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emjayewrites · 11 days

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All For Us (Lewis Hamilton SMAU)

SUMMARY: Lewis Hamilton secretly dates an older woman with a daughter and the public slowly starts connecting the dots. [smau w/narrative]

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x influencer!OC Bree King (faceclaim is Sasha Exeter)

WARNINGS: verbal/emotional abuse from an ex, drama, age gap romance (Bree is 2 years older than Lewis), formula one b.s., pre-established relationship, step-daddy Lewis. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!

TAGLIST: @cocobutterqwueen @httpsserene @mauvecherie-writes @galatially @pausmoon @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @weetjy @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @blveeeeeee @sugardontbesweet @omgsuperstarg @bluesole16 @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @royallyprincesslilly @jasmindaughteroftheworld @motheroffae @hrlzy @xoscar03

A/N: Read the warnings!! This oneshot may be triggering!! Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

Lewis grinned as Bree's face appeared on his FaceTime screen. "There she is! My favorite lady."

"I should hope that's still the case," Bree teased with a wink before turning her head. "Sloane, baby, come say hi to Lewis!"

A moment later, Bree's eight-year-old daughter popped into view, her face lighting up with excitement. "Lewis! Hi!!"

"Hey there, Sloane!" Lewis' smile widened. "Having fun at camp?"

The little girl nodded vigorously. "It's so cool! We went canoeing yesterday and I caught the biggest frog ever!"

"No way, that's amazing!" Lewis played along. "You'll have to show me next time I see you. Which is actually why I FaceTimed..." He glanced at Bree, who gave him an encouraging nod before he proceeded. "I was wondering if you and your mom are still planning to come to my race in Montreal next week?" he asked Sloane. "It'll be my last chance to see you before you go back to school."

"YES!!" Sloane pumped her fist in the air emphatically. "We're definitely coming! I can't wait!"

Bree chuckled fondly and ruffled her daughter's hair. As her eyes met Lewis again over the video call, her expression was full of meaning.

Though keeping their relationship under wraps wasn't easy, moments like this made it worth it to Lewis. Having this slice of domestic bliss, however ephemeral, grounded him in a way he never could have imagined before meeting Bree and her daughter. It was a small price to pay for the unexpected joy of finally finding someone who knew the real him - flaws and all.

Their relationship was still so new, barely six months old, but he felt more at peace with Bree than he could have imagined. Bree understood the punishing demands his career brought in a way no one else could. With her own entrepreneurial spirit and drive, she never asked him to compromise his ambition. If anything, she helped stoke it.

Yes, the secrecy could be tedious at times. But Lewis didn't mind. After a lifetime in the spotlight, he relished having this one thing that was just for him and Bree. At least for now.

Race day arrived and Bree made her way through the hustle and bustle of the Montreal Grand Prix paddock. Despite Sloane's excitement in the lead-up, her father had pulled one of his typical selfish moves at the last minute by insisting on taking her to the zoo that day instead.

Bree felt that familiar pang of disappointment mixed with resignation. Her ex had been more of a sperm donor than an actual parent to their daughter from the day Sloane was born. He only seemed to appear when it was convenient for him, not Sloane.

Pushing those negative thoughts aside, Bree focused on the thrill of being here to support Lewis. As an influencer, she had initially been given paddock access through her partnership with Peroni, but over the last few months, as her relationship with Lewis intensified, racing had become personal.

"You must be Bree!" She spun around at the greeting to see a tall, stocky man striding towards her, hand outstretched. Spinz stood around six-foot-three and was built like a linebacker, with a lightly tanned skin tone. His smile was kind and friendly as he enthusiastically shook her hand. "I'm Daniel, but you can call me Spinz."

"It's so great to finally meet you! Lewis has told me loads about you," Bree mentioned happily.

"Likewise," Spinz replied genuinely. "I've heard so many stories, it's nice to finally put a face to the name."

Lewis and she had been intentionally slow about intermingling friends and family. They didn't want to rush things before they were both exclusive and comfortable, yet now that Sloane had grown so fond of Lewis, it felt right to begin that integration.

"Can't believe my man is finally bringing his girlfriend around the paddock!" Spinz continued, laughing delightedly. "Bout time, if you ask me." This emitted a chuckle from Bree. "Well, since you're finally here, allow me to give you the grand tour," Spinz offered, gesturing for her to follow him. "Lewis is still doing his pre-race routine, but I can show you around until he's free."

Bree nodded eagerly, falling into step beside the towering Spinz as he led them through the controlled chaos of the paddock. He pointed out the various team garages, the hospitality suites, and regaled her with funny behind-the-scenes stories from past races.

Despite the unfamiliar environment, Bree instantly felt at ease with Spinz's warm presence and easy banter. She could understand why he and Lewis had been mates for so long. There was an affable authenticity to him that put her instantly at ease.

"And this...is the sacred ground," Spinz proclaimed dramatically as they walked inside the Mercedes garage. "Though I suppose for you, it's more like hallowed ground at this point, eh?" He elbowed her teasingly.

Bree laughed, shoving him back playfully. "That's one way to put it, I suppose. I have to admit, seeing this side of his life up close is still taking some getting used to."

Before Spinz could respond, a familiar voice spoke out. "Hi, baby."

Bree shifted her gaze to see Lewis walking over to them, clad in his racing suit. His eyes crinkled behind his sunglasses as he pulled her into an embrace. She melted into his arms, inhaling his familiar warm scent.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, gorgeous. Pre-race craziness, you know how it is," Lewis murmured, lowering his voice. "But I'm all yours now."

He leaned in to place a soft kiss on her lips. Even with the smile on his face, Bree could sense that something seemed a bit off with him.

"How are you?" Bree asked gently.

Lewis let out an exasperated sigh. "Comme ci, comme ça." He made a wavering 'so-so' gesture with his hand to emphasize his point.

Bree's expression was knowing. "Ah, I see." With a slow blink, she decided not to pry further for now.

"Let's not worry about that now, okay?" Lewis gave her a lopsided grin, clearly wanting to change the subject. "Everything good with you? How was the tour with Spinz?"

"Great, Spinz was awesome. Thank you again for the tour," Bree replied, smiling at Lewis' friend.

Spinz waved it off. "No problem at all. I'll leave you two to it. Lew, I'll catch up with you later?"

"Of course, man." Lewis pulled Spinz in for one of their signature dap-up handshake hugs before his friend departed.

"Now that that's out of the way..." Lewis trailed off, snaking his arms around Bree's waist and pulling her close. "I can finally kiss you like I've been wanting to."

"Oh, so it's like that, Sir Hamilton?" Bree teased, removing his sunglasses to gaze into his warm brown eyes. "There, that's better. I can actually see those pretty eyes of yours now."

Lewis batted his lashes exaggeratedly. "You like what you see, huh? I could get used to all this flattery."

With that, he leaned in and captured her lips in a lingering, tender kiss, the troubles of the earlier melting away as he lost himself in her being.

Bree paced near the gate, phone pressed to her ear as she listened to her ex-husband's latest tirade.

"You're really going to let some race car driver try to one-up me as a father figure for Sloane? Come on, Bree. This guy is just a fling - he'll get bored of playing house eventually and leave you high and dry."

She bristled at his condescending tone, upset rising in her chest. Before she could snap back, her gaze landed on Sloane sitting nearby. The little girl was utterly engrossed, flipping through a "Formula One for Kids" book in preparation for their time at Silverstone.

The sight of her daughter's pure, unbridled excitement instantly calmed Bree's anger. She took a steadying breath before responding.

"You know what, you're right - you shouldn't be threatened because unlike you, Lewis actually shows up for Sloane," she stated evenly. "He's been more of a parent to her in six months than you have her whole life."

There was an indignant sputtering on the other end, but Bree kept talking before he could interject.

"Don't project your guilt about being an absentee dad onto my relationship. This isn't about you. It's about giving our daughter some stability and male role model who wants to be present."

The overhead speaker crackled to life, an announcement requesting they begin boarding their flight to Paris. Bree knew she needed to hang up now if they wanted to make it.

"I'm done wasting my time on this. We're boarding now. Maybe next time you can join us instead of just criticizing from the sidelines." She ended the call with a tap before he could respond.

Turning to Sloane, Bree plastered on a brilliant smile, letting the contentment of this new chapter wash over her.

"You ready for our adventure, baby girl?"

Sloane beamed up at her mother, curls bouncing as she nodded enthusiastically. "So ready! This is gonna be the best vacation ever!"

As they joined the line to board, hand-in-hand, Bree felt a swell of gratitude. Her daughter deserved all the happiness in the world - and she'd do whatever it took to provide it, with or without Sloane's father.

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

"No, no, you've got the lyrics all wrong!" Sloane collapsed in a fit of giggles as Lewis dramatically belted out his very off-key rendition of "We Don't Talk About Bruno" from Encanto, which was playing on the TV.

"What are you talking about? This is exactly how it goes!" Lewis protested, bopping around their hotel suite and encouraging Sloane to sing and dance along with him.

Bree watched the scene unfold with a content smile, sipping her coffee as her boyfriend and daughter's musical silliness filled the room. It had been a long but utterly joyful day exploring the magic of Paris together.

As the next song from the movie came on, Lewis grabbed Sloane's hands and started twirling her around in an impromptu dance number. Sloane squealed with laughter, trying her best to follow his goofy choreography.

Despite having to attend a couple of fashion shows, Lewis insisted on making the most of their time together. He had kicked things off with a surprise shopping trip that morning to Dior, allowing Bree and Sloane to play dress-up before walking away with an entirely new boutique-worthy wardrobe.

From there, it was on to take in the splendor of Parisian culture and sights. They strolled along the Champs-Élysées, stopping to snack on crispy crepes and macarons. Lewis delighted in teaching Sloane a few French phrases, though she quickly realized he was cheekily mispronouncing things.

As evening fell, Lewis whisked them away to a breathtaking circus show at Cirque Phénix. Sloane's eyes were saucers the entire time as she watched the daring acrobats and exotic animals perform. When it was over, she kept asking "How did they DO that?!" in awed tones.

Finally, they capped the night off with a decadent multi-course dinner at an acclaimed family-owned bistro. Even Sloane was lured into trying cuisine well beyond her usual mac-and-cheese comfort zone.

Now, lounging in their luxury hotel after baths, it was the perfect way to wind down after a memory-making day. Lewis intentionally kept the mood light and fun, perhaps sensing Bree needed a break from any lingering emotional fallout after her ex's cruel words.

Lewis and Sloane collapsed in a giggling heap on the suite's plush rug, exhausted but elated. Pressing kisses to Sloane's flushed cheeks, Lewis grinned contentedly.

"Best day ever, right team?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

As the Silverstone Grand Prix weekend approached, Lewis became adamant that Bree and Sloane finally meet his family. They would all be in attendance on Sunday to cheer him on at his beloved home race.

"It's time," he stated firmly one night as they relaxed together in bed. "You two are the most important people in my life now. I want my family to really know you both."

Bree felt a flutter of nerves, knowing this was a big step. In all his years as a global celebrity, Lewis had only ever brought one other woman home to meet his parents and siblings - his ex-girlfriend from years ago. There hadn't been anyone serious enough since then to warrant those introductions, until Bree came along.

Saturday night arrived, and Bree smoothed her hands down the summer dress she had carefully selected. She caught a glimpse of her anxious expression in the mirror and exhaled slowly.

Get it together, she scolded herself.

So what if she was a few years older than Lewis, and a single mom at that? His family seemed warm and supportive based on what little she knew. Surely they wouldn't judge her too harshly, right?

The sudden image of them dismissing her as some gold-digging cougar flashed through Bree's mind before she could stop it. She shook her head firmly. Those were her own insecurities talking, not reality.

"You ready, gorgeous?" Lewis' voice pulled her from her reverie. He stood in the doorway, Sloane's little hand clasped securely in his own.

Bree managed a tremulous smile and nodded. "As I'll ever be. Let's do this."

They made their way to the private dining room at Dishoon's, where Lewis' family awaited. The moment they entered, multiple pairs of eyes widened almost comically at the picture before them - Lewis holding Sloane's hand while his other arm wrapped protectively around Bree's waist.

Bree felt her cheeks warm as the hushed murmurs started. Lewis simply grinned, surveying the room with an almost smug satisfaction.

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet the two leading ladies in my life..." he began by way of introduction. "This is Bree and Sloane."

What followed was a cheerful commotion of hugs, back slaps and well-wishes as Lewis deftly made the rounds. To Bree's relief, his family seemed just as warm and gregarious as he had described.

If anything, they seemed impressed by her vibrant spirit and career accomplishments. Lewis' father in particular was delighted to discover Bree's Caribbean heritage, insisting they were practically "family already."

At one point, Lewis was gently pulled aside by his mother, Carmen. Concern furrowed the older woman's brow as she studied her son intently.

"So...what do you think of her, Mum?" Lewis asked almost shyly.

Carmen's expression softened as she glanced over at where Bree and Nicola were giggling together. "I think...I haven't seen you look this happy and fully yourself in a long time, sweetie."

She reached up to cup Lewis' cheek, her eyes shining with emotion. "That girl clearly adores you. And you've already taken her little one into your heart as well."

Lewis' smile was beatific as he covered his mother's hand with his own. "She's the one, Mum. I'm going to marry her someday."

Carmen arched an eyebrow, though her tone remained gentle. "Are you ready for that? To be a father to that little girl, and take on all those responsibilities?"

Lewis didn't hesitate. "More than ready," he stated with conviction. "Bree and Sloane...they're my world now. I can't imagine my life without them in it."

Pulling his mother into a firm embrace, Lewis felt his heart swell almost to bursting. For so many years, this kind of profound contentment had eluded him despite all his success. But somehow, fate had brought these two incredible ladies into his life. And he would spend every day showing them how indescribably grateful he was.

As they prepared for their upcoming trip to Grenada, articles started appearing in The Sun and The Daily Mail hinting that Lewis was dating Bree. Twitter was going crazy, with Lewis' massive fandom mostly showing support, especially after photos and videos surfaced of him with Sloane at the Silverstone race weekend. Sloane had been put 'in charge' of caring for Lewis' beloved English bulldog, Roscoe, and both she and the dog were practically attached to Lewis' hip the entire time.

Meanwhile, Sloane's father was up in arms once more about the apparent relationship. Bree's phone rang with the sperm donor himself on the other line.

"How dare you let that race car driver get so close to my child!" he yelled. "He thinks he can just swoop in and play dad now?"

"I mean someone has to do it," Bree muttered under her breath.

"I'm going to sue for full custody if you keep letting that man around my daughter!" Sloane's father shouted over the phone. "You're just a useless whore letting any man walk all over you!"

It was at that moment that Lewis came walking into the kitchen, having just finished playing in the backyard with Sloane. He immediately sensed the tension on Bree's face.

"Give me the phone," Lewis said firmly, holding his hand out.

Bree shook her head, not wanting to subject him to her ex's vitriol. But then the man's voice came through again.

Lewis' jaw clenched and he commanded again, "The phone, Bree. Now."

Reluctantly, she passed it over, her eyes apologetic. Lewis gave her a reassuring nod before putting the phone to his ear. "Who the fuck do you think you are, speaking to her like that?" he said sternly.

"Who do YOU think you are?" the man retorted. "You have no right getting cozy with my kid!"

Lewis' expression hardened. "I care deeply about both Bree and Sloane," he stated firmly. "And I'll be damned if I let you disrespect them like this."

"You think you can just insert yourself into my daughter's life?" Sloane's father sneered. "Playing father figure and getting handsy with her mother? Over my dead fuckin' body."

She opened her mouth to let loose a blistering retort, but Lewis squeezed her shoulder lightly.

"Listen here, mate," Lewis' voice was low but resonant with conviction. "I love that little girl as if she were my own flesh and blood. Sloane is everything to me, to us. And I'll be damned if you try to keep us apart with your selfishness and toxic presence."

Bree's breath caught at the fierce protectiveness in Lewis' words. She covered his hand with her own, lending him her strength.

On the other end, Sloane's father sputtered indignantly before finding his voice again. "You arrogant prick! You can't just—"

"That's enough." Lewis's words sliced through the man's tirade like a whip. "Your disrespect ends now. And if you continue speaking to Bree this way, you'll never see Sloane again."

There was a pause on the other end. "Is that a threat?" Sloane's father spat.

"No," Lewis said coldly. "It's a promise." He disconnected the call and turned his full attention to Bree, wrapping his arms around her firmly. "How long has he been talking to you like that, love?"

Bree let out a shaky breath, leaning into his embrace. "Not long...just when we started getting serious."

Lewis scoffed, rolling his eyes at her ex's audacity. The man had been absent for most of Sloane's life, and now that another man was stepping up, he wanted to play father?

"Next time he does that, record it," Lewis instructed. "Take it to your lawyers. I don't want that piece of shit thinking he can verbally abuse you however he pleases. He's going to fuck around and end up in a ditch somewhere if he keeps going down this road."

Bree searched his eyes intently. "You would...kill for me? For us?"

"Yes." Lewis met her gaze unflinchingly. "I'd do anything for you and Sloane. Anything at all."

The fierceness in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She knew, without a doubt, that he meant every word.

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

Bree sighed contentedly as she gazed out at the pristine Grenadian beach. So much had happened so quickly - meeting Lewis' friends and family, being accepted into their fold almost instantly alongside Sloane, yet it all felt so natural, like the missing pieces finally clicking into place.

Her eyes shielded from the brilliant sun, she watched as Lewis chased the waves with Sloane, both of them shrieking with laughter. He looked utterly gorgeous with his toned, tattooed physique glistening with saltwater, the picture-perfect image of a doting father. The idea of giving Sloane a sibling, with Lewis as the dad, sounded unexpectedly appealing. Though she had a few eggs frozen, she wondered if pregnancy at her age would be difficult, but as scary as that thought was, she couldn't fathom being with anyone else. Their seven month relationship felt more profound than any bond she'd ever known.

Down the beach, Lewis was helping Sloane construct an elaborate sandcastle, patting the wet sand into turrets.

"Lewis?" Sloane piped up suddenly.

"Yes, princess?"

"Do you love my mom?"

He smiled warmly. "Yes, I do. Very much. And I love you too."

Sloane beamed, delighted by his answer. "Will you marry my mom then? My parents were married but then they got divorced."

Lewis' heart melted at her hopeful expression. "You want me to make an honest woman out of your mum?"

She nodded vigorously. "I just want her to be happy."

"I promise I'll do everything I can to make you both happy," he vowed. "But would it be okay with you, if I married your mum?"

"Duh!" Sloane rolled her eyes dramatically. "I already think of you as my bonus dad."

Lewis felt his throat tighten with emotion at Sloane's words. This amazing little girl and her mother had utterly stolen his heart.

Gently, he pulled Sloane into a hug, resting his chin atop her head. "You know I love you like you're my own daughter, right? You and your mum are everything to me."

Sloane nodded against his chest. "I know. That's why you should marry her." She pulled back to look up at him with those big, innocent eyes. "Will you be my dad for real then?"

"Of course, princess," Lewis murmured, brushing the sandy hair from her face. "If your mum will have me, I'd be honored to be your dad in every way that matters."

Sloane grinned, throwing her little arms around his neck excitedly. Down the beach, Bree watched the tender scene with a wistful smile. She could clearly see the love between Lewis and her daughter - it was undeniable.

As if he could sense her eyes on him, Lewis glanced over and raised a hand in a beckoning wave. Bree rose fluidly to her feet and made her way over, sandals dangling from one hand.

"Everything okay over here?" she asked lightly as she approached.

Lewis stood, pulling Bree flush against his side with his free arm. "More than okay," he replied, dropping a kiss on her salty hair. "We're building a sandcastle estate and could use the extra hands, right Sloane?" Sloane was too busy packing buckets full of wet sand into elaborate castle molds to answer and Lewis shrugged. "Alrighty then, let's get to work."

As they worked together under the warm sun, Bree couldn't help but feel grateful for these moments of simple joy with the little family she created.

The Las Vegas Grand Prix was in full swing, and Lewis was basking in the excitement of being publicly "Instagram official" with Bree. He had Bree by his side, and he was so happy to be able to publicly show off their relationship.

It wasn't that he cared what anyone else thought - Lewis had never been one to seek approval or validation from others. But having Bree by his side made everything feel more real, more solid. She was his rock, his anchor in this wild world of racing. These last few months, although crazy at times, were the best memories to experience with Bree.

And she looked stunning as always. Her long dark hair cascaded down her back in soft waves and her fitted red dress hugged her curves in all the right places. She was by Lewis' side through all the glitzy festivities and parties surrounding the race weekend, including the launch of his Almave pop-up bar. With Sloane spending the weekend with Bree's mother, it was a kid-free getaway, and he intended to take full advantage.

He knew Bree's ex-husband would be fuming seeing pictures of them together online, but Lewis didn't give two flying fucks about him anymore. He was focused solely on Bree and the profound happiness she brought him. Bree's arm was looped through his as they made their way through the crowded VIP party for the race sponsors. He greeted familiar faces with warmth and charm, introducing her to everyone he knew.

"You're a natural at this," Lewis remarked as they headed towards the bar for some much-needed drinks.

Bree laughed and rolled her eyes playfully. "Please, I'm just winging it."

He shook his head in mock disapproval as they approached the bar. "Don't sell yourself short," he said seriously before turning to order their drinks.

_____________________________________

After dinner one evening at their hotel's high-end restaurant, fans swarmed Lewis for autographs as they exited. "You're a lucky man," one told him, eyeing Bree appreciatively. "She's gorgeous."

Lewis' arm tightened around her waist. "I know," he said simply, pride warming his tone.

Back in their suite, they came together in a heated clash of lips and roving hands, shedding clothes as they stumbled towards the bedroom. Bree reveled in the hard planes of Lewis' body, tracing the lines of his tattoos as he worshipped her with his mouth.

He lifted her up effortlessly and carried her to bed, laying her down gently before joining on top of her, settling between her legs. Their bodies fit together perfectly like puzzle pieces as they moved together in a rhythm that felt almost too familiar now.

Every time they made love was like a brand new experience for them both. They never grew tired of exploring each other's bodies or finding new ways to pleasure one another.

In between stolen kisses and whispered declarations of love, they lost themselves completely in each other until they reached that explosive climax. Afterwards, they lay sated and tangled in the plush hotel linens. Bree traced idle patterns across Lewis' chest as he tucked her against his side.

"Have you thought about getting married again?" he asked quietly.

Bree's head whipped up in surprise. "Here? In Vegas?"

Lewis chuckled, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "No, love. No offense to others, but I could never get married here. I meant...in a year or two, maybe. With me."

Her breath caught at the meaningful weight behind his words. "I...actually think about that a lot," she admitted shyly. "I can see us having a future together."

Warmth bloomed in Lewis' eyes. "You can?"

Bree nodded, feeling herself get swept up in the thrilling certainty of what she felt for this man. "Yes. A real future - marriage, forever."

Lewis looked utterly overjoyed as he cupped her face tenderly. "Okay then...future Lady Hamilton."

A startled laugh bubbled up from Bree's lips. "Lady Hamilton? Is that what I'll be since you're Sir Lewis?"

"Precisely." His grin was terribly smug. "Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"It sounds like some character from Bridgerton!" she giggled, swatting his chest playfully.

Lewis joined in her mirth, nodding wholeheartedly in agreement. "I can see the resemblance."

Bree's laughter slowly faded as she gazed at the man she loved with every fiber of her being.

Her future husband - it had a deliciously appealing ring to it.

The End.....or is it?

#all for us #sir lewis hamilton #emjayewrites #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x oc #f1 x reader

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planet-marz1 · 6 months

Text

Is It Over Now?

Summary: Still reeling from Joel's revelation, you find solace in someone new. Pairing: Joel x F!Reader Word Count: ~7.1k

Tags/Warnings:18+MDNI no use of y/n, jackson!joel, established relationship, angst, somewhat? happy ending, infidelity, joel just kinda sucks honestly,alcohol consumption, implied smut (not with joel), lots of joel tears, pet names (sweetheart), jealousy, insecurities, self doubt, reader is in her healing era, reader slaps a bitch (it's deserved, I swear)

A/N: Hi! This is the second, and final part of this series, though I have a few more drabbles & oneshots planned to write and post. This is dedicated to my love @kajashe 💗 and thank you to my beloved @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for beta reading this for me! and yet another thank you to all of my friends who listened to me ramble on about this for the past several days in discord 💜

beautiful dividers by @/saradika

follow my fic updates blog @planetmarz1-notifs

| part i | series masterlist | main masterlist |

The passing weeks were a blur of emotional turmoil and quiet introspection. The once-familiar routines of life felt like a distant memory, replaced by a persistent ache that accompanied every moment of solitude. Your days were marked by the slow process of healing, a journey undertaken one painful step at a time.

Joel had respected your request for space, retreating to the refuge of his brother Tommy's home. The absence of his presence in your shared space only served as a constant reminder of the void that had opened up in your life. Jackson carried on with its daily rhythm, oblivious to the personal upheaval that had unfolded within its walls.

Nights were the hardest. The quiet darkness seemed to amplify the echoes of the past, and sleep became an elusive visitor. The couch where you had waited for Joel that fateful night became a throne of solitude, the cushions bearing silent witness to the nights spent wrestling with the fragments of a broken heart.

In moments of vulnerability, you allowed yourself to revisit the memories of the life you had built together. Photographs adorned the walls, frozen moments in time that now carried the weight of bittersweet nostalgia. The laughter, the shared dreams, and the quiet moments of connection—all now tainted by the knowledge of his betrayal.

The settlement's whispers reached your ears—a mix of sympathy, curiosity, and the well-intentioned attempts of friends trying to fill the void left by Joel's absence. Their concern was palpable, but the wounds were still fresh, the healing a slow and arduous process.

Alone in the quiet living room, the remnants of your shattered relationship lingered like ghosts in the air. The moon cast a cold glow through the window, illuminating the space where the truth had been laid bare. The weight of Joel's confession hung heavy in the room, and you were left grappling with a mix of emotions that threatened to consume you.

You sat on the couch, staring into the darkness outside, your mind racing to make sense of the betrayal. Every corner of the room seemed to echo with the whispers of the life you thought you knew, now tainted by the harsh reality of Joel's infidelity.

The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant sounds of the settlement outside. You replayed the moments leading up to this revelation, searching for signs you might have missed, clues that could have prepared you for the storm that had now engulfed your relationship.

The ache in your chest deepened, and you could feel the hot prickle of tears threatening to spill over. Anguish, betrayal, and confusion mingled in a tumultuous storm within you. You wanted answers, an explanation that could somehow make sense of the wreckage now surrounding you.

The clock on the wall ticked away the seconds, marking the passage of time in a world that suddenly felt unfamiliar. As you sat there in the quiet, you wondered how the foundation of your life had crumbled so swiftly, like sand slipping through your fingers.

Outside, the settlement continued its slumber, blissfully unaware of the personal cataclysm unfolding within your home. You needed time to process the truth, to navigate the emotional minefield that now lay before you.

The door creaked open, and Joel stepped back into the room, his eyes filled with regret. The air tensed as he hesitated, unsure of his place in this shattered reality. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice heavy with the weight of the words.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his. The distance between you felt insurmountable, a vast chasm that had opened up in the wake of his betrayal. "I need time to figure this out," you said, your voice steady despite the tempest of emotions within you.

Joel nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the consequences he had brought upon himself. As he left the room again, the door closing softly behind him, you were left alone with the wreckage of a love that had weathered countless storms, only to be undone by the tempest within.

So here you are now, at the Tipsy Bison, with its low hum of conversations and the comforting clink of glasses, served as a temporary escape from the turmoil within. The dimly lit bar offered a semblance of solace, a place to drown the sorrows that had become constant companions.

You sat alone at the bar, nursing a drink, the amber liquid reflecting the flickering candlelight. The weight of recent events lingered, a heavy burden you sought to momentarily cast aside. The soft music in the background provided a melancholic soundtrack to the evening.

As you stared into the depths of your drink, Noah took the seat next to you—a familiar face in the crowd, someone you'd seen around the settlement but never really paid much attention to. His attempts at small talk were met with your usual indifference. In the past, your loyalty to Joel had been unwavering, and the idea of entertaining advances from others never crossed your mind.

Tonight, however, the rules had shifted. The wounds of heartbreak were still raw, and the empty space beside you echoed the absence of a familiar presence. Noah persisted, undeterred by your initial disinterest.

"Rough night?" he asked, a half-smile playing on his lips.

You looked at him, a mixture of exhaustion and pain in your eyes. "You could say that."

Noah nodded, understanding glinting in his eyes. "Sometimes a drink is the only company we've got."

A subtle smile played on your lips as you reciprocated his banter. "Seems like you're here for more than just the drinks."

He chuckled, a warmth in his voice. "Well, it's not every night I get to share the bar with someone as intriguing as you, sweetheart"

The dance of flirtation continued, the bar becoming a stage where you and Noah played out a scene of shared laughter and camaraderie. The soft music provided a backdrop to the banter, a temporary escape from the weight that had settled on your shoulders.

Noah leaned in, his voice a low murmur. "You know, I've seen you around, but we've never really talked. What brings you here tonight?"

You sighed, a moment of vulnerability slipping through. "Just trying to forget for a little while, I guess."

He nodded, his gaze thoughtful. "Sometimes, a little distraction is all we need."

As the night wore on, the boundaries between reality and the fleeting connection blurred. Noah became a temporary ally in a battle against the memories that threatened to engulf you. In the shadows of the Tipsy Bison, you allowed yourself a momentary escape, a reprieve from the heartache that still clung to the edges of your world.

The hours passed in a haze of shared stories and laughter. Noah proved to be an unexpected source of comfort, his presence a balm to the wounds that had yet to fully heal. The Tipsy Bison became a refuge, a sanctuary where, for a brief moment, the weight of heartbreak was lifted.

As the night progressed, Noah's conversation turned more earnest, his gaze holding a sincerity that resonated with you. "You know," he said, his voice softened by the dim ambiance of the bar, "Sometimes it helps to talk about what's going on. You don't have to carry it all alone."

The vulnerability in his words echoed the vulnerability you had been avoiding. The temptation to open up, to share the burden, tugged at the edges of your restraint. "It's just been a tough time," you admitted, a hint of gratitude in your voice.

Noah nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. "I get that. Life has a way of throwing curveballs when we least expect it."

The moment stretched, the connection between you deepening. The bar, once a backdrop for distraction, now felt like a space where two people navigating the complexities of life found common ground.

As the night neared its end, Noah leaned in, his voice a whisper. "I'm not an expert in fixing things, but if you ever need someone to listen, I'm here."

His sincerity resonated, and you nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Noah. It means more than you know."

The Tipsy Bison, with its flickering lights and the hum of conversations, witnessed a different side of you that night—a side that embraced vulnerability and sought solace in unexpected places. As you parted ways, the weight on your shoulders felt a bit lighter, and the bar's exit became a threshold to a world where healing, though uncertain, seemed a little more attainable.

The night air felt cool as you and Noah stepped out of the bar, the soft glow from the neon sign casting a gentle halo around you. The settlement slept in the quiet darkness, oblivious to the shared moments of connection that had unfolded within the bar's walls.

The walk back to your house was a journey through silent streets, the hushed conversations between you and Noah punctuated by the occasional rustle of leaves in the night breeze. The weight of the evening's revelations lingered, but in Noah's company, it felt less burdensome.

As you approached the front door, you turned to him, a newfound warmth in your eyes. "Do you want to come in? Maybe have another drink?" The invitation hung in the air, a testament to the unexpected bond that had formed between you.

Noah's response was a gentle smile "I'd like that," he said, his voice carrying a sense of genuine camaraderie.

The door opened with a soft creak, and the familiar comfort of your home greeted you both. The living room, once a witness to heartache, now seemed to hold the promise of shared moments and tentative healing.

You settled on the couch, the echoes of the night's laughter still lingering. The air felt charged with the unspoken, a connection that transcended the confines of mere friendship. As you poured another round of drinks, the silence between you felt comfortable, a space where words were unnecessary.

Noah's eyes met yours, and in that shared gaze, there was an understanding that words could not fully capture. The vulnerability of the evening had laid bare the complexities of your heart, and Noah, in his quiet way, seemed to offer a respite from the storm.

As the night unfolded, the connection deepened. Laughter, shared stories, and the gentle ebb and flow of conversation filled the room. In that unexpected companionship, you found solace—a reminder that, even in the aftermath of heartbreak, there were still moments of connection waiting to be discovered.

The time you two had spent together at the bar had been a catalyst for change, and now, in the quietude of your home, you allowed the night to unfold, unsure of where it might lead but grateful for the warmth that had found its way into the cracks of a wounded heart.

The ambiance in the room shifted subtly, the air thickening with a newfound energy that danced between you and Noah. The shared laughter and easy conversation took on a softer note, and the space on the couch seemed to shrink, drawing you both closer.

You caught Noah's gaze lingering, his eyes holding a warmth that went beyond mere camaraderie. The flickering candlelight cast a gentle glow on his features, highlighting the sincerity in his eyes. A charged silence settled between you, one that spoke volumes without the need for words.

As you sipped your drinks, the magnetic pull of the moment intensified. The shared vulnerability of the evening had forged a connection that transcended the ordinary, and in the quietude of the living room, the boundaries between friendship and something more blurred.

Noah's fingers traced absentminded patterns on the rim of his glass, and his gaze met yours with a subtle intensity. The unspoken tension hung in the air, a delicate dance that neither of you seemed eager to disrupt.

The air seemed to hum with anticipation as you leaned in, drawn by an invisible force that defied explanation. The room held its breath, and in that suspended moment, your lips brushed against each other in a gentle, tentative kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as the kiss deepened, the warmth of Noah's touch sending a current of electricity through you. The weight of heartbreak momentarily lifted, replaced by the promise of something new, something uncharted.

You don’t care about anything else but losing yourself in the feeling of being loved even if just for tonight. As the passion between you continues to escalate with each passing second, all thoughts of tomorrow fade away into oblivion leaving only this one perfect moment stretching out endlessly before the two of you like an eternal embrace.

The air in your home was filled with a mix of holiday scents — the piney aroma of the Christmas tree, the faint whiff of cinnamon from the candles scattered around the room. It was Christmas Eve, and the settlement was adorned with festive lights and decorations.

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of the deep green dress you had chosen for the occasion. Despite the outward festivities, a quiet melancholy clung to you, a reminder of the heartbreak that still lingered beneath the surface.

As you finished getting ready, the soft knock on the door signaled Noah's arrival. His presence, a comforting constant in the weeks that followed that unexpected encounter, had become a source of solace. Tonight, however, the prospect of a Christmas party loomed, and the idea of celebrating seemed to clash with the healing wounds of your past.

Noah entered, a warm smile on his face as he took in your appearance. "You look stunning," he remarked, his eyes reflecting a mixture of admiration and concern.

You managed a small smile in return, the weight of your unspoken thoughts evident in your eyes. "Thanks, Noah. I'm just not sure I'm in the festive mood, you know?"

He approached and gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "I understand. But Maria insisted, and maybe being around people, even for a little while, might help."

Reluctantly, you nodded, acknowledging the truth in his words. Maria had been a steadfast presence in your life, offering support and encouragement as you navigated the aftermath of heartbreak. Tonight's Christmas party was her attempt to bring a glimmer of joy into your world.

Together, you and Noah made your way through the decorated streets toward the town center. The settlement buzzed with festive energy — laughter, music, and the scent of holiday treats wafting through the air. As you approached the venue, the warm glow of lights spilled from the windows, casting a welcoming glow.

The Christmas Eve party in town was in full swing, with the warm glow of lights and the spirited energy of the season enveloping the settlement. As you navigated the festive atmosphere with Noah at your side, the subtle shift in your mood was palpable. The healing process was slow, but the comfort of friends and the shared moments of celebration were working their magic.

As you entered the bustling venue, your eyes caught a familiar figure across the room — Joel. Time seemed to freeze for a moment, the shock of seeing him after weeks of absence coursing through your veins. His presence cast a shadow over the festive scene, and the room suddenly felt smaller, the air heavier with unspoken history.

Noah sensed your tension, his grip on your hand tightening in a silent reassurance. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern etched across his face.

You nodded, attempting to mask the surprise that rippled beneath the surface. "Yeah, I just… I didn't expect to see him here."

Noah glanced toward Joel, his expression thoughtful. "Do you want to leave? We can go somewhere quieter."

You considered the offer, but something in you resisted the impulse to retreat. "No, let's stay. I need to face this."

Together, you and Noah approached the gathering. As Joel noticed your presence, his eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and a hint of remorse flickering in his gaze. The air crackled with the unspoken tension of past wounds and unanswered questions.

Maria, ever perceptive, approached, greeting you with an exuberant hug, her eyes filled with warmth and understanding. Her warm smile faltered as she sensed the dynamics at play. "I didn't know he would be here. I'm sorry if this is uncomfortable for you."

You offered a tight smile, the weight of the situation settling around you. "It's okay, Maria. I can handle it."

The party unfolded with the spirited energy of the season — people dancing, laughter filling the air, and the exchange of heartfelt wishes. As you moved through the festivities, Noah's hand found yours, a subtle reassurance in the midst of the crowd.

The night progressed, and despite your initial hesitations, a subtle shift occurred. The music, the laughter, and the shared moments with friends began to chip away at the walls around your heart. The healing process was ongoing, and in the company of those who cared, the weight of heartbreak felt a little lighter.

A moment of stillness settled over the room. In that quiet pause, your eyes met Joel's once more. The unspoken history, the shattered pieces of a relationship, and the complexity of emotions were etched in that shared gaze. Noah's hand found yours again, a grounding force amidst the emotional storm.

As you navigated the remainder of the Christmas party, the unspoken tension with Joel remained, but in the company of friends and the warmth of the season, you found solace. The dance of emotions continued, and as the night unfolded, you carried with you a newfound resilience, a testament to the strength found in facing the unexpected and the hope that lingers in the aftermath of heartbreak.

Amidst the swirl of holiday festivities, your eyes inadvertently caught a glimpse of Veronica across the room. Her presence, unexpected yet inevitable in a close-knit settlement, stirred a complex mix of emotions within you. As she engaged in conversation with others, a subtle ache of self-doubt crept into your thoughts.

What did she have that made Joel cheat on me with her?

The question lingered, not born out of jealousy, but rather a yearning for understanding. The doubts festered like quiet shadows in the corners of your mind, threatening to overshadow the celebratory atmosphere.

Noah sensed the shift in your demeanor, his grip on your hand tightening as a silent gesture of support. "You okay?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

You forced a small smile, attempting to dispel the doubts that threatened to cloud the festive evening. "Yeah, just unexpected seeing her here, you know?"

Noah nodded in understanding, his gaze a reassuring anchor in the sea of emotions. "You're stronger than you think. Remember that."

As you continued to navigate the party, the glimpses of Veronica sparked moments of introspection. The dance of doubt and self-reflection unfolded, but amidst it all, a deeper truth emerged — the strength to confront insecurities and the resilience to rise above the echoes of past heartbreak.

Joel remained on the periphery, a figure in the background of the unfolding drama. The unspoken tension with Veronica echoed the complexities of relationships, and in the midst of the holiday cheer, you found a quiet resolve to focus on the present and the connections that mattered most.

As the party continued, a lingering curiosity pulled you toward Veronica. The desire for closure and understanding overshadowed the self-doubt that had surfaced. The pulsating beat of the Christmas music seemed to align with the tension in the air as you approached Veronica. The crowd hushed in the wake of your confrontation, and even the festive decorations couldn't quite drown out the charged atmosphere.

This is it, you thought, your fists clenched by your sides. Time to confront the source of this mess. "Veronica," you said, your voice edged with a simmering anger. "We need to talk."

She turned, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Well, look who decided to show up. Didn't think I'd see you here."

Hold it together, you reminded yourself, swallowing the initial surge of rage. She's not worth it. Ignoring the jab, you pressed on. "Cut the crap. What happened between you and Joel?"

Veronica chuckled, a snarky glint in her eyes. "Why don't you ask him? I'm sure he's got his version of the story."

Like I haven't already tried, you thought, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. But I want to hear it from her.Your patience wore thin, and a flash of anger ignited. "I'm asking you. What did you think you were doing?"

Veronica rolled her eyes, an unapologetic tone lacing her words. "Oh, please. Don't act clueless in all of this. Joel and I, we had our reasons."

Reasons? The word echoed in your mind, a bitter taste settling on your tongue. The retort stung, and you shot back,"What reasons could there possibly be to betray someone like that?"

Keep her on the defensive, you urged yourself. Make her face the consequences of her actions.

Veronica's smirk persisted, her snarky demeanor unyielding. "Maybe you should ask Joel what he was missing at home."

No. Don't let her deflect the blame. The anger surged again, a tempest threatening to consume reason.

The words hung in the air, a venomous revelation that fueled the anger within. The crowd around you seemed to blur as the confrontation intensified, each word exchanged an arrow that pierced through the facade of festive cheer.

Everyone knew, you mused bitterly. The whole damn town knew you and Joel were together.

As the exchange reached its peak, the energy between you and Veronica crackled with unresolved emotions. The pulsating beat of the music in the background seemed to align with the tension in the air, the crowd still hushed in the wake of your confrontation. Each word exchanged felt like a seismic tremor, shaking the foundations of the festive atmosphere.

"You're unbelievable," you seethed, the anger boiling over. "I hope you're proud of yourself." Stay strong, you reminded yourself, fighting against the torrent of emotions. You've got this.

Veronica shrugged, a nonchalant expression masking any hint of remorse. "I did what I wanted. Life's too short for regrets."

Regrets, the word echoed in your mind. Is she really that callous? Keep it together, you urged yourself, clenching your fists by your sides. Don't let her see how much she's getting to you.

Noah, sensing the escalating tension, remained by your side, a silent pillar of support. The confrontation with Veronica had become a battleground of emotions, a clash between hurt and defiance.

This is it. The moment of truth.

In a flash, the weight of anger, frustration, and betrayal coalesced into a surge of raw emotion. Without a second thought, your hand connected with Veronica's cheek in a resounding slap. The crowd, which had been observing in a stunned silence, erupted into gasps and whispers.

Veronica stumbled back, her hand on her cheek, eyes wide with a mixture of shock and indignation. The slap reverberated through the room, a cathartic release of the pent-up emotions that had been building since the revelation.

"You deserved that," you declared, your voice steady, though your heart pounded with the intensity of the moment.

As Noah guided you away from the charged atmosphere, the weight of the confrontation lingered. The Christmas party resumed its festive cheer, but the encounter with Veronica had become a defining chapter, a moment where you asserted your strength and reclaimed a sense of control in the aftermath of betrayal.

The brisk night air greeted you as you and Noah stepped out of the lively Christmas party. The settlement was adorned with a soft blanket of snow, and the crunch of each footstep echoed in the quiet winter night. The atmosphere outside was a stark contrast to the charged energy that had filled the party just moments before.

Noah kept a reassuring arm around you as you navigated the snowy path toward your house. The silence between you was a comforting one, a respite from the emotional turbulence of the evening. The distant sounds of laughter from the party gradually faded into the serene stillness of the snowy landscape.

The glow of the settlement's lights reflected off the pristine snow, casting a soft illumination on the familiar path. The events of the night lingered in the air, and as you reached your doorstep, you turned to Noah with a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion.

"Thanks for being there," you said, your voice carrying the weight of the emotions that had unfolded.

Noah nodded, his expression filled with understanding. "Anytime. You handled that with a lot of strength."

You managed a small smile, appreciating his support. "I just want to move forward, you know? Leave all this behind."

The snowflakes continued to fall, adding a sense of serenity to the moment. As you opened the door to your home, the warmth inside offered a stark contrast to the chilly night. The familiar surroundings provided a sense of solace, a haven away from the echoes of the confrontation.

The air in the room felt heavy with unspoken tension as you confronted Joel about his infidelity. The harsh reality of betrayal lingered, casting a shadow over the relationship you had thought was secure.

"Why, Joel?" you demanded, your voice a mix of pain and anger. "Who was it? Who did you cheat on me with?"

Joel hesitated, his eyes avoiding yours for a moment before meeting your gaze with a mixture of regret and guilt. "It was Veronica," he confessed, the weight of the revelation hanging in the air.

Veronica's name echoed in your mind, a face from the town, someone you had known, someone whose presence had been intertwined with your life in the settlement. The shock of the revelation was like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, the room seemed to spin.

"Veronica?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. The name felt like a betrayal in itself, a person who had shared the same space as you, someone you had considered a part of the community.

Joel's expression shifted, a mix of remorse and desperation. "I messed up, It wasn't about her. It was about me, about the mistakes I made."

The words did little to ease the pain, and the room became a battleground of conflicting emotions. Anguish, betrayal, and disbelief swirled within you, a storm of feelings that threatened to overwhelm.

As you absorbed the revelation, the weight of the truth settled. Veronica, a name that had been a mere background detail in the tapestry of your life, now held a significance that cut deep. The confrontation with Joel had peeled back the layers of the facade, revealing a reality you had never anticipated.

In the midst of the emotional maelstrom, you took a step back, needing distance to process the harsh truth. The room, once a sanctuary, felt foreign and unwelcoming. The echoes of the revelation hung in the air, and as Joel sought words of apology, you grappled with the shattered pieces of a relationship that had crumbled in the wake of betrayal.

The weight of that night lingered in your thoughts. Veronica's presence, once a casual detail in the fabric of your life, had become a symbol of a painful chapter in your past. The journey of healing continued, marked by the scars of the confrontation and the resolve to move forward, one step at a time.

The soft murmur of pages turning and the hushed whispers of readers created a peaceful ambiance in the small settlement's library. As the librarian, you were engrossed in arranging the shelves when the door creaked open. A tall, rugged man entered, a hint of unfamiliarity etched into the lines of his face.

Joel, a newcomer to the community, you’d seen him around town with a young girl practically attached at his hip. He cast an assessing glance around the room before approaching the counter where you stood. His eyes, weathered and guarded, met yours as he cleared his throat, his voice gruff but not unkind. "I'm lookin' for books about space."

You looked up from your task, offering a warm smile. "Space, huh? Planning a journey to the stars?" you teased, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Joel's lips twitched into a small smile, a rare expression on his usually stoic face. "Not exactly. Got a kid back home who's mighty interested in space. Wants to know everything there is."

Interest sparked in your eyes as you couldn't help but inquire, "Your daughter, then?"

He hesitated, a subtle shift in his gaze, but he didn't correct you. "Yeah, somethin' like that."

Your smile widened. "Well, you've come to the right place. We've got a stellar collection—pun intended."

Joel nodded, a silent acknowledgment of your attempt at humor. "Good to know."

As you led him through the aisles, the conversation flowed easily. He shared stories of Ellie, a girl he watched over, protected, and cared for deeply. The love in his words painted a vivid picture, and when you mentioned how wonderful it was that he and his "daughter" shared such interests, he didn't correct you.

"So, what's her favorite subject?" you asked, your tone playfully nudging towards the unspoken connection.

He chuckled, a soft warmth in his eyes. "Space, definitely. She's got a million questions about stars, planets, you name it."

You grinned, leaning slightly closer. "Well, Joel, it seems you've got a budding astronomer on your hands. Lucky for you, I'm an expert in celestial matters."

Joel's expression remained stoic, but there was a subtle glint of amusement in his eyes. "Is that so?"

You nodded, your gaze meeting his with a hint of mischief. "Absolutely. But my expertise doesn't come cheap. I'll need payment in the form of a good conversation and maybe a coffee sometime."

Joel's chuckle deepened, and a grin tugged at the corners of his lips. "Coffee, huh? You got yourself a deal."

As Joel left the library with a stack of books, you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth. The door closed behind him, leaving you with the subtle hum of excitement and the gentle echo of playful banter that seemed to linger in the air. The library, once a quiet haven of solitude, now held the promise of a story unfolding—one with celestial wonders and perhaps a touch of romance.

in the quiet moments of reflection, your mind often wandered to the time when you and Joel first met. The memory used to bring a warm smile to your face—the genuine laughter, the shared dreams, the promise of a future entwined with his. But now, each recollection was tainted by the bitter sting of betrayal, and the nostalgia had become a source of pain.

As you sat alone in the dimly lit room, the flickering shadows seemed to mimic the turbulence within your heart. The memory of your first meeting played in your mind like a melancholy film—a reminder of the love that had once been untarnished. The weight of what had transpired since then pressed down on you, leaving a bitter aftertaste to a memory that had once been so sweet.

The soft hum of a distant song, a melody you both used to share, brought a wave of conflicting emotions. Your mind wandered back to that day—the laughter, the stolen glances, the electric feeling of a connection that transcended words. It was a time when you looked into his eyes and felt like you had found something extraordinary.

But now, those memories were haunted by the echoes of his infidelity, and the rose-tinted glasses you once wore shattered, revealing the painful truth beneath. The laughter had become an echo, the glances a cruel reminder, and the connection a frayed thread threatening to unravel.

In the midst of the emotional turmoil, you found yourself thinking, almost wistfully, about what life would have been like if you'd never met Joel. The thought was a bitter pill to swallow, a testament to the depth of the wounds inflicted.

You replayed the scenes of your shared history—the highs and the lows, the joy and the heartbreak. The almost-wish lingered in the recesses of your mind, a testament to the profound impact of betrayal on the once cherished memories.

Joel has shown up at your door, trying to extend a tentative olive branch, an attempt to breach the chasm that had widened between you. His words were carefully chosen, an apology that carried the weight of remorse. He expressed a longing for resolution, a desire to face the consequences of his actions and rebuild what had been lost. “Can I come in?” he says hesitantly, trying to gauge your emotional state.

Reluctantly you nod, and step aside, allowing him into the house.

The weight of Joel's confession hung in the air. The room steeped in a heavy silence, and charged with the weight of unresolved emotions as you and Joel sat facing each other. The revelation of his infidelity with Veronica had unearthed a raw vulnerability. It had left your relationship hanging in the balance.You needed answers that transcended the initial betrayal. You both needed to confront the difficult question of where to go from here.

"Why, Joel?" you questioned, your voice steady but edged with a yearning for understanding. "I get that you were lost, but why did you keep cheating with her after the first time? Why not just admit it to me after it happened once?"

Joel's gaze met yours, his eyes carrying the weight of guilt. He took a moment before responding, as if grappling with his own internal turmoil.

"I didn't know how to face it," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "The shame, the guilt—it overwhelmed me. And every time it happened again, the weight of that guilt just grew. I was trapped in a cycle, and I couldn't find a way out."

Your brow furrowed, a mix of frustration and disbelief settling within you. "So, instead of admitting your mistake and trying to make amends, you kept it a secret and continued to betray our relationship?"

Joel nodded, the admission heavy on his conscience. "I thought if I could just stop, if I could find a way to break free from that cycle, I could spare you the pain of knowing. But each time, I failed. It became a vicious cycle I couldn't escape."

The room seemed to close in as the gravity of his words sank in. The cycle of betrayal, a web of lies and shame, had perpetuated itself, leaving both of you ensnared in the consequences.

"But why?" you pressed, your voice a mixture of frustration and sadness. "Why not face the consequences and be honest with me? We could have worked through it together, Joel."

His eyes reflected the internal struggle, a war between the truth and the self-imposed isolation he had subjected himself to. "I was scared. Scared of losing you, scared of facing disappointment. It was a selfish choice, and I see that now."

The admission hung in the air, a painful acknowledgment of the choices that had led to the fracture of trust. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a battlefield of emotions.

"So, you kept hurting me to protect yourself," you whispered, the weight of the realization settling on your shoulders.

Joel's gaze remained fixed on the floor, his silence confirming the painful truth. The unraveling of the secrets and the depths of his struggles became a sobering reality, and as you navigated the aftermath of betrayal, the room seemed to echo with the weight of unspoken regrets and the yearning for a path forward.

The room felt like a suffocating space, each revelation adding weight to the heavy air. Joel's admission of infidelity hung between you, a chasm that seemed impossible to bridge. After a moment of tense silence, you found the strength to voice the truth that had been echoing in your heart.

After a moment, you gathered the courage to voice the question that lingered in the room like an unspoken specter. "What now, Joel? What does this mean for us?"

Joel looked up, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of desperation and remorse. "I messed up. I know I can't change the past, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. If you're willing to give me another chance, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

Your gaze met his, and for a moment, the memories of a time when love flowed effortlessly between you resurfaced. There had been a time when you looked into his eyes and couldn’t imagine a future, a universe, where you didn’t stare into them for eternity. The love you had for him was one like no other, the strongest you’d ever felt for someone, for something.

But now, those eyes hold the weight of betrayal, and the road ahead seems uncertain. You took a deep breath, searching for the right words to navigate the delicate conversation.

The sincerity in his voice tugged at the frayed edges of your heart, but the wounds were fresh, and the scars of betrayal ran deep. The room seemed to hold its breath, awaiting your response.

"I can't, Joel," you said, your voice steady but laced with a profound sadness. "This-

It's too much. I can't see a way forward for us."

Joel's eyes pleaded with a mix of regret and desperation, but the gulf between you seemed insurmountable. "I messed up, I know I did, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right."

The sincerity in his voice clashed with the shattered trust, and you shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. "No, Joel. It's not just about saying sorry or making things right. It's not just about the mistake," you began, your voice measured but carrying the depth of your emotions.

"It's about the trust we had, and that trust has been shattered. This is a betrayal that cuts deep, and I don't think we can come back from it."

His face fell, the weight of realization settling in. "We've been through so much together. Please, don't end us because of one mistake."

The room seemed to close in as you grappled with the heartbreaking decision. "It's not just one mistake, Joel. It's a pattern of choices that shattered the foundation of trust we had. I can't continue a relationship where I constantly question if I'll be cheated on again.”

Joel's eyes glistened with unshed tears, and his voice wavered with a mix of remorse and desperation. "I'll change, I'll do anything to make this right. Just give me a chance."

But the echoes of his pleas couldn't drown out the resolute decision forming in your heart. "I'm sorry, Joel. It's best for both of us to move on. This is too much of a betrayal, and I need to prioritize my own well-being."

As you spoke those words, a heavy silence descended upon the room, punctuating the end of a chapter in your lives. The pain of parting, though agonizing, seemed to carry a semblance of closure. The room, once a space of shared dreams and memories, now bore witness to the painful conclusion of a relationship that had weathered too many storms.

He nodded, a somber acknowledgment of the consequences of his actions. "I know. I never meant to hurt you like this. If I could take it back, I would."

The air in the room hung heavy with the weight of a relationship on the precipice of its demise. Joel's desperate plea for forgiveness echoed in the silence, but the wounds were too fresh, and the trust too shattered to rebuild easily. You took a deep breath, a heaviness settling in your chest.

"Joel," you began, your voice steady but tinged with the pain of realization, "I appreciate your willingness to make amends, but the truth is, I can't see a way forward for us."

His eyes, once a source of comfort and love, now mirrored the anguish of a relationship slipping away. "I messed up, and I understand if you can't forgive me. But please, don't end us like this."

The sincerity in his voice tugged at the frayed edges of your heart, but you knew you couldn’t continue a relationship with him. You met his gaze, a mix of sadness and resolve in your eyes. "Joel, we had something special, something I cherished more than anything. But what we had is broken now. I can't ignore the betrayal, and I can't keep holding onto a past that's been tainted."

He reached for your hand, a desperate attempt to bridge the growing distance between you. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes, anything. I just can't imagine a future without you."

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to be transported back to a time when the future seemed boundless, and his gaze was a promise of forever. There was a time when you looked into his eyes and couldn't imagine a future where he wasn't a central part of it. But now, the love that had once felt unbreakable had shattered, leaving a void you weren't sure could be filled.

"I need to let go, Joel," you said, the weight of those words lingering in the room. "For my own sake, and for yours. We both need a chance to heal and find our own paths forward."

He nodded, a defeated acknowledgment of the reality you both faced. "I never thought we'd come to this," he admitted, his voice heavy with regret.

As the words settled, the room seemed to hold its breath. The love that had once been the anchor of your world now existed as a bittersweet memory. Joel, his gaze lowered, nodded with a heavy understanding.

"I won't forget what we had," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "I'll always love you."

And with that, you uttered the finality that had been hanging between you. "Goodbye, Joel."

The door closed behind him, marking the end of a chapter that had once been a love story. The room, once a sanctuary for shared dreams, now bore witness to the closing of a door that could no longer be left ajar. In the aftermath of goodbye, the echoes of a love that once lingered, a poignant reminder of the fragility of connection and the resilience required to forge a new path forward.

tag list: @pertinentpostmortem @party-hearses @mandoisapunk @bastardmandennis @catchallfangirl @chaotic-mystery @beskarandblasters @amanitacowboy @littlegrungegirlaf @pamasaur @pedrodascal @sweetercalypso @ilovepedro @cool-iguana @pascalpvnk @alwaysmicado @lovers-liability @futuraa-free @morgaussy @pedritoferg @spookykoolkat @wethairjoel @chronically-ghosted @buckyispunk @pattwtf @morning-star-joy @elvinaa @tinycozycomfort @magpiepills @pr0ximamidnight @joelscurls @janaispunk @5oh5 @farmerlarrry @maximoff-forevermore @atinylittlepain @joeldjarin @spookyxsam @honey-dip-24 @hiroikegawa @mcira @mrsmando @hyzer34 @limerence4u @sin-djarin @reddedmiller @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller au #joel miller fic

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tourettesdog · 9 months

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DPxDC fanfic recs part 2! (Part 1)

It's a Small World by halfagone

Sometimes you just need a goofy, fun one shot that throws the characters you like into a theme park and this is exactly that. I love it.

Security Guard? Nah, Blackmailed. by Olive_of_Vanders

Oli has a lot of fantastic oneshots, but I think this one might be one of my favorites. I just really love the premise lol; it's great crack.

A Little Overshadowing Never Hurt Anyone by Playedcrowdd5610

I absolutely adore the premise of this one. Overshadowing shenanigans are so much fun, and the specific way it's happening in this fic has all of my attention.

Knitting Connections by Aibhilin

This is such a soft, neat little oneshot. I love the POV for it and just the quiet scenes it paints.

30 Days of Kidnappings by Hyperintrovert

This one's just plain fun and funny, with some nice emotions and angst mixed in. There are so many kidnappings, as the name implies. Shenanigans abound.

Bat Ghost by Megaerakles

Twin fics have a special place in my heart and this is no exception. I love how focused in Amity Park this one is, and the background Superbat is a treat.

Queen Regent by Elizabehta_Beilschmidt

Gil writes a lot of great Jazz (and Hardcover ship) fics, and this one in particular is one of my faves. I might be biased based on the prompt, but I just love how this one is written and how much of a badass Jazz gets to be.

Wait a Second by Toriieffic

Mistaken identities mixed with sibling bonding-- such a great mix always. I love the setup for this fic and how it plays out, especially with Jazz and Damian's situation in particular.

Robin's Egg by Calix

Wonderfully written, adorable, precious-- with lots of emotions and angst along for the ride. I love fics with core shenanigans a lot.

Oh Northstar of Mine by Milaley

This one is so very sweet and tender. Dead tired ship has a special place in my heart and I love the relationship here with it.

Spelunking by SummersSixEcho

This is the first in a series and I think it might've been the first series I read from Summers (or at least the first DPxDC one). I love Danny's interactions with the batfam in this series, the shenanigans, the puns-- it's all so good.

Coffee Trip of Love by EyesOfCrows

This fic is just plain cute and fun. I love all of the pet names throughout it. I need to reread it pronto lol

Blooming Death, Please Love Me by Gremlin_bot

Hanahaki and blood blossoms? Yes please. I love blood blossom fics-- like a lot-- and mixing them with hanahaki trope... yes.

Another Duckin' Day by TheStarfishAlien

A lot of these on this recommend are dead tired ship, but like-- I love them, your honor. This one is just a ton of fun. Love some good pranks.

Wayne's Haunted Mansion by Tathartiel

This is such a sweet deaged/young Danny fic. I love the progression with Danny and the family with this, with the slow build of them earning his trust and figuring out more about him.

Danny Fenton's Guide to Scoring a Boyfriend by DisillusionedDanny

I just love the shenanigans and ship with this one. Enemies to lovers shenanigans abound. Dis has a Ton of great DPxDC fics, and while I haven't had the spoons to read most of their longer ones just yet, I love their stories and everything I have read.

#dpxdc #dpxdc fanfics #dpxdc fanfic #batpham #dogrecommends #dogposts #long post

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admirxation · 1 month

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Force | Enver Gortash oneshot

Pairing: Lord Enver Gortash x f!durge!reader (afab) Synopsis: Gortash forcefully tries to jog the reader's memory of their history. Word count: 2.5k Disclaimer: This fic will deal with sensitive topics like non-con. I do not condone everything I write; this is a piece of fiction where real people cannot get hurt. You are responsible for the content you consume. cw: reader hates gortash at the start, dark content, non-con, kidnapping (mentioned briefly), tying up, spitting (in a 'get away from me' way), p in v, unprotected sex, choking, tit play, gagging, and creampie (if I missed anything, please tell me).

You were previously surrounded by the dim glow of the campfire, hearing the sounds of your fellow companions as they fell asleep, trying to get some rest for another impactful day. However, you were no longer surrounded by friendly faces; that night, you couldn’t help but stay up and let your inner thoughts swirl alongside the squirming tadpole that kept you restless and exhausted. It was bad enough that you had bloodlust coursing through your very being; now you had awoken knowing you were not the person you thought you were when you woke up on the nautiloid. On your journey to Baldurs Gate, you often thought about the person you were, maybe thinking that you might have been sweet, but that was all a delusion when you finally defeated Ketheric and made your way to Lord Enver Gortash.

When first meeting him, you were, shall we say, intimidated, by the steel watcher that held a deep and rich-toned voice that was welcoming you back; all your fellow companions next to you at the time shared the same confusion — all of it answered when you were face to face with the tyranny’s chosen, and his explanation of the history you two had. The whole puzzle was incomplete; you still had many pieces missing, and maybe you would be given the pieces now.

You were no longer in that humble but comfortable camp; you were now forced on your knees, with a tight and harsh rope looped around your wrists that were placed behind your back, releasing heavy breaths as you tried to grow accustomed to the cold shock of pain that started in your knees from the steel watchers throwing you to Gortash in his private chamber, you felt that jolting pain travel through all your nerves and cause you to wince — even when you were trying not to show weakness.

Gortash had begged to see you again; that crude and short introduction to the new you wasn’t enough when he had been waiting for you to return; he grew to hate Orin even more for taking his favourite assassin from him, and now you were back, but changed, no longer the Bhaalspawn he had been connected to in body and mind; your, shall we say, rebirth and evolving from your chosen company surrounding you and making your new morals wasn’t welcome to Gortash — he hated the new person and wanted to force the memory of the real you back.

You looked up to meet Gortash’s dark eyes, watching him stare at you with that taunting and wicked smirk as he looked you up and down at your vulnerable frame. He waved his hand and ushered the watchers to leave him; you felt exposed, vulnerable, even terrified to be in a room alone with him with no one to come to your aid — you had been taken in the night when you had moved a bit further from the main camp to be left alone with your thoughts, you only realised now how stupid it was to wander off in the place you two main enemies lurked. While you had been trying to resist your violent urges, you only wanted to resist them with your new friends, but you didn’t care to with Gortash. To hells with the alliance, if he was to treat you like this, as he moved closer with slow steps with his eyes never fraying from yours and looking at you with amusement, he never thought to see you under his will; it was often the other way round in your relationship. While tied up and kneeling for him, that metallic taste of anger was lingering on your tongue, your eyes narrowing.

“Is the tying up necessary?” you were quick with your words as your hands kept squirming behind your back, but venom was intertwining with your language and manner.

“Just call me Enver, dearest; there is no need for the formalities. Especially for old friends.”

His voice was deep and rich, his words and tone swirling in your mind. It felt familiar, but you didn’t know if that was a part of your unconsciousness that remembered him and wouldn’t come to the front of your cortex or if the feeling just came from the logic of knowing you had something with him. He bent down to place his fingers on your chin, lifting it, only being met with you forcefully taking it away and scrunching up your face in disgust at him, the feeling he had the goddamn right to touch you. “My… don’t be like that… You used to love that,” he continued to toy with you.

“You have such a way of welcoming sposed old friends… I don’t care about any sort of history; you have no right to touch me… Gortash,” you clenched your fists as you mockingly elongated the way you said his last name, not wanting to conform to his need for a friendly first-name basis.

“I’ll say… It’s quite different seeing you like this. I never thought I would get the chance to set my eyes upon you in this state… It’s quite the opportunity.” A breath of amusement was released as his gaze continued to objectify you, his eyes travelling down your face to your form. He wickedly liked how his dark shadow engulfed the light that once surrounded you; your eyes squinted as Gortash placed his rough hand on your cheek, caressing. You took an opportunity to bite the fingers that tried to venture, but that was exactly what he wanted. “There she is… That’s the spirit, the fiery soul I’ve dearly missed… I know you changed, but I know you weren’t completely gone.”

Hot anger pooled your senses, feeling ike your blood was boiling and about to burst through your skin: “I’m still trying to change… I’m not the vermin you longed for, and you bring me here to what? Rekindle the old flame… You’re pathetic, honestly.”

“Your words wound, my dear,” he let out a small, slow, and deep giggle as he wouldn’t take any of your threats seriously, but you continued to refuse to give in to the history nonsense; you wanted to keep being the person you had grown to be… proud of? Bhaal made you in blood for grotesque destruction, but you no longer wanted that destiny.

“This dynamic is getting exhausting now… I brought you here not to romance and rekindle with you, but to remind you and have you back by my side… I have no idea who this new identity you’re proclaiming you’re following; I know it’s a facade, and our connection will prevail… I would rather that happen sooner than later… Stop speaking to me as an acquaintance.”

“I find it pitiful that you think of yourself as an acquaintance… You’re nothing but an obstacle,” it felt like a dagger into Gortash’s heart to hear those words from a past lover he had never had the thought to get over, even when hearing you had died from Orin making a fool of you, he hadn’t lost hope, knowing you would come back in some way — he just didn’t predict that he would have to make you come back to him.

“I don’t blame you, dear, for thinking like this; it isn’t your fault… But I will bring that pretty mind of yours to sense, one way or another,” he descended again, crouching to have his eyes meet your level.

Indignation roared through you, every inch of your skin feeling hot and irritated. You had the itch to be let go, but you were trapped in your arms, to hells with your alliance; you had gotten this far and knew you could take him; he even knew it by having you kidnapped into his private chamber in the sleeping city. You stared at him — only for a moment — before spitting at the face he claimed you had been connected before; he pulled away, rushing to an upright position as he wiped it away — he had wanted to do this in a way that would make you come back to him through your choice, but you made his patience run thin.

“You unruly thing,” in a moment of haste, his fingers collected around your neck; you gasped as his fingers squeezed the sides only to allow a release of air; you looked into his eyes, his dark lashes and dark shadows surrounding them — you knew these eyes. Your body felt hot as you stared back at his, a part of you that was connected to him coming back and living in familiarity, but you were still fearful of what he was going to do.

“Are… Are you going to kill me?” you asked, only to be met with another smirk that bestowed control over you.

“No, of course not, dear,” he let go of your neck. You gasped for needed air, dazed dots clouding your vision as you grew accustomed to the much-needed oxygen in your system, but your moment of freedom was short-lived when he dragged you by your top, hearing the hem ripping as he dragged you to his bed; you feared what was going to happen but was also… excited? You felt a cacophony of emotions intermingling inside you, and you couldn’t process any of it as the sight of the bed got closer and closer. “I was going to let you see reason in the more civilised way… But you have left me no choice but to jog your memory by force,” there was tension in his words, as his gaze upon you wasn’t just one of lust like he had before when you were first thrown to his feet, but now there was a darker yearning to make you see his views, to make you see how he saw you, you squeezed your legs together and tried to use your strength to avoid what you knew was coming, you weren’t naive or stupid, you knew what that look meant.

“You could have gone the easy route, but you had to be difficult,” his hand ventured between your legs, separating them no matter how much effort you tried to put them together; it was difficult to do anything with your hands bound up, limiting your bodily movement and having your balance thrown off.

Gortash stopped your squirming as he placed his hands on the sides of your waist and pinned you down, a pulsating pain travelling to your arms as you tensed them with now being placed on your back, feeling the covers along your skin and smelling his scent that had seeped into them. Your eyes were darting everywhere as Gortash used the sharp claws of his golden hand accessory to make a neatly placed rip that went through each layer of clothing, exposing the core that made him harder.

“Oh, have I missed the sight of you,” he said under his breath.

“Stop! I will make you regret this; I will! I’ll have you bathe in your blood; don’t you dare touch me!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gortash reached for something unknown to you. When it was in your peripheral vision, you saw ripped-up rags. You watched as he balled the fabric in such an intricate but quick manner, pressing his fingers on your jaw and forcing them open as he stuffed your mouth; you couldn’t spit them out, couldn’t reach your fingers to get them out, you were bound. You were slowly coming to the reality that you would have to endure whatever he was going to do to you — your muffled screams only added excitement to Gortash as he took his cock out of his pants, dragging his underwear to the side, nestling his body in between your legs, feeling your core’s warmth.

The tip of his cock was sliding along your slit, pushing through in tiny movements and feeling you get wetter and hotter; Gortash smirked to himself: “Seems your body remembers me… Only your mind is left to come to the truth.” You felt betrayed; you didn’t want this. You were even scared and wanted to break free and have your bloodlust revenge on what he had done to you. Still, the moment he let himself inside, that deep thrust inside your walls, your body begged for him to continue as your eyes rolled back to your head, a muffled moan come through the rags as you felt his length inside of you; it felt familiar, but in a way also a new euphoric feeling that you couldn’t help but like. He felt your walls stretch against him; he released a gasp as he felt how incredible you were again, your walls eagerly clenching around his cock as he pressed his fingers on your waist with enough pressure to leave a light bruise. Groans escaped his mouth; they were low with a mix of laboured breaths as he continued to feel your body surround him. Tears were brimming at the corners of your eyes as you felt him push the pressure on your skin and the way he forcefully let you feel that pleasure and the ecstasy of it.

“Fuck,” he released in a whispered hush as he continued to pump himself inside you, “I’ve missed the feeling of you… mmmm,” his moans continued in between his speech.

Your back arched in response to the tip of his cock bruising your cervix as he pushed and pushed his whole length in your wet and throbbing core; Gortash continued this quick motion but still savoured every moment of it, something that he had been yearning and dreaming immensely about from the time you had been taken from him. Your moans continued as you squeezed your eyes shut, hating how much you liked it, hating how good he was at knowing your body and how to make it yield to the sensation.

He repositioned himself to move his face to be no longer level with yours, now staring at your breasts that had been bouncing in front of him with every hard thrust he brought to you; on his way down, he left rough and lazy kisses along your neck and chest, taking your hard nipple in between his teeth and gently nibbling it, later twirling the bud with his wet tongue that made a shiver roll down your body.

“Mmhmm,” you moaned; you no longer cared about the large section of your mind telling you to stop submitting to his will; you only listened to the irrational corner of your mind that loved the feeling of him, loved how he used your body, and you wanted more. Your groans continued to erupt and be shielded with the cloth that was nestled in your mouth, your chest rising up and down even quicker as you get hotter and wetter underneath him.

After more forceful thrusts and bites, Gortash released a final loud and deep moan as he finished inside of you; you felt his hot, euphoric release inside of you and couldn’t help but want more, left in a daze on his bed.

authors note: please engage if you liked this; reblogging is the best way of supporting creators and I would be very appreciative if you liked and reblogged. This is my first bg3 fic, and I hope people like it, I am thinking of writing a durge reader x gortash pre game events. love you all, mwah mwah mwah.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 smut #bg3 gortash #bg3 gortash smut #lord enver gortash #gortash x you #enver gortash x reader #gortash x durge reader #durgetash #smut #fanfiction

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mediocrevideopodcast · 1 month

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Hello :3 Could you do either headcannons or oneshot for sleeping with Mordecai Heller?? No smut, just like literally sharing a bed lol. Love your writing!!

Thank you so much!! I ended up combining this with a few other requests on some cuddling headcanons, so do let me know if you'd like any follow-ups to this! I like to imagine he's got a whole unbreakable routine.

Pairing: Mordecai Heller/Reader

How do you cuddle with Mordecai Heller? Simple. You don’t.

Well, that isn’t entirely true. But it’s what you tell everyone — he has a reputation to uphold, after all. And it’s much easier than defining what “cuddling” means for the two of you.

Like with many aspects of your relationship with Mordecai, cuddling came little by little. He’s not keen on touch, even in the best of scenarios. Most days, being touched just feels like a million concentrated pinpricks. It’s almost painful sometimes, the way unwanted hands sear into his skin and imprint themselves on his nerves. Not to mention all the germs people have. Eugh.

You knew he was touch averse long before you ever started dating — you’ve seen the way he leans away from others when they go in for hugs, or the way he grimaces during pat-downs on jobs. It’s such an intrinsic part of him that you never expected it to change, and you’re okay with that.

But sometimes, he surprises you.

There’s little gestures that he does (after a considerable amount of self-talk, not that he’d ever tell you that) that truly make your heart melt.

Working up to sleeping in the same bed was an adventure all on its own. It’s quite the milestone of trust for him, with a weight that’s just a stone’s throw away from an outright proposal. This man has spent most of his life in the center of danger’s crosshairs, so to trust you enough to let down his walls… well, you get the idea.

He always falls asleep after you do. He sleeps on his side, facing the door, with a foot of space between you — no more, no less. He counts your breaths as you drift into sleep, and memorizes the way your body heat seeps through into his own. He commits your very presence to memory, and it quickly becomes difficult— no, impossible — to sleep when you’re not by his side. He likes to say it’s because his routine is broken, but you both know that’s a lie.

His fur is soft — that’s the first thing you think to yourself when Mordecai brushes his tail against your own one night. You hold your breath, waiting for him to pull back, like it was some sort of mistake… but he doesn’t. There’s no hiss, no flinch or startle… just peace. Calm. Your lips pull back in a soft smile as you bask in the moment, enjoying every second that you’re connected. You dare not say anything, afraid that if you did he’d overthink the moment, or shrink back from the intensity of his emotions. But he never pulls away, not until the sun is shining through your curtains and begging the two of you to rise.

From then on, that too becomes part of your shared routine.

And little by little, it grows.

It starts as a brush… and then intertwining. Then he does it while you read together in bed… and then on the couch.

When it’s you, touch can be… pleasant. It’s an unusual feeling, foreign, but not a bad one.

Little incidences like that slowly become more and more frequent. More openly devout in their meaning, their intensity. He never thought he’d feel this safe with anyone ever again, and it’s almost scary how deep his love runs for you.

Some days are better than others, of course. It’s never your fault, never. Sometimes he truly just cannot handle the sensation of it all. You like to joke with him a little when he puts his hands up as a ward.

Can’t have you getting too soft on me, you jest, I know, I’m addictive.

And of course he sputters, because he is not getting soft (yet another lie) but at the end of the day, he knows you won’t push him. He trusts you.

But you can always count on that last step of your routine. Every night at 10:30pm his tail wraps around yours, like clockwork. Stress melts into weightless peace in an instant, with the world as little more than a memory outside of the walls of your shared apartment. Some lovers parade their joy around in the streets under the light of day, thriving in the attention that their unity provides. But you and Mordecai belong to the night, wrapped up in quiet, intimate eternity. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

#i initially had it written out IN this. but it got cut since this turned more into Mordecai's touch aversion + how it changes with you :)#lackadaisy x reader #mordecai heller x reader #lackadaisy mordecai x reader #lackadaisy imagines #lackadaisy imagine

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marauderqueensblog · 3 months

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Life’s brighter with you around/luke castellan

authors note: In honor of my 1 year anniversary of being on tumblr yay so I thought what better than write a Luke oneshot. And also the reader is the daughter of selene the goddes of the moon cause I haven’t seen a kid of them yet on tumble

Summary:Luke’s always had nightmares ever since he can remember but that all changed when he met you

Pairing: luke castellan x Selene daughter!reader

Warning: slight angst, mentions of death, and torturing

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Ever since Luke can remember he always had terrible nightmares. Either about his mothers death,his father leaving, Thalia being tortured. He’ll wake up in a cold sweat tears running down his face looking around rapidly. It was absolutely horrible like being trapped in an old disgusting memory but he just had to watch it happen again. No moving no screaming just watching. He made a swear to himself that if anyone he loved where to get hurt he’d sacrifice himself.

Especially when he met you. You arrived at camp when you where where 13 he had barely been there a few months when he met you. You walked threw the gates looking the best way Luke can describe like you’d been hit by a bus. A bruised eye cut lip and large cut on your side bleeding threw your shirt looking like yo I where gonna pass out. It made Luke remember everything he has to go threw to get to camp.

He remembers you coming in and almost falling from the blood loss. He immediately runs up to you getting you by the shoulders. “Hey are you ok”he asked “um not really kinda bleeding out just a little bit” oh here let me get you to the infirmary” he walked you to the infirmary in the middle of camp finally settling you down in a bed. “Chiron Chiron can somebody tell Chiron we have a new camper who needs immediate medical attention” that’s all you nheard till it faded to black. But you where patched up and woke up. Looking around frantically you spotted Luke “you your the guys who helped me” he chuckles “ yea no problem you can call me Luke castellan” he states holding out his hand “ well castellan you can call me y/n l/n” after that you and Luke had become inseparable.

Luke had spent all day trying to find your godly parent and there was no luck. Till that night you where talking to Luke about how you’ve always felt some strange connection to the moon and it’s beauty. All of a sudden a crescent moon appeared above you. He looked up shocked “you your the child of Selene the moon goddess”. You laughed “guess that explains my weird moon obsession. You where the only child at camp daughter of the moon goddess there was obviously no cabin for you. Which meant your home would be in the Hermes cabin. But that was a plus meant you could be closer to Luke.One night you where trying to sleep when you where woken up to heavy breathing.

You looked around till you pinpointed the sound. Luke’s bunk You thought. You quickly make your wait over there. He sees you and calms his breathing a bit. “Oh I’m sorry did I wake you”. “No no don’t worry are you ok bad dream”. “Oh um yea” “want me to maybe stay with you I don’t have to but if it’ll make you feel better”. “That would actually make me feel a lot better” you smile and slowly crawl into bed with him. You wake up to one of Lukes half siblings Hannah looking over you too smirking. “Hey you can’t tell anyone Hannah please” you pleaded. “Fine I’ll keep your little secret” she says she walking away. After that it became a usual thing he’d get nightmares come to your bed you’d crawl into his. And Hannah would wake you before everyone else woke. But eventually Luke got tired of hiding this.

you where so devoted to helping him he felt himself truly slipping into you more and more every day. It’s like he didn’t know what to do. “Chris it’s driving me mad I just love her so much” Chris rolls his eyes sick of hearing this every day. “ then why don’t you ask her out already she clearly likes you”. “You think she really does” he says hopeful look on his face” “man look she wakes up whenever you want doesn’t get mad you interrupt her sleep gets into literal bed with you just to make you feel better after your bad dreams I don’t know but that sounds like love to me”

“oh my Gods Chris thank you for opening my eyes I gotta” he says running away. “Hah and now I’m getting some money” Chris exclaims remembering his bet with Clarissa over who would convince the other to date each-other first.

When Luke finally finds you he’s breathing heavily. “Are you ok” “ yes Amazing actually ok here goes nothing y/n l/n I love you with all my heart I love how caring you are and how you never hesitate to help out anyone” I love hearing you talk about things you love like the stars and the moon and hearing the stories while you point at constellations”. “You’ve made my life amazing and saved me will you be my girlfriend” “oh my goodness you finally ask of course I’ll be your girlfriend idiot” you exclaim grabbing his face and kissing him”. Then you here a angry

groan in the back you both look to see clarisse stomping her feet like a child. “what clarisse sad I got her first” Luke says. “No castellan Im angry I lost my bet with Chris” she says storming off. You look at Luke and say “ten bucks there gonna date next” “ten bucks I’ll get Chris to date her next”. “ oh your so on pretty boy you say”. And then started the ongoing bets at camp half-blood. Watching the sky that night with Luke you could have sworn the moon shined just a little brighter with him around

author note: this kinda went off the rails but it’s was so fun to make and now I write for clarisse cause I found my love for her also sorry the text style changed halfway threw I switched devices

#luke castellan #fanfic #fluff #cute #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson

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asirensrage · 6 months

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Not His Fault - Gojo Satoru Oneshot

Title: Not His Fault

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Unnamed/Undescribed Female OC

Word Count: ~2100

Warnings: Sex. Possessive!Obsessed!Gojo. Edging. Overstimulation. Unprotected sex. Mention of OC taking drugs for seeing curses.

Summary: The only thing he can do is convince her that she needs him. So he does.

Notes: Unbeta-d. Written within two days and barely edited if I'm honest. This started with me talking about obsessed!Gojo to @renhoeku and I started writing out the idea I was playing with. Then I started writing smut because of that post about having ppl read it and keeping a straight face around family during Thanksgiving. In the end, I tried to connect them. I hope it worked. Please tell me if you enjoy it. Thanks!

It’s not his fault.

Satoru will freely admit when he’s done something he wasn’t supposed to, when he steps out of line. Why wouldn’t he? He has nothing to fear. There’s nothing anyone could do to him. But this? This isn’t his fault. It’s hers.

She doesn’t react like the rest. She never has since the day he stumbled upon her. Even when she finally learned the truth of the things that she saw, that she was able to destroy them with a flick of her fingers and the right determined thought, she still never changed. They told her he was the strongest and yet she looked at him like he was just another person she saw on the street. She answered with a shrug, referenced an anime when she saw him floating and continued on as if it was no different than usual. He doesn’t know if it’s the drugs she used to take when her family thought she was crazy but nothing seems to phase her.

It’s refreshing.

It’s addicting and he can’t help but want to surround her, to see if he can get her to react in a different way.

So it’s not his fault. If she reacted like everyone else, he wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t be trying to manipulate her into staying with him, at least close to him, so that he could protect her.

Because he needs to protect her. He needs to keep her from falling headfirst into the fate that awaits every sorcerer but him. He needs her…to want him.

---

It didn’t start like that.

He was intrigued when he came across her. He didn’t recognize her and she did her best to ignore him, to avoid talking to him or even looking at him. At first, he suspected she knew who he was and was warned by a clan, but it wasn’t that. She had slipped through the cracks, unaware that the curses she could see and destroy actually existed in reality. She had been convinced that she was hallucinating them all…until he persuaded her that they were real. That he was real.

He expected things to change, but they didn’t. She reacted to him the same way she always did and he just…he wanted to keep that. So he didn’t tell anyone. She was safer that way, he thought. Safer on her own, with no one the wiser that she existed.

Until she wasn’t.

---

Nearly dying does wonders to draw her closer. He saved her and she was easily swayed to follow with the understanding that it was safer under his protection. Well, the school’s security. Until that proved to not be enough in his eyes.

It was simple to bring her into the fold, but as she charmed his students the same way she enthralled him, something became clear to him. He didn’t want to share her and he refused to lose her the way he lost…others. The only thing he could do was convince her that she needs him.

So he does.

---

He digs his fingers into the flesh of her hips, appreciating the way he can see how he’s imprinting himself onto her. He wants everyone to know, to see her and know that she’s his. That she’ll always be his…and he wants to know that his mark is there, even when no one else but him can see it.

Satoru pulls her towards him, lifting her slightly so that she slides faster. He’s been teased long enough, has waited long enough that he buries his face between her legs, eager to taste her. He groans at the sweetness, that slight tang that somehow makes it more irresistible. He feels the way she digs her hand into his hair, how her hips rise to meet his mouth. He’ll devour her like this. He could die between her legs and it will have been worth it. He’s tasted heaven and it only tastes of her.

She tries to pull away as he does his best to break her, to make her cum across his tongue. Her legs squeeze against his ear before she tries to move from the pleasure he knows he’s bringing her. She says it’s too much. It’s not enough.

He hooks his hands around her legs, keeping her still and open. He wants everything from her, even if he has to take it before she realizes she’s willing to offer it to him. Only to him.

He grinds his hips against the mattress, already so fucking hard just from her taste. His spine tingles as he groans against her. He's trying to hold on, but the taste of her on his tongue and the lewd sounds she's making as he attempts to feast on her are pushing his limits. She probably doesn't even realize how much she's affecting him. She never does. It just makes him want her more.

Her orgasm hits her hard and she shudders against him, keening when he doesn’t stop. How can he? She’s given him this much, she can give another. He wants her begging. He wants to ruin her, to burn the knowledge into her that he’s the only one who can take care of her like this. He’s the only one worthy to.

When he finally pulls away, moving to rest between her thighs as he licks his lips and wipes his mouth, he looks at her. Being above her gives him the best view, especially of the tears in her eyes that have built up from the overstimulation.

He grins at her before leaning down and swiping at one that falls with his tongue. She reaches up, pressing a hand against his chest. He pulls back enough to meet her eyes again.

She’s trembling, still trying to catch her breath from his attempts to steal it. She looks almost hesitant to meet his eyes but he kisses her softly. Again and again. Until he pulls back and brushes away another one of her tears with his thumb.

“Shhh,” he murmurs. “I got you, sweet thing.” He kisses her again, relishing the way she kisses back. “Told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” He doesn’t wait for her response. “Let me feel you.”

“Please, ‘toru.”

He groans at the sound of his name on her lips. “Anything,” he murmurs back. He means it too. He’ll give her whatever she asks for if it means she’ll stay by his side. It doesn’t take much to slip into her. She’s wet and warm, moaning and digging her nails into his skin as if she’s trying to mark him the way that he’s marked her. He’d let her leave scars if she could.

Satoru buries his face in her neck, breathing her in as he tries to maintain control. Despite how long he spent getting her ready, she’s still so fucking tight.

She brings one of her legs around his waist, as though she’s trying to get him closer. He swears to himself before he finds a position. She's so good to him. Even when she was so unsure in the beginning. He'll be just as good back. He swears it.

He holds himself above her, eyes on her face so he can see every expression she makes. He tries to burn the memory of the way her eyes close and her mouth falls open into his mind. He wants to be able to remember every sound she makes as he thrusts into her.

He leaves open-mouthed kisses on any bit of her skin that he can reach and hooks one of her legs over his arm, pressing it higher so he can get in deeper.

“Come on,” he tells her. “Tell me what you want.”

“Please–” She begs him for more.

He kisses her hard, pleased at the way she pleads. He tells her how good she is for him. “Made just for me, aren’t you?”

She cries out in response as he shifts the angle slightly. He wants to make her scream. He murmurs promises until they fade because all he can focus on is how good she feels around him and how much more he wants.

But then she says, voice broken as she clings to him, “‘toru, don’t...don't stop.”

Well, how could he resist?

“Tell me you’re mine.” He demands but it almost sounds like he’s begging her this time. He just wants to hear it. He wants to brand himself into her the same way he feels she’s burned into him. “Tell me.” He quickens his pace, fingers digging bruises into her skin as he holds her in position, bringing her back to him over and over.

It doesn’t take long for her to reach her peak and he nearly gives in when he feels the way she clenches around him as she cums. “Fuck...” he groans, trying to breathe so he doesn’t break like this. It’s too soon. He wants this to last, wants to show how much he can make this worth her while.

She’s coming down from her high and he’s trying to hold on to his when he hears her. “Promise?”

He pauses, catching his breath before looking down at her. “Promise what?” He grins as he asks, trying not to show how desperate he feels to know what she wants.

She looks away and he can’t help but think how fucking cute she looks like this. Sweaty and dishevelled, her eyes glossy with pleasure. He might have to kill anyone who’s ever seen her like this. He knows no one else will. Not anymore. He kisses her softly, before placing quick kisses against her cheek. “Come on, princess,” he teases. His breath nearly stops in his chest at the way she looks up at him.

“Promise you’ll take care of me?”

He kisses her hard. “I swear. Any way you want.”

“You better pull out.”

He laughs at that because she looks as unimpressed as usual when she says it. He won’t tell her that he wasn’t planning to, that he wants to keep her close however he can. He needs her stronger first before that, even if he knows he could protect them both. “I will.”

He kisses her, enjoying the way she returns it before he starts to move again. It’s easy to fall into a rhythm that has her clutching his shoulders, wrapping an arm around the back of his neck. The room fills with the sounds of their movement, with his grunts as he builds up the tension again, her moans as he moves her leg closer to her chest so he can get deeper.

He feels the way she shudders against him, crying out as he tries to bring her to another orgasm. Tears are building up in her eyes again.

“I can’t!”

“One more, baby. One more.”

She pushes at his chest with one of her hands. A feeble attempt to get him to slow down, but he knows she can take it. He grabs her hand and pins it above her head, pressing closer. Sparks shoot down his spine and he takes the moment to grind his hips into hers. He couldn’t be closer if he tried but it almost feels like it’s not enough.

She rakes her nails down his back, mouth falling open as she keens at the feeling. He breaks.

He’s almost not fast enough to pull out, but he swore he would. With a rush of heat, he cums across her stomach and while she looks beautiful marked like that, there’s a part of him that knows it would have felt better inside. It’s fine. It’s not like this is going to be the only time. They’ve already promised each other, whether or not she realizes it.

Her eyes are clenched tight and despite the fact he’s spent, he knows she’s still clutching at nothing and so fucking close. He kisses her, lowering her leg carefully before using the hand of the arm that was holding her leg to press against her clit. He wants to see her expression when she cums. Wants to hear her again.

She looks surprised when she feels his fingers but it quickly fades as he builds her back up. She clutches at his hand and he moves to take one of her breasts into his mouth. She’s beautiful and soft and fucking perfect. Especially when she arches up into him as she reaches her peak.

He takes his hand away, licks it clean of her, and moves until he’s lying next to her. He could stare at her all day but he pulls her into his chest. She’s still coming down from her release and they’re both covered in sweat and cum, but he wants her close. He wants to feel her pressed against him, where she belongs.

She curls up into him, head resting on his chest. He can feel her breath against his skin. If he wasn’t so hot, he’d shiver at the sensation. He feels scrubbed raw, bare in the best way with her.

Her breathing evens out as she falls asleep on him. He grins to himself. He wore her down, just like he promised he would. He brushes his fingers against her cheek. He hasn’t allowed himself to get this close with anyone since…but now? Now that he’s let her in, that he’s claimed her, he can’t regret it. He won’t let her either. The two of them belong to each other. If he has to remind her of that when she wakes up, he will. She’ll learn.

---

taglist: @raith-way @zeleniafic @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse @themaradwrites @kingsmakers @far-shores @endless-oc-creations @stanshollaand @wordspin-shares

also tagging a couple who may be interested: @nejires-hado @saidbysae @sxrvivc and @emerald-valkyrie

#gojo satoru x oc #gojo x oc #jjk fic #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #my writing #dark!gojo #yandere!gojo

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 1 year

Text

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐧 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝.

The oneshot I promised based off of one of my previous post! Sorry if this is not up to your liking—I have bad writing lol. This oneshot is also, btw, in the Imposter's POV! I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Bad Grammar, Spelling Mistakes, Not Beta Read, OOC Characters, Implications of Violence, & Mind Control/Mind Manipulation.

Read if you're okay with these terms. Please also let me know if I missed a warning!

— — —

3 weeks. It's been 3 stupid weeks since that darn creator landed into Teyvat. Gah, why?! Why now, when I have everything and anything that I wanted right under my feet? When I had this whole world fooled and all under my control, my grasp?! This was surely going to start a riot if people realize that stupid creator is the real thing.

I smile. No. No, they won't find out. I can make sure of that. I have mind controlled guards stationed everywhere in all seven nations! I have eyes everywhere! This creator will be nothing once I have them in my grasp. I'll torture them for ever thinking they had the right to demolish my work! I suffered too much for this—I am not letting my dirty work go to waste!

I slam my fist on my throne again, catching the Geo Archon's attention. Bah, stupid old dragon. Too keen for his own good. Good thing he's on my side right now.

"Your Grace," his deep voice rings through the room, "is something troubling you?"

"Why of course there's something troubling me, you fool!" I spat back. Normally, I wouldn't raise my voice at one of of most loyal followers, but right now, I'm not having it. "I have this—this dumb imposter renegading around, trying to tarnish my upbringing of reclaiming my own throne!" Zhongli's eyes darken.

"Do not fret, Your Grace. The Imposter will be hunted down soon enough." I scoff, not at all convinced.

Yeah right. That damned creator has survived for 3 weeks. No way in hell would my stupid puppets be able to kill one person in the span of this month. They were all just that stupid. It was frustrating at times, this time beyond boiling point!

"Get out there and help them!" I order Zhongli. "Make sure your nation is actually doing its job and not just lounging around, selling their goods like any other day, counting their stupid mora!"

"Of course, Your Grace." He walks out, leaving me in my throne room of my palace with my own thoughts. Tch, frail, old fool. For someone who's won a seat of Celestia from the Archon War, he acts like a pitiful yet loyal servant.

No wonder Celestia took a liking to him. I sigh, waiting yet again for my puppets to actually find that creator. It was midday, and they still haven't found them.

That was...until I felt something strange. It was faint, but I definitely sensed it. I close my eyes immediately, running through all of the puppets I've selected for this hunt.

Ah. Perfect.

Two of my most prized puppets have found them. Venti and Nahida, cornering a meek, little creator. For someone of such power, they act like a cowardly child. Ha. This will be fun.

Good job, Venti, Nahida~ I tell them in their heads. Bring them to me...I want to personally kill them myself. I grin. I can finally live out my long lasted fantasy! I can finally have that creator grovel in front of me, begging for mercy as I cut them to pieces! Perhaps I might even award these two for their accomplishment—

No... My eyes flew open for a second, shocked. What did that stupid, childish archon just say? And here, I thought of being generous to them! This is wrong! This is all wrong! I...I can feel a warm presence... I hiss at that thought. This stupid God of Wisdom dares to go against me, just because she can feel some sort of warm connection to a pathetic person who can't even fight for themself? Please!

No, no, Nahida. They are tricking you so that they can escape! I boldly tell the Dendro Archon, before slipping into Venti's mind again. Bring this imposter to me, now!

They feel so familiar...Like I've interacted with them before. Came the Anemo Archon. What?! Ugh, can this stupid God of Freedom do anything right for once?! Free...calm and warm...

Gosh, these two idiots. Making me do more work than I need just to kill one person in my way! You would think having puppets would be amazing, especially with two powerful archons at your disposal, but no! Of course not!

No. They are lying to you.

Like a comfy blanket in the coldest of winters...

Stop. They are not the creator.

Like the finest breeze in the wind, a melody as pure as the sun.

They are playing tricks. Get them.

Like a sudden lift of the cage, a strong breeze to lift the bird away...

I...I know them. I do, I swear I do.

No, you do not. They are lying to your sub-consciousness. Take revenge and kill them!

No...No, I can't. They're...They're the creator! the archons say, in sync, at the same time. I gasped, shocked. They dare betray me, after everything I did for them and their precious nations?!

THEY ARE NOT THE CREATOR. BRING THEM TO ME NOW! I shout in their heads. Their bodies moved, albeit sluggishly. Their weapons were raised, even though their consciousness was fighting against my every command, I will make sure I have my revenge for all this ruckus.

Just another step closer...Yes, raise that bow of yours...Make sure that vermin doesn't escape...Yes, good...

The moron tries to break for a run, but dendro quickly stops them. Yes, good...another step closer...good...

"P-please. I don't mean trouble! Please!" The person begins to cower. Hah, pathetic. I wonder how they'll be like when they see me face to face. It will be fun...the utmost fun I'll ever have, in fact...

No!

Stop!

A surge of both anemo and dendro combined nearly knocks my control over them, but I still held on. I gasp from the sudden burst of elemental power, before banging my fist onto my throne. These half-wits dare to go against me?!

"Y...Your Grace...Run, please..." I hear that voice of a bard say. Oh, how I want to rip out his throat...

"N-no! I can't leave you—leave you both like this!" No. No. No. I refuse to be painted the villain! My hardwork, my dirtied hands weren't for nothing! I REFUSE THIS!

YOU DARE TO DISOBEY ME?!

"Please...Your Grace, RUN!" And that was the last straw.

I forced myself into both of their bodies, flinging the archon's consciousness into the darkness again. But it was too late. That wretched vermin escaped. I shout in frustration, before signaling my other, more reliable puppets, to follow that dirty pig.

AT THE CHASM OUTSKIRTS. FIND THAT IMPOSTER, NOW!

I could feel a rush of feet running towards it. Good, at least these puppets were functioning properly.

Now...these two...traitors. Glaring down at these idiots wouldn't do anything, so I begin to shout at them.

You dare to defy me, after everything I've done for you?!

Did you forget I was the one who blessed your nations with security, with safety?!

You dare GO AGAINST ME FOR THE IMPOSTER?!

HOW STUPID CAN YOU BOTH GET?!

JUST HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO LISTEN?!

I could feel their cowering as I forced their bodies under my full control.

"Return to the palace, you wretched traitors," I said, speaking through their voices. I feel them trembling, but I don't care. I will make them fear me, if they refuse to adore me. I will change their minds, make them mindless puppets if I had to.

I will make sure to be their everything, to the point they're so loyal, no one will be able to recognize them. I will be all they have praise about. I will be all they care about. They would be so gone, they would even destroy their own precious nations if I commanded them to.

"I will teach you why no one defies me. EVER."

The entering steps of my two traitorous puppets echoes through the halls of my palace. I open my eyes, and glare down at the two once-loyal followers with pure loathing and disdain.

"You have both disappointed me, and to this, I will make sure your punishment is seen to the very end." I feel them quiver under my gaze, and I smiled. How lovely...Their fear is too tempting.

Oh, but I never said their punishment was short, did I?

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒏𝒅.

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please tell me how I did- the criticism would be greatly appreciated! Please let me know if I need to change the warnings as well, just in case I didn't do it right!

Check the Ghost Rebel's Blog Description to See if Their Mailbox is Open!

#yandere sagau #sagau genshin #sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau impostor au #imposter sagau #platonic genshin impact #imposter au #self aware genshin #sagau cult au #genshin cult au #sagau angst #sagau nahida #sagau zhongli #sagau x reader #sagau venti

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underdark-dreams · 2 months

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Can you please talk about your writing! how you write and revise and where you get your inspiration you are just so amazing! I could use some tips to get my writing to the next level. maybe some fic recs you find inspiring as well? only if you want too.

I sat on this ask for a while to mull it over, so thanks for your patience! I can definitely talk about my general process and link some fics that have inspired me.

I've also answered some other asks about writing process and technique. You can read those here if you like:

Emotional and feelings-focused writing

Writing descriptively

Fic writing: general process

First, it's good to have your opening and your ending in mind before you start. Even if it's just:

OC walks into Sorcerous Sundries

Rolan and OC fall asleep together

If you have the bookends, it's a lot easier to find the story's beats in the middle. (Or decide that you can't find the path from A to B after all & need to change one of them around)

Once I have those two down, I usually write out the main beats of the story next. These will be the parts that excite you most as a writer!! Like, they make you giddy to write about! Getting these down on paper has ALWAYS given me a burst of momentum to get through the drier/connecting bits.

So I encourage you to write out the story events/scenes that make you most excited first. Exposition will come later! Don't worry about 'setting things up' right now, unless you really want to start there. Remember that your first draft only has to make sense to you.

Inspiration

Damn if I could bottle the answer to this one, I'd be set for life! lmao

A lot of people start writing first and find the inspiration along the way. It's a valid and effective method!

I usually wait for ideas to come to me first, and they usually come when I'm totally disconnected from my writing computer. I swear, my strongest ideas for a fic setup or interesting scene always come when I'm at work or vacuuming or some crap

Best advice I can give is to keep a notes app on your phone or something similar. Rotate your characters around in your mind while you're doing other random life things, and good ideas will usually come to you. Jot down the framework or some dialogue or whatever strikes you before you forget it, then revisit it when you have more time.

Revising and editing

I'm one of those writers who edits a ton as they go, instead of drafting out a story and revising in one go. So this part is kind of difficult for me to answer...the two processes are unfortunately so interconnected in my head!

The main thing is to make sure you give yourself a few days between writing and doing your final edit. Even if you've been revising along the way, taking some time away from your fic lets you gain a fresh perspective.

I will admit, I also keep thesaurus.com open in a tab at all times. Like. I am addicted to finding just the right word

As with all of the above, your mileage may vary! The right technique is the one that gets you writing and creating. 💯

Fic Recs

Here's a list from back in December! Still in love with all of these!

Also:

Deeply and Immovably So by Cometra / @dutifullylazybread - Absolutely required reading for any Rolan x Tav fans! Tav is AFAB/she/her. Darcy's worldbuilding and imagery is incredible, very deep and meaningful. Just all-around excellence!

verso by aes3plex - Zevlor x m!Tav oneshot. This story like...made me understand who Zevlor was as a character. I don't know how else to describe it. Really wonderful backstory threaded through a present-day encounter with some of the best prose ever. Love!

But I will admit, I grew up reading Trek fics, and those stories and writers have stayed with me longer than anything else. I think old fandom + huge universe + writers with sheer decades of experience in fanon have a lot to do with the quality of writing there. Not relevant to BG3 but has definitely shaped how I write today!

#rebgrrl writes #underdark-dreams asks #writing process

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valley-of-headcanons · 1 year

Text

the chill zone || sam x scared!farmer oneshot

only an idiot would fish in thunderstorms when you're afraid of them. apparently you're an idiot. sam has to take you into the chill zone.

warnings: fluffy, friends-to-lovers arc, thunderstorms

requested by: me >:)

Sam jumped out of his bed when he heard a knock at the door. His mom was out of town on a girl's day, and his father had taken Vincent to the city for the day. Sam opted out, wanting to stay home and write for his band, but he ended up just laying in bed all day. Until a very frantic knock rang out across the house.

Opening the door, he saw you, freezing and shaking. Was it from the cold or fear? It didn't matter, he needed to get you inside before you froze to death or fainted.

“I think you might be a little wet,” he laughed, leaning against the doorway, trying to be a little bit snarky before seeing your expression. He's never seen that look on your face. “Hey, come in. Don't want you dyin' out there or anything.”

“Th-Thanks ... I'm not really good with thunder and stuff ... I thought it was just gonna be raining today, but I was proven wrong apparently.” you laughed nervously, stepping onto the mat.

You two stared at each other before Sam remembered that he should probably be helping you. “Towel! Towel, yeah, let me go get that- you don't have a change of clothes on you, do you? Wait- why would you, that's stupid, that would be wet too- do you want one of my shirts?”

All you could do was nod as you leaned against the doorway, flinching at a small crack of thunder.

He ran throughout the house like a mad man on a mission, grabbing two towels, one of his shirts, and some basketball shorts you could tie up to your liking. He handed them to you, before noticing how your hands were shaking. “Will you be good to get to the bathroom?” he said, his voice beginning to soften a little as he realized how bad of a state you were in.

You shook your head. “I'll be okay, I-I promise,” you smiled weakly as you slowly made your way over to the bathroom. He quickly rushed to his bedroom to clean up a little bit while you were changing, not wanting to look like a total slob. His mom would be very impressed.

As you stood in the doorway, Sam looked back at you with a soft smile. “You made it out alive, I see.”

“Yeah ... when do you think the thunder will clear up?” you said, a frown beginning to form against your lips.

“Overnight, I think ... hey, I've got an idea!” Sam said with a determined grin, looking around his room before finding a decently quality speaker. He connected it to his phone before turning it all the way up. “What kind of music do you listen to?”

“Uhm ... I don't really care, I'll listen to whatever,” you said, walking over to him and peering over his shoulder.

He looked through his music before settling on something that might calm you down just a tad bit. Switching on some lofi music, he sat down on the edge of his bed before offering you two blankets. “Here, relax. Let all those worries away, you're not allowed to be upset in the chill zone,” Sam said, referring to his room.

You laid back against the wall, curled up in the mountain of blankets engulfing you. “... Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you said, having to speak in a louder voice so that he could hear you. That speak was doing a pretty good job.

“Don't sweat it, we all need help sometimes,” he said with a gentle smile, placing a hand on your shoulder. He slowly took his hand off before leaning back against the wall beside you. He closed his eyes as he listened to the soft beats of the music, perfectly covering the dangerous sounds of thunder outside. It was truly the chill zone.

You closed your eyes soon after he did, your head slipping from the wall to his shoulder soon enough. Neither of you knew, you were asleep at this point. Nothing could bother you two, it was a moment of mutual bliss. Everything was okay, all of your fears were put to rest.

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew valley headcanon #sdv headcanon #stardew valley oneshot #sdv oneshot #stardew valley sam #sdv sam #stardew valley sam x reader #sdv sam x reader #stardew valley sam x farmer #sdv sam x farmer #stardew valley sam headcanon #sdv sam headcanon #stardew valley sam oneshot #sdv sam oneshot #sdv headcanons #stardew

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oneshotnewbie · 1 year

Note

Can you a 'twoshot' out of the oneshot where Maya and Reader get into a fight and Reader runs off? Please please please I love the big sympathic and genius brain of yours ❤️

A/n: This is not proof read whatsoever because I am really exhausted of the week. Also it is a bit longer then expected because I got carried away. I still hope you like it ♥

---

In the rage you were about to sink into, you thoughtlessly headed for an old bar where you´d often spent your time when you needed to blow off steam for whatever reason. This, was on the outskirts of Seattle, on a connecting road to the next town; a perfect and quiet place where no one would try to look for you.

Unlike other places of this type, it was extremely quiet in this place.

Silence affected people differently; some loved it and others felt uncomfortable or even afraid of it. But you enjoyed the absence of annoying everyday noises and the kindling of silence, tranquility and peace.

While you sat at the bar and waited for your beer, you let the impressions of this place work on you. All the images, the soft sounds of the old music box and the sensations. Everything that people left behind had accumulated on the walls over the years. People may not have realized how much of themselves they leave in placed they visit- sadness, joy, pain, anger, fear, insecurity.. All this was buried deep in the walls, decorated and covered with dull light.

And you, too, did your share of these emotions today.

"Is the seat next to you still free?" a bit frightened, you turned your head to the female voice and your eyes immediately catch blue eyes which nevertheless shone like ice water in the stuffy and smoky air. "Yes, of course. Have a seat."

Filled with initially growing uncertainty, she perched on the stool beside you and as soon as she found a reasonably comfortable position, waved to a bartender. Besides you, she was the only female along all the men in this bar. "What can I get you?"

"An Asti Pink for me and a whiskey for the lady here." She winked at you, a smile lit the pretty face as she casually rested her elbows on the bar and stroked her shoulder-length, black curls. The black tank top, that she was wearing, riding up thereby revealing a black spot on her side; about a level with her hip bone. Just visible enough to make you curious.

It appeared to be writing, but you could not make it out in the darkened atmosphere. Before you had a chance to inspect it further, she turned back to you, sliding over the drink she ordered you earlier and you looked up, caught, letting the blood thaw and flush in your cheeks. Her lips formed into a wide smile. "Like what you see?"

You swallowed hard and fled your gaze in another direction; one of your hands digging behind your neck while your other hand reached out for the cool crystal glass that held your drink. "Thank you, but I don´t usually drink.."

"Honey, by the looks of you, you´ve had a rough day. And if you´ve had a hard day, you have to drink something hard too." she interrupted you and you just nodded, pouring the first sip into your body.

---

It was already after midnight when Carina and Maya were still awake, trying to determine your whereabouts. Silently, they were across from each other; Carina sitting at the dining table, playing around on their cell phone, texting and calling any of your friends and family asking if you´d came to their place.

But everyone denied it, even Andy, who they were hundred percent sure you would show up there sooner or later. "Thank you, Andy. Please call us and let us know if you hear anything from her."

"Nothing?" asked the blonde with trembling hands as the brunette angrily threw her phone on the wooden table. She was nervous, sick with fear and worry.

Restless, she walked in small circles between the kitchen and living room. She knew that you were a grown woman who could take care of herself but as a Captain of the fire brigade, she knew about the sick world out there and that it could get extremely dangerous.

"She´s not with Vic, not with Andy. She´s not with the boys and neither with the girls at Grey Sloan. Nobody saw her!" Carina shook her head grumpily and did not dare to look at her girlfriend, still deeply angry about the blonde´s behavior. "Why can´t you at least think one time before you act?"

Carina sighed as she sat desperately in the dark, only a small light from the lantern in front of the apartment encased the room, pinching the bridge of her nose with thumb and forefinger, feeling the stabbing pulse of her headache behind her eyes.

The Italian was waiting for your return, stroking her curls thoughtfully, not sure where else to look for you; there were no sign of your whereabouts. No one had heard from you and the worst thoughts were rattling in her head. "Do we call the police?"

"There is nothing they can do, babe. She is old enough and gone less than 24 hours. They would not even file a missing persons report."

"So we just sit here and do nothing, hoping she shows up again?" the brunette yelled desperately, completely frustrated and tired only to get a nod in return. She began to nervously fiddling with the clasp of her watch.

"Sei serio? Sembra fantastico." (Are you serious? Great!)

---

You were pulled onto the small dance floor by Cassy, your new acquaintance, and giggled as she showed off her drunken, nonexistent dancing skills. Soft music that didn´t invited to dance hummed through the pub, the lights were dimmed and embellished with a few LED´s, and at the bar the same bartender was still mixing drinks as desired.

"Come on, pretty woman. Swing your body and dance with me" she said loudly and a charming smile touched her lips which curled around the straw of her cocktail. You scrutinized her, her black hair falling in her face as she fixed you with her brown eyes.

Cassy came back to you, a grin curling her lips as she danced around you, sliding her index finger tenderly over your shoulder as she leaned towards you from behind, whispering in your ear. "C´mon, Y/n. Let´s have fun" she pronounces your name like it´s something special and even though you did not know her, you were attracted to her; so familiar and yet a total stranger.

A shiver run through you; her hot breath on your ear giving you goosebumps. She pulls you closer by the hips and aims to provocatively rotate her hips on your back. You absorb every shift as she moves gracefully to the music. Her hip swing must be from another planet; so erotic, so secy and just plain inciting.

The black-haired had turned you around skillfully, her front pressing against yours. Again, she let her hands wander; over your shoulders, down your waist to your hips and bridges the last gap between you. She stretched out her hand to your face; her thumb gliding delicately over your cheeks while her eyes seemed to study your face.

Cassy´s face was approaching an immoral level and you tensed up as your thoughts led you to what you were about to do; suddenly remembering your two wives, who were probably sitting at home sick with worry, hoping for your return. You were a faithful soul, you would not allow yourself to make such a huge mistake to cheat on them; for the three of you it was clear from the start that the first misstep would lead to separation.

And you did not want to risk that. You loved Maya and Carina too much, even more than yourself, to hurt them that badly just because of a little accident from the firefighter, who took her bad temper out on you. "Cassie.. we should not be doing this."

"For what reason? You´re young, have some fun." she whispered, taking another sip of her drink while placing her free hand on your hip; her face moving to the crook of your neck to place soft kisses on your tensed skin. You shook your head and pushed her slightly away from you to meet her eyes. "I have a wife at home.. two to be honest. And I am happy with them."

The black-haired looked at you in dismay, her eyes wide and her pupils dilated from all the alcohol coursing through her blood. "If you´re so happy, why did you end up here on your own?"

Silence reigned on your side. Even though you knew that exact answer to that question, you were not able to answer it; no words passed through your lips. You stare at her briefly, barely able to take your eyes off her as you want to leave without saying goodbye. But she grabs your arms and you turn back to her. "Here, in case you change your mind."

You stared at the napkin she held out to you, probably stuck in her pocket for a few hours, with her number on it. Hesitantly, you too the piece of paper with you, stowed it in one of your jacket pockets, which was placed over your arm and disappeared from the bar.

You just wanted to go home, back to your wives.

---

Maya stood at the open window of their shared apartment and breathed the cold air of the night deep into her lungs. Darkness enveloped all of Seattle and the only light that wrapped the room was the faint glow of the street laps. Only a few cars were on the road and they drove carefully on the narrow streets. There was hardly a person to be seen at the roadside.

Lost in her deepest thoughts, she ignored the creaking of the lock on the front door and your figured fitted across the hall. You were unsure whether what you were doing her was right and whether you were still welcomed at all.

You had no idea what time it was, but what you did know was that you were wet to the bone, freezing and shaking non-stop. On top of that, your head started pounding and you felt like shit.

"She´s finally back" the brown-haired reported and jumped up from her seat. She walked out of the living room and saw you standing in front of her, completely soaked. "Y/n, we were so worried" she whispered happily and hugged you tightly.

Astonished, the blonde looked at the young woman in front of her and you lowered your head so as not to have to meet her eyes. Maya almost whispered a soft ´hi´ and your face showed absolute surprise at her gentle manner, your point of view pulling up and meeting hers. Unsure, the blonde looked at you and for a split second the world seemed to stand still, blue and your eyes tied an invisible bond.

"Are you okay?" Carina´s hand went to your chin, forcing you to look at her. All you could see in her soft, brown eyes was pain, fear, anger and desperation. Wordlessly, you took her hand and entangled your fingers with hers. "Where have you been, bella?"

"I was in a bar and I met someone.." You started to whisper, having a hard time saying the words out loud because they amounted to nothing but the truth. You pulled the wet paper out of your jacket pocket, on which the writing was almost impossible to read. You held it between your fingers for a few seconds, bit your lip and exhaled deeply, replaying the experience of the past hours in your mind. "There was a woman. We drank, we danced.. This is her number"

You looked back at the blonde who had not moved an inch from her place in the living room. You could not tell what she was thinking and how she was feeling at that moment. Only that her eyes started to glitter in the dull light and her chin started to twitch with nervousness. "Do you..?"

"Kissed her? Made out with her? Slept with her?" your question was addressed to Maya, who dared to quietly ask the question that was burning in her heart. "No. I could not, never would. I love you both too much to hurt you like that."

Maya´s tearful eyes closed automatically of relief.

She bridged the last centimeters between you. Her lips were warm and soft and when they touched yours, it was like a horde of butterflies were flying around your stomach, making your anger at her go away instantly. The blonde was so worried about you and just needed this closeness now, had placed her hands on your neck and pulled you even closer.

"I am sorry. I should have asked how you are and should not have taken my mood out on you. God, I should not have used your past to hurt you." Maya´s hands fell on your hips, gently pressing her fingers into your sides. Carina, who quietly stood aside so that you could talk, moved onto your spine and drew circles on it, letting you shuddering under her touch. "But please, promise us to never do this again. Please do not just leave without any way to get in contact to you, not knowing where you are"

A small grin was unavoidable and you laid your head on her chest, letting Maya resting her head in the crook of your neck. Soft kisses covered the thin skin of yours and made your eyes droop. "I promise"

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wsdanon · 28 days

Text

also here's a wip of sorts of a dungeon meshi au me and jaime routeriver are having fun with \o/!! it technically works as a full oneshot, i just need to figure out whether i want to write it as a multichapter thing or not so for now i'm just posting on tumblr

It isn’t until they’re settling down for the night that it hits Pac that this will be the longest time they’ve been alone with Cellbit since prison.

Usually Felps is there as a buffer. Or they’re in a very public area with lots of witnesses. Or it’s only for a couple of hours.

But him and Mike have just signed themselves up for days—maybe weeks—alone with Cellbit in a place where they won’t often run into people, and death is common and easy enough to cover up.

He had just been so worried about Felps that even with Mike’s apprehension none of that had occurred to him.

It is very much occuring to him now.

They don’t need a watch technically, so Pac stutters out something about checking over his leg and waves away Mike’s concern. At least one of them should get a good night’s sleep tonight—and they definitely won’t want Mike sleep deprived while he’s checking over traps tomorrow.

Cellbit looks away quickly when he takes off the prosthesis. He would almost seem more squeamish about it than Pac is, but they both know that’s not true.

Pac watches out of the corner of his eye as Mike drifts off to sleep, and Cellbit prepares their food for storage.

Monsters. He never really thought he’d ever eat monsters. It feels almost like the same kind of forbidden as…

He bites his lip, and breathes deeply. They have no other food supplies. He can’t afford to throw up dinner just because his brain is making stupid connections.

But are they really stupid? Cellbit had gotten all strange when he mentioned he knew how to prepare them. Looking away from Pac the same way he carefully avoids looking at his leg.

It’s not… cannibalism. Not even really close to it, right now. But it still doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel good. There has to be a reason why Cellbit of all people knows all about this—

“Are you okay?”

Pac flinches at the sound of Cellbit’s voice.

“You’re looking a little…” Cellbit taps one of his own cheeks. “Pale, you know?”

“I’m, uh—I’m fine!” He sends Cellbit a shaky smile, internally cursing himself for how unconvincing it looks. “Totally fine, you know? Just—Yeah, all good here!”

“Okay.”

Cellbit looks unconvinced, but doesn’t push. Pac suppresses a shudder at the feeling of Cellbit’s piercing gaze analysing him.

Felps. He’s doing this for Felps. He’s doing this because Felps got eaten by a dragon because he pushed Cellbit out of the way.

Him and Mike didn’t have enough time to wait for Fit’s party to be ready, and Cellbit probably would’ve died if he went in alone like he was planning. And Pac… kind of likes Cellbit. You know, when there’s measures in place to stop him from killing them.

Besides, Cellbit’s different from Cell. That was one thing Felps promised when they ran into each other again, and even Mike agrees he’s changed at least a bit.

“Thank you.” Cellbit says, and this time Pac manages to hide his flinch. “For, like, coming with me even though I can’t really pay you for it. I appreciate it, and I know it’ll mean a lot to Felps.”

“Of course.” Pac shrugs, and messes with his leg some more. It really doesn’t need anything done to it, but he needs to at least try and look like he wasn’t lying. “Felps is, like—he’s a good friend, you know? And you probably would’ve died if you had to face the dragon alone, anyway.”

Pac tenses as soon as the potentially insulting words spill from his mouth. Forces out a nervous little laugh to show Cell—Cellbit he’s just joking.

But all Cellbit does is laugh, too.

“Yeah, probably.” He finally finishes putting away the food, and shifts to a more relaxed sitting position. “But it’s Felps, you know? I would’ve had to have tried something. Even if it was stupid.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

Honestly if Cellbit didn’t want to try, Pac probably would’ve come back down to save Felps himself. Well… not by himself. Mike probably would’ve come with him still.

Or Pac would’ve had to sneak past Mike so Mike didn’t stop him from trying. One of the two.

By himself he wouldn’t have had to hide as much, at least.

And on that note: at least if worse comes to worse, and Felps… isn’t as intact as they need, Cellbit won’t be able to judge him for using forbidden magic. Because forbidden magic can help people if used in the right circumstances—which are all the circumstances Pac plans on using it. All Cellbit—All Cell ever did was hurt.

“I’m sorry.” Cellbit says. “This must be, uh, kinda weird for you, huh?”

“What do you mean?” Pac forces himself to smile. “It’s—It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Well, it’s not every day you eat monsters, right?” Cellbit shrugs. “A lot of adventurers don’t even think about it, and you didn’t seem… keen earlier.”

Oh. Right. That’s what he’s talking about.

“Ah, I’ll get over it.” He hopes it doesn’t sound as fake to Cellbit as it sounds to himself. “It’s for Felps, you know? And you—you, uh, know a lot, right? You’re probably not gonna k-kill us by preparing it wrong.”

Although maybe in other, more purposeful ways…

No, he shouldn’t think like that.

“I’ll try my best not to.” Cellbit says, with a genuine little smile.

It’s soft—from the tone of his voice, to his smile. Like they’re just friends joking around. Nothing like how Cell would act.

It’s not—It’s not unusual for him now, really. It just feels… out of place. In this context. Because Pac can’t shake off the feeling that Cell’s just going to pop back up again and kill them.

Felps had been almost too honest about Cellbit’s progress. Had rambled about how fixated Cellbit was on getting revenge the first few months after getting off the island—before Felps managed to direct his attention elsewhere.

If it wasn’t for the fact Felps still stuck by Cellbit despite what Cellbit did to him in prison, Pac might’ve even left town entirely to avoid running into Cell again. They had passed by Felps’ body before leaving, after all. Pac was certain he was dead.

Felps seems happier now, too. And he had sacrificed himself for Cellbit. So, that most likely rules out the possibility that he’s still being blackmailed. There’s no reason why Felps would still be with Cellbit if he didn’t genuinely change.

Pac just wishes he could get his brain to believe it.

“I’m going to get some rest.” Cellbit says, smothering a yawn. “You probably should, too, yeah? We’ll have some big days ahead of us.”

“Yeah, I’m just—” he gestures at the leg in front of him. “—Just finishing up my check.”

Cellbit opens his mouth like he’s going to speak. Then shuts it again without saying anything, and moves to get under the covers of his bedroll. Pac waits until he thinks Cellbit’s asleep before getting into his own.

It’ll only be for a week or so, right? A few days of discomfort is nothing compared to the thought of letting Felps rot in that dragon’s stomach.

Besides, Cellbit’s had plenty of opportunities to kill them over the years. He hasn’t done it yet. That has to count for something.

hope you guys enjoyed \o/!!!

#wsd/w.ips #wsd/f.ics #cannibalism mention #ab.aeterno

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sandy-the-glader · 10 months

Note

George x reader (fem or gn you choose) so reader is the new neighbour, while they are talented too their parents didn’t make them work, got to go to college and have a somewhat normal life. However Lockwood & Co are the only people their age and they are lonely during summer so they decide to ask them if they want a hand (they are clueless on how agencies work) and Lockwood is so desperate with administration and/or stock deliveries he accepts. Reader starts working at Portland Row, never going on the field and while reader gets on well with Lucy and Lockwood, George is a bit more cold bc not only reader is treating this as a summer job, he resents reader for the opportunity of pursuing their studies and prob jealous of reader and their family next door. Too specific perhaps? Pick what you want but I need more George x reader 🫠🫠🫣

New assistant

Character: George Karim × Fem!Reader

Type: fluff, tad bit of angst

Length: 3.2k words

Summary: (Basically the request above!)

Trope: Girl Next Door/Grumpy x Sunshine (I'm sorry i love George and this trope)

A/n: LONG A/N omg don’t worry about the ask being too detailed it actually helps me out a lot because I can just fill in all the details and this was the easiest one to write out of all my requests so thank you I really adore it! I did change a few things so I hope that's okay. Enemies to Lovers oneshot coming out soon (hopefully) also I’m so sorry this came out late I’ve been slacking big time!! Also if you guys wanna request for Gilbert Blythe from Anne with an E I would love it

"Hi." I greeted. "I'm Y/n the new neighbor next door and I just wanted to introduce myself and ask you something." I pointed with my thumb to my left referencing my house.

"Oh hello. I briefly spoke with your father this morning." He recalled.

"I apologize if he isn't the most talkative. My mother is the chatty one." I cleared my throat. "You're Anthony Lockwood right?" He nodded.

"Most people just call me Lockwood but please come in." He moved to the side. I stepped inside and the layout basically mirrored our house. It was very cozy and homey.

The walls were littered with artifacts it was almost like a mini museum to look at. It was really extraordinary to see. There was also a little bench and an umbrella holder mainly with rapiers in it.

He lead me into the living area and it was just as cozy as the hallway I sat in one of the chairs and he briefly excused himself. I looked around the room keeping my eyes busy.

I sat patiently just waiting for Lockwood to return. I heard some clattering in the kitchen then he soon came back with a sheepish smile playing on his lips.

"Sorry about that." He placed a tray of biscuits and tea in front of me. "I normally would have George do that part but he's out of the house at the moment."

"Oh, it's fine I really don't mind." I tried to calm his stressed mood. That's why I wanted the job. "So I overheard the other day that you needed an assistant? I was in need of a job so I was hoping I could help around here? Take some of the load off your guy's backs?" I asked nervously.

Since the houses were connected sometimes you could hear them talking in certain rooms. The other day is when I heard a male voice complain about needing more people and how there was never enough time for re-stocking salt bombs or preparing chains. I only knew so much about both items but I was sure willing to try.

"Ah yes, that would be perfect around here. We've all been working and we don't have time anymore for certain things." He chuckled. "Um, do you happen to have any talents? Just curious."

"Oh yes, I have touch and a bit of sight. I just never became an agent because I wanted to go to school." He nodded understanding the situation. "And my parents never forced it upon me. They always thought the business was too dangerous so..."

"Well frankly we really are desperate but you will get the same pay as George and Lucy. I want to thank you this will honestly be more help than you may think." I shook my head.

"It really is not a big deal I'm really in need of a summer job right now and this helps me too." Before I could elaborate the front door swung open and it revealed a pair arguing about something.

"No no no that's actually wrong!" The boy argued. I assumed that was George and the girl was Lucy.

"Please not in front of our guest." Lockwood gave them a desperate smile. "This is Y/n. She moved in last week." Lucy gave me a small smile and placed her bag by the entrance of the room. She walked over to me and shook my hand.

"I'm Lucy Carlyle. It's good to finally meet you." she looked at the other boy trying to tell him to introduce himself. He sighed as if I was causing him a problem.

"George Karim." He spoke before walking off.

"I'm sorry about him. He’s not good with new people." Lockwood apologized.

"It's okay! I understand." I let out a nervous chuckle.

The rest of the day was full of many things mainly the tour of the house/ where everything was located. It was a little nerve-wracking because I wanted to make a good impression and make sure I did the job right.

At the end of the day, Lockwood explained the times he wanted me here and when I could leave. Everything sounded good and maybe I would actually have a good summer this year.

As the sun started to dip down below the trees across from our houses, I quietly shut the door of Lockwood and Co easily slipping out of the house.

I pulled out the key and slid it into the lock. I opened the door and was hit with a pleasant aroma. Garlic, spices, it was some recipe I couldn't place.

"I'm home." I called out. I heard my dad in the kitchen and my mom was somewhere in the house. I filled up on tea and many biscuits over at the house so I wasn't exactly in the mood for something to eat. I slipped off my shoes and went up the stairs to my room.

Walking into 35 Portland Row the next day there was already chaos. Lockwood was running around searching for his tie, George was complaining about tea and Lucy was yelling about chains.

"Lockwood!" I got his attention and he slowed down a little bit. "I'll help you find your tie okay? What's happening what's the rush?"

"We have to talk about a case with a big company in 15 minutes, we woke up late and we were not prepared. They wanted to see our equipment and-"

"Hey. Again I'll find your tie, I'll pack up some salt bombs and flares. Slow down it's gonna be alright. You hired me so you wouldn’t be stressed.” He nodded and gulped lightly.

I made sure to stop by the kitchen first to see George in distress about how they somehow had absolutely no tea in the house.

“Hey you can go get ready I’ll be sure to pick up some tea later.” I proposed to George. He hummed as if not to care and walked out of the room. He has been so difficult already and I haven't even known him for 24 hours.

Lockwood’s tie was in the kitchen on one of the chairs. I snagged it and headed down to the storeroom. Lucy was a stressed mess going through chains and trying to go through flares at the same time. "Lucy." I interrupted her thoughts. "How about I sort and oil chains for you guys and I'll take care of the supplies. Go have a quick breakfast, George and Lockwood too.”

She sighed and briefly hugged me.

"Thank you."

"Yeah of course!" She quickly ran out of the storage room and I heard her head up the stairs.

There were many different types of flares to choose from, salt bombs too. I grabbed a few different kinds and placed three in a smaller bag down here obviously for missions.

I walked out of the storeroom and slung the bag of supplies over my shoulder to carry upstairs. Lockwood had been pacing in the kitchen and Lucy had a piece of toast in her hand. Not sure where George had wandered off to but I was nervous for them all to be on time.

“Tie and supplies.” I handed both things to Lockwood and a wave of relief washed over him.

“Thank you Y/n truly you’re a lifesaver.” I nodded and stepped back. They both started to drift out of the room and soon the house was filled with silence.

Well, that was one way to start the first day. What was I thinking? I don't know how to oil chains or how I'm supposed to sort them. How hard could it be..?

"Why did you let her put everything together?" George grumbled in the taxi.

"What do you mean?" Lockwood furrowed his eyebrows.

"She just started here and she acted like she could fix everything and how do you know she will just do everything right?"

"Because I hired her and I have faith. George, you just have to give her a chance." George grumbled in response and just stared out the car window.

Over time and working at 35 Portland Row I seemed to realize one thing that never seemed to change. George Karim.

It's like he goes out of his way to pick on things I didn't do correctly. It is possibly the hardest thing to deal with.

"We needed more salt bombs."

"Why didn't you get flares while we were out?"

“That’s not how you do it!”

Even when I'm not working and I'm hanging out with Lucy he will complain were "too loud" or "disturbing his peace"

He is extremely different around me. Whenever I walk into the same room as him it's like his whole mood changes. There's always this look in his eye I could never understand.

Anger? Hatred even?

He was friendly around Lockwood and Lucy but never me. I was really determined to figure out what I did to make him this way with me.

“Hey Luce?” I rolled over on Lucy’s bed.

“Hm?” She asked as she was painting her nails black.

“So you know why George isn’t fond of me?” She snorted.

“He’s fond of you even thought he might not like to show it exactly..?”

“It makes it sound like you’re just trying to make me feel better.” I groaned.

“Hey.” She looked at me pausing her nails. “Over these past couple of months, you’ve become like my closest friend. Why would I lie to you?” She put the nail polish brush back into the bottle and placed it on the side table.

“Because you’re Lucy Carlyle and you’re the most mischievous person I know.” She gasped before throwing a pillow at me with her non-painted hand. “See! Mischief!” Maybe and hopefully Lockwood would know.

"Lockwoooooood." I wined. He was surrounded by books in the library. He jolted up at my voice.

"Oh um hi." His eyes were wide and tired.

"Lockwood you need a nap." I frowned. He has a few empty tea cups surrounding him.

"Nevermind that. What did you need?" He blinked a couple of times trying to wake himself up. He looked quite a mess I wasn't even sure I should be asking him this right now.

"If I tell you, you must take a nap after." He nodded and kept blinking.

"Do you know why George doesn't like me?" Lockwood sat up and looked shocked.

"He doesn't not like you." I groaned.

"Ugh, that's what Lucy said! But it's true he obviously dislikes me I can see it in his cold eyes." Lockwood cracked a smile.

"He does i promise. But if you want to make any of us happy in this house.. food is the way to go."

"Thank you!" I beamed. Not only did I get a tip for George but for all of them.

I placed all of the bags of food on the kitchen table. I took Lockwood's advice immediately.

I made sure to purchase my own ingredients. George was picky about people using his spices or things in the fridges without his knowing and even if you did ask it was most always a definite no.

I wanted to cook for Lockwood and everyone else! Just a small nice gesture. And also to make George like me more.

I’ve had little experience from cooking but just enough to make this recipe. My family made it constantly and kept the ingredients and steps on a little note card in the kitchen.

I did my best and followed along as well as I could. I added everything as it should be, no more no less.

The smell attracted Lockwood into the kitchen.

“Oh Y/n. Hi.” I hummed. “I thought George was cooking.”

“Nope. Thought I’d do something for you guys. You’ve had a long week. You better have taken that nap like I told you.” The agents had many back-to-back cases making them extremely exhausted. Of course, I packed their gear each and every day and made sure they had something in their system before going off to fight visitors.

And since George has been tired he hasn’t been cooking meaning they’ve only been eating out.

“That’s very thoughtful. And I have by the way.” Lockwood flashed his signature smile and raised his hands in defense. "May I help?"

"Oh no, Lockwood! You sit down while I do this for you okay?"

"You've been doing so much all month! And the month before that too."

"Thats my job Lockwood." I chuckled.

"Just let me help a little bit." I sighed. I knew I couldn't keep him from helping since this is his kitchen and the boy is stubborn.

I don't know how but in a matter of minutes he made it so astonishingly messy.

"Hey if you keep making it this messy you're cleaning it up."

"Okay okay!" He laughed. With the extra help, the dish was being made way faster than before. Even if his real purpose was to mess up the kitchen and I swear it was.

"Can you go grab Lucy and George for me?" Lockwood hummed and he pulled his lanky body out of the kitchen and up to the bedrooms.

I started to place all of the food onto the table and I made everything as neat and pretty as I could. I wanted tonight to be special and I wanted George to actually like me. Even if it was just for tonight that wouldn't be all that bad.

One by one the members of Lockwood and co trudged down the steps and landed into the kitchen. A small chatter filled the room and it felt really nice to have this again.

Since they were always eating out this week I could never really join them and besides I was never at the house past the time they left at dusk. I always did the chores during the day and I only stayed if they asked me to.

They all pulled out a chair and Lockwood grabbed drinks and such . Soon they started grabbing their own servings of the food and their faces morphed into a interested grin. Except George of course he kept his plain look but I swear I saw the corners of his cheeks twitch as if he were going to.

The actual part where they tried the food was nerve-wracking. I was worried they wouldn’t like this but as soon as George spoke out my worries faded away.

"This isn't bad." George hummed

"Yeah, this is amazing Y/n! Where did you learn to cook like this?" She shoveled some more food into her mouth.

"Eh you know just my parents." George glanced down at his food.

"You should stay in tonight." Lockwood offered. "The food was great like they said and I'm sure we could all find something to do together."

I thought for a moment. The plan sounded lovely but I was sure I had plans later tonight.

"Well, my parents must-" George abruptly stood up and stormed out of the room and out of the house. The door made a loud bang. We all sat in silence.

I didn’t know what happened did but I for sure knew it had something to do with me.

I wasn't sure what to do so I followed George out of the house and saw him sitting on the steps with his hand propping his head up. I didn't say anything I just sat next to him.

"I'm sorry for whatever I did to you. I don't know what I said or did but I just don't want you to be angry with me." George was silent for a moment his eyes glued to the street.

"I'm not mad at you." He finally said looking over at me. "I'm jealous." He admitted. I almost laughed but I was genuinely curious. I was doing Lockwood and Co's dirty work for gods sake. And of course, I wasn't mad about that that's what I signed up for. But in that moment I finally realized that look he gave me. It was jealousy.

"Jealous of what?" I frowned.

"Your relationship with your parents." He sighed. I was shocked but it made sense. All I've been talking about since I arrived here was my parents. I looked at him waiting for him to elaborate. "My parent's raised my siblings to be so successful they were all born engineers and I was just the odd child. When I got fired from Fittes they looked down on me they were so disappointed they barely even let me tell them why."

I was partly glad that George didn't hate my guts but another part of me felt sorrow for him.

"You're not an odd child." George scoffed at that. "It's true! You're so smart I've seen it. You crack most of the cases and Lucy tells me how quickly you find the sources. I've heard how hard you work to do research for this agency. Coming into this agency I had absolutely no idea how anything worked and now being around you and all the others… I feel like I know everything.” He nodded softly.

I scooted closer to him and he smiled.

“I know what it feels like to not fit in. In high school and even college, I was always a loner. I didn’t fit in with the other kids. Most of them would have parties and have fun but I was always sucked into my studies and that’s what made people not notice me. Well, I couple did and tossed me around for it but usually, they were drunk asshole boys who just wanted to get into a girl's pants.” George gave me a concerned look. “But here I feel like I have a place. Like I’m heard from and you guys understand me. And George… we all fit in together.”

It looked like something clicked in his brain. Like he finally realized something.

“You shouldn’t have to get your parent's approval to be successful.” I nudged him.

“I guess I just always paid attention to what I needed to improve on or do better I never realized what good was happening in front of me.” I patted his thigh. “I always preferred everything to be perfect. I think that’s why I made comments to you so much.”

“I’m also quite glad you don’t hate my guts.” He laughed. “I’m serious! I actually thought you hated me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just not a big fan of the unfamiliar. But you have been working here for well over two months.”

“It’s okay I just hope we’re okay from this.” I pointed between us.

“Yes yes.” He clarified.

“Now can we go back inside? And it’s quite hot and I want a donut.” I complained. George stood up and offered a gentle hand. I took it and struggled a bit because I swear I was almost melted to the ground.

We entered quietly and went back down to the kitchen where we saw Lockwood and Lucy giving each other very lovey eyes.

Me and George exchanged very well knowing looks.

“You know if you two are going to keep looking at each other like that you might as well kiss.” He spoke out making them jump in shock.

“Yeah it’s really quite painful you know?” I crossed my arms.

“No, we’re not like that I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lockwood fumbled with his words.

“Yeah, we aren’t doing anything.” Lucy flushed. “Yeah well since when are you two partners in crime?” I shrugged.

“Now.”

#lockwood and co #george karim #lockwood & co #george karim x reader #save lockwood and co #george karim x you #george cubbins

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renhaswritersblock · 1 year

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hello!! could you do w, i, and o for abner on the nsfw alphabet? i am so desperate for content abt him lmao 😭😭 thank u for still writing him

Abner Krill (Polka-dot-man) - NSFW Request (I, O, W)

Me: Oh boy, Abner! I’ve always been wanting to write something about this colorful dancing king queen since I watched TSS. This is going to be fun!

[Two/half months later.]

Me: *Staring intently at a bulletin board covered in pictures and notes with red string connecting to them, not knowing what time or day it is.*

Life [Walks in.]: Hey, uhh– friendly reminder that you still have that Government paper due tomorrow.

Me: MUTHERFU–

[Weeks later.]

Me [On the floor, defeated by the heavy mass of writer's block, reaching towards laptop to press enter.]: Finished– *Get’s crushed by an anvil of more writing tasks.*

—

A/N: I had made a Venn Diagram of Abs, Bob, and Lonny to differ the boys since they all fall under the meow meow category. So, thank you for the wait.

Ima say this takes place after the TSS movie – don’t care if he died, as James A. Janisse would maybe say, “No body, no count.” (Same with Flag. *kicks book of Necromancy For Dummies under bed*)

Warning: Usual NSFW stuff, nothing too extreme. Made some parts long (cause I do what I want). Some head cannons that totally didn’t come up to me randomly while I was halfway through finishing. No proofreading, I go down in style. Is there anything smutty in the first half? No, not really. Did I get carried away again and build a oneshot sort of story? Perhaps. Will I ever make a long smutty moment in any of the alphabet requests? Idk. Hotel? Trivago.

Leans toward female reader pov, but mostly towards gender neutral.

Anyhoo, happy readings!

===

I: Intimacy (*looks over at the letter C* Perhaps, I misjudged you.)

Abner lacks physical and emotional intimacy – and you can’t really blame him for it. Being locked up in Belle Reve and made fun of by the other inmates for so long – and to top it all off, his condition and past – he doesn’t have good social skills nor the confidence to approach someone for friendly/flirtatious banter. Even when he and his Task Force X friends go out to celebrate their new freedom at a local club, he still remains reserved and hidden. So he thought.

Throughout the night, Abner watched everyone have fun while sitting in a booth next to a large – totally not a man-eating shark – distinguish gentleman with a mustache, staring intently at a fish tank behind them. Cleo was out dancing wildly on the dance floor with a group of people, Harley sat across the room drinking with three intimidating women, and both Flag and Dubois went somewhere private to chat and drink alone. He consistently looks around the large room, scanning the neon interior and dancing occupant exotically swaying side to side, sipping his drink until his eyes land on a certain someone sitting by the bar. You.

You idly sat on one of the empty stools, swirling your drink in apathy and wearing the most eccentric, colorful outfit that made you stick out of the crowd. Abner nearly choked, spitting his drink through his nose, and erupted into a coughing fit. He didn’t notice Cleo returning to the booth, rushing to sit beside him, gently hitting his back. You were alone – in fact – you looked like you were waiting for someone, glancing at your surroundings and at your phone every minute.

Supposedly, your date should’ve been here an hour ago. They texted you the address to this place to meet you at a time that was way past your curfew. Without a second thought, you agreed. You spend your whole evening prepping yourself to look nice. The only attire suitable for your first night out was the one that made it look like a clown puked on you. Looking around once more, you scan the room in hopes of seeing your date, not spotting Abner a few feet away staring gawkily at you, swiftly ducking his head to avoid glances.

Abner could feel his face burn red hot, he couldn’t hear Cleo’s muffled words over the sound of his heart pounding in his ear. He finally drew his attention towards Cleo when he heard her say, your glowing. Instantly, he slaps his face out of instinct to check if his glowing rash started popping up – knowing already he expelled the dots before they left. This is a first… Cleo gaped as his face began to flare up into dim hues of blue and red to green and yellow. His eyes move back to you, staring at your phone with a bleak expression.

Honestly, you weren’t surprised when the screen showed they left you on read. You figured they would bail at the last minute, wasting half of your night to embarrass yourself. Thoughts began running through your head as you felt your chest grow heavy. I think that’s enough for one night. Holding back your tears, you took a shot of your drink and tapped the glass on the counter, going to spin your chair towards the exit when a tall man wearing what seems to be also a colorful button-up blouse blocks your way, startling you. Abner stood stiff as a board, nervously smiling at you. There was a moment of silence between you two. You watched as he glanced over and back at you, sending you mixed signals. Curious at what he was looking at, you turned and spotted two girls looking directly at you, one waving shyly, the other giving a thumbs up, and a– Wait is that a shark in disguise and a rat also waving at us?

You snap your attention back to the man in front of you, hearing him clear his throat out of discomfort before introducing himself as Abner, reaching his hand out towards you. To your dismay, you mindlessly took his hand, shaking it while telling him your name. Abner’s heart flutters at the sight of you smiling softly at him. You catch a glimpse of his cheeks glowing strangely, thinking it could be the lighting in the room. He takes a seat next to you, mumbling if he can buy you a drink, his smile widening when you accept the offer.

Shortly after your second drink, you hit it off pretty quickly, talking about certain things the two of you like, such as movies, and him introducing you to the group – keeping a very close eye on Nana– Bob doesn’t do anything to you.

Soon you two were on the dance floor, swaying and bobbing your heads to the music, and before you knew it, you were face-to-face. Abner remembered sharing a long gaze with you, feeling as if time suddenly froze. He felt his cheeks boil achingly, noticing your expression contort into a bewildered look. Random patches of colorful glowing dots appeared and disappeared on his face. His eyes seemed to change color, following the primitive colors.

Although you admired the way he looked, Abner on the other hand took it as a sign of being repulsed, causing something to trigger in his mind. But before he could let the imagery into his head, he hears you call out his name, slowly approaching him. You ask if you could hold his hand, reaching out for it when he accepts. You both stood in the middle for a while, only listening to the music playing on the speakers. Once he felt himself subside, he pulls towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist. You did the same, putting your arms around his neck, whispering reassuring words. He burrows his face into your shoulder, embracing the unknown feeling in his chest as his face emits a dim glow once again.

O: Oral

*Abner: Clitoris?! Labia Majora?! Damn girl, how many pussies you got?!*

Abs is ok with giving oral to his partner. He’s a lil’ confuse at first, but he got spirit. He isn’t on the top 3, but somewhere around maybe 4-5. Krill prefers to use his hands to stimulate you than his mouth – since he can be flamboyant. It’s also a way for him to be slightly dominant and in control, edging you as soon as you near climaxing.

When receiving oral from you, he melts into a whimpering puddle – he’s squirmish and restless at times, but only because you keep teasing his tip and shaft for revenge. To him, the sensation never gets old.

W: Wild Card (*cracks knuckles*)

*inhales*

Liiiiisten.

There’s a hc I have for this guy, but I prefer not to say what it is since it’s quite…vulgar. That and it also goes with a letter that rhymes with see. So here’s two headcannons that are pretty tame. Also, I hc Abner to be a vers.

Anyways.

Whenever Abner is having sexual intercourse with his partner, showing his emotions can be rather complex than his platonic relationship with you. Thus when he’s trying to gaze into your eyes, all you receive is a wide-eyed stare as he thrusts into you. Another aspect of his is uncontrollable giggling. At any moment, when you're riding him, something in his head switches and causes him to be a laughing mess. You remembered briefly stopping to ask him why he keeps laughing every single time you ask that question his response is the same, it feels good.

===

A/N: Hope ya'll enjoyed reading, and thank you for liking/reblogging. I find it hard to express my emotions sometimes and overthink it. When I see that I'm getting positive remarks on a couple of stuff I wrote, I acknowledge and appreciate the kindness, but never respond to it. So again, thank you so much for the support. Next one's gonna be a Johnson request, and then whatevers on the to-do list.

#david dastmalchian #abner krill x reader #abner krill smut #polka dot man x reader #polka dot man

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