#The Walking Dead Companion Series
Text
Serendipity
chapter one
summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.
no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.
pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader
warning(s): none
series masterlist; next part
The atmosphere surrounding the students on the Hogwarts Express differed massively in comparison to your fifth year last year, when everyone was wholly against Harry. Now, however, people whispered in their compartments about how he was right, the Dark Lord had returned. How everything was changing, especially with the rising death toll, wizard and muggle combined.
You were walking to the designated Prefect's compartment, which sat in the middle of the train, with Hermione at your side, your blue and bronze tie clashing with her burgundy and gold one. Your presence at the Ministry that summer prompted the two of you to be topics of few conversations, you sent glares their way.
"What do you think will happen this year?" the Gryffindor girl asked as you both made your way through the throngs of students in the hallway.
"Considering we almost died in June?" you say, a frown painting your face as your mind brings you back to your traumatic time in the Department of Mysteries to aid Harry in saving (and failing to do so) his Godfather. "We'll probably face certain death this year, Mione."
Hermione swatted your arm in feined annoyance at your attempt of a joke. "Don't put that thought into existence Meadow."
You only shrugged as you held the compartment door open for her. Ron was already waiting inside, glaring at Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson, who were sat diagonally across from him.
Unlike your Gryffindor companions, you had no issues with the two snakes, in fact they were two people you would consider your closest friends, if it wasn't for the prejudice that went both ways – from your friends and some of their's.
"Stop glaring holes into the sides of their heads, Ron." you scold. "I've told you before, they're my friends. They won't do anything to you."
He said nothing, but he did stop his glaring in favour of greeting the two of you.
The Prefect meeting went on for over an hour and you found yourself zoning out multiple times.
You're going to miss out on important information if you keep daydreaming, tesoro. Theodore. You admired that he was as talented as he was, but it was annoying when he would invade your thoughts. You narrowed your eyes at him.
Stay out of my head, Teddy.
But it's so fun, and so easy. He smirked and turned his attention back to the Head Boy, who was busy assigning roles to the new fifth year prefects. Pansy nudged Theo's arm, breaking his concentration, as she was obviously using her own legillimens ability to berate him. She offered you a smile in apology, which you returned with one of your own.
You'd taken to learning legillimens at the start of fifth year, having read about it in a book you'd taken from the restricted section of the Hogwarts library. You also wanted to protect your mind, especially with the knowledge that Voldemort was back after Harry had returned with Cedric Diggory's dead body at the end of your fourth year.
"Now onto you sixth years." the Head Girl announced. "Like last year, you're going to be paired off for nightly patrols."
She began pairing you off one by one. Hermione was with Ernie Macmillan; Ron was paired with Hannah Abbot; Pansy with your Ravenclaw counterpart and Theodore was paired with you. She then paired off the seventh year prefects before the Head Boy dismissed you all.
~∞~
Ron yawned as he stepped into the corridor. "Thank Merlin that's over. I'm starving."
"You're always hungry, Ronald." Hermione muttered as she walked out behind him, rolling her eyes at his usual ramblings, causing you to laugh at his expense.
"My my, it's a wonder why Dumbledore chose you to be a prefect with that attitude, Weasley." Theodore spoke up from behind you, Pansy at his side, once again shooting you an apologetic smile.
"Piss off, Nott." Ron snarked, turning to face your snickering Slytherin friend, about to take a step towards him when you put a hand on his chest.
"Leave it Ron. He's only trying to get a rise out of you. I'll meet you both in the compartment in a bit." you say, turning to face a smirking Theo with a berating glare.
"Wanted to get me alone, tesoro? Finally. I've waited all these years." he said with a grin, stepping towards you as your Gryffindor friends reluctantly left.
"Don't flatter yourself, Teddy." you say with an eye roll before you turned to Pansy and brought her into a hug. "I've missed you Pans. Good summer?"
"Abysmal." she muttered, sharing a not-so-subtle look with Theo. You looked between them questioningly.
"What happened?" you ask.
Exchanging glancing, they seemed to come to an agreement and Pansy grabbed your hand, dragging you into the closest empty compartment. Theo followed behind the two of you, closing the door and spelling it from unwanted listeners.
"What's with the secrecy? Guys?" you look between them growing more confused by the second.
"Before I tell you, you have to understand, I didn't have a choice, none of us did." Theo emphasises. "I consider you one of my best friends, tesoro. But what I'm about to reveal....it cannot under any circumstances leave this room."
You look at him confused, but the nagging thought that had haunted you all summer suddenly creeped up on your subconscious. Your eyes widened.
"No. Theo don't tell me-" you stutter and he looks away ashamed.
His son is my best friend. My father wants to get into his good graces, I had no choice. Even his voice in your head sounds despondent.
"Oh Teddy." you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist, hugging him tight.
"I'm to receive the mark during the Christmas holidays." he mumbles dejectively into your hair. "Hell of a Christmas present."
"How good is your legillimens ability?" Pansy asks you. "Can you block people out."
"I have my thoughts locked away into a little mental box, but I'm still working on fully blocking people out." you say, pointedly looking up at Theo, who smiles innocently at you.
"You'll need to practice it then." she says resolutely, but the look on her face indicates nothing pleasant. "Mattheo can help you."
You scoffed. "There is no way Riddle will willingly help me. His father's biggest threat is one of my best friends."
"And you're one of our best friends, Meadow." Pansy says. "Our loyalty to eachother goes both ways. He'll help you, he's the most advanced at it, besides Snape and Dumbledore of course. Trust me."
"What about Harry?" I ask. "And Ron and Hermione, the Order. What am I meant to tell them. They won't be thrilled that I'm taking lessons from you-know-who's son."
"You'll tell them that you're tutoring Mattheo. It's a believable lie. He's shite at Ancient Runes, no matter how much I try to help him." Theo says, nodding his head as a plan forms in his mind. That was true. You don't know how Riddle was still enrolled in that class. "We've already discussed this becoming a possibility. He's more than willing."
"Why are you trusting me with this?" you question, staring between your two friends.
"Like it or not, you're our one way ticket to the right side of this war, tesoro. You know as well as I do that Potter needs as much help as he can get. And you need to protect your mind so that the Dark Lord can't get into your head." Theo says.
"So are you in?" Pansy asks as she heads towards the door. "Because there's no backing out from here, and I really don't want to obliviate one of my dearest friends."
You know the risks. You don't know what this will mean for your current friendships. But you know that Theodore is right. To help Harry, he'll need as much help as possible. Having Theo and Pansy on your side could be a turning point in this brewing war.
"I'm in." you say, nodding your head in agreement. "Just keep the snarky comments to a minimum about Ron, Mione and Harry, please. And relay that message to the rest of your friends too."
"Already done, tesoro." Theo says, ruffling your hair, grinning when you swat his hand away.
You question what he means for a moment when the back of your skull begins to burn with a dull ache. You cradle the back of your neck with your hand, wincing at the sting as Mattheo's deep, raspy voice fills every corner of your mind.
Lessons start tomorrow night, Princess. Don't be late.
He was already in your head, you sighed. It was going to be a long year.
~∞~
You reached the compartment that your other friends occupied at the same time that Harry and Neville seemed to be leaving it.
"Where are you two off to?" you ask as the two boys move away from the open doorway.
"To meet Professor Slughorn." Neville said, although he looked a mixure of nervous and confused.
"Who the hell is that?" you look at Hermione as you go inside, leaving Harry and Neville on their venture.
"New Professor, apparently." she replied. "What took you so long?"
You knew that your friends, minus maybe Harry, had little to no legillimens skills, but nevertheless, you cleared your mind of the conversation you'd had with Theo and Pansy.
"Well Pansy likes a gossip." you said flipantly as you pulled out a book from your never ending bag. "How else are we to know everything that goes on outside of our little circle, now that Lee Jordan is no longer in school?"
Ron and Hermione smile at that, before Ron's face drops.
"Listen, be careful around them this year, yeah." he said, his voice low. "We went to see Fred and George's new shop and watched Malfoy go into Borgin and Burke's with a bunch of known Death Eaters."
Your heart dropped. Theo would be participating in those meeting come Christmas time. That must mean that Draco was already involved.
"Well you know what sort of things they sell there." you say hesitantly. "It probably doesn't mean anything."
Hermione scoffed. "Try telling that to Harry. I think he's convinced that Draco and Riddle have been inducted."
You fall silent shortly after that. The conversation only picking up again when Neville came back to the compartment, Ginny following behind him.
Harry was nowhere in sight.
~∞~
Harry was awol for the rest of the trainride.
When the Hogwarts Express pulled to a stop in Hogsmeade station and you all found a carriage to settle in, he still wasn't there.
"Where on Earth is he?" Mione muttered as the thestrals, that were no longer invisible to you all after Sirius' death, pulled onto the winding road up to the castle.
"He's probably already in a carriage and didn't wait for us. Wouldn't be the first time." Ron assured, although his face betrayed his words as he looked as worried as you and Hermione.
You were unconvinced, and more so when you split off towards the Ravenclaw table when the three of you arrived to the Great Hall and saw, not to your surprise, Mattheo Riddle with bloody and bruised knuckles. As you sat beside Luna Lovegood you felt that same prickling sensation that you did on the train. He was watching you, and he continued to watch you with his cold, unbothered stare through the sorting ceremony and Dumbledore's speech.
Your attention was brought to the doors of the Great Hall where Harry seemed to materialise, Snape's looming figure behind him. But what you noticed the most in the bright glow of floating candles that bothered you more than his lack of punctuality, was the bloody tissue he was dabbing at his recently-fixed broken nose, which he did not have when you last saw him hours earlier.
People stared and whispered as he made his way to where Ron and Hermione were sitting. But your attention was pulled to where Crabbe and Goyle were sat snickering from their seats beside Draco. You narrowed your eyes at Riddle, who was still looking at you.
Got a staring problem, Princess?
Merlin he infuriated you. You focused on him as you thought of your response.
Did you do that to his face?
He smirked. Did I do what?
You didn't give him a response, instead turning your attention to Theo, who was chatting to Lorenzo Berkshire. Did Riddle do that to Harry? You asked and you watched as Theo startled before maintaining the same facade of conversation.
No. It was Draco. Harry was eavesdropping his conversation with Blaise. Matt was with me and Enzo.
Your question was answered, but you were still left unsatisfied. And Riddle's stare had not faltered, which added to your growing bad mood.
Stop fucking staring at me, Riddle. And stay out of my head.
He smirked wickedly and finally looked away, taking the prickling sensation along with him.
~∞~
first post on tumblr after lurking for a year 🫢
i've been a little hyperfixated on the slytherin boys (particularly theo and mattheo) so i thought i'd try out writing a short(ish) fic, but i couldn't be bothered with wattpad (i'm procrastinating finishing a fic on there lol)
i'm also writing this instead of finishing uni assignments that are literally due at the end of the week whoops
#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#pansy parkinson#theo nott#mattheoxreader#mattheo x you#theodore nott x reader#harry potter#mattheo riddle smut#ravenclaw x slytherin#serendipity series
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🤍 Where I'm supposed to be 🤍
Summary: Tav (aka the reader) is taking care of Astarion after defeating Cazador.
Word count: 1.5k
Pairing: Astarion x Tav/Reader
Tags: Hurt / comfort; I think this is called reverse comfort? (When the reader comforts the character); lots of mentions of blood; Not 100% canon compliant but it's just minor details/ me not wanting to simply retell what happens in the game
A heavy silence falls over the crypt as Astarion sinks to his knees. You almost preferred it when he was still screaming. The current silence feels like a dark presence stretching over you, making it difficult to breathe.
You can sense that your other companions are just as uneasy as you are. Karlach uneasily fumbles with the handle of her weapon and Gale is biting his lip while staring at the gory scene in front of you with Astarion as its main actor.
They're clearly struggling to decide what to do now. So are you.
Your first instinct is to hug Astarion, to fuss over him and make sure he isn't injured, but you're not sure he wants to be touched right now. However, just standing there watching him doesn't feel right either.
"Astarion?" You finally ask, taking a small step towards him, carefully stretching out your hand like you're talking to a wild animal. He doesn't react. His eyes are fixated on the dead body of his former master in front of him, almost like he's waiting for Cazador to jump up and start mocking him again. Like the moment he looks away, Cazador will return back to life and continue to attack.
You follow his stare, seeing the multiple stab wounds and the puddle of blood he's lying in. No, that bastard is dead.
You kneel down next to Astarion, placing a hand on his shoulder. If he noticed you at all, he isn't showing it. You look at him, trying to make out any immediate signs of injuries. He doesn't appear to be hurt, but you do notice the slight tremble of his bottom lip and the way his eyes swell up with tears. You gently pull him towards you, wrapping your arms around him. Astarion doesn't resist, letting his head sink into your chest.
He's completely still for a few moments, then the previous silence is broken by a series of loud sobs. Astarion's hands grasp the back of your shirt, fists balling together like he's scared you'll disappear. He trembles in your arms and you pull him even closer. You run a hand through Astarion's hair in an attempt to soothe him, even if just a little bit. It's sticky with blood, but you hardly notice that.
"It's okay, love. He won't hurt you anymore," you whisper in his ear, your other hand gently stroking his back. He only sobs louder in response, but it seems to help him breathe a little more evenly.
You're interrupted by the other spawn approaching. They still appear in just as much shock as Astarion, eyeing the corpse of their former master like they, too, can't believe he's really gone yet.
"Well… What now?" One of them eventually asks, all of them turning to Astarion like they expect guidance from him now.
You look over to your companions, hoping one of them might step in to redirect the spawn. But before any of them can say something, Astarion loosens his grip of you, getting up with his back straightened.
He's still sniffling a little, but already looks far more composed than before. Or, at least he tries to look composed.
Perhaps he even manages to convince everyone else that he's really okay. However, you can't help but notice the slight tremble in his legs as he walks over to pick up Cazador's staff, and the way he's fighting to keep his voice steady while talking to the others.
You've spent enough time around him, observing his mannerisms, to know when he's putting on a show. As much as he tries to appear alright, in truth he's far from being okay.
As Astarion's siblings leave, his eyes trail after them, staring off into the distance even after they're long gone. You put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to break him out of his trance. "Astarion, are you alr-" He cuts you off.
“Let’s just go home. I've had enough of this place," he says without turning around, just loud enough for you to hear.
You only nod in response and Astarion starts walking, the rest of your party following close behind.
Nobody says a word on your way back to Elfsong Tavern. Yet, you grow increasingly worried for Astarion. He looks like he's barely holding himself together, while pushing his emotions as far down as possible. You can only hope he'll open up to you later, rather than trying to pretend the events of tonight never happened.
The moment you reach Elfsong Tavern, Astarion drags himself upstairs to the floor you rented, straight to his bed where he sits down, staring at the wall. You contemplate whether it would be best to leave him alone with his thoughts for the time being, or whether you should try talking to him.
Eventually you decide to just sit down next to him, quietly reaching for his hand. "Just so you know," you start, "you don't have to talk right now if you don't want to. But I'm here for you."
Astarion nods in response, ever so slightly squeezing your hand.
You don't know how much time passes like this, but Astarion eventually breaks the silence, almost startling you with how suddenly he starts speaking.
“Do you think I made the right decision back there?” His voice doesn't have its usual smoothness to it as he speaks. Instead, it sounds sore and raspy. He just sounds tired.
“Yes.” You say it wholeheartedly, not even having to think before you respond. Astarion made the right decision - Of that you’re sure. “You’ve proven you’re better than Cazador. You didn't cause others to suffer for your own benefit. You made sure he'll never hurt anyone again. I’m absolutely certain you made the right decision.”
Astarion hums, nodding slowly as if he's contemplating your words. “At least one of us is sure, then. I really hope you’re correct.” He sighs and runs a hand over his face. "I'm not so certain I did the right thing. But maybe I should trust your judgment while I can't think straight."
You squeeze his hand tightly, and he gives a weak squeeze back. “Give it a while for everything to settle down,” you suggest, gently. “Once you’ve had some time to work through all this, I’m sure you’ll see things have worked out for the better.” He just grunts in response, letting his head sink against your shoulder. You sit like that in silence for a while, and you can tell he’s on the brink of falling asleep.
“Hey, how about we get all this blood off you and go to sleep?” You suggest, running a hand through his hair. Astarion just nods, allowing you to pull him along and lead him towards the small bathtub in the bathroom.
You run some warm water and grab a sponge while Astarion sits in the tub. Under normal circumstances he probably wouldn't let you take care of him like this, but tonight he doesn’t protest as you run the sponge over his skin, making sure to wash off the blood still sticking to his skin. He even closes his eyes for a while, completely giving himself into the care of your gentle touch as you run the water over his head in an attempt to get the blood splatters out of his hair.
Once you're sure you've gotten rid of all the blood, you bring Astarion a towel, wrapping it around him.
He sits there and watches as you grab a second towel, using it to dry his hair.
As you're about to put the towel away, you suddenly find Astarion's arms finding their way around your waist, pulling you close enough for him to rest his head against your torso.
You freeze in place, only moving enough to drop the towel and run your hand through Astarion's still damp hair. Just by his expression you can tell he needs to be close to you right now, and you have no intention of denying him that comfort.
After a while of being together like this in silence, you gently nudge Astarion. "Let's get you to bed, alright? It'll be much more comfortable there."
Astarion seems reluctant to let go of you, finally agrees to it after you promise not to leave his side for the night (not that you would've done so either way).
As he climbs into bed, you lie down next to him, pulling him into your arms. Astarion seems happy to rest his head on your chest. He seems almost peaceful like this, listening to your heartbeat while you run a hand across his back with gentle strokes.
"Thank you. For taking care of me… And for stopping me from probably making a big mistake. It's good to have someone looking out for me for once," Astarion mumbles, sounding like he's on the edge of falling asleep.
You run a hand through his still damp hair. "Don't mention it. You would've done the same for me." You press a kiss to his forehead, catching a glimpse of the slightest smile curling Astarion's lips. "And I hope you know you can always rely on me."
Astarion nods, hugging you a little tighter. "Yes. And I'm grateful for that, too."
Soon after, the only thing you hear is Astarion's soft breaths as he drifts off to sleep. You can only hope the next day will be a little brighter for him. But if not, he still has you to rely on.
Thank you for reading 🤍
Title was inspired by this
#bg3 astarion#astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion x mc#baldurs gate astarion#baldur's gate 3#bg3#astarion ancunin
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Too Close For Comfort
Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader
Summary: Frank comforts you after he is forced to kill a man in your shared motel room.
Word Count: 5.4k
Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Gun Violence, Dead Body (Not Frank's. Don't Worry), Explicit Sexual Content, Little Pinch of Angst, Long Ass Flashback, Porn With 3.5k Words of Plot
A/N: This is the first fic I've ever written! I've been wanting to write for the JB fandom for a while and I finally decided to go for it. I'm planning to write for a lot more of his characters in the future, but I figured Frank was a good starting point. Hope you like it! I'm open to feedback if you've got it. XOXO.
Read on AO3
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ
After almost three months of living in an old stolen pickup truck and a series of shitty motels, you had learned to count your blessings. An important one, you quickly came to realize, was good water pressure. You were in the middle of your forth shower in the three days you and your new travel partner had been in this town, and you were trying your best to savor the moment. Since the closest companion of long showers is long trains of thought, you allowed your mind to wander back to how your adventure first began.
You took a step back in the cereal aisle in your local grocery store to examine the top shelf and ran directly into someone trying to pass behind you. Startled, you dropped the basket you were carrying full of frozen veggies and canned soups, and watched them roll in all directions. You whipped around so quickly you almost joined your soup on the floor, but luckily a strong hand shot out to steady you before you could.
"Whoa. Sorry 'bout that," the stranger said. And that was how you met Frank Castle. Surprisingly, your first impression of him had nothing to do with his gentle giant aura or his warm, gravelly voice. Your first impression happened before you even laid eyes on him, and that was how backing up into him was like hitting a brick wall with your car. He didn't stumble or falter. He didn't even flinch.
"No, sorry, that was my fault," you replied, your cheeks flushed from creating a loud noise in a public place. The stranger removed his hand from your arm and glanced down at the floor where your bags of peas laid, slowly thawing.
"You, uh... You want some help with those?"
"Oh, I got it, don't worry."
The man mumbled an "alright" and you watched him start to walk away, expecting him to leave the aisle, but he only took a few steps before his foot brushed a stray can, and he bent down to help anyway.
"Thank you. You didn't have to do that," you said when all the groceries had been collected.
"No problem," he muttered. You weren't sure why, but there was something off-putting about him. Later you realized it was the stark contrast between his gruff outer appearance and his quiet way of speaking. He was so intimidating but he seemed so trustworthy. "You have a nice day, ma'am."
Before he could walk away, you found yourself calling out to him, too curious to let him leave without asking any questions.
"Hey, I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you. . . new in town?"
He seemed amused by your attempt to start a conversation, but decided to indulge you anyway. "I'm just passin' through. So you, uh, you really know everyone that lives here?"
Although he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, he kept subtly glancing around like he was about to cross the street or something. When he turned his head, you noticed the remnants of a week-old bruise on his jaw.
"Pretty much, yeah," you responded. "So, life on the road, huh? Sounds pretty exhilarating."
He let out a friendly chuckle. "Yeah, I guess it can be. If exhilarating is what you call lukewarm showers and buying all your food from the gas station."
You smiled back, happy the man seemed to be warming up some. He seemed less on edge, and you weren't sure why, but that made you feel accomplished in some way.
"Well, this isn't a gas station," you remarked, playfully contradicting his earlier statement.
"You're right, it's not," he said. "But I had to make an exception because-" You watched as he pulled a round object from his jacket pocket, holding it up and waving it slightly as if to show it off. "-gas stations don't carry mangoes."
You mock gasped, unable to fight back a smile. "Pocket fruit? I hope you were planning to pay for that. Or are you 'just passing through' because you're on the run from the police?"
You expected him to laugh at this, but instead you saw him staring intently over your shoulder at a man who had just entered the aisle. He seemed to identify the new arrival as some sort of threat. You saw that they were looking directly at each other, and you suddenly felt uneasy. Before you could ask what was wrong, several things began happening at once.
The man at the end of the aisle pulled out a gun and pointed it directly at the two of you. No, not at you, just at the kind stranger, who immediately pushed you behind him as the first shot rang out, followed by a second one. Thankfully, they both missed the two of you, but the second bullet grazed the basket you were still holding which was sticking out from behind the stranger's leg. Instantly, you dropped the basket and began sprinting for the nearest exit with the stranger close behind you.
You ran through a door marked 'EMPLOYEES ONLY,' which the stranger quickly barricaded with a tall shelf packed with bulk boxes of paper towel rolls. As the shooter banged at the door, the two of you found an exit at the back of the stock room, which you flung open and rushed through into the building's side alley. The stranger pulled you behind the building to where his vehicle was conveniently parked, almost as if he'd been anticipating an emergency escape. Too terrified to argue, you didn't protest when he ordered you to get in the passenger seat and jammed his keys in the ignition. He tore out of the parking lot and onto the main road, carrying you away from your home and the man who had tried to kill you both.
It took you half an hour to work up the courage to ask questions.
"Who was he?" you asked, softly. You're sure he heard you, although he seemed happy to pretend he didn't.
After a few long moments, when he realized you weren't going to stop staring at him until he answered, he begrudgingly responded.
"A bad man."
"Why did he wanna kill you?"
"I, uh, took something from him," the stranger said, studying his rear view mirror to see if you were being followed.
"Are you a bad man?" you asked, tentatively.
At first he just sighed, and for a moment you thought that's all he was going to give you for an answer, but then he spoke.
"I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're asking."
"Then. . . can you take me home?"
"I can't turn around yet, not 'till I know we're not being followed. Then I might be able to take you back so you can pack a bag or two."
"Pack?! For what?" you exclaimed, dreading the answer. There was another awkward silence while the man planned his answer. "Why do I need to pack? Tell me!"
"That man, the one with the gun? He has a, uh, habit of targeting his enemies' loved ones."
"But we barely know each other, why the hell would he-"
"He doesn't know that."
"Besides," he continued after a while, "I don't really. . . have any loved ones. So he's kinda grasping at straws to find somebody I'd want to protect."
"So, he thinks you would care if I died, and now we're both in danger?" You stared at him in disbelief.
"Pretty much, yeah," he mumbled.
After that, the truck was silent for a long while. The only time you spoke in the next two hours was to give the stranger your address. You watched the trees and road pass by beside you, trying to figure out what you would pack when you finally made it home for possibly the last time. You were lost in thought so long that you were pulled out of your head by the truck's tires bouncing over the dip in your driveway. You didn't even know you had turned around.
"You get ten minutes. We're traveling light, so don't go crazy." You began to hop out of the truck before the stranger's voice stopped you in your tracks. You turned around and saw that he was looking at you for the first time since you escaped the grocery store. "For the record," he began, contemplating what to say next, "I would care if he killed you."
You just stared back at him, not knowing how to respond to that.
"I'm gonna keep you safe, alright?" he promised, and you believed him.
You nodded, and went inside to gather your belongings. There was just something about this man that made you want to trust him. You managed to fit everything you needed into a large duffel bag and a back-pack. Looking around you, you realized something. You lived alone and all your friends lived out of state. This town had nothing to offer you except a shitty restaurant job. Most likely, the only person who would even notice you were gone was your boss. You took a deep breath before returning to the truck, putting your life in the hands of someone you just met.
You hopped back in the passenger seat, and the stranger helped you toss your bags in the backseat after checking that they were of a reasonable size. "You ready?" he asked.
"Fuck, no. Lets go."
The two of you took off down the road in a different direction than before, hoping to throw the bad man off your trail. After about an hour on the road, you looked over at the stranger to find him smirking slightly, lost in thought.
"What?" you asked, happy the mood seemed to be lightening despite your situation. He glanced over at you momentarily, and instead of providing a verbal response, he just reached into his pocket and handed you a slightly dented but still perfectly ripe mango. You took it from him with a smile.
"What's your name?" you asked.
He looked at you for a long moment, before seeming to make a decision. "Frank. What yours?"
You were brought back to the present by a torrent of freezing cold water, telling you you had been in there too long. You were thankful that Frank seemed to prefer morning showers. As you stepped out and dried off, you thought about the man chasing you. Eventually, when Frank opened up to you, he revealed that his name was Jordan Carlisle, and that his father was involved in the murder of Frank's family. You also discovered that the thing Frank had taken from him was his father's life. It had been so long since that day at the grocery store, and you wondered if you'd ever see him again. Maybe by this point, he'd given up on his revenge, and decided to leave Frank in peace. But Frank said Carlisle wasn't the type of man to just give up, and that if you ever wanted to stop running, someone would have to die.
During your few months together, you also learned that Frank wasn't the type to run away or avoid confrontation. The only reason he hadn't met Carlisle half way and taken him down was to keep you safe. That and the fact that he had been forced to leave behind some supplies shortly before you met and was left with nothing but a handgun, two bullets, and a pocket knife. (All things you could use to kill a man, but probably not a trained assassin).
You were both anticipating the end of the chase, however, because Frank had recently acquired various new firearms and a respectable pile of ammunition, and he was getting a little tired of running. Also, there's only so much distance you can put between you and your attacker before he realizes he's moving in the wrong direction. You had just pulled your favorite cotton nightgown over your head when-
*BANG*
You heard the unmistakable sound of the motel door being forced open. You heard a gunshot and something hit the floor. The sounds of a physical struggle just behind the bathroom door simultaneously relieved you and caused your heart to slam against your rib cage. At least you knew Frank was still alive. Unfortunately, so was the person who broke in. You couldn't see him, but you were pretty sure you knew who it was.
Two more gunshots shocked you into motion. You slid under the bathroom sink and tried desperately to remember what Frank told you to do on your first night together in case of a break in. He told you to get outside and find a hiding spot or barricade yourself in a closet or bathroom and wait for him to come get you. His voice in your head was commanding you, "Do. Not. Move." You tried to do as you were told but the urge to make sure Frank was alright was growing stronger. The muffled grunts and thuds were scaring you. You couldn't tell who had the upper hand and you didn't know enough about guns to determine which shots came from which man.
A loud cry of pain from Frank was your final straw. There wasn't a single thought in your head, let alone a plan, but you couldn't keep hiding while someone you cared about was potentially getting himself killed. You ran to the bathroom door, unlocked it, and threw it open with as much force as you could manage. The door slammed into the wall beside it with a loud crash. A distraction.
Just a few feet in front of you, Jordan Carlisle was caught off guard by the sound and he twirled around to find the source. Almost instantly, his gun was trained on you. Suddenly, you felt consumed by fear unlike anything you'd ever felt before. You heard the gunshot and flinched violently backward, as if you could somehow escape the bullet, stumbling back onto the bathroom floor. You screamed and squeezed your eyes shut tight, waiting for the impact, but it never came. You hesitantly opened your eyes just in time to watch Carlisle collapse onto the dirty motel carpet, eyes open and unseeing. He was dead. The chase was over.
Almost immediately you burst into tears, unable to get the image of his lifeless body out of your head. You knew you should be relieved, but there was something about almost dying that made you prone to emotional outbursts. You gazed up at Frank across the room, who still had his gun pointed at the spot where Carlisle had been standing moments before. He slowly lowered it and looked over at you where you were sitting on the floor, sobbing. He seemed angry, like every cell in his body was infused with a furious energy, and he had just shot the thing he was taking it out on.
"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!" Guess now it was your turn. "I TOLD YOU IF SOMEONE BREAKS IN, YOU FIND A PLACE TO HIDE AND YOU STAY THERE."
"I was j-just wo-horried about you," you hiccuped.
"I HAD IT COVERED."
"I'm sorr-"
"YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN YOURSELF KILLED. THEN ALL OF THIS RUNNING BULLSHIT WOULD HAVE BEEN FOR NOTHING."
You turned your head away from the shouting and found yourself looking directly at Carlisle again. This time, you were unable to turn away. It was like you were completely frozen, tension locking all your muscles in place, rendering you incapable of even the slightest movement. Your tears began falling harder but you were barely making a sound. Your lungs were tight and burning. You couldn't even draw in a full breath. Frank's reprimanding faded into background noise. You found yourself wishing desperately that you were anywhere but in that room.
"Oh, fuck," Frank muttered when he saw you damn near hyperventilating. He calmed down considerably when he realized yelling at you was only making things worse. "Shit, I didn't want you to see this."
He made his way over to your side of the room and knelt down to be at eye level with you. You barely acknowledged his presence.
"Hey, look at me," he asked gently. You didn't move your head. Softly, Frank cupped your cheek, the one farther away from him, and used it to turn you in his direction.
"You're gonna be okay," he promised. "Can you stand, sweetheart?"
Seeing Frank alive and calm helped you come back to yourself. Slowly, you nodded. Frank stood and held out his hand to you, which you used to pull yourself up with a little effort. You managed to get upright, but your legs were shaking so hard you weren't sure if you'd be able to walk. It was pathetic, and you were quite sure Frank would agree, but he didn't say anything about it. He just took one look at you and scooped you up into his arms. You were embarrassed by your incompetence, but you had finally stopped crying, and that was an accomplishment in and of itself.
Frank carried you over to your bed on the far side of the room and laid you down carefully. On your way over, you passed his bed which was closer to the bathroom, and saw two bullet holes in the pillow Frank had been laying on when you left to take a shower. That was when the relief hit you. You felt no more grief or fear or regret, only solaced by the fact that you were both alive and safe at last.
"Stay here, alright? Don't move," Frank murmured. He turned to walk over to the body again but you grabbed onto his arm before he could leave. He looked back at you questioningly.
"I heard you get hurt," you mentioned shyly. "What happened?"
Frank's eyes revealed that he was happy you were talking again. He seemed touched that your first concern when the shock wore off was for him.
"Ran into the nightstand," he admitted, rubbing his side. "It's just bruised, nothing to worry about."
You had a feeling he wasn't telling you the full story, but you decided to accept his answer. As far as you could tell, he wasn't bleeding anywhere and he didn't seem to be in much pain. Satisfied, you let go of his arm and turned to face the wall. You had a feeling you wouldn't want to see what was about to happen.
You laid there for a while, listening to Frank working behind you. You heard something being dragged across the floor, several grunts of effort and a sickening thud. You heard the faucet running in the sink and the sound of the bathroom door closing. There were footsteps moving around the room. . . the sound of someone changing clothes. You smelled the air freshener left in the bathroom cabinet masking the scent of blood.
Finally, after God knows how long, you felt the bed dip slightly as Frank sat down on the edge. You sat up and moved next to him, resting your head on his shoulder after a moment of hesitation. He put his arm around your shoulder and held you closer to him. The two of you weren't usually this affectionate, but you had certainly grown closer during your time together, and you figured the situation called for it.
"Do you think the police are on their way down here?" you asked.
Frank shrugged. "Probably not if they haven't shown up by now." Frank tried and failed to fight back a small smile. "Either that guy behind the front desk is a really heavy sleeper, or he did something to piss off the jackass in our bathtub. The only other people in this dump checked out yesterday," he said. You couldn't help but smile at that along with him. You were just so happy to be alive.
The more you let that thought run through your head, the more you wanted to be close to him. You needed more than an arm around your shoulder after you almost got shot in the head. You wanted to be held. 'Oh, sue me,' you thought. 'Who wouldn't?'
But you tried to let it be enough. You weren't sure how Frank would react to more than what you were already doing and you were too nervous to find out. You felt Frank shift next to you and realized that overthinking had caused you to become tense. The silence between you grew slowly thicker and you were worried he was about to pull away from you. In that moment, Frank standing up seemed like the absolute worst thing in the world that could happen to anyone, and you weren't about to let it.
'Fuck it', you thought, and with one quick movement, you were straddling his lap with your arms thrown over his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. He was caught off guard for a brief moment, but a second later his arms were wrapped around your waist, holding you just as tightly. You buried your face in his neck, breathing him in and savoring the feeling of his pulse against your cheek.
"We're okay, Frankie," you breathed. "It's over."
"I told you I was gonna keep you safe, sweetheart. I don't make promises I can't keep."
The two of you stayed like that for a while, content to just hold each other until the sun shone through the curtains. Well, you thought you were content, but it wasn't long before the closeness started to affect you. He was just so warm and solid, and suddenly you felt like he was wearing too many clothes. You wanted to feel him. Feel his heartbeat and the warmth of his skin on yours.
Your stomach was tight with desperation and you felt tears forming behind your eyes. You needed to be closer. Your thighs tightened around Frank's hips and he felt your breathing get heavier against his neck. You shifted your position slightly to ease some of the wanting in your veins but you froze when you heard Frank's breath hitch.
As you settled your weight on his lap again, your new position provided a new sensation. There was something warm pressing against your inner thigh. Even through Frank's impenetrable denim jeans, you could feel it heating up.
Frank was just as aroused by your position as you were. He wanted you, too, but you knew he would never admit it because he cared about you too much to do anything that could potentially hurt you.
The worst part was, you could feel it getting bigger and pulsing softly right next to where you wanted it the most, and he knew you could feel it. He knew, and he knew you wanted it, but he still wasn't saying anything about it because he was too damn stubborn. He probably thought you weren't in your right mind and would regret it in the morning but that was just such bullshit. You could never regret him, and you were going to make sure he knew that.
There was still some part of you that was afraid to make a move, and that part of you really wanted Frank to break first. So, you decided to make him unable to ignore it any longer. Pretending to adjust your position again, you settled down directly on top of his bulge, making sure it was exactly where you wanted it. The feeling of his cock hardening against you sent another wave of desperation through your body, causing you to tighten your limbs around him again. Still feigning innocence, you rolled your hips once for good measure, grinding down on him to see his reaction.
You didn't see it so much as feel it, when his arms tensed up around you and he turned his head away from you in frustration. You could feel your blood pumping hard, and you were sure your face was flushed. You wondered if he could feel your heartbeat the same way you could feel his pressed up against your clit. You felt his cock twitch again, even through three layers of fabric, and you could barely take it any more. You rolled your hips again, purely on instinct, and accidentally let out a soft moan.
Frank exhaled sharply and slid his arm from around your waist to pull your head away from his neck.
"What are you doin', sweetheart?" he asked, looking at you sympathetically when he saw your wrecked face. Suddenly, it was all too much for you, and there was nothing you could do to stop a rogue tear from sliding down your cheek.
"Please," you whispered, and that was all you had to say.
He put a hand on the back of your neck and pulled you toward him before lightly brushing his lips against yours. You pushed forward, wanting more, but Frank pulled away before you could really kiss him. He just sat there for a moment, searching your eyes for any signs of reluctance or any lack of clarity whatsoever. In the end, he found nothing but pure desire and maybe, just maybe, love.
This time, when he leaned in, you met him half way. This time, it was more than just a brush of lips. Frank kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. Gentle, yes, but also tortuously deep. You felt his tongue brush against your lower lip and gently coax your mouth open to kiss you harder, and it was warm and wet and perfect. As your need got worse, you began to grind down on him again, sighing into his mouth from the friction.
The hand he had on your neck moved up to tangle in your hair, tugging gently, while the other one shifted to settle on your lower back as he encouraged harder, slower movements of your hips. As he forced you down against him, the feeling of the rough denim on your clit through your thin panties caused you to whine quietly. Every slight movement sent sparks shooting up your spine.
You shifted your body backwards and reached down between you to tug at his zipper, but it didn't want to come down. Frank let you struggle with it for a moment, but just as you started getting frustrated, he took over for you.
In one swift movement, you were on your back underneath him, your legs still hooked around him. He sat up for a moment to pull off his shirt (revealing his fucking perfect abs that seemed completely unfair and you were about to LOSE YOUR MIND BECAUSE HOLY SHIT) and then he was back on top of you, pressing one last kiss to your lips before pulling away to look you in the eyes.
"You sure you want this, sweetheart?"
"Don't you fucking dare leave me like this, Castle."
Frank snorted, rolling his eyes affectionately. "Yes, ma'am."
With one hand, he reached down to unzip and tug down his pants and underwear, freeing his flushed cock from it's uncomfortable confines. It was bigger than you expected it to be, which is saying something because you already knew he was big from rubbing against it. He was so hard it looked painful, and he gave himself a few tugs to take the edge off. Just watching it drip onto the bed had you feeling dizzy. You were unbearably wet and all you wanted was to feel it inside of you.
Luckily, Frank seemed to tell as much, because he slid his hand up your thigh, kissing your neck gently and pushing the hem of your nightgown up to your stomach. He hooked the fingers of one hand in the waistband of your underwear but he paused there, waiting for some sort of go-ahead. You nodded at him, and he sat back again to tug your panties down your legs and pull them off.
This time, instead of immediately climbing back on top of you, Frank took a moment to admire you from an upright position. He gazed hungrily at your exposed cunt before swiping a finger through your folds and brushing your clit with the pad of his thumb. You jolted at the feeling, whimpering when he did it again just to watch you shudder.
"Frankie, please," you whined.
Frank decided to have mercy on you, and he came up to kiss you as he lined the tip of his cock up with your aching hole. He pushed slowly until the thick head was all the way in, surrounded by your soft, fluttering walls. It was a stretch, and it wasn't even half-way in. You appreciated Frank giving you a moment to adjust, but you didn't want one. You wanted to feel all of him, even if it hurt.
Hooking your legs tighter around him, you tried to push him into you. It didn't work, obviously. You didn't think you could move Frank if you barreled into him full-force, but he got the message.
In one smooth thrust, he buried himself fully inside you, grunting loudly and whispering an "Oh, fuck" into your neck. Your back arched up off the bed and you moaned loudly as his cock hit sweet spots inside you that you didn't even know existed.
Having Frank hovering over you, connected to you in so many ways, was easily the best thing you'd ever experienced. You were both breathing heavily and shaking as you waited for the initial pleasure shock to wear off.
Once you adjusted, you shifted slightly under him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. Whatever stimulation you managed to get from that was nothing compared to when he actually started moving. Each thrust was slow and deep, sending waves of bliss coursing through you. You couldn't stop the gasps and whimpers that kept escaping, nor did you want to.
Franks arms were on either side of your head, closing you in so all you could see and feel was him. You had never felt so safe in your entire life. Every movement was so complete and perfect. Nothing was rushed or forceful, but it was still all pure pleasure. You were sure you had never been this wet before.
Feeling Frank's back muscles shift under your fingertips as he thrust into you was mesmerizing, and hearing him moan softly and curse against your pulse point was sending shivers through your body. Every time Frank pushed his cock back inside you, you felt yourself ascending further, rapidly approaching your peak. Every time he pulled out slowly so you could feel it dragging against every part of your sensitive walls, you wanted to sob from feeling so good.
It wasn't long before you were crying out from your release, tightening your grip on every part of Frank and leaving long scratches down his back. When your climax finally hit, you swore you were having an out-of-body experience.
"Attagirl, that's it," Frank whispered as he felt you spasm around him. "Oh, fuck, sweetheart. Where-" he began. Reluctantly, you rubbed your hand on your stomach. You hadn't had access to birth control in almost six weeks and shitty motels don't provide condoms. Even the ones with good water pressure.
You rubbed the back of Frank's head gently as his thrusts grew more erratic, grabbing onto and playing with his hair. Suddenly, he pulled out of you and jerked his cock barely three times before he was finishing on your stomach with a quiet groan, painting it with his cum.
Breathing heavily, the two of you collapsed next to each other, coming down from your highs and processing what just happened. Idly, you began playing with the mess on your stomach as you thought about what was next for the two of you. There was no way in hell you were letting Frank drop you off at your house and just take off after that. You know you said "It's over," but it couldn't really be over, right?
"Stay with me," you whispered.
"I'm not goin' anywhere, baby."
"I'm not talking about tonight. When you take me back home, stay with me."
Frank pushed himself up on one elbow, looking at you in disbelief. "Sweetheart, I don't think I can-"
"Then I'll stay with you. My house is a family heirloom, I've only gotta pay for water and electricity. It'll still be waiting for me whenever I need it."
"I can't let you do that. You have no idea how much I want to, but I'd get you killed."
"Then stop moving for a while. No one would find you in that town. Just stay with me. Please. If you hate it, you can leave."
Frank sighed, glancing around the room before settling his gaze back on you. He brought his hand to your face, brushing his fingertips down your cheek like you were a precious artifact. You both knew he wasn't ready to let you go.
"Okay."
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ
#jon bernthal#frank castle#frank castle x reader#frank castle smut#jon bernthal x reader#jon bernthal smut#frank castle fanfiction
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✨Slip Into Me: Part 1 Saved Before Dusk✨
QZ! Joel x fem! reader
Series Masterlist Kofi
A/N: This just stumbled upon me when I was driving home from work this week, so I wrote this in about a day. I’m still not sure how I feel about the first chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for giving this a read for me! (I cannot keep up with tags, so be sure to go follow my notifications blog if you want to be notified when I post @mermaidgirl30-updates)
Chapter Summary: You run into trouble with one of the FEDRA soldiers, but a broad, handsome stranger comes along and intervenes.
Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)
Chapter Tags: QZ! Joel, outbreak au, FEDRA soldier tries to attack reader, Joel steps in and saves reader, soft Joel, a bit of pining and a little flirting, eventual smut in next chapter, no use y/n
Word Count: 6.1k
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
The Boston QZ is grimy, filthy, overrun with FEDRA soldiers who stalk and parade up and down the city of turmoil. Their tanks fill the streets night and day, ordering people around as if they were their own personal slaves. The buildings are rundown, furniture tattered and torn, bodies filing in and out day after day just trying to survive off the little ration cards they collect every week.
It’s not a place you wanted to stumble upon, not a home at all. But this was where you’d stay for now because your group was all gone, killed by feral raiders who murdered your friends in cold blood. You were the only one left, untouched in an infected world. You were lucky to make it out alive, but at what cost? You sure as hell didn’t want to stay here in this cage. But you guess it’s better than being attacked by infected or murdered in your sleep.
They offered you a little apartment, ration cards for a hard day’s work cleaning and organizing weapons for FEDRA. You don’t trust any of the soldiers, don’t dare look them in the eyes most days, only when you have to. Maybe one day you’ll make it out of here alive, but for now this place is giving you shelter, food, running water, electricity. It sure beats living on your own out in the woods somewhere where no one else can defend you. You’ve learned to be on your own, but that doesn’t mean you like it.
The air is warm as dusk draws near, the summer heat stifling even as you walk through the shade. Your shift is over, dinner gone and finished, so now it’s time to go back to your cold, lonely apartment. Maybe tonight you’ll actually get some decent sleep instead of waking up screaming from nightmares of distant times. You still see faces of loved ones you lost get murdered by infected and raiders, friends starve to death, companions freeze to death. You don’t know how you made it all this way, but you did. You had to stop holding on to the past, it wasn’t coming back for you.
You swipe your fingers against the cool bricks of falling apart buildings, making your way through the narrow alleyway that’ll lead to your apartment building. Just as you pass a stairwell on the side of the brick building, a dark shadow makes its way toward you.
You freeze, stopping dead in your tracks, fingertips still tracing the rough bricks. There’s a tall FEDRA man walking toward you. Navy blue pants, combat boots, a camouflage vest strapped tight to his chest. He looks menacing. Piercing blue eyes narrowing your way, coarse blonde locks that look like pure ice, a large scar running down the side of his dirty neck, and fists locked tight at his sides.
“Hey, girl. What do you think you’re doing out here all alone? Up to no good I suppose?” he asks as he stalks toward you like a hungry tiger, eyes locked with yours as a smirk meets his chapped lips.
You back up to the brick wall, feeling like you could sink like jello into the dusty cracks of the brown faded bricks. You have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. You’re trapped like a helpless little mouse. “No, I’m just trying to get back to my apartment.”
“Sun’s about to go down, shouldn’t be out so late in the day close to curfew. You’re up to no good, aren’t ya? Trying to sneak around and steal some ration cards?”
“No, I…”
“Don’t lie!” He bites back, jaw seething as he pulls your wrist and clamps down on your skin. It feels like wires setting your nerves on fire, like he’s ripping through your delicate bones.
“Please, I’m only trying to get back. Let me go,” you beg, using all your might to get out of his tight grip.
“I don’t think so, love. Thieves get searched, and I’m gonna search you till I find what I’m looking for,” he snarks.
Before you can fight your way out of this mess, he spins you around and pins you to the wall, slamming your face into the sharp bricks as you cry out in pain. He crowds your body, digging his fingers into your hips as his other hand shoves your face against the searing surface. You can’t break free, can’t fight your way out of this. He’s too strong, too overpowering. You’re completely helpless.
“Please, stop,” you whine, feeling a warm tear slip down your cheek.
“No, I don’t think so, doll. Think I’ll stay right here between your…”
Before he can finish his sentence, you hear a deep gruff voice growl behind you. “Get the fuck off her, Seth.” You feel the soldier’s weight being dragged off you, hear the sounds of a body being thrown into the side of the opposite wall.
You spin around and freeze, watching a stranger punch the soldier’s face with bruised knuckles. The soldier spits blood from his mouth, but the other man grabs the edge of his navy collar and pins his back against the brick wall.
“Think you’re a tough guy, Seth? Think it’s alright to put your filthy hands on her? I’m sure she didn’t ask you to, so mind your fuckin’ manners and keep your goddamn paws off her,” he growls, spitting up into the soldier’s wide eyes.
You don’t know what to do, what to think. All your brain can do is eye the back of the man who saved you. He’s tall, so very broad, wide shoulders, tousled dark curls that probably feel like silk. His green flannel is rolled up to his elbows, exposing cascading veins that drape down his tanned skin, ending in massive calloused hands. His dark jeans are faded, worn brown boots covering his feet. He looks like your knight in shining armor, your saving grace. Why he saved you, you don’t know. But you want to find out, now.
The soldier laughs in his face, but he only grips his collar tighter as he sends another punch to his swollen eye. When he spits more blood, he turns back to your savior and laughs casually like he didn’t just get beaten up. “Fancy meeting you here, Miller. Say, you ever find those cigarettes and drugs we sent you out for?”
He clenches his jaw, releasing his collar so he can push the soldier again against the wall. “Ain’t got nothin’ for you, Seth. You want some, you can give me more ration cards,” he hisses.
The soldier laughs, shaking his head back and forth. “Five,” he wagers.
“Ten,” the broad man demands with narrowed eyes.
He raises his hands in defeat and sighs. “Fine, ten it is. Just hurry up with my order, will ya?”
The other man slaps his face, hard. You can practically hear the split of a rubber band snapping against skin. The soldier cowers over, holding the side of his mouth in pain as he stands back up slowly. “Tell me to hurry up one more time, and I’ll break your jaw,” he seethes. “I’ll do it when I’m good and ready, Seth. You’ll be the very last.”
He narrows his cold blue eyes, pointing a finger accusingly at the man who saved you. “Better watch it, Miller.”
“You threatening me? I shouldn’t be the one that’s careful, you be careful. Wait till Tess hears about this,” he growls with furrowed eyebrows.
Seth backs up all wide-eyed and bruised, like he’s afraid of the name Tess. Before he can get anywhere, the broad bodied man nods his head to him. “Get out of here, and don’t mess with this girl again. Got it?” he growls with the bite of his scowling jaw.
Seth looks over at you and nods before he runs off in the opposite direction, clutching his vest like it’s the only thing keeping him at bay.
He huffs out a deep breath and turns to you, furrowed eyebrows turning into a contemplative, concerned expression. Your eyes go wide, taking in the front of his face for the first time. He’s absolutely gorgeous. Dark brown eyes that look like pools of honey hone your vision, sweaty, tanned skin glistening in the fading light of day. His dark beard is threaded with silver, a strong jaw set with plush lips that half open when he looks at you. He’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, and he’s so fucking broad. You decide then that his eyes could kill, they could devastate anyone in their wake by how beautiful they are. Warm chocolate eyes flecked with wisps of honey brown. Absolutely breathtaking.
“You alright there?” he asks with concern lathered in his voice, careful with his large steps as he walks up to you.
“Oh, I’m… yeah, I’m fine,” you breathe out, suddenly forgetful on how to take deep breaths. Your heart is racing wildly, you swear it’s about to fly out of your chest.
He reaches out, but stops himself. Instead, he just points out the left side of your face. “Your face. You’re hurt,” he says with a scowl, clenching his hand into a tight fist at his side like he’s furious at the soldier for hurting you.
Your hand shoots up to the side of your face, and that’s when you feel it. The blood, the aching feeling of having your face bashed into the hard bricks. “Ahh, fuck,” you whine, hissing when you try to brush your fingertips over the swelling area.
“Here, c’mon. Follow me. I’ll get ya taken care of. I’ve got supplies back at my place. Can fix ya up in no time,” he offers as he nods his head for you to follow. You stay put, weighing your options. You don’t know this man, but he saved you, so he must be safe.
He takes a few steps forward and turns back around when he doesn’t see you following. “You comin’?” he asks with hope in his brown eyes.
You take a moment to breathe and then nod, agreeing to go with him. “Yeah, lead the way.”
You follow after him, letting him lead you away from the narrow, dark alleyway. When you get on the sidewalk of the main street you notice he walks on the outside of you, like he’s shielding you from any other soldiers who might give you a hard time. You don’t know why he does it, but you owe him a huge debt now.
You cross your arms over your teal t-shirt, looking up at the tall man who saved your life while he leads you to building two where he must live. You’re about to speak, but he beats you to it. “You know, you shouldn’t be out alone when the sun’s about to go down. A bunch of no good soldiers swarmin’ the streets here. What were you even doin’ out?” he asks, turning to a stairwell where he leads you up to the second floor.
“I was just heading back to my apartment. I got a late start with work today, had some things to finish up.”
He hums, looking back at you with furrowed brows. “Next time walk back with someone. Seth ain’t the only lowlife soldier. Gotta be more careful,” he tsks as he takes out a golden key in the pocket of his denim jeans.
You sigh, feeling as if he’s somehow blaming you for not knowing the safety rules around here. “Look, I’m new here. I didn’t know any better. I was just trying to get back to my place. I didn’t… I didn’t…”
“Whoa, hey. S’alright. Nobody said you did anythin’ wrong. I’m jus’ sayin’ watch yourself. Alright?” he asks with his hands raised, like he means no harm.
You drop your guard and sigh. “Sorry, just a little on edge,” you mutter.
“Don’t blame ya one bit. Now, c’mon. Take a seat at the table. I’ll get you a warm washcloth,” he instructs as he opens the rusted red door, the hinges squeaking while you make your way into his little apartment.
He shuts the door, and you take in your surroundings. The walls are covered with chipped white paint, the kitchen tiny, a little solid wooden table surrounded by two brown dining room chairs. The living room is open, a sunken leather couch with a broken coffee table sitting in the middle of an old, threaded blue rug. White satin stain coated curtains cover the glass window, and light shines dimly throughout the small apartment. It’s worn down, but it’s cozy enough.
You make your way over to one of the chairs, slowly pulling it back as to not make it drag across the hardwood floor. When you get comfy in the back of the chair, you watch Joel disappear into the other room, listening to the trickle of a running faucet while the bathroom light shines down the narrow hallway.
You fidget your fingers together, tapping your foot nervously on the dusty floor. You’re in his apartment, the man who just saved your life. And he’s tall, broad, and devastatingly handsome. His looks could surely kill a man with just the gaze of those dark flecked eyes. He had danger written all over those honey colored eyes. Eyes that could eat you alive.
He comes back down the hall a minute later, tan washcloth in hand, flannel sleeves rolled up to his elbows, corded veins skating all the way down to his massive hands. You’re nervous just by those large, thick fingers grasping the washcloth. You wonder what they’d feel like on your skin. Maybe like burning fire, hot charcoal, extreme heat rushing off his rough fingertips. He might feel like wildfire.
He pulls up the kitchen chair across from you and grunts when he sits, like his whole body hurts from the weight of working in the summer heat of the QZ. “Look up for me,” he requests, sliding his chair a tad bit closer to yours, enough to brush his knees against yours.
You gasp when his fingertips meet your skin, his hand cupping your chin and turning your injured cheek to where he can reach you. You were right. His fingers do feel like wildfire, calluses gliding against your smooth skin as he gets a good hold on you. It’s almost enough to send you jolting from the chair.
“This might sting a bit. Jus’ hold still,” he says gently, a deep voice escaping behind plush lips. You wince a little when the warm material meets your wound, but you relax when he gives you that certain look that says be still.
You hiss a little at the contact of the warm cloth across the scrapes on the side of your face. He makes eye contact with you and asks with those deep brown eyes if you’re okay, stopping his movements for just a second before you nod and let him continue.
From here you can see how clear the dark flecks in his eyes shine, a faint red scar above his right eye, silver threaded coarse beard that looks almost soft to the touch, and pink lips that look so inviting. He watches you study him, his own eyes flicking back and forth from your injury to your eyes, silently assessing you with a wary stare.
You see it in his eyes, he’s curious about you, maybe interested, but he doesn’t give much away. You see pain behind those dark irises, a worn body just getting by in the QZ day after day. You don’t know him, but you can tell this much. He’s reserved, quiet, careful, a man that keeps his guard up. You’d like to see behind those walls, if only for a moment. See what all he’s really been through.
After a couple more seconds of silence he finally talks. “You new here? Haven’t seen you around these parts before.”
You nod, watching him trace the edges of the warm washcloth across your cheek. “Yeah. Just got here a couple weeks ago,” you murmur, clenching your jaw when he rubs against a really sore area of your cheek.
“What the hell brought you here?” He says it rough, like he can’t believe anyone would ever dare come here by their own will.
“Raiders attacked my group. I was the only one left alive, and I just sort of stumbled upon the QZ gates. One of the soldiers found me and offered me a place here.”
He hums, dark eyes assessing you slowly, sliding down your body briefly as something twists in your stomach at the sight of him really taking a good look at you. “M’sorry ‘bout your group, but I’m more sorry you ended up here in this hell hole. FEDRA runs this place, and none of ‘em are remotely friendly. Especially Seth.” He spits the name out like it’s poison on his tongue, and you see he can’t stand the man that attacked you.
You purse your lips and ask him the same. “And you? Why are you here?”
He drops the washcloth from your skin, clenching his jaw as he stares with a hardline drawn on his forehead, shaping wrinkles across tanned skin. “That’s a long story that I don’t feel like answerin’ right now.”
Before he brings the lukewarm washcloth back up you grab his wrist, preventing him from lifting his arm further. He stares at you, eyes partly narrowed, challenging you to ask him again. “At least tell me where you’re from. Your accent, are you from the south?”
He leans back in his chair and sighs, nodding his head slowly. “Came from Austin, Texas. And you?” He raises his thick eyebrows like you owe him the same gratitude of telling him where you’re from.
“California. Northern part,” you answer, listening to him hum once again until he brings the washcloth back to your temple.
“You’re a little far from home ain’t ya?” he asks quietly while he brushes the soft material over your face.
“Unfortunately,” you mumble under your breath. Another flick of those pools of honey your way and you see a hint of concern, maybe even sadness buried in those flecks of darkness. He seems to have so many layers to him. You want to unravel them, unfold every piece and dig into his past, his present, his mind. And maybe you’ll get there, one day. Maybe, just maybe…
You suddenly realize you don’t even know his name, how have you not asked him yet? You heard the soldier say Miller. Maybe that was his last name.
You pick at the fading denim of your jeans and raise your eyes to his hesitantly. “Your name. I didn’t catch it.”
Another brush to your raw skin, and his soft brown eyes meet yours. “Joel Miller. And your name is?” he asks with a piqued interest, raising his eyebrows slightly. You tell him your name and he says it back to you slowly, another flick of his dark eyes over your body. Like he’s memorizing you entirely. Your name, your shape, your essence. It makes the room sticky and hot at the sight of his eyes exploring you, even if it means nothing.
“Joel…” you repeat, slowly spilling the syllables off the tip of your tongue.
“That’s right…” He says your name again slowly, like honey dripping off his warm tongue, every murmur and gruff sound making you a bit dizzy.
“You’re gonna be alright. Might bruise up a bit, but nothing that’ll last long. Gonna be sore tonight, jus’ clean it good and keep it dry. Ain’t gonna scar over,” he says as he nods to your face.
He cups your chin again, turning you slightly to him as his calloused fingertips brush a strand of hair behind the slope of your ear, breathing down your neck as you finally smell him. He smells woodsy, summer sweat kissing the air, cheap whiskey filling your senses. Then he looks deep in your eyes, one hand falling slowly to the top of the table, fingertips curling over the scratched wood, his jaw flexing as his eyes travel down to your lips for just a second, a breath in time. And suddenly you’re frozen in place, waiting for something to happen, something that shouldn’t happen. He wouldn’t, he’s not…
Another soft graze of his rough knuckles to your cheek and then the front door slams open, sending both of you back in your chairs.
“Joel! Got some information for you about the drugs we gotta… Oh.” She stops in the doorway, eyes wide as she looks at you, surprised Joel has company. She’s tall, thin but built with muscle. She’s strong, long brunette hair, and hazel eyes clouding her vision.
“Joel Miller has company? Who might this be?” she asks curiously, slamming the door shut with a bang as she folds her arms over chest and nods your way.
Joel introduces you two, and you quickly learn her name is Tess. “Nice to meet you, Tess,” you say with a small smile, your arm resting on the edge of the table.
“Likewise. What happened to you? Looks like you got knocked up pretty good there.”
“It was Seth. Fucker had her pinned against one of the alleyway walls and was givin’ her trouble,” Joel spits as he flashes his incisors Tess’s way.
“That piece of shit. Wait till I get a hold of him, gonna make him wish he never saw the light of day,” she scoffs.
“He’ll be running for the hills, Tess,” he chuckles as he places his meaty hands on top of his large thighs. “What’d ya need?”
Tess leans up against the fading wallpaper and throws him a pack of chewing gum. “Found this when I was outside the walls today, but just wanted to check in about tomorrow. Wanted to go over the plans before we head out in the morning. I can come back later though and discuss it.”
Tess’s hazel eyes wander over to you, and she gives you a welcoming smile. “So, how long have you been here? Not long because I would’ve noticed a new face.”
“Just a couple weeks. Just getting settled in,” you reply as you play absentmindedly with your hair.
“Where do they have you working at? I can always stop by, give you some tips, show you around the area. I’m sure you could use a friend.”
You nod and smile up at her. “Yeah, thanks. They’ve got me working down at the weapons station. Cleaning and sorting and whatever else they tell me to do.”
“I see. I’m sure that gets redundant and boring, so maybe I can show you a thing or two to not lose your mind in this shithole,” Tess replies, making her way over to Joel.
“You’re lucky this one was around,” Tess says with a firm slap to Joel’s back, stifling a grunt from him as he pushes Tess playfully in the arm. “Joel can be a real pain in the ass, but he’s sure nice to have around.”
“Yeah yeah, shut up. Thanks for the gum,” Joel chuckles as he pushes the pack of Spearmint gum into the pocket of his jeans.
“Sure thing, handsome. I’ll see you later.” She waves and gives you a nod before heading out the door. “Welcome to the Boston QZ again.” Tess makes her grand exit and shuts the door loudly, her footsteps fading into the distance.
You twist your hands in your lap, suddenly overstimulated by the presence of an intimidating woman who clearly gets her way in the QZ. You wish you were stronger, braver, more outspoken like her. And clearly she knows how to pull Joel’s strings. You’re not jealous of her, only slightly envious that she has Joel hooked around her finger.
“She seems nice,” you say slowly, looking over at Joel as he laughs at your words.
“Yeah, she ain’t too bad. Trust me, she’ll be having Seth shakin’ like a dog out in the freezin’ rain,” he chuckles.
You laugh at his words, but suddenly you’re asking something you shouldn’t be. “Are you guys like… together?” you ask nervously, gulping down the rest of your words as you hold your breath like you’re underwater.
“Me and Tess? Nah,” he laughs, shaking his head at the mention of it. “She’s my neighbor. But we work together, she’s my partner. We smuggle things for FEDRA.”
“Smuggle things?” you ask, confused by what he means.
He leans forward and places his hands on the table. “Yeah, smuggle things. Items, sometimes people, whatever they need. We go out on a bunch of missions. Searching abandoned buildings, makin’ trades, doin’ deals with folks around here and for some of the soldiers. Kind of an easy way to get extra supplies and ration cards.”
“So you’ve got sway with the soldiers here?” you ask curiously.
“More or less. Tess is the one with the real sway, but I guess you can say people kinda fear me. They don’t really mess with me. Hell, they know not to.” He knocks his knuckles against the edge of the table, and you reach up to scratch your face, wincing when you forget how god awful sore it is.
“Shit, I forgot about my face,” you whine, gripping the edge of your denim tight as you sink your nail beds into your thigh.
“Careful there, try not to mess with it,” he warns softly, bringing back the cool washcloth to your scratches. You sit back and let him tend to your wound, watching how careful he's being with every swipe of the cloth to your fragile skin.
He’s close again, close enough to where you can smell him, inhaling the woodsy scent as summer sweat mixes with the pinecone scent. You could get drunk off the smell, and you really hope it’ll stick to your clothes when you’re back in your apartment, alone with your delusions of having his large hands all over your skin.
You watch the way his large biceps cling against his flannel shirt, like he’ll rip the soft material at any given moment. His knees brush against yours, fingertips grazing your jawline like the edge of a soft feather, enough to send tingles down your spine.
“Is it just you here?” you ask while he holds the damp cloth to your cheek.
“Jus’ me,” he murmurs, dark eyes flicking back to yours.
“Do you have family around. Anywhere?” you ask cautiously. His jaw clenches, and his lip quivers while he analyzes the question, figuring out if he wants to answer or not.
He sighs, “I’ve got a brother. Tommy.”
“Here?”
“Nah. Haven’t talked to him in years. Last I heard he was settling in Jackson, Wyoming,” he mutters, clearly annoyed about the topic of conversation.
“Why don’t you go find your brother?” you ask, conflicted if you should continue the questions.
“It’s complicated,” he grumbles.
“What’s so complicated?”
“He’s halfway across the country.”
“So?” you say mockingly.
“So? That’s a hell of a ways to go to find someone that I’m not sure even wants to see me,” he says with gritted teeth.
“Joel, I’m sure he wouldn’t be upset. What makes you think he wouldn’t want to see you?”
“We got into a bad fight, and we weren't agreeing on some things. Turns out we wanted different things, so I told him to leave, and he went. Followed some fireflies, hell if I know how long he actually stayed with them,” he scoffs, digging his worn boot into the wooden floor.
“Fireflies?” you ask with wide eyes.
“That’s what I said,” he grumbles with furrowed brows, getting annoyed with you already, but you just keep talking.
“Oh, that’s… well, that’s something. But I’m sure he’d want you to try to reach out. Would you go, if you thought he would? Do you have any other family?” you ask intrigued, pulling yourself to the edge of the seat.
He leans back and drops the washcloth to the table, sighing as he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “You sure do ask a bunch of questions, don’t ya?” he huffs, crossing his arms as a hard line maps across his forehead.
“Well, I’m just saying. If I had family still alive I sure as hell would go find them, not stand back and watch them slip away from me! I fucking wish I had mine!” Your words come out louder, harsher than you mean to, and Joel’s just sitting there, staring at you with wide eyes and an expression you can’t quite read.
The room is suddenly silent, only the sounds of your labored breathing and teary eyes fogging up the room. You shouldn’t have snapped, shouldn’t have thrown that back in his face. You shouldn’t have pried, now look what you’ve done. “Sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to say it like that.”
He opens his mouth partially, big brown eyes lathered in concern holding your gaze. He looks like he understands your pain, maybe just a fraction of that. But he doesn’t share it with you. “S’alright. Don’t gotta apologize. Think we both jus’ over shared a little too much.”
You nod, biting your tongue from saying anything else stupid. What’s wrong with you? “Yeah, guess so.” You take a deep breath, hearing him scrape his chair back while his left arm rests on the edge of the table.
You see it then, a black military watch clasped to his wrist, the glass broken and arms not moving on the watch. It’s broken, just a mere memory of some sort that you want to unlock, but now is not the time.
“Think I should get you back to your place,” he says in a deep voice, one that says he’s finished talking about family matters.
“Yeah, okay,” you say quietly.
“Where are you stayin’ at?”
“I’m in building four.”
“Alright then. That ain’t too far. C’mon, I’ll walk you back. Make sure no soldiers give ya a hard time,” he says through clenched teeth.
“Joel, wait.” Before he can push himself up, you rest your hand on top of his, feeling his warm skin simmer underneath yours.
He stares at your hand on his, ticking his jaw nervously as his brown doe eyes fall back on yours. “Thank you, for today, for saving me.”
“It was nothin’, don’t mention it,” he murmurs, sliding his hand out from under yours, memorizing the way his hand feels like fire underneath yours, mourning the loss of his skin on yours.
“I owe you.”
He looks at you with a serious gaze, his thick fingers clamping down on the material of his flannel. “Don’t owe me a damn thing, sweetheart. I’d do it all over if I had to.”
Oh.
His jaw twitches, amber eyes glowing into yours, a sudden tension filling the room. It feels a lot like longing, understanding, some kind of connection. But the spark of it snaps when he pulls back his chair and stands, nodding for you to follow him. “C’mon, let’s get you back before we break curfew.”
He leads you out of his apartment, down the rickety stairs and steers you through the winding buildings, avoiding FEDRA’s eyes on the main road. His fingertips brush against yours as he walks briskly next to you, staying near and looking every which way as to not have another run in with a soldier.
The city is musty, old brick buildings barely staying intact. Military tanks litter the streets while old broken down cars sit to rot around the QZ. You stay close to Joel, keeping quiet as he concentrates on getting you back to safety.
You should be grateful to him, you are grateful. He saved you, even though he really didn’t have to. He took care of your wounded cheek, made sure you got back to your place safely. You were eternally grateful for the broad man that showed you kindness when no one else did in this godforsaken city. Joel was a good man, as far as you could tell.
He leads you to your building, the one with the number four painted in white on the side of the old bricks. Your room is the first door on the right, a chip right next to the jiggling door handle.
You turn around and face him, leaning up against your solid oak door as you look up into those dark brown eyes you’ve grown accustomed of thinking about too much. “Thank you, Joel. For everything. Really, I owe you.”
He chuckles, running a hand through his tousled curls as he smiles a crooked grin your way. “Gotta stop sayin’ that, sweetheart. You gave me company, I’ll call that even enough.”
You swallow, nodding his way. “Alright then. I guess I’ll let you get back before they catch you outside your apartment.”
You turn around and twist the door handle, pushing it open until he stops you in your tracks and places his fingers around your wrist. “Wait a second.”
“Huh?” you ask, whipping back around to find him digging inside his back pocket and retrieving a little switchblade in his hand.
“Here.” He stretches his arm out and holds out the knife, nodding for you to take it. You just stare at it, your mouth open wide without even taking a step forward to take it.
“Well, go on. Take it.” He steps forward, brushing against your knuckles as he pries your fingers open and drops the knife in your palm, closing your fingers over the switchblade so you have no option but to keep it.
“Oh, no. Joel, I can’t. This is yours,” you argue.
He tsks your way, clicking his tongue and urging you to listen. “Keep it, I’d feel better knowin’ you had somethin’ to defend yourself with. Ya know if someone tries to mess with you again. Jus’ be careful with it,” he instructs.
You open your palm and assess the bronze blade, tracing the cold edges, watching the glisten of the sharp tip reflect off your eyes. You close it up and slide it in your pocket, looking back at Joel with a wide smile. “Thanks, Joel. You didn’t have to.”
“I did and stop thankin’ me. I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Jus’ want you to be safe is all,” he murmurs, his deep voice carrying through your ears as he pushes his hands nervously in his jean pockets.
“Oh, I see.” Your voice comes out in a mere whisper, but he hears you through the hot wind that blows against your hair.
“Jus’ watch your back, okay? It ain’t easy around here, and you can’t trust anybody.”
“What about you?”
He knits his brows together and gives you a tight lipped smile. “You can trust me, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He cups your chin, rough fingertips meeting your soft skin. It almost feels electric, like his fingers are magic, and maybe he is. That’s what he feels like.
His eyes hover over your lips for just a second, peeling them back up to meet your wide eyes. He’s got a soft side to him, something someone would miss if they weren’t looking close enough. You have a feeling he doesn’t let his guard down with just anyone, but with you he did, if only for just a few seconds.
He drops his hand from your chin and steps back, keeping his eyes aligned with yours. “Guess I’ll see ya around,” he says, stepping back away from your apartment.
“Yeah, guess you will,” you breathe.
He nods your way and gives you a small smile. “Have a good night, trouble.”
“Trouble?” you question, laughing at the accusation.
“Yeah, that’s what I said. Trouble,” he chuckles as he makes his way back through the narrow buildings, disappearing with one more glance your way, capturing the deep brown eyes that look your way, memorizing them, burning them in the backs of your eyes so you can remember every fleck and sparkle of those sweet honey eyes.
You walk into your empty apartment and close the door, kicking off your shoes and dragging yourself to your falling apart mattress. You collapse into the cool white sheets, closing your eyes and replaying every glance, every touch, every word of you and Joel’s time together. You don’t know what’s come over you, but you clearly have fallen for the broad shouldered man with beautiful brown eyes.
Maybe the QZ wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it wouldn’t end you like you thought it would. Maybe just maybe Joel would be your saving grace. Maybe those honey glazed eyes would haunt your dreams until you saw him again. And that’s exactly what happened that night. All you saw were crystal clear brown eyes and tousled curls tracing through your fingertips, sheets drenched in the summer sweat of him. You knew then that you were fucked.
Tags: @milla-frenchy @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @aurorawritestoescape @akah565
@rav3n-pascal22 @keylimebeag
#joel miller#Joel miller x reader#joel the last of us#post outbreak joel#outbreak!joel#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x female reader#joel miller fic#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller pedro pascal#protective joel
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THE HIGHWAYMAN
Cowboy!Jake (Hangman) Seresin x Reader
• Series •
Summary: Jake Seresin: Highwayman. Riding along coach roads with his gang of the fellow Dagger Squad. But when his companion is in immediate need of a horse, they stop in a town Jake had avoided for the past 5 years. The place he’d left his beloved as a threat from her father, Sheriff Beau Simpson. But when he returns for good, Simpson isn’t having some highwayman get his way with his daughter. Not if he had anything to do with it.
Connotations to smut marked with *
Prologue
Chapter 1 - The Return to Miramar
Chapter 2 - Damned if you do; Damned if you don’t
Chapter 3 - The Dead Man Walking
Chapter 4 - A glass of Bourbon from Denison
Chapter 5* - A night worth dying for*
Chapter 6 - A bargain with the executioner
Chapter 7 - Listen to her gut
Chapter 8 - Unfinished business with a pistol
Chapter 9 - Please, not another 5 years
Chapter 10 - Gifts from Sacramento
Chapter 11 - May God have Mercy
Chapter 12 - A hanging in the Spring of ‘63
Chapter 13 - The girl with no father
Chapter 14 - You’re needed East
Chapter 15 - An apology is a blessing
Chapter 16* - A final goodbye and a first hello*
Epilogue
Fin.
#masterlist#xreader#smut#fluff#warner sister#angst#requests#x you#imagine#top gun#top gun masterlist#top gun maverick x reader#top gun maverick#top gun 1986#rooster#hangman#maverick#iceman#cyclone#top gun x reader#hangman x reader#Jake#Seresin#Jake Seresin x reader#cowboy#cowboy jake seresin#cowboy jake#cowboy Seresin#cowboy hangman#Johnny cash
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Dear Hearts and Gentle People 8
Summary: Cooper and his wandering trader come across a dangerous wasteland baby, and it's a good thing they're both a little crazy or he didn't think they could pull this off.
Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader
Warnings. Mhm. None this time? Just a fun Lil chapter
Masterlist
It's the sound of soft chirping that grabs your attention. You've been listening to it for the past ten minutes, and it's only grown louder the further you walk east. You look over your shoulder at Cooper, who rolls his eyes and catches up to you. He thinks that you're too curious for your own good. Shit would get you killed one of the days.
"We ain't gotta check out every sound we hear, smoothskin," He grumbles, but you won't be budged. You unfortunately had a bit of a bleeding heart when it came to animals, and you wouldn't leave this one without help either.
"Just a quick look. If it's fine, then we can go," She assures her ghoulish companion, and Cooper curses the sky, but follows after his smoothskin nonetheless.
You wind around some burnt out buildings and come to a sudden halt when you spot what's been making all the noise. Fear chokes you for half a second as you take in the carcass of a massive deathclaw. It's dark horns curving back and away from its long face, and you recognize it as a female. A dead one.
Cooper grabs you by the collar when you take a step forward, his dark eyes furious as he halts you, "The hell do you think you're doin', girl?"
"It's dead, Cooper," she snapped right back and shrugged out of her jacket, leaving it dangling from the ghoul's hand. You inch forward and peak over the bead body, only to come face to face with the cuties little wasteland baby you'd ever see. Your heart melts at the sight, and you round the carcass to crouch by the baby deathclaw.
"Cooper, it's horns haven't even grown in yet," you coo and watch the sandy colored baby chirp and cry. Its stubby legs waddling closer and closer to where you're crouched. You want to scoop it up and cuddle it close, but you aren't that irresponsible.
The ghoul shuts his eyes and prays to any deity that would listen to give him strength and patience to deal with you today. He closes the distance and squats beside you, eyes narrowed in on the dumb beast that takes two steps before tripping on its tail and falling face first into the sand.
"We should kill it. It won't survive out here without its momma," Cooper says and stands up to draw his side arm, pointing the barrel at the little ones head. The deathclaw is saved by his smoothskin, placing a hand in the weapon and lowering it, and he looks over to see a calculating, shit eating grin playing across your lips.
He knows what you're thinking with just a glance, and a great sigh explodes out of his lungs, "This is a terrible idea, Sweetheart."
You scoff and dig in your backpack, retrieving some wrapped chunks of meat that you toss to the baby. The deathclaw coos and chops or up, and they get a good look at the dangerous teeth inside its tiny mouth. Still hungry, the baby chirps and toddles over to sit in front of you, its reptilian eyes begging for more.
You grin and toss it the rest of the meat, glancing back up to Cooper to see him shaking his head.
"I think it's a wonderful idea," you say and then reach out to carefully pat the baby deatbclaw on the head, "Welcome to the club, Dusty."
*notes.* this was inspired by some lovely fanart by a couple of artists here on Tumblr. I couldn't find their named but I wanted to give credit where credit is due! ❤️*
P.s. I was rereading the Dusty parts of this series and realized that I was also inspired by an old fo3 fic back on fanfic.net. I'm not sure if it's still there, but it was fantastic! Credit if the creator ever sees this!
#cooper howard#fallout#fallout prime#fallout tv series#cooper howard x reader#x reader#the ghoul x reader#dear hears and gentle people#deathclaws
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[The Spawn Vs The Ascendant]
Astarion(s) x Tav
Plot: I made a post a while back about Ascended Astarion meeting Spawn Astarion via multiversal timeline shenanigans and legit maybe one person shared a fic with a similar premise.
So basically I was like *puts on infinity gauntlet* “Fine, I'll do it myself.”
Content Warning// 18+ for Sexual humor and suggestive themes. I legit have not been in the fanfiction business in years so go easy on me.
Characters might be ooc. Spelling/Grammar mistakes may be present. A wee bit of blood and violence. Gale is made fun of. Tav is based heavily off my human druid Tav, Winnie and uses She/Her pronouns.//
Possible Triggers: Ascended Astarion, kidnapping, mentioned character death, possessiveness, obsession, AA touches Tav without her consent (not sexually tho), Galeshaming.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Ah, the Elfsong. There was really no better place to unwind after a long day of adventuring. And there was really nothing better to help one unwind than a favorite snack, a cold drink and lovely company. Unfortunately for Tav she'd have to wait up on the company as her beloved was currently preoccupied with his nightly grooming. Gods only know how long that man will take doing his hair. The human female rolled her eyes and brought her wine bottle to her lips taking a few swigs before biting into some cheese she'd been nibbling on prior. Tav lounged about on their shared bed wearing nothing but a black tank and red boxers. Despite the peace and relaxation she was getting pretty bored without her love to snuggle and gossip with. Tav finished off the last few bites of cheese before she pulled out the private journal she'd been keeping since this whole adventure began. Little doodles of her partner decorated the pages along with her chicken scratch handwriting.
She had documented details of their adventure whenever she had the chance and also took the time to add various doodles of her companions and any monsters they encountered. (Some of her favorite drawings included herself opening a bottle and releasing a spectator. And of course a lovely little drawing of her and Astarion kicking the shit out of Cazador.)
As she waited Tav began to entertain herself by writing down a to-do list.
“Ah lets see…Yep definitely gonna have to have a chat with that pompous prick who was threatening a kid the other day. Maybe I can invite him back to the tavern later? I'm sure Star wouldn't mind having a snack.” Tav hummed, scribbling down everything she had planned out as of late.
Shit I need to do:
‘Feed rich tit to boyfriend.’
‘Teach Shadowheart to swim.’
‘Buy Clive a best friend.’
‘Murder baddies.’
‘Wildshape into a pigeon and shit on Gortash's head.’
‘Buy boyfriend cute clothes.’
‘Take Gale shopping for wizardy stuff.’
‘Look into real estate in the Underdark.’
‘Take Scratch for a walk.’
‘Kill more bad people.’
‘Contemplate licking dead spider.’
‘Be screamed at by Gale for licking dead spider.’
‘Buy flowers for Karlach and Shadowheart.’
‘Buy boyfriend more cute clothes.’
‘Study wizard stuff.’
‘Help Moon Lesbians plan wedding.’
‘Research ring of the sunwalker.’
‘Piss off the Gods……Again…’
‘Remember to take Astarion on romantic beach date before fighting the Elder Brain.’
‘Unalive people of not goodness.’
‘Shave Gale’s beard while he sleeps.’
‘Continue writing smutty novel series so I can keep buying boyfriend cute clothes.’
“Tav, a word please.” Gale appeared from around the corner. Tav groaned, annoyed by the prospect of having to get up. Especially since Gale looked like he was going to scold her for something. Begrudgingly she hopped off the bed, leaving the comfort of her room to see what in the hells that damn wizard wanted.
“What do you need, Gale? I'm kinda in the middle of writing down my to-do list.”
“Am I inclined to believe that you've been writing erotic novels that feature Astarion and I?” The wizard inquired.
“Pfft! What in the hells gave you that idea!” Tav laughed, her eyes staring off to the side nervously as she twiddled her thumbs. Gale pulled out a red leather bound book titled ‘Blood-Mage’. It was a ridiculously smutty novel about a young handsome sorcerer named Garrett Delarous who is reluctantly forced to team up with a dastardly, but world endingly beautiful Vampire Lord in order to save the world or some shit. (The book mostly focused more on smut than plot.) Amazingly the novel had made a killing after Tav had peddled it at Sharess's Caress. It seemed nearly everyone wanted a copy. (Tav was also pretty sure she noticed Halsin was reading the book as well.)
“My series is about a renowned sorcerer and a Vampire Lord. There's a difference, Gale.” Tav crossed her arms with a huff.
“You can't just profit off of other people's likenesses Tav! You at least need to pay them royalties!”
“I always give half the money I earn to Astarion.”
“I’m talking about me!”
“I think my beloved ‘gloves of power’ were more than enough payment for you.” Tav huffed before looking off to the side with a sad look.
I miss those gloves so much.
Gale sighed in annoyance, pinching the bride of his nose. He was used to Tav’s shenanigans at this point but this was just ridiculous. Not to mention while skimming through Tav's scandalous work he noticed the sorcerer was always on the bottom during intimate scenes. The audacity!
“Besides I use the money I make from this for not only myself and Astarion, but the rest of the camp as well. Adventuring ain't cheap ya know?”
“You can at least give me a small percentage of the profits. Say thirty percent?”
“Ten percent.” Tav said flatly.
“Twenty percent?”
“Ten percent.” Tav repeated.
“Fine.” Gale gives in, causing the shorter of the two to smirk triumphantly. Tav watched smugly as the wizard slumped off in defeat before quickly adding another note to her to-do list.
‘Give 10% of book money to the stinky wizard.’
Tav finished off her list as she felt a pair of cool arms wrap around her form from behind, her cheeks tinting light pink. “Do you really need to take five hours in the bath?” She hummed, turning her head to meet her partner’s crimson gaze. His hair was dry and looked rather soft and silky and he was dressed in this eccentric red silk robe with fluffy black trim.
“You can't rush art, darling.” Astarion purred before nuzzling his cheek against hers. “You know if you were getting impatient you could have joined me in the tub. I would have loved the company.” He murmured huskily.
“In these tiny ass bathtubs? I'd have to sit on your lap and even then I doubt we'd have enough room to really do anything.” Tav replied, nuzzling back against him.
“We could still try.~” The vampire cooed.
“Tempting, but the others have whined enough about our night time activities. Apparently we're noisy.”
“Then perhaps next time I shall have to gag you won't I?”
“Alright! I'm ending this conversation here!” Tav said quickly, face burning up at his teasing.
“Besides, I’ll need some sleep for tomorrow. Gortash won't kill himself, unfortunately.” Tav said with a yawn.
“Really? Now? I was hoping you'd at least cuddle with me before bed.” Astarion pouted.
“Oh you poor thing. Fine, we can cuddle till I fall asleep. Cutie.” The human female smiled sweetly before planting a kiss on her lover's cheek, receiving a content hum in response. Tav turned to pull away from the elf's embrace before suddenly feeling herself be scooped up and tossed over his shoulder.
“Hey! What did I say about picking me up!?” She whined, squirming a bit as she hung over his shoulder. “I don't like being manhandled!”
“But you're so adorable like this.~” Astarion teased, his hand gripping her ass as he carried over to the bed. Despite Tav’s complaints she did little else in protest besides pout and blush as she was whisked away. The two of them soon settled on the bed, Tav immediately nuzzling into Astarion's chest and relaxing. Astarion’s clawed fingernails found their way into her messy locks, caressing and running through them as the two snuggled together. His skin was cold to the touch, but honestly Tav actually liked it. It kinda reminded her of the cool side of her pillow. Even though there was the constant threat of death around every corner the two of them were still able to cherish their time together, and hopefully now that Astarion had been freed of his master they would continue to do so.
There was still the tiny issue of an evil alien brain thing that could turn them into soulless squid monsters, but they'd be able to take care of that sooner or later. A part of Tav wanted to put it off as selfish and dangerous as it could be. Because as soon as they destroyed the brain, they'd destroy the only protection Astarion had against the sun. Tav wasn't about to give up on finding a way for her love to enjoy the sun, but for now she'd at least make the time he has left in it special.
“Star….” Tav murmured aloud, her head tilting upwards to meet her partner's eyes.
“Yes dear?” He hummed.
“You know there's actually something I've been meaning to talk to you about. We've been together for a while now and well…we haven't actually had a real date….I mean I guess it's understandable considering we have to save the world and shit, but I was thinking maybe if there's time we could do something together....” Tav bit down on her lip as she sat up on the bed. She felt nervous all of a sudden, not used to asking for stuff like this. Astarion had always been the one to initiate most of their romantic activities. The best Tav could do was a kiss on the cheek or a hug and even that had taken a while for her to get comfortable with.
“What about all our little late night trysts? Do those not count as dates?” Astarion raised an eyebrow though his tone was playful.
“Ehh…well…rolling around in the dirt in the middle of nowhere isn't exactly what I'd call a date.” Tav said awkwardly, earning a chuckle from her vampire.
“I suppose you're right. We've never really had any bonding time without you being pinned underneath me.” He joked before quickly clearing his throat and finally trying to be serious. “What do you have in mind, darling?”
“I just want to take you out somewhere…We could go out to eat or just walk in the park….” The human female twiddled her thumbs as she trailed off, feeling butterflies in her stomach. “I'd be up for anything really as long as I'm with you.”
“I…would like that very much, my love.” Astarion cupped her cheek, his eyes soft and full of affection. He pulled her into a sweet chaste kiss, allowing her to return it before she pulled back and rested his forehead against hers.
Thudd!
Tav quickly pulled back from Astarion's embrace as she heard a noise. She looked around frantically for the sound.
“Tav? Is something wrong?” Astarion asked.
“I just heard something…” She said before suddenly her eyes landed at the window near their bed. On the opposite side of the window seat a small white bat could be seen looking through the glass. Its little red eyes stared at the human with an intense gaze. “It's a bat.” Tav pointed towards the window. Astarion looked over at the little creature before internally groaning.
No. She better not even think about it!
The bat blinked, looking at Tav a few times before curling its left wing against its body.
“I think its wing is injured!” Tav exclaimed with concern.
“Ugh leave it! We've taken in enough stray beasts!” Astarion scoffed, but Tav immediately ignored him, rushing over to the window.
“Tav! Don't! It probably has some horrible disease or something!”
Tav quickly opened the window, her eyes going soft as she looked down at the small animal. She moved to scoop it up into her arms but before she could the bat simply fell back.
“Shit!” She shouted.
“Thank the gods, it's dead. Now come back to bed, darling.” Astarion said, patting the spot besides him. Tav just glared at him silently before suddenly she wildshaped into a raven and flew out the window.
~•~•~•~•~
While Tav didn't preach about nature 24/7 like Halsin did she was still just as much of a druid as he was and couldn't bear to stay by while an injured animal was in need. (Much to her lover's dismay.) She'd flown out the window of their room and circled around looking for the little bat.
There was no sign of the winged beast anywhere near the elfsong, but at least that was a sign it likely hadn't fallen to its death. Tav kept searching, eventually straying further from the tavern until she was forced to land and give her wings a breather, returning back to her human form.
“Dammit it's so dark I can't tell where I am. Everything looks different at night.” Her eyes strained as she struggled to make out any familiarity. Despite having lived in Baldur's Gate for about ten years Tav had always made it a point not to roam about at night. Her lack of dark vision made night time prowling even more dangerous, especially in this city.
She decided to reserve her strength instead of wild-shaping again. From what she could make out in the dark she'd found herself in one of the back alleys. Tav kept stumbling around in the dark for a while until at last she began to consider heading back. The bat likely wasn't dead since she had seen no hair or hide of it and she really wasn't in the mood to find herself in trouble. It constantly seemed to follow Tav these days it seemed. Last time she wandered around the city by herself she got into a fist fight with some stuck up noble lady who had referred to her as ‘a fat ugly little boy’. (The others were not happy about sneaking her out of prison that day.)
Just as Tav was about to assume the form of a beast fit for the night she noticed some light up ahead. The graveyard had been illuminated by a couple of lanterns. Tav approached hoping it would help her map out her way back if she just remembered how to get to the Elfsong from there. However as soon as she got close to the light someone was waiting for her.
“Astarion?” Tav called out as her silver haired lover stepped out of the darkness. She expected nagging, and complaining about having to come out here looking for her, but instead Astarion just stared at her intensely as if studying every detail of her face. “Are you okay?” She asked with concern. Something was very strange about this. Astarion being quiet for long was never a good sign. Tav scanned him over, almost immediately noting his elegant attire. A black and red suit with silver bats embroidered on it. Odd. Tav had never seen him wear this outfit before. And he was always quick to show off any new clothes to her, seeking her praise. Astarion moved towards her quickly and out of nowhere pulled her into a crushing hug.
“Yes of course. I was just worried about you, my sweet.” His grip on her was almost uncomfortably tight, as if he was holding onto her for dear life.
“I haven't been gone that long….” Tav stiffened. There was an abnormal warmth to his body. Sure he was able to raise his temperature after feeding, but there was hardly a decent supply of beasties for him to nibble on in this city, not to mention he would have had to have found one pretty damn fast before seeking her out.
“You’ve always been such a brave little thing, haven't you?” He let out a chuckle, his grip on her didn’t falter. His tone didn't seem threatening, but one thing for sure set off an alarm in her.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump.
Tav immediately ripped herself away from him and took a few steps back, her eyes glaring daggers. “Who the hells are you?” She snapped.
“Whatever, ever do you mean, pet?” His voice was full of false innocence, it reminded her a lot of how Astarion would often speak whenever accusations were hurled at him, but this person was definitely not her lover.
Tav’s first instinct was to assume he'd probably been one of the shape-changers they'd been attacked by in the past, but there was this gnawing gut feeling that this time was different.
“Drop the act. I've already met enough shit heads running around wearing someone else's face. Who are you really?”
“I’m Astarion. Really dear, I'm disappointed you have so little faith in me that you'd think I'd allow some lowly shape-changers near you.” He took a few steps forward.
“Stay away from me…” Tav growled out through gritted teeth. Damnit. She didn't have any weapons and was literally in her sleepwear.
“You seem tired, love. Perhaps we should head back so you can get some rest?” He extended his hand towards her. Tav was about to say something else before suddenly an arrow came out of nowhere, nearly hitting the Astarion look alike in the shoulder. He was able to dodge just in the nick of time. Tav gasped in surprise before quickly turning back to see another…. Astarion?
The two looked identical aside from their clothing. The imposter was wearing his elegant suit and the other one (whom Tav hoped to the gods was actually him) was wearing a familiar red and black doublet.
“Hells teeth.” Astarion spoke up as he looked over at the two. Tav immediately sniffed air around the second Astarion. The tiniest whiff of death hit her senses and immediately she ran over to him.
“Star!” Tav was by his side in an instant. His arm quickly looped around her hip protectively before he scanned over her face.
“Are you alright?” He asked, receiving a nod in response. Astarion then looked over towards his look alike. “My, aren't you just beautiful? I must admit I'm quite flattered you chose to imitate me.”
“Is that what you think of me? I'm hurt.” The other vampire laughed. “I am no mere imitation. I am you…..well a better you.”
“You're not making any sense!” Tav hissed, her jaw clenching as she suppressed the urge to let out an animal-like growl.
“Allow me to shed some light on it then. I come from a reality where instead of choosing to remain weak and pathetic we became who we always wanted to be.” Tav's eyes widened at the revelation, though she was still debating whether or not to believe all this madness. Of course she'd been to hells, the shadowfell and even fought a god so maybe this wasn't too far fetched.
“The Vampire Ascendant.”
“If you're telling the truth then why are you here? You have everything you want don't you?” The vampire spawn quirked an eyebrow. Meanwhile the Ascendant’s face suddenly turned cold. He almost looked sad.
“I did. Wealth, power, pleasure, everything I could ever dream of. I was on the cusp of dominating the entirety of the sword coast. Everything was mine. But none of it mattered without the one thing I cherished most. My beloved consort. My Tav.” His eyes suddenly locked into the human female. She felt small, cornered, like a rat caught between a cat’s paws. “He was taken from me…”
Tav stiffened, taking a step back. She really did not like where this was going. Her lover kept a gentle hold on her, staying between her and the other vampire.
“And now you're here to take my Tav I presume?” Astarion scoffed, “you obviously didn't care very much about yours then if you're already looking for a replacement.”
“HE WAS EVERYTHING TO ME!” Before Tav could think her lover was knocked off his feet. A punch had come at him faster than he could react. The Ascendant stood over him, shaking with anger. Tav moved over towards the vampire spawn as quickly as she could, checking him out. He seemed alright, albeit a little winded, possibly bruised. Astarion huffed, getting back to his feet. Tav was quick to cast cure wounds on him to help perk him back up.
The Ascendant took in a breath, regaining his composure. While the spawn swiftly tossed Tav a spare dagger from his pack. A fight was likely inevitable now.
“I’ve searched across thousands of timelines. None of these pathetic excuses for adventurers came even close to my beloved. That is…until I found you of course…” The vampire lord pointed a clawed finger at the druid. “You're the only one who resembles him in the slightest, albeit you are a bit more…voluptuous than he was.” He chuckled a bit.
“Okay hold on a minute! You can't just come here and take someone else’s Tav because you lost yours!” Tav pointed her dagger shakily towards him.
“My dear, I don't think you understand. I am the Vampire Ascendant. I can take whatever I want!”
“I don't care if you're the fucking god of gnomes I'm not going anywhere with you. I have my own Astarion.” Tav gripped the blade tightly while her free hand prepared to cast a spell.
“I had hoped you'd come quietly, but it seems we'll have to do this the hard way.” With a flash of pink light Tav was hit with a sleeping spell and fell to the ground unconscious. Her dagger dropped to the ground with a clatter. The spawn was quick to move in front of Tav taking out his rapier and aiming a swipe at the other vampire.
The Ascendant stepped back just as the thin slender blade nicked a cut across his attire, just barely missing his flesh. The spawn took another swing at him, nicking his side and gaining a kick to the ribs in return. The spawn huffed, quickly recovering before moving in for another attack.
However the Ascendant’s clawed hand struck first, slashing through the armor surrounding the Astarion's shoulder and slicing his flesh. The spawn cried out and gripped his arm as his counterpart smirked smugly, bringing his finger up to his lips and basically tasting his own blood.
“Mmm…Delicious.~” He purred. The Ascendant’s crimson eyes trailed over towards Tav before beginning to glow red. “To me, now.” He said as if issuing a command to unseen soldiers.
Within seconds two oddly familiar figures appeared out of mist. A sickly pale looking Halsin and Shadowheart, both with glowing red orbs for eyes.
“Gods below. You've turned your own friends into spawn!?” Astarion gasped, his face full of disgust.
“Eh…I wouldn't exactly call them friends…. Though they are much more compliant this way.” The vampire lord replied with a toothy grin. The spawn felt sick to his stomach. To think he could have ended up this way.
“Take care of my inferior self, would you darlings? I have places to be…” The Ascendant gave a small wave before quickly scooping the unconscious Tav up in his arms.
“Yes master.” The undead Shadowheart and Halsin replied, a bright red light shone around their bodies as they were compelled to attack.
“Farewell beautiful.” The vampire lord gave his spawn self a wink before quickly vanishing into mist, taking Tav along with him.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
“Astarion….” Tav muttered tossing and turning in her sleep as she slowly began to come to. She shot up in a cold sweat, her heart pounding.
“Ugh…That was a terrible dream. Star you wouldn't believe…” Tav went silent as her eyes scanned her surroundings. It in fact was not a dream.
“Oh gods damnit.” She huffed.
Tav was in a large elegant looking bedroom, lying upon a purple queen size bed adorned with fine silk sheets. Maroon red walls surrounded her and were decorated nicely by paintings and other fine wall decor. The first thing the druid noticed after taking in her surroundings was the pressure around her neck. Her hands quickly reached for her throat feeling what seemed like a tight choker of some kind. She quickly hopped off the bed and looked into the mirror of a nearby vanity that sat west of the bed. “Fucking hells.” She breathed out as her eyes laid upon a black and red collar adorning her neck. There was this unnerving glow surrounding the collar. Most likely some kind of magic was placed on it. Quickly she curled her fingers preparing to use a spell in order to tear this damn thing off of her, but nothing happened.
This thing must be silencing my casting somehow.
Tav for a moment before forming an idea. She could probably wildshape into something small and squeeze out. Maybe. The druid sighed before getting on all fours preparing to transform into a rat. She let out a grunt, but nothing happened.
“Oh fuck you!” She shouted before rolling and desperately trying to yank the collar off.
Tav growled and pulled on the neck piece, yanking as hard as she could, resorting to gnawing on it.
Knock knock.
The druid immediately ceased her actions at the sound of the door. A shiver went down her spine at the thought of it being that so-called ‘Vampire Ascendant’ again. Her eyes flickered around the room before she took hold of a candle stick and stood next to the door, back pressed against the wall.
The door creaked open and a small figure walked inside. Tav prepared herself to strike down whoever had entered, but froze upon seeing the person. It was a small blonde haired half-elf woman, dressed in a house keeper's attire.
Tav quickly looked into her eyes, letting out a sigh of relief as she noticed they were blue. She set the candlestick down on the vanity and looked at the half-elf curiously. “Who are you?” She asked.
“My name is Abigail, milady. The master sent me to help you get dressed and make sure you come see him.” The small woman piped up in a small soft voice. Abigail was petite and quite short, probably about an inch or two shorter than Tav was, though the druid estimated the half elf was probably around the same age as she was…well physically anyway. With elves you could really never tell.
“And exactly where am I?” Tav crossed her arms.
“The Crimson palace milady. My lord has taken up residence here while he stays in your realm.” Abigail replied before scurrying across the room, towards a closet. “It'd be best not to keep him waiting, my lady.” The half-elf rummaged around through the closet before taking a couple of different outfits to choose from and spreading them out over the bed. “My apologies if you'd prefer a dress, but this is all we could bring with us from our world.”
Tav blushed a bit in embarrassment as she realized she was still only wearing a tank and boxers. She looked over at the bed and took note of the three suits that laid out in front of her.
“These belonged to Master Tav. Master Astarion said they'd likely fit you, my lady.”
“Now hold on, I have questions! How did you all get here, and what is this thing!?” Tav demanded as she tugged on her collar once again.
“I'm sorry I can say no more. Please miss, just get dressed.” Abigail pleaded,a hint of fear was in her tone. Tav was hesitant, but begrudgingly she slipped off her tank before sliding into one of the suits, a red one that felt a little snug on her, but actually not by much. The only issue being that she couldn't get the top three buttons of the white undershirt that went with it to button. It left her cleavage slightly exposed. Her eyebrow twitched in annoyance.
“Okay, I'm ready.” She said, Abigail nodded and began to lead the druid out of the room.
Perhaps this was her chance? She could make a break for it on their way out! Tav braced herself to bolt only to be met with a shockingly familiar face as she exited the room. Lae'zel. Or well a vampire spawn that looked completely identical to her githyanki companion aside from a pair of glowing red.
“Dear gods, Lae'zel, what happened to you? Did Astarion do this?” Tav gasped in shock.
“She's not your Lae'zel, milady.” Abigail spoke up.
“I was told to make sure the master’s new pet came quietly, not to answer questions.” Lae’zel simply replied.
“Come on, let's go.” Abigail took hold of Tav’s arm, giving her a gentle smile before tugging her along. Lae'zel quietly followed, a seemingly permanent scowl on her face as she watched Tav's every move, almost daring her to run for it.
The three walked down a long corridor for what seemed like hours. The sound of footsteps along with her own heartbeat seemed to be the only thing Tav could process as a gnawing anxiety set in. Her chest tightened, her throat felt dry and she could feel this nervous pain dancing across her spine. She wasn't sure why but something about this other Astarion scared her. This Vampire Ascendant. She had never been afraid of her beloved spawn, hells she wasn't even afraid of Cazador or any other vampire she had come across on their journey, but something about her lover's counterpart made her skin crawl.
“Well aren't you just precious?” A seductive pur tore Tav from her thoughts, forcing her to look up and realize she'd been dragged out into the ballroom. It definitely was a lot cleaner than the past time she'd been here. All the blood and wolf corpses had been dealt with. Just how long has this other Astarion been here? He couldn't have just started squatting here, found and kidnapped Tav, and had time to clean everything up on the same day! The Vampire Ascendant sat upon Cazador’s old throne, looking down at Tav. His eyes trailing over her.
Tav took a deep breath before clearing her throat and trying to appear confident.
“Where is Astarion? And I mean my Astarion.”
“You needn’t concern yourself with him any longer. You're mine now and I will give you so much more than he ever could.~” The Vampire Lord stood up and stepped towards Tav slowly.
“I’m not your Tav. I can never be him.” The druid backed up a little, however with Lae’zel’s presence behind her she didn't have much room to retreat. She wasn't sure if reasoning with this alternate version of her lover was possible, but it was worth a shot if nothing else. However instead of listening he swiftly took her hands in his.
“No need to be modest, my pet, you're practically like him in every way. You have his eyes, his face, the same little quirks and ticks. Granted, you're built a little different anatomically, but that's not something that ever deterred me.” Astarion moved in closer, briefly pressing his lips against her knuckles. “And now that I've found you, nothing will ever part us. Not again.” Before Tav could speak she was pulled in for another tight hug. She squirmed a bit, conflicted feelings of pity and fear were arguing back and forth in her mind as she felt him nuzzling his face into her neck. He was clearly dangerous, but he also seemed heartbroken. He wanted anyway to have his lover back so badly he crossed time itself to see them again. Or at least someone who resembled them.
But Tav knew deep down she wouldn't be enough to fill the void left by her counterpart. Gods, she hoped there would be a happy ending to all of this.
~•~•~•~•~•~
A little note from ChaoticDruid: I really hope it didn't suck! I haven't published a fanfic in so long >~< This idea had just been swimming around in my brain forever I just had to get it out! I got the idea from the PS5 launch party animation and seeing Launch Astarion and EA Astarion flirting just made me go okay but what if it was Ascended Astarion and Spawn Astarion?
I don't know if I will continue it. I have other things I wanna write and my ADD makes this stuff so freaking hard. But maybe maybe not 🤞🤞
Part 2: LETS GOOOOOOO
#astarion romance#astarion ancunin#baldurs gate 3#astarion x reader#bg3 tav#astarion x tav#astarion my beloved#bg3#shadowheart#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#ascended astarion#spawn astarion#vampire spawn#vampire ascendant#druid tav#batstarion#baldur's gate astarion#astarion fluff#Galeshaming- The bullying of Gale#Some people get triggered if you're mean to Gale so#yeah
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All These Things and More
Paring: Ransom Drysdale x Reader (Minx)
Part of the Minx Series
Word Count: 2.8 K
Summary: Ransom is a dad now, but you’re neglecting Daddy
Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, RPF. Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Cute little baby vibes, Ransom as a soft dad, Minx as a good mom, a little bit of angst, going overboard for the holidays, pining. Lactation kink, breast play, oral sex (m receiving), degradation kink, allusion to fingering, female receiving oral, creampie, edging, overstimulation, and anal.
A/N: This is for #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask. This is a companion piece to Coercion and Marshmallow World.
I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.
I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
Ransom rolled over into a pile of pink cuteness.
You were dead asleep in your custom pink chiffon nursing nightgown, and his daughter, dressed in a flowery pink footed sleeper, had wiggled out of your arms and was sitting up, staring at him with the biggest, prettiest eyes he’d ever seen.
Ransom frowned when he realized that you must have gotten up to get her from the nursery in the middle of the night instead of waking him. He’d told you about getting your rest. But Golden was going through a growth spurt and had taken to waking up in the middle of the night after a few months of sleeping through.
Ransom’s frown melted as his daughter smiled and laughed at him, waving cutely. Another woman had his heart now and her puff of blonde curly hair and light brown skin made her the most beautiful baby in the world, he thought.
Especially since he thought she looked just like you.
“Hey Goldennnn.”
He reached out for her and drew her onto his chest.
“How’s Daddy’s little girl this mornin’?’”
Ransom whispered his Boston drawl to his daughter, careful not to wake you up. It was only 5:30 AM.
“Bbbbbbbbbbbbb… DaDaDaDaDa.”
Even though she was blowing bubbles and climbing on his face, Ransom’s heart beat out of his chest at his daughter’s address.
“That’s right. Dada!”
Ransom whispered excitedly. He smiled at her and decided she needed some new diamond earrings, the ones in her ears were too small. As he lifted her, he also decided that she needed to be changed.
Ransom looked over to you to make sure you were still sleeping, then, he eased out of the bed and managed to get her down the hall to her nursery to change her diaper and sit down in the rocker after warming a bottle of breastmilk that you kept in the mini fridge in her room.
Ransom was the only one who could get her to take a bottle, otherwise, you breastfed her exclusively, with a few baby foods, even at 8 months old.
Golden got sleepy right away after taking most of the warm bottle, and Ransom cleaned her lips with the burp cloth and gazed at her sleeping face for a while, before putting her on his chest and daydreaming of your wedding the previous year.
You got the big June wedding of your dreams, despite Ransom wanting to elope. And it was outside, which really sucked because his fucking allergies made Ransom tear up just as you were walking down the aisle.
Your insipid little friends were always talking about how star studded the wedding was, but all Ransom remembered was you in your stunning dress and the adventure of making love to his wife that night.
You had him sex starved after depriving him for a month, and let’s just say that he’d had to pay off some of the hotel staff. You probably got pregnant that night, as much cum as there was everywhere.
Ransom was awakened by a flash going off because you were snapping pictures.
“Sorry Ran.”
You whispered and grinned at your man. He was such a good father. And you knew he loved you, he even told you so when he felt especially secure. Usually after you let him do everything that he (and you) wanted in bed.
Ransom rubbed his eyes and stood up to gently put Golden in her crib. He watched her for a minute and then walked over to you.
“I told you about that, Minx.”
“But you look so cute when you’re being Golden’s dad. Makes me want you more, Daddy.”
You pouted up at him and his heart melted. He loved him some you, especially since you’d become his wife and mother to his child. But he tried to look tough, which only seemed to make you light up more.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, Minx.”
Ransom bent down and hauled you up over his shoulder, giving your ass a slap as you giggled your way down the hall.
“I swear, If you wake her up….”
He deposited you on the bed as you let down the straps of your nightgown.
“I appreciate you feeding her, but what am I gonna do with all this milk now? I’m so uncomfortable. Need some relief Ran, baby…”
You looked up at him with those huge doe eyes and those huge, full tits, and his dick got hard.
Ransom always loved your tits, but they were huge with weight right now and pointing right at him.
He was super excited to help out, but he rolled his eyes to feign disinterest.
“Shit. I have to do everything around here. Have to be the Nanny, have to be the breast pump.”
You started to cover up, knowing this game too well.
“Sorry, Ran.”
Ransom saw your pout, sighed and climbed into bed with you, reaching for you and pulling you near.
“Come over here, Minx.”
The look on Ransom’s face betrayed his need as he reached for you. You smiled at him, ready to enjoy a morning in his arms. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he started to relieve you with those lips of his, and his hands, oh his hands, they relieved you in other ways.
After Ransom put you to sleep and had a quick shower, Golden woke up and Ransom hurried into her room.
A father’s work was never done.
That was the week before Thanksgiving, over a month ago, and it was the last time he felt you had time for him. Your first Christmas together as a married couple, you were six months pregnant, and the Holidays were spent with Ransom cussing out his family and friends who accused you of trying to trap him with a baby.
“Fucking idiot, can you fucking count?” Was his favorite refrain.
Ransom didn’t tell them that you didn’t trap them with this baby, you’d blackmailed him into a relationship using a recording of him blackmailing you with revenge porn months before the wedding.
You two also spent the Holidays eating and lazily fucking every night, morning, and any other time you got your greedy little hands on his dick. He was in heaven, the center of your little newlywed world.
This holiday season had been both the best, and the worst, for Ransom. It was going to be Golden’s first Christmas, and, as a true Thrombey woman (you included) she was fascinated with shiny things.
His little girl had his eyes and your smile and brown skin, causing everyone to stop and stare who saw her. An added bonus was that when she was born, his parents stopped being such assholes, because Golden had everyone wrapped around her teeny tiny little finger.
This Christmas, you were a woman possessed. Well, more than usual.
The second Thanksgiving was over, because Ransom would not permit it before then, you went into full Golden’s First Christmas mode.
Friday morning, Ransom rolled over and both you and Golden were gone. The bed was empty, and cold.
Nanny number one, Lina, had Golden and was bottle feeding her in her room. Ransom was livid.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Ransom made the poor woman jump, but she managed a smile anyway.
“Oh, Mr. Hugh. Mrs. Drysdale said that you would be thrilled that someone else could feed the baby. Surprise.”
Ransom was boiling mad on the inside.
“It’s Ransom. Mr. Drysdale to you, Lina,” Ransom spat as he watched his baby girl giggle in Lina’s arms.
She pulled off the bottle to say, “Dadadadada,” as if admonishing him. He leaned over, rubbed her hair and kissed her forehead, noting her sleepy eyes.
“Make sure that you burp her before you put her down.”
Ransom put on his robe and slippers over his silk pajamas and padded downstairs, expecting to find you there. What he did find was the chef, Angie, in the kitchen and a note from you.
You had gone shopping with Linda, of all people. Ransom was left alone. So he moped around the house in between playing with Golden all day until you got home, loaded down with tons of Christmas decorations.
He was surly at the dinner table while you rattled off your holiday plans, but you didn’t notice, or didn’t care, and by the time Ransom was ready for you to make it up to him, he found you and Golden knocked out in the bed.
It was this way for a month. Shopping, deliveries and installation of lights, trees, decorations, parties and playdates, everything that you thought Golden would love. But no nookie for Daddy. And you even had the nerve to begin to wean Golden, which meant your milk supply was getting low.
Ransom was someone even the Grinch would think would need to lighten up.
And the presents.
The entire first level was filled with presents for Golden. Ransom bought out FAO Schwarz for her. And the diamond district in New York was well compensated for dealing with Ransom on his search for the most flawless matching Mommy/Daughter diamonds.
But for some inexplicable reason, he missed you.
You were with him every night, next to him in bed, but he didn’t have your attention. It was bad enough that you spent so much time on the baby, but that was only right. You were his soul mate. Even though he’d loved you madly, when you became mother to his child, it seems he loved you more.
But now, you were obsessed with being Mrs. Claus, not Mrs. Drysdale. And that pissed Ransom off. Big time.
Ransom was still a grumpy bug when the families gathered on Christmas Eve for dinner and stayed over on Christmas morning to watch Golden “open” her presents.
He wasn’t telling people to eat shit, but you knew he was unsettled. But you didn’t know that he had a plan.
On Christmas night, after Golden was in bed, Ransom switched off the Christmas carols that had been piped throughout the house.
You went up to him, full of mirth and quipped, “My house, my rules, the Christmas music stays on.”
Ransom rolled his eyes and didn’t laugh, clearly done with being in the Christmas spirit.
“What’s wrong, Ran?”
“Nothing. Just got to get away from this nonsense. I’m leaving.”
Panic filled you. You thought he finally had enough.
“But Ransom, why? Will you leave me and Golden?”
“Oh shut up Minx, I’d never leave Golden. And you’re coming with me. Pack a bag.”
You were filled with relief, but you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t push back.
“Where are we going, Ransom? I can’t just…”
“You can, and you will. Golden had a great Christmas. She hardly knew what was going on, but she loved it. Now it’s my turn.”
You loved it when Ransom pouted and was needy, but you tried to reason with him.
“How long will we be gone Ran….?”
“Am I your husband?”
Ransom yelled at you. For the first time since Golden was born.
You were shook; Ransom was really emotional.
“Of course, but…”
“But nothing. Your mother is here, she’d be thrilled to fight Linda for the privilege to watch Golden. And you’ve almost weaned her. It’s perfect. You need to spend some time attending to your wifely duties. Which means you pay attention to me.”
Ransom wasn’t yelling anymore, but he was still adamant.
You fought the urge to laugh at Ransom because he had a point. You’d virtually ignored him. You decided to go with the flow.
“Well, what do I need to pack? Is it cold wherever we’re going?”
“I’m sure it is. Just pack enough for a day or two. We’ll go shopping when we get there, that is if you’re not too much of a cockslut and can have me not filling all your holes for a couple of hours…”
You shivered at the delicious promise. And you were ready to go right now. You reached for his pants. Ransom pushed you away.
“Save it, we’ve got to leave in an hour. Be ready.”
Ransom walked into his closet and left you reeling.
You met Ransom in the car in 56 minutes, only packing three Hermes bags to take along. You were shifting in your seat, wet already, wondering what adventures awaited you ahead.
Ransom spared you a cursory glance, but was silent most of the way.
“Stop squirming, it’s annoying,” was the only thing he said to you.
But you looked down and noticed that he was tapping his finger on his thigh. And that his pants were very tight around his crotch area. It was then that you realized that you missed him as much as he missed you.
“Sorry Ran, It’s just that I don’t have any panties on, and this sweater dress feels kinda good…”
You crossed and uncrossed your legs, capturing Ransom’s eyes which went from the supple leather of your brown boots, up the hem of your dress that matched the sweater that he had on. You could see him gulp and lick his lips. He shifted and then replied.
“I don’t give a fuck, calm your ass down and stop moving.”
“Yes, Ran.”
The look that you gave him, coupled with the faux show of submission had him almost feral. He leaned forward and banged on the partition.
“Speed it up, asshole!”
You smirked in your seat as Ransom tried to spur the driver on.
“You seem tense, Ran. Anything I can do to help.”
You put your hand on his knee.
“You should do something, since you got me all wound up. Didn’t want to jack off and spill my seed down the shower. Since we got married, you said it would only be used to fill you up.”
You rubbed his thigh.
“I’m sorry, Ransom. Can.. can you let me swallow it down my throat?”
Ransom didn’t respond, although you were squeezing his dick through his pants. You took that as a yes and got down between his legs, unzipping him and bring out his large dick.
Ransom looked down on you and placed one hand on your head and the other found your nipple through the dress. You weren’t wearing a bra either.
You spit on his dick and started pumping him, licking your lips as he stared you down.
“No underwear at all. Just live to get fucked. You’re my little whore, aren’t you? You still love to be a freak. Suck my dick, Minx. Not too sloppy now.”
Ransom leaned back and thrust his bobbing and weaving dick up at you as your pussy wept and your mouth watered.
“Yes, Daddy.”
You nodded and opened your mouth, deep throating him, red lipstick leaving marks on his throbbing member as you slowly pulled off.
“Fuck, Minx.”
You bobbed on his cock, choking and coughing and spluttering, while managing to keep everything neat and playing with his balls.
“So, so, so, good with that hot little slut mouth, Minx. Fuck! Take it all.”
You loudly gulped as he came, causing him to pulse extra spend down your throat.
“Thank you for the fluff, Daddy.”
Ransom just grunted and zipped up as the car pulled down the road to the airstrip where the Thrombey Gulfstream was parked.
You turned to him with glee, clapping your hands.
“A flight? Where are we going?”
“Paris. Now get your ass on that plane.”
“Yay! Thank you Daddy.”
You kissed his cheek and got out of the car when the driver opened the door, ready to fly, while Ransom watched you with a warm feeling and rubbing his cheek. Damn, he was whipped.
After you boarded the plan, and toasted with champagne, Ransom told you of the plan to stay in that one hotel you loved from your honeymoon. The one with the view of the Eiffel Tower and the excellent room service.
“That’s great Ran. Because you’re right, you’re not gonna want to leave this pussy alone.”
Ransom’s eyes changed as you go up to enter the private bedroom on the plane. When he joined you in the room that was filled with a king sized bed, he found you sitting on the edge of the bed, leaned back, legs open.
Ransom pushed a few buttons on the keypad by the door to the bedroom cabin, and up popped a view of you sitting on the bed, displayed on the television above the door. Your eyes watched the monitor as Ransom stood before you and pushed you back down on the bed.
Ransom took your boots off, then pushed the dress up your body with his huge, warm hands, skimming your thighs up to your breasts. He pulled the garment off of you, then grabbed your hair for a searing kiss while he roughly groped and pinched your nipple.
You moaned at the delicious pain and at his passion, trying to tear his clothes off faster than he could disrobe as he went back down your body.
“Gonna make you cum until you beg me to stop, and then I’m gonna fuck this weeping cunt, filling you to the brim with my cum, Minx. Then I’m gonna take that ass. And if we have time on this seven hour flight, we’ll do it all over again.”
“Yes, Ransom.”
You pulled his hair as you watched him eat you out in high definition on the monitor, then flicked your eyes over to the camera to make sure the red light was on.
“All these things and more…”
You know what I’m gonna say…reblog? Please!
Read the next part: You Up?
#ask dj#dj answers#ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale x you#ransom drysdale x black!reader#ransom drysdale x female reader#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drydale x you#ransom drysdale smut#chris evans#chris evans smut#ransom drysdale imagine#chris evans imagine#Ransom and Minx#dj’salliwant4kchristmas22
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𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆.
୨ৎpairing: cowboy!jm x reader x preacher!jk
୨ৎword count: 5k
୨ৎgenre: smut, horror, angst
୨ৎtw: dead dove do not eat, mentions of death and gruesome details (human and animal), blood, mentions of arms and physical violence, cursing, smut (blood drinking and playing, period sex, rope play, degrading, dub-con, groping, penetration)
An Ewe and the Captive Bolt (a serie)
Today was his birthday, and for the first time in 28 years, the sky looked like a sheet full of spots. He felt ever since he saw Sirius and Canopus in the sky as two little white suns the night before, that this year was going to be different.
What Park didn't know was that what would be different was the pain he felt on the left side of his arm and his chest. The hot, thick blood soaked his shoulder and eye until it covered his eyelashes. The battered hat clutched in both dusty hands as he entered Carmen's diner, a child's shame on his tight lips.
The poor girl behind the counter dropped the key lime pie from her hands, creating even more noise in the place (which Jimin didn't appreciate being in such a state).
"Christ." She murmured, still static.
"Be a doll and bring me a glass of water, would ya'?" Jimin crawled to one of the seats, grunting as he felt his muscles burn.
The girl approached with a small towel and a terrified look.
"Never seen blood before?"
"No, sir." Her brown eyes were like two walnuts bouncing between Jimin's face and arms. She was adorable, her face round and her hair so curly that she reminded him of his sheep. If she hadn't been the sheriff's daughter, he said to himself every time he saw her.
"Are you hurt, sir? I can call my daddy and-"
"No need for that, sweetheart." He raised his hand. The last thing he needed was to have Montrell in his affairs. "It ain't my blood, it's my horse's"
Apparently, that seemed to affect the young woman more. Jimin was a little offended by her reaction.
"Why don't you bring me a piece of that delicious key lime pie you had in hand and two coffees."
There were more questions in her curved eyebrows, but she just nodded and walked away. Park took off his shirt, leaving a tank top underneath it, with the handkerchief that he kept in his jeans, he began to wet his hands and his face.
His fingers were still shaking from the adrenaline. The shrill sound of the car's tires driving away, the heated laughter cloistered behind the smoked windows, the last sharp sigh of his horse before Jimin ended his suffering. He had to find the bastards who ran over his horse. FH-6077, he read the plate in the distance before crossing the curve, and his brain couldn't stop humming the six digits like a prayer.
The sudden hand on his shoulder calmed the waters, the undoubtable smell of myrrh and tobacco from his companion.
"Happy birthday, buddy." His voice was gentle. If Jungkook ever went above a couple of those decibels, Jimin assumed he was going to die. Even seeing Park's bloody hat on the table and Park's bloodstained boots, he didn't flinch to ask.
Perhaps it was his ecclesiastical nature that gave him the confidence that at one time or another, others would fill the silence with their confessions. But Jimin could see in the father's noble eyes the desperation for an explanation.
"Sure." That was all he said. The girl approached the table with the pie and the coffee.
"Goodnight, Father John." She smiled widely.
"Night, Billie. How's your dad?"
"He really liked your mass today. I did too, I really liked the reading." Jimin noticed how the corners of Billie's lips twitched, contorting herself to try to look prettier for Father John. So obvious and adorable, but of course, Jeon would give nothing more than a shrug and the most predictable questions.
The difference is that Jungkook could fuck the sheriff's daughter. What father didn't want his daughter to be in the sacred hands of Father John?
Father Jeon (or John due to the Americanization of Jungkook's family) was tall, wide like a log, and robust like an unhorned bull. Attractive in every sense, but bland, shy until it hurts.
"'M glad, tell him I will visit Missus Davis next week."
"Do you have a smoke? I'm dying in here."
They both looked at Jimin who was just smiling with his mouth smeared with whipped cream.
"You can't smoke here, sir."
Jimin winked at her, grabbing the white stick that Jungkook handed him as he also sat down to end the unbearable flirting.
"I know, pumpkin. It'll be a quick one, I promise."
The girl didn't say anything else, and she walked away. Disappointment in her walnut eyes.
"I'll marry her in two months." Said Jungkook.
Jimin frowned. Jungkook curled his fingers, pointing for his friend to come closer and light the tip of the tobacco.
"Marry her? You can barely tolerate the poor girl."
"I love her." The father stated as he nodded slowly while he drank his coffee. "She's a good girl, I think she likes me, too."
"Are ya sure?" Jimin joked.
"Where's that bad hoss you've been riding since last month?"
Jimin's blood warmed again, the drags on his cigarette even longer.
"Fuckin' punks ran over 'im and broke his ribs. Had to do it." He pointed to the gun under his hat. The bloody clothes reminded him how clumsy he sure looked trying to pamper a horse that was already three steps away.
FH-6077.
"I'll find them tomorrow."
"I'll help you."
"What are you gonna do?"
They both looked at each other, the watery, electric current between them. Ideas undulated and braided between their cruel smiles.
"Haven't changed a bit, church boy." Smoke weaved into Jimin's blonde hair, his devilish smile vaporizing memories of his teenage pranks.
Jungkook drank the last of his coffee, his face falling back into the same bitter sadness that every father held as if he carried the weight of all the souls and sins of Rivermouth on his back. The silence was long afterward, the black night extended to the mountains, to the sky, to Park's own reflection in the glass. The round face with pronounced lips and rude, detailed eyes, sweet when they feel like it. The spitting image of his mother.
"I have some hippies coming to the ranch tomorrow."
Jungkook nodded, the pressure in the handle increasing, the clack of the cup being clenched by his teeth in a sip. Jimin knew he shouldn't have mentioned the hippies, but it was that ecclesiastical power. He knew that Jungkook hated the smell of pot, the long hair, and the colorful t-shirts, which reminded him of his father, previous father John.
God knows what Jungkook had to witness, the carbonic stench that emanated from that charred skeleton. The tongue pressed between two pieces of blackish board that used to be teeth. The fetid fat that ripped and curdled in the organs. There was not a day in which the poor man did not think about that before going to sleep and found himself face to face with the featureless face of his father, with the incinerated bowls pointed at the eyes of his son. Sitting in the chair under the cross that has sat on that wall since Jungkook's birth.
And Jungkook cried. He would close his eyes and every night, he would grab the skull and make it crunch under his thick hands. The body did not defend itself, it let its boy vent as if he were a sacred entity and knew that at the same time, the next day and every other day, he would appear again in that chair, and Jungkook would never be able to exhaust his anger against him.
"I have to go." It was the only thing he said leaving a ten dollar bill in the table. Park understood. "Go fetch a new hat from my house tomorrow, it's about time you threw that shit in the river."
"Hey."
Jungkook turned around. Jimin stopped smiling.
"Take it home in the morning, I'll make you breakfast before the rodeo."
Jeon looked at the floor with uneasy eyes.
"We'll see."
As he left the diner, the fresh wind conquered the father's soul. Nostalgia washed away his stony face and for the first time in years, he wanted to be a child again. Disappear with Jimin and sleep in the old hayfields of the abandoned Hillside.
He put on his black hat and started walking down the dark street, both hands in his pockets.
Today the smell of boiling fat was stronger than ever, the ghost of his father floated in the swirls of Rivermouth dust and, with it, the remains of the children who were later taken from that same cabin.
The white lace curtains let in the yellowish light of the first rays. The unmade bed, the smell of pine in the sheets.
In one corner of the bed, Park was dressing for the day, the muscles in his shoulder had swollen with the hours and makeshift cloths covered the open, bloody sores. Every so often, he hissed and swore under his breath.
The coffee began to gurgle in the kitchen as he finished putting on his boots, it was barely 6:30, but he already had the eggs frying and the beans hot in the pot. It seemed strange to him that his companion was not already sitting next to the window, Bible open and the first cigarette of the morning in his hand.
He turned off the stove just in time and poured himself a cup. Today he felt more domestic than ever, he had spent the night fixing every detail in the ranch, from the dust on his late mother's china to the rifles displayed in the hallway. To be frank, he spent the entire night cleaning every corner, maybe detailing every object in every room so that at the end of the weekend nothing would be missing, or the crash made him remember how little he's done in 28 damn years.
A porcelain jewelry box his mother had placed in one of the rooms was covered in a thin layer of gray dust; it was his mother's favorite piece. He hadn't opened it since the last time he stole a couple of pearls to buy his first rifle, the red stained his face with shame, and the only thing he could do as an apology was turn the house over with his own handkerchief and clean even the windows. He was surprised that the smell of lye and soap hadn't killed him.
Hearing one of his sheep bleating, he opened the window and decided to lower his chivalry a bit and smoke his first cigarette before Jungkook arrived. In the distance, he could see one of his ewes, fat and terribly woolly, walking slowly towards the barn. She was pregnant and Jimin knew that there were maybe 24 hours left, her skin was bulging, and her bleating was painful and whiny, she couldn't take it anymore.
The curtain caressed Jimin's face with the wind that was beginning to warm up, he took a drag of the cigarette and turned his body towards the kitchen. He felt a strange itch in his chest, the kind that bothers him when he senses a spirit floating near him. The greenish branches and the smell of sausages were mixed up with the subtle gallop of a skinny horse and the unexpected smell of myrrh.
He walked to the front door and opened it to find Jeon's promised hat. He sighed as he saw that not only was it one of his black deathly-looking hats, but he had also planted him at breakfast, sure to go see the grandmother of his very unexpected but predictable fiancée.
Long story short, Jimin had to eat four cowboys' breakfast and the whole pot of coffee, and the hat he would wear to the rodeo today didn't match his outfit at all. Dozing was the only thing he could do after loosening the buckle on his belt and putting the hat on his face.
The leather furniture was sinking under his body, the soft song of the river in the distance, and the birds pecking at his roof took him back to his childhood. Sleeping wherever he wanted without any purpose. He dreamed of the gallops of his first horse: Champ, a Tennesee Walking that had belonged to his grandfather, black as coal, glistening in the sun of his student days and running like a devil in a hurry. He dreamed that he was in public showing the animal to auction it.
"How do you encourage a horse to move forward, Sage?" A woman in the audience shouted.
"I don't know, kick his ass or something." Heavenly laughter coaxed him out of his lethargy.
His body sat on the furniture before he knew it, sweat covering his back, veins marked on the left side of his face. He ran with the unconscious weight of his body to the window, pushing the curtain aside with his finger until he saw the circular corral where his star horse, Arrow, was located, with a stranger on his back.
His fingers reached for the rifle lying on the rocking chair.
The blonde girl staggered on top of the animal while her thin fingers held his hair tightly. The horse's sleepy eyes moved from side to side, snorting as he searched for direction.
"Come on, horsie!" The girl snapped her teeth and laughed as the horse curved to one side. "Are you seeing, Hunter? It's moving."
Hunter was smiling foolishly, lying on the grass, his thin, wavy hair fluttering around his ears like a delicate flower. The dark glasses covered his wounded deer's eyes.
"You're such a cowgirl, my love." His voice was sarcastic.
And with a shot into the air, silence muted nature. He silenced the current, the clucking of the chickens that fluttered in the distance. Hunter, Sage, and Blondie turned to the cowboy who walked slowly across the grass towards them. A whistle from the stranger caused Arrow to raise his front paws until Blondie fell with a screech to the hard ground.
"Kitty!"
"Woah, cowboy." Jimin's silky voice approached, placing the buttplate of his rifle on his shoulder, aiming directly between Hunter's eyebrows. "Move slowly, ya wouldn't want to scare an alarmed man any further, now would ya?"
"I'm sorry, sir."
Blondie or Kitty or whatever her name was, rolled her red eyes.
"What the hell are you doing on my ranch?"
"Let's go, Hunter. I'm not going to talk to cornman." Sage was the tallest of them all, her shorts squeezed her thighs until they were overflowing, and her hair was long like a beach princess.
"Watch your fucking language around me, missy." Gritted Jimin removing the safety on the rifle.
"Sage, for once do you want to shut the fuck up."
Hunter raised his hands, sweat beginning to gather on his wrinkled forehead. His eyes shone as he heard the heels slowly approaching behind Jimin.
"Love." He exhaled.
"Is this part of southern charm, Mr. Park?" Coquettish, the dying accent of someone who once lived in these parts, daring, too much for her own good. But still, he lowered the gun, spitting on the ground.
When he turned around it was as if a pink burst of glitter and vanilla had slapped him from the stupor of sleep. The glasses were square and large, they covered almost her entire face, that was the first thing Jimin saw.
"Ma'am, are these your friends?"
"We are your visitors, cornman." Jimin ignored the Californian's irritating nasal whine as the sweet girl in front of him approached little by little with a smile. He felt the itch again, the one that senses a spirit floating nearby, this spirit was the nebulous memory of your face.
"Could you speak again, ma'am?"
"Sorry?" You laughed, and it was like birds were chirping in your throat. "You're Ari's son, right? I really liked the jams your grandmother used to make."
And oh, it couldn't be more obvious. It couldn't be more evident, not even because God had exploded your name in the sky. It was the stunning makeup and hair wax, it was the sequined heels and Patsy Cline songs reverberating from the old speakers. It was your name in the newspaper almost every week.
It was your sailor costume, the jam falling from your humiliated face, it was Jimin's hand caressing the bulge in his jeans that same night on top of the hay, imagining how you ate the strawberry jam that his mother made.
Now you called yourself Love, the name was as obvious as you were. Of course, your hippie name is Love.
"Miss Peaches '57." His voice was soft and trembling. Your eyes opened in surprise.
"Gods, I didn't even remember that title." You put your hand on your mouth, dressed as a Hollywood girl but your loving manners were indelible.
"Excuse me, where are my manners? Jimin Park." He raised his hand for you to place in yours, light and trusting. A chaste kiss to the back of your hand without stopping to see your eyes behind the orange glasses.
"You can call me Love."
"A sight to sore eyes, Love."
"Always." You responded. Jimin swallowed hard, trying to hide that nostalgic smile, 'pure in every way. With that same smile, he invited the four to go through their rooms, the tension subsiding fluidly with each laugh that came from your blessed lips.
It was as if you said one thing and the sun came a little closer, deorbiting out to your echoes, warming the room and Jimin's cheeks.
"Can you help me look for my suitcases?" You touched the shoulder of the cowboy who agreed and guided you to the front door. Like the good boy his mother raised, he opened the door for you, and outside stood a Packard Caribbean: long, yellow, and sleek as a sunflower.
"Nice ride."
"Thank you, it's from Hunter's dad. He gave it to him for his birthday. Isn't it a beauty?"
"Beautiful." His nose scrunched watching your stomach bulge down your cute little top, hard nipples contouring the pink fabric. You still were just good enough to eat.
Examining the car little by little, a detail began to emerge in his memory. Among them, glowing in the heat of that morning were the six digits from the night before: FH-6077.
When it came to religion Jimin didn't have many opinions.
As a kid his mother went to church every Sunday and took him. He saw the statues of Jesus suffering with indifferent eyes, he made his first communion only because they promised to give him a sip of wine with the host, he listened to the stories of death and plagues as if they were cartoons.
God was a very complicated being, the more he thought about him, the heavier his body became.
To his surprise, God was nothing more than a sham, a wall between you and him. The host, that time Jungkook's father offered him, tasted like nothing and the wine went down his young throat tasteless.
"Body of Christ." You said, the music playing crisply on the record player Hunter had brought. The guitars repeated the same riff over and over, he hated it.
Jimin stuck his tongue out where you placed a small square of magazine paper no bigger than a fingernail. Jimin’s eyelashes fluttered, his knees throbbing as he knelt in front of you, your thumb brushing against his lips before sealing them.
"Amen," he sighed.
The host that you offered to his mortal body was as tasteless as the first, but only Jimin knew the euphoria that, like a hurricane's wind, announced the sweet path that awaited the cowboy.
Jimin was not a man who smoked more than five cigarettes a day, seven if it was a bad day. But your siren song in his ear convinced him to drown his morals in your dark waters, your hands took both sides of his tanned face and you threw him without warning to your sanctuary, towards the steepest rocks, to your glorious eyes. And damn, Park could drink the water from your pupils and die of poisoning.
"I missed you so much, I didn't know it until the moment I saw you." His lips said before thinking about it, narrow pupils lying on the grass next to you. You just laughed, it was the only thing you did and he just admired it.
At one point around noon, Jimin took the steering wheel of the Packard. Hunter, Sage, and Kitty were talking about a record, making strange sounds and asking the opinion of Jimin who was driving down the dusty road, making the engine roar so that you would scream next to him.
"Slow down!" You asked. He went faster, he didn't care.
The purring of the car made Jimin's body pulse, his mouth was dry, his arm no longer hurt, and his lips prayed the license plate of the car, over and over again.
I'm going to find it, he told himself. And when I find him I'm going to make them suffer, as the tips of the horse's bones pierced its dark fur, neighing over his own stupid words trying to calm the wounded animal.
Faster, find it.
Like oil, the green branches of summer became watery and greasy in his vision, and the dust was stalactites that bathed the car in yellow.
"Good luck, cowboy." Kitty approached Jimin, somehow he had made it to the rodeo. The horns announced his name on all four corners and people shouted his last name like the idol he was.
Sage and Kitty kissed his cheeks before he climbed on top of Arrow, the weight of his body creating echoes every time he moved.
There was no one in that audience who saw Jimin on his horse who was not surprised by the agility with which the rope rose above his head and created fluid circles to catch the rough calf that writhed with the knot in its thick neck.
Jungkook saw from a distance how the cowboy's smile was so bright, how he rejoiced at the applause and the roses that were thrown at him. His movements were vehement, fiery, and impulsive like a devil without fear of death.
The hat Jungkook had given him had a small, withered pink carnation on it. He stood up as quickly as he could at the end of the show, but before he could talk to him he only saw Arrow galloping thunderously in the distance, one girl was wearing the gifted hat, she grabbed Jimin's waist and with the other, she gave whiskey to the cowboy. The copper thread falls to his chest and settles on his strap.
"The sight of him today was incredible, I had never seen 'im like that." Billie smiled behind Jungkook, her cheeks red, eyes covered with a fine lust that she probably didn't even recognize.
The firmament rose high above his eyes, there was no star that Jimin didn't feel the overwhelming sound of fire burning in his ears. His body was sweating on the grass, and the smell of nicotine was strong after smoking two cigarettes to settle his reverberating body. The high had passed and his body was a used towel.
He doesn't remember much of what happened, but the remnants of the hallucinogen's burn made him understand that he had the damn time of his life. A laugh left his lips, embarrassed by how easy it was to convince him to do that stupid thing. What Jungkook told him was true: you haven't changed at all, cowboy.
"How's my favorite rodeo king?" The angel landed above his head, you were wearing his hat and a flowered dress.
"Roughened up, I guess." Just like after a good fuck.
"Don't get hooked or you'll end up like Hunter." You combed your hair as you walked around him. "He can't last a day without it or else he starts hitting Kitty."
"Why don't you report it?" Jimin stood following your steps. After looking around him for a few seconds, he realized that he was in the rodeo arena, darkness bathed the stadium. The blue moon showed your silhouette walking over the horseshoe tracks.
"Because Kitty doesn't want to, they are going to get married in a few months. He promised to stop doing drugs when they did. It wouldn't be good for a kid."
There was a lightness in the promises the Californians made to others, they nodded seriously, but you could see the consequences in their evasive gaze.
Jimin nodded.
"Are you always so quiet?"
He nodded again, and they both laughed.
"'M better when I'm not ten feet deep in an LSD hangover, I can assure that."
"Yes, but..." Your silhouette approached his body, and you carried the energy of ten bulls on you. Your immortal look, you haven't changed anything. "I asked if you're always this quiet."
Jimin inhaled as he understood your question.
"When I'm in the stadium I'm more vocal." He again evaded the answer you were looking for so much. His chest beat boldly like the time he saw you covered in strawberries and sugar.
"You were a star this afternoon, your eyes were shining."
"Always."
You raised your eyebrow and scoffed. "Sure thing, sir."
Blood surged to Park's neck, his eyelids drooping, his pride tainting his flirtation. Enough of the games.
"Run." He murmured, saliva pooling in his throat.
You frowned with your typical smile.
"What?"
"I asked you to run." His body suddenly lunged and you became alarmed, raising your hands. "As fast and as far from this stadium as you can."
His pupils didn't move, his soft smile was confident. Your skin grew cold with each step, at first slow and suspicious, the darkness of the large arena was intimidating because it felt like you were not moving forward.
You heard how an object created hollow, sharp sounds in the air. It was his lasso.
"No." You muttered, running even faster.
And swoosh, you fell to the ground. The rope squeezed your neck, leaving your body in mid-air, your tongue came out and your eyes bulged from the sudden lack of air; the hat fell away from you. Your body was no longer yours, your stupid fingers tried to loosen the knot, but it was too late.
The boots approached, collecting the rope that was left over around his arm. The silhouette became part of your blurred vision.
"Stand up."
"I. Can't." Your lips emulated as you writhed like a worm in the dust.
"Lemme' help ya'." Jimin snatched the rope for you to stand up, your knees moved up to him where his fingers loosened the knot a little. "Breathe, little girl. We don't want an accident."
Saliva came out of your mouth in streams and fell to the floor. Jimin grabbed your chin and wiped it.
"Don't make a mess now."
"I'm sorry, sir." And now you sounded as helpless and stupid as Hunter did this morning. It was adorable.
You were afraid to look up, your eyes trained on the hat a few meters away from both of you.
"Tell me, pumpkin. How can two ugly sons of bitches like your parents have such a beautiful girl?" He laughed, dragging the rope to where his hat was, you walked behind him with careless steps. With a couple of blows, he blew the dust off his hat and looked at you again, searching for an answer you didn't even know how to articulate or if you should.
His hand wrapped the rope around his fingers until he had you as close as possible, the smell of tobacco hammered your temples, and your eyelids wrinkled to try to wake up.
Great was the surprise when you felt a pair of dry lips resting on yours, his tongue daringly passed over your lips so that you would open, his moans softening your fear.
His saliva was bitter and lovely, his tongue running flat across the outside of your mouth until it reached your chin and the tip of your nose.
"Let's see, open your mouth, sugar. Don't be shy."
You obeyed as the knot tightened around your neck, moaning as his lips sucked on the tip of your tongue and bit your bottom lip.
"God have mercy." He sighed, squeezing your chin with his hand. "How can you taste so damn sweet."
You moaned as you felt his teeth nibble gently at your neck, his fingers piling the fabric of your dress around his fingers.
“Mm,” you squealed, walking away even when it didn’t suit you. "Can't."
"It's a good thing I didn't ask." Jimin brought you closer, caressing your neck again.
"I'm on my days." Shame sealing your thoughts, in your eyes the hope that just the thought of seeing the blood would disgust him.
Jimin raised his eyebrows and slowly kissed you again, this time with the softness of an apology.
"A cowboy doesn't mind a little dirt." He murmured, touching the soaked towel that covered your underwear, two fingers pushed aside and the burning of your pussy collided with his cold fingers drawing a moan from your hurt throat.
"A good cowboy loves to get dirty." He smiled, removing the two soaked fingers from the red viscosity to put it in his mouth with a frown on his eyebrows. "Mm." He grunted, swallowing slowly.
You were speechless, stupefied. Who was this demon?
"Have you ever ridden a bull before?" His blood-tainted lips said, the idea shocking your senses.
You denied it, and God knows that was the stupidest answer you could give.
The animal began to make a mechanical noise beneath both of them, the leather surface pressed your thighs against the mechanical bull that began to move slowly.
Jimin's bestial eyes did not take off from you, the last of the bottle of whiskey went down his throat in long gulps and pushed the glass into the distance causing a roar.
Your legs were above his defined thighs, the bleeding wound between your legs dirtying his jeans but the cowboy didn't seem to mind. The dress already forgotten outside the stadium playing area.
"We'll go slowly because it's your first time on top." His consideration was so minimal, considering the situation. But you were a woman whose details annihilated your logic.
To the front and sides and then a gentle turn, this is how the animal began. Jimin moved his center with the animal, the bulge in his pants rubbing against your pussy.
One of his hands approached the dripping hole and with four fingers collected the blood until it painted his hand.
“Ah,” he requested, sticking his tongue out and you followed suit. His fingers got smeared on his tongue and cheeks until they reached his neck. With his tongue he passed over his lips, like wine he drank you, like sweet he possessed you and rejoiced.
His tongue entered your space again, the strange and bitter taste of your own blood while with his fingers he removed the zipper of his jeans until he showed that he was not wearing underwear underneath him, his tall and throbbing cock moved under his fist.
"Climb on, doll. You're wet enough for me." He laughed taking your body to sit on top of him. You hugged him as tight as you could as the mechanical animal began to move faster.
"We're going to fall." You whimpered. "Hurts".
"Shh, shh. Let me medicate you, it'll stop hurtin' when I dick you properly." One spank and his fingers squeezed the skin of your ass tightly. "You just have to move with me."
To the front, to the sides, two turns. You just had to keep your legs elevated a little, Jimin's cock sliding smoothly in and out with each movement.
"Now you're getting it. Fuck." Jimin hissed, squeezing your waist with his forearm. "You're quite the cowgirl, Love."
You moaned, pressing your forehead to his. His eyes absorbed every curve, from your breasts to your red-painted thighs. You were an angel, a myth that devours men. Your songs of pleasure echoing on the aluzinc walls.
The animal began to attack, abrupt and deeper.
"Does it hurt?" You asked between moans, watching the fabrics covering Jimin's arm begin to dye again. Jimin denied, cuntdrunk.
You removed the knot of cloth from the wound on Jimin's arm, running your thin fingers over the bleeding muscle. Park hissed, and the walls of your pussy tightened.
More, you wanted more.
Your lips sucked on the sores until you felt the metallic taste in your throat, Jimin pressed your body against yours. One turn, two forwards, three up. Your poor body trembled with the desire for the game to end but your pussy still wanted your walls to expand until Jimin's cock was molded inside you forever.
"If I knew you were such a slut." Park grabbed your hair to pull you away from his arm.
"If I knew cowboys fucked so well." The bloody smile of both of you was devilishly erotic.
The bull stopped suddenly, you looked at the man standing on the other side of you, rifle in hand, hot tears burning his cheeks.
"Jungkook? Jeon!" It was the last thing you heard before you fell face first onto the inflated floor, blood flowing warm and your eyelids falling softly.
#—📃: an ewe and the captive bolt#bts imagines#bts#bts fanfic#jimin imagine#jimin smut#bts smut#jimin x reader#jungkook smut#jungkook imagine#jungkook fanfic#bts x you#bts x reader#jimin x oc#jimin bts#jimin fanfic#jimin dark fic#bts dark fanfic#jimin
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Not the Soft (Ame Writes)
Guys I swear this isn't the soft I promised-- I wrote. A Ghost. As part of the @tmntaucompetition and as a way to cope with @somerandomdudelmao's absolutely devastating last update to their apocalypse series. Cause it sat in my head a little too long.
It is sad. Sorry. <3
Once more, Ghost was somewhere he didn’t want to be. Another portal to fall through, another swarm of alternate versions. It was different this time. More of them were kids, they weren’t all from the boys’ realities. He’d even seen a few from his own. He avoided them now, like the plague. He couldn’t stand to be near them, couldn’t stand to see them happy like that. It hurt too much.
He saw a few he recognized from the last interdimensional competition. The grown up Mikey who handed Leo a bat was familiar. The kids with the actual ghost were familiar. The older Leo and little Leo both missing arms and passing out water bottles were familiar. The computer Donnie was familiar, but he didn’t want to think about what had led to that, just as he didn’t want to think of it last time.
It wasn’t a shock when he spotted the next familiar group. He recognized them the easiest from their robot Raph, but he almost didn’t. Their demeanor was so different from when he’d last seen them, cheering Tello on.
Just one look over them and he knew.
Grief was so easy for him to see now. As much as they were trying to hide it, to brush it off to people who asked, he could see it in their eyes, in their shoulders. They were so different.
The first thing he felt was an unbelievable loss.
It felt like just last month he’d held Tello’s hand and smiled at the crowd. Hugged him once they’d escaped prying eyes. Told him to be better than Ghost had been.
His grown son from another dimension, one who didn’t even know him, was dead.
It hit him like a knife, a wet thud into his heart. Some part of him screamed in his head, drowning out all the other noise, all the other turtles but the three that had been left behind. He felt the desperate urge to find his own Donnie, to check that he was breathing to hear his heartbeat, to listen to his voice, feel his hands in his own.
Ghost swallowed it. Swallowed the grief that was seeing his child dead, even in another world, in another dimension, another time. Swallowed the scream. Swallowed the urge to ground himself with Donnie. He didn’t want to scare him.
He didn’t want to scare any of them, yet there he was, just watching the three turtles and their human companions.
He couldn’t bring himself to approach them. It felt unfair. It felt like he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to be seeing; a version of his family after they’d lost their Donatello. He felt like he didn’t deserve this, like this was some window into what had happened after he’d disappeared. Like he was intruding.
They had lost their Donatello, and he was a Donatello who was lost.
Promise me you won’t let anything happen to them.
I guess that’s just what we do.
He’d been so caught up in telling Tello to take care of his family he’d forgotten the most important part of the whole thing.
Take care of yourself.
Guilt crashed through him. Guilt on his own behalf, guilt on Tello’s. He wasn’t responsible for every Donatello in every version of themselves, but sometimes it felt like he was the cause of it all. Like he was the first, the one who had doomed every Donatello to a fate of being lost, to a fate of failing to protect their family.
He added another soul to grieve on his shoulders. Another photograph he couldn’t have. Another life he couldn’t speak of.
He meant to walk away, but Leonardo spotted him across the arena. Recognition made him perk up for a moment, and then his expression fell as he saw the knowing look in Ghost’s eyes.
Ghost took a breath. They met in the middle.
It was like fitting a piece into a puzzle where the picture didn’t match.
He didn’t know what else to do but murmur a soft, “I’m so sorry.”
He was apologizing for so much more than just the loss of Tello. He was apologizing to them and his own brothers. To every version of them that Donatello had failed.
Then Mikey gave him a worried look, and it felt all so unfair again. Some part of himself that made him ill wanted to know how Tello died, what they’d done to prevent it, what hadn’t worked. He wanted to know how they were holding up, what they were doing without Tello, how they were functioning, if they were functioning at all.
He squashed the selfish part of himself, the part that wanted to know if his family could have felt the same ways. These were a version of his kids, and here he was with the urge to interrogate them about their brother’s death.
Ghost swallowed it. Mikey still gave him a sad smile.
“He was with us,” Mikey said softly. “In our arms. He went peacefully, in his sleep.”
Ghost’s expression twisted from the flat gaze he’d managed to hold. God, that was his son saying that. That was his son that had died. Not them exactly, but enough like them that it felt like he was being told his children had died in a war that he wasn’t allowed to be a part of.
He couldn’t even cry for them. It felt unfair to be so upset, to be so ruined over a Donatello that wasn’t even his.
He swallowed it.
“He loved you all so much,” Ghost whispered. Even that felt unfair to say, but he knew, and he needed them to know. He needed them to know.
“We know,” Leo replied. He touched the hilt of the sword at his waist, running a shock of purple fabric through his fingers.
Ghost took a breath. It felt like he had to force himself to breathe, like he had forgotten how. Instinctively, he signed, circling his fist over his chest in an apology, thinking they were the same as his kids, that they could read sign language somehow.
He pressed his hand over his chest and got control of his breathing again. Found his voice. “That’s good.”
He hoped the depth of it all didn’t show on his face. He was trying to keep his expression as flat as possible, but it felt like he’d lost someone important. He wasn’t great at dealing with that.
Obviously. He’d been grieving for 24 years.
“I’ll see you guys around,” Ghost whispered, bowing his head slightly. A small, polite gesture he picked up from his own father.
He turned and walked away.
He couldn’t bring them anything but more grief.
There was no solace in his words he could offer, no pain he could lessen with his presence.
He was the wrong missing piece.
He couldn’t fill their void just like they couldn’t fill his.
His son was dead.
His brothers were gone.
The world was ending but continuing on.
He swallowed it and pulled his hood up.
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Counting Steps (Vash the Stampede x Reader)
Summary: While traveling with Vash, you get a wound and decide to hide it from him.
A/N: Howdy! This is my first Trigun fic, please be nice hehe. This was originally written with Tri Stamp Vash in mind, but then it turned into me mixing him with 98 Vash, and so now we have this.
I'm considering making a little series about the reader and Vash because I am so whipped for this silly blonde man, the brain rot is insane. If that's something you'd be interested in lmk!
I hope you guys like it <3 ALSO this was cross-posted to my AO3
Warnings: Mild violence, mild blood/injury, fainting
Word Count: 2.5k
This was inspired by this quote from @creativepromptsforwriting: “When were you going to tell me you were bleeding? When you’re already dead?!”
98. 99. That’s another 100 steps. Start over.
You grit your teeth, clutching your side fiercely. Luckily, you are wearing black, so Vash hadn’t seen the sticky, dark stain appear. Your faithful traveling companion walks several paces ahead of you, leading the two of you to a nearby settlement. You couldn’t be that far away now, right? God, you hope not.
You lose your footing, stumbling briefly before catching yourself. White hot pain shoots through your abdomen, and you can’t stop the hiss that slides out between your teeth. Fortunately, Vash doesn’t seem to be able to hear it over the sounds of the wind. A bead of sweat rolls down your face, and you pause, allowing yourself to pant for a moment. Not for long, though. You have to keep moving.
Counting your steps in increments of 100 has been your method of keeping yourself focused. It was a simple task, something to devote all of yourself to for the time being. If you could keep going, one step at a time, you knew you could make it to the town.
17. 18. 19. That’s another 20.
Your mind wanders to the very situation that caused you to get an injury in the first place. What a mess today has been.
You have been traveling with the infamous Vash the Stampede for months at this point. Shootouts and run-ins with bandits and bounty hunters made for another Tuesday. Usually, that was no problem for you guys. You knew your way around a gun and could certainly hold your own, so what the fuck happened today?
30. 31. 32.
The two of you had stopped at a small plant you’d come across while traveling in the desert, thinking it was a good chance to take a breather. Little did you know, you were walking right into a stick-up, with a small group of bandits robbing a family that had stopped there as well. You and Vash stepped in quickly to help, easily incapacitating the bandits. Vash’s attention readily became focused on helping out the family, noticing that the oldest child had gotten a gash on the head.
Allowing Vash to handle the damage control inside, you had stepped back outside to catch your breath. You walked over to the side of the building, leaning against it and resting in the shadow it produced. Out of the corner of your eye, though, you saw movement. Apparently, there was another person involved that had slipped away. You sprung into action, running around the building to where you’d seen the figure disappear. After that, everything happened really fast.
The man was quick, and he lunged at you with startling speed. You were able to dodge the initial thrust of his knife towards your gut, but you didn’t sidestep fast enough, feeling the blade tear a gash into your side. The adrenaline in your system helped you to ignore the pain, and you whipped around, kicking the knife out of his hand and twisting his arm behind his back. Before he knew it, you had him pinned on the ground, arms pulled uncomfortably behind his back. Drawing your small revolver from its holster, you swiftly hit the back of his head with the grip, feeling his body go limp under you.
After he passed out, the tension left your body and you leaned back with a sigh. It was at this point that you started to feel the sharp, stinging pain radiating from your side. Glancing down with a wince, you moved your jacket aside, laying your eyes on the gash that had been so generously given to you by your friend here. Because you wore your jacket open, it looked like it had blown out of the way and been spared by the blade. So, at the very least, you wouldn’t be spending the evening sewing the jacket up. Your body was a different story, unfortunately.
It was a small, but deep, clean cut. It wasn’t anything worse than what you’ve had before. But, it would definitely need some stitches. You were almost positive you could patch this up with the first aid kit inside.
You released your jacket, heaving yourself off the ground with some effort, applying pressure to the wound. Once on your feet, you made your way back around front, finding the entrance to the small building.
Vash was crouched, chatting to the teary-eyed children, calming them down with a practiced ease that came from many years of experience around kids. He smiled at them, and said something that drew a giggle from the children. Their parents watched from nearby with grateful smiles, eventually pulling him into a conversation with them as well. A soft smile formed on your lips, as it often did when you saw him have these types of interactions.
Your pain brought you back down to reality though, and you grimaced. Your eyes scanned the room for the first aid kit, and you found it lying on a small table. You quietly walked over, and immediately grabbed some gauze to hold against the wound. You sifted through the contents, searching for the thread, knowing you definitely had some. It wasn’t until you remembered that one of the kids had gotten a cut to the head that you turned around, seeing the last of your thread stitched up in a wound already. Vash might be holding onto some more, but even if he were, it likely wouldn’t be enough.
Well. Shit.
You faced away from everyone again, trying to think of what to do. You were less than half a day’s walk from the next town. You didn’t have any supplies other than some gauze that would help. Telling Vash would worry him, and he’d definitely want to carry you the rest of the way, even though you knew his prosthetic had been causing him soreness recently.
You were just gonna have to suck it up and walk. You stuffed gauze into your pockets as discreetly as you could, before hearing your name called from behind you softly. You turned your head to the side, heart skipping a beat at seeing those gorgeous blue eyes gazing at you.
“Everything okay?” he asked quietly, concern creasing his brow. You wanted to reach out and smooth your fingers over it, not wanting him to worry about anything.
Instead, you gave him a convincing smile. “Yeah. I found another guy outside. We should probably tie him up with the others before leaving.” The person running the plant assured you both that they would be fine while they waited for authorities to arrive to take the men away. You made sure your body was angled to where he couldn’t see your bloody hand or the gauze.
He raised his eyebrows, surprised to have missed one, but ultimately nodded, letting you know he’d take care of it. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Mayfly. I’m getting sloppy!” he joked, and you’d giggled in reply, heart fluttering every time he called that. It was just friendly, of course. Because that’s all you were - friends.
That’s another 60 steps. Or was it 70?
You jam your eyes shut, breathing through the worsening pain. You sigh defeatedly. You ran out of gauze an hour ago. The bleeding has slowed, but not fully stopped. Not with all of the pulling from walking. At least the sun is starting to go down, giving you a break from this damned heat.
You look up, seeing Vash’s back ahead, his red coat blowing gently in the wind. The distance is getting greater between the two of you. You’re starting to regret not filling him in about your situation. After noticing your silence not long into the walk, he’d asked once more if everything was all right. You smiled, told him you were fine, and that you’d tell him later tonight. He accepted that begrudgingly, giving you a Look, but had ultimately given you space.
You stop walking, your breathing uneven and heavy. Your vision wasn’t quite right either… had you really lost that much blood? The chill settling into your bones screams ‘yes’ at you. Vash is getting too far away. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
You feel your body trembling, and you close your eyes, a dull ringing in your ears beginning. Your grip on the gauze pressed into your side is getting looser, but you’re starting to care less. It’s not like it’s working anyway.
You are startled out of your thoughts by the feeling of hands gripping your upper arms. You gasp, opening your eyes, struggling to get them to focus for a moment. Once they do, you see Vash in front of you. His mouth is moving, and he looks worried. Oh. They’re his hands, you note, glancing at his arms.
The ringing in your ears subsides enough that you can hear his voice again. He’s calling your name.
“…you okay? What’s wrong?” He asks, searching your eyes.
“Huh?” You manage eloquently.
He sighs, closing his eyes, but he doesn’t let go of you. “You’ll be the death of me, Mayfly. What’s wrong?” He asks. “I know you said you’d tell me later, and, well, it’s technically later now, so…” he trails off, but his words have an expectant tone to them. This doesn’t really seem to be something he wants to budge on.
Not that you’re planning on withholding what’s happening at this point. You are almost certain you’ll pass out here soon.
“Um…” you start, averting your gaze. Finally, he seems to notice the way you’re holding yourself. Specifically, the placement of your arm, tucked into your jacket. His expression shifts into something more knowing, and he seems to have caught on.
He gently reaches down to pull your hand away so he can take a look, but as he does so, your knees buckle and you start a hard fall to the sandy ground. You shut your eyes, waiting for the impact that never comes, as you are wrapped up in a pair of strong arms before falling very far.
You are slowly lowered the rest of the way, and find yourself resting against Vash’s chest on the ground. He’s muttering something under his breath, and you’re murmuring an apology. He pulls your jacket back, sucking in a sharp breath when he sees the bloodied gauze.
“When were you going to tell me you’re bleeding? Once you were already dead?!” He asks, and yeah, you probably deserve that. He’s peeling back the gauze gingerly, scrutinizing the wound, concern etched into his gorgeous face. He’s talking, likely scolding you, but that annoying ringing in your ears is back, so you can’t hear him. You should not be thinking about how pretty he looks right now, but your vision is turning black and you don’t really care anymore. His head turns to face you, his eyes widening. There’s something in his expression you can’t quite identify.
But everything feels heavy, and you are very tired. You slump into his chest, closing your eyes.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
The next thing you know, you are lying in an uncomfortable bed, tucked into itchy, white sheets. You groan, taking in how dry your mouth is and how bad your side hurts.
Oh yeah.
You open your eyes, sitting up with a gasp. You blink hard to clear your vision, but curl into yourself as pain shoots through your abdomen. You feel a set of familiar hands take you by the shoulders.
“Woah! Take it easy! Just take a deep breath for me, okay?”
You feel one of the hands move from your shoulder to rub your back soothingly, and you look up. Those beautiful blue eyes meet yours, relief flooding his features. Vash murmurs your name with a relieved smile.
“There you are. Are you okay?” He asks softly, gently pushing you to lay back down. You put up no resistance.
“Yeah, just a bit sore,” you manage, glancing down to your wound. You move your hand to touch it, applying pressure experimentally, but he moves your hand away, holding onto it instead. Like a worried friend, you remind yourself. You take a moment to glance around the clinical-looking room, and think you already know the answer, but ask anyway. “Where are we?”
His thumb moves slowly across your knuckles, just like a friend would do. In a friendly way. “The local clinic. We weren’t very far out of town when you passed out. I just brought you here right away. That was last night.” His expression shifts from soft to scolding, and he runs his other hand through his blonde hair. “You nearly gave me a heart attack! Don’t do that again!”
You offer a small, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Vash. We’d used the last of the thread for stitches on one of the children, and I thought I could tough it out.”
He stares at you, and you wilt a bit at his hurt expression. “Why wouldn’t you tell me though? We may not have been able to stitch you up right away, but I could have-“
“Carried me into town?” You finish, and he nods. You reach up, gingerly touching his prosthetic arm. His eyes widen slightly, not expecting your touch. “I know your arm has been bothering you lately, and I didn’t want to make it worse.”
His expression softens endearingly once more at your reasoning, the look he’s giving you making you fall in love with him all over again.
“Oh, Mayfly,” he murmurs, “let me decide what I can handle, okay? It wouldn’t have been so bad.”
You understand, but you also frown a bit at his words, raising an eyebrow at him. “But who looks after you? You have and would push yourself past every limit you have for the sake of someone else.”
He sighs, but doesn’t deny what you say, either. “How about we work on compromising a bit? We’ll look after each other, and make sure we aren’t pushing ourselves too hard.”
You try to level him with a stare, but end up relenting with a sigh and a smile. “Fine.”
He smiles back at you, mirroring your tone. “Fine.”
There’s a beat of silence, and it seems like something comes to his mind at that moment. His smile becomes something more like a smirk, and you regard him suspiciously.
“What,” you deadpan, somewhat dreading whatever he has to say.
He props his elbows on your bed, resting his chin on his hands, leaning forward.
“Nothing! I’m just flattered,” he replies, and you really, really don’t like the mischievous glint in his eyes.
“By…?” You ask, narrowing your eyes.
“I didn’t know you thought I was pretty.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes. Of course you do. But you’d never just say that.
“Yeah, right.”
“No really! You said so yourself! Remember? Something like, ‘I should not be thinking about how pretty you look-’”
You choke, blushing furiously. Oh my god. Right before you passed out. You must’ve accidentally said that out loud, delirious.
“I-I did not!” You sputter back, but you know it’s futile. He’s laughing too hard. You hate it, but even now, as he is laughing at you, you can’t help but love the sound of it. You’d do just about anything to keep him laughing and smiling like this.
He pokes your cheek, his laugh dying down. “For the record, I think you’re pretty too. ‘Specially when you’re blushing like this.”
Holy. Shit.
Never mind. You wish you had bled out.
#trigun#trigun stampede#trigun 98#vash the stampede x reader#vash the stampede#vash x reader#vash x you#i love this man#peachy writes!
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So the journey begins —
Hades!Max Verstappen x daughter reader ft. Hermes!Lando and Apollo!Daniel— part two
Tagged— @moss-on-tmblr @natailiatulls07 @norrisleclercf1 @toasttt11 @vivwritesfics @vellicora @venusisnothere @ashy-kit @astraeaworld @alwayzbeenale @badassturtle13 @charlesf1leclerc @crashingwavesofeuphoria @ironcowboycopnickel @lollypop90907 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @ladymarvel27 @hollie911 @bblouifford @purplephantomwolf @formulas-bitch @dark-night-sky-99 @dudenhaaa27
@toasttt11 this is starting to become a little mini series but I don’t think anyone minds
You stared at the man with a skeptical look on your face “No offense but wouldn’t my dad be in his mid-forties or fifties by now? You look like you’re in your twenties” you said looking at Hermes.
“Well, not really when a god or goddess reaches a certain age we just stop aging. It’s the same for you, you'll still age but slower than a human would” he explained.
You nodded your head “Speaking of my father, who is he? My mom never talked about him.” You asked Lando looked up at you, his color draining from his face “Your… mother?” He asked “Yeah my mother you know the woman that my father left and didn’t care to come see on her deathbed that mother” Lando gulped before answering “y/n your mother died during childbirth the woman who raised you took you from your father” he said.
“You lying”
“I’m not your father loves you and he misses you. Trust me if he didn’t care he wouldn’t have sent Erebus to protect you and he wouldn’t have been talking to you in your head when helping you escape the lotus. I’m here because of him to give you something to help you on your journey”
“Who the hell is Erebus?” You asked confused.
“Your guardian or companion for your journey. What did you think his man was?”
“I don’t know Pita”
“Pita?”
“Yeah, you know pain in my ass. It’s been sarcasm and sass for the past few hours”
“Makes sense”
“Hey, what did you mean when you said that the woman who raised me wasn’t my mother?” You asked your voice cracking.
“That isn’t my place to talk about that you should ask your father when you see him”
“If I see him I don’t even know where he is or who he is”
Lando smiles “Your father is Hades the god of the underworld he goes by Max” he explained.
“Max is he a dog why on earth would a god want to go by the name Max”
“He likes the name we all have human names to help us blend in”
“It’s just Max is so basic”
“I’ll be sure to tell him that when I see him next. Now for official business, I present to you a bag to help you with your journey” Lando explained, pulling a large backpack out of thin air and handing it to you.
Taking the bag you unzipped it and looked at its contents
Money and lots of it
Funky-looking coins
A big metal jug of water
Some junk food
A small knife
A book
An iPod with music???
A couple of changes of clothes
A thick coat
“Ok question um what are these gold coin-looking things and why a book and an iPod?” You asked confused.
“Ok the coins are drachmas and Daniel must have added the iPod and book,” Lando says.
“Ok, another question: whose Daniel?”
“Oh Daniel, that's his human name. His actual name is Apollo. He's a walking ball of sunshine and is always smiling. His whole thing is poetry and music. He kinda has a Peace and love kinda vibe. He also has your dad wrapped around his finger”
“Oh really?!”
“Yeah, they’re close friends. Daniel thought you would enjoy this author Edgar Allen Poe who wrote these dark yet beautiful poems. And well who doesn’t like music”
“We’ll tell him I said thank you”
“I will let him know, now back to the mission at hand which is your journey. You can’t get there by plane or by boat. It's forbidden. So you’ll have to travel at night by using the shadow portals. You'll have to get to Las Vegas, there’s this recording studio called Dead on Arrival that's where the entrance to the underworld is. I also have something else for you "Lando says as he hands you a dark jet-black crystal on a necklace and a black cloak.
“Dead on Arrival like the fall out boy song?”
“No it’s nothing like the song”
“Oh okay What are these for?” You asked, rubbing your thumb on the black crystal..? No obsidian, that's what it was. You could feel the power coming from both the cloak and Obsidian.
“They are to help you travel through the shadows”
“Yeah because that makes perfect sense”
“Yeah I don't know how it works but Erburs will show and help you”
“Ok then,” you said, placing the necklace around your neck.
“Oh one more thing, Erburs was created to protect you. Most Demigods have Saturs to protect them but you don’t Erburs were a part of your father at one point in time so trust him”
“Yeah that’s the problem I don’t know who or what to trust anymore,” you said looking down.
“Trust Yourself”
“What?”
“Trust yourself, trust your instincts, your gut, believe and trust in yourself,” Lando says gently, getting out of the booth and placing a warm hand on your shoulder.
“Good luck and remember what I said,” Lando says walking out of the dinner.
Finishing up breakfast you gather everything that Lando gave you and walk out outside into a dark alley Where you find PITA waiting for you. Standing in front of the shadow man you put the cloak on over the backpack and pulling the hood over your head the power of the shadows envelops you.
“Well, are you ready?” You asked the shadow, smiling as he gave you a thumbs up.
“Alright then show me what to do”
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen icons#max verstappen fic#max verstappen f1#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#f1 au#f1 x pjo
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Lesbian wolfstar - the expanded version
The list is based on the original rec list by @strwbi-laces (which you can find here) but let’s just get into it:
what’s mine is yours, decaying in your arms and her body is a temple down in the frozen food aisle , a shot of succubus , feast and a dash of fae by @achilleslikespeas (plus these two microfics x x)
don’t panic by redspottywellies
I’ve come home by @strwbi-laces
Cute thing by @padfootsoftly
All of @plecotusauritus microfics: gymnast lesbians x x x x x x x x x x and pretty things
All of @pinklume microfics: x x x x x x
pomegranates (chapter six of ocho kandelikas) by @spindrifters
just a restless feeling by my side by unwholesome_gay
It was all by design by @melodramvs
tough, tried and true blue by @worldenough-and-time
boredom by moonymajor
development
Sweet talk
You & I (together and apart) by chillsoya
if I could walk away from me by Barry_Manilows_Wardrobe
thirsty by WolfyWordWeaver
Lesbian Wolfstar pretty woman au by @spookymoonie
The whole lesbian wolfstar series by @aspiring-artist-em which includes Make me sweetheart, you’re safe love, Baby you’re okay, Too much Moony , please, I’m begging you, Mother, Remus Lupin and her little bitch, fourteen, you don’t love me you don’t care
Angel of small death and the beautiful lady (without mercy) by @strezzlecki
Fire on Fire by @atlasdoe
religions in your lips (the altar is my hips) by ourmidnights
Baby, you don’t have to rush by iloveuregulus
Song for no one by ninabnormal (@thebunnymen)
Comfort and Promises by TwistedShadows
Chasing after you is like a fairytale series by ManyCats which includes Don’t you wonder when the light begins to fade? , And I got back up (those days are over) and the things we lost in the fire
This microfic by @canyouhearmyfear bruises and water
Midnight girls and it’s companion piece Soul Somethings
Dress by criersw1fey
Summer refreshments and Last Chance by @wxlfstxrisbest
Miss sugar pink and She’s a rainbow by @samdaydreams
With your hair down and soft like summer rain by @lunarlivs
hand me my heart in the palm of your hand while it’s still beating , keep my heart in the freezer so it doesn’t go bad with my love , fate is giving us a hard time but maybe romance isn’t dead and God Blessed/Hell bound by @maliceofminds
Hang me up to dry by EuripidesTrousers(I_DDare_You)
She with the eyes my heart does blind and some part of me came alive the first time you called me baby , not looking for absolution, forgiveness for the things i do, only live to admire your beauty, i want to hold you close (soft breath, beating heart) by @mothlau
Ribs are designed to be crawled into and Always pushing her luck by @sommerregenjuniluft
this is my body by @kaleidoscopexsighs
the first time you called me baby by @a-round-of-robyns
Love and Universal Truths, There‘s Something Wretched About This and Real Love, Baby by @werewolfenthusiast
If I forgot to tag someone just message me and I’ll edit it, I just couldn’t find everyone’s tumblr tbh:). Also everyone feel free to add to this I’m sure I’m forgetting something<3
#i do love making a good list#and this was very neat#also thank you to everyone for feeding the agenda#lesbian wolfstar#recs#saved
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Notes: This post is created as an archive for myself so I can easily find the fics I love. If you're looking for something new to read feel free to have a look I recommend everything here. I read many different characters/universes, so I'll list them all so you don't waste time looking at something that isn't relevant to you. If you find something you like please show the fics and their authors some love! Also, this is a long post!
Disclaimer: None of the works below belongs to me unless it explicitly says so. © - All rights reserved to the authors. If a fic does not have a name I will make one up for the sake of archival purposes.
Characters/Universes
TWD (The walking dead) - Daryl & Rick | Criminal Minds - Hotch & Ried | Stranger Things - Eddie, Steve, Billy | MCU - Peter Parker | Peakcy blinders - Tommy, John, Arthur, Alfie | The devil all the time - Arvin russel | Sherlock
Key ➸ Angst ☁ | Fluff ♡ | Crack ❈ | On-going ✎ | Completed ✓ | Smut 🔞 |
Daryl Dixon (TWD) ↴
Series ↴
Spitfire | by @rfsak2 | OC (Original character) | "Everyone always thought Daryl was the rough one." | ✎
Close to home | by @paintyoureyeswithavividmind | "When a run goes poorly and Daryl is separated from his group, a stranger and her companion help get him out of a sticky situation. Little does Daryl know this stranger is much closer to home and his life is going to get a bit more complicated" | ✎♡ ☁
Return | by @daryl-dixon-daydreams | "Daryl loses Y/N when they head into Atlanta to rescue Beth. Her absence colours his years until they find each other again." | ♡ ☁ ❈ ✎
Till dead do us part | by @xwritingdixonx | "Daryl Dixon hasn't seen his wife in 3 years until he strolls through the gates of Alexandria. Reunited with his love and his family, he should feel peace, tranquillity, warmth. Instead, he's faced with confusion, shock, and heartache. Just like so many others put through the abuse and torment of the world, it changes people. Twists your mind, makes all your morals disappear. The kind waitress, the brave bartender, Georgia's delight, Mrs. Dixon. Now, mother of nothing - daughter of rage. The whore of Alexandria. A conqueror with tits. Why can't the Blackwell family get a word in before the people of Alexandria point fingers and create storybook titles? It's finally your turn to talk and Daryl's turn to listen." |
Oneshots ↴
The regulars | by daryl-dixon-daydreams | "Based on watching your interactions, Daryl thinks you, a bartender at a local dive, may actually have a thing for his older brother Merle, but a series of events at the bar may begin to show him otherwise" | ♡
All I'm living for | by @alldevilsharehere90 | "Just when you finally got the man you wanted, another surprise could threaten your relationship, especially when a herd of walkers is almost at your doorstep." | ☁ ♡
Old childhood fools | by @r66dus | "Drunk Daryl and y/n fooling around at the CDC" | 🔞
♠ ♤ ♣ ♧
Rick Grimes (TWD) ↴
Series ↴
The Claim | by @woman-of-balnain | Despite everything that’s going on, despite the world going to shit, despite wanting to stay on Hershel’s good side, despite his marriage falling apart, despite the way he knows he’s broken… despite it all, Rick can’t fight how badly he wants you. | 🔞✓
Undone in sorrow | by woman-of-balnain | "Finally coming face to face with Negan threatens the ties that bind your relationship with Rick together. After that first meeting, the two of you try to pick up the broken pieces of one another and become whole again." | ☁ 🔞
The nurse | by @itsgrimeytime | " Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You'd always wondered where he'd ended up; until in your search for shelter, you run into a familiar face" | ✎♡ ☁
Magnolia in May | by itsgrimeytime | "Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumours of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing." | ✎♡ ☁
Swear | by @daryandricky | "Shane tells reader that Rick didn't make it after the hospital was overrun, causing reader to travel with her former military brother to find somewhere safe." | ✎♡ ☁
Oneshots ↴
The life we could have had | by itsgrimeytime | "Rick knows you're gone, he does. He just keeps seeing you in everything" |
Everything I wanted | by @bloatedandalone04 | "The one where both you and rick are really bad at communicating your feelings." |
♠ ♤ ♣ ♧
Peter Parker (MCU) ↴
Oneshot ↴
Stacked against you (tasm)| by @delicate-dorothea | "Summary: You confront Spider-Man about his true identity, manila envelope style (literally)." |❈
No chance (tasm) | by @spider-stark | "Thinking he has no chance with y/n as himself, Peter begins approaching them as Spider-Man." |
Are you busy (tasm)| by @luveline | "You’re worried you don’t know how to kiss. your best friend Peter offers to teach you how among other things" | ♡
In the real world | by luveline | "You notice something about Spider-Man during a violent villain showdown, then you have to save his life."
White lies, red & blue tights (tasm) | by @t-lostinworlds | "You and Peter accidentally dressed up in the same costumes for Halloween. But he was not wearing a costume, it was his suit. You simply didn’t know that your favorite superhero and your boyfriend were the same. Who would’ve thought that seeing you in red and blue would be the breaking point of his lies" | ♡
Question (tom)| by @waitimcomingtoo | "Peter accidentally sends you mixed signals when he kisses you for the first time then stands you up" | ♡ ☁
It was fun, being 21 (tom)| by @loverwebs | "In which your boyfriend, Peter Parker, doesn't make it to your birthday dinner. So you walk home alone, only to run into the city's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man." | ♡ ☁
Series ↴
Infinitely you (all of them) | by spider-stark | "In every universe you are the one person Peter Parker will always love more than anything; unfortunately, he always realizes it too late. Now that they've been granted a second chance none of them are willing to miss out on finally making things right." | ☁ ♡ ✎|
The red string | by @never--doubt | "Once a year, everyone over a certain age can see the Red String of Fate that connects them to their soulmate. This year, Peter Parker is ready to find his soulmate, be with them. But the question is…is his soulmate ready?" |
♠ ♤ ♣ ♧
Steve Harrington (ST) ↴
Series ↴
Nail to the coffin | by @thetargaryenbride | "Y/N Byers wondered what would end up being the death of the small town she lived in. She never expected that the last nail on the coffin would be hammered by monsters from another dimension who would end up hunting down her friends and family one by one…" | ☁
You deserve each other | by @bimrwolf | "You and Steve have been together for five years. He's seemingly the perfect boyfriend, kisses on the cheek, knowing your orders at the restaurant. A great lover. Too bad you've had enough can't stand him." |
Oneshots ↴
The way you call me "Baby" | by @forevermoreharrington | "Steve’s been so patient with his girl but he just can’t take it anymore and neither can she" | 🔞
Love on the brain | by @vendettaparker | "You suffer from a bad case of pregnancy brain, leaving Steve to hover over you, much to your annoyance." | ♡
Almost Got It | by @mentalpolaroids | "She’s a barista at a coffee shop and always screws up Steve’s name on purpose" | ♡
Tainted Love | by @megxplryxb | ☁ ♡
Tornado warnings | by @harringtonwebs | "You and Steve had a very intense relationship now that you're up, hates to see you with someone new." |
I will always be right there | by @familyvideostevie | "you come first. you’re always my first choice." | ♡
Tell me again | by @appocalipse | "Would you stop stuffing your face with candy for one moment and listen?" |
♠ ♤ ♣ ♧
Eddie Munson ↴
Oneshot ↴
Mechanic Eddie | by @whoahoney | "Reader’s shit box car pooped out on her once again, but at least the cute new mechanic seems eager to help." | ♡
Say you love me | by @marianita195 | "Based on the TikTok trend where girls don’t say “I love you” back to their boyfriends. " | ♡ ❈
Bookworm | by @corroded-hellfire | "Eddie has a thing for the local bookworm he just doesn't show it in the best way." | ☁ ♡
I'm Eddie - Eddie Munson | by @cosmal | "Your father finds Eddie in your room in the middle of something. eddie's a smug bastard." |
His glasses | by @pedgito | "Eddie in his glasses is just adorable" |
Grand Gesture | by appocalipse | "catching feelings for your best friend was never in your plans. when you start distancing yourself from him to protect your heart, eddie vows to do everything in his power to keep it forever." | ♡
Never Kissed | by cosmal | "eddies first date with you doesn't go how he'd planned and he hadn't even expected a kiss. still, you kiss him because you want to."
Series ↴
Worlds Apart | by @munsons-maiden | "You’re the only survivor among the Mind Flayer’s victims, thanks to your friends - but after the Battle of Starcourt, you find yourself adrift in a sea of nightmares. Until an encounter in the woods with Eddie The Freak Munson offers an unexpected lifeline and turns your world upside down." | ☁ ♡
♠ ♤ ♣ ♧
Spencer Ried (CM) ↴
Oneshots ↴
Passive Agressive | by @ddejavvu | "Spencer’s stressed, and he takes it out on you. You’re sure it would have hurt far worse if he’d shouted, but instead, he broke you down bit by bit, his cold demeanour leaving you crying in your car." | ☁ ♡
Tactic Admissions | by @almostgenerallyalways | "Spencer lands in the hospital, and you have to come clean with yourself." | ☁ ♡
Days off with Spencer | by @justmyheart | ♡
Back to you | by @radiant-reid | "Spencer never thought she would love him the way he loves her, but he also never thought she would come back from the dead" | ☁ ♡
No hair for you, devil! | by @thyme-in-a-bubble |
♠ ♤ ♣ ♧
Aaron Hotchner (CM) ↴
Oneshots ↴
Self-Made | by @her-storybooks | "The BAU gets a visitor who tares through the bullpen and leaves everyone in puddles of mush and exploded hearts." | ♡
Good for him | by @ptersparkers | "Aaron loves you. he hopes his son loves you as much as he does." | ♡
Better than morphine | by her-storybooks | "Broken Bone. When Y/N gets her leg broken by an UnSub, she clings to Aaron to help dull the pain." | ☁ ♡
Spontaneous phenomena | by @luveline | "Hotch touches your face much more than a boss should. Or, 5 times you have a nosebleed +1 time Hotch does." | ☁ ♡
Old man problems | by @hoe4hotchner | "Can you possibly write an imagine where Hotch pulls his back on a case, and the fem'reader offers to help him work it out in a friendly way because she was once a licensed massage therapist? Aaron of course is hesitant but gives in and allows it. But it gets heated" | ♡
Sweeter than fiction | By @hotchgirlsummer | "The bau decides to throw a small birthday party for Hotch. the reader is tasked with baking a cake, could this be their chance to express feelings?" |
A solitary mistake | by luveline | " You're not sure you're ready to come back. Hotch has total faith in you. Or, your transition back into the team after your abduction doesn't go as smoothly as you'd hoped." |
I'm Sorry | by @14buddy22 | "Aarons been treating you differently lately" | ☁
New mom | by @marvelslut16 |
♠ ♤ ♣ ♧
Thomas Shelby (PB) ↴
Series ↴
Challenge of a name | by @gypsy-girl-08 | "Y/N is new to Birmingham, she works at an accountant firm. In this part, The Shelby’s arrive at her office to pick up their accounts, where she meets Thomas for the first time. She was in a long-term relationship and is recently single, having moved for a fresh start. Still recovering from the split, she has no intention of meeting anyone else."
Tachipen | by @zablife | "With the flip of a coin, Tommy makes a deal to bring a 20 year old gypsy girl into the Shelby clan. Considering her too young to marry, he employs her as a nanny. When tragedy strikes, he’s forced to confront the truth he has always known." |
Angst | by @murphyoclock | "Your and Tommy's argument gets out of hand when you provocatively try to make him jealous at his charity party." | ☁
Oneshots ↴
Peaky caps and razorblades | by @acewritesfics | "y/n helps Tommy sew his blades into his cap." | ♡
♠ ♤ ♣ ♧
John Shelby (PB) ↴
Oneshots ↴
Just play along | by @runnning-outof-time | "When the person who (Y/N) feels has been following her gets a little too close for comfort, she makes a quick decision that involves John Shelby and some good acting...or maybe no acting at all." |
Red lipstick | by @kkurades | "You feel flattered when charlie shelby asks to marry you while your husband feels like he could strangle his nephew" |
♠ ♤ ♣ ♧
Alfie Solomon (PB) ↴
Oneshots
A very Shelby Christmas | by @cillmequick | "Alfie and his sassy little wife find themselves in the midst of the Shelby clan for Christmas because Alfie’s sister is in a relationship with Tommy." |
♠ ♤ ♣ ♧
Steddie (ST) ↴
Oneshots
Cookies and consoling | by @mangchai | "After a hard day, you return home to your boyfriends who want to cheer you up." | ♡
♠ ♤ ♣ ♧
Billy (ST) ↴
Oneshots ↴
Bartender Billy | by @billysbabyy |
♠ ♤ ♣ ♧
Arvin Russel (TDATT)↴
Oneshots ↴
Mockingbird | by waitimcomingtoo | "Arvin joins a book club just to see you but has to pretend to be your boyfriend to stay"
Notes: This post only contains all longer fics I will be creating a separate post for shorter fics/ i.e. headcanons, imagines, drabbles and scenarios that I love. The link to that will be here → The little things.
#daryl dixon x reader#peter parker x reader#rick grimes x reader#aaron hotch x reader#arvin russell x reader#eddie munson x reader#steve harrington x reader#tommy shelby x reader#john shelby x reader#spencer reid x reader#alfie solomons x reader#daryl x reader#aaron hotch fanfiction#rick grimes x you#peter parker fanfiction#tasm peter parker x reader
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Chatlog Part 1
author's note: this might turn into a series I am unsure I hope you guys enjoy this. Once again English is not my first language I apologize for the writing.
-This series is about how people in teyvat see the conversation between the creator and their companion for us irl it's just chat messages in co-op.
-Spoilers for the recent archon quest 4.1
-GN reader (might change that in the future)
TW: nothing so far usual cult stuff
Ajax grimaced and glared at the Gardes holding him down. The posh marble floor reflected his annoyed visage and he had half a mind to destroy the expensive flooring. The Gardes were speaking about him as if he was not there listening to everything they said. They paid him no mind talking about things like the Fortress, the Oratrice, and arrest. Ajax paid them no mind he was far too annoyed to listen in. This vacation was getting worse and worse.
Then the traveler came, no it was their grace.
Suddenly this moment was more tolerable than it would not have been. The Gardes talking quieted and everyone was hypervigilant of the traveler. It seems their Grace was not alone, next to them their companion was walking behind them.
Their grace came closer it was then Ajax realized they were coming towards him. His breath hitched. He felt blood rush towards his face, he did not want to be seen by their grace like this. Weak and bound against his will where there was nothing he could do.
The traveler- no their grace stood now in front of him. Their face was neutral no indication of what they thought. The sun shined on the traveler in a golden glow. Their ethereal aura swept over the room like a warm blanket and his knees almost buckled over to kneel.
Suddenly their grace pointed the traveler's finger towards him and the traveler's face changed into a shit-eating grin.
"Ha ha! The evil fatui got arrested. Get rekt!"
Ajax wanted to cry.
"Gee no need to beat a dead horse," said the companion of their Grace through another's body Ajax could not name who.
Ajax wanted to protest that the creator could say whatever they wanted but the system binding them interfered and petrified his body. It was not just him thankfully everyone in this world seemed to be still and unable to acknowledge their Grace, except for their companion. How unfair.
The traveler who was possessed by their grace laughed and how lovely that sounded.
"Hey do you think we can visit him and prison and then," they laughed again, "feed him on a dog bowl?"
"That is oddly specific and sadistic."
"Please it would be so funny," said their grace and laughed.
If it meant that he would be mocked and humiliated to hear their grace laugh so carefree he would eat on a dog bowl and more. Ajax had no shame in that but what he found shameful, which he wanted to bury, was the feeling of wanting to be taken care of and worried over.
*Look at me they are imprisoning me against my will for something I did not do.*
Ajax knew he did not have that privilege or was deserving of it.
"Come let's go to the domain already," their Grace's companion said and went ahead to leave.
Their Grace followed after their companions and it seemed that their brief interaction would end. Ajax felt slightly helpless unable to do anything. Just as their creator was about to leave their grace turned around.
"By the way, I will most likely bust you out of prison stay put for the next one and a half months!"
Ajax looked up with a grin after hearing the declaration, by then their grace had already left.
"You heard that? our grace will be breaking me out," Ajax said with a challenging grin to the Gardes.
Said Gardes looked confused and pale-faced.
.
.
.
One and a half month later in the Fortress of Meropide the creator themselves came to the facility.
"CHILDE WHERE ARE YOU I TOLD YOU TO ####### STAY PUT!!!"
#genshin impact#sagau#self aware au#self aware genshin#cult au#childe#tartaglia#fatui#fatui harbingers#steambird headline the next day: fatui harbringer will be busted out by our grace??? find out and read more#after hearing about it arlecchino is so done with childe she does not care anymore#the tsaritsa spit her tea out when she heard the creators plan/j#also can you guess who the companion of the creator is?
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Out of Time
Chapter 5 - "Oh Brother, I've Returned"
an: While it does not fit this chapter entirely, I listened to "Brother" by Madds Buckley a lot during this chapter. As an older sister who moved out when my younger sibling was under 10, I feel the guilt of being gone while your siblings grow up without you. I highly recommend that song.
If you love this header go check out zaldritzosrose for more amazing work! She is tagged on the series masterlist and on my welcome post!
Find the series Master list here!
Summary: "It is not a ridiculous notion to fear what we do not know. Yet you cannot let your fears keep you from them."
TW: Anxiety, profanity, angst, dead daddy issues, literal bone crushing hugs, substance use, fear of addiction, detailed descriptions of Viserys I death, descriptions of severe pain, Vizzy is not a good parent, Aemond and Jace making a scene at dinner AGAIN, very large and physically intimidating men, Jaehaerys being very much a brother, Joffrey and Luke being little shithead brothers,
Romantic Pairings: Very brief focus on Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader, Very brief focus on Jacaerys Velaryon x Twin!Reader, Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon!Reader.
Other characters shining in this chapter: Ser Erryk, Jaehaera Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon, Joffrey Velaryon, Aegon iii, Viserys Targaryen ii, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Alicent Hightower
Word count: 6.6k (oops)
The fuzzy feelings disappeared by late afternoon. A bright side was that I was absolutely starving when dinner time came. When I stood from my bed, I found I still had no pain. It was great to be able to walk across the room in less than five minutes.
I met Ser Erryk just outside my room. He greeted me as he always did, cheerful and just seemingly grateful. He spoke to me of the apparent menu for the night. We were to have braised goose with roasted chestnuts and cabbage.
“You like goose?” I asked him as we walked.
“I do, princess. It is greasy, so unappealing to some. I believe your mother is among them,” he said, smiling at me.
“It was a joke of sorts, between her and my father. A discussion they had before they were married. She likes to have it every so often as a way to remember him,” I told him.
It was true enough. The reason why Ser Laenor was who claimed us was apparent to me when I thought of him. He was never without the company of a male companion. When we first went to Dragonstone, he brought a young knight. Joffrey is named after a knight he knew in his youth, whose death devastated him in unimaginable ways. He loved them both deeply and in a way he could never love Mother.
It was known to her before they married, so when she spoke to him of the marriage, she assured him it would not impose on his life. She equated it to taste, saying like her, he preferred roast duck to goose. There was nothing wrong with that. Some people just like things and that was that.
After his death, I found Mother would request goose for our dinner. When I pointed out that he had never picked it out himself, she told me that was the point. The goose was meant to represent their effort in marriage, and for her it was a way to honor him. She had so much love for him, and he for her, even if it was not the type of love she shared with my blood father or even Daemon.
I truly believe they were soulmates. Most believed that soulmates were romantic, that it always ended with love and sex and all those things that made people gooey inside. There was not a person alive, though, that could convince me Mother and Laenor did not belong together in life even though they were not in love. You cannot have a best friend like that and tell me that the gods did not design you for that person.
Often I think how there was nobody better than Laenor to have been with her. Yes, my father and her loved one another in a way most wouldn’t understand. Yes, Daemon seems an equal match for her now. And yes, Laenor had loved his male companions the way he perhaps should’ve loved the one he married. But they understood each other on a fundamental level. They never begrudged one another, never showed anything to us that wasn’t pure love and respect for not only us but one another. Even if it were not romantic love, they were made to love each other.
“Ser Laenor was a good man. I think he would be proud of who you are,” he told me. “I truly believe that.”
Sometimes I didn’t know how to feel about Ser Laenor. He was not my blood. His opinions on me truly held no bearing in the grand scheme of things, as he was never who I had to impress. My inheritance would’ve never come from him.
But anytime I heard he would be proud of me, I wanted to beg for more. Blood or not he was my father. He was the man who claimed me. He loved me. How could I not want him to be proud of me?
“Thank you, Ser Erryk. I appreciate it,” I whispered, trying to not let my voice crack under the emotion.
We continued walking along without speaking any further. I could hear music and laughter as we approached the Small Hall. Don’t let the name fool you, though. Located in the Tower of the Hand, it had to be smaller than the Great Hall where the Throne sat, but this hall still held over two hundred people if so desired. With a family so large, it made sense to have our dinners here.
Erryk went to open the door but I reached out my hand to grab his before he could. The sounds of the ones I love being happy on the other side of this door terrified me. We were all mostly happy that night, the night I disappeared. At least we were for a moment in time.
My finger tips went numb and my bottom lip was trembling. It had been hard enough just being alone with those I’ve had time with already. But to see all of them, all at once, felt like it was an impossible task.
I had yet to speak to any of my brothers other than Jace. Trying to face the very distinct possibility of Little Aegon and Viserys disliking me felt like my stomach was being tied in knots. Joffrey was fourteen now, what if he didn’t like me either? Or if Luke was angry with me, somehow blaming me for being gone, I don’t think I could take it.
So much time had been lost. I was newly eighteen when I disappeared, now Jace and I were fast approaching twenty four. Aemond had been nineteen, Helaena twenty, Aegon twenty two, and Luke just fifteen. We all had so much time together. But Joffrey had only been nine, Little Aegon four, and Viserys only two. I had missed such a grand portion of their lives, even more when thinking of the year I was in King’s Landing beforehand, I didn’t think I could fit.
“We can go back if you wish,” Erryk said quietly to me. “I will make some excuse as to why you remain in your rooms. They needn’t know.”
“What kind of person is scared of their family for no reason?” I whispered to him, looking at him as a tear slowly rolled down my cheek.
It would maybe make sense if they had been terrible to me. But even the worst among them treated me as though I was golden. Alicent, who had undoubtedly been abhorrent to Mother and my brothers to the point she demanded all of us be brought to her when Mother was fresh from her labors, had loved me. I could distinctly remember sitting on her lap as a small child while my grandsire told Jace and I about the Kingdoms the would one day be ours.
“The first time Arryk and I went home after we were appointed to the Kingsguard, I was certain our parents would shut the door in our face,” he told me. “How could they not? I mean we were the only two heirs to our house and we both took an oath that forbade us from having lands, having a wife, having children. We effectively ended our house with us. But all our parents cared about was that we were happy and safe. It is not a ridiculous notion to fear what we do not know. Yet you cannot let your fears keep you from them.”
I could not look him in the eye. Part of me was so ashamed to feel as scared that I did. To me, it was a ridiculous notion. I’m the blood of the dragon, how could I fear anything?
He put his other hand over top mine, that still held onto him like my life depended on it. That was what let me meet his gaze. He truly looked at me with nothing but kindness in his eyes.
“When you were a girl, it is not that you were fearless. It is that you have always loved so fiercely your own fears did not stop you. When you sabotaged the soil stores so that the garden bugs would not die, you faced your mother, Queen Alicent, and your grandsire with tears in your eyes. You were scared of being in trouble, of having done something wrong. Even so, you held Helaena’s hand and explained why you did it. The night of Aemond’s injury, you were scared to anger everyone in explaining what happened. Yet, what mattered to you was the truth and so you told the truth,” he explained to me. “I offer again that I can take you back to your room and I will tell them you were not feeling well.”
The faith he had in the person I am felt comforting. At least there was one person who knew truly who I am. He had no reason to make me fit a certain mold. It was not like with Aemond or Jace in which he needed me to be this perfect representation of a person. He did not need me to understand the darkest parts of him like Aegon did. It was truly like he was a friend.
“Do not stray far from me,” I said quietly to him.
Releasing his hand, I stood straight and readied myself. He opened the door and stood to the side.
When I stepped into the room, for a moment nobody really noticed me and I just got to watch. Viserys, Little Aegon, and Maelor were all running around the room in a game. Mother and Alicent were speaking to one another, smiling. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were animatedly discussing something with Aemond and Helaena. Luke, Jace, and Aegon were all hunched over the table as they laughed about something. Joffrey was in the corner of the room sneaking a little cake.
They were all so happy. Was this truly what it was like all the time now? Had the wounds of the past been so forgotten we could live like this?
Surprisingly, the first to notice me was Jaehaera. She very obviously lit up upon seeing me and got up from her chair near immediately. Wasting no time, she went to the empty chair in between Mother and Alicent and grabbed a bouquet of flowers that had sat in it. It was then others took notice of her movements and all their eyes shifted from her to me.
When I began feeling the fear bubbling up inside me again and my fingertips once again felt numb, I just focused on Jaehaera. This little girl who was so happy when she noticed me, a little girl I adored so much, was now running to me with these flowers in her hand. They were a pretty assortment, consisting peonies, tulips, and lilies.
“Mumma says you like flowers so I picked the prettiest ones,” she said happily when she stopped in front of me. She very proudly held out her bouquet so that I could admire her work.
I smiled softly at Jaehaera as tears welled up in my eyes. “They are lovely, thank you little one,” I said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. Carefully I took the bouquet from her and held it in my hands.
They were not flawless flowers. One of the peonies had not fully bloomed while another had already begun to lose its petals. The lilies had been slightly crushed against the weight of the other flowers. I noticed the tulips had little teeny insects crawling around on them, which Helaena and her children no doubt saw as an added benefit, and as such there were teeny holes in some of the petals. But there was not enough gold in the world that could convince me to rid myself of this bouquet. Despite the flaws, I could not think of it as anything less than perfect. Erryk took them in his own hand before he arranged for a serving girl to take them to my room and put them in water.
She took my hand in hers and began pulling me along to the table. Even in her excitement, she also seemed to be careful with me like everyone else had been.
“Do you want to sit next to me??” Jaehaerys said loudly when I was in arms reach of the table. It caused Jaehaera to stop her path, therefore stopping me.
“Inside voice, bubba,” Jaehaera said softly to him before looking at me. “Excuse him. He forgets we all have ears.”
“That’s okay, Luke was like that too when he was little,” I said to her. It caused them both to grin from ear to ear.
“Did you hear that Jae Jae? I’m like Luke,” he said, noticeably quieter this time, but just as excitedly.
“I am just glad someone else knows about brothers,” Jaehaera said with a giggle.
“I would like to point out that I had no choice but to be loud to make sure I was heard over Jace’s big mouth,” Luke said as he stood from his seat.
When Luke stood I realized he was taller than me. Not near as tall as Aegon, but a noticeable few inches. It caused a great stirring of emotions in my chest. I had anticipated my brothers growing taller than me, in fact it surprised me that Jace was only my height and not taller. Yet, not being here to notice it happening caused an ache.
Especially with Luke. He was only three years younger than me, so I did not remember his birth or his little years quite like I remembered Joffrey’s, Little Aegon’s, or Viserys’. That didn’t keep me from remembering bits and pieces, though. Like, I used to help Mother pick out the clothes he wore as a baby as though he was a doll. I snuck out of bed one night when he was a newborn so that I could sleep next to his cradle. I could remember the first time he got sick and, instead of going to Mother and Laenor, he crawled into bed between Jace and I and leaked snot all over my chest.
The bad parts, the good parts, all of it was not something I would trade for the world. Despite having more conscious thoughts when the younger three were babies, Luke was my baby. To me there was nobody better. He was as good and pure as a person could get. If Mother thought I was the best parts of both my fathers, Luke was the best parts of me. He was every good thing in this world rolled into the sweetest package.
“Now you can’t hold sweets over my head and keep me from getting them,” he said playfully.
“No, but I can still sit on your head until you cry,” I responded. My own ear to ear grin spread across my face. I did not care that it hurt my lip as the skin stretched. Luke was worth it.
“I cried one time! You were crushing my ear!” he defended adamantly.
“I maintain to this day that you should not have taken my book,” I told him with a shrug.
“Hadn’t he already handed it back to you when you sat on him?” Jace asked me.
“I don’t recall asking for your input, Jace,” I said quickly causing Luke to laugh.
Luke was truly a man now. His laugh was deeper, as was his voice. He was twenty now and by no means could he be confused as a child.
He wrapped his arms around me in a near bone crushing hug. Even with the pain shooting through my ribs, I could not ask him to ease up. The world felt right the moment he hugged me. Like the years had not passed without me.
I noticed he smelled like the sea. Salt water and open sky, with just a trace of the smell of the wood the ships were made of. If I had to guess, he spent a lot of time in Driftmark now, preparing himself for when Grandsire Corlys was no longer able to hold the Driftwood Throne. When he was little and we suffered the loss of both Ser Harwin and our Aunt Laena, he feared becoming Lord of Driftmark as he knew the death that would precede that moment. If he had been able to move past that fear, I was grateful.
“Are you a sailor now?” I asked as I pulled back from him.
“Only sometimes. Grandsire has spent two years teaching me how to,” he answered. He had a shy, goofy little smile on his face.
“And I would imagine he regales you with stories of the Velaryon blood ruling the seas every moment of it,” I joked.
“Would he be him if he weren’t the proudest man alive?” he asked.
My three Velaryon brothers and Mother all chuckled at that. Genuinely speaking I could not think of a prouder man alive. Our grandfather had held House Velaryon miles above any house, including Targaryens. I think it was because the Targaryens were dragonlords making him think we were handed power, whereas Velaryons seemed to build everything themselves. There was a pride to be held in that, of course. But Westeros was not conquered by shipmasters, now was it?
With this laughter, I took a moment to look around, turning around the room, and settling to look at Joffrey. Fourteen certainly was not the age of a man but compared to the nine year old I left behind he might as well have been. My little Joffrey, whose birth was the first I truly remember, making the three of us older ones so excited. We were downright annoying when it came to him.
Jace had decided we needed to pick the egg for him ourselves. Without uttering a word to anyone, we snuck away from the dragonkeeper charged in teaching us our lesson that day and delved far into the Dragonpit. Luke excitedly picked the egg from one of Syrax’s clutches. As the three of us had been given one, with only mine not hatching, we had to give the baby an egg that came from Mother’s dragon. Our father found us as we were trying to carry the red hot cauldron to the Keep. With his help, and the enlisted help of a few keepers, we awaited the arrival of the baby eagerly.
We took turns stoking the flames underneath it to keep it warm while we waited for Mother. And when she returned, followed closely by Laenor with the baby boy in hand, Luke and Jace both desperately wanted to get close to him. Laenor and father had to practically bat them away so that our baby brother could meet our father.
For myself, I can only remember looking at my perfect family. While in that moment I had not been told the truth of my birth, I knew. It was not so much a moment of realization that none of my brothers or I looked like Laenor, instead favoring Mother’s sworn shield. It was not even hearing the rumors and embodying them as a sort of self fulfilling prophecy. No, all it took was me seeing how Laenor yielded in that moment to Harwin and seeing the way this mountain of a man became so soft when gazing upon Joffrey for me to know. He was a man who was granted love in undeniable ways and he was a part of our family.
Joffrey looked the most like our father. The four of us all had his hair color and his complexion, of course. Jace and I got his eyes, according to Mother, and I could agree. The colors were the same on all four of us, yet we got the shape. I could see on Jace the little crinkles in the corners that our father had. Luke had his smile to the point that when our father died, I desperately worked to make Luke smile for days so that I could feel the embrace of the man who created me. Yet Joffrey had it all. His eyes, his nose, his smile, even the height and bulk of him. There were traces of Mother, like in the angles of his jawline or the placement of his cheekbones. But one could be forgiven if they thought Harwin Strong walked the halls of the Red Keep again when seeing Joffrey.
How cruelly ironic. The one who only got a few meetings with our father was the one who looked to be a trueborn Strong and not the dirty little secret I always felt like. The one who would never know our father or Laenor and the way they both loved us, who was robbed of the perfect family I loved so much, was everything I begged to be. A perfect embodiment of the father I prayed returned to me sat before me in the form of the last of his children.
“Joffrey, I believe Y/N would appreciate if you could come closer,” Aemond’s voice said from somewhere out of my view. I believed he may be behind me, with Jaehaera on my left and Luke still to my right. I could not be bothered to check.
Joffrey nodded and placed the sweet down on a nearby table before walking closer to me. He wiped his hands against his pants, highlighting to me that he was wearing Targaryen colors of black and not Velaryon ones. I could see the crumbs fall to the floor as he walked. It was almost enough to make me laugh.
“Have you been so short your entire life?” he asked when he stood in front of me. He was taller than Aemond even, wider around the middle, broader along the shoulders than Jace. It was terrifying when one realized most of that was probably muscle, and most likely he had more growing to do.
“I would like to point out I am perfectly normal height,” I said, huffing a bit. “You are just tall.”
“To you. To me, you are short. Perspective, sissy,” he said.
My heart caught in my throat. It wasn’t that I had anticipated him to forget me or all the time I had spent teaching him of the world. But hearing him call me sissy and confirming that I still had a place in his heart made my own ache in unexpected ways.
Wrapping my arms around his middle, I pulled him into a tight hug. It was a hug he returned eagerly, holding me as tight as I held him. Just as with Luke, I couldn’t be bothered to care about any of the pain coursing through my body.
Luke and Joffrey had so much of me in them. Luke was my baby and Joffrey was my sidekick. Where one clung to me the other did just the same. For the longest time you could not find me without them. I did everything for them to ensure their lives. Luke and I spent hours just standing on the deck of our ship so that I could help him overcome his fear of the sea. I was the one who taught Joffrey to read, and then taught him as much as I could of politics and history. Both of them spent so much time with me in the gardens of Dragonstone as I tended to the flowers.
When I finally convinced myself that I could let go without him disappearing, I pulled away from his hold. Concern drew itself onto his face. If the empty yet extraordinarily heavy feeling in my head and the fire spreading through my chest had caused me to look as I felt in this moment, I would imagine I’d look much the same as he did. In truth I could not care to look at everyone else. Leaning forward to lean against Joffrey, I tried to steady my breathing.
“Let’s sit you down,” Luke whispered from behind me. I can only assume I nodded as he and Joffrey both supported me to sit me in the chair between Alicent and Mother. The last note of music that filled the room just moments ago echoed from every wall before the room fell into silence.
“Y/N, you mustn’t overdo it, sweet girl,” Mother said quietly, pressing a cooled rag to my head.
“I couldn’t tell them to stop, mama. My babies still love me,” I whispered to her, gripping her wrist to still her hand. The suddenness of my movement caused me a blinding flash of burning pain.
“Perhaps we should order some milk of the poppy,” Alicent suggested, looking between Mother and me.
“No, no,” I begged her, tears springing to my eyes.
Let me be clear and say I understand the benefits of the medicine. It is extremely effective in easing pain and in large enough quantities, could incapacitate an entire Dothraki horde. Though I dare anyone to watch their grandfather wither to be but a living, skin covered skeleton and he can’t even acknowledge his breathing because he is so addled by the shit.
I am not stupid enough to think back on his life and legacy and think him a good King nor even a good father. But I do know, factually know, that he was a man who loved his family dearly. A man who was taken advantage of in his deepest grief and never fixed the mistakes made in those times. A man who deserved more than to die so slowly while his brain, his very capable and beautiful brain, wasted away because of the only treatment for his pain.
When you watch a man go from being able to tell you about the Kingdom he loves, that one day you will rule, to not even being able to remember your existence, it changes things. When you watch him become so frail and thin that being turned the wrong way breaks his bones, yet remain so puffy under the eye and in his fingertips because of the poison, you may refuse it too. His younger children may not have cared, of that I will not speak on. But I cared, and it terrified me.
Would he have been in so much pain constantly if he hadn’t taken it so regularly? What if he was being treated for an ailment that was caused by milk of the poppy? And if that was true, how much would it take before I could not exist without it?
“Y/N, you cannot live in this pain,” Mother said to me.
“I cannot live like that,” I corrected her.
“Your grandsire was very sick for a long time, you will heal in mere weeks. But you cannot heal if you live in this pain,” Alicent said. Her voice was just as quiet and soothing as Mother’s as she petted my hair.
Very slowly, I adjusted my body in my chair to look to Aegon. He was watching me with silent tears in his eyes. But when our wet gazes locked together he understood what I needed. He did not need anything else from me. He understood my pain as I did his.
After pushing himself to a stand from his seat, he wasted no time in getting to my side. All the while he was reaching in his sleeve to pull out the pouch with the biscuits. Within a moment he was by my side, kneeling to be able to look up at my face.
“Stars?” he asked me. It took me less than half a breath to know he was asking how severe my pain, if it was enough to make me see stars. He knew it went beyond feeling knives in my body but he could not tell further.
“Lightning,” I muttered to him.
He had once theorized the lightning that extended from the sky during the worst of storms would be the most painful thing to be hit by. It was on a late night adventure, one that quickly turned into a two day adventure, that he had dragged me on not long before I had Vhaela. We mounted Sunfyre together and flew to Harrenhal. Quick enough flying on Sunfyre, though it took nearly all night. When we had arrived, a storm had come overhead, and we watched as lightning struck the large castle no less than three times. The stone was surprisingly mostly unscathed, save for the burn marks permanently etched on its side. When we spoke of a human withstanding just one strike, he said you’d nearly die from the pain alone.
It was how I knew he would understand. This was not the pain I experienced falling from my bed when I was six. This was a burning, pulsating pain that caused me to lose parts of my sight. A pain so severe I could not breathe properly.
He helped me eat a significant bit more than what I had earlier. Mainly because every time I moved myself I was hit with another flash of pain. It was just easier to allow his help.
“The larger portion may not quicken the effects but it will help manage your pain better,” he said quietly to me. “Tell me what I can do in the meanwhile.”
“Stay right here and have everyone return to their joy,” I whispered to him as I took his hand. “At the least I wish to see everyone smile.”
He nodded softly and looked to Alicent. Within a few minutes, the music started back up and not long after that the chatter started up again. I would have to be oblivious to not notice the worried looks Mother and Alicent still gave me. Though those looks were nothing compared to the way Aemond and Jace were glaring at Aegon.
Genuinely speaking, it was a lot like watching children. It was as though Aemond and Jace had never once considered that anyone else would want to play their game. They only considered each other and knew what to expect from them. But now they viewed Aegon as a competitor.
Was Aegon a competitor? Sure he had said earlier how he loved me, that I was the only woman he loved. But he did not put his hand forward. He did not express a desire to be with me despite the love he held for me. I could no more count him as a contender for my heart as I could Ser Erryk.
Where Aemond and Jace looked on at him in anger, Aegon paid no mind. His eyes were focused solely on me. And every time I met his gaze, I gave him a small squeeze in the hand.
Six songs passed before I felt any relief. At first it wasn’t noticed until I could take a full breath. It was when I turned my head to watch as the food was brought in that it became clear that I could now manage. It seemed it became clear to Aegon, too, as he left my side and took his place back across from Luke.
Luke, Jace, and Aegon took the seats on the end of the table nearest the windows. Luke and Aegon on the very end, Jace beside Aegon. Joffrey took a spot next to Luke. Then beside Joffrey sat Aemond, and beside Jace there was Helaena. Next to Aemond was Alicent, with Jaehaera across from her. Then you had me and I was sat across from Jaehaerys. To my right was Mother, and across from her sat Maelor. There was two empty seats on Mother’s other side, and across from them was Little Aegon and Viserys. Then a singular chair that looked down the whole of the table sat on the very end, also empty, and that was closest to the kitchen.
Alicent lead us all in prayer. Truthfully, I probably should’ve paid more mind to the words she was saying. It mattered a lot to her, Helaena, and even Aemond. Yet, when I looked down the table and saw Aegon watching my every move, every thought from my head left. So instead, I looked directly at my plate.
The juices that flowed from the goose glistened in the candlelight that danced against every surface in stunning opposition to how the dark gravy absorbed light. The cabbage and roasted chestnuts sat to the side of it, looking decently appealing on their own. There was a basket of bread placed down for every four people. All of the adults, save Aegon and I, had a large cup of wine sitting in front of them. If Aegon and the children had the same as me, we all had water. Once Alicent was done saying her prayers, the only sound to be heard was all of us eating our food.
It was delicious. Though it was not a surprise to me, as the cooks here in King’s Landing had always been phenomenal. Maybe it was the fuzziness in my head that made it more apparent. Yet, it seemed more complex than normal. The meat was almost sweeter, the gravy with a level of saltiness that counteracted it perfectly. The chestnuts were almost like velvet in my mouth, creating a feeling akin to butter. Even cabbage, that I normally did not like, was something I would pick again and again.
“Did you try to come back?” A small voice asked. I looked up, only to see Viserys staring at me.
“Viserys,” Mother said firmly. It was her warning tone. Perhaps she did not think it proper for him to question me.
“I can’t remember,” I said quietly. “But I cannot imagine a reality in which I did not fight to return back to you all.”
“Is that why you are all beat up?” Little Aegon asked me.
“Aegon,” Mother said with the same firmness. I reached to take her hand in mine and gave it a small squeeze. She needed to understand that they were allowed to ask me, I could not fault them for being confused.
“Possibly. But I do not remember,” I told him.
“Do you remember anything?” they both asked at the same time.
“Not from when I was gone, no,” I whispered. “But I remember before I was gone. I remember loving the two of you so much. I am sorry I disappeared, and I am sorry that you both grew up without me.”
All of that was mostly true. I hated my disappearance, as it did take me away from everyone I loved. Yet to say I do not remember anything from the time I was gone may not be true.
In my thoughts, I could wade through the fog that the biscuit causes. Only in this feeling did I get any information from my brain. When I tried desperately to remember the last five years, there were only two things that my mind could conjure up. A glowing vial of shimmering red fire that I am near certain was a potion swirled in and out of my mind’s eye. And there was a distinct feeling loneliness, of knowing that where I existed was not where I belonged.
The shade of red of the potion was eerily familiar. While equating it to fire would be the right way to imagine the way that the liquid flowed, it was poor in grasping the color. One could tell me that someone was able to melt rubies into this vial and I would believe them. That was the only physical thing that was colored correctly.
Until I could explain more or had more answers, I would not say anything. With how desperate Mother and Aemond were for vengeance, giving them half answers could cause more damage that it would repair. It was not worth it.
“Do you want to come to our dragon lessons tomorrow?” Little Aegon asked.
Unable to verbalize my answer, I nodded. Spending time with my two littlest brothers felt like exactly what I needed. They may not be quite sure about me at all, but they were willing to give me a chance. I suppose that is all I could ask for.
The sound of a chair scraping against the stone floor brought my attention to the left side of the table. Aemond stood with his cup raised. My jaw tightened. The last time he gave a toast, he managed to call my brothers bastards while ignoring that it meant I too was a bastard. It caused a fight to break out, with Jace punching Aemond and Aegon slamming Luke into the table. I was not wanting a repeat and I doubt anyone else did.
“A toast,” Aemond said. “To the return of Ali. The Keep had truly existed in a darkness without you.”
A heat rose to my cheeks with his words. It was tame, I suppose, with what he could say. Although, I do wish he would just have not brought any further attention to me. I don’t think I would be able to say anything to him though.
“I wish to take this moment to make it clear,” he said. As always there was a confidence he held that I couldn’t shake. “Byka zaldrīzes, no longer do I wish to hide my affections. It is here and now that I am declaring my intention to marry you.”
My heart started skipping beats. While he had said it aloud to me, he had not voiced it to anyone else. And it wasn’t entirely like it was a secret, as he had always been rather obvious. With this declaration there was no longer a doubt about where I stood with him.
Jace stood up quickly, slamming his hands on the table as he did so. “She is my twin, Aemond, my betrothed. You do not get to decide such a thing,” he said angrily.
Aegon grabbed Jace’s shoulder and pulled him back into a sitting position. I was aware of Aemond smirking as he watched Jace. Leave it to him to make this a little game, a game which he is certain he will win.
“It is not your decision, either,” Aegon told him as though he were spitting poison at him. My jaw dropped slightly. It was not usual that I saw him actually angry.
“And you think you get any say?” Aemond asked his older brother.
“I think the two of you are so focused on this pissing contest that’s been going on since we were children you fail to realize that she is hurt,” Aegon shouted, standing up. Despite being shorter than Aemond and not as broad as Jace, he somehow made himself look larger. He made himself an unmoving force.
“I better than anyone know that she is hurt,” Aemond said darkly, to which Jace voiced the same sentiment.
“Are you both so truly lost in your desires that you are ignoring the anguish she is in? She caused herself so much pain she was barely conscious just so she could feel as though she still has a place! Do not pretend this is about anyone other than the two of you,” Aegon shouted.
“And what of you? What is your plan, dear brother?” Aemond asked, moving himself to appear larger.
The difference between them in this moment was fascinating. Aemond wanted to prove his dominance. He felt he had some claim to me just because of the love he and I share. With Aegon, though, it was because he wanted to prove nothing more than he was capable of protecting me.
Aegon turned to look at me. I could see him ease up almost immediately. It was like just the sight of me was enough to calm him.
“I am here however you choose to have me,” he said softly, addressing me directly.
#dividers by benkeibear#aegon targaryen ii#out of time#jacaerys velaryon#aemond targaryen#hotd#aegon targaryen ii x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader#house of the dragon
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