure. But he still can’t help but feel nervous. What if she’s not ready? What if she still needs time? What if she still really wants her own space?

He sighs, unable to shake the nerves that are getting the best of him. Thankfully, Gojo takes the hint and leaves him alone for the rest of the train ride. When they get off the train to part ways, his friend says, “Merry Christmas, Nanamin. Tomorrow is going to go great. Also, please tell her thank you again for the gift. I already texted her, but I want you to tell her again. I love it.” They gave Gojo a new pair of sunglasses, that he is currently donning as they speak. “See you guys on New Year’s!”

Nanami walks the rest of the way to her house, luggage in hand and heart beating a tiny bit faster. He’ll pop the question tonight, after dinner, when they are exchanging gifts. They plan to order takeout from their favorite sushi restaurant and celebrate at home.

He unlocks the door, to which he already has his own set of keys for, and enters the house. The familiar scent fills his nostrils and gives him a sense of warmth and happiness. When he doesn’t see her in the kitchen or the living room, he yells out her name.

“Kento? Hold on! I’m changing!” he hears her shout from the hallway.

He removes his shoes and places them next to his other pair by the door. He hangs his coat on the rack, right on top of another jacket of his. Everywhere he looks, there is something of his right next to something of hers. He sees the newspaper that she started subscribing to for him, on the table, next to her empty coffee mug. The bottle of wine they opened a few nights ago sitting on the countertop, next to the Hello Kitty bento box that hasn’t been packed since he left. A pair of his slippers that he wears around the house right by the couch, where he last left them.

He wants to call this place his home. This is the realization he comes to.

When he sees her, his jaw almost drops. She walks out from the bathroom in one of his dress shirts and boxers with a bright smile on her face. “Baby! I missed you! Welcome home!” Her arms wrap around his neck as she presses her lips to his.

He kisses her back eagerly, linking his arms around her waist tightly. She looks so good in his clothes. He can’t hold back. “Why are you wearing this?”

She giggles, pulling away from him to answer, “I wanted to surprise you. It’s part one of my Christmas present to you.”

He chuckles. “This certainly is a wonderful treat.” He pulls her back towards him to scatter kisses on her neck, reaching his hands over her butt to give it a nice squeeze. “I missed you so much, sweetie. Can I unwrap my beautiful gift now?” he whispers into her ear, fingers sliding to the waistband of the boxers, tugging them down slightly.

She smiles, unbuttoning the dress shirt from the top. They both stagger into the bedroom, Nanami leaving his luggage by the front door, forgotten and abandoned as they start their Christmas Eve celebration making love in bed.

Two hours later, after some post-coital cuddling, napping, and showering, they sit on the couch, looking through the menu of their favorite sushi restaurant. Nanami has his arm wrapped around her as they scroll through her phone, selecting a variety of dishes to order for dinner. She’s still wearing his dress shirt, but with sweatpants this time.

As they wait for their food to arrive, she asks him, “Can I give you part two now?”

“Why did you get me so many things?”

“These are small! Please don’t feel bad.” She gets up to walk to the kitchen counter and returns with a small gift bag in hand. “Open it.”

It’s a dark blue tie with little foxes as the pattern. He grins. “A fox tie?”

“Yes. Because you’re foxy.”

He sputters a laugh. How can she be so cheesy and adorable all at once? He leans in to kiss her cheek.

“Do you hate it? It’s just a little gag, you don’t have to actually wear it.”

“A gag?”

“Yeah, a gag gift. Like a prank. A joke. I honestly think it’s rather stylish.”

“Ahhh, a prank. I thought you meant…Never mind.”

“Kento Nanami, what are you thinking?” she looks at him with a raised brow and a slightly amused smile.

“No. I shouldn’t say. It’s naughty.”

“Kento!”

“I love it. I promise I’ll wear it. You’re right, it is rather stylish. We’ll just have to use one of my other ties as a gag next time. I mean, a gag gift.”

“Nanami!” she responds, using his surname for emphasis, shoving his bicep playfully, chortling over his racy joke.

“Seriously. I love it. It’s from you, so naturally, it holds a very special place in my heart.”

She beams at him, cheeks round and cute with joy. He’ll never get tired of making her smile. Never. He takes a mental snapshot each time, memorizing all the different reasons and ways he’s managed to make her happy, to make her laugh. He takes her hand in his and raises it up to his lips, placing a soft kiss inside her wrist. “Do you want yours now?”

“Not yet! I have one more small one I want you to open. We can do our big gifts after dinner.” She walks over to the countertop again to retrieve another bag. How did he get so lucky to meet such a kind and generous woman? He constantly thanks the universe for this serendipity.

Giggling, she hands him the bag. He eyes her suspiciously with an amused grin and comments, “You’re making me nervous. What’s in here?”

“Just open it!” More giggling. He loves her so much.

Inside is a folded black apron. As he unravels it, he turns it over to the front to see the cause of her impish behavior. “Mr. Good Lookin’ is Cookin’…?” he reads out loud, warmth creeping to his cheeks, unable to contain his smile.

“Please put it on! I want to take a picture for Ren.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

Pouting, she whines, “Why not?!”

“Because knowing your brother, that picture will end up in Gojo’s hands. And he will harass me about it well into the new year.” Even as he explains himself, he pulls the apron over his head and ties it around his waist.

“What can Gojo even say to you? You are good looking! And you do cook! There’s nothing wrong with that statement! Please, baby? For me?”

Ahhh, his weakness. How can he deny her when those words come out of her sweet lips? The magic words that turn him into putty right into her hands? Chuckling, he relents. “Fine. Take the picture. If Gojo says something at the New Year’s party, you owe me.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want,” she smirks, taking the photo.

In all honestly, he loves the presents so far. Knowing she put thought into each one, no matter how silly it is, makes his heart swell with affection. He should have known that the same charm she exudes in her everyday life, the charm he fell in love with and continues to love each passing moment, would translate well into her gifts.

They cuddle and chat on the couch for a few more minutes until the doorbell rings, signaling that their dinner has been delivered. Nanami gets up to fetch the food and starts opening the bags to set on the table.

“Honey! Change of plans. I actually want to give you your last gift now, before we start eating. Is that okay?”

Confused, he replies, “Sure.”

“I just realized how perfect of an opportunity this is. You’ll understand as soon as you open it.” With a mischievous grin, she disappears into her bedroom. “Oh! And let’s eat on the couch! You can set the food up on the coffee table,” she yells through the closed door.

At her suggestion, he moves the setup over to the coffee table and starts playing a random holiday movie on the TV as he waits for her big reveal. After a few minutes, she comes out wearing her set of wasabi green sushi pajamas, a medium-sized wrapped box in her hands.

He loves these pajamas. They hold a special place in his heart. During their summer lessons, Ren showed Nanami a picture of her holding up giant meatballs with the brightest smile on her face. These were the pajamas she was wearing. It was the second thing that caught his attention, after her beautiful smile. It captivated him so much in that moment, he even imagined a scenario where she stood in front of him in those pajamas, with an offering of a bento box and a smile. The world is a better place with you in it. Always remember that. I love you, Nanami.

She walks up to him, smiling, holding the box out to him. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” A scene almost exact to what he conjured in his head months ago, before they even met. But it’s better this time; it’s real.

He unwraps the box carefully, sliding his finger under the folds and creases, savoring each second of this wonderful gift. There’s no inkling in his head as to what it could be, but regardless, he’s going to love it. Almost instantly, he notices the wasabi green color poking through the tissue paper as he opens the box. It’s a matching set of sushi pajamas in his size.

He’s speechless as he marvels at the fabric, taking it all in. There’s a familiar tightness in his chest, similar to the first time they said “I love you” to each other. He’s not exactly sure why he is so emotional from this. It’ll silly how flustered he’s getting. Maybe it’s because this is the first time in a long time that he received a gift that had so much thought put into it. So much love behind it.

They are officially the kind of couple that has matching pajamas. Nanami never thought he’d be in a relationship like this. He’s thrilled.

She breaks the silence first. “Do you like it? You always say how cute these pajamas are on me, so I wanted us to be cute together. And sushi is our favorite food to eat. I thought this would be fitting.”

Gulping loudly, trying to keep his composure, he responds, “I love it.” He lets out a small laugh. “I absolutely love it.” He drops the clothes on the couch to wrap his arms around her. Kissing the top of her head as he rubs her back, he whispers, “I love you so much.”

Nanami never thought a pair of wasabi green sushi pajamas could bring him to the verge of tears, but here he is, nearly in shambles in front of her. He thinks back on his life before this. If he knew then what the future had in store for him, he wouldn’t have wasted so much time brooding. Having her in his life has been well worth the wait. And if he had to, he’d wait decades more to have this kind of happiness in his life, to have her in his life.

They continue hugging for a while longer until he finally releases her, feeling calm again. He picks up the pajamas and says, “Let me go get changed and we can start eating.”

She claps her hands giddily. “You read my mind!”

A few minutes later, they sit beside each other on the couch, filling their plates with different sashimi and nigiri, all while wearing their matching sushi pajamas. The TV is on, volume low but enough to hear the buzz of whatever classic movie is playing.

Domestic bliss with the person he loves the most. It’s everything he’s ever hoped. After years of working endlessly, living through monotony, he’s finally made it. All because of her.

~~~

After dinner, the two you digest on the couch, watching the remainder of the movie in peace. You’re snuggled next to each other under a fleece blanket, wearing the matching pajamas. His hand rests on your thigh as you lay your head on his shoulder. Every so often, he’ll turn his to give you a soft peck on the cheek.

When the film is over, you sigh. “What should we watch now?”

Turning off the TV, Nanami gets up from the couch. “I want to give you your present now.”

“Oh yeah! Okay. Let’s do it.”

He walks over to his luggage by the front door and rummages through his belongings. When he comes back, he takes his spot next to you on the couch and hands you a bag. “Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

Excited, you dig through and the first thing you find are two lacey slip dresses, one in a forest green color, the other in maroon. These look very similar to one he bought you not that long ago, during your first vacation together at the hot springs resort. The steamy memories from that weekend come rushing back as you smirk at him. “Are you sure this is a gift for me? Or more of a gift for you?”

He chuckles. “Okay, I’ll admit it. It’s a treat for the both of us. I’m sure we’ll make use of it tonight.” He leans in to kiss you, his hand sliding up your thigh suggestively.

You push him away, laughing. “From sushi pajamas to lingerie. We have quite the range, don’t we, Mr. Good Lookin’?” Setting the dresses aside, you search through the gift bag to make sure you didn’t miss anything. There’s a small box at the bottom that you notice. When you open it, you find a dainty gold chain bracelet inside. You let out a small gasp, taken aback by the beauty of it. “Kento, I love it. I love it so much.”

“Good. I know how much you like this style of jewelry, but I wasn’t sure if you had something like this yet.”

“I absolutely do love this kind of jewelry and I definitely don’t have something like this yet. Thank you, baby. It’s so pretty,” you muse as he helps you clasp it around your wrist.

When it’s on, instead of pulling away, he holds your hand in between his. “There’s one more thing.” The look in his eyes is serious as he clears his throat. He always clears his throat when he’s nervous about something. “I love you. So much. More than you’ll ever know. More than I’m able to express to you in words or actions or gifts. And I want to move forward to the next step in our relationship.” He pauses, gauging your reaction so far. Your eyes are wide, full of anticipation for what he’s going to say next.

“I want us to move in together. I want to live here with you.”

Fireworks, butterflies, confetti. Every cliché reaction to happiness bursts through your body. Kento Nanami, you’re very handsome, extremely sweet and thoughtful amazing boyfriend wants to live with you! You fling yourself on him, laughing. “Kento! Yes! Let’s move in together!” Grabbing his face in your hands, you pepper his cheek with kisses, smiling and giggling, unable to contain your emotions.

“You mean it?” His voice is soft and precious.

“Yes!” You kiss him full on the lips now, sitting in his lap. “I’m so happy. I’m so, so happy. I’d love to live you. I love you.”

“You’re okay with me moving in here? In your home?”

“I’m more than okay. And our home. It’s our home now, Kento.”

Honestly, it’s felt like home for the both of you for a while now. Nanami is everywhere around the house, blending in seamlessly with you. His coats hanging next to yours on the rack. His toothbrush set next to yours in the bathroom. His clothes next to yours in the closet. Everyone you are, he’s right there, by your side. And as much as you like visiting his apartment with his king-sized bed, something about being here at home with him is comforting. As if this is where the two of you are meant to be together.

~~~

Our home. It’s our home now, Kento.

Nanami can’t stop replaying the words in his head as he continues to kiss her passionately, unable to hold back any longer. They celebrate with another round of love making, this time on the couch, with his gorgeous girlfriend wearing the maroon dress and the golden bracelet around her wrist. In their home. Not his, not hers. But theirs.

Home is wherever she is. He’s finally home.

Taglist: @moonmalice @bloombb @strawberry1042

#nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #a bento for kento #the apple of his eye series

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