#i think that’s the most comforting and relieving thing about him. he will never leave and abandon geralt.
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“what does geralt get from that friendship…”
another post examining the weight of geralt and dandelion’s friendship… because i don’t think people recognize how painful and debilitating loneliness can become.
the witcher as a deconstruction of the genre takes fantasy tropes to their most logical ends—it asks us to consider what The Lone Swordsman feels, looks into the humanity in a Cold-Blooded Killer. and it turns out he’s not cold-blooded at all.
that despite some superhuman abilities, he laments and worries and curses himself, just like any other worker of any other profession. just as the farmer is scorched by the sun, the washerwoman’s back aches, and the scholar goes half-blind studying, a witcher deals with all of the pains and annoyances and dangers of his job in a mundanely human way.
but the farmer, the washerwoman, and the scholar have something the witcher does not have—they’ll always be seen as human and part of their society. at the end of the day after enduring all of their labor, they have their wife to caress, festivities to attend, and taverns to frequent. but for a witcher? after the killing is over, what does he have? no one and nothing. not even a thank you. he is met with fear and hatred everywhere he goes, baseless bigotry and dislike.
I did my job. I quickly learned how. I’d ride up to village enclosures or town pickets and wait. If they spat, cursed and threw stones, I rode away. If someone came out to give me a commission, I’d carry it out.
so he faces not just loneliness, but being deliberately ostracized and cast out from society. geralt can’t even find a polite word in most settlements, much less a friend.
‘(…) Tell me, where should I go? And for what? At least here some people have gathered with whom I have something to talk about. People who don’t break off their conversations when I approach. People who, though they may not like me, say it to my face, and don’t throw stones from behind a fence. (…)’
this kind of loneliness is not a mere inconvenience. it’s completely altering to your self-perception and ability to see the positive in the world.
each day is not lived, but endured.
day in, and day out—forced to the most difficult and lowest labor in order to survive, and knowing that were you to die, no one would search for your body, few would miss you, hell, they might even spit “good riddance”.
in this situation, to find a friend, is not only friendship, but a rescue.
without dandelion, geralt may have drowned—drowned in solitude, amidst a sea of strangeness.
‘(…) And I’m alone, completely alone, endlessly alone among the strange and hostile elements. Solitude amid a sea of strangeness. Don’t you dream of that?’
No, I don’t, he thought. I have it every day.
because dandelion is not only a bright soul, characteristic rippling laughter and the strum of a lute, but someone who will intently listen to geralt, someone who mutually enjoys his company.
‘(…) you almost jumped out of your pants with joy to have a companion. Until then, you only had your horse for company.’
someone who doesn’t see him as strange and at the fringes of society at all, but as an utterly normal man.
and doesn’t impose demeaning, sappy sympathy onto him, but sobering and realistic “quit your bullshit” which ridicules the very thought that he should internalize societal hatred.
Do you know what your problem is, Geralt? You think you’re different. (…) [You don’t understand that] for people who think clear-headedly you’re the most normal man under the sun, and they all wish that everybody was so normal. What of it that you have quicker reflexes than most and vertical pupils in sunlight? That you can see in the dark like a cat? That you know a few spells? Big deal.
dandelion isn’t “willing” to accept geralt for himself—he already has accepted him. and to him, it’s no difficulty, it’s nothing worth discussing, because he sees no abnormality and no strangeness in him.
while others “prefer the company of lepers to witchers,” dandelion has already offered geralt to share his room and board. not out of sympathetic pity, not out of fetishizing curiosity. because… they’re friends.
and what else does this friendship save him from?
not only from others, but from himself.
worse than enduring others’ apathy and hatred is one’s own thoughts—the darkness and negativity which builds from witnessing and experiencing such behavior.
dandelion’s ability to counter and dispel geralt’s pessimism and self-flagellating tendencies—again, not out of pity, but out of friendship—is undeniably invaluable. someone to rescue you from your darkest thoughts, when you begin to spiral.
and in this darkness, all you can do is cry. you cry, beg for someone to help you, please—
Help! Why doesn't anyone help me? Alone, weak, helpless – I can't move, can't force a sound from my constricted throat. Why does no one come to help me? I'm terrified!
to be alone, the saga reminds us, is worse than a death sentence. to be alone is to “perish; stabbed, beaten or kicked to death, defiled, like a toy passed from hand to hand.” to be alone is to suffer, and to be with someone is to save them from that suffering.
'(…) I wouldn't like anything bad to happen to you. I like you too much, owe you too much-'
'You've said that already. What do you owe me, Yennefer?'
The sorceress turned her head away, did not say anything for a while.
'You travelled with him,' she said finally. 'Thanks to you he was not alone. You were a friend to him. You were with him.'
it is true that geralt has saved dandelion countless times, helped him, gotten him out of some scrape… but to ask what did geralt get in return? are you kidding me?
did you ever consider that it is dandelion who saved geralt?
by being with him. by being by his side. by being his friend.
indeed, dandelion has rescued geralt, countless times, from the yawning jaws of endless loneliness. he’s helped him, chased away the danger of geralt’s own rumination. and he’s gotten him out of scrapes, his own insecurities and bitter helplessness.
so what does dandelion give geralt? what does geralt get from their friendship?
an amusing question. what one gets from friendship is the friendship itself. and that is more than enough.
#the witcher books#gerlion#geralt of rivia#dandelion#jaskier#the parallels with ciri’s story makes me so emotional like…#ciri is just geralt but younger and alone. and thus she suffers so immensely#i included ciri’s nightmare because i think that’s how it feels to be alone#you just cry out ‘help! why won’t someone help me?’ and no one answers#and the funny bit is that everyone is like ‘ugh you cannot get RID of dandelion’ like#i think that’s the most comforting and relieving thing about him. he will never leave and abandon geralt.#there is nothing geralt *would* or *could* do to ever push him away#the kind of friendship where you never worry about being too ‘weird’ for them because they straight up dont care if youre weird#honestly idk how more people dont see them like this because i feel like loneliness is so pervasive right now#does everyone else just have this kind of best friend and for that reason take dandelion’s presence for granted#s: i want to be by your side#c: geralt#c: dandelion#excerpt#analysis#like. this is how it is:#the entire world: ‘you’re nothing you’re worthless and you’re inhuman’#dandelion is NOT like ‘omgggg of course you are something 🥺🥺 pwease don’t think badly like that’#no. he’s like ‘the hell? that’s the stupidest thing ive ever heard. why the hell are you even listening to that’#dandelion has a kind of masculine energy that the fandom does not like lmao
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lighthouse for a lost comrade . . .
Pairing // Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Word count // 4.9k
Tags // 18+ ONLY, AFAB reader, soft simon riley, written from simon's perspective, mild descriptions of injury and blood, hurt and comfort, aka simon finally allows himself to be looked after <3, he is a big boy with a heart that yearns to be loved you cannot convince me otherwise, the softest of smut, praise, you accidentally give ghost a 'sir' kink, reader calls ghost sir a couple of times because they're hot like that, unprotected sex (tut tut), creampie, a whole lot of swearing
AN // i love this man a ridiculous amount, so me writing nearly 5k about how much i love him was inevitable
AO3 link here
Simon Riley is not a man who cares about his own health. In fact, his wellbeing never has, and never will be a priority to him. He has work to do, gruelling, gritty, gruesome work, it is beyond pointless wasting time even thinking about when he last had more than 3 hours sleep, or how long it’s been since he consumed anything other than cold military rations. In his defence, he’s never really had a reason to give a shit, he sees the hourglass whenever he allows himself to close his eyes; watches the sand slip rapidly through the cracks, counting down until his inevitable, most likely painful death. He’s living life on a timer, and he’s never had a reason to change that.
Until he met you.
You were a wide-eyed rookie, Laswell bringing you into the fold as a technician, a skilled hacker and mechanic who despite your innocent doe eyes, held lethal talents. He remembers so vividly, the way your head had cocked to the side as Laswell introduced you to the peculiar members of task force 141, remembers the way your eyes stopped on him. You showed not a single ounce of fear or hesitance, just pure unbridled curiosity. That same curiosity led you to asking him far too many questions, relentlessly prying to see more of the man behind the mask, to see Simon Riley, rather than ‘Ghost’. It should have pissed him off, he should have reprimanded you for your callousness towards your Lieutenant, but somehow you knew exactly which questions to ask, knew exactly when to stop and move on to other subjects.
Contrary to popular belief, Simon doesn’t hide his past, doesn’t try to use it to fuel the mysterious and mythical reputation he’s unwittingly built. It’s just that no one ever asks. Maybe it’s something about the skull mask, or the egregiously high kill count he sits so casually on top of that has people wary of ever approaching him. But you—you had no hesitation. You read him like a goddamn book every single time, and it simultaneously terrified and relieved him.
One glance and every secret he shoved behind his balaclava is left bare before you, leaving him with a vulnerable, gaping wound in the shape of a lifetime of trauma and tales that Simon knows no person should ever have to experience. And yet, your eyes hold not an ounce of pity, no awkward silences attempting to be alleviated with an awkward pat on the back and a “that sounds rough, buddy”. You see his past, his pain, his suffering, his bad habits, without him ever having to explicitly say anything. And in return, you say nothing. You don’t try and mollify him about circumstances he’s moved on from long ago, you make no effort to coddle him, to sit him down and patronisingly ask him if he’s doing well, or when the last time he slept was.
Instead, you leave him cutely packaged leftovers on his doorstep, easy meals he can throw in the microwave when he’s too tired to even comprehend making food. You buy him a multitude of jigsaws and puzzles for when sleep evades him as it so often does. You never once try to change him, never force yourself into his life just so you can claim that you’re some selfless martyr. To Simon Riley, you are nothing short of a blessing, and falling in love with you was quite frankly the easiest thing he’s ever done.
He takes off the mask for the first time when neither of you were prepared, nor expecting it. The mission had been so fucking rough, camped out in the middle of nowhere on the hunt for someone he was sure had long since gone. Weeks spent trudging through thick mud, swimming upriver, tracking footprints that led nowhere, steered them to no one. His bone-deep exhaustion finally caught up with him after being shot in the leg and falling nearly 75 metres off of a cliff, plunging into the water below. Price had insisted he go straight to the medic tent back at basecamp, but then simply sighed and shook his head, resigned, as he watched Simon limp off the chopper, and in the exact opposite direction.
To most, this would be the latest example of Simon Riley once again disregarding his health for the sake of keeping up the stoic, strong mask he never let slip. Yet this time, Simon Riley was not disregarding his health, he was, for maybe the first time, trying to preserve what little of it he had left. His leg was near numb by the time he made it to your tent, his foggy mind quickly soothed by the sound of you humming along to the radio, accompanied by the rapid clicking of keys as you worked on some coding. It takes him hissing in discomfort as he attempts to remove his military boots for you to turn around, eyes going impossibly wide as you watch an alarmingly large pool of red grow at his feet.
“Jesus Christ Ghost, are you trying to redecorate my floor?” He kept his mouth shut, using the last dregs of his energy to keep his gaze pinned on you, dark brown irises following your every move as you usher him into the chair you occupied merely seconds before, gingerly hovering your hands over the drenched material that clings to his thigh, soaked in blood and water.
“I’m going to cut the material above the wound, okay? I need to see what I’m working with here.” Your eyes connect with his unwavering gaze, translating his silence into a language that has taken you an eerily short period of time to become fluent in. He watches you nod to yourself, can pinpoint the cogs turning in your mind, can practically see you write the list of how best to deal with this situation as you unpack your first aid kit. Somehow, despite his leg stinging like a bitch, despite how utterly worn he feels, so raw and rough around the edges, he feels at peace.
Price may think he was a stupid bastard for not seeing one of their trained medics, but Simon knows without a doubt that you will always be the best thing for him, you will always be the first port of call, the lighthouse that guides him oh so safely to shore, to home. Even when your stitches are a little uneven, even when you dab a little too much alcohol disinfectant onto his wound, even when you wince every time the muscle in his leg twitches involuntarily, he watches you pour every ounce of care and tenderness into every touch, watches you take care of him in a way no one else ever could, not that he’d let them.
You’re finishing off wrapping up the wound on his thigh when Simon realises he doesn’t want this moment to be over. He selfishly craves more of your delicate, gentle care, unsure if he could ever have this again after tonight, if he deserved it.
So, he waits. He waits for you to lean back on your haunches, bending back to check your handiwork with a satisfied smile tugging at your pretty lips. He waits for your eyes to drift to his, as they so often do, and then he speaks.
“I uh, I got hurt here too,” The words grate against his throat like sandpaper, rough and unsure as he lifts his hand to prod at his cheek, “think I hit a rock in the water after falling.” You stand immediately, eyebrows furrowed together as your fingers gently brush the small rip in his mask.
“I can’t see much with this in the way, Ghost, though I think you’ll live.”
Simon couldn't pinpoint exactly what had his fingers hooking under his mask, couldn’t single it down to any particular moment or word that had him pulling the black material over his chin, and up past his nose, he just knew it felt right. All he focused on was the way your lips fell agape, how your hands lifted automatically towards his wrists, whether to stop them or encourage them further he didn’t know, but he sure as fuck clocked the slight tilt to your head, taking him immediately back to when you first laid eyes on him.
You were looking at Simon in a way he can’t say he’s ever experienced. Like a complicated mixture of guilt and awe. But he feels no fear, no regret as he throws the skull balaclava unceremoniously onto the floor, and directly into the pool of blood he’d left by the door.
“Should be a little easier to see now, don’t you think?”
All he gets in return is a small huff of a laugh, the ghost of your breath fanning across his exposed face, he swears he’s never felt anything as sweet. That is until your hand comes to cup his face, shudders erupting down his spine when the pads of your impossibly soft fingers brush just under the superficial cut on his cheek.
“I don’t know Si, I think we might have to amputate.” You murmur, an overly dramatic lilt to your voice as you pretend to further examine the ‘wound’. And Jesus fucking Christ, if he isn’t so impossibly, incredibly fond of you.
“That bad, huh doc?” He leans forward, just enough to catch the way your pupils dilate, the slight hitch to your usually even breath, “Are you sure there’s nothing you can do to save it? I’m particularly fond of that cheek.” He drinks in the soft hum you give in response, watches you with rapt attention as you lean further forward, and nearly passes the fuck out when you press your lips to his upper cheekbone, because what the fuck.
Before this, Simon Riley could say with absolute certainty that he’d never once blushed in his life, but now? He could feel the blood rushing to his face, knowing without a doubt that you could feel the heat radiating from where your fingers and lips remain connected to his skin. His wide eyes, blackened around the sockets from a mixture of paint and week-long exhaustion, remain firmly fixed on you, hardly hesitating before he secures your hand against his face the second he feels you pulling away.
There are no words exchanged, nothing but shallow breaths and searching eyes before Simon allows himself to be selfish just this once and pulls you onto his uninjured thigh, guiding you to sit with his other hand, fingers digging ever so slightly into the meat of your hip. And now he has you here, right where he’s always wanted you, there’s not a chance in hell he’s ever letting you go.
“Please kiss me, Simon.”
As if he could ever say no to you.
“Since you asked so nicely.”
He removes his hand from your wrist, dragging his scarred knuckles as delicately as he possibly can across your cheek, fanning out his fingers around the side of your face, using the leverage to guide you impossibly closer. He allows himself one last look, tracing his gaze from your lidded eyes to your lips before he lets his eyelids fall shut, and loses himself in you. Loses every ounce of tension and exhaustion under the ministrations of your fingers as they tangle into his hair, and finally, fucking finally, he feels his once cold, dead heart thrum to life as you sigh contentedly against his lips. Kiss of life in-fucking-deed.
He's lost in every inch of you, can’t get over how soft and warm the plush of your waist is under his fingers, how responsive you are when he slides his hand ever so slightly under your oversized t-shirt. He wants more, he needs more, can’t help himself as he moves his kisses from your lips, down your jaw, until he reaches the base of your throat, sucking deep purple bruises into your supple skin.
“You taste like heaven,” He’s all too aware of how raspy his voice has become, desire only deepening his tone further as he drags his lips back up the expanse of your throat, a deep groan pulled from his throat when he feels you shift on his lap, highlighting the growing pressure of his cock straining against his pants. “Driving me fuckin’ wild already. Look what you’ve done to me, gorgeous.” His fingers come to curl under your jaw, directing your gaze down to the prominent tenting of his trousers, ensuring his eyes don’t dare drift away from your face as he watches you take in the view before you.
“Mine.”
The noise Simon makes in response is nothing short of primal, it wasn’t a sound he was even aware he could make, near guttural, but of course you would be the one to pull it out of him.
“That’s right baby, all yours, fucking hell,” he’s powerless to stop his eyes squeezing shut when he feels your fingers curl around his clothed cock, mustering every ounce of strength he has left not to cum in his pants there and then, because he’ll be fucking damned if he lets anything get in the way of giving you the pleasure you deserve.
“Come on Si, look at me.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath before he finally opens his eyes again, instantly zeroing in on your fingers as they begin to unfasten his pants, before flicking back up to meet your gaze, “Is this okay?”, your voice tentative.
“More than okay, Jesus,” Simon wastes little time after that, hands sliding under your shirt and shifting further up your torso, muscles freezing when his hand contacts nothing but bare skin, grazing the flesh of your breasts.
“No bra? Lucky me.” You laugh, arching your back further into his touch.
“More like lucky me, those things are basically torture devices, Simon, I’d like to see you try and work with metal wire and straps digging into your boobs and back,” He grins, pinching one of your nipples between two of his calloused fingers and revelling in the way your smirk twists into a moan, hips twitching against the rough material of his cargo pants.
“I think it’s about time you took these off,” He mutters, one hand dropping to thumb under the waistband of your sweatpants, “Can’t tell you the number of times I’ve thought about how pretty you’d look getting yourself off on my lap.” Apparently, Simon doesn’t need to say anymore, watching with intense eyes as you pull away from his grip, and begin undressing. Your top joins his mask on the floor, soon followed by your pants and underwear until you’re stood in all your naked glory, mere inches away from him. Simon must be the luckiest son of a bitch on this entire fucking planet.
He takes advantage of your absence by lifting his hips, cocking an eyebrow at you as he gestures towards his trousers, “Give an injured soldier a hand, would you doll?” Truthfully, Simon knows he would have no issues removing them himself, but why would he do that when he can have this instead? When he can have your body pressed in between his thighs, your deft hands undoing his buttons and sliding the material of his military pants slowly over his wrapped-up leg, when he can watch your eyes drink in every inch of new skin revealed with barely contained desire. No, he would much rather have this, especially when your dainty hands peel away his boxers, leaving him only in his top and vest plate.
“Simon…” You whine, your lips so perfectly pouted, a cute little furrow between your brows as you pull and tug at various parts of his vest, “help me take this shit off. It’s not fair that I’m the only one naked here.” He hums, schools his face to show careful contemplation, reaching up a hand to rest on your bare upper thigh.
“What’s the magic word, sweetheart?”
“Please, sir.”
Well fuck. That awakened something within him.
With military precision, he unsecured the armoured vest from his body, wasting no time in pulling his shirt over his head, joining the now large pile of clothes left scattered across the floor of your tent. For a brief second, Simon feels so incredibly vulnerable under your intense gaze, wondering if maybe this is how people feel when he fixes his stare upon them, bare and defenceless. But then you lower yourself back into his lap, settling across both his legs with such gentle care, wrapping both your arms around the back of his head and pinning him with a look he thinks most likely reflects his own.
“You’re so beautiful, Simon,” It’s almost too much, the sincerity in your voice mixed with the way the words were uttered so softly into the air, as though they were a secret only to be shared between the two of you.
“I’m nothing compared to you.” You shake your head, smiling, leaning forward until your nose brushes his.
“Just take the compliment, Lieutenant.” He tries his best not to shiver as he feels your hand trace down his spine, instead shifts his focus onto how close your lips are to his, or the quiet noise you make in the back of your throat as his hands come to grip the meat of your thighs.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Something in the air changes, as though the collective patience between the two of you could stretch no further, so taut it had no choice but to snap. His lips crash into yours, desperation surging through Simon’s veins like wildfire. Fuck, what are you doing to him?
“Can I touch you?” he mumbles against your lips, large hands aching from where they rest, yearning the feeling of your wet heat against his fingertips.
“God, yes, please.”
With newfound strength, he lifts you from his lap and twists you until your back is flush to his chest, uncaring of the twinge of pain he feels from his leg as he settles you fully on his lap. Now, Simon has full access to every inch of your perfect body, nuzzling his face into the side of your neck as he litters the skin with open mouthed kisses, humming contentedly at the way you arch into his hands as he cups your breasts with both hands, fingers toying with your nipples until they’re perked and firm under his touch.
“No teasing, please,” Your pleading breaks him from a momentary stupor, bringing his head up to watch as you place one of your hands over his, guiding it further down, sweeping over your sternum, past your belly button, until his palm rests over your cunt, “I need you here, Simon.”
Fucking hell.
He couldn't find the words, couldn’t articulate them even if he had any. So, instead of speaking, he presses his hand over the curve of your cunt, groans when he feels just how hot and wet you are, all for him.
“Mine.” He repeats your words from earlier into the shell of your ear, a smirk stretching onto his lips at the full body shiver you give in response, growing near predatory when he feels your pussy twitch under his hand. God, how the fuck are you so wet? His fingers glide over your folds with ease, teasing your clit on every upwards swipe of his fingers, and when he finally dips his index finger into your cunt, he’s rewarded with the sweetest symphony. Breathy whines and whispered pleas of “more”, “deeper, Simon, please”, every request he happily indulges, now curling two fingers against your velvet walls, searching for the spot he knows will have you keening against his body. It takes a shift of his palm, the angle changing just enough to have you choking on a gasp, his other hand remains fixed to your breasts, pushing your chest down until you’re pinned against his body.
“Atta girl, feels good huh?” He slips a third digit in, cursing under his breath as he feels your pussy clamp down, twitching helplessly around his fingers as they continue to stroke relentlessly at your g-spot, “Gonna need you to cum at least once on my fingers before I give you anything else, baby.” He dares to steal a glance at your face, and is met with closed eyes, your mouth agape, and head thrown back onto his shoulder, you’re nothing short of a masterpiece. Your hands desperately grip onto his arms, nails digging sweet red crescents into Simon’s inked skin, as though the hold you have on him is the only thing keeping you grounded, and he feels positively fucking drunk on it.
You’re close, that much he can tell, and as much as he could absolutely keep you like this on his lap for another good few hours, he takes pity on your furrowed eyebrows and soft whimpers, removing his hand from your chest and placing his thumb into your open mouth. He doesn’t even need to instruct you as you close your lips around his digit and suck, your tongue eagerly lapping at the rough pad of his finger. He doesn’t have the strength to leave it there for much longer, overly aware of the way his cock desperately twitches from where it’s trapped between your bodies, instead focusing on the way you react the second his spit slicked thumb begins to rub tight circles around your clit.
“Si-, fuck, Simon ‘m close, so close, wanna cum,” There was never any other option for him than to watch you fall apart on his lap, but if he somehow needed further encouragement, “Please Sir, please make me cum.” It would be entirely impossible for him to stop the moan your words drag from his throat, to think of anything other than giving you your release. It’s obvious when your orgasm hits, having to stop toying with your now engorged clit to instead pin your hips down, worried there was a chance you might fall to the side if he didn’t keep you grounded.
“Good girl, such a good fucking girl, made such a mess of my fingers baby,” Simon hums against the side of your head, slowing his ministrations until he’s lazily fingering your still spasming pussy, drawing out the sweet sounds of post-orgasm sensitivity from your spit-shining lips. He waits until you finally regain some form of lucidity, waits until your neck straightens, no longer lolled against his collarbone to finally withdraw his fingers, soothing your whines at his absence with kisses to your jaw. But he makes sure your eyes are locked with his when he brings his fingers to his own lips, ensures you’re watching with nothing less than rapt attention as he cleans every drop of your arousal from his skin.
“Taste fuckin’ divine, princess.” Your head tips forward into your hands with a groan, and Simon couldn’t hide his pleased grin even if he tried.
“You’re not allowed to be this hot,” Your words muffled into your palm, the Ghost’s heart rate spiking when you looked at him shyly through your fingers, affection surging through his bloodstream like a shot of pure adrenaline. “Especially when I can feel your cock pressed against my ass.” As if he needed the reminder, as if that singular thought hasn’t been plaguing him for the past 10 minutes.
“And what exactly are you going to do about that, darling?”
His words were meant to make you shy, were said to watch those sweet eyes of yours widen. Except, Simon realises, he must have awoken something within you, something bold, something utterly fucking debauched, because instead of shying away, you lock your eyes with his, rising to the challenge he set. You stand up, turn yourself around, climb back onto his lap and sink down onto his cock in one fluid motion.
“Fucking-, shit, what the fuck,”
“I think that works for both of us, right, Simon?” You need to stop, or you at least need to give him some time to adjust to whatever the fuck it is you’re doing right now. He can tell you’re far from unaffected, however. The slight quiver to your voice, and the way the slick walls of your pussy clench greedily around him show at least that much. And yet, you’re pinning him with a fierce gaze, your fingers forming an iron grip on loose brown hair at the base of his skull, using him as leverage to grind your hips in circular motions. “Let me take care of you, handsome.” His response cut off by a groan as you begin to fuck yourself on his cock, his eyes frantically flicking from where your cunt swallows every inch of his shaft, back up to your heavy-lidded gaze, locked onto his as you effortlessly ride his cock.
So instead of trying to take the lead, to lift his hips to meet yours, for the first time ever, Simon Riley does as he’s told. He allows you to control the pace, lets you direct his hands to your waist, but doesn’t use it as a point of control. Instead he caresses your skin with rough fingers. He lets you take care of him. And God, does it feel good.
He lets his head fall back, lets his eyes slip closed, and allows himself to just exist in this moment with you. A luxury he hasn’t been able to afford for far too long. Instead, he focuses on the sounds dissipating into the air around your joined bodies, the soft pants and moans that spill from both his mouth and yours, the rhythmic slap of skin on skin combined with the slick noise of his cock fucking into your heat, and if he focuses hard enough, he swears he can hear the rapid beating of your heart where your chest is pressed flush to his.
“C’mon Simon, baby, look at me.” It takes an embarrassing amount of energy for Simon to lift his neck up, refocusing his gaze onto you, “You’re doing so well, letting me look after you like this.” And fuck, he doesn’t want to cry, can’t remember the last time he allowed himself the comfort of crying, but he feels so unequivocally safe around you. Still, the time for tears will come later, right now, Simon wants nothing more than to feel you lose yourself on his cock. He secures his hands on your ass, and stands, ignoring your surprised cries and worried scolding, and walks as best he can towards the mattress near your desk. He doesn’t want to admit that lowering you both down onto the cheap material nearly left him breathless, and he definitely won’t admit that you were right, he didn’t have the strength to do that. But now that he has you lying on top of him, cock still buried deep inside of you, he knows the pain was more than worth it. Because in this position, he can ground his feet into the mattress and focus on fucking you like you deserve.
He ignores the sting of pain in his thigh, no doubt ruining some of the stitching you had done earlier, but he couldn’t give less of a shit. Not when you’re mewling into his chest, nails scratching long, thin pink lines down the expanse of his chest as he fucks his hips ruthlessly up to meet yours. He knows he won’t last much longer, you feel too fucking good, and he has no strength to hold back, praying that you’re as close as he is as he snakes one hand down to toy with your clit once again. Relief washing over him when he feels your cunt clench like a vice around his length, allows himself one, two more thrusts of his hips before he finally reaches his peak, cock twitching like a heartbeat from where it’s buried within you, not moving until the last weak spurts of cum finish painting your cervix white.
“Fucking hell,” with his energy long since depleted, his body slumps into the mattress below, dragging you down with him, his arms still wrapped securely around your form.
“That good, huh?” You grin up at him, eyes glinting in the low light. You look positively stunning.
“You know it, sweetheart,” Simon pauses, looks down at where you’re still sprawled against his chest, and silently thanks the motherfucker who decided to shoot him in the first place, he’s not sure if he would have ever gathered the strength to have you like this, in the way he always craved. “C’mere, I want cuddles.” He grunts, choosing to ignore the surprised laugh you give in response, says nothing at your incessant teasing and light threats to tell Soap that “oh my god, Ghost likes cuddles”.
He does none of that, instead, he holds you close, stares up at the ceiling as you bury your face into his neck, whispering sweet confessions into his skin, words he soaks up and saves for a rainy day. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley has never been a man to care about his own health, even now he still sees that damn hourglass, unsure of how much sand remains. But now he has a reason to change that.
Now, he has you.
#☁︎⋅writing#simon riley#simon 'ghost' riley#ghost mw2#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#cod mw22#simon riley smut#simon riley imagine#ghost x reader#ghost x you#dear lord#this derailed so quick#i wanted soft ghost#i got soft ghost plus nearly 2k of soft ghost smut#i ruined myself#anyway enjoy SLDFS
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★ DO I WANNA KNOW? | JB22
Scenario: in which a series of unexpected events, starting with being stuck in the same hotel room with a single bed, takes teammates yn ln and jenson button from major rivals to lovers.
Pairing: jenson button x fem!reader
A/N: no one asked for this but LAWD I LOVE JENSON BUTTON. i had to do something about it 😔 shoutout to @renarots for supplying memes and 4 am brain rot that contributed to the making of this fic and most of my other ones too
NOTE: yn and jenson drive for mercedes (i had to do this for my own sanity)
racing_news
liked by buttonnation, sebrrari, and 12,432 others
racing_news jenson button responds to questions about his relationship with teammate yn ln following this weekends rumors.
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formulawrld idec about the rumors jenson looks so fine bro
formulavettel i bet seb knows all the tea about them. sebastian please spill
webbersebberf1 🤨 surely they could have just gotten another room? they have the money for it. idk, me thinks they’re dating and trying to keep it secret
⤷ ferrarilvr LITERALLY. you genuinely cannot convince me that they aren’t dating after this
⤷ shumione you genuinely thing they’re together even with how much they clearly don’t like each other?
⤷ ferrarilvr 🤷🏻♀️ things change and honestly i feel like they’ve had feelings for each other and just didn’t want to admit it
It had been three months since the “hotel incident”. Finally, you texted him. You weren’t sure what to expect from him, but you were ultimately relieved by his response, and didn’t wast a single moment on making your way to him.
With each step you take, a small splash sounds beneath your feet. Rain patters on the ground, and you pull your jacket closed in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold gust of wind that blows through the night. Each stride is powerful and determined - the truth is, you like Jenson. What once was a deep disdain for the man has somehow formed into a blossoming adoration for him. Miscommunications and mistakes lead you down the wrong path with him, but ever since the night of the “hotel incident” — as you, Jenson, and your team call it — you haven’t been able to see him in a bad light.
“Look, i’m sorry,” Jenson says, his expression softer than it had ever been towards you. You were almost offended, thinking he was about to try and make you feel bad, but that wasn’t the case. “You’re more than welcome to go - actually, i’ll pay for your hotel room if you want to leave, but if you’re choosing to stay, i’ll give you your space.” It was unlike him, at least, the him that you knew. He seemed remorseful and genuine, like you and him were anything but rivals. It made your heart beat just a little faster in your chest, and you couldn’t deny how strangely right it felt to be in the same bed with him. Even sharing the room was almost natural.
You turned away from each other to change, but both of you were guilty of peeking over your shoulder. Your eyes lingered for longer than you’d ever admit, but the same went for him. Neither of you could muster the courage to say anything, to address the tension between you both, and despite what should have been an awkward atmosphere, you both found yourselves comfortable in each others presence, even with the weight of your forbidden thoughts.
Not much happened after that, truthfully. Things did change though. Suddenly, his presence didn’t irk you, and you could never get on his nerves. You worked together more willingly, almost volunteered, and through those minor changes, you both came to realize how wrong you’d been about the other. Sure, Jenson had his moments, but he was sweet, a genuine and polite guy. You weren’t entitled the way Jenson thought - in fact, you were humble, kind…and how could he ever not see just how beautiful you are?
He doesn’t know the answer to that, but now, knowing that you’re moments away, he finds himself anxious. In a good way. He’s excited to see you, and he laughs to himself about how ironic that is given how he used to dread seeing you. A knock on his door draws him back to reality, and he knows it’s you. Outside of the hotel room, you wait impatiently, and breathe a sigh of relief when he finally opens the door. Instanly, like an instinct, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, nuzzling into his warmth. His reaction is just as instinctive, and he wraps his arms around you, guiding you into the privacy of his room.
For the first time, you talked. Not yelled, not argued, just spoke to one another. It was a completely different experience for the two of you, one that you never thought would come of your relationship, but it came to you naturally. The warm touch of his hand holding yours, the somehow assuring and slightly intimidating way he looked at you as you spoke, the way he didn’t just listen to you, he heard you. And, you did the same for him. Though he didn’t have much to say, you listened and heard, and soon, you felt as though you’d only just met him, yet known him for years. Not the rival Jenson, but a Jenson you could get used to, one that you didn’t back away from when he leaned in.
It was a small, sealing kiss that he placed on your lips. One to really ensure that all of this was happening, that things were changing between the both of you, and you both accepted it, with a weight lifting off of your shoulders.
mercedesamgf1
liked by the.ynln, jensonbutton, and 265,672 others
mercedesamgf1 last time in Abu Dhabi…
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hereforbutton okay but are jenson and yn dating? PLEASE TELL US
formulaobsessed ARE YOUR DRIVERS DATING? YES OR NO?
⤷ mercedesamgf1 🤭
⤷ hereforbutton okay so what the fuck does that mean
formulayn we do NOT care about jenson rn where is my wife
mercamgfan maybe this time don’t prioritize the inferior driver 🙏🏻 yn deserves her wdc
hereforyn i’m so scared that this race is gonna send yn and jenson back into their rival arc
⤷ jensonbuttonlvr NO WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT. i cant handle them going back to rivals now
⤷ ynsgirlie i know. now that we have them being nice, i can’t imagine going back to what they used to be
mercedesamgf1
liked by the.ynln, jensonbutton, nicorosberg, and 346,789 others
mercedesamgf1 OUR WORLD CHAMPION ❤️ an exceptional performance from yn today, and a well deserved win. thank you for another amazing year, @/the.ynln
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the.ynln i’m gonna cry 💔 thank you guys so much.
formulayn THATS MY FUCKING WIFE IM SO PROUD OF HER
buttonynamg MY BABIES P1-P2 IN WDC IM SO PROUD RIGHT NOW
formulaobssesed who’s here after the post race interview? 🤭
⤷ markwebba I KNEW THEY WERE GONNA FALL IN LOVE
⤷ jensonsbutton bro jenson was heart eyes for her in the whole interview and the way he kissed her cheek when she started talking about their relationship 💔 he was so gentle
⤷ hereforbutton what got me was her getting emotional about the win and him hugging her like :( i was always hoping they’d start getting along but i did not expect them to become like this
🏷️: general taglist | @renarots @jsjcue @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @minkyungseokie @treehouse-mouse
#✩ . jb²² files 🏎️#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 drabble#f1 fanfic#f1 x you#formula one fanfiction#f1 fic#f1 x female reader#formula one social media au#formula one smau#formula one x you#formula one fluff#formula one x reader#formula one fic#formula 1#jenson button#jenson button x reader#Spotify
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miguel getting mad because you keep waking him up.
i’d think that he won’t get mad mad. because he loves his darling too much to make her upset🥹
-
he sighs in frustration as his eyes become wide eyed open. can’t seem to fall asleep anymore now that you keep poking him everywhere.
“what is it this time, baby?” he calls you by one of your favorite pet names although he feels rather annoyed at you for disturbing his peace. “it’s close to 1 am. go to sleep.”
he tries to tell you as calmly as possible, obviously irritated but not to the point where he’d snap at you. he’s too much of a gentleman to do that.
you prop yourself on of your elbows, the strap of your midnight blue dress slips a bit. “do you love me, miggy?”
he frowns, turning around to look at you. “you woke me up for that shit?”
with a small pout, you pretend to look sad. eyes casting down to your fingers. “i didn’t hear a yes…”
“dios mío” he mutters, palms running over his tired face as his head shakes at your childish—but cute—behavior. “yes of course i love you, mi amor. i’d tear down the sky and would fucking kill for you. why are you even asking me a stupid question?”
you shrug your shoulders as you smile. feeling your cheeks warm at his response. “nothing, solo me preguntaba.”
“okay, anything else?”
the smile disappears from your face as a frown soon replaced it. “why the fuck do you sound like that? am I annoying to you?”
“Jesus Christ, woman! I do not sound annoyed” he whispers yell, finding it hard to believe that the two of you are basically arguing about this in the middle of the night,
“nunca podrías molestarme, mi vida” his cold fingers reaching up to graze lightly against your soft cheek, internally relieve that you quickly melt into his touch. “you will most definitely be the death of me but I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
your heart tugs at that, softly biting the inside of your cheek to hold back the smile that’s itching to make an appearance.
“i love you, Miguel.” you respond. “you’re it for me. i just know it.”
he grins widely, folding his arm behind his head as he admires every single detail of your beauty. your pretty eyes, your nose, your gorgeous gorgeous smile that could make anyone fall into their knees. the way your hair falls perfectly against your shoulder.
you’re it for him too. he believes that.
“i love you more, darling” he whispers softly. “now can we get back to sleep? I’m really really exhausted.”
you nod, moving a bit closer to his body and making yourself comfortable. “of course, baby. I’m sorry for waking you.” you rest your head against his bare chest, fingers tracing circles on it because you know how much he loves it,
he shakes his head in disapproval. “nothing to apologize, mi amor. now go to sleep.” he kisses the crown of your head as you slowly fall into a deep sleep. soft heavy breathing of yours is the only thing that fills up the room that night,
miguel feels his heart is full. a grateful smile seems to never leave his face as he hold his woman close to him.
soon as he realizes you’re finally asleep, Miguel turns his head towards the bedside table, hand reaching out behind a lamp as he blindly searches for one of the most important thing in his life that will change his future.
a small sigh of relief escapes his mouth as he finally grasps it in his palm. the small red velvet box that he has been hiding for months.
he carefully flicks it open and the beautiful encrusted diamond ring is secured. not a single scratch or defect is yet to graze it.
Miguel tends to imagine what it’s like to have a family with you. because the two of you have talked about it before, and no one is more excited and eager than he is.
he carefully sets it back to its hidden place after closing it back. a place where he knows for sure you won’t find it.
he really can’t wait to marry you.
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SKZ Reaction: He hurts the reader II (Hyung Line)
A/N: this is for @slayhyunjin one of my favorite followers and I’d like to say a friend now. Merry Christmas hun you wanted them to make up and I did what I could but please remember in part one Minho was a Yandere so his is technically a good ending in his mind but I will have the Maknae line out soon so get the cutest most fluffy Jeongin pics ready cause that was what was promised 😭😂 but anyway I hope y’all enjoy this and it makes y’all a little happy to see that I’m alive and still writing.
Masterlist Part 1
Chan:
Your phone had been ringing off the charts since you had left your shared apartment with Chan. You stared at the waves of the ocean as the sea breeze kissed your tear stained cheeks. Your fear had dwindled in the hours you had been sitting here on this empty beach. You bite your lip, maybe you did misunderstand. You knew Chan almost better than you knew yourself; which is why you know he’d never cheat on you. You know that she probably did fall or even if she purposely fell Chan was probably innocently helping her up because that’s the type of person he is. Well, you thought he was…that is until that lamp whipped past your head and was sent crashing against the wall. Guilt filled you as you remembered the way Chan pleaded with you not to go. He knew you had nowhere to stay, you weren’t from South Korea though you had lived here for almost 5 years it wasn’t easy for you to make friends as a foreigner wether you fit in or not. You didn’t fit with most of the things that happened around you in this country and without your relationship with Chan though, living here was apart of your dreams growing up, you would have never made the leap into moving here without him and his support. Tears filled your eyes once again as you remembered the only people you have to talk to would probably immediately send Chan over to your location. You hate yourself for wishing he was actually here, you hate how much you feel like you need his insight in what you should do but you did know he’d probably think of an answer logically without including his own emotions into whatever advice he’d give you. You sigh heavily as you lift yourself from the sand and make your way back to your car. Your phone in hand as the special ringtone you had set for Chan blared through the speaker. You almost chuckle to yourself at the irony; he finally called you right after you thought about how much you needed his help. You were relieved to see the comforting texts from his members after they had called but for those few hours you had been gone Chan hadn’t once called you. Pressing the green button you lift the phone to your ear hesitantly as you sit yourself in the drivers seat. .
You almost let out a sob as you heard his tear laced voice ring through your phone “Y-Y/N?” He questioned as he sniffled. You hear him struggling to catch his breath between his sobs “Y/N if you’re there you don’t have to say anything but please just listen..” he pleads, you could tell he was trying to calm his breathing “I-I’m so sorry, I know what you saw with that trainee looked really really bad…b-but I swear I don’t even know that girl. She is—was just a backup dancer for the Case 143 concept but since she made you and me uncomfortable we all agreed she can work with Itzy or Twice.” Your heart clenches at his caring nature which is why the girl still had a job in the first place. “But Her actions and my behavior wasn’t okay and I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that and I don’t want to make any excuses like I was angry because that doesn’t make it okay. I should have never gotten that violent, I should have just let you cool off and came to talk to you when we both had calmed down and. For that I’m so sorry and if you don’t want to be with me anymore I’d completely understand honestly I think you shouldn’t be with me anymore because what I did isn’t okay and I know that and i deserve for you to leave—ITS NOT LIKE YOU HIT ME OR ANYTHING!” You exclaim almost fuming at the way he was describing himself “it doesn’t matter. What I did was wrong and I don’t want you to justify it either. I was wrong to do that it makes me sick to my stomach knowing I could have really hurt you. Thank god I didn’t but what if I did? I wasn’t paying attention Y/N you could have gotten seriously hurt what would have happened if it hit you—but it didn’t” you cut him off once again, as tears rolled down your cheeks “Chan are you breaking up with me?” You hear a whimper release from his lips “Why would you want to be with a guy that almost hurt you physically?” He questions “you even said you wanted to get your stuff and leave me because of all this” he cries “why wouldn’t I want to protect you even if it’s from myself? I love you more than anything in this world and that’s why I don’t want you to forgive me because the idea of you getting hurt by my own hand makes me disgusted I can’t even look at you without feeling like shit knowing I really fucked this up” your heart cracks at the pain and guilt laced in his tone “you want to know why I do want to forgive you?” You ponder “You do?” He asks bewildered you give yourself a small sad smile before answering “yes, because if you were really the type to hurt me physically you wouldn’t feel like breaking up would be the best option, you think about things rationally and always put how I feel or could possibly feel first. You genuinely show that you care about me and it makes me know you’re a genuinely good person and that’s why I love you that’s why I want to be with you. Things were…intense to say the least but I do want to work things out soon maybe not today maybe not tomorrow but I do want to work things out with you and move on from this with you as your girlfriend” the line goes silent for a second “okay..b-but can I ask you something?” He asks hesitantly “yeah anything..” you reply instantly. “C-can we move on from this with you as my fiancé? I really didn’t want to propose like this but I really really want to marry you and I can’t imagine us breaking up without me at least asking you s-so that y-you do know my intentions” You can hear the hesitation and love in his words the question really throws you for a loop “C-can I answer you when I’m ready to come talk? I do want to be with you but I’d like to be proposed to properly I don’t want to remember the way we got engaged like this even though the answer is and will always be yes but for right now it’s a maybe later I love you Channie I’ll see you in couple days I promise..” you reply lovingly. You can almost hear the smile on his lips as he responds “I’d wait for you forever don’t worry I’ll see you soon my love and I’ll do it right next time I promise..”
Minho:
The smell of mildew filled your nose, the feeling of your bed is different. Your eyes are burning as they adjust to the fluorescent light, your eyes widen in shock. This isn’t your room. You look around in a panic as you throw the foreign blanket off you. You look around the room, you didn’t see a single window. The only furniture that was there was the bed you were seated on and a chair across the room facing where you were once sleeping. Where were you? You lift yourself from the bed and make your way toward the door, noticing your lack of pants and shoes you rush toward the door trying to twist and pull on the knob before slamming your fist into it repeatedly “HELLO?! HELLO?! IS ANYONE THERE?” You call as you continue to pound your fist on the door. Panic filling your body in a tidal wave you hear footsteps coming toward you “HELLO?! Who’s there?! PLEASE HELP ME!” You hear the person stop infront of the door as you try to open it again. “Hello?!” You call once more to the stranger finally realizing how much of a bad idea it was. You had no clue who was on the other side of that door. It could be the person that put you here. Were they going to hurt you? What did they want? You questioned to yourself, bile rose in your throat as you heard the slight ‘click’ from the lock and see the knob turn “W-wait!” You shout the door doesn’t move “A-are you going to hurt me?” You question pressing your ear to the door only to hear silence in return “please answer me” you plead the stranger knocks once “d-does that mean yes?” You question fear filling your tone. They knock once again “Does that mean no?” You hear two knocks in response “O-Okay…why am I here? Where am I?” You hear a heavy sigh on the other side of the door before they force it open.
Your eyes widen in shock and relief washes over you, as you’re greeted by your boyfriend. “Minho!” You exclaim tears almost streaming down your face as you rush over to him and wrap your arms around his neck burying your face in his neck “Thank god! Why did you do that why didn’t you answer me I’m so scared right now and you couldn’t just tell me what was going on? What happened why am I here how’d I get here? Where are my clothes?” You question as you pull back noticing the stoic expression on his face “I took them” he states matter of factly. “W-why?” You question slowly removing yourself from from him “so you can’t leave of course” he smiles sinisterly. Your mouth hanging open in shock “what? You did this to me so I can’t leave?” He smiles once more the light that always sat in his eyes now gone their almost soulless. “Min what’s going on? Something seems off” you question nervously as you take a step back away from him “you think it’s okay to break up with me? I think it’s quite okay that I prevent that. You told me to not come back to see you anymore. I can’t just let that happen, it’s okay you just have to stay here; I’ll take care of you baby, don’t worry.” He says taking a small step toward you as he placed a pout on his lips “can’t you hug me again? I wasn’t ready so I really didn’t get to hold you like I wanted” his hand caresses your cheek “what do you mean I just have to stay here? What about my apartment? My job? My friends and family?” You question. Minho smiles sickeningly “That’s the best part baby everyone already thinks you’re either dead or missing at the very least. It’s okay I made everything look very believable and it won’t be linked to me or anything I am really sorry that I did have to collect your blood a little, I know you’re scared of needles that’s why I put those pills in your drink so you would sleep through it cause I know you’d be scared but, because I needed everyone to think you’d died in the ordeal but you can’t even feel it can you? I really did a great job right baby? Now we can be together and nothing is wrong anymore everything is fine. I mean it will suck to have to act really sad around my members knowing you’re alive but I have to so they don’t think something is wrong didn’t I do good baby? I’ll always do great things for you and now you can be free from those burdens, I’ll take care of you. You can live here it’s a house I know about that’s underground you can walk around it as you like. I’m sorry I locked you in here but you were sleeping and I didn’t want you to possibly sleep walk or anything because that was one of the side effects—you’re fucking crazy” you cut him off in shock at his admissions. “What the hell is wrong with you?” You growl. Fear grows in your stomach as his façade drops the smile quickly gone from his lips turning into a straight line.
“Fine then I guess you can’t go around as you like. And if you try to run I’ll cut your Achilles tendon look I don’t want to have to do it this way but you’re not giving me a choice so go lay on your bed and think about what you said to me and fucking fix it when I come back with food for you. I love you so I don’t want to have to leave you in here for too long, but I am an Idol you know? things like random world tours can come up and be there for months on end so who would take care of you if I decide to leave you here while I go? Either figure out if you want to be truly like the old you and die in a bloody gory death. If you be good and listen to me like you used to then I’ll be just as good to you. I don’t want to hurt you nor does the idea appeal me honestly it makes me nauseous but I’ll do what I have to. Be good lay down and just let me love you the way only I can. There’s no one else for you anyway it’s us for the rest of our lives babe and if you have a problem with that, well I’ll take Stockholm Syndrome even if it’s your own brain tricking you into loving me again just so you can dissociate from this. I’ll take it but if you act like this again we will have an issue.” He threatens tilting his head to the side taking a step toward you “Do you want there to be an issue?” You shake your head in response “O-of course not, Min I-I was just surprised by what you said. I’m just mad you had to use a needle on me but I really appreciate all the effort you went through, y-you did well I promise. Im not mad at you im sorry for trying to break up with you I won’t ever do it again but Min I don’t want to stay here let me go with you.” You force out, you felt like throwing up at the softness of your tone. “I’m sorry baby you have to stay here but if you’re really not mad come here give me a kiss let me hold you.” You pout at his words “p-please min I don’t want to be left here don’t leave me here please I’ll be good ill listen to your rules can’t I just be with you all the time? C-can’t I just live with you? I’m scared please Min” you plead, you felt disgusted with yourself begging him but you could tell he’s unstable and you didn’t know what he was truly capable of but you knew this was not going to end well if you didn’t listen to him. Bringing yourself closer to him you place your lips on his feeling his arms wrap around you and you could almost pretend like things were how they used to be.
Changbin:
Waking up in a panic you look around the room, almost worrying when you didn’t find Changbin sleeping beside you. The events from the night previous replay in your mind as you lift yourself from the bed. A sharp sting spreads throughout your back. You groan in pain, the door shooting open at the sound. “Y/N, are you okay?” Changbin rushes into the room in a frenzy. You stare at him bewildered, “yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” You question almost sarcastically. You finally notice his disheveled state, the ghost of the trails of tears that streamed down his face. The scabs and bruises on his knuckles, you’re eyes widen in shock seeing his hands. Almost like a reflex you rush out of bed and grab his hand “What happened?!” You question worriedly taking his hand in yours .“I’m an asshole….” He states with a pout on his lips. “What? What happened to your hand Binnie? Are you okay?” He removes his hand from your grasp. “I’m a disgusting person…I was mad that I-sigh- I was mad that I hurt you s-so I punched the wall” you’re eyes widen “YOU PUNCHED THE WALL?!” You exclaim. “I fixed it after I made a hole in it. I have to paint it but it’s fixed” he murmurs. “DO YOU REALLY THINK I CARE ABOUT THAT FUCKING WALL? ILL DEMOLISH IT IF I WANTED TO WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” You growl at him anger growing in your gut at the idea of him hurting himself. “I deserved it.” He states matter of factly. “Honestly I deserve worse. I’m sorry, but when you were sleeping I checked on your back and put some ointment on it but it’s a really big bruise. S-seeing it….I wanted to die. I hate myself for doing that to you. I got really mad at myself and it just happened. I’m so sorry, you don’t understand how much I said it when you were sleeping but I need you to know I’m really sorry and that it won’t happen again because-sigh-Y/N I think we should break up.” He sobs. You stare at him. “What? You want to break up? W-why? I won’t be clingy or harass you anymore I love you I don’t want to break up” you cry.
It was his turn to be shocked “Y/N I hurt you. I gave you a huge bruise on your back. I put my hands on you which is something I never thought I’d do. I can’t be with you knowing I did that and honestly I’m disappointed you would just let it go. Don’t make excuses for me, don’t try to justify it because there is no justification. I can’t redeem myself from this—yes you can—No I can’t you may be able to forgive me but I won’t be able to forgive myself. Look at your back Y/N! Actually fucking look at it I look like a domestic abuser. It makes me fucking sick!” He snaps. Your heart feels like it’s being ripped right from your chest and dangled infront of you. “Bin I love you I don’t want to break up we can figure things out. We can fix this. My back will heal” you go to grab his hand again “but the trauma from it won’t. Not right away.” He states sadly as he takes a step back. You let out a whimper “please we can work through this I love you. I know you’re going to be disappointed that I want to forgive you. But look at you right now I know you wouldn’t do it again you look like you hate yourself right now. You are beating yourself up already why would I pour salt on that wound I’m sorry but you’re not breaking up with me I’m the one that got hurt I’m the one with the bruise on my back so I’m the one that gets to make this decision and we’re not breaking up.” You see the disappointment on his face “Y/N.—no we’re not breaking up if that’s what you want to say then I don’t want to hear it” you argue placing your hands on your ears. A pout etched onto your lips as you stare at him with tear filled eyes. You shake your head at him. A small sad smile spreads across his lips. “Okay. You win we won’t break up. Im happy you’re quite stubborn and strong willed when it comes to people you love. But I am disappointed you would forgive someone that hurt you physically…” His tone is soft and caring. You feel the anxiety of a break up dwindling as you wrap your arms around Changbins neck placing soft kisses against his cheek. “I love you, you’ll forgive yourself in time with me by your side okay?”
Hyunjin:
“It’s just a sprain. Rest it for 48 hours and take your anti-inflammatory. And keep the splint on for a week or two as it is only a Grade 1 sprain. Come back if the pain gets any worse or if it seems like the swelling isn’t going down.” The doctor informed as he handed you your discharge paperwork. You nod along before making your way out of the hospital. You’re not excited about going home, the drive here was excruciatingly painful but at least your wrist is splinted. You couldn’t believe how Hyunjin reacted. How could he hurt you like that? The thought of the events earlier in the afternoon made you fee nauseous, how could the guy you loved for the past year choose his crazy ‘best friend’ over you? You had allowed Yerim’s antics to go on for too long based on her friendship with Hyunjin. Pulling into your driveway you’re quite pissed to see Hyunjins car still there. Meaning they were both still here. Your blood boiled as you forced yourself out of your car locking it behind you as you make your way to the door. Before you could enter your code into the pad, the door is forced open. You’re greeted with the sight of a disheveled Hyunjin. Tears streaming down his face, his sobs growing worse and worse with the glare you had directed at him. You roll your eyes as you shove past him, seeing his suitcase that was once under your bed now in the living room right beside the couch a complete lack of Yerims presence lingered. “W-wait! Please…” his whimpers between his sniffles as he wipes his face on his sleeves. “Wait for what Hyunjin? You weren’t supposed to be here when I got back remember? It seems your friend knows how to listen properly but you can’t.” You growl your mouth pulled into a harsh line, as you clenched your jaw. “I-I know but how could I just leave? I tried okay? I tried to listen to you I packed my stuff even though I didn’t want to I just—I couldn’t leave knowing you’re hurt. I couldn’t leave knowing that I may never get to see you again and I know it’s selfish but I have to try to fix this. I didn’t know what Yerim said but if it’s anything like what she tried to do then I’m sorry I never realized. I’m sorry I never knew the things Yerim did to you…b-but I do now! I swear I know the truth now and I’m sorry I should have never pushed you I should have listened to what happened.. a-and I would have probably done worse to Yerim if she said the things to me that she said to you.” He cries as he makes his way over to you stopping right infront of you he tries to caress your cheek. You flinch at his action, and a pout forms on his lips as he hesitantly places his hand back at his side “how’d you find out?” You question your eyes finally meeting his “cause there’s a reason I never told you”
His eyebrows scrunch together “does it matter how I found out? And why? Why would never tell me? How long has she been harassing you with that bullshit because that’s what it is. It’s bullshit! I never once slept with her. I never once told her I loved her, she was my best friend and I saw her like a sister and when she tried to throw herself on me when you had left I just lost my shit and realized what was going on.” He explained with tears streaming down his face. A heavy sigh is released from his lips and his current state is enough to send your heart into the morgue. “Jinnie—She was fucking pissed that I supposedly was choosing you over her but she doesn’t realize how many times you probably feel like I chose her over you. You should have told me but that doesn’t excuse what I did to you and I’m so fucking sorry Y/N. I really am, a-and if you let me I’ll make it up to you. Yerim is gone she’s out of my life she means nothing to me if she could try to ruin something that she knows I’ve dedicated myself to. She knew I wanted to marry you. She came with me to pick the ring for when I proposed but in the end even her attempts didn’t ruin anything. You knew she was bullshitting. In the end, I ruined everything but I will fix it. I’ll make it up to you I want to be with you I love you and I’m so fucking sorry” He cut you off dropping to his knees and holding your good hand in both of his “if you forgive me for this it will never happen again. I’m so sorry that I pushed you. I’m so sorry I let my anger get the better of me because you are right I heard her tell you those things and I heard you defend me and I don’t know I couldn’t think and I got mad. But if it makes you feel any better I pushed her too probably a lot worse than I pushed you and I told her I want nothing to do with her anymore I think she got the message cause she slapped the shit out of me and left” you’re eyes widen at his confession your hand instinctively lifting his face inspecting his cheek seeing the fading red mark. “I’ll fucking kill her she did what?!” You growl “she hit you?” You rush past him grabbing your keys only to be halted by Hyunjin grabbing your hand “it’s fine I deserved it for what I did to you” he comforts, your eyebrows raise “yeah and if anyone deserves to hit you it’d be me not her and I didn’t nor would I want to hit you let alone allow some slut to do the same thing to MY boyfriend. Don’t try to stop me cause I’m going to fuck her up Hyunjin” you notice the way his face lit up “Am I?” You shake your head at him in confusion “are you what?” He bites his lip as he stared at the ground “Am I still your boyfriend? What I did was really really bad…and I don’t feel like I deserve to call myself that anymore since you told me to leave” you look at him feeling a little guilty, whilst you did indeed tell him to pack his shit and leave you are kind of relieved he didn’t listen. While you didn’t enjoy the fact that he pushed you, his loyalty and the love he has for the people around him is what drew you to him in the first place. If Yerim wasn’t such a bitch and didn’t antagonize the issue then this wouldn’t have happened and yes, while he shouldn’t have pushed you he thought he was protecting his childhood friend.
“I’d like to think you still are…I-if you still want to be—more than anything I want to be your boyfriend more than I want to be an idol at this very moment” he cuts you off looking at you with hope. You bite your bottom lip and wrap your arms around his neck. You hear a sigh of relief release from his throat as he holds you against him as if you’d disappear when he let go. “Thank god….I love you so much I’m so sorry you won’t regret this I promise” he cries as he buries his face in your neck. You smile slightly pulling your head back to look at your sad puppy of a boyfriend pressing your lips against his. He kisses you passionately before you pull away “But if I ever see Yerim it’s on sight. She doesn’t have the right to put her hands on you just for rejecting her. She’s going to get her ass whooped and you won’t be able to stop me…”
#stray kids angst#skz angst#stray kids fluff#hyunjin angst#stray kids smut#bang chan angst#skz bang chan#bang chan fluff#skz changbin#skz hyunjin#hyunjin make up#stray kids hyung line angst#skz minho angst#SKZ Minho yandere#changbin angst#SKZ Minho fluff#changbin fluff#hyunjin fluff
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Heart drawings (Trafalgar Law x GN!Reader)
Pov: After finishing your duties you end up hanging out with Law during his work but end up getting bored which results in you adding a little something to your captain's skin.
Warning: too much fluff (go get some insulin), reader has (implied) ADHD symptoms
You had never been known to be a person that could sit still for long, whether it was moving your leg around or playing with something in your hand you had to always be doing something or else your brain would go insane, which got you to offer your helping hand in a lot of situations once you joined the Heart pirates.
However there would always be days, like today, that there was not much you could do even if you asked to, so you had to stick to reading or studying for the most part after you finished your daily duties.
You were in your room reading a few of the medicine books that your Captain , Trafalgar Law, had generously lent you for your free time, however well... You were struggling... And a lot.
"Wait... What was I reading...?" You grunted, this was the third time in a row you had read the words on the book only to forget seconds later what exactly you had read with great speed. You were getting irritated. You wanted to learn more about how to create different types of medicine so that you could help your crew but your brain was having a hard time concentrating, you rubbed the bridge of your nose with annoyance.
"I need a break..." You muttered as you softly closed the book, a light tap from the cover giving you the signal that you could head off.
You wandered around for a while looking for something to do, many of your crewmates were already hanging out with each other, chatting, drinking and some even helping out to clean the medical bay, you wanted to offer a helping hand in hopes of entertaining your inevitable boredom.
"hey, what are you guys doing?" You asked softly approaching Sachi and Bepo who were cleaning a few medical supplements, the latter turning to look at you.
"Oh, we were just cleaning and sharpening some of our usual tools in case we get an emergency" Bepo tilted his head slightly "Did you need anything Y/N?"
You smiled at the sweet gesture of Bepo, shaking your head slightly at his question "Nope, I was just wondering if you guys needed any help"
Bepo looked over at the different tools placed in display, seeming to think about your question a bit too much before turning to look at you with an apologetic look on his face "Not really... I'm so sorry"
He apologized as usual, his tone shifting to a more melancholic one making you chuckle nervously, you never enjoyed seeing him like this but he was just so sweet that you understood where this attitude of his came from, you shook your hands in front of you in a way of excusing yourself, almost as if the one that had to be apologizing should be you "No no it's okay, no need to apologize Bepo..." His eyes lit up with relief as you didn't seem mad at him for rejecting your help, it made you feel relieved yourself.
You sighed deeply with a soft smile "Anyway, good luck you too" Sachi smiled at you warmly as well as Bepo
"Thank you! We'll make sure that everything is right! Oh..." You were about to leave when Sachi's words seemed to try and stop you in your tracks "If you go see the captain tell him we are lacking some oxygen tanks".
Your eyes widened at his words, why did he think you were going to see the captain? Out of shock you just nodded with a soft but shy smile "Sure thing, I'll make sure to inform him once I see him" with those last words you waved at the duo and walked away.
A sigh escaped your lips as you kept walking, you didn't originally intend to see your Captain but now thanks to Sachi and Bepo you sort of had an excuse... Right? You made your way through the cold but oddly comforting halls of the Polar Tang, you had not been here for long but these halls had definitely grown on you... Maybe they weren't the best looking but the people around them made it feel like a home to you.
You finally arrived at the office door of your captain, you were a tad bit nervous to interrupt him but... You had a job to do so you might as well shake that nervousness off and knock, which you did.
"Come in..." A light husky voice invited you inside, you breathed softly.
"Please excuse me..." You muttered before placing your hand in the door handle and opened it, a light creak welcoming you inside to the sight of your captain with big eyebags under his eyes as he drowned in paperwork, he didn't even raise his eyesight to acknowledge you "Yes? What is it Y/N-ya?".
You took a deep breath before speaking.
"Sachi informed me that we are short of oxygen tanks"
"Oh right... Write it down on the paper list and we'll get some more on the next island..."
He didn't even budge, and honestly neither did you... You knew that after this interaction you wouldn't have much to do later which made you a bit sad... So you just stood there, staring at your captain for a bit. He seemed to notice it, after all an exasperated sigh escaped his lips, his grey eyes slowly rising to look at you with a piercing cold gaze "Anything else?" He spoke, cold and firmly, questioning why you were still there in the first place... That should have been the end of your interaction, informing him was the only reason you came in there after all, right? Then why didn't you respond...? Your mind started racing...
"Captain..." Before you were fully aware of your actions you took a step forward and spoke "Do you... Mind if I stay for a bit?"
You caught a glimpse of surprise in your Captain's eyes, those grey spheres seeming to warm up for a moment at your offer. But just as quickly as it appeared it went away only for his attention to shift back to his paperwork.
"I... I'm sorry..." You were quick to apologize, your voice wavering ever so slightly
"I didn't mean to--"
"Go on."
You froze "What...?"
"I said you can stay..."
His words snapped you back to reality, he was... Allowing you to stay, you had no space for words, you just nodded and moved a chair over next to his desk taking a seat politely next to him as he kept on working.
He didn't budge at all, if anything it seemed like his concentration increased thanks to your presence, the mere idea made you happy as you sat there next to him.
Unfortunately you started getting bored once more, as thrilling as it was watching your captain work through his paperwork with graze, not budging at all, it had gotten boring after a few minutes.
You started looking around finding yourself with a pen, you softly took it into your hands and started fiddling with it... Suddenly, an idea sparked in your brain. You took the cap off it and started scribbling in your hand, trying to see if the pen was smooth enough to draw on your soft skin, you smiled brightly once you confirmed your suspicions: it was a good pen and it drew a perfect black ray on your skin with ease.
Once you discovered this you started drawing on your hands, starting off with a skeletal hand to practice the location of different bones in the hand to less professional stuff like hearts and small animals. You were entertained by your own scribbles when all of a sudden you were interrupted by Law grunting and leaning backwards on his chair.
He had his left arm laid across the chair, his tattooed hand dangling in the air, while his right arm stroked his face with obvious frustration. You stared at him then back at the pen you were holding, slowly but steadily a smirk formed on your lips.
Without a warning you scooted closer to your Captain, he didn't even realize you were closer to him until he felt your hands take a hold of his left arm, he flinched but didn't move his arm at all... They say curiosity killed the cat ... And curiosity had definitely gotten to him as he looked at you take his arm with your hand and start passing the pen around his skin in delicate but firm traces.
"What are you doing?" He questioned with a furrowed expression
"Drawing" you spoke bluntly as you focused on the piece of art that you were doing in his arm "I got bored..."
Your response caught him off guard, his eyes wide as he stared at you for a bit. A small smile formed on his lips "I need to check your medical record..."
His soft tone was like a way of signaling you something...of what he really meant: he didn't mind you drawing on him... You looked over at him for a moment only to smile and return to your drawing, you didn't know much what you were doing you just followed your heart as you scribbled. Slowly but steadily the drawing took form into a star surrounded by wavy lines that formed what almost looked like a tattoo design, you even went out of your way to draw small hearts, a secret confession of your feelings to your Captain (not that he would notice... Right?) You leaned back with a satisfied smile as you looked at your work, you looked over at Law who seemed entranced into one of his books, he hadn't budged during your whole art process. Once you leaned back he hummed softly, his eyes never leaving his book at all "You done?" He asked politely, you nodded.
"Yeah I did!"
"Good... My arm was starting to fall asleep..."
You couldn't help but laugh at his snarky comment "At least you now got another cool tattoo"
He huffed with a slight smirk "Doubt it..." You acted offended at his words giving him a light push on his shoulder winning a soft laugh from him.
"You haven't even seen it!"
"I don't need to..."
"Oh come on... You have seen my drawings!"
A soft chuckle was the only response you got, it made you smile, although he acted as if he probably didn't like it you knew that he did... Or that's what you'd like to believe...
And trust me he did...
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
A few days after the drawing incident you were wandering around the Polar Tang heading to the kitchen to get something to eat as you were pretty hungry.
You waltzed around when a characteristic husky voice caught your attention in an instant, it came from the kitchen. Following the voice you peaked through the door finding your captain talking with Penguin about something you didn't quite catch, all you knew was that it was something serious judging by Law's and Penguin's expression.
You stood there for a bit waiting for the right moment to enter when all of a sudden you noticed a small detail on your Captain's left arm, your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed a light pink...
What did you see?
Well, you saw your drawing tattooed onto his arm... That was the only reasonable explanation as to why it still looked so bright and vivid, after all a few days had passed since you did it and unless Law had taken extreme care of it it should have already been at least a little bit vanished, just like the drawings you did on your own skin from that same day.
Penguin was walking away once he had finished speaking to Law, which was your signal to pounce.
You slowly made your way towards Law catching his attention once you were hovering behind him, he glanced at him over his shoulder "Y/N-ya...?"
His question was left in the air once you took his left arm rising it to your face, much to his surprise, you scanned the drawing carefully confirming your suspicions: he had indeed tattooed it onto his skin. You turned to look to a flustered Law with a bright smile.
"You actually tattooed my drawing?!" You asked in both surprise and excitement, Law covered his face with his hand, a blush creeping its way to his cheeks in an instant
"Shut up..."
You laughed.
Maybe you should draw on him more often when you get bored...
#trafalgar law#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece fanfiction#trafalgar law x y/n#trafalgar one piece#one piece fic#trafalgar law x reader#one piece fluff#one piece scenario#oneshot#trafalgardwaterlaw#trafalgar d law x reader
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You fall asleep on their shoulder (Suguru Geto, Nanami Kento, Aoi Todo)
They have a major crush on you and you fall asleep on their shoulder.
Suguru Geto: He wasn't the most fond of you, it wasn't a secret to anyone around. At least that was what he lead everyone to believe, even you. No matter how kind you were, it only seemed to anger him more and you just couldn't figure out why. You felt like he truly hated you, so much so even sitting next to him made you uncomfortable.
Though these were the car seats that were left and you found yourself smiling at Geto none the less. You couldn't be mean to him even if you tried, even though he rolled his eyes and looked the other way. His broad shoulders pressed into yours, not giving you a lot of space in your seat. It didn't bother you but you couldn't imagine how much he was disturbed at simply having to touch you.
You couldn't have been more wrong, his heart was pounding in his chest and he was trying his hardest not to look at you. He was always wondering how you could be so nice to him when he felt he didn't deserve it. Those thoughts ran through his mind as he tried to look at anything except for you. He had to try his best to not flinch when he felt your head drop on his shoulder.
Geto turned his head slowly, looking at you sound asleep on his shoulder. His heart rate increased once more, taking in just how comfortable you looked using him as a pillow. It made him think about allowing this to happen more often, maybe allowing himself to soften around you. He may have not deserved you being so kind to him, but you most definitely deserved the kindness in return.
"You deserve more than I can give you."
Nanami Kento: Kento would have been lying to himself if he said he didn't feel anything for you. Watching someone work as a sorcerer wasn't something he had felt as being attractive, not until he met you. Your fighting style was graceful, like a dance almost and when you were made to be his partner, he was relieved to see you knew what you were doing.
He would never act on his feelings, though. No, it was unprofessional to do so. So he would admire from afar and instead of doing something romantic like would prefer too, he'd step up and do his job if he saw you needed saving. It was the most he could do for you and he would do the most for you.
The job had come to a close and you were both waiting to debrief, exhaustion and pain slowly setting into your bodies from the grueling fight that you had barely survived. You were exhausted to say the least, goosebumps coating your skin leaving you to shiver. It seemed like second nature, to lean into Nanami. His body heat and large stature being comforting as you dozed off.
He was aware of what was happening, the light weight of your head dropping on his shoulder and he knew he should have woken you up. He just couldn't bring himself to do so, leaning down a little further so you could get more comfortable. Normally he wouldn't do this, give in to his emotions like this. But he was tired too, physically, emotionally and he needed the comfort too.
"Just for a few minutes, just a few. Only because today was hard."
Aoi Todo: Todo was anything but quiet. The man was outspoken, said the first thing on his mind always. It was the way he was with everyone, everyone except you. He was bubbly and open with everyone but closed off the second you came around. Todo just didn't know how to act around you, to him you were even prettier than Takada.
For a change, you and Todo were sent to fight a curse and while you knew he was good at the job, you were worried. You hadn't worked together much and well, he didn't communicate with you like he did with the rest of the team. It couldn't be so bad right? If he just hardly talked to you at all, it wouldn't slip that he liked you, right? Well while that was technically true, the lack of communucation nearly got you killed.
He wracked with regret, looking at you sitting silently next to him. You might have been fine in the end, hardly a scratch on you but Todo was tenser than ever. Simply watching you as you started to drift off in the car next to him. You rested your head on his shoulder and mumbled something before fully falling asleep. "It's not your fault Todo."
His heart pounded in his chest, wrapping a comforting arm around you and pulling you further into him. You still trusted him enough to sleep on him and you didn't blame him for what happened. Todo knew he was being stupid about this, letting this effect the way he worked. When you woke up, he'd talk to you, but for now he'd let you rest as an apology.
"I should have been protecting you out there, not risking your life with my stupidity."
A/N: my first jjk reaction. I hope you all enjoy it! Remember my JJK requests are open, check my pinned post for the rules.
Send me a request!
#jujutsu kaisen x reader#geto suguru#geto suguru x reader#nanami kento#nanami kento x reader#aoi todo#aoi todo x reader
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hi, <3
I've been working for a week now, so I don't have time to send you ideas, but there are SO MANY in my head.😭😭😭 I do not know what to do!!!I think you've already guessed that I'm in love with Nanami's dad!! He's so cute as the father figure.Imagine that Kento and his wife had their first child (a girl) and when Kento comes home to his daughter and wife, he sees that his daughter is wearing a small bodysuit with the text “I love daddy” and Nanami just looks and is touched. DADNANAMIDADNANAMIDADNANAMI🤤🫦
Okay I cried my eyes out while writing this and the cover sent me over the edge 😭 But THANK YOU SO MUCH for that precious request my love, let me know what you think <3
Nanami's reaction to his daughter wearing a jumper saying "I love daddy"
Pairing: Nanami x wife!reader; Nanami x fem!daughter
Word Count: 1,3k
Synopsis: After the incidents of Shibuya and his wife getting severely injured, Nanami is relieved to know his new family safe and sound. A little suprise from his precious wife seems to be enough to make a grown man cry in joy though...
Warnings: cuteness overload, this had me balling in the best way, might be the comfort you need this is canon
This is like a spin-off to the "Haruta seeking revenge on Nanami's heavy pregnant wife" fic - just click on it to read it first!
To say the last few months were a trip to heaven and hell at the same time would be an understatement. Despite the horror the Shibuya incident caused, even though the attack of Haruta left both you and your precious baby to risk, you somehow made it all out alive. Kento, you and the little angel of daughter you gave birth to exactly one month after Shibuya.
“I’ll leave in five minutes, regardless of what you have to tell me afterwards”, he sends towards the man in front of him who is asking him for the hundredth time about the Shibuya incident.
Finally, this way too long day is over. A day without seeing you the whole time, a day without his little one by his side. Due to the fact that delivering your baby girl was rather difficult after the severe wound wasn’t healed yet, Shoko prescribed strict bed rest for you within the next few months. You are barely able to stand up on your own, let alone go to the toilet. Most of the time you lay on the couch with your daughter by your side, watching your favourite show on TV until you greet him with the brightest of smiles.
But even though every minor step causes you visible pain and it’s hard for you to be on your own, you insisted on him continuing doing his job. After all, somebody has to take care of poor Yuji when you’re not around. And since Gojo is gone, whole Jujutsu High seems to be an endless mess. Yes, somehow you did eventually convince him of leaving you every single morning. Even though he hates letting go of you after what happened not long ago.
“I will leave now”, he announces before grabbing his suitcase and walking away without waiting for an answer.
In the meantime, it’s hard for you to sit still.
“Come on angel, please hold still for a second. We just need leg number one, leg number two, and…There you go!”
Your eyes almost overflow with joy, just staring at the tiny jumper your daughter wears makes you feel emotional all over again. Kento worked so much these last weeks, making sure that especially Yuji feels better after all those things that happened to him during Shibuya. And the fact that you’ve got severely injured…You’ll never forget the look of horror on his face when you collapsed into his arms, Shoko making it just in time before everything went black. For the split of a second you thought everything is over, that this will be the last time you’ve seen your husband. Oh, how you begged Shoko to save the life of your unborn child instead of yours, how you held onto Kento’s hand for dear life.
But seeing that bundle of joy laying in front of you, giggling happily while kicking her tiny feet in her brand-new jumper…You have to read the words all over again, the simple writing that says “I love daddy”. You were mindlessly scrolling through baby stuff when it caught your attention, thinking about how your beloved husband would react to it. There was absolutely no way out of ordering it.
“Daddy will love to see you in this.”
Just the thought of how Kento will react makes you kick your feet too, smiling down at your giggling daughter. Even though every little movement sends a wave of pain through your entire body, you try to stay as positive as possible. The discomfort will go away eventually, but the joy Kento has gifted you with will stay forever.
You can sense him before he put the key into the lock right away, heart pounding so hard that it feels like jumping out of your body.
“This is out time angel”, you whisper into your daughter’s tiny ear before sitting up and staring at the door in sheer excitement.
Nanami’s heart skips a beat when seeing you, looking so adorable dressed in his way too big t-shirt and sweatpants.
“What are you smiling about, sweetheart?”
The second he lays his eyes on your flawless face decorated with that breath-taking smile, he is lost all over again. But by now it’s not only you who awaits him. No, next to you curled up on the couch lays the little bundle of joy that makes his happiness complete.
“I’m just so glad your back! How-ah…”
A minor groan escapes your lips as you try to sit up straight, Kento instantly rushing to your side.
“Hey, think about what Shoko said. No need to rush, we have the whole evening for ourselves, darling”, he gently speaks out, his hands caressing your back moderately.
He hasn’t seen it yet, the blanket on top of your daughter hiding the jumper very well from him. But you can’t contain your excitement any longer. For a moment, you’ll have to put your aching aside.
“Actually, there’s something I wanted to show you…”
Your husband tilts his head to the side, a tender smile creeping up his face before he can stop it. You look so utterly excited that he can’t help but wonder what you mean.
“I wonder what leaves you this excited.”
“Well, there aren’t many things apart from you that get me excited”, you reply with a sly grin.
“But maybe you should take a closer look at your daughter.”
Your heartbeat picks up even more as soon as he looks at your precious little angel, hand gently brushing over her tiny cheek. Slowly, he lifts her off the couch, blanket falling down and revealing her new jumper. You hold your breath, your husband’s eyes locked onto her body.
“I love daddy”, he reads out loud.
His smile widens, eyes turning glossy in pure admiration. Oh, how much he adores you, how much he loves you in every single way. Why does he suddenly turn this emotional? Why does the sheer sight of his daughter with a jumper saying “I love daddy” make him tear up? The last months were so rough on him, it was never granted that he’ll be able to hold his daughter like this while you sit next to him. For a few horrible seconds, he thought he lost you both.
But now you’re here. And you really think that he’s a good dad.
“Words can’t express how much that means to me…”, he mumbles, pressing his daughter against his chest and closing his eyes.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to make you cry love”, you instantly reply while getting up from the couch way too quickly.
Your husband catches you just in time before you fall back onto the couch, his free hand wrapped tightly around your waist while his daughter rests against his shoulder.
“You are the best thing that ever happened to me, (y/n). And to top it all off, you gifted me this beautiful daughter. You are so strong, I am so proud of everything you have done these last few months.”
His words his you in your feelings with full force. Despite the fact that you are a strong and composed woman, tears start to stream down your face like a waterfall while your gaze never leaves his. God, how much you love that man, how thankful you are for the fact that he survived. And for the bundle of joy that rests against his shoulder. You never thought your life would turn out like this, eventually. A snack of a husband holding you tightly in one hand while carrying your daughter with the other.
“I love you, Kento Nanami. That jumper says nothing but the truth”, you hush lightly.
Oh, Kento will definitely make sure of that.
“I love you too, sweetheart. And you, my little angel.”
Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345
@polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#nanami fanfic#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#jujutsu nanami#nanami my beloved#nanami kento#kento nanami#gege when i catch you gege#nanamin#daddy nanami#nanami x wife#jjk kento nanami#kento x reader#kento x y/n#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jjk kento#kento x you#kento x wife#jujutsu kaisen shibuya arc#shibuya#jjk season 2#jujutsu#jjk s2#jjk imagines#jjk fanfic
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dark!joel miller dbf that comforts innocent!reader when she’s feeling lonely and sad but he can’t control himself and he coerces/manipulates her into him using her to relieve himself. pet names, condescending joel, breeding kink, the works 🫶🏼
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A/N: This might be my darkest filth to date. Thanks to anon for making me explore this side… it is definitely one of my favorite things to read, so let’s see if I’m good at writing it.
Summary: Joel, your dad’s best friend, finds you in your room crying and wants to comfort you.
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), dub-con, pet names, innocence kink, age gap, clit stim, dirty talk, piv sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, dad’s best friend
Word count: 3k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48393787
Switch
When Joel enters your parents’ house, he is surprised to find the door unlocked, but with no one inside. He calls out for your father then, moments later, your mother, before realizing that no one is going to answer.
It’s only when he is about to leave again that he notices your annoyingly cute shoes by the front door. He smiles, unaware that you would be on a visit to your hometown this weekend. It also means that he can start his search for the keys to the car that he has agreed to lend over the next couple of days.
… but they’re nowhere to be found, and the thought of you being somewhere in the house makes a manhunt seem more fun. He could ask you, he decides, yes, a very good idea.
You wipe your tears with the back of your hand as you hear the first knock on your door. It is a frantic movement that serves no purpose except to make your face seem even redder with how much pressure you use to remove the tear streaks as well.
“Come in,” you say nonchalantly, turning on your spinning chair to face the door with a brave face.
Joel presses down the handle and gently pushes the door open. He sticks his head inside, “Hey sweetheart, didn’t know you were home from college. I’m just tryna find the car keys. Your old man said they’d be—“
He notices your red face and his brows knit together in parental concern. He walks into your childhood bedroom and closes the door behind him, “How’s college treatin’ ya? Made any friends?”
Your bottom lip trembles a little. Joel thinks it might be the saddest and most precious thing he has ever seen, wanting to snap a picture of the pouty face you are making as you try to stop yourself from crying.
“It’s horrible, Joel,” you confess and the tears start spilling uncontrollably, “I feel awkward. Out of place and boring—“
“Hey,” Joel immediately strides across the room, a pang in his stomach telling him to soothe you, “What’re you talking about?”
“I feel less lonely alone in my childhood bedroom,” you let out a little laugh as you cry, but Joel just wipes a few tears from your eyes, and you help him by catching the ones threatening to drip down from your chin. It’s a nice little gesture to feel him soothe you, and you lean into the touch for just a moment to acknowledge what he is doing.
“Kiddo,” he tuts, watches you rest your hands in your lap as he cups your face. It gives him the opportunity to slide his hand down your cheek to hold your chin with his thumb and index finger. He tips your head back to gain eye contact with you, “You’re a smart girl. Anyone would be lucky to have ya barging into their lives. Just gotta do it. No need to cry.”
“Easy for you to say. I never had to win you over,” you try to stifle the sob that’s going to spill from your throat, but it comes out in a croak anyway.
Joel’s face softens even more. He wants to do whatever he can to make you stop crying, deciding to hold out his arms, “C’mere, kiddo.”
You get up from your seat at the desk and step into his arms, letting your forehead rest against his shoulder and your arms along your sides. He chuckles slightly, chest rumbling a little, and kisses the top of your head, “Attagirl. There, there.”
You don’t register the flip of a switch inside of him before it is too late, starting with the sniff of your hair that sets off something primal in Joel. It’s vanilla. Dumb, innocent, Girl Scout-esque vanilla. You smell like fucking vanilla, and the sweetness has him inhale deeply as he realizes that he has been holding his breath.
It makes the sweet scent fill his nostrils once again, and, unsurprisingly, has him hard within mere seconds. He pokes into your thigh, and you look down with a loud gasp and the redness in your cheeks isn’t caused by crying anymore.
“Joel,” you sound confused, unable to find a proper way to respond to the situation.
Joel makes a decision then. He lets his arms unwrap from you and reaches down to undo your jeans, fumbling only for a moment with the button until getting to the zipper.
“What are you doing?” Your eyes widen. Even moreso when he sticks a hand in your pants.
“Nothing, I’m just tryna make you feel better, sweetheart,” he replies, smiling softly at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as they’ve darkened with lust. When he swipes his fingers over your clit, your gasp turns into a moan and you grab onto him. Joel is in heaven, “There we go. Ain’t that better?”
“We shouldn’t—“ you argue, but Joel’s fingers grind harder against your clit, and heat starts to rise between your legs.
“Shhh, shut up for a second and let yourself enjoy this. Betcha stupid college boys can’t make you come like I will in just a moment.”
You moan a little louder, shaking your head both to answer his postulate and to tell him to stop, “But Joel… Ah.”
Joel knows he shouldn’t, but you were waltzing around in a bikini this summer, and he hates you for growing up to be such a fine young woman. He cannot stop thinking about you in the red one with high legs, barely covering your ass and sending an old dog like himself to fuck his hand in his best friend’s bathroom. He deserves this after all this time.
His fingers move back and forth between your legs, expertly closing in on your climax with each swipe and you hold onto him for dear life. Your hips buck as you come, and he can feel a slight gush on his digits as your legs start to shake.
“Good girl,” he praises, slowing down his touches until your high passes. Only then, he retracts his hand and watches the dazed look upon your face.
It takes a few moments before you realize what has just taken place, drunk on being touched by a handsome man. Quickly, you reach to button your pants again, but Joel lays a hand on top of your wrist. Your doe eyes nearly have him toppling over.
“Joel, we cannot do shit like that,” you whisper despite no one being there but you and him.
“Language,” he reprimands without hesitation, “Turn around.”
You make yourself a little taller, but cannot hide the blush on your face, indicating your heart rate, “I mean it.”
“Turn around,” he reaches under your hand and curls his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, and you respond by looking down, “S’my turn.”
“Fuck, Joel— dad’s gonna murder you,” you continue your whisper.
“Your daddy ain’t here right now,” Joel yanks at your jeans hard to turn your around. He kicks the spinning chair to the side, so he can push you down over your childhood desk and nearly make you knock over its pink lava lamp.
The pulsing between your legs returns. You look at him over your shoulder, curling your toes in your socks as the anticipation of what is about to happen hits you. You know that you should fight it, and you make a last effort to stop him, but it isn’t very convincing.
“It isn’t right.”
“You don’t want to leave me hard enough for your precious daddy to see, do ya? Or do ya wanna get me in trouble?” Joel reveals what he is doing behind you when you hear the buckle of his belt. The metal hits your carpet with a clink, “Answer me so I know if you’ll fuck me over.”
“N-no, of course not, never,” you stutter, already reaching to pull your jeans down now that Joel never allowed you to button them again. Joel wants to bite down on his fist, watching the blue and pink Superman panties reveal themselves. It’s all so perfectly innocent and he is going to ruin you by putting his cock in you.
Joel knows you’re not a virgin; has seen you getting picked up by some boy with a shitty car a few times. It’s fine. It makes this easier, to just be relentless, even if he wishes that he’d been the one to show you the ropes, wondering briefly if the stupid boy has ever made you come like he will. No matter what, he is sure that no one has ever made you come that fast.
“Was it so hard to give in?” Joel eventually asks, pushing his own jeans and then briefs down over his hips, settling them around his knees. You shake your head, mirror him by tugging at your panties, showing off your wetness by slowly pulling to reveal the way they stick to your cunt.
“Oh fuck,” he moans, cock twitching without even having touched you. He watches the light trickle of wetness seep from your pussy, glistening right before his eyes to invite him in. It takes all his willpower not to stuff you to the brim right then and there, “That all for me?”
You look back at him again, nodding slowly with your bottom lip between your teeth. You know this isn’t right but there’s nothing that could stop you from doing this when you’re this horny, this curious to know if he’ll even fit.
“Eyes front, sweetheart. Gonna fuck you real good,” he promises, watching you obey prettily and rest your tits on the Hello Kitty computer mat.
“Please, put it in,” you whine, spreading your legs a little.
Joel lazily grabs his cock between his thumb and forefinger, takes a step closer toward you and nudges the thick head between your folds. He steadies his heartbeat with a slow breath, exhaling heavily as he starts to enter you. Fuck, he knows this will have the capability of ruining his life forever if anyone finds out but when you whimper at his size, he knows that he is done for; nothing will ever be enough again after feeling the tight grip of your young and inexperienced cunt.
“It’s not going to fit,” you tell him with slight panic to your voice, hands coming up to grab whatever you can but only the surface is safe. You are already panting from the pulsing of your walls, body resisting him just slightly. You want to tell him that you haven’t been fucked in months, and that you’ve never been with someone his size, girth stretching your aching cunt until your body feels feverish, “I’ve never been… Please, Joel, Mr. Miller. I—“
“Fuck you calling me Mr. Miller like your cunt didn’t just squeeze down on me when you said it,” Joel growls. He moves forward without warning, bottoming out inside of you and making you keen loudly as you feel him bump into your cervix. It hurts. Your nails dig into the wood, mouth opening in a silent shout.
“You never been what? With a man?” Joel continues, the real man is implied. A soothing hand comes to rest on top of the small of your back, acknowledging the pain that he has caused for just a moment before reaching to grab your hips with both hands.
You suck in a sharp breath, screwing your eyes shut as you wait for the first thrust. Joel pulls back only slightly then settles inside of you again with a brutal force, thinking that you might as well get used to it quickly so that there’s no rush to finish the job if your father arrives home. He does realize that this is a possibility at any given moment. It makes him jerk inside you.
After that, he starts a pace that has little consideration for you. He will take what he has wanted since the beginning of summer, thrusting harshly into you and making the desk slam against the wall until you are a moaning mess underneath him. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore, especially when his dick slides over that little spot inside of you that you’ve never felt anyone be able to do before.
“Fuck,” you gasp loudly, clenching once as the nudge inside of you sends signals to your clit. It throbs like before, ready to be touched again but you don’t dare let go of the wooden desk in case you topple off onto the floor.
“You don’t fucking swear or I’ll tell on you to your daddy,” one of his hands slide up to hold onto the back of your neck. He leans over you, goes impossibly deeper.
“Sorry, it-it’s just…” you whine, struggling a little against his grip but eventually managing to look back at him like earlier. It causes his fingers to dig into your cheek instead of your neck, “No one’s ever—“
He can see you struggling to stop yourself from cussing again, making him smirk as he breathes raggedly into the very pink room. He holds your gaze, ignoring the family photos on the wall in front of him, “Never what?”
“Fucked me like this, ah, made me want to co— Joel, made me want to come again,” you blurt out and squeeze your eyes shut again at a particularly hard thrust. You moan loudly, now also standing on your tippy toes because Joel’s hips are so strong that he is about to lift you off the ground a little.
The hand on your neck and cheek slips around your head, covering your mouth to stop you from swearing once again. He wishes he had time to teach you a lesson. His fingers dig into the corners of your mouth, and you fight the urge to bite down to feel just a bit of relief from the tension building up in the pits of your stomach, tugging from inside towards your touch-starved clit whenever he thrusts against your g-spot.
“If you can’t use your words properly without spitting filth,” he says firmly despite his slowly crumbling facade, balls tightening as his climax builds just like yours, “Then you don’t get to talk at all, baby girl. Gotta save whatever pieces of your daddy’s girl I can now that I know you take cock like this. My cock. Bet you want me to come inside too, huh?”
You groan and nod, salivating into Joel’s palm. It shouldn’t turn you on, but the idea of him spilling inside of you and the fear of what could come next… it sends a thrill shooting up your spine. Testing the waters, you push back into him and the noise that it pulls from the back of his throat is worth a tacky porcelain dolphin shattering on the floor.
With the splintering of the little figurine, Joel’s hand on your mouth pushes into you harder and he eventually has you upright. You still have both palms on your desk, arms stretched to help Joel keep you from falling over again. The front of your thighs burn as the edge of the table digs into them, creating a red line across them with each forceful move of Joel’s hips.
You say something, but it’s muffled. Yet Joel guesses right without any explanation, hand on your hip coming around your front to find your clit and using two fingers to coax your orgasm closer. You feel a fire pool between your thighs, eyes rolling back into your skull as you near the edge.
When you come, Joel groans along with you. He feels your pussy starting to pulse around his length, each drag of your walls sending him dangling on the brink of his own little death. He speeds up, lets go of your mouth to grip the edge of the desk and slam into you.
“Gonna fill up that sweet cunt, watch you panic when you get bred like a slut,” he says through gritted teeth, and you wail as you try to get his hand away from your over sensitive nub that he has yet to let go off. He rubs you in earnest, has you screaming as he forces another high out of you that sucks him harder into you and makes him come inside of you.
He will never admit how turned on the idea of you being late next month has you, but he makes sure that you milk every damn drop of his release with little care of the future horror it might bring.
That’s when the sound of a door opening and closing sounds from downstairs. It sends you into an absolute panic, pushing back into him and Joel grunting, but then pulling out of you hurriedly.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you swear despite what he has just told you, pulling up your underwear and jeans without any consideration for Joel’s come eventually making a mess of them. You should pee, wash yourself and splash cold water onto your face to cover up what you have just done but there’s no time.
Joel dresses as well beside you. He seems a little calmer, but he can feel his heart nearly beating out of his chest. This was a bad choice. A really, really bad decision from his side. He would apologize if he felt sorry though.
Quickly, the both of you descend from the stairs and into the kitchen. Your father is there, a puzzled look on his face as he sees the two of you together.
“Hey,” you try to sound cool and collected, “Mr. Miller just came over to borrow the car keys but we couldn’t find them.”
“Shit, was that today?” Your dad goes around the kitchen island and into the hallway. He fishes out the keys from a bowl on the side table in there, “Sorry, Joel. I coulda sworn it was tomorrow.”
“No problem,” he holds his hands up in surrender, showing no harm inflicted, “I’ll be back later tonight.”
“Here ya go.”
“Thanks,” he catches them as your dad throws them across the kitchen, “See ya later.”
He leaves without any more words, but he also leaves you with a shame that you never thought you could feel as you feel his come slide out of you and into your panties. You don’t even hear your dad asking you the first time about what you want for dinner.
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller fic#the last of us#joel x reader#joel x you#my writing#pedro pascal characters#joel miller smut#pedro pascal smut#the last of us fanfiction#tlou hbo#joel the last of us#joel tlou#asks#dbf!joel
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Breaking Up With JJK Men
Characters: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami.
Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, obsessiveness, mentions of death, begging, threatening, stalking, paranoia, etc.
Synopsis: How these JJK men react to you attempting to leave.
Satoru Gojo:
The type to beg
Gojo would immediately break down. He can’t bear you leaving; he’s lost too much already.
Something about Geto walking out of his life prior makes Gojo unhealthily attached and dependent on you. You’re Gojo’s safe place; he can’t lose you, no matter what.
Before you can say another word, he’s on his knees at your feet, holding onto your legs as tight as he possibly can. Gojo will refuse to let go unless you agree to stay with him.
He’s a crying mess, tears soaking your legs, hair disheveled as he sobs uncontrollably. As much as Gojo wants to control his emotions, he simply can’t.
If you still don’t give in, He’ll cup your face, forcing you to look in his direction to “see what you did to him”. Gojo tries to win you back the only way he knows how, by begging and making you feel absolutely awful for what you caused.
Before you know it, he’s wrapping his large frame around you, keeping you trapped in his tight embrace. If Gojo has to keep you with him using force, then he’ll go there in a heartbeat.
He apologizes for his excessive touch, but he needed to feel you in some way to help soothe himself. Gojo was practically having a panic attack before your eyes.
As Gojo locks you in his embrace, he can’t help but express how much he needs you. Gojo doesn’t know how he’ll manage without you; is there any point to life with you gone? Regardless of what you think, Gojo truly needs you.
Your heart breaks seeing him in this state—body shaking, eyes dull, and choking on his own sobs. Did you really have the heart to leave him? Seeing the strongest man alive behave in such a way over you leaving affected you mentally.
If you decide to stay, it’ll take a long time to improve his state. He needs to be 100% sure that you won't change your mind or leave when he’s off guard. Gojo becomes annoyingly attached to you physically; he cannot keep his hands to himself.
Gojo will slowly but surely get better. He’s still quite clingy weeks after the event, but he seems to be in the right headspace for the most part.
In the end, he’s just relieved to have his baby with him.
Suguru Geto:
The type to threaten
Geto’s first instinct is to laugh. He’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and believe that you’re only joking with him. When he finds out that you’re being serious, his entire demeanor changes.
Everything quickly turns bitter. Are you really going to leave after everything that he’s done for you? Geto finds it comical.
One thing that Geto will make clear is that you won't be leaving. He can’t seem to accept it, so it won’t happen.
The way that his dark, haunting eyes bore into your soul makes you immediately rethink your decision. How could such a warm and comforting face turn so dull and haunting?
Geto will blankly stare into your eyes silently, allowing you to change your mind before things get worse.
You’ll suddenly be pulled into his lap, harsh enough for you to notice his slight hostility but soft enough for you to not say anything.
“You don’t want to find out what I'll do to myself if you leave, right?” His words made you nauseous almost instantly. Geto spoke in a soft, comforting voice, but his words were sick.
He would caress your hair, occasionally pressing soft kisses to your temple, allowing his words to sink into your pretty little head. “I’m sure that you wouldn’t want to be the one to blame if I went through with anything precious”.
It was all sick; he was doing it on purpose. You knew that Geto struggled with his purpose of living, but you never knew that he would go to this level.
You couldn’t fathom the thought of not having Geto in this world; you still loved him even if you wanted to separate from him. You agreed to stay for the sake of keeping Geto alive.
Geto reverts back to his usual gentle self almost immediately when you tell him that you’ll stay. It was scary how rapidly he could change. Geto knew this, and he used it to his advantage.
Even if you planned to go through with leaving, he wouldn’t have let you. You’re his main purpose for living; Geto can’t lose that.
Kento Nanami:
The type to stalk
Nanami would spend a bit of time asking you to reconsider, but if you want to leave, he’ll let you go.
A few tears will be shed, but not much. Nanami doesn’t waste too much time begging because he knows that you’ll ultimately end up doing what you want.
Before you leave, Nanami will ask you for at least a hug and a kiss. As heartless as Nanami seems, he loves you to bits and pieces.
Nanami didn’t plan on stalking you; it just happened. He started by simply driving to your house to give him peace of mind, then peeking through your windows late at night.
A few weeks after the breakup, you take notice of an unfaltering feeling that someone is watching you. There wasn’t necessarily anything out of place; you just felt it. You couldn’t tell if it was because you were alone now or if someone was actually watching you.
Once you finally let the feeling go, everything gets worse. It starts with flowers at your doorsteps daily. You couldn't help but shake the feeling that Nanami might have been the one doing it.
It all escalated to feeling followed every time you left the house. You couldn’t help but notice someone's presence every now and then when you were about your day. You started to leave the house less and less because of it.
Nanami feels guilty for following you around, but he can't help it. Nanami can't bear the thought of something happening to you when he’s not there to protect you. His only resort is to secretly keep an eye on you as much as he can.
Everything was unbearable. Ever since the breakup, you have felt terribly paranoid and scared. You sit up at night sometimes thinking about how safe you would be if you had only stayed with Nanami.
You attempt to continue on with your life, but none of it ends. Your paranoia was consuming you whole. Thoughts of just running back to Nanami were becoming excruciatingly loud. Who else would protect you?
You tried desperately to continue on without him, but the truth is that you couldn’t. Not before long, you found yourself at his door once again. Regardless of whether he was stalking you or not, you just wanted it all to end.
Nanami would happily welcome you back with open arms. His desperation for you led to him doing things that he never thought he would do.
Nanami puts your mind at ease when you explain what you went through after leaving. He made sure to make you feel like he could protect you from absolutely everything in this world, which is why you came back.
Nanami can’t help but have some type of guilt in the back of his mind because of what he did to you. At least he has his baby back in his arms.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk headcanons#jjk#jjk x reader#gojo headcanons#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#geto headcanons#geto x reader#geto suguru#nanami headcanons#nanami x reader#nanami kento#anime
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sneaking out of heaven
ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader
part one, part two
cw: 18+ content, religious guilt, sexually repressed reader, allusions to abusive parents
a/n: i'm soooo nervous about this one lmao... will be smut eventually, but part of is kinda just... setting things up, yay!! not really sure how to tag this part either, so sorry if i missed anything :// title from the waterparks song of the same name <3
word count: 1.3k words
Growing up in the church offered you the only sliver of normalcy in your childhood. Your father, the pastor, was a strict man. He'd always made his expectations of you clear, and you were not one to go against his teachings. After all, his words were the extension of the words of God, as he had made abundantly clear.
You'd never been to a public school, and living in such a small town meant you were not subjected to things that most young girls were. Your father favoured it. This way, he could ensure his daughter stayed free of temptation. That she would be safe under his watchful eye, and never stray from the teachings of God.
Still, in the Church, you felt at home. In God's eyes, all men were created equal. You felt like you had some semblance of free will, less trapped under your father's thumb. As long as you devoted your life to God, you would be safe. He would provide for you, and you'd be able to leave this town.
This did not mean you did not miss the things that most teenagers got to experience. Fiddling around with the computer your dad allowed you for home-schooling purposes and finding incognito mode was something that instantly fed into your curiosity. Your dad couldn't monitor what you were doing, and it made you feel more comfortable to explore.
You never ventured too far, of course. It was as though you felt God Himself would strike you down if you looked at something you shouldn't. No, all you did was watch teen dramas with your volume muted late at night when you knew your father was asleep. You read the subtitles as you watched, fascinated by the idea of partying and going out. Having fun. Being free.
You couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to speak with someone your own age. This town was filled with old folks, and those who had kids all seemed to decide to have them a good ten or so years before or after you were born, so you were left being the only teenager there.
As you got older, the need to spread your wings and leave the nest only grew. Your father got stricter, roped you into more church duties. Anything to keep your curious mind wandering too much.
That was until the Kennedys moved into town.
Along with them came a boy, only a few years older than you. You could feel the tension in your father's body as you stood next to him while greeting them after they attended their first Sunday Mass there.
Their son, Leon, stood behind them looking incredibly uninterested. It was as if your father could sense what the boy would do to your mind, how he'd plague your thoughts late and night when you were all alone. You shook his hand that day, and that contact alone was enough to cause your downfall.
As you lay in bed that night, you felt the devil claw his way into the corner of your mind. He made his home there, filling you with thoughts that left you weak to temptation. As wetness pooled in the gusset of your panties remembering how Leon's hand felt in yours, you sobbed.
You prayed for God's forgiveness when the thoughts subsided. Apologised profusely for even thinking about touching yourself. The next morning, your shower took twice as long. You pretended it was the heat of the summer, but you knew it was your attempt at washing the dirty thoughts from your mind.
Every Sunday, Leon was begrudgingly dragged to church by his parents. And every Sunday, you fall further and further into sin. Until one day, you can't find Leon as you gaze into the pews.
It bothers you more than it should. You should be relieved. If he had convinced his parents to allow him to avoid church, you'd be rid of your temptation. God had heard your prayers, and he had offered you a solution.
You were not so lucky.
As you leave the church, Leon is propped outside against one of the walls. He's smoking, his lips the picture of sin as they wrap around the cigarette while he takes a drag.
His gaze flicks to you, and he tosses it to the floor, stopping it out with the toe of his boot. He grabs your arm, dragging you to the side of your church despite your protests.
“I've seen you watching me.” He says bluntly, but your brain can only focus on the sound of his voice and the way his hand feels as it lingers on your arm. You blink a few times, taking longer than usual to register his words.
“I-I haven't…”
“You have been, though.” He says harshly, brows furrowing like he's ready for a fight. “Think you're better than me? I can feel you judging me, y'know. I didn't want to come to this shitty town. I know I'm not like you.”
Your expression twists into one of confusion. Judging him? If anything, you were the one that deserved to be judged. You shake your head quickly, your heart beating so hard it felt like it would come out of your chest.
“I wasn't… I was just… just curious, that's all.”
He narrows his eyes like he's trying to see if you're lying. After a moment of studying you, he seems pleased enough with your answer and releases your arm.
“Cool. Your dad just really laid it on to my parents. They won't get off my back. Thought he sent you to keep an eye on me or something.” He says with a shrug, his gaze trailing over you.
“I'm not my father.” The words come out more sharp than you intended, and you're instantly scolding yourself mentally for speaking in that way. You take in a deep breath, looking down at the floor before meeting his gaze once more.
“I was wondering if we could be friends?” You ask softly, your voice shaking with slight nerves. Your father would probably crucify you if he knew you were alone with a boy, and here you were trying to bargain more time with him.
“It's just… well, I've never been able to hang around someone my age before, and-”
“Never?” He interrupts, brows furrowing as he looks at you. A small frown tugs at his lips, and you want nothing more than to kiss it away.
You shake your head softly, embarrassment burning in your chest.
“Shit. Does your old man keep you locked up in the church basement or something?” He asks with a laugh that only grows louder when he sees how affronted you are by him cursing.
He's joking, but it's not so far from the truth. You've been tethered to this town since the day you were born, kept on a leash so tight you could feel your airwaves being restricted more and more with every tug made by your father.
“It's just… I've never left this town.” You say quietly, and just like that, Leon's expression softens.
“You don't seem so happy about that.” He replies. The look on your face confirms his suspicions, but you don't say anything in response.
“Hey, well… I'll tell you everything you want to know.” He says with a smile that makes you weak in the knees.
If God created everyone in His image, he must have put a little extra of Himself in Leon Kennedy. You're not entirely convinced you're not in the presence of an angel. Or perhaps a demon sent by the devil to lure you into a life of sin.
You brush the thoughts away quickly. Leon was a human, plain and simple. It didn't matter what he looked like. All men were created equal, you remind yourself. There was nothing wrong with talking to him.
“So we're friends?” You ask hopefully, extending a hand in hopes of making contact with his calloused palms once more.
“Yeah. Friends.”
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shy!lucien x bold!reader, corruption. Reader is a shameless flirt and courtier in the nightcourt. She is rhysands sister, a part of the inner circle and is tasked with keeping lucien company when he and feyre first arrive in velaris. At first she plays with him and enjoys watching him squirm when she says the nastiest most flirty things infront of everyone. But then they truly fall inlove with eachother and reader finds out he’s a virgin. She takes his virginity and claims him as hers, promising that she’ll ruin anyone else for him🧎♀️👀👀 the mating bond snaps in place for them😋😋
Presents
Summary: Y/n loves making the new emissary to the night court flustered. The way he blushes, the way he sputters, hell, even the way he breathes is fascinating.
But she isn't ready for her heart to decide that flirting is not enough for her.
•○●⛦●○•
A/n: hey! I loved the prompt! It was so fun to write 😌 I also, I felt like you wanted me to write smut, but I don't write smut, so I'm sorry 😔
Anyways enjoy!
•○🌑○•
Lucien's pov.
He made a beeline towards Rhys's office in the river house. He had been relieved to find the house almost empty when he entered, knowing if the inner circle were present, the house wouldn't be so peaceful.
He was also hoping that she wasn't present in the house.
Rhysand's sister.
Y/n.
Over the months since he and Feyre had escaped the Spring Court, it was as if she had made him her target.
•○●⛦●○•
The first time, he had been lounging in his room a day after he and Feyre arrived in Velaris, thinking of the events in the past few days. He was feeling guilty for leaving his friend alone, wondering if he should have stayed back and faced Tamlin's wrath. That was all he could think about since the moment he stepped foot out of the spring court.
Lucien was about to scream at the top of his lungs in frustration, and that's when she decided to waltz in.
She wore a simple tunic and some loose pants, her hair shoved haphazardly into a bun. Her eyes sparkled as she took in the room he was staying in. She hadn't even bothered to knock, and once she had surveyed the room, she simply smiled at him and then plopped down on the small couch–which could probably accommodate only one illyrian, wings and all– as he watched from the bed, wondering what the hell was going on.
"Hi, I'm Y/n." She gave a tiny wave, lifting her legs to rest on one of the armrests of the tiny couch, her back resting on the other one as she draped her arm across the back of it.
He'd stared at her, dumbfounded.
"You are staring darling." She didn't even look at him, just continued getting comfortable on the couch.
He snapped his jaw shut, which he hadn't even realised was open. "I–I'm Lucien."
She grinned, finally looking at him. "I know sweets."
He wondered how to reply to that so the silence didn't become uncomfortable, his cheeks already starting to heat with embarrassment because he was caught staring. "Why–why are you here?"
He groaned inwardly. That was not how he was supposed to speak. Dammit, it was practically his job to know how to converse smoothly with people. He'd been a gods damned emissary for almost half his life.
She didn't seem to mind his words though, speaking happily. "I just thought you would be bored. I came to see if you needed company."
He raised his brows. "So have you seen if I need company?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"And I deem you in need of it."
This female was certainly weird. "I don't think that's true."
"Are you trying to kick me out?"
Shit.
"No–"
She laughed. "Don't worry darling. I won't take it personally."
He studied her for a moment. "Why are you really here?"
"I just told you."
"So you want me to believe that you aren't here so you could spy on me for them?"
She stared at him for a moment, the edges of her beautiful lips curling ever so slightly. "There is nothing they can make me do if I don't want to. And I would never want to spy on anyone. That's the darned spymaster's job. Not mine."
"But–"
He stopped when he noticed that her eyes were glazed over, and after a moment she heaved an irritated sigh.
"Brother's in need of me. Have to go. But don't you trick yourself into believing that I'll let you live in peace."
She got up, walking up to him instead of going to where the door was, and he watched as she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
The heat in his cheeks turned from embarrassment to the redness of fluster. She winked at him before turning away.
"Bye. Have a good day Lucien."
Butterflies erupted in his stomach when his name rolled off her lips, and he almost forgot to reply.
"B–bye." He spluttered.
Her eyes glittered. "You're cute."
Never in his life did he think someone would call him cute, but here he was.
Would she show up again? Or was this just some sick way of hers to pass the time?
He didn't know what to base his judgement off of, considering all he knew about the female was that she was Rhys's sister and she was as charming as he was.
•○●⛦●○•
And now the war was over, and the female still showed no signs of stopping.
He grunted softly at his thoughts, how all he could think about was her, all he could wonder about was what she would say when the met next.
But he was trying to distance himself from her.
Not because he didn't like her. No, he liked her, very much so. Probably a little too much for his own good.
But she was charming, and it seemed like second nature to her to flirt with people. He was pretty sure he probably had seen her flirting with the house at some point.
And it was a given that he might fall for her, he probably already had. And he didn't want to develop any more feelings in case she was just flirting with for fun and never had any interest in him. It would hurt him, which he didn't need more of.
So he stepped carefully towards Rhys's office, making sure he was making no noise, eyeing the staircase to make sure she wasn't about to flounce down it to greet him.
The plan was simple. Go meet Rhys, hand over the reports Lucien had with him, and go back to the mortal lands before the dinner and party for tonight's solstice began and wallow in sadness because he had no one.
No one to celebrate festivals with.
No one who cared enough for him to ask if he was doing well.
He had had only a couple of friends in his life who he was in contact with till this day. Vassa, Jurian, Tamlin and Feyre.
But Tamlin was in no position to care for and look over his own needs and health, let alone Lucien's.
And Feyre had her family to look after. So he had no one who cared for him, except Jurian and Vassa.
It wasn't that he was ungrateful. He was just lonely, and he oftentimes wondered what it would feel like to know someone cared if he lived or died.
He wondered how it would feel like to have a family like the inner circle to laugh and cry with.
He wondered what it would feel like to have a love like Rhys and Feyre's, Cassian and Nesta's.
But that's all he could do. All he ever did.
Wonder.
As soon as he reached the door of the office, he heaved a relieved sigh and then pushed them open.
And then he froze when he lifted his eyes.
There she was, her legs resting on the table as she sat in her brother's chair, flipping through a book in her lap.
She looked so careless, as if the world could go to hell and she would be sitting on the throne of hell itself, eating cookies and reading one of those romance novels she adored.
She didn't seem to notice him, her eyes glued to the book. So he decided it best if he left while she was busy, not wanting to get into a conversation with her that might potentially end up with him handing over his heart to be shattered.
Whatever was left of his broken heart anyway.
He took a silent step backwards, keeping an eye on her. And he found her lips lifting in a slow smile.
"Trying to run away Lucien? Come on, I thought you would have missed me." She pouted, slowly raising her eyes to his figure.
She didn't look into his eyes though. She leisurely raked her eyes over his form.
She hummed, seemingly satisfied.
"Y/n." He tried to mutter her name with as much detachment as possible.
Because he knew if he didn't, she would know exactly how much he missed her. Her voice when she talked to him and only him, how her eyes glittered when she found him blushing to one of her teasing remarks, how she boldly said the nastiest and filthiest things and made him wonder how she would sound like when he was deep–
No. He could not go to those moments now, he could not think of those thoughts now, because if he did, she would see how much he fucking. Missed. Her.
He had come to terms with his feelings a long time ago, knowing if he kept pushing them away, he would inevitably be hit by more feelings than he could handle all at the same time. So he had known in the budding stages of his love for her how much he truly desired her.
Lucien swallowed and decided to take a single step into the room and then another. Her eyes sparkled with happiness.
"How are you doing today Lucien?" She mumbled as he neared the desk.
"I'm good. How about you?"
"I'm perfect."
He knew she was. She was perfect and someone like him didn't deserve her.
He nodded. "Where is Rhysand?"
"Come on, you never ask me about myself these days. What's gotten into you?" She leaned back, her lower lip jutting out.
And all he could think about was how he wanted to bite–
"He is somewhere. Hopefully not dying. He told me a few moments before you arrived to retrieve the reports from you and that he'll be here soon enough."
He groaned inwardly. Everything was going just great. His mind and heart weren't helping much either.
"Are you staying for tonight?"
He was caught off guard by the sudden change in the conversation. "No."
Her brows furrowed and she lowered her legs. "Why not?"
"I don't know... I don't want to intrude–"
"Bullshit. You will not be intruding. We want you here."
He smiled sadly. "Do you though? Never felt that way."
Dammit. He was saying things that were supposed to be buried in his heart.
Y/n blinked. "What do you mean? When have I ever given you the impression–"
"Not you–"
But before anyone could speak another word, footsteps sounded nearby, followed by Rhysand's scent before he walked in.
"Oh hello Lucien. I hope you have the reports I asked for?"
Lucien nodded, relieved. "Yes. I have them."
"Good. Can you please move Y/n?"
She stood from Rhys's chair without ever breaking eye contact with Lucien.
"Hey Rhys, did you know that Lucien was planning on leaving after your meeting?"
Rhysand looked up at her, confused before he turned to Lucien. "Why is that Lucien? You should stay for dinner."
As soon as he said those words, he went back to rummaging in his desk drawer.
Lucien wanted to laugh. He was no kid. He knew Y/n had convinced Rhysand to say that.
He wasn't wanted here, no one except maybe Feyre and Y/n trusted or liked him. He wouldn't stay somewhere he wasn't wanted for more than necessary.
He felt a scratch on his mental walls, and he glanced at Y/n to find her staring intently at him. He opened a small window for her.
Yes?
I want you to stay. Please.
Are you sure? Lucien was still skeptical. Because if he stayed, he'll have to stand in a corner and watch the others have the time of their lives like a stranger gazing in from the window. Not to mention everyone might be uncomfortable and probably start pitying him because no one would have bought a gift for him.
Please Lucien. Stay for me.
"Yes, Lucien. Let's start the meeting. Y/n, could you please–"
"Yes." She stared at lucien for a moment, her eyes swirling with something Lucien didn't dare name, before she left the room and slipped out of his mind.
During the whole meeting, he was distracted. Wondering if he should stay or not.
By the end of the meeting, he knew what he wanted.
So he decided to stay.
Of course he did.
•○🌑○•
Y/n's pov.
Saying she was excited would be an understatement. But at the moment, no better word came to mind as all that occupied the space in her head was him.
He had looked so good today. But he always looked that way.
Today it all felt different. She had come to terms a long time ago that what she felt for him was no matter of jest, and that she really did have feelings for him.
She didn't know why, but she'd had felt this strange pull towards him today when he first walked through the door of Rhys's office.
She continued to eye him from the corner of her eyes, her resolve hardening.
They were all seated around on the couches in the living room of the river house, talking and laughing and drinking while Lucien and Y/n sat near the window on the little loveseat. Lucien simply drank his wine and stared into the glass most of the time.
Everyone had been shocked when Lucien came in through the door and took a seat next to Y/n, Cassian and Rhys nodding to him once before turning back to their partners to continue their conversation. Feyre had just smiled and said hello to Lucien before digging into her meal.
And then during the whole dinner, everyone had ignored him, consciously or not, to make him think he wasn't welcome or not, she didn't know. Azriel, Amren and Mor even glaring or sneering at him when he wasn't looking. It pissed Y/n off so much she was ready to tear their heads off.
But there was one good thing that came out of them ignoring him. She had him all to herself for the night, and so far, she had succeeded in making him blush throughout the whole evening.
The whole time, she asked him about random things or flirted with him, but she was genuinely curious about his opinion on political and other matters. Talking to him was truly enlightening. He was a smart and intelligent guy.
Now as they sat nearby the windows, she came to a decision.
"Hey Lucien." She waited for him to look at her before continuing to practically whisper directly into his ear. "I have to show you something. Would you like to come with me?"
"Um... okay. Lead the way." He stood along with her and she led him towards the door to the foyer. But before they could leave, Rhys's voice interrupted them.
"Where are you going?"
"I was going to show him something." She answered honestly.
"Go after the presents have been opened. Come sit, we were just about to open them."
Y/n glanced at Lucien, who shrugged and stepped back into the room towards the seat they had occupied for hours. She decided to keep standing.
Everyone began opening their gifts one by one, and she could feel Lucien's discomfort coming off him in waves with each moment that passed.
Finally, everyone had opened their presents, and they turned to look at Y/n expectantly. She was the only one who hadn't opened her presents yet.
Rhysand piled all her presents near her neatly, but then the inner circle noticed that there was still a pile of presents apart from Y/n's nearby, and Cassian, being the busybody he was, stood to inspect.
"Who's are these?" He stepped closer and closer before Y/n interrupted him. He turned to look at her.
"Those are Lucien's."
Everything became silent as they stared at her.
She simply smiled and winnowed all the presents, hers and his, away to her room.
"I'll open my presents later. For now that you all have finished opening your gifts, I'll take my leave. I still do have to show him that thing." She smiled at Lucien, who gaped at her, his eyes wide.
She motioned at him to follow, and he did, after staring at her for a moment.
"Good night everyone. Happy solstice." She threw over her shoulder, already beginning to ascend the stairs before Lucien had even left the room.
He followed behind, quiet.
The two of them had just entered her room, the door closing behind him with a soft click before he caught her wrist in his hand, tugging lightly but firmly.
She glanced back, her skirts swishing around her legs as she stared up at the beautiful male. She was wearing a simple golden and white dress, which was mostly held by a ribbon on her back which was tied off in an elaborate bow.
She raised her brows, and his golden eye glanced behind her while his russet eye stayed on her. She knew what had caught his attention. The piles of gifts she had dropped near her window.
"What– whose..."
She grinned softly and shrugged, letting his hand stay where it was on her wrist and tugging him towards window. "All yours. Open them."
"Are they all from you?"
She shrugged again as the two of them settled on the floor and he pulled a small gift towards him, examining him. "Yes."
"Why? Is it because I don't– because I would get uncomfortable? You do know that was not the reason I didn't want to stay–"
"I do. And trust me when i say that I didn't get them for that reason. I... I've been collecting these gifts for you since after a month of meeting you. Never had the courage to give them to you. What better time to gift them than solstice?"
"Why..." His voice sounded choked off, and his eyes were filled with emotion. She put a gentle hand on his arm, smiling softly.
"Because, despite what you believe Lucien, not everyone hates you. I don't hate you. I like you, very much so." Then, in a quieter voice, she added. "I love you."
He swallowed harshly, looking at a loss for words. "I... you should use that word carefully. You shouldn't be throwing it around like its nothing."
She searched his eyes– or eye. "Why is that so hard to believe Lucien? That someone might love you?"
He looked away, his fingers fidgeting with the box in his hands. "It just is."
She stared at him a moment longer, knowing what she was about to do would be reckless. But she didn't care.
Not as she crashed her lips against his.
Not as she heard and felt his breath hitch, as she felt his lashes closing and tickling her cheeks slightly, as he slowly kissed her back.
She didn't care that this was reckless as his hands travelled to her neck and waist, pulling her into his lap, and she went happily.
Despite being the one who begun this kiss, she immediately felt nervous. What if she had pushed herself onto him and he didn't want to kiss her?
So she pulled away just as quickly, and he looked at her with his brows furrowed.
"Is everything alright?"
"Um... I should have asked–"
"Oh shut it." He mumbled before tugging her closer and kissing her again.
It felt like they kissed for a whole eternity, and she wanted to keep going, but the two of them needed air, ribbons needed to be unwound and the presents needed to be opened.
So she reluctantly pulled away, smiling.
"We need to open the presents." She reminded him, and he blinked as if he had forgotten.
"You want me to open them now?"
"Yes. After that, you can have me as your present too." She winked at him as his face reddened. She was about to climb off his lap, but he held her back.
"Stay there love." He whispered huskily in her ear as he began opening the presents.
She didn't move, more than happy to stay where she was.
He opened the presents with feral urgency, ripping the papers away and looking at what was inside. And despite the beastly way in which he opened them, his face was soft, as if he was shocked by each one that he opened. She put months of thoughts into them, getting the stuff that would mean the most to him.
After he was done, he shoved his hand in one of his pockets and pulled out a sleek and slender box.
He simply handed it to her, jerking his chin at it. She opened it tenderly, gasping when she saw the necklace.
It was a simple one, with a simple thin chain and a teardrop pendant the size of her thumb's nail encased in a silver frame. It looked ordinary, but she knew it was no ordinary jewellery.
It was a magical one.
A few months ago, she had forced Lucien to come shopping with her, and they had gone into a shop of enchanted items. There, she had spied a pair of necklaces, which were said to be connected to each other. All you had to do was blow a little bit of your magic, no matter how insignificant, into the pendant and give it to your partner, and the pendant would turn red whenever you were in danger, alerting your partner.
She had wanted to get it, but she didn't have anyone to wear it with. So she had dragged Lucien away.
Now as she sat staring at the same necklace, she wondered if he had the other one. Sure enough, when she glanced at him, he pulled away the lapels of his tunic to show her the pendant that rested on the carved planes of his chest.
She laughed and tackled him into a hug before demanding that he put the necklace on her. He did, grinning as he clasped the necklace on her neck. He place a suggestive kiss on the back of her neck, reminding her of what she'd promised.
And Y/n always kept her promises.
"Umm... Y/n? Before we do anything, I just wanted to tell you that... I– I never..."
She cocked her head. "You never what Lucien?"
He glanced at her bed, and she realised.
"You've never slept with anyone?" She asked incredulously, the corners of her lips lifting.
"Don't laugh." He mumbled, not meeting her eyes.
"I'm not laughing, I just can't believe no one has ever lured you into their beds yet."
"You say that like it's a good thing."
"It is."
"It is?" He finally met her eyes.
"Because now I get to have you all to myself. I'll ruin everyone else for you." She swore.
And, as said before, she kept her promises.
•○🌑○•
Y/n blinked her eyes open, finding herself cuddled into a warm body, her head resting on someone's chest.
Lucien.
He was already awake, moving his fingers through her hair. She smiled sleepily up at him, earning a chuckle in response. She felt the butterflies in their stomach flutter their wings.
Her body was running on only two hours of sleep, having stayed awake with him, but it was all so worth it.
"I should probably get going." He murmured, his voice rough with sleep.
"Why?"
"Rhysand will have my ass if he finds me in your bed."
"He can go to hell." She said, turning onto her back.
He laughed quietly. He turned onto his side so he was facing her, gently flicking her nose. "That would make you a bad sister."
"I don't care." She mumbled.
He grinned. "That's sad."
"Let's not talk about him now. Tell me, did you have fun last night?" She asked wickedly.
Instantly, a blush stole over his cheeks. She eyed his chest, the golden skin stretching deliciously over his taut muscles.
"You know–" She began, lifting her eyes back to his, but then paused. As soon as their eyes met, a resounding snap echoed through her being.
She stared and stared at this amazing male, who she never thought she would deserve, now connected to her eternally with a golden string. He stared right back, a flurry of emotions swirling through his eye. Shock, happiness, wonder, awe, lust and what not.
She tried to lightly tug on the golden string, trying to gauge his reaction.
He gasped, his hand flying to his chest. His eyes lit up with an inner fire, boring into hers, which were slowly filling with tears.
"Mate. You– you're my mate..." She whispered, not daring to speak louder as if it would shatter this beautiful moment.
His lips slowly lifted, a crease appearing in his cheek. "Mate."
But of course, her brother loved to interrupt her any chance he got, and he chose exactly that moment to slam her bedroom door open.
Lucien was quick, throwing the blanket by their waists over her body.
Rhysand froze, staring at Lucien and then Y/n. Whatever was visible of her anyway.
Y/n smiled sheepishly, trying to find a way to calm Rhysand before he erupted in rage. "Hi Rhysie–"
"What's he doing here?" He asked coldly. Y/n sighed.
"That's none of your business."
"It is when I find my little sister in bed with someone like–"
She narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me? What do you mean?"
He released a breath, rubbing his eyes. "Look Y/n... first of all, Lucien, would you mind leaving us–"
"He's not going anywhere." She grasped Lucien's hand, almost all of his fingers covered in rings, just that simple touch shooting desire up her spine. The recently discovered mating bond made it no easier.
Rhys clenched his jaw. "Look sister–"
"Okay, imagine this Rhysie, I come into your room one day, and tell Feyre to leave the room so I can talk to you. Would you let her leave?" She wanted this conversation done with. The faster Rhys left the room, the quicker she'd be able to get to her mate and the desire itching at her skin.
"That's different. She's my mate–"
"And he's mine."
The silence was deafening, and no one made an atrempt to break it. She glanced at Lucien, who had a smug smile filled with pride on his face as he gazed at her.
Finally, Rhys spoke. "We need to talk."
"Later." She could already smell Lucien's intoxicating arousal.
Her brother looked incredibly uncomfortable. "I–then I guess I'll leave?"
"Please." She glared at him, and he practically sprinted out the door.
When she glanced at Lucien, he murmured, "That was hot."
She giggled, tugging him forward by his hand that she was still clasping. He complied, leaning into her and kissing her slowly and deeply.
They only pulled back when it was almost impossible to keep going without breathing and he grinned devilishly. And cauldron if that didn't have her insides in a mess.
"Ready for round two?"
She was.
•○🌑○•
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#acotar#Lucien x reader#Acotar fanfic#mating bond#a court of thorns and roses#Lucien fluff#acotar fandom#acotar series#fluff#Lucien fic#Lucien fanfic#sarah j maas#acotar headcanon#Acotar writing#acotar fluff#acotar x reader#reader insert#lucien vanserra#lucien acotar#pro lucien vanserra#rhysand sister#lucien
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Hey Daddy.
Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader
Words 3381
Warnings Some strong language and mentions of miscarriage, blood, losing a family member. There's a bit of angst and lots of fluff though!
Another Anon request! This is my first Dad Travis/pregnancy related fic. As someone who has never been pregnant and doesn't plan on it in the future, I've avoided writing this sort of thing. But this is why I love getting requests as it brought me out of my comfort zone and I really enjoyed doing it! So, thank you Anon for making me branch out into a different style!
"Can I request some dad Travis/pregnant reader? Travis has to travel for an away game and his wife (reader) is 9 months pregnant who has to stay home - unable to travel due to being so close to giving birth. She gets very anxious lately whenever Travis has to leave because she can go into labor any day now. Game day is here and the reader is not feeling well at all. She's curled up on the couch with a blanket and some tea, to watch the game. During the game, the reader's water breaks and she goes into labor. Travis' mom is in touch with her. Travis' mom notifies the team staff what's going on... and then they notify Travis during the game."
"Baby, I miss you." Travis' warm voice made you melt as you held the phone close to your ear.
"You only left this morning!" You giggled as you clutched at the blanket and pulled it up to your chest, "You can't miss me already?"
"Yes I can! Are you saying you don't miss me when I leave?"
"Of course I do, Travis." You winced slightly as you shifted on the sofa.
Travis heard your slight noise of discomfort, "What? Are you okay? What's wrong?" He immediately sounded concerned.
"Relax, baby. I've just got cramp. I'm fine."
You heard him sigh in relief, "Man, I hate leaving you. I hate leaving you anyway, but you're sick and you know...ready to burst."
"Not long until the little guy is here." You gently rubbed your swelling stomach.
The Chiefs had a game in Dallas against the Cowboys and Travis had travelled to the game alone for the first time since you had been together. You only had 2 weeks left until your due date and luckily, Travis had had a bye week and two home games in a row, meaning he was around to take care of you. You hadn't been feeling 100% for the past few days however, meaning he was more worried, especially as he was about to be 500 miles away from you. You tried to keep him calm, reminding him that it was only an hour's flight home and he would be back before he knew it.
"Well, try to keep him in there until I'm home."
You laughed, "I don't think I'll have much of a say!"
Travis hummed into his phone, "And remember, you can call my Mom at any time."
You snickered slightly, "Travis, I'm fine. I'll be here on the couch with my snacks and my herbal tea, watching you kill it."
Travis sighed again, "Okay, okay. Baby, I gotta go. But please, take care until I get back, alright?"
"Alright. I love you, Travis."
"I love you, Y/N."
You hung up the phone and reached for your ginger tea, sipping it gently, the hot steam tickling your cheeks. A strong stab shot through your lower back again, causing you to stretch your chest upwards in an attempt to relieve any pressure. You had been having these pains for most of the afternoon but you didn't want to worry Travis. You picked up your phone from the arm of the sofa and texted Travis' Mom, Donna.
"I've had a few more of those pains, but I don't know how much more ginger tea I can have. I'm running the the bathroom every two minutes!"
Donna must have had her phone in her hand as they three grey dots appeared almost immedately.
"Just wait till you're at my age, sweetie!"
You smiled at her message, pulling the bowl of nacho chips onto your lap, enjoying the pre-game interviews. Your eyes danced across the room, cards from friends and family wishing you well for your pregnancy dotted around the surfaces. A brand new crib was located near the window, a bright blue bow secured on top; a gift from Travis' brother Jason and his wife Kylie. Your heart fluttered as thoughts of you and Travis becoming parents filled your mind. He was fantastic with his three nieces and they adored him just as much as he did them. You picked up your cup of tea, but as you brought it to your lips, you felt your bladder sting, groaning as you lifted yourself up for another trip to the bathroom.
By the second half of the game, you were out of chips and the Chiefs were down by 7 points. You grumbled to yourself with the dull ache that was radiating across your back and stomach. Gripping onto the blanket you opened your latest message from Donna.
"Keep up with those breathing exercises, honey. Have you got the birthing ball?"
Your eyes scanned over to the large, blue gym ball in the corner of the lounge. You knew that it would help with your pains but just the idea of getting up from the sofa was enough to tire you out.
"Yeah I have. I'll get on it now. I could really do with a Momma Kelce hug, that would make me feel better!"
"You only have one week to wait and you can have all of the Momma Kelce hugs you want!"
You smiled as you put your phone back down and slowly rose to your feet, one hand lightly supporting your large bump. As you settled down on the ball in front of the TV, the third quarter was beginning. You gently bounced, breathing deeply and feeling some of the pain release before your core tightened again.
Travis' face flashed up onto the screen as he was settling into position for the first play of the quarter and you smiled, feeling an immense combination of love, pride and respect. Your relationship had developed over a few years, through your friendship with his teammate Eric Fisher and his wife Elizabeth. When Travis was drafted to the Chiefs, he was invited to numerous parties, dinners and barbeques that you had attended and a close friendship blossomed. Travis eventually asked to take you out on a date and you agreed, with a little persuasion from Elizabeth and Eric. He was kind, caring and attentive to you, with staunch manners and an incredible sense of humour. He made you laugh, made you feel safe and always put you first when he could. The two of you had married after 4 years surrounded by your family and friends and it was truly the happiest day of your life. You couldn't believe how lucky you were, staring up at the handsome man who was promising the rest of his life to you. It was a mutual decision to start trying to have children, and you got to work almost immediately after the wedding.
When you found out that you were pregnant, Travis was overjoyed, choking up as he kissed you repeatedly, crying "Thank you" into your lips. You prepared the house for your new arrival, painting the nursery and spending your Monday nights building new furniture. Everything was falling into place until during your second trimester, you suffered a miscarriage. You had been putting some groceries away when you felt a strange sting deep in your abdomen. You grabbed onto the kitchen counter and doubled over, clutching your stomach with your other hand. You breathed through the intense pain and when Travis walked through the door, he rushed to your side. Picking you up and moving you to the sofa, his face turned white when he saw the trail of blood that ran behind you and he quickly drove you to the hospital.
The next few months were numbing. You felt that you had let Travis down, that it was your fault that you had lost his first child. He insisted every day that you had done nothing wrong and stuck to your side as you grieved.
Just as you were beginning to heal, life threw you another cruel blow. You had invited your Mom for coffee and you knew something was wrong with her. She was quiet and fidgeting so you pushed for answers. You wished you hadn't as it was then when she explained that she had found a lump in her breast and was awaiting for the results from the Doctor. Only days after you saw her, she was diagnosed with Breast Cancer and she passed away soon after. Coming from a single parent household, you and your Mom were extremely close. She was your rock and was elated on your wedding day, constantly telling Travis how happy she was for the pair of you. You had felt like your life was falling apart around you but the one constant support you had was Travis. He would hold you close as you cried yourself to sleep. He would stay with you when you were too drained to leave the house. He took a year off of football to help you and to care for you. You were undeniably grateful to him and when you fell pregnant again, he was reasonably cautious. Reading baby books, attending lamaze classes with you and checking up with you every hour when he wasn't with you. His attentiveness made your heart burst with love, seeing a glimpse of his parenthood skills.
Your attention was brought back to the screen when you heard the commentators begin to raise their voices. Travis was sprinting down the field, the football safely cradled in his arm.
You sat up further, clenching your thigh muscles, "Go on, baby! Come on, keep going! Go!"
Travis made the touchdown with ease, dropping the ball as he raised his hands to the sky, blowing a kiss in your honour, as he always did. You clapped your hands and shouted with happiness until you felt a sudden wetness release in your sweatpants. You stopped, slowly standing up from the gym ball. Feeling the smooth texture with your fingers, you looked down with an initial sense of panic. The liquid was clear and you froze on the spot. Your water had broke.
You immediate reaction was to call Donna.
"Hey honey!" Donna sang down the phone.
"Uhh Donna, I think the baby is coming." Your voice was panicked.
"What?"
"I was cheering for Trav and my water broke."
"Oh shit. Okay, stay calm, relax, I'm gonna call Travis' team staff. Have you called the hospital?"
You paused, "Umm...no. I called you straight away."
"Okay. Call the hospital straight away."
You swallowed hard, "Donna, he's not supposed to come for another 2 weeks."
"I know, it's okay though."
"I'm scared. I'm on my own and I'm scared."
Donna sighed, "I know you are, but trust me, everything is going to be fine."
You nodded your head against the phone, "Yeah, yeah. Thank you so much Donna."
"I'll speak to you soon, sweetie."
You paced the floor with nerves, unsure of what to do. Usually, Travis would be the one to keep you calm so you looked towards the screen. The game was still playing and you stared as Travis was completely unaware that his wife was in labour.
You called the hospital, clutching at your stomach, explaining that your water had broken two weeks before your due date. The call handler explained calmly that they would be sending an ambulance as soon as possible but that you were still in the early stages of labour and not to panic.
As the current play ended, you saw Travis sitting down on the bench, breathing heavily and watching the action on the field as he sat this one out. A member of the Chiefs staff approached him from behind and tapped his shoulder. The camera panned away and you groaned through what you assumed was a contraction, waiting to see your husband on the screen again. When his face finally appeared, his eyes were wide and his head was whipping from side to side, anxiously shouting to everyone around him before he was quickly ushered out of the stadium.
You felt restless. Glancing out of the window, you tried to slow your breathing down in an attempt to relax. You watched the trees swaying with the breeze, almost replicating the movement with your own body and taking deep inhales. Closing your eyes, your hand instinctively cradled your baby bump just as another stab of pain shot through you.
"Come on, just stay in there until Daddy gets back." You muttered.
You hunched your back over and pressed the palms of your hands against the wall for stability as your phone started ringing. Without checking who it was, you answered the call.
"Hello?" You groaned.
"How are you doing, sweetie?"
You winced as you sat down on the gym ball, "I don't know if these pains are contractions but they're kicking my ass, Donna. Did you speak with the team?"
"Yeah, they're getting him out of the stadium now and onto a private jet to bring him home as soon as they can."
You sighed with relief before letting out a throaty cry, "I need him here."
"He'll be there, honey. He isn't missing this."
Your phone beeped in your ear, signalling that another call was trying to get through. You pulled the phone away to look at the screen, seeing a selfie of you and Travis on your wedding day, a huge smile on your face as he pressed a kiss into your cheek.
"He's calling me now, Donna. I'll have to go."
"Okay, call me later on."
You switched the call over quickly, hearing Travis' breathless voice.
"Baby, baby! Are you okay?"
You smiled, "I'm fine, it's painful but I'm okay. They're sending an ambulance as soon as they can."
"I'll be home in an hour and a half. Just sit tight and keep breathing. I love you so much."
Your voice shook, "I love you too, I can't wait to see you be the best Daddy to this little guy." You held your baby bump tenderly, feeling movement through your sweater.
Travis cleared his throat, "I'm getting on the jet now, I'll see you soon."
"Bye, baby."
You dropped your phone on the sofa and began pacing the floor again, grasping at your back as the sharp stab began to change into a dull ache. Your groaned through the pain, gritting your teeth and scrunching your eyes.
It wasn't long before an ambulance arrived to take you to the hospital. You were anxious about having to do this first step on your own but knowing that Travis was on his way eased your mind slightly. He was your birth partner and knew what to do to keep you relaxed, the correct breathing exercises to do and you were desperate to have him by your side.
Once you were in the hospital, you were quickly brought to your private room, your husband wanting only the best for you. It was bright, comfortable and quiet, just what you needed. A cheerful nurse appeared in your doorway with short grey hair and a wide smile.
"Mrs Kelce, my name is Heather. I'll be looking after you today." She beamed as she made her way to your bed.
"Hi Heather." You whined quietly, "My husband is on his way so please could he be let straight in when he gets here?"
She nodded and picked up your notes that were hanging on the end of the bed, "Of course, anything you want. Now, how is your pain."
You scrunched your face, "Manageable at the moment, I guess."
Heather stretched on a pair of gloves, "You just let me know if you would like any help with the pain, but first thing I'm going to do is check how far along you are, if that's okay?"
You nodded as she made her way to the end of the bed, lifting your gown up. You shifted as she examined you, trying to relax.
"Okay, so you're around 4 centimetres so I'm afraid we've got some time to wait, Mrs Kelce."
"Please, call me Y/N."
Heather smiled as she removed her gloves and placed them into the bin, "Now, can I get you anything?"
You pointed down to your bag that you had had packed and ready for the last 2 weeks, "Could you hand me the book that's on the top, please? I figure now would be the perfect time to get some reading in."
Heather reached into the bag and pulled out a large hardbacked book and passed it to you, winking, "Good idea. I'll be just out here. If you need anything at all press that buzzer and I'll be right in."
You smiled at her, your fingers brushing over the pages of your book. You held your breath as another wave of pain brushed over you, but this time it was longer and more intense. You clenched your jaw and closed your eyes to try and deal with the pain, not keen on taking any drugs throughout your labour. Squeezing your eyes further shut, you gripped the book in your hands as the pain began to subside.
Your knuckles were turning white when you heard gentle footsteps. You opened one eye to see Heather set down a cup next to you on the bedside table and lower herself into the nearby seat.
"Ice chips." She said with a smile, "You'll get a dry mouth, especially in this heat."
You took hold of the cup, "Thank you."
She placed one hand on yours, "First time?"
Your face relaxed as the pain subsided, "Yeah." You said with a slow exhale.
"I bet your husband is excited?"
Your lips curled upwards, "You could say that." Your eyes drifted to your phone which had lit up with a notification and was now showing your background of you and Travis on vacation together. "He's going to be an amazing Father."
Heather gave your hand a squeeze, "You'll need to buy an 87 jersey!"
You lowered your eyebrows in confusion.
"My husband is a Chiefs fan, I know who your husband is." She laughed.
"Well, I'm sure I can hook you up with an autograph...ohhhhh." You groaned in agony as Heather started to put her gloves on.
"Oh sweetie, let's just have a look and see what's going on here." Heather said calmly as she began to examine you, "Oh, someone's impatient."
Your eyes widened, "What? What does that mean?"
"It means your baby is coming." She smiled as she removed her gloves and discarded them.
You placed your hands either side of your hips and lifted yourself up slightly, "What? Now? No, Travis isn't here. I need him with me."
Heather took hold of your hands in hers, "Honey, this baby isn't going to wait. He's like his Papa, quick off of the mark." She laughed as she grabbed some charts and unlocked the brakes on your bed.
You closed your eyes, willing the tears not to start falling down your cheeks. You took a few shaky breaths before frantic footsteps in the hallway caused you to open your eyes and your breath hitched when Travis bounded into your room. His face was red and sweaty from rushing around and his expression softened when he saw you.
"Baby, I'm here, I'm here. Is everything okay?" He leaned down and kissed you gently.
You smiled into the kiss, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just glad you're here. I think they're taking me now."
"What, now? Right now?" His voice was panicked.
Your eyes filled with tears, "Are you ready to be a Daddy?"
His thumb brushed over your forehead, "Absolutely."
Heather appeared in the doorway, "Are we ready?"
You pressed your lips together and nodded quickly, "I think so."
______________________________________________________________
Your eyes flickered open and the room slowly came into focus. You swallowed with difficulty, your dry throat scratching. As you turned your head on the pillow, you saw Travis standing at the window, looking outside. You could hear him mumbling with a low voice, but it was too quiet to hear what he was saying.
Clearing your throat a little first, you croaked, "Hey Daddy."
Travis turned around, a bundle of blankets nestled in his arms. He looked up at you and smiled before looking down again, "Look, Mommy's awake."
He came close to you, leaning slightly so he could place the tiny baby on your chest. You looked down at a pair of large blue eyes blinking up at you.
"This is crazy." You whispered.
Travis grinned, bending his knees so that his face was lined up with yours. He pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead, his stubble grazing your skin, "I am so proud of you, baby. You are amazing."
You sighed, "Thank you for getting here in time, I don't think I could've done it without you, baby." You voice shook.
Travis cleared his throat, his emotions taking over, "You are so strong, you can do anything. You hear me? Anything. And I am so happy to start this new chapter of our lives together." He leaned further, kissing his sons forehead, "Our little family. You, me and Dashiell Kelce."
______________________________________________________________
My show is finished now so I'm back to writing. The requests are piling up but I promise that I'm going to try and get through as many this week as I can!
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Late Nights - J.Q
kind of like a Joe Keery imagine i did but for Joseph, enjoy loves <3
you'd been out with your friends for your friend, Ruby's birthday. you and Joseph shared a two bedroom apartment and you loved that you and Joseph were finally living together after being with each other for 4 years.
you entered the apartment, slipping off your heels at the door, walking through the apartment as quiet as you could, hoping to not wake up Joseph. you walked to the bathroom, turning on the light as you entered it. you started taking off the makeup you had on, feeling relieved that you were finally home, being able to be makeup free.
once you'd finished taking off your makeup, you turned around to go get your pyjamas but noticed the huge t-shirt and shorts on the heated towel rack. your heart swelled when you realised Joseph had put them on there. one thing about you was you felt the cold very easily, every night before bed you would leave your pyjamas on the towel rack to heat them so they'd be nice and warm for when you put them on.
you quickly changed into the pyjamas, the warmth taking over you as you slipped on the t-shirt and shorts. you switched off the bathroom light after brushing your teeth, walking down the dark corridor which had a few sentimental photos of you and Joseph on it, carefully opening the bedroom door. you heard light snores coming from Joseph as he clung to a pillow, his body facing the door.
usually, you would walk round to your side of the bed, giving both you and Joseph enough room but tonight, you just wanted to be held. you closed the bedroom door behind you and walked towards the bed. you carefully moved the duvet off of him and lifted up his right arm, allowing yourself to get into bed, your arm wrapping around him. he woke up slightly, moving backward a bit so you had enough room.
"hi sweetheart" he said, kissing your forehead softly. you dug your head into his chest, feeling him lazily stroke your clothes back. "missed you" you replied, eyes closing as his movements continued. "missed you too love. you have fun?" he said, voice croaking. you nodded, tiredness taking over you.
your left leg wrapped around his waist as you pulled yourself closer into his embrace, his hand running through your hair making you sigh in contentment. something you loved about Joseph was his hugs. he gave the most amazing hugs, always filled with warmth and love.
you were almost asleep when he suddenly stopped running his hand through your hair making you whine. "Joey, why did you stop" you said, arm moving around to find his hand to put it back on your hair. "sorry sweetheart, i thought you were asleep" he said, his hand running through your hair again.
his hands massaged your scalp and ran down your hair, detangling any knots he came across, making sure to be gentle. he had his eyes closed, the warmth of his body making him your own personal radiator. "you're so warm" you said, breaking the comfortable silence that filled the room. he laughed at your comment, leaving a few small kisses on your head. "you are so beautiful" he said, hand never leaving your hair. you smiled into his chest, a light blush spreading across your cheeks. no matter what, even after four years of being with him, he would always make you blush with his compliments.
"thank you" you said, happiness filling your body. "i love you" he said, pulling you closer to him, you didn't think it was possible to be that close but here you were, closer than ever. "i love you more" you whispered, sleep finally taking over you as his hand never stopped playing with your hair. once Joseph knew you were 100% asleep, he leant back and looked down, seeing your sleeping face. he always thought you looked most peaceful when you were sleeping and he just could watch you all day.
he smiled as he watched your chest rise and fall with each breath and he went back to hugging you. he left small kisses on the top of your head before finally shutting his eyes, getting back to sleep. the both of you hugged for that whole night, neither one of you wanting to let go. you both loved each other so much and you were so lucky to have one another.
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Hi! Can I please request yandere ghost with a gn reader who works in the government and has a lot of money, so he constantly spoils him
Sorry if it's written in a confusing way, I use a translator
Warnings: yandere behavior
A/N: No, 'cause this is so cute!! And you are totally fine! This made sense. Enjoy <3!
He’s uncomfortable with being spoiled. As much as he appreciates it, it feels… odd.
It’s supposed to be him that’s meant to spoil you, not the other way around. However, regardless of his complicated poker face, Simon easily accepts the gifts and enjoys getting them. Seeing that you go out of your way, to buy him things, makes him happy and relieved.
Simon gets flustered when you give him things, especially if it's about an item he saw on TV or something you paid attention to in conversation.
While he doesn't appreciate that you work in the dangers of the world. He won't stop you from working, easily seeing that it makes you happy. But he does put on some strict rules he expects you to follow.
With the spoiling, he gets nervous and slightly embarrassed. Not at the fact it's you giving them, but the mindset of 'oh my god, you've given me something and I don't know how to react appropriately'.
The first time you gave him flowers, he's quiet and staring at them. Never in his life has he been given flowers. He smiles and thanks you, to which he goes on the day as normal – though, you quickly notice how hard he tries to keep the flowers alive, watering them as needed and changing the vase every so often and his mood gets grumpy when they die; resulting in you getting more.
Decided to go out of your way to buy a custom knife? Yeah well, he won't use it in combat. Simon doesn't wanna break it but will use it in the bedroom.
After a long day of groceries, you finally convinced him to lay on the bed stomach-first and started giving him a back massage? Yeah, he loves you. The groans and his deep voice mumbling against the pillows of: ‘Keep hittin’ there, sweetheart’ definitely show his appreciation.
Made him cookies, a small note of love stuck to it? Well, it made him smile; really big. He kisses you on the side of the head before he leaves for a few hours.
While you may think he'll throw it away, he doesn't. Every time you've given him a note, a small sticky message for comfort is snuck into a small box underneath the side of his bed.
The most appreciated thing you do is waking him up with his coffee. Black. With one cube of sugar and no creamer. With a side of scrambled eggs and bacon. It never fails to make his heart bloom with excitement.
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Ch. 5: Safe (finale)
main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter
summary: The culmination of the haunting of Harrenhal. Secrets are revealed.
word count: 4.3k
warnings: ANGST, grief, possession, mentions and descriptions of death, suffocation, claustrophobia, car accident resulting in death, home invasion, ghosts, spooky things, fighting, blood, spiders
note: some things are revealed, and some are left for you to rattle around with and ponder! Happy Halloween my loves! 🎃 👻
banner made by the fantastic @ewanmitchellcrumbs, ilysm ange! thank you again for making this for me, I've appreciated it so much!
The drive home is filled with comfortable silence. The rain has changed from a torrential downpour to a light drizzle; steam rising off the blacktop curling toward the sky like smoke. The back of the car is full of shopping bags. It was hard to choose only one doll, and Aemond was insistent that Jaehaera should have one of her choosing; thus resulting in the purchase of one of each.
It was past suppertime by the time you’d returned to the grounds, the sky turning a pale purple as the sun sank over the horizon.
The house was quiet as you entered. Aemond hurried himself upstairs to check on Helaena and you made yourself busy in the kitchen. You found some leftovers and plated them before putting on the kettle.
You turn at the sound of footsteps. Aemond’s eye is wide, and he nods as you acknowledge him.
“Everything alright?” you ask, and he nods again more forcefully.
“Yes, she’s just with Maelor now in her room,” he tells you, “Jaehaera is in the nursery. Everything’s…alright.” He says it like he can’t believe it’s true.
“Sit,” you tell him, “You should eat.”
Aemond does as he’s told, sitting in a chair and rubbing his face.
“I’m so relieved,” he admits, “I didn’t…I was a bit unsure…” Aemond sighs then, leaning back in his chair, “Well she hasn’t been keen to interact with him since….”
“Since Jaehaerys,” you finish his sentence for him.
“Yes,” he agrees, “Since Jaehaerys.”
How much do you push? You’re not even sure what this means now that you and Aemond have slept together. How much should you know? You place a plate in front of him, before sitting down at the table as well.
How much do you want to know?
“What happened to him?” you ask, nervous to broach the subject.
You’d read a bit online about what had happened, but there were little details made public. About anything to be honest. The Targaryens were quite secretive.
“Helaena….” Aemond begins, “It was terrible. A home invasion. It happened right in front of her…” Aemond sighs, “I just want her to be safe. I’ve never been more scared than on that night. I thought I’d lost them all.”
Aemond rubs a hand over his face, closing his eyes.
“He thought he was hiding,” Aemond says softly, “Like a game. Helaena told him to go hide and he did. But…” Aemond swallows before continuing, “No one could find him. Long after the police had been there. Not until.”
Nausea rolls through you, discomfort sitting like a weight in your stomach.
“Where was he?”
“He’d gotten into the attic somehow, locked himself in a chest,” Aemond says, wiping a tear escaping his eye, “The coroner said he’d most likely fallen asleep. That the lack of oxygen wasn’t…it wasn’t a painful way to go.”
You can’t help the small, pained gasp that leaves you and you rush to cover your mouth with your hand, tears welling in your eyes. Just picturing little Jaehaera, you can’t even imagine something like that happening to her.
“And it was so soon after Alys,” he admits, “I wasn’t..I wasn’t myself. I don’t think I could have survived it. If Helaena…”
“Alys….she was pregnant, wasn’t she?” you ask, speaking very slowly.
Aemond gives you a curt nod, fingers tapping the table.
“She was,” he admits, “We weren’t….it wasn’t planned. But we were happy.”
You listen to him talk, focusing on the movement of his mouth.
“Car accident,” he murmurs, answering your unspoken question.
You nod slightly as he raises his eyes to see your reaction. There is no need to press any further on the subject of Alys. You can tell he still cares for her, that the wound has not healed.
“When I brought the children here…the first time…the girl before you, Floris,” he begins, and you nod for him to continue, “That’s when Alys first showed herself. I thought if she had Jaehaera to look after, she’d be content.”
The hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Moments of confusion begin to click in your mind, the realization chilling.
“She was, for a while,” Aemond tells you, deeply sighing, “I didn’t realize she’d…take over Floris until she tried...well,” He pauses a moment, wetting his lips before glancing up at you, “I’m sure you can imagine what happened.”
“Oh,” you answer, cheeks warming, “And did you..”
“No!" he answers quickly, "Seven hells I was embarrassed,” Aemond says, his own cheeks turning pink, “I had no feelings for her, nor her any for me. The poor girl was humiliated when she realized what Alys had tried to make her do. Left the following morning with little more than a resignation note scribbled on a napkin.”
“What does she want?” you ask, referring to his dead wife.
“I just think…” Aemond trails off, his eyes lost in thought, “I think she’s lonely. I think most of the spirits trapped here are.”
“And yet you mean to sell.”
“What would you have me do?” Aemond asks, resting his hand over his mouth, his elbow against the table.
You hold his gaze, unsure of how to answer.
Lights shine into the kitchen, along with the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires. Someone pulled in the driveway.
“Someone’s here,” Aemond murmurs, standing.
He goes to the front door and you stay behind, cleaning up the plates.
Voices soon grow louder as you clear the table. Not quite yelling, but raising in volume. You’re able to catch just pieces of the conversation; Aemond and someone else.
“She’s owed it,” Daemon’s voice makes your blood run cold, “More than you.”
“Alys was my wife,” Aemond argues, “This is what she wanted. I’m respecting her wishes.”
“It’s rather convenient that all those documents were lost,” Daemon continues, “Harwin wanted this place to go to Rhaenyra. To the boys.”
“Then he should have made the arrangements before…”
“Yes,” Daemon says slowly, “I suppose he should have. However, it is rather curious. He returns to Harrenhal House to get his will squared away and then…” Daemon trails off.
“What are you implying?” Aemond asks cooly.
“I’m only being curious,” Daemon insists, a playful edge to his voice, “Though I’m sure you’ll get a pretty penny for this old place. Ghosts and all.”
Aemond doesn’t answer, and you hear Daemon bark out a sharp laugh.
“Come now, lēkianna (nephew), have a sense of humor.”
“I want you gone,” Aemond quips.
“Yes, well, we all want things, don’t we?” Daemon asks, the smile evident in his tone.
You take another step and a floorboard creaks causing you to wince.
“Ah. That’ll be your little friend,” Daemon muses, missing nothing, “But before I take my leave, Rhaenyra asked about Helaena.”
“She’s fine,” Aemond snaps, “I’m taking care of her.”
You back up into the kitchen at the sound of footsteps. Daemon appears not a moment later, a half smile on his face. He’s dressed in a black button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Aemond stands behind him in the doorway, watching closely.
“Kettle on?” Daemon asks you, violet eyes narrowed. You give him a curt nod. “Be a dear, won’t you?”
You glance at Aemond, meeting his eyes. He looks exhausted but tilts his chin giving you the silent go-ahead. Turning from Daemon you grab a mug and prepare him a cup of tea. Daemon walks around the kitchen as you do so; you can feel his presence behind you. Aemond remains in the doorway his hands curled into anxious fists at his side. You try not to let your hands tremble as you offer the cup to Daemon, turning away from the counter.
He takes it, offering a small smile in return as he sips from the steaming cup.
“She’d be better off with Rhaenyra,” Daemon says, not ready to end the previous conversation, “Not like your crowd could keep anyone safe-”
Aemond lurches forward, smashing Daemon’s cup from his hand and sending it to the floor. It shatters and pieces of the mug explode against the kitchen floor. Daemon merely smiles, as though the display was nothing more than a child’s tantrum.
“Do you deny it?” Daemon taunts, “Be angry all you want; I only speak the truth.”
“Out,” Aemond hisses.
Daemon smiles crookedly, fire in his violet eyes. They stare at each other, neither refusing to back down first. They’re quite similar, you’ve noticed. Perhaps they once got along.
“The deed to the house,” Daemon tells him, “Then I’ll go.”
“You’ll go now,” Aemond says, grabbing Daemon by the shirt, and dragging him towards the door.
“Aemond!” you yell, as they push through the front door.
Daemon laughs as he pushes him, holding his hands out in feigned surrender. You’re almost sure Daemon could stop him if he truly wanted to; the older man is built with more muscle, less lithe and lean than Aemond is. You follow close behind as they make it out the door and down the front steps.
“Stop it!”
The two men continue fighting; they tumble down into the front yard, the rain-soaked grass causing them to lose their footing. The air is misty, the rain falling gently, steadily.
It’s a blur of fists and silver hair, Daemon’s fist connects with the side of Aemond’s head and red explodes into the air like drops of rain. His ring has cut Aemond’s temple, blood trickling down the side of his face, a brilliant scarlet against porcelain flesh.
“Stop it!” you yell, but the men ignore you continuing their fighting.
Aemond grapples with Daemon, spitting at him as he manages to wriggle out of his grip. You watch as Aemond gets the upper hand, his fist connecting with Daemon’s face. There’s blood on his hands, blood on his rain-soaked shirt and he keeps punching him again, again, again.
“Aemond!” you yell, your voice raw.
His eyes snap up, looking at you standing in the rain watching him. Daemon laughs below him, a slow giggle that grows in volume.
Aemond rises off the ground, running a hand over his slicked hair and walking toward you.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I’m sorry---” You wrap your arms around him, holding his lean form against you, hand pressed to the back of his head.
“It’s alright,” you tell him, “It’s alright.”
You stand there holding him as Daemon sits up, spitting a wad of blood and saliva into the ground as he stands. Rain soaks through your clothes, Aemond’s head heavy against your shoulder.
“This isn’t over,” Daemon says begrudgingly, walking over to his car, “If you won’t sign it over, she’ll put in an offer herself. And Helaena….” Daemon clicks his tongue, “Give her my regards.”
Daemon runs a hand over his hair, opening the door to his car before starting the engine. The tires crunch against the gravel as he speeds off.
“You’re freezing,” Aemond says. You’d hardly noticed you’d started shivering, your teeth rattling against each other. Aemond’s body pressed against yours, the only warmth you feel. Aemond takes your hands in his, squeezing gently. “Go upstairs, make sure Helaena is still alright?”
You force a nod, unable to stop your shaking. Your eyes are locked on his face, at the drying blood on the right side. Raindrops gather around the congealing blood, pink tears rolling down his cheek and onto his neck.
“I’ll get cleaned up,” he says softly, “Let’s go inside.”
You head up the stairs, hurrying to Helaena’s room as Aemond returns to the kitchen. You give the door a gentle knock before opening without a response from within. Perhaps she’s sleeping.
The room is dark, moonlight streaming in through the windows.
“Helaena!” you call, stepping forward but stopping yourself.
She stands on her balcony, her silver hair blowing softly behind her. The rain sprinkles into the room, pearly dew drops gathering on the hardwood floor like glass marbles. The gate of the railing is thrown wide open so that if she took a step forward she would plummet to the ground below. Your heart hammers in your chest, adrenaline warming you even though you’re soaked to the bone.
“Shhh,” Helaena murmurs, pointing to the bassinet that balances on the railing. Maelor is sound asleep within it. A breeze rolls through and you shiver.
“Helaena,” you say more softly, struggling to keep your voice even.
“He’s sleeping,” she says, staring at Maelor, “Isn’t he lovely?”
You take a cautious step forward, your shoes squelching as you do so.
“It’s cold, Hel,” you say, struggling to keep your voice light and even, “Why don’t you come inside?”
She ignores you, still gazing at her sleeping son.
“He looks so much like him,” she muses, brushing some soft hair, “He sleeps better. Jaehaerys never slept this easy as a baby.” She smiles softly, the back of her fingers almost stroking his cheek, “So soft. Perfect. A little angel, don’t you think?”
You nod, unable to speak, your throat tight with fear. Helaena hums happily and Maelor softly coos in his sleep, his fists raised above his head.
“He should stay like this,” Helaena murmurs, “Just safe, happy. He doesn't have a care in the world.” Her fingers dance along his face, not quite touching him, “There’s so much pain ahead of him. So much hurt. Scraped knees, broken bones. Loss. Heartbreak.” She laughs quietly, still swaying in the wind. “I can fix that.”
Fear stabs through you like a knife between your ribs. “Hel..”
“I can,” she says, eyes meeting yours, “Right now. Spare him any of that. Isn’t that what a mother should do? Protect her baby from harm?”
You swallow.
“I don’t want him to hurt,” she says, tears streaming down her face, “That’s all.”
“I know,” you tell her, “And you can try, and you can love him and hold him, and teach him, but…you can’t control the world.”
“But I can control this,” she insists, “Right now. I can choose.”
“Helaena,” you beg, “You don’t want this, not really. You want your baby to live. You want Maelor to have a life.”
Her lip wobbles, and tears spill down her cheeks soaking the fabric of her nightgown.
“But ... .but…I don’t wish this pain. Why?” she asks, looking at you suddenly, “Why can’t it stop?”
“That’s the price we pay,” you tell her, “That’s the deal you make with the world.”
“Rotten luck,” she says, laughing bitterly, “This family is cursed. We brought him into the world with a sword hanging above his head. It’s only a matter of time before…” Helaena winces, pressing her palm against her head, “My head….” she says, voice breaking softly, “It always hurts.”
“Maybe he’ll break it,” you insist, “Generational curses don’t have to go on forever. The cycle can end.”
“I suppose,” Helaena muses, giving you a wry smile, “You have lots of hope.”
“I don’t--”
“It’s good,” she interrupts, “Aemond does too. You’re good for him. He has eyes…though I don’t think he can see.” She turns and steps inside.
You take a hesitant step forward reaching to take Maelor, steadying the bassinet as it wobbles. Helaena allows it, walking past you into the room as you scoop the sleeping babe into your arms.
“This feels familiar,” Helaena says, glancing back at the balcony. A breeze rolls through, making you shiver, but Helaena stands unmoving. “Like…it’s happened before.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want a book,” Helaena muses, ignoring your question, walking toward the door, “I’d like a different story.” She leaves her bedroom door open as she turns down the hall in the direction of the library.
You steady yourself, taking a deep breath before walking to the nursery. Jaehaera isn’t in her bed when you arrive. A chill rolls through you. You place Maelor in his crib, closing the nursery door. A giggle is heard then, echoing through the hall.
“Jaehaera?” you call, walking slowly down the hall.
The giggling continues, along with the sound of running feet. Suddenly, the hair on the back of your neck rises and you turn.
Alys is in front of you, her green eyes bright. Shock pours through you, fear running through your veins like ice water.
“I’m sorry,” she says quickly, “I didn’t…”
You take an unconscious step back, adrenaline spiking at the perceived threat.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she says softly, “I just thought..” She trails off, “He’s been meaning to leave for some time. I tried to make him stay…even with Helaena..” Alys shakes her head, “I thought if we could have a baby. Our baby. I just wanted him to stay, that’s all.”
Tears began to well in your eyes.
“He can’t go,” she tells you, “Not the way he wants to.”
“What do you mean?” you ask.
Alys grimaces.
“He can’t leave the way he wants,” she repeats, slowing her words.
What? “But Alys,” you tell her, “I don’t understand..please..”
“You know,” she tells you, backing up into the darkness until her glowing green eyes are all you can see—green flames in the darkness. “You’re clever. Help him see.”
Help him see.
Help him see what? But Alys has gone, evaporating into darkness.
He can’t leave the way he wants to.
You walk down the hall, turning into the library. It appears to be empty and you crane your head around the darkened corners of the room, your mind spinning.
He can’t leave the way he wants to.
“Helaena?” you call.
The way he wants to.
“Jaehaera?”
Aemond calls your name and you turn as he enters the library, his pace brisk.
“Come on,” he says, grabbing your hand, “Grab the baby. And Jaehaera, we’re leaving.”
He pulls you forward, and you nearly lose your footing, his hand holding yours tightly.
“Now?” you ask, your tone concerned.
“We’ll stay somewhere in town,” he says, “It’ll be fine for a little while, then I’ll call my mother and figure something out with the house.” His voice borders on hysterical, “We’ve got to get them out. We’ve gotta get out now. Before something happens.”
“Before what happens?” you question. He can’t leave the way he wants. “Aemond wait, stop--”
“What?” he says pausing, “I’ll get Helaena and we’ll go. It’s you and me.” He places his hands on your cheeks. “We’ll all be alright.”
His eyes are wide and he’s breathing heavily. You place your hands on top of his.
“Something’s wrong,” you tell him, “Something’s not right, we can’t.”
“Why?” Aemond says, “We can, I promise you we can let… let's just go-”
“Aemond-”
“Didn’t I tell you?”
Your eyes snap towards the door at the sound of her voice. Helaena stands in the doorway, her hair and nightgown dry. Her eyes are softer, a small smile on her face.
“He’s so hopeful,” she says softly, as Aemond watches her, “Even now.”
A chill rolls down your spine as she walks into the room. Even the way she walks is whimsical like she’s floating rather than walking.
“Hel-” you begin, but your throat grows tight with emotion.
“Don’t,” she says softly, “It’s alright. I wasn’t sure before but…he knows. I think he’s known for some time.”
He knows I’m dead, she means.
“He just doesn’t want to believe it.”
This feels familiar, she’d said when standing on her balcony.
It all makes sense.
Dead from the beginning.
“I used to have so many dreams about this place,” she muses, looking up toward the ceiling, “So much suffering within these walls. Death lives within the foundation of this house. It is no wonder things are this way. When I came here….” she trails off, wetting her lips, “Everything was loud. So loud in my head. Louder than it had ever been before.”
“You died,” you tell her, piecing the story together, “When you…when you first came to Harrenhal.” Helaena smiles at you softly, her eyes sad.
“It was too loud,” she says softly, “I was grieving. It all was too much.”
“Aemond said it wasn’t you…..the screaming that night in the hall…but it was, wasn’t it?”
She doesn’t answer, her eyes just continue to flicker between you and her younger brother.
“Helaena,” Aemond says, speaking softly, “I’m so sorry. I should’ve…I should’ve-”
“Shhhh valonqar,” she says, stepping forward, stroking his cheek, “There was nothing you could have done.”
“I didn’t want this,” Aemond insists, “I just wanted...I just wanted you to be safe.”
“I am,” Helaena insists, “I’m safe. It’s so quiet now.” She looks up at the night sky, smiling to herself. “My head isn’t as loud.”
“How can that be?” Aemond asks.
“Alys meant well,” Helaena tells him, pursing her lips, “She only meant to keep you here.”
“Alys,” you realize aloud, “It was her?”
“Sometimes ... .she'd get in my head…meddle about,” Helaena says softly, “Sometimes….it’s easy to forget. Time isn’t really the same now. I would walk for hours, waking up so confused.” Her voice trails off before she turns to you. “You’ll look after them. All of them.”
You nod. Of course, you will.
“Helaena….” you say softly, “But how…”
“I’d always been sensitive, even in life,” she says softly, “Kepa called me his dreamer. It followed me in death as well I suppose.” She meets your eyes. “I don’t know who used me to speak with you. Someone here. Another spirit is not ready to show itself. Or perhaps they just don’t want to.” She sighs
You nod, unable to speak.
“I don’t want to leave you here,” Aemond says, “I don’t…I can’t do this without you.”
“It’s alright,” Helaena says, touching his cheek, “I’m here.” She presses a hand to his chest, and he places his on top of hers. “I’m with you. Do you remember what mother always said to us?”
“The invisible string,” Aemond whispers.
“It follows the people we love, connects us,” Helaena says softly, “Whenever you think of me, you pull on that, and no matter where I am, I’ll know. I am not gone. It’s just different now. But I’ll always be with you.” She smiles, “Avy jorrāelan.”
Aemond smiles through his tears, a soft laugh breaking through. He kisses the back of his sister’s hand.
“Avy jorrāelan,” he says softly, “So much, Helaena, so much.”
She presses her hand against his cheek.
“Kepus?” Jaehaera’s voice calls, “Miss Gevie?”
Helaena smiles softly at the sound of her daughter’s voice. Jaehaera enters the library, eyes widening at the sight. Helaena walks over to her, kneeling.
“It’s time for me to go,” she says softly.
“I don’t want you to,” Jaehara says, her voice small, “Alys said…she said we could all stay.”
“No,” Helaena says, voice soft but firm, “No, you, my sweet girl, must go.” She brushes some hair from Jaehaera’s face, tears welling in her eyes, “There is so much world for you to see. So much life for you to live.”
“But what about you?” Jaehaera asks, tears falling down her cheeks, “What about you muña?”
Helaena smiles through her tears, her voice breaking, “My journey ends here.”
“No!” Jaehaera insists, stomping her foot.
Helaena presses a hand to her heart, bringing the other to Jaehaera’s. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you inhale a ragged breath and Aemond takes your hand in his. You hadn’t realized you were crying as well until he wiped a tear from your cheek.
“I am always with you,” she says softly, “Do you hear me? Always.”
Jaehaera places her hand on top of Helaena’s nodding despite her tears. Helaena pulls her close, embracing her tightly, kissing the top of her head, and smoothing her hair. She whispers something you do not catch.
Jaehaera kisses her mother’s cheek before hurrying over to you. She hugs your legs, holding on tightly.
“Let Rhaenyra have the house,” Helaena tells Aemond, “Tell Daemon. If it is Harrenhal they truly want, give it to them. This family has seen enough fighting for a lifetime.”
Aemond lowers his head.
Helaena turns suddenly, eyes bright.
“I hear him again,” she says smiling, “He likes to hide, but I always find him.” She turns back to you all one final time, “We’ll be okay Aemond. Alys and I, we’ll look after one another. Be happy.”
Aemond stifles a sob and Helaena is gone. Jaehaera clings to you, pressing further against you and the three of you sink to the floor, holding onto one another.
A Few Weeks Later
Summerhall house is bright; the walls of the first floor are made entirely of windows that overlook the mountains and the Dornish Marches. The air is turning colder with the promise of autumn, but that hasn’t stopped Jaehaera from playing outdoors.
A soft meow makes you glance down as Morghul rubs against your calf. The black kitten meows once more before softly padding down the steps and into the grass. She appeared to Jaehaera soon after relocating to Summerhal, never straying far from her side.
A swing hangs from a large oak tree and she loves to play on it. Though now she rests below the trunk of the tree. You’ll check on her in a moment, once Maelor’s eyes flutter shut and you pass him into Aemond’s arms.
You rise from your seat on the porch and walk down the steps. The grass is warm and soft under your bare feet. The afternoon sunlight bathes the yard in warm golden light.
“Everything alright?” you ask Jaehaera who simply smiles, showing you what she’d found.
“A spider,” she says, “I’m not afraid of them anymore.”
“No?”
“Muña wouldn’t want me to be afraid.”
You smile, watching as she releases the creature against the trunk of the tree, watching as it scurries away.
“No,” you agree, placing a kiss on top of Jaehaera’s head, “I suppose she wouldn’t.”
Jaehaera returns to her swing and asks you to push her. You agree, letting her laughter wash over you. You understand Helaena more and more each day. You only want them to be happy, only want them to be safe and loved.
The world may be full of unknowns, but you and Aemond are not. Here, with you they are safe, they are loved.
This may be enough.
note: As always when I finish a series thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! For reading my work, for your lovely reblogs, and for your thoughtful comments, I cannot thank you enough for your love and support! This has been an absolute blast to write and share with you! Until next time besties, I love you all so much, and Happy Halloween! 🎃
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#aemond x reader#modern!aemond#modern!aemond x reader#aemond targaryen fic#halloween fic#aemond x you#aemond x y/n#aemond x fem!reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x y/n#modern au#halloween au#aemond targaryen#aemond series#hotd series#fanfic series#halloween fanfic#aemond fanfiction#aemond smut
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