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love-bitesx · 10 months

Note

I loveeeedd the last story Tysm ❤️❤️❤️ Keep up the amazing work 🌈

I have another request

Hobie x fem spider reader

Reader has a weird stalker ex-bf, and the reader tries to keep it a secret from Hobie but he finds out and deals with the ex.

: ̗̀➛ STALKER. hobie brown x fem!reader

any criminal minds fans out there … i hope u see the parallels of my baby spencer also i'm so sorry, i didn't see until after i wrote this entire thing that you said 'fem spider reader' so it's a fem normal reader, so sorry! i hope it's still okay, tho!! thank u sm for ur support angel !! summary: hobie & y/n have been doing long distance for months, but she never told him exactly why. words: 2.8k (the words just kept coming, sorry its so long lmao) warnings: fem!reader, pronouns not really used but "my girl", "lady", etc. are, read at your own risk! weird stalker bf, creepy fella, hobie n y/n are long distance, very very soft hobie

“when can i call you next, darlin’?” hobie’s voice was laced with longing, bass distorted by static at the other end of the phone.

“if you’re quick, we can call tomorrow after 5,” you smiled, and if you were in an 80’s romcom, you’d be twisting the phone cord between your fingers.

“5pm it is, don’t be late,” you can hear his smirk, and a bolt of guilt strikes your chest.

“look, i need to ask something, and i think i already know the answer,” hobie speaks, and you bite your lip in anticipation, “the band and i are playing at a new venue tomorrow, it’s the biggest we’ve played, we’re all dead excited, and…”

a sigh.

“well, it won’t feel the same without you there, pretty.”

if the first bolt wasn’t enough, then the second one lived up to it, striking you into the dead center of your heart. it had been well over 6 months since you met hobie. well, “met”. you’d accidentally called the wrong number one day, meaning to contact a friend of a friend, but typing the last number wrong. picking up at the other end was a deep, almost mesmerising voice, telling you; “no bother, darlin’. it happens, just make sure not to lose this number, wanna hear more from ya.”

“hobie, you know i can’t,” your voice is brimming with remorse and you look to the ground.

“i know, shit with your parents, i get it," he tried hard to hide the disappointment, but his heart twanged with neglect and it creeped through into his words.

parents. strict, all-demanding 'parents'. that's what you told hobie when you first started dating, that the reason you aren't able to see him was because your mother was overbearing and extremely protective – it was a lie. a lie that was eating you up from the inside out. the truth was slightly more grim, however.

years ago, you got involved with a guy at work. a couple brief conversations turned into dates, and dates turned into anniversaries, anniversaries turned into toxic, violent arguments and after a long time of dating, you broke up with him. to say he took it badly, was a criminal understatement. threatening phone calls, showing up at your work, sending you gifts and menacing letters – his signature move was scaring off, and even once harming, any man or potential love interest that you interacted with. it was exhausting, and terrifying.

and hobie was different. he was sweet and kind, but rough around the edges, and his voice dripped in passion no matter the topic of conversation. his promises were never empty, and most importantly – he loved you. and you loved him. the last thing you wanted, was your ex to pop up and scare him off, so you kept it from him. limiting your relationship to phone calls at arranged times incase your ex was keeping tabs.

“i’m sorry, hobie,” is all you could muster, not even scratching the tip of the catastrophic iceberg that wedged the back of your throat.

“it’s okay, darlin’, don’t worry that pretty little head over it,” and just like every phone call, you melted into his words, “i love you, yeah? i’ll call you tomorrow at 5.”

“i’ll be waiting,” you smiled, cheeks flushed at his gentle affirmations, “i love you.”

with a ruckus of movement, and what sounded like a kiss, the call ended, and you stared at the screen silently for a moment. not much longer could you avoid it, and the malten bubble of dread spilled into your gut.

sending him a quick text:

‘good luck tomorrow, handsome. what’s the venue called again? you’ll do amazing x’

you turned off your phone, discarding it on the bed as you climbed into the hole of guilt you’d dug yourself.

“oi, you ready, blud?” hobie’s band mate yelled above the bustle and cheers from the crowd before them. large, bejewelled hands poised onto his guitar strings, he smirked.

“always.”

with a nod to the roadie, the lights went up, illuminating the stage and instruments, hobie's glowing with a harsh red tint. immediately, his sepia eyes digested the crowd. seeing the flushed, excitable faces staring back at him sent a shot of confidence to his bones, and they moved, strumming the guitar with such vigor that the stage floor shook beneath his feet. cheers erupted, and yet felt oddly empty. it was missing something, and he knew what it was immediately.

he'd truly give his all to have you there, front stage in his eyeline, screaming his songs like gospel. not that he'd ever seen you properly, only seeing teasing selfies you'd sent him over the months you'd been together. he didn't care, inherently, he'd fallen head over heels for your personality; a pretty face was only just a bonus.

however, he did yearn for your touch. to feel his hands in your hair, to kiss your cheek, your nose, your neck. he longed to have you with him, even just doing stupid little tasks, having you by his side through the domestic side of life.

his gall spurred him on, his passion surging through his fingertips, spilling out into the sound waves. the audience were lapping it up, screams and chants only barely audible under the booming power of their set. song, after song, after song his talented blood seeped out onto the strings, and his feet were almost numb from the vibration of the bass.

the final song arrived, and his chest was burning, vision blurry, heart pounding against his chest – and he loved it. it was their biggest crowd, their most excitable achievement so far, and his blood pumped with adrenaline as he finished off the set, falling to his knees as he strum his guitar with one final chord. lights falling, his chest was heaving and his eyes scanned the audience one final time – you weren’t there. he had to accept that.

“that was fuckin’ sick, blud!” his bassist yelled as they exited the stage, palm slapping hobie’s shoulder blade and elicited a wide, ecstatic grin.

“you smashed it, mate,” hobie shouted back over the booming stereo that took their place.

“nah, man, you stole the show,” his bassist shook his head, patting him again in appreciation, “good that your lady’s here to see it, too, she must be proud.”

“i wish, mate,” he sighed.

“did you not see her?” his ears perked up, and at his confused expression, his bandmate continued, “over at the back, by the bar, i didn’t know what she looked like, but she was asking after you. ‘er story adds up.”

"shit," he mutters, feet solid on the ground. his heart pounds, skeptical of your presence, but chest bursting with hope that it just might be you, "look, bro, i need to–"

"go! go, man, go see her," his bandmate pushes him in the direction of the bar, and he almost stumbles over his own feet to push the stage door open, met with the chaos of the crowded bar.

dark eyes scanning the aimless faces, he searched for anyone who could look like you; his stature brought him above everyone else, only by a little, but gave him an advantage to seek you out.

"sorry, i need to get past," he repeated, over and over to unassuming bodies, setting through the chaos to find his peace. pushing out at the back, a wave of light met him, shining through empty pint glasses and illuminating the bar.

there you were.

standing quietly, head nodding along to the blasting instrumentals, drink in hand; you were heart-stopping. and he was pretty sure his did. even if he’d never seen you face-to-face, he’d memorised the soft plump of your lips, alluring light in your eyes, even the way your hair fell against your skin from the photos he'd seen. there was no doubt it was you, and my god, you were beautiful. he couldn’t even stop his legs if he tried, as they carried him over to you.

"y/n?" his voice barely travelled through the sound waves, but it hit your ear like a familiar embrace.

turning to him, eyes wide and bright in the twinkling of the bar lights. you drunk him in, warm eyes swallowing every part of him. you'd seen pictures, again, but it could never compare to him. dark brown skin, soft to its complexion, hugged his bones in every perfect way; folding at the creases of his handsome face. he was tall, very tall, and the detail of the curves and indents of his muscles, altered by the shadows of the dim bar light, made your head fuzzy. god, he was beautiful – nothing that a digital screen could ever portray with justice.

"hobie," your voice was crisper than he was used to, and he would bottle it if he could, "hey, handsome, you got a–"

"come 'ere," he interrupted, essentially scooping you into his tense embrace, melting into your scent, the feel of you in his arms. his heart was pounding against his chest. you wrapped yourself around him, running your hands along his leather jacket, ghosting the skin below it.

"you interrupted my introduction," you pouted against his shoulder, "had a whole little joke planned and everything, you know."

"go on, hit me, love," he pulled back a tiny bit, his arms still glued around your waist, looking down through his lashes. you faltered under his intense gaze, giddy smile bursting onto your face and you buried your head in his chest.

"nuh uh, not anymore," you shook your head against him, "you ruined it."

his hand came up to touch your face whilst you spoke, following the edge of your hairline and tucking your hair around your shoulder. he was in awe, having you here, having you with him. tightening his embrace, he didn't want to let you go – ever.

"mhmm," his voice vibrated his chest, and you pulled away, "i'm sure it was hilarious, love."

"it really was," you chuckled, giddy in his presence.

the air grew thicker, your laughter dying out and left with just his strong gaze, his dark brown eyes following yours. you could barely comprehend him being here, in front of you, around you, and he was so much more than you had imagined. feeling his calloused hand caress your cheek, you leaned into his touch, inviting him into your world. cupping your face, hobie bought himself to you, leaning down until his pierced lips were ghosting your own. months he'd dreamed of this, imagined how it would feel to kiss his girl, to taste your lips and feel your love. he could feel your breath, and you were about to give in, until you pulled away.

"wait, i–" you swallowed thickly, pulling your touch from him.

"what's up, darlin'?" his eyes scanned your face for any sign of reason, "did i do somethin'?"

"no! no, you," you sighed, "you're perfect, it's not you."

he'd be lying through his teeth if he denied the pit of anxiety building deep in his stomach, bubbling up his throat.

"what is it?"

"i–" you stuttered again, and fought to get your words out of your brain and into the thick air of the bar, "i haven't been telling you the truth."

silence. just for a second. hobie's brain working over time.

"look, if you've got another fella, or somethin', just get it over with–"

"no! no, hobie, i'm yours, i promise," your words settled him for a second.

"my parents don't care about us, they aren't strict, in fact, they were happy when i told them about you," you begun, opening the dam.

"they know about me?" his voice was smaller than you were used to, and if your brain had a spare synapse to process it, you'd probably have melted.

"yes, and i'm sorry i haven't told you," you avoided his eyes, "it's my ex."

"oh, fuckin' 'ell," he sighed, dropping his arms to his side, and he's about to speak, until you interrupt.

"we broke up years ago, but he's never left me alone," you ring your wrists with your hands nervously, and hobie notices – you looked terrified, "i've tried everything; i've tried the police, i've moved countless times, i've changed jobs, made new friends, met new people – he won't leave me be."

tears welled up now, and his heart reached for you, but his arms stayed stuck by his side.

"every guy that i meet, he's, i don't know, calling them telling them i'm someone i'm not, or following them home and slashing tires, or roughing them up outside pubs," paranoia enveloped you, and your eyes darting around the crowd, "i was so scared, because you're the best i've ever had, and probably will ever have, and i don't want him to scare you off."

"y/n–"

"and i understand if this has done exactly what i'm scared of, because i get that keeping it from you was awful, but i was only trying to protect you and–"

his lips cut you off, warm against your own, capturing your words and pushing them back down your throat. hands on your cheeks, body flush against your own, you melted into him completely. it felt like heaven, like months of tension and longing unravelling like ribbon into the wind. it was safe, gentle, like a promise – a promise that it didn't scare him, and that he was yours.

"is he here?" his voice was low, lips hovering yours.

"i-i don't know," you were flustered, your brain trying to make sense of it all, but his hand on the small of your back stopped any cognitive thoughts, "i haven't seen him."

watching him, hobie's dark eyes floated around the crowd, before falling back onto you. smirk on his lips, he placed a quick peck onto your cheek.

"hmm, i hope he enjoyed the show," he chuckled lowly, and you couldn't help but mimic it, relief flooding off your shoulders, "how about we go somewhere a bit safer?"

"like where?" you questioned, intrigued by the coaxing tone of his voice.

"well, i only live around the corner," he shrugged, before offering his hand. blushing, you slipped your hand into his, the soft skin of his fingers pulling you towards him, until he threw his arm around your shoulder.

"nothing could scare me off, you know," he whispered, placing a kiss to your hair, "i'm 'ard as nails."

"oh yeah?" you giggled.

"mhmm."

clothed eyes glued to the suspicious figure, hobie stood on a rooftop, footsteps silent as he follows the man below. tailing him through the cobbled back lanes of london, hobie's back tingled with apprehension – he'd been following him for at least a mile, waiting for a perfect opportunity.

and he'd finally found it.

pausing his heavy stroll, the man dug into his pockets and pulled out a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes, fumbling further for a lighter. a small orange glow lit up the air around him as he puffed away, smoke fluttering to meet hobie's nose.

silently, hobie swung to a platform below, pulling his guitar tighter against his back and dropped to the hard ground. the sound of his leather boots colliding with the cobble made the man turn in his direction, eyes wide at the sight.

"spiderman?" the man breathed between puffs, voice hoarse, "can i help you?"

"you know what, i think you can," hobie strutted, hands stuffed into his leather jacket, lanky stance towering him, "are you y/n's ex fella?"

"who's asking?" he questioned stupidly, and hobie let out a laugh.

"bruv, who's– are you stupid or somethin'?" hobie punched him lightly in the shoulder, "do you not see the whole get up?"

"the fuck have you got to do with y/n?" he spat, defensive stance taking over his body.

"none of your business," hobie knew that would sting, "but you're gonna leave her alone, fella."

"you don't know what you're talking about."

"i'm not askin', mate," hobie stepped closer, "and i'm not givin' you a choice."

before he could even utter a response, hobie had swung his spike-studded arm in his direction, knuckles colliding against the pathetic man's jaw, knocking him to the ground below.

"tha's my girl you're messin' with now."

#hobie brown #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie #hobie my beloved #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #across the spiderverse #hobie x you #across the spider verse spoilers

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randomdragonfires · 26 days

Text

I'm A Fire And I'll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm [One Shot]

Text Divider by @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY | Flowers come to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage.

WARNINGS | 18+; Mild Smut.

WORD COUNT | 9.6k

A/N | Yet another repost, yay! This one was written based off an ask sent to me by @wonderbias and beta read by the loml @humanpurposes

Their union began as a fragile, delicate one.

By all accounts, Aemond Targaryen was a fine man that any maiden in the Seven Kingdoms would be proud to be with, should he– a skilled dragonrider, a scholar, a respectful man of honor, a prince worthy of his name and blood– choose to take her to wife.

If only he was not so stoic and dull, they said. The very jovial little lady of Highgarden will be bored of him in moments!

‘Twas the first of many whispers he heard of his apparent inadequacy with regards to his impending nuptials and marriage, and even though it killed him, he could not bring himself to disagree. The woman that he was to marry – the beautiful, kind, ladylike wisp of a girl that was to be entrusted to him– was a fair maiden who lit up any chamber she graced with her presence, a stark contrast to how he seemed to darken those that he stalked into.

Charming girl like that, she will hate him, they said. The poor thing is probably scared.

Every lady dreamed of chivalrous knights and charming princes, and Aemond knew very well that he was far from being either. They dreamed of charming men who would immortalize them in song, whose looks could thaw the hearts of the coldest women in an instant. Aemond knew very well that the Gods had refused him the chance to even try with her– what with their allowance of his mutilation at a tender, young age.

Even with just one eye, he saw many possibilities but to his dismay, he did not imagine any outcome would be favorable to him. With the scar he carried on his face and the weight of the world on his shoulders, Aemond was never meant to be the man that his intended deserved.

And so, he decided that he would keep her at arm's length and in consequence, save his pride. He'd reject her before she rejected him. He may not know it now, but matters of the heart are fickle– and to the utter disappointment of his pride, his little lady rose was very easy to love.

He would not be caught dead pathetically pining after a woman who would soon be his. He would not.

And so, their courtship remained devoid of romance and scandal. His family was made privy to each of their highly appropriate conversations, with them taking turns in chaperoning their walks through the gardens.

There was nothing that he wished to share, for he did not want to lose too much. He did what was expected of him, and she did the very same. Soon, there was respect, admiration, and a whole host of burgeoning feelings that Aemond tried hard to suppress - feelings that he clearly did not see in her eyes as she dared to look into his.

How could she feel anything for a stoic, dull, one-eyed man like him?

As he draped the red and black cloak over her shoulder and pledged to be her man of liege and limb, he told himself that he would not try. He would not give into fantasies, only to be met with rejection from a woman who was too good for him; one that may realize it soon enough as well.

After all, Aemond Targaryen had his pride. He would feed himself to the dragons before admitting to someone else being better than him, let alone be rejected by that same person. He was certainly not going to woo her, not when he knew that he would only be met with contempt and disgust.

It did not matter how badly he wanted to. He would not allow himself to succumb to such idyllic daydreams. He would not.

When night fell and the wedding feast was in full swing, his new good-father was the only one who could give his brother a run for his money with how deep he was in his cups. It was obvious how the wine-induced stupor affected the fat lord Tyrell as he bellowed for his daughter and his new good son to take the lead and join in the dancing and merriment.

Aemond was ready to retch at the thought, but what stopped him from making his irritation clear was the possibility that she may want to dance. His wife. He had seen her dance before– as graceful as an otherworldly swan. She had a better grasp at frivolous courtly affairs than he did.

His wife may want to dance. His wife, his wife, his wife. A little rose, his.

He shuffled his feet under the cloth-covered long table and allowed his one eye to train over his clothed boots. In spite of all the dancing lessons he had taken with Helaena, Aemond had never indulged before– and now, he was expected to entertain his bride each time a song played. The thought made him want to press his feet into the ground further than he already has, in hopes that perhaps the ground would swallow him whole.

His view of the dancing crowd had been taken from him by half along with his eye. Without the luxury of complete vision, he could not dance without bumping into everyone that was on his blind side. Now, he would have to– if she wanted to.

He thought he could say no, but he feared that if he were to look her in the eyes, he'd never be able to. Perhaps that was why he had refused to even look at her throughout the ceremony, despite her many admirable– yet failed– attempts to catch his line of sight and share a smile.

It was her meek, mouse-like voice that brought him out of his nervous trance. “We do not have to," she said, the words falling out of her lips like a song.

“You like to dance, my lady,” he said.

“But you do not, my prince. It takes two.” Her surprisingly understanding words were followed by a timid smile, one that threatened to rip through his defenses and get to him.

In the crowded throne room, as his new bride sets aside her happiness to accommodate his preferences, Aemond worried that his self-imposed distance from her may not last too long if she kept offering him kind glances and sweet smiles– no matter how forced and dutiful he knew them to be.

He had much to lose; his pride, his heart. He would not risk it, even if she was seemingly easy to love. He would not. He would not. He would not.

After all, Aemond Targaryen had his pride.

Soon after, her drunk nuisance of a father had called for the bedding. Aemond did nothing as his trembling bride was ushered away by the handmaidens and ladies, each of them wriggling her jewelry off as she stumbled in her steps before they carried her off.

Should he have asked for a private bedding? In hindsight, he believed he wronged her by throwing her to the mercies of the court in her vulnerability. Equally, he did not want to attempt a show of compassion– not when she may not even welcome it from the one-eyed fiend of a husband that she was stuck with.

When he walked into the chambers in his loose linen shirt and breeches, his breath hitched in his throat. Helaena had once told him that the Septas refer to women’s maidenheads as flowers. “Beautiful, ripe and ready for the plucking,” she had said, keeping her nose pointed upward in her imitations. He'd never given the words much thought.

Until now.

There she was. His wife, his flower, his rose, ready for plucking, in her translucent white shift and now untamed hair, like a fae in a dream. How could she possibly be his? How could she possibly be happy with a man as monstrous as him for a husband?

Her eyes, wide and fearful, flittered about his face, in his mind an expression of her repulsion. It pained him to think she did not even give him a chance.

But she was accommodating about my not wanting to dance…

Perhaps she did like to dance; just not with him.

These unsaid words and subsequent misunderstandings plagued their wedding night. Both believed the other did not desire them.

That night, she offered her flower to him– as is her duty– and he took great care in taking it from her. He made sure she was pliant, so that when he took it, she would be as glad and thrilled as he was, regardless of how well-hidden his happiness was.

He may have grimaced in disgust at Aegon's vulgar demonstrations and lessons about the pleasures of the marital bed, but he was thankful as he heard her moan out his name in a silent scream while she convulsed around his fingers. The silent sounds of her choked out moans and the heat engulfing his fingers may have very well been enough for Aemond to find release, and he reminded himself quickly that she will not want him when they're done. How could she, deformed as he was?

And so, he stopped wanting to be good for her, and simply endeavored to get it done with.

She was only more than willing to allow him to take her flower. If he was not so preoccupied with his own insecurities, he may have seen that it had gone past duty for her. Her loud moans proved the fact, and left little room for dispute (or doubt, in the minds of the prying ears that stayed close to the doors of their chambers, and the sharp eyes of the council who were now shuffling out of their seats).

He inched into her, and her tears and turned face only seemed to make it harder for him. Was he so beyond hope that she could not even look? What was it? Had he hurt her? He did not ask, lest he risk finding out that he was a disappointment. So he lost himself, drowned in his own head as he mechanically moved in and out, in and out, in and out.

Duty. Duty. Duty.

If he had not been so preoccupied with tearing his own being to shreds in his mind, he may have heard her moans as the bright pink tip of his cock hit a rough spot in her, allowing her pleasures and experiences she did not believe she would ever know. He may have known that she desired him, just as he did her.

His self-deprecating thoughts couldn't have been farther from the truth– he may not have realized it that night, but he would soon enough.

Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the first ever flower she gave him– whether she chose to see it that way or not– came to him on their wedding night, in the form of her maidenhead.

Tourneys were a time of celebration for her.

There was something to be said about the romance of watching men ask women for favors and fight with all the might and grace that they possess. She had often dreamed that a dashing knight or a courteous prince would perhaps approach her for her favor, and then perhaps crown her Queen of Love and Beauty. If she was lucky, the man would court her too.

The man she married was the antithesis of all that she hoped a tourney would bring.

Her husband was not a bad man by any means– no. He was a good and respectful husband, slightly removed and isolated for her outward nature, but she did not mind. There were worse men to be married to, and even if he never went out of his way to be there for her, he certainly treated her well when they were in each other’s presence.

She tried with him, Gods bless her.

She would try to catch his eye at the supper table, or watch him train in hopes that he would meet her watchful gaze once or twice. She would watch in a sleepy haze as he woke early in the morn, long before she had the strength or consciousness to wish him a good day, hoping he would turn to do the same. He never did.

More often than not, a curt nod and a wavering glance was all she’d get. Still there were brief, hopeful moments that kept her active in her pursuit to build a friendship with her husband.

She would have done something absolutely obnoxious— acts that would have him sneering if it was someone else– and she’d see it. That little hint of a smile, waiting to bubble through the surface, just by the corner of his pink lips, that she would have missed if she blinked. Each time there was a tenuous beginning of a hesitant smile, she felt a tiny sliver of hope.

He was not so intimidating to her now as he was in the initial days of their union– no. In a little corner of her mind, she acknowledged that fact– that is what helped her find his hand and hold it tight in nervousness, before she could even comprehend the intimacy of the act.

The knight who had just taken a harsh tumble from his horse was carried away by servants, with his head beaten bloody and hands hanging limp by his side. If she did not know better, she would have thought him dead.

The champion then raised his hands up in victory. Thunderous clapping sounds overshadowed all else around her, but she could not bring herself to join. She was still stunned by how the other knight had fallen, and was yet to let go of Aemond’s hand.

She felt the bile rise in her throat, so she brought her other hand to her chest and bowed her head down, a feeble attempt at keeping the vomit at bay. It was awhile until she managed to catch her breath again, and by then the celebrations had moved on from celebrating the champion to the crowning of his Queen of Love and Beauty.

The eldest Lady Baratheon smiled coyly as she received the wreath of winter roses, followed by a chaste kiss to her cheek. The crowd gasped at how brazen the act was, with neither of them being married, but the high of winning makes men do the most peculiar things, she supposed. In the back of her mind, regardless of how uneasy she felt, she wished– desperately.

How she wished it was her.

A childish fantasy really. What was a publicly gifted crown of flowers worth in the face of what she had? She was a Princess of the realm now, married to a skilled dragonrider from a family of illustrious history and blood. Any children they may have will be immortalized in the annals. Nothing. A crown of flowers was worth nothing when compared to what she had– or at least, that is what she would tell herself.

And yet, she craved the romance. She had always enjoyed the idea of being loved and cherished. Her husband respected her, and if she was feeling bold, she’d say he liked her– but he certainly did not love her. That much she was certain of. When she naively wished that he’d crown her, she asked if he was going to enter the lists. He had sharply turned so quickly that she feared she had angered him.

“I don’t give a sh…” He had sighed before speaking again, as though he felt tested. “I do not care for tourneys.” The sharpness in his voice had hurt her, and she did not speak of it again.

Their marriage was a decent one– but it held none of the love she hoped to have, despite all her attempts.

Did he find her so disagreeable?

All of a sudden, his hand felt cold to the touch and she let go of him like he burned her. The heat came back to her hand just as it showed on her cheeks, and his had turned cold from having lost her touch so abruptly.

“I’d like to get some fresh air, husband,” she said, and rose before he could even ask if she needed him to accompany her.

Her quick walk took her to the tent where the court ladies had been sitting, and she had stepped in right in time to hear them gossip– about her husband.

“Well he must keep it on while they… you know! It can be jarring to look at, I’m sure it is!”

“It must be terrible to see it up close all the time. I can hardly look at him from across the chamber!”

He is certainly unnerving. It does make you wonder though, do you think they actually…” the woman lowered her voice to match the vulgarity that was to follow. “Do you think they actually fuck? She cannot possibly want to, and she is not with child either…”

“Well, does it really matter if she wants to? He’s a Prince, and her husband. He’ll take his pleasure regardless.”

Regardless of where she and her husband stood, she would not stand for their marriage to become fodder for court gossip. If she stayed quiet for any longer while these empty-headed women berated her husband, she would be insulting him herself.

“Might I ask what is so amusing?” she said with sharp eyes and a tilted head. The sweat on their faces upon her arrival was apparent, and so was their nervousness.

“My Lady, we were just–”

“Princess,” she corrected.

“Yes of course, Princess. We were just–”

“Making presumptions about my marriage?”

“No… we just…”

“Don’t deny it,” she seethed, anger looking completely foreign on a soft, comely face like hers. Her nostrils flared and her nose went red in her current state, but there was no way she could stop now.

“The next time you feel the need to comment on such matters , perhaps you will all learn to remind yourself that he is a Prince of the realm and I am his wife! There will be suitable punishment, and you will all be dismissed from court at my pleasure, disgraced and husbandless. Now, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Her words were cutting and sharp, and they had the younger ladies bowing their heads in fear almost immediately.

“I’ll have you all know that unlike the other men of the court, Prince Aemond’s scar came to him along with the largest dragon in the world. His bravery only makes him more handsome to me.”

She then fixed her attention onto the married lady of the bunch and delivered a questionable blow that she would certainly feel bad about later. “If you’ve been led to believe that the man takes his pleasure from his wife even if she does not want to, then perhaps your marriage is a lot worse than I thought. Your husband must have no regard for your wants, unlike mine. And for that, I am truly sorry.”

She did not wait for them to respond as she gathered her skirts and walked out of the tent, feeling largely annoyed and satisfied to an extent. But as she began her walk back, the fear of news of her anger reaching her husband hit her like a harsh and heavy wave.

Would he call her insolent and disgraceful? Has she damaged her marriage more than it already has been?

She did not have to wait long for her answer, for Aemond had been just a few steps behind her, watching the entire scene unfold. The angry flush on her face left her as quickly as it had come, replaced by a skittish nervousness that led to her shuffling her feet as she stood before him, at a complete loss for words.

She swallowed the spit gathering in her mouth, throat bobbing as her head remained facing down to the floor, awaiting a scolding from him for her absolutely inexcusable behavior; her husband was a man who knew his courtesies, after all. He could not possibly be happy with how she carried herself and disappointed him.

“You do not look well. Let me walk you to our chambers,” was all he said before he led her away with a hand on the small of her back.

She remained worried that he was perhaps leading them to privacy and silence so he could punish her while being undisturbed. She could not have been farther from the truth.

She expected him to scream at her, forget all the courtesy that he had shown her and throw his words at her without care. What she was not prepared for, was for him to hold her chin between his thumb and index fingers, pulling her face up to meet his.

He curiously inspected her, almost as though her little show of anger thoroughly amused him. She would not be surprised if it did– she had never been so outward in her anger in the two months that they had been married; this was a completely new side to her that he was now privy to.

“What was that, wife?” His words were measured and cut.

“They…” She was stunned to find that, despite her tongue becoming loose in moments of anger, it was hard for her to speak right now. So, she chose to gulp once more and tried to look someplace else. The uncertainty in his sharp, one-eyed violet gaze was becoming too much for her to bear– but Aemond did not give up easily. He kept her head held in place as she desperately waited for the words to come to her.

“They were being crude, and insulting you.”

He looked at her for a moment, his sharp gaze refusing to waver as the sunlight pierced through the glass windows of their chamber. He then let go of her, and handed her a goblet of wine to calm her clearly unsteady senses. He watched as she took little sips from the chalice, the restless turning of the wheels in his mind apparent on his face.

Soon after, he made up a sham of a reason about having to leave when the cheering crowds became louder and louder. She nodded and continued to sip, completely oblivious to the change of heart that her husband was having as she wondered why he brought her back to their bed.

She did not know the thoughts that now ran fast and surely in his mind. She did not know that he thought his eye had cost him a chance at a happy marriage with her. She had no idea of knowing how conflicted he felt at the new realization, for his sculpted face gave nothing away.

He turned to face her with a hand on the door. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

She nodded and smiled meekly while he stalked back to the festivities.

He held his hands tightly behind him as he tried to make sense of how light his heart felt in comparison to the rest of him.

Back in the chamber, she blushed. For all her worry that he may have been disappointed, she had been completely floored by how he had responded– he was thankful. She berated herself for not considering the possibility– and smiled at the realization that for all her husband’s prowess as a warrior, in times like these, he needed a champion too.

That night, Aemond burned the midnight oil while reading in the library, trying to still his racing heart and make sense of how it leapt at newfound thoughts of his little wife.

Across the Holdfast, in the soft candlelight of their shared chambers, she sat on her husband’s dear chair, looking at her handiwork– an embroidered silk tourney favor, with a little rose.

Her husband may not care for tourneys, but making the favor allowed her the luxury of thinking that should the possibility of him willingly entering the lists come around, he would do so with her gift on his lance. Mayhaps he would crown her Queen of Love and Beauty too– the thought makes her blush.

She would give it to him should he ever choose to partake someday. Until then, it would be safely hidden away in her shelves, amidst her gowns and other possessions.

Flowers have came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the second flower that was intended for him– despite the fact that she was yet to give it to him– came to him on the day of the the twins’ name day tourney, in the form of a rose, embroidered onto a tourney favor.

They have come to enjoy each other's company.

Her coming to his defense while expecting nothing in return had lit a fire in Aemond that he could not seem to quell. What he believed she had rejected him over, she had actually taken to being proud of. What he had believed was his one big, obvious and visible fatal flaw, was something that she had taken to holding in high regard.

I’ll have you lot know that unlike the other men of the court, his scar came to him along with the largest dragon in the world. And his bravery only makes him more handsome to me.

Her words rang in his mind like the definite tolling of the Great Bell at the Royal Sept. With each chime, her assertiveness on the matter came back to linger in his thoughts, he had fallen for her – bit by bit.

Feelings had always been a conundrum to Aemond, one that he did not entirely understand or even want to. But now, with a wife who warmed him and his heart slowly but surely, with her lovely smiles and nervous face, he found that he would like some certainty in the face of all that was uncertain in his heart.

He did not know if he loved her just yet. But what he did know was that, at the pace that she had set for them, it may be a very short while before he does. His wife. His wife, his wife, his wife.

His, his, his.

Coming to terms with having a wife that actually desired his company– and him, surprisingly enough– had spurned his attempts to bring some sort of intimacy to their marriage. Gods knew that she had tried, only to be rebuffed rudely by him in the initial days of their marriage. It was a time that he now felt deep regret and shame for, one that he would not rest until he had made right.

He needed her to see that he wanted to try.

He did not know how to be the charming prince from a bard’s songs. He did not know how to make women laugh like Aegon; be as sweet and kind as Helaena; or as chivalrous and perfect as Daeron.

But what he did know was respect. Aemond understood respect as something that was earned by everyone around him, but to his wife, it should have been unconditional. It should have come to her the day he had cloaked her and made her his– but it did not. Now, he intended to make it right.

He needed her to see that he wanted to try– which is how he found himself with her on his arm, as they walked hand in hand through the corridors of Maegor’s Holdfast towards their chambers. Ah yes, hand in hand. Another one of the little joys that he savored like it was his last day alive.

Their initially cold marriage had also been fueled by his blatant refusal to simply be near her, much less touch her. Why would she have wanted to be touched by a one-eyed monster, such as the likes of him?

But the moment he realized that she did not consider him so– not in the least– led to a warmth seeping through his blood, making him crave her so much that his heart hurt. If she did not mind it, why must he not exercise his liberties? And if there was some joy to be derived from it, why would they not want to indulge?

And so he had begun. A stolen touch here, a featherlight graze there.

His huge, calloused hand, seemed to be always holding her dainty one as he accompanied her throughout their time in the castle; on the small of her back as they maneuvered through feasts and dances; around her waist as they closed the distance between each other in their sleep, with her back to his chest; clutching onto her thigh to keep her in place for when she turned around and draped her tiny leg upon his waist.

His hands, all over her.

It was not just these fleeting, quick touches that Aemond had grown to enjoy. With their bond growing stronger with each passing moment, he had realized that their marital duties were simply not duties anymore. They had gone from believing that the other had tolerated their presence, to trying their level best so that the other would know how much they desired them. The growth of their marriage was evident in how their carnal indulgences had evolved.

Where he had held himself to hover over her so as to not facilitate any unnecessary touches, he had now taken to covering her entire being with his own. His hands around her hip as he pounded into her; her hands on his chest as the tip of her fingers grazed and pinched at his nipples. His hands in her hair as he mouthed at her heaving breast; her hands around him as she held onto him as tightly as she could, never wanting to let him go. His hands on her cunt as he drew peak after peak from her before thrusting himself into her; her hands around his cock as she pumped him before impaling herself by straddling him, just the way he liked.

Their sounds of pleasure had been held back and muffled in the beginning, but now they were uninhibited sounds taken by the wind, made with the intent of being heard and making desires known.

Oh yes, their marriage had grown.

This is what Aemond had been pondering as he led her through, with servants making their way for the young prince and princess as she held onto her husband with one hand, and a piece of rolled parchment and some charcoal on the other. He enjoyed their touches now, and it made his heart soar that he did not have to doubt her want for him either.

Yes, they could make something out of this.

“How was your time in the gardens, wife?” It made him happy that with the growth of their marriage, she had taken to exercising her liberties. So, when she had come to him requesting charcoal and bound parchment so she could begin drawing again, he was only happy to oblige.

“Good. I managed to sit and watch the flowers flit about in the wind for a time, and I drew a bit as well. Then the court ladies came to join me as they…”

Aemond listened to his wife as he sat himself on his chair by the hearth, most intently, and with the utmost concentration that he could muster. He could not bring himself to make selfless romantic declarations of love, or speak to her more than he was able. But he could listen, and that is what he would do.

Not a word unheard, not a moment missed. He needed her to see that he wanted to try.

She prattled on and on about her day, and how the court ladies had gossiped about each other when they thought the other wasn’t listening. He listened to the way her voice heightened when her recollections were happy, and he noted the way she frowned when she was in disapproval. He observed how her eyes widened at shocking narrations, and how her hands seemed to move like they had a life of their own.

He kept observing, losing himself in his newfound knowledge of her, her, her… and it was not until she stood close to him, her body slotted between his legs as she held her hands behind her back that he realized she had stopped speaking.

“Go on.”

He did not expect to be given something, not when his name day had just passed. But that is exactly what happened.

“For you,” she said. With her raised eyebrows and coy smile, she managed to place a parchment roll into his hand. Aemond made note of how her head faced down and her feet shuffled as she stood in wait for his approval.

He unrolled the parchment, careful to not cause even a stray tear at the edges. His eyes raked over the drawing, one of clear skill and years of training of the highest level– one befitting a lady.

“I shall treasure it, thank you.”

She smiled at his acceptance, and he nodded. He was not a smiling man, but he hoped that she knew how much he appreciated these gestures. He hoped that their marriage had grown enough for her to notice his quirks, just as he had made note of hers.

Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the third flower that she had given him was a charcoal sketch of a rose, into which she had poured her heart and soul.

As the days passed, their mornings became brighter.

While she had hoped that the initial days of their marriage would have some semblance of love, and if not, at least affection to some extent, her hopes had been quickly dashed with the closed off and curt behavior that her husband seemed to have made his own. Neither did he ever wish her a good morrow upon sunrise, nor did he kiss her goodnight like in the songs.

But now, there was more.

Where there was coldness, there was now warmth. It was not heat, not like wildfire, no– it was warmth, like from the calm blaze of their hearth. She might not have awoken to a smile, no– her husband was not a smiling man– but she always woke to an arm snaked over her breasts, pressing into her. Where there was distance, oceans between them, there was now a shared intimacy, one that they had both been quietly happy about. She was not put to sleep with a kiss, but whenever she slept on the chaise waiting for him to arrive, he now ensured that she was put into comfortable clothes and carried to their bed with care.

He may not have cared for her in the beginning, but she knew he did now. Her husband was not a romantic man, but his small gestures were enough to make her feel happy and content.

The shift in their dynamic was not just visible in their daytime activities, but in the passions of their marriage bed as well. On the first night that they had coupled, he had been careful, experimental, doubtful. But as the days went by, he had become surer, rougher… insatiable.

She enjoyed this new side to him. She enjoyed being the woman that belonged to a fierce prince, the one that he so clearly desired. She enjoyed being held by him as he moved her up and down his cock, his head buried in her breasts as he breathed in the heady smell of sweat and sex. She enjoyed being impaled by him, her small body being split into two, all while having him whisper words of appreciation in her ears.

My little wife, my little flower. Made for me… only for me, he would say. Tell me who this cunt belongs to, he would growl, hands slapping her little nub over and over until she caught her breath, found her voice again and appeased him.

You! Gods… to you, my prince, she would whine, holding his hand in place, hoping he would fuck her with his fingers once more, just the way she liked.

It came as no surprise to her that ever since they had become welcome to each other’s affections, they had been a lot more active in their marriage bed– so much so that the lewd moans and loud curses had become court gossip.

When she had addressed the matter with him once soon after they had fucked, Aemond had smiled, albeit darkly– the only kind of smile that suited him. Dragons do not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep, he had said. His insinuation that she was now a dragon too, all while his warm breath fanned her neck and his large hands squeezed her backside, was all she needed to quell her worries.

And of course, as was the natural order of these things, she was now with child.

She had been overjoyed when she had found out, and a tad relieved too. The court ladies whispering about her womb was not something she appreciated– their assumptions about her being barren, even less. So when she found out, she insisted that she be the one to break the news to her husband– her time as an expectant mother would never completely be her own, given the station she had now married into.

But this, this moment could be hers and his. It would be theirs alone.

And so, she sat in wait at the training grounds, watching him as he expertly maneuvered his sword and slashed at his mentor, Ser Cole. Dodge, lunge, slash. Dodge, lunge, slash. Dodge, lunge–

Ser Cole had bested him, having noticed the predictability in his movements. Aemond of course, being the headstrong man that he was, refused to give up. The anger in his face at being won over in a fight did not escape her, and she would be lying if she said it did not awaken desire in her once more. Before she could think further however, one of the lords in the audience had piped up.

“Perhaps the Prince would benefit from a token of luck from his dear lady wife!” He said, and the watching crowd around them seemed to agree as they cheered and whistled. Aemond was flummoxed, not knowing how to cope with being faced with the topic of his wife while in the middle of a fight. It was only then that he noticed her, red-faced and smiling as she was– before he could say anything, she had taken the lead.

“I’m afraid I’ve come empty handed, my lord. I’ve nothing to offer him right now!” She quipped with a smile. It had warmed him to know that she was jovial enough for the two of them, allowing him the luxury of staying quiet as she became his champion during situations like these.

“Ah well, he knows you’re here now, Princess! If that does not add to his fire, I do not know what will!”

Perhaps it was her presence, or it was his own prowess as a swordsman. But Aemond was quick to come through this time around. The crowds cheered for their Prince, and so did the man who had taught him to be all that he was.

“Well met, my prince,” Ser Cole said. He patted her dragon prince on his shoulder and walked over to where the swords were arranged. Aemond quickly followed in reverence to his teacher, one that he did not freely give to most. Soon after, the crowds had dispersed, and she watched as his slender, tall form stalk towards her.

“Since when do you frequent the training grounds, wife?”

“Can a wife not seek her husband out when she wants to?”

She could not have imagined rhetorics like these tumbling out of her mouth in the initial days of their union. But they were now closer than they had ever been, and she had discovered that it would not hurt to take initiative, especially given how quiet of a man her husband could be.

He was not the charming prince from the books or the songs, but she certainly loved who he was– inquisitive, considerate and respectful.

“Hm. Perhaps.”

Their walk back to their apartments was a slow and quiet one, with her knowing that he preferred his moments of quiet soon after his training. They soon settled into the solar, with the food spread out for them to break their fast.

As was his habit, Aemond stripped himself of his clothes as she checked the water in the tub with the tips of her fingers, water rippling as her hands moved. He was quick to step in and let his hands rest on either side of the tub, his legs ramrod straight but slowly loosening up as she ran a washcloth over him with a gentle softness that is most unlike him.

Her hands glided over his chest, arms and he caught hold of her when her hands moved to clean his neck, beckoning her to come closer. “My dutiful little flower, hm? Come to assist her husband and answer his every beck and call.”

“I am nothing, if not dutiful.” She said, playful smile teasing him as her breasts threatened to spill out of the neckline of her dress– causing his cock to half-harden at the sight. She kissed his cheek and set the washcloth down, hands traveling to his alabaster hair as she ran her fingers through it, allowing her wet hands to trudge through. When she was done, he was quick to pull at her hand from his side, causing her to bend to meet him, eyes to eye.

“You have a council meeting to get to, husband. Now is not the time.”

She knew very well what he wanted. It was what she wanted too– which is precisely why her own protests meant absolutely nothing to her as she gave in, dress riding up to her thighs and billowing wet in the water as she straddled him. Her cunt was already soaked for him, and he was hot and ready from all the energies that training seemed to have put into him. She rocked her hips forward and backward, adjusting to his girth, while sighing and breathing at the feeling of having him in her. It did not matter how many times he’d taken her, she would never get used to feeling so full.

Soon enough, he had her held harshly by her waist in a bruising grip, his teeth nibbling at her sensitive nipples as he moved her up and down, up and down, up and down. The water crashed out of the tub like waves crashing onto shore and she was quick to fall apart in a mix of pain and pleasure, moaning his name in her broken voice, followed by a silent scream. His release followed soon after, cock twitching in her as he drew her closer, closer and closer still. When she felt his cock soften after a time, she got up and he let her, following close behind.

“You fought well today, husband.” She said, in a feeble attempt to coerce a conversation from him as they sat at the table. He was a man of silence, and she was not. He did not prefer it, but she would try anyway - because there were times when he indulged her.

“Hm. Thank you.”

The smell of cut fruit was intoxicating to her, more so than usual. She had heard of women craving peculiar kinds of food during their time as expectant mothers, so she supposed that this may have to do with the little dragon that she now grew in her belly. The rest of their time eating moved in a swift silence– a comfortable one. The only sounds they heard were of the servants in the corridors and the birds chirping from out the window.

When they finished, the trays were taken away and he got up, ready to leave to sit in on the council meeting that his grandfather had called him for. He was halfway out the door after nodding to her when she took his hand, and he stopped.

Her hands held onto his as tightly as they could, and she was skittish as she continued to look down at the floor. By now, he knew her quirks well enough to know that she did that only when she wanted to say something.

“Go on.” He urged her as his other hand reached for her too.

She drew in a sharp breath as she bit her lip. “I… I am with child, husband.”

She did not know what to expect from him of her news– but his silent sigh and slight smile as his hands reached down to cover her belly in his hold is enough of a reaction. “Thank you,” he said, his gratitude and happiness made obvious– to her, even if not to anyone else. She did nothing but smile as his forehead met hers in a soft touch– their touches were always passionate and rough while in the privacy of their chambers, so it was peculiar for her to be treated this way. She found that she enjoyed it, just as much as she enjoyed being roughly handled by him.

She then stretched the fingers of one hand, revealing a little silk patch, a little tourney favor with a rose stitched on it. A flower, from his little flower.

“I know you do not prefer tourneys, but… it is my hope that you would at least keep it with you while you train.”

His hands ran over the soft silk, fingers tracing the intricate patterns that she had clearly taken her time with. He was quick to smoothen it out and pocket it, following it with a kiss to her lips.

“Thank you, for everything.”

The favor was only meant for the training grounds. But a week later, when she found it peeking out of his pocket while they walked around the gardens, she smiled. Soon, she found out that he kept it with him all day.

Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the fourth flower that she gave to him, came to him in the form of a favor with an embroidered rose, one that he kept on his person at all times.

There was something to be said about the comforts of silence.

Her husband was not a smiling man, nor was he an ardent conversationalist. Being a woman who leaned towards being both, she had begun their marriage with the intent of treading lightly, lest she annoy him or risk having him dismiss her halfway through. And she did try; Gods knew that she did.

Royal marriages were a sacred duty– those held in its sanctity would have to hold themselves to a higher standard, no matter how much it hurt them. With that being said, she was eternally thankful for Aemond understanding her preferences and trying to meet her halfway. She had been prepared for a man who would coldly dismiss her and her wants, but she had not been prepared for one that would actually want her.

One of the greatest pains of being born a noblewoman, she supposed, was that happiness in itself, was a privilege– one that she wished was not as such. She wished for it to be an easy thing to have, and as such, understood that she had been blessed with a quiet and peaceful marriage - one that did not take from her more than she was willing to give. It did not matter how many times she thought it over– she never failed to be as grateful as she was at the first realization, many moons ago.

These were her thoughts as she accompanied her husband in the library. Aemond sat opposite her, on the other side of the table with his finger running over the texts of the Summer and Winter Annals, deeply engaged in the knowledge that the book had to offer on the now lost Kingdom of Sarnor, once a famed trade partner of Valyria.

The fresh assortment of flowers lay haphazardly on her side of the bench, while she worked towards entwining them all onto the coir to make a crown. She often stole a glance at her husband as she repeatedly adjusted herself on her seat, one that was bigger than her usual one - to accommodate her, and the babe that she now carries.

An heir, a royal heir. There is dragon blood in you now, he had said.

She felt it, what with her babe’s constant reminders - boy or girl, the kicks were hard and swift, and it never failed to take her by surprise.

Aemond was a very fast reader, she gathered. His pages turned a lot faster than hers did, and his eyes never stuck to one part of the parchment for long - they flitted about and were restless, aiding him in his desire to learn as much as he can in the least amount of time. They have been married for half a year by now, and yet she manages to learn something new about him every day.

Her deft fingers worked through the stems of the flowers, piercing the sharp ends of the coir through them. In and out, in and out, in and out, she went - establishing a pattern that she ended up memorizing, whether she was cognizant of it or not.

Aemond stood up as he noticed a guard waiting near the doors, summoning him on behalf of the King. Her crown was now completely done, and she admired her handiwork as she twirled it in her finger and smiled. Aemond was now speaking to the guard as she ran the tip of her fingers over the petals. She brought it closer to her nose to smell them - the flowers were not as fragrant as they were once before, but there was a faint scent that she adored.

He nodded, and she could not help but smile again as he approached her. It struck her harder with each moment, how the Gods had blessed her with him - him with his infinite knowledge, calm disposition and otherworldly beauty. She wondered if the babe she carried would look like him - she hopes, hopes and hopes that they would.

He took the crown of flowers in his hands and handled it with the same care that she put into making it. It looked thoroughly out of place, yet so at home in his hands - much like herself.

A mildly happy lift at the edge of his lips caused a sharp dimple - one that made him look harsh, content and menacing at the same time. She may have wished for a Prince from the songs all the moons ago - but right now, she could not help but think that she had been blessed with someone greater, even if she knew that he did not believe it himself.

He placed the crown atop her head, crowning her. She remembered wishing he would crown her Queen of Love and Beauty at the twins’ name day tourney - but at this moment, as his fingers glided over her smooth hair to set the crown of white roses into place, she was happier than she could have ever been at any tourney.

“Escort the Princess safely to our chambers,” he ordered, after rubbing her growing stomach and giving her a kiss on her temple before going to meet the King. She stood slowly, and noticed that one unused and withering flower had been left behind. The air from outside the castle gushed through the windows, and it was purely by instinct that she grabbed it by the stem and placed it inside the pages of Aemond’s book before the pages flew - so it would be marked and he could begin where he left off if he so wished.

Long after her exit, Aemond came back to his bench after finishing his meeting with the King. He noticed the protruding stem, and he could not help but feel the warmth coarse through his chest as he opened the tome and found the withering flower pressed inside.

Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the fifth flower that she gave to him came to him in the form of a dried rose, one that he kept tucked safely inside his favorite book.

It was moments like these that made Aemond believe in anyone but himself.

Being able to love someone blindly was not a gift that Aemond ever found himself capable of giving. Ever since the loss of his eye, he had grown to be full of spite and resentment, believing that having his dragon was enough to make the loss of company around him worthwhile. Nobody knew how to speak to him anymore– how does one comfort a boy who could only see half the world around him?

And then, she came to him. His wife.

With her free smiles and open heart, she had made her way through into the center of his. He found that he preferred her there, where she belonged. She had made her home in his heart, and he marveled at how despite not matching up to her in any way that mattered, she had found it in herself to allow him to take shelter in hers.

It brought him shame to think of how they could have fallen in love much sooner if he had been open to her affections and not been so wrapped up in his own presumed fallacies. But with time, he learned that in a world where marriages remained cold until the bitter end, a late bloom of happiness was a gift that he should learn to treasure.

It is a girl. Do not ask me why I believe so, husband. I simply do, she had said.

The tomes say a bigger belly is indicative of a boy. I read it, he had countered then.

He stood corrected. Aemond would tell the entire realm that his worldly knowledge did not stand a chance against his wife’s intuition– the little girl he held in his arms was enough support for his claim.

She slept soundly in his arms as he sat in his chair by the hearth. His wife, tired from her taxing labors, had taken to sleeping through most of the last three days, and he had not left his daughter’s side, not once.

He held her head as his mother carried her for the very first time, eyes shining in joy as she thanked them both for making her a grandmother once more. There were very few things that gave Alicent Hightower joy, and watching her children have babes of their own was one of them.

He rested the tip of his fingers over her smooth and frail silver hair as his grandfather took a good look at her, allowing himself a moment with his guard down. Aemond had not seen his grandfather look at anyone with such reverence, not unless it was Helaena, Jaehaera or his own mother. And now, Aemond suspected that his grandfather, for all his cold demeanor, did have a soft corner in his heart for the women of his life.

He had towered over the crib as the twins took turns gawking at her, after spending hours begging to see their new cousin. Aemond brought them after they promised to not make too much noise– both mother and daughter were fast asleep. Jaehaera had asked him if she could braid her hair when she grew some, and Jaehaerys poked at the new babe's nose (her mother's nose) with his thumb in curiosity. Aemond laughed, for he was intrigued by her too– only, it was better contained.

He held her tightly to his chest with his hand over her head as Aegon came to meet his newborn niece– completely sober and bathed, upon Aemond’s threats of murder if he came anywhere near his babe with his foulness. He smiled as he dropped the little dragon toy in her crib, looking over at the exhausted mother who could barely keep her eyes open. Aemond’s one eye followed his brother’s then, and visibly softened at the sight of his wife. Aegon laughed and quipped, “I never thought I’d say this brother, but I suppose you do wear the lovestruck look well.”

He had rocked her in silence as Helaena cooed at her, elated at the thought of becoming an aunt to a niece. This family is in dire need of more women, she had mumbled absentmindedly once. “She’s beautiful,” she whispered and Aemond enthusiastically agreed.

She is beautiful, and she is his. His own daughter, given to him by his own wife.

In the nights, when he was left alone with the women around whom his entire world now revolved, Aemond let tranquility take him. And it was in moments like these, that he learned to love them both with all that he had– blindly, and unconditionally.

It was in moments like these, that he learned to believe.

Flowers have come to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the sixth flower that she gave to him, came to him in the form of his little daughter. A little flower, from his flower.

The flowers kept coming to him throughout the many years that followed, and he valued every one of them– for they had all come from her, and they were all a part of her.

His flower. His wife. His very own.

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MASTERLIST

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flowrmoth · 14 days

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...and then what happened?

DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE

Synopsis: your date last night with another girl got real juicy and ellie couldn't help but ask about it...

AN: okay so... this is my first drabble/oneshot so i'm sorry if it sucks. also idk where this idea came from, i just love the idea of ellie being a flustered mess bcus of you hihi (also english is my second language so yeah)

wc: 1.9k

warnings: mdni!!! sexual themes, not really smut, pining, lowkey loser!ellie/perv!ellie?, ellies just obsessed with u ok?, reader being oblivious, no mentions of Y/N or readers looks! (the photos are just for the aesthetic),

"So yeah, in conclusion, I totally beat Jesses ass. He doesn't know shit about pool." you laughed, getting comfortable on Ellies couch.

It was a relaxing Sunday night. You decided to spend the warm evening hanging out with Ellie, one of your closest friends. You definitely needed a breather after a long week of work. Ellie had informed you that she coped some weed from her dealer, so of course, you said yes to a smoke sesh.

You came prepared, nights like these at her place always meant that you would probably end up sleeping over and watching cheesy movies while covered in buttery popcorn and chocolate.

Now, you were sprawled out on her worn out, brown couch in your pajama shorts and a loose t-shirt. Ellies outfit and position mimicking yours, her long legs stretched out in front of her, eyes glued to the insanely boring Sci-Fi movie she picked out and a joint in hand. You were recalling the events of last Friday when you went out with Dina and Jesse and when you finally beat Jesse at pool.

"Damn, can't believe you beat the master himself. He won't ever live that down." Ellie chuckled, taking a drag from the newly lit spliff she rolled before you came over. She looked over at you with tired eyes and smiled. Fuck, she was never getting over this crush. To be honest, Ellie couldn't fucking stop thinking about you. Every day, every second, you were the only thing on her mind. But of course, she was too afraid to do anything about it, too scared that she would fuck everything up and lose you if she confessed. So she decided to remain quiet and enjoy you from afar, basking in your beauty ever time you would sleep in her bed or smoke her weed.

"Duh, I'm a hundred times better than him." you said with a smirk, looking over at Ellie and taking the joint from her slender fingers.

Fuck.

She just remembered. You had a date last night. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You've been raving about this girl, Sarah or whatever the hell her name was, for weeks. Some girl that was coming to your work and finally asked you out last week. Ellie broke a sweat. She had to know what happened.

Did you kiss?

Did you fuck?

God, she'd hoped not.

"Hey, um, how was your date last night? With Sarah?" she asked sheepishly, trying not to sound to dry and nervously fiddling with her ear. She looked over at you and your eyes widened.

"Oh my god! I can't believe I forgot to tell you! Her name's Sophia, Ellie, you know this." you jumped in your seat from excitement and turned your body to face Ellie. "Yeah, yeah, Sophia. Whatever. How was it?" Ellie rolled her eyes, not really caring for the girl.

You sat criss-cross from her, beaming with happiness. You couldn't wait to tell Ellie about the night. "Okay, so, you know that new restaurant?" you ranted with a big smile, retelling Ellie all about the dinner you had, the drinks you ordered and the pretty flowers your date had brought you, but all Ellie could think about was if you went home with the girl. She focused on the TV while you talked, looking over at you with brief glances, too afraid you might notice the disappointment and jealousy twinkling in her eyes or the way her fingers were gripping the joint so tightly she thought it might rip in half.

That girl hadn't even bought you the right damn flowers, or ordered the right drink. She didn't fucking know anything about you. Ellie knew that your favorite flowers weren't roses, far from it, and who the hell orders tequila for a first date? You were clearly a 'daises and whiskey' kinda girl. She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

After the part about the dinner and what not, you finally got to the part about going to Sophias apartment, which Ellie had secretly hoped had not happened. Ellie felt her heart drop and a cold sweat ran from her head right to her stomach. Fuck.

"Then, she asked me if I wanted to smoke, so of course I agreed immediately. I was nervous anyways because she was so hot, you know? Figured it would calm me down." you talked, moving your hands excitedly while Ellie was just nodding along, trying to match your energy as best as she could. She cringed at the word 'hot'.

"Wait, I'm gonna re-enact exactly what happened, 'cus damn, she knew what she was doing!" you laughed, definitely enjoying the replay of last night. Ellies mouth was dry. What the fuck do you mean re-enact what happened?

"And then, she sat on the couch and was all like 'Come here'." you made sure to put on a seductive voice and manspread a bit, while motioning your finger, trying to act out the scene as you remembered. At this point, Ellie was fucked. She prayed the story would be over soon so she could stop imagining you with someone that's not her.

Someone else's hands touching you, caressing you, tracing their fingers around every damn curve of your body that she so badly wanted to feel. It was too much for her.

"Yeah?" Ellie whispered, throwing a questioning look your way. Her hands were getting clammy and the joint was starting to die out.

"Yeah, and then..." you eye her up and down "I kind of like, straddled her. Like this." you chuckled, enjoying the recreation of previous events.

Slowly, you got up from your criss-cross position and started moving towards Ellies side of the couch. Your stare was a dangerous one, one that Ellie has never seen before. Her breath hitched and she swallowed thickly. She could feel the hairs on her neck standing up. Her bangs sticking to her slightly damp forehead.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. You were definitely too high, because what the hell is happening?

Your hazy, drunken stare set onto her panicked one. Your hands made their way to Ellies shoulders, gripping them for support. One of your legs swung over Ellies and settled at the side of her thighs, straddling them.

"Then," you took the joint from her shaky fingers and brought it up to your lips, taking a long drag "she did something like this." with a whisper, your hand cupped Ellies cheeks and squeezed them lightly so her lips would part. As you got closer to her face, you blew the thick smoke into her mouth. Ellies eyes immediately darted to your lips and her own got dry with nervousness. She puffed out the rest of the smoke.

Her words were caught in her throat, but she had to say something. Anything. Just to make you stay in this position longer.

"And, um... And then what?" Great fucking question, Ellie. Her voice came out small and hushed. She swore she tried not to sound too tense, but with your fucking perfect thighs sitting on her own, your perfect face so close to hers, your perfect perfume, that she would sometimes steal to from your purse and quickly spray on her wrist, was invading her space completely. She was awestruck, but still tried to play it cool like this wasn't the best thing that has happened to her. Her hands automatically moved to your plush thighs, giving them a light squeeze.

You let out a laugh and whispered, putting out the spliff in the ashtray next to you "And then, um, I don't know. She did this thing, on my neck, that felt so good, but I don't know how to do it." this was actually one of your first sexual/romantic experiences with someone, so it was still new and you still didn't really know what you were doing. You just thought you were sharing a great experience with a great friend.

"Y-yeah? What thing?" Ellie tried to egg you on with a nervous chuckle. This was too good to be true for it to be over so soon. She didn't dare move her hand from your legs, not even an inch. She could bet that her face looked like a fucking tomato right now from how hard she was blushing, but she didn't care when the prettiest girl she had ever seen was in her fucking lap.

"Something likes this..." you bow your head to meet your lips with Ellies neck. Your mouth hadn't even grazed her pulse point, but you could already feel it quickening. You press your lips to her sweet spot, just for a moment, before opening your mouth and sucking in her skin lightly. Her skin tasted so sweet, so soft, with a hint of her signature wood-y perfume and natural scent.

Ellie rolled her eyes so hard she thought she was seeing heaven. She was trying so hard not to let out a stifled moan that was threatening to escape her throat. That will definitely leave a hickey. You let her neck go, kissing the newly bruised spot once or twice, now moving your mouth to her jaw and peppering kisses along the way. Your hand eventually found its way to the back of Ellies head, tangling your fingers in her auburn locks.

Ellie couldn't help but squeeze your thighs, giving you encouragement to continue, her long fingers digging into your soft flesh. She tried so hard to not slide her hands up your thighs and under your pajama shorts. She felt every fucking inch of you underneath her. Your legs squeezing hers, your chests so unbelievably close, one of your hands resting on her shoulder while the other one was working its way through her messy hair. She was so aware of your pelvis pressing into hers, she prayed that you couldn't feel her every goddamn pulse.

You finished off your performance with a quick, delicate kiss at the corner of her lips as you slid away your hands from her body, leaving her all sweaty and worked up. You climbed off of her and went back to your side of the couch, completely unaware of the fucking effect you have on Ellie.

Ellie almost whimpered when she felt your heat leave her, suddenly feeling cold and empty without your body on hers. Like a missing puzzle piece. She shifted upwards and cleared her throat, tucking her hair behind her ears with her shaky palms, rubbing them on her grey shorts. She didn't dare look at you, fearing that you would see her wide eyes and red cheeks.

"Sorry, I hope that wasn't that bad." you glance at Ellie and say with an unknowing smile, acting like nothing happened. Like the greatest thing that Ellie has ever witnessed didn't just occur. You returned to your phone, probably texting the girl whose kisses you just acted out.

Ellie felt sick. Sick with want and sick with the fact that that wasn't real. What just happened wasn't real, but holy fuck, did she enjoy it.

"Yeah, no, that was, uh, good. Wow. Can't believe s-she did all that." she tried to stutter out with closed eyes and clenched fists, getting up from the couch.

"Right? I know!" you returned. "I'm just gonna go to- Yeah, be right back." Ellie said quickly while making her way to the bathroom, almost tripping on her own feet in the process.

She swiftly got in and went straight to the sink. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, not the mention the beads of sweat on her forehead and the damp spot that formed beneath her black boxers. Fuck, she was so embarrassed that only a fucking kiss on the neck got her so worked up. She turned on the tap and splashed her face with cold water, looking at herself in the mirror.

Fuck, Ellie was so in love with you.

#jgiowrjfiworj hope this was good #my pieces #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #the last of us #tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie #ellie the last of us #tlou #ellie x reader

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chaethewriter · 1 year

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You're dead to me [8]

dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

warning: english isn't my first language, heavy angst, fluff, I'm sorry if this sucks, barely proofread.

Word count: 7k

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"She's beautiful.." Jake held you in his arms as he gazed at your sleeping face. You were born just an hour ago. The birth was hard, but he knew your mom was strong. She would make it. Jake Sully was sitting in an empty hospital room with you in his arms as nurses walked in and out to check up on you. You were breathing and healthy, the news making him exhale in relief. He was wondering why you were separated from your mom for so long though, shouldn't you be in her arms instead of his? He knew your mother had a hard time during her labor, but this shouldn't take too long right? You opened your mouth as you whined silently, your tiny fragile hands reaching in the air. He immediately brought his face towards yours, until your soft fingertips touched his face. You immediately calmed down at the warmth, tiny breaths leaving your lips. He was enjoying the peaceful silence with you in his arms, keeping his face close to your fingertips to touch. A doctor ended this silence, as she barged in with a map in her hands. She cleared her throat, making Jake Sully stop his chuckles as he sat up straight in his wheelchair, "is she okay, doc?" He asked with worry plastered on his face as he talked about your mother. The doctor shook her head, "I'm sorry for your loss, sir." His eyes widen in shock, "what? What do you mean?" He held you tighter in his arms, bringing you closer to him as you snuggled into his warmth. "She didn't make it, we tried everything. I'm sorry for your loss." She repeated and he felt his heart drop. He promised your father to keep your mother safe and he failed in doing just that. "Other relatives in the system are unconfirmed, so we will put her up for adop-" Jake cut the doctor off, not daring her to even finish that sentence, "no!" His sudden booming face made you sob, wondering why the familiar warmth holding onto you was feeling so distressed. "No no baby, I'm sorry. Don't cry baby." He shushed you as he pressed his forehead against yours, rocking you back and forth, "I'm sorry for scaring you, baby. There is nothing." He pressed a kiss against your cheek and soon your wailing stopped. The doctor gave Jake a knowing look, writing something down on the papers in her hand, "did you want to adopt her?" She didn't even need to ask to know the answer to that. Jake's gaze moved from your small figure toward the doctor in front of him, "Yes please, I can't lose her." He gently stroked your baby hair as he shushed you to sleep. "I want you to bear in mind that it will be a long process before she can permanently live with you." But he didn't mind, as long as he could have you, he would be alright with that. "That's okay, I'm prepared for that." She handed him the pen as she held the map out in front of him, to sign that he would like to adopt you. Jake didn't need to think twice, as he took the pen in his grip and signed at the bottom of the paper, all while supporting your fragile little head. "Can I also ask for the confirmed name? We never got to ask the mother, unfortunately." Jake looked back at your adorable sleeping figure, your grip on his finger, definitely not planning to let him go. He thought back to the conversations he had with your father, then your mother. He looked back at the doctor with a determined smile,

"(Y/N) (L/N)."

You, Seb, and Raja were separated into different groups as well as Neteyam and Lo'ak. You were so disappointed when it happened, but you couldn't show or voice that. This was a serious mission after all. The three of you had different skills, hence you were placed into different groups as well. Lo'ak and Neteyam were told to be spotters, flying on their Ikrans to spot any danger lurking around the corners. You were happy for them to be taking part in this raid, especially for Lo'ak since it had been a struggle for him to be a part of hunts and raids like these. After the meeting, everyone immediately went off to train and prepare for the big raid in a few days. Seb and Raja went to greet you before they also went off to work on the preparations, which included teaching the Na'vi. Raja was amazing in hand-to-hand combat and Seb's skills lay in the bows and guns. They would definitely be alright in their hands. Neteyam and Lo'ak still stood with you as you zoned out, thinking about why Eywa would do this to you. "Sissy?" Neteyam crouched down to your height as he poked your sides with his tail, wrapping it around your arm right after to shake you out of your thoughts. You felt a tug at your arm, a soft touch to your skin, and you flinched towards Neteyam, "sorry, yes?" Lo'ak tilted his head in worry, "big sis, are you okay?" Before you could answer his question, Neteyam chimed in, "is it about dad?" You sighed at the mention of your father, nodding your head to confirm their suspicions, "yeah actually. What is eywa planning with this?" You didn't want to voice it, but you felt nervous. These past few days you tried your best to have the minimum contact with him, but now you were basically forced to spend your days with him until the raid. "Don't question Eywa's ways, sissy. I'm sure she has a reason to." He wrapped his arm around you, making you flush at the affection. You were used to hugging yes, especially because of Raja, but this was your baby brother. Your family by blood. You felt so comforted. "He's right big sis, and I mean, if you make up with him, evetually, we can have you with us!", Lo'ak soon joined the hug. It was a little awkward since you were much shorter than your brothers, but that didn't matter to you at all. They were your precious baby brothers. You pulled Lo'ak down to press a kiss on his cheek, turning to Neteyam to do the same to him, "my two favorite warriors!" They both flushed at your affection, their tails swished from left to right as their ears perked up. They got affection from their big sister, not you as a warrior, but their sissy. Something both of them definitely needed during these harsh times with Neteyam needing to be the perfect son and Lo'ak feeling out of place.

An awkward-sounding cough was heard behind you, so you pulled away from the hug and turned around to come face-to-face with your dad. Neteyam immediately took a step back, meanwhile Lo'ak plucked on his loincloth, ignoring his father's gaze. "Lo'ak, Neteyam. Go see your mother." Neteyam's expression immediately faltered as well as Lo'ak's. The only things they were told were orders or when they fucked up. "Yes sir" the two of them said as their ears pressed against their heads, their tails between their legs, showing that they were visibly upset. You frowned at his words, "Don't talk to my brothers like that," you turned your back to him and faced your baby brothers. You held both of their hands as you caressed them, "I will see you later, okay? I'll visit you, or you come to me whatever you prefer." The two of them nodded, their smiles reaching their eyes once again thanks to your kind words. They greeted you with shy smiles before heading the opposite way. Jake's gaze faltered. He wanted to spend time with you to reconcile, but he wasn't off to a great start. Not at all. "(Y/N), I really want to make this right between us. I want us to reconcile and have that father-daughter relationship we used to have." You just listened to his words, staring right into his eyes. "So, please give me a chance to make this right. Please give me a chance to take me back as your father." He stepped closer to you, sitting on his knees and taking your hands in his. You pursed your lips, something you have been doing a lot these past few days. You saw the genuineness in his eyes and heard it in his voice. You almost felt bad. Almost. "I'm on your team, so we might as well talk about the mission, right?" Your tone was neutral as you spoke, but Jake knew that you had just given him his chance. Bad blood in the team during a mission never was good, it could lead to defeat. That's what you told yourself, but was that really the main reason you wanted to spend time with him? A bright smile made its way on Jake's face as he gave your hands one more squeeze, pulling away to give you some space. "Thank you, thank you so much, let's get to one of the labs for your comfort?" You nodded your head, "that would be nice yes." You didn't mind waiting for him, because he would most likely follow you. And definitely not to your surprise, he did.

The two of you headed to one of the labs at high camp instead of the one in the forest meant for you, Seb and Raja to stay at. The lab was in the forest so that you could keep watch on anything weird that could happen and alert high camp in case. But now you couldn't bother to head that way. One, you were lazy. Two, it's easier to get to this lab. Three, literally the same reason as the first two reasons. A better reason could be that both Seb and Raja needed the lab to run in and out of while teaching. You went to one of the labs at the back, hoping that that one would be empty. Once you reached the entrance, you twisted the lock open and fortunately the lights were off, indicating no one was inside to disturb you. Jake held the door open for you as you walked in, taking your mask off and hanging it at your hip. He stepped in after you and took one of the oxygen masks off the wall, hanging the cord around his neck and immediately bringing the mask to his face to take a whiff of the Pandorean air. You opened the second door and stepped inside the lab, clicking a few buttons that made the lights and screens turn on. You stepped towards the table right in the middle of the lab, putting your weapons down for you to sit comfortably on the chair. You pulled the tablet from under the table and clicked the button on the right to turn it on, dragging the screen towards the table to make it appear on the flat metal. Your father followed right after you, looming over your body from behind. He rested his forearms against the table, next to your figure, and took a step back to slightly bend over to meet your gaze. With your finger, you drew a line on the tablet, drawing the path the transport would take. At the same time, a line identical to the one you drew also appeared on the metal table. "I would like to offer you my plan, if you don't mind?" With your mask off, your entire face was visible for Jake Sully to see. Finally, he had a chance to see what emotions you were feeling. "Of course, go ahead babygirl." The nickname felt so natural to him as it left his lips to the point he couldn't stop calling you that even if he had a gun pointed at his head. You would always be his babygirl, his dearest. Your eyes slightly widened at the nickname. You thought he would stop calling you that after you full-on ignored his feelings and dedication, but he didn't and you felt your heart flutter. You started explaining your strategy, drawing different lines and notes on the map. You sometimes muttered to yourself, speaking to yourself and it made Jake slightly teary-eyed. It sounded awfully close to the babbling you used to do as a little kid when you were excited or concentrated. Instead of the warrior that you were, he saw his little girl in front of him, brows furrowed and muttering to herself. He could listen to you all day, whether it was important or the stupidest story. "Are you even listening?" You frowned at him as you stopped with what you were doing, slightly hurt at the fact he wasn't even listening to you as you spoke, even though you gave him a chance. "Whatever." You stood up from your seat, visibly hurt as you got ready to leave, but your father gripped your hand. The touch was gentle, "I listened. I listened to every word you said. You just didn't change. The way you muttered to yourself, you did that when you were a kid. Babbling as you were concentrating." You tilted your head to the side, still not believing a word he said. Jake Sully knew that you didn't want his words, but his action. So he showed you, by re-explaining everything you told him, the exact words you used and pointing at the exact lines and notes as he did. You couldn't help but smile at his action, feeling giddy at the fact he actually listened to every word you told him. Jake watched as you smiled, cheering inside his head as he finally made you smile.

He finally knew what to do.

It soon reached eclipse and you realized you were longer with your father than you expected it to be. What you thought would only take an hour, turned out to take an entire day. The two of you talked about the past approaches as front field, as well as the Na'vi on the direhorses. You also explained what would be best for Raja and Seb to do: Raja with the direhorses and Seb shooting from midair. Meanwhile you came to the conclusion you would be best with Jake on his Ikran, attacking the helicopters. You didn't want to say it out loud, but you actually had a lot of fun. It felt like a bonding moment, not really on the father-daughter scale, but slow steps. Jake also felt like he was doing a great job. It was a slow progress, but he understood. For you, he would wait for decades. "It's getting late, where are you staying?" There was Jake Sully's father instinct. Who could you fool, he always had that instinct, from the moment he met you. "I promised to meet up with Lo'ak and Teyam, after that I will head to the forest." He shook his head, his hand on your shoulder, "You're not going alone, especially not with those knuckleheads. Tell me when you're ready to head home. I'll bring you." His hand traveled to your cheek, stroking it with his thumb before he left the lab. He knew he had to leave for now, to give you some space. But outside, Jake Sully couldn't help but jump in the air as he balled his fists, throwing his arms in the air as he celebrated his first win, his first step into making things better with you. You could hear him from the inside, shaking your head as you couldn't help but smile. Maybe it was time to give him a chance.

"Waaah!! Papa!!!" You frantically wailed as you were on the mossy ground, your dress covered in dirt and your knees scraped, covered in blood and dirt. Jake Sully didn't think for another second as he wheeled toward you, his expression laced in worry and pain to see his little princess in pain. "Baby!! Princess I'm here, I'm here." He bent over to pick you off the ground, placing you on his lap as you continued to cry. The two of you were at a playground. You were happily playing, running from the slide to the swings and the monkey bars. When you were about to rush towards the swings, you tripped over a rock and fell to the dirt covered ground, making you wail loudly. He inspected your face first, then your hands and arms and lastly your legs. Your eyes were teary as you spoke, nose running, "papa it hurts." You sobbed as your grip on his shirt tightened. He took your bag with one hand as his other was rubbing soothing circles on your back, "papa is going to take care of it, alright? Papa will help you." You could only nod as you rubbed your teary eye with one of your hands. He opened your adorable bag, pulling a first aid kit out. He may be terrible at taking care of himself, but taking care of you is what he CAN do. "Babygirl, this is going to hurt. I need to clean your wounds, because I can't let your wounds be dirty. You understand that right?" You just nodded in response. You were a strong girl, you can listen to your daddy. He took a tissue and the small bottle of desinfectant in his hand, "squeeze daddy if you have to, okay?" He opened the bottle and carefully squirted the alcohol on your knees, making you sob. The tears rolled down your cheeks as you squeezed your father's arms. But you didn't scream, you were a strong girl. He watched how the dirt removed itself from your wounds and how your skin pulsed at the chemical reaction. He proceeded to carefully tap your knees dry, all while you silently sniffed. He pressed a kiss onto your cheek and finally put a plaster in each wound. You smiled at the plaster. It was a plaster of your favorite cartoon character. He pressed his lips against yours, drying your tears with a tissue, "there you go, good girl." You thanked him with another kiss, "i love you papa!!"

"Goodmorning sissy" Neteyam greeted you at the opening of the cave. You beamed at him as Lo'ak helped you off his Ikran. The morning after your bonding with your father, you didn't expect to be woken up so early. You opened the door to the lab as Lo'ak stood there with a grin on his face, "You're coming with me." You couldn't protest as he just picked you up and put you on his Ikran, heading off to god knows where. You could here Seb screaming after you as you disappeared into the air. Something along the lines of: "see you soon!" You grinned at Neteyam as you pulled at his waist, forcing him to get down so that you could pull him in a hug, "Goodmorning mighty warrior." Lo'ak sent his Ikran away as he walked up to the two of you, leaning on your head with his elbow, "so what's the plan today?" You frowned at his gesture and smacked his arm away, "you were the one that brought me here so early in the morning! You can tell me what I am supposed to do here so early!" You grumbled, you could have slept in and taken your sweet time to get ready, but Lo'ak just had to rush you as he was too excited to function. He pouted at you in return, "sorry big sis, I was too excited." He smiled sheepishly at you as he poked your cheek. "Come have breakfast with us, sissy." Before you could answer, Neteyam had already grabbed onto your hand and pulling you to their home, "Neteyam wait! I don't want to intrude!" You tried to pull away from his grip. You didn't belong to their family, it was their fortress. Not yours. But Neteyam didn't listen to you. Lo'ak followed behind excitedly, "this is gonna be so fun! You won't intrude big sis, we will finally have breakfast as a complete family!"

"Oel Ngati Kameie, I'm sorry to intrude." The words leave your lips as you entered their home, feeling slightly ashamed as you did so. Neteyam pulled you inside as he faced his parents, who were seated at the table in surprise at your arrival. Jake Sully immediately felt warm inside at the sight of his oldest daughter, "come sit, babygirl." He scooted over, now sitting on the head of the table. This way seven people could fit the table. Again, Neteyam pulled you toward the table, forcing you to sit down as he took a seat next to you. Lo'ak sat down in front of you as he grinned at you. Next to him sat Kiri and Tuk. Then lastly Neytiri, who sat next to Neteyam and in front of Tuk. Jake looked at his family with a proud look on his face. You were sitting right next to him and you still looked a little nervous. "Hii (Y/N)!!" Tuk's voice boomed through the pod as she yelled in excitement. "Tuk, behave! Goodmorning sis." You smiled at Kiri and Tuk at the end of the table, greeting them in return. Neteyam wrapped his arm around you with a grin, "we have fruits right?" It was more of a global question that he asked, waiting for a response from someone that knew. "Yes, we do." Neytiri got up from her seat to get the food, Kiri following after her mother to help. You wanted to get up to give a helping hand as well, but Jake stopped you by putting his hand on yours, holding it affectionately, "It's okay baby, sit." To get everyone talking, Lo'ak chirped in with a question, "tell us about your training on earth please!" His eyes were sparkling as he sat across from you, his hand on the table as he waited for your answer. Before you could answer, Jake leaned his elbow on the table as he rested his chin on his palm, "I would also like to know, if you don't mind telling that is."

You smiled at your father, knowing he couldn't even see it. But your eyes told it all to him. Once Neytiri and your sisters returned, they set the food down on the table: sturmbeest meat and small portions of different fruits. You didn't want to take anything, as you already intruded on their family bonding moment, but Neytiri insisted as she filled you a portion of fruits and demanding you to eat them, since you couldn't eat the Na'vi meat. You thanked her with a grateful nod, before you cleared your throat, "well Lo'ak. It all started because of my last name." You glanced at your father and your gaze never left him as you spoke. You told them how you were founded, the training you went through, the people you met, your achievements, all that. Tuk was so interested that she kept asking questions, Neytiri telling her to not talk with her mouthful. Your father in the meantime couldn't stop staring at you, the way you spoke and excitedly told them about your experiences. He then realized how much he had actually missed of your life. His food was already cold when you finished talking, untouched as his focus was on you.

After breakfast, your father needed you with him again. Much to your disappointment, you greeted your siblings and Neytiri on the way out. "Where are we going?" He grinned at you in return as he grabbed your hand, "You'll see." He led you to where the Ikrans were stalled and your eyes sparkled. Still holding onto your hand, he got his own Ikran out of his stall. Your gaze moved from the Ikrans towards your hands intertwined. You didn't feel an insane amount of resentment for him anymore, so you could allow it. He did try his best like he said he would, after all. "This is bob, bob this is (Y/N), my daughter." You facepalmed at the name. You couldn't believe what you were hearing, "bob?" It was more of an 'are you serious' tone rather than a question. "Yes, bob." He brought his free hand towards the Ikran's face, petting his snout with a proud smile. "And you named me?" Your reply was sassy and Jake couldn't help but pinch your cheek through your mask with the hand that used to be holding yours, "Don't be like that missy, we are going on a flight."

Your father helped you settle down on his Ikran, but you insisted that you could do it on your own, denying his help completely. Disappointed, he then proceeded to take a seat behind you, "do you know where to hold?" He moved closer towards your small body, the back of your head hitting his torso for your comfort. "Yes, my first ride was with Teyam, I'll be fine yes." You held onto the reins as you tried your best not to lean into your father's warmth, but he beat you to it as he wrapped one arm around your torso, the other holding onto the reins. Jake couldn't deny that he felt jealous of his own sons, their relationship was tense ever since he saw how happy you were with them. He was being incredibly childish, but he couldn't help it. "You and he are very close, aren't you?" He grumbled as he made Bob walk towards the entrance of the cave. The jealousy was obvious as it was laced in his tone. It actually made you chuckle, seeing your father all grumpy like that. "Yes, we sure are." You decided to see how far you could push him. "But you're my daughter." He grumbled again, pulling onto the reins, making Bob take off into the sky. The impact made you press against your father, a screech of excitement leaving your lips. Once you calmed down, you turned to answer, "you gotta work for my respect, papa." And his eyes sparkled at that nickname.

The next few days, you mostly spend them with your father. Mostly planning the raid and working on your relationship, kinda. You never forgot about your siblings though: flying with Neteyam, exploring with Lo'ak, making flower crowns with Tuk and lying in the grass with Kiri. Your father and you have been growing closer bit by bit. You weren't fully there though, not ready to be all giddy with him just yet. Yet during these days of spending your time with him, the guilt was eating you from the inside. The way your father was so focused on reconciling with you to the point he sent his children away whenever they wanted to ask him something or show him their achievements. You went so long without a father figure. You didn't want your siblings to go through that as well. You started wondering, you weren't even his child by blood, did you deserve his attention? He was always busy being with you, instead of being with his kids. An example is that he taught you how to fish, such a dad thing to do. Even though it wasn't the usual fishing you knew on earth, it was still fun with the bow and arrow. You would much rather hit your enemies close with your katana than from far away like that. It was still enjoyable either way. The two of you also decided to practice your strategy: you jumping off his Ikran, hitting the target and your father catching you midair. He thought you were insane when you told him so, scolding you like a father would. But you reminded him that you were a trained warrior, that you trained for this day and that he couldn't take that away from you. He eventually gave in, hence you practiced a lot with him. Whatever happened, you just knew he would always catch you.

"Papa? Papa dead?" Your teary-eyed face shook your dad's body, who was on your couch breathing heavily. "Baby, I'm okay." Jake was sweating profusely as he saw everything blurry, but he always managed to try and keep you from worrying. You touched his sticky face, babbling as you tried to keep him awake, "daddy no die!" You got up from the floor as you ran and disappeared into the kitchen. You came back with the first aid kit box and a bottle of water. You put everything on the floor as you sobbed, "papa help!" You took a plaster, removing the foil to stick the sticky part on his arm, "papa please!!" Your pleads kept him from falling asleep, as he squinted his eyes to focus on his surroundings. "Baby, the blue striped box." He mumbled, knowing that the box filled with paracetamol looked like that. You frantically looked through the stuff. Fortunately, you were good with colors and figures. You took the box in your hand and showed it to him, "papa what now?" He then proceeded to give you instructions while barely holding onto his sanity. He felt so lightheaded. He's so lucky that you're a smart little girl. You popped a pill out of the pack and poked it at his bottom lip, "papa open!!" He slighty sat up and you held onto his arm for support. Not that it did anything, but you caring for him was more than enough. Your father opened his mouth as you put it on his tongue. You then brought the glass closer to his lips, "papa sip!" He slightly smiled at your caring manner and opened his mouth, gulping the water down as the pill slid down his throat. You then climbed to lay down on his torso, your arms around his neck as you kissed his chin, "papa better?" He didn't know if the medicine is already working or not, but with you on his chest, he immediately felt sober and healthy.

It was the day of the raid. Your first official mission on Pandora, your years of training not going in vain. You were so snappy since you realized your insecurities, the guiltier you felt the more frustrated you grew. You didn't dare voice them to anyone. You couldn't complain, you didn't have the right to complain. You were the source of the family's imbalance. Yet, you felt like you were being so selfish. You wanted to spend time with your father so badly after a decade of not seeing him and you couldn't stay away from your siblings, they were your dearest. Again, you were with Neteyam at high camp, somewhere at the side of the cave. The two of you were attached to the hip. He was cuddling right at you, burying his face in your shoulder, ears pressed to his head, "dad is being so hard on us." He mumbled as you pressed him against you, rubbing his ears with his fingertips. Lo'ak was god knows where, probably making a mess just for Neteyam to clean it up again. "I know Teyam, I'm sorry." You didn't know why you were apologizing to him. Deep inside you knew why, you were breaking their relationship by just existing. You thought that it was bullshit that someone could be a bother by just existing, but you were that person. Neteyam ignored your apology, since he didn't understand what you meant, as he hugged you tighter against him, silent sniffs leaving his nose, "I'm so tired, but I don't want to disappoint." Your eyes soften at his words, shaking your head as you scratched his ears, "You don't disappoint baby bro, I'm so proud of you. I look up to you so much, you're such a strong young boy with a strong heart." He flushed at your compliments, his tail swaying from left to right as you held him in his arms, "thank you sissy." Neteyam has been the clingiest with you so far, always looking for you like a lost cat with his tail between his legs. From the start he always held his worries to himself and never complained about anything, sucking everything up that was thrown at him. Now that he had a big sister, he wouldn't dare to miss the opportunity to be the young fragile sibling for once. This was also why you didn't dare voice your insecurities and thoughts: he needed a place to spill his heart out too without worrying about anything after. "Neteyam!" Neteyam immediately pulled away from your hug, getting off the ground with his tail between his legs, "yes sir." Jake stood in front of the two of you with his arms crossed, "I didn't expect you to slack off. Go fetch your brother." Neteyam pursed his lips as he firmly nodded his head, "yes sir." Without looking back at you, he headed the other way, his walk confident yet you knew it was a facade. "You're very hard on him." You watched your dad with a frown, anger taking your body over as this terrible behavior towards his children by blood got to you mixed with your mixed feelings. "I'm their father, it's my job." Jake's expression didn't falter at all, his face as neutral as ever whenever he spoke to his sons. That just made you even angrier, "this is a family, not your marine squad that you can only go to for orders for christs sake!" You balled your fists as you walked past him, your shoulder hitting his arm on the way. He then proceeded to grab your wrist, obviously upset at your change of behavior, "they need me to go hard on them to get strong, (Y/N)." You harshly pulled your hand away from him, "No Toruk Makto, they need their dad." And you walked away without looking back. After the whole ordeal, Neytiri emerged from the shadows, her expression upset as she listened from the moment Neteyam spoke from the bottom of his heart to you blowing up on your father, "she's right you know. You are very hard on them. They're your sons, not your army." Yet Jake Sully didn't hear her, as his mind was only on you, suddenly feeling like all the efforts on his progression were thrown out of the window and back at zero.

The ride to where the raid would take place was awkward. Your father kept trying to make small talk with you as you stood behind him, your hand gripping on his shoulder while your other held your katana, but you didn't reply to any of his questions or words. You were so furious at him for still treating your siblings like that while trying to make up with you. You didn't want it to look like he favored you, because it really did look like that: neglecting his children by blood, because he is trying to reconcile with the girl that only shares his last name. You started second guessing your worth, you didn't belong to his family. You were his past after all and he settled down. You were only intruding at this point, intruding in their family. You shouldn't have ever revealed yourself. "Babygirl please," Jake was desperate as he spoke. He trusted, no, he believed that the raid would be successful, but one should always be prepared for bad outcomes and he didn't want it to end like this, was it to be a bad outcome. "Jake, stop." The way his name rolled off your lips hurt. You never called him by his name before, not even when the two of you met. "Let's talk, please." His grip on the reins tightened. He felt sick to his stomach the closer they got to the transported goods. He didn't know why, but he felt his stomach churn. Something inside him told him to talk to you, now. "If this is about Neteyam then-" "Later." You cut him off. You couldn't talk about how you felt, not now. Not when you were about to enter a warzone. You almost chuckled at the mention of your little brother. You wished it was only about him. If it was, then you could have found an easier way to fix this mess. But this was also about you. You stole their dad and husband away for the past few days. You worsened the relationship between a father and his sons. You're ripping the family apart by intruding, you don't belong in that family. You don't belong. You bit your lip so hard until you tasted the metallic on your tastebuds. Meanwhile Jake Sully sighed in frustration, knowing he had to push this conversation back to after the raid.

If everything went well that is.

"Attack!!!" Jake Sully pulled at the reins, rushing over towards a helicopter that turned around. The train that transported the goods just exploded and went up into flames, which was the queue for the direhorses to emerge from the shadows. Your father got extremely close to the helicopter, flying sideways. Just as the helicopter was about to point its guns at you, you jumped off Bob, right onto the glass as you plunged your sharpened katana through the glass. It hit the man into the vehicle, killing him instantly. Before the helicopter could explode you jumped into the air, away from the explosion. You didn't feel the slightest bit surprised when an arm wrapped around your waist. Your father moved his grip to your wrist, as you were much lighter than a Na'vi this tactic worked perfectly with you. "I'm going to throw you, okay?" You just nodded in response as he swung his arm and threw you like you were a feather, right into the window of a helicopter. You already held your katana in front of you, hitting the human on impact as he was knocked out. You were hanging onto the helicopter that slowly descended. You were waiting for your father to fly right under you to catch you, but you didn't notice that a helicopter was pointing its guns right at you, obviously seeing you as a threat. "(Y/N)!!" Jake's voiced cracked as he screamed. He couldn't load his gun in time, or stop the helicopter in time. Even if he did try to hit it, you would already be hit. Then an arrow flew through the air at an inhumane speed, shooting the helicopter down. Jake quickly flew your way as he grabbed you from the descending helicopter, with your katana and all. You looked to where the arrow came from and saw a familiar Ikran. It was Neytiri. You silently thanked her in your head, hoping that your gratefulness would reach her. You intruded her family, yet she still decided to save you. "Are you okay?!" Jake put you in front of you, right on his lap as he checked your outfit for any deep cuts. You slightly pushed him away, "I'm fine, really." You tried your best to calm him down. He was the Olo'eyktan after all, he needed to keep watch at his people, not only worry about you. You were a big girl after all, a warrior. Yet in his eyes, you were still his little girl. You looked around the sky, searching for your baby bro's. You knew they were spotters, so they should be somewhere here. Then you saw it, two familiar Ikrans descending to the ground. You squinted your eyes as you tried to see who the two figures were. That's when it hit you, you're baby bro's. "Jake land!!!" You frantically screamed as you tried to get off his Ikran. "What is up w-" "LAND FOR CHRISTS SAKE!!" You needed to get them out of there, no matter what. Jake just obeys. He needed to get down there anyway to see how the ground teams were doing. He would keep you in his sight though. You immediately jumped off his Ikran, sprinting through the swarm of Na'vi as you ran towards your babies. You ran past Raja, who looked at you with a confused expression as she noticed you. This wasn't your position, so she felt flabbergasted as you never disobeyed orders, but she couldn't let that linger into her mind as she focused on her task. "Lo'ak!! Neteyam!" You noticed how a Na'vi passed a gun to Lo'ak. He waved it around in the air, showing it off to Neteyam. You finally got to them, grabbing it out of his hands, "what are you doing here?!? Are you okay?!?" You frantically looked for any injuries, but Lo'ak just ruffled your hair as he took the gun back, "we are okay silly sis!!" "No Lo'ak! We need to get back to the sky! We are spotters!"

"Watch out!! Enemies incoming!!!" A Na'vi yelled the words through the air and a huge helicopter turned the corner, loaded with missiles and all. You grabbed your brothers' hands and pulled them with you, "we gotta run! Run!!" Even though your legs were short, your stamina was amazing. Fortunately, you could keep up with your much taller brothers that way. Jake watched the scene unfold from afar and he didn't wait a second to sprint towards you, pushing everyone that was in his way to the side. "Missile!!!" Someone screamed as a ton of missiles were shot their way. You looked behind you as your eyes widened, one was directly coming your way. And it would hurt your siblings. Without thinking, you pushed your brothers away, making them fall and roll over. You prayed to Eywa to keep them safe as you braced for impact.

Screams.

Blacked out.

Nothing.

"Babygirl!! Babygirl!!" Jake took your limp body in his arms. The tears were rolling down his cheeks as he watched your lifeless body, your eyes rolled back to your skull, "Eywa please, don't do this to me. I'm so sorry for my sins. I'm so sorry for everything. Please don't take her away from me, please." Yet his pleas weren't answered as he cried in your bleeding chest.

Nothing is what it seems.

Thank you so much for reading, this is so long what the hell. I was lowkey insecure about posting this one. I hope you enjoyed and lmk what you thought! <3 THIS IS NOT THE END.

Taglist in the comments!!

#dad!jake sully #dad!jake sully x reader #jake sully #jake sully x daughter!reader #neteyam #sully family #sully family x reader #dad! jake sully #dad!jake x daughter!reader #jake sully x human!reader #jake sully x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #neteyam x reader

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powermakar · 1 month

Text

This is me Trying - LS2

A/N: I feel so bad for Logan after what has happened. Please don't send any type of hate to Alex.

Summary: James tells Logan that he won't be racing on Sunday and everything goes down hill.

Logan Sergeant x female!reader

Warnings: panic attacks and some swearing

I just wanted you to know that this is me trying, at least I'm trying.

“-so you won’t be able to drive this weekend”

“What?”

“Alex is going to be driving your car this weekend since his car is severely damaged.”

“Oh, okay,” Logan felt numb. He couldn’t feel his hands shaking, but he could see them physically shaking.

“I know it’s a lot but the team really needs this Logan. Thank you for doing this,” James said before walking off.

Logan began to feel himself lose touch with reality. It was a feeling he was beginning to feel comfortable with. I mean at this point it was happening every race weekend now, so he just HAD to get comfortable with it. At first, he didn’t know what it was, maybe he was just getting sick; but after a few times and some Google searches, he figured out what it was.

Panic attacks.

No one knew that he experienced them. Not James, not his trainer, not Oscar; hell, his own girlfriend did not know that he got them. He had to get out of there fast so no one found out. God, he couldn't even imagine what the media would do if it became public knowledge.

Tears and ragged breaths while hidden in the corners of his driver’s room became his go-to when he didn’t know what else to do. This time it felt different though. The sobs were louder and his vision was blurrier, he felt weak. He felt stupid. How could someone fuck up so badly and he still would get punished. He knew life wasn’t fair and he knew that Formula 1 wasn’t fair either.

But fuck, it wasn’t fair. At all.

The knock on the door did not register the first time, nor the second or third. He only realized someone entered the room when he felt someone’s hand on his shoulder.

You, the love of his life, was seeing him at the lowest he had ever been. Gasps in between sobs were loud and short, and Logan felt embarrassed. He felt shameful and afraid. He couldn’t breathe and he was scared for his future.

“It’s not fair, it's not fair, it’s just not fucking fair. I'm trying. I’m trying so fucking hard. Can’t you see that? Can’t anyone see that,” he babbled out.

“Logan I- I know that this is hard, you worked so hard. You deserve to be driving, you shouldn’t be placed on the back burner because someone made a mistake. You’ve worked so hard for so long and it kills me to see you like this. Have you thought about how Alex may-,” Logan cut you off before you could say anything else.

“No, no. Do not even start with Alex. I know he’s better, I know I am a liability, but I know I can try to be better,” he got up suddenly. He felt lightheaded, he felt dizzy. Stumbling around his room trying to get away from you. “I finally out-performed him and it just gets ripped out from underneath me. Literally,” Logan laughs bitterly. He didn’t care what he looked like now, he probably looked like a madman, but who the hell cares anymore?

“Logan- please just listen to me. Alex probably feels like shit. Yes he crashed his car but it's not his fault the team gave him your car. It's the team,” she pauses “It’s- it’s James’ fault.”

“I don’t care whose fault it is. I just care about the fact that this is probably going to be one of the last times I'm going to be in F1. My time is going to get cut short, no one has any faith in me anymore. I don’t blame them though, I’m failing and I'm terrified,” Logan says. He could finally breathe normally but he could still feel his heart pounding in his ears.

He didn’t understand any of it. How could he be failing so badly at something he used to be so good at? He glanced back at you, ready to face the disappointment he knew you secretly hid.

“Just tell me you can’t stand me anymore. Tell me that I embarrass you. Tell me that you hate me. Tell me that you are disappointed in me. Please just tell me, please.”

“Logan-,” you were in shock. You never knew that he felt like this, about himself. He hid it so well, almost to the point where it was impressive. “You know I could never say any of those things to you. I love you so, so much and I'm so proud of you,”

Both of you heard a knock on the door and one of William’s PR managers called out, “Media in 10, Logan!”

How they expected him to go out into the media pen and act like everything was fine was beyond you. Reaching up to cup his face in your hands, you quickly wipe away a stray tear that fell at your confession. Logan gently squeezed your wrist and smiled sadly. A silent, but meaningful conversation.

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #williams formula 1 #williams racing #williams f1 #williams #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant fluff

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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months

Text

THIS WAS MY BAD I FUCKED UP ANON I'M SORRY

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Brief mention of Y/N not having control over her own life

Description: 👆⬆️

It took a lot for Alastor to be nervous about something, like A LOT

He wasn't nervous to start his radio show, he wasn't scared to sing in front of a crowd or dance with a stranger

But meeting your father has his mind in shambles, he's never been so nervous in his entire life

Every negative quality he can think of is coming to the forefront of his mind and making a home there

Not even asking you out made him feel this anxious

Okay so that was a fucking lie

He's heard all about your father from you, knows how close the two of you are-now he knows how you felt meeting his mother

Your father made you the woman you are today, and all of your best qualities were apparently cultivated by your father, according to you anyways

But he plays it cool when you ask him to meet your father, giving you a charming smile and confident response

"It's about time you asked me that, my dear~"

Hugs you from behind and buries his face in your neck so that you don't see the panic in his eyes

Pretends like he's not worried about it whenever you bring it up but as his S/O you pick up on his mannerisms

He's often distracted, getting lost in his own thoughts, doesn't hear what you're saying, messing up food he normally makes with ease

It's different for him, to him meeting your father makes the possibility of losing you feel more real

If your father doesn't approve of him then not only would you be disappointed but he could keep you from seeing Alastor

And nobody would question it, nobody would ask what YOU want, a girl's father knows what best for her

Then you two would have to elope which wouldn't be the worst thing but you deserve more-

"Alastor..? Are you sure you want to do this?"

He immediately relaxes at the sound of your voice, turning to give you a reassuring smile and kissing your forehead

"Of course, my dear~! What sort of a man would I be if I was too scared to face your father?"

Oh, he's scared of making a bad impression

He leans into your touch as you place soft hands over his cheeks, smiling at him in a way that makes him feel childish for being nervous

"Oh darling, you have nothing to worry about...I'll protect you~"

"Very funny..."

"I'm serious! He will love you, you're very hard not to love~"

Your gentle embrace on his arm keeps him grounded throughout the entire walk to see your father

Maybe he nuzzles your head to give you affection, or maybe he does it because your scent relaxes him

Alastor is hilariously stiff when you two enter the restaurant, tensing up as you approach your father

He's handsome for a man his age but the way he carries himself with kindness and pride reminds Alastor of you

The old man's eyes light up and happiness envelopes his features as he takes notice of you, standing to meet you

The love between you and your father is painfully obvious, this here is a man who would die to protect his daughter

Something he and Alastor have in common

Then suddenly, a switch flips in him once you go to hug your father, no longer is he your nervous boyfriend

"Papa, this is the man I've been telling you about, this is Al-"

"Alastor! Pleasure to meet you, sir! Quite a pleasure! Might I just say you've raised an exceptional young woman!"

This is Alastor, the charming radio host who is utterly mesmerizing and able to talk his way out of any situation

The Alastor that originally caught your attention and kept it long enough for you to fall for him

He spends the entire lunch charming your father, laying out all his best qualities in the hopes that he's making a good impression

And he definitely is, or at least he seems to be

"Oh Y/N, you didn't tell me that he would be such a gentleman! Wherever did you find him?"

Oh Papa you don't want to know

"Oh you know...we just bumped into each other-"

"She immediately had my heart in her pocket from the first moment we met! I was wrapped around her little finger and didn't even know it until it was too late!"

Now you're blushing, Alastor's words, along with him pulling you into a loving hug, making you feel flustered

He may have been busy trying to impress your father, but he didn't forget who he was doing it for, making sure to pay attention to you

He couldn't ignore you even if he tried, kissing your cheek whenever you boasted about him or squeezing your hand when your father embarrassed you

Which he did, your father couldn't help but brag about his darling daughter and every good deed she ever did

All of Alastor's earliest worries are gone, now understanding that your father isn't the type of man to rule over his daughter

Rather the kind to build her up and encourage her to be her own person, loving her for her strengths instead of smothering them

Which makes Alastor respect the man even more than he already did

At one point you leave the table to use the restroom, leaving the two men alone with each other

The mood shifts a little bit, your father suddenly serious and doubtful as he looks Alastor over

"Just what are your intentions with my daughter? She's not the kind of woman who you can just toy with until the next one comes along. My Y/N is too good for a playboy."

Oh, so now it's a serious talk, that's fine, Alastor came here for a serious reason anyways

"I'm no boy, and I don't plan on playing with your daughter's heart, I meant what I said earlier. In fact, I wanted to meet you so that I could ask your permission to not only continue seeing her but to marry her."

Apparently, he said the right thing because your father's eyes widened in surprise for a moment before the warmth flooded back into them

The old man relaxed into his seat and simply nodded at Alastor as you came back, the two men coming to an understanding

The atmosphere at the table becomes much more casual after that, your father and Alastor talking and joking like old friends

It warms your heart to see your boys getting along so well, leaning on Alastor happily

He smiles and rubs noses with you for a moment before going back to the conversation, something that leaves you flustered

And apparently, it makes your father blush too, finding the two of you to be a cute couple

The love you both have for each other radiates more than any sort of PDA would

Your father thinks that Alastor wouldn't be the worst son in law to have, he's charming, hardworking, obviously loves you

Why he's nearly perfect but there's something about him that makes your father think he's dangerous

And maybe he is but as long as Alastor keeps his daughter safe and happy then what does he care?

It's your life after all

Later, when you all get up to leave, your father ignores Alastor's offer of a handshake in favor of hugging him

"If you marry her, then you best not ever leave her, not even in death."

"Not only will I never leave her, I'll do everything in my power to make her happy~"

"Good man, welcome to the family.."

You give your father a loving hug, and he whispers his approval to you, making you tear up and kiss his cheek

Alastor is a little concerned when he sees your glassy eyes but you kiss him happily before he can even ask what's wrong

Presses his forehead to yours once you two finally stop kissing, both of you panting softly

Your smile is so breathtaking, he almost doesn't even hear what you're saying because he's so mesmerized

"I told you that he would love you~"

GAHHHH SORRY THIS TOOK ALL DAY I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

I HAD IT THEN DELETED IT AND HAD TO DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

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bucks-babe · 26 days

Note

I’ve been here before lol. I just had to let you know, your virgin Bucky stories live rent free in my head. I hope one day to see him become… not a virgin 👀 if you feel like writing it of course ❤️

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, loss of virginity, slightly sub Bucky, soft!dom reader, riding, multiple orgasms (both), overstimulation, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (Don’t do that), copious amounts of cum, like so much, Bucky has a big dick, cumming untouched, cumming in boxers, ball riding (I know, there’s something wrong with me), crying during sex (Bucky this time, not reader lol), crying after sex, aftercare, Bucky is so sweet, taking care of Bucky, washing Bucky’s hair (This is a warning), my limited ass vocabulary (It’s a warning), actual brain rot, no use of Y/N, check tags at the bottom

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: This has been in the works for so long but I took so damn long to finish it. I would have never guessed that so many of yall would be so invested in this story and Bucky’s journey. This is not the last you will see of these two, don’t worry. I think we should give them each a nickname. Leave a comment on what each of their names should be. Legit just had them call each other baby this entire fic. If I end up giving them nicknames, I’ll go back and put them in for all their stories. Anyway, enjoy!

As you slowly open your eyes, feeling the warmth and comfort of Bucky's embrace, a sense of safety washes over you. His strong arms are wrapped tightly around you. As you turn to face him, you see that Bucky is already awake, his deep blue eyes gazing at you with adoration and love. You can feel the rhythm of his breathing, steady and soothing against your skin. In this moment, nothing else matters except for the love and contentment you feel in each other's arms

"Good morning," he whispers, his voice husky with sleep. The sunlight filters through the window, casting a gentle glow upon his face, accentuating the lines of worry etched there.

With a small smile, you shift closer to him, reveling in the intimacy of the moment. "Good morning," you reply softly, tracing circles on his chest.

Bucky's fingers instinctively tighten around you, as if afraid to let go. "Last night... I didn't mean to let go like that" he admits shyly, his cheeks flushing a rosy hue. "I didn't know I was into that." Bucky felt embarrassed, not being used to letting go and having someone else take care of him. It was such a foreign feeling, yet he loved it, being able to trust someone completely, trusting you more than he does himself. Your heart swells at his vulnerability.

"Oh Bucky, it's okay. I liked it, I liked taking care of you. There's nothing to be ashamed about."

Bucky's eyes soften, relief flooding his features as he takes in your words. "You liked it?" he asks, his voice tinged with both surprise and hope.

A gentle nod escapes you, your fingers continuing their soothing motion on his chest. "Yes, Bucky. I enjoyed every moment of it," you reassure him, your voice filled with sincerity.

He exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding, a weight lifting off his shoulders. "I've never let myself be vulnerable like that before," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared of losing control."

A tender smile graces your lips as you cup his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. "Bucky, being vulnerable doesn't mean losing control. It means trusting someone enough to let them in, to share yourself completely." Your words carry the weight of understanding and acceptance.

He gazes at you, his blue eyes reflecting a mixture of desire and hesitation. "I don't want to disappoint you, you know? You've been with experienced men before who knew how to pleasure you. I'm not sure if I can do the same for you." The poor thing was terrified of letting you down. He loves you so much, but what if he can’t please you? Would you leave him for someone better? How many people would even want to be with a man who knows almost nothing about pleasing a woman?

Your hand reaches out to cup Bucky's cheek, your thumb brushing across his rough stubble. His skin is warm and soft under your touch. As you sit up, your hand still resting on Bucky's chest, feeling the faster beat of his heart under your palm. His skin is warm and smooth against your fingertips, a reassuring and comforting touch.

"Last night you gave me the most intense orgasm I've ever experienced with a man. Those other men? They think that one trick that worked on one woman will work on every woman. But you, my love? You listened to me and my body, which is more than most men can say."

Your voice softens as you look into Bucky's eyes, seeing the raw emotion and vulnerability that lies within them. "Bucky, I don't want to give you the impression that you're not enough. You were amazing last night, and I’m glad that you trust me enough to share that part of yourself."

His eyes soften, a look of gratitude and relief washing over him. He leans in to kiss your forehead, his hand brushing against your cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips. "Thank you," he whispers, the words feeling like a heavy weight finally lifting off his shoulders. He takes a deep breath, and you can see a newfound confidence and determination in his eyes. "I want to learn, to be better for you. To make you feel the way you felt last night, every time."

A smile tug at the corner of your lips as you lean in to kiss him gently. "I believe in you, Bucky. And I know that you'll learn and grow, just like you did last night. And I’ll be right there to show you how." With a reassuring nod, Bucky pulls you into a deep and passionate kiss, his hands cradling your face. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine.

Slowly, he pulls away from the kiss, leaving behind a trail of electric energy on your lips. "I want to make love to you today," he whispers. "I want to give you everything I have, and show you just how much I care." Your heart swells with love for the man who would give you anything.

“Are you sure, Bucky? We don’t have to do anything that you don’t feel comfortable doing. I’m perfectly fine waiting for you, however long it takes.” You cup his face, staring into his eyes, seeing determination yet anxiety in his eyes. He wants to do this, have you be his first and only, he’s sure of it.

“Yes. I want more, I want everything with you. Last night, making you feel good, it sparked something in me. I want to do it again. Fuck, you looked so sexy when you came.” Just at the thought of the taste of your pussy and the image of you writhing on the bed in pleasure makes his cock throb, filling with blood. The feel of your naked breasts pressed against him is doing nothing to stop it either.

“If you’re sure, baby, we will. You want to follow my lead or experiment by yourself?” The thought of you trusting him enough to let him do whatever he wants to your body makes him whine, bucking his hip into your bare core, the boxers doing little to hinder the feeling on his sensitive dick.

“Want to follow you, please.” As you take the covers of the pair of you, Bucky’s eyes go right to your tits, hands moving on their own accord to cup them. You’re proud that he was comfortable enough to touch you without hesitancy.

You roll onto your back, Bucky following without a second thought, hands still on you, Bucky sits on his knees, admiring the view of your spread pussy. “I want you to finger me. You remember how, baby?” Of course Bucky remembers how, he remembers how much it made you moan and wiggle on the bed, how you were clenching on them when you came, how fucking tight you got. Bucky nods, right hand moving to your pussy. He needs to use his right hand, needs to feel how wet and tight you are.

Thumb moving to your slit, he gathers the wetness that has been pooling there since you felt his hard cock through his boxers and drags it up to your clit, rubbing it just the way you taught him, the small gasp that leaves your lips lets him know he’s doing it right. His eyes can’t leave your pussy, memorized by the wetness leaving it. He trails his middle and ring finger down and slowly enters you, cock somehow getting even harder at your feel.

His metal hand comes down to rub your clit as his fingers speed up, wanting you to cum so fucking bad. “Just like that, baby. You’re doing so fucking well. Making me feel so good.” Bucky can feel his heavy balls pulling up, cum about to burst from his cock, hips thrusting in the air, meeting nothing. Heat creeps up his cheeks, he knows he’s going to cum before you without even touching anything. He wants so fucking bad to jerk his cock, coaxing his huge load out, but he can’t leave your pussy.

You clench tights around him, your orgasm building up as well. Bucky can’t handle it, the way your head hits the pillows, eyes closed in pleasure, moans getting higher in pitch. Within seconds, Bucky’s cock bursts, cum pouring from his tip, immediately soaking the front of his boxers, leaking down until it lands on the bed, his moans louder than yours. At the sound of his pleasure you cum, clit twitching under his fingers, waves upon waves passing through you.

As you come down from your orgasm, you realize that Bucky is still cumming. “Baby, why won’t it stoppp, fuckk, please, feels so fucking good, shitt, please.”At his words the last of him cum dribbles out. The sight of his flushed cheeks and the soaking wet boxers almost makes you cum again. Sitting up, you push Bucky off the bed until he stands, taking off his underwear and pulling him back onto the bed, laying him down.

“You still want to do anything else, baby?” You desperately want to have his cock inside of you, have him cumming that much in your pussy, letting it leak out all over his balls down to the bed, but if he doesn’t want to go any further you’ll stop, no questions asked.

“Oh fuck yes! Want you to ride me please.” The whole of his sentence comes out as a moan, cock still sensitive and hard, ready for you to take it however you please. Straddling him, you grab him lining him up with your pussy. You look at him and at his nod, you start to sit on him. As soon as the tip breaches you, he cums, and he cums hard. “OH SHIT! FUCK, YES! FUCK I’M CUMMING!” He’s practically screaming, but he can’t find it in himself to care, the most intense orgasm of his life coursing through him.

Hands flying to your hips, he pulls you all the way down, bucking into you with so much force you have to grab the headboard. “ OH FUCKING SHIT! DON’T FUCKING STOP! DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” It’s not like you could even if you tried, only option to take his assault, and fuck if it doesn’t feel amazing. Your moans almost match his in volume, pussy still trying to adjust to the size of him, balls slapping against your ass. After a few seconds, you already feel his cum being forced out of you to make room for his cock. His cum now all over both of your sexes, his balls, your ass, and the bed.

His orgasm lasts minutes, the amount of cum leaving his cock never slowing down, hips never stop slamming into yours. During his orgasm, you cum too, the sight was so hot you couldn’t help yourself. When your pussy was clenching around him so tight he somehow got louder. Eventually, he orgasm abated and his hips stopped, laying limb on the bed.

Shame washed over him, at how much he lost himself to his orgasm, how rough he was with you. “I’m so sorry, baby. Please tell me you’re okay. Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

“Fuck, Bucky, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” Bucky’s eyes widen, not expecting you to be so turned on by his orgasm. His cock was still rock hard inside of you, giving you an idea. “What position do you want to do next?” Bucky almost cums again at those words, he knows what he wants, but is almost embarrassed to ask. However, his cock is thinking for him, washing away his inhibitions.

“Can you ride me?” You just smile and start to pick up your hips but he stops you. “From the back.” You throb at that. He wants to watch your ass bounce on him.

You pull off, hissing at the empty feeling and turn around. You grab his cum soaked balls and you feel them twitch in your palm. Pulling them up you turn your head to Bucky. “Do me a favor and close your legs for me.” He doesn’t ask a single question and does so immediately. You let his balls fall on top of his legs and put his cock right back in, not waiting a second to start bouncing, grinding your clit on his slick balls at the end of every bounce.

“Oh, fuck. How does your ass move like that, shit. Looks so sexy.” His hands ghost over your cheeks, not knowing what to do with the sight in front of him.

“Smack my ass, baby.” He groans, and lays a light slap to your right cheek. “Harder, Bucky. Leave your mark on me.” His Oh shit is ignored as he slaps you a little harder, still not hard enough, cock pulsing at the sight of your ass bouncing, feeling it move under his hands. “Don’t be a little pussy, baby. Give it a slap like a fucking man.” Maybe it was a little mean, but you needed to feel his hand coming down on you. His near constant moans get louder, clearing enjoying the degradation. The next slap is hard. “Yes, little harder, baby. Fuck! Just like that, keep going. Don’t stop, want your handprints all week.”

He keeps going, smacking you harder each time. His balls rubbing on your clit pull up and he cums once again. This time, though, he pulls out, jerking his cock, cumming all over your ass. “Fucking shit! Wanted me to mark your fucking ass? Well I’m fucking doing it. Cumming so much. Maybe I’ll just stick my dick in your ass and cum in there too.” You don’t know where that came from, but it makes you ride his balls faster, ass jiggling as he continues to cum on it. “That’s so fucking hot, keeping moving that fat ass on me.” You really don’t know where his dirty mouth is coming from but you don’t care because holy hell is it hot.

Seconds later, Bucky can’t take it anymore and shoves his cock back in your pussy, spreading his legs back out and planting them on the bed so he can fuck up into you. With your ass moving so much with his thrusts, his cum is going everywhere. Bucky lands a hard slap to your cheeks, smacking his cum into them, spreading it all around.

Just like before, he cums for minutes, cum flowing out of your pussy. The entire of both of your hips and your ass and the bed is completely drenched with his cum. When he’s done he pulls you off his cock and spins you around so you’re facing him again. “Baby, my cock is still so fucking hard, I don’t know what to do.” You coo at him, setting your hand against his cheek.

“Don’t worry, baby, I got you.” Instead of slipping his cock back into you, you grind against it, with every roll of your hips his sensitive tip rubs your clit. “Does this feel good, baby?”

“Uh huh, so good.” You see his adam's apple bob and his bottom lip wobble. The feral part of his brain that was fucking you earlier is gone, now your sweet boyfriend is left. He’s not even looking at the way his tip pops out between your folds, no, he’s staring right into your eyes. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against him, every part of your body touching his in some way.

You rest your forehead against his and meet his gaze, tears spilling over and running down the sides of his face. You gently wipe them away but they keep coming. One of his hands goes in between your bodies pushing his cock back inside its home, your warm walls enveloping every inch, both of you gasping. Bucky can’t decide if he wants to keep going or stop, a twinge of pain biting its way up his cock, but you just feel too good. He can’t leave your pussy, needing to cum one last time. The slow grind of your hips never speeds up, gently fucking him, no, making love to him.

Bucky tries to kiss you but the pleasure you’re giving leaves him putty in your hands. The kiss is sloppy and wet, but one of the best kisses you’ve ever had, feeling the words neither of you can get out at the moment. The hairs at the base of his cock rub your clit, building up your final orgasm, Bucky not long behind, trying to hold out for you.

“You’re okay, baby. Want you to cum for me, not far behind.” Any restraint left in Bucky’s body disappears, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he cums for the last time.

“Fuckkk, baby, love you so much, please, I need you to cum for me. Need it so bad.” The slow roll of his tears before shifts to full on sobs, pleasure too much. You pull yourself off his cock, knowing that it’s now too much for him. “No, no, I need you to cum, please.” Your hand trails down your body, fingers rubbing your clit, the sight of you makes Bucky whine, and pull you down into a kiss, where you cum, moaning into his mouth.

You roll the both of you over, placing Bucky’s head on your chest, lightly scratching his scalp, tracing shapes on his back with your other hand. When his tears subside, Bucky is the first to speak. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

You feel a lump form in your throat. Of course you would always take care of him. There is nothing that you wouldn’t do for him. “I love you so much, Bucky. I could never hurt you, only want to give you the best in life. After all you’ve done for me, it’s the least I could do.” Bucky doesn’t say anything after that, not knowing what to say, not being used to such unbridled love.

A few minutes pass before the amount of cum and sweat surrounding you gets uncomfortable. “Come on, baby, lets get cleaned up.” Bucky whines but complies anyway. “Get the shower started for me? I’ll change the bed.” He nods and heads to the shower. You work as fast as you can to get the sheets off and a fresh set on. Still naked you run to the washroom and throw the soiled sheets in the wash and start it before running back to the bathroom.

Bucky is waiting outside of the shower for you, eyes still red from crying, almost shying away from you. Grabbing his hand you lead him into the hot water. “You did so good for me, Bucky. Made me feel incredible. You know, if that was your first time, I’m going to need help from the gods to handle you when you practice more.” That gets a small smile from him. “Don’t get all bashful on me, big man, after you rocked my world back there.”

“Stop it, baby.” His words hold no heat to them, secretly loving your complements. “You did too, rocked my world, you know? Didn’t know it could feel that good. There isn’t anyone else I would rather do that with.” He’s going to make you cry one of these days, saying all this sweet shit to you, and you know he means every single word of it.

“Yeah? How do you feel? Feel okay? I know that was a lot for you.” He dips his head down when you reach for his shampoo, letting you wash his hair, then grabbing the soap and lathering the wash cloth, running it along his body. At the feeling of your soft hands on his body, taking care of him after he gave himself over to you, Bucky can’t respond, too caught up in your love. “Bucky?” Your hands stop, fearing the worst at his silence.

“Feel so good, baby. I…” Bucky chokes up, tears resurfacing. He doesn’t know why he’s crying. You pull him to you, hugging him until he stops. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just, you make me feel so safe, I can’t control myself, I just feel, you know?” You know because he makes you feel the same way.

“Yeah, I do, baby, I do.”

“Can I wash you?” After you took care of him, Bucky wants to do the same for you, never wanting you to feel like he was using you. You nod and Bucky takes extra care to get all of his cum off of you, cleaning you up just like you did to him. By the time you’re done in the shower, the water’s cold. Bucky takes a towel and wraps you up first. Before he can reach for his, you take it and dry him off.

“What do you want to do now? We can cuddle, get something to eat, watch a movie, whatever you want.” You know how important aftercare is, especially when Bucky was feeling so vulnerable after his first time.

“Can we just cuddle?” He looks almost scared to ask you for such a simple gesture.

“Of course we can.” Taking your hand, Bucky leads you to the bed, foregoing clothes. You pull the blankets up and let him rest his head on your chest, listening to the beat of your heart and steady breathing. Not too long after you hear his light snoring and know he’s asleep, you following soon after in the arms of the love of your life, excited to experience all of Bucky’s firsts with him, seeing him grow, not only in experience, but also confidence.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky smut #sebastian stan x reader #virgin!bucky #Virgin!bucky barnes #Omg this took me so fucking long to finish #thank you for the ask because it gave me the motivation to finish #Sorry to make you guys wait so damn long #Love you all #If you're still reading this drink some water

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gisellaswrld · 5 months

Text

every night you’ll hold me and tell me i’m much more than my past; oh how i wish i could believe

lh43 | after a phone call from your father, you end up losing yourself. yet luke is there to pick up the pieces, as he always is.

(a/n — this is one of my heavier pieces. i’m not at all intending to glorify this situation. i wrote this during a very hard time for me, when i just needed some comfort. know your limits before reading.)

Luke stared at the mess in front of him. The scattered broken glass that was mixed in with the clothes and papers sat on the floor. Tears were spilling down your covered face, your body curled up on the floor. You didn't even know Luke had gotten back. This wasn't the first time this happened, it was at least the third or fourth.

It wasn't some spontaneous breakdown, you only got this way when something bad triggered you. You weren't the type of person someone had to walk on eggshells around, nervous to say the wrong thing. Years of therapy kept your emotions at bay. Yet, tonight ruined you.

Luke was worried, even just staring at you made his skin crawl. You looked absolutely empty, drained of color and emotion. It was like you were in a coma, no thoughts in your mind.

Luke, at this point, had two choices. Either he got scared from your mental disorders, or he stayed and helped you. And unlike all of your previous significant others, he stayed.

"Y/N, baby?" You were startled by the boy, jumping slightly at his voice. "What happened?" Luke's voice was in a quieter tone.

You finally lifted your head, eyes still focused on the mess. This was then that Luke realized the blood that was dripping from your hands. His breath hitched, mentally disappointed at himself for not seeing the signs.

Luke was too busy invested in hockey that he didn't realize the lack of dishes when he arrived home late at night. He didn't notice the way you was picking at your lips until they bled. Luke didn't realize the long showers you took, or how steamed the bathroom was when you got out. He didn't fucking realize.

That made him even more disappointed in himself than hockey ever could.

"Baby, what happened?" He asked once more, taking a step closer to you.

"I-," You paused, shaking your head. Your eyes still avoided eye contact with him.

Luke took a deep breath. He moved around the pile of clutter. You were nervous, anxious for his reaction. You was used to people leaving you to pick up the messes you would make in their life. They were usually too scared to deal with the after math.

That's what made Luke different from the rest. Luke always stayed to put the pieces back together, calming your mind to a sense of ease. Luke always told you he loved you, but his actions always spoke louder.

Luke bent down next to you, gently grabbing your bleeding hands. The blood and small cuts must be from the miscellaneous glass shards on the ground.

"Can I?" He spoke softly, seemingly unnerved from the situation. You just nodded in reply.

Luke wrapped his arms around you, picking your limp body up off the ground. You stayed silent, your focus now on the blood that poured from your hands. You really had no idea what happened, everything felt like a black hole in your memories. Your brain felt empty, a lack of any knowledge.

Luke carried you into the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilet seat. He opened the cabinet beneath the sink, grabbing a wash cloth. Luke drenched the cloth in warm water, ready to tend to your wounds.

You kept your hands in her lap, palms up. All you could think about is what happened earlier. How could you not remember a thing? It's like you blacked out entirely. Nothing made sense, nothing clicked in your brain.

Luke kneeled in front of you, pressing the warm cloth to your hands. You flinched, the cuts burning from the pressure. The pain enough was electric zap to your brain, slowly bringing it back to life. The touch from Luke was another zap.

"Baby, I'm not going to ask. I just need to know what you're thinking." Luke kept his voice at a normal tone. He didn't want to get loud, he didn't want to make you fear him. Luke didn't want you to think he was mad or angry. Luke just wanted to know.

"I don't know." Your voice was hoarse, causing Luke to look up at you. He could tell that you were clueless at what your own brain made you do. That chipped at his heart, his own brain swirling on how to take care of you.

"It's okay." He spoke, still dabbing the cloth on the wounds. The blood had been cleaned up, some wounds still slowly trickling with the red substance. He couldn't see any visible shards of the glass.

On the outside, you were such a happy girl. Everyone on social media loved you, you weren't often receiving hate. People could tell the impact you put on Luke's life, the positive impact. But on the inside, you had deep rooted trauma that ruined you.

"Did you hurt yourself anywhere else?" He asked, nervous for your answer. Luke cleared his throat, tossing the cloth into the sink.

You finally looked into his eyes. You could see the worry that flashed in his eyes as you couldn't give him a clear answer. You dug at your brain for answers, fighting for any sort of memory from the previous hours.

"Luke, I don't know." You answered, truthfully, darting your vision away from his once again.

Luke slowly nodded, staying silent. The silence between them was tense, at least you thought it was. Luke wanted to know what happened, you were worried he'd leave. Tears started to sting Luke's eyes as he rolled up the hoodie sleeves. His body burned with a sad, heavy feeling.

As he seen the opened scars that he once watch heal, his heart broke. Luke could've helped prevent this. If he wasn't go focused on that damn sport, he would've been able to see that his girlfriend was struggling. He could've seen everything. Luke was so disappointed in himself, unsure of what to think in the moment.

Luke's mind worked irrationally, quickly. He stood from where he was kneeling and left the bathroom.

Outside the bedroom, Jack was sitting at the kitchen counter. He knit his brows together in confusion, looking at his brothers sad look. Jack was somewhat knowledgeable as to what can rarely happen.

"You good?" Jack asked, his eyes peering at Luke.

"Yeah, yeah. Y/N just - something happened. I don't know what yet." Luke answered, digging in his hockey bag.

Luke leaving left you in a state of shock. A familiar lump reappeared in your throat. The sobs that were once silenced by the comfort of Luke, had reappeared as you brought your knees back up to her chest. Though it was normal, you thought for once maybe Luke would stay. You thought Luke was different, but he left.

Luke, on the other hand, had just left the bathroom to regain his focus. The focus that was to help the girl he loved. He moved swiftly, searching his hockey bag for the first aid kit that he was required to have. He thought it was a stupid requirement, considering if they got hurt there was an athletic trainer that tended to the injury. But now? He was thankful he had that stupid thing.

Luke found the plastic box and rushed back to the bathroom. That's where he seen that you were now sobbing. Luke set the box on the sink.

"Hey, it's okay." Luke sat back down in front of you, placing a comforting hand onto your thigh.

You removed your head from your body, coming to the realization that Luke was still here. He hadn't left, yet. Luke was still there to help you, his love showing more and more.

"I need to see your arms so I can clean them, please." Luke asked calmly, opening the first aid kit. He dumped the supplies onto the ground, searching for the right items

Luke reached out for one of your arms, which you hesitantly gave to him. Luke rolled up your sleeve, watching as you looked away from the fresh cuts. He opened an antiseptic wipe, ready to clean the cuts.

"This is going to burn, you know this will burn. Just try to breathe for me baby, okay?" Luke squeezed your hand in comfort, you nodded as a reply.

Luke pressed the wipe to the wounds. You hissed at the burn, trying to find something other than the pain to focus on. You had racked your mind as you tried to comprehend what had sent you on this spiral. The harsh pain on your arms were quickly bringing your brain back to life. A gasp fell from your lips.

You remembered it all. You were watching Luke and Jack on ESPN, unable to go to the game due to the homework you had. Your homework and the game had been forgotten when you received that phone call. There it was, your dad had called you. He was reminding you of how shitty it was of you to leave him struggling. Reminding you that boyfriends aren't forever and that family was. Your dad didn't forget to insult you, either.

In fact, he called you every derogatory name in the book.

"My dad called me." You stated, voice quiet.

Luke's eyes flickered up to yours, realizing that your brain was coming back to life. "What did he say?" Luke continued cleaning your arm until all the dried blood was gone.

"The normal." Simple sentence that carried a heavy meaning. Luke knew what 'the normal' was when it came to your father. The normal wasn't a civil conversation. The normal was your father full blown screaming at you until you broke. It reminded Luke of the many times he'd rushed to get you after your dad argued with you.

Luke didn't answer, he just took the other arm into his hands and cleaned the wounds on that arm. The silence was more comfortable now that there was less confusion. When Luke finally finished cleaning all your fresh wounds, he threw everything away. The small trash bin in the bathroom was now overfilled with medical supplies, antiseptic wipes, and bandage wrappers.

"I'll get you clothes to change into, you can take a bath and lay down. I'll clean up the room." Luke stated, standing up in front of her. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

"No, I'll clean it, I made the mess." You responded, feeling suddenly guilty for the fact he had to pick up your mess. You hated that Luke had to deal with your mess, your baggage. It was an insecurity from the first time something bad happened in your life while you were dating Luke.

Luke quickly shook his head, starting to run a bath for you. You were still curled up on the toilet seat, your hoodie now on the ground. Luke went back into the bedroom, grabbing a new sweatshirt and pants for you. He placed them on the sink.

"I'll wait out here, come out when you're done." Luke pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, turning towards the exit.

"Luke?" He paused, turning back to face you.

"Thank you."

Luke left his bedroom, going out the the main room where Jack was now watching film on the iPad. Jack looked up at Luke, patting the spot on the couch next to him. Luke collapsed onto the couch, burying his face in his hands.

"How bad was it this time?" Jack asked, setting the iPad next to where you left your laptop.

"Not the worst one." Luke replied, running his hands down his face. "Her dad called her again, I'm probably going to make her change her number or something."

"That's for the best, probably." Jack answered, watching his brother. Jack leaned over, patting Luke on the back. "You are doing good, Luke. Many people would've ran away after that. You really love her, kid."

"I do, I really do."

Luke had gone back to the room, quickly cleaning up the mess of glass and letters. He recognized the letters as ones you kept from when you were a kid. From when your dad was still in prison. Luke didn't want to keep them, but he did. Even though your dad was a shitty person, the letters meant a lot to you.

Luke laid down on the bed, using the remote to turn on the TV. Luke turned on your favorite show, waiting for you to be done in the bathroom.

A few moments passed, you sluggishly walking out from the bathroom. Luke quickly turned his head to look at you. You laid down next to him in the bed. His arms quickly slid around you, pulling you close to his body. He placed a kiss to the top of your head, smoothing down your hair.

"I'm sorry, Luke." You apologized, hiding your face from him.

"Baby, it's okay. You know I won't get mad about it. I'm always going to help you through this shit." Luke quickly replied, his hands now holding your face in his hands.

"I just feel so guilty. You already have so much stress from hockey, I don't want to add to the stress." You admitted, a single tear falling down your cheek.

"Y/N, you don't stress me out. I love you, and this is just something that comes with loving you. I would rather stay here and help you than run away from this. This is something I can handle, something I've always been able to handle. Okay? We don't have to talk about this right now, baby, you need to sleep."

"I love you, Luke." You mumbled, cuddling further into his body.

Luke pressed another kiss to your head, watching as you fell asleep. You had a hold so strong on Luke. A hold that no one has ever been able to break or alter. A hold that would last forever through it all.

#nhl #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey #luke hughes #hockey imagines #lukehughes #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes fic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes angst #luke hughes oneshot #jack hughes

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night-daily · 7 months

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I thought I'd lost you forever | Roronoa Zoro x fem! reader

summary: After Zoro it's defeated on a duel, he's hurted badly and no one knows if he'll recover.

warnings: ep 5 and 6 spoilers, one piece live action, hurt/comfort

a/n: im obsessed with Zoro ngl :]

You were at the Baratie kitchen with Zeff and Sanji, ranting about your discussion with Zoro, just to make sure you weren't overreacting but they knew better than not take part because well, you were pretty mad and they didn't want you to pick up your rage on them.

Just remembering the discussion makes your blood boil.

You and Luffy walked into the room where Zoro, Nami, and Ussop were. All of them turn to see the two of you, “Hey crew!” , Luffy says but none of them replies, and your smile falters. What was going on? The vibe in the room was so tense.

“Zoro challenged Mihawk to a duel”, You were shocked. What was he thinking? He was even thinking?

Nami asked Luffy to convince Zoro to not fight Mihawk but he didn't do it, instead, he supported Zoro to fight the duel. You make eye contact with Zoro, shaking your head clearly disappointed. You turned yourself ready to leave but before you got the chance, his voice made you stop on track.

“What? You think I can't win?” You observed his face, trying to figure him out but he wasn't showing any emotion. “If you wish to die today, then go ahead, I'm no one to stop you” , Please don't go, If something happens to you I will lose my mind, that's what you wanna to say.

“You're right, you're no one” , You're everything to me, that's what he wanted to say and it was true. You're his world and Zoro has tried to make you know it but you're too oblivious to notice it and he's scared to tell you his feelings not because you may reject him, because he thinks he'll ruin your friendship. “I have to become the world's greatest swordsman” “I know but—” “No, you don't know how it feels like, you don't even have a dream.” Your brows furrowed, of course, you had a dream like everyone else, in fact, the only one you had told about your dream was Zoro, and you trusted him so much but here was he now, using it against you, it made you feel sick. “Fuck you, Zoro, maybe Mihawk won't kill you but your pride is.”

After that you stormed out of the room, his eyes following you with a heavy feeling in his chest.

⚔ ⚔ ⚔ ⚔

“So I was wrong?” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Of course not, love” Sanji answered, Zeff rolled his eyes knowing what was he doing. “You know? I would never hurt you like—”

“MY FRIEND NEEDS HELP” Luffy burst into the kitchen yelling.

The anger left your body being replaced by worry. You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, heading to Going Merry without thinking twice. Sanji, Zeff, and Luffy going after you, you arrived and saw Zoro's body, his chest covered with blood and a serious wound. Your breathing was unstable and your body trembling, everything was blurry to you as Zeff treated his wounds faster and you couldn't help but think this was your fault.

“You gotta talk to him, make him stay here, in this world” You all nodded and thanked him for his help. Sanji decided to stay there to cook, Luffy, Ussop and you were sitting across him talking, well, they talking and you tried to focus on the conversation but your mind wandered thinking about Zoro.

While Sanji was cooking, Luffy was the first to move, ready to head to the room where Zoro was.

“Can I...?” Their heads turned to see you. You cleared your throat “Can I talk to him first, please?” Luffy hesitated for a second and he was about to refuse you but Sanji cut him off, “Ladies first” you murmured a thank you, walking to the room, behind you, you heard your captain asking them why he had to let you to talk Zoro first if he wanted to talk him too.

“Because they need it, they're more than friends” Ussop responds with a smirk on his face, which makes Luffy more confused, “They're best friends?” Sanji and Ussop laughed at him shaking their heads.

You closed the door behind you. Sitting on a chair that was next to him. Your eyes fell on his wound and instantly felt an overwhelming wave of guilt crash onto you. “I really don't want to lose you, so you better wake up” you hold his hand intertwining your fingers. “'cause I'm not gonna let you die” His breathing was slow but steady “When I said all that stuff earlier, I didn't mean it” Your eyes welled up with tears, replaying your last conversation with him in your mind.

Lost in your thoughts you didn't even feel when Zoro intertwined his fingers around yours. Then he squeezed your hand softly. While your heart was pounding in your chest. “did you miss me?” forgetting about his wound, you hugged him tight “you idiot! never do that again, I thought I'd lost you forever” He groaned painfully. “Sorry, sorry! I'm so sorry Zoro This is—” “Don't you even dare to say this was your fault, because it's not” you opened your mouth. He sent you a death glare. “Before I passed out, do you know what my only regret was?” He looked right into your eyes. “To not have the opportunity to beg for your forgiveness, what I said about your dream, it was wrong and I'm sorry, I will work to regain your trust, I promise” He brings your hand to his mouth, giving it a gentle kiss.

Something was different now and you both knew it, you were eager to know what the future would hold for the two of you.

#opla #roronoa zoro live action #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro #one piece live action

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auteurdelabre · 20 days

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SO MUCH TO LOSE - CHAPTER 8 - Dark!Joel x f!Reader

rating is 18+ folks! words: 6.8k pairing: dark!Joel x f!Reader tags: Mentions of past trauma (Sarah death), Dan Brown, sexual tension, mentions of alcohol, Joel has PTSD. NO use of y/n. A/N: I got some amazing comments here and on A03 where one user breaks down each chapter and highlights what they liked with hilarious commentary and I'll be honest its what has me tip tapping away so quick! Please be sure to spread the love and leave a comment! masterlist here --------------------

Chapter 8: Shoulder to Shoulder

You're halfway through your latest acquisition, The DaVinci Code, a book Jennifer lent you last week. You're so engrossed in a world so unlike your own that you're startled when Ellie slaps herself across from you at the table, barking out your name.

"When are we baking?"

"I gave Joel the list the last time I saw him," you tell her honestly. "As soon as he has the ingredients we can do it."

Ellie sighs, slumping in irritation.

"Who knows when that'll be," she groans. "He takes forever to do stuff."

You watch as her posture suddenly stiffens, her eyes peering over your shoulder.

"What's wrong?"

"Dina." Ellie sneers. "She's so annoying."

Your glance over your shoulder to see Dina laughing with a group of teens. Your eyes dart back to Ellie's face to see her cheeks are flushed and she's still staring over your shoulder.

"Ellie, have you ever heard the saying that there's a fine line between love and hate?"

"No."

"When I was your age it was the people that I pretended not to like that I actually did," you tell her sagely. Ellie wrinkles her nose.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I wonder if you might have feelings for Dina," you say softly. "Romantic feelings."

You don't want to scare her, but you also can sense that there's something there.

"She's a girl," Ellie laughs, but her smile is flat.

"So?"

"So I'm a girl," Ellie tells you as if you're dim.

"Girls can like girls."

Judging by the way Ellie stares at you, this concept is either foreign to her or she doesn't want to share this part of herself with you just yet.

You see the way Ellie squirms in her seat, her cheeks pinking and you decide to drop the subject. You go back to your book, chewing your oatmeal slowly. You feel Ellie's eyes on you.

"Could you come over this week anyway?" She asks, eyes wide. "We could make those paper flowers like you made for Maria?"

The thought of being in Joel's home so close to your last interaction with him makes you work hard to hold back your grimace.

"Why don't you come to mine?" You ask, trying to sound neutral. "I have all the supplies there."

"Okay, I'll tell Joel," Ellie is smiling brightly. "And maybe-"

Before she can finish you hear your name being called. Ellie's scowl is back as she watches Jennifer round on the table, her tray filled with eggs, oatmeal and tea. Behind her is Luke is giving you both a shy smile.

"Morning guys," Jennifer says brightly. "Mind if we join you?"

"I'll let you know when Joel gets the stuff," Ellie mutters to you, preparing to stand. "See you later."

"You don't have to leave," Jennifer insists in a saccharine tone you just know Ellie despises.

Ellie mutters about needing to get to school, sliding off the bench seat and moving past Jennifer who tries to throw a smile her way.

"Bye Ellie."

Jennifer slides her tray across from you, slumping into her seat, obviously disappointed. Luke takes the empty bench seat next to her, his eyes on his food.

"She hates me," Jennifer says with a frown.

"Nah she's just shy," you lie, not wanting Jennifer's feelings to be hurt. She gives you a knowing smile before looking at the novel in your hands.

"You enjoying the book?"

"Yeah, thanks for lending it to me," you say with a smile.

"I liked his first one Angels and Demons,” Luke offers gently when he sees what you’re reading, his voice a husky murmur. You like how he doesn't quite meet anyone's eyes when he talks. It's endearing.

"I’ve never read his stuff before,” you offer. “Not particularly good writing, but it’s nice to read about somewhere that isn’t all raiders and clickers.”

Jennifer watches the two of you as she sips her tea, her light eyes volleying between the two of you as you talk about the book.

"I thought Luke could shoot with us today," Jennifer says with a queer little smile. "He was saying he wanted to get better for when he and I are on patrols. Is that okay?"

Luke gives you a nervous little smile. "I understand if you just want it to be you two."

You find the thought of more time spent with Luke to be a very appealing idea.

"Of course you can join."

"Great."

You watch Jennifer and Luke who chat quietly to one another, feeling strangely left out. You preferred it when it was just Jennifer with her soft way of talking to you.

Luke excuses himself to get some more eggs and the second he's out of earshot Jennifer is leaning forward conspiratorially.

"He's cute, huh?"

"I guess, yeah."

"Pretty sure he likes you," Jennifer giggles. "I mentioned we were doing shooting lessons and he was suddenly all keen."

You feel your cheeks heat up at the suggestion. Romance has never really been something you thought about. Survival had always been your focus, even here in Jackson where you have a warm bed and a roof over your head the back of your mind is always fixed on what could come next.

"He's nice," is all you offer.

It's a honest reply because, you really do think he's nice. He's gentle and he doesn't make you feel anxious like some of the leering men of Jackson. He’s soft and quiet and maybe that’s what makes your pulse jump a bit when he rejoins you seconds later.

///

"You close one eye completely, you lose peripheral vision and depth perception, and you need these to acquire the target and determine lead."

Jennifer speaks like she's reading from a book that everyone has already read and memorized. But none of it makes sense to you and you feel your frustration building.

You and Luke have been practicing with her all afternoon, your forehead dotted with sweat. And while yes, your shot is much better now that you’re aiming with the right eye, you feel like you’re still not good enough.

“You’re doing so well,” she encourages nonetheless, smiling at you.

“You really are,” Luke insists from behind you. Luke is a fast learner, already a decent shot. He’s been doing it a lot longer than you have, and using the correct eye.

“Not good enough,” you mutter sourly to yourself. “Missed that last can.”

Jennifer looks over to the can placed at a fair distance in one of the trees. You’ve hit most of the other ones, but that one keeps evading you.

“Honey that’s a far shot,” Jennifer says covering her eyes with her hand to block the winter sun. “Even I don’t get it most of the time.”

“I didn’t get it once.”

For some reason you can’t stop hearing Joel’s voice in the back of your head: useless. It feels like with every miss you’re just proving his point further.

“Okay sourpuss,” Jennifer says with a roll of her eyes. “We’re taking a break and getting a drink down at the Bison.”

The two of you agree, falling in line behind her. You watch her light hair dance in the breeze as she chats animatedly to the two of you. You wonder why she isn’t inviting her other friends to join you when it belatedly hits you.

She’s trying to get you and Luke together. You think of her winks and nudges and suddenly you know exactly what she’s doing. You want to be embarrassed or even irritated, but instead you find your heartbeat jumping.

The three of you leave your weapons at Jennifer’s before heading down into town. Your mood is lightened a bit by their company and the bright day. Snow has come to Jackson, just a small sprinkling but a definite harbinger of greater snowfall ahead.

The three of you push into the rowdy pub, filled with familiar faces. Some play cards, others are telling stories over pints. A woman named (Reba or Rebecca you think?) stands behind the pub, waving you in and telling you to shut the door because of the draft.

A few folks wave and call out hello’s to Jennifer who returns them with a beaming smile.

The three of you find an empty booth and pull off your jackets and scarves. You take a seat in the booth against the wall, a habit from before; you like to know what’s going on. From here you can see most everything and everyone who enters the space. Jennifer sits opposite you, Luke following close behind. From here you can see his face, taking in the friendly way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, and the slight gap in his front teeth.

The Tipsy Bison is self serve and you offer to grab the first round, thanking Reba at the bar and bringing the three gold-colored pints over to the table. Luke and Jennifer are deep in conversation about home repair. They look up and thank you when you slide their drinks to them across the lacquered table.

“I still can’t believe they have a jukebox,” Luke breathes, his eyes lighting up when he gazes at the glowing machine. It plays a pulsing beat that you aren’t familiar with, something to keep the space feeling inviting.

“Go put on a tune,” Jennifer insists, nudging him with her elbow. “Something good.”

Luke gives a toothy grin before nodding. The two of you watch his lanky frame make his way over to the jukebox, heard only faintly over the din of the patrons. You watch him go, your eyes sliding over to Jennifer when she giggles.

“You like him.”

“No I don’t,” you answer reflexively. Your cheeks burn and Jennifer knows not to push it further right now. It’s like she can tell you’re a turtle who will retreat inside her shell if threatened. You think of how to distract her, to turn her to another topic, her favorite one.

“Seen Joel lately?”

You hate how his name sounds in your ears. You hate the syllables, hate how it feels in your mouth like a bitter candy. But you don’t tell her that.

You don’t tell Jennifer that since he came on your tits and announced your carnal times had come to an end that you’d actively avoided him. That you hadn’t come out of your house until this afternoon to practice shooting. That you were going so far as to eat tinned soup just so you wouldn’t run into Ellie at meals.

"I swear I give up," Jennifer sighs, dropping her voice to a whisper only the two of you can hear. "Joel Miller is a lost cause. I've given him every hint."

"Maybe he's just shy," you offer with a shrug. For all you know he might be.

"Or maybe he doesn't like me," Jennifer sighs. "Maybe I'll just be single forever."

You smirk at Jennifer's amusing propensity for the dramatic. As if someone that looked and acted like her could be single forever. Beautiful? Check. Good with weapons? Check. Confident? Check. You muse that if you were attracted to women you’d want her for yourself.

"Or maybe he likes someone else," Jennifer offers with a shrug but your attention is back on Luke who is approaching the table. The gentle strains of some old song play in the background. You think you recognize it from car rides with your family. Luke takes his seat next to Jennifer, his eyes scanning between the two of you.

“What did I miss?”

“Just Joel Miller talk,” Jennifer sighs, plopping her chin in her hands. “The man is an enigma.”

"That's the nicest way of saying asshole that I've ever heard,” you mutter.

Jennifer sputters a laugh at your mumbled remark, almost dribbling out some of her beer.

"Shit, you're funny."

You smile into your mug, trying not to feel too pleased with yourself and failing miserably. You can't remember the last time someone told you that you were funny. Your sister most likely. It feels good.

Before long the three of you have been talking for almost an hour. Your pints are drained and its Luke who stands, cracking his back until you hear the pops.

"I'm going to get another drink. You ladies want anything?"

"I’m okay but she’ll have another," Jennifer says cheerfully pointing at you. When Luke is out of earshot up at the bar she leans across the table in your direction again.

"I don’t care what you say, you like him and he likes you. I'm sure of it. Just look how attentive he’s being."

You feel your face flush, pleased. You don't know how she came to this conclusion but you like the sound of it. The door to the Bison props open and you hear Reba sigh as she pours another whiskey for a sleepy looking woman at the bar.

“Tommy close that dang door unless you wanna rustle us up a space heater!”

You feel your eyes drawn over to the door with a small smile starting. It immediately falls from your face when you see that Tommy isn’t alone. His older, taller, sulk of an asshole brother is with him too.

"It’s him," Jennifer whispers, glancing over her shoulder

Fuck.

Joel Miller walks into every space like he owns it and is disappointed by it. His heavy lidded eyes sail around the room, taking in the patrons, offering polite nods and tight-lipped smiles at the ones he recognizes.

Luke is retrieving the two pints of beer when the Miller brothers take a seat on the empty stools at the bar while Reba busies herself with another customer. You watch over Jennifer’s shoulder as Luke says something you can't hear to Joel. Joel is wearing a glower so menacing it almost makes you gulp. Tommy gives his brother a strange look before answering Luke.

You turn back to Jennifer, trying to hide the smirk at her dreamy look. You almost laugh when she unbuttons her cardigan until the swell of her cleavage is showing.

“Just go over to him.”

“I can’t,” she says breathless as she looks back to you. “I don’t wanna be too obvious.”

“Never stopped you before,” you joke before freezing when Jennifer’s eyes go wide.

Was that joke too far? Have you fucked this all up? You feel your throat go dry before Jennifer gives a tinkling laugh, slapping your hand affectionately.

“Oh shuddap.”

Relief floods you, distracting you from Luke’s approach until you feel his hand trail over your shoulder lightly.

"Here you go."

You feel your stomach clench as you take the drink from Luke, eyes skittering shyly from his face to his hand where it lingers on your shoulder a moment longer.

“Thanks.”

"Do you think he's waiting for us to invite him over?" Jennifer mutters more to herself than anything.

"I don't think so," Luke says with a forced laugh as he takes his seat beside her. You feel his knee brush against yours under the table and you swallow.

"I'm gonna do it," Jennifer promises, taking a moment to build her nerve. She takes a sip of your pint, breathing out.

As she does this you chance a glance in the direction of the stool Joel was occupying, expecting to find it vacated. Instead he sits there, eyes trained in the direction of your table, no doubt gazing at the back of Jennifer’s head.

"Joel! Tommy!" Jennifer suddenly calls over with a cheerful lilt. "Come join us!"

No. Please no. No no no.

You try to hide your grimace. You don't mind Tommy, but thoughts of avoiding Joel's eyes make you cringe. Especially since you haven’t spoken since he kicked you out of his house last week. You turn your full attention to your pint, hoping that they’ll deny the request.

You hear shuffling and your shoulders rise to your ears. You try to think of a reason that you can leave, but anything you say would be too obvious. Plus, you really like Tommy and Maria, why should you be chased off by Joel every time you have the opportunity to hang out with one of them?

Your pint shows only your haunted reflection before another face swims into view. Joel Miller looking down at you. Even in the swimming reflection his dark eyes pierce you. You jerk your head up, trying to avoid him. You shoot a wobbly smile in his brother’s direction instead.

“Hey Tommy. How’s Maria?”

“Good,” Tommy replies and you can see the relief there in the warm brown of his eyes. He doesn’t look as tired. “She’s with Douglas and some friends right now.”

You nod, not wanting to say anything more that would draw unnecessary attention. But Jennifer seems to have observed her absence.

“I haven’t seen much of Maria lately,” she says, her face curling into a cute pout. “Not since the baby was born.”

“She doesn’t really like the cold,” Tommy says with a falter.

“Since when?” Jennifer laughs. “Last winter she-“

“I heard in some cultures it’s normal for the mother to stay in bed for at least twenty one days,” you offer quietly. “And they do a celebration a hundred days after the baby is born with, like a big dinner.

All eyes at the table are now on you and you feel a smidgen of relief at having drawn the attention away from the Maria topic. Joel is staring at you with an unreadable look and Jennifer is looking at you with a queer little smile.

“How do you know that?”

“I had a friend who was Japanese.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway,” Tommy breaks in, relief clear in his features, “the reason I came in was because I’m lookin’ for some volunteers for Patrol C’s slot on Friday.”

At this you hasten a glance to your Friday patrol partner who is looking to his brother patiently. Joel holds a half-full pint glass in his hand, the other shoved awkwardly into his coat pocket. He seems to be ignoring you as much as you’re ignoring him.

“There’s that repair in the old library outpost that we gotta fix quick before more snow gets here. We got that lumber in, plus some nails the other day and we need some extra hands to cart it there and build. So I’m tryin’ to scout a few folks who wouldn’t mind helping. Obviously Joel’ll be doin’ most of it.”

"I'm really good with repair," Jennifer chirps eagerly, smiling up at both the Miller brothers. "Especially windows. And Luke used to work in construction."

Luke gives a small, shy wave. You see Joel frown at that before his attention is back on his brother.

"You two sure?" Tommy looks surprised. "Was gonna offer the volunteers extra portions this week as a thanks. You okay with that?"

"Would have done it for free," Jennifer assures him. You hold in a knowing smirk. Yeah, she sure would. She'd do anything to secure more time with Joel.

“How about you, Luke?”

“I’m game.”

"Great," Tommy says with a grateful smile. "Saves me having to find a few volunteers. You two show up on Friday and we'll put you to work. Lemme know if ya’ll change your mind."

You figure you’d best speak up because you don’t want to disappoint Tommy but you also know that your skills with home repair are limited. You’d rather be switched that week so someone else can go in your place. You also don’t want to chance that Joel will verbally lambaste you in front of Luke and Jennifer during patrols.

“I’m not much good with repairs,” you offer quietly.

“Oh, I know,” Tommy says with a playful wink shot your way. “I remember the stables last summer.”

You feel Jennifer and Luke’s eyes on you and you even think you can feel Joel’s brows rising in surprise and intrigue.

During your first month in Jackson City you’d attempted to be a part of things by volunteering for the stable rebuild that now houses Chestnut, Glimmer and a host of other horses and livestock. You’d worked so hard in that blazing sun, but no matter what your nails always seemed to bent the wrong way or the wood was crooked. By the middle of the day Tommy was urging you to leave and get some water and that you’d worked enough for one day and should go home to relax.

But you hadn’t missed the way he started taking apart your work before you were even down the street. Hadn’t missed the soft chuckles from some of the others who were working on the project. Half the town had been there that day, maybe even Jennifer, but all you remember the humiliation of seeing your own inadequacy highlighted.

You’d assumed Tommy wouldn’t bring it up. But perhaps he’s a bit more like Joel than you give him credit for.

“Does that mean you want me to do Patrol A or something that week?” you offer, trying to swallow your shame.

"No no, it's your regular patrol day and you've got good eyes," Tommy tells you, all guile gone from his features. "Repairing the window might draw attention. Wanna make sure someone is watching out while the group works."

You can't deny a feeling of pride that goes through you at the thought that you're important enough to be brought along for the journey. You’d assumed you’d be left behind. You wait for Joel to scoff or roll his eyes but to your delight he does neither.

"Okay."

Tommy nods and looks like he’s going to set off for home when Jennifer shoots he and Joel a charismatic smile.

“Join us,” Jennifer all but purrs. “We’re just having another round.”

You don’t remind her that her glass is empty. Your eyes go back to your drink, trying to think of a way to extricate yourself from this awkward interaction.

“I gotta get back to Maria,” Tommy says with a tired smile. “I just needed to get some volunteers and thanks to y’all I have.”

You hear Jennifer’s breathing hitch a moment. “Joel? How about you?”

No. Say no. No.

There’s a pause, a shuffling of boots and then you feel a warm and sturdy body slide into the booth next to you. The booth is tight and the nigh is busy so there’s not much room to spread out. You feel his thigh press into yours and hold in a groan of displeasure.

Why couldn’t Luke have sat next to you at the start? Now you’re stuck being shoulder to shoulder with a man you can barely stand. The four of you sit across from one another like two couples on an increasingly awkward double date.

You all wave Tommy off before the moment grows quiet with only the other patrons as a soundtrack to the evening. You glance out the corner of your eyes to see Joel’s large hand around the pint glass, raising it to his pouty mouth before drinking deeply.

“So you have construction experience, Joel?” Jennifer offers and you don’t miss how she presses her arms together, highlighting her cleavage. You hide an amused smirk behind your glass, thankful that at least you’ll have Jennifer’s antics to amuse you.

“Carpentry.”

“Me too,” Luke offers and you can see him swallow nervously before looking at the elder Miller in the face. “Specifically cabinetry.”

Joel grunts a reply before taking another sip of his beer. As the men sit across from one another you can't help but observe that Luke has long, tapered fingers, like an artist. Joel's fingers are also long but more blunt, more masculine looking. You don't know why you draw the comparison but you do.

“I used to do framing with-“ Jennifer starts, but Joel has turned his attention to you.

“What was Tommy talkin’ about with you and the stables?”

Why is he talking to you? It’s not like you’re friends. Is he trying to intimidate you? Humiliate you? You don’t meet his gaze.

“Nothing,” you mutter, taking another sip of your pint. “Was nothing.”

“Didn’t sound like nothin’.”

You hold in a grimace. Your eyes shoot across the table and you can see Jennifer eyeing you and Joel a moment before smirking. “I’m kinda curious too.”

Luke gives you an encouraging grin as well and you swallow, licking your lips anxiously because they suddenly feel bone dry. You wish that you were anywhere else but sitting here in a crowded room feeling trapped.

You don’t want to share that humiliation with anyone else, especially Joel who already thinks you’re useless. You want the attention turning to anyone, to anything else. But all eyes at the table are on you and you feel a flush creeping up your neck.

“I have to go.”

Before anyone can interject you’ve stood up, dragging your coat over your shoulders. You’re about to leave when you feel Joel’s hand on your wrist holding you in place. You turn to face him, scowling as you rip your wrist from his embrace.

“Forgot this,” Joel rumbles.

You glance down to see him holding your red scarf in his fingers. He’s holding it in much the same way he always did before winding it around your eyes and at the sight of it in his grip you feel your throat run dry.

Your eyes flick to his, not immune to the way they darken when you swallow. You snatch it from him, offering a quiet thanks and disappearing out the door.

///

It’s Thursday before you come out of your house again.

You’ve been sequestered in your house all week eating tinned tuna and re-reading old books in your collection. You even toyed with the idea of doing something with your boring walls before deciding it was too much work.

Your humiliation at the Bison hasn’t left you. Neither has the way Jennifer threw you under the bus in front of Joel. Why did she go along with him questioning you? She must have seen how embarrassed you were!

She’s been by several times, knocking and calling your name but you never answer. You’re too embarrassed. You think you’re a little angry with her as well. But you don’t know if it’s justified or if you’re just too sensitive.

She tried leaving cookies a few days ago but they were inedible. Seems Jennifer isn’t good at everything. But you decide the next time you see her that you’ll let all of this go.

So when the door knocks that Thursday morning you slowly open the door, expecting to see Jennifer’s face. To your shock it’s Ellie who stands there in a thick blue parka giving you an incredulous look.

“I thought you were dead.”

“Huh?”

“I haven’t seen you at the dining hall,” she says, sniffling.

“Oh just been feeling a little under the weather,” you lie, fingernail absently scraping the wood frame beside your door. You notice that the end of Ellie’s nose is red from the cold. “You wanna come in for a warm drink?”

“Nah, you said we could make flowers.”

“Oh right,” you answer awkwardly glancing from your feet to hers. “Sorry Ellie. We can do it today if you want.”

“You’re not busy?”

“Nope,” you say, moving to give her space to pass. “Come in and-“

“Nah let’s do it at mine,” Ellie insists, taking you by the hand and tugging. “I got a bunch of that colored paper and wire stuff from Maria plus I wanna show you my room. Joel let me convert the whole garage.”

Everything in you screams no, but Ellie’s earnest face has you immediately caving. Plus you promised her. You sigh, pulling on your jacket and allowing her to lead you to Rancher Street.

///

“Then you wrap the wire around the base like that,” you instruct, reminding her about the extra loop. “Yeah, perfect.”

The two of you have been seated at her kitchen table for over an hour. Colorful swatches of ripped paper and wires decorate the wood. Turns out Ellie is a very quick learner when it comes to the arts. It’s not long before she’s folding tulips and peonies even better than you ever could.

Joel is mercifully nowhere to be found. Ellie mentioned he was out with Tommy doing some errand that would take him several hours. Once she’d made that announcement you’d been able to relax some.

It still feels weird to be in Joel’s house. In your head it was a dark dungeon with dishes piled high and guns on every wall. So far you’ve seem just a bit of the house which is decorated in whites and blues and the deep brown of carved wood. A normal, boring, ordinary house. A few too many framed photos of horses on the wall but he is a man from Texas after all.

The fireplace is cozy today with the chill of the approaching winter, the kind of cold that settles into the bones. But with the fireplace and mugs of hot chocolate that Ellie insisted on making you both, you find you don’t notice it much. As with meals she likes to pepper you with questions.

"What was the last book you were reading back before everything happened?"

"Mmm that's a good question," you tell her, squinting as you try to recall. "I think it was the latest Harry Potter."

"Who's Harry Porter?" Ellie asks, her tongue sticking to the side as she focuses on smoothing a particularly stubborn piece of paper.

"Potter," you gently correct her. "It's about a boy wizard."

"Like Gandalf? I already read about him. Joel has those books."

This takes you aback for a moment. In your mind Joel doesn't read. You kind of just assumed that when he's not on patrol or with the horses he's sleeping or cleaning his guns. The thought of him enjoying something the same as you makes him feel more human.

"No, a young boy goes to wizarding school," you supply. It's a bit of an undersell of the book but Ellie is already rolling her eyes.

"A wizard going to school? That's fucking stupid."

"Couldn't agree more," you say scanning the books she's brought with her. "But they were all the rage."

When the first paper bouquet is finished Ellie announces that she wants to show you her room. She doesn’t give you much option but you smile at the earnestness anyway. You follow her to the door that opens up to the garage. You expect it to be chilly but obviously it’s been insulated well because it’s warmer than the house.

It’s also massive. A large, unmade bed rests by a window on the far side. The walls are lined with mismatched desks and a rolling chair. A couch with a yellow gingham blanket is on the other side, a coffee table made out of crates holds several magazines.

An easel rests nearby, an apron hung upon it. Ellie is quite the artist you’ve come to learn. On the wall you spot a poster of an astronaut and you smile faintly to yourself. You remember your own childhood ambitions of space travel.

Aside from the unmade bed the space is rather meticulous for a teenage girl. You wonder if it’s her upbringing back in her youth or because Joel is a strict caregiver. You still don’t know how long he’s been in her life. Ellie watches you survey her space with a grin. You think she must feel how you did when you first moved into your space; safe and proud.

You see the sketchbooks piled on one of the desks as you wander over to it.

“You draw?”

“Sometimes,” she says, opening the book and placing it on the table. She flips through a few pages before stopping on a graphite drawing of what appears to be a strange-looking horse.

“I tried drawing Glimmer but I keep fucking up her eyes,” she explains with a pout.

“I think it looks good,” you answer honestly. Ellie glances up at you, shy from the praise before giving a crooked grin. She calls you over to her bookshelf and asks you to look through the titles.

“You read any of these before?”

You crouch down to see all of the titles near the bottom; many are familiar pulpy novels you’d find in an airport. One catches your attention and you tug it from its confines, standing and holding it.

“I remember reading this to my sister,” you murmur, eyes misty. Ellie brushes the hair from her face as she invites you to takes a seat next to her on the couch. The two of you look at the book together, both cross legged, knees touching.

“The Giver,” Ellie reads.

“It’s a good one,” you tell her. “It’s about a boy with a job he doesn’t want but was born for. He kinda discovers what good and evil is and if you can have one without the other. I’m doing a shitty job of summarizing it, but it’s a really good book from what I remember.”

“Sounds good,” Ellie murmurs. She tilts her head to read the first page and at this distance you notice the kinks and knots at the back of her ponytail.

"When's the last time you brushed your hair?" You chide gently. Ellie ducks her head and shrugs.

“Dunno.”

You swivel in spot on the couch, facing the other end and pat the blanket in front of you in invitation.

"Grab a brush. You read, I'll de-tangle," you offer. She pauses, thinking about your offer before she rushes to the bathroom, returning moments later with a harried looking comb. You raise a brow at this and she laughs.

“S’all I’ve got.”

She clamors up, facing away from you with the book in her lap. She begins reading, tripping over the odd word.

"Instantly, obediently, Jonas had dropped his bike on its side on the path behind his family’s dwelling. He had run indoors and stayed there, alone."

Her voice is steady and she plays with the edge of the pages as she reads.

"Lily looked up, her eyes wide. “The Ceremony of Twelve,” she whispered in an awed voice. Even the smallest children Lily’s age and younger -knew that it lay in the future for each of them."

You find the sensation of being read to and brushing the girls knotted hair to be strangely soothing.

"Your hair is such a beautiful color" you say before she begins on the next chapter, seeing the way the colors shine in the sunlight.

Ellie doesn't answer and you wonder if she's embarrassed by the compliment. Teenagers are never known for loving extra unwanted attention.

Brushing the dark strands of Ellie's you’re struck by how tense the girl is, like a trapped animal. Her shoulders are practically up to her ears. As if she isn't familiar with the sensation of a kindly touch.

"Did your mom never do this for you?"

Even though she's facing away you can see the way Ellie's head tips forward, her eyes downcast.

"Never had a mom."

Your eyes shut momentarily as you chastise your own thoughtless stupidity. You don’t attempt to further this topic. For now you're content just to brush the girl's hair, smiling as Ellie relaxes with every stroke.

“I wonder if Sarah ever read this,” she mutters to herself as she begins the next chapter. You smooth a section of her hair, taking in the name.

"Who's Sarah?"

"Joel’s daughter," Ellie confides, her eyes on the paper in front of her. "She died on outbreak day."

You surmise that Ellie's so invested in the book that she doesn't even realize what she's saying or to whom.

You remember Maria telling you something of that during your visit with her. It makes your heart clench, thinking of the loss. Before you can stop yourself you’re probing for more information.

“How old was she?”

“Not old. Younger than me I think.”

A child.

You can’t imagine the pain that would create in someone. In all your experiences with Joel it was easy to forget that he had a past. Something that twisted him into the person that he is today. Even after Maria told you he’d lost a daughter you’d overlooked it, content on hating him for his changeable moods as if he had no motivation.

But you’ve lost as well, a voice reminds you. And you haven’t resorted to cruelty.

“Maria mentioned a soldier,” you pause, trying to work the comb through a particularly tricky knot. Ellie is quiet for a few moments as she reads the page she’s on, speaking only when she flips it over.

"Yeah, Joel was carrying Sarah. I think she broke her ankle or something. He was escaping a clicker. Soldier shot it, so Joel thought they were safe but they thought Sarah and him were infected because there were covered in blood."

Your stomach drops as you imagine a younger Joel carrying his daughter tightly in his arms, both terrified with her clinging to him. You’re quiet, not wanting to ask anymore. Already it feels like you’ve overstepped, learned too much about him.

"Joel told the soldier they were okay, not infected. But the soldier shot anyway. Clipped Joel, got Sarah bad."

You feel a wave of nausea hitting you. The thought of losing a child that way makes you physically ill. Your loss hurts so acutely even now, you can't imagine that kind of pain compounded by losing a piece you brought into existence.

“Joel told you all of this?”

“Nah, Maria did,” Ellie replies. “Joel talks with me a little bit about Sarah. Stuff she liked, TV shows and books and stuff. But not about how she died.”

It’s wrong of you to have pushed for more information. Especially since you and Joel are the furthest thing from friends.

"He blames himself for it," Ellie continues, fingers sliding between the pages of the book to turn to the next chapter. "Even though it was a soldier who shot at them. How can Joel blame himself for that?"

She approaches this topic almost naive. You've stopped brushing altogether; you can only stare down at the back of Ellie’s head blinking slowly.

"He seems like the kind of guy who's built to protect people," you offer gently.

"But he was unarmed. How's any of what happened his fault?"

"I don't know," you offer quietly. "Maybe he-"

"What the fuck are you two talkin' about?"

Neither of you heard Joel come in the garage, but he obviously heard enough of your conversation because he looks completely furious. He's a tall man with broad shoulders and the sight of him wild-eyed and fists curled makes you physically startle.

"Joel-" Ellie starts her face blanching.

"I said what are you two talkin' about?" His voice is icy, and takes you both by surprise

"Uh…We..." The open ire on his face makes you stumble over your words. You feel embarrassed at having been caught talking about him, you feel terrified at the vitriol in his eyes.

Your stunned reaction is all the confirmation he needs.

"Get out," Joel mumbles, his dark eyes sailing from you to Ellie. "And you? We need to talk."

Ellie is never afraid of Joel, not that you've seen. But when you look to her now you see her wince at the knowledge that she's overstepped.

Something in you forgets your own fear and you raise a hand in his direction, as if he's a wild animal you're attempting to tame.

"Joel, it's-" you try to interject, to hold back the fury that's crackling through the room. But instead he turns his cold gaze to you, his sharp jaw ticking.

"Get the fuck out now."

And you know that you have to leave. This isn't your place. Ellie isn't your daughter, Joel isn't your husband. This is basically a stranger's home.

"I'm sorry."

You shoot Ellie a sympathetic look but she's just staring at with rounded eyes. You can't help but stop at her side, your voice a soft murmur. "He won't hurt you will he?"

Ellie's eyes snap to yours with a mixture of shock and horror.

"Joel would never hurt me," Ellie explains before Joel has time to react to your question. "He's about the only one who never has."

The emphatic nature of her reply surprises you into taking a step backwards. A quick look over your shoulder at Joel tells you that his anger is dwindling at her words. You nod once more in Ellie's direction and then you slip by Joel to exit.

You’re just turning off Rancher Street when the tears begin to slip down your cheeks. They drip onto the collar of your jacket and they don’t stop until you close the door to your home behind you.

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

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yeeterthek33per · 8 months

Text

Girls Like You (Katrina Gorry x Reader)

A/n y'all wanted part 2, so here she is 😊

Warnings: teeny mention of bad times. Little bit of mention of some violence, not much, though. Mentions of mental health. Some mention of illness.

Also, buckle in, guys. She's a long one.

Part one

Katrina was sure she'd left her favourite shirt on the top shelf. That way, it was away from grabby hands and accidental spillages. Of course, now that she actually needed it, it was missing.

Harper's sat on the bed, playing with an electronic drawing pad. (She made the mistake of giving her actual non-toxic markers one day. Never again.)

As she digs through the large pile of clothing now on the floor, there's a small knock at her bedroom door.

"Hey, Min, just me and Kyra, you need help with anything?"

She sighs softly, standing up again and walks to the door, pulling it open.

"Yeah, I can't find my favourite shirt. Have you guys seen it?"

Charlie thinks for a second.

"You mean that blue sleeveless one?"

"No, the white button-up."

Charlie frowns for a second.

"Don't you own like ten of those?"

Katrina shakes her head. "No, Harper keeps spilling things on them, and at the rate she's doing it, my washing machine can't keep up, so I'm pretty sure I'm down to one again."

She rubs at her face softly. This really wasn't helping her nerves now. Charlie sighs softly before pushing the girl to the bathroom.

"Just put on your other clothes, and get ready. I'll have a look while you finish up."

"Thanks Cha."

She waves her off and continues digging through the mess that she'd probably end up having to lock in the wardrobe and clean up when she got back.

She puts on a pair of blue denim shorts and a simple tank top, so she's not wearing nothing when she steps out.

Twenty minutes of makeup, and another twenty for hair, later, and she walks out of the bathroom.

She can see Charlie sitting on the bed beside Harper, chatting with the small girl, keeping her occupied while she draws as well.

"Oh wow, is that a soccer ball?"

The girl eagerly nods her head.

"That's so coool. I love it. Who'd you draw it for?"

"Mummy! Soccer makes her happy, I made it for her."

Katrina's heart just melts that little bit more. Charlie turns to Katrina with the same expression, hand over her chest.

"Any luck?"

"Yup, it was on the top shelf in the corner still."

She rolls her eyes, and Charlie tosses the shirt to her.

"Of course it was."

She puts the flowy white shirt on and checks her reflection, huffing slightly.

"Nerves?" She hears from behind her.

Charlie's watching her with a small smile.

"Little bit. Nothing I don't normally deal with. In theory, this should be the easiest thing I've done all week."

The blonde only leans her head into her palm. She knows that's not really the case.

"Buuuut?" She prompts gently.

"But.. ugh, I don't know. She makes me a little nervous, is all."

"A little? Min', you've been jittery all week. What's making you so nervous? She obviously has the hots for you, and she set this date up, despite the fact you asked her out, so she obviously wants to go out."

"I know, but like, what if I end up being a disappointing date or something?"

Charlie gives her a pointed look.

"You're kidding, right? Min', I love you and care about you, and I'm gonna say this in the nicest way possible while your child is currently crawling all over me." Harper grins up at the defender.

"You are the nicest, sweetest, protective, and most caring person and a brilliant mother and one heck of a footy player. If you're disappointing to her, she's losing out on a world of love that she won't ever find elsewhere."

Katrina looks down, fighting a small flush creeping up her neck.

"Okay, but what if the fact that I have a child scares her off?"

"Are you serious? You better not be."

Katrina only blushes more at that. Charlie sighs softly.

"Min', aside from the circumstances you both met in and the fact she met your child before meeting you. She said yes to a date, knowing full well you had a kid. In fact, she messaged you just yesterday, asking if the date went well enough, Could you both spend your second date doing something with Harper. It's been four days, and she already loves this little human being. And I certainly don't blame her."

She trails off, giving Harper a big kiss on the cheek, making the girl giggle.

"Yeah, okay, I get your point." A smile makes its way onto her lips at the sight.

"You better. I'm serious Min', you're too good for her not to know what she'd be missing."

She gives her a grateful smile.

The older woman sits back on the bed, and Harper jumps out of Charlie's arms and into her mother's.

"Hi!"

"Hello, little miss."

It makes her little one giggle again, and she hugs her tight, Harper is very much happy to do the same. She's so grateful to have her. She's been light in her life for the two years since she'd been born.

A ping on her phone pulls her back to reality. It's from you.

"Hey! I'm on my way, be about twenty minutes or so? Say hi to Harps for me.😊"

There's a tingle that runs through her when she reads the message.

Charlie just gives her the I-told-you-so look.

Katrina gives her a small shove and texts you back.

"Hey, all good 😊See you soon 😉. Also, will do!"

-------

"I'm still nervous, Ash, It's my first date in like four months. What if I fuck it?"

"Dude, just don't fuck HER on the first date and it's fine."

Your sister's voice plays over the speaker in your car. You'd called her the moment you left the house, nerves grating you down a bit.

You roll your eyes at her.

"Yeah, there's no chance of that happening on the first date. You forget she's got a kid that she still has to go home to. Plus, she doesn't seem like the type to have sex on the first date and take off."

"She doesn't have to stay the night for you both to-."

"Alright! Jesus, I get the point. But still, she seemed genuinely nervous about asking me out."

"Wait, so why are you arranging the date then?"

"I don't know? I messaged first, she was happy to let me take the lead on that one, I'm assuming she's just a little busy, that's why I jumped in. Figured it would be nice for someone to take her out."

She pauses for a second.

"You said she's a professional football player?"

"Yeah why?"

"What's her name again?"

"Ashley, I'm not letting you stalk her, you already scared my last date off, I'm not letting you scare this one off too."

She gets defensive.

"I was not going to stalk her, I was just curious where she plays is all."

"Uhuh, right. Thats exactly what you were looking for."

"You want my help or not?"

"Not if you're gonna internet stalk the poor woman."

"I'm just making sure she's genuine and not some serial killer."

"Oh my fucking god, Goodbye Ashley."

"I was just looki-."

You hit the hang up button. You were just about to pull up at Katrina's place anyway.

You pull over on the side of the road and quickly check yourself in the mirror.

You went with a rolled up white rolled see-through button up tucked into a pair of black jeans and a black bra underneath. That and a pair of your lucky white skate shoes.

You try and steel your nerves a bit, wiping your palms on your pants and spray a quick bit of mint breath freshener in your mouth.

You get out of the car and make your way to the door and hit the door bell.

----------

"Ooh, shes heerrreee." Charlie takes off down the stairs.

"Charlotte Layne Grant! Do not answer that door!"

By the time she tells Kyra to watch Harper and runs down the stairs she's already got the door open.

"Hey, Y/n! She's just coming down now. Now, no funny business, we want her home by no later than ten and- Hey!"

She gets shoved away from the door by a very annoyed looking Katrina.

You watch on, biting your lower lip to hide a laugh, flowers in hand.

You hear her scold the blonde mildly and then she returns to the door a little flustered.

Her hair is down straight but tucked back just over shoulders. The white flowy shirt, rolled back to just below her elbows, shows off her wrist tattoos and her collarbone. Your eyes trail over it before meeting her eye again with a small grin noticing her having done the same.

"Hey, you."

"Hi." She says it with a grin of her own.

You offer her the flowers, and she pulls you towards her into a hug. Your arms wrap around her, keeping the flowers from being crushed. She's only a little bit shorter than you, so you're able to rest your chin on her shoulder as her arms wrap around you.

It's a short embrace, but she leaves a lingering touch to your waist as she lets go looking up at you.

She takes them inside for a second while you wait and returns swiftly.

You step back, holding out your hand for her's.

"Ready?"

She takes it, her hand warm in yours.

"As ever."

As you both walk down the drive and you open the passenger side door for her to step in, she gives you a grateful smile and a small peck to the cheek. You hear one final yell from behind you.

It's Charlie at the door, sporting a glare. "Home by ten." And gives you an I'm-watching-you gesture. You chuckle and salute at the blonde while Katrina yells back.

"You better be watching my daughter, Charlotte Layne."

Charlie's eyes widen slightly, and the front door slams shut behind her when she takes off inside again.

You close the door once she's settled and return to the driver's seat.

"Alrighty, Clicked in? Let's go."

As you pull away, she watches you carefully, waiting for an explanation as to where you guys are headed.

You hum softly. "So, I wasn't sure entirely as to your preferences, so I've got a few places we're going to, if you agree that is, we don't have to go if-"

Her hand rests on yours, your arm having been leant on the centre console.

"I'll go where you've picked for us. Im not fussed, I'm just here with you."

You smile and nod, her fingers intertwining with yours for the rest of the ride. When you pull up in a spot beside a blank modern style building, there's a little confused look on her face that's adorable.

"C'mon, you'll see once we get inside."

You nod your head towards the place. Katrina raises a brow slightly but decides to trust you as you both step inside.

It suddenly makes sense to her as you both step into a crowded bar.

It's an open mic night. In a gay bar.

It's somewhere you're a regular at, to the point where the bartender, Aiden, yells out to you the moment you both step in the door.

"Ayyy, look who's here, ladies, theydies and gents!"

There's a few cheers around the bar as some of the locals spot you. The bar isn't packed, there's only maybe forty or so people in the room, but there's a stage and a mic setup where the current half tipsy singer has stopped to cheer as you come in as well.

Your face flushes as you turn back to Katrina, a really curious look on her face now. "I'm a bit of a regular... for the karaoke, that is." You rub the back of your neck.

"Well then, miss singer, sign me up, let's see what you've got."

You smile and lead her over to the bar.

"Ms L/n, the usual?"

You shake your head at Aiden.

"Virgin tonight, and another entry for, oh, Katrina, this is my best man, Aiden. He's the one who built this bar from the ground up."

He shakes his head as he fills a glass with some lime juice, sprite, mint, and a little soda water.

"Not on my own. Your girl here runs the place when I'm not in town."

Katrina raises her brows at that. You just smile sheepishly. It certainly explained why you were a regular then.

"Okay, I may have lied a little bit about only coming for the karaoke. But it definitely is a highlight, I swear."

She just gives you an amused look.

"What about you, love, anything to drink?"

"Just a soda water, thank you." He nods and pours her drink. He processes the drinks, but when you go to tap your card, his hand jumps in ahead of yours with another.

"Little bugger, you're gonna get me in trouble, man. Paying for my drinks."

"Who said I was paying for yours?"

He playfully winks at Katrina beside you, and you tut and whack him softly, knowing he's joking with you.

"Don't mind him. He can't keep a husband, so he steals my dates instead."

He puts his hand to his chest, giving you a mock offended look.

"How dare you? I'll have you know, it's husbands, not husband."

You stick your tongue out at him. "Too bad none of them could teach you to finance either."

He raises his hands in surrender, with a small laugh. "Got me there. What's getting added to the queue tonight ladies?"

You look at Katrina, but she just gestures for you to take your pick.

"You're the karaoke expert."

You raise your brow but take the tablet from Aiden. Putting in an intrumental that you know well enough and she'll probably know.

"Up for some gender bent Maroon 5?"

Katrina nods and you both grab your drinks.

You take a seat at one of the open tables.

As you both wait for the queue to progress, you talk about what led you to take over part ownership and what Katrina's life is like playing professionally.

"Honestly, he was desperate for someone to babysit the bar at the time. He knew me from back in Uni, knew I'd graduated with some certs in business management, finance, and accounting. So he calls me up and asks me to take over for a few weeks. I kind of latched onto the place after that, and now I do his yearly taxes for him in exchange for a few free drinks and a lifetime entry to the karaoke. What about you, what's the league like?"

"It gets kind of busy during the season, particularly during the summer months. I get asked to play in other spots, and it gets complicated. I play for the Brisbane Roar currently, so media duty is something I get asked to do regularly."

You raise a brow at that. You knew she played professionally, but to what level? You had no idea.

"That's really cool, and that's November through April, right?"

She nods.

"I was in Sweden for a bit with Harper, but I wanted to come home again. At least for a while."

You nod in understanding.

"I was actually in Sweden for about six months doing international work for a company I used to work for."

She tilts her head slightly.

"Really, when was that?"

She takes a drink.

"I came back about a year ago, so June through November."

"Was it meant to be that long?"

"No, it was supposed to be a permanent move, but I got homesick too quickly, didn't know anyone, and I was living on my own for five out of six months."

"So you told them to bring you back?"

"Ha, no, I just quit. They refused, so I left and never turned back. They were underpaying me anyway, I don't regret it whatsoever. Life is less stressful when you work for yourself."

"So what do you do now?"

"Well, when I'm not here doing Aiden's paperwork, I work as a freelance financial advisor/accountant, it pays decent but the residential market in Brisbane is kind of crap, so I live with my sister and her wife in the meantime, do you do anything between seasons?"

She kind of hesitates for a moment, but as she goes to speak, next in the queue is called up.

"That's us." You take a long sip of your drink and hold out your hand for Katrina to take.

She looks a little nervous, now suddenly overcome with a little stage fright.

"C'mon, these guys aren't scary, just drunk and happy to listen to us sing gay shit all night."

She puffs out her cheeks and takes your hand.

You lead her ip the stage and the small audience in the room cheers.

You take the mic for a second.

"Evening everybody, another night in for me. Bringing you Girls Like you by Maroon 5, covered by yours truly, aand."

You gesture to your date.

"Katrina, my new partner in crime."

You nod at Aiden to hit play.

It's a soft piano based melody compared to the usual guitar intro she's used to, but she knows the song.

Spent 24 hours

I need more hours with you

You spent the weekend

Getting even, ooh ooh

You start out singing, hoping to calm the girl's nerves and let her get used to the atmosphere as well.

She's pleasantly surprised by your singing voice, although given the cheers you got, she'd suspected you weren't exactly terrible either at that point.

We spent the late nights

Making things right, between us

But now it's all good, babe

Roll that Backwood babe

And play me close

You gesture the mic to her, grabbing her hand to pull her closer to you and nudge her to sing with you.

'Cause girls like you

Run around with gals like me

'Til sundown, when I come through

I need a girl like you, yeah, yeah

You grin when she sings into the mic with you. She's pretty good, actually. It shouldn't surprise you, though. The smoothness in her voice makes your heart jump a little.

Girls like you

Love fun, yeah me too

What I want when I come through

I need a girl like you, yeah, yeah

You start to sway a little, and her hand squeezes yours as you meet her gaze. You use the moment to watch her sing. Her blue eyes are sparkling under the orange-yellow lights. Her eyes crinkle slightly, and her nose scrunches when the guys in the audience cheer and whistle.

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Yeah yeah yeah

I need a girl like you, yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah

I need a girl like you

She blushes when the crowd cheers louder and lets you take over again.

I spent last night

On the last flight to you

Took a whole day up

Trying to get way up, ooh ooh

The mic stays in your hand this time, and Katrina steps back a little to watch you sing. The way you smile brightly while singing, the way your eyes close as you let the music take over you, it has her heart racing a little.

We spent the daylight

Trying to make things right between us

And now it's all good babe

Roll that Backwood babe

And play me close

You motion her back over and she bites her lip, hiding a smile as she shakes her head, wanting to hear you sing instead. You raise a brow as you continue, stepping and grabbing her hand to pull her back towards you.

'Cause girls like you

Run around with gals like me

'Til sundown, when I come through

I need a girl like you, yeah yeah

You brush your shoulder with hers, your other hand settling on her back and you feel hers settle low on your hip, you turn and give her a wink as you continue.

Girls like you

Love fun, yeah me too

What I want when I come through

I need a girl like you, yeah yeah

Your hand is warm on her back, and she can smell your vanilla perfume from her position beside you as it floods her senses. Your voice is soothing, calming her more energetic side and allows her to relax into you as she sings with you.

Yeah yeah yeah

I need a girl like you, yeah yeah

Yeah yeah yeah

I need a girl like you

The song rounds out and the audience applauds you both, whooping and clapping and you take a playful bow and turn to Katrina to applaud her as well, giving her a proud smile.

You both step down off the stage, a little hot from the heat of the lamps facing the stage.

"So we gonna talk about the athletically talented mother soccer player being able to sing?"

She coughs slightly and turns her head away. "Nope."

You try to meet her eye again, a small pout on your lips.

"No? Aw c'mon, you were so good up there."

Her face flushes as her head whips back to you.

"Says you. When was that gonna come out? Professional singing level talent."

You end up with a blush matching hers.

"I.. never really pursued it. Not worth it in my opinion."

A raised brow in your direction.

"What? Just not something I was interested in pursuing. Was never stable enough for people so.."

Her face softens, realizing exactly what you meant there.

When her hand grabs a hold of yours again, there's a small tingle that runs up your arm.

Instead of commenting further though, you nod your head at the door.

"You hungry?"

She knows you're avoiding it but she's not going to push, not on a first date. She could actually eat though, she hadn't had food since that morning, a little too stressed about the date and also making sure there no possible way for Charlie and Kyra to screw up looking after Harper again.

"Yes, who knew singing worked up an appetite?" It's said in a joking tone, and you laugh with her as you wave goodbye to Aiden and some of the others.

The moment you step outside, the warm afternoon air has set in with a light breeze. You jog over to the door when you get closer to the car again, opening it for her with a cute bow that makes her laugh. God, you could listen to that all day.

"Such a gentlewoman."

You grin and wink at her, before moving to get in yourself.

"Alright, where to next?"

"How's seafood sound?"

Katrina's face lights up.

"And you just became my favourite person. Seafood sounds perfect, lead the way."

Your laugh gives her butterflies and she swears her heart stutters for a second.

"Yes Ma'am."

And with that, you drive for about twenty-five minutes to a place closer to the water. A little restaurant you'd picked up on while out with your sister.

Katrina's hand is in yours the second you pull out onto the road, her fingers interlocking yours. You graze your thumb gently over the back of her hand. You talk about her early days as a player, her days in the academy and you almost get into her being asked to play somewhere when you pull into a spot.

The restaurant is a quaint little spot, beach themed, because of course it is, and a bar stands on the outside facing the water. Stools line the counter and the waft of cooked fish blows your way in the ocean breeze.

"This place is so good. I come out here when I need to process and just get away, even if it's not too far from home."

"Smells good too."

You wander up to the bar and take a seat behind one of the extended counters meant for two people with the bar window to your right and Katrina sits on the other side.

You order from the employee through the window and get your food without issue.

The woman's soft groan from her first bite makes this worth it.

You chuckle. "Good, right?" She covers her mouth slightly, cheeks reddening as she nods.

She swallows. "Seriously, where the heck do you find these places?"

You shrug, "Honestly, I have no idea, I like to think luck has something to do with it."

"Luck?"

"If, and this is gonna sound bad, I don't really do it so much anymore, but, if I'm having a rough day or I'm feeling lost or just, I need a breather, I tend to wander out into the world for a few hours. Furthest I've gone is like, four hours further inland. Exploring has always been my mental stabiliser. Keeps me cool, keeps me calm when I'm stressed. I don't crave it, and I don't expect it when it does happen but it just kind of happens."

"Where's the worst you've ended up?"

"Well, there's been a few and honestly in my younger years I was kind of stupid too, so I've ended up where I really shouldn't. I was down in Melbourne for four months when I was twenty. In the last month I was there, I ended up wondering somewhere on foot. Keep in mind, it was just a crap way to go about it."

You kind of look off into the waves as they crash.

"But, I ended up being fired that day by a contracting company, they decided they didn't like the fact I was so young and that I wanted more for my qualifications than 10 bucks an hour. So I just left my apartment. Ended up with a missing wallet and a black eye. Turns out my dumb ass had walked where it shouldn't have and pissed off some gang members. After that one, I moved back home again to just focus on my studies."

"I'm sorry that happened. What about the best place you've been?"

You wave her off.

"Honestly, I'm past that. That's nothing. I'm lucky, but it was definitely my dumb ass that got caught out. As for the best place? I mean, Aidan's place. We met while in Uni and I stumbled into the bar one night after a rough day about two years later. He picked me back up and we became buddies after that."

"Alright, what place surprised you the most?"

"The four hour one, I wasn't expecting to find much. I found something, though. I ended up going on a hike and found this amazing lake that just went down forever. Massive open mouth cave and a waterfall. It just looked so untouched and peaceful. It was so green and colourful and it just makes everything in the city feel so grey."

You push around your food. Take another bite and then gesture to Katrina.

"What about you? Before you had Harper, what was going on then?"

"Depends, which part?"

"Why have Harper?"

"I've always loved the idea of having kids. At first, I kind of wanted to wait until I found someone to have a child with, but in my profession, that just doesn't come easy enough. I ended up out injured and right before I came back. That was the moment where I was like, 'Screw it, with or without a partner, I want my own child.' So I walked into an IVF Clinic in Norway, picked the donor I wanted, and started right away. My timing was perfect, and the first try was a success, and now I have little Harps. There isn't a single day in my life where I ever regretted my decision."

Your hand slides across the table as she talks, her's sat unoccupied, and as you listen, you slowly grab it. Letting it sit in your palm and without much thought, she let's you.

You toy with her fingers, running the tip of your index down each one. And then half intertwine them. She squeezes your hands closed, and it settles you fully for the first time since you moved to Sweden and back. Or before that even.

"She's been a light in my life, I feel so lucky to be her mother, ya know, it's Harper's world, and I'm just living in it. The girls on the national team are so good with her."

Your head perks up at that. National team? You ask exactly that.

"National team?"

Katrina's expression winces, realizing her slip up.

"Oh yeah, that too. I've been playing with the national team since I got called up in 2012."

Your brows raise at that.

"As in..."

"Australia. For Australia."

Oh. That. Was. Not what you expected.

"Wow, that's really big. Congratulations..? Sorry, that sounded weird. That's amazing, though. I can't imagine how much hard work that is. I mean, for real, a kid right in the middle of that, and you come back to play. That must be some strength you've got."

Her head ducks slightly.

"Honestly, I'm just glad it worked out the way it has. Harper has twenty aunts and two unofficial sisters that look at her like she's hung the stars. That and achieving my dream is all I care about. Harper, more so. I think, if having Harper had taken me out. I would've okay with that. I'm perfectly happy with it, actually. If anything, having Harper actually saved me a bit, too."

"How so?"

"I ended up with an infection, and it ended up swelling up the muscles between my two pelvic points. The pregnancy actually completely took out the swelling entirely. The pain just stopped one day and never came back. Even after Harper was born."

"I really admire the level of resilience you have. To push back on any expectation, to say fuck it, if that's what you want, you'll make it happen. It's actually really attractive. I'm sorry you had to go through so much though."

She shaked her head, squeezing your hand.

"I wouldn't go back and change a thing about how it happened. It's turned me into the person and player I am. I don't regret any of it."

You smile, watching her eyes as they flick down to your lips for a second and then away. You don't know if she noticed she did it, but you did.

Your hand loosens from her grip, fingertips tracing her wrist up to the tattoo on her forearm and then back down to her palm. Her skin tingles with every touch.

It feels mildly intimate, and you realise she's been silent this whole time, watching you do this. You look up to meet her gaze, a small apologetic smile.

"Sorry, little distracted, I am listening though. Continue?"

She just gives you a soft smile in return.

"What about where you grew up?"

You ponder for a moment.

"I grew up in a small town in New South Wales, actually. We moved to Brissy later, but that's another story. A place like a couple hours south of Sydney. It's really gorgeous there, I haven't been since I was a teenager but the place was really nice. Most of the folks living there were friendly. The schools were kind of crap but that's just the public system. We had a place in the more urban side of the region. Small brick house, big gum tree in front. Good sized backyard. The town had yearly markets. They were okay. Mostly to bring in tourists, though. It worked, and the place ended up really busy right before we left. I loved it when storm season came around. The rain was always a relief to have after hot summers. I love thunderstorms. The rain always helps me sleep better, too. Just anything rain, honestly."

While you speak, she repeats your earlier actions, fingers trailing gently over the veins in your wrist or the slenderness of your fingers. They trace the once obvious scars left there. They're subtle, but they're there. Years of healing over the top of what she assumed was a particularly dark time for you. Your hands are soft but are mildly scarred in their own right. A small scar above your wrist. A big one across the back towards your thumb.

"The town was a part of a bigger community region. The next town over was known for the museum there for one of the more famous sports folk of Australian history. There was the cricket oval in town, too. Just an average joe half rural town to live in honestly."

Her fingers continue their path around your hand, tracing the creaselines in your palm and the callus that sits just on the inside of your left pinky.

"What about your home life? What are your parents like?"

"My parents were... okay. Not great to be real with you. Hence why I'm staying with my sister rather than my parents. Kicked me out at seventeen and haven't looked me in the eye since."

She feels a small amount of anger flare up in her chest.

"Why would they do that?"

"Same cliché as any. Found out I was into girls over guys. Tried to have me cured. My sister had already moved out when this was going on. She knew they were strictly homophobic and took off the first second she could. I don't blame her for that. When they realised I wouldn't conform to their bullshit, I was kicked out. To experience the cruel harsh world, they said. The assholes just realised their children wouldn't give them biological and 'natural' grandchildren."

You roll your eyes as you remember the disgust and disappointment in your birth-giver's eyes.

"What the hell kind of parents do that to their own child? The one they're supposed to love and protect. And care for. And-"

Your hand squeezes hers, and you push the now empty plates aside to grab it with the other.

"Hey, I'm okay. Im fine. I dont miss them, and they'll never get the chance to miss who I am. They'll never get to hear about who I meet or who I'm with. I'm dead to them for all I care."

Katrina takes a small breath and uses your grasp on her hand to calm a bit before shooting you an apologetic look.

It's the first date, dude. Chill pill. So she tells herself.

Your heart swells at her protectiveness. She really was born to be a good mother.

"I hope they never get to see this side of you. Or who you are and who you'll be in five or ten years."

You blush lightly.

"Thank you." It's a soft murmur, and you duck your head slightly.

She smiles softly, and her thumb rubs at your hand.

You gesture to the worker and hand back your plates, and move to the register to pay.

There's some bickering, but after a sneaky slip of the card to the worker, you end up paying for it. Though that does earn you a soft shove and a whine when she hears the eftpos machine beep.

You chuckle softly.

"We better get going. I've got one more place for us to go, and I want to be there before complete sundown." You say lightly joking.

"Well, come on then!" She jogs ahead with a grin on her face, dragging you with her.

You play your routine part of valet and it earns you a tip, consisting of a kiss to the cheek that's far too close to the corner of your mouth and it makes you freeze for a second. She just chuckles, and you shake your head lightly and shut the door.

"It's about a half hour there, so feel free to pirate the aux cord."

You dig it out of the console and offer it to her.

"Aye aye, captain." She gives you a wink while she plugs in her phone.

You hear a familiar tune, and you immediately shoot her an impressed look.

"You, Ma'am, have amazing taste."

She smirks and nods as she starts singing along to the lyrics.

The drive passes by quickly with both of you yelling to various songs.

There's a small beach cove that opens up to a really nice view of the ocean. And it allows the sun to come down on the majorly clear water with a nice sparkle, too. You'd only come across it about a month ago, but it was a regular spot for you.

There was something else you'd wanted to do for a bit of fun, but it seems stupid now, considering her profession.

When you pull in to the driveway leading up to the spot, she gives you a funny look.

The driveway is completely surrounded by shrubbery, so it doesn't really surprise you.

She makes a joke, "Is this where I'm supposed to find out you're secretly a serial killer?"

You roll your eyes good naturedly and give her a slight push as you get out. She jumps out with you, and you both make your way up the path.

The dirt path turns to sand, and you stop, starting to take your shoes off.

"It's only getting sandier from here, so you might wanna take your shoes off."

She nudges you softly and does the same.

"Yeah, I did have another thing for us to do, but I'm afraid you'll kick my butt if we do it."

She has a mischievous look on her face.

"It was beach soccer, wasn't it?"

You smile sheepishly and give her a slight nod.

"Oh, you're on now. Go get it."

You raise a brow at her and jog to go get the ball and some mini cones.

The sun's just starting to set as you return with the stuff and a bag slung over your shoulder that you'd forgotten to grab.

Katrina's standing there staring out at the water when you walk up again. You quietly set the stuff down on the sand and move to stand next to her.

"You find places like this all the time?"

"Sometimes, it's a hit or miss kind of thing. This one was pure luck because I hadn't even meant to come down this way. It was the next street over."

"It looks amazing out here."

"Water is pretty good too."

She raises a brow in your direction but doesn't say anything. You move to set up the cones and lay out the blanket that was in the bag you had.

The moment you start, you realise how physical playing with her is. You keep up for the most part, but at one point, she wraps her arms around your waist to try and steal the ball and you both topple over, her landing sitting on you, legs either side of your hips.

The smug grin she gives you makes your heart flutter, and you lean up on your elbows.

"You give up yet, newbie?"

You give her a mock offended expression and accept the hand up she offers when she stands.

"Surrender?" You think for a few seconds.

You stride over to her, a mischievous glint in your eye. You lean down slightly and whisper in her ear. Her head tilts slightly.

"I'll think about it." At that, you take off with the ball.

"Oi, little cheater."

You cackle and try as you might to keep the ball away. She ends up stealing it from you. Her foot sits on the ball, hands on her hips as she watches you. You're practically dying at this point, huffing. Man, you needed to hit the gym more.

"Surrender yet?"

You flop onto your back onto the sand and give her a pleading hands motion.

"I think I'm dying here."

She just shakes her head at your antics and drags the blanket over to you, leaving the ball by the cones.

You both settle on the blanket, the sun finally going down enough to enjoy the view fully.

You sit, leaning back on your hands, and she does the same beside you, legs crossed.

As your breathing calms and the late afternoon breeze sets in, the waves start to crash a little more than the tiny laps at the sand that they were.

Katrina sighs softly, taking in the feel of the open air and the salty wind and the smell of harsh greenery.

The serenity of the scene put her more at ease than she'd felt in a while. She sits up a bit and shuffles closer to you, shoulder to shoulder, and nudges you softly.

"Thanks for bringing me out tonight."

You smile, "Thank you for agreeing to come out with me."

"I feel like I should be saying that."

"Maybe, but I'm the one that planned."

"I still asked first." You poke your tongue out at her cheekily, and she just laughs.

"Goof."

You clutch at invisible pearls.

"So mean."

"Oh, I'm sorry." There's a jested look on her face, and she moves to straddle you. Her hands settle on your shoulders, and yours find her hips.

You playfully huff with a half smile.

"Better be."

Her eyes flicker down to your lips, gaze darkening as the air around you shifts, your brow raised slightly when she meets your gaze again. You let out a shaky breath as her hand slides up to cup your cheek.

"Kiss me?" It's mumbled, but she still hears it.

Your lips are parted slightly.

"Don't even have to ask."

She leans down and captures your mouth with her own, and your eyes drift shut. The noise around you drifts away as your lips move together.

Her fingers tangle in your hair, tugging you closer to her, deepening the kiss slightly. One of your hands slips up to settle in the small of her back, holding her against you.

She pulls away from you with a playful nip to your bottom lip. You steal one more kiss, and her hands settle back on your shoulders, pushing you onto your back.

You raise a brow at the spark in her gaze, and she kisses you again, hands settled beside your head.

You stay there for a while. Until you're both breathless and have to come up for air.

Your pupils are dilated, and her hair is slightly mussed from you, having had your hands in it just seconds earlier. Her fingers are tracing at the hem of your shirt, just barely having dipped under the fabric to feel the skin beneath.

Her hands are cold, but they leave heated sensations where they travel along your stomach. It sends shivers down your spine, and you have to resist moving your hands where they probably shouldn't go. Not here or now, not yet.

She has the same thought and has to pull her hands back slightly, going back to settle beside your head.

Her teeth nip at your lower lip again. And you groan softly, going to kiss her again, only for her to pull away slightly, an amused look on her face.

"We're both gonna get in trouble if we stay out here any longer." You look around, noting the sun's gone down fully now, and the sky has cleared to stars, twinkling brightly.

"I forgot, we're both on curfew here."

She slaps your shoulder, a cute pout forming on her face. You kiss it away, and she groans, feeling her phone buzz in her pocket, and she pulls away again.

"Seriously, those two will kill me if I don't get home before ten. They hate being left alone with each other for too long, I have to play referee to keep them from fighting after a while. They love each other, but they get along about as well as sisters do. Plus, Harper is most likely loaded up on ten tonnes of sugar, so I'll be putting her to bed after that, too."

You chuckle, nodding in understanding.

"Mine's gonna report me missing if I don't get home soon too."

Katrina reluctantly gets off you, and you both pack up the gear and walk back to the car, shoes in hand.

The drive back is pretty quiet but peaceful. There's music playing softly in the background.

Your linked hands sit in her lap for most of the drive, and you get an occasional hum out of her as you sing softly along.

You get her home at about 9:30pm, having stopped halfway back to raid an ice cream freezer in a servo and some more kissing in the carpark. Almost reminding you of your teenage years, sneaking around kissing girls in the back of your parents' jeep.

Only this one feels a lot more passionate. Permanent. There's a lot more emotion behind each brush of her lips against yours, and it leaves you aching for more. To feel her pressed into you.

"I'd let you walk me to the door, but I'm afraid Charlie might actually interrogate us both."

It's only half joking this time. Knowing by now, that was well true.

"Let you out with a kiss goodnight instead?"

Her breath is ragged. "Please?"

Katrina's feels like she's addicted to your kisses at this point. A breath of fresh air. Your touch sends tingles through every nerve ending in her body.

You get out of the car, and when you open the door, she hops out and grabs you by the shirt, pulling you down into her, and smashes her lips on yours.

You steady the both of you, one arm leaning against the door frame, the other around her waist while her fingers tangle in your hair.

You finally pull away, leaving one last peck to her lips and a dazed look on both of you.

"Message me when you get home safe?"

"Of course."

She smiles and slowly steps away from you, hands slipping off your shoulders with a lingering squeeze.

"Good night, hot stuff."

"Good night, sleep well gorgeous. Give Harps a hug for me."

She nods and turns back to the house. The door slamming open makes her jump.

"Excuse me, young lady, you're one minute past ten 'o' clock. Why are you late?"

Her face flushes red, and she groans.

"Charlie, I swear to god."

The blonde just shakes her fist at you, still leaning against your car as you watch her go inside. A small smirk appears on your face as you wave to both of them and get back in, driving off.

Katrina brushes past the girl, and she calls out after her.

"You're so grounded"

She rolls her eyes, and as she goes upstairs to find Kyra and Harper, she can't drop the giddy grin on her face as she bids Kyra good night and puts Harper to bed.

Hot stuff❤️🥵

"Hey, made it home, alright. Sister might kill me though 😳😅😂"

Katrina 🔥❤️

"Yeah?"

Hot stuff ❤️🥵

"Yeah, turns out she did some digging while I was out... I forget she's a soccer nut sometimes, annnd... well, you can probably guess. 👀"

Katrina 🔥❤️

"Tell her I'm happy to sign anything she wants as long as she leaves you alive. You're not getting away from me just yet."

Hot stuff ❤️🥵

"I'll arrange something, I like being alive."

Katrina 🔥❤️

"I like you being alive, too."

Hot stuff ❤️🥵

"I like you 👀"

Katrina 🔥❤️

"You better, I don't kiss just anyone on the first date."

Hot stuff ❤️🥵

"Does that mean I get a second one?"

Katrina 🔥❤️

"😉 Ask me"

Hot stuff ❤️🥵

"Aboslutely beautiful, gorgeous, sweet Katrina, go on a date with me?"

Katrina 🔥❤️

"🤔"

Katrina 🔥❤️

"No"

Hot stuff ❤️🥵

":("

Katrina 🔥❤️

"I'm kidding you dork, of course I will. Call me tomorrow too and I'll plan this time?"

Hot stuff ❤️🥵

"Will do 🥰"

Hot stuff ❤️🥵

"Sleep tight, gorgeous 😘"

Katrina 🔥❤️

"You too 😘🥰"

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

#katrina gorry imagines #katrina gorry imagine #katrina gorry x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #Spotify

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ryutaria · 10 months

Text

When it Rains...

Synopsis: There was scarcely anything that scared Al Haitham... and losing (Y/N) might be one of them...

Word Count: 3.5k+

Tags: alhaitham x f! reader, angst, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, Student Al Haitham! x Student Raeder, sfw, burn out, verbal bullying, false accusations, stressful academic life, Akademiya setting,

A/N: This is my first post so please don't go hard on me..

The warm rays of the setting sun were splayed across the evening sky, casting an ethereal glow over the surroundings, a soft fading luminance evident in the environment. The winds remained soft as they passed through the Avidya forest and encircling the once still Divine Tree, tickling through their leaves in the process as they made their way through the open windows of the Akademiya. A certain calmness prevalent in the environment ... but not resonating with the state her mind chose to remain in...

Her footsteps echoed through the halls of the Akademiya, rushing past the cluster of few students who chose to remain late as she made her way to the House of Daena, struggling as she stumbled with the number of scrolls, files and a couple of hardbound books clutched against her chest, cradling in her fragile arms. Her eyes could see Iris in conversation with her sister and the moment she chose to pass by them - "Y/N!".... People didn't like to leave her alone, do they...

"What do you need Iris?" Her voice snapped: on the verge of breakdown as she struggled to remain civil for she didn't want to project her anger onto someone who wasn't even responsible for it. "Oh... It seems you're busy..."- disappointment laced her tone- "But it's alright! We can always talk tomorrow right" and there was her kind smile. And for the first time in her life (Y/N) felt grateful to all the Archons that she had befriended Iris. Her lips tried to imitate hers as she returned the expression albeit forcibly before scurrying past her. Tomorrow... As if she would even be able to see tomorrow...

(E/C) eyes watered a little as the doors of the greatest library in all of Teyvat came into her view, her breathing turning heavy - rushed even - as her steps picked up their pace. She slowly entered through the giant wooden doors, the quietness in the library which once seemed inviting now sending shivers down her spine. Her eyes scanned through the aisles before landing on her Professor, seated in one of the reserved tables for the teachers and other professionals. She sighed as she readjusted her books only for them to go tumbling down her arms as they broke the silence with a loud thud, attracting the attention of all the patrons inside and a few sneers and cold looks. Quickly squatting down, (Y/N) hurriedly picked her academic materials up, her files crumpling a little in the process - her completed assignments over which she had lost three days' worth of sleep. A stray tear droplet managed to fall upon the floor but she held her ground lest the dam of her bottled up tears broke through her tough façade.

The frustration was evident in her grip as she brushed off her robes before walking towards the Professor.

"Good evening Sir" she greeted politely standing at a respectable distance from him. He chose to ignore her presence at first, his attention remaining on the scroll he held in his hand while slowly sipping his tea. "Sir..." and his head turned to meet her eyes and a smile laced his features and she could tell it was all a pretense just like the other lecturers and higher ups. "I'm here to submit my thesis." and her file replaced the scroll in his hand.

His eyes scanned through her papers with the same scrutinizing gaze, eyebrows raising every few moments indicating he had found an error amongst her work. And then after with a deceitful smile he placed down the file on the table.

"Tsk tsk... Miss (L/N)" the Professor spoke, his torso twisting a little in his chair as he craned his neck to look at her directly in the eyes. "The ruins of Devantaka have already been studied thoroughly by the scholars here." and he dropped her carefully arranged papers to the floor, "And to think that Ley Lines hold a connection to the ruins.... that seems far-fetched."

"But Sir! The energy binding the ruins-"

"Enough of your hazy thoughts (L/N). I've more pressing matters to deal with~" and he got up from his chair with the forgotten scroll in his hands. "Get the thesis rewritten in a week." - the words she had been hearing for over a month. "And I don't want any blasphemous theories again or I might have to fail you... or might as well kick you out of my lecture" And his footsteps faded as he walked away.

(Y/N) could hear the snickers and sneers coming from the surrounding students who happened to be the audience of the interaction. Tears began to well up in her eyes as a lump formed in her throat. With shivering hands, she picked up her papers, her vision becoming blurry as she got to her feet. Yet she held her calm then, walking out of the library before anyone could spot her wiping her eyes on her sleeves. And yet a certain someone in a secluded corner of the library did notice the turmoil she had carefully concealed behind those (E/C) eyes.

Her thoughts were scattered all over the place, depressing thoughts and turmoiled emotions causing a havoc in her mind as she walked out of the Akademiya and onto the city streets.

The night felt inky and cold, dark clouds overcast over the skies and soon thick droplets of water descended from the skies. The residents hurried past her as they avoided the showers of rain but she welcomed them with teary eyes... for she needed something to drown her sorrows in. (Y/N) smiled at her own misery, even the Archons pitied her today. The weight of the world too heavy upon her shoulders as she inhaled sharply.

"Her thesis got rejected for the sixth time, did you know?"

"And to think that Iris told us she was the brightest in Vahumana. Ha! Now her true colors are showing!"

"I bet she'll be expelled this time for sure."

And (Y/N) quickly wiped her tears as she rushed through the rainy streets - her attempts to shield her files and books failing as she found a secluded corner in the streets, an overhanging tree giving her a little shade as she slowly sank down on her knees. She really deserved it all, didn't she? The warnings of her mother must be true...

"Why the Akademiya? You can simply help out your brother with business." And she had held her head high when she said she thrived off knowledge and wished to cultivate more of it. Her father had been her only support but when he too passed away due to Eleazor, the ridicules of her mother and brother became overbearing. In a haste to prove herself she had left home to rent a small apartment close by to the Akademiya. The loneliness was overbearing but she held on, hoping the future would be bright and yet here she was... Her dreams getting crushed under the heavy expectations and ridicules of the world around her and she wondered how long it would be this way...

His breathing became ragged as he rushed out of the Akademiya, his usual calm demeanor fading the moment he saw her leave the House of Daena. "Al Haitham!" and those words fell on deaf ears as Kaveh stared questioningly at him hurrying past the hallways. 'Strange' thought the blonde for he had never seen Al Haitham in such a rush. "It's her isn't it?" Tighnari added as Cyno hummed in approval - the trio staring at the ash-haired male fade away from their vision.

"I'm so annoyed you know. Why can't he just tell her?!" Kaveh said out loud, eyes narrowing as his fingers intertwined behind his head as he walked, Cyno and Tighnari following his pace. "It won't be Al Haitham if he just told her"And they couldn't agree more with Cyno.

And then after what felt like hours of searching - rain be damned - he found her huddled in a corner of the deserted street. He could see the way her eyes seemed lifeless. Her back resting against the overhanging tree's trunk as the books held loosely in her hands got drenched in the rain. (H/C) tresses stuck to her back as she stared lifelessly at the skies. His heart crumpled at the sight of her looking so... broken and empty...

Cautiously Al Haitham approached her, his steps resonating with those of a cat as he stood in front of her and yet she seemed so devoid of emotions, not even flinching as her eyes locked onto his. "Here to mock me again?" and his confidence faded as he kneeled to her level, "Archons no!" He tsked before carefully taking her hands in his larger ones. warmth spreading through her nimble fingers albeit the rain never stopped.

Al Haitham was a prodigy, hailed by the lectures and students alike, the 'Gem of Haravatat'. (Y/N) had first stumbled upon him at the library, turquoise eyes reading through the pages as he sat unbothered at a secluded table in the corner. "D'you mind if I join?" she had asked him and he had grunted in response without even sparing a glance at whoever had interrupted his peaceful afternoon. After an hour and a half when the intruder still remained seated, his patience started running thin. The ruffling of sheets and the scribbles of her quill becoming somewhat hard to ignore as his eyes finally lifted to take in her appearance and Archons, mesmerizing was an understatement.

There wasn't something necessarily captivating about her appearance but he felt drawn to her. A moth to a flame but only this moth... refused to be cauterized. He started noticing her everywhere... The Puspa Cafe where she regularly indulged in Padisarah pudding as she laughed with Iris and her younger sister, the secluded corridors of the Akademiya where she sneaked to sleep whenever she could find time. And he also knew for a fact that she didn't drink for she despised the smell of liquor.

"I can't Iris..." (Y/N) pleaded with her friend Iris at the tavern. "But it'll be so much fun!" added Janaki, another one of her classmates "And besides, Kunikuzushi is here too... I heard he's quite interested in you" and Al Haitham didn't know why his blood boiled at the mention of another man's name. "But you know I hate the smell of alcohol! Its... nauseating, please!"

"Leave her alone would you?" his voice had boomed startling his group of friends which included Kaveh, Tighnari and Cyno. And with a thankful look she had scurried away and out of the tavern, Al Haitham following after her. And that was when he had really talked with (Y/N).

Their meetings weren't necessarily frequent - the Akademiya kept them busy but subtle glances cast each other's way and knowing looks in the House of Daena were enough for the two. An year passed and they became close friends before everything fell apart.

"Did you hear? (Y/N) was suspended for plagiarism." And Al Haitham's ears perked up at the mention of her name.

"Really?"

"Yes! And to think that she would do that to Farahnaz! How evil! " And those words were the last he heard before he walked out of the library to confront (Y/N) only to find her in conversation with the sage of Vahumana himself. Tears pricked at her eyes as she pleaded with him to hear her cause before she was taken away by one of the matras as her screams echoed off the walls. He heard the Sage in conversation with the Mahamatra and his ears couldn't beleive what they heard. Farahnaz had carefully translated the ruin engravings and their energy sources found in the Devantaka. She had trusted (Y/N) to keep her findings safe for she had been suddenly taken ill only to find out that (Y/N) had tried to publish her work under her own name.

He felt betrayed and... yet he couldn't bring himself to walk away and followed after her only to find her sobbing profusely in an empty classroom.

"(Y/N)?" he had questioned cautiously, "You okay?" and she didn't reply. Therefore, he decided to enter inside only to meet a hysterically crying (Y/N) burying her face in his chest. He stayed unmoved, not being able to hold her in his arms as his voice echoed -

"Why did you do that?" the words had slipped out on their own as he met her wide-eyed teary gaze as she slowly lifted her head up to meet his eyes.

"A-Al Haitham, N-No... I...you didn't-" and that was all he ever heard before she pushed him away, backing away from him and out of his reach as she mouthed the last words she ever spoke to him then after as she left him alone in the empty classroom...

"You're all the same..."

Weeks later after fighting through it all on her own, it was discovered that (Y/N) was not the one at fault. Farahnaz had faked her illness before she had bribed a matra to publish those findings under (Y/N)'s name. And turns out that her findings weren't really authentic for after further investigation it was discovered that Farahnaz had indeed carried out Mosaic plagiarism of (Y/N)'s source materials and the scrolls she had kept under investigation. Her last words before expulsion being how she had really hated (Y/N) for outsmarting her and wished to any Archon who would hear her to bestow all the hardships in her life.

"I hope you rot" Farahnaz had spat as she was dragged away on the orders of the General Mahamatra along with the matra who had helped her out.

"I knew she was innocent" Cyno had reminded him yet again that day and he couldn't help but feel regret. How could he not for he had always valued logic and rationality above it all and yet he was... blindsided by mere rumors without diving in deep to uncover the truth. Even the minds of wisest men can get plagued by false rumors at times. After all no one can truly escape the frivolous human nature. Kaveh had cast him a disgusted look, still did as he asked him if he would ever apologize.

Now Al Haitham had tried to make amends with you, a failed attempt to mend the broken thread of friendship he had once held so close to his heart.

"Don't bother 'Haitham... I can't trust you yet again..." and there was no spite in your words, just emptiness and sorrow lacing them and it shattered his peace of mind to see you like this. "I can't face you anymore... not when you're the person I trusted the most..." and she had turned her back to him before mouthing ever so softly "Not when you're the person I loved the most..." and she walked away and out of the House of Daena... not sparing him the look over her shoulders she always did, the last of her words whispered for only his ears to hear "Not when... you're the person who hurt me the most" and his eyes widened with his bleeding heart. She walked out of his sight, disappearing in the crowd of knowledge that was the Akademiya... and he felt (Y/N) might just have crushed him under those delicate steps.

Rationality and logic had provided him the answers to all the questions all this while... And yet his mind refused to accept the fact that he had been the one who had blinded by mere talks of the streets. But then again, the most rational of men at times have been a prey to humane frivolity and reckless thoughts.

And from then onwards Al Haitham swore to protect (Y/N) from all the evils of the world... even if it meant he had to work in the shadows... even when it meant staying away from her for he didn't want to break her heart anymore. However, seeing her in this frenzied state of weighing depression and anxiety broke his heart as if … he had failed to protect her from the demons yet again...

After the upliftment of (Y/N)'s suspension and the restoration of her title as an honorary student of the Akademiya, the rumors had still refused to subside. For three long months are enough for the development and brewing of all sorts of research and modifications to the original case.

"Look it's (Y/N). She does look smug for someone who was in suspension" a random Kshahrewar junior sneered as his peers laughed along with him.

Her footsteps increased their pace as she clutched her books further to her chest, walking to her morning class in a frenzied state. Little did she know, she would be greeted by her peers much harshly.

"Oh look who it is! (Y/N)(L/N)! Here to steal someone else's report?" Nima taunted, another friend of Farahnaz who refused to believe she was innocent.

"Oh please Nima, will you shut up?" said Iris as she glared at the brunette with a malicious look in her eyes. But the girl didn't seem to listen."Get lost before I cut off that tongue. That'll shut you up, yeah?" and the class felt silent when Kunikuzushi spoke up, his voice sending chills down Nima's spine, albeit the whispering never stopped.

"Be careful Kuni. You might be her next victim!"

"You sick little-" but (Y/N) was quick to grab Iris's arm before the venom spewed out. 'It's not worth it' she had said as she guided them to an empty table.

(Y/N) and Iris sat side by side awaiting their professor and she found solace in her only friend. Iris had helped her out with most of the reports and case studies in order to gather evidences against Farahnaz and she had been surprised when Kuni had volunteered to do so too. She was grateful to both of them in so many ways but the weight of the world around her seemed too heavy and Al Haitham seemed too far away... having had left a scar on her chest where her heart belonged, broken yet beating...

She would often sneak glances of him in the House of Daena or in the streets of Sumeru, quick to look away before his turquoise could meet her (E/C). Too broken to reach out... too hurt to let go... But the little things she missed out were filled in by his presence. He still wondered how she failed to notice that he was always around her... looking out for her but never directly and he wondered if she chose to ignore her presence. Nonetheless he was thankful for she would have been more hurt if he still reached out... or so was what the ever rational Al Haitham thought.

He had been observing her conversations with the Professor for a fair few days now. How he had always disregarded her opinions made his blood boil yet he was helpless right then for he couldn't really directly step in when the higher officials and scholars were involved.

"It all seems very vague you know... Not even close to the point" he had laughed as he thrusted the folder in her arms.

"But Sir, here me out! The recent develop-"

"Redone and submitted on my desk. Coming Monday" and again she was left frustrated and with tears.

She longed for someone to help her out and her heart would always call out for a certain ashen-haired male yet her mind would remind her how effortlessly he had broken her. She couldn't ask Iris for she was too busy with her own thesis and Kuni had gone to explore the Avidya Forests for a few days. She felt alone and lifeless and all she wanted was to break down until she heard someone say -

"It'll be okay (Y/N)..." his voice barely above a whisper as he pulled her close to him. And she wailed in his arms, too weak and hurt to push him away as she gave into the instincts of her heart.

"I'll make it all better, I promise" he kept whispered soothing words in her ears as his arms wrapped around hers as if attempting to shield her from all the pain, worries, turmoil and miseries the world had been putting her through. And he regretted that he had been the one who had added to them the most.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered when he felt her breathing calming down, the shiver in her shoulders slowing as she attempted to speak...

"D-Don't leave m-me...p-please" choked words whispered through trembling lips and he embraced her even tighter. Whispers of 'I'm sorry' and 'Never leave you again' echoing in the showers of droplets as they remained in each other's embrace for quite a while...

"Let's get you home (Y/N)" he said but his words fell upon deaf ears. On further coaxing he realized that she had fallen asleep in his embrace, unbothered by the rain as exhaustion took over her body. His heart hurt as he noticed the dark circles and chapped lips. Therefore, he took it upon himself to keep her safe and comforted.

His warm coat was shed off his shoulder, coming around her small frame to wrap her up in his warmth. "Hai...tham... don't go" she whispered in her sleep and his heart skipped a beat yet again.

"Never again (Y/N)" he promised, an oath he was committed to never break until his last breath and he slowly placed a fleeting kiss upon her forehead.

Lifting her up in his arms he made his way to his own home, his coat having had been wrapped around her sleeping form in an attempt to provide warmth as he walked down the city streets, ignoring the whispers when he neared his home for Al Haitham despised idle chatters with a sheer passion after a certain incident almost wrecked his once peaceful world.

However, with (Y/N) in his arms and his embrace he felt he could be at peace again.

Taglist: @teapartyspilled

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham fanfic #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham angst #genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #alhaitham x yn #alhaitham comfort #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #al haitham #yae publishing house #ryutarites

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heartshapedcigaretteburns · 3 months

Text

Situationship! Simon "Ghost" Riley

Pt. 2 of this

(This gif gets me bro. Stop looking at me like that omg 🤭🤭💦)

Neither of you really remember the contents of that drunken night enough to have predicted this life changing event. Everything in your lives continues as normal for about 3 weeks. It's about a week into Simons 2 month deployment when you start feeling the classic symptoms of pregnancy. First it's the missed period- whatever, you've had irregular periods since you were 13 so it doesn't particularly worry you especially since you and Simon were always safe (😬). The soreness of your breasts happens soon after that and then it's the nausea and bloating. At this point you're still clueless. You assume it's your late period finally deciding to show up (it's not your fault that early pregnancy feels the same as starting your time of the month.)

However, when 2 more weeks pass with all of the same irritating symptoms but no period you decide to give your doctor a quick call just to see if it's necessary to come in for a visit at this point. You set an appointment for the next day as she recommends just to make sure it's not a hormone issue or something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you're sitting on the stiff hospital bed, a nurse comes by to ask a few questions to help your doctor when she comes in later. It's the normal questions- “What are your symptoms?” You list them off. “How long have you had these symptoms?” “About 2 weeks.” “Any allergies to medication?” “No.” “Are you sexually active?” “Yes” “Is there any chance you could be pregnant?” “No. Wait-” Condoms aren't 100% effective tho so there's a sliver of a chance. “Maybe?"

“Well it couldn't hurt anything to do a test."

You doubt you need it but it's better to be safe anyways (see what I did there?) She brings you a cup and instructs you to pee in it and bring it back to her and you think of how embarrassing that is as you walk to the bathroom. Once the job is done you rush back to your room like a man on a mission, your mission is to not be seen carrying a cup of your own pee around.

You're talking to your primary doctor about your symptoms when the nurse walks back with a cheshire grin on her face and clipboard in her hands. “Well Doc, I think we know what the diagnosis is.” She gushed as she handed the clipboard over to the doctor. “Y/n, congratulations. You're about 6 weeks pregnant.” Your doctor remarked with less enthusiasm than the nurse, unsure how you feel about the news. “You have multiple options moving forward. You can keep the baby, you can-" You snap back to reality at these words and interrupt with a harsh “I'm keeping the baby."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From then, you move forward with appointments and start looking for a better apartment to raise a child in. Though you wish you could contact Simon to tell him, you're quite thankful for the opportunity to process it for yourself. It also gives you plenty of time to prepare yourself for his possible reaction. You know this is strictly casual and he doesn't want kids in the future, let alone at this point in his life. Considering this, you ready yourself to lose him before you ever even have him and have to raise this kid alone.

You were hoping that Simon would eventually come around to your charm and your relationship would gradually become less and less casual but you're sure this will scare him away for good. You are incredibly disappointed that you'll never know what it's like to be loved by him but you can't imagine not raising this baby. You're not sure whether you'd prefer the baby to be more like you or Simon. As much as you'd love to get to see him in the tiny person that you created together, you don't want to be reminded of what you could've had.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon goes to text you to tell you he's coming back a bit earlier than previously thought but decides that this time he'll surprise you by showing up at your doorstep. God he's missed you so much. He's missed your smile and pretty eyes. He's missed your voice and the way you laugh at his grim “jokes". He's missed the way your mouth feels wrapped around his cock. He can't help crawling back to you.

He arrives at your door with takeout and a bottle of red wine and woefully unprepared for the sight he's about to be met with. When the door finally creaks open, he's face to face with you once again but something's different now. Now there's a barely noticeable but definitely there baby bump. His eyes instinctively glue themselves to the soft swell of your tummy as he just stares with a completely unreadable expression. “Simon-" “Y/n." You can't help the tears that start to sting at your eyes. “Surprise?" You croak out painfully, under the impression that this is the last crumb you'll ever get of Simon."You're-”

"Pregnant” you cut him off. “It's mine?" “Of course." The tears that blur your vision drop and trail down your cheeks as he watches your lip tremble.

He welcomes himself into your home, setting his things down on your entryway table and pulling you in close. He holds you tight, cradling your head in his hands lovingly. “Don't cry love. Why are you crying?" He whispers softly into your hair. He rubs your back soothingly as you sob into his chest “Don't wanna lose you. I'm sorry, Simon, I know you don't want this."

It's at this moment he recalls that night he drunkenly bred you. Suddenly his eyes darken with an unknown emotion and something in the air shifts as he discovers that side of him for the first time again but sober this time. It's like something primal clicks in his brain and he's looking at you lustfully. He brings his hand down to cup your swollen belly and drops his mouth down to drop a tender kiss on your lips. “If I remember correctly, this is my doing Lovie" he whispers against your soft lips. “What do you mean?" You ask perplexed. You don't know what’s going on. He's not freaking out. For some reason he's saying this was his doing. “You don't remember?" Simon teases as he slowly picks you up and starts marching to your bedroom."Remember what? What are you talking about, Si?” your worry dissipates fully and now you're more confused and curious than anything as he carries you off. “Guess I'll just have to show you." He threatens as he lays you down on your bed.

Best believe you remember by the end of the night.

I actually loved writing this omg this was way out of my comfort zone with the way I chose to write it but I like how it turned out. I hope you guys enjoy it too. As always, ignore any spelling or grammar mistakes. Love you 😽💞

Taglist: @mytherapisttoldmenotto

#cod fanfic #kyle gaz garrick #cod x reader #john price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #ghost cod #john soap mctavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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greythemed · 10 months

Text

𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ bloodhounds . kim gun-woo

˚ TITLE 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ perverse behavior. ˚ WORD COUNT 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ 1875.

"would you ever fight me?". the question came from nowhere, in gun-woo's opinion. the ringing sound of the seoul traffic outside of his mom's apartment high enough for the boxer to not pay the deserved attention to you, his ears getting cold from the snowy weather out-of-doors.

gun-woo was tired.

his mom had to reheat the food because of his delay and he felt bad about it. plus, you were waiting for him to watch boyz n the hood for the very first time, after weeks of complaining he didn't watch proper shows on his teenage years.

what do you mean you've never watched the last game and asphalt man?! you are not korean if you've never watched those! you have said it in such a thrilling way that gun-woo hadn't the heart to say no to you, and now it's been three weeks that both of you are marathoning different korean tv series every thursday night.

he was still carrying his boxing gear on his shoulders when you had jumped him into the entryway, making the man almost lose his balance while his mom excitedly greeted him from the kitchen.

"woah, when did you get in here?", was his first question when he felt your arms trying to wrap around him, two kisses pressed on your face as usual, before kicking the door closed behind him and lifting you in his arms.

"turns out I and your mom are besties now", you had said with so much confidence that he had to turn around to look at his mom to confirm it in the kitchen. "she taught me how to properly cook samgyeopsal and i was stunned with the amount of gochujang comes with it!".

gun-woo giggled at the surprise, tapping at your leg three times so you could get up and help his mother with the dishes. his tense physic was viscerally beaten by his coach today, and he doubted he could stand for more than two minutes without collapsing on the floor.

that's why your question had him exceptionally shocked while devouring his mother's samgyeopsal minutes later, salty lips outlined in a 'o' form while looking from his mother to you in confusion.

"what?". he asks.

"would you ever fight me?". you repeat genuinely curious for the answer.

"no". gun-woo answered simply, round innocent eyes staring right back at you as if you had grown another head.

you slouch back in your seat. cheek pressed to the couch as you look disappointed at your boyfriend eating at the table.

"why not?". you both could hear gun-woo's mother laugh on the other side of the table, finding something to quickly excuse herself from the living room and eavesdrop on the entire ordeal from her room.

"w-why?", gun-woo analyzed your posture to see if you were pranking him or something, but he found none. "i d-don't think that would be nice... for any of us". he replied with a terrified look on his face, the scar on his cheek hid underneath his right hand.

"just for your information, i was a gold medal in taekwondo once in school". you defend yourself.

"when you were 8 yeah, i know".

“and!”, you continue, ignoring him. “woojin-oppa already told me i was quite strong for someone my height”.

“baby, woo-jin just wanted you to pay for his dinner that day, you know that”. gun-woo explains blatantly, making you gasp at his lack of manners.

"i wanna fight you though, i could totally beat you", you said getting no response from the fighter, which was starting to infuriate you even more. "kim geun-woo, do you love me or not?". you asked starting to get up from the couch.

"stop looking at me like that, you're scaring me". you roll your eyes, getting up from the couch and walking towards your very tall and built boyfriend who refuses to fight with you. "what's up?". he looks up at you, wondering what the hell happened to his girlfriend that night.

"fight me". your serious tone shouldn't have a strong man like gun-woo scared, but that's what it does.

"look, i'm tired today okay? give me a second". he whines like a child and you would be finding him adorable because of his pout if it wasn't for the scar across the right side of his face staring right back at you.

hot unaware boyfriend indeed.

"kim geun-woo, don't you love me?" you hold the collar of his shirt, brows knit together in fake intimidation as gun-woo raises a brow your way.

“ya, you’re scaring me”, he repeats the statement looking at you as if challenging you to do what you are thinking. "you're not going to let me live if i don't fight you right now, are you?". he rubs the plush of your clothed thigh and you slap his hand away, glancing in the direction of his mother's room with your brows still furrowed, surprised at his bold antics.

"mister kim, you are under arrest for perverse behavior with your ring opponent".

"arrest?". his brows shoot up and a big smile emerges from his mouth. "aish-, don't be so hard on me, judge". he plays along, rubbing your waist quickly before taking your hands off his collar. “if you succeed in moving me from the chair, i’ll fight with you”. gun-woo had that stupid smirk he has when he’s about to win something.

you were about to prove him wrong.

“deal!”.

in instant seconds, you’re already beside him, using your entire body weight to push your boyfriend off the chair. the clock begins to tick away as gun-woo calmly finishes his dinner, enjoying a little too much of your little grunts as if you were not even beside him.

“how…much….did…you…eat today?”. a stupid grin was displayed on your boyfriend’s face when you gave up and you did not appreciate it.

it seems mister kim liked the ego soothing, after all, he was still just a man.

“why are you even smiling like that?!”. immediately, his grin was erased as if it was never there in the first place. “i’m 100% sure it is just because of the samgyeopsal your mom made. have you seen how much pepper that woman put into that?! no? i have!”. gun-woo laughed loudly at that, wondering in which standup comedy mister hong found you.

just when he thought it was over, you kept pushing his shoulders in the other direction, making him laugh even more.

“you’re not giving up, are you?”.

“never!”. gun-woo had to breathe calmly to steady his laughs and gently push your hands away.

“c’mon let’s clean this and go to bed, right?”. the gentle smile his lips displayed was hands-down playing unfair in your opinion. you could tell it in his eyes he was tired, defeatedly letting him go. “if you keep grunting my mom will come asking if everything is alright”. his gaze was so gentle that it almost made you angry.

“it is not alright”. you played the puppy eyes on him, hugging his figure while he moved from the table to the sink to clean his dishes.

that's when you noticed his little wince when you hugged his torso.

“my boyfriend didn’t let me win, he doesn’t love me”.

“you’re just weak, admit it”. again, the smirk was there and you hated it.

“where do you think you’re going with this audacity, mister?”. you unglued him and crossed your arms in front of the sink, taking the dishes from his hands and stopping him from doing any more work today. you both stared at each others eyes with fondness, silently speaking your concerns.

kim geun-woo, you do not fool me.

“anywhere i want, since you can’t stop me”. he laughed out loud, and you knew then that your boyfriend was more tired than he was showing. he only showed his boldness in other situations, so it was really surprising you his sense of humor right now.

which made you worry.

“ya, how much you and wonsuk-subaenim trained today?”, you asked concerned, putting the dishes aside to analyze his eyes on your tip toes. “you should’ve eaten more before training this morning”. there was an unconscious pout on your lower lip and gun-woo noticed that, smiling weakly while gluing your body into his.

“don’t worry, i’m okay”. he smiled grateful, even bowing his head a little in gratitude for you, a peck left in your brow that made you temporarily dumb. "he just wanted to test some more of my limits".

"are you sure?". starry eyes staring right back at him was hands-down an unfair playing, in his opinion. "can i see it?".

of course, you would notice it, gun-woo knew that much. but even so, he didn't want to make his mom worry more about him, and so did you.

"can we do that when we get home?", he politely asks while rubbing your arms, tone not much louder than a whisper now that the topic was more serious. "i wanted you to take a look but mom's here and i don't want her finding out about the championship yet". he explains.

"are you sure?", you ask worried, soothingly rubbing the balmy spot you could feel underneath his sweater next to his left rib. “it feels damp, oppa”.

gun-woo glanced at you and stopped your hand in the rem of his shirt with a silent plead, silently asking for you to let go. his kind smile and polite nod convinced you that the bruise could wait a little more, and you had no other option than to trust him.

“what happened?”.

“we used the machine again”, he starts explaining sensing your curious concern. gun-woo knew that you needed a little more reassurance, since you weren’t used to leaving patients with bruises behind in your line of work. “it presented a little malfunction, two sizes above mine and i almost went flying across the wall”.

“you and your stupid machines”. you scold angrily, making him laugh. “why train with a fucking machine when you pay thousands to have a coach like him?”.

“it’s solved now, don’t worry”. you looked in his eyes searching for any sign of discomfort. you knew about his surprisingly high pain tolerance, even for a fighter, plus your boyfriend tend to have a habit of hiding his sorrows from you.

intensively staring at him, gun-woo noticed by your eyes that you were quickly going to get lost in your own thoughts, so he had to react rather fast.

“hey, i’m good now, okay? we got 8 months for the tournament and i’m doing pretty well, i’m not going to lie”. he took your face in his hands, making you focus on his pretty eyes and his innocent smile. “do you trust me, baby? i’m okay”.

"okay", you nodded understandable and he left another kiss on your right brow, proudly looking at you.

“you could’ve told me, i would have brought the food to your house so you wouldn’t have to drive more”. still not yet convinced, you check his temperature with your bare hands to check if everything is okay, guiding him to the couch so he could rest. “i will clean everything and then we can go, ‘kay? i’ll drive”.

“no, no, no, i’m okay. you don’t have to”. he excuses, refusing to sit down and taking your hands with him.

you hated his excessive politeness sometimes.

“ya, i’m calling your mom if you don’t obey me”. you threaten him and he lightens up a little. “now sit and wait, i’ll be quick”. when he finally sat down and smiled at you, you felt his grip on your wrist tighten again.

“you look too cute taking care of me”. a kiss was stolen from your lips and quickly your eyes were as round as your mouth.

“gun-woo! you’re crazy!”, the slap was maybe a little too much, but that’s not really your fault, now was it? “we are on your mother’s apartment!”.

“ouch! she is not even here right now, don't go nuts". he said rubbing the shoulder that you slapped. "for someone your height, you are quite strong, did you know that? jesus christ”. he mocked you with a pout.

"that's it, i'm suing wonsuk-subaenim's ass for making you delulu". you pretend to run away and gun-woo laughs at that, pulling you onto him one last time to kiss you.

"i am wounded, woman, have mercy". sometimes, you miss the unaware, irritably-innocent, and extreme-shy gun-woo you met a few months ago after he became friends with your cousin.

"kim geun-woo, behave or i am going to let you die on the streets".

"i'll accept it if you don't drive".

"are you calling me a bad driver?". the insult-

"no". he said nonchalantly, placing a last kiss on your cheek and letting you go. "let's go so we won't be late".

heya! a little disclaimer: everything i post is part of a one-universe post-ep8 that i've created, if that's okay. hope you liked it xx

#bloodhounds netflix #bloodhounds x reader #kim geun woo x reader #kim gun woo #woo do hwan #bloodhounds kim geun woo

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