#It's alright though I just want him to join the story in the next chapter I don't care about the rest | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yelena-bellova · 8 months

Text

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen: Break My Heart

Plot: With Y/n and Jamie not speaking to one another, a trip to Manchester brings about opportunity and heartache.

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: f!reader, language, insinuated smut, mention of abusive parents

A/N: THIS is the chapter I’ve been looking forward to the most. Even though this isn’t the conclusion, I think it’s what the whole thing’s been building to. Well, this is part one of it, at least. I’m gonna shut up now and just let you read. Enjoy!!

—————

Sam Obisanya: Remember that movie we were looking forward to? It’s coming out on Friday. Want to catch it this weekend?

Colin Hughes: Haven’t seen you around lately. Everything alright?

Dani Rojas: We missed you at Isaac’s birthday dinner! Come visit us next time you are free!

Rebecca Welton: Your tea’s cold. Keeley’s confirmed you’re not dead. Several questions.

Ted Lasso: What’s shaking, Abe Lincoln? Don’t be a stranger next time you’re meeting with the boss.

There had been an onslaught of texts in the three weeks since Y/n had moved out of the Dogtrack. She hadn’t expected people to not notice she was gone, but she hadn’t thought so many of them would care.

She’d ignored every single one.

She wasn’t the only one who’d chosen to stick with Keeley. Barbara had stayed on as well. With Rebecca’s generous financing, the three of them were keeping their ship afloat all by themselves. Jack be damned.

True to her word, Y/n handled all Richmond business from afar, only popping in with Keeley for an occasional meeting with Rebecca and Higgins. She sorted press conferences and post-match interviews without ever stepping foot in the building. If it weren’t so unhealthy, it would have been impressive.

In her makeshift office, actually the conference room, Y/n paced around her computer. She eyed the screen each time she passed by. Roy had a presser scheduled for the afternoon. Sam and…another player were meant to join him. Sam she could handle seeing, though Lord knows she felt guilty for ghosting him. The other one…

“Oh,” Y/n waved herself off, feeling ridiculous. She was a grown woman. She could handle it, she thought, as she turned on the video feed.

Springing to life on her screen, Roy sat between Sam and Jamie, fielding questions.

Y/n’s insides locked up. Jamie.

They hadn’t spoken since the night he’d shown up at her apartment. Not a single text or run-in. It was no longer just Y/n avoiding him, Jamie was actively not speaking to her.

Y/n tried to focus on Sam’s answers, he spoke humbly about Richmond’s 15-game win streak. The last three had been unbelievable you-had-to-be-there kind of matches. Hiding in her apartment with a Sky Sports broadcast hadn’t compared to the real thing. Y/n missed the energy of the stadium and the joy of watching the boys.

Her eyes kept floating back to Jamie. He was hunched over the table, biting his nails, not making eye contact with anyone. He didn’t look like he wanted to be there at all.

Marcus Adebayo, though he answered to Roy’s nickname of ‘better Trent,’ stood and addressed Jamie. “On the heels of making your England debut, how does it feel to be named Premier League Player of the Month?”

“Eh, um, yeah. Yeah, it feels good, I guess,” Jamie answered hesitantly, “But it’s really the team making me look good. So, I should be doing a better job of making them look good, really.”

If Y/n had been in the room, Sam, Roy and her would have all shared the same puzzled look.

“So, yeah. Makes me feel bad,” Jamie finished with a pursed frown.

Roy leaned forward, “Uh, Jamie also led the league in assists this month so he’s done plenty to make his teammates look good.”

“Yeah, but they’re the ones who took all the shots,” Jamie corrected softly.

“He also scored a goal,” Sam interjected.

“T-that was meant to be a pass,” Jamie pointed out, his voice high with anxiety, “You shouldn’t count that. That goal is a lie. It should be retracted from the records.”

Y/n shook her head in confusion, whispering to the empty room, “What are you doing?”

“I apologize to everyone,” Jamie continued, “Especially to the kids.”

“Right, let’s call it there, everyone,” Roy decided at the exact second Y/n was internally stepping forward, “That was great. Thanks very much.”

Y/n stared at the screen, her gaze following Jamie until he was off camera. Whoever had been speaking wasn’t any variation of the Jamie Tartt she knew. He was so out of character it was concerning.

She glanced at her phone, the device silently begging her to type a message. Ask him. Talk to him. Find out what’s wrong. Help him.

Instead, Y/n took a deep breath, closed out the browser, opened her email and got back to work. No good could come from her reaching out. Jamie would be absolutely fine without her, better even. And she would be fine without him.

—————————

Y/n wasn’t a woman who ever thought a man’s presence added anything to a situation she couldn’t. But as she heaved the water jug onto the cooler, she wished that she hadn’t sent the delivery guy away under the assumption she could do it herself.

She returned to the main room to find Keeley in conversation with Roy, both of them turning to face her.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Roy asked.

Y/n motioned to the space around them, “I work here.”

“No, you don’t,” he replied matter-of-factly, “You work at Richmond.”

“Y/n has been here the last few weeks,” Keeley answered, “Just to get things back up and running while we’re short staffed.”

Roy took deep pride in not interjecting himself into anyone else’s business. Sure, he’d helped Isaac through whatever the fuck had caused his meltdown last month. Yes, he offered Ted advice from time to time. But the other 99% of the time, he didn’t particularly care what choices the people around him made. Their lives were theirs and his was his.

But Jamie and Y/n were another fucking deal.

He wouldn’t have invited Y/n along to their 4AM training sessions if he hadn’t known she helped keep Jamie’s spirits up. He’d caught the two of them leaving the parking lot together more than a dozen times. He’d noticed Jamie be the first one on the pitch whenever Y/n was observing training and the first one off when she was waiting on him for lunch. He was well aware the two of them were attached at the fucking hip. Y/n’s disappearance had thrown everything off-balance. Maybe it wasn’t the reason for Jamie breaking down in Roy’s arms earlier, but it certainly couldn’t be helping.

“Oh,” Roy humored the answer, smiling at Y/n. “That’s very kind of her.”

Y/n grinned back nervously, Roy could see through everyone’s bullshit but his own.

“She could help too,” Keeley suggested.

“Help with what?” Y/n asked.

Keeley gestured to Roy for an explanation. “Jamie’s going through some shit. I asked Keeley to talk to him, but since you two are close, maybe you could too.”

Big fat flashing red sirens went off in Y/n’s head. “Oh, I really don’t think I’d help anything,” she struggled, “I-I think Keeley’s much more suited.”

“Not necessarily,” Keeley disagreed as Roy continued to stare Y/n down, “I mean, you two are really good friends.”

“We’re not that close,” Y/n lied, “I mean, we’ve hung out a couple of times but really,” she extended a hand toward her boss, “You definitely know him better.”

Unlike her ex, Keeley had no problem inserting herself in other people’s business. She hadn’t yet approached Y/n about the headlines she and Jamie had made after the England match or the fact that she didn’t want to go near Nelson Road. Since coming back from London, Y/n had pulled away from everyone and everything, Keeley included.

Roy was taking some sick joy in egging Y/n on, “Oh, no, I think-“

“I’ll take care of it,” Keeley jumped to say, ending whatever confrontation was about to take place. “Promise.”

Y/n and Roy held eye contact, challenging one another to break first. Eventually, Roy’s desire to look at Keeley won out and he turned away.

“Thanks,” he glanced back over at Y/n, “I’ll leave you two to your work.”

Stealing one more fleeting gaze at his ex-girlfriend, Roy left the way he’d come, leaving Y/n with a whole new bunch of unresolved feelings.

“He’s quite handsome.”

Y/n startled, she hadn’t even realized Barbara was seated at her desk for the whole exchange. She headed for the conference room, eager to get away from every part of the conversation.

Keeley hung back a moment before following her and gently knocking on the door. “Hi,” she entered slowly, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Y/n answered with faux cheeriness, seated once more at her desk/table, “Fine.”

“It’s just back there…you seemed a bit on edge when Roy mentioned Jamie,” Keeley broached the topic with care.

Y/n’s muscles involuntarily clenched, she tried to keep an even expression. “No, I’m fine.”

Keeley hesitated, nearly turning around and leaving before deciding to just go for it. “You know, if this is about the pictures of you two, I don’t think anyone thinks-“

Y/n sighed, “Keeley, I’m fine. I just think Roy should do his fucking job and take care of his players instead of pawning them off on one of us.”

“I’m not talking about Roy,” Keeley replied, “I’m talking about-“

“Jamie and I are not close,” Y/n said, her tone harsher than intended, “We are not friends. There’s nothing wrong with him, we’re just not as chummy as everyone seems to think we are. End of story.”

Keeley knew Y/n’s edges were sharp, but she hadn’t ever seen her snap so quickly. It only told her there was more to the issue than she’d guessed.

“Got it,” she gave a single nod, “I’m sorry I asked.”

Y/n regretted her words the moment she’d said them. Keeley hadn’t deserved her misplaced frustration. But the mere mention of that night triggered Y/n’s fight-or-flight response. Mixed with the knowledge that something was wrong with Jamie and that Roy clearly knew something, it was all too much.

She stared out the conference room window, landing on Keeley and Barbara’s desks they’d pushed together. She could have been with them, working together as a team. Instead, she was hiding away, once again deciding that the isolation could keep her safe from everything.

Everything except the gnawing fear that she was responsible for Jamie’s behavior.

—————————

Finally, the long awaited weekend arrived.

Man City versus Richmond.

Y/n left no stone unturned when searching for a new excuse not to attend the match. She’d had her period the first week of her three week absence, sick and exhausted the next two. If she’d had any family in the country, there would have been some fake emergency involving them.

She knew she couldn’t get away with a full month’s nonattendance. She had to go to Manchester.

Packing an overnight bag at 6AM and getting on the road by 7 had been her self-ruled terms. The last thing Y/n wanted was to be stuffed on a bus with everyone she was trying to avoid for four hours. Driving herself allowed not only space, but an escape route, if she needed it.

She was barely out of London when Keeley rang her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” the Bluetooth speakers of the car projected Keeley’s voice, “We’re loading the bus up. Just wanted to see where you were.”

Y/n sighed, she’d forgotten to tell someone she wasn’t coming with the team. “Actually, I’m already on the road. I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d get an early start.”

“Oh,” Keeley sounded a bit disappointed, but not entirely surprised, “That makes sense. Smart choice.”

“Yeah,” Y/n replied, feeling the familiar burn in her gut that came with each lie she told, “I’m a bit ahead of you guys so I’ll see you when you get there.”

“Alright. Drive safe, yeah?”

“You too,” she said before disconnecting the call.

Y/n tried to listen to music, tried to play a podcast, but she found that anything other than silence just didn’t feel right. Every song seemed to trace back to her situation and every spoken word seemed to be speaking directly to her, telling her everything she was doing was wrong.

The silence was no more comforting, it only gave her more room to ruminate about the weekend. How was she supposed to avoid Jamie in such close quarters? How was she supposed to keep away from Ted, Rebecca, Keeley, the rest of the team? It felt like a mistake to come and an equally massive one to stay behind.

A long four hours later, Y/n pulled up to the Hacienda Hotel. The Greyhound bus had yet to arrive. She actually stood a chance at getting up to her room and dodging company till the match.

Y/n gave her car to the valet and dragged her single suitcase through the lobby. She headed straight for the front desk.

“Hi,” she greeted the concierge, “I have a reservation under Y/l/n.”

“Let me just check,” the man replied, typing the last name into his computer. He frowned, “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t seem to have that reservation.”

“No, that can’t be right,” Y/n calmly replied, “I called yesterday about transferring one room under the Richmond block to my name.”

The man scrolled through his list a second time, “Unfortunately, that request doesn’t seem to have been entered into our system. All the Richmond rooms are reserved under the name ‘Lasso.’”

Y/n sighed, she’d gone to extreme lengths to separate herself before even stepping foot in the city. So much so that she’d been willing to pay her own overpriced hotel rate.

“Fine,” she relented, “It doesn’t matter. Checking in to one room under the name ‘Lasso.’”

“Unfortunately, ma’am,” the employee grimaced, “Under hotel policy, we can’t check in individual guests if the reservation is under a different name. You’ll have to wait until the main guest has arrived.”

Y/n’s plan crumbled further, Ted had to check her in? Worse, she’d have to wait with the whole fucking team?

Just as she’d connected the dots, the hiss of a Coach could be heard outside. Y/n whipped her head around to see the AFC Richmond logo and the moving silhouettes of the boys through the dark windows.

“There,” Y/n pointed to the bus, “The main guest’s there. Check me in.”

The man hesitated, “I’m sorry, ma’am. I have to wait to confirm-“

“How many people named ‘Lasso’ do you think there are in this country?” Y/n whispered in a panic, “He’s right in there, he’s making shitty puns,” her hand bounced against the desk, “Check me in.”

Arguing would have been hard considering Ted was an anomaly in England. The concierge conceded to Y/n’s demand and began the process.

Y/n nervously drummed her fingers against the counter, glancing back to see Will emerging from the bus. Behind him were Isaac, Richard and Jan.

“You’ll be in room #601, ma’am,” the concierge reported and handed her a room key.

Y/n yanked the card out of his palm before he could tell her the bellboy would be happy to take her suitcase. “Thank you.”

She hurried across the lobby to the elevator, praying she could make a getaway without anyone see-

“Hey, Y/n!”

She stopped in her tracks, so close…

Y/n turned around and spotted Ted, hurrying across the lobby as one would after a long drive. She managed a smile and a wave, pressing the elevator’s button repeatedly with her other hand.

“Don’t forget,” Ted called as he made a beeline for the bathrooms. “Team movie, 7:30. I’ll give ya a hint; if you love Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, you ain’t gonna wanna miss this one!”

In three weeks, Y/n had dodged a lot of invitations. A lot. Another declination and she was convinced she’d develop an ulcer.

“Sounds good,” she shouted just as the elevator doors opened. She jumped inside and pressed her floor number before anyone else spot her.

Just before the doors closed, she caught the first of the boys entering the lobby. Just past Sam, Y/n glimpsed the sharp edges of Jamie’s face. Her heart caught in her throat, the mere sight of him was enough to startle her.

She wondered how long she could pretend everything was fine before she proved herself wrong.

—————————

Y/n hid in her room the rest of the day. She didn’t dare leave to get ice or see the city, sure that with her luck, she’d run into someone the second she stepped out.

Half-way through the afternoon, a knock at the door surprised her. She peeked through the peephole to see Keeley. Out of anyone, she was the one that Y/n couldn’t totally avoid.

The door swung open and Y/n put on a smile, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Keeley greeted, “You beat us here.”

“Yeah,” Y/n chuckled, “Trust me, I’d have rather gotten the sleep.”

“Right,” Keeley chortled, “Can I come in?”

Y/n opened the door wider and allowed it. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to steal your pillow chocolates,” her boss cheekily smirked but didn’t move to grab the candy.“And…to ask if you might reconsider talking to Jamie?”

“Keeley,” Y/n sighed in frustration, rubbing at her face, “I told you-“

“I know,” Keeley held up her hands, “But I just talked to him and…he’s really in his head. It’s bad, Y/n. I’ve never seen him like this.”

While she could pretend all she wanted that Jamie meant little to her, Y/n was growing more and more worried. Every one of his dreams were coming true, and the ones that hadn’t were on the horizon. He should have been on top of the world and instead, he was spiraling. She wanted nothing more than to bang on his door, wrap him in her arms and fix it all. Put him back together until he was his glorious self.

“Look,” Y/n pushed on one of her eyes, “Keeley, whatever you think I’m capable of doing for Jamie, I’m not. I’m not a footballer, I’m not his coach, I’m not his girlfriend,” she found the last words uncomfortably difficult to get out, “I’m half his publicity team. That’s it.”

“You’re more than that,” Keeley replied, she had the kindest way of arguing. “You two have been glued to each other’s sides since you got to Richmond. Jamie trusts you. If you just talk to him-“

Y/n pressed her hands against her lips as Keeley spoke. The panic was beginning to swirl inside her again.

“Keeley,” she cut her off and enunciated her words, “I can’t help him.”

After a whole season of working together, Keeley could easily tell when Y/n was lying, both to others and herself. She didn’t need to know what her and Jamie meant to one another, all that mattered was they did. If Y/n wasn’t ready to acknowledge it, there wasn’t anything Keeley could do.

“Okay,” she replied, once again resigned in her failed quest, “I’ll leave you be.”

Y/n didn’t move as Keeley’s furry jacket brushed past her, shutting her eyes to hide the tears. Only when she was alone once more did she let them streak her cheeks. Somewhere down the hall, Jamie was hurting, and that meant she was hurting as well.

—————————

At exactly 7:30, Y/n made her way down the hotel hall. Different conference rooms lined the walls and she followed their numbers till she found the one Ted had texted her. She slipped through the back door, the lights were dimmed and everyone had already taken their seats. Her version of perfect timing.

From her vantage point, Y/n had a perfect layout of the seating arrangement. The team were gathered in the first few rows. Keeley and Roy were at one end of the back row, with Ted, Beard, Rebecca and Higgins following. Y/n couldn’t help but let her eyes run over the players’ heads, spotting Jamie’s mop of hair in the front row.

After evaluating her options, Y/n chose the safest one at the nearest end of the back row, next to Trent Crimm.

“Just in time,” he whispered as she took the seat beside him.

“Yeah,” she replied, “Got lost.”

Trent nodded, waiting a few seconds before speaking up again, “You know, I’m sure anyone would be happy to switch. In case you wanted to sit with your friends.”

Y/n peered over at Trent, whose eyes gleamed suspiciously with knowledge.

“I’m fine,” she readjusted in her chair to prove the point.

Trent nodded, trying and failing not to smirk, “I’m honored to rank so high on your priority list.”

Y/n’s glance turned into a stare, the former journalist was smiling as if she were made of glass. Were her actions so obvious that even he had noticed?

Trent settled back into his chair, shifting his attention to the opening credits. Y/n did the same and focused just as the main title popped up.

You’ve Got Mail.

She groaned internally, if the universe was out to get her, choosing one of the most romantic comedies of all time was the greatest insult it could hurl.

For an hour and fifty-nine minutes, Y/n squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She couldn’t go more than thirty seconds without sneaking a peek at Jamie, who hadn’t moved at all since the start. He was a fidgeting mess every waking minute of the day. Something was terribly off.

After Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks kissed in the New York garden and his golden retriever leaped to embrace them, the lights came back on. Y/n distractedly clapped along with the rest of the room, already eyeing her exit.

“All right. Listen up, you big softies,” Ted announced, “10PM, lights out. Then get yourselves some beauty sleep for tomorrow’s big meet-cute with Man City. You hear? Alright, Ephron on three. One, two, three-“

A few people, Beard being the loudest, chanted the filmmaker’s name.

“Lovely to see you again,” Trent said, a tease to his tone, as Y/n got up and out of her seat.

She hesitated, catching his knowing expression once more, and debated saying something. She decided it wasted energy and turned on her heel, making it only two steps before Keeley grabbed hold of her arm.

“Come on,” she ordered, pulling Y/n behind her.

“What?” Y/n asked, “Where the-“

Keeley didn’t answer, tugging her across the room towards the door Roy was holding open.

“Keeley, what-“

“Shh,” Keeley hushed, finally letting go of Y/n’s arm.

Y/n followed alongside her boss and Roy, unsure of where they were leading her. When they got to the lobby and she caught Jamie’s silhouette ahead of them, she came to a halt.

“No.”

“Y/n-“ Keeley began.

“No,” Y/n slashed a hand through the air, “I told you no.”

“Fuck your no,” Roy snapped, “I don’t care what the fuck’s going on wth you two, but your job is to make the club look good,” Roy pointed to Jamie’s fleeting figure, “And he makes us look good. So you’re gonna do your fucking job and you’re gonna help us fucking fix this.”

Y/n chuckled with deep annoyance, “You know what? Fuck you, Kent. I’m not one of your footballers you can boss around any time you’re in a shit mood,” she stuck a finger out at Roy, “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Oi!” Keeley exclaimed, her heels slapping against the floor as she marched back, “Both of you, stop it. Come on!”

Roy and Y/n broke their stare, Jamie was rounding the corner and heading out the hotel’s doors. Sparing each other one more hardened glare, they followed Keeley.

The three of them exited the hotel, Keeley spotting Jamie passing the Richmond bus, and they traced his path. Against all she told herself, Y/n went on her own free will, chasing him through the Manchester evening.

Keeley’s stalking technique involved scurrying behind cars and lampposts, while Y/n clung to building walls. Ever the least subtle of any group, Roy simply walked the street, not using much caution to mask his presence.

They followed Jamie through neighborhoods and into the inner part of the city. They crossed bridges, climbed stairs and finally ended up on one side of a florescent lit tunnel. On their descent down the steps, they lost sight of him.

“The fuck is he?” Roy asked.

“I don’t know,” Keeley answered, “You’ve lost him.”

Roy glanced around them, “You said he went down here.”

“I did not,” Keeley argued, “You said that.”

“No, I said he’s in a tunnel,” Roy corrected as the three of them marched down the way, “I didn’t say he was in this tunnel. She’s the one who thought it was this one.”

“He did come down this one,” Y/n said sternly.

“Well, there’s no other tunnel, is there?” Keeley reprimanded them, “I don’t believe it. You’ve lost Jamie Tartt.”

“We didn’t lose him,” Y/n argued, silently worried. The second she’d lost eyes on Jamie was the second their surroundings suddenly became unsettling.

“You can’t lose Jamie Tartt,” Roy replied.

“Well, you have,” Keeley fired back.

“OI!”

Roy, Keeley and Y/n jumped at the exclaim, spinning around and shouting various expletives.

“Fucking hell!”

“What the fuck?!”

Jamie stood, hood over his head and hands in his pockets. “Why are you following me?”

“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay, you prick,” Roy spoke kind words with contrasting anger.

“What’s going on, Jamie?” Keeley asked, “Are you buying drugs?”

Jamie’s confused stare turned to Y/n, he locked up. The three weeks of not seeing her made her sudden presence feel like a hallucination.

Any face Y/n had been wearing dropped the second her eyes met Jamie’s. This was the closest they’d been since that night outside her apartment.

They came back to themselves quickly, hiding whatever they were feeling for the sake of Keeley and Roy being present.

Jamie nodded towards the path ahead of them, “Come on.”

Roy, Keeley and Y/n followed without question as Jamie guided them through the tunnel. It led up to a crowded neighborhood, a council estate that looked like it had seen better days.

Y/n made an effort to follow Roy, keeping as much distance as she could between her and Jamie. Her presence would probably mess with his head even more so than her absence might have. She was starting to wonder if the choice to come had been a selfish one.

They passed a group of kids kicking a football against a brick wall.

“Oi,” one of them called, “Are you Jamie Tartt?”

Jamie pushed back his hood, “Yeah.”

“More like Jamie Fart,” the youngest taunted.

“Screw you, dickhead,” the tallest one shouted, “Prick!”

“Yeah, who are you?”

“City’s gonna fuck you up tomorrow!”

Through the haranguing of insults, Jamie smiled, glancing over to Keeley, and sneaking one at Y/n. He led them away towards the row of houses.

Roy stuck around, turning to stare down the kids, who’d gone dead silent. Y/n readied herself to drag Roy away kicking and screaming from unloading on them.

Instead, he held up his hands in an ‘ok’ sign, “Good lads.”

While the kids were clearly thrilled at having been complimented by the Roy Kent, Y/n slapped his arm as hard as she could. Roy grasped it and silently protested before Y/n pointed to where Jamie and Keeley had gone off to.

They arrived on the doorsteps of one of the houses. Jamie rang the doorbell and they waited till a pair of eyes popped through one of the door’s glass bits.

“Hey,” the man exclaimed before opening the door, greeting them with a wide grin, “Jamie!”

“How you doing, Simon?” Jamie smiled and pointed to the group, “This is Keeley, that’s Roy, and that’s Y/n.”

“Come on in, come on in,” Simon waved them into the home.

Jamie entered first, shaking Simon’s hand, “How are you, mate? Good seeing you, man.”

“Yeah, great,” Simon replied as he ushered his guests in.

Keeley, Roy and Y/n all gave various greetings as they crossed the threshold. None of them knew quite where they were.

“Georgie,” Simon called up the stairs, “We’ve got visitors!”

A female voice called back down, “What was that, love? Someone at the door?”

Jamie made a beeline for the bottom of the staircase, just as a woman stopped at the top, frozen by what lay in front of her.

“Hello, Mommy.”

Y/n’s eyes widened.

Georgie screamed as she ran down the steps, leaping into her son’s arms. “Jamie!”

“Mommy, I’d like to introduce you to Keeley,” Jamie turned to face his friends, “And this hairy prick’s Roy,” his smile dropped an imperceptible inch, “And that’s Y/n over there.”

“Hi,” Keeley greeted in her normal bubbly tone.

“Hi,” Y/n managed to eek out, holding up a nervous hand.

“Hey, you,” Roy said smoothly.

“Hi,” Georgie greeted them all while hugging Jamie once more, “It’s lovely to finally meet you all. I’d come and give you a hug,” she squeezed the sides of her son’s face, “But I’m not letting go of this one!”

Jamie lifted his mom into the air and spun her around.

“There they go,” Simon observed, “Right, who wants some sweet treats?”

Simon slipped off deeper into the house while Georgie and Jamie stayed in their embrace.

“Look at your gorgeous face,” she exclaimed as Jamie carried them both down the hallway, “I love it. How have you been? Look at you.”

Run. All of Y/n’s instincts told her to run right back out that door and take her chances with being abducted in the sketchy tunnel. Roy and Keeley must have sensed her unease because Keeley reached back for Y/n’s hand and Roy kept behind her, forcing her inside.

Georgie and Jamie had managed to separate long enough for Jamie to snuggle up against his mom on the living room couch. Keeley, Y/n and Roy stood at the entrance to the room, unsure of where to go.

“Oh, come and sit down,” Georgie gestured to the rest of the room.

Keeley and Roy entered less hesitatingly than Y/n, who took up a seat on the arm of the couch. To say she was uncomfortable was an understatement of epic proportions. Here she’d gone to every effort to avoid Jamie, and she’d ended up in what was clearly his childhood home with his mother.

She glanced over at the shrine to Jamie on the far wall, various pictures of him from different stages of life proudly displayed. Baby pictures all the way to league headshots. Y/n wanted to evaporate into thin air.

Simon popped back into the room with a plate of baked goods, dishing one out to each of his guests as Georgie and Jamie talked.

“It was just poopy,” Jamie quietly vented to his mom, his thick accent changing the word entirely, “You know, it really upset me. This guy on Twitter, he kept saying that it was blonde, but I’m like, ‘It’s fucking walnut mist, mate.’”

Y/n nearly spit out the bite of scone she was chewing. If this whole debacle was about his vanity, she’d march out the door. They’d argued several times over the exact shade of the highlights.

“Yeah, obviously,” Georgie agreed, stroking her son’s hair, “He’s done a lovely job, it’s dead natural.”

Simon finished pouring the tea, looking up expectantly at the party. “What do you think?”

Keeley smiled, “It’s really yummy.”

“Yeah, it’s wonderful,” Y/n managed to find her voice.

Keeley elbowed Roy, who was lost staring at the sight of his former nemesis cuddled up with his mother like a lost child. “It’s fucking delicious,” he said distractedly before returning.

“Well, it’s a Paul Hollywood recipe, but I’ve gone a little bit rogue on it,” Simon explained.

Allowing herself to slip back into a world where Jamie was damn near the center, Y/n wondered who Simon was. He clearly wasn’t Jamie’s biological father, he was the complete antithesis of the man she’d heard horror stories about. Jamie had never mentioned having a step-dad.

“Babes,” Georgie said softly, “Do you wanna give Roy, Keeley and Y/n the grand tour? Show them around a bit?”

“Yes,” Simon agreed, catching the signals his wife was throwing at him. “Good idea. Thank—“ he stood and hit his head on the overhead light, “Oops! Right, follow me. We will start in the kitchen, aka my laboratory.”

Y/n was the first to stand, but fell behind Keeley, making her a buffer. When Roy hesitated to leave, she tugged him harshly out the room.

“Fuckin’ grip you’ve got,” he complained as they walked to the kitchen.

“Oh, bite me,” Y/n retorted. Keeley had good intentions, but she was ready to kick Roy for dragging her into this.

Simon took them on a full tour of the house, showcasing his kitchen and its appliances off as if they were his most prized possessions. All along the walls of the house were pictures of him and Georgie on various trips and holidays. Scattered between them were childhood pictures of Jamie.

Eventually, Simon led them up the stairs and down a short hall. “And here is the main attraction,” he announced, opening a door and flipping on a light, “Jamie’s room.”

“Oh, sweet Lord,” Y/n muttered under her breath. This was way too deep in.

The room seemed untouched since the day Jamie had left it. Both childhood toys and teen paraphernalia were stacked on shelves and dressers. The bedding had a football pattern to it and there were various trophies for the sport nearby. On the walls, there were school certificates and diplomas and-

“Fucking hell.”

Y/n turned to see a poster of Roy, sporting a Chelsea kit and a very shaggy haircut tacked to Jamie’s wall.

“Ah, yes,” Simon looked to the footballer, “Many posters have come and gone over the years. Henry, Gerrard, Ronaldo…but Roy Kent, always remains.”

Y/n slapped a hand over her mouth and snorted, ignoring the daggers Roy was sending her way.

An phone alarm went off and Simon pulled the device out of his pocket. “Oh! Meat pies are done,” he said, “Excuse me.”

As he shut the door, another poster was revealed. This one of Keeley during her more risqué modeling days, holding two footballs against her breasts.

“Fucking hell,” she grunted.

“Yep, no, can’t do it,” Y/n finally found her voice and the doorknob. She wasn’t sure she could spend another second in Jamieland without her head exploding. “Simon!”

Their friendly host had barely made it down one of the stairs, “Yeah?”

“Let me help you with the pies,” Y/n jogged down the hall.

“Oh, no, you go ahead and look around,” he said kindly.

“No, really,” Y/n followed him down the staircase, “You’re kind enough to deal with three strangers barging into your house. It’s the least I can do.”

Simon scoffed lightheartedly as he led them into the kitchen, “No friend of Jamie’s is a stranger in this house,” he slipped on a pair of oven mitts, “Right, if you want to place these on the cooling rack.”

Simon pulled out the tray of pies and set them on the stove. Y/n went about setting them on the racks, wondering if she’d made the better choice. Now, instead of sitting in Jamie’s bedroom, she was cooking with his step-dad.

“So,” Simon spoke as he moved about the kitchen, “I can gather what brought Jamie here, but what made you three tag along?”

“Oh,” Y/n searched for an explanation, “He’s been a bit…off…lately and we were just worried about him.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” he replied, “Coming home’s a big deal, especially in this case.”

Y/n furrowed her brows, “How do you figure?”

“Well, if you were playing against your hometown in your hometown,” Simon wiped his hands on his apron, “Might stir up some feelings.”

Said out in the open, it all sounded so obvious. Of course Jamie was struggling with playing Man City. Not only that, he hadn’t spoken to his dad in ages and it was almost guaranteed the bastard would show up to cheer against his own son.

Y/n sighed, she felt like an idiot.

“Speaking of home,” Simon broke her out of her head, “Your accent doesn’t suggest you’re from around here.”

“No,” Y/n returned to their conversation, “I, uh, moved here for school and never left.”

“Oh, fascinating. What made you stay?”

Y/n shrugged and placed the last of the pies on the cooling rack. “I was just settled and didn’t want to leave.”

“That must’ve been awful for your parents,” Simon said, “When Jamie moved to London, Georgie was devastated, and that’s only a half day’s drive. I can’t imagine a whole ocean’s worth of distance.”

If Y/n thought the night couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, the mention of her parents proved her wrong. Between the location, a vulnerable Jamie in the next room, and her family being brought up, she thought she might burst into tears.

“They’re okay with it,” she answered.

“Gosh,” Simon commented, stood at the island, “That can’t be true.”

“It is,” Y/n replied quickly and spun around, attempting a smile, “But I’ve got a lovely life here.”

“Of course,” he grinned, “Working for a football club’s got to be exciting. Jamie’s mentioned you plenty.”

Y/n wasn’t moving, but she could feel everything inside her stop. “Jamie’s…mentioned me?”

“Loads,” Simon nodded, “He calls round every once in a while. Obviously he keeps busy, but the name Y/n has come up nearly every conversation. I thought I might break into hives when Georgie told me about the Christmas dinner you two cooked.”

Simon began to recount all the memories shared between Jamie and Y/n that he and Georgie had become privy to. It wasn’t just the more notable moments like their chaotic Christmas or helping Y/n move to Richmond, but the little ones too. Sneaking into the stadium for lunch breaks in the seats. Post-match interviews Y/n oversaw and how Jamie would try and make her laugh with his answers. Y/n making Jamie decorate his house because the bareness of it drove her crazy. Jamie showing up on Y/n’s doorstep on her birthday right at midnight. Trying to learn how to cook together after the disastrous Christmas dinner and kind of, almost, sort of succeeding. Picking one another’s songs at team karaoke nights. Conversations in the hallways of Nelson Road. Movies and shows suggested to one another and the reactions that followed.

The whole of Jamie and Y/n’s relationship was played back for her in his parent’s kitchen.

She was speechless.

“I, uh,” she managed, her eyes beginning to glisten, “I didn’t know Jamie talked that much about his friends.”

“His friends?” Simon looked to Y/n before ducking his eyes away when he saw she was serious, “Oh, yes…his friends.”

The small slip was enough to confirm what Y/n already suspected.

“Um,” she said, her throat suddenly thick, “It’s getting late. Would you mimd telling Roy and Keeley I took a cab back to the hotel?”

“Of course,” Simon smiled, “Can I send you home with a pie?”

“Oh, no, that’s alright,” Y/n was already crossing the kitchen, “But thank you so much for the scones. Please tell Georgie thank you for letting us interrupt your night.”

Simon waved her off, “Nonsense. Get back safe.”

Y/n speed walked down the hall, not sparing so much as a glance in the living room’s direction. She threw the front door open and hurried down the way. With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and ordered an Uber.

Her breath came in quick puffs, the anxiety creating quite a home in her chest. She was on the verge of having the worst anxiety attack of her life, all because she’d come to the conclusion that she was cared for. No, this wasn’t care. This was something else entirely.

Little did she know, the second he’d heard her brush through the hall, Jamie was on high alert. He’d looked up from his mom, jumping to a seated position as the door slammed shut.

“Was that Y/n?” He asked Simon as he passed by the living room.

“Yes, she said she had to get back to the hotel,” Simon answered, grabbing the plate of half eaten scones from the coffee table.

Jamie was up and off the couch in an instant, hurrying down the hall and out the front door. Y/n was stood on the sidewalk, her hand pressed to her chest as if she was on the verge of collapsing.

“Hey.”

Y/n’s head whipped around, Jamie was jogging down the steps to her. He kept a fair bit of distance between them at first, unsure of how she felt about his presence. All she could do was attempt another breath.

“Hey,” Jamie crossed the space, deciding to reach for Y/n’s arms, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head and avoided meeting Jamie’s concerned eyes.

“No, what’s wrong?” Jamie’s thumbs stroked over her sweater.

For all her fight, Y/n couldn’t bring herself to battle the warm grip Jamie had on her. She’d missed it.

“I’m fine, Jamie,” she lied once more, “I just want to go back to the hotel.”

Jamie scanned her face, finding the tears in her red eyes before she could hide them. Just as much as there was something wrong with him, there was something eating away at Y/n.

In the three weeks they’d stayed away from one another, Jamie had found life to be unbearable. The anxiety about playing Man City and the possibility of seeing his father once more had manifested in his playing. He’d struggled through training more and more, slowly becoming paralyzed by the lack of his usual fire. Without Y/n there to go and vent all his fears to, someone who understood without him ever having to explain a thing, it had all snowballed. Breaking down in the boot room and sobbing into Roy’s shoulder could have been avoided. His panic attack when Keeley had come to his room to check on him would have never happened.

But it wasn’t just that. Jamie found himself missing Y/n in the dullest of moments. Making dinner for himself, searching for something on television, driving home from work. Sleep was nearly impossible now that he’d gotten to fade out with her in his arms. The vacancy she’d left in his life was overwhelming. Jamie had never wanted to share such insignificant moments with someone in his life. He’d never felt as unsettled without someone.

This wasn’t some infatuation. He couldn’t live without her.

“Look,” Jamie tilted her head up, her eyes finally meeting his, “I know everything’s wrecked a-and we fucked it all up but…” his breath came out trembling, “But I love you.”

Y/n cries began to shake her chest.

“And I know this is the worst fucking time to say it,” Jamie bit back a laugh, but he felt ten tons lighter with the words finally spoken, “But I don’t regret what happened. If I could go back and do it a hundred times over, I would.”

A single cry escaped Y/n.

“And I need you,” Jamie spoke urgently, dragging a hand to Y/n’s cheek, brushing a thumb over the wet skin, “I need you with me ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’ without you. I don’t. You’ve fucking ruined me.”

Y/n was caught somewhere between a frown and a smile. Her worst fear and her greatest wish.

“Don’t leave, please,” Jamie pleaded, slipping his free hand around Y/n’s waist when she didn’t recoil at his touch. “I wanna be with you.”

Y/n’s sobs caused her whole body to shudder, which only made Jamie to pull her closer. She ended up enveloped in his arms, the only place she’d truly desired to be since the moment she’d left them.

Jamie pressed a kiss to Y/n’s forehead, trying to ease whatever pain and pour out his sentiments. The relief of holding her again was all-consuming and he reveled in it.

For a moment, they both realized what they could have. They could put the whole horrid separation behind them and let themselves be happy. They could come home to one another. They could hold nothing back from each other. They could build a life together and give each other all the love they’d ever been deprived of.

Where Jamie felt hope, cradling the girl he loved, Y/n felt panic, fearing the risk more than the loss.

“Jamie,” she whispered, “No.”

Jamie pulled back, fearfully gazing into her bloodshot eyes. “What do you mean?”

“No,” Y/n repeated, “We can’t.”

“Wh-“ he stammered, she was slipping away from him, “What are you talking about? We can.”

Y/n whined, “I can’t, Jamie. I can’t.”

“You can, you can,” Jamie insisted, holding Y/n’s cheek with purpose. He caught the headlights of the Uber coming down his street, “Why? Why can’t we have this?”

“Tell me,” Jamie softly begged, “Tell me why. Why can’t we have this?”

Finally, Y/n’s emotions burst, everything flooding out in a mess of terror.

“Because I don’t want this,” she exclaimed tearfully, “I don’t want this, Jamie. I don’t want y-“

She caught herself before she could finish it, but it was still too late. The damage had been done, and the wreckage spread across Jamie’s face. His lips parted in shock and his touch lost its urgency.

In her blind panic, Y/n hadn’t expected such a lie to come out of her mouth. But there was no taking it back, and the fear of all Jamie was ready to give was possessing her. This was the only way to keep herself safe.

Behind them, the Uber driver had pulled up to the house. “Oi, one of you Y/n?”

Y/n blinked up at Jamie, who was searching her eyes for the dishonesty in what she’d said. He found it so easily, but her determination to run was visibly clearer.

“Please let me go,” Y/n asked, her voice barely audible. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes as she spoke.

Jamie knew there was no more fight to give. He’d poured the contents of his heart out to her fruitlessly. He couldn’t force her to face the truth, that she might love him back, or that she even cared that he loved her. He was out of plays to make, all he could do was let her walk away.

He dropped his hands as slow as he could, savoring the last feel of her he’d get. Y/n trembled as his fingers left her face, committing his touch to her memory. This was the end before they even reached the beginning.

“In or out, love,” the driver interrupted.

Summoning the last of her strength, Y/n sought out Jamie’s eyes, glistening with tears now. She’d dealt the ultimate blow to an already wounded soldier. Slowly, she backed away from him, fighting every urge to run back into his arms and take it all back. If he took one step towards her, she knew she’d do it.

Jamie obeyed her wishes and didn’t move.

With one final gaze, Y/n turned away, climbing into the backseat of the Uber. He didn’t wait to drive, pulling the car away from as soon as she’d shut the door.

Y/n watched Jamie in the rear view mirror before it became too much. She dissolved to silent wracking sobs, caving in on herself. Not only had she walked away from the man she knew she surely loved, but she’d broken his heart doing so. The self-destruction was no longer only affecting her, she was destroying those around her.

Jamie wiped a shaking hand over his face as he watched the car carry Y/n away. He struggled to comprehend all that had just happened. He’d lost her.

Somehow, he carried himself back inside. He shuffled robotically back into the living room. His mum and Simon were seated on the couch, speaking in hushed tones.

Georgie looked expectantly to her son. Jamie had never needed to talk about him and Y/n in so many words. She knew exactly what he felt. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Jamie stared ahead at the carpet.

“Did you talk to her?” Georgie asked, asking something far deeper.

Jamie nodded.

“Does she feel the same?”

There was the true answer, and there was the easy answer. Jamie chose the latter.

“No.”

——————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #keeley jones x reader #roy kent x reader #heartfirst

462 notes · View notes

lemonlover1110 · 1 year

Text

Baby Steps

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 14] Inconsolable

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Light Angst

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Happy to co-host Gojo NSFW Week 2023! Come join us on Twitter!

Satoru moves out not even two days later, promising to still pay for everything. You’ve had time to process everything, yet you’re still as shocked and confused since the moment he announced everything. You’re so disappointed in yourself to admit that you’ve been crying over him. For some reason you feel as if it’s your fault because you weren’t good enough.

Your relationship was never exclusive so he didn’t owe you anything, you knew that. But you still felt as if something was building up. It was the result of your imagination though, and now you’re inconsolable. Kaya has been checking up on you, making sure that everything is alright. But it’s hard because nothing is alright, and she’s trying to comfort you but it doesn’t work.

“He’s not even handsome, it’s okay. You’re not missing out. In the end Leiko is the one losing.” Kaya says, wrapping her arms around you while you hug a pillow. You cry your heart out, your head not being able to wrap around anything else other than the fact that Satoru’s gone. You’d make someone else believe that he’s dead by the way you’re reacting.

“Why am I not good enough?” You sob, and Kaya swears her heart breaks when she hears this. This wouldn’t be happening if she kept her mouth shut in the beginning. She can’t help but feel guilty about this. This wouldn’t be a problem. “I didn’t even think he liked her.”

“You’re good enough, Satoru is just a dick.” She tells you. You can’t even believe her words. You’re pregnant with his baby, and lived with him, yet he somehow wasn’t satisfied with you. And what hurts the most is the fact that he acted as if you two were in some sort of relationship while he was here, yet apparently that meant nothing.

“We were supposed to watch a movie tonight.” You share with her, and she pouts.

“Do you still want to watch a movie?” She asks, and you tell her no. You’re not in the mood for anything but to cry. Even the happiest movie will make you burst into tears. “Do you want to do something to hurt him?”

“I can’t do anything to hurt him.” You respond, and she tries to think of something that’ll hurt the father of your baby. Then she thinks of something, and she blurts it out before even thinking, “Go on a date!”

“I don’t want to go on a date.” You cry even more, and Kaya keeps thinking of something else while you try to soothe yourself, “Who’d even want to date a pregnant woman? I look so ugly right now.”

“What? How dare you even say that. You’re so beautiful. You’re glowing when you’re not crying.” Kaya tries to comfort you, and it doesn’t seem to be helping you at all. She isn’t so great at comforting people– At least not pregnant women that cry over everything. Although she just doesn’t know what to say in this situation. It’s something she’s never prepared for.

“I regret ever going to that party with you. I would’ve been just fine staying home.” You begin. “I wouldn’t be pregnant, I wouldn’t have met Satoru, I would be just fine. Working and studying without having to worry about a stupid fucking baby.”

“Oh, you don’t mean that.” She says. She knows that you’re excited about this more than anything. It’s just your hurt feelings getting the best of you and taking over your words.

“I don’t. I’m actually so excited to see my son but–” You keep crying, and Kaya’s eyes widen as she gets the idea.

“Do you want to start decorating the nursery?” Kaya proposes and you bury your face into the pillow before refusing. You say something but it’s muffled by the pillow, leading Kaya to ask, “What did you say, honey?”

“Satoru wanted to do that together.” You inform her, and she laughs. You don’t understand why she’s laughing, especially since you’re so miserable.

“Wouldn’t that be great though? Your sort of payback.” She tells you, and right now even though you’re pissed at him, you can’t wrap your head around doing that to him. It just seems cruel. Your stance would be very different if you weren’t overemotional.

“It’s okay.” You tell her, and Kaya pouts. She knows this won’t be the last night that you’ll be crying over Satoru and she dreads it because she can’t stand seeing you sad for much longer.

The next day you’re better. Kaya makes some breakfast for you, and you quietly eat. She looks at your puffy face and she feels a tug on her heart, but she knows better than to bring up anything. It’ll ruin your day and make you start crying earlier than you’d intend.

She refrains from asking questions because she knows that won’t end well. She has to walk on eggshells. She has to think through what she wants to ask because if she doesn’t, you’ll burst into tears. It’s draining.

“How about we go out to eat later? I’ll get a bit tipsy while you sip on some mocktails. Maybe we can go to karaoke.” She speaks up and your eyes light up at the idea. Going out to have some fun is what you need. Spending some time with other people is perfect. While Kaya would want to invite some other people, her other friends are Daisuke and his friends and they’re associated with Satoru.

“I’ll love that.” You respond, and she smiles. She had never really cared to see you smile until now. She had never seen you so sad, even when you found out you weren’t the only girlfriend of your previous boyfriend. And while you’re extremely emotional that anything and everything can make you burst into tears, the emotions that you’ve had the past couple of days are obviously more than just a case of insufficient sweets. “I’ve been thinking about the nursery and while Satoru is an asshole… It’s not his fault that he likes someone else.”

“You’re right.” Kaya nods, realizing how immature she is while next to you. She probably would’ve decorated the nursery a way Satoru would hate, then go out with his best friend. Then again, she’s not in your shoes. Kaya would allow you to be with Daisuke just for you to get petty revenge on Satoru.

There’s a knock on the door that surprises both of you. Neither of you invited someone over. Kaya stands up from the dining table and walks to the front door, suspecting who the unwanted visitor is. And she’s proven right when she opens the door and sees the father of your child, holding a brown paper bag. She puts her hand up, swinging it towards Satoru, but his hand catches her wrist before her skin can strike against his cheek. She swore she’d give Satoru a piece of her mind, including a beating, when she finally saw him.

“Good to see you too, Kaya.” Satoru says, about to push Kaya out of his way to enter the place. The groceries he holds are much heavier than he expected. But it’s as if Kaya is planted into the ground, and she won’t move. She’s pushed to the side but she extends her arm to cover the doorway.

“You’re a fucking piece of shit. You don’t live here anymore so don’t fucking feel entitled to enter the place without permission.” Kaya says, kicking her feet so they hit Satoru’s shin. It doesn’t affect the man though. “You’re really brave showing up around here.”

“Kaya, I pay for this apartment. I have more rights to enter this place than you do.” Satoru responds, and Kaya feels her blood boil.

“If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to start screaming.” She threatens, and it’s fair to say that Satoru is irritated. She begins a countdown, starting at five. Before she even gets to three, Satoru shouts your name. While you were hearing the commotion, you chose to stay away from it, but now your name has been mentioned.

“What do you need, Satoru?” You ask as you walk to the front door, standing behind Kaya. You cross your arms and stare at the man who immediately smiles when he sees you. You look away, not wanting to stare directly at him because you’ll burst into tears again. You feel more calm today, but you’re still very emotional. You can’t just get over stuff like this so easily. He notices and feels horrible, knowing how bad he hurt you.

“May I come in? I have some groceries.” He informs you, and you sigh.

“Who told you I needed groceries?” You question, grabbing Kaya’s arm and dragging her away which allows Satoru to enter the place. He does so, closing the door behind him and taking off his shoes. He puts the brown paper bag on the kitchen counter while he looks around the rather messy place.

“Take off those stupid shades. You look like a clown.” Kaya is quick to insult, and Satoru sighs. He’s gathered that she’s very protective of you, so he guesses he deserves this treatment. “Why are you even here? Groceries? Really? I can do that.”

“Well, are you the father of the baby?” Satoru questions, and she doesn’t like the cocky tone that’s in his voice.

“I’m going to be if you don’t step up your game, blind mouse.” She says, and he furrows his eyebrows in confusion, same as you until you remember the movie she ended up putting last night. You actually chuckle at this, and Satoru decides not to argue more because you ended up laughing and he doesn’t want to ruin that.

“Do you two have plans tonight?” Satoru sighs while asking the question. He’s been dreading this the whole way here but Leiko would only accept to date him if he did this. In his brain he’s thinking that killing Suguru would be easier than doing this to you.

“Yes–” Kaya begins, but she’s met with your,

“No.”

“Leiko and I were wondering if you’d like to join us for dinner.” He slowly and awkwardly asks the question, and you have no idea what to say. Tears well up in your eyes again and you’re trying your best to hold them back, while Kaya’s hands ball up into fists and she tries her best to not start hitting the man. However, she’s at a great disadvantage. He’s bigger, stronger, and taller than she is. So she does the next best thing, grabbing a glass that’s nearby and throwing it straight at his head.

Luckily for Satoru, and unluckily for Kaya, he has great reflexes and manages to dodge the glass, causing it to hit the wall behind him. He has to say, she has a great arm and she should consider putting that energy into a sport like baseball. Although he isn’t thinking that when Kaya grabs yet another glass, this time it’s filled with orange juice, and once again throws it at him.

While you want to scream at Kaya to stop, you decide to walk away so you don’t get caught up in the crossfire. Plus, Satoru isn’t having a hard time dodging anything. In the end, Kaya will clean everything up, while Satoru will replace the dinnerware. You’re not losing or gaining anything by stopping them, so you’ll let them settle their differences.

“You son of a bitch. Your mother must’ve dropped you on your head because there’s no way you’re just so fucking stupid.” She’s saying as she’s looking for more things to throw at him. When she goes into the cabinets to look for plates it’s when you finally speak up,

“That’s enough, Kaya.” You tell her, and she freezes. She takes a moment to calm herself, while you look at Satoru, “We’ll join you for dinner if you can replace the dinnerware that Kaya broke. I’m sure that’s not a big problem for you, right?”

“That’s fine. Yep.” Satoru ends up nodding, a bit out of breath. He hadn’t prepared himself for the very extreme workout of evading plates. Your gaze then falls on Kaya again,

“You know what you’ll be doing in the spare time, right?” You ask, and she knows you’re talking to her. She doesn’t know why she’s terrified, she just knows that you’ll end up being an amazing mother.

“Yes.” She answers. You clear your throat before, once again, looking at Satoru.

“What are you still doing here? You can tell us the details through a text message. Get out.” You order and he’s hesitant before he begins to walk to the front door. He has so many things to say, but he bites his tongue. He doesn’t want to make the situation worse than it already is.

When the front door shuts, you walk to the couch and take a seat. In a way, you’re happy that Satoru came because now you’re simply frustrated. Although you’re still sad, your frustration is overshadowing any other feeling.

“You know, Kaya… I think you’re right. Let’s start decorating the nursery.”

🏷 @witchofoe @cactustattoo @kageyamaslittleroyal20 @mykyoon @sunjayist @fonkymonkeyfriday @lilith412426 @luvs-wrld @witchymermaid12 @fi106 @distractionforyourthoughts @dearsunaa @tamak00 @watyousayin @leiriswhore @q-the-rockaholic @shuxjodie @syynnaaah @kleeboomed @shrekmwa @bakugobiddies @blueeskies17 @arminsgfloll @obeythemasters @crispmarshmallow @levismainbabe

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo fanfic #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo saturo

436 notes · View notes

oftenderweapons · 4 months

Text

Natural Connection | KNJ | Ch.5

A Small Town Swoons story

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Plum)

Wordcount: 3.6k

Genre: stragers to lovers, fluff, mild angst; ranger/trainer!Namjoon, Chef!reader

Rating: 18+

Synopsis: Plum wakes up needy, too bad Namjoon has already left her room. Their confrontation doesn't go where expected.

Trigger warnings: swearing, semi-public sex. Making out, grinding, dry humping, mutual masturbation, peaches and cream (i guess???). Musings on unprotected sex. Just a pinch of postcoital misunderstandings. Feral, possessive kissing and light biting.

A/N: Holy moly it's been two years???, but I guess it's better late than never, right? 😅💖 I decided to post this only now since I've already written the final 2 chapters. It's been tought, but I've decided it's time to return to this story and finally complete it (even though Ranger!Joon will be oh so dearly missed. I really didn't want to let go of him LOL, esp since it's time to drop this sunshine baby's full back story 😞🥺🥺🥺)

Here is my Masterlist, enjoy!

Navi: Part 1 – Part 2 — Part 3 – Part 4 - Part 5

When you saw Namjoon the next morning, you only remembered waking up to an empty bed.

It wasn't a pleasant feeling and you weren't ready to acknowledge it like a mature, emotionally stable adult.

“Good morning, Plum,” he murmured, standing very close beside you as he waited for his band of jocks to join you.

“Morning,” you replied, a bit grumpy, but hiding it behind the pretense of courtness.

“Did you sleep alright?” he asked, gentle and apprehensive.

“Uh-huh.”

“Not very wordy, mh?” He nodded to himself. “Okay.” And just like that, conversation was over.

You hated having him right beside you and wasting time in silence when all you wanted to do was hear him talk, but apparently you had to make do with what you had.

The guys arrived all together maybe two minutes after he stopped talking to you.

“Okay, let's stop by the equipment office so you can all get your climbing gear.”

Cruelty didn't even begin to cover the ugly feeling coursing through your every limb. It was a sour kind of betrayal, both from your own body and from the person who has so perfectly won you over in nothing but four days of half smiles and hard work and competent guidance.

It felt like your stomach was being played tennis with, slammed from one side to the other.

Namjoon seemed entirely oblivious to the wretched state you were in, especially once he knelt in front of you and tugged at the straps around your thighs, slipping two fingers in between the harness and your skin to make sure there was enough space for your muscles to flex comfortably. “All set?” he asked, but his voice was dark and once his eyes shot up to your face he couldn't hide a flicker of lust lighting up his guts.

This angle, he thought, was just the same as when he'd lifted your leg and placed the back of your knee over his shoulder, his nose diving in the metallic, earthy scent of you.

He was getting hard. He could tell.

But you took a step back. “Yes.” Your reply was glacial, and it seemed as if you couldn't remove your harness fast enough.

“I'll be right back,” you told him over your shoulder as you headed for the closest restroom in the sports hall.

Namjoon just nodded and watched you go.

“What did you do to her?” Jackson asked him, an unwelcome afterthought, like his personal little devil perched on his shoulder.

“I have no idea,” Namjoon replied, sincere and confused.

“Did you tell her something rude? With your typical lone wolf harshness?” Jaebeom pitched in.

“Who made her mad?” Asked Wooyoung, staring at your figure as you dashed across the hall.

“Namjoon,” said Jackson, not even bothering with stating that maybe you weren't mad at all, and that Namjoon had done absolutely nothing to upset you.

Yet, it was his interaction with you that had made you dash. Or so he thought.

“Go check on the girl, you fool! Didn't mother teach you anything?”

All the guys turned in Bangchan's direction and he seemed to quote, “Broke your heart I'll put it back together, I would wait forever and ever, and that's how it works, that's how you get the girl.”

Jackson and Jaebeom just stared at him, as if they couldn't recognise their friend at all.

“She literally said what every girl wants and we still act like girls are a mystery. Just listen to them, for goodness’ sake.”

Namjoon nodded for a couple seconds, then started in the direction you went.

He entered the corridor to the restroom, and hesitated by the shared washing room that gave access both to the men's toilets and the women's ones. He walked through the women's door. Three other doors in front of him.

He really, wholeheartedly hoped there weren't other women around.

“Plum, are you okay?”

Silence followed.

“I know you're here, Plum. I just need to know you're alright. I don't know what I said or did to upset you, but—”

A door opened and for a second he thought he would die of mortification, then he registered your face.

Relief, at first.

Then something else.

Your cheeks were aflame, and your chest too seemed to be on fire.

Your lips were as red as he'd ever seen them, and it wasn't makeup because he hadn't noticed any bright colour on your face earlier.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You nodded, still speechless.

“You don't seem okay. What is it? Did I—?”

“I am fine, Namjoon. Don't worry. I'm alright. Perfectly okay.”

“But you—”

“Wonderfully fantastic, Namjoon.” Your tone was clipped

You made your way to the door when he stepped in front of it. “Are you?”

You rolled your eyes. “I just told you so!”

He pinched a lock of your hair in between his thumb and forefinger, straightened it, then released it. “You were grumpy this morning.”

“Just stressed about climbing.”

“Nothing to do with me, so?”

You rolled your eyes. Why would he be so perceptive? “Absolutely not.”

“Am I frustrating you?” he asked, and stepped closer.

“Yes, immensely, with all your questions and— The guys will be suspicious. Do they know you—”

“That I came after you? Yes, they saw you dash and suggested I check in on you, which I wanted to do myself, but I wasn't sure it was a good idea, and their validation sort of helped. I know you're mad at me, I don't know why, though!”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You don't know why?!”

You tried to sidestep him, but he was like a wall in front of you. “I don't.”

“I woke up! Alone! I was…!” You gesticulated as if to complete your accusation, but the words wouldn't come out.

“I see,” Namjoon replied, and he immediately noticed it was patronising, which made you seethe at him, pointing a finger against his chest.

“Do not use that tone with me, mister. You could at least have left a note.”

He looked at you like you were nothing but a tiny little mouse he was about to thwart with his big bearish paws. “I'm sorry, Plum. You're right, I should have left a note.”

It was true, he'd dashed earlier that morning, but it was only because a deer had been found not far from the main road, his hind legs severely damaged, and he'd been called to help the local wildlife ranger to pick the animal up for rescue. “It was an emergency and I dashed out and—”

“I woke up and you were gone.” Your eyes were wide, perfectly showing the disbelief you'd felt. “I woke up—” you said, and the pause that followed was like you were looking for words and only the wrong ones were coming up. “I woke up,” you repeated, “wanting you,” you added, cheeks aflame again, eyes aimed at him like guns, like saying ‘you know what I mean’, “And you weren't there,” you concluded.

He stared at you for one or two blinks. “Wanting me?” He asked, and you shoved him back with both your hands, even more fed up.

He, however, caught your wrists and brought them down to your sides, jutting his chin forward in a cocky expression. “You wanted me.”

Your cheeks were boiling and your eyes couldn't bear his face any longer, so you turned them down, to the floor. “Yes.”

“Plum,” he called, his hands trailing up your forearms, all the way to your shoulders.

You shivered, but he proceeded still, headed for the sides of your neck, then your cheeks.

“You want me still, sweets?” His thumbs forced your face up, but your eyes were glued to the floor. “Come on, Plum. Look at me, darling.”

Reluctantly, you did.

“Oh, sweets,” he spoke, ever so gently, so tender. “I was called on an emergency by the rangers of the local park. We were rescuing a deer.”

Your pout was still glued to your face, and you weren't sure why. You're used to commandeering around ten men at a time, but this one, this specific man is not a force you can reckon with.

“I wanted to stay, Plum. I truly did.” He kissed your temple when your initial frustration seemed to subside. “Let me make it up to you, sweets.”

He touched the curve of your neck with his forefinger. “Was it when I asked about your day this morning?” He asked, his finger roaming across your collarbones. “When I asked how you slept?” His finger aimed even lower, just a few millimetres beneath the neckline of your top. He lowered his mouth to your ear, and when he spoke “Or was the sight of me kneeling in front of you, like when you came all over my mouth?”

Your insides clenched like you hadn't just given them the sort of satisfaction they were looking for.

“How can I make it up to you?” He asked, as if he needed to be in your good graces. “Anything you want, sweets.” While one hand drew the line of your side, coming to rest on your waist, the other rested on your jaw, the pad of his thumb tracing your lower lip, and his brow knit as if he were in physical pain from the longing. And goodness, if he knew how to pine…

You let your lips disclose for him and he inhaled sharply as the warmth of your exhale slithered past his fingertip.

His right hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded.

“Do you want me to?”

You nodded again, and he smiled, so softly it killed you.

“Use your words, Plum.”

Your heartbeat skipped, your temper now entirely dissolved into warm honey. “Please, kiss me.”

He nodded, his smile so blindingly happy. And he lowered himself to you.

His lips were soft against your own, so delicate and tentative. No tongue, just tiny pecks.

He seemed ready to let go of you, but you had other thoughts in mind. He was already rising, and all you could do was grip the nape of his hair, and keep him still, kissing the line of his jaw now that his mouth was out of reach.

He pulled back, fighting you a little as you kept delivering open mouthed kisses to his throat, by now reaching his collarbone.

He tipped his head back to make eye contact with you and you stopped.

“You wannit?” He said, the words coming out like a dark purr, smooth and vaguely threatening.

You nodded, exasperated, then remembered his correction from before and whispered, “Will you fuck me, please?”

His grin was devilish and helpless at the same time. He shook his head and tried to angle himself away from you, running his hands through his hair.

He had only as much restraint as a well-disciplined, civilised, mannered man, no more no less.

Even a saint would break for you.

You thought he was about to head for the door and leave when he stood before it, locked it shut and turned back to you, with two great strides before slamming his mouth to yours and grabbing your ass, picking you up like you were nothing compared to what he usually lifts in the gym.

You found yourself with your back to the wall and him pressed up against your front, squeezing you in a way that could have been suffocating, except you loved the way he was so explicit in wanting you, and how easy you could read the restraint he was imposing on himself.

You ground against his navel and he lowered you just a little, so that your core was square against his pelvis.

“Woke up late,” you told him in between kisses and gasps. “I stretched over to your side—“

He tried to focus on your words but all he could do was stare at your mouth and register the bits he needed.

“I wanted you,” you said, and it came out like a cry.

“I know,” he said, soft, understanding, soothing.

“You weren’t there, and I was late, and I couldn’t—” You gasped as he dove for your throat, biting gently, making you arch into him, against him, your bodies flush against each other. “I was so mad. So frustrated.”

“Let it all out, sweets,” he said, reliable, steady, strong. “Lay it all on me.”

“I didn’t even have time to pull myself together ‘cause I was late,” you whine, and it came out so weak, so silly.

“I can fix that for you, if you want me to. Just say the words.” He didn’t even need anything done to himself, he just wanted to please you. So many years of well-spent solitude and self-control had taught him everything about patience, everything about himself. It was not his own pleasure he’d learnt to desire, but the pleasure he could give to someone else.

“Want you inside,” you mumbled, chasing his mouth, needing his lips sucking your own, tongues tangled together. Feeling him through his shorts, through your own shorts too was torture when he could be skin to skin against you, inside you, even.

“We’d need to stretch you first, it’s gonna take a bit, baby,” he reminded you, worried.

You bit your lip and looked away. “What if I’d already handled that?”

His eyes went wide, then he bit your chin fondly with a curious enthusiasm. “Just cause I looked at you while kneeling?”

You felt your cheeks flush with fire. “You were— It was like when, the other day you—”

“Hold tight,” he said, then freed an arm by using his forearm to hold you up from beneath both your thighs. With his spare hand, he shoved his shorts down before stopping. “Condom. Damn!”

You squeezed your eyes shut, then let your forehead fall to his shoulder. “Please…”

“Plum, I—”

You weren’t on birth control, and you couldn’t risk going bare. You possibly never could. Not with your period being the most irregular thing ever, and knowing that you could be ovulating any day now.

He helped you slide down his body. “You don’t happen to—”

“Left them in my bedside drawer.”

He let his forehead fall against the wall.

“I cannot go bare—” you offered weakly.

He kissed your temple. “I wouldn’t ask you that. Not even if we were both one hundred percent sure.”

You bit your lip again, thinking, a frown forming on your forehead. And then—

You took his hand in yours, dragged him to the washbasin, with its mirror right in front of you, and as you stood against the counter, his body pressed up behind you, you lowered your shorts, exposing your naked behind to him.

“Plum, I don't think this is a good idea,” he said, biting his tongue.

“You can just grind and I'll—” You brought your hand to your labia and traced a circle against your core that almost made you shiver.

“This could get messy,” he said.

You turned to look at him from over your shoulder and with a flirty smile you added, “I don’t remember it being a problem last time.”

He shook his head and grinned, wolfish and sexy.

You couldn’t quite align the sight of him now with the person he had been out in public about thirty minutes ago; and it got worse when he grabbed the left side of your face with his right hand and brought his mouth to your cheek, biting it gently, his lips giving it a slight suction, as if he were half between nibbling and kissing.

Your head was playing some hard rock soundtrack while it all happened, and it was feral, and you were almost disconnected from yourself but it was heavenly.

It was all heavenly until they knocked at the door.

You stared at each other in the mirror and he cursed under his breath.

“Keep going,” you whispered. “Let them eat cake.”

It took maybe a millisecond to win him over, and it got even rougher, his hand was at your neck, grabbing at the base of your jaw, and he gave a little jerk as your eyes rolled shut. He called for your attention and as soon as you mustered the strength to open your eyes, he brought his other hand to the hill of your pelvis, his hand dwarfing you as he cupped you. “Eyes on me, Plum.”

And you kept your pupils glued to his as he stuck two of his beautifully long, perfectly thick fingers inside you.

Your jaw went slack and he grinned, your hand reaching behind you to grab his ass, pushing him even closer up against you, clawing at his glute.

This time it was his jaw that was left hanging.

You were moving just right against each other, and the knocking stopped, and the last thing you knew was that he groaned, head thrown back before you felt it, hot and wet against you. His head snapped forward next, teeth sinking at the spot between your neck and shoulder as he tried to muffle a moan.

Similarly, you pressed the ball of your hand to your lips as your left one assisted his own between your legs, his fingers inside you while your digits worked on the outside.

He murmured sweet nothings in your ear as he focused on you, kissing, sucking, nibbling at the sensitive skin near your neck and jaw and collarbone. “Come on, Plum,” he whispered. “Come on my fingers, sweet thing. I promise I’ll be so good to you.” His mouth was everywhere on you, and his hand — the one not inside you — was so sweet on your face and your hair.

“I’ll give you anything tonight, I swear, Plum. Anything you want, you’ll have it. It’s all yours,” he said, back to his chivalrous, servicing self. “You’re so beautiful, so precious, so lovely.” His nose was deep in your hair, inhaling you, the osmanthus and elderflower of your shampoo. “I never thought I would find something like you. You’re unbelievable.”

And there was so much pining, so much longing in his dark and shimmering eyes, that when you looked at him again, you crumbled, your legs giving out, and you were lucky his arms had you locked in his embrace: his left one holding your torso and head upright while his hand cradled your face; his right arm instead ran across your waist and navel, his fingers still deep inside you, and it was only thanks to his forearm that you didn’t melt to the floor. His hips were pinning you to the hard edge of the counter, and you knew it would feel tender later, maybe bruise even, but in the haze of your ecstasy you almost found it sexy.

“There you go, Plum,” he cooed at you, his smile all gentle and apprehensive. “That’s my good girl.”

Your head fell back on his shoulder and he kissed you on your lips, a polite little peck that made your stomach flutter.

He was strong, he was dependable and steady, responsible, and it came so easy to you to give up control and just let him take over.

You’d always been neurotic — is that the right word? — about sex. About letting yourself be vulnerable and weak and passive, but with him you just let yourself float to his current, and that was probably one of the best choices you’d ever made.

Your eyes opened and when you finally put him on focus, he gave you this dreamy little smile, and just then you realised how rare it is to see his face like that, up close, but also so serene. So… happy?

“Hello?” you said and he shook his head slowly, as if amused.

“Hello,” he answered.

And you both giggled. “Are we in trouble?” You asked.

“Not sure. But I’m sure you’re nothing but trouble to me.” He gave you a squeeze as you were still in his arms and you were about to frown, not sure how to interpret his sentence. “Despicable, unresistable trouble.” His hand was still inside you and you clenched a little, ready to take more. He inhaled sharply. “Sweet, lovely trouble.” His thumb skimmed your hipbone fondly.

You breathed out slowly, trying to steady yourself. “I guess we should go before we get into any more trouble than this.”

He froze for a second, then nodded and let go of you. “Sure. I’ll just clean you up.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I’ll take care of that.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, but he was staring at the floor, and he was covering himself, and you could tell you’d made a mistake somewhere.

“You sure you don’t mind?” you ask, and he stopped and looked at your reflection.

You were dishevelled and half naked, but he stared at your face like that was the only thing that mattered.

“Of course I don’t?” He said, but it came out almost as a question. He grabbed a towel and soaked it under the tap. “I don’t know the etiquette about this kind of situation,” he murmured while rubbing the towel gently against your glutes. “I’d like to think this would be the polite thing to do. Fix the mess I make.”

Is it just a matter of politeness? you asked yourself, eyes averted. “Sure,” you said and smiled, like it’s no big deal.

Navi: Part 1 – Part 2 — Part 3 – Part 4 - Part 5

Taglist: @blushingatyou @ladykadyrova @sweetjellyfishland @starxclouds @ayanyamnyam (taglist is open!)

#small town swoons #natural connection #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon au #namjoon x yn #namjoon x plum #houseofddaeng #52hertz #bangtansorciere #btswritersclub

60 notes · View notes

crookedkryptonitebeliever · 3 months

Text

Best and Worst of Both Worlds (Part 27)

Tw: religious mentions, short chapter

its mostly filler and like transition material, but only 2 of the options will introduce a new character which may or may not be relevant to the story

man what the hell am i talking about i barely follow my own rules, just chose what yall think best

VOTE BELOW FIRST 20 VOTES ONLY COUNT

Part 28

"Alright! Let's go!" Evangeline hooked her arms around yours and dragged you away. Montgomery had to catch up after you and her.

"Will you shut the hell up?" Montgomery hissed through his teeth.

"I'm just saying, (name) wouldn't have agreed with you saying 'Anita Bath' if you weren't stinky." She took another bite of her pepperoni pizza slice.

"Why are you friends with her?" Montgomery turned to you, exasperated and desperately wishing that you would send her away.

You shrugged and ate your slice. You were secretly grateful that Montgomery came by because you forgot to bring Yves's lunch again. If it wasn't for him, you would have starved until evening. Or you're forced to use your allowance from Yves and Montgomery to buy something- you'd rather save that money for something else.

Then something came to his mind. "Hey, goldie. Ya' said something happened between y'all and that freak this mornin'. What was that about?"

You tensed up, but Evangeline is as cheerful and calm as ever.

"Oh, he just wanted me to stay away from (name). That's all." You stared at her in disbelief. Why would she disclose that?

Montgomery furrowed his eyebrows. "Why?"

She tapped her chin and hummed. "I think he's jealous."

Montgomery scoffed in response. "Typical of those rich bastards. They'll try to isolate their victims so they ain't got no escape until they're done with them."

You felt like your eyes were about to pop out of your sockets when Evangeline nodded in agreement. Who's side is she on?

"And it's as if (name) would want a lil' stuck-up brat like you." Evangeline shot him a nasty look and placed her hands on her hips.

"Hey, that wasn't nice."

"Whatever, twerp." He dismissed her, taking another slice and handing it to you, seeing that you just finished your first one. You're too hungry to care what this gesture might mean, so you just take it off his hands.

"Stinky." She stuck her tongue out at him. Montgomery flipped her off.

This is... a very sibling-like dynamic you're witnessing. Although Montgomery outwardly dislikes her, you think that they're working together towards something. And it's making your gut instinct go haywire.

You wish Yves is here so badly. He knows what to do.

You turn your head to look at the lockers where your phone is charging.

While they were bickering, you stood up and went to check on your phone. You pressed the correct combination of numbers on the keypad and waited for the locker door to swing open. You unplugged your phone and prayed hard it was enough to turn it on.

A minute has passed and it still isn't turning on. You sighed, replacing the cord and allowing it to charge longer.

You returned to your seat, only to see Evangeline and Montgomery listening to a third person standing up next to them. They're holding a stack of papers, and your unwanted companions are holding a piece in their hands.

"Hi there." They greeted you. "I was talking to your friends about our club, here is a flyer with all our details. Feel free to contact us if you're interested."

You flip the glossy paper over, it says:

"Like to talk? Like to convince? Want to make friends? Join our debate club!"

The stranger showed you, Evangeline, and Montgomery where their phone numbers are located on the paper, the names of their social media pages, and meeting times. Which was apparently from 12pm to 5pm daily.

"Don't y'all have classes at these times?" Montgomery asked.

"Well, not all of us do. Anyone can feel free to come in or leave as they like. The session concludes at five in the evening, though."

All three of you gave them a response of acknowledgment.

"We hope to see new faces! I'll get going now, bye!" They walked away and began conversing with other people, promoting their club.

You stared at it. People were promoting their clubs last semester, but you never joined any of them. Maybe you should heed Yves's advice and put yourself out there so that you're not stuck with Evangeline, Montgomery, and Yves as your only friends.

"What do you think, (name)?" Evangeline asked you. "Are you going to join? I'll come with if you do."

You didn't respond verbally, but your body language should be expressing discomfort.

"Sweetheart, I think you're better off joinin' this." Montgomery took out a folded brochure from his pocket.

You tried your best to smoothen it, but it was crumpled beyond repair.

It seems to be a promotional medium for the university's youth group. Sponsored by the Catholic Church.

He wants you to join... a Christian club?

"Y'all should be findin' Jesus. You'll learn a thing or two about work-life balance from those bible studies."

You saw a mischievous glint in Evangeline's baby blues and you know that it's not going to end well.

"Wow, Monty! That's so Christian of you to harass (name), and give them gifts and food in exchange for something you want from them! Look! (Name) is already following in the steps of Christ. Like in 1 Peter, chapter 2, verse 20: When you do good and suffer for it you endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God. Great job taking his bullshit!" She clapped her hands and giggled madly.

Montgomery shook his head and looked at her with great incredulity. "What the hell are you even talkin' about?! Y'know what, I don't care. Run ya' mouth all you want."

He turned to you. "Trust me, if you wanna join a club, yer' better off joinin' this one." He rubbed your forearms in his hands.

"Didn't you say we're grown? (Name) can totally make their own decision on which club they want to join."

Montgomery narrowed his eyes at her but didn't say anything in retaliation for once.

"Which club will you be joining, (name)?"

#yandere male #yandere concept #yandere oc #yandere x you #oc yves #male yandere oc x reader #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere oc x reader #oc montgomery #oc evangeline

35 notes · View notes

cuckoo-on-a-string · 2 years

Text

Younger Gods: IV

Younger Gods Master List Dream x fem!reader

Chapter 3

Morpheus and Taliesin put their plan into action, and a storm god learns to dream.

Warnings: language, choking

A/N: First of all, this is BARELY edited, so I may come back and fix it later, but I wanted to get something posted tonight for personal reasons (that I'll discuss in a separate post). Secondly, you all continue to blow me away! I'm so happy to share this story with you, and I hope you enjoy as we slip into the next phase of the journey.

I definitely see/hear Taliesin as Michael Sheen, just in case you need a face.

The one-shot/new fic contest is complete, and the first will appear in the next few days. Super excited, so stay tuned for more details (and stories).

Chapter 4: This is an Intervention, Darling

She breathed in the endless dark, asleep but not dreaming.

Though it was kinder than the last visions she endured, it wasn’t pleasant. The hollow dark held her as she waited to wake, and the collar waited with her. Even in a space lacking all form, and barely aware as she was, the curse still whispered into place, chafing over old scars and biting into flesh gone soft. Once upon a time, she had callouses to protect the edge of her jaw, her chin, the tender places where neck and shoulder joined. But her dreaming self had no defenses, and she suffered fresh pains every time she surrendered consciousness.

She didn’t need the Nightmare King’s persecution to suffer.

Caught in the sticky dark of her subconscious, she had no idea of time. Maybe she rested a few minutes. Maybe days. The collar flexed, but it let her breathe when she kept still, and she had nothing to reach for.

It dawned on her – this might be the Nightmare King’s punishment. He’d promised kinder dreams, but she knew the shades of grey in every bargain, and this limbo fulfilled his words. With his sand locking her away from the waking world, he could leave her body to rot. She could die and stay trapped in his purgatory, wearing her collar forever.

She didn’t understand why, but her fear rushed to assure her the idea had weight. He didn’t need a good reason to punish her. Kings never needed a good reason, barely even an excuse.

The collar reacted, cinching tight until her breaths wheezed desperately through the empty nothing. Would it last forever? Would she fade alone? Could she suffer enough to satisfy them all – the dead fae king, the collar, the Endless?

If she’d learned anything, it was that she could always hurt just a little more.

“Oh, my little darling.”

The voice pressed through the shadowed fog like a touch, more sensation than sound. She felt the words and the warm voice behind them.

“How is she this far gone? Even if… she should still be eating, but she’s so thin.”

Her body gathered weight, remembered gravity, and a palm lined with musician’s callouses held her cheek. Smoke from a fire and rain on the window pulled her back to her senses, and she slowly blinked awake to find Taliesin’s bright, worried eyes anticipating her focus.

“There we are.” His thumb swept back and forth across her cheek, smoothing away the tears she’d shed in her sleep. A glittering rim of his own tears hung along his lashes, threatening to spill over, and she tried to reach out and comfort him.

But her arm was too heavy. She couldn’t move under the weight of familiar blankets piled over her.

She couldn’t even move her head, which felt impossibly dense, but she looked past her friend – to the fire she smelled and the rain she heard. She knew them. It was her cottage, the quiet home she’d abandoned after Dream’s shadow threatened to swallow her on the shores of the Dreaming.

“Home?”

“Yes.” Taliesin smiled. His voice trembled as he continued petting her, touching her like he could make everything better for everyone if he just kept holding her hand, stroking her cheek. “I used the key you gave me. You’re all safe and cwtched up on the couch. Everything’s going to be alright.”

But she’d been in the waking world. Hiding. And the Nightmare King had -

A sharp breath, she jerked the final inches to full consciousness, and jolted up. Fear made a potent stimulant.

And there he was, near the door, taller than the entrance, looking down on her with passive disdain that could flare into rage without warning.

Taliesin pushed her back down into the couch, pinning her into the cushions by the shoulders. Her hands flattened over his, trying to translate the threat with nothing but winded gasps and wide eyes. He shushed her, twisting his hands to hold hers once she stopped struggling. All the while, he kept murmuring assurances.

“He isn’t going to hurt you. No one’s going to hurt you. It’s safe. I’m here, and I won’t let anything happen. Can you hear me? Can you trust me?”

“I trust you,” she gasped. She didn’t necessarily believe him, but she trusted him.

“Good, good.” Stroking the sweaty hair off her face, he looked towards the Nightmare King. The back of the couch blocked him from view, but at Taliesin’s signal, he deigned to approach the fire.

As he stepped into the flickering light, his eyes fixed on her again, and Taliesin felt her quaking in his grip.

“He’s going to help.” Taliesin pet her hair faster, burning off nervous energy. “We’re going to get the collar off of you.”

It would be the perfect moment for the King of Dreams to contradict the bard, raise his hand, and end them both. To invite nightmares into her home or fill their lungs with his sand. But he did none of those things. When he understood she was watching for his reaction, he offered the faintest nod, something so shallow it could’ve been mistaken as a trick of the light by anyone watching less closely.

“Why?”

She couldn’t trust him until she understood his motives. Mortal, fae, or Endless, the desires of the powerful mattered most, and he wanted something to do with her, something that required keeping her alive.

She couldn’t understand what he wanted when he advanced on her in the apartment, why he forced her to relive the worst of her past. This sounded like an answer. Something she may even believe. He’d thanked her for returning Matthew, and she knew he didn’t like the collar. He’d said as much. Maybe she could finally breathe easy – while she was awake, at least – if he offered a path forward, a plan, some future with intent and goals clearly communicated and understood.

Taliesin knew the question wasn’t directed to him, and he kept his own counsel as the Nightmare King considered. But he listened very, very carefully.

Heavy drops struck the window, and the ceiling rumbled with the storm’s percussion. But the thunder remained distant, an echo of fears Taliesin soothed with hands and words and warm blankets. Dream of the Endless tilted his head, ever so slightly, listening to both woman and weather.

“The bard speaks truly.” His voice felt like the dark clouds heralding a storm. Ominous and heavy with promise, but soft. “I mean you no harm, and we have entered an agreement to end the curse’s hold over you in order to protect the Dreaming.”

Yes, she could understand. He didn’t hunt her anymore; he hunted the magic that had so insulted him. Her hand rose to her neck, happy to find a scarf, but well aware of the horrors beneath.

“Taliesin?”

“Yes.” He squeezed her hand with a watery smile. “I volunteered, and I’m staying to take care of you until this is over.” Fingers traced the back of her wrist, over the scarf. “Until you’re free.”

“Taliesin.”

“Yes?”

She felt so much, and she had nothing left to cope with the relief, which weighed even heavier than the fear. Her voice came soft and small, like the child he would always see in her. “I’m very tired.”

He laughed, and she could hear all the tears and snot he’d swallowed in his voice. “I know you are. Go to sleep. I’ll be right here.”

It felt like her mind was slowly turning into lead. Heavy and malleable, it dragged her down into a place where only dreams and a persistent curse could find her.

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

Taliesin watched her slip under, felt her hand go slack, and released a wavering sigh. How close did he come to losing her this time? Failing her? He couldn’t stomach the thought. Literally, his stomach turned and he swallowed down bile as he looked at his poor, starving rain cloud.

He sorted through his guilt with cautious hands, pulling up the blankets around her shoulders, ensuring the scarf wouldn’t strangle her if she turned – petting, and tutting, and generally making a fool of himself in front of the Dream Lord.

Well, let him look. This was his fault, too.

Matthew the raven spoke to him while his master followed Taliesin’s spell to the storm god’s hideaway. If Taliesin was a fool, he wasn’t the only one, and he at least had the good sense to acknowledge his mistakes. No wonder she’d fled. No wonder she’d snarled and clawed against sleep like her dreams were coming to kill her.

“Let her rest this time,” he said, eyes still on his friend.

“She is… weakened.”

It could almost be an admission of guilt, but only in the right context, only when held up to a waning moon in the first quarter on the seventh of June and tilted just so.

“She’s strong,” he corrected, finally looking over at the gaunt lord in the shadows. “Something is very wrong. The potion couldn’t have caused so much damage so quickly.”

Lord Morpheus straightened, and Taliesin was grateful he took the concern seriously. They’d need to trust each other to achieve their aims.

“You believe the collar is responsible.”

Even with the scarf, Taliesin could see the filigree edge of old scars above the fabric. Compared to the worst marks on her neck, they were nothing. He only noticed them because he knew where to look, what to look for, but his rain cloud couldn’t hide them all, no matter how hard she tried.

“I think it’s feeding on her.” He closed his eyes, giving his hope free reign to wrestle down his obvious faults. Punishing himself wouldn’t help his rain cloud, and she needed him. “I think it has been for a very long time.” He dropped his head. “And I didn’t even notice.”

What could she be, he wondered, without that curse? How far could she fly when a dead man’s will wasn’t choking the life from her?

The Dream Lord stepped closer, peering into the sleeping face of his raven’s savior. Taliesin couldn’t read the thoughts behind those star-bright eyes, but he practically heard them ticking over.

“If it can feast on the life of a demi-god,” he murmured, “it is indeed a threat to the Dreaming.”

“Glad to hear you’re invested in its destruction, then. So long as you’re equally invested in her preservation.”

“As I have said – ”

“You’ve made no promises and said precious little.” Taliesin stayed on his knees, embracing the position of a humble supplicant without surrendering to the king’s mercy entirely. Their tentative arrangement would only hold as long as they stayed honest. Forthright. No easy thing for a king. “You’re a monarch. I have served many, though few as seasoned as you. It is your right and your role to protect your domain, but I would remind you, Dream of the Endless, that whatever else my little storm cloud may be, she is a dreamer, and as such, she is under your protection.”

Lord Morpheus’s face shuttered, but not before a frown plucked his lips just a little lower and his brows pinched close.

Taliesin had given him something to ponder.

Finished with the king for the moment, the bard returned to his watch over the sleeping storm god, listening to the rhythm of rain on the window to ensure her dreams were easy. He had nowhere better to be, and nothing he’d rather do than keep her snug and comfortable in her world apart.

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

As the storm god slept, Dream wandered the library. His eyes raked the endless shelves, looking for nothing in particular, hoping for every answer to his half-formed questions. It was not a task with which Lucienne could assist, though he hoped she could aid the bard in his quest for understanding.

Taliesin would come to the Dreaming when the girl woke, after he’d gathered information to guide their research from her next dream. The man took his vigil seriously and wouldn’t leave her side while she rested, defenseless, even in her own little realm. The bard’s words had given him pause, and though Morpheus hadn’t intended to harm the man’s rain cloud, he did make a point. And he had more interest in her future than the bard knew.

Had they cleared the crossroads?

He doubted it. Perhaps he’d pulled her back to a shared path, but he did not know where it led, and she did not stand at the crossroads alone. Some great doom still lurked ahead, and it would benefit them all if the demi-god walking the road beside him didn’t flinch at his shadow.

Matthew flapped down the aisle, falling naturally into step with his master.

“How’s the storm god?” he asked. “You find her?”

“Found and retrieved.” His eye didn’t leave the books, though his mind continued wandering. “She is in her realm with the bard. Asleep. At last.”

Matthew croaked approvingly, hopping by Morpheus’s boots. “You talk? She get it? She not scared of you now?”

If only it were so easy. She was a broken thing. The bard’s panic told him more than the starved body in his arms or the snarling storm she’d called to frighten him away. He knew the way of damaged creatures, but in the Dreaming, he could fix them – imperfect nightmares, shattered dreams. He could chase away night terrors from overwrought sleepers and ease their rest.

He’d broken things as well. He’d become the night terror and twisted the petty minds of mortals until they warped and bent to new and terrible shapes. But in this case, he had not meant the hurt he inflicted, and he must fix it to fulfil his function.

“We spoke, but we will have to see if she has conquered her fear when she next dreams.”

Clinging to a shelf a few feet ahead, the bird angled his head, like he needed a thought to tumble into a better position before he could voice it.

“Do you… want… ideas?”

“For what, Matthew?”

The bird sighed, fluttering to his next perch as Dream strolled past him, determined in his pointless search.

“For, I don’t know, starting off on the right foot? Scaring her just a little less this time?”

“Her fear is her own challenge to overcome.”

“Sure. But what about something new? The bard said she doesn’t sleep much. Always has nightmares. I get you need to study the collar, but if you throw her off with some kind of distraction first, she may let you get close enough to – you know – do that.”

Morpheus raised an eyebrow, pausing to give the bird the attention he clearly craved. “A distraction?”

“Dreams get weird sometimes. If she’s trying to understand what she’s experiencing, she’ll have a lot less bandwidth for panic.”

“It is an idea,” he said. “Perhaps.” Continuing through the library, he wondered what could distract the desperate little storm god from her fear of him.

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

“Good morning.”

She woke again to Taliesin’s face, beaming without tears this time. He’d pulled up a chair beside the couch so he could keep hold of her hand without losing all feeling in his legs. An open book balanced on his knee, and a cup of tea sat on the end table at his elbow.

“Is it really morning?” The words felt gummy, and she licked her lips, cringing at the stale taste of a long sleep.

“It’s your world, so it’s any time you want it to be.”

The blankets held her down comfortably, and the couch felt better than she remembered. The beds in the hostels and bedsits must’ve been worse than she realized. Not that she used them often.

“How long was I asleep?”

Taliesin pursed his lips, glancing away to the naked beams along the ceiling, like he’d find a calendar there. “Three days, give or take.”

“Wow. Fuck.” She let go of his hand, bending up in an enormous stretch – fingers and toes splayed, every joint popping.

Taliesin patted her knee through the covers in time with his words. “You did very well, and I’m very proud of you.”

Frankly, she didn’t know what to do with his praise. Never had. She spent too long learning when one hand offered a gift, the other delivered a slap. Taliesin would never hurt her. She knew that. She held both truths in her heart, and they fought each other.

She kicked off the blankets to sit up and change the topic. But she moved too quickly, and her head spun.

“Steady.” Taliesin balanced her by the shoulders, waiting for her hand on his wrist – a gentle signal to let go. “You’ve slept, but now you need food.”

She wanted to argue purely for the sake of her dignity. He was in her home, and technically her guest, but he was bustling about, moving furniture, and fetching soup he’d made in a pot over the fire like their roles were reversed. But if sitting up made her dizzy, she didn’t want to guess how jumping to her feet would feel. He meant well. He was trustworthy. She’d settle for petulant glares.

When he returned with a bowl of broth and lifted the spoon for her, though, she drew the line.

“If you try to spoon-feed me, I will bite you.”

Taliesin grinned, returning the spoon to the bowl as ordered. “There’s my rain cloud.”

With a pillow in her lap to support the bowl, she managed to feed herself perfectly well. Taliesin hovered, ready to intervene if the bowl shifted to an angle he didn’t like, but she didn’t spill it, and she returned the empty crockery with entirely too much pride.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For?” The high, drawn-out word demanded more.

“The soup.”

“And?” He used the same tone. Now that she was fed and rested, he’d be taking his pound of flesh from her hide.

She ducked her head, muttering at her knees as she traces vague shapes in the pillow over her lap.

“Oh, you can do better than that.” He took a seat beside her on the couch, warm and solid but demanding, too.

“I should’ve… let you know…”

“That you were on the run from Lord Morpheus? That you were letting the potion kill you? That you only slept once in the three months prior to our meeting? Why, yes! You should have.”

“Sorry.” And she was sorry that she worried him, that he had to get involved. She was grateful to be breathing, too. But she couldn’t muster the right attitude to really apologize for it all. She had too much respect for her sense of self-preservation. It had kept her alive too many times before.

Taliesin shifted closer, so their shoulders pressed together, and took her hands to hold between his roughened palms. “I’m not blaming you. He’s terrifying. I am stopping you. This is an intervention, darling. You are very trustworthy with other people. You are not so trustworthy when it comes to your own needs.”

This time, she prepared to argue. She even opened her mouth. But Taliesin just lifted his eyebrows and her valiant defense of her questionable life choices evaporated. Instead, she cleared her throat, breaking eye contact like a coward. He won the round. He won the war, really.

That was okay.

No storm raged. Precious little rain fell. Only the rare tear of condensation rolled down the windowpanes, and the precipitation was easiest to see in the puddles, where tiny drops echoed out in perfect circles over the gray sky’s reflection.

She did eventually manage to stand without help, and Taliesin let her clean herself up in the cottage’s little bathroom after her three-day nap. But after that, she had to sit again. He brought more soup, and she slowly finished the second bowl, stomach uncomfortably full. It was like a stiff muscle, he explained, and she’d only reclaim full function if she was willing to suffer a little. The vague ache didn’t even count as suffering, as far as she was concerned.

Eventually, the hazy grey sky turned orange and red. Her pocket world had no cardinal directions, and the colors ringed the horizon. They watched the blue evening creep in together, tea in hand, until she felt drowsy again. When Taliesin ushered her back to the couch, she groused, “I just woke up.”

“You’re healing.”

He didn’t go back to his chair, but sat at the far end of the couch, settling pillows along his knees and hip. She wondered – with a frisson of fear up her spine – what horrible thing he thought she would need so much comfort over. But she’d missed touch, and warmth, and comfort from someone else’s arms, so she curled up with her head on his lap anyway.

As he arranged the blanket to better cover her shoulders, he said, “Lord Morpheus will meet you in your dreams this time.”

She froze, and his hand wandered up to her hair, keeping contact as he reminded her by touch of his presence. He was her sentry, a guard against anything and everything if she’d let him.

“None of us understands why the collar manifests in the Dreaming,” he continued, “but he wants it gone, and that’s good for us. For you. To be painfully blunt, he could kill you in the waking world and never worry about the damn thing slipping into your dreams ever again, but he hasn’t, and that tells me we can trust him.”

He gave her time to process, but he didn’t allow time to spiral back into mindless fear. “Do you trust my judgement, rain cloud?”

She shifted, trying to find a position that would force her heart to slow down. “Yeah.”

“I’m glad. All you have to do is sleep.”

“What if he takes me back to the grove?” Her face felt hot, and her voice sounded wet. In another minute she’d be crying into the pillow. “I can’t go through that again.”

His hand froze for a moment, but he recovered quickly, brushing away her anxieties with a level head and steady tone. “He won’t. He didn’t find what he needed there. But if he tries, tell him no.”

Snorting, she rolled over to hide her face in the back of the couch. “Like that would stop him.”

“It had better.”

Iron underlined those words, and that was the most comforting thing she’d heard all day. Taliesin would go to war over her, would face up against an Endless to keep her sane. If Taliesin wasn’t afraid of a fight, then she had nothing to worry about.

“Okay.”

He hummed. “Okay.”

After the jolt of adrenaline he’d caused, it took a while to drift off. She stared into the fire until the wavering flames hypnotized her, listening to Taliesin’s old Welsh lullabies as she tried to find her way to the gentle, heavy feeling that marked the gates of sleep. Every time she came close, the path veered, and she found herself staring into the flames again, twitching towards consciousness and Taliesin’s voice.

But, eventually, guided by fatigue, she drifted away from the warm cottage and the careful hand. The collar grew into place, and she slipped into a waiting dream.

A quarter moon peeped between the trees. The nocturnal forest shone bright as day to her sensitive eyes, and she stretched to feel her claws sink into the loam. Grey paws all but disappeared into the shadows, and her ears perked at the susurrus of wind and small animals creeping through the leaves. She’d been still for too long – in all shapes – and she pounced after the first dry leaf to tumble past. It crunched beneath her with a smell like the sleeping death of late autumn, and she lunged after another and another, batting them with abandon until a soft, red maple leaf caught on her claws.

She shook and shook her paw, but the damn thing wouldn’t come free until she ripped it away with her teeth in frustration. It did not taste as good as it smelled, and she sat up, licking her whiskers to chase away the flavor of tree.

A rumble from above startled her sideways, and she leapt on all four paws away from the sound.

Looking up, she saw an enormous cat resting in an oak with eyes brighter than the moon watching her. His gaze struck her like a car’s headlights, and she froze, the hair on her back pricking up in alarm.

“You make a clumsy cat.”

She knew the voice and the presence. When the King of Dreams leapt down from his tree, she recoiled. Her own short hiss startled her, and she cut it off with choked sound of confusion. She was a grey barn cat, and that made sense, but she was a demi-god asleep on the couch, too. As she worked through her confusion, the great cat came a step closer. She forced herself still, remembering Taliesin was with her, even if she couldn’t sense him, that he’d keep her safe and fight an Endless if he pulled the same stunt twice.

She sat, though the raised hair along her back wouldn’t fall flat again.

The Dream Lord mirrored her, peering literally down his nose, and she could tell without words that her hiss had displeased him.

At least she hadn’t run.

Yet.

“You know me, little dreamer.”

Her tail curled around her feet. “Yes.”

“And you know yourself.”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

She could hear he meant it in the bright note folded around the word, and she imagined his regular shape may even have smiled. But only a little.

He rose and turned, walking into the woods. She followed the implicit command and pattered after him, keeping low, wary of his big paws and glinting claws. Tree frogs sang around them, filling the silence with a throbbing drone. For a little while, he let her trail behind him, but when they reached a clearing, he looked back for her.

“Walk beside me,” he said. “I would speak with you.”

She moved lightly through the long grass, all silvery under the moon, and wondered that the Dream Lord’s eyes didn’t cast shadows in the dark. His strides covered much more ground than her little legs could match, and she trotted to keep up with his sedate pace. Though he towered over the weeds, they swallowed her entirely, and even though she drew even with him, she couldn’t bring herself to draw any closer to his side.

He stopped, looking out over the grass with another rumble. “Are you hiding? Shall I hunt you again, little dreamer?”

The bright note hung in his voice, but even if he was teasing, any idea of the great cat with glowing eyes springing down with claws out terrified her.

“No! No.” She slunk closer, sharing the narrow track he followed, ears pressed back, belly nearly scraping the ground. “I’m right here.”

His long tail swished behind him as he studied her, unmoving. “Do you still believe I wish to harm you?”

“I don’t pretend to know what measureless depths of pain the Endless can endure,” she said, “but if you pull me back through all that one more time, I don’t think I’d survive it.”

One mighty step closer, and she dropped flat. Even though those luminous eyes had already fixed on her, every instinct insisted she make herself smaller.

He responded by lying down, literally sinking to her level.

“I find it interesting,” he said. “You do not perceive yourself as others do.”

What did that mean? She relaxed enough to lift her head, curious. “Who?”

“Your friend Taliesin dreamed of you as a kitten. A playful little thing he tried to coax out from under the steps.”

She looked at her paws again, sinking her claws into the earth just to watch them curl out from the pads. “And this is how you see me?”

“No. This is how you’ve dreamed yourself.”

Could that be right? That couldn’t be right. She’d never seen or felt things like this when she slept before. Even when the Sandman kept the nightmares back, she rested in darkness.

“But – I don’t think I know how to – dream, I mean.”

“This is a shape I chose,” he agreed. “But once I’d drawn the shape of the dream, your own mind added the details, including your vision of yourself.”

“Oh.” She relaxed a little more, dropping her chin to her paws as she watched a firefly blink above the long grass. The frogs weren’t so loud, away from the trees, and when her ears twitched around, she was sure she could hear running water. A stream. She might even smell it. “I’ve never… dreamed like this before.”

“I know.”

Slowly, telegraphing every motion, he climbed to his feet. She stood with him, calm again and ready to continue.

“There is something I would like to try.” He turned back to the path. “Follow me.”

Instead of sauntering along like before, he bounded across the meadow, and she nearly lost sight of him before she jerked into motion.

He was right. She was a clumsy cat. Clumsy and small, but she did her best. Springing over hidden logs, pouncing up to see over the grass when he drew too far ahead, winding along the shortest routes to catch up again.

The sound of water drew nearer, and she saw the edge of the meadow, where the water had worn it into a little cliff. The Dream Lord cleared it easily, leaping over the chasm without pause. She, however, had spent most of her energy over the wide meadow, taking half a dozen steps for every one of his, and she hesitated at the brink. But she couldn’t stop herself, and she threw all of her strength into her hind legs as she left the ground.

The golden collar around her neck squeezed. She flinched midair and knew she would fall short of her goal. One paw caught the bank, scratching deep into grass and loose rock that wouldn’t hold. She slipped back, heading towards waters roaring more like a raging river than a gentle stream.

And then she wasn’t falling. Teeth gently pinched the back of her neck, just below the collar. They lifted her up and away from the danger. As she dangled from the king’s mouth, he moved a few dozen yards back from the crumbling bank. Frozen, she only squeaked when he finally set her down again.

She hunkered in a cat loaf, too embarrassed to look up at him. “Sorry. I just got tired, and then the collar – ”

“Tired? In a dream?”

She blinked, at once both human and cat – and terribly confused. “Is that not supposed to happen? Don’t people rest in dreams?”

“No. Not like this.” He hadn’t backed away after he released her, and she’d been too shaken to put space between them. Coming even closer, he looked at her neck. “Taliesin told me a theory.”

He hadn’t shared it with her before she went to sleep. It must be bad, then. “What theory?”

The King of Dreams settled back on his haunches. He looked regal. Severe. “He believes it is feeding off of you. I think I agree with him.”

The collar squeezed again, like it could hear them, and she tried to paw it off without thinking. Its revenge was swift. Brutal. Thorns pierced her fur as it pulled even tighter, strangling and bleeding her as payment for her offense.

Actual animal sounds of distress peeled through the twilight dream world, and she rolled through the weeds as she struggled to free herself, to stop the pain, to breathe properly. It was a good thing they’d moved so far from the water or she’d have tumbled in.

A rumble very different from the others – more growl than purr – thundered above her, and a massive paw settled on her ribs to force her still. She could barely keep her eyes open, and she looked frantically into the patient light of the Dream King’s gaze.

“I promised you kinder dreams, little storm god. But I’m afraid this dream is over.”

A blink, and the golden eyes disappeared.

She woke in the grey pre-dawn, the fire burned to embers, Taliesin snoring with his head thrown back on the couch.

Safe. Whole.

Just as they’d promised.

Chapter 5

#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream x reader #the sandman #sandman x reader #sandman fanfiction #Younger Gods #youngergods

981 notes · View notes

eepyuii · 3 months

Text

frostbite — pt. 8

pairing ; childe x gender neutral! reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; none

notes ; listen guys. i can explain. rly tho, i’ve been horribly busy with school stuff and for a long time i wasn’t rly inspired to write but i got SOME free time now and managed to finish this bad boy up!

sadly, kind of a boring chapter imo, just a LOT of continuing childe’s story quest. i’ve mentioned a bunch of times before how i hate writing by the quest dialogue and how tedious it is and i believe that’s partially why i couldn’t continue writing for a bit. anyway, i promise i’ll try to get the next chapter out sooner as next chapter WILL have some things i’m looking forward to writing LOL

previous | next | masterlist

the bright high noon sun shines against the blades of grass in the hills of qingxu pool, making the greenery seem like shards of vibrant emerald. the very same sun, unfortunately, nearly causes you to melt right then and there- with impossible steep peaks to cross and a whole child in your arms to carry. teucer had fallen asleep in your arms somewhere along the trip and he still snores soundly as you round up to the location childe had referred to earlier and where you immediately spot him, as well as some other men.

“found him! there’s childe!” paimon exclaims as she floats on ahead, effectively waking up teucer at the mention. he tries to move around and gather in his surroundings within your hold, sleepy eyes adjusting to the light once more.

as you get closer to the group, you find that the men childe is speaking to are… treasure hoarders. and it certainly didn’t look like the friendliest of exchanges, some kind debt collecting that lunatic does. you hear half of a taunt coming from childe when you approach earshot.

“…i suppose i should forgive you country bumpkins for your ignorance, for i am-“

“brother!” teucer yells excitedly and the harbinger freezes in his tracks the next second.

“you’re selling them toys, aren’t you, brother? that’s so cool, i’ve always wanted to watch you work!”

childe stammers. “w-why yes, of course! for i am, uh…

…the greatest toy salesman in snezhnaya!”

oh, for the tsaritsa’s sake. this time, you truly cannot fight the involuntary reaction within your muscles to facepalm at his half-assed save, if you can even call it that. though, what makes it worse is when he raises his fists triumphantly, clapping as if there was nothing wrong with what he said.

“so cool!”

“…huh?” says one of the treasure hoarders.

“you playin’ games, pretty boy?” goes another and you snort at the nickname.

“so, will you buy, or not? the toys that snezhnaya produced three months ago will run you.. yes, six hundred thousand mora- to be paid in full.”

another treasure hoarder chokes on his breath. “t-toys..? a-and how much mora…?”

“wow, is that what it’s gonna cost to fix that head of yours?”

the three hoarders bark out in mocking laughter. childe doesn’t seem to be dissuaded in the slightest, in fact his eyes drop into a lethally serious glare.

“i’ll say it again- toys from snezhnaya. three months prior. six hundred thousand mora. paid in full.”

“yeah… no, sorry, salesboy. the same joke isn’t funny twice. or were you always cruisin’ for a bruisin’?”

the harbinger sighs. “alright then, i’ll make things a little easier for you- i’ll join the treasure hoarders. perhaps you’ll be more willing to pay when we’re brothers-in-arms?”

you frown, slightly skeptical of childe’s methods of negotiation. however, you know better than anyone that childe, for all that he seems, is not an idiot. he’s just as aware of the means as he is of the ends and he wouldn’t be making statements like those with such certainty for nothing.

“hah- would you listen t’yourself?! you think we just let any old person into the treasure hoarders? i’m not so sure you could hack it…”

“heh, well then, why don’t you put me to the test, dear seniors? i like to think of myself as quite talented in the field of treasure hunting.”

“hmm.. looks like you’re not gonna pack it up until someone packs you in. alright then, show us what you got.”

the leading treasure hoarder proceeds with the proposition of a challenge where childe would have to collect some loot on a nearby hill within a time limit set by them. while you could see the hill from where you were, it was impossibly far to reach on foot in such a short amount of time. a tinge of worry creeps into the back of your neck and you shoot childe a concerned look, which he receives like he’s perfectly understood your silent doubts.

in return, he only cheekily winks to you and takes off.

he expertly uses the powerful gusts of wind shooting nearby to cut the path toward the hill in short and before you can even think of keeping track of his movements, he’s back with a small chest in hand- nonchalantly brushing dust off his uniform.

“well, i have the goods, here you go. so how’d i do? pretty well, i’d say.” childe smirks.

one of the other treasure hoarders starts sweating and whispers worryingly over to his fellow bandit. the leader turns back to childe, somewhat containing his shock.

“please… hold on a moment, sir. we need to discuss something amongst ourselves.”

the three turn to a small circle, where they mutter back and forth to each other, unintelligibly to you. periodically, one of the hoarders throws childe a quick, fearful look to ensure that he’s not becoming impatient- lest something freakier than his show of inhuman speed happens. finally, the leader turns back.

“so, mister.. salesman. my apologies but we can’t have you joining us.”

“oh? i didn’t pass? i must say i never imagined that the treasure hoarders would have such strict entry requirements…” childe replies unimpressed.

“no, i-it’s not that- ..what we mean is you’re too big a fish for our little pond. but we fully understand the situation with the uh… toys, sir. we’ll fetch that six hundred thousand mora for you right away.”

you scoff, shaking your head incredulously at how… somehow childe managed to get his way with such a ridiculous front to impress his brother. teucer, on the other hand, could not be happier with the outcome.

“that’s my brother for you! toy sellers are so cool!”

some rustling of grass from behind you grabs your attention and you instinctively tense your shoulders, hand ready and reaching out towards teucer if you had to protect him from an unexpected ambush by the sour treasure hoarders. fortunately, the arriving individual turns out to be a familiar fatui employee, felix. he recognizes your presence with a curt bow-like gesture before directing himself towards the harbinger.

“ah, master childe, you’re here. a new batch of fresh recruits have just-“

“hey now, keep your voice down. can’t you see i’m entertaining some clients over here?”

“clients? well uh… the motherland has dispatched a new batch of recruits to liyue. they’ve just arrived and i’m afraid we must ask you to speak to them.”

“ugh, do i have to? now is hardly the best time…”

you decide to interject with a suggestion. “couldn’t signora give them the initiation? she’s also an acting superior here in liyue.”

felix shakes his head. “i’m afraid the fair lady has already returned to the palace to attend to other affairs.”

dammit, you really couldn’t keep track of that woman. both you and childe seem to simultaneously deflate slightly at the news, as if you’d both imagined at the same time how hard it’d be to keep teucer satisfied and ignorant towards the truth with so many predicaments.

“i truly must apologize for troubling you, master childe, but they are already waiting for you south of lingju pass. every new batch of recruits must be baptized by the tsaritsa’s will through the words of her harbingers. this has always been our rule.”

childe groans and rolls his eyes petulantly.

“well, alright then, i’ll go. just give me a moment to catch up with my brother and i’ll be right with you.”

“do you have to keep working?” teucer finally speaks up, with his saddened tone from earlier returning.

“yes teucer, we have a group of new toy sellers fresh from the motherland and i need to go teach them the ropes.”

“that’s great! when i grow up, i wanna be a toy seller too. can i go listen?”

you stammer to answer quickly. “ah- maybe not now, teuce’. you’re still a little too young for that, bud.”

childe nods in agreement. “besides, most of it is rather boring. why don’t you go play with y/n and the traveler instead? sound good?”

teucer shoots out the most impossibly heart wrenching combo of big eyes and a pout towards his brother. “b-but.. but…”

“i really do have to go, teucer. a lot of people are waiting to see me. i’ll see you around, alright?”

the boy sighs melancholically and for a moment you do understand his side of the situation, but again you’re reminded of the harsh reality of the fatui and how hard it must be, no- how hard it has been to keep such a young, adventurous kid oblivious to all of it. it truly has not been easy for childe for his little brother to show up so absurdly unannounced.

the traveler and paimon are a few feet away, whispering to each other while teucer still sulks, and you catch a bit of their conversation.

“to think he’d go this far just to prevent his family from seeing his… dark side.”

“i wonder how much longer he can hide it from teucer…” the traveler responds.

“paimon wonders too. but hey, let’s at least help him

out while we’re out in liyue…

wait- where’s teucer?”

panic shoots up your spine chillingly and you turn around to where he just was, to find nothing. the few seconds you’d kept your eye off him he disappears. you scan the grasslands for teucer almost involuntarily, but no sign of him at all.

“ugh.. we were too busy chatting! where’d he go?”

you sigh frustratedly and stomp down the hill, eyes still vigilant. “dammit, i shouldn’t have taken my eyes off of him while he was still upset. not even for one second… of course he’s going after childe.”

—

“…from this day forward, you will honor the oaths you have made to her majesty the tsaritsa and you will stop at nothing to bring snezhnaya victory.”

you can still taste the very same oath you swore years ago on your tongue. you still remember how tense your shoulders stayed and shaky the fist held to your heart was, how harsh and vile the words of the fatui initiation sounded coming out of dottore’s mouth. and now, they sound just as sharp coming from childe- you find that it gives you an unpleasant feeling in your chest.

teucer and childe, and consequently the new recruits, were not at all hard to find. you approach the gathering to see teucer propped up on a nearby rock, head held in his hands as he attentively watched the ceremony. you truly wish you’d kept your eye on teucer before and stopped him from coming here. it’s hard to be reminded of childe’s cold and devoted demeanor when it came to the tsaritsa- though, cold and devoted is what you could call any of her followers.

for some reason, the occasion causes you to pause and watch a bit of the procedure yourself, but you don’t focus on how intense the harbinger’s words are, nor on how the recruits react to it. no, instead you focus on childe’s scars.

they’re so evenly distributed throughout his body, or at least what you can see of it, that it almost seems intentional. at any other time, you would’ve thought them to be artistic and beautif- but err, uhm… but now they only look like glaring reminders of childe’s nature as the tsaritsa’s weapon of war. you’ve always thought that was a baffling title to have.

you notice teucer stand up to wave to his brother in the distance.

“…for the trials that we face are harsh, and the enemies are like- ..ehm,”

childe also looks over to where you were at that very second, catching onto teucer’s excited movements. his eyes asses your group, then they trail over to you and the seconds where your eyes meet seems to last longer than it should- there’s a shocked shift in his gaze and it’s then that you realize you’d been frowning this whole time. the harbinger then regards his brother’s presence and he stutters on his sentence.

“a-ahem, like… kites a-and rattle drums.. who shall become redoubtable foes of mr. cyclops in the marketplaces of liyue..!”

you hear teucer approve of his message right next to you, although the recruits don’t seem entirely sold.

“this is, of course, an analogy. as they say, ‘the marketplace, too, is a battlefield.’”

nobody says that.

“so, as your… sales manager here in liyue, i demand that you obey my every order! a refusal shall be considered a betrayal, and the price for betrayal is to be dishonorably discharged from.. a-ahem, the institute of toy research.”

this time, he can’t stupidly get away with this, as both teucer and the recruits seem queasy about the statement- much to childe’s dismay. he looks down for a moment as if to consider his options and shoots up again.

“eh.. uh… forget it! perhaps a round of hands-on training will suit us better!”

just how in teyvat is this guy your superior?

as if everything could not become any more absurd, childe’s proposal seemed to utterly please the new recruits- they whisper and rave to each other about the huge honor that it would be to fight with the eleventh harbinger. you could see the duels’ ends before they even began, with all of these poor newbies licking the dirt as they’re kicked into ground by childe with minimal effort.

just as expected, it’s over rather quickly- though the recruits do hold up their own for longer than you anticipated against someone like childe.

“well then, do you all understand what i said earlier?” childe interrogates with nonchalant confidence, as if he wasn’t slipping up and stumbling on his own words earlier.

“yes, sir!” the recruits heave out exhaustedly.

“excellent, and you all almost managed to get me limbered up. in other words, you’ve done well- for new recruits.”

“thank you, lord harbinger!”

childe gives the recruits some more encouragement before dismissing them as soon as possible. once they take off, teucer takes the opportunity to run up and tell his brother how amazing he was just then.

“teucer- what in the world are you doing here? there i was thinking that these three had taken you to play at wangshu inn, aha!” childe says, the latter sentence is pointed, much like his subtle glare up at the three of you.

“you really did get stronger.” the traveler admits with dignity and childe’s ego, as if it hadn’t been inflated enough by the drooling recruits just now, seems to swell.

“hah, i told you, didn’t it? i never pass on an opportunity to improve my strength. i’m not the

man i was when we first met.”

“you didn’t go all out, though.” she teases.

“by that, i assume you mean i didn’t use foul legacy transformation, yes?”

“it puts a great strain on my body, so it’s best saved for crucial moments.”

your eyes lower into a warning glare, thought playful one. “as if i’d ever let you use it in a situation like this.”

childe laughs with his full chest, amused at your quip.

“ahaha! yes, that much is true. if it hadn’t been for y/n’s medical prowess, i’d still be ways in recovery from the injuries i sustained back at the golden house. and they wouldn’t be a very good medic if they just let me slow down my own healing process, now, would they?”

you two share a knowing look and you give him an approving nod- and as everyone follows suit to look over to you, you fold your arms and pose out proudly, fully drinking up the praise towards your skill.

“anyway, i’m no signora. i don’t use lethal force against recruits, come on now…”

teucer scratches his chin in confusion. “the foul legacy transformation? does it make you stronger than mr. cyclops?”

“ahah… you could say that.” paimon laughs awkwardly.

“i wanna learn how to fight too! i wanna be cool like you!”

“now teucer, fighting isn’t about looking cool. you can only continue to get stronger if you know the reason why you’re fighting.” childe gestures to his younger brother in a lecturing manner.

“i can teach you. but think carefully first- why do you want to fight?”

“i…”

“hm?”

“..i want to protect sister tonia.”

the breath is taken from your chest for a moment. you don’t know what exactly you were expecting teucer’s answer to be but it was certainly not that. it’s so noble and honest and so… ajax, in a sense. you can’t describe what it is, but it sends you back to the times where you and ajax would have late-night deep talks inside pillow forts, whenever he slept over at your house. you’d deliberate about your lives and ambitions and you’d hear ajax express how much he aspired to become like the heroes in his father’s tales. courageous and selfless, so he could brace his fears and protect his loved ones. it’s uncertain if childe recalls the same memory as you, but he’s just as visibly pleased with teucer’s answer.

he pats the younger boy on the top of his head tenderly. “that’s a good answer teucer. when i return to snezhnaya, i will start teaching you fighting techniques.

then, you’ll have to protect tonia for me- how does that sound?”

“hehe, leave it to me!”

“you’ve had a nice long time here in liyue, haven’t you? isn’t it about time you took the boat back home?”

teucer pouts. “but, but… but you’ve been so busy, and we didn’t get any time to play together yet..”

“teucer, you know i’m very busy at work.. and hasn’t it been fun traveling all over the place with y/n and two proper travelers?”

you can tell childe feels like he hasn’t spent enough time with his brother either, but his worry about keeping up the toy seller appearance to protect teucer overcomes him. today has been nothing but close calls for him.

“w-well, how ‘bout this? if you just do one little thing for me, i’ll be a good boy and go back home!”

“oh dear, who taught this little devil to bargain.. alright, what’ll it be?” childe chuckles.

“take me to visit the institute of toy research!”

what? surely he doesn’t mean the research lab… once again, childe seems to have the same thought as you and you take the opportunity to throw him an incredulous, threatening look- as if to tell him ‘this might be your most gods awful idea yet if you take him there..’, but seemingly to no avail.

“done deal. after all, you’ve come all this way for me, teucer…”

childe persuades the traveler and paimon into taking teucer back to the facility at lingju pass and they take off soon after. you decide to stay behind and hopefully steer the harbinger away from the idea and he only faces you in waiting, like he already expects you to reprimand him. you cross your arms disappointedly and sigh.

“you know what i’m about to say to you, right?”

“hm, i might have an idea or two but just-“

“childe, that’s not just some abandoned facility for tourists to frolic inside- it’s dottore’s research lab and it’s active! if the machines inside that place don’t crush us all the second we walk inside, then surely my boss will do worse to us if we put anything out of place. i mean, this whole ordeal started because i had to go regulate the lab, then we found teucer and had to take him elsewhere so nothing bad would happen, who in their right mind-“

two strong, gloved hands come up to hold either side of your face.

the touch is somehow firm enough to effectively shut you up and hold up your head as to fully face childe, but still gentle enough as to not hurt or startle you. the committer of the act stares you right in the eyes, a doting look is apparent on his own azure gaze.

“y/n. answer this simply, do you trust me?”

there’s a pause as you process the development of the literal last 3 seconds and think of an answer- though the distracting, fluttering sensation in your chest also factors in the time you take to actually speak.

“w-well, it’s- it’s not about trusting you or-“

“do. you. trust. me?”

another pause. you look into his eyes as deep as you can and search for anything that says that maybe there’s an off-chance you shouldn’t trust him, but there’s nothing. he’s shown himself more than capable of steering situations back in his control today and it doesn’t need to be spoken how serious he is about protecting his family, even a scratch on teucer’s cheek would be a last case scenario to him. you sigh.

“i trust you, ajax.”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

44 notes · View notes

haikyuufanficwriting · 3 months

Text

Chapter 12: Terushima

Prompt: Reader pressing their forehead against Character's forehead to check if they have a fever Character: Terushima _________________

When you had decided to be the next manager for the Johzenji Boys Volleyball Team, you distinctly remembering being warned. In fact, the reason you remember so clearly is because of how ludicrous you remember it sounding.

“These boys are a handful, you know. They’re bound to give you troubles and endless headaches. But they’re worth it if you put in the effort. Do you think you have what it takes?”

The question that was posed by the, at the time, third year and current manager, Hana Misaki. And though you had the urge to roll your eyes and snort, the look on her face seemed infinitely serious. Her eyes bore into your soul, and you couldn’t form the strength to look away. It was almost as if she was sizing you up, trying to deem you worthy of such a treacherous feat. Yet still, instead of taking it as a sign that maybe you should find another extracurricular activity to get your parents off your back, in your second-year naivety and rebellious nature, you assured Misaki that you could indeed handle it, and to ‘leave it to me’ as she gave you a doubtful yet hopeful gaze.

In your current position now, you could easily say that she was with full certainty trying to warn you.

Because while they did grow and learn from the absolute beating of the preliminaries last year, it didn’t change the nature of the team. They were still childish, which was only cute to a point, and still completely dependent on your leadership. The constant reminders to not fool around, to clean up after them, and the countless variations of ‘No Terushima, that’s not physically possible, put Futamata down.’

But on the other hand, you still don’t regret joining the team. Watching them evolve has definitely been the highlight of your final year in high school, and whether you wanted to or not, you’ve grown to care for the whole team.

Right now, however, the care has seemed to dissipate for one particular member.

“Where the hell is Terushima?” You mutter to yourself, glancing at the clock, then to Runa to which she gives a nimble shrug. Fifteen minutes had passed since the start of practice, and you were all currently waiting on the man of the hour, the captain. You let out a sigh of frustration as the grip on your pencil gets tighter.

“Okay,” You start, causing all the attention to go on you. “Anyone know where Terushima might be?” You get a bout of silence, before some shakes of the head and some shrugs. You turn to the other two main culprits, and your fellow third-years, Futamata and Okudake, for them to only look at you with just as much confusion as the rest.

“Last I saw Yuuji was before last period. Haven’t seen him since.” Okudake recounts a similar story, and you have to close your eyes for the wave of fury to subside.

“Alright, then. Guess I’ll have to go look for him and drag his ass back here. The idiot was probably after some girl and lost track of time.” You utter the last bit to yourself in distaste. While he was recently on the high of wanting to do well in the preliminaries, he never really could shake that fuckboy mentality of his. “The coach is going to be here in about 20 minutes, so I’ll try to find him before he loses it. I know he’s usually in charge of the drills, so Okudake, you’ll cover them for now. Remember the preliminaries are coming up; this is the chance to redeem yourselves. Don’t mess around. Runa, you’re in charge till I get back.” You delegate as they all nod, showing their understanding. You take another deep breath, before putting your notebook aside and walking out of the gym frustrated at the extra task you sure as hell didn't sign up for, leaving the boys to themselves.

“He’s gonna be the death of her.” Okudake chuckles.

“Nah. She’ll probably kill him first.” Futamata states before picking up a ball.

You can’t seem to stop muttering curses at the existence of Terushima Yuuji, all the while scouring the halls at all the usual spots he goes to either pick up girls or skip class. In the year you’ve been manager you’ve come to learn a lot about Terushima, albeit unwillingly, though it does come to help at times like these.

However, he wasn’t in any of them. Which was a little more than odd. Because with the multiple occurrences in which he has lost track of time, he was always in one of the untracked corners of the school. Could he have really gone home?

Now more than outraged, you slam the door of the staircase open to return to the gym, no longer caring if the coach chews him out, when you swear you hear the weakest utterance of your name. You pause. What the hell?

“[Name]? Is that you?” You recognized the voice instantly, but it was so much weaker, so much more lifeless than any time you’ve heard him speak. You were instantly worried. You ran up the stairs to find the one and only, Terushima, sitting on the stairs and the worst shade of green you’ve ever seen on a person. You have to forcibly hold in a gasp.

“Terushima? What in the hell are you doing here?” You can see the amount of effort it takes for him to lift his head. Eye bags prominent, sweat adorning his forehead.

He looked like death personified.

“I’m going to practice. I just needed a little break.” The sentences seemed to be too much for his lungs to take, because he immediately had a coughing fit afterwards, and you flinch with every sound that leaves his throat. It was not pretty.

But you couldn’t focus too much on that.

“What do you mean ‘going to practice’? You look like you’re dying! You’re clearly sick. You need to go home!”

“The preliminaries are coming up again. I need to practice.”

“The hell you are!”

“It’s not that bad-“

His raspy voice is cut off, by your grabbing of his head. He doesn’t have any time to process anything before you bring your face to his. Your cheek touches his moist forehead, to be met with a sudden burning sensation.

Just as you suspected. Fever. And a high one with that.

“Idiot. You’re burning up; and if you had any sort of brain that wasn’t already mushed up by the fever, you’d know that you wouldn’t even be able to do much.” Your voice has turned soft, and for some reason you still haven’t released his head. Perhaps it was this gentle attitude that causes him to lay his head into your hands, or the fatigue or the illness that was eating him upside.

Regardless, it causes your own face to heat up. You clear your throat.

“Okay, you need to get up. We can go to the nurse, and they can call your parents.”

“They’re away. Trip.” His eyes are barely open at this point. Once given the opportunity to rest, he couldn’t get up. His whole body was shutting down. You tsked at the unfortunate circumstances.

“Okay, I’ll call a cab and take you home.”

“What about practice?”

“It’ll be fine. Runa and the coach will be there. I can’t leave you like this.”

And you didn’t. You texted Runa all the details, telling her to tell the coach and others, all the while ordering an uber to take you and Terushima to his house. You remember the address from the countless times you’ve brought notes over to help him study for a test that he seemed to forget until the day before. The hard part was about to come.

Getting Terushima to move.

He seemed to be on low power mode, and still a couple seconds away from passing out. You weren’t even sure how he made it this far on his own. But, with all the strength you could muster, you grabbed waist and hoisted him up and to lean on you. He was warm, which was partially due to the fever but, it was a weight that was extremely comforting to you. He also didn’t smell terrible, which was odd to you. If he was in good health, you’d say that his scent wouldn’t even be bad.

Probably really good.

You shake away the intrusive thoughts, which soon come right back to you when you feel his hand grip your waist. Tightly. You squeak, surprised, but he didn’t seem to notice, only focused on standing upright.

It was for the better anyways, because he would’ve likely seen you blush all the way to the car.

You open the door to the car, and greet the driver quickly, before carefully placing Terushima inside, being mindful of his head and making sure he was comfortably seated and walking to the other side. He turns to you.

“Yo-you’re coming?” He asks weakly, and you roll eyes. “Of course I am, moron. You can’t even walk properly.” You mumble the last bit, but you were sure he heard because his expression changed to something you couldn’t quite place.

The ride consisted of the usual tension that came from uber rides, along with you making sure that Terushima didn’t fall asleep, knowing it would be a lot harder to get him up if he did. Finally, you got to his house, and thanked the driver while pulling Terushima up like a ragdoll and dragging him to his house. You unlocked the door with the keys from his bag and once opened, you scourged a place to put him, knowing damn well you wouldn’t be able to get him up the stairs if getting him down was such as issue. After some scanning, you managed to get him on one of the long couches in his living room. You let him down gently, not thinking too hard about his blatant refusal to let go of you for a few seconds. You put his stuff down and blow out a sigh.

Okay next steps.

“Hey.” You weren’t sure why, but you used a hushed voice. Maybe because he seemed extremely out of it now, but also because just the state of him made you feel a certain kind of way. A way you would’ve never thought you would feel. “Which room is yours? I’m going to bring some of your blankets down.” He groans a little.

“It’s too hot.” He says before coughing into his pillow, and you grimace. Yeah, okay you’ll deal with the fever first. Since you don’t know where his family keeps the medication, and you don’t think Terushima is the most trustworthy source at the moment, you decide to do the best you can. You go to the kitchen and get a small rag to put under cold water. You rung it out slightly, coming back to gently place the rag on his forehead. You hear him let out a sound of comfort, to which you give a sigh of relief.

You figured that once he cools down he still might get shivers, as true of any fever, so you decide to head upstairs and try to find his room. But you feel a slightly sweaty hand grab your wrist weakly.

“Stay.”

Terushima muttered it lightly, but it made your heart do a full flip. Was he usually this clingy when he was sick? You bit your lip lightly, bending down to his level. “I’m just getting you some blankets, I’ll be back.”

He held your hand for a while, before letting go, seemingly understanding that you were going to come back. You let out a huge breathe, rubbing your cheeks to rid them of your blush, before going upstairs to look for his room. You found it easily, and grabbed the blankets, bunching them up in your arms. You come back down and throw them on a chair in the living area, close enough for easy grabbing if he’d get cold.

“You came back.” Terushima notices weakly, and snort. “Yeah, of course. What, you thought I’d jump out the window?” You go to check on the rag, making sure it was still cold, trying to avoid eye contact. But you couldn’t avoid his tired eyes.

“With how much I bother you, it seems possible.” He seems to be forming longer sentences, which is a good sign. “Do you really think I’m that cruel?” He laughs quietly. “No, but you’re a hardass.” You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, cause you guys are stupid enough to pull shit like this.” Terushima shifts in his place, rotating to face you properly.

“Preliminaries are coming up. I needed to practice. I’m the captain.”

“Not to death, moron.” He stays quiet. You sigh. “Look, I admire your dedication, but you need to find a balance. Know when to put yourself and your health first.” He still doesn’t say anything, but shivers slightly. You immediately grab the blanket from the chair and cover him with it. “Told you you’d get cold.” Terushima clicks his tongue, piercing shining in the light of his living room. You take the rag of his forehead, using your hand to dab up any remaining moisture.

“You need to sleep it off. Get some strength back.” You order, getting up to rewet the rag.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” His question catches you off guard, his eyes watching your whole-body twist around, mouth open like a gaping fish. You take a couple seconds to formulate your answer.

“…Of course I will.” The answer leads him to give you a comforted smile, before closing his eyes, letting exhaustion take over.

“You’re a really good manager, you know.” And with that, Terushima is out like a light. You stare slightly, flustered.

“Thank you.”

Terushima wakes up with a slightly pulsing body ache, a sore throat, but not much else. He doesn’t know how long he’s slept for, but he did know it was deep. He sits up to see the sky darkened tremendously, and across the living room to clock to read that it was close to midnight.

He clears his throat uncomfortably. He winces at the pain.

“Hey you’re awake.” Your voice causes him to jump, muscles aching from the sudden movement, as he whips his head to you in his kitchen, stirring a pot over his stovetop. His look of confusion must’ve been evident, so you decided to fill him in.

“I made some soup with some things I found around the kitchen. Hope you don’t mind.” He watches you ladle some soup into a bowl and make your way to him. You give him the soup, smile comforting yet still worried.

“How are you feeling now?” He clears his throat again.

“Better.” Terushima’s voice is extremely hoarse, to which he starts to cough painfully. You grimace. “The soup should help with your throat. Then I’ll get you some cough drops.” He nods numbly. You sit across from him on the couch.

“Do you… still have a fever?”

“I don’t think so?” He still felt a little hot, but not nearly as badly as before. You hum. “Where do you keep your thermometer?” You ask, about to stand again, to which he stops you, putting the soup you had given him to the side. “Outta batteries…” He paused, before continuing, looking at you with a certain kind of intensity. “You could check the same way you did at the school.” He mumbled the last bit, and you reddened at the memory.

Right, you had repressed that moment. You were stressed and the movement had just come out of instinct. It was the way your mother did it. You looked to Terushima, who was having trouble keeping eye contact with you.

“Okay…” You moved slowly, taking his head in your arms, before pressing your cheek on his forehead. You stayed like for a couple seconds, having this action being much more intimate than before. You pulled away, staring deeply into his eyes.

“It’s better than before, but you’re still a little warm.” You practically whispered, still holding his head in your hands. You watch with slightly widened eyes when he cups your hand and nuzzles into your palm.

To your shock, you pulled away, leaving a slightly confused and hurt Terushima.

“Uh- You seem to be doing a little better though… And it’s getting a little late so- I- I’m just going to go. There’s more soup in the kitchen and I hope you feel better soon. See you on Monday, uh- Hopefully.” You stumble through your sentence, backing away slowly and grabbing your things, pulling his door open and quickly exiting.

You shut the door, breathing quickly, a hotness running across your face at the vivid detail of how nice his hand felt against yours as you ran to the bus stop.

What. The. Hell.

#haikyuu #fanfic #writing prompt #drabble #haikyuu fluff #writing #humour #terushima yuuji #terushima x reader #haikyuu terushima #hq x reader #hq fluff

25 notes · View notes

colorsunimaginable · 1 month

Text

the spare // chapter sixty-eight // death eater ! tom hiddleston oc x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary:

While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord's triumph, she's being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance's greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

words for this fic: 6.7k warnings for this chapter: p in v, fingering, dirty talk

a million boops to my beta reader banners by @cafekitsune

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Chapter Sixty-Eight:

Cliveden’s gardens at night in the winter are beautiful. They’re vast and eerily empty, though that could just be the stillness of the night. Victorian lamp posts light the way and with the gently falling snow, kinda gives me Narnia vibes.

I wander around, careful to stick to the crunchy gravel paths and keep the main house in sight. This isn’t the first time I’ve had such an opportunity for escape. Yeah, I could Apparate anywhere, but why? Now that a plan will be in place, what’s the point? It’s exactly what I wanted.

Movement draws my eye and I catch Diana’s head above the shrubbery, heading in my direction. I’m not ready to go inside yet, so I sit on a nearby bench and wait for her to join me.

“Did they send you to make sure I was still here?” I ask, mostly teasing.

“Kyle did,” she admits as she sits next to me. She’s all bundled up in a stylish thick wool coat while I’m just fine in my Ilvermorny sweater and Thomus’ scarf. “But that’s alright, I’d much rather talk to you.”

Instantly my guard's up. “About what?”

She hesitates for a moment, but I give her my best encouraging expression, despite my raging nerves.

“Well, I wanted to ask how you feel about Thomus.”

I blink, my eyebrows shooting up. “Oh, um, well, I -”

“It’s just that Jake seems to think you genuinely care about him because of how adamant you are about his safety,” she says. “Now that I’ve met you and I’ve seen you two together, I think he’s right, but I wonder if it’s more than that.”

I think about my answer for a few moments, but respond with a question instead. “Is this because you two used to date?”

She immediately shakes her head and chuckles. “Definitely not. It didn’t last longer than a month or two and it was a long time ago.”

“Did-did he break up with you?” I ask with some hesitation.

“I dumped him actually,” she says. “He just… When we hung out or went on dates, his mind always seemed like it was elsewhere. The only time he seemed fully present and invested was when we…” she trails off.

“When what?” I prompt.

She gives me a sheepish expression. “Sorry, it might be a bit TMI.”

I shrug and shake my head. “Don’t worry. There’s no such thing as TMI for me. I need everything.” Even if that information guts me. I’d always rather know.

“When we were sleeping together,” she says all in one breath.

I don’t say anything, waiting to hear more. “Oh, is that it?”

Her eyebrows tilt up in sympathy. “I suppose if I were in your situation I wouldn’t want to hear about it.”

“Yeah,” I say, looking down. “I can see that. Do you know what he was so focused on?”

“Well, I know his mother had passed away a few months before and then there was… her .”

“Bellatrix,” I sigh knowingly.

“He visited her every couple weeks - no matter what. I didn’t even know he was still going after we started dating. When I confronted him, he insisted there was nothing physical going on between them, but I… had my doubts. He told me he stopped going after that, but I know he went back after it ended,” she explains. “Does he still see her often?”

“I… have no idea honestly.”

“Have you not asked?”

I shake my head. “Why would I?”

“Because you two are…” she sighs. “It’s complicated, I know.”

“There’s a massive power imbalance between us and I’m not going to let myself forget that, regardless of how I feel.”

“What about how he feels?” she asks gently.

“If anything he feels is real, then why am I still his prisoner?” I answer a little too quickly. “He doesn’t see me as his equal. I don’t want to belong to him like I’m some kind of possession. I want a partner willing to rely on me as I want to rely on them in return. How can anyone be devoted to an object?” I finish by inhaling sharply, having taken short breaths during my lament.

Her lips press together as she regards me with a cautious look. “The world has really changed since Harry Potter died,” she says. “No one is doing well - especially muggleborns. No one has been able to fly under the radar since they started implementing some kind of forced registry.” She pauses and then chuckles. “And you would not be able to go unnoticed.”

I sigh. “It’s the hair isn’t it?”

“Actually, no,” she says. “You’d be surprised how popular some of these articles about you have been.”

Now this, I’m taken aback. "Articles? As in more than one?"

"I'm afraid so. The best one is from the New York Ghost , but Witch Weekly's was pretty nice. Does someone have it out for you at The Daily Prophet , by any chance?"

"Probably Rita Skeeter," I grumble. I want to know what they've been saying about me. "Though I'm surprised I was interesting enough for one article, let alone multiple."

"I disagree," she says. "I think what you're doing is very brave. You haven't given up despite all these odds stacked against you. Honestly, I was really excited to meet you when I heard you were coming."

I blush, laughing awkwardly. "I, um, I'm sorry, I definitely had no idea you existed until tonight. Thank you for inviting me to that thing on New Years Eve, even though I can't go. It reminded me of what being normal was like."

"No problem!" she smiles. "I would've been glad to have you. You’re super cool and totally normal.” She winks at me and quietly laughs to herself. “But seriously, you should consider thinking that he might just want to keep you safe, where he can protect you.”

“But I can protect myself ,” I gently protest. “It’s because I’ve been under his ‘care’ that I’ve been vulnerable! He has to realize that.”

Her eyes soften with sympathy. “I think he does, because there was one weekend Jake told me about. He’d just met you and Thomus in Edinburgh and you’d been… assaulted while they’d all just been standing there, unknowing. He said he’d never seen Thomus be that violent before - violent without using magic that is.”

I stare at her eye-wided, enthralled with this story. This change in perspective.

“And then the next night, there’d been this party Thomus got drunk at and Jake said he could tell something was really bothering him. Apparently, he was really reluctant to talk about it, too.”

I scoff. “I hope he got over himself and opened up so you can share this information with me now.”

“Yeah, so he finally said he blamed himself for being an idiot and not paying better attention. Like, it really hit him that your safety was in his hands.”

I… don’t know what I’m allowed to feel. My heart wants to swoon and my mind wants to roll its eyes. Except, if he’s not as terrible as I thought, am I allowed to hope?

“I think I remember when he came home,” I admit. “We continued drinking and he asked me how I felt - which was very new for us at the time.”

Diana smiles ruefully. “Does he get points for trying, at least?”

“We’ll see,” I say. “I’m definitely nervous that it could all just be a… fling to him.”

Diana startles me by releasing a loud cackle.

“A fling?!” she bellows, struggling to catch her breath. “Oh honey, you’re delusional.”

“What? No!” I protest. “I’m being realistic.”

“Oh Lady Morgana,” she says, wiping tears from her eyes and standing. “Come on, let’s go inside before my fingers fall off.”

~*~

By the early hours of the morning, I’m utterly exhausted.

Kyle had changed his mind and decided to tell me his roughly outlined plan. It’s not terrible, but luckily the rough bits still have time to be hammered out. I should have plenty of notice before I have to leave, plenty of time for contingencies.

Thomus is out like a light, still snoring softly, when I return. I try to be as quiet as possible as I strip down to my undies and crawl into the massive four-poster bed with him.

It must not be massive enough, though, because just me softly rolling into position beneath the covers is enough to rouse a few sleepy words from him.

“Darling?” he rasps and I feel his hands reach for me in the dark.

“Hi,” I whisper. “Sorry I woke you.”

He hums and pulls himself closer, resting his head on my chest. “How did we get back to the cottage?” he says sleepily, curling himself against me.

“We didn’t,” I say, running a hand through his hair and the other over his shoulders. “We’re still at Cliveden.”

“Hm, I don’t remember getting here.”

His tone isn’t setting off any alarm bells. It’s low and gravelly, like he’s not entirely awake yet. He’s just mindlessly chatting and I just have to be casual.

“Well, you were very drunk,” I say. “You passed out playing Exploding Snap. Jake had to levitate you up here.”

His arm around my waist tightens, pulling me tighter against him. “You didn’t leave.”

I don’t say anything, panic instantly spiking my heart rate, and I hope he’s not awake enough to pay attention.

“You could have, but you didn’t,” he continues. “Not that I’d blame you if you did.”

I stay silent, trying to convince myself that his calm demeanor is because whatever he’s talking about, couldn’t be about the drama of the night. There's no way he was awake enough to hear what we said.

“No,” I murmur. “I didn’t.”

“What room did he put us in?” he murmurs.

I let out a sudden strained laugh. “You’d never guess.”

~*~

On New Year’s Eve, Thomus leaves again. He says it’s to finish last minute tasks for the Gala and whatnot and I feel… depressed… again. I’m mostly uninterested in eating - I ate a bologna and cheese sandwich for dinner. I’m not in the mood to read, listen to music or watch any movies, but I’ve had The Nanny on all day - just to make the house less quiet.

So I just go to bed at the blessed hour of 8pm.

I’ve barely been in bed for longer than fifteen minutes when the easily recognizable sound of the Floo roaring to life drifts up the stairs. I’ve sat up by the time Thomus finds me.

“In bed already?” he asks, surprised. “On New Year's Eve?”

I shrug, holding the blanket up to my naked chest. “It’s not the easiest holiday to spend by yourself.”

Thomus sits on the edge of the bed, swiftly leaning in to kiss my cheek. “And I don’t intend for you to, I agree completely.” He jumps up, taking long strides through the bathroom to my room, where I hear him opening the wardrobe. I sigh, scooting to the edge to throw my legs over it. It’s just my luck I was already in bed.

“A little warning might have been nice,” I say when he returns, arm cradling a black hoodie and black leggings.

He takes one look at me and the next moment he’s tossing my clothes on the bed and crowding into my space. His large hands cradle my head as he braces me for his lips on mine. He leans in and I have to prop my arms behind me so we don’t fall backward. Of course this causes the blanket to fall and his hand swoops down to cup and grope my chest, the attention causing my nipples to harden.

His kisses take my breath away and my thighs are quick to part for him. His hips slide right into the space provided, grinding his hard-on against me. My kisses slacken because all of my attention goes right to my throbbing clit and I desperately whimper.

His hips rock against me one more time before he pulls away, both of us breathless. His eyes trail down my body as he speaks. “We don’t have much time,” he says. “I will have to savor you later.”

When he steps completely away from me, I’m left cold, so I quickly slide on the oversized hoodie as he adjusts himself in his pants.

“Savor me?” I ask when I stand, stepping into the pants one leg at a time.

He chuckles, watching me wiggle the waistband up over my hips and stomach. “I thought it was a bit more romantic than fuck.”

Ping . There goes the tiniest fracture in my heart for him. I scramble for something clever or funny to say.

“I suppose it could’ve been worse,” I say, popping in a British accent for the last word. “You could’ve said shag .”

“Cute,” he smirks.

I follow him downstairs, sliding on my socks before I stop at the door for my sneakers and turn for the fireplace.

He clicks his tongue. “Not that way.”

I narrow my eyes and follow him out the door. He takes me to the spot beyond the fence and touches the tattoo before Apparating us to the Manor. The front gates are open and he swiftly takes hold of my tattoo again to get me over the barrier.

We walk down the entrance path, under gilded arches and golden fairy lights crossing overhead from the tall hedges. Holding my hand, he pulls me around the building along the back toward a door being held open by an elf.

“Miss,” Remmy says to me in a disinterested greeting and drops his voice to a whisper. “Master Thomus, Mistress expects you in fifteen minutes. Master isn’t even dressed -”

“Don’t worry, Remmy, I will be there,” Thomus reassures them as we pass. “Mums the word about Miss Alder, remember?”

“Yes, yes, Remmy remembers,” the elf dismisses.

Thomus leads me to his room, making sure to use hallways noticeably absent of chatty portraits. A familiar route because of the many times I'd avoided them myself. The moment we’re in his room, he heads for the bathroom, already stripping. There’s a black robed suit hanging from a hook on the door.

“Please tell me you're not gonna surprise me with a ball gown, are you?” I ask, hopping up onto the bed and toeing my shoes off.

“I value my neck, thanks,” he remarks, pulling on first his suit pants, then the black button up shirt. “Would you grab me a pair of cufflinks from the closet?”

“Does it matter which one?” I ask, knowing he's got a variety.

“No.”

By the time I emerge from the closet, elegant silver M stamped cufflinks in hand, he’s already dressed. He smiles at me as I pass him the tiny pieces of metal.

“All you have to do is wait for a few hours,” he says, his mood curiously… cheerful? “Go back to sleep if you'd like - just don't leave this room. Only Remmy knows you're here.”

“Why all the fuss?” I ask, my eyes greedily taking his suited form in. I suppress the desire to pull him close by his silk tie for a kiss. He looks too suave and sophisticated and… way out of my league.

“For the simple reason that I don’t want certain guests to know you’re here,” he explains, stepping into the bathroom once again. I hear him spritz a bottle of something.

“And why is that again?”

He glides out of the bathroom, passing me by with a quick peck to my cheek. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

I completely ignore the fact he didn’t answer my question, because I’m way too distracted by his suddenly fragrant cologne. I breathe in lung-fulls of cedar and pine, trying not to swoon in his wake as he pulls out his wand to light the fireplace.

Then he’s gone, the door audibly locking behind him.

~*~

Well, I definitely try to sleep. Except I wasn’t even tired when I climbed into bed the first time.

First I change into a purple wispy nightgown with a deep vee in the neck that stops at my thighs. Then I change out of it when the frills around the short sleeves become too itchy under the covers, opting instead for a simpler one with long sleeves and a hem that falls around my ankles.

All this, just to be uncomfortable in every position I try. Nevermind the fact my mind keeps doing laps of worrying, wondering who exactly Thomus doesn’t want to know I’m here. Rodolphus? Bellatrix? Is he dancing and flirting with her while her husband tracks me down this very moment?

Finally I give up and decide to grab a handful of Thomus’ old Daily Prophets and settle on the cushioned bench in the alcove of one of his windows. I sit sideways on it, my back against the wall with the door in my line of sight.

I’m about to cast a subtle illumination spell to help my poor eyesight in this dim lighting when movement out the window catches my eye. It’s the curtains billowing out of the open doors to the ball room - or the large drawing room as Narcissa calls it. Golden light spills from windows and the doorway as the guests' shadows and silhouettes move within. Some are moving swiftly as if dancing while some are mingling. Before I can think better of it, I’m pushing open the French window closest to me.

I hear boisterous laughter and the low hum of chatter, and best of all, music drifts up to me like a leaf in the breeze. It’s the exact kind of music I’d imagine would play at a ball like this, and I can’t help but picture myself down there, in some pretty dress twirling around the room with Thomus.

I sit there, content to listen to the string quartet and people watch. Some come outside for the cool air, others to have a private word alone with each other.

Hermione is relatively easy to spot. Her black gown is ridiculously puffy around the skirt, but synched skin-tight in the bodice, and even from here I can see the jewels glittering on her chest. I’m surprised to see Draco by her side, dressed head to toe in white. They linger by the door, always surrounded by ladies vying for his attention. I can’t help but notice how his hand slowly caresses her back, almost… lovingly from her waist up to her shoulders and nape when he thinks no one is watching.

Thankfully, I don’t see Bellatrix, but I also don’t see Thomus, either. An inconsequential fact I try not to linger on.

I don’t know how long I sit like that, but eventually Thomus returns, quietly stepping into the room with two empty champagne glasses and a bottle.

“I kinda feel like Cinderella wanting to go to the ball,” I say softly as he approaches. He looks politely puzzled and before he can ask, I explain, “It’s just a No-Maj fairytale.”

“Ah,” he hums. He takes hold of the forgotten newspapers on the other side of the bench and raises an eyebrow.

I feel a blush creep up my throat and try to keep my tone nonchalant. “I… maybe like to read your articles,” I say. “It’s crazy to think we both spent time at The Daily Prophet , but at different times so we never ran into each other.”

I feel like I’m rambling, but how could I not? He looks and smells far too dashing for me to think clearly.

“It is a bit ironic,” he says, replacing his papers where I’d gotten them from before returning. He takes up the rest of the bench, his back to the window, and places the glasses and bottle on the floor next to him.

“Do you think things might’ve been different if we’d met there instead?” I ask hesitantly, knowing all too well his opinions on ‘what if’s. “Before?”

Thomus sighs heavily and the air puffs out his cheeks. He raises an eyebrow and gives me a sideways look. “Honestly?”

I nod. “Yeah, always.”

“Hm, I think…” his mouth downturns as he speaks, his voice betraying his amusement. “I’d find you the most annoying person on the planet.”

A disbelieving laugh bursts out. “What?!”

He nods, completely solemn. “Oh yeah, always asking questions, always bothering me.”

“Oh no, I’d have to talk to you about our job ,” I say with dramatic sarcasm, trying and failing to keep the smile off my face. “Oh no, what a nightmare.”

Thomus grabs my ankle, lifting my foot so he can shift closer, until my calf rests on his opposite thigh. That hand slides from my ankle all the way up my leg, and I’m disappointed it’s not under my nightgown. “It would have been an absolute nightmare to have you prance into my office every bloody day,” he continues as his fingers meet the crease at my hip and wedge themselves in. Then they keep traveling and grip all the plentiful flesh there. “I’d never be able to get any work done because I’d constantly be thinking about bending you over my desk.”

My eyes run laps over the sharp lines of his face, trying to determine if he’s serious. “Is that so?”

Thomus’ eyes drop to my mouth, his free hand brings his thumb to brush my lower lip. “These would be the worst. With every meddlesome question you ask, I’d only be able to think about how they’d taste.”

I’m holding my breath - my heart thudding, my ears burning. I’m suddenly very unnecessarily conscious of how far my glasses have slipped down my nose, the cool breeze from the window across my chest, and how heavy I’m breathing over his thumb. And for some reason his accent is doing funny things to my insides right now, of all times.

His voice is low, husky, and oh, so hot. “I’d be thinking about how you’d sound when I touched you. And yes, I say when . I could only endure such torture for so long before I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

I snort, a disbelieving smile breaking out under his thumb. “You make me sound like some kind of irresistible vixen.” A chuckle rumbles out of his chest, but I keep going. “Well, I have good news for you - I wouldn’t object to any of that.”

“Is that so?” His hand caresses from my jaw to my neck.

I bite my lip to control my grin. “Well, yeah. Why do you think I’d be bothering you so much in the first place?”

Thomus lets out a breathy chuckle and sits back, his eyes crinkling in the corners. I can only stare, mesmerized by seeing genuine happiness on his face.

“So,” I say brightly. “Are you enjoying this party you put so much effort into preparing?”

His smile fades. “Not as much as I ought to, I suppose.”

“Oh, why not?” I ask, placing my hand over his one on my neck, feeling along the lines of his knuckles and fingers.

“The people down there…” he starts, eyes gazing out the window, “the only thing I’ve ever been to them is a source for gossip and scandal. And then the few who look past all that see the Malfoy name and nothing else.”

I let that process. “So what you’re saying is you’re a real catch?”

He bursts out laughing, the hand from my hip reaching up to scratch his chin. “Yeah, for those desperate to social climb.”

“So you’re a desperately eligible bachelor ?” I tease with a bit more drama to my tone. “How interesting. All the finest debutantes must be lining up down there, so what ever are you doing up here with me?”

“I’m a little old for debutantes.” He settles toward me into a more relaxing position, pulling his knee up and pressing his calf onto the bench under my thighs. With his face closer to mine now, his softly spoken words are loud and clear. “And besides, your company is vastly preferable over theirs.”

My face floods with heat and I crumble under his direct eye contact. My mouth suddenly feels as dry as the desert while I’m forced to figure out some kind of intelligent reply. “Quite shocking, really,” I say, my voice a whisper until I clear my throat, swallowing down some nerves. “Who wouldn’t want to hang out with the wizarding world’s most crankiest?”

He laughs again. “Are you talking about me or them?”

I’m about to answer, but a dull tapping sound coming from the party draws my attention. The guests are returning inside, tapping their wands against their champagne glasses.

“Ten minutes to midnight,” Thomus explains. “Lucius and Narcissa are about to make their toast.”

I slip my other hand around the one he has at my neck, both of mine cradling it near my chest as I glance at the clock on his mantle. “I guess that means you have to go?”

“Probably,” he admits slowly. “But I’m here.”

“Hold on, speaking of being here, isn’t Draco supposed to be in Switzerland?” I jut in, my eyes easily finding him and Hermione on the edge of the crowd.

“He is and Lucius is absolutely furious,” he sighs. “I can’t believe he’d be so foolish.”

“Well, it's obvious, right?” I ask, side-eying him, unsure if this is something I could even talk about. “He’s like, really into Hermione.”

A few moments tick by in silence as I stare at the crowd below. I glance at him to see his eyes had been on me the whole time, his expression pensive. When our eyes meet, he holds them for a moment before his gaze follows his hand as both of his gently hold mine instead. He pulls back my left sleeve, his fingers lightly tracing his name inked on my skin. Then he goes further, tracing the white puckered lines of the scar Bellatrix left me.

“What’re you thinking about?” I whisper.

His lips curl ruefully. “I’m thinking about how much of a hypocrite I am. I’ve called him foolish when here I am,” he says. “Unable to stay away.”

“From what?” I breathe, feeling stupid the moment I finish. My heart is beating so hard I wonder if he can feel my pulse where he holds my arm.

Thomus’ eyes hold on my arm, avoidant of my own. His voice is soft like he's telling me a secret. “I snuck you in tonight because I couldn’t bear not spending it with you.”

My eyebrows come together and I feel my head shake. “It’s just another year.”

“No,” he says, his eyes flashing up to mine, adamant. “Moments like these are important, to spend with those who are important. That’s why they’re all gathered down there, isn’t it? To go into the New Year praising the Dark Lord’s reign, congratulating themselves for their accomplishments this year.” He looks back down at our hands, at his name. “I know I don’t have much to celebrate in that regard, but I do know that you’re important to me… and frankly I'm tired of pretending otherwise.”

I can only stare at him. Unable to think, unable to breathe . How could he say something like that?

When I finally have to draw breath after what feels like an eternity, I only get to say his name. “Thomus -”

The loud popping of fireworks bursts from below, along with some cheer that has me turning my gaze away only briefly. I turn back and Thomus’ mouth descends on mine.

The kiss is full and wonderful, but short. He pulls back inches away to search into my gaze, like he’s asking for permission, like he’s making sure what he just said was okay.

It was more than okay. It’s exactly what my heart wants to hear, even though my own stubborn insecurities push doubt into my mind.

I can’t say anything back. I can’t tell him how I feel.

But I can show him.

Our lips meet again in a rush. At least it feels like that to me, like we just can’t bare being apart anymore. I pour my heart and soul into this kiss. My hands find their way into his hair, his caress and grip every part of my body he can reach.

Soon I’m pushing him back so I can climb onto his lap. He’s pulled up my nightgown and the cool air feels amazing on my bare legs. I’ve got one foot on the floor and the other is bent at the knee, helping control my balance while I’m grinding on him.

He keeps pulling me to him, my weight rocking into him, and I brace a hand on the wall in the bay window as he falls further back, keeping me upright. His hands slip under my nightgown, roaming my thighs. I adjust my hips, feeling brave enough to put both hands on his chest to steady me. His suit pants can’t hide how hard he is. I try to use that as a reminder he’s genuinely into me. No matter how many times I’m in his lap, it’s still hard to believe he wants me here.

“How long till you have to go back?” I ask with controlled breaths.

He growls. “Just fuck me, baby.” His fingers painfully dig into my hips as he pulls me down, undulating his hips against me. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

There are things I want to blurt out, simple little words swelling in my chest that threaten to ruin everything.

But if I confess how I feel, it wouldn’t change anything. I’ll still be his prisoner. His possession.

I don’t wanna be an object. I long to be more .

My hands slide up his chest to meet at his neckline, shoving my fingers into the knot on his tie. I don’t bother pulling it all the way off before I go at his buttons, not stopping until his muscled chest and abdomen are revealed. My hips rock, rubbing my pussy over his cock straining to be let free.

Then I jump up, standing to shimmy my undies to the floor. Thomus sits up and shrugs off his suit jacket, pulling off his tie completely. I pause, waiting to return to my seat, but then he looks at me, his eyes raking me up and down.

“I want that off,” he says, referring to the only article of clothing I have left.

I struggle not to make a face, because I still have a hard time being completely naked in front of him. If we were in bed, that would be different. This just feels too exposed.

I grip the material around my hips and step toward him. “Take it off for me?” I ask.

Lust-filled eyes lock on mine and his hands go to my thighs, sliding them up my sides, taking the gown with them. I raise my arms to help him pull it off the rest of the way and a blast of cool air from the window makes goosebumps rise all over me. It sends a shiver through my body and my nipples harden.

When my arms are free, I step even closer and cup his face, pressing my lips to his. I kiss him softly, from one corner of his mouth to the other. While I distract his mouth with sweet kisses, one hand takes off my glasses and the other goes to his belt.

Of course, I can only use one brain cell at a time, so my mouth becomes distracted when I struggle with undoing his belt. I just pull my mouth away all together so I can get a visual on my hands. I glance up at Thomus’ face to find his heated gaze focused on mine.

“Sorry,” I mutter, looking down at the matter at hand. “Not very sexy, I know.”

“Oh, on the contrary,” he says and inhales sharply when my hands finally wrap around his swollen cock. My palms glide up and down gently before giving it a firm squeeze. My thumb circles his head, spreading a bead of pre-cum, and he leans forward, lips and tongue tracing a path from my neck to my breasts. One of his big hands cups my breast and when he immediately bites down on my nipple, I gasp and whimper. His tongue soothes away the pain, swirling around the stiff peak.

His other hand slides down my thigh, fingers feeling the dimples and divots until they hook behind my knee. My hands go to his shoulders for balance as he lifts my foot until it’s on the bench. His fingers quickly glide back up my thigh, this time underneath it to where it’s most sensitive and softest.

Thomus’ lips release my nipple and he pulls back enough to see my face. “I think you’re very sexy,” he murmurs. “From this pretty little pussy of yours” - his fingers glide through my folds, teasingly spreading the slipperiness from the center to my clit - “to those lips I just can’t seem to get enough of.”

His thumb presses in on my clit and my train of thought struggles to stay on track. “You’re pretty hot too,” I say breathily. “You’ve got these shoulders and thighs and hands that just -” My words are cut off by a moan when he slips two fingers inside me.

“That just what?” he teases, unmistakably smug.

It takes me a moment to answer because his thumb in combination with his fingers curling against my g-spot have my hips rocking and my brain turning to mush. My breaths come in short pants and my eyes are pinched closed, focused on riding the pleasurable waves his fingers are orchestrating.

“Concentrate, darling,” he presses. “Answer me.”

“Hands,” I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders, “hands that do terrible… awful things to me.”

His fingers turn aggressive, pressing harder and rhythmic as he hums in approval. “That’s a good girl.”

His lips return to my nipple and that pushes me past the point of no return. A stream of curses and Thomus’ name tumble from my mouth. My toes curl and my body goes stiff as my orgasm washes over me. Thomus slows his long fingers, but still presses in hard on my g-spot as my pussy pulses around him.

When I can finally breathe again, I push at Thomus’ shoulders and he leans back, bringing his drenched digits up to his mouth. He groans at my taste and resituates himself on the bench, pushing his pants and briefs past his thighs. I’m still dazed from my orgasm when Thomus pulls me on top of him. He holds his cock at the base and guides me until he’s sliding home, deep inside my pussy.

“Oh fuck,” I moan, my eyes closing. This position never fails to put him as deep inside as possible, and if I really sit on his lap, he’s hitting my cervix. But that would be painful, so instead I move my hips around slowly, figuring out what angle works best and won’t kill my thighs. One particular move makes him groan and my eyes flutter open to find his locked intently on me, watching my body move. I definitely found the right one.

I start to go a little faster, a little harder. I have a hand on a window pane and the other grasping his shoulder to stabilize me. My thighs are burning, but the pain isn’t enough to make me stop. He’s inside me, and I love being connected like this. What I feel for him never feels more real than it does in moments like this. When I can’t be in denial.

With the increasing intensity of my hips, little whimpers start to tumble from my mouth alongside my panting. My bottom lip is nailed between my teeth and as I can feel my orgasm hurtling towards me, fuck is the only word coming out of my mouth.

Whenever he feels they could use more attention, his hands never fail to stray to my breasts. Supporting them as they bounce and sway, leaning forward to kiss and nibble at my nipples.

“So fucking beautiful,” I hear him grind out above the steady and erotic sound of our bodies joining.

My orgasm is close - so, so close. I’m starting to go crazed, desperate to cum again. Thomus is, too. I can hear it in his voice as he groans.

“Baby, I need you to cum on me.” His voice is strained like he’s in utter agony.

I let out a frustrated whimper as I pause to grind on his lap, hoping for an angle that hits my clit.

“I need - can you - ?” I gasp out.

I don’t even have to finish my sentence before his fingers wiggle in under my belly. My pussy’s so slippery, the pads of his fingers find the hood of my clit and press in, rubbing it in circles. My hips jerk, bouncing up and down on his cock, continuing even as my orgasm finally crashes over my body. I throw my head back as my back arches. His body stiffens below me as he cums, groaning out his pleasure.

“Beautiful darling, well done,” he pants with praise after we both have a chance to breathe, his voice shaking. “I lov-”

Thomus is abruptly cut off by loud banging on his door.

We both jump like we’ve been hit. There’s a moment where our eyes meet and I see panic cross his face just as it does on mine.

“Thomus!” a familiar man’s voice calls from beyond the door.

Thomus blinks, his expression hardening. He brings a finger up to his lips, warning me to be quiet. “Closet,” he whispers. “Go. Now.”

Nodding, my legs are like jelly as I push myself off of him. He’s hastily throwing on his suit as I bend to scoop up my nightgown and undies. I dash for the closet. It’s dark enough I can just hide behind the open door. Instead of the nightgown though, I opt for my pants and hoodie. Plus a pair of Thomus’ socks while I’m at it because mine are lost in the sheets somewhere.

While I’m desperately dressing, the man at the door calls for Thomus again. “Where have you been, Thomus? I’ve been sent to fetch your ungrateful ass.”

I squeeze behind the closet door to peek through the crack between the hinges just as Thomus strides to the door. He’s fully dressed and smoothing back his hair with his fingers. He pauses to take a deep breath before opening the door.

It’s Rodolphus.

“What do you want,” Thomus demands, sounding amazingly composed.

Rodolphus leans a hand on the doorframe. “You missed your brother’s toast,” he says, a mocking lilt to his tone. His hair is disheveled, the tie to his tux hangs loose around his neck. “How could you have missed this moment to show support for the Dark Lord? Your family? ”

“I don’t answer to you,” Thomus says. He keeps his back straight and his chin up.

Rodolphus puts a finger to his chin, tapping it. “And then I remembered a few other times you’ve mysteriously disappeared from similar events,” Rodolphus continues before abruptly shoving past Thomus into the room. Thomus tries grabbing his coat tails, but he somehow avoids him.

Rodolphus stops in the middle of the room, eyeing it while slowly turning back to Thomus. He inhales heavily through his nose and steps back towards the window with the bench. “A moment ago, I was convinced you were up here fucking my wife,” he says casually. He reaches for something on it and my anxiety explodes in my chest the moment I see him pick up my glasses. “Of course, I was only half-right. This room reeks of sex, but my wife has never hid.”

Rodolphus drops my glasses and stomps on them with his shoe, crushing my lenses under his sole. The glass crunches as he turns, backing up towards the closet. Thomus watches him with furious eyes. His hands are empty, but I know in the blink of an eye he’d have his wand.

“I’m surprised you can still get it up for her since her… accident ,” Rodolphus taunts. “She’s utterly repulsing if you ask me.”

“I didn’t,” Thomus bites.

He’s so close to the closet. My fingers feel for anything on the shelf behind me and immediately feel the unmistakable smooth metal of Thomus’ shoehorn, the very one I tried to pummel him with.

Maybe New Year’s Eve kisses are good luck.

I raise it over my head as he steps to the doorway.

“Your silence is very telling,” Rodolphus chuckles as he slowly steps into the closet. I hear his footsteps on the wood floor as he disappears on the other side of the door.

I’ve shoved my anxiety down enough so I don’t panic as he reappears, wand scanning the room.

Just as he turns to me, I transfigure the shoehorn into a dagger, and hold it up to his throat.

14 notes · View notes

imwriting0verhere · 2 months

Text

Love Again

Chapter 4

“Are you sure you’re okay on your own? It’s no problem to stay with us a bit longer” Amber looks up at me, hopeful. “You heard Da. You’re more than welcome babe” I smile at her, thinking back to the week I’ve just spent with her and her family.

Meeting her parents for the first time wasn’t half as scary as I thought it might be. They were very welcoming and lovely and I didn’t feel like it was rushed or uncomfortable, to take that step in our relationship. Amber’s brother Zane, who was a sound engineer at the recording studio we used for our album, had joined us with his boyfriend. I was relieved to see another familiar face. We all had dinner, went for a walk and just got to know each other on a more personal level. None of that fancy musician stuff. Amber’s dad was kind enough to invite me around for another Sunday roast whenever I was down in London again. And I promised my girlfriend I’d make use of that one last time before I leave for tour. So I said my goodbyes to the Ketteler family and Amber and I took the tube to King’s Cross Station so I could catch my train back home. That’s where we’re currently waiting.

“I kna, but I’ve got to get back home like. Wash my stuff, see me mam, get some last-minute shit sorted before we fly oot.” I chuckle and run my hand over her long brown looks before my hand stops at the small of her back. “But in two weeks I’ll be doon here anyways. Cana fly from Newcastle to LA. We’ll all be flying from Heathrow”.

“I’ll miss you so much” she pouts, and I feel the same when I think about touring and how long I will be gone for.

I just sigh and pull her closer to me. “No need to worried about that just yet, I will see yous again before I leave. I’m not leaving without a goodbye like.”

Before I know it, my train is ready to board and I pull Amber up from our chairs and into my arms. She instantly wraps her arms around me and buries her cheek into my chest

“Call me once you’re home, alright”

“’Course” I tell her softly before I loosen our hug so I can press a fond kiss onto her lips.

Grabbing my suitcase and green backpack, I gently squeeze her hand one last time and make my way over to the platform to board my train. I see Amber waving goodbye before she leaves the station and returns back to her family home.

Now with a four-hour train ride ahead of me, I opt to watch a movie to pass some time.

Throughout I get texts from my mam, asking me when I will arrive back in Shields, and if she could pop round for dinner. Owain wants to know if the lads and I have gotten any closer to finalizing our setlist for the upcoming gigs. And Dean wants to know if I still need him to give me a lift home from the station.

I respond as quick as I can so I can get back to my light entertainment. But an Instagram notification stops me. Without thinking I quickly click on it and the app opens on my phone. It’s a story posted by the official Eden’s Crush account, Y/N’s band. Apparently they’ve just made their way into Amsterdam to play their first show tonight.

Eden's Crush Instagram Story

I can’t wait to see the videos from the gig, seeing the girls in action. Seeing Y/N at what she does best. She deserves this so much, I couldn’t be prouder.

I’m wondering if she knows that. I really haven’t been the best friend in the last few weeks. And even though I’ve enjoyed my time with Amber and her family, I kept thinking about Y/N and how she’s over 600 miles away from me, and will be for the next few months. And the last time I saw and actually spoke to her, we ended in a fight.

God how could I let this happen? To not even say goodbye before she started the most important journey and tour of her life so far?

Before I know it, the familiar neighborhoods of Newcastle come into view and the train comes to a stop. I exit and make my way into the car park, where I can see Dean happily standing and waiting in front of the red Fiat.

“Alreet mate, welcome back” he greets me with a pat on my back before opening the trunk and storing my luggage inside.

“Aye, thanks mate” I return the sentiment and we both climb into the two front seats, driving off towards home.

I’ve still got Y/N and the last time we saw each other on my mind, I am unusually quiet during our ride. Which my friend seems to notice as well.

“Got something on your mind?” he asks me.

“Nah, it’s alreet like” I respond with a little bit too much sadness in my voice. I’m definitely not convincing my best mate.

“Ceemon now Sam. Did something happen with Amber?” he asks concerned.

I sigh and shake my head

“Nah we’re fine. Good like. It’s Y/N actually.” I clear my throat before saying “I’ve just missed her. More than I first realised” I tell him honestly.

My confession catches Dean by surprise and he turns his head and looks at me a bit too long, probably. Given that he should be focused on the road ahead of us.

“Have yer talked to her at all since your fight?”

I shake my head and turn my face towards the window, not wanting to see the disappointment in my friend.

“Think it’s her first gig tonight. You should shoot her a text, wish her good luck”

“A’ll figure something oot, reet.” I tell him a bit frustrated now. I know that he’s right and I shouldn’t snap at him. But I hate being treated like a bairn and people pointing things like this out to me. She’s my friend, I know how to talk to her.

As we pull up and come to a stop in my driveway, I give Dean a quick hug and tell him thanks, before getting my stuff out of the car and walking up to my front door. Unlocking it and stepping inside, I set my luggage down in the foyer before quickly making my way into the kitchen and sitting down at the table. I pull out my phone and open Y/N’s contact. My finger hovering above the number before I finally press it to connect the call.

I’m not sure where we stand exactly, but I need to talk to her, to know she’s okay, to hear her voice. I need to know that our friendship still has a chance.

After a few rings I hear her answering

“Hi”

#sam fender fanfic #sam fender imagines #sam fender fanfiction #sam fender x reader #sam fender #love again

13 notes · View notes

imabeautifulbutterfly · 7 months

Text

Choice - Chapter 7

Summary: You come to a realization as to why Luke is there.

A/N: Hello Lovelies,

Alright you guys are going to laugh, but it looks as though this will actually be a 9-parter story. It's what happens when you go through and edit each time.

I hope you all had a tremendously lovely weekend, things have started to get cold here because Fall is coming in with a vengeance.

Be safe.

Love oo

Warning: Angst, discussions of force use, misunderstanding, anger, heart ache, I think that's it. If I miss anything please let me know.

AO3 Link | OS & MS Master List | Main Master List

Previous -> Next

Luke forced himself to smirk to hide the pain he was feeling, truly what had he been expecting. For you to run into his open arms? He knew you better than that, you’d never cave in so easily, not to him. Not to anyone.

He glanced from the Mandalorian to you, to his former student snuggled into your neck, to the rundown apartment that somehow had been made to feel cozy and homely after you entered.

He chuckled to himself, he was stupid for thinking otherwise, he clearly wasn’t needed here, that was obvious. Yet, no matter how much his head screamed at him to leave, he couldn’t really walk away again. Not again. Never again.

Regardless of how he felt for you, of how much he wanted to fix what he’d broken there was still the matter regarding your force sensitiveness.

“Any chance you’ll have any visitors coming to find the person responsible for their loss?”

He focused his attention on the battle you three had just encountered, above everything else that was the most important thing to deal with. At least for now.

“How …” you began your question, only to have Din answer you.

“It was the will of the force.” He huffed not really believing the words that just escaped his lips, he rolled his eyes as he continued explaining, “Apparently, the Jedi saw something about us during his mediation, and ran right over here.” His sarcasm dripped and hung in the air as his annoyance with the man grew.

A small glimmer of hope had bloomed when you first saw him, you hadn’t noticed at first, but it was there. You’d hoped he’d shown up for you, but at Din’s statement you realized how clearly wrong, you wore. That’s when you noticed the hope that had began, evaporated just as quickly.

It was the will of the force, why did you even think he was here for you? That wasn’t Luke, he didn’t care about relationships, about how you were feeling or about what you wanted. There was no doubt in your heart he was going to leave you once again? He probably wouldn’t have even shown up before you if it hadn’t to do with the force. He really was just going to show up after all these years drop a hello and leave. Your eyes focused on the floor, as his boots entered your peripheral, he wasn’t even going to ask how you’re doing, was he?

The hope that had been there, was replaced with irritation which now was slowly morphing towards annoyance.

You looked Luke in the eyes, determination settling into your stature, “No. When I knock something down, it never gets back up. You should know.” You wished you could have made that statement true about your feelings for Luke. What you really wanted now more than anything, was to leave this room, to walk away from the man who had ripped out your heart.

“I believe we need to talk about your incident back there” Luke motioned with his head over his shoulder.

“Incident?”

“You force pushed someone clear across the compound. You don’t think that raises heads or suspicions?”

So that’s why he came, it all became clear. “Oh, I see.” You nodded with your head as you bit your lip, “That’s why it was the will of the force.” You narrowed your eyes at his calm demeanour, the annoyance was gone, it had shifted into anger. Of course, that’s all he cared about. His training school, finding more force sensitive ones, training them to join the Jedi ranks, rebuilding what had been lost. You shook your head, cursing yourself for thinking different, for allowing yourself a moment to hope.

You cleared your throat, “I’m gonna hit the ‘fresher. Excuse me.” You moved with purpose, your goal was simple: to get as far away as possible. And right now that meant hiding in the refresher.

Din gently grabbed your arm as you rushed past him, he didn’t want to keep you, but he wanted to make sure you were looked after. Especially, since the way Luke hadn’t even asked you how you were feeling bothered him, it was like he was here to find the answers to his own curiosity.

“There’s some fresh clothes on the bed for you. Also there’s bacta gel for anything the kid couldn’t fix.”

You leaned into his side, holding Grogu tighter in your arms, as you quickly rested your head on his pauldron, “Thanks.” It was all you could say as you continued your trek to the one bedroom that had its own refresher.

Din turned his attention to Luke, now that it was just the two of them without the kid, without you, there was a few things he needed to clarify. Even if you didn’t ask for it, he was going to protect you, whether that be your emotional state or your physical state.

“Is this common for you?” He shifted off the wall, moving closer to the Jedi, “Having people run away from you the first chance they get?”

Luke wanted to respond to say he was wrong, but he clearly wasn’t; especially since you didn’t even bother discussing the force power you wielded. His heart ached as he realized how deeply he’d hurt you, and showing up before you simply opened those wounds again.

Din was annoyed by the fact the man showed up unannounced, and even more so about whatever happened between you and Luke. He clearly hurt you a lot more than you wanted to talk about or admit. Maybe in a few days once you worked it out yourself, maybe like always when you were ready to talk, you’d find Din, pass him a cup of tea and discuss what was really going on with you.

Luke let out a chuckle at his own spectacular failure, “It does look like that, doesn’t it.” He fixed his cloak, placing the hood back on his head, you weren’t ready to see him, that was much was clear. He’d give you time and space, and then he’d try again, hopefully with a different result, “They didn’t run away, they simply walked away for specific reasons.” He head towards the door, wanting to give you the one thing he could, the absence you long desired from him.

“What’s the reason?” Din wanted to know what happened, what was going on between you two.

Luke stopped in his tracks turning his head over his shoulder, if you hadn’t told Djarin about your past, it certainly wasn’t Luke’s place to fill him.

“You should ask your partner for that answer. Just tell …” Luke realized at that moment, he never actually explained why he was there. His nerves had gotten the better of him and rather than being the kind and compassionate person you needed, he turned into a giant idiot as Han liked to remind him.

He needed to apologize to you, properly, but today was not the day, you weren’t in a position to listen to what he had to say and he didn’t blame you, that was his own doing.

He let out a sigh, as he gave a final nod to the Mandalorian who seemed to be able to do the things he couldn’t.

“Just tell your partner, I’ll be back, and then we can talk about everything I didn’t get a chance to say. I apologize if what I said came out the wrong way.”

Din didn’t say anything as he watched the door close behind the Jedi as he walked away.

AO3 Link | OS & MS Master List | Main Master List

Previous -> Next

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24 @spicymcnuggies @lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @sarcasmismyonlydefense24 @tortor-mcgee @swissy23

#luke skywalker #din x reader #luke skywalker x reader #star wars #luke skywalker x you #din dijarin x reader #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #luke skywalker fanfiction #Luke skywalker fanfic #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #anon request #grogu #mando x you #mando x reader #mando fanfiction #darth vader

26 notes · View notes

armpirate · 8 months

Text

UNDER HIS SKIN || JJK || Ch. 32

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: They say there are two versions for every story, and it's important to hear both of them. Everybody is hearing your side of the story, but it's just fair to get to know his.

After breaking up with his girlfriend, the only thing he wanted was to have fun with no attachment. You wanted to get rid of your virginity, and he wanted to tick you off his list. What he didn't expect was getting so emotionally attached to you that he would regret the deal.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Chapter Warnings: protected vaginal sex, public sex, oral sex (female receiving), dirty talk, teasing.

While Mark and I are getting the studio ready, leaving everything settled so we can leave earlier, my phone buzzes inside my pocket. Puckering my lips, I do my best at keeping my smile to myself when I notice it's a text from Y/n. Although my smile drops, and I lock the screen again fast when I open her chat and I'm received with a revealing pic of her in underwear.

—Are you alright? —he asks, frowning while looking at me.

—Yeah —I scratch my nape—, but I need to go to the bathroom fast.

Shrugging, he just goes back to his thing, while I just walk fast to the bathroom in the studio so I can check the picture better.

I know I started the teasing game when I sent him a selfie of me at the gym earlier this morning, but this is too fucking much. The way that lace set embraces the curve of her hips, and the way that pink bra just cups her breasts so perfectly... It makes me think of how good they'd look if they were cupped by my hands instead.

I chuckle nervously when I read the text she sent before, asking how it looks on her and whether she should wear it tonight or not. And, honestly, that question better be because she's going to show me herself how good that set looks in person.

She's a fucking tease, and that's all I can think about the rest of the day -even when I'm on my way to the gallery to support her on her first day.

It takes me a short second to make every thought disappear, as soon as I see her through the big windows that allow anyone to take a peek inside the wide place full of people. Her hair is up on a not-so-worked bun that allows some of her locks to fall on her face, although it still allows her bright face to stand out. And that dress she's wearing could cut anyone's breath. The green silk hugs to her body as if it was a second skin, although the skirt still flies in the air every time she moves or makes a quick turn.

—Stop drooling and get inside —Soo teases me.

I give her an annoyed look when she makes that comment, but she still leads me inside the gallery, holding me by my arm -it's for nothing though, because she soon forgets about me when she joins Mark and Tammy greeting Y/n when they come in.

Her eyes stop on me after I step inside, and all I can do is make sure my suit is completely fixed and my messy tail is still in place.

The rest of the night, I'm unable to concentrate on the different drawings and works that are displayed, I'm too focused on Y/n to care about anything else around me. I don't even care about how obvious I might be making it for all of our friends.

At some point, our friends are just gathered together in a corner, while taking the drinks we were offered. I join them, but it's only for a few minutes, until I see Y/n finally alone. Her exposed back attracts my fingers, as if I wouldn't be able to resist the softness of her skin on my fingertips. I trace her spine delicately, seeing her head slightly tilting to the side as soon as I touch her.

—You're a tease —I mention—. You aren't wearing the set you sent me this afternoon.

When she turns to me, she looks nervous. All that confidence she probably thought she had when she sent the pic is long gone. And I can't really tell what side of her I like more.

—I would've loved to take it off with my teeth, with you lying on bed the same way you were on that pic.

She gulps hard, while her cheeks lighten with a powerful red. Seeing her flustered was all I wanted at that moment. And, after getting it, I step back again and walk around the place as if that conversation hadn't happened.

If she wanted to play, she should've known I was all in for it.

I found myself quite unbothered about Jin being around her a few times that night. At the end of the day, he's her boss and also the owner of the gallery. Clearly, he'd talk to her to guide her on any doubts that could come up. And honestly, I didn't think there would be a moment where I would miss seeing Jin being around her instead of other guys.

She seems to be getting back at me for everything I've done when we all decide to go for a few drinks to celebrate her first day. Y/n is having fun, drinking and dancing with Tammy, but my mind clouds when a random guy shows up out of nowhere and takes Tammy's place. His hands are all over the place, and even dare to touch her skin directly on her exposed back cleavage. But when she turns and she's finally looking at me... Oh fuck, she knows what she's doing and how much it's bothering me. A smirk proudly appears on her face while her hips sway with him, as soon as she's aware of the way my fists are clenched on my pants.

She doesn't know that would end bad for her though.

After whispering something to his ear, the boy leaves and she's back with Tammy and Mel, lately joining us three on the table.

When we all leave, Soo insists on Y/n coming with me so I can take her home. I swear my sister is the least sly person in the whole world.

But it's obvious Y/n didn't have enough with everything she did back in the club, because her hands keep wandering all over my body while we're waiting at a red light. She goes from my chest to my stomach, and keeps going lower until she reaches the beginning of my pants.

I try to move my mind away from her hands. The last thing I want right now is a growing bulge in my pants, because I know how difficult it's to ride this motorbike with one. She knows it could only take me one slight move to give in, and I know she wants it just as much because she keeps pushing me to the edge. All thos revealing pics, all those "supposed" dates she had -that always ended up on a girl's gathering at night, all the double meaning comments and texts...

—If you keep doing that, I won't be responsible for the consequences —I whisper, turning my head slightly to her.

—What consequences?

She looks at me over her shoulder, giving me an innocent look while her hand keeps going up and down my thigh. She always gets near to my crotch, but never enough to be able to touch by herself what she's causing.

—I'll stop anywhere and fuck you raw. Like you've been looking for all night.

I can feel her grinding on the seat on my back, before her palm presses on my covered cock at the same time her tongue plays with one of my earrings.

—What's stopping you?

That's right. Nothing.

As soon as the red light turns green, I speed up while looking for the right place to hide, until I manage to see a dark alley.

I've been deprived from her for long enough to not care about how desperate I look, messily setting the stand while I wait for her to hop off the motorbike.

I'm not the only one needy though, because Y/n cups my cheeks and pulls me in for a sloppy and furious kiss, with our tongues messing with one another, trying to get as much of each other's taste as possible. One of my hands cups her ass, while the other is on her waist, helping her to hop on my lap.

There's no playing around from neither of us, and even less when my cock twitches inside my pants when I first slide my fingers through her slit and find her ready for me. While she unzips my pants, I blindly take out my wallet, trying to find by touch one of the condoms I always bring with me just in case. It's not like I've ever used it since I met Y/n, but now I'm thankful to have brought it with me.

After wrapping myself with the latex, and while I'm still kissing her, I lift her body, cupping her ass cheeks again, while she aims my tip to her warm core. Lowering her body slowly, filling her inch by inch until we're completely linked, a warm feeling covers my chest when she wraps around me so perfectly.

Even if we're in the middle of a shitty alley, this has to be one of the best moments of my life.

I try to make her move, denting my fingers on her skin, but she just stays in that position, moving her hips in circles while her tongue teases all the soft spots in my neck and ear.

—What do you want?

—Cocktease... —I chuckle nervously— Don't try to make me beg, because I want to fuck you stupid the same way you want my cock buried deep down your cunt.

And I know I'm right when her pussy clenches tight around me after that comment.

I go dizzy by the way she moves on me while she's making my head do rounds during the kiss. It's giving me a hard time desperately trying to keep those groans and moans in my throat. And while I love every move she makes, I still need more.

—Babe —I stop her movements.

She slowly stops, wrapping her arms around my neck, giving me a concerned look as soon as she hears my voice.

—You're doing great, but I really need to fuck your brains out right now —I kiss her chin—. Turn around.

As much as I love feeling her that way, the constant sound of cars and the sudden whistle of a horn brings me back to reality. We're still in the middle of the street, fucking, because we were unable to hold it to ourselves any longer, we should end it before we get caught. Although I'm still planning on taking my time when we're back to her -or my- place.

She hops off, but hops back on in a reversed direction, her back facing me while she holds onto the handlebar. I move her body, positioning her in a way that could be comfortable for her while lifting her dress and my blazer to expose her ass. I slide her panties to the side, the most I'm able to so I can rub my tip on her entrance again.

I slide in slowly, inch by inch again so she can get used to my size. It takes me a sigh from her to move just the way I was planning to, pounding into her as if cumming was a live or die thing, too focused on the way she feels hugging me tight to even care about anything else.

—Nobody else will fuck you like this, baby. I'm the only one that can make you feel this good —I groan, after bending down over her body.

Just like I want to reach my high, I want her to reach hers. That's why I cup her hips and lower them, while also making her back arch a bit more. On the next thrust, her hips are colliding against the sit, and I know her clit is also throbbing against the leather when some moans escape her lip, forcing me to cover her mouth with my hand.

—You know I love your moans, but save them for later —I excuse myself.

I can still hear the pleasure sounds that come from her though, drowned by my palm, while the squeaking sound of her pussy milking me is barely audible while I pound into her. A few seconds later, a familiar feeling runs over my spine and makes my hips buckle harder against her, feeling my release running over me without being able to avoid it.

But of course I'm not done yet.

I drag her on my lap when I sit back properly in my place, one hand still covering her mouth while the other rubs circles on her clit, feeling her whole body squirm and grind on me before her head falls back on my shoulder and a loud moan comes from her.

—You think I'm done with you? —I ask, two of my fingers grabbing her chin to force her to look at me— No, this was just the starter so you stop teasing me while I drive. I think you've had enough fun these two weeks. It's my turn.

I lovingly cap my hand on her thigh, trying to comfort her, while I see her still trying to recover from her high. Our lips are linked together again, but this time is softer and slower, just letting her know I'm there at the same time I place her underwear and clothes properly, doing the same thing with mine right after.

Once we're back in the lift of my building, it looks like we've been glued in that same position. And probably we would if we could. Although all of that stops when she's able to see her reflection in the mirror when we break the kiss.

—You, asshole, look at what you did.

—Should I kiss it better? —I raise my eyebrows.

Biting her shoulder was the only thing keeping me from moaning when I cummed in the alley. And I'm definitely not regretful of it.

We both try to get comfortable when we get to my apartment, with both of us taking our shoes off before I head to the kitchen to get something to drink. And her answer, to the question of what she wants right now, makes me cackle.

—You.

—Me? You want to drink me? —I walk in her direction again.

—I was trying to sound flirty.

Lifting her body, just to place it on the backrest of my couch, I start caressing her thighs, losing myself to the sensation of how warm she feels.

—You don't need to be flirty with me —I whisper on her lips—. You already got me wrapped around your finger.

Her dress is long gone at some point, and I'm finally able to see she did wear part of the lingerie she sent me -I was just too focused, and it was too dark, to be able to appreciate it back in the alley. That color suits her so much, it actually make sher look sexy and innocent at the same time.

My hands keep moving up over her torso, my fingers setting a burning trail in between her tits until I get to her jaw. They wrap around her skin carefully, holding her face before I kiss her in the softest way I've probably ever done. She traces my lip with the tip of her tongue, only because she wanted to lick that lip ring that makes her go insane. Maybe I should add a second one...

—You have no idea the pull you have on me —I move lower on her, following the trail of the caresses from minutes ago—. I've gone crazy these last two weeks.

The difference in the angle I'm seeing her plays ill with my mind, before I stop my mouth on her thong. She just lifts her hips, supporting her weight with both of the hands resting on the couch. Biting on her mound, I start to pull the fabric down her legs, getting rid of it. My lips start another trail of kisses, from her ankle to her inner thigh, soon filling my nostrils with the smell of her own arousal as I get closer to her core.

I give her a teasing lick on her clit, making her instantly arch her back and tighten her fists on the backrest, before I dig my tongue deeper between her folds. I just want to get a quick taste, before I'm standing up again, still spreading kisses all over her body. I cup her pussy with my palm when I'm finally standing up in between her thighs, two of my fingers teasing her entrance while my tongue draws circles on one of her nipples, switching from one to another.

—What do you want? —I ask, going back to her lips.

—Fuck me —she traces my tattoos with the tips of her fingers—. Make me regret these two weeks.

Oh shit, there's nothing I'd like to do more right now.

I take my clothes off, holding the packed condom in between my teeth while I try my best at getting naked fast. Y/n also helps me, unzipping my pants and lowering my underwear so my hard cock is already springing free against her inner thigh.

I slide in with just one move, head resting on hers while my hands hold her in her place. I don't go as fast as I did before, I want to taste every rub of her walls, every squeeze and every heavy breath as if they were the last ones.

—Keep your eyes on me —I command, getting ready to move a bit faster on her.

—Kook —she moans at the same time I move her body towards the edge of the backrest.

—Look at you right now —I breathe heavily—. Such a fucking mess for me.

And I'm so fucking in love with the view.

I recognize the look on her face, and the way her eyes are half closed while her lips are parted and accompanied by one moan after the other. The clear squeak sound of my cock filling her while my fingers rub her clit keep pushing her towards the edge, making her move her body as if she weren't able to do anything else.

—Uh-huh, see how good this pussy is taking me.

Her legs wrap tight around my waist, and both of her hands cup my face, looking at me deep in my eyes before she finally lets herself go with a high-pitched moan.

We are far from done.

I lift her in the air, legs still wrapped around my waist, after I got rid of my pants with a quick kick that sent them far. Although something changes while I make my way to the bedroom and set her on the bed.

The thought of somebody being able to see what I'm seeing, or even being looked at by her the way I am right now... How the fuck did I ever think I'd accept it? I want her, I need her; and I want Y/n to want me and need me just the same way, only me.

I fuck her slowly, sinking into her as if I tried to be able to pay attention to every single reaction of her body to me, trying to get drunk of her.

Fuck the deal, and fuck everything I thought would be right.

—I can't stand thinking of others seeing you like this —I admit, breaking the soft kiss we were in—. I want to be the only one making you go crazy with my hands, my mouth, my cock. I don't care —I bite her chin—. But I want to be the only one.

I need to be her only one.

#fanfic #ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #wattpad #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #tattoistjk #tattooau #jungkook pov #Under His Skin #reader insert #armpirate

26 notes · View notes

twoidiotwriters1 · 3 months

Text

The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: This gif is the perfect visual for the chapter I love it. And also happy birthday Nico ig -Danny Words: 2,237 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: '305' -by Shawn Mendes

VII: I'm Gonna Wing It (Famous Lasts Words)

Ara is keeping an eye on the nymphs while Leo gets a makeover from Hazel and Echo. Ara's considering slashing her way through the crowd, which is far easier and faster than what Leo wants to do, when he comes out fully changed.

"We're ready."

"Alright—" Ara covers her mouth to stop herself from laughing. She looks at Leo wide-eyed, unable to play it cool.

"I know," the boy puts welding goggles on, sounding as uncomfortable as he looks. "Would you still love me if I looked like this all the time?"

Ara's voice is muffled by her hand. "I'd have to think about it."

"Awesome," he grumbles. "C'mon..."

Once they reach the pond, Leo starts shouting.

"Leo is the coolest!"

"Leo is the coolest!" Echo repeats.

"Yeah, baby, check me out!"

Ara clears her throat. "Y-Yeah, he's... so cute!"

"Get it together!" Leo whispers grumpily.

"He's so awesome!" She tries again, struggling to keep a straight face. "Look at him!"

"Look at him!" Echo cheers.

"Make way for the king!" Two minutes ago he was acting like he loathed the idea, but right now he doesn't seem to hate it much. "Narcissus is weak!"

"Weak!"

"Leo is the twentieth-century Adonis!" Ara claims.

"No autographs, girls. I know you want some Leo time, but I'm way too cool," he disperses the crowd. "You better just hang around that ugly dweeb Narcissus. He's lame!"

"Lame!" Echo clamors.

"He's sooo boring," Ara sighs.

"What are you talking about?" A nymph scowls.

"You're lame!" Yells another one.

"You know how ugly Narcissus is?" Leo continues. "He's so ugly, when he was born his mama thought he was a backward centaur—with a horse butt for a face."

The group of nymphs gasps in horror. Ara's starting to have fun with the skit, and if there's something invariant about her, is that she loves putting on a show.

"You know why his bow has cobwebs?" Leo counts. "He uses it to hunt for dates, but he can't find one!"

"Leo's the real catch, ladies!" Ara adds a telemarketer tone to her charmspeak, which tends to make it more efficient. "This is your one chance to get him!"

The nymphs start to get antsy, they don't wanna miss out.

"Who are you?" Narcissus frowns, though he's still staring at himself.

"I'm the Super-sized McShizzle, man! I'm Leo Valdez, bad boy supreme. And the ladies love a bad boy."

"Love a bad boy!" Echo squeals.

"Narcissus is a loser! He's so weak, he can't bench-press a Kleenex. He's so lame, when you look up lame on Wikipedia, it's got a picture of Narcissus—only the picture's so ugly, no one ever checks it out."

"What are you talking about?" Narcissus looks up frowning. "I am amazing. Everyone knows this."

"Amazing at pure suck," Leo taunts him. "If I was as suck as you, I'd drown myself. Oh wait, you already did that."

Ara laughs, it's so contagious that the nymphs feel compelled to join her. The whole group of girls giggles and Narcissus looks a little less cool and collected. Ara spent so much time with the nymphs when she was little, that she knows exactly how to turn them against him.

"Narcissus's such a dull guy! Leo is an adventurer, he has a thousand stories to entertain you forever!" There's a choir of ah's, and oh's at this, and she keeps going like reciting a fairytale. "He has a ship the size of this island! Leo knows everything and can build anything! He's a genius!"

Leo's delighted with Ara's description of him, he stares at the girl with a lovesick gaze—though Ara can't see it through his goggles—and forgets he's supposed to be distracting Narcissus too.

"He's the funniest guy you'll ever meet!" Ara continues. "And when he laughs, it's really cute too!"

"Really cute," Echo agrees dreamily, Ara's words getting to her as well.

"He's not great with words, but he's sincere and..." She stares at him, her skin glowing. "He loves with his whole heart. Even if sometimes you're mean for no reason."

"Don't say that," Leo replies in a soft-spoken tone. "You're good."

They lock eyes for a moment, and then she gives a start, remembering they were in the middle of a heist. "So, yeah!" She turns to the nymphs. "Did I mention he has a bronze dragon?"

Leo snaps out of it too. "Wow, honestly, I am so awesome!"

"So awesome!" Echo claps excitedly.

"He is funny," a nymph agrees, touched by Ara's monologue. "And he is interesting."

"And cute, in a scrawny way," another one adds.

"Scrawny? Baby, I invented scrawny. Scrawny is the new sizzling hot. And I GOT the scrawny. Narcissus? He's such a loser even the Underworld didn't want him. He couldn't get the ghost girls to date him."

"Eww," a nymph wrinkles her nose.

"Eww!" Echo repeats enthusiastically.

"Stop!" Narcissus gets up. "This is not right! This person is obviously not awesome, so he must be... He must be tricking us." He looks back to the water. "The bronze mirror is gone! My reflection! Give me back to me!"

"Team Leo!" A nymph shouts randomly.

"I'm the beautiful one!" Narcissus states. "He's stolen my mirror, and I'm going to leave unless we get it back!"

"There!" One fangirl points to Hazel, running as fast as she can while carrying the big chunk of metal.

"Go!" Ara hurries to seize Leo.

"Get it back!" A nymph squeals.

"Yes! The first one who gets that bronze, I will like you almost as much as I like me. I might even kiss you, right after I kiss my reflection!"

The nymphs lost it at that.

"Leo, run!" Ara pushes him forward.

"Kill those demigods!" Narcissus orders. "They are not as cool as me!"

Ara insults him in ancient Greek, gesturing something so rude that some nymphs clutch their imaginary pearls. "Stand back or I'll slash your signed posters!" She threatens them.

Leo and her reach Hazel, and the boy picks up a side of the celestial bronze so they run faster. Ara draws out Almighty and presses on the alpha twice, turning it into a spear that keeps the nymphs at a proper distance.

Arion is nowhere to be seen yet. Hazel hands Leo the chunk of metal and stands next to Ara with her sword in hand, Echo opens her arms protectively in front of Leo, she's got no weapons but looks determined to protect him.

"Echo?" Leo speaks in a voice full of esteem. "You're one brave nymph."

"Brave nymph?" She looks at him over her shoulder.

"I'm proud to have you on Team Leo," the boy tells her. "If we survive this, you should forget Narcissus."

"Forget Narcissus?" She hesitates.

"You're way too good for him."

Ara can't believe Leo is giving a nymph self-love advice. He's not the same boy he was six months ago when she had to constantly hype him up after every little mistake. Maybe that's why he thought Narcissus could change, even after all these centuries. Perhaps that applies to her too.

Arion comes out of nowhere and lifts a cloud of lime around Narcissus and his group of fans, giving them enough time to escape. Ara helps Hazel to get on the horse and then she goes up. Leo pushes the celestial bronze up so the girls can hold it in place.

"I love this horse!" He laughs.

The nymphs collapse, coughing and gagging. Narcissus stumbles around, swinging his bow like trying to hit a piñata. Ara tries to pick up Leo, but he steps back.

"We can't leave Echo!"

"Leave Echo," the nymph replies.

Leo turns to her in disbelief. "Why? You don't think you can still save Narcissus..."

"Save Narcissus," she stated confidently.

Leo tries to argue, but Echo kisses his cheek and then pushes him closer to the horse. Maybe Ara isn't the jealous type after all, 'cause that interaction doesn't bother her in the slightest. Forget the bad boys, Leo is the kind of boy no one takes seriously, but if you give him a chance, he never lets you down, that's what girls truly love.

Maybe that's the reason why they're a good team, because Ara is a troublemaker, and Leo is a troubleshooter.

"Leo, come on!" Hazel urges him.

"Yeah," he swallows, struggling to tear his eyes away from Echo. "Yeah, okay."

Ara pulls him up and he holds onto her waist. She holds the Celestial bronze with one arm while holding onto Hazel with the other, and Arion takes them away.

Leo slips off the horse and Ara jumps off right after. As he struggles to steady the sheet of bronze, the girl grabs his face and plants a kiss on his lips.

"I'd love you even if you looked like this every day," she grins. "I don't think you'd ever have to worry about your looks as long as you keep doing good things like what you tried to do for Echo and Narcissus."

Leo's body lights up like a match and the celestial bronze slips off his grip, but Ara catches it before it slams on the ground. Hazel helps them take the chunk of metal below decks, and they try not to make noise near Jason's room, but as they walk past, they discover he's awake.

"Hi, Ken!" Ara beams. "So happy you're back. You've been in a coma for—"

"Gods of Olympus!" Piper makes a face when she sees Leo. "What happened to you?"

"Long story," he takes off the goggles. "Others back?"

"Not yet."

"Dammit," Leo looks at Jason and smiles. "Hey, man! Glad you're better. I'll be in the engine room."

"Tell the others to take the stuff there once they're back!" Ara tells them, following Leo out of the hall.

They place the sheet of bronze on a table, and unbeknownst to Leo, she stares at him with glossy loving doe-eyes while he starts working. Annabeth and Frank show up soon after looking even messier than them.

"I thought we'd gotten the worst deal," Ara smirks. "Glad to see I was wrong."

"I'll take care of the engine, Ara, see what you can do to fix the shell," Leo focuses on the task, but his tone is warm when he speaks to her.

"Alright," Ara leans closer to kiss his cheek, then notices the lipstick stain Echo left there and moves away smirking. She doesn't wipe it off. "See you in a bit!" She kisses his temple instead.

Ara inspects the deck: the foresail is clearly the priority, so she grabs a tool belt—not as cool as Leo's but still gets the job done—a pair of safety gloves, and pulls down the heavy fabric to fix it.

A few feet away from her, Percy is directing the waters so the nymphs can't get any closer. She knows he'll try to talk to her again, but she's in a better mood now, so she's willing to listen. After half an hour, her brother approaches.

"Need help?"

"Pull that side?" Percy obliges, but Ara can feel him staring. "If you've got something to say, now's the time, Nemo."

"I want to know how it happened..." He says right away. "You and Leo."

Ara glances at him, trying to decode what he means by that. "Like it always happens, I guess. Two people meet, they catch feelings, and date."

"I know how that works," he frowns. "But I don't get it. You weren't interested in dating for so long and then—"

Ara snorts. "I never sworn out of love, you know? I didn't have a reason to be interested in it until now. It's that simple."

"So Leo showed up and that was enough to change your mind?"

"Yeah?" Ara raises a brow. "I fell in love, Percy. It was bound to happen one day. You were all expecting it. In fact, I think some of you were eager to see it happen."

"Not really," he frowns. "I was okay with how things were."

Ara looks away flustered. It's alright when she talks about it with her friends, but to admit her feelings in front of Percy is a whole different thing. She's embarrassed, perhaps even a little humiliated, though she doesn't know why.

"You're sure you're in love?" Percy asks worryingly. "You barely know him—"

"I've been dating him for six months," she scowls, focusing on sewing the fabric. "You and Annabeth dated four months before you went missing, and you never said I love you to each other?"

Percy's body lights up red, but he's blushing a lot. Ara stops what she's doing to look at him.

"You never..." she starts with genuine shock. "Wow. You guys are milking it down for all its worth, huh?"

"That's not the point," Percy dismisses it. "I'd known Annabeth for years, and I have reasons not to trust Leo—"

"Are you kidding me?" Ara finishes the patching up and stands. "You don't even know half of what he's done for me! You, out of all people, should be grateful that he's got my back. But why would you, right? You want me to fail so you can say 'I told you so.'"

Percy makes a face. "You don't know what you're saying."

"Really?" She continues heatedly. "The way you call me 'General' like it's a game, and how I have to ask you more than once to do things because you don't listen to me. Bringing you along, it's only making things harder for me."

"What?" He asks, looking stunned. "No—"

"Just be honest," Ara looks at her brother with frustration. "Do you think I'm weaker than you?"

Percy's speechless. "I... I know you've grown, but you're still—"

"We grew up together, Percy. I got older at the same time as you did, and you keep forgetting that. You also forget that it's been half a year since you last saw me," she starts setting the foresail back in its place. "Don't question my decisions ever again, or I'll make sure you don't forget who's in charge."

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @asnyox-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez fanfic #doo

14 notes · View notes

someone-elsa · 8 months

Text

(part 1 of 4)

🔙 Chapter beginning ⬅ Previous chapter • Next part ➡ 📝 About the story and characters

The whole chapter (with bigger pictures!) can be found on Blogger already ;) Check the Blogger post for a short recap too.

It was the first warm spring day; warm enough for one to change into a bathing suit and hang out at a pool. And not just any pool, Heath had a membership to a luxurious rooftop club. He had invited his family to enjoy the view and warm water with him and Paige. Paige had hoped they would've gone together, just the two of them but she was accustomed to having his family around. And spending time with both of her parents made Gracie happy, and Paige didn't mind Gracie being happy.

Paige had asked River to tag along but she had been busy. It had happened a lot lately. River didn't seem busy, though, it almost felt like she was avoiding to come along as often as usual. Sometimes she agreed to come but cancelled at the last minute. When Paige had asked if everything was alright, River had made jokes and assured there was nothing to worry about. Paige wasn't completely convinced but she didn't want to be nosy.

Her luck with Alex hadn't been any better. Unsurprisingly, he had come up with some obvious excuse to avoid spending time with so many people. "You'd benefit from a little break!" she had said. "I have my books for that," he had said and shrugged. She had made him promise to join her next time.

Paige had thought of bringing her work laptop along and doing some research for Autumn products and ad campaigns but Heath had convinced her to focus on relaxing. He couldn't convince himself, though. He had done work-related calls for two hours and there seemed to be no end.

She had time to catch up on celebrity gossip. Judith Ward shared her thoughts on her career and her five marriages and whether she would get married again. I love how unapolectic she is, Paige thought. People can be so nasty about her personal life and she doesn't give a damn.

Venessa Jeong had been arguing with Judith's daughter Catalina (who was an aspiring DJ and influencer™) because they were after the same man. Their feud had been going on for some time and gossip hungry public loved it. And so did the magazines. C*ntalina should keep her eyes off of my man! There's plenty of single men for her to flirt with, Venessa answered to the magazine. When asked for a response, Catalina had just laughed childlishly and said they were living in a free country. Eventually he'll come to his senses and realise who's the funniest to be around...

All that money and fame and still they have such mundane problems. But it's nice to see that their life isn't perfect either...

Heath's ex Martina had been busy after their divorce. And during the marriage, if Paige had understood correctly. During the time Paige had known her, Martina had introduced several more or less serious partners. The current one was young model Andy who wasn't the brightest crayon in the box but had a heart of gold. Even though they had known for only a short while, Martina and Andy's relationship seemed more stable than the others. It had potential for a long-term relationship while it didn't feel shared mortgage level serious.

Paige wondered where her and Heath's relationship was heading. She wanted something serious eventually, get married, maybe a kid or two… She just wasn't a hundred percent sure if Heath was the one. He was a good partner and all but he was… experienced. He had almost completed his family life cycle and Paige hadn't even started. His daughter was almost an adult already, would he want to start over with a baby anymore? And even if he wanted, wouldn't it be weird? They hadn't deeply discussed their future plans yet but Paige knew it was something they should discuss. She just felt very uneasy about it.

Notes: I'm thinking of sharing that magazine pose accessory I made for this chapter. But it only has that one swatch! Anyone interested in making some more?

This time I post the chapter in larger chunks. Easier for me but is it better or worse for you? Or indifferent? Should I hide part of the post under the cut? Let me know what you think :)

#ts4 #the sims 4 #something about us by someone elsa #sau chapters #ts4 storytelling #sau chapter 41 #sau sims story #sims story #simblr #ts4 simblr #ts4 story #sims 4 story

21 notes · View notes

minervadashwood · 8 months

Text

Daryl Dixon x NB!Reader (afab, plus-size) 🏹 Daryl x Reader x Rick 🛡️

The Cop and the Criminal - Chapter 25

~~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Taglist

~~~~~~~~

Summary: Zombie apocalypse? In my romantic story? It may be sooner than you think. This chapter contains: mentions of alcohol, the use of firearms, and canon-typical violence. Note: This story takes place around 2010, at a time when cell phone videos were pretty shitty. Word count: 2.5K

“This shit don’t make no sense,” Merle mumbled, tying his boots.

Jesus squatted in front of him, eye level. “It may not make any sense to you , but that doesn’t make it any less real for them.”

Merle furiously tied his laces. “What you wan’ from me? Just kowtow to Officer Friendly and let ‘im embarrass my brother?”

Jesus sighed, tired of having this conversation. However, Merle was not nearly as argumentative today as he had been when Daryl first told him.

Jesus placed his hands on Merle’s knees. “I don’t have a problem with you sleeping around. Same goes for you when it comes to me. How is this any different?”

Merle leaned back and sighed. “‘Cause it is. Daryl don’t deserve to share Peanut with nobody.”

Jesus stood up, hiding his smile. As rough and angry as Merle might be, the man cared about his brother. Almost to a fault.

“I think that’s for Daryl to decide,” Jesus replied, helping Merle to his feet.

Carl begged to push the button for your doorbell, so Rick let him. A minute later, Daryl swung open the door, his hair disheveled and only one sock on his feet.

“Hey…uh…come on in. Y/N’s uh…they’re uh--”

Rick smirked at his friend, needing no further hints to guess what you’d been up to. Daryl was awash in your scent, half-dressed, and blushing.

“Daryl!” Carl exclaimed. “Do you want to see my checker set? It’s brand new!”

“I-uh…”

Rick ruffled Carl’s hair. “Let’s get upstairs first.”

The three of them were in the living room, Daryl now with both socks on, when you came down the hallway.

Carl had thoroughly trapped Daryl into a demonstration of each dinosaur-emblazoned checker, so Rick turned his attention to you.

“Hi,” you said, smiling.

Rick swept you up in a tight hug, first kissing your cheek and then holding you against his chest. “Up to no good, Omega?” he whispered. “Was it Daryl’s idea or yours?”

“Mine,” you grinned, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Open invitation for you to join us anytime.”

“Soon,” he said, lowering his voice. “Very soon, my eager Bunny.”

“Promise?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“I want a hug, too!” Carl announced, and suddenly he was futilely trying to pull Rick off you.

However, you let go and squat down, ignoring Rick, and giving Carl a gentle hug.

“Got a big day planned for us?” you asked the little boy.

“Yes, checkers! Will you teach me to play? And at two DinoTown comes on, and will you make me PB&J but without the J?”

You rose up, and Rick put his arm around the small of your back. He gestured to the bag he’d brought up. “Lunch is already made. Snacks, too. Are you sure you’re okay with this? Maybe we can reschedule for next weekend when Lori has him.”

“Rick,” you said, putting a hand on his chest. “This is fine. You two will be a phone call away. Besides, everyone needs this. I need to spend time with Carl, you need to spend time with Ro and Merle. It’s the next step, isn’t it? For us?”

“Yeah, but I hate leaving you alone.”

“Well, I’m not going to the shooting range unless you want a basket-case on your hands, and Carl is way too young.”

Daryl slid up next to you and kissed your cheek. “Bubbie’ll be alright, Rick. Checked the weather and no storms headed this way. Lots of food, DVDs. Besides, ain’t it cute? Thinking of ‘em with yer pup? At home waitin’ for us?”

You turned your head into Daryl’s chest. “Come home safe, and not too drunk, please.”

“Promise,” Daryl said. He hugged you, then so did Rick, and they both left the house. Neither one voiced how much they wanted to stay, though they felt it keenly. But today was for the pack as a whole, and Rick especially was determined to make all of this work.

At the shooting range, Rick paid the admission fee for all of them, using his membership discount. Daryl, Merle, and “Jesus” had to read and sign legal disclaimers, and Rick took the opportunity to study each of them.

Jesus--or Ro, depending on who you asked--was a young sharp-eyed man clad in a trench coat and not carrying any guns of his own. Merle, now a few years older than his mugshot, with even less hair and a patchy, white winter beard growing in, stood next to Daryl, who was grumbling at his brother.

“Ya ain’t had a drink yet? It says here ya can’t be under the influence.”

Jesus looked up at the brothers. “He’s good. Promise.”

A moment passed and Daryl spoke up again. “None of that crazy shit today. Ya point yer gun at anything but the target an’ you’ll be sorry.”

Merle scoffed. “I ain’t shot nobody yet. Don’t get yer panties in a twist.”

Daryl glared at his brother.

Merle shrugged. “‘M doin’ this fer Peanut, an’ I guess they’re too fond of all y’all fer me to get up to much anyway.”

Rick hid his smile by pretending to scratch his nose. He was more worried about Merle than anything, but if the guy already had a soft spot for you, then maybe that worry was misplaced.

Hours later, with multiple rounds of spent ammunition and competitive boasting later, one thing was clear: Jesus had the steadiest hand in all of Georgia.

“Kid knows how to handle big guns,” Merle announced, putting his arm around Jesus’s shoulders, drawing the younger man close to him.

Daryl looked on, and Rick noticed the slightest softening of his friend’s features, the changes revealing that Daryl was happy for Merle. And that made Rick happy, too.

Next, they drove to a nearby bar and grill, where everyone but Daryl had a few beers, and they all shared multiple courses of appetizers.

The late afternoon spilled into the evening, and Rick began to feel that tangible connection to his new pack. The inherent balance among them: two betas, one blustery, the other calm. It was no wonder Merle and Jesus had fallen in together. Then there was Daryl and Rick himself. The introverted, anxious alpha contrasted with Rick’s extroverted confidence.

Finally, you, tying them together.

Sitting at the table with the others, Rick’s patience began to wear thin. It’d been too long since he and Daryl had said goodbye earlier today. What’s more, Rick was tired of waiting, tired of forcing himself to be patient. You were his mate , and it was clear to him now that his caution had become an unnecessary impediment.

Across the table, Jesus was leaning tipsily on Merle’s shoulder, halfheartedly eating the last of the cheddar fries. However, beside Rick was Daryl, knee bouncing and eyes glancing around the room.

Perhaps he was as eager to leave as Rick was.

“Ready to get home to our omega?” Rick asked.

“Mmm,” Daryl grunted, reaching for his wallet and pulling out the cash to pay the bill. “Le’s go.”

After Daryl had dropped Jesus and Merle off in the city, he got back on the highway and headed home.

Rick was sober enough to drive, but Daryl was the official DD for the evening, so Rick didn’t protest.

About halfway home, though, they came to a roadblock that was just now getting set up, giving Rick a clear view of a two-vehicle accident that took up both lanes. Floodlights and headlights shone on the scene in the winter darkness.

“Fuck,” Daryl mumbled, putting the truck into park. “How long’s this gonna take?”

“I’ll find out,” Rick replied, getting out and taking out his badge. As he got closer to the scene, he quickly realized the victims were dead. A woman’s head was halfway through her windshield in one car, while in the other car, a man slumped in the driver’s seat, his white skin gray and pale, his open eyes lifeless.

It looked like the man slammed into the woman’s car, killing them both with the impact.

“Hey fellas,” he said to the officers on the scene. “Need any help?”

The person in charge, a square and bulky woman with blond hair up in a tight bun shook her head. “Not unless you can get the morgue guys here any faster.”

Rick actually hadn’t seen his share of dead bodies in his work for King’s County. He’d seen a few, and that meant standing in the roadway right now, the sight made him queasy and on edge.

“Was it a heart attack or something?”

“Not sure,” she mumbled, then answered a question from one of the other officers.

Behind the barricade, a small crowd was gathering, some with cell phones out, taking photos and videos of the scene. Rick glanced back at Daryl, who remained in the truck. Rick met his eyes, and suddenly Daryl was pointing at him.

At the same time a voice cried out, “Sergeant!”

Rick turned to see the blonde police woman on high alert, reflexively drawing her sidearm.

A collective gasp tore through the small crowd. Rick took a few steps back, not sure what to do since he was unarmed and unprotected. He watched as the peaked man shambled out of his car and fell onto all fours on the hard pavement. The sergeant lowered her weapon as the man got to his feet. He let out a gurgled growl and lunged for the nearest police officer. In their panic, the officer shot off their weapon into the man’s torso, yet he didn’t stop. He yanked on the officer’s shoulders and bit into their cheek.

Horrified Rick backed up even more, panic rising in his chest, alpha senses on high alert: protect and defend.

But all he could do was watch as all the uniformed officers opened fire on the stumbling man. Bullets flew through his body. Yet it was many long seconds before he finally fell to the ground, his body unable to stand any longer. Still, the gurgling never ceased. He lay face down on the road, his jaw flapping and that sickening sound incessant.

One last shot impaled the man’s head. Then all was silent.

“Rick, we gotta get the fuck outta here.”

Rick let out a sudden breath, stunned to find Daryl standing next to him.

“I should stay and--” Rick protested.

“They need us. Now .” Daryl interrupted. “C’mon I know a back way home.”

Rick glanced back at the sergeant, who was treating her young officer’s facial wound. At the same time, he felt an urging insistence from his inner alpha to get back to you, his mate.

Without another word, both men got back in the truck, and Daryl peeled the vehicle off the highway and onto the shoulder, going back about half a mile to a turnoff down a dusty one-lane road.

By the time they were back to the Chalets it was nearing eight at night, and Rick followed Daryl inside, every instinct on high alert, and vaguely sensing your distress, a whisper compared to what Daryl felt since Rick had yet to claim you.

Daryl barrelled through the kitchen door, and you were there, falling into his arms and shaking. Rick closed the door behind him, and then you reached your hand, grabbing his.

“Carl’s asleep,” you whispered. “Have you seen the news?”

“What news?” Daryl asked, pulling away to look down at you.

“A man--he tried to eat someone. A police officer . “

Rick slipped his hand from yours and left you with Daryl. In the living room, he saw Carl fast asleep under a knitted afghan, and the television was on, the volume low. On screen were a series of grainy videos captured on flip phones and smartphones, each a different angle of the very scene he witnessed. The news reporters’ voiceovers tried to explain the scene, questioning what they actually saw.

They concluded it was drug-related, and police backed up this claim, according to their sources.

But Rick knew what he had seen. No drug could account for a man standing up to a spray of bullets from multiple police officers. The videos also didn’t capture the inhuman sounds the man had made, the very memory of that gurgling wail was not something Rick was likely to ever forget.

Distantly, he heard you and Daryl in the living room.

“It’s okay, Bubbie,” Daryl whispered, bringing Rick’s attention away from the TV. He found the remote and turned it off, all the shoulds and supposed to ’s of his job flitting through his mind.

Yet, he couldn't stomach the thought of going back out there, of leaving you and Carl. Besides, this was not something a King’s County deputy had any jurisdiction over.

“Go to Rick now, okay?” Daryl told you, meeting Rick’s eyes. “I gotta unload the truck and lock up.”

Rick nodded, and reached for you. He led you down the hallway, toward your nest. You hung onto him with both hands, trembling, but not crying or whimpering, at least not yet.

“I was so worried about you,” you told him, at the threshold of the bedroom. “Daryl was--I’d never felt him like that--and--I’m just glad you’re safe and here. What happened on your way home?”

Rick pressed you up against the wall, drawing close and resting his forehead on yours. “I’m sorry I had you worried. I just wanted to help.”

“Help? With what?”

Rick began to explain. “What you saw on TV…we were there, right at the road block. I was offering to help when--” Rick stopped short, unsure how to explain just what happened. “When that man attacked someone.”

“You were there?” You grabbed at his shirt. “So what I felt was you and Daryl--so close to it--and you--”

“I wanted to help,” Rick repeated. “And they had it under control until he got out of the car. Everyone thought he was dead, but I guess not.”

Your lower lip trembled.

“Hush, Bunny,” he commanded you, and you remained silent. “We’re fine now, aren’t we? Me and Daryl.”

You shook your head and bit your lip.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s nothing,” you replied, clearly trying to control yourself.

Rick kissed your forehead and ran his hands up and down your sides, trying to comfort you.

“I’m selfish,” you whispered after a moment. “I just want you home and safe. But that’s not who you are. It’s your job to be out there.”

“Not tonight.”

You blinked up at him, eyes questioning.

Rick cupped your jaw and moved his thumbs over your cheeks. “Tonight, you get to be selfish.”

“I do?”

Rick nodded, and leaned down to kiss the corner of your mouth. Then, he whispered in your ear. “And so do I.”

Next chapter.

If you want to be on the taglist, fill out this form.

@livingdeadblondequeen @phoenixblack89 @green-eyedladywrites @in-this-minute @takeabreathdeath @ravendixon @gypsytraveler86-blog @xojdmasf @daisy107 @angelrenee239 @sleepyamaya @no-tresspassing @carol @taintedxkisses @bl4ckt00thgr1n @glitch0o0 @micheleamidalajedi @lonelywolfheart @jad3djay @catholicraisin @harringtonstudios @brittney69 @littlelovebug98 @aureolinb @aeriean @your-momahoe316 @gracefulsunflower @strnqer @meganmayhem89 @quarksnuts @Nano_owl @halfdeadie @crissys-dead @plaguerat44 @madislayyy @xjust-existingx

21 notes · View notes

demonsanddemogorgons · 10 months

Text

Sunny in Philadelphia - A Joseph Quinn Story (Chapter 9)

*****THIS PART CONTAINS SMUT/MATURE CONTENT. MINORS DNI*****

(I told y’all it was coming! If you’ve been waiting for it, it’s here!)

Chapter 9 - A Night in Steel City

“Where are we going, darling?” Joe asked from the passenger seat as you exited the airport parking lot.

“I’m taking you to a popular Pittsburgh place to eat. Burgatory.”

“Burgatory?”

“If you like pubs, I think you’ll really like it! They, obviously from their name, have burgers, and different bar food. The best thing is the milkshakes, and you can get them alcoholic, too.”

“That sounds amazing, love.”

“It’s nothing fancy, though.”

“I don’t need fancy. I just want to be with you, darling.” He reached over to your free hand that was rested on your lap and intertwined his fingers with yours. You smiled at him, pulling your joined hands up to your lips and planting a kiss on his hand.

Joe absolutely loved Burgatory. He downed an alcoholic milkshake faster than he’d like to admit, and genuinely seemed to enjoy the food, but you weren’t sure if it was because he really liked it or if he was just hungry from being on a plane for 3 hours.

“We’re going to come here again someday, right?”

You chuckled at his excitement.

“Of course, honey. Whenever you want.”

An ornery grin appeared on his face.

“Oh, you really shouldn’t have said that. I’ll take full advantage of it,” he laughed.

“Let’s go,” you said with a giggle and an eye roll, shaking your head at him and pulling him towards the exit, while he jokingly pretended to rush to suck the very bottom of his milkshake out of the straw, as if you were making him leave without finishing it. He needed one last sip, even if there was none left.

You started heading towards your next destination for the evening, the Mount Washington incline. It was beginning to get dark at that point, which was perfect timing. The view of the Pittsburgh skyline from the top of Mount Washington was absolutely breathtaking at night. You parked at the bottom of the incline and got out of the car, Joe joining you and linking your hands once you rounded the car to the sidewalk. You went to the ticket booth and bought two round-trip incline tickets.

“Darling, I can take care of this since you paid for dinner,” Joe said, reaching for his wallet. Always a gentleman. You placed your hand on his forearm to stop him from getting it out.

“No, it’s my turn to treat you to a night out,” you said with a warm smile. He smiled back and kissed your cheek, letting go of his back pocket.

“Alright, love. But just this once. I want to take care of you.”

You glanced up at him with a smitten grin.

“Deal.”

The two of you boarded the incline car as the sun fully set, the city lights shining with the stars. It was an unbelievably clear night, as if God knew you had planned this and wanted the conditions to be perfect - perfect conditions for perfect Joe. You couldn’t have asked for better. The incline car started up the side of the mountain, the beautiful skyscraper lights revealing themselves as you moved above the trees. Joe watched out the windows in awe. It made you so happy to see him enjoying himself, especially on your turf, somewhere familiar to you. You had only been to Philadelphia once but had been to Pittsburgh countless times. The incline came to a stop at the top of the mountain, and you got off the car to go to the overlook. You leaned against the railing, taking in the beautiful city skyline. You felt arms snake around you. Joe was standing behind you, his arms wrapped around you with his hands joined on the front of your stomach. He rested his chin down on your shoulder and leaned his cheek into the side of your neck. You smiled at the sudden display of affection.

“This is absolutely amazing, darling. Have you brought all of your dates here?”

You giggled at his witty joke as he tightened his hug around you slightly.

“Only you. This is my favorite place in Pittsburgh, the absolute best. I saved it for the best.”

Joe’s face formed into a flattered smile. He lifted his head a little and placed a kiss on your neck, nuzzling his face into the top of your shoulder. Your cheeks flushed at the sensation of his kiss placement. It was as if this man knew exactly how to drive your heart crazy.

“My love, you are too incredibly kind to me.”

“You deserve it. I’ve been through Hell before I met you. You have been nothing short of amazing to me in the little time I’ve known you. Even if you walked away right now, I would be incredibly grateful for you.”

“I could never. You’re stuck with me, darling.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The two of you kissed under the stars and city skyline, a crescent moon in the distance. It was not possible for it to be more romantic. The kiss began to deepen, the most passionate it had ever been. Eventually, you pulled away from a combination of breathlessness and not wanting to be too bold in public. Joe started planting kisses on your neck, trying to maintain some type of contact with you for his lips. You exhaled a lust-filled breath when you felt his teeth lightly graze your skin.

“Joe,” you whispered.

“Mmm?” he questioned wordlessly, his lips not leaving your neck. You released another breath, this time not completely quiet. A soft moan escaped through your lips. “Joe, we’re in public.” He removed his mouth from your neck and leaned in close until his lips were just barely brushing yours, his hot breath dusting your face.

“Don’t think I didn’t hear that, love,” he spoke in a low, seductive tone against your lips, earning red cheeks from you. “And can you blame me? You brought me on this amazing date, treated me like a king, and you look absolutely ravishing tonight.”

“We can go to the hotel,” you suggested, biting your lip with a giggle. Joe’s hand slid down your back to your butt and gave it a little squeeze over your dress, letting out a low, nearly inaudible moan.

“Good. Remember what I said earlier? I want to take care of you.”

You burst through the hotel room door, and it was barely shut before you started ripping clothes off each other. Joe pulled your dress over your head, tossing it aside and leaving you in your black lace bra and panties, his pupils growing at the sight. You pulled his shirt over his head and began frantically undoing his belt, turning you both so his back was to the bed. Once his belt was open and buttons undone, you pulled his jeans off and pushed him onto the bed. He was left in just his boxers, lying on his back with his legs spread apart off the bed, feet on the floor. You climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. His hands wandered up and down your sides, studying you and committing every inch and curve of your body to memory. You leaned down and planted kisses on his lips that quickly turned from tender to hungry and passionate, working your way down his neck to his collar bone, and then to his chest. He moaned at the escalation in desire and the sensation of you. You rocked your hips against his quickly growing erection through his boxers, earning more low moans and quiet growls from him. He began working on your neck, trying to return the favor, sending jolts of electricity to your core. As he planted wet kisses on your collar bone, he slowly slid each bra strap off your shoulders, reaching around to your back.

“Can I?” he asked for permission. You nodded. He unclipped your bra and let it fall off you, his eyes fixated on your newly exposed breasts.

“Fuck,” he muttered in awe. “So damn beautiful.” He sat up and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your chest into his face. He kneaded one breast with his free hand, slowly kissing and licking the other breast to give it proper attention, running his tongue over your nipple. You moaned at the sensation, encouraging him to keep going. He let out a lustful exhale between licks when you once again grinded against his growing bulge. You climbed off him and began to kneel between his legs when he stopped you. “Baby, let me take care of you. Don’t worry about me. You’re all I need.” There was that damn name again that you loved so much. You obeyed, standing back up. He pulled your panties down as you stood in front of him, tossing them aside and lifting his hips off the bed so you could do the same with his boxers. You climbed back on him, straddling his waist once again, but he wasn’t having it this time. He wanted to be in control, be the one to pleasure you. He wrapped an arm around your waist and quickly flipped you both over. He went back to kissing you passionately, working his way down your neck, leaving wet trails, lips smacking. His mouth made its way down your body until it was on your pubic bone. You writhed underneath him, knowing how close he was to your core, and needing him there desperately. He reached down, his fingers slipping between your folds. “Mmmmm, so wet and ready for me already, baby.” You got even wetter just hearing him talk like that. It was something out of a dream. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

“J-Joe, please,” you whined, eager for his touch.

“I like it when you beg, darling.” He leaned down and put his tongue to your bud, and you jolted at the sudden contact and increase in pleasure. Your jaw dropped at how good it felt on you. He sure knew what he was doing. Your hands reached for his head and began running through his curls, lightly tugging on them. He moaned against your core, the vibrations increasing your pleasure. You whined at the sensation. “Mmmm, I think I found my favorite sound in the whole world,” he mumbled against your core, going back to licking and sucking. He took a finger and ran it along your opening, collecting your juices combined with his saliva for lubrication. He pushed a finger inside of you, causing you to cry out in surprise and pleasure. He worked on you from the inside, curling his finger in search of that special spot. Your moans got louder and more frequent, hinting to him that he had found it. He inserted another finger to help the first one and continued massaging your walls.

“J-Joe, oh fuck. I’m so close,” you forced out, whining with each sweeping pass of his tongue.

He abruptly pulled his fingers out of you and his tongue stopped its work on your bud. You pouted at the sudden emptiness. Joe moved up and spread your legs around his waist, quickly positioned himself at your entrance and gathering juices onto his member. He shoved himself in without warning. You cried out from the pleasure of being filled again.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby. Feels so good. You alright?”

It was so sweet of him to check on you. Some men were selfish and only focused on chasing their own climax, but not Joe.

“Mhmm,” was all you could muster out.

He rhythmically rolled his hips into you, causing that aching pleasurable sensation to start building once again.

“Good girl. Look at you, you’re doing so good,” he praised, shooting more waves of pleasure to your core.

The pleasure grew stronger and stronger as Joe’s hips moved faster and faster. Joe’s thrusts became sloppy, indicating he was approaching his high, too. “Mmmm, I’m s-so r-ready. Where do you want it, darling?”

“I-in m-me,” you stuttered in pleasure. His breaths quickened, and you both peaked together. Moans from both of you filled the room as Joe thrusted messily through his high. Once you both rode out your pleasure, he pulled out of you and leaned down, kissing you gently.

“That was...life altering,” he said through an exhale with a smirk. You smiled and giggled, nodding in agreement.

“Mind blowing.”

He laid down beside you, pulling you in as the little spoon and kissing you on the shoulder attentively. He gently rubbed circles on your arm, nearly tickling you. You could have stayed like that for hours. He sure wasn’t kidding when he said he would take care of you, aftercare included.

“Joe?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Does this make us a couple? You know, officially?”

He turned you so you were on your back to get a better view of your face, looking down at you from above.

“Well, what do you want us to be? If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll be.”

This man just finished railing you like an animal and was still being a gentleman, allowing things to be defined on your terms rather than his own.

“I just want you. I don’t care how. I just do.”

He smiled and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“You already have me.”

Story Master List

28 notes · View notes