#I’ve seen this before but I KEEP thinking about it
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SHOCK FACTOR ★彡 PART 4
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader
Warnings: swearing
A/n: I hate this ngl 😣 didn’t turn out that great. I swear I’ll do better
“ITS TEN PM, why the fuck are you at my hotel right now?”
Elaine gives an unbothered look at your harsh tone, which shocks you because she’s usually more reactive.
“Seriously?” You scoff. She’d been standing stupidly outside of your door for god knows how long, spamming your phone with messages you didn’t see due to Paige taking it. “You don’t even have a key to my room…what did you think you’d accomplish?”
“It’s a Saturday night, I thought I’d take you out.” She rolls her eyes. “Plus I know your teammates are partying right now. Sorry I didn’t want you to be alone.”
“Well maybe I would’ve liked to be alone, since I didn’t answer the 40 texts and calls you gave me.” You say, opening the room up and stepping inside, letting her follow behind. If you were going to argue it wouldn’t be in the hallway for everyone to hear.
“Well you weren’t alone, were you?” Elaine quips with a rude tone that is foreign for you to hear from her.
“So what if I wasn’t?” You narrow your eyes. “I didn’t come to Connecticut just to see you.”
She’s immediately stung by this, and you feel bad for a split second until she retaliates. “Well you came to Storrs for me, right? Unless you were just trying to fuck Paige Bueckers and leave. You and your little fake arguments, you sure you’re not covering up for something?”
“You’re kidding.” You laugh at her, but it’s uncomfortable. “You think I’m faking my arguments to cover up some elaborate hookup? Shit, you’re crazy.”
“I’m not fucking crazy,” Elaine voice raises above yours, clearly hurt by the comment. “I don’t know why you’re all over the chick, and going out to dinner with her? It’s weird.”
“I don’t know why you care so much. That’s what’s weird.”
“I just think you should keep your distance from Paige.” She says, quieter. “The media has been all over you two, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but it’s overwhelming.”
“Obviously not if I don’t know this already.” You raise your eyebrow. “Guess it’s been overwhelming for you though.”
Elaine is quiet for a moment, arms crossed in an attempt to comfort herself. “I’m sorry.” She says. “I guess I’ve just been jealous. You came to see me after like a year, and I kinda felt like you were more focused on Paige then me.”
At the thought of this you immediately feel awful. You hadn’t seen Elaine for a long time, and when you have been with her you were admittedly distracted.
“I’m sorry Lainey.” You sigh out. “I haven’t been here long…It’s just been a lot. We have the rest of the week.” You hold out your arms and she gladly hugs you tight.
“I’m not gonna lie,” you mumble against her “I thought you were mad about Paige for a whole other reason.”
“What?”
“Never mind.” You shake your head, brushing off the thoughts of her jealousy being a little different from how she explained. “Let’s go out. I need a drink.”
-
You tried to go out and have fun, but your mind kept wandering to earlier. Paige’s hands on your face, her mouth hovering above yours, her eyes staring through you. The memory of her knuckles white and wrapped around the steering wheel as she drove you back home, a pent up expression on her face.
You weren’t sure if she was so annoyed because your moment with her was interrupted, or because Elaine was the one who interrupted it. Despite Paige dismissing your friend, and Elaine seemingly missing your company, you knew there was something going on between them. You just weren’t sure what, and the shots you’d done didn’t help collect your thoughts.
Elaine had been with you for a bit, but eventually went off on her own to get detrimentally more drunk then you planned on getting. You were sitting at a table alone and sipping when you got a notification.
paigebueckers is going live!
You switch to a burner account before joining the live and being greeted with Paige’s straight face reading comments while KK hung out in the background. You felt pathetic watching her live anonymously, but you needed to see her.
“Someone said ‘Ain’t it too late for ya’ll?’” Paige scoffs, turning to KK
“Girl, it’s a Saturday. Who you think we are?” KK quips back, enticing a chuckle from Paige that makes your stomach flutter.
They take turns answering questions; Paige gracefully dodging the less appropriate ones and KK occasionally reading something that makes everyone go crazy. They were so funny together you almost forgot how sad it was that you were in a bar watching their live.
KK looks at the chat for a longer moment before her eyebrows raise, mouth forming an amused smirk while glancing at Paige, who is turned away from the phone and looking at something off screen.
“Aye Paige, someone said ‘u still beefin’ with (name)?’”
Paige flashes a dangerous look to KK who unsurprisingly cowers a bit, but she turns towards the camera and rubs her face sheepishly while responding. “S’ not really beef. We jus don’t get along.”
“Oh?” KK responds, this obviously being news to her.
Blue eyes finally meet the camera, and you almost feel like she’s staring right at you when she says “and I’m tired of people comparing me to her. We are not on the same level.” Paige lets out an entitled huff. “It’s embarrassing. People think just cus we talked like twice we’re equal.”
KK nudges her quickly. “She don’t mean that ya’ll.” She says nervously.
“Nah, I do. I mean she’s not bad. She just don’t got nothing on me.” Paige shrugs. “She’s boring. No shock factor.”
“Aight ya’ll I think that’s it for tonight.” KK says curtly, eyeing Paige. The live ends in an instant, and you’re left feeling hurt, embarrassed, confused and angry. This didn’t feel like an attack on your skill as a basketball player. It was more personal, and Paige knows it.
Your mind is racing from the countless drinks, loud atmosphere and eventful live you’d just watched. You shoot Juju a text and ask her to go live with you, and she surprisingly responds in an instant. The viewers are scarily high right from the get go.
“Who came here from Paige’s live?”
“Ain’t no way she’s at a bar rn”
“Aye (name) how’s Connecticut?”
“lowk think her and Paige are hooking up”
“juju can you say hi pls”
“Hey guys.” You mutter, attempting to steady your voice. Juju raises an eyebrow at your state. “You sure you shud be on live right now?” She asks. “Who’re you even with?”
“Never mind that.” You shake your head, reading through the comments. “Hiii guys. Connecticut’s alright, Storrs is a shithole though.” You laugh.
“Missing California?” Juju asks.
Sighing, you reply “Very much so.”
“Sooo, let’s talk bout your new friend!” Juju smirks, most probably unaware of Paige’s newest comment about you.
“And who would that be?”
“Paige Bueckers, duh. Must be nice to see her in person outside of the court.” Juju says innocently, not paying attention to the increase of questions in the chat concerning Paige’s live.
“Nice isn’t quite the word I would use.” You grumble, and Juju immediately seems to regret bringing it up. She tries to save the situation by asking something else, but you interrupt her. “I think the word disappointing…or maybe shitty fits better.”
“Hah, you’re funny.” Juju attempts to seem amused, but is clearly trying to figure out how she can work in some damage control. She furiously types something out and you get a message from her a moment later
JUJU-KINS 😘
Girl get tf off of live RIGHT NOW and get yo self home and in bed. Ur so drunk.
Seen.
Ignoring the text, you continue to read questions out loud. Your body is practically on fire and you’re aware that you’re not thinking straight, but there are no intentions of stopping now. Paige certainly couldn’t have enough of talking big online, so why should you?
“‘Weren’t you just with Paige at a coffee shop yesterday?’” You read out loud. “Not intentionally.” You huff, eyebrows narrowing. “The girl can’t accept I’m tryna have a peaceful vacation. For whatever reason I keep seeing her everywhere, it’s not even funny, just fucking weird.”
“(Name) I think we should put the phone down.” Juju says quietly.
“Mm, it’s not even my problem she thinks ‘m boring anyways.” You grumble, words starting to slur. “Mayyybe I’m boring cus I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk to her n her shitty Italian restaurant.”
The chat begins to blow up at this, and it finally hits you how much damage you’ve just done. “M’kay bye.” You rush out, quickly ending the live and texting Juju back.
YOU
howw fucked am i scale of 1-10
JUJU-KINS 😘
We not even in numbers anymore atp.
Get yo ass up and go home pls. This is an issue for tmr now
Your head is starting to pound as you get up from your spot and push through people in search of Elaine, thankfully she finds you first, half stumbling-half intentionally bumping into you. She’s obviously wasted.
“Ready to go homeee?” She hiccups, accepting your hand as help to balance herself. “I’m gonna call an Uber.” You reply. “Can we wait outside?”
The two of you practically tumble out of the bar, the cold air slightly sobers you up, and clarifies your thoughts a bit. You feel yourself start to get irritated.
“Do you have to get so fuckin’ drunk every time we go out?” You huff out.
“Don’t start.” Elaine snaps. “You’re literallyyyy slurring your words.”
“At least I can walk,” you scoff. Your head is absolutely aching now, and you’re dying to be home. “You look so stupid tripping around.”
“Well you look stupid feining over Paige, goin live n shit talking her.” She retaliates.
“I’m not feining for shit.”
“You’re obsessed.” Elaine slurs. “N’ I’ll tell you what. She’s going to play your ass and you’re never gonna get over it, cus that’s what she does.”
“You know way more about her then you let on.” You narrow your eyes, unsurprised when she avoids your gaze. “How’d you even know I was out with her today anyways?”
She’s quiet, you can’t tell if she’s thinking or if she’s genuinely ignoring you.
“Elaine.” You say sharply. “How the fuck did you know I was out with Paige?”
“I have her location.” She mumbles.
“What?”
“She still shares her location me.”
“She still…” you pause, attempting to understand what she’s saying. “She shares her location with you?”
“I mean, I don’t think she knows she hasn’t turned it off.” Elaine says sheepishly. “I just happened to check n’ I saw you guys together.”
“This is so fuckin’ weird.” You scoff. “What happened to you guys barely knowing each other?”
“Yeah, well that’s what I told you.” She rolls her eyes.
“And what didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.” Elaine shrugs, eyes heavy.
“We used to fuck.”
The immediate regret on her face as the words leave her mouth makes you sick to your stomach, and a swirl of unintelligible emotions begin to manifest inside of you.
“And you didn’t tell me this because?”
“Didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”
“Why’d you try to get me to flirt with her that first day at the bar?”
She shakes laughs and her head. “Didn’t think you’d actually end up talking to her, didn’t think she’d be so interested in you either. You’re not really her type.”
Exasperated and unsure how to even articulate what you’re feeling, you simply bring your hands to your face. “Do you understand how fucking weird this is?”
“Don’t get so frustrated.” She scoffs. “You’ve talked to her for like three days, n’ you thought she was a dick before this week. Don’t tell me you’re into her now.”
“It’s not even about her at this point.” You sneer. “I don’t know who the fuck you are, and I don’t know why everyone here is fucking obsessed with lying.”
When she doesn’t respond you take the opportunity to get more in, facing her now and looking down in disappointment. “I didn’t even know you liked girls, and now you’re telling me you’ve been hooking up with someone I know? God, it makes sense now why you were so quick to start insulting her the minute she showed any interest in me.”
Elaine can’t even bring herself to look at you, and the fact that she’s so drunk she might not even be digesting what you’re saying is infuriating you.
“Then you guilt trip me about not paying enough attention to you? Was that really what was bothering you, or was it the fact that she was out with me?”
Taking a deep breath, you turn your back to her and check your phone to see when your uber was coming. You also see a text message.
PAIGE
Yo
Normally you’d have ignored any message from her after today, but your mind was still racing from adrenaline and you couldn’t help but respond.
YOU
what do u want
PAIGE
Are you still at that bar?
I feel like we shud talk
YOU
you gonna tell me why you lied to my face?
i’m with Elaine rn
PAIGE
Oh uh…
I can pick both u guys up and drop her off ? If u want.
YOU
i’m not riding in the car you prolly fucked her in
bye
PAIGE
Typing…
#Spotify#fanfiction#fanfic#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#rpf#paige bueckers x reader#uconn women’s basketball#paige buckets#paige x reader#rivals to lovers#rivalry#light angst
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go ahead and smile - mv33
in which max is the only person who can bring her back to normal
wc: 2k of straight yapping i'm so sorry
i really don't know if i like this or not but oh well
Days like these are the worst. The ones where it’s easier to stay quiet and closed off than feign smiles and laughter.
It’s not often that you succumb to these mood swings, but when you do it’s difficult to get out. Thoughts swirl around your head - everything and nothing all at once. Messages stay unread, unanswered and calls are declined by the first ring. The curtains stay shut and you move about the world, eyes sullen and lips downturned in a small frown. A ghost of yourself.
Sometimes all that you ache to do is to reach out and hold someone you love and remind them of it, and have everything as normal as it used to be before you shut yourself out.
But by then it’s become a routine, one where people know not to bother you because no matter what they do or what they say, none of them can break you out of your shell.
It’s only ever Max who can do that.
His smile, his smell, his touch, his presence is the one thing that can bring you back down to earth. Day after day, he reminds you that he’s always there waiting for you at the end of your bouts. You’ve come to rely on him to know what to do when you’re like this - God knows you can barely think straight, so caught up in your own head that you don’t realise what’s going on around you.
It’s hard for him to help you if he doesn’t know, though. It’s been ten days since you’ve seen him in person, and four days since you’ve spoken to anyone but him. The isolation has fallen like a blanket over you, warm and comforting but a barrier to the world you aren’t willing to remove. Except for Max.
See, it’s far more simple to fake normalcy over text than in person, and although Max knows you better than anyone else, even he can’t tell that you’ve closed yourself off through the messages you send back and forth.
Come Wednesday night and you weren’t expecting him home, but the click of the front door is a pleasant surprise. You’re swaddled in the warmth of your bed, an old movie playing softly in the background as you watch with hooded eyes.
He calls out for you, and you can hear the scuff of his feet as he slips his shoes off, making his way through his house in search of you.
“In the room,” you call back.
Max raps lightly against your bedroom door, peeking in when you don’t respond. His face lights up at the sight of you. He rushes to your side, grabbing your face to kiss you in greeting. “Hi, schatje.”
“Hi, bub,” you say. You hug him tightly, but your grip isn’t as strong as it usually is, to the point where Max has to tap out to breathe as he jokes that you’re suffocating him.
Instead, you burrow your face into his neck, inhaling the strong scent of his cologne, hands tracing the lines of muscle on his back. It's a weak attempt in grounding yourself, but the heaviness that weighs down your shoulders is still there after a moment in his embrace.
So you just groan inwardly, moving to brush your cheek against his. “Good day?”
He hums in affirmation as he rears back a bit, blue eyes mapping the slope of your face. One look at your withdrawn figure and he can tell.
The bed dips when he sits beside you. He starts to rub comforting circles on your back, big palm warm against your chilly flesh. In his mind, he’s already formulating the right plan, following an unspoken routine that he keeps for times like these.
He’s never been the best at reasoning with others, but for you, he speaks with the softest voices, comes to the most understanding solution if that’s what it takes to bring you back to him.
“How about we go out for dinner, and if you don’t feel like eating more than an entrée, we can leave?” He compromises. When he’s met with silence, Max pulls you in closer, his lips lovingly meeting your temple as he murmurs, “Please, I’ve missed you, I want to spend time with you. Just an hour.”
You relax into his touch with a resigned sigh. “Fine. One hour. Then we go home.”
—
Dinner is far from good.
You sit there, picking at the Greek salad you’d ordered, pushing the greens around your plate. Max is sat awkwardly across from you, forking pasta into his mouth in long intervals.
The restaurant buzzes around you, waiters bustling about with silverware and stacked arms of dirty dishes. A couple next to you, bouyantly joyful, clink wine glasses and talk with wide smiles. You can't help the spark of jealousy in your chest at the sight of them. It should be you who's as cheerful as they are, having a great night with the love of your life as you mark his return home.
And yet, you can't find it in yourself to speak.
It takes for you to drain your second glass of wine before Max tries to break the silence. “How has work been?”
“Good,” you mumble. “But I’ve called in sick for the last three days. Didn’t feel like leaving home.”
“You didn’t mention that to me.” Max frowns, dropping his fork onto his plate. He reaches out to grab your hand, your smaller palm fitting perfectly into the crevices of his calloused one. “You should’ve told me.”
You shrug dismissively. “I didn't want to bother you with it.”
“That's bullshit, you could never bother me. Not with things like this.” His eyes hold a pity that you can't bear to see. The carvings on the edge of the wooden table suddenly become far more interesting, and you waver under his gaze.
It doesn't take long for you to bite out a harsh, “Can we leave now?”
He inhales, like he wants to say something. But then he mutters a low fuck before calling for the waiter's attention. As the man starts to make his way to you, you stand abruptly, chair screeching so loud against the tiled floor that even Max winces at the pitch.
“I'm gonna wait in the car, yeah?”
You barely lasted forty-five minutes.
—
If you thought the car ride was going to be any better, you were greatly mistaken. If anything, it's been far more tense than anything you've ever experienced with Max.
Your fists are curled, nails pressing crescent-moon indents into the sofy skin, and you have your teeth clenched so tightly, your gums and jaw are beginning to ache.
Max’s demeanour, however, is the complete opposite of yours. The sleeves of his dress shirt have been folded up to his elbows (courtesy of you; he’s always been the kind of get his cuffs dirty while eating), and he leans back in his seat, one hand on the steering wheel and the other in his lap, calmness and relaxation personified.
The car slows to a stop as he approaches a red light. On any other day, red lights are his opportunity to sneak a kiss from you, a touch, anything. But now, you stay staring ahead, refusing to meet his gaze.
“Oh, I love this song!” He exclaims suddenly. He taps the steering wheel in succession to the beats of the song playing on the radio, whistling in a half-assed attempt to keep a proper tune. Normally, the sound of his broken whistles would be enough to crack a smile out of you, make you howl in laughter as you tease him even.
But now, you just purse your lips and reach to turn the volume down, the biggest reaction he’s gotten out of you since the restaurant.
“Come on, schatje,” Max mutters dejectedly. “Don’t do that.”
Your silence is your greatest virtue though, so he takes it as a sign to stop, the car ride quiet all the way home.
You’re out of the car the moment Max turns the off the engine, door slamming loudly behind you.
Max trails behind you into the apartment, lights flickering on when he steps in. He watches you busy yourself with turning all the lights on and opening doors to let Jimmy and Sassy into the rooms.
It's just before you enter the kitchen - to pour yourself a cup of tea, he's ready to assume - when he rushes up to you. “Wait, wait.”
“What?” You frown in confusion.
Max just rests a light hand on your shoulder, guiding you to the comfort of your room. It's the first step to his master plan: take you somewhere familiar, somewhere you feel safe. He pushes you down on the edge of the bed and crouches in between your knees.
He grins up at you as your frown deepens. “What're you doing, bub?”
His fingers press into your cheeks, pushing them back to stretch your lips into the closest thing he can get to a smile. “See? It’s not the real thing, but that there’s the girl I know. Smiley.”
“Stop, Max,” you whine as you swat his arm away.
“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me,” he coaxes gently. “I know it’s one of those times but I can’t help make it better if you don’t tell me what caused it. I'm ready to talk about it when you are.”
Truth is, you really don’t know what caused it this time round. Sometimes, you can pinpoint the change to a certain event. Other times, it just happens. It’s so easy to stop smiling because it doesn’t feel like there’s a proper reason to. Because there’s no one to smile for, nothing to be happy about. Then the isolation turns you in on yourself, nothing to pull you from under that blanket of loneliness.
“I don’t know,” you admit. Your throat feels scratchy because of your prolonged silence and the words feel far too forced. “I just… wasn’t in the mood to be happy.”
His tone is soothing, raspy voice whispering with a care you’re more than familiar with. “Is it because I wasn’t there?”
You swallow the lump in your throat, shaking your head. Then you pause before nodding as an afterthought. “I don't know. Honestly.”
“Oh, schatje. It doesn’t have to be like that, you know. You don’t have to push people away.” He speaks to you softly, never falling into the cusp of condescending like how so many people have chosen to treat you in these times. He reaches over the console to brush loose strands of hair away from your face, pausing momentarily when you watch him with a desperation in your eyes. A look that pleads with him to help you leave this bad headspace.
“Sometimes,” you whisper, “it feels like there’s no point. I just want to stay home and stay silent and not have to do anything or listen to anyone. And I know I shouldn’t, so I don’t. But then it just happens even when I don’t mean for it to. I don’t know how to make it stop, Max.”
“I know you don't want it to,” Max laments, “and I know sometimes it feels like you can only find help here-” He taps your temple gently “-But it doesn't have to be like that. You don't have to shut me out or shut yourself out, and you definitely don't have to pretend that you're alright when I'm not here. So call me, text me. I'll answer, because I don't want you feeling alone. I don't want you to push me away. When I come home, I don't this version of you because it kills me to see you trapped in yourself. I want you. My smiley girl.”
His words tug at your heartstrings, a hurt that only comes about from caring too much. From loving too much. It's foolish, you know, to try and stop the tears but Max is more than consoling when it comes, brushing away your pain with the pads of his fingers.
“I'm sorry for being a bitch earlier.” But your apology needs no accepting.
Max rests your head against his shoulder, his shallow breaths calming your racing heart. He’s home and everything is right.
It’ll take a moment for it to go back to normal, though. For your home to light up again, for the messages on your phone to be answered and for your friends to become your people again. But it’ll happen. It always does.
Then with a soft kiss to your forehead, Max cements his place in your heart. “Now smile for me.”
—
author’s note: and if only i had a max for times like these lol i think i'd be a bit more sane
@namgification @lipringlrh @queen-aria-things @disneyprincemuke @demvnsriot @hiireadstuff @33-81 let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!
#liyah writes#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen angst#formula one x you#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine
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Little Black Dress
➪the one where you and the pogues are invited to a fancy party at the cameron’s, and jj can’t seem to keep his hands (and lips) off you.
Warnings: smut, fluff, kook reader, pda, semipublic smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, established relationship, altered plot, swearing, dom jj
Word Count: 3.7k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
“No,” was the first word that came out of JJ’s mouth as soon as you stepped out of your bedroom wearing the newest article of clothing that was added to your wardrobe. It was a simple but cute black dress you thought would look nice on you at the dinner party the Cameron’s were throwing at their house. “Absolutely not.”
Apparently JJ thought differently. “What?” You frowned, looking down at the dress self-consciously. “I thought it looked nice. Cute, you know?”
“Cute?” JJ asked in disbelief, uncrossing his arms as he stood up straight from his slouched position against the wall. “No, you don’t look cute, Y/n. You look fucking hot. Go change.”
A startled laugh escapes you as you look back up at him. “Wait, you think I look hot, yet you want me to go change?”
JJ nodded, and it looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes locked on yours instead of letting them trail up and down your body. “Yes,” he answered as it was the easiest question he’d ever been asked. “It’s bad enough that this is the best I could find, I don’t need you showing me up even more than you already do.”
He gestures to his simple white button up and dress pants he wore when he was a waiter for about three hours before he got fired. You laughed as you looked him up and down. “I think you look hot, too,” you shrug. “I don’t want you to go change though.”
“Baby,” he nearly whined as he reached for your hips. “Please go change into something that won’t give me a boner all throughout fucking dinner. John B will never let me live it down.”
You laugh again and brace your hands on his shoulders as you stand in between his legs. “You can make it through one dinner Jay,”
JJ groaned and leaned in to rest his forehead on your shoulder, his hands trailing further down your body. “One dinner might as well be one hundred,” he hummed, his hands skimming past your lower back.
“JJ,” you warn and he lifts his head to give you an innocent look. “Don’t start, alright? You’ll just make things harder.”
It was a poor choice of words, and you knew that the second you saw the smirk form on his lips. “I know one thing that’s already hard,”
You scoff and push him away with a laugh. “That’s your own fault,” you shrug again and begin walking away from him.
“My fault?” He muttered as he followed after you. “You come out wearing the hottest dress I’ve ever seen and it’s my fault for reacting to it?”
“Yes,” you answer, stepping outside into the cool summer air. It was deathly hot earlier, but thankfully it had cooled down pretty significantly now that it was nearing the evening. “You just had to go ahead and touch me when you knew we need to leave soon.”
“I won’t apologize for that,” he shrugged just as John B pulled up in The Twinkie.
“You’ll just have to deal with it,” you mumble as Pope opens the back door for you.
JJ muttered something under his breath, then he was getting into the van as well and sitting extremely close to you. “Everything okay back there?” Kie asked when she turned around from her place in the passenger seat and saw just how squished you were between Pope and JJ.
“Yeah, Kie,” your boyfriend replied, reaching around you to push on Pope’s shoulder. He took the hint and moved to sit across from you instead, and you glared at JJ.
“That was rude,” you whisper, gently nudging his side with your elbow. “He was keeping me company.”
JJ leaned in close so his lips were brushing against the shell of your ear. “I’m all the company you need,” he murmured and you froze for a second and had to hold back a surprised moan. “And you look fucking hot in this dress. I can’t wait to take it off you at the party.”
You actually did whimper as you turned to gaze up at him with wide eyes, and he just smirked at you as Kie let out a laugh of disbelief. “Guys, are we seriously going to the fucking Cameron’s for a dinner party?”
John B looked over at her as he turned left down the street that leads to the fancier part of town. “Hey, Sarah really wants us to come. I promised her we would be there,” he defended his girlfriend. “And you can’t lie and tell me that you haven’t been actually getting along with her.”
“Sarah’s fine,” Kie mumbled. “The rest aren’t.”
“Give them a chance, Kie,” Pope said from his place behind her. “We gave Y/n a chance, and now she’s one of us. Richer than all of us combined, but still one of us.”
JJ lifted his head from where it was against your neck and glared at his friend. “Shut up, Pope,” he grunted, pulling you tighter against his side. “Y/n was never like that. She never gave us a reason to not like her.”
You smile at him and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, one that had him fighting off a grin as he turned to his left and reached around the driver’s seat to grab John B’s shoulder.
“Unlike this one, who is dating the girl who cost him his job with her dad,” he added and John B flipped him off through the rearview mirror.
“Sarah’s not like that, either,”
“Whatever you say,” JJ laughed, leaning back and looking down at you with poorly hidden lust in his eyes.
You had to keep your eyes off him for the rest of the ride, otherwise you were sure you would end up doing something indecent to him in front of your friends.
When you arrived at Sarah’s house, she ran out and greeted you all before kissing John B and tugging him inside. Pope scoffed as he watched the two disappear inside the massive house, “Oh, don’t worry, we’ll just find our own way around your giant fucking mansion,”
Kie laughed and shoved him a bit as the two of them walked through the double doors, leaving you and JJ outside. He turned to you with a pleading look, his hand reaching for yours. “We can still go back,” he tempted you by wiggling his brows. “I can think of many things that are a lot more fun than sitting down with a bunch of Kooks for three hours.”
You roll your eyes and take his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “Come on, party boy,” you laughed as you pulled him with you. “You can make it through a few hours.”
JJ groaned but followed after you. “Alright, but I’m telling you right now, I won’t be able to take my hands off you when we’re at the table,”
You blushed and tried pulling your hand out of his, but he just pulled you closer then wrapped his arm around your waist. Pope, who was standing in the entryway of the dining room must’ve heard JJ’s dirty promise, as he snorted before saying, “Might not be able to live up to that, JJ,”
JJ furrowed his brows then looked over Pope’s shoulder. “No way,”
John B was sitting across the table from Sarah, Rafe, who looked hilariously miserable, was sitting across from Wheezie, and Ward was sitting across from Rose. “Oh,” you trailed off, watching as John B and Sarah practically eye fucked each other. “Guys sit across from the girls..?” You asked, earning a tight nod from Rose before she downed whatever was in her glass. She clearly didn’t want to be here either, and it was her own house.
“Y/n,” Ward greeted with a charming smile that faded when he looked to your left and at your boyfriend. “JJ…welcome. Come on in, have a seat.”
JJ turned to you with a look of warning in his eyes. “Let’s go,” he mumbled. “I’m serious.”
You bit back a laugh and quickly escaped his hold in order to sit next to Kie. Pope sighed before sitting across from her, leaving JJ to sit in between him and Rafe.
“Fuck,” he muttered, knowing damn well that he would only ever do something like this for you and you only. With a barely hidden eye roll, he sits next to Rafe and Pope, refusing to acknowledge the Kook next to him as he looks at you from across the table. “This is fucked.” He mouthed to you just as Ward stood up.
You held back a laugh as you broke eye contact in order to pay attention to the man you were sure Sarah begged to let her organize this whole thing. “I just want to thank you all for coming. I know things have been tense lately, but I think this is a great opportunity for us all to get to know each other. It’s always nice to know who my little girl is hanging around with these days,” he nodded at Sarah who just smiled at him. “With that being said, enjoy the food, everyone.”
With the ice being broken, you watched as almost everyone began picking at the food on their plates. Everyone except JJ, who just braced his elbows on the table and stared at you. You nodded towards his plate, but he shook his head. “This is torture,” he mouthed and you softly glared at him.
“Eat,” you mouthed back, your eyes flickering between his and his plate. “What is your issue?”
“I can’t touch you,” he mouthed a little too audibly, earning a glare from Rafe that JJ promptly ignored.
You gave him a pointed look, and when he still made no move to pick up his fork, you gently kicked his leg under the table. He jumped slightly, his eyes widening as if he couldn’t believe you actually just did that, then he huffed defeatedly and grabbed his fork.
You smile then pucker your lips at him, laughing at the way he rolled his eyes but let a small grin form on his face.
Soon enough everyone was having their own little conversations, and it was going surprisingly okay, but despite your best efforts, you were getting bored. You could tell that JJ was, too, as he grabbed his glass and spun the liquid around instead of actually drinking it.
When Ward announced that he was going to go get dessert, an idea formed in your head and you smirked. You lean back in your chair and kick your heels off from under the table, then you extend your leg out until your foot grazes JJ’s knee. Your smirk grew when he jumped again, nearly spilling his drink as he registered that it was you who was touching him.
He met your eyes with a look of warning, but you ignored it. Just as Ward came back with two trays of cake and pie, you slid your foot higher until it was trailing along JJ’s thigh, and his knees hit the underside of the table as he reached under and grabbed hold of your ankle. “Y/n,” he muttered, ignoring the many sets of eyes on him at the loud noise. “Come with me.”
Your smirk faded as he gently pushed your leg away from him then stood up, and you had to hold back a moan at the dangerous look in his eyes. “Why?” You managed to ask as Ward set the trays down onto the table.
“Now,” was the answer you were given, then JJ looked over at Ward. “You don’t mind if we’re excused for a few minutes, do you?”
He really wasn’t asking, and Ward knew that as he nodded and sat back down. “Not at all, take your time,” he was honestly probably happy to have you and JJ leave, even if just for a little while.
JJ turned back to you then made a beeline for the doorway, and you were left to quickly stand up and follow after him on shaky legs. “Sorry, we…we forgot..something,” you make up the worst excuse of your life before fleeing the room in search of your riled up boyfriend.
You hadn’t even made it halfway down the hallway before a hand wrapped around your wrist and you were pulled towards JJ’s chest. “You got some nerve, you know that?” He asked and before you could say a word, he pressed his lips to yours and effectively shut you up. You whined against his mouth when he deepened the kiss, then he pulled away and left you craving more. JJ hummed as he lifted his hand and tugged at your bottom lip. “What do you say, baby? Why don’t we explore this house a bit?”
Nodding and in a daze, he takes your hand in his and pulls you along with him as he heads towards the staircase. He let out a low whistle as you and he ascended the stairs, and you were breathless, too, but for a different reason.
“Look at this fucking place,” he grunted, glancing at you as you and he reached the second floor. “Look at all these empty rooms.”
You swallow hard as he grabs your hips and pushes you against a wall. “JJ,” you whisper and he smirks before leaning down and kissing you. Your arms wrap around his neck as you moan into the kiss, just as needy as he is even though you were better at hiding it. “Are we really doing this?”
JJ pulled away and took your hand again. “Oh yeah, we’re doing this,” he answered and you gave him a wide eyed look that he scoffed at. “Don’t give me that look, you’re the one who decided to tease me under the table.”
Your eyes widened as he opened a random door and pulled you in with him. “My heels, Jay,” you gasp. “They’re still down there. Oh, my God, that makes it so obvious as to what we’re doing.”
JJ raised a brow. “Baby, I think it was obvious from the second we left that table,” he laughed then turned to observe the room he chose. “Jesus, even the bathrooms are massive.”
You huff out a quiet laugh and start to walk around him to observe the room yourself, but you don’t get very far before JJ wraps his arms around you and pulls you back to him. You stumble a bit but then are lifted up and set on the marble countertop next to the sink. “You’re impatient,” you tease, running your hands along his shoulders.
“Can you blame me?” He asked, leaning in and kissing your neck. “You look so hot, baby.”
You whimper at his words, tugging on his shirt. “JJ,”
“I know,” he groaned, lifting you up effortlessly and sliding your panties down your legs. “Baby, I love you, but if you ever make me go to another dinner party with a bunch of fucking Kook’s, I might never speak to you again.”
His threat was empty and it had you laughing before you cut yourself off with a moan as he sunk to his knees and wrapped his lips around your clit. His hands pushed your sinful dress up until it pooled around your waist, and you reached out to grab hold of his hair. “Oh, fuck,” you bite your lip and looked cautiously at the closed door.
You’d been secretly turned on since the second you saw JJ dressed in his take on a formal outfit, and that much was clear as his tongue poked out to run along your already soaked slit. JJ hummed at the feeling of your wetness coating his taste buds, “I knew you needed this just as much as I did,”
Your face heats up as you place your other hand flat on the counter behind you. “You dressed yourself, you know how good you look, Jay,”
He laughed, pulling away as he tugged your body closer to the edge of the counter. JJ pressed his cheek against your knee as he stared up at you, sliding one of his hands up your thigh until his fingers were ghosting over your core. “You want me to get you off on my tongue, baby? Or do you want the real thing?”
You bite your lip as his index and middle fingers slip into you. “I want,” you trial off, wanting him to make you come more than once during this little sneak off from the party, but you also didn’t want to ditch them for too long. You whine as you pull him so he is standing up, and you tug him towards you while reaching down to grope him through his pants. “I want this.”
JJ smirked, kissing you deeply as he pushed your dress down and palmed your breasts in his much bigger hands. You moan into the kiss as you unzip his dress pants and push them and his boxers down just enough to free his hard cock. He slipped his tongue into your mouth as you guided his tip up and down your soaked folds, and you shared a groan at the feeling.
“Please,” you begged, tugging at the buttons on his shirt until the top of his chest was exposed. “Please, Jay.” You knew how much he loved when you begged him, and it had the reaction you knew it would, which was a quick thrust of his hips until he was buried deep within you.
JJ groaned loudly, knowing damn well how massive this house was and that there was no way anyone would be able to hear you. “Fuck,” he grunted, grabbing your hip with one hand while his other squeezes at your chest. His thumb and index finger pinch and tug at your nipple until it’s impossibly tight, then he leans down and does the same thing to the other, but this time with his lips and tongue.
You jolt and kick the lower cabinet by accident, but neither of you care about the loud noise you just made as you let the lust take over. “Oh, my God,” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist as he begins to fuck into you. “Fuck.”
JJ sucked in a breath through his teeth as your walls tightly gripped him, inviting him in deeper and deeper with every thrust of his hips. You felt so good, and he knew that, which is why he couldn’t wait until he got you back to your house after the party to do this. He probably would’ve come in his pants if he had to wait that long.
With that being said, there is no way he is lasting long now. Not with the way you clung onto him as he fucked you, and the way your saliva coated chest brushed against his.
You were already a moaning mess as he trailed his hand down and began rubbing circles onto your clit, and the new pressure only made you louder. JJ would proudly admit if you asked him that he loved the way you sounded for him, and loved how you weren’t afraid to get vocal at times like this.
“Jesus, Jay,” you whimpered, biting down on your puffy lip that was swollen from his harsh kisses. You gripped the edge of the counter tightly with one hand, the other tangling in his blond hair as he fucked you hard and fast. Usually he liked to take his time with you and really worship your body for as long as he could, but this had to be quicker than normal for obvious reasons.
“I know,” he grunted, pinching and pulling at your clit as he worked you open. He watched as he became more and more coated in your arousal with each thrust, and his jaw locked when you tilted your head back and pressed your chest against his. You looked so fucked out and hot, he was still in shock that he somehow managed to get you to agree to be his. “I know.”
“Fuck,” you nearly, cried, pressing your heels against his lower back and letting the sides of your thighs rest on the cool marble of the counter. It gave him the best view of your dripping core and it took a lot out of JJ to not come right then and there.
“Fuck, Y/n,” he rasped, fucking into you even harder than before, determined to make you come first. “Tell me you’re close, baby.”
You whimper, lifting your head and kissing him deeply. “I’m close, Jay,”
“Thank fuck,” he huffed, earning a soft laugh from you as you tensed up. “Come for me, baby. Come on me.”
“Oh, fuck,” you moaned loudly, bracing yourself on shaky arms as you coated his cock in your release. “Fuck…fuck.”
The added wetness and the way you were still clenching around him was all JJ needed as he came deep within your throbbing and pulsing walls, a deep grunt leaving the back of his throat. “God, Y/n,” he breathed out as he stilled inside you, watching with squinted eyes as you push yourself up and grin at him. “The things you do to me.”
You laugh as he leans down to kiss the tops of your breasts before pulling your dress back up. “I don’t want to go back downstairs now,” you blushed under his intense gaze, taking it upon yourself to button his shirt back up. “That was too good.”
It was always good with him, and he knew that, which is why he strived to give it to you better each time. “We could always just sneak out a window, steal The Twinkie and go back to your place,” he suggested as he slowly pulled out of you.
You watched with parted lips as he grabbed your panties and shoved them into his pocket, then he zipped his pants up with a smirk. “But that pie Ward brought out looked really good,” you pouted and JJ laughed, walking back over to you and tugging at your lip.
“Fine, we’ll stay for pie,” he stated, lifting you off the counter. He leaned down to press a final kiss to your mouth, smiling at you when he pulled away and took your hand in his. “Then I’m taking you home.”
#jj x reader#jj maybank smut#jj obx#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj x y/n#outer banks x reader#obx#rudy pankow#jj x you#jj maybank imagine#obx fic#obx fanfiction#obx smut#jj smut#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#outer banks jj#jj outer banks
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Fall Into Me - Chapter Nine: I'd Fall for You Twice if That's What You Wanted
dbf!Joel x f!reader
Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.
Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.
Word Count: 3.2k
Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings. Sarah, Tommy, Emily, and JB unknowingly banding together for the win. Joel is his own warning. Inappropriate (or entirely appropriate?) use of a massager. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).
Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!
Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics
Chapter Eight | Main Masterlist
“Girl, you’ve got it baaad,” Emily teased, watching you eye your phone every five seconds. The pair of you were getting drinks at your favorite watering hole the Saturday before your first full week of officially teaching.
“I can’t help it, Em. He’s got this, like, hold over me or something,” you replied sheepishly, one hand tucking your phone away in your back pocket. You were starting to annoy yourself with how often you checked for texts from Joel.
“You’re in love, that’s what happens.” Emily shrugged and sipped at her fruity mixed drink. “How’d the holidays go?”
Your expression lit up as you told Emily about your first major holidays with the Millers. Having spent some holidays with them while you were still away at school, your dad already fit into their family dynamic seamlessly. You were a happy and much-loved addition to the festivities and there was plenty of laughter among the adults at how badly Tommy botched dinner for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. Why Joel and your dad ever let him try again after the wreck that was Thanksgiving dinner was beyond you. Thankfully, your dad saved the day both times with his unparalleled grilling skills.
“So, it’s safe to say that JB’s still happy about you and Joel being together?” Emily asked after your own laughter at recounting the mess died down.
“Is he ever,” you replied with a shake of your head. “He loves to rib Joel on making an honest woman out of me. Joel takes it in stride, but I’m kinda afraid that it’ll scare him off if my dad keeps it up.”
“Oh, please! That man is clearly head over fuckin’ heels for you. Hell, he’s already told you and JB that he loves you, he’s not goin’ anywhere!” After taking another sip of her drink, Emily shot you a pointed look. “When the hell am I gonna meet Joel, anyway? I feel like you’re actively hiding him from me.”
You stilled.
Were you doing that? You didn’t think so, not at first, but… If you were honest with yourself, there was an element of truth to Emily’s accusation.
“Shit, Em. I’m not doing it purposefully, I swear,” you replied beseechingly, pausing to figure out how to properly explain things. Finding a scratch in the tabletop suddenly fascinating, you stared at it while continuing. “I just have to share him so much already, between Sarah and my dad, even his brother – not that I begrudge him spending time with any of them, especially Sarah! It’s just… when I have time with him, I want to keep him to myself. You know what I mean?”
God, that made you sound so selfish. You looked up to find Emily grinning at you.
“What?” you asked, confused.
“I’ve never seen you so in love. It looks good on you.” Emily clinked her now empty glass against your half-full one. “Just promise me that I’ll get to meet him soon. We could do a double date or something, so it doesn’t take away too much of your precious alone time.”
Over another round of drinks, you made plans for a few Fridays from now, quietly hoping Joel wouldn’t mind.
Heading home, you longed to see Joel, but it was late, and he was spending time with Sarah. He went to great lengths to make sure his daughter did not feel left out or neglected while the two of you explored your relationship, setting aside time for just the two of them to hang out. You loved that about him and knew how important that quality time was for Sarah. Besides, you planned to head over there tomorrow to get a little quality time of your own ahead of the busy week ahead.
In the morning, you slept in and lazed around the house for a while, taking the opportunity to relax and ease into your day while your dad puttered around until mid-day. You hadn’t heard from Joel, but that didn’t bother you – he knew you planned to come over. Around one o’clock, you headed over to the Millers, picking up some pizza and beer on the way.
Pulling up in front of the house, you found your usual spot in the driveway taken by your dad’s truck while Tommy’s truck blocked the remaining space. With a huff you parked along the curb. You would have ordered more pizza if you knew everyone would be here.
“Howdy boys,” you greeted as you walked in. “I come bearing pizza and beer, though I fear we’ll need lots more with this crew.”
Only one set of eyes turned away from the football game playing on TV as they all greet you in return. Getting up from his beloved corner spot on the couch, Joel took the pizza and beer from your hands and placed them on the coffee table before pulling you into the kitchen for a proper greeting.
“Hi darlin’, I’ve missed you,” Joel murmured, his voice already raspy from yelling at the TV. He pulled you close until your bodies were flush together and kissed you deeply. Like a magnet, your fingers threaded through his messy curls, tugging gently as he nibbled your bottom lip.
“Mmm, I missed you, too, handsome. Didn’t know you were having company.”
Joel flashed his big cow eyes at you, eyebrows pinched together regretfully. “’M sorry, baby. I didn’t know they were coming by to watch the game ‘til they got here. Apparently, my TV is the best, so here they are. Hope that’s ok. I’ll kick ‘em right the hell out if you want me to.”
The thought did cross your mind.
“Nah, enjoy the game with the boys. I’ll sit with you guys for a bit then hang with Sarah until they leave.” Still wrapped in each other’s arms, you nuzzled the tanned skin of Joel’s neck and he hummed.
“You gonna stay over?”
You shouldn’t, not on a school night – your first as a bona fide teacher – but you had so little time together. “Sure. Just don’t keep me up too late, Mister. Those kids are exhausting, and I need my energy for the first day.”
“Miller! Stop neckin’ with my daughter and get your ass out here!” your dad’s voice bellowed through the house, causing the two of you to spring apart.
“Jesus, Dad,” you sighed, pecking Joel on the lips one last time before following him out to the living room. When would the game be over?
Surprisingly, you enjoyed the time watching the game with everyone. Even Sarah came down to join you all at half-time, book in hand, and sat between you and Joel reading. It was a lovely afternoon and a lovelier night as Joel held you in his arms, whispering words of praise into your hair until you fell into a deep slumber.
Your first week of teaching passed in a blur. After a month of assisting the prior teacher before his official retirement, the students knew you and respected your authority, setting the stage for an overall lovely experience. You started off with earth science lessons and most of the kids were engaged and eager to learn. Of course, you had a few little challenges with difficult students testing their boundaries, but you felt good about the way you handled each situation.
You stayed later after the students were dismissed, using the time to organize the room to your liking and get the lesson plans in order. Sarah perched at one of the long wooden tables working on her homework while you completed your tasks. The pattern offered you and Sarah some quality time together and the young girl found great enjoyment in putting you on the spot, especially when her dad was the topic at hand.
“JB keeps telling dad he needs to marry you,” Sarah blurted randomly Friday afternoon. “Do you want to?”
Staring at her wide-eyed, unsure what to say, you merely shrugged. Why was everyone so focused on the two of you getting married? You only started dating a few months ago!
Tilting her head to the side with a little smirk, Sarah replied, “That’s not a ‘no’.”
She was getting to be as bad as your dad and Tommy.
“You could be my stepmom! I always wanted one since I didn’t get to have a regular mom.”
Despite Sarah’s cheerfulness at the idea, your heart ached for all the real mom-related experiences she didn’t get to have. You knew exactly how that felt. If marrying Joel wasn’t already something you hoped for in the future, it would be after hearing Sarah expressing her desire for a stepmom, for you as a stepmom.
Sarah kept talking, while you lost yourself in thought.
Would you be a good stepmom?
God, you hoped so.
You never had one, JB chose to never get too serious with anyone after your mom, but you heard enough horror stories from your friends about their own stepmoms through the years. It sounded like a thankless job. But all the people you knew with stepparents had both birth parents still in their lives, so maybe your experience would be different.
The late bell chimed, drawing you out of your ever-spiraling thoughts.
“Come on, nugget. Let’s get you home,” you said, pushing thoughts of marriage and step parenthood to the farthest recesses of your mind.
“If you’re not gonna marry my dad, could you at least move in with us? It would be so great if you lived with us!”
Jesus fucking Christ in a handbasket. This kid sure knew how to keep you on your toes.
Leaning over the bar top with hunched shoulders and an aching back, Joel picked at the label on the beer bottle. He didn’t often visit the bar after work, not since Sarah came into his life, but he finally had some extra money and felt like treating himself. You stopped letting him pay you months ago, when the two of you became more to each other than just babysitter and boss, and he stashed that money away each week, saving it for what he didn’t know.
At his side, Tommy carried on about some chick he met a few weeks ago. A pretty attorney who was way out of his league and already turned him down twice. Like a dog with a bone, Tommy showed no signs of giving up yet.
“You better be careful, brother. She may get a restraining order against you if you don’t take it easy,” Joel said, voice a rich rumble.
Tommy waved him off with a chortle. “Oh please. She’s loving it. Chicks like that like being pursued.”
“If you say so.” Joel didn’t know this woman or what she liked, but he knew for a fact that you would hate it if a guy relentlessly pursued you after turning him down, not once, but twice. He smiled at the thought of you kicking a guy like that in the fucking balls to prove that you were very much not interested.
He full on laughed at the thought of you kicking his little brother in the balls, causing Tommy to glance sideways at him.
“What’s so funny, huh?”
“Nothin’,” Joel grumbled, clearing his throat. Thoughts of you continued to invade his mind, just like they always did. You were always on his mind, and he loved it. If only you were always in his bed… Joel cleared his throat. “Hey, uh. How do you know if it’s too early to ask a girl to move in?”
Tommy groaned. “Why you always askin’ me this shit? How am I supposed to know? I have less actual relationship experience than you do.”
“Who else am I supposed to ask, huh? JB? Don’t imagine that’d go over too well,” Joel replied with a defeated shrug, but Tommy conceded the point.
“You need more friends, man.” Clearing his throat, Tommy gave it a moment’s thought. “Well, the way I see it, you love her, and she loves you, everyone knows it, and JB and Sarah are both happy for the two of you. Moving in together seems like the logical next step, right?”
Joel nodded, still uncertain.
“Only the two of you can know if the pace is right. Seems to me like you both waited long enough for the right one to come along. You’ve both been through some shit, why waste any more time?”
Damn, when did his little brother become so insightful?
“Alright, I get your point. Do you think she’ll say yes if I ask?” As secure as he was in your love for each other, Joel still floundered a bit at each new step in the relationship department.
“I dunno, brother. You’re just gonna have to grow a pair and find out.”
“Fuckin’ grow a pair,” Joel grumbled, punching Tommy in the arm, hard.
The pair bickered through another round, like brothers do, before calling it an evening. Eager to see you and Sarah, Joel didn’t want to waste away the evening in the bar with Tommy. As they walked out to their trucks, Tommy stopped Joel with a hand on his shoulder.
“Listen, brother. In all seriousness, I think she’ll say yes, so just ask, ok?”
Joel nodded his thanks and confirmed plans for watching the game at his place on Sunday, before climbing into his truck. The trip home didn’t take long, and for that Joel was grateful. His back ached after a busy week of hard labor followed by an hour sitting hunched over the bar. He’d kill for a massage.
The house was quiet when he walked in, no sign of you or Sarah on the ground floor. Kicking off his work boots and dropping the truck keys onto the hook near the door, Joel slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor.
Light flooded into the hall from Sarah’s bedroom, the sound of giggles and low voices echoing in the air. He moved slowly, quietly, until he could just peek around the door jamb. You sat on Sarah’s bed, the little girl perched in front of you, as you braided her wiry curls.
The sight melted Joel’s insides into a gooey puddle.
This. This was exactly what he wanted to come home to everyday.
He had to ask you to move in.
Just as he straightened up with a silent groan, ready to enter the room, Sarah’s sweet little voice left him frozen in place.
“I think you’d make the best stepmom.”
“This again,” you griped playfully. “You do, huh? Why?”
Was this something Sarah brought up before? Joel held his breath, waiting for Sarah’s response.
“Because you love my dad and you love me, you’re always kind even when things go wrong, you’re smart, and you like spending time with me. But most of all, because you do the things a mom does even though you’re not my mom and you don’t have to.”
He caught your gasp even though you tried to hide it from Sarah. You were as affected by Sarah’s heartfelt, innocent confession as he was. His adorable, sweet little girl knew you’d make a great stepmom and he agreed with all her reasons. If possible, he fell further in love with you in that moment after seeing you through his daughter’s eyes.
“Well, you’re right, nugget. I do love you and your dad, and I hope that one day, when the time is right, I can be your stepmom. Until then, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing, ok? I’ll still love you to pieces even without the official title.”
You choked out the words, on the verge of tears, and Joel felt his own eyes begin to water. Unable to bear it any longer, he swept through the doorway and pulled you both against his chest in a big bear hug. His precious girls. He loved you both more than words could express.
“Daddy! You’re squeezing too tight! Imma burst!” Sarah shrieked with laughter as he tossed her onto the bed and began tickling her with one hand, his other still holding your close.
“Did you…” Your eyes searched his, a hint of worry hiding in their depths, and Joel grinned, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.
“I heard it all,” Joel confirmed, confidence bolstered knowing you wanted to marry him at some point. Conveying every feeling held in his heart through his eyes, he added, “Move in with us. Please.”
Your eyes flicked back and forth between his, searching for confirmation. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, darlin’.”
The three of you celebrated with ice cream after you agreed to move in with them before putting Sarah to bed. By then, Joel’s back ached something fierce and you offered to use the message gun he forgot he had.
“Lay face down on the bed, my love,” you directed, watching with adoration as he tugged the shirt over his head, jeans hanging low on his hips. The muscles rippled in his arms and back as he settled on the soft mattress. “Ready?”
“Yes,” Joel murmured, huffing when you climbed over him to straddle his ass.
Turning on the massage gun, you put it on the middle setting and pressed the ball against the flesh of his traps. Even through the device, you could feel how tight those muscles were. It must be where he held his tension. Over the next half hour, you worked the massager over his back, soaking in the grunts that bordered on pain and relief. Somewhere along the way, the groans turned pleasurable, and Joel rolled onto his back, leaving you to straddle his thighs as the bulge in his jeans grew.
Joel’s hands moved to undo the button on his jeans, but you batted his hand away with a mischievous grin. With wide, wondrous eyes, he watched you adjust the setting on the massager and run it along the seam of his pants.
“Oh fuck,” he hissed, cock twitching with interest at the vibration. “Don’t stop.”
Hands gripping your hips, he bucked up into the delightful buzz of the massager, a steady stream of moans falling from his lips as the vibrations spread from his balls upwards to the head of his cock. Fuck, if it felt that good through his jeans, how good would it feel directly on his cock?
“Do you want me to increase the speed setting?” you purred, pressing the massager harder against him.
“Oh God, fuck. Yes… ungh. Please.” The words fell from his lips in a series of whimpers as you adjusted the settings. Within moments, he moaned a bit too loudly and came in his pants. You didn’t let up on the pressure though, the vibration drawing out his orgasm until every last drop of his load was blown and his body nearly convulsed with the overstimulation.
Chest heaving, he watched you switch off the massager and run your fingers along the large wet spot on his jeans, his cock twitching tiredly in response.
“That was fucking sexy,” you murmured, enthralled with the mess you just made of him.
“Yeah? Lemme see that thing. Think it’s my turn now, pretty girl.”
Tbc
Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx
@pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr
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#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel x female reader#the last of us#tlou#dbf!joel#Fall Into Me#pedro pascal#eventual smut#mutual pining#idiots in love
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Am i delulu or does raphael admire tav/durge? I know its him performing, but as gale says "inviting to dine with devil is devils equivilant of serenade and roses" and first scene where we meet him he does eye tav/durge througly from bottom to top. Also he says "im fan of your work" to durge. So idk?? It lowey feels like raphael is fond of us in game but i need proof/ professional analysis. [Ahem you are the professional mouse afterall heehee~]
He Loves Us, He Loves Us Not: What is Raphael’s Relationship with Tav/Durge?
*Puts on my little mouse glasses* I’m glad you asked. I’m summing up a few points that I have also written about in another analysis called ‘Raphael and weaponized mortality’, so if that sounds interesting, you can find it in my reading list.
Everything about Raphael screams wolf in sheep’s clothing (or a cambion in man’s clothing if you will). Here are a few points illustrating this:
Cambions naturally have a really predatory kind of stench to them because they are entirely carnivorous. Yet, he is described as a perfumed trickster who smells of cherries and sulphur, most likely because he is trying to cover up that smell.
Poetry, an art that is very dependent on nasty mortal concepts such as ‘feelings’, is something we know he uses a lot. He’s not really good at it and he even says it’s not his ‘main interest’ to Karlach in the second act. His theatrical nature and use of poetry humanizes him, and I think he is well-aware of this.
When you call him out as a devil in front of Mol, he says something about how she wouldn’t believe them anyway, ‘not with his angelic complexion’. We also know that Gortash’s parents sold him to a ‘warlock’ and that’s how he ended up with Raphael. I’ve seen multiple places that that warlock is supposed to be Raphael himself.
Now this all makes me believe that he usually does not reveal his true nature to his clients unless: 1) they’ve already signed, or 2) they are so utterly fucked that they have already reached the point of no return with him and are forced to take his deal no matter what.
Yet, he reveals his true nature to us from the get-go. Yes, one could argue that the tadpole-gang does fulfill option 2) according to him and that’s why he does it, but I think it could also be something else. I think he knows from early on that we are his best bet, so he chooses to lay out all his cards on the table and tries to build as much trust as he can from the beginning.
This is also the function of helping us with Astarion’s scars. Dealing with a devil when you’ve never dealt with one before? Scary. Dealing with a devil when he has proven once before to keep his word? Much less scary. He’s ‘grooming’ us for trusting him to keep his word with THE deal (and he gets to fuck over Daddy Meph by potentially robbing him of a lot of souls. Win-win.)
I think Gale is right on the money when he says that it’s ‘a devil’s equivalent to serenades and roses’. Raphael is like a bird or something. He’s showing off, charming us, but also reminding us that he is big and scary. Although despite the fact that he is big and scary ‘he simply wants to help us’.
He’s done his research and already knows everything about us, so he knows exactly how to play us. This is demonstrated in the comment to Durge in the beginning and the thing he says in Last Light if you tell him he knows nothing about you: “Don’t I indeed?.
I really think that we turn into an obsession for him at some point and that the lines between the obsession about the Crown and his obsession about us blurs. This seems definitely to be the case in his journals. I mean the poor guy has nightmares about us…
I also am so sure that he is not even trying to trick us into anything with the Orphic Hammer. He truly does believe that the Emperor is a threat to us. See this:
I DO think he admires us or at the very least is heavily rooting for us. I don’t remember the exact quotes, but Korrilla tells us in Sharess’s that her and Raphael made a bet about if we would make it to the Gate, and Raphael won that bet because we had. He really believes in our merry little band of idiots.
His reaction if we betray him is also very telling I feel like. Notice how his eyes widen for a moment before they narrow and say the ‘You’ line. He seems surprised. In that whole sequence he is obviously pissed, but most of all I also just get the feeling of a man that has been humiliated and who is angry that he had put so much time, work, and trust into us.
He says that ‘he is fond of us, in his way’ and that I completely believe. It might not be out of love or affection or anything like that, but he is as fond of us as a cambion can be of someone. We’ve grown on him, and he sees potential and use in us. We fascinate him and I’d even go as far to say that he respects us. I feel like even if you give him the Crown of Karsus and he gets to rule the Hells, he will not forget the people who brought him there. He would not flaunt the fact that he had mortals help him get the Crown, but I think that when he goes on his spree to fuck up the realms outside the Hells, Tav and gang would at the very least be spared or even given privileges in that new world order. Is that a bit fucked up? Yeah…But we have to remember what he is: a devil.
(Thank you so much for the ask <3 That became a long answer. I love to yap lol)
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What is one head canon you have for every individual member of the chain?
only one headcanon for each of them? 🥺
Time: I’ve definitely said this one before, but he is not at all trying to be fatherly. He does care about the boys a lot, but his fatherly actions are all completely unintentional, he has no idea some of them look up to him like a dad, and he has yet to realize he looks at some of them as his kids. In his mind he’s just being kind and brotherly. He has a hard time expressing emotions and seriously struggles with facial expressions, which is why he comes off as so hard to approach and seems more responsible and dad like, but that’s not the case at all. He’s just as chaotic as the others and seriously is oblivious to how some of them look up to him
Warriors: I headcanon he comes from a family of tailors (which is a headcanon ive seen before) who own a small shop in the little village he comes from (he’s not originally a city boy to me, he became a city boy later in life). His family also owns a small farm and he had big dogs growing up. Had the war never happened he’d probably still be with them, taking over his mom’s shop because he was the one most interested in it (i also headcanon he has a lot of siblings)
Twilight: He needs people to take care of or he won’t take care of himself. He just falls into such a slump if there’s no one for him to look after because he feels useless and unneeded. He’s a serious hoverer when one of the others are injured but he feels bad for hovering so he ends up sitting on the opposite side of camp looking like a wet dog and it’s just so sad looking 😭
Sky: I know a lot of people make him super sleepy or give him asthma because of his low stamina in Skyward Sword and also because he just always seems tired in that game, but for me Sky has epilepsy, and that’s why he has periods of time where he’s just absolutely exhausted
Hyrule: Not afraid of much and has a stomach of steel. This kid will eat anything and everything and will be completely fine. Bonus extra headcanon: I think he’s older than Legend
Legend: I headcanon he’s autistic and struggles to control the tone of his voice, and that’s why he can come off pretty harsh. He doesn’t mean to, he’s seriously pretty chill (unless Warriors is involved), but he can come off as disinterested or snappy when he really doesn’t mean to
Wild: Actually extremely good at handling his emotions and dealing with problems (compared to the others). He knows he gets overwhelmed and while he’s not the best at telling someone where he goes to blow off steam, he knows how to hold himself back and handle himself, and he’s perfectly capable of defending himself if something happens when he goes off alone. Sometimes he just needs to be alone, and if he really CANT be alone because it’s too dangerous, Wolfie will trail after him just for backup and keep his distance
Four: BIG reader, he loves to curl up with a good book but it’s hard for him to get his alone time to focus on what he’s reading while he’s traveling with the others. He will make up stories in his head when he can’t sleep or actually focus, and he’s a really animated story teller. He’s told a lot of campfire stories and when he’s doing those it’s one of the very few times the others actually shut up
Wind: Dyslexic and seriously struggles to read, but he absolutely LOVES to draw and would doodle all the time during any lessons anyone tried to give him ever. Give this kid a sketchbook and he’ll literally draw you a masterpiece. He loves sketching scenery and the others and he’s FREAKY good at it
#jes talks#jes ask#linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu time#lu warriors#lu twilight#lu sky#lu hyrule#lu legend#lu wild#lu four#lu wind#lu headcanons#jes headcanons
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|| series masterlist || CHAPTER ONE -> PREVIEW ||
parings -> riki nishimura x reader
genre -> non-idol au, school au, hyrbid au
warnings -> n/a
word count -> 1.1k
abstract -> he's perfect how he is... but can maybe change for her.
y/n’s perspective
“Niki, we always do this” I whined as he locked himself in the bathroom. I needed to get him ready for tonight’s party. If I didn’t have to go I wouldn’t… but with my family pushing me into choosing a major in business, they're making me befriend other kids from wealthy families.
“Please… I don’t want to go alone” I begged but he didn’t respond. It was running late and the driver would be here soon… so I might have to go alone today.
I gave up trying to convince him and did the final touches. Grabbing a jacket, fixing my makeup, and grabbing everything I needed.
When I left my room, I couldn’t help but smile.
“You’re gonna go with me?” I asked and he nodded. “I can’t let you go on your own” he muttered and I chuckled. “Besides, look at how forgetful you are,” he said as he pulled my hair roller off my bangs.
“Oh,” I said genuinely forgetting as he laughed at me.
“Do you–” “Yes, I have my tail ring on. I’m ready, now let's go before your dad starts calling”
Riki Nishimura was a stray hybrid I met when I was a kid. We were on a vacation trip to Japan when I saw him. I offered him some food I had on me and he took it from me to eat it like he was starved.
My parents were already wanting to get me a hybrid so I begged them to keep him. In which they reluctantly agreed. However, when we found out he wasn’t a normal black cat hybrid they agreed.
He was a panther hybrid, and so has been with me for years. We grew up together… However, my parents never liked how rowdy he was. Even now they tell me to get another hybrid, one that could join me in dinners, and parties, and one who is overall more well-behaved.
I wasn’t gonna let them replace him. He was my best friend, my number one confidant. Besides… who needs a fancy and well-behaved hybrid? Niki was way more fun!
niki’s perspective
It was the same old party they threw with the same kids as their rich human parents and new collectibles. They liked to collect new hybrids where they’d show them off and then throw them away… but not y/n.
Without her, I probably would still be on the street mistaken for an overgrown cat hybrid. It doesn’t mean I liked being gawked at and set a price on what they’d trade her for me. Of course, she’d never let them... I’ve seen how annoyed and angry she gets and it made me happy she cared so much.
I cared for her too… She was clumsy and an idiot so she needed someone to take care of her. So I'm here… at a stupid party filled with spoiled rich kids.
Not to say she isn't spoiled… she is. However, I never questioned that she loved me. She always makes that clear with everything she does for me.
“Oh! You’re y/n right?” I heard and I saw a girl behind us with what smelled like a bird hybrid. “Mmhm… have we met before?” she asked why I didn’t think so… I would’ve recognized her and her hybrid. “My name–” I didn’t care what she had to say… I just didn’t like how her hybrid kept on staring at me with those eyes of his. What was his problem?
I was cut off from my thoughts when suddenly the topic of discussion became me…
“He’s really pretty and exotic too! I just haven’t heard good things about him, you know?” she said and I had to refrain from growling at her. Who was she to talk right in front of my face about me? And to y/n?
“Jay here is well-behaved! He’s from America you know–” Is that supposed to make him impressive? Congrats bird you’re a pet! “–it's just a shame you know. I wanted a bunny or maybe a cat hybrid” she pouted and I could see his disappointed expression.
“Oh, Niki is really sweet but he’s solitary–” “You should invest in a social hybrid you know?” she cut her off to say. Rude… why would she need another hybrid when she has me?
“I like the way he is, he’s been with me since we were kids so there's no way I could ever replace him like that,” she said and I felt proud.
“I heard about how much you care for him. I guess rumors were true” she said and I knew she was amongst those who talked about why she couldn’t get a nicer and social hybrid who smiles and dotes on her. I do dote on her… and I’m only nice to her. Everyone else was pushing it.
“What is he if I can ask?” she said and y/n only sighed while looking up at me. “He’s a puma hybrid from Japan,” she answered. “Woah! I heard puma hybrids were rare! I thought he was just a cat… makes sense then for how tall he is.” she said as she got closer to me.
“Oh please don’t do that. You’ll make him uncomfortable.” y/n said as I went behind her.
“You should take him to the training you know. It's for the hybrids who need manners… they are opening classes in your university for hybrids'' she said… she stalked y/n to know what university she was in? She needs a life.
“Oh… I know of them. I think he is just fine the way he is” y/n said and she bowed. “If you’ll excuse us,” she said and we walked away from the pair. “She was a bitch” y/n muttered and I laughed. “Calm down, you have an act to uphold,” I said and she sighed. “y/n?” I said and she looked at me with her eyes filled with determination to answer to give me anything I asked for. “Why didn’t you tell me your uni is having hybrid classes?” I asked and she sighed.
“They're mainly about etiquette. She said how to take care of your owner… how to behave in a social setting, etc” and I nodded.
“I want to go,” I said and her eyes widened. “But you're perfect–” “No, I’m not… I caused you a lot of trouble. I heard your dad get mad again this morning. He didn’t want me here because of last time” I said and she shook her head.
“Yah! Don’t do that!” she scolded and I smiled softly.
“Please? You said you would give me anything I asked for. I want to be a better hybrid for you”
taglist -> @ilovecheese09 @gudkc
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#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen bright sun#enhypen x female reader#enhypen poly au#enhypen heeseung#enhypen heeseung x reader#heeseung x reader#enhypen jake#enhypen jake x reader#jake x reader#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen sunghoon x reader#sunghoon x reader#enhypen jay#enhypen jay x reader#jay x reader#enhypen sunoo#enhypen sunoo x reader#sunoo x reader#enhypen jungwon#enhypen jungwon x reader#jungwon x reader#enhypen niki#enhypen niki x reader#niki x reader
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Down Bad ♡‧ Charles Leclerc
A/N: Hi again! I was inspired by the Florida Logan blurb and decided to write a Charles one after listening to down bad. It’s a little longer than the previous blurb but I hope you enjoy reading it!
“Now I’m down bad”
The combination of the bright sun warming your shoulders, the sights, and the people made you smile as you walked around Monte Carlo. Landing a work opportunity here was feeling like a great idea, you truly couldn’t be happier. A camera was around your neck and you took pictures of everything that caught your attention. Instead of continuing to unpack you had decided to take a break and do some sightseeing before getting some food. Totally in awe of the sights you were not fully aware of your surroundings. As you headed towards the casino you bumped into someone. The person steadied you and you let out a light laugh. “Je suis désolé” the voice replied as the person apologized in French, “Moi aussi” you replied. “I should’ve been aware, my apologies” you added switching to English. The person you bumped into laughed and your eyes met his green eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked while still keeping a hand behind your back in case he needed to steady you. “Mhm,” you hummed.
“I’m Charles, Enchanté,” he said, extending his hand, stating your name you replied like he had. “What brings you to Monaco?” He asked. “Work, I just moved here actually!” You exclaimed with a little laugh. He smiled, “What do you work in?” Charles asked. “Brand marketing,” you replied. “How about you?” you inquired, “I drive race cars,” he said with a smile. Of course, you knew who he was, you were a fan but you had to downplay this. Turning your head to the side a little you looked at him and smiled, “I think I’ve seen you” you replied and he smiled. “Are you doing something right now?” He asked, scratching the back of his neck, “Besides walking around and trying to find a spot to eat, no not much” you said with a laugh. Charles laughed and beckoned you to follow him. Obliging you walked next to him as he pointed out some sights and cracked a few jokes.
He led you to his car, which as you knew would be a Ferrari, and opened the door for you, thanking him you got in. Before starting the engine he informed you of a really good spot he frequently ate at and took you there. The drive wasn’t long but very agreeable since you conversed the entire time.
Upon entering the cafe you smiled, it seemed like it was very tranquil and did not have a flock of tourists, few tables inside were occupied, Charles was seemingly familiar with the place so he led you to one of the tables out by the balcony and pulled the chair out for you. While waiting for the waitress you kept talking and looking at your surroundings. Charles had stopped talking and admired you for a minute, your head was a little turned to the side, and your line of sight was trained on the faraway horizon. A stray curl fell off your low bun and he fought the urge to reach out and twist the coil around his finger.
Suddenly self-conscious he stopped staring at you, and just then you turned to look at him with a smile so bright that it could start a thousand fires. God, you were gorgeous and you looked at him as if you sensed that he had been taking you in. Just then, the waitress came and you ordered.
Carefully you would sneak in glances at Charles, his hair was a little messy at the top but cut short at the sides, and his skin was tanned making the silver chain around his neck stand out in perfect contrast. He was attractive there was no denying that, but when he laughed and his eyes crinkled you saw a boyish charm to him and butterflies would flutter around your stomach.
Time had inevitably passed and neither of you had noticed, eventually you paid the check, something he insisted he take care of and he drove you home. “You can drop me off here at the entrance, it’s fine,” you said. Shaking his head he replied, “Non, I’d like to make sure you make it to your floor okay. I’m coming with you” he said. “In case the elevator gets stuck?” you asked with a laugh. He laughed, “Exactly, then you’ll be stuck with me and not alone,” he replied. Giggling you both exited the car and he accompanied you to your floor. Stopping at your door you unlocked your door and invited him in but he politely declined. “I had fun today, thank you for showing me around!” you happily said. “It was my pleasure.” “Would you like to intentionally go out someday, without bumping into each other on the street?” he asked. Smiling you nodded, “That would be great,” you replied grinning. Charles’s face lit up with a grin, and he exchanged numbers with you. Bidding goodbye to you you smiled and waved before closing the door with a smile on your face.
A few days had passed since your first encounter with Charles, and you were finally settled into your apartment. On your way home from work, you received a text and noticed that it was Charles asking if you were free that evening. Smiling you replied and soon enough he was asking you out, intentionally just as he’d promised to. Making the short walk home you stepped into the hallway as soon as the elevator doors opened and wasted no time in getting inside your apartment to get ready, While getting ready you realized you were down bad for him.
(all photo credits go to the respective owners)
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Die For You (Chapter 2)
summary: following your encounter in that dark alley, you're faced with your old love. will you have the strength to stand up to him?
rating: T
word count: 2.1k
pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader)
cw: kidnapping, reader is shackled for a while, starvation (both imposed by captor and self-imposed), manipulation.
a/n: a shorter chapter and no funny business this time around cause we gotta focus on the development of their relationship while reader is in captivity. also! look out for the additional a/n at the end of the chapter! im undecided on where i want to take this so i want all of your opinions !!
previous chapter
read on ao3
or keep reading down below~
I fell in love with someone
I don’t know
Anymore, anymore
Sometimes I wonder if you
Think of me
Anymore, anymore
-
You can't make much of what happened after he appeared. You were too shocked by the presence of your past lover to acknowledge whoever cast sleep on you, knocking you unconscious at your most vulnerable moment. Cowards. When you awaken, you’re shackled, hanging to a wall in a dark cell. You pull against the restraints to no avail; you were securely locked in.
Your struggling must’ve made too much noise, as not long afterwards, the door opens wide, revealing Astarion, alone. He was standing proud in lavish clothing, different from the ones you had seen him in at the party a few days ago, but just as proper. As much as these last few months had been awful to you, it seemed like they had been the best in his last 200 years of existence. He approaches you slowly, head held high and arms crossed in his back.
“How’s your head, my dear?”
Hearing his voice again for the first time in months triggers a wave of emotions within you. Hurt, hatred, longing… lust. You shake them away as best as you can before questioning him.
“Why did you bring me here, Astarion?”
“Why, I simply wanted to talk,” he says, his tone annoyingly playful.
“Was the kidnapping and shackles really necessary?” You slightly pull against them again to make your point; you can barely move in this condition.
“Can you blame me? Seeing how you ignored me so easily all night, and the fury in which you provoked my servants, I doubted you were going to follow me here willingly.”
You close your eyes and sigh, dropping your head, discouraged.
“Plus,” he adds, “I couldn’t take the chance to have you run out on me. I let you go once, it’s not a mistake I’ll be doing again.”
You chuckle, somehow finding a way to laugh at the situation as you raise your head back to meet his gaze. “I notice that your inability to move on wasn’t part of the many things that changed after your ascension.”
He smiles back, amused by your wits. “I only kept the best parts, as you can see. Besides, I know you've been missing me just as much.”
“You're so full of yourself.”
“Am I? Were you not alone and miserable for all these months? Or did my spawns lie to me?”
“Wait… You’ve been spying on me?!” You exclaim in disbelief.
“Well, someone had to make sure you weren't off to get yourself killed in some stupid way.”
You scoff, offended at this image he had of you. “I can handle my own, thank you.”
“And yet, my servants had no problems cornering you in a dark alley.”
You open your mouth as you're about to answer back when you find yourself at a loss for words. He got you there, the prick. He notices your silence and sighs before commenting on your state.
“For someone who’s been wanting me ever since we parted, you keep playing hard to get, my dear.”
“Oh please, how am I ‘hard to get’? Hells, I was actively trying to forget about you, I never wanted to see you again. But no, you– you had to go after me.” The irony of the situation makes you laugh some more. “You have everything you’ve ever dreamed of and yet, you still couldn’t find someone new to replace me.”
He laughs lightly. “I’ve only ever wanted you, my treasure. And now,” he walks towards you with a languid pace, his hand reaching for your chin, lifting it to meet his gaze, “You're finally where you belong, where you should have always been in the first place.”
You snap your head out of his grasp. “Shackled at your feet?” You spit out.
He forcefully brings back your gaze on him, his nails grazing your cheeks, making you hiss. “By my side.” He looks at your bared teeth, smiling. “You will make a deadly consort, that I'm sure of.”
Your eyes widen as you understand the implication, and your voice rises as the fear starts to set in. “I’ll NEVER agree to this.”
He tilts your head aside and leans in the crook of your exposed neck, his breath hot against your skin. “You don't have to. I can just take what's rightfully mine.” he whispers and that last word sends a chill down your spine.
You struggle in his grasp, trying to pull your neck away as you shout. “Don’t you DARE!”
He chuckles to himself. “Oh, don't you worry, I intend on making sure you deserve it before we get there.” He releases your face coldly but doesn’t move away from you. “But where are my manners? I almost forgot; I meant to invite you to eat.”
“I would rather starve,” you declare, leaning into that last word.
He sighs, seemingly growing tired of your attitude. “Fine, do as you wish,” he says, walking away from you.
He leaves and you’re left on your own for Gods know how long. You spend those first hours trying to free yourself still and eventually give up when you start to feel the bruises on your wrists. You drift in and out of consciousness, fatigue affecting you more with every hour that passes. Without any source of light, it’s nearly impossible for you to tell how much time had gone by since the night you were captured. But, judging by the growling of your stomach, at least a full day had gone by, maybe even two. Your arms and legs were starting to give out on you as well, when the door before you opened to a spawn you didn't recognize.
“Lord Ancunín invites you to dinner,” he says, composed.
“You can tell him to fuck off.” Your words don’t have the intended effect as they’re told with a shaky voice. In truth, you would kill for just a piece of bread right about now, but you would let yourself die before you complied to Astarion.
“I'm afraid that's not an option.”
Two more spawns appear behind him, and you instantly understand where this is going; this wasn't a request, it was an order. You're unshackled, although the spawns’ grips were so strong, you didn’t notice a difference, and were guided out of your cell. You reach an immense dining room, where Astarion has been waiting for you, a gold cup already to his lips. Knowing him, you suppose it’s either blood or fine wine, not that you care either way. You sink into the chair positioned at your end of the table, eyeing the food before you suspiciously.
“Don't worry, I wouldn't dream of poisoning you. I only want what’s best for my dearest consort.”
You scoff, briefly eyeing Astarion who is sitting opposite of you before turning your attention to the contents between the two of you. You would lie to yourself if you said you weren't starving. The food laid out on the table looked delicious. The table was filled with different plates of food, each one looking better than the previous, making your stomach growl in appetite. You could practically drool all over the place, but you didn’t want to give Astarion the satisfaction of seeing you cave in. Not yet, not so soon. You wouldn’t let him get the best of you.
Astarion quickly understands your intentions, with you staring right back at him, and he sighs, rolling his eyes.
“It wouldn’t be wise to let yourself starve, pet. You wouldn’t want to waste all this delicious food, would you? Don’t be shy, at least take a bite.”
You're tempted, but against your better judgement, you ignore the mouth-watering meal, crossing your arms in defiance. He rolls his eyes, matching your attitude.
“As you wish.”
He snaps his fingers and the two spawns that brought you here move towards you, reaching for your arms. You stand up abruptly, pulling away from them in a defensive stance. Astarion speaks up, and you can practically hear the smile in his voice.
“Come on now, my lovely assistants only want to bring you back to your cell for the night.”
“I know the way.”
“I insist.”
Your fatigue and hunger get the best of you; you simply don’t have the energy to fight.
“Fine.”
“That’s my girl.”
You hate the effect he still has on you. He knows just what to say to get to you.
You shoot him a deadly glare and feel your breathing quickening as your heart races with anger and your nails dig through your palms. He smiles pretentiously at you, and you’re overcome with thoughts of jumping onto him and punching his stupid face, making him regret everything he’s done to you these last few days. If it wasn’t for the awful twist in your gut, you might have. You shut your eyes closed as you look away, frowning, before you start walking away and the two vampire spawns accompany you to your cell, where you let yourself slouch over the rock wall. At least, they didn't restrain you again.
Once again alone with your thoughts, your mind drifts to your companions. Specifically Shadowheart; would she still be waiting for you? Would she be looking for you? You wish you had a way to contact her, let her know you need help. Your thoughts are interrupted by a stabbing feeling in your gut, again. Maybe you should’ve taken a bite, just a small one, just to keep you going… No, this was a game to him, you needed to hold on. The pain is good, you try to convince yourself, it’s a reminder that I’m alive, mortal, and I’ll fight to keep it that way as long as I can.
Another wretched tenday passes and you avoid the food still. Every day follows the same routine: you’re woken up, Astarion’s spawns bring you to the large dining room where you’ll refuse to eat anything, until he gets bored of your attitude and you’ll be brought back to your cell, three times a day. You sense how Astarion is getting annoyed at you, and it strengthens your resolve. However, you hate to admit it, but you’re becoming weaker and weaker. You spend most of the passing days asleep, unable to think straight through your hunger, and too exhausted to do anything else.
Finally, you cave in.
As you're brought to the dining room for dinner, your gaze falls upon your favourite meal, presented before you. For the first time in days, your façade breaks down, you have eyes for nothing else other than the meal in front of you. Had this been given to you on the first day, you would’ve gladly turned it down, but you didn’t have that kind of resolve anymore. Astarion snaps you out of your reverie by mentioning the name of the plate, and you raise your eyes to meet his.
“You had asked me what my favourite meal was and I couldn’t remember.” His tone is gentle. “It had been so long that everything tasted like garbage. Even wine tasted like pure vinegar. It frustrated me. That’s when you told me about yours: Baldurian Mash. You described it in such great detail, I could almost taste it myself.” He pauses, and you look up to meet his gaze. “I wanted to give you what I couldn't have. A chance to remember.”
You can’t stop the tears from swelling up. You’re famished, completely drained, and mentally spent; this was the last straw. You grab the gold-plated utensil with a shaky hand and dig into the plate, shoving that first bite in your mouth. It’s even better than you remember it. You chew on that first bite longer than necessary, relishing the taste of the meal. It’s comforting, filling, it tastes like home; it’s everything you’ve wanted and more. You are so hungry that you end up ravishing the rest of it, barely taking the time to savour it properly past that first mouthful. Your belly growls, this time content with the food you finally gave it. After so many days resting on an empty stomach, you can't afford to eat anything else. You smile unconsciously as you lay back in your chair, satisfied with your meal, before getting up to leave, following the usual routine.
You stop in your tracks near the door and slightly turn around towards the ascendant, pausing before the words escape your lips.
“Thank you.”
As you walk away, you miss the devilish grin forming on his lips.
Everything was going perfectly according to his plan.
-
Familiar faces that look like you
They tend to
Mess with my head just like it's deja vu
It's always
Right when I think I’m getting over you
That it feels
Like I have salt inside an open wound
A/N²: POLL TIME
i already have another chapter written which wont be affected by this poll. BUT for the chapters that will follow, i need a direction since its going to change how i approach the writing (dialogues and important actions are going to be different based on the outcome)
i do have an idea for each option, i just need to know whats the vibe cause i cant decide myself (bisexual moment)
#my posts#my writing#my polls#fic: die for you#ascended astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion#astarion romance#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion x you#tav x astarion#bg3 astarion#astarion bg3#astarion fanfic#bg3#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 x reader#bg3 x tav#bg3 x you#astarion x female reader#fanfiction#ao3#Spotify
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Reborn into BG3: Chapter 11
You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.
Chapter 11: It's time to visit Auntie Ethel and thank her for helping you out with your hand. It's only polite. Hangovers, redcaps and monster hunters won't stop Tav from thanking a kind old lady!
Word count: 4.1K
A/N: The word count really got away from me on this one.
The next morning you can’t remember too many specifics about the night. You have the blurry picture of Karlach laughing, sitting by the water with Wyll, and someone laying in a pool of blood. You shiver at the incomplete memory.
Despite your hangover you’re chosen to go out with Tav, Astarion, and Wyll to go visit Auntie Ethel. No amount of protests are able to keep you at camp, because Tav assured you there was no fighting and you were just going to thank a kind old lady for her help! It’s only polite!
Halsin still had things to clear up at the grove so rather than wait around for him you were volun-told to make the trip. And since you couldn’t say what Auntie Ethel truly is, nor warn them about the Gur bounty hunter…you went along.
As you walk down the hill beside the blighted village you’re expecting to see the hag on the road with Mayrina’s brothers. But they’re not there, and neither is the basket of poison apples.
The illusion of a beautiful sunny land isn’t there, either. Instead you find yourselves in the swamp, the smell of stagnant water and algae strong, as well as blood. It would be easy to miss, you’re not sure how you can tell the scents apart yourself, but it’s there.
“Not quite what I pictured when she said to visit her teahouse,” Wyll says. He’s looking at the dilapidated bridge and debris spread around.
“Seems like a good point to turn around,” Astarion suggests. “I’d prefer not to get my boots wet.”
“It’s just water.” Tav starts moving through the deeper water that flows through the swamp before the broken bridge that leads to the island. Begrudgingly, the vampire follows.
Wyll steps into the water and offers you his hand to help you across. You take it gingerly and step forward, only to be met with solid resistance from what should be liquid. You both look down, your foot atop the water.
You put more weight on it, adding your other leg and letting go of Wyll’s hand. “I guess Gale was right about the enchanted boots.”
Walking on water seems excessive for someone from a city like Baldur’s Gate. But after a couple more careful steps and a few jumps you laughed. For a brief moment your worries and hangover are gone as you hop around on top of the little creek, fascinated by the murky gap between you and the earth. You spin in a circle then quickly steady yourself, dizzy, but also because you notice the three men you’re travelling with are grinning at you.
You clear your throat and cross your arms, heading to dry land. “Sorry, that’s just…cool.”
There’s a certain sparkle in Tav’s eyes that tells you he desperately wants to do the same. You tell him, “I’ve seen your feet, they won’t fit.”
His sparkle fades at the same time his tail dips towards the ground.
“Braaaaagh.”
The sound makes you flinch. On the little island are the redcaps, apparently still thinking they’re disguised as sheep. Two are atop the rocky hill in the middle, while a third wanders near the water. It makes another strange sound that’s supposed to be a “baaaaah”.
Tav approaches it, squats down, and with complete seriousness lets out a loud, “Baaaaah!”
Wyll hides a snicker behind one hand and that’s when you finally notice it. He has horns and a red eye.
“You have horns!” you shout thoughtlessly.
“Well, you were properly thrashed last night, weren’t you?” Astarion questions. “And even this morning? Or are you just blind?”
“I, uh, sorry Wyll…” You’re about to ask when Mizora showed up but think better of it. “What…”
“I wondered why you didn’t ask last night,” Wyll says. There’s a hint of a laugh in his voice, but the sadness over his change is still there. “I was tasked with killing Karlach, and since I haven’t, I’ve paid the price. My patron Mizora…”
You’re given a quick rundown of Mizora visiting him when he was with Lae’zel and Shadowheart.
At the end of his story you ask, “So last night you had…”
You gesture at his face, and maybe the innocence of the question is what makes him smile. “I’m afraid so.”
“I am so sorry,” you repeat. At least you had an excuse for not noticing last night, but you were so used to seeing him in game you didn’t give it a second thought this morning.
“It’s not your fault. It was my decision.”
“No, I mean—well I’m sorry for that, too—but I’m sorry I didn’t notice. I’m so selfish, I was moping over nothing while you were—are—in pain.” You bite down on your thumb nail and try to remember talking to him by the water but it’s so blurry now. Not only were you moping over imaginary problems, he went out of his way to make you feel better when he had very real, life altering things to deal with.
“I appreciate that,” Wyll tells you.
“But—“
Wyll holds up a hand. “I have seen enough to know that you truly didn’t notice. Not because you were too selfish but because you…”
“Because I…?” you ask.
Wyll shifts uncomfortably.
“Because you’re naive,” Astarion says. “And I say this with love, darling, a little—oblivious.”
“Astarion,” Wyll warns.
“I didn’t say dim this time.”
“Astarion!”
“I am not stupid!” you shout. The redcap startles, hollow eyes on you. “I just don’t…I don’t know things about…things.”
You frown. They’re talking about you when you’re not around? You hadn’t considered that. Of course they did—they talked about each other, too, so why not you?
“To clarify,” Tav adds, “only Astarion called your dim.”
“You did jump in front of a loaded crossbow for a goblin.” Astarion arches a brow at you, probably thinking how you had called yourself stupid at the time.
Your frown turns to a pout. You grumble something about moving on from the subject in hopes of never having to discuss it again. You begin to walk around the redcap with a wide gap, eyeing it warily.
“Now you’re afraid of sheep?” Astarion asks.
“No,” you reply. You look at the vampire quizzically. “But that’s clearly not a sheep.”
The men exchange confused glances. You’re very tired of getting those looks.
“It’s a redcap?” you say to them. “Isn’t it? I’m pretty sure that’s what they’re called.”
Wyll studies the redcap—or sheep as he sees it—as it moves towards you. It lets out an awkward sound between a growl and a bray, but when you don’t reply it’s sneer deepens. There’s a shift in the air, a static shock that stretches around the area in what you can only guess is magic.
“Ohhhh, a redcap,” Tav says. He takes two steps forward, pulls his right leg back then thrusts it forward to kick at the creature. His boot connects with its middle and despite the weight of the redcap it soars through the air.
It goes so far you only hear a distant splash of water. Astarion claps at the distance.
The other redcaps are not quite as entertained by Tav’s actions. They screech from the hilltop, one jumping down while the other moves its hands in the air. Roots tangle around yours and Tav’s legs, locking you in place. The one now on your level charges towards you only to be sent flying by a red bolt from Wyll—eldritch blast.
Astarion lazily throws his dagger at the one on the hill and when the blade lands in its eye socket the vines around you shrivel and die. You step out, shaking each leg of any remaining debris.
“So you saw through the illusion,” Wyll states.
You survey the area, that static ring gone. All you can offer is a shrug—you passed the perception check you guess. But you can’t tell them that.
Tav loots the bodies of a small amount of gold and alchemical ingredients while Astarion retrieves his dagger. Wyll offers theories as to how you were able to see the redcaps, but it all comes back to the enchantment on your clothes. Whatever protection they gave you from harm could be linked to the fact you haven’t had to clean them yet—they still appear pristine despite the blood and dirt you’ve lain in. In fact, you haven’t felt the need to even wash the sweat from your skin. Powerful enchantments indeed.
Tav leads the group forward to Auntie Ethel’s house, all of them a little more suspicious of the old woman now that the swamp is no longer disguised. After the elation of walking on water you’d forgotten about the Gur waiting around the corner. As you approach the bottom of the hill he’s waiting on, you grab Astarion’s sleeve between your index finger and thumb. “Maybe we should wait here.”
“What’s wrong?” Wyll asks. You don’t let go of Astarion’s sleeve even when he tries to pull away. You wet your lips, eyes darting between the vampire and the direction of the Gur. Just a few more steps and he’d be able to see you; he can probably already hear you.
You tug on the sleeve again. “Ast—you should stay here.”
He finally yanks out of your grip and smooths the sleeve where you’d been holding. “And why should I do that?”
Because there’s a hunter around the corner looking for you and he might actually recognize you. Because things are slightly different than in the video game I remember in my past life where you’re a character and not a person.
Because I don’t want you to have to remember how you died and that you can’t escape Cazador, not yet anyway.
You can’t find a reasonable answer.
Astarion huffs out a sigh. “Is this one of your weird feelings Karlach was going on about? Am I about to die if I take another step?”
You flinch back. “What? No, I just…what are you talking about?”
“You seem to know when death is coming,” Astarion explains. “The goblin, then Arka—who confessed her suicidal plan in a drunken stupor last night by the way, to her friend right outside my tent. Ugh, I had to send them away just so I could get some sleep.”
You look at Tav and Wyll, the vague image of Arka laying in a pool of blood coming to mind.
Astarion adds, “You sniff out death like a bloodhound.”
“I just have a bad feeling,” you finally mumble.
“It’s okay,” Tav says. “If anything tries to hurt Astarion I’ll take care of it.”
You smile as he gives you a thumbs up, wishing you could believe him invincible.
“Let’s go see if we get to kill something, now,” Astarion says excitedly.
“Perhaps some precaution is in order,” Wyll suggests. “Tav and I will take a look first and signal if it’s safe. Agreed?”
Astarion rolls his eyes but nods. “Don’t have all the fun without me.”
Tav and Wyll move ahead and around the corner. You hear their voices as they speak with the Gur, but can’t make out the words. Then, Tav’s head appears around a rock and he waves you over. He’s smiling at least, which probably means he wasn’t told anything about what the man is hunting.
You keep yourself a step ahead of Astarion as you follow Tav. Once at the top of the hill the Gur hunter nods to you as greeting.
“He’s a monster hunter,” Wyll says to you. Like that is going to somehow comfort you, even if you didn’t know what you know.
Astarion questions what terrible creature he’s hunting and the scene is triggered. You gulp as the Gur says he’s hunting a vampire spawn named Astarion, and you can’t help but notice the look Wyll sends you. It’s a mix of apologetic, confusion, and concern. Concern for you or Astarion, you aren’t sure.
The hunter mentions he needs Astarion alive.
“Well here he is,” Tav says, waving a hand at the vampire beside you. “This is Astarion.”
“What?” You and Astarion shout the word at the same time, gawking at Tav. You step to the left and in front of Astarion.
“What are you doing?” you question.
“Yes,” Astarion agrees, “what in the hells do you think you’re doing?”
“It can’t be…?” the Gur says.
“But he is looking for you,” Tav says innocently. “And he wants you alive.”
“That doesn’t make it better!” you shout. You grip your staff with both hands, ready to hit someone—and that someone might be Tav.
Your fury at the tiefling in that moment almost overshadows the phantom limb as it reaches out into the swamp behind you. Almost. Something…twitches. It’s not you, nor that strange feeling in your head, but something moves. You can feel it, slow at first but getting faster as feet drag through mud. You feel grimy water on your skin, the need to follow orders—your orders. It’s not you feeling this, someone else is, not unlike the connection the tadpole gave you.
The Gur pulls his crossbow from his back and tries to aim at you, or Astarion behind you, but he isn’t given the chance when something launches over your head and onto him. He screams as the creature bites his jugular, blood squirting—squirting!!—from the wound. You shout and jump back only to collide with Astarion. He sets his hands on your arms to balance you, and then pushes you out of the way as he watches the Gur get killed by—
“Didn’t we kill those little things?” Astarion asks, pointing at the redcap that tears into the hunter's body. It’s moved on from his neck, now clawing at his stomach. You watch on, eyes wide and unblinking, breath held in your chest. Another redcap, this one missing an eye, hobbles past you and joins his companion.
“We did,” Wyll confirms.
You’re holding your staff in front of you, still ready to whack someone until the Gur stops struggling. You let out the breath you were holding. When you finally blink you see that the eyes on your staff are glowing a lovely violet.
The redcaps grunt, facing you now that their task is complete. Your eyes dart between the staff and them, and back again. “Please tell me I didn’t do that.”
“I think you may have,” Wyll says. “And it seems you may be a necromancer of some sort; you didn’t even need to utter a word to bring the redcaps here and do your bidding.”
“That,” you say, pointing to the corpse, “is not my bidding.”
But you can’t deny that you feel a string of connection to the redcaps now—puppet strings. Your strings, using them like marionettes. And you can’t deny the way the redcaps watch you like they’re waiting for your next command. You want to drop the staff, but your body won’t listen. Because it has to be the staff, right? It’s cursed or enchanted to let you raise the dead! Finally you let go of the wood and let it fall to the ground with a clatter.
But the redcaps stare on.
“It’s okay.” Wyll tries to comfort you but you’re having none of it.
“No, it’s not okay!” you yell. You point at the body again. “I just killed that guy!”
“And for Astarion, no less,” Tav chimes in. His voice brings you back, somewhat grounding you from your hysteria.
“And you!” You point to the tiefling. He flinches back at your fury, having the gall to look innocent with his wide eyes and tail tucked. “Why did you tell him about Astarion?”
Tav doesn’t get to answer when one of the redcaps launches itself at him. He’s quicker to react than the Gur and grabs it before it can claw or bite out his throat, and uses the momentum to swing around and throw it about as far as he kicked the first one.
You picture a string between you and the redcaps, and then a pair of scissors snipping them away. There’s a moment of hesitation in the remaining redcap, but it soon falls over. Dead, again.
You sniffle, holding back the burning tears that begin to line your lower lashes. “He was going to hurt Astarion.”
Maybe Tav had a plan and that was why he told the truth. Or maybe he just can’t help but be honest, thinking he could bargain with the Gur into leaving Astarion alone. But you can’t wrap your head around it. And rather than focusing on the glowing eyes of the staff, that have now faded, the fact you just killed a man with two undead redcaps, you focus on your anger at Tav. It’s so much easier to be angry than sad.
You step towards him, pull back your foot, and kick him in the shins with all your might. He has leather boots on, and he’s a barbarian, so he probably doesn’t feel it much, but you kick him again.
He hops away on one foot, grabbing at his minor injury. “I’m sorry!”
“He was gonna take Astarion!” you shout. You step towards him only to feel two hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place.
“Perhaps this argument can wait,” Wyll says. He doesn’t let you go when he looks at Astarion. “Why did he want to capture you, not kill you? He said it was a sacred duty from his people—that’s no small task to be given.”
You shrug Wyll off and cross your arms, facing away from Tav. Tears slip down your cheeks as you regain control of your breathing. You rub at your face with one sleeve.
“How should I know?” Astarion asks. He’s putting on a front, you think. “He was most likely sent by my old master, Cazador, to bring me back to Baldur’s Gate.”
They discuss the possibilities—why a Gur was sent, what Cazador would want with him rather than just kill him. You keep your arms crossed, determined to hang onto the anger as fear creeps along the edge of your senses.
“Weren’t we here to thank a little old lady or something?” Astarion questions, hurriedly changing the subject. “Perhaps we should move on, before any more hunters show up?”
You are more than happy to get away from the corpse, but the closer you get to Ethel’s the more your anger ebbs away and is replaced by fear. There are so many things that contribute to that fear, so you hold onto the fury as tightly as possible and refuse to even look Tav in the eye, despite his many attempts at getting your attention. He flits around you, begging you to say anything to him, sic another redcap on him even, but you’ve quickly come to realize that the silent treatment is the best punishment.
That anger takes you all the way to Ethel’s door, where Wyll knocks before entering.
Though the tea house is a little decrepit and sitting in the middle of a swamp, it doesn’t smell like it. There’s a scent of a spicy tea in the air, and when you enter you find Ethel sitting where Mayrina is in game, sipping on a cup.
“Petal!” she says, a smile crossing her features when she sees who’s visiting. “I was worried you might not find the place.”
Ethel stands and approaches the bottom of the stairs, waving the group farther inside. “Come in, come, would you like some tea?”
You do your best to hide the fear that creeps along your spine. In the game Ethel could be a difficult battle, but that was only triggered based on the actions against Mayrina and her brothers. With none of them there you couldn’t predict how things would go.
From the corner of your eye you can see Astarion watching you. He doesn’t stray too far from the group, but he’s never more than a foot away from you. Maybe killing his hunter endeared him to you? You should have gotten a few Astarion Approves from letting him drink your blood alone.
While your eyes had wandered around the tea house Ethel and Tav had begun their conversation. He was also only a foot in front of you, and when you came back into the conversation Ethel was offering her deal.
“That sounds like a poor deal,” Tav says. He thrusts his thumb over his shoulder towards you. “Apparently they can fall out after getting hit in the head hard enough.”
“I don’t think that’s what happened,” Wyll says. He steps a little closer to you. You’re starting to feel claustrophobic with all of them keeping so close to you so you take a step back.
Ethel eyes the men and then you. There’s recognition in her features but it doesn’t feel quite the same as when Raphael had stared you down. “Your god must really love you to get rid of that little wriggler.”
You perk up, maybe too much and give away your eagerness. “My god?”
Wyll casts a warning glance in your direction. Don’t act desperate, it reads. You wet your lips. “How do you know it was my god and it didn’t just die?”
Ethel laughs. “Let’s just say you’ve got a glow about you. You all do. You Chosen.”
The air freezes. Everything slows…slows…stops.
Necromancer.
Chosen.
Control over the dead.
Necromancer-Chosen-dead three-Myrkul-
You whirl on your heel, fall to your knees, and throw up the fruit that had been forced on you earlier. You manage to get it into a nearby basket, but the purge doesn’t stop your stomach from turning. Those words—chosen, dead three, necromancer—keep swirling in your mind. You hiccup and release more into the basket.
You tremble. You’d never thrown up from fear before. Motion sickness, sure, flue, totally. But fear? The shaking doesn’t stop, nor does the urge to keep vomiting. All you can do is sit there on your knees, breathing heavily as the small dot that is your vision spins round and round and round.
Your head starts shaking. “No, I’m not—I’m nothing. Nobody! I don’t matter. I’m—”
You can’t be anyone connected to the main plot. No. You can’t be one of the dead three or a chosen, because you did have a worm in your brain for a while, and you were on the ship and—and—
“Take a breath,” Wyll says. He kneels beside you, hands out and ready to wrap around you but only hovering above your jacket.
“I’m not…”
“Just take a breath,” he repeats. “We don’t know anything for sure.”
He seems so sure, you think. So solid, just like last night at the party. How he can be so certain of anything right now is beyond you, and you know what’s coming.
You do as he instructs, your next few breaths are shaky but calming. You wipe at your mouth with your sleeve, watching as the spittle soaks into the fabric then disappears completely. “I need to—go somewhere. Not be…here.”
You stand quickly, ignoring Tav as he calls to you. You’re on the front porch when you feel something wrap around your ankle and nearly topple you forward. You come to a stop and turn. Tav’s tail is wrapped around your ankle and even when you stop it doesn’t loosen.
“Please, wait.”
You try to take a step forward but his grip is too strong. “I need to go.”
“I’ll go with you.” His tail tightens, desperate to keep you there. It pulls, trying to bring you closer to him even though it’s barely two feet between you.
“I want to be alone.”
“I’ll…I’ll be quiet.” Gods, he’s giving you that look that makes it feel like you just kicked a puppy. As much as you try to stay mad it’s fading into nothing but anxiety and fear, and a desperate desire to let him comfort you. But you need to think, somewhere without distractions and far away from a literal hag. Even if she hasn’t shown her true form.
“Tav,” you begin, pleading just as he is. You look at him. Really look at him. You take in the black scleras that surround the dark blue of his eyes, the beginnings of wrinkles around his mouth from where he’s always smiling, the slight indent of crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes. His white-gray hair shifts with the breeze, but his horns stop anything from getting into his eyes. You wish it would cover his eyes–they’re far too teary for the light-hearted man.
Wyll sets a hand on Tav’s shoulder. “Let go, Tav. It’ll be fine.”
The tieflings lips press together, his tail unmoving.
“Tav.” Wyll isn’t making a suggestion. With one last desperate look at you Tav finally releases his hold on your ankle.
You take the steps down into the dirt. “I’m just going back to camp. I’ll…see you there.”
Tav opens his mouth then thinks better of it. Whatever he was going to ask goes unspoken. Most likely another plea to get you to stay, or to allow him to follow.
You turn and start walking through the swamp.
Taglist:
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#reborn into bg3#reborn into baldur's gate 3 with no memory and plenty of money#astarion x reader#tav x reader#auntie ethel#fanfic#bg3 fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#you should really look into that other bag of yours reader
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Pt 2 to Secretary with Isaac? 🤭
Secretary II (NSFW)
Isaac Rhoades x Reader
Part I
“I’m going to make you forget about those fucking documents, I swear,” Isaac said, rising from his office chair.
You saw the determined glint in his eyes, the sly smirk on his lips as his grip on your waist tightened, guiding you to rest against the desk.
He leaned closer until you were chest to chest, trapping you. “Think you can handle it when I break that pretty brain of yours?” he murmured in your ear, his hot breath fanning over your neck and making you shiver in anticipation.
Isaac knew just how to rile you up.
His hand shot up to cradle the back of your head as he kissed you fiercely, the other moving from your waist to wrap around your back and keep you steady as he stole your breath. You melted into his touch, moaning into the kiss as you felt his foot nudging yours, a silent request for you to spread your legs.
Your hands found his shoulders, pushing against them gently until you broke the kiss. “How about you read—” you began, immediately cut off by Isaac’s lips on your neck. “Come on, they” — you sighed at his gentle kisses, a groan escaping you as he began lightly sucking on the sensitive skin — “they’re important, Isaac.”
It was hard to concentrate as he continued nibbling on your neck, his hips slowly starting to grind against you until you could feel his painfully hard cock brushing against you. “I need you,” he whispered, loosening his hold to look into your eyes. “I want you. Right here, please,” he said, brushing his thumb over your lower lip. “Let me take you.”
“Fuck” you cursed, every thought of work fleeing your mind at the desire coursing through you. It was impossible to resist him. His pull on you with a few precise touches and carefully picked words made you melt under him in a heartbeat. You rested a hand on his lower back and pushed his hips forward until he was grinding against you again. “How do you want me?”
Isaac groaned, biting his lip to keep a hold of his composure. He considered your question before stepping back, ignoring your pretty whine at the loss of contact. “Bend over,” he said, desire choking him as his cock twitched.
You turned around, wiggling your hips until you felt Isaac’s hand on your lower back, pushing you down gently onto the desk. He chuckled, running his hands over your back before pushing your thighs apart and pulling down your clothes.
“Like the view?” you asked teasingly, trying to hide the sudden feeling of nervousness overtaking you. Isaac had seen all of you many times before, but the new position, being on display for him like this, made your heartbeat quicken.
His fingers slowly traced your spine, traveling from your neck to your lower back. You shuddered, gasping at the feeling of Isaac’s cock brushing against you as he leaned forward, placing his hands over yours gripping the edge of the desk. “You're the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said sincerely, lowering his head until he kissed your shoulder blade. “Is this alright?”
You nodded eagerly, moaning as he pushed a finger inside to stretch you out. “Mhm— feels nice,” you mumbled, gasping when he added another.
Isaac took his time, continuing his trail of kisses over your back as he curled his fingers. Moans fell from your lips as he worked you open, eagerly rocking your hips under his touch.
He loved seeing you like this, hearing you lose yourself to pleasure. With every shaky gasp you let out, your grip on the desk tightening as you arched your back, he could feel his cock throbbing.
“Are you ready?” he asked, removing his fingers as he brushed against your entrance. He was painfully hard, all your moans and whimpers fueling his desire until the burning need to feel you around him was overwhelming.
You groaned, pushing your hips back to grind on his cock. “Please, Isaac,” you whined. He pushed inside, giving you a moment to adjust to his size before dragging his cock in and out of you. The moans and pleas tumbling from your lips were indecipherable as the position allowed him to reach deeper, draining every thought from your mind while you drowned in tides of pleasure.
Isaac was panting heavily, thrusting into you with every snap of his hips and brushing against a spot that had your thighs shaking. “I love taking you like this,” he groaned, feeling you clench around him. “You’re so beautiful. You’re so— fuck— so good for me.” He squeezed your hand, intertwining your fingers as he picked up the pace.
A stack of paper fell to the ground as the desk scraped along the floor of the study, but you were too lost in the feeling of bliss to care about the extra work. The only thing on your mind was Isaac and the indescribable warmth he made you feel. A chant of his name left your lips in choked gasps, your fingers gripping his tighter as you felt your high approaching.
Isaac grunted, using his free hand to steady your hips as he continued thrusting eagerly. “Come, beautiful,” he gasped, resting his lips on your shoulder. “I’m close, too.” You came with a cry of his name, shaking as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you against his chest and ceasing his thrusts as he tumbled over the edge.
You were both gasping for breath, taking a moment to calm down. Isaac held you tightly, and you appreciated his secure hold as your legs felt shaky. “Can we lay down for a bit?” you asked, leaning your head back until it rested against his shoulder and you looked up at him through tired eyes. “Cuddle, maybe?”
He smiled fondly, the love and adoration in his eyes bringing a smile to your face as well. “Of course, Pickle,” he said, kissing your forehead and walking you over to the couch. “Anything you need.”
“Thanks, Isaac,” you said contently, moving to rest comfortably on the couch. You nuzzled into his side and wrapped your arms around him until you knew he would not be able to escape. Then — having become sneaky like a true private investigator — you pulled out the files, presenting them to Isaac as if you had just solved a decade-old cold case and breaking into a smile as he laughed earnestly. “Take a look at the files now, will you?”
He did so without further complaint.
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Honestly a little gift for the sweetest person I’ve ever met @pastelle-rabbit
photographer Keigo Takami x Artist!reader. Fluff tbh, first meeting. 1.1k
It was easy for Keigo to find the beauty in everything, to capture it in stills nearly wherever he went. Oftentimes pausing mid stride while glancing about regardless of bodies around him on a bustling street just to capture the exact angle of whatever had caught his eye in the moment.
Sometimes it’s life in the strangest of places, like a bird's nest quaintly made in the sign of a fast food restaurant. Other times it was just the way the light of something had struck him or an object in his view. Camera roll, SD card, a full terabyte drive at his dorm on campus brimming with new locations or familiar areas shot differently.
Even strings of twine now extend from one side of his dorm wall to the other and cork boards begin to fill with Polaroid photos to capture feelings of nostalgia for the city he’s grown up in.
He favors that new camera now, uses it for his more personal photos rather than for class submissions.
But everything was beautiful to Keigo, taking life slowly and demonstrating it with life’s little joys.
Capturing his hardly nutritious breakfast of a canned black coffee and a cinnamon streusel muffin on a rainy day. Shaking the freshly printed photo from his Fujifilm Instax Mini out of habit alone while he sips at his drink.
Later, for lunch, a warm panini in his hand while it lounges next to the fountain in the middle of the quarry because he’d hoped the afternoon sun would glisten off the rippling water enchantingly.
Instead he gets a new sort of beauty, one unrivaled by anything he’d ever seen before.
A beauty like you, that sits in the shade of the biggest tree on the common ground, decorated in scattering sun beams that slip through the leaves. It paints you better than any of the art majors that practice with live models could ever dream of. It leaves him overtly awestruck and you’re merely enthralled with your sketchpad, bringing your knees higher to give yourself a bit more leverage to draw with ease.
Keigo assumes so, anyway, after watching your elbow move as your hand swipes across the page before you curl a bit closer to yourself. Involuntarily swallowing thickly, amber hues darting down to the purse of your lips as you blow away the eraser shavings followed by expertly flipping your pencil around to try again.
He has to manually shake his head to pull him from his stupor, gaze flitting about to see if anyone else had noticed what he had but of course they hadn’t.
Nobody ever notices as much as Keigo or the things he found captivating, but this time he’s a little grateful for it. Pulling up his camera and holding it up to his right eye while he closes the other. Pausing long enough for the lens to focus before it shutters as he clicks the button to capture your moment permanently.
The camera whirs then spits out the picture a moment later, colors slowly bleeding to the appropriate ones as the photo develops itself.
It pales in comparison, something Keigo rarely thinks whenever he’s chosen to capture a moment but he doubted anything could truly do your beauty justice.
He debates for a moment after, looking for the photo to you and back again before deciding he should give it to you instead of keeping it. Folding the paper wrapping back over his panini and tucking it into his cross shoulder bag before making his way to you. Crossing the distance easily and comping to a stop just a few feet in front of you so as not to be opposing.
“Hey,” he greets breezily, combing his fingers through sandy blond locks to pin them backwards, away from his face as he leans a bit forward. Bringing his hand from behind his back with the polaroid to hold out in front of him now, offering it to you as the other rubs sheepishly at the nape of his neck, “hope you don’t mind but, the light caught you perfectly so I took a picture.”
Even on a campus full of art majors of all different sorts, that statement still sounded creepy from a complete stranger. He coughs into his closed fist, crouching down to your level so maybe it feels a little less awkward but still he holds the photo out to you.
You look from the photo to his eyes and back again, setting your pencil down and carefully pinching the white segment of the picture to take it.
“It’s the only one,” Keigo adds for your comfort, lifting his instant printer camera with the strap slung around his shoulder.
“Thank you,” you finally speak and Keigo’s shoulders slacken. Thick brows furrowing appreciatively as the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of his lips. Of course you sounded as lovely as you looked. “Are you sure I can keep it? This isn’t for an assignment?”
He chuckles at that, leans back on his haunches as he scratches gingerly at his stubbled chin, “no it’s not for an assignment. Wouldn’t be fair to turn in a masterpiece like that, I’ve gotta give everyone else a fighting chance.”
The sound of your giggle bids his heart to race, lips parting a bit and his eyes widen. He really doesn’t think he’s heard anything quite so whimsical in his life and Keigo loved to sit in town squares to listen to street performers.
A silence falls for a bit, nothing but the partially inaudible conversations of passersby or others that linger in the square and the sounds of you turning pages in your sketchbook before you close it. It looks like you’re getting ready to leave, packing away your supplies and gently tucking the picture he’d gifted into a fold safely before you stand.
Keigo follows with ease, hand reaching to grab your bag for you like a gentleman and you thank him again.
“Do you wanna get a cup of coffee with me? When you’re free.” He doesn’t think he’s ever sounded awkward in his life, an extrovert since his early years but maybe now he actually worries about fumbling something truly special.
But you give him a dazzling smile, one larger than the first that accompanied your gratitude. Your fingers wrap around the strap of your bag just above his and Keigo feels the warmth of it seep into his own skin.
You lift the weight from his hand, rummaging through it quickly before procuring a pen. Uncapping it as you reach out for him, delicate digits wrapping around his to pull Keigo's hand forward.
“I’d love to,” a hum of a response as your scrawl digits against the back of Keigo’s hand. Stepping away when you’re finished and giving him a wave, telling him you’ve got to get to your next class. Holding your thumb and pinky up to your face with a mouthed ‘call me’ before turning completely.
Maybe soon the cork boards, hanging twine, camera rolls and external hard drives will be filled with beautiful moments of you together before long.
If all goes well, and god did Keigo hope it did as he turns in the opposite direction of you; fishing his phone from his pocket to punch in the number you’d temporarily inked into his skin.
#vixen drabbles#keigo takami x reader#keigo x reader#keigo x you#hawks x reader#hawks x you#hawks x y/n
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I’ve recently noticed (as in I only noticed recently, not it only happened recently) a distinct lack of it in your content so I thought I’d ask: opinion on EziDesAltCon? (I never know which order it’s supposed to be) cause to me it just seems like the obvious conclusion.
I honestly don’t know if there’s an ‘official’ shipping name for it. I usually go for AltDesEziCon, in the order of their games XD
I like it. Honestly, I’m all in for them being in a polycule or if this is primarily a Desmond harem XD
I cannot remember if I have ever answered something like this but there was this Desmond harem in a Royal ‘Family’ AU idea last year so I’ll focus on a poly kind of situation for this one.
Have some unorganized notes!
They all fall in love with Desmond first and it starts of as them being rivals for Desmond’s affection.
Altaïr and Ezio are highly competitive and tries to one man each other. Ratonhnhaké:ton is more of a chill dude but turns out to just be as competitive. He’s just more sly about it. There have been many Altaïr versus Ezio competitions that ended with Ratonhnhaké:ton’s stealth wins and it was all planned.
Desmond loves them all and realize that Altaïr and Ezio’s competitiveness is kinda like their foreplay.
He gets the idea of making them fall in love with one another so they can all be together (and Desmond doesn’t have to make a choice)
Shaun thought he was mad, Rebecca was more on the side of “It’s crazy enough to work”, Clay is there to watch the chaos unfold.
The Auditore family has an ongoing joke of disowning Ezio and adopting the others if he breaks up with any or all of them (not that it would happen)
Everyone but Ratonhnhaké:ton call Haytham ‘father-in-law’ to fuck with him. One time, Ezio calls him ‘father-in-law’ during a party with a lot of rich people and that’s how people learn that Haytham’s ‘unknown’ son is dating 3 dudes all at the same time.
They all call William Miles ‘Bill’ though.
This is full on modern day now apparently so Desmond’s parents are divorced and his mom married Minerva. Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton call Minerva stepmother-in-law while Desmond and Altaïr call her ‘Minerva’. Minerva just rolls with it and calls Desmond’s beaus “my stepson’s harem.” (this is honestly inspired by what @thedragonqueen1998 and I talked about in the comments of EOA XD)
They all live in a big apartment and have the biggest bed their friends have ever seen. They have a schedule on who does what chore each week. Altaïr is rarely given kitchen duties because he will season the ingredients and put it all in the oven. It’s not bad but Ezio keeps teasing him about his lack of variety. Ezio is forbidden to do groceries unsupervised because one time he bought more than they needed because things were ‘on sale’.
Altaïr’s grandfather doesn’t mind the number of lovers he has or that they’re men. He’s still annoying Altaïr to give him great grandchildren before he dies though.
Kids are not off the table but they want to spend time with each other first. (They all agree the oldest must be Desmond’s XD)
Malik is worried that Kadar would think that he could be invited into the poly. Kadar is honestly just living vicariously through Desmond at this point. He and Rebecca are the only two people Desmond confesses all the kinky shit they get into.
Leonardo knows the kinky shit they get into courtesy of Ezio.
Ratonhnhaké:ton doesn’t tell anyone the kinky shit they get into but Rebecca sometimes ask him for clarification because she knows he won’t embellish anything. (“Even the skydiving thing?” “Altaïr had to research a lot about that one”)
They sometimes go on doubledates and switch partners in different points of the day.
They have movie night every Sunday and the one who picks the movie is Desmond → Altaïr → Ezio → Ratonhnhaké:ton. Sometimes, movie night is in the comforts of their home, other times it’s in the movie theatres.
They schedule their offs so all of them can be together. Ezio is the one who mostly suggests they go somewhere which the others don’t mind.
Desmond always sleep in the middle of the bed, surrounded by the men he loves.
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Also, one thing i was thinking about the other day was yk in the one overtime vid where the question was who they text the most and azzi says paige and then she also says “one of my best friends colleen”… now this is likely a bit of a stretch cos azzi prolly didn’t really mean much by it but yk lemme cook… it’s just interesting to me the way she worded that instead of saying maybe “another one of my best friends, colleen” since she’d already said paige. Does that make sense?
Also, is it just me or does it feel like they’ve steered kinda clear of referring to each other as “best friends” for a while - and no before the “paige hates azzi” crowd starts making some noise - i more mean it in the sense that maybe that’s not the word they really wanna use to describe themselves anymore knowing they’re way more than that. Like obvs before anything else, they’ll always be best friends so that term will always apply to them. But yeah it’s like after paige’s bday post for carol calling her the “best friend i’ve ever had” or wtv, i just felt like there was such an opportunity to then say “happy birthday to my best friend for life” or smth to azzi, which could have also shut down or maybe quietened down the speculations too and it’s just interesting to me that they’ve never opted for that
Anyway, i’m prolly wayyyy overthinking it lmao but was just an observation and i just feel like it’s always the small details with them yk
Oooh okay wait actually I have kinda noticed this recently but I thought it was part of the whole keeping eyes off of their relationship thing (which it still could be) and trying to keep things the most platonic possible but they're just really bad at it. Paige's bday post was the worst attempt I've ever seen like no wonder people think you hate her, you called her big head and used stock photos (this a joke). Like baby that wasn't giving platonic best friends, it was giving either obligatory teammate post or i'm trying really hard to keep something under wraps.
But yeah there's so much they could have done to quiet the speculations let's be honest and hardcore leaning into best friend and even playing into the allegation would have been the easiest thing. They haven't for a reason, so take that as you will.
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So I’ve been doing a little bit of thinkin’ after the two new episodes of Who about Susan Twist and I had a lightbulb moment I haven’t really seen anyone else talking about just yet.
Spoilers ahead for Wild Blue Yonder, Church on Ruby Road, Space Babies, and the Devil’s Chord. Ok, onto the theory!
We all know Susan Twist is going to be more than just an Easter Egg, but I think everyone is taking the actress’s name too literally. She’s not playing Susan.
She’s The One Who Waits.
She’s there. Always in the background. On the periphery. Watching. Waiting. Because everything leads back to her.
And the first time we see her is in the scene that has the first major world shift in the episode that set up this entire plotline about invoking superstition at the edge of the universe and letting something through.
And who do we encounter pretty much immediately after? The embodyment of Play (Toymaker). And then a little later in we meet the embodyment of Music (Maestro).
Which raises the next part of my theory: What is The One Who Waits the embodyment of?
Death
Death just sits, and waits, and watches, biding their time because everything has its time and Death comes for everything in the end.
And every time we’ve seen her, things start going really wrong. In WBY, she was one of the last people we saw before the Tardis landed on the spaceship, Donna almost died, and the Doctor almost let a NotWe loose on the universe. In Ruby Road, she’s watching Ruby and her friends perform the same night they nearly get crushed by the giant snowman head. She was one of the crew in Space Babies who were forced to leave the station and abandon all those babies to die. And in Devil’s Chord she was in the cafeteria when Paul and John are talking to the Doctor and Ruby about music before getting angry and leaving which, had the Doctor not intervened, would’ve lead to literal nuclear winter.
I feel like too many people are focusing on just the previous lore from the past 60 years which, for any other context makes sense. But this isn’t your granny’s Doctor Who anymore. The tone shift started in WBY means we need to think outside the Blue Box (that’s bigger on the inside) to figure it all out and for once, I think being into SuperWhoLock may have finally paid off! The NotWes are shapeshifters. The Bogeyman was basically a thought form (tulpa). The literal baby eating, musical goblins. The Toymaker and Maestro are both functionally gods. And which god waits patiently in the background?
Death.
It’s not a perfect 1 to 1 with Supernatural but if you find the midpoint between the two everything starts to click into place.
The final Big Bad of the season is The One Who Waits which is Death and not even the Doctor can fully cheat death, they can just keep running. So in the end the Doctor doesn’t actually defeat Death. He just traps them or delays them enough to get away so he can just keep running.
(Also Mrs. Flood is just a normal human who’s past was changed by the Doctor. In the start of the episode, before the Doctor properly meets Ruby (I don’t count the encounter at the club) she has no clue what the Tardis is. But as soon as the thing happens on the roof her past changed to include an encounter with the Doctor when she was younger (I think it’s going to be the episode with the slug things we’ve seen in the trailers because there’s a girl with blonde bangs in a season where coincidence is the driving force behind everything so it has to mean something) which is why her entire personality shifts by the end and she becomes nicer and suddenly knows about the Tardis and knows that Ruby has to go with the Doctor. She’s not Susan or Ruby’s mom. She’s just someone they save along the way.) 
#doctor who spoilers#dw spoilers#susan twist#mrs flood#doctor who#the doctor#ruby sunday#15th doctor#fifteenth doctor#ncuti gatwa#millie gibson#anita dobson#wild blue yonder#the church on ruby road#space babies#the devils chord#honestly this whole thing could be a massive reach#but lately it seems like when i make a prediction it comes true#i even predicted my cousins wedding being canceled two years ago when she first announced her engagement#like i have REALLY been living up to the name kassandra#i am fully prepared to be proven wrong#but there does seem to be a lot of clues in the show that appear to be pointing in that direction#but only time will tell#imagine if i am right though#thatd be kind of awesome
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The trains roll along the tracks behind Michelle’s house in succession, one after another, iron wheels on iron tracks. They usually can’t be heard inside the house, but in the garden the sound of them mingles with the rustling of new leaves in the trees, the faint buzz of midges congregating beneath the canopies and catching the light just so, little glowing specs that almost remind me of fireflies.
It’s a day wasted indoors, that’s what Debra said before hauling a basket load of damp washing out onto the lawn, and that’s where she is now, pegging up bed linens as she keeps one paranoid eye upon the barbeque.
Michelle is cooking, prodding and turning the chicken skewers a bit too soon, but it doesn’t matter, because Debra insisted she would take them inside and put them in the oven afterwards anyway. She's got this fear that we’ll all go home with salmonella poisoning and waste precious exam study time being violently ill.
Jen is nervous. The barbeque was her idea, a way for her to get closer to the girl she wants to ask to the debs without it seeming obvious about her intentions, so she’s hauled Michelle and I along to sit in and make conversation under the strict orders that if things go well then we should make an excuse and then conveniently disappear.
I don’t know Hazel well from school, we were never in any classes together but I know vaguely that she’s the girl with that lanky skeleton man pattern all over her school bag. She is tiny with hair the colour of straw and eyes, big wide and pale blue, an intense, unblinking gaze about them as though she knows how and when you will die.
When she appears in the garden twenty minutes late, smiling serenely with a kitten in her hand, we all pause.
“Hello,” I say. To her or the kitten I’m not completely sure.
“Hi, am I late?”
“No, not at all, um!” Jen gets up from the patio table and rushes to give her a side hug, being careful not to squash the kitten in the process. She scratches its tiny head with her fingernail and it purrs. “Who is this?”
“Goose,” Hazel explains, “I found him under a car in the housing estate last week and I’ve been nursing him back to health. He was so hungry, gosh.”
“He’s cute,” Jen pets him again and he strokes his downy grey fur against her fingers, his eyes closed in bliss, causing an explosion of protective adoration inside me for this little creature. It’s possible I've never seen something so cute.
“Do you want to hold him?” Hazel asks me, and I nod, holding out my hands as she deposits the little warm ball into my hands. Such a small, fragile, trembling ball of energy he is, I've never been so keenly aware of my size, my hands are practically the length of him save for his slinky tail, pointed straight out as I nestle him in the crook of my arm. Goose mews at me, mouth clean open, four sharp teeth and dove grey eyes that look in two different directions. He’s got a weird face, like he doesn’t know he exists or where he is.
“He’s sweet, isn’t he?” says Hazel at my shoulder.
“Yeah he’s a cool little guy. Do you think he was abandoned?”
“I don’t know, perhaps he ran away,” she reaches for him and he clambers up her sleeve, where she grabs him before he can start clawing at her hair, “he’s skittish. He doesn’t like to be alone, yet paradoxically he’s always trying to escape.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, he yearns for life on the streets,” she sighs and says to Jen, “I hope it’s okay that he’s come along, he would just be so unhappy at home.”
“No, of course! Oh my God,” Jen says with a big, dippy smile. “You can bring whatever, like, whoever you want over. We can keep him inside though if that’s better?” She’s touching her hair and smiling a lot, something I make a mental note of so that I can torture her about it later.
“I think if he’s there in the dining room and he can see me through the window he’ll be comfortable,” Hazel agrees, “I think he prefers to feel included.”
I don’t know if Goose has even a remote concept of what he does and does not prefer, but she and Jen head inside to lay some newspapers on the floor and fill a little bowl from the kitchen with water for him anyway, laying them right by the door so that he has the best view of the garden. I’m transfixed by him in there as they set things up, weaving himself between Hazel’s ankles, pushing his fuzzy cheek into the smooth leather of her Dr. Martin boot, and I grin as his claw catches in her lace, which sends him frantically swatting his paw to free it.
“It’s so cute how much you love cats,” Michelle comments as she slaps a raw burger over the coals, “I would have never thought you were a cat person if I hadn’t witnessed it myself.”
“Well look at him! He’s just cool.”
“It’s not just him, it’s all those cats along your street! I just think it’s so funny whenever you step out of the house and they just emerge from somewhere.”
“They know they’ll get pets from me.”
“Yeah, and food.”
“Occasionally.”
She smiles over her shoulder, “Maybe when we move in together we should look for a flat that accepts pets. Then we can get a cat of our own.”
“Mm. It’s a big commitment, a cat, though, isn’t it?”
“No, we would just feed it and clean out the litter box. It’d be very easy.”
“Yeah, I dunno.”
“What don’t you know?”
“I’d have to think about it.”
“Oh, okay.”
Debra finishes hanging the washing and quickly slips back inside through the conservatory door.
I listen to the sounds of the garden instead of talking. A lawnmower drones somewhere across the suburban fences and there is the aroma of something sweet, heady and floral under my nose each time the breeze comes. When it’s still it smells like charred meat and smoke, which is welcome because the afternoon is getting on and I haven’t eaten since before dropping Ivy off at her friend’s house at ten.
“Are you mad at me?” Michelle says.
“No. I’m just hungry.”
“Right.”
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#lucky boy 2010#hello goose <3#tbh nothing melts me more than Jude interacting with cats and babies#more to come in future i swear
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