#i did it it's done i never want to look at these gifs or this quote again
Text
Darlin' pt 7
pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5 / pt 6 / pt8
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (SMUT)
Description: After a close call Cooper gives in to his feelings for Reader.
Notes: This chapter is half smut. For those who don’t want that I don’t think you’d miss anything of importance in the story if you skip it.
TW: p in v, unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, pretty vanilla (sorry pervs lol love you I'm just not good at smut).
His scarred lips were rough against mine, one of his hands on my hip the other tangled in my hair. This was a moment I dreamed about my entire life. Someone who cares about me was never something I thought I’d have. While having a couple of fleeting flings here and there with my brother's friends, I never had a true romance. This feeling? It was straight out of one of my novels. When he finally pulled away, I couldn't help but let out a breathy sound of dissatisfaction. He gave me a teasing smile before taking the vials from my hand and shoving them into his bag.
"Let's go find you some Radaway, Darlin'. We’ll have ya feelin' better in no time." He said as he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the building.
"Thank god Lucy left the door open." I thought to myself as we made our way inside.
The place was huge and felt like a relic of the past. The rundown storefronts and flickering lights left much to be desired. I pushed my body against Cooper's back as an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Noticing my discomfort, he gave my hand a small reassuring squeeze. He was still in bad shape, clear as day, as he stumbled through the building.
After some exploration, we came across a room full of bodies. "Didn't know Lucy was capable of this." I gasped.
"I imagine these fellas did most of it." He said, kicking the boot of one of the men on the ground. He was holding a gun, but it didn't seem to have done him much good. While Cooper scanned the bodies, looking for anything of value, I started to wander over to some of the other rooms. One room in particular caught my eye, some of the things inside reminding me of the medical center we found Roger in.
"Don't go far," Cooper said as he huffed another vial before rummaging through the men's pockets.
"I won't," I mumbled as I looked back at him one more time before entering the room. I swallowed nervously as I looked around the room before setting my sights on some drawers in a cabinet. After some searching, I could some syringes with the word "Radaway" written on the side.
"Found some!" I said happily as I made my way back to Cooper to find him shoving vials of Jet into his hat. “That's so much!" I yelled in shock.
The happiness radiating from the two of us could have probably lit up a city. He looked up at me with the biggest smile I have ever seen on him before his eyes flitted to the syringe in my hand. He dropped his hat on the ground as he held out his hand expectantly.
"Let me help you with that." He stated.
I was perfectly capable of injecting myself, but I liked the idea of Cooper taking care of me, so after a moment of hesitation I passed it to him. While he was looking over the syringe, almost like he was making sure it wasn't fake, I took the time to look over his face. REALLY look it over. His leathery tan skin and his beautiful hazel eyes. I knew that many people looked at him with disgust, but I don't think that after getting to know him I could ever think of him as anything other than beautiful. I was so lost in thought I barely registered the needle going into my arm.
"There," He said with a satisfied tone. "All better."
"Thanks, Coop." I beamed up at him. I had some Radaway, Cooper had a lot of Jet, and he finally kissed me. Everything felt perfect.
Cooper knelt down to pick back up his hat when something caught his eye. A rectangular black box with glass on the front.
"What is that?" I asked curiously.
"That, darlin'." He responded, a look of shock on his face, "That is a television."
I ruminated on the word, trying to figure out if I knew it from anywhere as he grabbed something and inserted it into the television. He slowly made his way to the couch and plopped down. The expression on his face was something I couldn't recognize. Amazement? I sat down next to him as I looked at the television curiously, whatever it was it was affecting Cooper. The box sprang to life, lighting up as he pressed a button on the controller he was holding. The television played a video. "Of course!" I thought to myself as I remembered the stories of moving pictures. The man on the video reminded me a lot of Cooper. The western attire, the confidence, and of course the gun he was holding.
"Reminds me of you," I said innocently, not realizing the weight of my words.
"Nah, He ain't nothin' like me." He said quietly before looking over at me to scan my face before looking back at the video.
The man in the video was talking and I was trying to pay attention, I really was, but It was so long since I had sat anywhere but the ground, and while under normal circumstances I would call the couch uncomfortable, it felt like the most comfortable thing in that moment. I put my head on Cooper's shoulder and yawned.
"Tired already, sugar?" Cooper teased.
"Maybe a lil' bit," I admitted. "I could stay up a bit longer, though."
"For what?" He mused, almost like he knew what I was thinking.
I giggled, blush coating my cheeks as I whispered, "Maybe some more kissing?"
He hummed happily before pulling me onto his lap. I yelped in surprise at his sudden movement, grasping at his shoulders. “Now why would you want to kiss lil’ old me?” He was mostly joking, but an undertone of seriousness hung in the air.
“A better question is why wouldn’t I want to kiss you, Cooper? You are strong, you take care of me, you are handsome-“ I started to explain.
He scoffed, interrupting me. “I ain’t handsome.”
“You are!” I try to explain, “You have pretty eyes.” I said like I did days ago, back when he barely tolerated me. “And the way ya hold yourself is very… sexy.”
His eyes snapped up to mine, they were darkening, hungry. The embarrassment coursed through me and I could hardly stand it, so I buried my face in his neck.
“Awww getting shy, sugar?” He mocked. Before I could respond I felt his lips on my cheek. He stayed there for a moment before he started trailing down my neck, leaving tiny kisses in his wake.
I sighed happily as I pushed myself closer to him. I could’ve stayed that way forever, but Cooper had other plans. His hands were still on my hips from when he pulled me onto him. He slowly started to massage them before pressing me harder down on his lap. I let out a sound that was a mixture between a yelp and a moan.
“You like that?” He whispered in my ear.
I shook my head yes, my face still hidden in his neck.
“I wanna see you, darlin’.” He stated, his southern drawl slurred. He wasn’t demanding it, the tone in his voice was soft and hesitant, like he was worried he was going to scare me off.
Holding my breath I slowly pushed myself up. I was sure my face was red as a tomato as I made eye contact with him. When our eyes met, it felt like a damn had been released, lust flowing through me. “Coop,” I whisper before I start moving my hips on my own.
He let out a growl as he squeezed at my plush hips. “So soft.” He said.
“All for you, I’m all for you,” I say before crashing my lips into his.
The kiss was heady and passionate, I felt like I was drowning in him.
“Too many clothes,” I mumble against his mouth. Before I started to tug at his tattered duster jacket.
“I agree,” he sighed. Instead of helping me with his jacket, he ripped my hands from him and quickly tugged off my shirt, almost tearing it in the process. He sucked in a breath as he took in my bare chest. It was a sight to behold. Hair messy, half naked, and pupils blown. There was no way he could question if I wanted him, not anymore.
“God damn.” He groaned before leaning forward to kiss my chest. It’s like he wanted to kiss every inch of my body and I was starting to get impatient.
“Stop your teasin’,” I grumbled out, tugging at his jacket again.
This time, he obliged, quickly shucking it off before his hands started fumbling at his vest buttons. I cursed at him for wearing so many layers. I took this time to slide off his lap to take off my boots and pants, leaving me in nothing but my underwear. His hands stuttered as he threw off his vest and pulled off his shirt, distracted by the view in front of him.
“You, sugar, are way too good for me.” He muttered, his hands reaching out to pull me back onto his lap.
I moaned at the feeling of his rough jeans rubbing against me through my underwear. I could feel myself getting wetter, smearing my arousal on his pants. I rubbed my hands down his scarred chest before finding myself fiddling with his buckle.
“You want me?” I asked as I bit my lip. “Then take me.”
This seemed to flip a switch in him as he quickly spun me around so my back was on the couch. He hovered over me before kissing me fervidly. I undid his belt before popping open the button on his pants. He briefly pulled away from me to pull on his pants completely before slotting himself back on top of me.
“Darlin’,” he moaned as he rubbed his erection against my core.
I was so lost in the feeling I could barely respond, “Yeah?” I moaned out.
“There was more Radaway, right?” He asked. It was sweet that even in his lustful state he was still worried about me.
“Yes, Coop.” I responded, “Now fuck me already.”
He chuckled before mocking me, “So eager.”
He continued to tease me as he slowly pulled down my underwear, kissing down my legs as he went. I started to get dizzy, the arousal was becoming too much to bear. Finally, he pulled my panties off completely, kissing his way back up my body. I widened my legs as far as they could go, silently beckoning him inside of me. I heard him curse under his breath before slowly pushing himself into me. We let out moans in tandem, reveling in the feeling.
I put my hand on the back of his head and pulled him down so our foreheads were knocking against each other. I looked deeply into his eyes before I started to plead, “Fuck me, Cooper. Make me feel good. Please!”
“I could never say no to you.” He whispered before sheathing himself completely, his head brushing against that sweet spot inside of me.
He gave me a peck on the lips before trailing down my neck again, sucking as he went. The idea of having marks on me that everyone would see made me moan loudly. He was claiming me as his. I started to wiggle, silently begging him to move. After a few moments, he gave in, starting slow. It was intimate, sweet even. He wasn’t fucking me he was making love to me. He had barely started but I was already a babbling mess. Repeating his name like a prayer I begged for him to go faster. It didn’t take long for him to oblige, picking up his pace. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room. The bodies on the floor were long forgotten as we got lost in each other.
“Y/n,” he groaned my name, causing me to squeeze around him. “Sugar, you keep feeling this good I’m not gonna last long.”
I was feeling too good to respond, letting out soft squeaks and moans as he pistoned in and out of me. He snaked his hand down my body to start rubbing at my clit, causing my body to tremble. I was close and he knew it, trying to get me to the edge before he arrived there himself.
“Cooper!” I cried out as I convulsed underneath him, succumbing to the pleasure. I could hear him swearing above me before he stilled, letting out one last moan as he came inside of me.
The both of us were breathing heavily. Saying we were exhausted would have been an understatement. He took a moment before starting to pull out of me. I let out a sad whimper at the lack of contact, grasping at his arms. He let out a breathy laugh at my actions. “I’ll be back.” He said, reassuring me. I watched him with half-lidded eyes as he went into the medical room for a moment before coming back to me with another syringe of Radaway.
I snorted, “That could have waited.”
He didn’t respond, instead opting to give me a smirk before sinking the needle into my arm. Once he was done he grabbed ahold of me, rolling us over so he was underneath me on the couch.
As he was rubbing reassuring circles on my back he told me, “Sleep, darlin’.”
I hummed happily into his chest before giving way to his request.
Tag list: @bruhidkjustwannaread @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @whizbang-cap @topiramateagreeable @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @fallout-girl219 @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie @fanfictiongirly23 @gobbodoggo @erissco @helveticabold @katgirl05 @tfamidoingwithmylife @miketastic25 @alex-does-art-things
#cooper howard#the ghoul fallout#fallout tv series#cooper howard x reader#the ghoul x reader#fallout#the ghoul smut#cooper howard smut
462 notes
·
View notes
Text
Red, White & Blue | M Barzal
part three of blue, white & orange
-
Mat was miserable and it showed. It fed over into practices and his on ice performance.
The islanders bailed out in the second round, no thanks to Mat’s horrible playing.
He spent the off season at home, not his usual extravagant plans with you by his side. He only flew back to BC for a few weeks before he got home and back to work. He needed to get his mind off you.
You’d blocked him and seemingly moved as he dropped by your apartment only to meet a nice Swedish man named Jakob living there now.
Your jacket and jersey still hung over his dining room chair where he dropped them that night he got home. The jersey was still dirty from the floor and the jacket still smelled of her perfume.
When the season rolled back around in August Mat was all eyes forward. He still hadn’t heard from you and he was slowly but surely getting better.
The season opener was in Madison Square Garden, facing off against the rangers. He wasn’t worried, he just wanted the game to be done with. This team brought him nothing but horrible memories and feelings.
The game started strong, the islanders were on a positive beginning. They were leading by three going into the third. Mat was confident.
That was until he saw you on the jumbotron.
His breath caught in his throat when he saw your face, the smile he missed and loved so much. You were sat there wearing the thing that started all of this, that stupid jersey. The red, white and blue made Mat feel sick.
That threw him off. They lost. He just wanted to go home.
While heading back to the bus he heard someone shouting his name, turning to see Alexis calling for him.
He scowled “What do you want?”
Alexis rolled his eyes “Don’t forget she was my fiancé first… anyway, here” he thrusts a post it note into Mat’s hand
“What’s this?”
“That’s her new address” he explains and notices Mat’s confused expression “She still loves you Mat and all I ever wanted was for her to be happy if it was with me or you”
Mat took the post it with a shaky hand a soft smile “Thanks man…”
He gripped it tightly on the way back to UBS. Staring at it, as if trying to memorise it.
When he got back to his car it was the first thing he did, punch that address into his GPS.
When he arrived he sat in his car staring at the window of the apartment he had figured out was yours. It took him an hour before he finally had the nerve to go into the building and knock on your door.
He heard you call out “coming!” Before opening the door. You looked shocked to see him, suddenly aware of what you were wearing.
The blue burned Mat’s eyes. He wishes he could rip It off but he knew better.
“Mat-“
“I love you. I love you in this jersey, in my jersey - I mostly prefer you without anything to be honest!” He rambled, his hands flapping around
“You gave her my jacket” you mumble, curling back into yourself.
He shakes his head, scrunching his eyes closed “I- I didn’t give her it! Please just- she took it! She was cold and I turned my back for like a second. I had the jacket because I was coming to find you, to make up for what was happening between us”
You bit your lip “How do I know that?”
He shrugs “I can’t make you trust me but you know how much I love you, that’s never been in question. We fought, we were each jealous because we love each other so much so please don’t stay away from me any longer I can’t take it”
Your bottom lip quivered “How do you know we’re not bad for each other Mat?”
“Even if we are… I’m willing to take the risk”
You let out a shaky breath “Come here”
He immediately steps into the apartment and kisses you, both of you stumbling back a few steps. You feel him lifting up your jersey to reveal nothing underneath
“Mat!”
“I lied, I don’t love you in this jersey please get it off”
251 notes
·
View notes
Text
Coffee + Crosswords
Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader
Summary: It's Friday at Abbott and you spend a slow morning in the break room with Melissa and Janine.
Word Count: 3.3k
If you were to ask anyone at Abbott what their favorite day of the week was, they were guaranteed to say Friday. Unless you were to ask Barbara Howard. She would not hesitate to tell you that her favorite day was Sunday. Nonetheless, Friday was a day that everyone enjoyed because it meant the weekend was around the corner.
It was a day when things slowed down, and you could step away from the week's stressors and just breathe. Plus, if you were on top of things, you didn’t have to worry about grading papers or making lesson plans for a couple days. But you knew better than anyone that it didn’t always work out that way. Sometimes you still had work left to complete on the weekends no matter how productive you’d been at work.
The students also loved Fridays because learning for the week was done. The biggest task they had to accomplish was showing that they understood the material being taught. Your second graders loved the end of the week because they looked forward to taking their spelling tests. However, today was not about taking tests. The end of the first semester was approaching, and most teachers were counting down the days. It seemed like a lifetime away, and everyone was looking for a way to make the time go by faster. The strategy beloved by the kids, and their teachers if you were being honest, was to have a movie day. For you, there was something nostalgic about watching movies at school. It made you miss the days you were in your kids’ shoes.
It was around 10 o’clock, and you sat in the teacher’s lounge while your kids attended art class. Melissa was in the lounge with you since it was her free period, and you knew Janine was bound to show up at any moment since it was her break as well. You sat at the table near Melissa’s and talked about the events of your day.
You’d been teaching alongside the woman for over a year, yet you struggled to find your footing around her. One moment she seemed to enjoy your company, and the next she didn’t pay you any mind. However, she was up for discussion today, and the content of your conversation surprised you. She was following up on an issue you’d brought to her attention a few weeks back.
“Did you ever get that stuff figured out with your student?” She pulled her eyes away from the TV and focused on you.
“Oh, um, kind of.” Truthfully the answer was no, but you'd been holding onto hope.
Parent-teacher conferences recently took place, and you spoke with the parents of a student who struggled with math. Despite the effort you’d put into gathering the evidence–worksheets, quizzes, and even standardized test scores–they didn’t believe their child was struggling. Since Melissa had gone through a similar situation, you asked for advice.
Her face scrunched in confusion at your uncertainty. “What's that s'posed to mean?”
“Well, they’re still not budging, so…” You shrugged before slumping into your chair.
“So, what?” Melissa’s shoulders copied your actions, though hers were more pronounced. Her jacket rustled with the movement, the silver hardware clanking against each other. “You just gonna give up?”
Immediately, your posture straightened at the insinuation of admitting defeat. “What? No, I never said that!”
She wasn’t fond of quitters, so your reaction rubbed her the wrong way. “You coulda fooled me.”
Everything you tried had seemingly failed, and as a new teacher, that was discouraging. You’d never give up on your students though, so you had to see it through. “I’m in the process of putting a plan together.”
“Did you get in touch with the math interventionist?” That was one of her recommendations, and she wanted to know if you followed through.
“Yes, and they’re gonna work with him during the summer. You know they have an outreach program for the kids, but it depends on his parents' compliance. They're not gonna let anyone work with him if they don't see an issue.” She nodded in understanding, prompting you to continue on. “If not, they told me they'd work with him at the beginning of next year so he wouldn't slip too far behind, but I’ll believe it when I see it.” Since the district was short-staffed, the schools had to share resources. It was extremely inconvenient, but you had to make do with what you had.
She was pleased that you took her advice and that she wasn't just flapping her gums for the hell of it. “At least that’s something. It shows they're trying, you know?”
You sighed, upset at the fact that you were still at odds. “I guess, but I feel so bad. He’s having a really hard time, and he gets so frustrated with it. I’m afraid he’ll just give up. Especially since his parents aren’t on the same page.”
She agreed with the point you were making. “There's potential for that to occur, but it’s not a reflection of your teaching abilities.”
“It is though, isn’t it?” It was your responsibility to educate, so wouldn’t the blame rest on you?
“Not necessarily. We do what we can, but we aren’t always capable of filling in the gaps. Sometimes we have to recruit additional forces. It doesn’t make us failures 'cause we couldn’t do it on our own.”
You worked hard to ensure that your students were motivated to learn. If they ever lost their drive, you wouldn’t hesitate to help them regain it–even if it meant you had to spend time with them before or after school. Melissa’s words helped you realize that your setback didn’t stem from a lack of proficiency. “You’re right. It just sucks.”
“When have you known me to be wrong?” She smirked.
“Oh, whatever.” You rolled your eyes, still finding yourself laughing nonetheless.
“But seriously, it’s nothing you can’t handle. I know it’s tough, but you’re doing a wonderful job.”
You had no idea she noticed your teaching endeavors, though you should have known. She kept tabs on just about everyone and everything in your place of work. “Oh, wow. Uh, thanks.” You weren't sure what to say, not knowing if it was a compliment or simply an astute observation.
“Don’t thank me. Just keep doing what you’re doing. He’s lucky to have someone like you fighting for him.”
You smiled now, basking in the unmistakable praise. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you posted.”
“I’m gonna make another cup of coffee. You want some?” She stood from her seat, eyeing you as she awaited your answer.
“Nah, I'm good.” You shook your head, remembering that it wasn’t even noon and you’d already indulged in a few.
You absentmindedly scrolled through your phone as she busied herself with brewing a fresh pot. There wasn’t much to look at, so you opened the newspaper before you. You flipped through the pages, skimming some of the articles, then landed on the crossword section.
You’d been into word games lately, mostly playing apps on your phone, but you'd take advantage of the physical version today. Until Janine joined you two this would occupy your time. By the time the coffee was done brewing, you’d finished most of the puzzle but found yourself stuck.
“Blank Hurts, quarterback for the Philadelphia Eagles.” You read it more times than you could count before releasing a huff. It was the last answer you needed to complete the puzzle, and it was putting you through the wringer.
Melissa came to retrieve her creamer from the fridge and caught a glimpse of what you were doing. She squinted to get a closer look at the small print before pulling her glasses over her eyes. As soon as she read it, the answer was clear. She could only chuckle while watching you struggle. You were a Philly native, so to her, it was amusing that you didn’t know the players on your home team. When your huffing and puffing continued, she couldn’t bear the sound any longer.
“Jalen.” She uttered from behind you, solving your short-lived distress.
You glanced over your shoulder and met with the sight of her—arms crossed over her chest, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, and a grin tugging at her lips.
“Huh?”
Her heeled boots thumped against the linoleum flooring as she came into your direct line of vision. It wasn’t long before she stood next to you, mere centimeters away.
When she spoke again, her manicured finger was pointed at your phone. “Jalen Hurts. That’s the answer.”
You almost couldn’t process the words she spoke. Your senses were taken over by her amber perfume, the sweet, warm undertones paired well with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. After gaining enough resolve to write, you jot letters into the spaces.
She retreated to the other side of the room before you could say anything else, but quickly returned with a surprise. She slid a steaming cup of coffee across the table, propelled by a gentle hand. “You’ve got to be the only person who doesn’t know who that is.”
You frowned, but it was impossible to argue with her. Football was the least interesting sport in your opinion. Mainly because you didn’t understand a thing that was going on. “We can’t all be connoisseurs like you.”
“It’s common knowledge, hon.”
“Okay, Vince Lombardi,” you teased, referring to the woman as one of the NFL greats. That much you knew. “Thanks for the answer–and the coffee.”
“You owe me, big time,” she joked. “I made it how I like mine. If you think it’s gross feel free to toss it.”
“Are you crazy? I’d never waste a cup of caffeine.” Especially one you made for me, you wanted to add, but didn't thanks to your better judgment.
You sipped the warm beverage as you thought about your little interaction. It took a minute or two for your brain to reset to its previous level of performance. The organ worked double time to get her out of your head, but she managed to make a lasting image.
She was a woman of details, always so well put together. The all-black outfit paired with her array of gold jewelry was a classy, yet powerful choice. Her makeup was done perfectly, and her green eyes were adorned with the sharpest winged liner you'd ever seen. Striking red hair followed suit, strands curled neatly with color-coordinated cat-eye frames resting atop her head, giving the impression of an effortless blowout. She had a certain je ne sais quoi about her that intrigued you to no end.
You glanced over your shoulder once you heard the door swinging open. Janine walked in and smiled as she saw you and Melissa. She waltzed over to the table and her skirt flowed graciously behind her with the movement.
“Hi, guys!” She greeted the two of you. “Guess who caught up on all their grading?”
You exchanged hellos and excitement for the teacher as she made her way to the fridge. When she rounded the table with her snack, she stood firmly beside you and playfully nudged your shoulder.
“Whatcha doing?” she asked as she began to eat.
“Nothing much,” you sighed, “I just finished this crossword.”
“Oh, you did the one on the paper! I always did that as a kid.” She shared, smiling at the memory. She knew you were on a crossword kick recently and that you completed multiple every day.
“There was a clue on there about football, which I know nothing about.”
“That makes both of us.” She laughed before sitting in the seat next to you. “I may know a little more than you, though. At least I know what the players look like.”
“I know what some of them look like!” And by some, you meant none, but Janine already knew that. “Melissa helped me though.” You nod your head toward the woman's direction.
Janine looked at you with a glint taking over her eye that only you could read. You knew she was making a mental note to ask about the interaction later when it was just you and her.
“Oh! Melissa.” Janine smiled as she said her name, elongating the ending. “Are you ready for game night?”
Janine had planned a bonding activity for the teachers, like she did occasionally, in hopes that it would help everyone destress from their busy schedules.
“I’m ready to kick all your butts. Again.” Melissa was undefeated in a few games and took pride in that.
“Someone’s cocky,” Janine glanced at you.
“Nuh uh,” she waved her finger around. “It’s called confidence. Maybe if youse had more of it, you’d be able to beat me.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t play to win,” Janine stated with a satisfied smile. She always claimed that she was only there to have a good time, which in return received an eye roll from everyone.
“Yeah, that’s what all the losers say.” She moved her hand in a circle to emphasize the word ‘all’. She then stood up and pushed her chair underneath the table. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I gotta go find a movie for my kids to watch.”
As soon as she heard the door close, Janine turned to look at it for confirmation that Melissa was out of earshot. “So, Melissa helped you with your crossword, huh?”
“Oh my gosh, Janine.” You chuckled at her insinuation, noting the toothy smile she displayed. She had an inkling that Melissa liked you, but that was an overstatement.
“What?” She looked at you quizzically, though she knew exactly what you were trying to say.
“Yeah, so?” You shrugged nonchalantly, keeping eye contact with her. “She also gave me some more advice regarding the situation with my student.”
A look of "I told you so" crossed the woman's face. “Didn't I say it'd be a good idea to ask her? You should listen to me more often.”
“And she may or may not have made coffee for me.” You casually brought the mug to your lips, eyes closing at the pleasant taste. By some supernatural powers, she had made school coffee enjoyable.
The teacher gasped and her hand clutched your arm, startling you a bit. “Really? Oh my gosh!”
“Janine, please,” you pulled your arm from her grip. “You’re acting like a child.”
“Oh, whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “You know you love it.”
Though you tried to stave off your giddy expression, you cracked. “Must you have to read into everything?”
“Only the things that matter. Like how you're drinking out of her favorite mug.” She pointed at the cup, noting the teal and black ombré design.
“Now you're just making stuff up.”
“Are you kidding me? You cannot be this oblivious!” There was no way she was reading too deep into things.
“It's not oblivion. I'm just being logical.”
“How far has that gotten you?” A hand popped over her hip as she quirked an eyebrow toward you.
“Oh, hush.” You pouted.
During your time at Abbott, you and Janine developed a special relationship. You were a first-year teacher and Janine was in her second year, so you bonded over being new to the field. Teaching was hard for you to navigate in the very beginning. While Janine was still fairly new to teaching, she had learned a lot and grown tremendously in her first year. She was very resourceful and she shared a lot of her tips and tricks with you. Whenever you felt your insecurities getting the best of you, she would always be there to pick you up.
Because the two of you had become so close, she knew how you felt about Melissa. Janine was very attentive, and you couldn’t get anything past her. She could tell that being around Melissa made you nervous. It wasn’t because you were intimidated by her—you had gotten over that feeling within the first few months of working with her. You were drawn to her tough nature and how the energy shifted when she walked into a room. She was intelligent and had a great personality once you broke through her icy exterior.
Since the beginning of the year, all you wanted was to impress her, but every time you tried, you just embarrassed yourself. For a while, you weren’t sure why you cared so much. You didn’t know why what she thought mattered until you came to a conclusion halfway through the school year. It all mattered because you liked her. It was a strange thing to come to terms with, but you decided to let the feelings run their course. There was no harm in that, right?
“She's just in a good mood today. I’m 99% sure she sees me as the kid that teaches the same grade as her.”
“That’s not true,” Janine assured you, but she knew how Melissa could be. The woman had to warm up to you before she showed her true colors.
“It is and you know it.” You said affirmatively.
“She’ll come around.” She spoke as if she knew something you didn't.
You looked at her with doubtful eyes and you could see her facial expression change as she thought of an idea. Uh oh.
“I could put you and her on the same team tonight,” Janine said in a sing-songy voice. “Name a better way to get her to warm up to you.” She waited for you to answer, but you were heavily against this. Janine was the proud organizer of game night, which meant she was in charge of making the teams.
“I could actually think of several, much better ways.” You enlightened her. “She would eat me alive if we lost.” You were not competitive, and you knew winning was important to Melissa.
“Oh, come on, Y/N!” Janine practically whined. “It’ll be fine.”
“No.” You said firmly, standing from your chair as you noticed the time. You had to retrieve your kids from the art teacher in five minutes. Janine followed your lead and walked out of the lounge trailing behind you. You couldn’t even see her and you knew that she was sulking.
“Quit doing that.” You laughed, looking in the direction of the shorter woman. “It’s not gonna make me say 'yes'.”
“But–” She started but was cut off within seconds.
You whipped around to face her. “Remember what happened at the last game night? When you made her draw eight cards during Uno?”
Janine didn't answer though she knew exactly what you were talking about.
“Don't worry, I’ll refresh your memory. She ended up losing and didn’t speak to you for weeks. Weeks! I can't risk that.”
Janine ended up getting the victory and despite that, it was not a good night for her. “It’s fine, now.” Granted, she wasn't sure if it was, but it seemed like it.
“No. I refuse to let her give me the cold shoulder because of you.” It wasn't even about the crush at this point. You worked closely with her and wanted nothing to compromise that. Besides, she could hold a grudge like her life depended on it.
“Fine, I won’t do it.” Janine relented, though it seriously pained her. She believed wholeheartedly that she could shift the dynamic between you and Melissa.
Though she was defeated, something told you she wasn’t letting go. “Thank you,” you said before heading in the opposite direction to pick up your class.
“But let me know if you change your mind!” She added as you walked away.
That statement alone made you less confident in her ability to leave it alone. Though she meant no harm, she was hopeless. You knew she'd be fighting tooth and nail not to go against her word. Of course, she wanted to honor your wishes, but once she was set on a plan there was no going back.
Sure, Fridays were a fan favorite, but something told you this one would be the death of you.
A/N: Hello, Hello! This is just a little something to start your week off right. It's been sitting in my drafts for a while and I wanted to get it out. Also, part two of Kiss It Better is on the way! Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.
139 notes
·
View notes
Note
Gurll, lavender is my go-to reread everytime. Ig u are taking requests (😂🫶🏻), I would really like to see how Joel found out Doc was pregnant of Sylvie and those sweet pregnancy exchanges - like him being worried (‘cause in the original we skip the whole pregnancy). 😎
OMG Hi Bestie!!!
So you'll see some of this in Girl Dad, a canon one shot I did for Doc's birthday back in October. You see some of Doc panicking about Sylvie on her birthday because she's never made it further in a pregnancy and her birthday has just such an awful personal history for her and Joel loves her through it. We also see Joel being just a precious father to his newest baby girl.
BUT... here's some more of the pregnancy for you ❤️
Expecting
20 years after your first pregnancy, you find yourself expecting again. Things are a bit different this time. A Lavender Drabble.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender
Warnings: Pregnancy. Smut adjacent. No use of y/n. 18+ only Minors DNI
Length: 2k
September 2, 2024
The first time you threw up, Joel was on patrol.
It's not like you'd gotten your period since the two of you had started trying but you didn't put much stock in that. You'd never been regular and you were nearing menopause now. Missing a period or two was hardly monumental.
But the nausea the morning you woke up alone was.
You rocketed to the bathroom, doubling over the toilet, everything left in you from the night before coming up.
"Shit," you whispered, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand as your stomach still churned.
You knew this feeling. It had been a long time but you knew it.
And you knew you should be happy about it. It wasn't like last time. You and Joel were together now. Not just together, you were married. Things were secure - as secure as they could be in the apocalypse, anyway - and you were trying for this.
But it was still the apocalypse.
It was no small part of you that thought this wasn't going to happen. That you were going to try and try and then menopause would kick in and you'd never have a child you made with Joel. You'd resigned yourself to that a long time ago, that you'd never be a mother to someone that grew inside of you, never raise someone that you'd brought into being through love. You had Ellie who was your child in every way that mattered and that was more than enough.
But you were pregnant. You were sure of it. And you should have been happy about that - thrilled, in fact. Part of you was. The rest of you was terrified.
What had you been thinking? Bringing a child into this destroyed world? Would Joel even still want this now that it was real and not some imagined, idealized thing on the distant horizon? How were you supposed to protect a baby from the horrors of this reality? Even here in Jackson there was fear and risk and you'd gone and done this on purpose.
You didn't tell anyone, though the nurses at the clinic could tell you were off all day. You assured them that you were fine while trying not to panic. What if Joel changed his mind? What if, when faced with the reality of it, he didn't want to bring a baby into this world?
You threw up again that afternoon, the sickening feeling hanging around after everything came back up and you tried not to cry.
Joel got home after Ellie was already in bed that night, his patrol keeping him out late. You were pacing the kitchen when you heard the front door open and close quietly, the squeak of the floorboards under his heavy boots.
"Baby?" He frowned poking his head into the kitchen. "What're you still doin' up, it's late..."
"I know," you smiled a little, looking him up and down and taking stock to make sure he was still in one piece. "I'm glad you're back."
He smiled back, coming all the way into the kitchen to take you in his arms and kiss you, gentle and deep.
"You and me both," he said. "Gettin' too old to be sleeping rough like that, feel like I did my time with that shit getting out here..."
You laughed a little and nuzzled into him, breathing in the sweaty, woodsy scent of him.
"What's wrong, baby," he whispered, his arms enveloping you totally, holding you against him. "Can tell you got somethin' on that big brain of yours."
You pulled back from him just enough to see his face, his arms still holding you loosely. His face was smeared with dirt, the grime of the trail and sweat on his skin and his eyes were soft and warm and like home.
"I'm pregnant," you said softly. Those eyes got wider. "I know we've been trying but... It's real now and..."
"You're pregnant?" He breathed, stepping back from you, his hands going to your shoulders. You nodded, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. "Oh Baby..."
He took your face in his hands and kissed you again, so hard you could taste the passion on his tongue.
"Really?" He asked, his eyes searching yours as he pulled back from you and taking your shoulders again. You just nodded again, your heart pounding. "Fuck, that's... that's amazing, we're gonna... Baby, you're pregnant!"
"Yeah," you laughed a little. "Yeah, I am... You're happy?"
"Happy?" He laughed back. "Baby, I'm... I'm so far beyond fuckin' happy that word don't even begin to cover it."
He got to his knees in front of you, his hands on your hips, sliding around to cradle the small of your back as he looked lovingly at your stomach.
"You're pregnant," he said, awed, almost to himself. He pressed a kiss to you, over your womb, before one of his hands came to hold you reverently there. "Our baby is in you, right now."
"Yeah," you smiled, voice wet. "Yeah, they are."
"That's amazing," he whispered before looking up at you. "You're amazing, you're the most amazing thing I've ever seen..."
You ran your fingers through his curls before cupping his cheek.
"Thank you," you said, your whole being feeling lighter now, knowing that he was really in this with you.
"For what?" He asked, getting to his feet and pulling you against him again. "You're the one doin' all the work."
You smiled a little.
"For wanting this with me," you said quietly. "I was afraid... I'm still afraid. But we can do this."
"We can do this," he echoed you, kissing your temple. "You, me, Ellie, this baby. We're a family. We can do this."
You put a palm over your womb again, cradling where the child you'd made with Joel was growing inside you.
He was right. You could do this.
But things were different after that.
Joel hovered. It reminded you a bit of when he first came to the QZ, back when he thought his fear was something he could push past if he just got close enough. You’d be working at the clinic, turn around to pick something up and then Joel would be there. You’d be relaxing on the couch and decide you needed a cup of water and, the second you started to move, he was up instead asking what you needed.
“I’m perfectly capable of getting my own drink, you know,” you said a two months after you’d told him you were pregnant and Joel had damn near held you down instead of letting you go to the kitchen. “Also capable of walking to the mess hall on my own, making my own lunches…”
“All the work you’re doin’ growing my baby, I should do something,” he replied, bringing you a glass of water. “Seems like this is the least of it.”
You might have believed him if it wasn’t for the other things, too.
You’d become insatiable during pregnancy, all but demanding sex at least once if not twice a day. You couldn’t get enough of Joel but he seemed to be able to get enough of you.
It was close to Christmas when you finally brought it up, Joel’s hands more gently roaming over your skin rather than with any desire or need.
“We don’t have to do this if you’re not interested, you know,” you said, hoping you didn’t sound too desperate.
Joel frowned, looking over your face for a moment.
“What?” He sounded completely puzzled. “Why would I not be interested?”
“I know I look different now,” you ran a hand over your growing bump and took a deep breath. “It’s OK if you’re not as attracted to me at the moment…”
“In what fuckin’ universe am I not attracted to you?” He asked, his eyebrows knitting together. “Baby, if I could spend the rest of my damn life inside you, I’d be a happy man.”
Your confusion must have shown because he brushed your hair back before adjusting your face to look at him.
“What’s goin’ on,” he asked gently. “Why are you saying this stuff.”
“You don’t touch me like you used to,” you said quietly, hoping you didn’t sound too wounded by it. “And it’s OK if you don’t want me like that right now, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t really want and…”
“Baby,” he cut you off. “I’m gonna stop you right there. I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted you more than I do right now. Not when I first met you and you were some hot young thing, not when you first got off the plane to come visit, not when I first saw you again in the QZ. Seeing you grow our baby is the most beautiful, most sexy thing in the damn world, don’t go thinking otherwise.”
“Oh,” you frowned. “Then… I don’t understand. What’s going on?”
“I just…” he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking at you again, a pained look on his face. “I’m scared, baby. I’m scared in a way I ain’t been since we came to Jackson.”
“Joel,” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. “We’re OK here, we’re safe here…”
“I know,” he said. “You’re safe from infected and you’re safe from raiders but… baby, what if you get hurt? You’re the doctor here, what if something happens to you or the baby? What if there isn’t someone who knows how to save you? What if I do somethin’ to you on accident, what if I’m too rough because I’m caught up in touching you the way I want? I can’t risk that, baby, I can’t.”
“Oh Joel,” you breathed, pressing yourself closer. “You’re not going to hurt us. I promise, you’ve never been too rough with me. If something doesn’t feel right I’ll tell you but it’s OK. We’re safe. You’re safe.” You guided his hand to your breast, his large palm curving around the soft flesh. “And I want you to touch me, really touch me. Please.”
He was cautious at first, hesitant. Now that you knew he was afraid, it was easier to see it on his face and feel it in his touch. But you guided him through it, holding his hand, reassuring him, until he was lost in you and things felt right for the first time in months.
You learned how to head things off after that. When he would appear in the clinic, you would give him a kiss and tell him how you were feeling. If the baby was moving, you’d guide his hand to your stomach to let him feel them alive inside you. When you needed something at home and could see that he was restless and distracted by worry, you’d ask him for help. You started meeting him at the gates after patrol so he could see you and touch you as soon as he was back, feeling how he relaxed when his hands were on you.
When you went into labor, though, you were worried. You knew he was afraid but then, so were you. You were afraid not just of what could happen, of how it would hurt under the best of circumstances, but of how to help Joel through it, too.
But he sensed what you were doing right away, so in tune with you now. He climbed into the bed behind you, pulling you back so your head was resting on his chest.
“Don’t you dare worry about me,” he said, kissing the crown of your head. “I’ve got you, baby. Got both of you.”
You smiled a little as the contraction eased and he held you a little tighter.
“I know you do,” you relaxed into the firm, strong body of your husband. “I know.”
#fanfic#joel miller x female reader#kit answers#send asks#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x oc#lavender#lavenderversary
117 notes
·
View notes
Note
ok here's my silly request: Bill and the reader are childhood best friends. Tom and the reader never really got along, they're kinda like enemies though there's still something between them (of course). One day they decide to go on a camping trip and Bill invites the reader. To y/n's surprise Bill brings his new girlfriend and shares a tent with her. So the reader has no other choice than to sleep in Tom's tent. The reader and Tom argue a lot, but in reality Tom isn't too annoyed by the reader's presence and he's had a crush on her for the longest time. Somehow they figure out they like each other and yeah, the rest is up to you ;)
OFC POOKS
Maybe you aren't so bad after all
PAIRINGS: Tom 2007 x Female reader
CONTENT: ANGST + FLUFF
SYPNOSIS: Bill invites Y/N on a camping trip, little did she know he had a new girlfriend he was bringing over and she had no choice but to sleep in the same tent as Tom.
A/N: guitar tom
WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary), kissing, fingering, arguing and yelling
My phone started to ring, Bills face was plastered on my screen and I smiled, instantly picking up.
"Hey Bill! What's up!"
"Me and Tom are going camping, do you want to come?"
"Oh of course! When are you going?"
"Next week, we'll pick you up"
"Sounds good, bye!" I smiled and hung up, getting on with what I was doing.
The days went by and the day of the camping trip was due, I heard Bills car beep outside, altering that he was here. I got all my bags and ran outside, shoving them in the backseat.
"This is Katie, my girlriend, she's coming with us" Bill smiled warmly, I smiled and reached out, hugging her "Hey! I'm y/n" she smiled and introduced herself. Tom just rolled his eyes and stayed on his phone, ignoring all of us.
I ignored Toms shitty mood and closed the car door, the car started and we started our journey to the camp site. It took us 2 hours to finally arrive, we put all our stuff down, setting up the tents and some chairs to all chill.
I realized that since Bill's new girlfriend was coming, I couldn't share a tent with Bill, meaning the only option I had left was Tom and I couldn't bare the though of spending a whole night with him.
Every year we went on the same camping trip, Bill let me sleep in his tent and we would sometimes cuddle because it got so cold. But now, what was I supposed to do if it got cold? I didn't want Toms dirty hands on me, who knows where they've been?
I sighed and accepted defeat, moving all my stuff into the spacious tent. I set up my sleeping bag, then I felt Tom bump into me, sending me flying to the floor. He started to burst out laughing, not even bothering to help me off the floor.
I grunted and got up, shoving him, "what the fuck Tom! Don't make it any worse then it has to be, I don't want to fucking sleep in here with you" he scoffed, "yeah, I feel the same sweetheart don't get your panties in a twist" I just rolled my eyes and stormed out.
After a long day of doing fun activities, hunting for food and fishing we got back to our spot, Tom started a fire for us to cook the food and I started to prepare the fish, putting them on a small metal rack, the meat slowly cooking.
"You're doing it wrong Y/N, let me help" Tom grabbed my arm, commenting on the way I was searing the fish, I grunted and tried to push him away, "fuck off I know what I'm doing, you've never cooked a day in your life what do you know?" he continued to struggle with me, tugging on my arm.
With one last firm tug he pushed the metal rack, flipping the fish onto the ash and ruining the food completely. "What the fuck? Look at what you've done! Now we have no food to eat!" I screamed at him, smacking his hand off me and standing up, storming off.
He quickly followed, "how is it my fault? You're so stubborn you can't let me do one thing, you're so controlling!" he yelled back, I gasped and turned around, "controlling? fucking controlling? maybe you're just an idiot and you can't accept it" my chest heaved up and down, eyes narrowing at him.
He rolled his eyes, "whatever, fuck you" he pushed past me, grabbing some of the meat we hunted and cooking it, wasting our collection for tomorrows dinner.
After we ate and spent some time together we headed to bed, I dreaded this moment all day, being stuck in a tent with the guy I hated the most.
I headed into the tent, seeing that Tom was already fast asleep. "Thank god.." I whispered to myself, slipping into my sleeping bag and slowly falling asleep.
Later in the night I woke up, the cold air seeping into the tent and making me shiver. "Fuck.." I muttered, trying to warm myself up but to no avail. "Come here.." I heard a voice call out, raspy and groggy. I realized it was Toms and furrowed my eyebrows, "what?" "don't act stupid, you're so fucking loud just come here, I'm cold too" holding a hand out.
As much as I disliked Tom, I will admit I need the warmth. "Im not moving, you can come here" I mumbled, "so stubborn..fine" he groaned, getting out of his sleeping back and slipping into mine and wrapping his arms around me.
I felt a sense of safety, like I was protected. I do admit, we are supposed to be enemies but..I do like him and have for quite a while.
My eyes squinted as Tom turned the lamp on, my eyes taking time to adjust to the light "Y/N.." he suddenly spoke up, catching my attention, I turned around and looked up at him, "yeah?" I smiled softly "you know I don't actually hate you right?" he sighed "I really like you, I've just been rejecting the feelings for a while but I can't" before he could say anything else I just smashed my lips into his, his hand snaked around the back of my head and held it softly, deepening the kiss.
"I've liked you for years Tom.." I muttered against his lips, "I need you so bad.." he grunted, shifting his position so that he was on top of me, eyes darkening with lust.
He pressed his erection against my leg, "please?" I nodded and felt him pull my pyjama pants off, slipping his hands into my panties and teasing my entrance with his fingers.
He slowly dipped 2 digits into my wetness, thrusting in and out and picking up his pace, "gotta make this pussy ready for me, mk?" he mumbled, I nodded in response and bit my lip, his fingers curling against my g spot perfectly.
"Oh fuck!" I whined, he quickly covered my mouth, "shhh!" I smirked and continued to moan in his hand, his fingers stretching me out and warming up my hole for what was about to come.
He retracted his fingers, I whined at the loss of contact, "baby..." I pouted, he looked back at me and grinned "be patient liebe" he slid his plaid pyjama pants down, pooling down at his knees.
His cock was straining against his boxers, BEGGING to be freed. It looked painful. I reached a hand out and palmed his cock, earning a low groan from him, his head rolling back, "fuck baby.."
He came back to his senses and held my hips, sliding my panties down and taking his cock out, I gasped at the length and gurth, it was a solid 7 inches, gurthy and veiny.
"Holy shit.." my breathing hitched, his hands coming down to my hips as he placed his tip at my entrance, "tell me if you want to stop ok?" kissing my neck sweetly, I nodded and held onto his toned arms.
He slowly pushed in, stretching me out more then he did with his fingers, a pain submerging throughout my body. "Ah!" I cried out, nails digging into his biceps. "I know baby, just a bit more" he reassured, pushing what was left of his cock in me.
After bottoming himself out he let me rest, kissing my neck and rubbing my clit in hopes to soothe me from the pain of his cock. Eventually he pulled out before slamming back in, creating a quick pace, his length thrusting in and out of me perfectly.
I felt his tip directly hit my g spot, ramming into it at such speed the pleasure came in shock waves. I grabbed his hand and put it over my mouth, muffling the very loud moans about to escape my mouth.
He grinned down at me, pounding his cock into me, every inch that came and went making me want to scream out in pleasure.
"Fuckk!" I mumbled against his hand, rolling my eyes back. "So good.." he grunted, one hand holding my hip tightly, making sure I didn't fling all over the place from his brutal thrusts.
He removed his hand from my mouth and I shoved my face in the crook of his neck, kissing and sucking, leaving dark purple marks all over his neck.
I didn't realize in the moment but the consequences in the morning would be severe. How could we even explain this to Bill? How would he wrap his head around us doing this?
"So so beautiful" he muttered, triggering a smile to form on my face, blush filling my cheeks. He chuckled at my flustered state, "you're adorable, always blushing over the smallest things" I retracted my head from his neck and attatched my lips to his, kissing him passionately as his memeber drilled into my sopping cunt.
I felt tension build in my tummy, a burning sensation forming in my core. I knew I was close to my release, pussy clenching around his cock as it built up higher, "oh fuck!" I whined, my legs shaking as I came all over his cock, moaning against his lips.
He grunted, the feeling of my cunt clamping down on his cock sent him into oblivion. He rolled his eyes back and moaned a little too loudy, shooting his seed deep into me.
"Oh my god..." he panted, collapsing onto my chest, we both were trying to catch our breathes. After a while he finally spoke up, "hey, I mean at least we're warm now, isn't that what we wanted?" I giggled and slapped his arm playfully, "whattt? You know I'm right" he winked and sat up, helping me put my clothes back on and his too, spooning me again.
His arms were so strong and rough yet so gentle and kind. "I'm glad we got this off our chests, I couldn't wait any longer to tell you and it just exploded like this" he sighed "i'm sorry if it looks like I was just using you..I can assure you I'm not, I do really like you" he whispered softly in my ear, his breath tickling my neck softly.
I wanted to believe he was lying, that this was all just for a quick fuck but the sincerity in his voice said otherwise, the way his arms were wrapped around me and how he was so loving when we fucked, the kisses he planted on my lips randomly.
"I know Tom..don't stress yourself out, I'm just a bit surprised you still like me after our little altercation today" I sighed "I'm sorry I get so controlling, I can't help it" I cowered, my cheeks heating up.
He spun me around and grabbed my chin for me to look at him, "don't be so harsh on yourself, you were right I am an idiot" he chuckled "I only did that so I could rile you up, I love seeing you pissed off" he winked, pecking my lips.
I giggled "fuck you Tom, cmon, let's go to sleep it's really late" I yawned softly and rested my head against his chest, slowly melting into his embrace. "Goodnight schatz.." he switched the lamp off, rubbing my back softly.
tags: @itsmealaiah @ballhair @estxkios @tomkaulitzloverr @itsangelll @ge-billsgf @bkaulitzlover @charliesgoodboy
#tom kaulitz#bill kaulitz#tokiohotel#gustav schäfer#georg listing#smut#tom kaulitz x reader#tom kaulitz x y/n#tom kaulitz x you#tom kaulitz smut#tom kaulitz fanfic#tom kaulitz tokio hotel#i love tommy#i love tom#so cute#love confessions#arguing#tom kaulitz angst#light angst#angst#angst with a happy ending#fluff at the end#tokio hotel fluff#sweet fluff#fluff#tokio hotel smut#rough smut#smutty smut smut#wet and gushy#soaking wet
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
Coachella Vlive
Pairing- Seonghwa x Named Reader
Word count- 4.6k
Includes- Angst, make up sex, fingering, oral, pussy eating, cum eating, missionary, cock riding, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, fluff
Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa
@yeosxxx @seokwoosmole @jjongsbebe @wisejudgedragonhairdo @meowmeowminnie @woo-stars @borntowalkaway @usagionthered @san-realblkwife @seonghwasstar @jejeyeppeo @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @prayerofthehaim @realisticnotes @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @stephy-nicole13 @mknae-jongho @bykeynote
Gif Credit- seonghwacore
Masterlists- check out for more fics
📝Masterlists 📝ATEEZ Masterlist 📝Seonghwa Masterlist
Seonghwa POV
I hear a hurrumph from across the room
I turn away from the live with ATINYs towards my girlfriend
I almost burst out laughing at how she's sitting on the hotel bed with her arms crossed, pouting but glaring at me at the same time
I swear the facial expressions this girl can get her face to contort in are hilarious
Forcing back the laugh, I turn back to the live, continuing to talk to ATINYs, trying to find a segway into wrapping the live up
I've been on for over an hour
My phone rings and I look at the text
"Hurry up!"
"I'm trying jagi", I send back
"You said a quick live! I told you to do it later but you never listen to me"
"Baby...almost done"
"You said that fifteen minutes ago"
I don't answer back because there's nothing to say
She's right
I said I told her I was getting off fifteen minutes ago and I didn't
It's just hard to get off a live when ATINYs are constantly commenting and asking me questions
But she's right, I should of done the live later, when she's asleep
Not when she's waiting for me
It's my fault
As soon as I got off the stage of the Coachella concert, I was all over her
Kissing her, touching her, feeling her up, putting my hand down her pants, getting her riled up
Promising her I was gonna dick her down so good as soon as we got back to the hotel
Then cuddle her all night
Then dragged her away from the guys and Coachella to come to the hotel
But when we got here, she went to the bathroom and I decided to do a quick live in the mean time
Which didn't turn out to be quick
I get why she's frustrated and annoyed
I promised her a whole night of just me and her and didn't deliver
I hear a door close and I look
She went back to the bathroom, the sound of the shower running
Fuck, she's pissed
I turn back to the live, figuring I could get off it while she's showering
--------------------------------
"Thanks for joining me", I smile, waving at the computer
I close the live and prepare to be yelled at
I didn't manage to get off the live while she was in the shower
I didn't get off for another forty five minutes
I couldn't segway into leaving until right now
I know she's beyond mad
I would be if she left me hanging like I did to her
Steeling myself, I turn to the bed
She's laying on her side of the bed, under the covers, on her phone, not looking at me
Getting up, I walk to her bed, sitting on it next to her
"Jagi", I call
"Leave me alone", she snaps, still not looking at me
"Jo, I'm sorry", I apologize
"Whatever Seonghwa"
Yeah she's really mad
She never uses my full name unless she's angry
"Jo-"
"No"
"But-", I try again
"No", she growls, "I don't want to talk to you. Go take a shower or go out with Hongjoong or whatever. Just leave me alone"
I don't want to leave her alone but I know her
I can't keep pushing her or she'll blow up
She needs time to calm down
We don't fight much but when we do I know I need to give her space before we fix whatever the problem is
I'll take a shower and hopefully she'll be calm when I get out
Leaning over, I kiss her hair but she has no reaction
Doesn't even turn to look at me
Holding in my sigh, I get up and go to the bathroom
--------------------------------
I comb my hair after my shower, taking time to get my pjs on
I took time in the shower too, to let her cool off
Hopefully she'll be ok now
Opening the bathroom door, I go into the dark room
I don't remember the lights being off
Feeling my way to the bed, I turn on one of the side lamps, then look at her
She's asleep
Curled up under the blanket, all the way on her side, so close to the edge, leaving a huge space between us in the king size bed
I swallow hard, realizing that she's all the way over there because she doesn't want to be next to me
Yeah I fucked up
There's nothing I can do now
I'm definitely not waking her up
She's cranky enough as it is when she wakes up
Getting into the bed, I close the light
I reach out to her but I can't even feel her from where I'm laying
The gap is that big
I move over to where she is, laying next to her, wrapping my arm around her waist, cuddling next to her
I've slept with her in my arms everyday for four years, I can't sleep without her
Kissing the back of her neck, I close my eyes, hoping that everything will be better tomorrow
--------------------------------
Movement next to me wakes me up, my eyes slowly opening
"Move over", she snaps, pushing me
"Jagi", I murmurs sleepily
"I have no room. Move back"
What she's saying registers and I move over in the bed, her moving with me
"Jagi", I repeat, not really knowing what I'm gonna say
"Go to sleep", she says, her eyes closing again
I can't stay awake so I close my eyes, my arm still around her as I fall back asleep
--------------------------------
Waking up, I move my arm to pull her closer but I don't feel her anywhere
Snapping my eyes open, I stare at an empty bed
Shit
Sitting up, I rub my eyes then scan the room, my heart going back to normal when I see her on the couch watching TV
"Jagi", I murmur, standing up, making my way to her
"Hongjoong called. He asked if you wanted to go watch some performances with him and the guys. I told him you were sleeping and you'd call him when you woke up"
"Uh yeah, ok", I answer, my fuzzy brain taking a few seconds to catch up
"Go call him"
Right
Yeah ok
I go back to the bed, grab my phone off the nightstand, going into the bathroom to brush my teeth
"You're finally up", Hongjoong says when he answers
"Yeah", I answer, not knowing what time it is
"Me and the guys are already at the festival. Come and meet us"
"Uh yeah sure. In a little", I say
I need to talk to her first, fix my fuck up
"Alright. Call me when you're here"
"Yeah"
We hang up and I finish brushing my teeth, then go back to the room
"Jagi", I start
"I'm not in the mood to go. I already told Hongjoong. You can go"
"I don't want to go without you", I tell her, sitting next to her
"Why not? You can't be seen with me anyway. The media is all over the place. I can't even go with you to the VIP section. There's no point. Just go with the guys"
She hasn't looked at me once the entire time she spoke
And she's not wrong
I can't be seen with her, even here
If one picture is taken and exposed, shit will hit the fan
But I don't want to go without her
I had to last week
I left her in the hotel
She assured me it was ok, that she didn't like the kind of music at the festival anyway
I went but missed her
I saw all the couples there, holding hands, arms around each other while they listened to the music
I was jealous and I want to do that with her
It sucks that I can't
"I'm not gonna go jagi. I'm gonna stay with you"
She finally looks at me, her eyebrow raised, "Don't be dumb Seonghwa. You don't know if you're ever going to go to Coachella again. You're here now, don't miss out on what you want to do because of me. Don't stay here because you feel guilty about last night. Just go"
I shake my head
That's not what I'm doing
I genuinely don't want to go without her
I want to stay with her, where ever that is
"No jagi"
"Seonghwa-"
"I want to stay with you jagi"
She sighs, "If I tell you I'm not mad at you anymore you'll go?"
I shake my head, "No"
"What the fuck, why not?"
"Because I want you Joanne. I want to be with you ok", I answer, "I don't want to see other couples holding hands and being happy together when I can't do that with you. I don't want to be jealous. I don't want to be away from you when I don't have to be. I went last week, I saw artists I wanted to see last week. I don't care about seeing anyone perform. I want you"
She raises her eyebrow, "Now you want me?"
"I always want you jagi", I tell her, hoping I can finally talk to her about last night, "I'm sorry about last night baby. I fucked up. I shouldn't have done the live. I know I promised I'd be with you all night, I got you all riled up and I didn't deliver on my promise"
She looks away, saying, "If you didn't want to have sex, you should of just said so instead of going on a live and telling me it'll only be for a little while. You left me hanging for two hours Seonghwa"
"I know, I'm sorry jagi", I apologize, "But I did want to have sex baby, of course I did. I just....I was stupid. When you went to the bathroom, I thought I could just pop on the live and do a fifteen minute one. I didn't expect it to turn into two hours"
"You shouldn't have went on it at all, even for a fifteen minute one. I didn't expect to go to the bathroom and come out to find you ditching me for ATINYs", she says, "Not when you promised you'd be with me all night. You would be so mad if I promised that and then did something else without you"
I know I would be
She's one of our makeup artists so I do see her a lot more than if she didn't work with me and I sleep next to her every night but I'm still really busy
Spending a whole day together is rare unless it's a day off
Spending a whole night together is rare too
Usually there's just enough time to be together for a little then I have to sleep to get up early the next day
She never complains and is always happy for any time we get to spend together
I completely blew it last night
"I'm so sorry Jo. I promise I won't do anything like that again ok? Not when I promise I'll spend time with you"
She just shrugs, saying a soft "yeah"
"Do...do you forgive me?", I ask, worried she doesn't and is still mad
"Of course I forgive you Hwa. I love you", she says softly, "You just...you're just dumb and clueless sometimes and I get pissed off"
"I know baby", I answer, taking her hand, lacing our fingers, "I'll try not to be dumb so much"
I know I can be dumb and clueless sometimes, especially with obvious things
Last night was an obvious "don't do it", but I did it anyway
Dumb
"I don't think you can help it", she says, laughing softly, making me smile
"Well I'll still try"
"Ok", she nods
"Ok", I answer, relief filling my body
"You should still go with the guys though"
I shake my head, "No. Besides, I have to make up for being dumb"
She glances at me, her eyebrow raise
"You don't have to make up for anything"
"Oh but I do", I say, moving closer to her, kissing her cheek, "I really do"
I kiss lower, on her neck, right into the spot I know she loves
Her body reacts, trembling, a soft moan leaving her mouth, making me smile against her skin
"I promise my girl orgasms", I murmur, spreading kisses along her collarbone, "And I'm going to deliver on those promises"
With that, I lift my head and pull her to me, kissing her hard
Her mouth opens for me, my tongue already playing with hers as her arms wrap around my neck
I get her in my lap, then stand up and carry her to the bed
Sitting her on it, I break the kiss, pulling her shirt up and off her
"Lay back for me baby", I tell her, "Lemme see your pretty body jagi"
She does, my eyes roaming her body, hands touching everywhere
Fuck, my girlfriend is so fucking hot
Leaning down, I kiss her soft lips, then trail more down her pretty neck
"Hwannie", she whimpers
As I kiss her, I pull her pj shorts and panties down, getting them off, then opening her legs, getting between them
Just as I lick her nipple, I slide two of my fingers inside her soaked pussy, her body arching for me as her cunt sucks my fingers inside her
"Seonghwa", she cries, her fingers sliding in my hair, holding on tightly
"Mmm jagi, so wet for me already", I murmur, running my tongue over her hard nipple again and again
Fuck it feels so good under my tongue, sending shocks of pleasure down to my hard cock
Latching onto her nipple, I suck on it as I move my fingers back then thrust them inside her again
"Yes, Hwa"
I move my fingers fast, adding another one in and making sure I rub against her spot with each stroke
I know exactly where it is, I memorized where it is the first time I ever had sex with her and I can find it right away with both my fingers and my cock
Her body shivers, her cries of pleasure so loud in the room
Moving my thumb to her clit, I rub it in a circle, her pussy squirting a little around my hand, her moans so pretty
Her pussy throbs hard around my fingers and I can't wait to feel that around my dick
I keep going, biting on her nipple as I finger fuck her and she screams my name, coming and squirting around my hand
"Seonghwa! Oh god Seonghwa!"
I smile around my nipple, my eyes on her, keeping my hand moving to get her through it
I love watching her cum, she's so fucking stunning
I swear I can spend all day giving her pleasure, making her cum
All fucking day
When she finishes, I slide down her body, pulling my fingers out, my tongue buried right into her cunt
"Ffff....", she says, shivering
"Mmmm baby", I groan, licking up her pussy, my face getting drenched, just the way I like it
Her sweet taste hits my taste buds and I moan into her, holding her legs wide open
"You taste so good jagi", I murmur, running my tongue up and down between her pussy lips, sliding just the tip of my tongue in her hole, "Fuck, I love eating this pussy. Love it"
I eat her out everyday because I'm so addicted to her- to the way she tastes, the way she feels against my tongue and my face, the way she soaks me, the way she pulls my hair, her scent, everything
I swirl my tongue around her little hole, dipping my entire tongue inside, her cunt clenching hard as round it
"Mmmm", I moan, loving the way her pussy pulses
So fucking hot
Pulling my tongue out, I drag it up, rolling over her clit, making her shout, her body shaking hard
Smirking, I play with her clit, lavishing it with licks, using every part of my tongue
"Seonghwa", she moans, her hand snaking in my hair, tugging it
"Mmm baby", I groan, flicking her clit back and forth, loving how much it's throbbing
Gripping her thighs hard, I keep her wide open for me, going at her pussy hard, her slick cream all over my face, dripping down my neck
Moving my mouth around her swollen clit, I suck desperately on it, never wanting to let go
The pulses against my lips are turning me on more, making my cock ache to be inside her
But I can wait until she cums in my mouth a few times
I slurp on her clit, her moans getting louder, her skin trembling under my hands
Her body arches as she cums, her hands gripping my hair hard as she holds my face against her cunt as I suck her through it
"Seonghwa!"
When she finishes, she loosens her grip on my hair allowing me to move back slightly so I can slide my tongue down her pussy
I groan into her as I lick up all her cum, swallowing greedily, my tongue slipping inside her for more
"Hwannie", she cries as her cunt spasms around my tongue, more of her yummy pussy juice spilling in my mouth, which I swallow happily
I pull my tongue out, then thrust back in, tongue fucking her little hole
Her body shakes for me, her hips grinding her cunt against my mouth, fucking my face so perfectly
"Yes baby", I groan between tongue thrusts, "Don't stop baby"
Pushing my face into her cunt as much as I can, I revel in the whole experience of eating her pussy
I literally can't get enough
Her cunt pulses faster with each thrust, excitement rising in me
I move my hand to her clit, rubbing it as I continue to move my tongue in and out of her little hole
She screams my name and a few thrusts later her pussy sucks my tongue inside as she cums all over it
My mind blanks as the most delicious taste in the world coats my tongue, her cunt fluttering around it
Keeping my tongue inside her, I swallow over and over quickly, her pussy refilling my mouth with cream before I finish swallowing
I'm in fucking heaven
I clean her pussy up when she finishes, her body sinking back into the bed, her breathing elevated
I stand up, pulling my shirt off then getting out of my pants and boxers
Getting on the bed, I move between her legs, leaning down, kissing her perfect lips
Her arms wrap around my back and neck, holding onto me tightly, pulling me on top of her, her soft skin against mine
I settle on top of her, moving my arms around her back, holding her too
Her arm around my back slides down between us, her hand moving my dick to her entrance as she kisses me
I push in slowly, swallowing her moans, her hand going back to gripping my back
Fuck, I love her hands all over me
I live for her touches, her kisses, her love
As I slip my cock inside her, her pussy stretches around me, molding around my length while sucking me in at the same time
We both moan at how utterly good it feels, pleasure creeping into me
She's so fucking tight
No matter how many times I fuck her open, her warm pussy is always tight, always clenching
And wet
So fucking wet, spreading her cream over every inch of my cock
Sex with her is heaven every single time
When I bottom out, I grind into her spot, rubbing it with my head, her cunt clenching down around me so tightly
"Seonghwa", she moans, her body pressing into mine, clinging onto me, her legs wrapped around my waist
"Mmm baby", I murmur, slowly pulling my hips back, then slowly thrusting back into her, just feeling her open again for me, "Feels so fucking good"
She nods, answering between kisses, "So good"
I keep moving, in and out, going a bit faster, a bit harder each stroke
Her moans are so fucking beautiful, her face in pleasure is stunning to watch
"More Hwa", she begs, clinging onto me
Moving my arms, I pull her legs up slowly so I don't hurt her, getting them over my shoulders
I lean back over her, my hands on either side of her head, the position change letting me go deeper in her pussy, smashing her spot
"Yes Hwannie", she moans, taking my cock so perfectly, my pelvis rubbing her clit with each move, "Yes Hwa"
Her pussy throbs hard around my cock, making her so tight it's hard to push through
But I do, reveling in the way her pussy showers me in cream
I'm in so much pleasure, just wanting more of her
I slam in her cunt over and over, the wet sound of her cunt swallowing my cock so fucking loud, so fucking erotic
"My pussy is so loud for me", I grunt, slamming into her spot, "Hear how noisy you are?"
She nods, "Yes"
"So wet baby. So fucking tight"
Her pussy chokes my cock, pulsing like crazy, her nails digging in my arms as I mercilessly fuck her into the bed
"Seonghwa... Seonghwa!", she cries, coming all over my dick at the next pound in
Utter bliss slams into me from her orgasm, our moans mixing together
I force my hips to keep pounding her, fucking her through her orgasm, watching her shake and cum under me
After she finishes, I ease her legs down, her lips right against mine in a deep passionate kiss
I kiss her back the same way, reveling in her kiss, her fingers tangled in my hair and pulling, sending shivers down my spine
"Hwannie", she murmurs
"Mmm?", I answer against her soft lips
"Wanna ride you"
I groan, "Fuck yes baby"
Holding her against me, I roll us, getting her on top of me while I lay on my back
She sits up, straddling me, giggling as she tosses her hair behind her
"Baby likes to be ridden huh?", she teases, sitting on my cock, taking me in slowly
"You have no fucking idea", I groan, watching her pussy open for my dick
"I do since you want to be ridden everyday"
I so do
Honestly it's my favorite position
I can see her clearly, can see her body move, can see her pussy take my dick
And I can fuck her if I want too as well
It's perfect
"And you give it to me every time", I murmur, mesmerized by her hole slipping down my cock, stretching wide
"Always give my Hwannie anything he wants", she moans, her hands leaning behind her on my legs, her head tilted back in pleasure as she slides further down my length
"Mmm such a good girl for me", I praise her
She bottoms me out, her hips rocking back and forth, my head rubbing her spot
"Your cock is so good Hwannie", she shivers, her pussy going crazy on my dick, sending bliss through my body, "So fucking good"
"Mmmm fuck yourself on it jagi", I beg her, dying to see and feel her bounce on my dick, "Use my cock to make your pussy cum"
"So hot, begging me baby", she smirks
I'll beg her, no problem
Anything for her
She slides up my cock, pussy cream coating my entire length, the sight so fucking pornographic
She makes it to my head, then drops down, her ass hitting my legs, pussy sucking my cock inside her, my head rubbing her spot
"Yes Hwa, fuck", she cries, starting to bounce on me
I watch her sexy body move, her hips hypnotically circling around when she takes me back inside her, her big tits bouncing
I hold her hips hard, letting the pleasure completely take over
She leans over me, her hands on my shoulders, fucking the life from me, her cunt sliding up and down so quickly
"Fuck, you're so pretty on my cock jagi", I praise her, switching between watching her cunt eat my cock and her gorgeous face
Her eyes move to me, one of her hands running though my hair, gripping hard
"You're so pretty under me Hwa, moaning so loudly while getting your cock fucked", she murmurs
Fuck, I love when she talks to me like this
Makes me so horny
"My pretty baby boy", she murmurs, letting my hair go, her hands sliding to my chest, her bounces getting even more wild
She's so tight, pulsing like crazy, cream pouring from her cunt, soaking my lap, my stomach
She's close
Sliding my hands up, I grope her soft boobs, playing with her nipples, her cunt clamping down hard
"Cum on me", I whine, "I need it. Fuck I need it so bad"
She snickers, staring into my eyes, "I'll only cum if you promise to fill my pussy right after"
I nod rapidly, "Yes, I promise. I will"
"Mm ok baby. I'll give you what you want"
She bounces down, crying my name, coming all over my dick
Unbelievable ecstacy tidal waves over me, watching her beautiful body shake hard, her hips moving rapidly, grinding on my cock
Stars blast in my vision as I cum, screaming her name, her pussy sucking on my cock, taking my cum inside her
"Yes, Joanne, oh fuck baby. Feels so fucking good", I gasp, my body trembling from the pleasure, "Fuck"
"Seonghwa", she moans, her hips slowing down, tremors rippling along her skin
"Jagi, my jagi", I murmur, her hips stilling
She pants for breath, her eyes moving to mine, a smile on her face
"I love you", she says softly
"I love you", I tell her, then pull her down to me, kissing her
Her arms move around my neck as we settle next to each other in the bed, tangling, cuddling and kissing
We pull away, her fingers running in my hair as she smiles at me
God, I love her so fucking much
She cuddles her head into me, her face against my neck, kissing my skin
I hold her tightly, not wanting to let go of her
I'm not going with Hongjoong and the guys today
No way I can leave her
I want to be right here, with her, in her arms
"Are you hungry?", I ask, pressing a kiss to her forehead
"Aren't you going to meet Hongjoong?"
"No jagi"
She moves her head back, looking at me, "Seriously? If you haven't noticed, we're good Hwa. I'm not mad about last night. You can go"
I shake my head, "I don't want to go baby. Every reason I told you about not going is true. I want to be here with you"
"Are you sure?", she asks, "It's not like we can leave the room"
"Who said I want to leave the room?", I smirk, "Or the bed for that matter"
"Oh, you don't?", she teases, grinning
"Nope", I answer, "I was thinking we spend all day in bed. With the exception of using the bathroom and answering the door for room service"
"I wonder what we're going to do for the whole day?", she asks, a mischievous look on her face
"That's easy", I chuckle, "We eat. Then we have sex"
She bursts out laughing, "All day?"
I nod, "All day. If you want?"
She nods, "I absolutely want"
"Good", I say, getting my phone to pull up the hotel food menu on the Internet, "Let's see what we can eat"
"Ok", she nods, kissing my cheek, making me smile, "I love you"
"I love you jagi", I tell her, kissing her nose
She giggles as she settles next to me, her head on my shoulder as we turn out attention to the menu on my phone
#park seonghwa fanfic#ateez seonghwa fanfic#seonghwa fanfic#ateez seonghwa smut#park seonghwa smut#seonghwa smut#ateez fanfic#ateez smut
98 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unhappy Reunions
Celestial!Yuu finds what was lost
Angst
Humans are cruel and so are gods.
I was once the silver god who embodied love, marriage, and fertility. I was supposed to be the mother of gods the bringer of a generation of godlings.
I believed in my role fully and understood that it was for the good of the world. So I created. I made gods from stardust and clouds. So many wonderful creations. Fully formed and whole on their creation they took to the heavens and created more life. And I was happy.
I was creator, not mother to them. I was respected and revered.
Another god as ancient and powerful as I set his eyes on me. If I became his bound in vow I would be promised more power than I imagined. That might have worked on a lesser goddess but I was too powerful for that to work. But gods have tricks.
Lured in by my reflection on the ocean he trapped me in a black silk blanket. The moon disappeared from the sky until I agreed to be his.
I made the most of it but he demanded a child of me. But I was a god of love, I couldn't make a child without it. I had no love for him. Especially when he had children with mortals and goddess alike. I was resentful. Born to be the goddess of motherhood but not allowed to be mother to none. Dispite it all I converted my title to God of heroes. I looked after his demigod children, the blameless.
There were jealous goddess who wanted my place and they turned their children's blade against me. But I still wept when those children died to serve the purposes of more selfish gods, when my husband didn't even shed a tear for his fallen children.
My anger and loneliness bore fruit. Perhaps in spite my womb fashioned new life. From it, my first and only true child was born from me. A child of smoke and ink with a face shrouded in hair. This thing I had birthed from my negative emotions was still beautiful but the nurse maid reached in horror at my child. I demanded that she say the child was dead and hid it away in my most isolated corner of my heavens.
But he found them. He scorned me for birthing such a hideous creature. He took them from me.
He said I would have to pay for my actions and if I had done as he said this would never have happened.
There are many stories of gods doing horrible things to children, even their own. There are just as many with mortals.
But I can not explain the fracturing of my soul the moment he tossed my child to the wild beasts of the land after cutting them to pieces.
I still have not recovered from that day.
My nameless child was blameless.
I abandoned the heavens and have never returned. I left him and abandoned my titles of marriage goddess and mother goddess. I had neither now. I abandoned my very nature. It was no different than carving up my very being but I had already felt that pain.
How pathetic is it for a God to wander the earth calling for a child that no longer lives? Searching endlessly for what can't be found.
I'm not proud of what I did after. I wanted a child to fill the void in my heart. Silver became that for me. I wanted to be a mother again at any cost. I fought Lilia for him. He was mine by right.
I didn't intend to fall in love with Lilia. Perhaps I had always loved him at least a little. A strange thing for mortals to grasp that a God can love someone they have never really met. But it's true all the same. Still, there was a time I contemplated making a demigod of my own.
But I started to heal with him. I recovered that parts of me could be salvaged. The pain can never disappear with a memory that was infinite. Still I moved on.
Still, life found another way to curse me.
My child had returned. I found them. No. They found me.
My beautiful child of smoke and shadows. Neither God or mortal. Not demigod or monster. They stood shrouded in darkness before me but they did not know me. They were drawn to my side but knew nothing of their birth.
Perhaps it was for the best. I had failed them already, I should not be remembered.
Child was quiet, just how I remembered them. They spoke like the rain in the night and walked like fog.
I hope they know I love them. I hope they would forgive me. I wished I had been by their side. The pain they must have suffered must have been unimaginable.
My poor baby.
#celestial!yuu#(???)!yuu#yuuniverse#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia x reader#twisted wonderland lilia#twst lilia
77 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heart of Gold - Part 2
Miranda Hilmarson x Mounted!Police!Fem!Reader
HELLO EVERYONE <3
I finally managed to finish Part 2 of my Miranda Hilmarson Fic.
I'm sorry it took so long but it's finally here. I hope you enjoy this little addition to the first part. I'm not yet sure if I should make a 3rd part but if you guys want one, I'll look into it <3
Huge thanks to @weemssapphic for proofreading this part <3
Disclaimer: English is not my first language!
Warnings: Talk of bullying, talk of death and dying, descriptions of blood, death and being shot (I'm sorry... this is an angsty one)
Authors Note: Hurt/Comfort with a shit ton of Angst. I hope you guys enjoy <3
Words: 2'400+
AO3 Link
Taglist
-------
“Why do you care so much about me?”
You look at her, unable to answer the question. Should you tell her? Should you take the risk and risk the friendship you’ve built? Miranda looked at you intensely, chest heaving from being dragged around. You tried to collect your thoughts but just as you were about to answer, Miranda dropped her head, looking down at her feet. A sigh of defeat left her lips.
“It’s a joke to you as well isn’t it?” she asked through clenched teeth, tears threatened to spill from her eyes any second. You looked at her in shock.
“No! No Mir that's not the case!!! That's not the case at all-”
“Save it!” Miranda looked up at you, eyes red, tears wetting her face as she furiously wiped the back of her hand over her cheeks.
“I should have known… you’re like everyone else… I- I should have never trusted you…” and with that, Miranda stormed out before you could say anything else.
The defeat on her face, the betrayal, the way she looked so full of hope only for it to be replaced by pain, a pain you felt right in this moment with her. How could you have fucked up this bad… you should have just told her… you should have just SHOWN her. You had to catch up to her. Without further hesitation your feet carried you through the stables towards the parking lot only to see her drive off in a hurry.
“Shit… SHIT'' Defeated, you return to the stables to gather your things and leave. You’d see her tomorrow! You’d get your chance to talk to her again… hopefully.
—
However, luck wasn’t on your side. Miranda had started avoiding you, leaving the room when you entered, walking the other direction when you walked towards her. And this had been going on for a few weeks now.
It hurt.
You knew better than to follow her but… it hurt. After a particularly busy day, you went to get some drinks with your colleagues, wishing you were with Miranda. A heavy sigh left your lips as you absentmindedly picked at the label of your beer. You felt sick…
“Hey guys… I’m gonna go home… I don’t feel too well…”
You stood, handing your beer to your friend, and gathered your things. Of course you were met with protest but you just ignored it, and soon enough they figured that it might be best to just let you leave. So that is what you did.
Exiting the pub you felt the cold breeze on your skin. The air was a bit chilly and it smelled like rain. Cool darkness enveloped you and you stood there for a minute, just feeling the breeze on your skin and the smell of rain. When you opened your eyes again, that’s when you saw her.
Miranda anxiously stepped on a cigarette she’d just finished. It looked as if she were considering coming into the pub or not. She hadn’t seen you yet. Should you approach her? Go back inside? Before a choice could be made, she looked up, making eye contact. You were expecting her to run away, to flee from your loving and pained gaze once again but…. She didn’t. She held your gaze, waiting.
“Miranda-“
“Can we walk?”
She interrupted. You looked at her, surprise painted all over your face as she just waited for you to reply. Quickly, you nodded, walking over to her and following.
“Miranda… I am so sorry. If I have done something that hurt you please just let me know I-“
“Don’t apologise… I should-“
The blonde took a deep breath, shoving her hands in her vest pockets and looking down at her feet, kicking some stones around as she walked with you. She had missed you… but she needed time to think.
“I should have let you answer that night… I am sorry…”
Suddenly, Miranda stopped, looking out over the beach and the dark ocean. You stood beside her, your eyes trained on her face. You had to tell her how you feel. You had to let her know that she is worthy of love and affection. That she is beautiful, wonderful, perfect. In your eyes, Miranda was perfect.
“I care because you’re worth it.”
Miranda was avoiding your gaze, but you saw her eyebrows furrow. This just spurred you on more.
“I care because you are worth the time and energy. I care because you are the sweetest and most adorable and kind person on this planet. I care because you lit up my world when I met you the very first time. You make my days better and I cannot fall asleep or wake up without thinking of you.”
Miranda looked down at you, her eyes, usually so blue and bright now seemed grey, and were welling up with tears. Carefully, you took her hand into yours, giving her a reassuring squeeze with your hands.
“I care because I fell in love with you…. Miranda… I love you”
You said it, admitted your feelings, and it sent a rush of anxiety down your spine, leaving its sticky tingling feeling behind. You were expecting her to leave again, to get upset at you… what you didn’t expect were her lips suddenly pressed against yours, a big hand with long, slim fingers, gently cupping your cheek and pulling you closer.
Miranda had hoped you would say that. It took her a while to realise… several weeks. She simply wasn’t used to it. No one had ever shown her the care and affection you had. And she found herself falling for you. Afraid you would hate her if she admitted it, she kept quiet.
But that night…. She had to know.
However, as soon as the question left her lips, she felt herself getting anxious. She was terrified. What if you said you pitied her and that’s why you ‘acted’ like you cared so much? So, before you could answer, she pulled away. She ran away. To protect herself, not noticing how much her actions had hurt you. Until she saw how your smile faded, how your eyes stopped shining, how you seemed to have lost your joy. And she hated herself for hurting you so much.
“I am sorry Y/N… I… love you too. I was just anxious and-“
Now it was your turn to interrupt her with a kiss. Your arms wrapping around her shoulders, holding her close. You didn’t need to hear more. It was no secret that Miranda was oftentimes anxious. Who could blame her… she’s been through a lot.
“I’ve heard everything I needed to hear Mir… you don’t have to apologise. You’re okay. I am not mad at you. I’m glad you told me…”
Your whispers and words of affirmation and understanding caused Miranda to completely dissolve. Her tears flowing freely as she held onto you, finding comfort in your embrace. She did not know how she deserved you, but she would be an idiot if she’d ever let go of you. You loved her… and she loved you.
—
And so it happened that the two of you became the cutest couple at the police station (at least according to you two. Who cares what the others think).
More often than not, you brought Miranda a coffee, some treats or even flowers. You started spending almost every waking moment together, only separating to go home and sleep.
Both of you wanted to take it slow. There was no hurry. You weren’t going anywhere and neither was Miranda. The love you experienced in each other's embrace and kisses was enough to keep you two glued together. No force could ever part you… not even a routine patrol that ended more dangerous for you than expected.
—
It was like every Wednesday afternoon.
You were patrolling the promenades before going back to the stables and calling it a day. Already excited to spend time with Miranda after work, you did not realise that the altercation you rode towards, would end up being almost fatal for you.
Of course it had to happen.
You knew you shouldn’t have split up with your colleague. But there was no harm in thinking that if he took the lower road, you could take the higher one and still be close enough to hear each other.
The second you realised that there was a gun pointed at you, you started calling for your colleague. Reaching for your own gun, you suddenly felt a piercing pain in your shoulder. A BANG was heard and then your ears were ringing. The pain in your shoulder increased, dragging its disgusting talons over your neck to the back of your head, digging deep into your skin. You started feeling faint, head pounding and everything started looking fuzzy and far away. At first you hadn’t even noticed that your horse was galloping towards the stables. Your hand just instinctively grabbed onto the horn of the saddle and your grip tightened.
Artemis was huffing, whining and neighing the closer she got to the stables. A place she knew was safe. She felt your shift in energy, understanding the severity of the situation more than you. The smart horse she was, she stopped in front of the station, making a ruckus to get the other officers’ attention.
Miranda looked out the window, expecting to see you waving at her but what she saw, sent her into a panic. She rushed out to you and Artemis, gently pulling you from your mare and asking you questions. What exactly she asked, you didn’t know… you didn’t hear. All you knew was that you were in Miranda’s arms and it soothed the pain you were experiencing.
Meanwhile Miranda tried to stay calm. She had called the ambulance, staying with you and holding you close, trying to stop the bleeding. Her hands, your shirt and her sleeves were covered in thick, dark red, warm blood. Your blood.
Miranda tried really hard to keep it together, to stay strong for you, but she couldn’t keep the sobs in. Tears coated her soft pale skin, huffs and sobs escaped her lips, frantic breathing accompanied by the fear that she could lose you. She couldn't lose you… Miranda wouldn’t survive without you, she knew that. She needed you. She loved you.
The next few hours were a blur for Miranda. You were unconscious, the medics doing everything they could to keep you alive as she accompanied you, holding your hand throughout the entire drive to the hospital. There, you were separated.
But Miranda didn’t let up.
She waited, and waited, and waited. Minutes turned to hours, hours filled with anxiety, fear and pain. She did not even wash up, her hands, shirt and trousers still soaked in your blood. Now cold, sticking to her skin, as if death itself latched onto her.
It wasn’t until 4 hours later that the nurse finally went to fetch Miranda. She did ask her to at least wash her arms before bringing her to your room. There you laid, unconscious, but breathing. You were breathing. Miranda immediately went to your side, gently brushing some hair from your face, caressing your cheek, and holding your warm, soft hand.
“I need you… please don’t leave me just yet…”
She whispered.
“I love you. Come back to me…”
She begged.
“I can’t lose you..”
She breathed.
Miranda hoped you would hear her. She would tell you about all the things she wanted to experience with you, places she wanted to show you and future plans she had dreamed about. For more than 48 hours, Miranda sat by your side. The nurses had to force her to at least eat and drink something if she wasn’t going to sleep or go home to get changed. She sat by your side and wouldn’t leave. It was as if Miranda was in a frozen state. Holding your hand and pressing kisses to your cheek and forehead. She was only ripped from her trance as the heart monitor flatlined. She shot up, calling out for help, screaming, begging, sobbing, but no one heard. She was alone… and you were gone…
—
“Miranda?”
Suddenly, Miranda felt a soft hand on her arm, another on her cheek, wiping away tears that escaped her eyelids once more. She opened her eyes, finding herself in her bedroom. Her breathing ragged, panic evident on her face, she started looking around. Where were you?
“Miranda… darling… It’s okay. It was just a bad dream…”
Her eyes shot to the direction of the voice, and she started sobbing. You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close and kissing her head. Miranda’s arms immediately wrapping around your middle, so as not to hurt your healing shoulder. She pulled you close and that's when she realised where she was. Miranda was at home, in her bed, with you holding her, consoling her.
“I am here Mir. I won’t go anywhere… I promised you I won’t.”
Your soft voice brought her peace. This wasn’t the first time she awoke in this manner. Once the nurses and doctors were happy with your recovery, they allowed you to go back home. Miranda insisted you live with her, so she could take care of you and protect you. Of course you said yes. But ever since then, Miranda was plagued by nightmares. One worse than the other, the outcome was the same every time. She couldn’t save you. She couldn’t protect you. You were gone, leaving her alone in her pain and loneliness.
But it was just a dream. Every night she would feel your arms around her, your soft voice rousing her from the hell she fell into. Every night, you would reassure her that you were still there, that you survived, and that it was thanks to her quick thinking. Every night, you would dry her tears and have her fall asleep with her head on your chest, hearing your heartbeat. You were alive, and you were with her. It would take some time for the two of you to overcome the trauma, the horrors both of you faced each night. But you would overcome it. Together. Miranda could overcome it with your love, and you with hers. And her heart of Gold.
So, just like every night, you reminded her of that. A kiss pressed to her head as you noticed her relaxing in your arms, sleep ready to take her again. You whispered, so as not to wake her again:
“Miranda?”
“Hm?”
“I love you”
------
End Note: As always, reblogs, comments and likes are well appreciated <3
Taglist: @vivendraws @erinyaya @phexyce @aemilia19 @weemssapphic @gela123 @winterfireblond @Xxmecverxx @unicorniusfallapatorious @gwenistheloml @yourgaeyisshowing @readingtheentrails
#queer#gwendoline christie#sapphic#fanfic#wlw#reader insert#ao3#gwendoline christie fanfics#Miranda Hilmarson x Reader#Miranda Hilmarson fanfic#Miranda hilmarson#Fanfic#x reader#angst#hurt comfort#heart of gold part 2
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Can You Stay?
Olivia Benson x fem!reader
Warnings: sexual assault/rape (not graphic or anything, this takes place after the fact), trauma, hospitals, rape kit, established relationship, hurt/comfort, some explicit language, brief mentions of self-harm
Word Count: 1.4k
Summary: You're assaulted by a man the SVU just can't seem to convict. Olivia is used to victims, she's used to the aftermath of a rape. She's not used to walking through it with someone she loves as much as you.
“Let me see her!” Olivia yelled, shoving Fin so hard he slammed into a wall.
“Liv, you can’t be here as a cop,” Elliot argued, holding her back.
Olivia ran her hands through her hair, angry beyond reason and worried out of her mind. “I’m not, Elliot! I’m here because my girlfriend got raped. Now get the fuck out of my way so I can take care of her!”
Elliot lifted his hands in surrender. “Alright, just… you gotta let us do our job, okay?”
Olivia shoved past him and into your apartment, desperate to find you, to see you, to hold you and protect you. When she found you, shaking and huddled in a corner of your bedroom, it shattered her, but she didn’t feel sad, not yet. That would come soon, she knew. What she felt now was blinding, white hot anger at the man who’d done this to you.
You were so traumatized you didn’t even seem to notice her. Your eyes were glazed over, and you rocked back and forth, your head banging lightly into the wall each time. Munch sat on a corner of your bed, and Olivia looked at him, silently asking if you’d said anything yet. John shook his head. So it had just been the 9-1-1 call so far then.
Olivia lowered herself onto the floor next to you, careful not to touch you, to frighten you. Your hair was dripping wet, and the water had blotched your t-shirt. Her stomach sank. It was him again–Cleary–she just knew it.
“Sweetheart,” she started, her voice soft, looking into your blurry eyes. “It’s just me.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her, but your eyes filled with tears, and you started banging your head against the wall with more force.
Olivia placed her hand between your head and the wall to soften the blows. You wanted to hurt yourself. You wanted to hurt so much that you forgot what had come before. But you couldn’t bear to hurt Olivia. You put your head in your hands instead and when you finally spoke, your voice was small and hoarse.
“I can’t stop shaking.”
“It’s okay,” she soothed, still not touching you. She’d let you initiate touch if you wanted to. “That’s normal. You’re in shock, okay, baby? It’ll pass.”
“He came in my window, Liv,” you stuttered, unable to breathe deeply enough, your fingers tingling with the lack of oxygen. “He came in my window. I thought it was locked. It– it sh– should have– been l–locked.”
You scrunched your eyes shut and shrunk into Olivia, her arms wrapping firmly and protectively around you as you buried your face in her neck and gasped for breath. She rubbed your back, resting her chin on the top of your head.
“Shh,” she whispered. “Just breathe, baby, breathe.”
Elliot entered the room and sat on the bed with John. Olivia met his eyes, and she saw that he hated to do this. They were always aware of the ways in which an investigation might come off as insensitive to the victim. In fact, they did everything they could to be kind and empathetic and caring. But it had never been clearer than it was now that questions and probing, while necessary, would likely only make your horrific night worse.
You coughed, trying to desperately get enough air, the room swirling around you. You tried, you tried so hard to fight the darkening edges of your consciousness, but you couldn’t breathe. The last thing you remembered before blacking out was grabbing onto Olivia’s jacket.
“Shit,” Olivia muttered, as your body fell limp against her. “El–”
“On it,” he said, pulling out his radio and walking to the living room. “Yeah, we need a bus at Mott and Spring. Unconscious female. Rape victim, panic attack.”
Olivia laid you gently on the ground, brushing your hair out of your face and placing her fingers on your neck to ensure you had a pulse. It was hard to pass out from a panic attack–which showed just how scared you were. She sighed and watched you, holding back tears, as she brushed her thumbs back and forth across your wrist. She wanted to feel your heartbeat. Just to be safe.
“You okay?” John asked her.
Olivia shook her head, biting her lip. “No.” She smiled wryly, her eyes wet. “But I am dangerously close to committing a felony.”
“We’ll get him, Liv,” John assured her.
“We haven’t yet.”
“We will.”
When you jerked awake, gasping, your heart still racing, Olivia squeezed your hands and bent down close to you. “Hey,” she soothed. “Hey, you’re okay. It’s okay. I’m right here. Just keep breathing.”
She lifted your head onto her lap and you curled into yourself, your hand gripping tightly to hers. When the paramedics came, you shrank away from them and into Olivia, who might very well have assaulted an EMT to keep anyone from touching you and further traumatizing you.
“Can you walk?” she asked, and you nodded. “I got her,” she said forcefully to the paramedic who reached out for your arm.
Olivia walked you out of the room, out of your apartment, down the elevator, and into the back of the ambulance. She never once let you go, never once removed her arm from around your shoulder, glaring bullets at anyone who even came close to you.
Rape kits were always hard, no matter who the victim was, but it was excruciatingly hard now that it was you. Olivia almost couldn’t look at you as you talked the doctor at the ER through your assault. She wanted to cry, she wanted to shoot something, she wanted to hold you and never let you go. She would do anything, anything, to go back in time and have you stay at her place instead. Or, even better, to have been at yours so she could have shot the son of a bitch in self-defense. She didn’t know if she’d ever forgive herself for not being there.
You cried when they swabbed you, your body tensing in panic, hand squeezing Olivia’s so hard that little half moons formed on her skin under your nails. Olivia looked at the ceiling, willing herself not to cry. She felt like her heart was being fed through a shredder. It hurt more than anything, hurt so bad she was nearly bent over with it, to watch you cry. To watch your body flinch away from touch and comfort. To watch you poked and prodded and examined under the harsh fluorescent lights, the smell of alcohol sterilizer permeating everything, when you had already been through so much.
When they finally discharged you, Olivia pulled your softest, most oversized t-shirt and sweatpants out of her bag. She’d brought them from your apartment, knowing that they’d take your clothes for evidence. She dressed you gently, carefully, your eyes bloodshot, face streaked and puffy from tears.
She had Elliot drive you both to her apartment in a squad car, knowing you wouldn’t want to see anyone else, that you wouldn't be able to stomach a cab or the subway.
In the apartment, you sat on the edge of her bed, face blank, terrified to go to sleep. You couldn’t say anything, couldn’t speak. It was as if, after telling what had happened, your voice had switched off.
Olivia brushed your hair out of your face, bending down to look into your eyes.
“Do you think you can try to sleep, sweetheart?”
You nodded, exhaustion hitting you hard as the hours of adrenaline started to wear off. You crawled into bed, and Olivia pulled the covers over you. You struggled to keep your eyelids open, and Olivia gently kissed your forehead.
“Go to sleep, baby,” she whispered. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise.”
You grabbed her hand as she stood to leave, turning off the light.
“Can you stay?” you whimpered, tears welling up again, no matter how hard you tried to fight them.
Olivia wordlessly lifted the covers and pulled your body into hers, and you breathed easy for the first time in hours. Her arms were strong around you, her heartbeat sure and steady, hands soft as they ran through your hair. And you knew, you knew, that she would keep you safe.
#olivia benson#olivia benson x reader#olivia benson x fem!reader#olivia benson fanfic#olivia benson drabble#olivia benson fluff#svu#law and order svu#hurt/comfort
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Icebreaker | Alexander Dane/Reader
I. Never Meet Your Heroes
Summary: As a budding actress and a big fan of Alexander Dane, all your dreams are coming true when you land a role in Galaxy Quest opposite your favourite actor. To your disappointment, Alexander doesn't seem to like you very much - but unbeknownst to you, he's trying desperately to ignore his attraction to you.
Read now on Ao3 or below the cut:
You were almost vibrating with excitement on your first day on set.
You hadn’t taken part in the table read, as your casting was so last minute, so this was your first time meeting the cast and your first time playing the scene would be when the cameras were rolling. You were nervous, but you didn’t mind - you’d spent plenty of time as a theatre understudy, so you were used to playing a scene against someone you hadn’t rehearsed with. What you weren’t used to, however, was playing against such famous names.
If that weren’t enough, your main scene partner was to be none other than Alexander Dane, who just so happened to be your favourite actor in the world.
You wouldn’t quite say you were obsessed with him, but you had seen all his films, and you’d even managed to see him perform Shakespeare in London once, though you’d missed out on seeing him at the stage door. You also had a poster from his performance as Richard III on your wall, and hidden away in notebooks you’d never shared with anyone were fanfictions you’d written about his Galaxy Quest character, mostly involving romances between Dr Lazarus and characters you’d made up that totally weren’t stand-ins for yourself.
And now… you were actually going to play a love interest to Lazarus!
All your dreams were coming true. Your first TV role, in Galaxy Quest, with Alexander Dane, playing Lazarus’ love interest!
You absolutely, resolutely, could not fuck this up.
Your character’s name was Bethany, a fellow member of the Mak’Tar race, who, like Lazarus, believed herself to be the last of the race until she and Lazarus meet by chance and the two are faced with the question of whether they should procreate to repopulate their species.
On your arrival, you met with the production assistant, who led you to hair and make-up to be fitted with a cap similar to the one Alexander wore to make yourself look like an alien.
You were almost done, your hair now completely hidden by the cap and the last of your make-up being applied, when the door was thrown open and none other than Alexander Dane stepped through and sat himself down in the chair next to yours, completely ignoring you, which was fortunate because it gave you an opportunity to close your mouth when you gaped at him.
“Let’s get this blasted thing on quickly, Lena, I want to get today over with,” Alexander grumbled.
Lena, the make-up artist, rolled her eyes and continued working on you with hardly a flinch at Alexander’s abrasive attitude.
“I’m nearly done here, Alexander, then I’ll be with you.”
Alexander looked over and seemed to finally notice you. He frowned, then saw the matching cap on your head, and rolled his eyes.
“They’re going ahead with this bloody plotline, then,” he grumbled, then immediately grabbed a magazine from the dresser and stuck his nose in it.
You hadn’t said a word, and yet somehow you felt like you’d managed to fuck up your meeting with him.
“Don’t mind him, [Y/n],” said Lena, apparently completely unaffected by Alexander’s grumpiness. “He’s always like this. I must be his least favourite person on set because I’m the one who puts his cap on.”
“Third least,” Alexander replied from behind his magazine. “After Jason and Frank.”
“Jason Nesmith, he plays Taggart,” Lena explained to you. “And —”
“Frank Ross, the creator, I assume,” you finished.
Lena smiled. “You’ve done your homework!”
“I watch the show, I know who created it.”
Alexander groaned and lowered his magazine to finally look at you, albeit via the mirror. “Great, they hired another fan. When did this show stop hiring actors?”
“I can be both!” you said defensively. “Besides, what’s wrong with hiring fans? There’s no point in creating art if you don’t love it.”
“Pfft. I’d hardly call this show art. It’s nothing but meaningless drivel, and this episode’s no different, so don’t flatter yourself into thinking you’re creating something great just because you’re on TV.”
“All done!” Lena announced, ignoring Alexander, and she stepped aside to let you examine yourself in the mirror. “What do you think?”
“Wow, that is weird,” you laughed, turning your head to the side to examine your new alien look. “You can’t even tell I’ve got hair underneath! I look pretty good, actually, maybe I’ll shave my head after this.”
Alexander scoffed. “Take the cap with you, make it a new fashion trend.”
“Right, Alexander, it’s your turn!” Lena announced, and the actor just sighed.
“Fine, let’s get it over with.”
Lena gave you directions to the costume department and you left feeling even more anxious than before about your scenes with Alexander Dane.
---
Although your background was in theatre, you knew from industry knowledge that in film and TV, scenes were never filmed in order. So it was a surprise to you that your first scene of the day was actually your first scene of the episode. Your character Bethany was locked in a futuristic alien zoo, gaped at daily by an alien species that marvelled at “the last Mak’Tar.” That was, until the crew of the Protector came by to rescue another alien from their zoo habitat, and Lazarus found Bethany in her cage.
You ran through the scene with the director a few times before Alexander’s arrival. Once he did arrive, he only talked quickly with the director before getting into position, and suddenly you were moments away from your first scene.
The director raised her megaphone. “ACTION!”
Lazarus approached the invisible barrier that surrounded the habitat, staring in disbelief at the figure curled up on the floor. The floor itself was wet sand with small pools of seawater, just like the environment of his home planet of Tev’Meck. Without the rest of the zoo in his periphery, he might even have believed he was back on Tev’Meck.
He glanced down at the information screen. It was all written in an alien language he couldn’t speak, but he recognised two words: Mak’Tar and Tev’Meck.
Lazarus walked around the enclosure slowly, trying not to wake the figure on the floor, until he was able to get a good look at them. Sure enough, they shared his physiology. Could it really be that another one of his kind was here, in this zoo?
A crash in the distance caused Lazarus to look up suddenly. Taggart, no doubt, causing chaos as he attempted to escape with the alien he’d come to recover.
He had to get out of there. And if there was a chance this sleeping figure really was another Mak’Tar, he had to get them out of there too.
Lazarus circled back around to the information panel and hacked the operational code he’d learnt earlier before coming to save their target. A few beeps later, the forcefield was down, and Lazarus stepped into the habitat, crouching down by the figure to wake them.
“Hello?” he whispered. “Can you hear me?”
He grabbed the figure’s shoulder, rolled them onto their back, and recoiled slightly in shock. It was a female Mak’Tar!
The woman opened her eyes slowly, blinking away the sleep, frowning in confusion at seeing a figure looming over her.
Lazarus composed himself and knelt down again.
“It’s alright, I’m here to help. My name is Lazarus, I’m a Mak’Tar too. What’s your name?”
“…Bethany,” replied the woman, pausing as if it took her a moment to remember.
“Well, Bethany, how would you like to escape?”
“I… I think I’d like that very much.”
Lazarus smiled and nodded. “Excellent. Take my hand.”
He stood, and Bethany took his outstretched hand. Wow, his hands are soft , you thought as Lazarus pulled Bethany to her feet. She took a step, but stumbled. Lazarus glanced down and saw that she was favouring her left foot, her right being bandaged. Without hesitation, Lazarus threw her arm around his shoulder and helped her stumble out into the corridor.
“Cut!”
For your first take, you thought it had gone pretty well. You hadn’t messed up once! Whether or not Alexander agreed, you weren’t sure, because he simply released your arm from his grip and immediately walked back to his original mark for the second take.
You ran through the scene three more times, filming from different angles each time, until the director concluded the scene finished.
What amazed you about Alexander was the way he switched between Lazarus and Alexander with ease. Action - he was a hero, a lone survivor who had to contain himself at the possibility of finding another survivor in favour of concentrating on a quick exit. He was smiling as he pulled Bethany to her feet, his eyes warm and kind, and just a little excited. Cut - he was an actor, a grumpy thespian stuck in a job he hated, just getting through the day until he could throw the cap back in Lena’s face and stomp off home. He let go of you as soon as he could, not looking at you or even acknowledging your existence outside of the scene.
Ever heard the saying never meet your heroes? Well, you were discovering now why that was true. Alexander Dane was your favourite actor, your idol, your celebrity crush and the reason you’d pursued acting in the first place. And, it turned out, he was a massive jackass.
You weren’t naïve; you hadn’t gone into this expecting your crush to fall in love with you and whisk you off on some romance. You hadn’t even expected to make friends with him. But you had hoped to at least have a good working relationship with him for the week you were there and to come away with some fun stories about the week you spent on the set of Galaxy Quest.
Apparently, that wasn’t to be. So you resolved yourself to give the best performance you could and hope the fans liked your character when the episode aired.
Your next scene took place on the viewing deck, Bethany having successfully escaped the alien zoo and finding herself on board the Protector. You stood in front of the glass that separated you from the green screen that would be replaced in post-production with the vast expanse of the cosmos, gazing thoughtfully through the window as the director took some establishing shots of you standing alone.
When she was happy with the solo shots, the director called action for Alexander to make his entrance.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Lazarus said as he stepped up beside Bethany, looking out at the cosmos and remembering what it was like for him when he first looked out into space from the safety of the ship.
“It’s terrifying,” Bethany replied quietly, and Lazarus frowned at her.
“Terrifying?”
“It’s so big… so easy to get lost.” She raised a hand and lightly placed her fingertip against the glass, covering an entire galaxy with just her fingertip. “How many species are out there?”
“Billions, I suppose. It’s impossible to count. Trillions of life forms… and none of them like us.”
Bethany looked up at him. Alexander’s profile was illuminated by the stage lights, emphasising the outline of his nose.
“How can you be sure? Maybe others survived. We did.”
Lazarus shook his head sadly. “I don’t think so. Even if there are… the chances of finding them are minuscule. It’s a miracle I ran into you.” He looked down at her and smiled, not a trace of Alexander’s regular irritation on his features. Lazarus was only kind, curious, and a little hesitant. “Perhaps it’s fortunate that I found you. So we can… keep the Mak’Tar species alive.”
“For now.” Bethany looked back out at the vast cosmos. “We’ll both die eventually, though. Then the Mak’Tar are done for.”
Lazarus hesitated. “Not necessarily. There would be more of us if we were to… make more.”
Bethany kept her gaze firmly fixed on the expansive view from the window. She blushed slightly - you had never quite grasped forcing the blood to rush to your cheeks, but you could at least act as if it had - then shook her head.
“No, I… I think it’s best not.”
Lazarus was stunned. He collected himself and said, “And let our species die?”
Bethany turned back to Lazarus, and as much as you understood her motivations, you selfishly wished the scene were to end with a passionate make out session.
“It’s survival of the strongest, Lazarus,” Bethany said. You very suddenly realised you’d missed a line, but your theatre instincts kicked in, and you continued. “Our people were squashed like bugs when someone stronger came along. One day, our conquerors will be destroyed by someone or something stronger than them. And so the cycle continues - until there’s nothing left. Why delay the inevitable?”
“All our history, our culture - gone —”
Bethany shook her head. “It’s not gone. It’s just a story now.”
The script called for Lazarus to be speechless, so you gave Alexander a few moments to let the emotions play out on his face, then Bethany glanced out the window again.
“I think I’ll ask to be dropped off on Atera. It always looked very pretty in the books.”
She glanced uncertainly at Lazarus one last time, and when his stunned silence continued, she walked away, leaving him alone with the crushing disappointment that he wouldn’t save his species after all.
“Cut! Great first go, guys, but [Y/n], you missed a line. After Alexander says ‘and let our species die’ —”
“‘Nothing lasts forever.�� Yeah, I know, sorry. Got ahead of myself.”
“Well, at least you kept going,” Alexander said as he came up to where you were standing to take his starting position again. “Most TV actors would have broken character, swore loudly then insisted on trying the whole thing again. You held it together like a true thespian.”
You smiled coyly. He was complimenting you!
“Well, my career has been theatre so far. I’m used to having to improvise on the spot without breaking character.”
Alexander smirked at you conspiratorially. “Honestly, I enjoy it. Keeps me on my toes. On camera, you stop and start again when you make a mistake - everything has to be so perfect. And once the filming’s done, that’s it, no going back. In theatre, you do it a little differently every night. It’s so much more…”
He paused, looking for the right word.
“Organic?”
Alexander looked at you with surprise, as if it were a wonder you understood.
You wanted to talk to him more about theatre, something you both clearly loved, but you had to do the scene five more times to get the right camera angles, so you returned to your mark by the window and readied yourself to do the whole thing over again.
When the scene was finally declared finished, you were done for the day, so you returned to the make-up room to get your cap taken off. Alexander had one more scene to do on the brig, so once Lena had released your hair from its captivity and you were back in your regular Earth clothes, you snuck into the back of the set to watch the cast wrapping up. When else would you get an opportunity to see a classic Galaxy Quest brig room scene being filmed?
Jason Nesmith was giving one of his classic Taggart speeches, all the crew showing rapt attention except for Lazarus, who was seemingly distracted.
The speech concluded, the crew applauded and set to work, and Taggart swaggered up to Lazarus at his station.
“Lazarus! Something up, buddy? You didn’t applaud or nod once during my speech. Was it not inspiring enough for you?”
Lazarus looked up at his captain and smiled good-naturedly. “Very inspiring, Captain, thank you. My apologies, I was…”
He glanced forward thoughtfully, looking at the cosmos through the window and remembering his conversation with Bethany earlier. Alexander in fact looked behind the cameras, and straight at you.
“…distracted,” he finished.
“Ah, thinking of that new girl, are ya? Not surprised, she’s a pretty one. I presume. If she had hair instead of your head thing, I’d think she was pretty. Suppose she’s pretty to you, isn’t she?”
“Mhm…” Lazarus responded, Alexander’s eyes still fixed directly on you. He blinked, as if snapping himself out of a trance, then turned back towards Taggart. “Yes, I suppose she is. Excuse me, Captain.”
He stood and exited the scene by the doors at the back. Jason finished the scene with a conversation with Gwen DiMarco, then the director called cut.
“Great take, everyone! Alexander - your best one yet. You really sold us on how conflicted Lazarus is. Alright, that’s a wrap for today, we’ve got some sets to prepare over the weekend so we’ll see you all bright and early on Monday!”
The crew began shutting down and you slipped back out so as to not get in the way. You were at the cloakroom collecting your coat and bag when Alexander, still in his costume, came up to you, taking you by surprise.
“Jesus! Sorry, Alexander, you scared me.”
He smirked. “Sorry. I just wanted to say, you weren't awful today. Did you say you came from theatre?”
You blushed, and you could feel that this time your cheeks really had gone red. “Oh - wow, thanks. Erm, yeah, nothing major, I’ve just been understudying the last couple of years.”
“Nonsense, understudies are vital! Learning everyone’s roles and being ready to take any one of them on at any moment? No wonder you did so well today without rehearsal. Listen, the cast and I are heading out to a bar tonight. It’s not often we get a whole weekend off. Would you like to join us?”
Surprise and excitement sprung up inside your chest. Surprise that the man who’d been grumpy all day was suddenly being nice, and excitement at the chance to socialise with the Galaxy Quest cast.
“Sure, I’d love to! Where are we going?”
Alexander winced. “Paolo’s Karaoke Bar. I’d avoid that place like the plague myself, but there are private rooms so we won’t be disturbed by fans, and the beer is good.”
“How many beers do I have to buy you to convince you to sing?” you grinned.
“I’ll be blackout drunk getting my stomach pumped before you get a note out of me. Is that a yes?”
“Yes, I’d love to come!”
“Great - and no recording any of it,” Alexander added sternly as you slipped your coat off again and came back inside to wait for everyone to finish getting out of their costumes. “If even a single photo of this ends up on Twitter, I’m holding you personally accountable. We don’t usually invite fans to join us, but since technically you’re an actor…”
“No tweeting, got it. I do just need to let my roommate know where I’m going, though. In case of, you know, murder.”
Alexander frowned at you.
“It’s a girl thing. Go, get de-capped, I’ll wait here.”
Alexander sighed, muttered something about young people, and left you waiting in the hallway, wondering what the night had in store for you.
---
You didn’t remember much of the taxi ride to Alexander’s house. Apparently it took half an hour, but you hardly paid attention, as you were far too busy snogging him in the back seat to care how long you’d been in the car for.
You came up for air when the taxi pulled up to the house, and once you ungracefully clamoured out of the car, Alexander paid the driver while you stared up at the Beverly Hills mansion.
“You live here alone?!” you gasped.
“Welcome to the rich side of town,” Alexander replied, his feet as unsteady as yours as he approached you and wrapped an arm around your waist. “Wanna see the inside?”
“Hell yes.”
After some fumbling with his keys, Alexander managed to get the front door open and he ushered you inside. He switched on the lights, and you gasped at just how huge and open the space was. Half the walls were all window, and those that were actual wall were lined with posters from Alexander’s previous projects - mostly his theatre shows, with a few films here and there.
“That’s the one I have,” you laughed, pointing to the poster of him from Richard III.
Alexander wrapped his arms around you from behind, his erection pressing into your arse as he held you close. “Is that so? How many wanks did teen [Y/n] have staring at that poster?”
“Far too many to count.”
“Did you imagine your fingers were mine?” Alexander murmured softly in your ear, one hand travelling tauntingly slowly past the waistband of your trousers. “Did you slip them inside trying to emulate my cock? Because believe me, mere fingers couldn’t come even close to stretching you the way my cock can.”
“I - I have a vibrator named after you,” you admitted, anticipating building up inside you when Alexander cupped your cunt with his hand, savouring the warmth you were radiating against him.
“My, you really are a naughty thing, aren’t you? Let’s see if my fingers live up to your imagination.”
You gasped as he slipped his middle finger inside you, firm and thick, his skin slightly rough and absolutely nothing like your own.
Alexander kept one arm firmly around your chest, a hand cupping your breast through your top, and you had to lean back into him to stay upright. He buried his face in your neck, teeth and tongue exploring your skin, his hair tickling your face slightly. His thumb circled your lower lips, searching for that sweet spot, and when he found it, you moaned, which quickly turned into a hiccup.
Alexander smirked against your neck, but when you hiccupped again, he paused his sensual movements.
“Hic - sorry,” you mumbled, your head spinning slightly from the combination of alcohol and arousal.
“Sit down, I’ll get you some water,” Alexander said softly. He pulled his hand out of your pants, which you thoroughly disliked, but you did feel better when he deposited you on the couch and went into the kitchen to fetch you some water. The couch was warm and soft, and you felt like you could just sink into it and sleep as comfortably as on a bed…
The next thing you knew, you were lying on your front, your eyes blinking open, though you quickly squeezed them shut when you saw the sunlight pouring in from the window.
You buried your face in the pillow and let out a groan. Your head was pounding. Great, you’d woken up with a migraine.
No… it wasn’t a migraine. It was a hangover. You could feel the familiar ache in your stomach as it tried to digest the alcohol you’d consumed.
You’d been hungover enough in the past to know your routine. Toilet, coffee, a greasy breakfast and a shower, in that order.
You reluctantly sat up in the bed, your eyes adjusting to the light, and your heart skipped a beat in fear for a moment when you didn’t recognise your surroundings. Whose bed were you in if not your own?!
You looked around for a clue, and on a wall was a glaringly obvious one - a massive four-panel framed art piece featuring Alexander Dane’s brooding headshot.
Oh god, you were in Alexander Dane’s bed.
…Alone. Where was the man himself?
You rolled out of the superking-sized bed, which was difficult as you were slap bang in the middle. You reached the edge eventually, and when you threw the covers back and sat up, you noticed that your trousers and bra had been discarded, but you still had your top on.
You trudged into the en-suite bathroom, which was bigger than your own bedroom, and sat down on the toilet. You’d solve the mystery of how you ended up alone in Alexander Dane’s bed in a bit - you had to take care of business first.
When that was done, you were feeling a bit more awake, and managed to find your discarded trousers on the floor. You couldn’t find your bra, so you pushed that thought aside for later, and turned your attention to finding Alexander.
He was, you discovered, fast asleep on the sofa in the living room, mouth gaping most inelegantly as he snored, one leg bent and the other splayed on the floor, with one arm on his chest and the other behind his head.
You nudged him softly. When he didn’t respond, you tickled his exposed armpit.
“What the fuck!” Alexander grumped as he shot awake, his arm instinctively clamping down against his side to protect himself from any further tickle attacks. He blinked, delirious, then saw you standing over him and frowned. “[Y/n]? What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I was hoping you’d know the answer to that,” you replied. “Last I remember we were at the bar, next thing I know I’m waking up in your bed without you in it.”
Alexander sat up, looking just as affronted by the light as you were, and he rubbed his temple.
“I don’t remember anything after the bar either,” he mumbled. “Why am I on the couch?”
“Dunno. I’d suggest you were a gentleman and insisted I took the bed, but from what I’ve learnt of you in the last day, you probably just collapsed on the sofa and I took the bed for myself.”
Alexander grunted, then yawned. “Ugh. Want some coffee?”
“If you’re offering.”
“‘Course I am. More of a gentleman than you seem to think.”
Alexander pushed himself up off the couch and shuffled off towards the kitchen, then paused halfway to pick something up from the armchair.
“This yours?”
He turned and offered you your own bra, and you blushed.
“Oh… yeah, I was wondering where that was.”
Alexander passed it to you without much thought, then continued his half-asleep trek to the kitchen, leaving you to wonder why the fuck your bra had been discarded on the armchair.
You quickly pulled off your top and set about putting your bra back on, trying to be quick before Alexander saw you, but of course by hurrying you fumbled more with the catch and it took you longer than you’d have liked before you finally got the straps over your shoulders and pulled your top back over your head.
“How do you like it?” Alexander asked when you entered the kitchen.
“Strong and black.”
“A woman after my own heart.”
You blushed again and sat yourself on a stool, looking around the kitchen, trying to remember something, anything, from your journey between the bar and Alexander’s bed.
“I vaguely recall offering you to stay at mine rather than get a taxi to your place alone,” Alexander said after a few moments. He was staring at the coffee maker as it boiled, as if his memories from last night were in there. “But after that, nothing until you attacked my armpit.”
“I don’t even remember that much. I think my memory ran out of storage about 2am.”
“So you remember karaoke then?”
You grinned. “Yes, I remember karaoke.”
“Mmph. Unfortunately so do I.”
Alexander poured you a hot cup of coffee, and when the first sip of the bitter drink passed your lips, you felt as if your soul had been renewed.
“That is the best thing I have ever tasted in the history of anything,” you sighed happily. “Both because I desperately need caffeine and because that’s a damn good coffee.”
“Some fancy stuff Gwen got me for Christmas,” Alexander said, leaning against the counter as he cradled his own cup like it was his salvation. “I don’t usually share it, so you should be honoured.”
You smiled. “It’s the greatest of honours.”
You were silent for a few minutes as you savoured your drinks, you trying to recall the previous night and he remembering small slivers of moments as his memory slowly came back to him.
He remembered coming back from the kitchen with a glass of water only to find you’d passed out on the sofa. He had tried to wake you, but you were out cold, so instead he hoisted you up and carried you to his bed. Exhaustion hit him, and he didn’t want to share a bed with you without your permission, so he relegated himself to the sofa instead.
That was all he remembered. How your bra had ended up on the armchair, he had no idea, because he was certain he’d dumped you on the bed fully dressed.
Once he’d managed to send you on your way, Alexander sat down at his computer and logged on to boot up the security programme. He had installed security cameras around his house in case of a break-in, not in case of lost drunken memories, but he absolutely had to know why your bra had made its way to the armchair.
He loaded the living room camera from the previous night and scrubbed through the footage until he saw the two of you walk in through the front door, then he slowed down and watched.
You came in first, followed by him, and - oh, god. His hand was down your trousers almost instantly. You looked very pleased with his actions, but you were clearly wasted - almost as soon as he left to fetch you some water, you sat down on the sofa and passed out.
Alexander watched as he carried you into the bedroom, then returned shortly after to pass out on the sofa himself. The armchair was still braless so he sped up the footage, until about an hour later when you appeared at the doorway.
He’d apparently not fallen asleep yet or was sleeping lightly, because you had only to say something to have him sitting up. You perched yourself on the arm of the armchair, the two of you exchanged words with each other - Alexander cursed himself for not having audio recording on this thing - and, to his own surprise, he stood up from the sofa, crossed the room in a few long strides, and his lips were on yours.
He watched himself sit on the chair and pull you onto his lap, and from the camera’s angle he could mostly just see your back, but it was plain that the two of you were kissing passionately. His arms wrapped around you and held you close, then grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled the whole thing over your head. You reached behind to unclasp your bra and threw it over the back of the armchair, where he’d find it later that morning.
Alexander sighed. What on earth had he been thinking?
Well, that was no question at all. His stupid, primal, drunk man brain had thought, Woman wants to fuck me. Dick wants to fuck woman. Must obey dick.
Never mind how young you were, or how drunk, or the fact that you were a bloody fan, probably just eager to tell your friends that you’d scored with Dr Lazarus.
He watched the screen anxiously, waiting for something to happen that he’d regret. He watched as you pulled away from the kiss to say something, and his horny, drunk self grinned excitedly.
Had he really fucked you and forgotten all about it?
On the screen, you said something else, and his past self paused. He said something, you replied, and he shook his head.
You seemed to protest, but he insisted and pushed you off his lap. You were apparently irritated, by the way that you grabbed your top and stormed off, leaving him to drag himself back to the sofa and fall back asleep, both of you leaving the bra behind on the armchair.
Alexander scrubbed through the footage just to be sure, but nothing else happened until you appeared hours later to wake him up.
He closed the footage and leant back in his chair with a sigh. He was relieved he’d apparently changed his mind about your drunken fumble, but now he had a conundrum. Should he tell you what the footage showed? Surely you too were wondering how the bra got there. Or did you know? You’d seemed just as confused as he was, and in fact seemed to not remember anything at all about coming back to his house. Or maybe you were just covering it up by pretending not to remember anything at all.
What would be the point in telling you? “Hey, [Y/n], I checked my cameras and we almost hooked up but apparently I changed my mind and sent you to bed. Just letting you know.”
If you knew, you might think it meant you had a chance with him. Alexander didn’t have anything against dating other actors, but he did have a strict rule about fans. He couldn’t possibly be with someone, whether for one night or long term, who just saw him as Dr Lazarus. Besides, if you liked the show, that clearly meant you had straw for brains, and he had higher standards than that.
No, he decided, it was best you didn’t know about that little fumble. On your next filming day, he would be nothing but professional, and any idea you might have of having a chance with him would quickly disappear.
---
Alexander’s version of “being professional” was to be even ruder to you than usual. You had no idea why he was being so abrasive, but he hardly spoke to you in the make-up room, chatting exclusively to Lena and giving you short, one or two word answers if he had to speak to you at all.
With no memory of the events on Friday, you could only conclude that Alexander just didn’t like you, though he didn’t seem to like anyone, so you tried not to take it personally. Even so, being rejected by your favourite actor for no apparent reason was soul-crushing to say the least.
You knew trying to talk to him and getting rebuffed would just upset you, so you decided to follow his lead and keep conversation to a minimum. While the cameras were rolling, you had an intense, uncertain relationship between your characters, but as soon as the cameras stopped, Alexander was back to ignoring you.
Even with his cold attitude towards you, you still managed to make the most of the experience, choosing to focus instead on the thrill of being on the Galaxy Quest set. Your character was in three episodes, arriving towards the end of your first episode, spending your second episode travelling with the crew, and in the third episode they dropped her off on a planet to settle down after her years in captivity.
The second episode was the most fun to film, because you got to be part of the crew for a while, and interacting with the other actors helped you forget Alexander’s permanent cold shoulder.
Just as you’d filmed your first scene first, you filmed your last scene last, and you travelled out on location for the scene, which was set on the planet of Atera.
Bethany said her goodbyes to the crew as they climbed aboard the ship to set off again, waiting on board as Lazarus stayed behind to speak to her alone.
“You’re sure you won’t come with us?” he asked. “There’s so much more to see out there.”
Bethany smiled sadly and nodded. “I’m sure. I need to figure out who I am outside of a cage before I go looking for adventure. But…”
She took his hand, which was soft again - did Alexander Dane moisturise?
“I’m very glad I met you, Lazarus. I thought I was alone in the universe, but… now I know you’re out there, I won’t feel so alone anymore.”
He looked at her searchingly, almost imploringly, as if looking for a last-minute way to convince her to stay.
“I’ll miss you,” Lazarus admitted.
“I’ll miss you too. Will you visit?”
“I want to… but we don’t often return where we’ve been.”
“Oh,” Bethany said sadly, glancing away, and your heart skipped a beat when Lazarus gently put an arm around her shoulder and pointed up at a constellation in the sky.
“That’s where we’re going. Always forward. So if you do miss me… just look up. That’s where I’ll be.”
Just look up. That’s where I’ll be. Alexander had been trying fruitlessly to convince Frank to take out that cheesy line, but it had been a losing battle.
Bethany craned her neck to look into the sky, then turned to look at Alexander next to her.
“Thank you for saving me.”
Lazarus looked down at her.
“My dear, I think you may well have saved me.”
Bethany kissed his cheek and smiled sweetly. Lazarus hesitated, but he let her go and made his way to the ship.
She waved him off, and when cut was called, you thought it curious how familiar kissing Alexander on the cheek felt, as if it were something you were completely comfortable with.
Perhaps you were getting too into character.
---
You were admittedly disappointed with how unceremoniously you left the studio. You had your cap removed in the usual awkward silence with Alexander, who just grunted at you when you said goodbye.
In the theatre, you knew straight away how people felt about your performance. You’d sometimes hear reactions in the moment; otherwise, you’d receive (or not) applause at the end, and reviews were online and in the papers the very next day.
Television was different. You had signed an NDA banning you from sharing details of your character or the storyline you’d been involved in. And the episode wouldn’t air for months, so you had no way of knowing how your performance would be received.
The other strange thing was that you could watch your own performance on TV along with everyone else.
Over the months since your week on set, you’d found a role as an understudy in a production of Sweeney Todd, and in between rehearsing for three different roles and occasionally even getting to perform them, you’d made some good friends with cast and crew members, all of whom supported one another’s various attempts to make a career in LA.
So when the day came that your first episode would air, you had your friends over to watch your episode with you, many of them also fans of the show, or if not they came anyway simply to support you.
You didn’t appear until the very end of the episode, Bethany’s getaway into the Protector with Lazarus and the rest of the crew acting as cliffhanger, but it was still an incredible experience to watch yourself, in full prosthetics, acting in Galaxy Quest with Alexander Dane - who, despite being a complete jackass, was still your favourite actor.
“Oh my god, I so ship them!” your friend Stephanie, who played Johanna, crooned as soon as the credits rolled. “[Y/n], please tell me you and Lazarus get together!”
“I can’t tell you what happens, you know that!” you replied, throwing your hands up in innocence. “By pain of death. Or, well, by pain of a big payment if I was responsible for any leaks, and I can not afford that.”
“Eiw, did you have to kiss Alexander Dane though?” Stephanie gagged.
“What do you mean, eiw?”
“He’s ancient!”
“He’s not! He’s 53.”
“Don’t bother, Steph, [Y/n]'s in lurrrrve with Alexander Dane,” scoffed Mike from costume, who’d found out about your crush when you’d bonded over a shared love of Galaxy Quest while he fitted you for your Mrs Lovett costume.
“I am not! I’ll have you know he was really rude to me all week we worked together. Hardly said a word to me. He’ll always be my favourite actor, but as a person? Hard pass.”
Perhaps that pass would be hard, because as it turned out, the fans loved your character. So much so that you were invited as a late addition guest at the Galaxy Quest convention in LA two weeks after your third and final episode had aired.
You gladly accepted - you were going to go anyway as an attendee, but as a guest? That was a much better option. You gave your ticket to Mike, who almost cried with jealousy that you were being invited as a guest.
You’d never been to the convention yourself before, as it was always in LA and you’d always lived in London, but you’d always followed the posts about it online, and you knew that the actors always went in their costumes, including Alexander wearing his cap. Would you be expected to do the same? You didn’t even have your costume anymore.
You arrived at the hotel on the Friday night and checked into the room you’d been given. The guests all had rooms on one floor, separated from fans, and your room was right at the end of the corridor - no doubt the last room available as you were invited so last minute.
You’d hardly begun to unpack your suitcase when you heard a knock on the door.
You opened it, your anxiety telling you that someone was about to tell you there’d been a mix up and you weren’t invited at all, but to your relief you recognised Lena, the make-up artist.
“There she is! Thought I’d bring this over and make sure you still fit.”
She held up a coat bag, no doubt containing your costume.
“You do costume now too?” you joked as you stepped aside to let her in.
“I do at things like this - cheaper for them to send me out on my own. Have you gained or lost any weight since filming?”
“Uh - I guess I might have lost some,” you said. “I don’t really keep an eye on it. But I’ve been doing a show so that keeps me in shape.”
“Ooh, which show you in?” Lena asked, and you told her about your time understudying in Sweeney Todd while she got you out of your clothes and into your costume.
“Aw, I’d love to see you in it some time! But I suppose you never know when you’ll be on, do you? That must be so hard learning all three roles. Gosh, look at you, you have lost weight! If we were filming I’d take the waist in a bit, but since we’re just here for the con, we can get away with it.”
“Am I gonna have to wear the head thing? I know Alexander always wears his.”
Lena scoffed. “Yeah, only to lower the risk of Galaxy Quest fans recognising him outside of the show. I got it with me if you want, but you don’t have to.”
You bit your lip and thought about it. You really didn’t want to wear it, but if Alexander was wearing his, you kind of felt like you should, in solidarity.
Then again, he didn’t care about your feelings, so why should you care about his?
“May I make a suggestion?” Lena asked.
“Absolutely not, you lowly make-up artist,” you scoffed.
Lena laughed. “You should wear it. Everyone’s still buzzing about Bethany, and since you’re so new to the scene people won’t recognise you without it yet. And it’ll be super cute if you and Alexander both wear it for your photo session! Here, let’s get you out of the costume for now, I’ll come back tomorrow to put it on you proper.”
“What photo session?” you asked as you turned around to let Lena take the costume apart.
“Haven’t you seen your schedule yet?”
“I had literally been here for five seconds when you knocked on the door. I haven’t even had a piss yet, let alone looked at my timetable.”
“You and Alexander have a double photo session in the afternoon. People pay $30 each for photos with you individually, or $50 for a pic with both of you.”
“Oh, bloody hell,” you sighed.
“That’s what he said too.”
“I’m surprised he even agreed to do it. He hates sharing the spotlight - although I suppose he doesn’t feel threatened by me. Still, I’m surprised he’d agree to spend any more time in my presence than he has to.”
“He doesn’t hate you, you know,” Lena told you as you stepped out of the costume and gratefully began putting your far more comfortable, human clothes on. “He’s just a miserable bastard. He quite likes you, actually.”
You scoffed.
“He hardly spoke to me all week during filming.”
“Maybe, but after you went home each day, he’d tell me how well you did in your scenes that day. And Gwen tells me he spoke highly of your performance after your episodes aired.”
“I’m surprised he watches the show.”
“He loves to watch himself. Right, that’s me done with you for tonight. The intro panel’s at 9 and I’ve gotta get Alexander’s cap on too, so I can come by at 7.30 with some breakfast and coffee to wake you up while I get you fitted. Sound good?”
“So long as the coffee’s strong and black, you can do anything you want to me.”
“Flirt.”
Lena winked at you and left, and with the promise of a 7.30 alien head thing fitting, you decided to get an early night.
---
No amount of black coffee could have prepared you for the convention.
You were shuffled through back corridors to behind the main stage at 8.45, where you found most of the main cast were waiting, all dressed in their costumes.
“Hey, it’s [Y/n]!” Guy said cheerily when he saw you. “Man, am I glad you’re here. This is my first con too, and I’m bricking it. I’ve been to loads before as a fan, obviously, but never as a guest. I’m so nervous!”
“Oh, er, me too,” you replied, a little taken aback by Guy’s enthusiasm so early in the morning. You glanced over at the others, and noticed one body missing. “Hey, where’s Jason?”
“Running late, of course,” grunted Alexander from the chair he was slouched in, looking as miserable as ever. “He’ll show up ten minutes late on purpose, all to get that extra round of applause.”
He didn’t even look up at you to say hello.
You turned to Guy.
“Hey, when they introduce us, d’you think we could go on at the same time? Then we can power through that terrifying first entrance together. I’m terrified of walking on stage after everyone else and getting crickets chirping.”
“Oh my god, me too!” Guy said with relief. “I’m so glad you said it. Yes, let’s do it.”
Alexander snorted derisively. “What, are you scared of walking on a stage?”
”This is a little different from a theatre show,” you retorted. “In the theatre, they applaud at the end, and they applaud based on your performance. Here they’re applauding us as people, and none of them know me. Or has it been so long you forgot what theatre bows are like?”
Alexander did look at you then, his eyes narrowed, as the others chortled at your dig.
“Remind me why she’s here?” he grumbled to no one in particular.
“Because we got about 200 emails last week asking if she’d be here,” replied the convention host, who decided now was a convenient time to walk in. “Right, you guys ready to go?”
The convention passed in a whirlwind. You were hurried from panel to signing to meet and greet with hardly a chance to breathe. You met hundreds of fans, whose names you scribbled alongside your signature then promptly forgot, and you took every chance you had to remind the fans you were talking to that you were one of them.
In the afternoon came your photo session with Alexander, and finally you got a moment of peace when you entered the room ten minutes before the fans were to be let in - although, you suspected, they were already lining up outside.
While the crew got the backdrop ready, you collapsed into a chair with a sigh of relief.
“You still have a day and a half to go, you know,” said a familiar voice.
You looked up to see Alexander leaning up against the wall, looking at you with amusement.
“I didn’t think so many people would want to see me,” you said honestly. “Sure I didn’t have a line like you guys had, but mine still didn’t stop. I think I’ve met more people this morning than I have in my entire life.
Alexander scoffed. “Yep, and they’ll be back tomorrow, expecting you to remember them all individually.”
“How many have asked you to say that line?”
“Too fucking many. How many have asked if you’re coming back?”
“Pretty much everyone.”
“What have you been telling them?”
“That Alexander Dane’s a twat and will probably refuse to work with me again.”
He laughed, but he didn’t deny it. He sighed, then came to sit by you.
“Look, I know I’m a twat. I’ll try to make this tolerable for you.”
“Gee, thanks. No one’s forcing you to do this with me. Couldn’t you have just said you didn’t wanna do a double shoot?”
“Actually… it was my idea.”
Now that surprised you. You looked at him questioningly, and he sighed.
“Look, Gwen always hates these things, alright? Blokes are always trying to touch her. It happens less when a man is there, as stupid as that is, so Jason or I usually do a double shoot with her.”
“And you thought they might do the same with me?”
Alexander shrugged. “Sure, why not? These basement dwellers don’t know how to act around a woman - add the fact you’re gorgeous and all hope is lost. So let me know if you’re uncomfortable, alright?”
You nodded, hoping Lena had caked you in enough make-up to hide your blush at the fact he’d called you gorgeous.
As it turned out, Alexander was right - fans really did have wandering hands. After the third narrowly avoided grope, you pulled Alexander aside before the next fan stepped up.
“Alex, that’s three guys who’ve tried to grab my arse already,” you whispered. “What do I do?”
“What? Who?”
Alexander looked around as if the groping fans might still be lingering, but they’d long been ushered away by event staff.
“I told you, [Y/n], you need to tell me when it happens.”
“What am I supposed to do? Shout ‘hey, everybody, this guy’s grabbing my arse’? That’s so embarrassing.”
Alexander thought for a moment.
“Alright, when it happens, you poke me with two fingers. I’ll pretend I noticed it myself.”
“Oh, planning non-verbal cues already, are we?” you joked, the words out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.
He snorted and rolled his eyes.
“Trust me, [Y/n] - if we fucked, I’d make sure you were very vocal.”
Your cheeks burned for the second time in that hour, but you had to push your sudden explicit thought about Alexander to the side, because you had two more hours to go of this torture.
Most of it went by without any more unwanted groping, but you were nearly at the end of the queue when one ball of sweat dressed in a very poorly made copy of Alexander’s costume placed his hand firmly on your rear.
You froze for a moment, then remembered to poke Alexander with two fingers. His head immediately whipped around and he looked down to see the fan’s hand far lower than it should be.
Alexander may be grumpy all the time, but there was a difference between grump and anger. He was never really angry unless he was acting - but he certainly wasn’t acting now.
You were fairly certain you didn’t even know half the swear words that came out of his mouth as he yelled at the fan. A brave staff member tried to intervene, but Alexander simply turned his vitriol to them, yelling at them for not making the event safer for female guests.
He ended his rant by ushering you along with him as he stormed out, and you felt a mixture of emotions - relief to be out of there, guilt for the fans still in line, and a bit (okay, maybe a lot) of arousal at Alexander defending you.
“Prats,” he cursed bitterly as the door closed behind you, leaving the two of you alone in the corridor. He turned to you. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied awkwardly, not really sure if you were being honest. “Thanks for, um, rescuing me.”
Alexander pursed his lips, his nostrils flaring as he shot a dark look back at the door.
“You got anything else on this afternoon?” he asked you.
“No, that was my last thing.”
“Do you want to go back to my room and raid the minibar? I usually get pissed on the agency’s credit card alone, but I guess you wouldn’t be the worst company.”
“That almost sounded like a compliment.”
“Make the most of it. Come on, I know a way upstairs we can go to avoid being seen.”
Alexander led you up to the floor you were all staying on, and you were halfway down the corridor to his room when your path was suddenly intercepted by Jane Doe, one of the new cast members for the reboot.
“Hello!” she announced cheerily, grinning at you both.
“Lal - er, Jane, what are you doing here?” Alexander said with confusion. “I thought you couldn’t make it this weekend.”
“It is my birthing day! We are having a party. You are coming too.”
Alexander glanced at you. “Oh - er - we’ll miss this one, actually. But happy… birthing day.”
He tried to step around her, but she simply followed his path, still grinning.
Apparently she was as strange as her character.
“You are coming!” Jane insisted.
She held something up in her hand and pressed a button, and your world went black.
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Run Rabbit, Run!" pt.2 - E.N
Summary: After getting sent to Arkham, Edward requests to see Y/n Wayne. The visit is not what y/n expected at all...(this might not be entirely consistent with the first part, but just ignore those parts pls. I have exams soon so I'm balancing writing and college and running on like 5 hours of sleep each day 😭 I'm still rlly proud of this tho <3 I hope u like it)
Pt.1 here pt.3 here
Content Warning: 18+, explicit language, AFAB!Reader, she/her pronouns, egotistical!Edward, stalker!Edward, yandere!Edward, brief mention of suicide, mentions of rough sex, EXTREMELY graphic descriptions of sexual intercourse, sexual content, dirty talk, daddy issues, daddy kink, praising, degrading, choking, slapping, edward referring to himself as a fox and y/n a rabbit, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, mentions of guns, mentions of torture. (Edward is a freak in this. This is kinda like joker/harley dynamic except there is no abuse, it's just that Edward is so fucking charming that y/n is OBSESSED with him.)
Word Count: 7k+
Songs For Inspo:
YOU'RE TOO SLOW (Bonus) - Odetari
Freak Show - Punkinloveee, h3artcrush
I LOVE YOU HOE (W/ 9lives) -Odetari
She' So Nice - Pink Guy
Custer - Slipknot
~Read Below Cut~
Y/n sat on her bed, head in her hands as she wept. Bruce put a hand on her back, rubbing comforting circles. It was a huge blow to her gut. She had fallen in love with Edward over the months they had been friends. The two of them had gotten so close. And now, she had found out that he was The Riddler. The real humiliating part? It was right under her nose. Though she had suspicions, she never wanted to believe them, so she ignored every red flag she saw.
"I'm really sorry." Bruce said.
"Bruce, is it bad that I still care about him?" She asked, tears forming in her eyes.
He sighed.
"No, I don't think so. He was your friend."
She nodded, wiping away the tears that spilled down her cheeks. Bruce frowned, pulling her in for a hug. After the whole incident happened, Bruce immediately went to y/n's apartment, outside of his armor of course. He knew she lived nearby and he wanted to make sure his sister was ok. Y/n had told him about the man she met in a bookstore, and from what she had shared with him, he was a good person. But, he should know better than anyone how easily one can hide their true self.
"I'm surprised he didn't try and hurt you. You're a Wayne and it seems like he has a grudge against our family."
"He has every right to hold a grudge against us!"
Bruce pulled away from the hug, confusion on his face. Y/n sighed, standing up and going to her nightstand. She opened it up and pulled out a file. Tossing it to Bruce, she crossed her arms over her chest. Inside was pictures of the old orphanage that was once Wayne Manor. Pictures of the living conditions, children, and even Edward were in there. Y/n had done some serious digging to get this information, though, it was easy if you were a Wayne of course.
"He lived in the orphanage, Bruce. His entire life. Our dad offered him a better life, told him that he could work for W.I."
"He did?" He asked, looking through the pictures.
"Yes, he did. Edward, he applied so many times to the Renewal project. But...dad and mom..." She trailed.
Bruce looked up at her, feeling his heart sink.
"...well, you and I were too young to take charge of anything. So, he was left to rot in that prison. He told me about the things he experienced there, Bruce. It haunts me that Wayne Enterprises let children suffer. We could have easily helped those poor children." She sniffled, holding back tears.
"Jesus."
"You think we're sad orphans, Bruce? Look at those pictures. Look at how they lived..."
He did. He saw all of it. The rats. The horrible beds that they had to sleep in, if they even could. Bruce felt cold just looking at the pictures. He winced as he saw one picture of a child, bite marks on their hands and fingers.
"When I was older, I found out about this. That's why I live out here, Bruce. I want to live like everyone else does. I donate to the orphanages, I do check ups to make sure everything is good, I donate to hospitals, I do volunteering. But, it was Edward who showed me how truly terrible this city is. Yes, he murdered people...but they were bad people Bruce. You know this. That's why he didn't go after me..."
"It sounds like you're defending his actions..." He raised an eyebrow.
"I'm not! I'm just...he's not a bad person, Bruce. Sick in the head, sure. I'm just worried about him..." She mumbled.
"Y/n, he murdered people."
"And you go around beating people up in a bat costume! Maybe you belong in Arkham too." She spat.
"I don't kill people."
"Well, maybe if you did this city would be safer!"
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"I-..I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm just shaken up. Frankly, I could give a shit about the people he killed, they were all scum. I'm just worried about Edward."
"Well, he's in Arkham, he's safe there. He can't hurt anyone and he can't hurt himself."
"I guess...not the most humane place though."
Y/n's phone rang, making both of them fall silent. Who could be calling this late at night? It had been an hour since Edward was apprehended, making it 1 A.M. She looked at Bruce before answering the phone.
"This is Y/n Wayne, who is this?"
'Ms. Wayne, this is Cap-...Commissioner Gordon.'
"Commissioner Gordon! Um, what's the matter?"
Bruce raised an eyebrow.
'It's 'The Riddler'. He's asked to see you in Arkham.'
"Oh, um...ok, I'll be there."
Y/n hung up the phone.
"It's Edward. He's requested to see me..."
"And you're going?" He asked.
"Well, of course I am. I need an explanation, some closure. He's still my friend, Bruce."
He sighed.
"I'm surprised he hasn't asked to see me. He seemed so obsessed with gaining my attention. Um, you're not going to tell him that I'm..."
"No, Bruce. I'm not an idiot. Can you drive me to Arkham, please? It'd be nice to have you there."
"Yeah, that's ok..."
~
When the Wayne siblings arrived, everyone practically worshipped them. Offering to open doors, constantly saying 'Ms. Wayne' and 'Mr. Wayne'. It annoyed the both of them a lot, though Bruce was the one who could hide the annoyance. Y/n, however, could not. Yes, she loved her family, but she didn't want to be seen as simply 'the Wayne daughter'. It put her on a high pedestal that she hated being on.
"Fuck, there he is." She mumbled, looking at him through the one way window.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes. Um, I know there is camera in the room, but do they pick up audio too? I'd prefer for our conversation to be private."
Bruce looked at the security officer.
"Oh, um, no ma'am they do not pick up sound. They only serve as surveillance to make sure an inmate doesn't try and do something they shouldn't. Sometimes we hold therapy sessions in here too, so, legally we can't record sound."
"Ok, thank you. Alright, I'm going in."
"I love you, little sis."
"I love you too, big brother."
Y/n took a deep breath as she opened the door. Edward's gaze landed on her immediately, causing her to feel small. Yes, y/n had always been slightly intimidated by Edward, but even more so now. He did not look like a person who was capable of violence, and yet he murdered multiple people. It was startling. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she sat down in the chair on the other side of the glass.
"Mmm, I knew you'd come..." He hummed.
"You're still my friend, Edward. I care about you."
He chuckled, deciding he'd circle back to that topic later. Tilting his head to the side, he raised his hands up slowly so the guard didn't get jumpy. Edward pointed at the thing in their hands.
"What's that?" He asked.
Y/n opened up the slot underneath the glass. She slid the item into the box, closing the lid. It fell to Edward's side, and he picked it up. A small smile formed on his lips. It was y/n's copy of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. Y/n watched as he flipped through the pages, immediately feeling himself grow warm with happiness.
"I was going to bring you a blanket, but they said that it was a safety hazard. They said you could hang yourself with it." She grumbled.
"Well, this is still a nice present."
It fell silent in the visiting room. The only sound was the flipping of the pages as Edward skimmed through the book. He looked so nonchalant, as if he didn't just snipe Falcone less than 2 hours ago. Though, to be fair, his death wasn't that distressing. Y/n was just startled by how calm he was, especially with where he was.
"Edward, why did you call me here?"
"Hm, I'm not entirely sure...I suppose I just wanted to see my 'friend' again." He smiled innocently.
Y/n huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Edward smirked, humming to himself like he usually did. His fingers rapped against the book, creating small tap sounds. Eventually, y/n just rolled her eyes.
"Look, if you aren't going to talk to me then I'll just go."
"Oh, you will? Ok then, go ahead."
Y/n looked at him, cheeks tinted slightly pink. He had that smug grin on his face, y/n had seen it a lot. Edward had that look when he won a game they were playing or if he stumped y/n on a riddle. But, this time it was more sinister. It sent chills down her spine and she stayed put in the chair. Edward chuckled, nodding his head slowly. He didn't have to say anything, they both knew he called her out on her bluff. Sighing, he looked at her with kind eyes, but his tone of voice was the complete opposite. He was so good at pretending to be something he was not.
"Y/n Wayne, you knew who I was for a while. Why didn't you say anything?" He questioned.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about, Edward."
"Hm, so you never saw the mask in my pocket that one night? You never saw the tiny dots of blood on my face ? The riddles never raised a red flag?" He asked, continuing to flip through the book.
Y/n was silent, looking down at her hands shamefully. Edward tutted, shaking his head. Coolly, he read a small part of the page he was on before looking back up at y/n. She nodded, admitting that she saw them all.
"Uh huh, so why didn't you say anything? I'm dying to know the answer..."
"I-It was because you were my...friend, Edward. I was conflicted."
He kept his face neutral as he looked at her.
"Mmm, there's that word again. Friend. I know you're lying about your answer, so I'll make a deal with you. I'll tell you a secret I've been keeping for a while, and you in return will give me an honest answer. Sound fair?" He asked.
Before she could answer, he started to talk again.
"I've been stalking you for months, y/n. Long before I 'met' you in that bookstore. Did you know that?" He giggled.
"What?"
"Did you really think I just happened to show up in your favorite bookstore? That I just happened to live directly across from you? I know everything about you, y/n. I've been watching you. Studying you. Like a predator stalks their prey."
"You're fucking with me, Edward. That's not funny." She scolded.
"Oh, I don't think it's funny either. I'm being very serious, y/n. Now, why don't you tell me the truth about why you never ratted me out?"
"What the fuck..." She mumbled.
"Well? I'm waiting for an answer."
She was taken aback by his secret, but it made sense the more she thought about it. Of course he had stalked her. She was just too fucking stupid to see it. The thought of Edward stalking her for months before they met scared the shit out of her. But, at the same time, it excited her.
"Y-You're a creep! I trusted you! I lov-..." She trailed.
"Aha, there's the answer I was looking for! Go on, say it." He cackled.
She sighed, looking at her hands again.
"I loved you, Edward. That's why I never said anything."
"Loved? Oh no, you still love me y/n. I know you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here."
"I do not love you! You're a psycho, a creep, and a murderer!" She spat.
"You knew all of those things before, yet you still were 'friends' with me. Isn't that right?" Edward smirked.
"W-"
"And don't act like you hate the idea of me stalking you. I know who you are, y/n. You're so easy to read."
"I-I don't know what you're talking about..."
Edward sighed in annoyance, propping his forearms up on the metal ledge. He maintained his neutral facial expression as he looked at her. Y/n felt small under his gaze and he knew it. He knew he had power over her. He always would.
"Tell me, doesn't the thought of me watching you from my apartment excite you? Waiting all night for even the tiniest glimpse of you? I know how much you crave attention from others." Edward suavely said.
"I-I mean..."
"Oh, precious Y/n never got the attention she so desperately wanted growing up. No mommy and daddy to tell her 'I'm so proud of you, sweet girl!'. Isn't that right, rabbit?" He cooed.
Y/n felt a chill go down her spine. He was right. Fuck, he was good at reading people. Sniffling, y/n nodded her head. How the hell was he doing this to her?
"Oh, the poor thing. You have such a kind heart, always giving and giving and giving. When has anyone ever given you anything in return? When was the last time someone praised you?" He asked.
Y/n reached up, wiping a tear from her eye quickly.
"S-So long..."
"That just won't do, will it? No, I don't think it will."
She looked at him, lips quivering.
"You know who is proud of you? Eddie."
He watched as she smiled softly. Edward loved seeing her smile so much. If he could just capture a picture of it and keep it, he was sure he would never feel sadness ever again.
"Y-You are?" She sniffled.
"Of course I am, sweetheart. You make me so proud. There are so many things you're good at that deserve praise. Your art, your constant donations to charity, your kind heart, my oh my the list goes on!" He chuckled.
Y/n was blushing like a school girl. To be completely honest, she didn't care that Edward had stalked her. Sure, it was a little jarring, but he was the first person to show her genuine love in a long time. Y/n was head over heels for him and there was nothing she could do about it. The heart wants what it wants after all.
"Oh, there's that beautiful smile. Such a pretty girl. But, y/n, I do have one thing I'm not proud of at all."
"W-What dad-...Edward?"
He smiled to himself at her near 'slip up'. If she had called him it, he wouldn't have minded at all. Actually, he would have loved it...
"You see, you lie to me a lot. You think I never notice, but I do."
"I-I'm sorry..."
"Do not apologize, y/n. All will be forgiven if you just tell me the truth about one thing."
"O-Ok!"
"That's my girl, now, the 'bad dream' you had earlier. I believe you didn't tell me the full story. Why don't you tell Eddie alllll about it?" He grinned.
"O-Oh...um, I-..." She trailed.
"You can tell me anything, rabbit. I'll keep it as a secret."
Swallowing a lump in her throat, she nodded softly. Edward kept his gaze on her. It was a good thing that the cameras didn't record audio, because he knew what was coming. Yes, he already knew what the dream centered around, but he wanted to hear her say it. He wanted to hear the filthy words leave her mouth.
"W-Well, I was honest about dreaming that you were the Riddler..."
"And you were right! You're so smart." He praised.
Y/n should have felt disgusted at how light hearted he was, but she wasn't. It was upsetting how in love she was with him. She was y/n Wayne and she was in love with The Riddler. But, the shame behind that brought excitement. It was a secret between the two of them, a forbidden love. Just like Romeo & Juliet.
"...but you um, you were frightening. A-And, I um...liked it." She mumbled.
He raised an eyebrow.
"Can you elaborate?"
"I th-thought it was hot...that you um, were making me scared. Um, you were being really um...rough." She stuttered.
Edward felt his dick slowly getting hard. He cursed the glass in his head and the cameras. If he could he'd reach right across and give y/n something to dream about for years to come. Groaning softly, he nodded his head. He wasn't going to be vague anymore. He was going to be blunt.
"Did I fuck you?"
"I-..no. I w-woke up before anything like that happened." She admitted.
"Mmm, so you got all worked up over a dream I didn't even fuck you in? You must have really loved what I was saying and doing in it, huh?" He teased.
"Yeah. I-I did."
"You say we're friends, y/n. But, do friends say they love each other in a romantic way? Do friends have wet dreams about each other?" He asked.
"N-No, they don't..."
"That's right. Mmm, I've had dreams of you too, rabbit. Filthy, filthy, dreams." Edward shivered.
Y/n shifted in her seat, arousal soaking through her panties. Edward could tell she was turned on. She couldn't keep still, thighs subtly rubbing together. He tutted and shook his head.
"Now, now, you better stop that. You don't want to get caught, do you? How embarrassing would that be to have your brother find out that The Riddler was making your pussy wet? I'd be mortified if I were you." He taunted.
She whimpered, ceasing the movement of her legs. Edward could see how much willpower it was taking her not to do it. Amused, he smiled and tilted his head. He was going to torment her, tease her until she was merely a puddle on the chair.
"Ever since I first saw you, I was fascinated. That fascination turned into love. And with most love, comes lust. And oh, my sweet rabbit, I have never wanted someone as badly as I want you."
"R-Really?"
"Believe me when I say that I want to ruin you, y/n."
Y/n whined, resisting the urge to dive her hands down her pants. Edward scoffed, resting his hands back in his lap. He grabbed his dick through his pants, adjusting it.
"I have much more to say, y/n. I suggest you do your best to keep your face neutral. But you can moan, just quietly. I would very much love to hear you moan. I've wondered what it might sound like."
She nodded, gaining her composure as much as she could. Sighing, Edward looked towards the ceiling. It looked as if he was collecting his thoughts. Y/n nearly trembled in anticipation.
"I've had so many dreams of you. Some of them are sweet. Those ones consist of us going on dates, maybe a park or a movie." He said.
"That sounds nice."
"It does, doesn't it?" He smiled.
"But the other ones, ohhh, they are filthy. They are so vulgar that I'm not sure I should let them fall upon your ears." He hummed playfully.
"N-No, I want to hear! Please daddy!" She blurted out, covering her mouth with her hand.
He smiled gently, his dick twitching underneath his pants. A soft groan left his lips. Edward was wishing a painful death the the guard watching their visit. He wished for the cameras to power down and for the glass to disappear.
"You sound just like you do in my dreams. I can't say no to how pathetic that sounded."
Y/n blushed, rubbing her thigh with her hand. It was out of view of the cameras and the window, so Edward allowed it.
"I've had dreams where you're on your knees, begging for me. You always look so desperate and needy every time. It's such a pitiful sight that I can't help but give you what you want. Do you know what you want in those dreams?" He asked flatly.
"W-What, da-" She paused.
"Oh rabbit, you can call me that if you'd like. It sounds so good rolling of your tongue..." Edward smirked.
"Ok, daddy...um, what do I want in your dreams?"
Leaning forward, he got closer to the glass. A cocky, toothy smile plastered over his face. His eyes were bright and happy, as if he was about to tell her a funny joke. Raising up his hands, slowly, he made a very subtle 'jerking' motion.
"To get fucked like a whore, obviously." He laughed.
Y/n whimpered. Her chest was tightening from how aroused she was. She took a deep breath, letting it out through pursed lips. Edward grinned, seeing how worked up he was making her.
"Oh, but you're not a whore. No, far from it. In my dreams I may fuck you like one, but you don't act like one. Once I'm done giving you a good dick down, you get so clingy. You're so dependent on me, never wanting to leave my side. It's so precious. I only hope that you're like that outside of my dreams too." He cooed.
"Y-Yes, I am! I-I'm here, after all. I missed you..."
"Oh, that's so sweet. I shoot and kill Carmine Falcone and the first thing you think of is 'I want Edward! Where's Eddie? I miss him so much!'. Is that right?"
"Well, not exactly."
"Hm?"
"I cried first..."
Edward felt a pang in his chest. It genuinely hurt his heart to hear her say that. He never wanted to make her cry, unless it was from pleasure.
"You poor thing, I never though about how you'd feel. I never wanted to make you cry, I just wanted to get rid of the scum that pollutes Gotham." He frowned.
"I know, I may not agree with the murdering...but I'm not saying I miss Falcone either. It just scared me. I was just worried about what would happen to you..."
"You were worried about me, rabbit? You don't need to do that. I can take care of myself, y/n." He smiled.
She nodded. Edward could tell that she felt sad. He did not want her to be sad, not at all.
"You know I love you, y/n. Right?" He asked.
"Y-Yes, I do."
"I did it all for you. I had different plans for Gotham before. I was going to do something far worse, but you made me change my mind. I just want you to live in a city where you can be safe."
Y/n smiled. It was a messed up way to show he loved and cared for her, but she hadn't been loved before. She didn't care anymore, she just was warmed that he wanted her to be safe. Even if he did it through murdering crooked and corrupt people. She blushed, looking down at her hands.
"No, no, don't hide your face. I want to see it." He asked softly.
She looked back up, faint pink dusted on the tip of her nose and her cheeks. Edward loved that about her so much. He thought it made her look so happy and gentle. He chuckled, clapping his hands together as much as he could with the handcuffs on.
"There she is, the prettiest thing in Gotham." He smiled.
"You're making me blush, Edward..." She mumbled.
"I know and I love it. I love watching you get flustered, it's so precious. If only I could touch you..." He sighed.
"Why do you want to touch me?" She asked.
"Well, I want to hold you and kiss you, y/n. That the first thing I want to do." Edward hummed.
"First? Wh-what are the other things?"
"The things I dream of, rabbit." He grinned.
"Tell me more about the dreams!" Y/n said.
He tutted, wagging his finger back and forth. Eyes were squinted as he disapprovingly frowned. He rested his forearms back on the metal ledge, smiling cockily.
"Now, that sounded like a demand. You aren't telling me to do something without asking nicely, are you?"
"N-No, I'm sorry! P-Please, tell me more Eddie." She corrected herself.
"That sounds much better."
He looked her up and down, sighing happily.
"Tell you more, hm? But there are so many dreams, so many fantasies. Though, one thing stays the same in every single one." Edward stated.
"What is that?" Y/n asked curiously.
He planted his hands on the cold surface, leaning towards the glass. His face turned into a very sadistic and comical expression. Dramatically, he emphasized his words.
"You take my dick like a fucking champ..." He smirked.
Y/n moaned, letting out a breathy sigh. Edward stayed in his close position, not finished with what he was saying.
"I'd fuck you so perfectly that nobody else's dick could even make you feel a fraction as good. But before I'd do that, I'd make sure you're on the brink of tears in desperation. You don't get dicked unless I believe you've earned it. I'd want you on your knees, begging, whimpering, groveling at my feet in hopes that I'll fuck your needy pussy." He chuckled.
Y/n's mouth was slightly agape, startled by how blunt he was. He looked like such a shy person, yet he was a total freak. Again, he was so good at pretending to be someone he was not. Everything he was saying seemed so out of character for him, but in reality, it was his true self. Y/n was just the only one who could bring that side out of him. Edward groaned, pointing at her mouth. He seemed irritated or frustrated, either one really.
"That pretty mouth, it's practically asking me to fuck it. Those lips look so plump and soft. Oh rabbit, open up, let me see your tongue." He asked, on the verge of pleading.
She hesitated slightly, but did as he said. Of course she did. No matter what, she would listen to and do what he said. She was his property, and they both knew it. None of them had to even say it. It was obvious that y/n was Edward's girl. Titles weren't necessary. She was simply his, as much as he was hers. Y/n let her tongue roll out and let Edward look at it for a bit. She did it in a way so that the cameras didn't see, and if they did, it just looked like she was yawning in a way. He covered his mouth with his fingers, doing his best to not jerk off at the brief sight of her tongue.
"Ffffuu...it's a blessing that I can't touch you. Your throat would be raw after I finish with you..." He groaned.
Y/n whined, spreading her legs open subtly. Edward looked down, seeing the obvious damp spot over her pelvic region. His tongue darted out and swiped over his lips. Her eyes were silently screaming 'Please, I want you!' and he loved it. Once again, he cursed the glass between them. He just wanted to devour her, taste her, eat her alive like a fox eats a rabbit. She probably tasted so sweet...
"I wish you could see how you look right now. It's so pitiful. You look like you want to be fucked so bad. Do you want to be fucked?" He groaned.
"Y-Yes, I need it daddy..." She shivered.
"Need? You desperate thing, tell me why you need to get fucked by me."
"B-Because I'm so w-wet...it aches..." Y/n whined.
"Poor rabbit, if he could daddy would bend you over and fuck you against this glass." He said flatly.
Y/n moaned softly, making Edward grip his pants. The sound was nearly enough to make him bust all over the hospital uniform. Not wanting to draw attention, Edward looked at the book again. He pretended to read it.
"You said you dreamt I was rough with you, yet I didn't even fuck you? Well, I can promise you that I'd never hurt you with your permission, I want you to know that. I love you too much to do that to you. I believe that trust and safety is important when doing things like that. So, do you trust me, y/n?" He asked, looking up from the book.
"Y-Yes."
"You believe I'll keep you safe?"
"Yes, I do."
"And you'd tell me if you were uncomfortable, yes?"
"Of course."
Edward looked back down at the book, once again pretending to read it. He was such an actor. It was almost sinful how easily he could hide his lust and vulgarity.
"So, if I shoved your face into your bed with my hand wrapped around your neck, would you like that? Would you like it if I made you choke and gasp for air?" He hummed.
"Fuck...y-yes..."
"Do you want me to pull your hair and skull fuck you until you're crying on my dick? I bet your gags sound so vulgar and erotic." He asked nonchalantly.
"E-Edward, please..."
He held up the book and slumped into the chair. Edward looked like this was the most boring conversation he had ever had in his life. His eyes lazily ran over the words in the book, y/n was half convinced he was actually reading it while he spoke those filthy words to her.
"I bet you'd like to get slapped too. Not too hard, of course. I wouldn't want to bruise that pretty little face. But, firm enough the make sure you don't step out of line. You seem like you love to be put in your place." He yawned.
"E-Edward, I don't know if I can handle this anymore..."
"That's too bad, you wanted to hear all of this, right? Now you need to sit and listen."
"F-Fuck..."
"You're filthy, rabbit. Letting a criminal and a murderer make your pussy wet."
"I-I know."
"That's good that you know. You're self-aware about how dirty you are. You must want dick terribly bad if you've resorted to someone like me."
"N-No, I l-love you!"
"Hmm, that's right. That doesn't make it any better though, rabbit. In fact, it makes it worse. Not only do you want to get dicked down by me, but you love me. For shame."
"B-But..."
"Oh, don't worry sweetheart. I'm not angry with you. I think it's lovely that you feel that way towards me, I feel the same to you. But, we better make sure no one else knows about this. Hm?"
"Mhm!"
Edward placed the book down, looking at y/n.
"Mmm, I wish I could just fuck the soul out of you. I want to make you writhe and squirm. I just know you'd feel so good around my dick."
She moaned a little louder, biting down on her tongue. Edward chuckled, leaning against the metal ledge again.
"You, rabbit, are going to scream my name." He smiled.
"Th-that's big talk f-from someone in A-Arkham." She stuttered.
Edward raised an eyebrow.
"Are you getting smart with me?"
"N-No...I was j-just..."
"No. I know what you were doing and I'm not amused. You don't think I'll find my way out of here? I will. And when I do, I'm coming for you."
Y/n blushed.
"When I get out of here, I'll be sure to rearrange those pathetic guts of yours. I'm all bark and bite."
"You can't even touch me, Edward. It sounds like a bunch of talk to me..." She huffed, getting annoyed with his cocky behavior.
"You want me to break the glass and fuck you right here? I could care less about being watched but I sincerely doubt you want the guards to see you get fucked stupid by me. Don't play with me." He spat.
"I'm n-not trying to play with you, daddy..." Y/n mumbled softly, looking down at her hands.
"Yes you are. You're mocking me and yet you sit before me, wet, pathetic, and needy. Isn't that right, rabbit?"
She nodded.
"You want me to protect you, hold you, love you, yes?" He smirked.
"Y-Yes..."
"My, my, you have terrible daddy issues, don't you? Hm. But, if you want that so bad, then why are you playing with me? Mocking me? Do you think I appreciate that? Do you think it makes me proud?" He scolded.
"No I don't, daddy." Y/n sniffled.
"Mhm, it was so rude of you to talk to me like that. Do you want to hurt daddy's feelings?" He frowned.
He was such a serpent. Oh, but he was so lovely, too. Y/n couldn't help it. It was as if she bit the apple from the tree of good and evil. Except, the serpent held the apple in his mouth after, taunting her as she begged for more. Edward was waving what she wanted in her face, just out of her reach. And he knew it. He was so sick that it was hypnotic. So dangerous yet so kind looking, a wolf in sheep's clothing. Y/n was getting too close to him, but she didn't care if she got bit.
"N-No! I don't want to!" She whined.
"Then what do we say when we hurt someone's feelings?" He hummed, cupping a hand over his ear.
Y/n swallowed a lump in her throat, practically choking on her desire. She placed her hands on the ledge, bottom lip quivering as she looked at Edward. He felt his heart skip a beat as he saw slight tears prick in her eyes. She looked so pretty when she cried, as demented as that sounded. A single tear trickled down her cheek before she wiped it away with her finger.
"M' sorry, daddy..." Y/n sighed.
"Oh, say it again, rabbit." Edward grinned.
She looked at him, blushing heavily. He raised and eyebrow, giving a sleazy smile. Y/n looked at the floor, feeling slightly humiliated. Why? She truly did not know. Maybe it was the way he was talking to her. He was so good at making her feel small.
"I-I'm sorry, daddy." She mumbled.
"An apology has never sounded so sweet..." He hummed.
Y/n figeted with her hands.
"You're just lucky I'm not able to get closer to you, rabbit. You'd be giving me more than just an apology." Edward stated flatly.
She whined, trying to picture what he was hinting at in her head. But, when she did that, she felt herself getting more turned on. That was the last thing she needed.
"I'd give you something too, but I don't know if you'd be able to handle it..." He laughed softly.
Oh, he was so demented. But, it was so hot to her. Y/n should not be so worked up over a murderer talking pure smut to her. Yet, she was. Her core ached and throbbed, pleading for her fingers, Edward's fingers, his dick, mouth, anything. She needed to be touched so bad. It was driving her crazy. She squeezed her thighs together, doing her best not to rub them together.
"That's it, back to being timid. You know you aren't the one in control here, y/n. I may be in chains in this hellhole, but don't think for one second that it makes me weak. I haven't touched you and yet I have you soaking wet, desperate to pleasure yourself while 2 cameras are pointed at you. I have you whimpering, whining, moaning, and begging for something that I can't even give you. Does that sound like someone with no power over you? No hold over you?"
"No, Edward. I-It doesn't."
"Exactly. And you love it."
She nodded and whined.
"I've got you eating out of the palm of my hand, y/n. Just like a rabbit. I wonder, if I give you a carrot, will you jump for me?" He snickered.
"I'm not a pet!" She spat.
"Then why are you so obedient to me? Why are you so dependent on me?" Edward asked, shrugging his shoulders.
"I-..."
He leaned forward, propping his elbows up. Looking at y/n, he spoke in a low tone.
"Admit it, I own you! My name is practically branded on your chest. If only...no, I don't want to scar that pretty skin of yours. But, maybe, I could just mark you...yes. Would you like that? My teeth digging into your neck? I swear I'll try to be gentle, but I'm afraid you might taste too good to be able to restrain myself...I bet your flesh and blood tastes like sugar..."
Y/n was shocked, completely thrown off by his sadistic words. Yes, she was trembling in fear. It was so disturbing to hear him talk about how he wanted to mark her, break the skin on her neck. But, yet again, y/n found herself drawn to him. It was sick, twisted, and vile. And her pussy throbbed.
"I-, b-but it'll hurt..." She whimpered.
"Well, I said I'd do my best to be gentle. All you have to do is tell me to stop! Though I so badly want to...rip you apart...I would never want to make you upset or uncomfortable, sweet rabbit." He smiled sadistically.
Y/n panted, feeling arousal seep onto her inner thighs. She felt so dirty...
"I already know the second you get home, you're going to play with yourself while thinking about me. Thinking about the things I could do to you. Thinking about how I could just..."
Edward banged his fists subtly on the table, maintaining a consistent rhythm. He kept eye contact the whole time, lips curling up into a sickly smile. He was a cocky little shit. He knew exactly what he was doing to her and he thrived in the actions he did. The sound of his fists banging rang in her ears and made her throb. Edward sped up the pace, watching as y/n's eyes closed, no doubt imagining the feeling and how it would look. Abruptly, he stopped, practically edging her in a way.
"...destroy you. Break you. Please you. Torture you." He smirked.
"E-Edward, you're a dick! You're tormenting me!" She cried softly.
"Yes I am, took you fucking long enough. I thought you were smart?" He mocked.
She shuddered, his cold gaze freezing her blood.
"It's a game to me, y/n. Yes, I love you, but I love making you crave me too. And you make it so easy..."
A knock on the glass startled y/n, making her turn around. It was most likely Bruce telling her that the visit was going on too long. She sighed, looking back to Edward. Y/n was upset, not wanting to leave, despite how torturous he was being to her. He too looked upset, his plaything was about to leave. His plaything. His. He'd have to make the last minute count. He lured the prey into security, and it was genuine security. But now, it was time for the mind games. It was time for him to strike fear and paranoia into her heart. He wanted to be in her mind for a long time to come.
"You said you loved how I intimidated and scared you in your dream, yes?" He asked.
"Yeah?"
"You'll never know when I get out of Arkham. Not until it hits the newspapers."
Y/n looked at him, unsure of what he was getting at.
"I wonder how long you'll be paranoid? How many times will you watch a dark corner, wondering if I'll walk out of it? How many times will you sleep with one eye open? How many times will you watch behind your back as you walk down the streets? I am still a criminal, after all." He smirked devilishly.
Y/n's eyes widened, feeling her skin turn to ice. It was then that she realized he truly was sick. But, why did she still love him? Oh, how conflicting a forbidden love must be. To want someone that should not be wanted. To seek approval from someone one should never seek approval from. His pupils looked dilated, staring deep into her soul. She felt exposed and violated just from his gaze. And she loved it...
"Lord, what fools these mortals be!" He shouted.
She shivered, standing up slowly from the chair. Edward picked up the book again, flipping to a certain page. He had memorized the entire book, as he had already read his own copy he bought at the bookstore. But, being Edward, he wanted to be theatric as he read quotes. He looked at y/n in the eyes, standing up abruptly, no doubt startling the guard, Bruce, and y/n herself. He placed his hands against the glass, a breathy laugh leaving his lips.
"I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell..." He trailed.
Her pussy throbbed once again, thinking back to when they were in the bookstore. She had told Edward that she would never accept anyone's love unless they confessed or expressed it through Shakespeare. And, he was doing exactly that, Although, he was doing it in Edward fashion. Ominous, eerie, and disturbing.
"...to die upon the hand I love so well." She finished.
The door opened up and Bruce came in, grabbing y/n by the hand. Edward laughed hysterically, pacing back and forth behind the glass. His eyes were crazed behind his glasses as he kept his gaze on y/n the entire time. Y/n could tell that he was being dramatic, just wanting to get a rise out of everyone.
"Thus I die. Thus, thus, thus. Now I am dead, now I am fled, my soul is in the sky. Tongue, lose thy light. Moon take thy flight..." He paused, slowly walking back to the glass.
"...Now die, die, die, die!" He cackled.
He watched as Bruce dragged y/n out of the room. She looked back at him, still worked up from their 'discussion'. Edward blew a kiss to her, further making the scene more demented. Y/n attempted to reach up and grab it, but wanted to be discreet, so instead she smiled at him. It was odd though, as she was still terrified of his tangent that he went on. The sight of him laughing and quoting Shakespeare was not something she thought she would ever be scared of, but it was. But before she left, she heard him say one last thing. It sent chills down her spine.
"Run rabbit, run! For I linger in the shadows and you will never know when I might pounce..."
~
#writers#fanfic writer#writers of tumblr#fanfic#the riddler#paul dano#dc universe#edward nashton#paul dano riddler#danonation#dano riddler#batman 2022#danocel#danonator
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
a cage she'd live in forever
ignore me just randomly re-posting stuff into the vacuum i guess (i'll probably repost my rhaenicent fic next)
Aemond’s stoic manner doesn’t last.
Alicent took one look at her son during the confrontation with Rhaenyra, and understood he was pretending to be a man. He was forcing himself to grow up faster in the face of a cold, callous court, just as she once had. It broke her heart.
Now he’s back in King’s Landing, in the safety of his own chambers, and his voice cracks when he asks his mother to help apply salve to his eye. He doesn’t like the servants touching it.
Each crack in Aemond’s young voice drives her further into madness.
Madness to Alicent was never a legible concept.
It’s tucked away into the neat folds of her green sleeves, a problem for later.
She’s no Targaryen. There is no fire and blood to reckon with here.
And yet she sees her child suffer and she wants to burn down this cursed castle with herself in it.
You let this happen to him. You should have been more vigilant. You knew how obsessed he was with those beasts. YOU DID THIS.
Viserys plays no part in her judgements. The old man gave his seed and withered into the peripheral. These are her children. Alicent has the right to be possessive over them at least. Nothing else in her life has ever truly been hers.
Her title of ‘queen’ belonged to a woman more well-loved by her husband. Her name of ‘Hightower’ belongs to the men in her family. Her regal status could be snatched at any moment should the king die.
But her children she bore and birthed, they are hers.
Even so, they still ask for their father. They haven’t yet learned.
“Why does he like them more than he likes us?” Aegon mumbled to her when she can get a sober word out of him. “I thought he wanted us. I thought he wanted me.”
In a rare moment of affection – slapping Aegon was the worst thing she could have done in that room, she sees that now – she stroked the back of his silver head and made a soft, comforting sound.
“He does want you. He always wanted you.” She lies to her children with ease, just like she lies to everyone else.
When Aegon was born, no matter how it traumatised her to give birth so young, she had celebrated, thinking life would be better now that she was the queen who had managed to birth a male heir for the king.
It changed nothing.
Helaena was born and her depression grew worse.
She tries to forget what she’d done days after the birth, as if it were nothing more than a horrible nightmare. But she can’t forget the screams of her ladies-in-waiting, how they’d dragged her off the ledge. Helaena had been in her arms, shrieking miserably.
Alicent had begged her and begged her to stop crying, that she could do no more for her, that they were both helpless.
At some point, the crying faded into nothing, and the next thing she knew, she was standing on the window ledge, staring down at Maegor’s Holdfast, with her baby girl clutched to her chest.
There’s no doubt in her mind now that she would have jumped if they hadn’t found her.
She was dragged back to her cage, and her father came to rebuke her for her ungratefulness. She didn’t know how to tell him what was wrong. She didn’t know when everything went so perfectly wrong.
Aemond was born when she was happiest. She had grown a little older, become more well-adjusted. And a second son was further proof of her fertility, as well as another pillar to hold up both House Targaryen and Hightower. He was a beautiful baby, wide-eyed and gurgling. He was the happiest baby she’d ever had.
The happiness wears away the older he grows, but sometimes, when she cups his chin in her palm and makes a kissy sound, he beams, and she sees the precious infant again.
He isn’t smiling now. His shoulders are hunched, and he won’t look up, not even when she speaks to him.
Helaena sits on the corner of his bed, glancing up from time to time as she mumbles under her breath.
Alicent looks at her and doesn’t understand her, but there’s something about the girl no one can help but love. And Alicent does, painfully. The guilt of that window ledge will never leave her.
Helaena worries more than she lets on and will often wander into a room and sit in the corner like a watchful ghost when someone in her family is hurting. Alicent can’t count the nights she’s cried into her hands only to look up and see Helaena’s large eyes peering at her from the shadows. It never fails to make her laugh through the tears.
“Is Vhagar fed?” She coaxes Aemond on his favourite subject. She has no love for the dragon, but she uses her to get her son to speak.
He grunts, fiddling with his fingers. She wonders what confusion is now curdling in his young head. All her children are sad in their own ways, as sad as their mother, and she doesn’t know what to do. Leave well enough alone, Otto tells her, and Alicent can’t help thinking he might be right. He did the same with her after all.
“You were brave, Aemond. Your nephews would never have held their own the way you did.” Alicent wipes her fingers clean of salve and lifts his face up. He stares at her with his one, pale violet eye and she feels a burst of rage upon seeing the wound. It’s so strong it makes her nauseous.
“Even our uncle noticed,” Helaena hums. She looks up when she realises her mother and brother are staring at her. Then, she shrugs, stroking the dead centipede in her hand. It died this morning on her pillow. “I think he liked your bravery. But he would never say it.”
Daemon’s baleful, amused eyes flash across Alicent’s vision and she recalls her childhood infatuation with him. She grew out of it and happily so. It does not surprise her that Daemon would look at his brother’s children and see himself in them. He’s always boasted of himself as stronger than Viserys. It would entertain him to see a boy so like himself come from a woman he deems strait-laced and dull and a brother he considers weak.
“Our uncle,” Aemond scoffs. “He slept with her.”
“With whom?” Alicent’s head snaps around.
“Our father’s only child,” he spits out, venom in the words.
Rhaenyra.
“How do you know this?” Her eyes are wide and terrified, picturing a scenario where Aemond bursts out with this information at the wrong moment and gets punished.
“I was waiting to slip out and go to the beach, but I couldn’t find a good time. I saw them leave together. I know what they went to do. I’m not a child, mother.”
“Aemond, you must never speak of this again.”
“Why not?” He gets to his feet, all Targaryen rage and impulsivity. “Why must we always keep our mouths shut while she gets to do whatever she wants?”
Alicent breathes in, willing herself to stay calm.
Taking both his hands in hers, she kisses them and holds them against her cheek, reminding herself that all her children are still here. Daeron is safe in Oldtown. Her eldest three are here with her. They’re not gone yet. Daemon can’t do a thing to them. Daemon, not Rhaenyra, because even she knows her childhood friend would not willingly cut the throats of her own siblings.
“There will come a time when we will no longer live in fear of what Rhaenyra and her brood do or say to us,” she tells him. “But it is not that time yet.”
“Do you mean when father dies?” Helaena pipes up.
Alicent hushes her. “Don’t say such things out loud.” Her eyes dart to the door. Larys has spies everywhere, and though he might act innocuous with his crooked smile and haunted eyes, she knows him too well to think he’s loyal to her. He’s loyal to himself alone, as proven by the deaths of his kin. “But I assure you, Aemond, your patience will be rewarded, not just with a dragon, but by the respect of the entire realm. You are my warrior, my boy, my prince. Nothing will ever change that. Understand?”
Aemond grinds his teeth – it’s a habit she’s trying to help him out of – but he nods, slow at first, but then, with a greater degree of certainty. He believes her.
She glances at Helaena, a wordless signal that they should leave Aemond alone for a while.
At the door, she turns to look at him one last time, and smiles.
He brings peace to her heart, not because she loves him more than the other children, but because she knows he sees outside of himself, just like she was trained to. He will protect his siblings if Alicent is no longer there to do so.
Aemond is her favourite because he is exactly what she pictured when she imagined what it would be like to have a son.
Now they see you as you are.
Alicent wakes in a cold sweat, Rhaenyra’s vicious violet eyes burned into the backs of her eyelids. Her dreams are cruel to her. One moment Nyra’s head is in her lap, her young face alight with pleasure at the thought of flying away with Alicent and finding places no one else will ever reach. And then there’s a knife in her hand and Rhaenyra is bleeding out all over her green dress.
She can never control her dreams. Either she hurts Rhaenyra by the end, or Rhaenyra rips off her mask and shows her what she is.
A frightened young girl turned into a cold, enraged woman.
Her brother Gwayne used to reassure her she would be an excellent wife and mother to some very lucky minor lord. They were children of a second son, it was the most they could expect, even if their father was the Hand. And Alicent had revelled in the imagery. Gwayne was always kind to her, loving her the way younger brothers do, without question and without strife.
She never felt worthy of his simple love. She never believed she would be as good a woman as he believed she would. But often, on nights she can’t sleep, she thinks of all Gwayne told her and measures herself against it.
If she measures herself against what Rhaenyra promised she would grow to become, she’ll cry herself to death.
You are the sweetest person I’ve ever known. Everyone in this court looks at me and they see a princess, not a prince. They see what I am not, what I should have been. But you look at me and I feel strong, as if even I could bear the weight of my father’s crown. Do you know the worth of such a quality, Alice? You give strength to those who feel forsaken.
That last sentence was what echoed in Alicent’s mind the night she rushed out of the Great Hall, away from Rhaenyra’s bloodstained wedding, to find Criston Cole kneeling in the godswood, with a knife angled towards himself.
She wonders what Rhaenyra would feel knowing she herself is the reason Criston still lives.
A shadow stirs under her door and she hears the familiar clink of armour.
The guards change at midnight, and he comes to stand by her door, ever unable to sleep when the night is darkest. Alicent has memorised the sound.
Some nights, she can’t sleep until she hears the clink. Her heart doesn’t settle in the right place until Criston moves in front of her rooms, as if he’ll protect her from the hurricane waiting outside.
But no matter how she tries, tonight, sleep evades her.
She gets up and summons one of her maidservants, asking for a cup of mulled wine.
When the door opens, Criston moves an inch to the left, as if expecting trouble. Their eyes lock.
Alicent clutches her robe tighter around herself, suddenly aware of how little she’s wearing in comparison to her daytime garb. Her hair is loose from its coif, and falls in unruly curls down her back, large eyes betraying an age that is still not old enough for the troubles she bears.
“Ser Criston,” she calls, before he can close the door.
He walks into the doorway. “My Queen.”
She inclines her head to indicate he enter. He does so without a flicker in his expression, ever prepared to serve.
“Are you well, my Queen?”
Her palms are sweaty. She’s never been more aware of anything in her life. Whether it’s his presence or the lingering aftermath of her dream, she does not know.
“I could not sleep.”
His brown eyes peer at her through his lashes. They’re so large, they appear wholly sincere, but she’s seen them turn cruel at the mention of Rhaenyra. Never has a man confused her as much as Criston Cole.
Daemon, enigma as he seeks to appear, is fairly predictable within his impulsivity. If one wants trouble, look to the Targaryen prince with not a chip, but a giant oak tree on his shoulder. He’s always certain trouble.
But Criston can pass for serene and dutiful and be something totally different underneath.
Yet with her, Alicent believes he is at her service. She just often has doubts as to the precise reasons why. It can’t all be because she saved him from killing himself.
“The maid – “ he begins.
“Yes, she’s gone to fetch me a jug of mulled wine. I was hoping you would partake of it with me, Ser Criston.”
He bows his head in agreement.
Alicent’s mouth twitches in a sad smile.
He never suspects she may have ulterior motives.
Even to a man as guarded as this, she is laced so tightly, he would never suspect otherwise.
She’s never wanted to be like Rhaenyra – at least not to be in her situation – but now she does. To be able to say something charming, quick-witted, and break the ice, it would be a relief.
The maid returns with the wine and Alicent pours for the knight, setting the cup beside him.
“I appreciate how much you do for my children, Ser Criston.” She gestures for him to sit, and when he does, carefully seats herself beside him.
He keeps his eyes on the ground when he nods. “It is my duty, Your Grace. I will always work in the favour of the princes and the princess.”
“You go above and beyond.”
Now he looks at her and she sees a spark of surprise. “Have I overstepped, Your Grace?”
Alicent’s face softens, and she reaches to rest her hand on his gauntlet. “No. No, you have not. I am commending you, Criston. Not everything is a question of your ability. I will never doubt that.”
She hears him breathe out, but he still appears discomfited. She takes a sip from her own cup, hoping to encourage him to drink from his. A few seconds pass, and he mirrors her action. They smile at each other. Hers is wider, and his is small, but grows the longer he lets himself gaze into her eyes.
“May I ask what troubles you, my Queen?”
He knows. He must.
He was there in the room after the fight between Rhaenyra and Alicent was broken up. He’d watched her cry with Aemond’s bloodied face tucked against her neck. He was the one who had guided them both out, away from the court’s judgemental eyes, somewhere safe to grieve alone.
“I dreamt of Rhaenyra. Of our younger days.”
He keeps his face carefully smooth. “I remember that you were good friends. She always spoke highly of you.”
At least he’s not calling her a spoiled cunt anymore.
“She spoke well of you too,” Alicent admits. “Though I never saw when it was that she grew a particular affection for you. I was adept at reading those signs in her. With Daemon it was youthful infatuation. I was guilty of it too for a while. But you, I had no idea.”
A muscle in his jaw pulses. He’s staring into the cup of wine as if it will tell him what to say next, or what to do.
Alicent waits.
“I don’t think she held an affection for me the way I did for her,” he says at length. “I misread her cues. Had I known, I would never have offered what I did on our way to Driftmark. And she’d never had had the chance to prove just how little I meant in her world.”
“Did you – “ Alicent pauses, clears her throat, as if this isn’t something she should ask. Criston glances at her, expectant. “Did you like her a lot?”
His mouth tugs upwards with a tinge of bitterness. “It was my first time at court, away from war. And I was in the service of a princess. I’d heard one too many ballads, and she had a sweet smile. I saw everyone underestimate her. I saw her father harangue her to accept marriage proposals she didn’t want. It tangled up my views on love and duty, and my protectiveness grew into something more. It was youth’s folly on my part. It wasn’t until later that I learned she came to me after her uncle left her stranded in a brothel down in the city.”
Alicent nods, a knot stuck in her throat. She still remembers the pain in her stomach when her father first told her of the news, and that he was being banished from court for it. She remembers the way Rhaenyra’s voice trembled when she dubbed it a “vile accusation.” And yet it was never far from the truth.
Now Alicent understood exactly why Rhaenyra went to Ser Criston afterwards.
She knows this man has failed to forgive Rhaenyra’s youthful indiscretions, just as much as he refuses to forgive his own, but she feels pity for him regardless.
There’s no sense of betrayal towards the princess. Rhaenyra stopped feeling pity for Alicent the moment she was coerced into becoming her new stepmother. Alicent has ceased feeling that stab of guilt whenever she spoke against the princess in her absence. Life goes on.
“Everyone commits folly in their youth. It is of no consequence.” She says the words but doesn’t truly feel them. Her own youth was wasted in biting her cuticles till they bled and praying she did no wrong in her father’s eyes. Hardly a youth at all.
“Not you, my Queen.”
Alicent almost flinches in surprise. Criston has a look of amusement on his face. It takes her a moment to process, and then she laughs, uncertain. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t believe you’ve ever committed a folly as a child.”
“I have. Plenty of them. My father was always admonishing me for them.”
“What your father deems follies, aren’t really follies. He watches Aegon with the same focus he once used on you.” Criston’s implication is clear.
Just like Aegon, Alicent was once a pawn to move around as Otto saw fit. It doesn’t feel right to allow a member of the Kingsguard to absolve her of her perceived sins, but she leans into the feeling, letting it envelop her in comfort.
“I regret one thing in regard to you,” she mutters, looking away before the heat of the wine reaches her cheeks.
“What’s that?”
“The way I referred to you when you took of your helmet during your first tourney here.”
“’Gods, he’s Dornish’?”
Alicent’s eyes widen. Criston’s voice ripples with laughter. “Rhaenyra told me. I found it amusing.”
“I did not mean it to denigrate you,” Alicent says quickly. “I swear. I just meant – I hadn’t seen many Dornish folk growing up, and I wasn’t expecting – “
“It’s alright, Your Grace,” Criston cuts her off, eyes crinkled at the corners.
He looks young again, the way she remembers.
Alicent heaves a sigh, and then laughs, embarrassed.
They both drift into a comfortable silence, each glancing up while the other isn’t looking. It happens three times before their gazes finally meet and then suddenly, neither can look away.
She tries, but the urge to drown in the dark chasm of his eyes is more enticing than anything her husband has ever said or done to her.
Criston looks away first, but it’s to reach under his gauntlet. “I brought something. I thought the young prince might like it. Losing an eye at such an age is a great blow. I know he wishes to become a better warrior, and I fear it may create problems.”
Alicent’s face falls at the mention of Aemond’s injury. “Yes, well, there’s nothing to be done. His eye is gone.” Her voice cracks, just like her son’s had.
Criston stops fiddling with the gauntlet and stares at her. It’s as if he wants to reach across and comfort her with something more tangible than words.
But instead, he removes what he was looking for and holds it out.
It’s a leather eyepatch.
“I had it made. It’s well-padded and it will fit the circumference of his head. I know he is self-conscious about the scar, but once the wound heals, he can cover most of it.”
Alicent doesn’t speak. Her eyes glimmer with an emotion she can’t put a name to and her fingers tremble as they take the patch from Criston’s palm. Her bottom lip quivers, and she sniffs, trying not to give into the weight of grief upon her chest.
“Your Grace,” Criston murmurs, troubled at her reaction.
“Don’t – “ she seals her lips, and squeezes her eyes shut, letting the tears fall free. “Don’t call me that. Call me Alicent for once. I hear the name my mother gave me so little these days.”
He swallows, something unreadable flickering across his face. “Alicent.”
She inhales, a shivering breath, and clutches the eyepatch to her chest. “He’s going to look like a Braavosi ruffian,” she laughs, but it sounds more like a sob. “It would be highly improper.”
Criston shrugs and grins. “The boy deserves to go around however he wants after the trouble he’s had, no?”
She can already picture the scowl on her father’s face when he sees the patch.
It’s what convinces her to set aside her qualms.
Aemond will adore it. He has a knack for going straight for the thing he’s not supposed to, and just as with Vhagar, he’ll continue to make those decisions well into the future. At least Alicent can give him her blessing on this one.
“Thank you,” she says, and her voice barely breaks above a whisper. “You are good to me. To us.”
They smile at each other, and a picture of utter serenity invades her mind’s eye.
In it, her children don’t have silver hair, but red locks like her own, and deep, beautiful brown eyes like his. Their home is small, but happy, and each night when he returns, all four of them run to him, trying to tell him about their day at the same time. Alicent lingers in the back, waiting for her turn, knowing it will always come.
“Your Grace?”
The formal address shatters her vision like an arrow through glass.
She blinks, bringing herself to reality, to the quiet, dark room, so spacious and luxurious.
And him.
He’s closer now, and his hand is halfway up, as if he’s unsure whether he’s allowed to touch her.
Alicent takes it without thinking and kisses the back before pressing it to her cheek.
He doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t say a word. His fingers tighten around hers and his armour shifts as he leans in.
Alicent doesn’t lift her head. She’s afraid of what she might see in the reflection of his eyes. She’s afraid she’ll see herself, yearning, something she’s long forced herself never to do.
“Alicent.”
“I won’t,” she whispers. “I won’t make you break your oath a second time. I’m not like her. I’m not her.”
“I know. I know.” He sets his other hand beneath hers, supporting it. “You’re not Rhaenyra. You are yourself. And I chose to serve you for that, not because I owe you my life and my dignity.”
“Rhaenyra made her choices out of youthful folly, and I am a grown woman. This is wrong.” She lets go of his hand, but he tightens his grip before she can take hers back. It’s not an aggressive hold, but it’s enough to keep her reined in close to him.
“I would never encourage you to do anything you did not want to, my Queen,” he says, and she now sees what Rhaenyra saw in him.
That wide-eyed devotion, the darkness stirring just underneath, as if he would do anything Alicent asked, no matter how cruel.
How could anyone say no to such intensity? Except Rhaenyra used him as a replacement, and Alicent has nothing to replace. She is a grown woman, but in this aspect, her experience is lacklustre.
“I don’t know what I want,” she chokes out, biting her lip to keep it from trembling.
“That’s not quite true, is it?” he says kindly.
She shakes her head. “I want a great many things, most of them to do with my children. But for myself, I don’t know what I want. Perhaps I want to sleep. Or to be at peace. Or maybe I want never to worry about another thing as long as I live.”
Her voice breaks as she remembers Aemond wiping his tears with haste so she won’t see them, and Aegon turning away to hide how her words trouble him, and Helaena – sweet Helaena – hoping her mother will understand what she means without having to try and explain it all the time.
And then she looks up at Criston and he is looking at her, only her.
Not Alicent the queen, nor Alicent the mother, nor Alicent the daughter.
Just Alicent.
She leans in for the space of a long sigh, and kisses his lips, seeking a taste of what it is that makes him see her that way.
Criston doesn’t let her pull back. His hand is behind her head – gentle, as if she were made of crystal – and his lips move like warm silk, pressed over her mouth. He kisses each corner, and then the bow of her upper lip, his breath soaked into hers. The scent of mulled wine is strong, but underneath, she tastes something sweeter. She wonders if she’s imagining it.
He manoeuvres her with an ease that steals her breath away.
One moment she’s on the seat, the next she’s half on his lap and his arm is braced around her slender waist.
She’s never been kissed like this before, like the centre of the universe is hidden between her lips and he means to steal it.
“Criston – “
His name is muffled in the wet slide of his tongue over hers, and she isn’t sure what she means to say next. He doesn’t give her the chance to think about it. His hand braces against the side of her neck, pulling her closer, until she’s caged.
This is a cage I would live in forever.
It takes the will of the gods to end the kiss.
The second she does, his mouth grasps at her chin, her cheek, her jaw, her throat, reaching for anything she’ll give him. And for a few heartbeats, she lets him have it all. She pretends her body is his to do with as he pleases, and that no one will ever come through that door to break them up.
She pretends she is his, and he is hers.
And then her body strains back, breaking the restraint of his arm.
Criston releases her immediately, breath coming short, eyes glittering with arousal.
Her own face is no better. Soft steps retreat, taking her back until she finds the bedpost. It’s the only thing keeping her knees from giving out.
Criston stands, and she’s suddenly aware of how much larger he is. It doesn’t help the heat spreading across her body, or the heartbeat pulsing in her throat. Her cheeks are still wet with tears.
“We can’t,” is all she manages to breathe out.
He nods, a sincere gesture. He understands.
Alicent thinks then that she might die to be understood like this always, that she’d die for him.
His white cloak whispers across the floor when he approaches.
A coarse hand rests ever so soft against the petal-skin of her cheek. It brushes down towards her chin, tilting it up. He studies her face as if she were a finely woven tapestry, each thread made of precious gold and silver.
“Your tears are as beautiful as the rest of you,” he murmurs. “But would that I could, I’d banish them from your eyes forever.”
Alicent trembles, trying not to let out the sob building up in her chest.
He presses a kiss to her forehead, chaste, and his hand drops away her face.
He leaves and behind him, lingers a poignant scent she’s only ever breathed in the godswood.
It’s holy.
“What’s this?”
Aemond looks confused at the velvet pouch she dangles before him.
Aegon is sitting on a nearby chair, sober for once, and Helaena is curled up by the fireplace, making swirling patterns with the corpses of dead bugs. Aegon keeps cringing and telling her not to bring them too close to his feet. She threatens to throw one in his open mouth when he’s asleep.
Their bickering continues in the background as Alicent pulls Aemond close. “Open it.”
He does, and removes the patch with a blithely confused face. “What is it?”
“It’s a patch for your eye, you dolt,” Aegon calls.
“Aegon, don’t be mean to your brother.”
“Why not? He told father I knew about the bastards. I got barked at.”
“I was protecting mother,” Aemond snaps.
“Yes,” Alicent says quickly, before it can get out of hand. “And I know you were as well, Aegon. Thank you.”
Aegon opens his mouth to say something, frowns, and then grunts. Alicent gaze lingers on him for a moment, feeling that familiar sadness, but then she’s distracted by Aemond putting on the patch. He laughs in delight as he darts towards the mirror.
“I look like a Braavosi sea lord!” he exclaims.
“This is what he’s giggling over!” Aegon laughs. “No more ‘I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon?’ Pretentious twat.”
Helaena chooses that precise moment to throw a dead bug at Aegon’s head, and the room erupts into chaos.
Alicent’s first instinct is to shout and stop them, order them to behave like the royalty they are.
But then she notices the maidservants giggling, and she lets it carry on. Helaena, emboldened by her initial attack, chases her older brother with a whole tray of bugs, and Aemond stands at the centre of it all, doing his best impression of a Braavosi water dancer.
Alicent smiles so wide her face hurts.
They look like children.
It won’t last, but they look like children again.
#alicent hightower#criston cole#alicent x criston#alicole#ser criston cole#queen alicent#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#helaena targaryen#aegon ii targaryen#daeron targaryen#viserys targaryen#rhaenyra targaryen#scalyfreakswrites
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
Regina Mills x Fem!Reader
A/N: Hey bitchessss here's chapter 3!@#$%^ Don't expect a full come-back. I'm just high asf rn and wanted to write this small chapter for you pookies<33
Chapter 3: I’m a Troubled Teen (Going Up North to be a Lady-In-Waiting)
Many years ago
The Enchanted Forest
“Your highness, the King and Queen request your presence.”
Oh, God.
It was never good when your parents “requested your presence”. Most of the time it meant you had done something wrong. The last time this had happened, you had jumped off the side of a royal navy ship in your underclothes and satin slippers.
You shut your book and set it down on the side table in the library, standing up and dragging your feet as you followed one of the advisors. When you approached the door to the “good parlor”, as your mother called it, he knocked three times. You thanked him and after he shut the door a tense air thickened around you.
Your brother, Eric, sat at a chess table with your father while your mother sat by herself in the loveseat practicing her embroidery.
“What?” you said.
Your mother smiled. “We just wanted to know where you were.”
You looked around awkwardly. “I was in the library…Why did you ask for me?”
“We wanted to spend time with you,” your father said. “It feels like we haven’t seen you in ages!”
“What’s the real reason you asked me here?” you asked.
Still partaking in her embroidery, your mother smiled and looked up at you from the sofa. “We have some news…You remember King Leopold, right?”
“Sort of.”
“Well,” your mother said, continuing, “his wife, Queen Regina, is looking for a new lady-in-waiting…and they’ve asked for you.”
Your stomach sank. “What?”
“It’ll give you a chance to observe how a kingdom runs,” your father said. “And, it forms an alliance between King Leopold and our kingdom.”
“But–But, Eric is next in line!” you protested. “Shouldn’t he be doing the observing? He’s going to be ruling this kingdom within the next few decades, but instead he’s out on a ship sailing a–”
“Enough!” your father shouted. “This decision is final! The ship sets sail in a fortnight. Queen Regina, King Leopold, and Princess Snow are already expecting your arrival. I won’t hear any more protests from you. It’s time you learn some responsibility and this is the best way to do it.”
__________
Present Day
Storybrooke
You knocked softly on the door to Regina’s home. Waiting a moment, you glanced over to see a sliver of her finger parting the fabric curtain in the front window, just in time to see it quickly close again.
The deadbolt in the door clicked and the door cracked open slowly.
“Hi,” you said quietly.
Regina seemed stand-offish. When the door opened further, you could see it in her eyes that she had been crying.
“Can I come in?” you asked.
She nodded and let you in. You had only been in her home a handful of times–mostly dropping off Henry after school–but it was still as beautiful as you remembered. Instead of admiring the dark hardwoods and the tall ceilings, you focused on her–and now you were admiring much more.
There were still tears in her eyes and wrinkles sat scattered over her navy pantsuit. Everything was becoming so clear in this short amount of time–every dream, every vision, the vague images of your parents in your head. A part of you wanted to yell at her. She took so much from you, but, god, it was hard to be mad at her.
“Um, Regina,” you murmured when she closed the door. “I just wanted to say–”
And there was that feeling–her lips. They encased yours so perfectly. You could feel her strong hands grasp your biceps as you leaned into the kiss. You took a few steps back, bracing yourself against the wall when Regina pulled away. “What?” she huffed. “You wanted to say what?”
You searched her eyes. “Nothing, it can wait for later,” you said, grasping at her shoulders as your lips met again for the first time in 28 years.
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
“You never loved Mom like I did.”
In the aftermath of a heated argument with his sister, Sokka confronts his own reflection, haunted by the blurred image of his mother and the weight of his grief.
Under the cover of the night, Sokka sat alone on the sandy shore, his back against a weathered driftwood log. The gentle lapping of the waves against the shore provided a soothing backdrop to his thoughts, as he gazed out at the vast expanse of the sea. Above, the moon hung high in the sky, casting its ethereal glow over the landscape. Its silver light danced upon the surface of the water, creating a mesmerizing tapestry of ripples and reflections. In the distance, the twinkling stars dotted the heavens, their distant light offering a glimmer of hope in the darkness. But despite the beauty of the night, Sokka's gaze was heavy. His eyes were drawn to the horizon, where the sea met the sky. The salty sea air filled his lungs, mingling with the taste of salt on lips.
His thoughts turned inevitably to his mother. He remembered her warm smile, the gentle touch of her hand on his cheek, the sound of her laughter that always seemed to chase away the shadows. But as much as he tried, the details of her face remained frustratingly elusive, blurred by the passage of time. Yet, there was also a glimmer of hope, a belief that somewhere out there, she was watching over him. His gaze fixed on the distant horizon, longing for the embrace of a mother’s love once more. As the night deepened, his thoughts grew heavier, weighed down by the burden of grief that he carried with him every day. He thought about all the moments he had missed, all the words left unsaid, all the hugs never given. He recalled the scent of her hair as she tucked him into bed at night. He remembered the sound of her voice, soft and soothing, as she sang him lullabies to chase away fears. He remembered the ache in his heart as he watched other children with their mothers.
"Mom, look what I made!" Sokka exclaimed, his breath forming puffs of white in the chilly air.
He remembered the winter morning, the air crisp and cold, as he carefully sculpted a tiny snowman in the backyard. With small, nimble fingers, he fashioned each delicate feature, pouring all his love and affection into the creation.
His mother turned from her task, a smile spreading across her face as she saw the small snowman cradled in his hands. "Oh, Sokka, it's beautiful! You've done such a wonderful job."
"I wanted to make something special for you," Sokka said, his cheeks flushed with pride.
"It's perfect," his mother replied, wrapping him in a warm hug. "Thank you, Sokka. This is the best gift I could ever ask for."
Sokka beamed up at her, his heart swelling with happiness. "I love you, Mom."
"I love you too, Sokka," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
With a heavy heart and tear-stained cheeks, Sokka closed his eyes.
He pictured his mother standing beside him, her gentle smile lighting up her face as she admired the tiny snowman he had crafted. He could almost feel the warmth of her presence, her hand resting on his shoulder as they admired the snowman together. For a fleeting instant, Sokka allowed himself to believe that she was truly there with him, that the bond they shared transcended the boundaries of time and space. In that precious moment, he felt a sense of connection to her that he had thought lost forever, a reminder that her love would always be a guiding light in his darkest moments.
“Sokka…” her voice, soft and familiar, pulled him back to reality. But before he could fully return to the present, another voice cut through the silence.
“Sokka!”
The sound of his sister’s voice jolted him back to the present moment, the echo of his mother’s voice fading into the background. With a heavy heart, Sokka opened his eyes, blinking away the remnants of his imagined world. As he turned to face his sister, he found her standing nearby.
“Are you okay?” Katara asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.
He offered a small, reassuring smile, though the ache in his heart remained. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
As he rose to his feet, he cast one last glance at the spot where his mother had stood in imagination, a silent acknowledgment of the love and warmth she had left behind.
———
The air was heavy with the scent of sweat and smoke, and the distant echoes of combat still lingered in his ears. He leaned back against a fallen tree trunk, feeling the rough bark press against his back, grounding him in the reality of the moment. Hakoda approached, his steps steady but his gaze heavy with the weight of their recent conflict.
“You fought bravely out there, Sokka,” Hakoda remarked, his voice a mixture of pride and concern. Sokka nodded in acknowledgment, but his mind was elsewhere.
As Hakoda settled beside him, he stole a glance at his father’s weathered face, seeing traces of exhaustion in his eyes. The sight brought a pang of guilt to Sokka’s heart; he had longed for his father’s approval, yet now that he had it, it felt hollow.
Hakoda’s eyes rested on his son, tracing the lines of his face with pride. “Sokka,” he began, “there’s something about you…”
Sokka turned to his father, his brow furrowing in curiosity. He had heard those words before. “What is it, Dad?” he asked, his voice betraying a hint of uncertainty.
Hakoda hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on Sokka’s features as if searching for answers in the familiar contours of his face. “You look so much like your mother,” he finally said, his voice soft yet heavy with emotion. Sokka forced a tight-lipped smile, nodding in response, but inside, he felt as though the ground had shifted beneath him, and breath caught in his throat.
Sokka turned away from his father’s gaze, the reflection of his mother staring back at him from within.
———
Every glance into a mirror felt like a punch to the gut. Every time Sokka caught his reflection in a mirror or a polished surface, he couldn’t help but flinch. The sight of the blurred features staring back at him was like a dagger to his heart. It was as if the reflection mocked him, taunting him with its lack of clarity, its refusal to reveal his mother’s face, her warm smile, her gentle eyes.
Avoiding mirrors became a daily ritual for Sokka, a way to shield himself from the pain. He would avert his gaze whenever he passed by one, pretending not to notice the distorted image. It was easier to turn away, to ignore the reflection that held so much sorrow and grief.
———
A heated argument with Katara had left him reeling, her words cutting deeper than any sword ever could.
“You never loved Mom like I did.”
Sokka stood before the mirror, his reflection staring back at him with haunting familiarity. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the blurred features.
He felt a wave of despair wash over him, threatening to drown him in its depths. His breath came in ragged gasps as tears welled in eyes, blurring vision even further. He reached out a trembling hand, fingers brushing against the cool surface of the mirror, but the image remained unchanged.
"I miss you," he whispered hoarsely, voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart. "I miss you so much."
But the figure in the mirror remained silent, her blurred face offering no solace, no comfort. Sokka's chest tightened with a pain so intense it was almost physical, squeezing the air from lungs and leaving him gasping for breath.
In that moment, the lines between reality and illusion blurred, and Sokka found himself trapped in a waking nightmare. His mother's presence loomed beside him, her voice a whisper in the darkness, but it was distorted, mixing with his own thoughts twisted with grief.
He reached out, desperate to touch her, to feel the warmth of her embrace, but his hands grasped only empty air. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he watched the blurred figure of his mother waver and fade, leaving him alone once more in the cold embrace of the mirror's reflection.
#sokka#atla sokka#sokka avatar the last airbender#avatar sokka#atla#avatar the last airbender#angst#my baby#im crying#katara#atla zuko#zuko#aang
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Getting Hannibal Drunk
Y/N and Will thought it would be a great idea to get their boyfriend drunk.
Well Y/N did.
“Will, please?” Y/N begged. He shook his head, “What if he tells us all his secrets and we become accomplices?” “Will, you’ve literally killed people.”
It took a whole week for Will to agree that it was a good idea.
“So Han, we were thinking that it would be a good idea to get drunk tonight and have fun.” He looked at his two partners suspiciously. “What?” “You wanna get me drunk so I'll tell you everything.” “No, that's what we’re afraid of.” Will says.
Hannibal was easy to get drunk once you gave him anything else besides Wine and Whiskey.
Will’s jaw was dropped as Hannibal and Y/N giggled like school girls and whispered in each other’s ears.
He decided to stay sober so nothing bad would happen.
“That’s what he did today at a crime scene.” Hanni exclaims as he and Y/N were talking about Will being overprotective of them.
“No, really?” She whispered and looked over at Will as he stared at them with an eyebrow raised. “You know I can hear you two right?”
Hanni looked at him. “I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary at the scene today.” Hannibal gave him a “really, bitch?” look. “You literally didn’t even want me going near the woods cuz you were afraid that I would get hurt.” “Or that you might get kidnapped.” Y/N pointed out. Hanni nodded.
“Well you two are the light of my life. I won’t let anything happen to you.” “Will, that was cheesy.” Y/N said. Hannibal nodded, “So cheesy.”
“Will, I can kill people.” Will looked at him unimpressed by his comment.
“Let me do your skincare routine.” Y/N exclaimed and stood up. “You want to wash my face?” She nodded. “Am I ugly to you?” He asked and almost had tears.
Y/N shook her head and took Hannibal’s hands. “You are sexy but you need to start cleansing.”
Will smiled as Y/N convinced him to let her clean his skin.
Hannibal stood in the bathroom with a mask on his face. Will was trying not to laugh.
“Keep it on for 15 minutes.” She told Hannibal. He checked himself out in the mirror. “This feels weird.”
Will couldn’t hold back his laugh. Hannibal looked over at him, “Something funny, Will?” “No, you look good.” The man couldn’t hold back his laugh.
Ended up taking a picture of his lovers in their face masks.
It’s now his lockscreen.
Hannibal of course had to bake for his lovers.
“2 shots of Vodka.” Will looked at the older man weird. “I showed him the vine.” Y/N said, giggling. “The What?”
As the food was in the oven, Hanni looked at Will. Will looked back at him, “You’re so cute.” Hanni said as he pinched the man’s cheek.
Will pulled away and rubbed his cheek. Y/N giggled and pulled on his other cheek. “He’s such a puppy.”
Y/N knew that Will secretly loved to be called Puppy.
“Puppy? That’s a new one. I like it!” Will then glared at Y/N for calling him that in front of Hannibal.
“Well Y/N loves to be called kitten.” Will said with a smirk. Panties dropped.
Y/N glared at him as Hannibal chuckled. “You two do fight like cats and dogs sometimes.”
Once the food was done Will decided to get it out being the only sober one.
“Smells good.” Y/N said. Will nodded.
“I know. I’m the best cook around.” Hannibal said cockily. “Hanni, there fucking cheese sticks.”
Sober Hanni would never let his 2 lovers eat such a thing.
Y/N and Will ate them up as Hanni watched them. He had a drunken smile on his face and he couldn’t believe the two most precious people in the world were his.
#hannibal#mads mikkelsen#hannibal lecter#hannibal nbc#hugh dancy#hannibal imagine#will graham#will graham x reader#hannigram#hannibal x will#hannibal lecter x reader#hannibal lecter imagine#will graham imagine
44 notes
·
View notes
Note
I don't know if this is something you would write about? But could I request a Jay Halstead x female reader where the reader uses a wheelchair but sometimes she feels insecure when having to use it and Jay reassures her that it's nothing to worry about.
Insecurites
pairing: jay halstead x reader
summary: y/n doesn't like using a wheelchair and his boyfriend reassures her.
Warnings: none a guess
A/N: i really hope you like it! Thanks for the request!!
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
When your boyfriend was a detective in one of the most dangerous units in Chicago, you spent a lot of time thinking about his job, thinking about how risky it was, hoping with all your heart that he would come home to you again, praying that nobody would hurt him while he was trying to protect all the citizens. Every single day you prayed for it, you prayed for him to come back to you in one piece, you prayed for him to be by your side for many years again.
When you’re just a normal waitress, you can’t really imagine that you would have been the first, between you and your boyfriend, to be seriously hurt. He was the one on the streets, shooting at offenders, murderers, rapists, and serial killer; he was the one that got involved in shootings twenty-four hours a day, he was the one that risked his own life, not you. However, that day it was him who received a call from his brother Will, that was hyperventilating because of what happened to you.
When he heard the news, he rushed to the hospital immediately, without even asking for Voight’s permission: it would have been a waste of time for both of them, that’s why he just got out of the district, running towards his car, and using the lights and the sirens to get to you as soon as he could. When he arrived, he didn’t know too much about what had happened, he just knew that you had a car accident and that you were brought to Med, where Will discovered it was you.
When Jay discovered that you lost all your capacity to move your legs, he was broken. You were alive at least, but he just couldn’t be fully happy about that either because he knew that it wouldn’t have been easy for you to go through all of that. How could he help you? How could he tell you the truth? How could he watch you in your eyes and tell you that you would have never walked again?
It was too much for him, it was too much to handle. He was overwhelmed and he couldn’t think straight; he was happy to know that you were still alive, but he was really sorry and broken after the news. What happened really? Why did you got involved in a car accident in the first time?
“She was moved by a paramedic without the proper collar and the proper security.” Will explained when you got out of surgery: alive but as a paraplegic. “It was his first day and, when he saw her bleeding inside the car, he just pulled her out to be able to apply some pressure, but doing that he caused bad damage to her spine. I don’t want to give you hope, Jay, I want you to know everything clearly: there’s no possibility for her to walk again on her feet. I’m really sorry.”
Jay couldn’t believe his ears, he couldn’t believe what happened, but he had to. He needed to be strong for you, he needed to keep himself together for you, he needed to be your anchor from that time on and he would have done everything to make you feel better. He was so angry with the paramedic that moved you without the proper securities, but he just couldn’t be angry all the time: he needed to put aside all his angriness and he needed to be there for his girlfriend, for the love of his life.
Nothing between you two would have change, nothing would have changed the way Jay always looked at you, nothing would have changed the love he felt for you, nothing would have changed how lucky he felt for having you by his side. You were the best thing that ever happened to him: you were there when he had PTSD, you were there when he needed support after a bad day at work, as for example the day in which he killed a little girl while shooting at one offender, you were there when his best friend left Chicago to go back to be a Ranger and you were there for him any time he needed you to be.
It was his time to be by your side and he wanted to. He sat by your side, waiting for you to wake up, waiting for you to open your eyes again. He was the one that wanted to give you the news about your condition, he was the one that wanted to tell you the truth, being b your side while doing it. He was afraid of your reaction, and he wanted to make sure that you would have been good, that you would have accepted in the best way possible, even if it was hard to.
At first you couldn’t believe that.
You looked at Jay, shocked, speechless, hoping that he would have laughed and told you that it was all a joke, that he was just messing around with you, but you knew that it was the truth. Jay would have never joked about something like that, it had to be true because he was the one giving you the news and you knew that he was serious. You just pretended to accept it in the best way possible, trying to let Jay thinks that you were feeling good after all, even if you weren’t.
He had so much to be worried about that you dind.t want to had anything else, you didn’t want to make him worried about you and that’s why you pretend to be good, as good as a person that discovered to have lost the capacity to walk just few weeks before. Jay was worried about that; he perfectly knew that you weren’t feeling good as much as you wanted everyone to believe. He knew that you were trying to hide from him all the pain that you were feeling for that, and he saw it every night when he came back home after work, seeing you on the bed, working at something on your computer.
He loved when you used to greet him at the door, giving him a sweet kiss on his lips and asking him everything that happened at work; he missed the evenings you used to spend together, sitting on the couch watching tv or getting ready to go out for dinner or for a drink. He loved when, coming back home, he saw the surprise look on your face when he told you to get ready to go out together and he missed it a lot. He missed his girlfriend, the one that was always excited to hear everything about his day at work, the one that was always happy to spend time with him, the one that was always excited to go out together.
When he saw you still in your bed, working on something ion your computer, he stopped by the door frame and looked at you closely. He was sick of that. He was sick of the new version of his girlfriend, and he wasn’t referring to the one that couldn’t walk, he was sick of seeing the love of his life emotionless. Because that’s what you seemed to be for all those weeks. It seemed like you weren’t happy, sad, or angry about anything, it seemed like you were just focused on the everything you were working on, and he was sick about the way you used to close the laptop every time he walked inside the room. Why were you hiding something from him? Why were you actually hiding your feelings from him?
He was sick of that and, that night, he didn’t let you be like that anymore.
“Okay, that’s enough.” He said, gaining your full attention and going on with his speech. “What’s that all about? Why are you behaving like that? I’m sick of seeing you like that every single time I come back from home: you’re always in bed working on your computer, you always close it before I could even take a look at it, you always seem so distant, and I hate it. The only time I can actually touch you is when you let me shower you. I brought you the wheelchair and I never saw you on that, like you hate it, like you hate ME for buying it.”
You finally looked up at him, feeling tears in your eyes and trying to stop yourself from crying in front of him. Why were you like that? Since when you were afraid of being seen crying in front of him? Why were you so distant? Why couldn’t you be able to tell him the truth about how you felt? Why were you so afraid of telling the truth about all that?
He was the love of your life, and you didn’t want to push him away from you but, at the same time, you just couldn’t let him see you like that, you didn’t want to be seen like a victim or, worse, like a little puppy that needs help and that can’t do anything without help. Because that what you were after all, someone who couldn’t even wash yourself without help and, being unable to walk, left you without a job. You didn’t want for Jay to become your babysitter, because that how you felt after the incident, like a child that needs to be looked after every hour of every day.
And what about the wheelchair he brought you? Well at first you love the idea to be able to move again in some way, you loved the idea to be able to go out from that house alone, to be able to have a normal life again but, when you saw your reflection on the mirror, you just felt sick. You wanted to scream, cry, yell. You wanted to break the mirror and you almost did it.
That’s why you never used that wheelchair when he was around, you used it just to be able to go to the bathroom alone while he was at work, and learning how to get on it alone was something you did hardly. You didn’t know how strong you have to be in your arms to be able to sit on a chair when you can’t move your legs.
“You can’t understand, Jay.” You said, trying not to cry in front of him.
“Then help me understanding it, y/n!” He replied, walking towards you, and looking at your eyes. “Because I can’t understand why you look at me like that, why you don’t even kiss me anymore. I’m your boyfriend and I love you, so why are you trying to let me think that everything is fine If it’s not? Why are you trying to add distance between me and you? Do you hate me?”
“What? No!” you said, shaking your head again. “It’s not that, I just hate being unable to walk on my own, I hate being unable to have a shower alone, I hate being unable to be sexy again for you!”
Jay frowned, confused. He looked at you, sitting on the bed just by your side and taking your hand in his, caressing it gently. “What are you talking about, my love? You’re fucking beautiful and you’ll always be.”
“That’s not true Jay! When you’re not here I use that fucking wheelchair and I fucking hate it, okay? I’m ridiculous on it, I’m pathetic!”
“What? No!” He replied, squeezing you hand gently. “You’re not pathetic, y/n. You’re beautiful and you’ll always looked gorgeous, even on that chair.”
“No, I don’t! I tried wearing your favourite dress, the one you loved on me and I fucking hate it, I fucking hate myself on that chair! I’m… I’m not good enough, I’m not beautiful enough for you… I can’t even look good for a night out… I tried, I really did because your birthday is in weeks, and I wanted to go out together but… now I can’t. I can’t go out with you like that.”
“Oh baby…” He whispered, finally understanding why you looked so sad. “You know what? Wear it. I’ll help you.”
“No!” you shook your head. “I don’t want your help only because you think I can’t wear it on my own.”
“Babe, it’s not because of that. I want to help you wearing it because I fucking love you and every part of you. Don’t you remembered I used to help you with that dress even before the car crash? I just wanted an excuse to do it, to see you babe. Because I really love how you looked, especially in that dress you’re talking about.”
You looked at him, reddening.
Was he serious? Did he really wanted to help you just because of that?
When you looked at him and saw his eyes, you knew that he was damn serious and you immediately blushed; you sat, getting on the wheelchair that was always near the bed, ready for you to be used. You got on hit and you pushed yourself towards the wardrobe, feeling jay’s gaze on you. it was the first time he saw you on the wheelchair and you were nervous about it.
“You’re beautiful.” He whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Do you really think that this wheelchair makes you seem pathetic? Because I’m actually think that, instead of wearing that dress, I should take off the one you’re wearing right now, babe.”
You blushed and looked at him, then you notice his eyes and you stopped, feeling good at once. You knew that look and you couldn’t help but recognize it at once: it was the same look you used to see before the wheelchair and before the car crash.
You smiled, then you closed the wardrobe again, smiling.
“Then do it.” You whispered, looking at his uncertain gaze. You nodded and smile. “I’m sorry and I love you.”
“You don’t have to be sorry at all.” He whispered, walking towards you, and placing his hands on your cheeks. “And I love you too.”
He kissed you and finally, after weeks and weeks, you both found yourselves again. Clothes were left on the floor, and you felt loved and beautiful again, all thanks to jay, all thanks to the love of your life.
And God, you were so damn lucky to have him by your side.
#oneshot#chicago pd#fluff#jay halstead#angst#chicago fire#chicago med#fanfic#adam ruzek#hailey upton#will halstead#x reader#kim burgess#hank voight#fiction
20 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
konstantya
Let us go then, you and I.
leningdirect-blog
Lening Direct
ask-cinema-and-sketch-blog
Cinema and Sketch
fuxepovumega
Untitled
online-tarot-card-reading
Online Tarot Card Reading