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aloesarchives · 2 months

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The Echoes from Yesterday: "The Ghost of His Yesterday: Her" (Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader) (1/3)

TW/Warnings: Female Reader/Pronouns, Profanity, Pure Angst, Angst No Happy Ending, Minor Character Death Mentioned, Toji cannot cope, Reader Highkey Hurting

Pairing: Toji x Fem!Reader, Megumi x Fem!Reader(Platonic/Parental)

Reader/Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 9.09k words

[!!Edited and Proofread as of 3/13/2024 6:35 pm CST!!]

Love isn’t the easiest thing in the world.

But you were unaware how loving a broken man would be onerous. A decision that would lead to an immense heartache, something you failed to realize until it was too late.

You knew he was still mourning her, and rightfully so. She was his first and only love, the only woman he ever gave his heart towards.

You weren’t asking for much. You didn’t want to replace her. No, never in a million years. You only hoped wished Toji would allow you to love him. To make space in his heart. To have a chance of slowly laying his heart open like he had done before with her.

Unfortunately it never came, not once during the duration of five years being together.

You meet Toji by chance at the supermarket store not too far from your residence. You never paid much attention to him until he brought a 5 month old baby boy. He was a silent but curious little one with his green eyes looking at anything.

Funny enough, the baby boy named Megumi was the reason you and his father even interacted. It was a random day where you were in the fresh meat section, looking at the deals they had for the day. You were focused on finding what you needed when a small gurgle snapped you out of your trance.

You glanced over to the little cherub looking up at you, smiling with his two bottom teeth barely showing. You gave a warm smile with a small wave his way. This made Megumi more giddy and vocal as he let out a few babbling giggles. You let out a soft chuckle seeing him bouncing in his seat while flailing his arms. The jingle of his teething ring followed his movements until it slipped out of his chubby hands. You were quick to catch it, hating to see him sad.

Handing it back to him, you were caught off-guard when he grabbed your hand. His attention was now off the toy and onto you. Megumi held onto you as he smiled like the little cherub he was. You, however, were a little concerned when realizing his father was out of sight. As cute as Megumi was, you didn’t want to cause trouble with his dad for interacting with you. Just as Megumi loosen his grip, you heard a low chuckle behind you.

“Megumi, you’re in a better mood now than earlier. Is it because you’re bothering her?”

That’s when you meet him, the towering man who also was the father of the little baby that caught your attention. His eyes met yours and something in your heart flickered. He was attractive, a glaring observation. But the way his grin highlighted the scar on his right side of his lips caught your attention.

“Sorry about my son, Miss. He’s a little troublemaker and a rascal.”

You playfully snickered at his harmless insult for Megumi.

“It’s fine. He’s quite the cute baby. I don’t mind the trouble at all.”

You don’t remember the details of that small interaction. But you knew you would see both of them again. Surprisingly, Toji walked you to your car. Although you thanked him, your wandering eyes caught a glimpse of gold on his left finger.

‘Oh…’

You knew better than to mess with marriages and have affairs. But you felt disappointed knowing Toji is married. But hey, he treated you nicely and respectfully. So maybe you could be an acquaintance or even a friend if you’re lucky. It was a weekly encounter with the man and his son, always having small talk while you entertained Megumi. Weeks turned into a month, then a month became six months.

After some time, you grew comfortable around them as you always looked forward to seeing them each week. But you noticed a key detail that felt off: where’s Toji’s wife? The mother of Megumi, where is she?

You thought she was working or a very busy woman. So during one of your weekly interactions, you asked Toji about the whereabouts of his wife. The question was meant to be harmless, you didn’t mean to pry. But the change in Toji’s face and his body going stiff showed you’ve crossed a line.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Toji! I didn’t mean to be nosy about your personal life! If it’s a sensitive topic, you can drop it and I’ll never bring it up again.”

Toji knew it was the only matter of time before you asked the question. More so, he’s anticipating your reaction to his answer more than your question itself. The guilt washing over you seeing the tall well-built man deflate in front of you. His callous hand slowly rubbed his face, pondering at the question that you threw into the open. He sighs before facing you, seeing your face full of shame and embarrassment.

“Toji, you don’t have to. I was out of line for–”

“No…No it’s fine, (Y/N). It’s just…I can’t really talk about something like that here. If we were in private, I can give the answer to your question. You free tomorrow?”

As much as shutting down Toji’s invitation would’ve brought your dignity back, something inside told you to go through with it. And so you agreed to it.

“I am, are you okay with noon? The weather is doable around that time and I don’t want to make Megumi sick. There’s this cafe where we can meet up. It's hidden in one of the side streets and has privacy booths if that's okay with you. You want me to send the address to you?”

“Yeah… That’ll be great, (Y/N).”

He relaxes in your gaze but it feels like you trespassed onto treacherous waters. The next day, you waited for Toji outside the cafe. Frequently looking between your phones and the busy street of people to see any sign of the duo. Before you dial his number, you spotted the familiar gray jacket and a stroller heading your way.

You waved in his direction to catch his attention which worked because his gaze connected with yours. You smiled at him as he made his way over before peaking in the stroller to see a baby Megumi sleeping, covered in his puppy baby blanket. You walk inside and a server already takes you to a secluded booth. You ordered your drinks ahead of time and they were ready once you sat down. Toji’s drink is easy, straight up black coffee with no sugar or creamer.

The two of you talked for a bit. Well, you were beating around the bush from yesterday's topic. Taking your anxiety by the throat, you finally had the guts to repeat your question from yesterday. Your abruptness didn’t startle Toji as he took a good sip. His answer was unexpected, one which was dreadful than his assumed replies you thought of.

“My wife died last year…She had an unknown illness the doctors couldn’t figure out even though they tried everything. But it was catching up to her faster than the doctors could work. Megumi was only barely 3 months old when she passed away…”

You didn’t know what to do. Yes, you wanted to comfort Toji but you didn’t know what to say. By the looks of things, it’s just him and his son. He has no other support from families on both sides. No friends either to lean on. You're probably his only friend he’s ever made. He was a single dad trying to take care of his son after the sudden death of his wife. But you were empathetic to him, Megumi, and their situation. You offered to help him out with Megumi, not out of pity but out of compassion.

“If it’s okay with you, I can help you out with Megumi. My work hours are short and early in the morning. That’s why I’m always available after 12:00 pm. I’m off during the weekends too. It wouldn’t be much of an inconvenience to me at all…You need help raising Megumi, Toji…”

His lips form into a sneer momentarily before returning to a straight line.

“Was it that obvious, (Y/N)?”

Carefully, you selected your words to not sound patronizing towards him.

“No…It wasn’t, at first. But after what you just told me…I think you need some extra hands to deal with this. It wouldn’t hurt to ask for help, Toji…”

He really didn’t want to…He knew you’re a kind individual when he laid eyes on you. You were different to him, being good-natured…something that was awfully similar to how his late wife was like, especially how you treated him when you two first met. He couldn’t let you be dragged into his own shortcomings as a father. You were young, 23 to be precise. You had a future ahead of you, you couldn’t slow it down for a single dad and his kid. Yet here you are, offering your help to him with no form of repayment whatsoever. It was genuine too, he could feel it when you offered a soft tender smile towards him.

He grins and allows you to help him and his son out. Though your smile didn’t change, he felt his heart rate doubled when your eyes became soft like your smile. You two left the cafe and walked along the city. Cutting through a nearby park, the two of you were in a conversation as the park’s flora were in the early stage of blossoming. You two didn’t get far as you heard some rustling coming from the stroller. Pausing your conversation, you and Toji looked inside to see Megumi stir himself awake. He slowly rubs his eyes as he sits up. Still rubbing the sleep out his eyes, he let out a whine causing Toji to stop. You raise an eyebrow observing Toji as he picks up Megumi. Then, from a whine came a small sniffle, the sniffle turned into a small sob. You watched Toji comfort a crying Megumi. Rocking him in his arms and rubbing his head gently.

Yet nothing was working to calm Megumi. By instinct alone, you wanted to comfort Megumi. Yet, you felt hesitation take over. Reeling back and forth between your two emotions, you decided to step in and hold out your hands towards Toji. The man gave you a strange look before slowly handing you his son. Once in your arms, Megumi’s crying had slowed to a stop. As you held him in your arms, you slowly rubbed his back while humming. Toji never admitted out loud but seeing how his son calmed down in your arms made his heart erupt into a feeling he wasn’t so used to.

From then on, you helped Toji out with raising Megumi. It was some work but you didn’t mind it at. Picking up Megumi from school, watching him when Toji was away or busy, running errands for Toji, and helping around their apartment, etc. You soon learned he was a quiet baby. Besides the occasional crying, he was silent for the most part when he wasn’t excited. You also noticed he’s only happy when he’s around either you or Toji. Showing it through his little baby ways, making you become attached and affectionate of Megumi. It only grew as you watched Megumi grow up.

Over time, taking care of Megumi became a part of your routine and eventually life. You grew fond and close with him. Though it was unofficial, it felt as if he was your own son. During that time, you and Toji grew close as well. A year into your involvement in his and his son’s life, you ask Toji if he liked you. To which he responded with “Yeah…Actually, I like you a lot, (Y/N)...” At the time, you felt relieved that your feelings were mutual. Seemingly the next 5 years with him and Megumi would be bliss. But that should’ve been the first sign something was up.

Although you’re not one for paranoia, you felt things between you and Toji were off as the years passed. There were little things here and there like not always holding your hand outside, lack of nicknames, and curt answers when you ask him about his day when he comes home. But you concluded it was your tendency to overthink.

However, everything changed when Megumi called you Mama. He had just turned four when he said it. Normally, he would call you “(Y/N)-san” when he’s with you. You were waiting for him as usual on the day it happened. And on the dot, you see Megumi come out with his teacher with a piece of paper in his hand. You walk up to them to retrieve Megumi from his teacher but Megumi starts to fiddle with his paper, which worries you a bit.

“Megumi, why don’t you show her what you made today in class? I think she would love it.”

His teacher gave him an encouraging smile that pushed Megumi to show you what he drew. It was a picture of three stick figures. One had a scar on the line that you assumed was the lips, a smaller one that looks like Megumi, then another that looked like you.

“Aw, Megumi. Did you draw us?”

“Yeah, because you’re Mama, (Y/N)!”

You didn’t know a child could bring such warmth and a feeling of belonging, but Megumi did. You open your arms and he goes in without hesitation. You hug him tightly before patting his head.

“Thank you, Megumi. I love it. Let’s go home now, we have to get groceries for dinner.”

Megumi nods before saying bye to his teacher. You allowed him to talk your ear off as you got ingredients for dinner. You were in a good mood, indulging him as he talked about what he did in school. Coming to their home, you got to work with dinner while Megumi did his homework on the living room table. Once Toji’s home, dinner was ready and Megumi put his school bag away, leaving out his drawing. After eating and cleaning up, you finish washing the dishes when Toji comes into the kitchen looking at the paper in his hand. It was Megumi’s drawing from school.

“Megumi drew this, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah, he drew it during school. He showed it to me when he picked it up. It’s pretty sweet of him. He was so excited to show me.”

Drying your hands on the towel nearby, the kitchen became awfully silent. You turned to Toji and see him still looking down at Megumi’s drawing. Yet, his hand started crippling the paper. Sensing his change in mood, you went up to him to see if everything was okay. You placed a comforting hand on his arm but he jolted his arm to move it off. Surprised by his action, you tried to meet his eyes. Once he did, they were filled with anger. He looks back and forth between you and his son’s drawing. It looked as if he wanted to say something but his clenched teeth prevented anything from coming out. He lets go of the drawing, letting it fall on the ground before turning on his heels to go into his bedroom.

“I need to calm down, (Y/N)...I had a rough day… Just give me space and don’t come into my room.”

You would've protested, but he was fast and left the kitchen instantly. You slowly kneeled to look at Megumi’s picture, a pain throbbed inside your heart when you saw how much the paper was crumpled by Toji’s death grip. Your pain continues with a mix of worry as Megumi’s drawing of you with the title of ‘Mama’ above was creased the most. You calmed yourself down by taking a deep breath, unconsciously holding the picture close. You made sure the kitchen was clean before going into Megumi’s room. The moonlight peaking through the blinds of his window, you can see he was knocked out cold. Placing his drawing on his night stand, you pet his hair before kissing his forehead goodnight and closing his door gently. You went to Toji’s room, knocking on it to make your presence known. When you didn’t hear anything, you let out a sigh before telling him you were leaving with a goodnight following afterwards.

Once you closed their apartment door and sat in your car, a sinking feeling began to creep into your stomach. Though not painful, it wasn't going away no matter how hard you tried to calm down. Not understanding why you felt the sudden rush of anxiety. You didn’t know it back then but perhaps it was your gut feeling warning you something bad would happen. But you would have never thought it was be the downfall of your relationship with Toji.

That’s when the arguments started happening. Well, they weren’t arguments if Toji was the only one yelling. You tried diffusing the situation while not getting emotional yourself. All for the sake of not disturbing Megumi. You tried your best to calm him down, asking what made him feel this way. That he can talk about anything that’s bothering him and you can help him.

But how can Toji say what’s bothering him when it’s you.

Nonetheless, you already knew it had to do something with you. Even if it wasn’t spoken out loud, the strain between you and Toji involved you in some way shape or form. But to know it was because of people around you two, specifically Megumi, seeing your dynamic in the relationship. You couldn’t help but feel hurt knowing Toji was rejecting you, let alone being mad at you for being involved in his and Megumi’s life.

Out of respect for Toji, you would correct anyone and everyone when they see you in public with Megumi. Especially when Toji is with you two. Unfortunately, some of the ‘arguments’ happen because someone commented how you cared for Megumi or the cute little family you three are.

While you would've been content with the compliment, you knew you had to shut it down because you weren’t Megumi’s biological real mother, nor Toji’s wife. Saying you were a close friend rather than girlfriend since it didn’t feel right either. You even corrected Megumi’s school teacher too.

“Actually, I’m not Megumi’s biological mother. I’m just a friend of his father that helps out. That’s all.” As you left with Megumi, his teacher felt confused and melancholic by your answer. To her, you were his mother from the way he talks about you in class.

You begin to correct Megumi whenever he tries to call you Mama. It didn’t matter where it was, you tried making it a habit for Megumi to just call you by your name. At first, Megumi followed along with it. But as time went on, there were slip ups. To a point Megumi didn’t want to refer to you as (Y/N), he wanted to call you Mama. You’ve now understood why Megumi calls you Mama because you acted like one. The only one he’s ever known. The aching pain you felt when you forced yourself to correct him grew. For a child not of your blood to call you his mother, it's an honor and blessing. However, you don’t think Toji would agree.

You had a feeling there was something else you were unaware of that’s got him like this. And it wouldn’t be until your recent ‘argument’ with him is when everything clicked. While carrying the laundry basket of freshly folded towels, you accidentally bumped into one of the photos and knocked it to the floor. The glass covering shattered and pieces of it fell out. It wasn’t a loud smash but loud enough for Toji to come and see you trying to clean up the pieces.

“What are you doing, (Y/N)?”

You flinched at how dangerously low his voice sounded, teetering on frustration. Still kneeling on the floor, you slowly look up and see Toji towering over you. You could never forget how huge and daunting he appeared, or his eyes as he looked down at you.

“I accidentally knocked the picture frame over and it broke. I’ll clean it up, Toji. I promise–”

“No…Let me do it…”

“But Toji, I was the one who made the mess. At least let me–”

“I SAID LET ME DEAL WITH IT, (Y/N)! JUST FINISH PUTTING AWAY THE LAUNDRY AND THE DAMN TOWELS IN THE BATHROOM!!!”

That was the loudest you’ve heard Toji yelled, louder than he spoke to you before. Scrambling to your feet, you grabbed the laundry basket and scurried away into the hall. Though you looked over your shoulder for a split second, you saw Toji crouching down to pick up the broken frame. Then, you caught the glimpse of which photo you accidentally broke. It was a solo picture of his late wife, smiling brightly in a field of sunflowers. The truth began to resurface no matter how much you tried to suppress it. Biting your inner bottom lip to not let a single whimper escape, your eyes glazing over with tears. As you walked further away, you didn’t miss the sniffle from the other direction. Or how Toji didn’t ask if you were okay or hurt when he came to check it out.

As you busy yourself with your chore, everything started to fall into place.

His lingering eyes whenever he saw a small family together or a mother with her baby. The way his gaze had a hard time tearing themselves away from a married couple enjoying their day together. His eyes were full of frustrated longing and desperate yearning. You never dwelled on it thinking he zoned out. Now, your memories become crystal clear that he always had sad eyes. You noticed because he had them when Megumi took his first steps towards you. Smiling and giggling as you coaxed him to continue walking until you caught him in your arms. You were so happy, proud of this milestone of Megumi’s. Then looking over at Toji, you saw his smile but his eyes told a different story as he replayed the video he recorded on his phone.

They were always there, right in front of you for the past three years.

Then came the distancing, his spontaneous rage, lack of intimacy, and the prevalent resistance in allowing Megumi to accept you as his mother.

Now you know, after piecing everything together…

Toji’s longing was wishing his beloved was there with him. It should be her playing and caring for Megumi, not you. It should’ve been her with him and his son, their complete family. But she was gone and you were here instead.

It all went back to her. His late wife and Megumi’s mother…

You didn’t know when it started but you knew your exact feelings when it did. Every time you look at her in the multitude of photos around the apartment, a wave of bitterness and jealousy envelopes your heart like a suffocating hug.

With it came resentment. Then hate, hatred towards her, his wife and only love. Oh how you wished you were Megumi’s mom instead of her. Longing to be her in order for Toji to love you. So you can be loved by him…

That’s when you caught yourself and the fresh thought that left your mind. Once you grasped that thought of yours and the feelings behind it, you were mortified with yourself. How could you ever think like that about someone? Someone who’s life was cut too short and unfairly when it was just getting started? Towards the deceased wife of the man you love and mother of the boy you grew to love as your son?

‘What’s wrong with me…WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME!?!?’

Never in your life have you felt disgust for yourself until now. Ashamed of how you allowed these deprave emotions to fester from within for so long. This was beyond unhealthy, almost demented to feel towards someone you have never met before. Not only was this detrimental to your relationship with Toji and Megumi, it was detrimental to yourself to harbor feelings that would eventually corrupt you.

But another thought popped up in your head, a realization that completely shatters your heart.

There were barely any photos of you with Toji and Megumi. Let alone any pictures of you around their home, no traces of you. It was like pouring salt in a gaping fresh wound. That’s when you knew Toji didn’t love you. Nor was he ready to love again. The distance he kept no matter how much you gave yourself to him, helped him, or opened up to him. The walls you tried so desperately to break stood tall and thick, your hands bleeding the more you clawed at it. Your attempts weren't taking you anywhere.

No matter what you did, Toji always kept you at a distance. That after five years of being with him and Megumi, nothing has changed or is willing to.

For it to take three years to have this realization, you bitterly laughed at yourself for staying so wistfully blind to the writings on the wall.

The situation was complicated. This was complicated. You don’t blame Toji for mourning the loss of his first and only love. But it had been almost five years since then. You understand everyone mourns differently and in their own way. Grief never truly goes away, you only learn to coexist with it. But Toji’s grief cuts deep and runs long, making his yearning for his late wife strong. Stronger than what he has with you. To his credit, however, Toji doesn’t hate nor is meant to be hostile toward you. In fact, he deeply cares about you. Yet, he fears by letting you in like he did with his first wife meant he would be replacing her. To forget her and what they had together, moving on from her. Toji was a man with very few fears, but this was one of them and it terrified him to no end.

And yet, here he was. Self-sabotaging himself because of longing, fear, and grief.

Toji knew the reason why your relationship is at its current stage is because it was his fault. He knew he was pushing you away, keeping you afar but within reach. This was all his doing, and yet he can’t bring himself to fix it. No action, no fight, no attempts of saving what will become of your relationship.

It is selfish of you. You never made it your mission to replace Toji’s first wife and the mother of Megumi in their lives. But you wished Toji would give himself a chance to love you as you already did for him. In the end, you couldn’t force Toji into something he wasn’t ready for which pains you immensely.

You couldn’t stay with him, continue being with Toji. Not when this is what you and Toji’s relationship has become. Unlike any sane person, you were reluctant to leave because it meant leaving Megumi behind. You have grown so attached to him, treating him so fondly and tenderly. Of course you did! You watched this kid grow up for the past five years! You remember when Megumi was a baby with no teeth, now he’s a growing toddler who can speak full sentences. Megumi was in a fraction of your life, but you were there for all of his. Then the thought of you, the only mother figure he’s known his entire life, to suddenly leave and never return made your soul howl in agony and anguish. Megumi shouldn’t be caught up in this but he was right in the middle.

You soon left once you were done, your heart bearing an excruciating weight with each passing minute. This wasn’t good for you, neither is it for Toji or Megumi. So you had to make a decision, a devastating one that would befall on everyone involved. But it was the only way to not hurt yourself and put you through hell anymore. As you drive home, you recall a crucial conversation with your best friend. The memory grows stronger as you deal with this relationship.

‘‘WHAT?!? Excuse me, (Y/N). But can you please run it back for me one more time?’’

You were having a hangout with (Best Friend’s Name). Due to lack of align schedules, you haven’t been able to physically fill her in on your personal life. Though when an availability arised, you didn’t expect the hangout to go this route. Then again, it shouldn’t be a surprise to you.

‘‘Okay, okay, okay. Let me get this straight, (Y/N). After almost five years of being together, Toji still hasn’t moved on from his late wife? Doesn’t want Megumi refer to you as his mom even though his own dad doesn’t say anything about the kid’s own biological mother to him? Then blows up on you for the smallest things even though you’re genuinely trying to help?’’

Your silence was everything she needed for an answer. A sigh was evoked from her as she took a deep sip of her espresso latte.

‘‘(Y/N), I love you to hell and back but you need to get out of this relationship. I haven’t met Toji myself so I can’t jump to conclusions. However, I do know his hurting is becoming yours. It’s seeping into you, (Y/N). You’re only trying to be by his side, nothing more and nothing less. But this isn’t good for you, (Y/N). Both for your physical and mental health. I can tell that you are stressed by how tense your posture is, and I know you long enough to know you’re not so rigid.’’

You sat there stunned, was it that noticeable? (Bsf/n)’s eyes look at you through her cup, unchanging by your shocked expression. She inhales deeply, feeling the gravity of the situation before you did.

‘‘I…just didn’t even notice, (Bsf/N).’’

‘‘Well you should. As your best friend and sister by bond, I’m just looking out for you. Meaning, you deserve better, (Y/N). This is unhealthy and you know it yourself. You deserve someone who will love you for you, not hold you to a standard of their previous lovers. Someone who values what they have together with you, not endlessly yearning for something of the past.’’

‘‘(Bsf/N), please—’’

‘‘(Y/N), I’m being serious. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not shitting on Toji for grieving over his losses. But if he’s not willing to accept your help and presence, then he never will, no matter how much you wait. If Toji is stuck in the past and can’t be here in the present with you and his OWN son, he’s going to stay in the past. It sucks that you are suffering from this when you did nothing wrong… And Megumi… Fuck, (Y/N). He’s suffering too, this isn’t going to be easy if you fall through with it. But I need you to know that your health is your top priority and I will have your back one hundred percent. If you even needed, you could live with me. I’m just a call away, (Y/N). Remember that, please.’’

Megumi knew something was off when he saw you two were waiting for him. The gap between you two that was once miniscule has become wide and spacious. Other’s assumed it was to make room for Megumi himself. But the kid knew something was amiss when your smile was paired with dimmed eyes, sad eyes. He’s never seen eyes like that before, and frankly, it was scaring him.

Megumi is intelligent for his age, too intelligent for his liking. He knows that his dad has changed around you within the past few years. Honestly, he hated it because he saw more frequently you were lost in thought. Absentmindedly doing chores but your body devoid of your loving aura.

Unfortunately, this was causing the young boy to become frustrated with his father. Especially when he hears Toji’s yelling at night, the walls muffling the true volume of Toji’s voice. Knowing you were the one it was being directed towards. It got worse when Toji told him you weren’t his mom.

Wasn't his mom? Who was then? The smiling lady in the numerous photos around the apartment? “Okay, yeah sure, Dad,” Megumi thought.

He knows of the woman in the photos, but Megumi doesn’t know her. He doesn’t believe that’s his mama when you have taken care of him his entire life. Genetically, he doesn’t have anything from you. But you treated him like the moms of his classmates. Therefore, you were a mom, his mom.

He doesn’t like the fact his dad is denying it, seeing how it’s starting to take its toll on you. But the poor boy didn’t know how much damage had already been done. For that reason, his gut feeling told him to hold you close for dear life. He couldn’t explain it as his vernacular being limited for his age.

So he breaks out in a sprint towards you, not his dad. You blinked a few times before looking down at Megumi hugging your knees tightly. You and Toji gave each other a look before you crouched down to be at Megumi’s level.

“Megumi, what’s wrong?”

He shakes his head as you rub his back softly to coax him into saying something. He was not budging and you gave Toji a concerned look. Toji sighs before proceeding to pick up Megumi.

“Come on, kid. Time to go home.”

But as soon as Toji’s hands were a few millimeters away from his son’s body, they were immediately smacked away. He stares with wide eyes at what just happened. Megumi didn’t care as he clung to your neck for dear life. Knowing Megumi was going to throw a tantrum, you and Toji decided it would be best for you to hold him.

On the walk home, Megumi’s answers were curt. A simple yes or no. You ruled it as him being cranking with a needed nap. Once home, you put Megumi down but he was glued to your bottom clothing for dear life. He never left you alone for a second. If you went to the bathroom, he’ll simply wait outside the door for you. Megumi also didn’t spare Toji one glance or spoke to him at all. It lasted up to dinner too. Megumi only answered and spoke to you only. If Toji did ask him something, he gave a plain answer.

Toji thought Megumi had a bad day so he let it slide. After putting in Megumi for the night, Toji sat at the table reading the newspaper while you washed the dishes. Tension wasn’t thick but it was there. Present enough that a rug couldn’t hide it. The both of you knew what the tension was about, it was who will be the one to bring it up first. The standoff lasted a few minutes when the first voice spoke, your voice.

“I don’t think we can continue on like this, Toji…”

Your words falling like dominos, setting off the inevitable confrontation.

“I can’t…I can’t have this relationship with you anymore, Toji.”

Although the man in question knew this was bound to happen, it didn’t stop him feeling a pinch of fear and guilt once it came.

“(Y/N), don't be like that. We can work this out–”

“Can we, Toji? Because every time we did, it always ended in an argument. The ones where you’re the only one yelling while I just take it…”

Once mentioned, Toji’s shame slowly took over his body. He was aware he always yelled at you, putting you through pain when you don’t deserve it. You never deserve any of it really. But Toji couldn’t bring it to him to apologize and make it up to you. Was it because he knew you would forgive him every time? Or was it because you allowed it to happen for the sake of keeping him and Megumi happy? He took you for granted, now he was facing the brute force of his consequences.

“Toji,” You paused before sighing. “I’ve been with you for five years yet our relationship hasn’t changed. I don’t know what I’m even to you… This has been the most confused and lonely I’ve felt. I know you stopped loving me, Toji…If you even loved me at all.”

Toji grunts and clears his throat, placing his paper down before looking at you.

“(Y/N), it’s not like that.”

“Then what is, Toji? Tell me, be honest and open your heart to me just this once. Tell me, truthfully, what this is to you? What am I to you?”

“I care about you, (Y/N). I like you a lot. I really do”

There, that was it for you. The nail in the coffin. This wasn’t the last straw that broke the camel’s back, but it confirmed everything that was already there. All telling of how Toji felt and saw you. You didn’t let it surface but you would have winced at the last part of his answer. ‘Like’, he’s always said that. Not once has an “I love you, (Y/N)” has left Toji for the past five years. Now knowing it will never come. It was decided from the start.

“Then I guess this is it for us, Toji.”

Before Toji could ask you what you meant, a muffled crying could be heard from Megumi’s room. You inhaled deeply and exhaled some of the weight off your chest before hanging the drying rag by the sink. You look at Toji with somber eyes before heading off to his son’s room.

“We’ll finish this in the morning, Toji.”

You peaked your head into Megumi’s room seeing the boy sniffle as he closely clutched his stuffed dog you got him. You closed the door softly and kneeled down by Megumi’s bedside. Making your presence known, Megumi looked up and jumped into your arms. You hugged him close, patting his back.

“I wanna sleep with Mama.”

Your breath hitched at the word. You loved when Megumi called you mama, but you weren’t her.

“You wanna sleep with Papa instead of (Y/N), Megumi—?”

“No! I wanna sleep with Mama!”

While you were a bit blown away by the kid’s declaration, you honored it as it would be the last time you get to hold him like this.

“Okay, I’ll sleep with you, Megumi.”

You set up a spare futon from Megumi’s closet and placed it on the floor. Tucking both of you in, you kissed his forehead as you held him close.

“Goodnight Megumi…I love you…”

“G’night, Mama…I love you too…”

Toji finds the two of you asleep. He could go sleep in his own bed but decided not to. Not tonight, at least, because he didn’t want to be alone. You stopped sleeping in his bed a year ago but Toji still didn’t get used to your absence in his bed. Even if he was the reason why you stopped.

He joins the two of you on the floor. Megumi on your right as you lay on your side, back turned towards the empty space Toji decided to occupy. His fingers and arm itched to pull you close, to hold you tightly against his chest. While battling his temptation, an image flashed in Toji’s mind. It was fast but Toji can make out what it was showing him.

Megumi was laying on your chest, snoozing away as you slept peacefully. Then the next image shows Toji with a gentle smile as he caresses your cheek then his hand moves to pat Megumi’s hair. Oddly enough, he didn’t hate his mind for conjuring up that imagination. He welcomed it earnestly.

He satisfied his itch by loosely draping his arm over your side. To him, this would suffice his need to be close, to be near you. To hold you in a somewhat intimate way before you disappear from his life.

For a kid his age, Megumi has impeccable social awareness and perception. But with that, he struggles to properly describe the situation with his limited vocabulary. It’s morning of the next day, and he notices you still hold the same eyes from yesterday. During the morning, he constantly asked if you were okay, if you needed something, checking up on you any way a child can. However, you replied you were just tired and under the weather, always sending Megumi a smile every time he asked. You didn’t want to worry the young boy for the truth will traumatize him and shatter his innocent reality.

Toji knows the evitable will happen as he hears Megumi be concerned for you. Even so, for you to not involve his son is something he’ll silently be grateful for. As Megumi plays on the floor by the coffee table, you and Toji finish off the conversation from last night.

“(Y/N), we’ve been together for five years. You can’t simply throw it away.”

“Five years doesn’t mean anything, Toji, if the relationship doesn’t change or grow. Also, how can you say that I am throwing all of this away when it became one-sided for half of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was like that from the start.”

Toji’s eyes closed in on you as you stood your ground. You were leaning on the counter while he was sitting at the table. You looked at him exhausted and defeated. How come Toji is so adamant on keeping this alive when he was the main reason you made your decision? Was it guilt? Loneliness? Manipulation? It could be all three but you didn’t have enough in you to question it.

“Fine then, I’ll admit I haven’t been treating you the best lately. I shouldn’t have exploded on you like the way I have for the past few months.”

“You have been doing it for almost a year, Toji. Not a few months.” You stoically corrected Toji.

Toji sighs once again, but it wasn’t out of frustration. Rather it was out of acknowledgement.

“Then I apologize for it. I knew what I was doing but I was stubborn to say sorry. But we can’t end like this, (Y/N).”

“No, Toji. That’s not how that works. Even your apologies won’t fix this. ”

“Then say it, (Y/N). Why are you breaking up with me after being together for five years—?” Toji says as he gets up and slowly walks towards you. Aware how he uses his size to intimidate and coax answers from people, you got used to his antics.

“Because Toji, you’re not ready. Even after me being by your side and through everything, you are still not ready to be in a serious committed relationship.”

Toji raises an eyebrow and squints his eyes at you. His action doesn’t phase you, as you stare back with unshaken eyes.

“What makes you say that, (Y/N)? How are you so sure about me not being ready–.”

“Then tell me, Toji Zen’in, you love me. I have been saying I love you to you since the second year out of the five. I know I loved you, Toji, and no one else. If you say it back to me and truly mean it, then I will get down on my knees and formally apologize for my assumptions and accusations towards you.” You spoke unwavering and firm, no sign of tremble or stutter as your eyes held the same expression.

Like a deer in headlights, Toji stood frozen with wide eyes. He was caught off guard by your statement. To say he loves you wasn’t such a hard statement but it held so much significance. The last time he said those words with utmost conviction was towards his late wife. Now he had to say those words in order for you to stay. Toji deeply cares and looks out for you in ways you aren’t aware of. But for you two to have this conversation meant he wasn’t fulfilling his role and promises to you. He let his fear of love and vulnerability hold him back in your relationship and you suffered from it. His throat snapped shut when he tried to fill the air with words to buy himself time. Toji’s mouth was open but nothing came out, not the fabled three words to make you stay.

Seeing his mouth open but devoid of an answer, the door you kept open for so long now quietly shuts itself. Locking out whoever it was available for, purposefully locking Toji…and Megumi…out of your life. With a crestfallen smile, the stare you held softened as you shook your head.

“I’ll see myself out then, Zen’in-san. It’s unfortunate what we have had to end like this. But do know I don’t regret this or my love for you and Megumi.”

Megumi is standing by Toji as you say goodbye. You hugged Megumi tight, soaking in the warmth of the kind child one last time before you walked out of his life forever.

“Megumi, promise me you will be a good and kind boy, listening to your papa?”

Megumi nods while being pressed to your shoulder.

“I have to go, Megumi… I love you…”

Megumi breaks away to look up at you, staring into your eyes. There was a slight warmth to them making him break into a small smile.

“I love you too, Mama…”

You smile warmly to him one last time, memorizing him so he wouldn’t fade from your memories. You kissed his forehead before entering your car and driving off. Toji didn’t get angry at what you said to Megumi. Nor did he when Megumi referred to you as mama. He was feeling too downhearted at your departure, his son waving at your fading car in the distance. Unknowingly that would be the last time Megumi would ever see you.

Megumi waited for you the next day, asking for you. Toji thought he could avoid giving Megumi the truth but he caved in when he started to miss your presence.

“She’s gone, Megumi…(Y/N) won't be here anymore…Mama’s not coming back to us anymore…”

Then a loud sob escaped the child, his voice shrill and full of heartbreak. Megumi’s tears were endless and no amount of comfort from Toji could calm him down. Toji can hear his son cry out your name and ‘Mama’ during breaks from his wailing. Megumi’s wailing only stopped because he completely cried himself to exhaustion. Even when Toji tucks him into bed, Megumi’s whimpers for you in his sleep. Toji closes his eyes as he sits at the kitchen table alone and cold. His face in his hands as his reality comes crashing down on him. He should’ve fought you to stay, fought to keep the relationship, to make it up to you so you wouldn’t leave them. To leave him alone with his son.

Fully dawning on him that he misses you, your smile, your laugh, the sound of your voice, your kindness and compassion. He laughs at how ironic the situation is. He has the audacity to take you for granted after everything you’ve done for him and Megumi. Took your love and loyalty for granted after being with him for five years. Then now you rightfully leave and he gets all depressed and heart-broken even though it’s all his fault. Toji lets his tears freely fall from his face as he lost another person in his life. But why does your departure leave a huge hole in his heart? More gut-wrenching and devastating than of his late wife’s passing?

He ponders on it as he sits with his lonesome pathetic self. Not realizing the spot he sat in was your designated seat at the kitchen table.

This wasn't easier on you either. As you drove away, your eyes kept flickering between the road and the rearview mirror. Forcing yourself to catch Megumi’s wave as he and Toji become specks in the background. The drive wasn’t long but it felt like an eternity getting to your place. Becoming agonizingly slow due to sensing your breaking composure and the dam of tears cracking as the minutes past. Parking in front of your place, you let everything loose. You didn’t stop the rush of tears nor held in your sobs any longer. You cried your heart out inside your car, not finding enough energy to do it in the confines of your apartment. You didn’t care how crazy and pitiful you looked to any passersby. You needed this out of your system because the pressure of your emotions became too much. After a good 30 minute crying session, you take a deep breath while sitting in the car.

You fished for your phone and dialed a phone number, wiping your tears away with a sniffle. The phone rings three times before the call goes through.

“(Y/N)? Is everything okay?”

“(Bsf/N)…Remember what you said a while back? I hope you can honor it…Because now’s a good time for it…”

“Hold on, (Y/N)…I’m coming over. Give me seven minutes, hang in there for me.”

The call ends as you stare up at your sunroof, seeing blue hues of the sky bleeding into orange. You laid back into your seat. Focusing on your breathing as your arm draped over your eyes. Your body ached and stung everywhere. Though you were done crying, your heart was in a million pieces and lost all of its warmth. You mumbled out something as you waited.

“I’m so sorry, Megumi…Mama is so sorry…”

A week later, Toji goes to your apartment complex to attempt any possibility of trying again. He walks up to your door and knocks. Around this time, you would usually be home and decompressing from the day. He didn’t see your car but it’s probably getting an oil change. You did talk about getting one soon in the upcoming weeks. He would have knocked again if it wasn’t for one of the neighboring tenants.

“Hi, um, sorry to bother you, sir. Are you friends with (Y/N)?”

Toji’s fist froze mid knock as he turned to the young woman who addressed him.

“I am, actually. I just needed to talk to her.”

“Oh, I see. Excuse me for intruding but unfortunately (Y/N) doesn’t live here anymore.”

Toji’s breath got caught in his chest along with his heart to a standstill. The only thing Toji could feel was the light breeze that passed by. He slowly pivoted his body to face the tenant, looking at her with a strained expression.

“I’m sorry. What do you mean she doesn’t live here anymore?”

“Some time last week, she sold her space and moved out. All within a day too. No one knew she was leaving, but it didn’t look like she was rushing to leave. I ran into her actually after she turned in her keys. I asked her why she was moving. Her answer was she found a place for a good deal and it was closer to her work so she took it. It’s a shame, she was a really good neighbor too. Everyone in the complex loved her.”

Toji felt his blood freeze over and his hand became clammy. Last week was when you broke up with him but he didn’t know about this. You never mentioned moving or finding a new place when together. He mentally curses himself at how fast you were slipping away.

“Thank you for the information, Miss. Did she mention where she was moving by any chance?”

The woman thought about it but shook her head.

“Sorry, but she didn’t say where. I would assume the heart of the city but that’s me guessing. Sorry that this isn’t much.”

“No, it's fine. Thank you for your help, I appreciate it. I’ll leave now so I’m not trespassing here.”

Toji goes to leave but the tenant remembers something.

“Wait! Excuse me again, but I just remembered something else. When I was talking to her last week, I couldn’t help but notice her usual smile doesn’t reach her eyes. Her eyes felt sad like they lost some sort of warmth to them. I didn’t want to be rude but I can tell she was dealing with something painful. If you manage to run into her, please make sure she’s alright.”

Toji’s heart starts to bleed at her observation. He really fucked up, didn’t he? So bad that people are starting to notice it. He could’ve had a good life with you and his son, he looks back on it now. He could have had it all but he self-sabotage himself, ruined everything for him, for you, and even for his son who his late wife asked to take care of as her dying wish.

After thanking the tenant, Toji books it to the heart of Tokyo. He tried calling you but an automated voice told him the number he dialed was currently out of service. You changed your phone number too? He searches through the crowds, hoping to find you in the raging sea of people. Any sign of you, just anything for him to know you were here. But you were gone without trace, just as he did with you in his apartment. With no chance of seeing you in sight, Toji curses himself once again at his undeserving nature and carelessness. He goes back home defeated, wondering what life will be like now without you in it.

Looking out the window, your eyes wandered to the busy streets below. Your mind is wondering about what Toji and Megumi are up to. It was a painful relationship, no doubt about it. But you couldn’t deny the warm memories with Megumi or how Toji treated you early on. Though they can’t be with you anymore, you could never forget those two no matter how much time passes.

You desired for things to have gone differently and worked out in the end. Unfortunately, you can’t change what has already happened.

This was your new life.

You wish things didn’t turn out this way but life goes on, even without them in the picture.

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 17 days

Note

Hey :) Hope you're doing well, I read some of your Aemond fanfics, and they were great. I was hoping you could write a Jacaerys x Alicent daughter fanfic. Something about an arranged marriage, you can take it anyway you wish, but could there be some angst in there. with the prompts 1. ‘’My blood is not noble enough for a prince.’’ and 14. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’

Thank you :)

Request: Alicent’s second daughter to marry Jacaerys to unite the houses

Thank you for the compliment on my Aemond fics <3 More will be coming soon. Also, I was not able to use the first prompt as it doesn’t work with the characters. Alicent’s daughter’s blood is more noble than Jacaerys since her father is king and his mother is princess. I hope you still enjoy what I wrote for you <3

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Twenty years ago, when Viserys made Rhaenyra his heir, the knights and houses who swore allegiance to him had no choice but to accept her as their future queen. She was the king’s only child. But now that the king had a male heir — and a spare —, there were possibilities that people would oppose her claim to the throne and demand Aegon to wear the crown.

To prevent the situation from happening, the king and queen, along with Rhaenyra, made an accord that Rhaenyra would ascend the throne following the king’s death, but to unite the houses, the princess’s firstborn son — and heir — would marry Alicent’s second daughter and, one day, inherit the throne together.

Like any political marriage, you nor Jacaerys had a choice or say. At least he wasn’t an older lord you had met once or twice. You knew Jacaerys — a little. He was kind, loyal and protective. He was a good man.

Prior to that arrangement, your grandsire, Otto, had been talking to you about having a tourney to meet suitors, but your mother had been quick to oppose to the idea. She didn't want you to be the victim of his scheming like she had been at your age.

You were drawing under the weirwood tree when Jacaerys stepped into the yard, having just arrived in King’s Landing. Its red leaves matched the color of your dress, making him smile. He liked you in red.

‘’I was told by the servants that my wife was out here.’’

Immersed in your drawing, you didn’t hear the prince approaching. You only glanced up when you heard your new title, the sound of his voice almost making you drop your charcoal onto your dress. Your mother would have been furious.

A soft laugh left your lips. Moons have passed since the wedding, yet being called a wife still felt strange. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’

‘’Me either,’’ Jacaerys admitted. ‘’What are you drawing, Princess?’’

You reflected his smile as he approached. ‘’Just some birds.’’

Jacaerys walked up to the tree and sat beside you. He had a bit of dirt on his jacket from sparring with Ser Criston in the training yard.

‘’How was your training session with Ser Criston?’’ you asked, raising a hand to run through the front of his hair, fixing an unruly curl that was on the wrong side.

The older he got, the more he looked like Ser Harwin Strong. He had the same dark brown curls. But you would never dare saying that out loud. Although you meant it as a compliment, the mere insinuation of his illegitimacy was a vile insult to the crown — to the princess.

‘’I disarmed him twice…and I ate some dirt.’’ The brunet grimaced, the earthy taste still lingering on his tongue. ‘’It was a blessing that no one was watching.’’

‘’Mayhaps you need an opponent that is closest to your age?’’ you suggested, not finding it fair that he was sparring against a grown man who had years of practice as a knight. ‘’You could ask Aemond to train with you? He is training for the upcoming tourney, but I’m sure he would a accept to help you.’’

Jacaerys hummed, then leaned back against the weirwood tree, taking a moment of rest. He watched with quiet admiration as you continued your drawing, fascinated by the way you could, with a few strokes of charcoal, illustrate pretty much anything. Birds, flowers, dragons, or portraits of your family.

Much like your twin brother, you favored solitude over socializing. When the betrothal was announced to you, you assumed that this tranquility would be disrupted, but it turned out that Jacaerys enjoyed it too. Partially. While he often thrived on the excitement and duty that came with his heir title, he found it relieving that he could find peace and comfort in your silent company.

‘’I’m going back to Dragonstone in the morrow,’’ the prince announced, breaking the serenity of the quiet.

‘’How long for?’’

Jacaerys shifted, fearing the conversation that was to come. ‘’No. I’m going back to Dragonstone…permanently.’’

You stopped drawing, a sudden knot forming in your stomach. ‘’And what of me?’’

‘’You can join. Or not. That is up to you.’’

‘’And what of us? What of our marriage, Jace?’’ you asked, turning your head toward him.

When you got wed in the tradition of Old Valyria, you pledged to one another that you were one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Jacaerys returning to Dragonstone would break your duties to your House.

‘’Dragonstone is easy to travel from and back on dragonback.’’ You began picking at your fingers, and Jacaerys noticed, taking your hand in his to stop you. ‘’I tried, but King’s Landing is not my home. I don’t belong here.’’

‘’I can’t leave my family.’’

‘’I left mine for you.’’

You pulled your hand from his hold and narrowed your eyes at him. Jacaerys moving to King’s Landing after the wedding ceremony was your father’s idea, not yours. How dared he blame you for a decision you didn't make?

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen@naty-1001@katiepie67@moshpot24x@hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler@saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag@wondxrgurl@aerangi@strmborns@astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection

All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity Anouk nani-2305 @books0fever

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd #jacaerys hotd

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savannahsdeath · 6 months

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hi Savannah!!! was thinking abt this idea for a while and thought that your amazing writing would so do it justice. maybe popular Ellie! x loser-ish s/o and they’re going to prom together. readers parents or Joel (whoever’s house they’re at) could be taking pictures and commenting on how cute they look together. after they end up going to prom and they’re so happy and cute with each other. maybe some angst where like someone’s makes fun of readers dress or something. they could be like jealous of reader since she’s kind of a loser and Ellie’s more on the popular side, idk. do whatever u want. bye!!!

POPULAR!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

warnings: none i think ?? just reader having a mean fake friend;(((

writers note: omg anon i love u !! you and your idea !! i had to stand up and start pacing around my room writing it cus ohmygod .

your dress hugged your figure, the fabric stretching with every movement, clinging to your curves. it shimmered as you walked, catching the light as a slight glimmer. it draped down to just above your ankles, a slit on the side accentuating your legs. you stood in front of a full-body mirror, trying to decide if you should keep your hair down or...

"come on, babe!" ellie shouted from the hallway, quickly making her way to you. "you ready?" she gave you a hug from behind, loosely wrapping her arms around your waist. you stared at her reflection. she, obviously, wasn't wearing a dress but a white, formal shirt decorated by a messily tied tie, probably stolen from joel. and somehow, she still looked so attractive.

she spun you around, pressing her lips to yours with a light hum. "i hate these little school parties." she admitted, still standing suspiciously close to you. "but at least i get to see you in pretty dresses."

you smiled, fixing her tie before tugging on it and turning around to walk away. she followed you everywhere like a puppy, tangling your fingers together anytime she had the chance to.

"i'd rather stay home." you agreed with a slight shrug.

she filled her glass with water, not letting go of your hand as she drank. "and what would we do?"

as she finished, you took the glass out of her hand and put it in the dishwasher, knowing she wouldn't do it herself. "i'm sure we'd come up with something."

you heard someone clearing their throat, making you slightly jump. it was joel, standing in the doorway, scanning both of you with his firm gaze.

"what do you think?" ellie proudly wrapped her hand around your waist, bringing you as close as possible.

he nodded with a barely noticeable smile. "she looks like a millionaire's wife." he pointed at you with his chin.

you looked down, trying to hide your flushed face.

"well, of course." ellie huffed, her hand stroking your side. "and i'm the millionaire."

"hell no." he immediately shook his head. "you're just a random homeless man." you giggled and she immediately gave you a disappointed look, as if to judge you for finding joel's taunting funny.

"homeless men have good style." she rolled her eyes, before adding a; "sometimes", and slowly guiding you to the living room.

"hey, kiddo, you know i'm kidding." joel's smile widened. "you both look great."

she mumbled a quiet; "whatever", though you could tell it reassured her, so you turned to joel and mouthed a silent thanks to him, knowing ellie would be in a bad mood for the next few hours if he wouldn't take his silly insult back.

joel wouldn't let go so easily, trailing after you with his phone covered in the, typical dad's, flip case. he raised it, telling you to pose.

"joeel—" ellie whined. "we had a deal, no pics."

you laughed, playfully nudging her. joel frowned, still focusing his camera on you. "your girlfriend's parents would definitely want to see how you look." he insisted, but she persistently shook her head. he managed to stealthily take a few photos of you both, smirking as if he just did the most illegal cheat ever.

"how do you feel now, ellie?" he asked, shooting a video.

"what do you mean?" she frowned, though it wasn't visible on the camera, since she didn't bother to turn around.

"you know, you're growing up." he shrugged. "you probably want to move out."

she was propping herself against the countertop, suddenly stopping doodling something in her diary. "what did you just say?" she turned around, seeing joel catching her reaction on the camera.

he laughed and stopped recording, sharing a chuckle with you. "just kidding, just kidding, no need to stress. it's not like i'm kicking you out."

"yeah, i fucking hope so." she muttered, looking away with an annoyed expression.

joel huffed, though the amusement was still palpable in his tone. "language." he warned with a toothy smile.

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

"i'm not into girls, but jesus-" a voice from one of the bathroom cabins sighed. even though you couldn't tell who said it, you felt the admiration in the girl's voice.

you and ellie sat on the windowsill, listening to their conversation. overhearing wasn't fair, but how could you miss out on something like that? they were talking about your girlfriend, after all.

"and her girl—" someone added, but the previous girl mockingly laughed. "c'mon now. she's all right, but out of ellie's league." another mocking laugh. "and somehow, they're still together." "i dunno, maybe she's rich." rich? so people think ellie's with you because you pay her for affection? "i just don't believe in the good personality bullshit. and it definitely aren't the looks either." the voice continued.

you heard the sound of glasses hitting one another, as if raising a toast, though it was probably an accident. hiding in the bathroom to drink and talk shit, how mature.

"she's just as fine as ellie!" someone's annoyed voice rang out. "you're tasteless as fuck if you really believe what you're saying. now," another bang of bottles, "drink up." the voices took a break to down their glasses, before the argument continued. "okay, i admit, no one's better than williams, but still—" "no fucking way. m' not hearing you out!" another pause, way shorter this time. "oh, hey, sorry for talking like that about her. i forgot— you two are friends, aren't you?"

a third voice, one that stayed silent before, spoke up; "no, we're not." you quickly recognised the tone of your best friend, or at least a girl you thought is your best friend - layla. you opened your mouth to shout at her, but ellie brought you closer to her, gently covering your lips to keep you quiet. meanwhile, layla continued; "i don't know what ellie sees in her, either."

your eyes immediately watered up and your puffy lips trembled against your lover's hand. she pulled you closer to her, stroking your hair and planting little kisses on your forehead or nose. you sniffled, but the hiding girls didn't seem to hear it.

suddenly, one of them - the meanest one - started excitedly squealing; "look who texted me!! look, look!" you could see the dim light of phone screen from the gap above the floor. they packed their things, slowly spilling out of the cabin. and, well, when they finally noticed you and ellie, she had her lips persistently pressed against yours, making them freeze. she pulled away and stood up, giving them a nonchalant look. "hi, girls." she winked, extending her hand for you. you dragged her out of the bathroom, and when you were finally out of the girls' sight, you burst out laughing.

ellie smiled, though your sudden joy seemed weird to her, and her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "what?"

without answering, you continued tugging on her hand, letting go only when you were at the dance floor. you wrapped your hands around her neck as she placed hers on your waist, still surprised by your actions.

you rocked back and forth to whatever song was playing now, thinking of how to explain your reaction to ellie.

eventually, you just softly chuckled again. "i love you, els."

her frown disappeared, replaced by a look of pure affection she felt towards you. "i love you too."

she brought you closer to her by the grip she had on your hips, and your arms slowly withdraw, stopping when your hands reached her cheeks, cupping her face. you shared a long, slow, passionate, but most importantly - real kiss. you forgot about all the people surrounding you and focused on her tongue, which softly lapped against yours.

#reqs open #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #popular!ellie williams x reader #popular!ellie x reader #popular!ellie williams #popular!ellie #prom

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missglaskin · 2 years

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Yandere Aemond Targaryen with Wife!Darling would include:

Note: NSFW themes, implied forced marriage/relationship, some spoilers

It has often been argued that Aemond is a mirror of Daemon. Like his uncle, he’s arrogant, untamed, and reckless. He doesn’t flinch at the sight of violence and does not waiver in his pursuits. Still, there are good qualities found in Aemond; his loyalty. It’s seen in his interactions with his family, in how he supported his brother's claim, and in his eagerness to defend their honor.

His tendencies didn’t develop at the first meeting. You obviously caught his attention, and he gave you more glances than he should have. Nonetheless, his tendencies developed over time, and the more they did, the stronger his feelings became. In no time at all, you grew uneasy, as an intense eye watched your every move, and when you turned to the source, Aemond wouldn't even try to look away, simply staring back at you.

Aemond doesn’t bother hiding his interest, quite the contrary. In the course of any event, he would find an opportunity to converse with you, as he was coincidentally seated next to you. He inches so close to you so he can hear you 'clearly'. And you have to calm yourself when feeling his knees and shoulders touching yours.

The prince has intimated many of your potential suitors. Still, your family found a way. You'll never forget how Aemond knocked your fiance to the ground during the jousting. In your prayers, you hoped your fiance wouldn't be prideful and just surrender, but he continued to fight, holding his sword and, as expected, your fiance lost. As Aemond plunged a sword into his throat; his eye found yours. Adding insult to injury, Aemond then gifted you with a crown of winter roses, naming you as the queen of love and beauty.

Alicent expresses to Aemond her disapproval of the entire situation. It doesn't help that she thinks you've been encouraging her son's advances, as marrying Aemond will give your house a huge advantage. Alicent's reasoning, however, only enters one ear and exits the other. It’s not until she threatens to send you away that she finally gets a reaction from Aemond. For the first time, Alicent realizes how terrifying her son can be.

The dragon's blood is pulsing through Aemond. He is a man with a strong sense of possessiveness, so one can imagine how intense his jealousy can manifest. He makes it clear to everyone that you belong to him. To his mother, to your family, and to all the lords in the court. And most of all to you. But the irony of it all is how Aemond denies his jealousy. In admitting so, he’s admitting his insecurities. More so, jealousy means that he doesn’t have you.

His wild and untamed nature is reflected in his sexual appetite. You elicit his most strenuous and darkest emotions that Aemond has suppressed deep inside. Like any man, he lusted for pretty ladies, but the lust you bring him is potent. Regardless of what others think, he has tamed himself more times than he can count. If he were to have it his way, you’d have already been fucked with a bastard child along the way.

Despite the objections of his family, the prince will undoubtedly get his way, and soon enough, you are married to Aemond Targaryen. The prince's smile throughout the entire ceremony caught the court off guard. The reputation bestowed upon him was not reflected in his actions that day. But Aemond still showed his possessiveness to the court by refusing to let anyone else dance with you. His mother had to give him many warning glances as he couldn't keep his hands off of you and was getting a little risque.

As a married couple, it gives Aemond the opportunity to be as touchy without having to concern himself with the criticisms of others. His affection fuels the gossip around the court. He lets his desire be known in how your kisses are never brief and how his hand seems to be on your lower back all the time.

Aemond has no shame in how he gives into his urges. Your servants are expected to knock on your door regardless of the time of day because, as Aemond demonstrated, his hunger knows no bounds. Aemond was repeatedly discovered on his knees with his face between her legs. The two of you are just as loud. Even the most hardened walls aren't strong enough to block out all the noise. Aegon quips that you'd have to give birth to an army if his brother continues to give in to his urges.

As violent and possessive as he’s; Aemond isn’t as bad as other yanderes uhm his brother. He longs for you to cherish him and share his intense feelings. He desires your trust and wants you to see the best in him. And most of all, he wants you to understand his actions. Aemond won't have the wherewithal to harm you, no matter how angry you make him or how harshly you betray him.

Now and then, Aemond feels the urge to inquire of Alys about her visions for the future regarding the two of you. He has doubts when he considers the potential repercussions of asking her to look into the fire. Aemond understands everyone dies; it is a natural part of life, but he has trouble picturing yours. He is incapable of envisioning a set of circumstances in which you must live without him. Who will look out for you and keep you safe?

You'll have to say goodbye to your family with Aemond, sadly, because as your husband reminds you constantly, you are now a Targaryen. Alicent may not be too fond of you, but she’ll still address you as her ‘daughter’ and occasionally have you for a cup of tea. Helaena is more hospitable; in fact, she comes off as overjoyed and eager. You are also welcomed into the family by Aegon and Daeron, though they are a little more formal and aloof, more so, because they don’t want to trigger Aemond’s jealousy.

#aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #asoiaf x reader #yandere asoiaf #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #x reader #reader insert #aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #asoiaf #yandere #headcanons

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danytar · 11 days

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“Making him happy” [King!Aegon!Targaryen X Sister!Wife!Reader]

Warnings: Incest, cussing, expletives,+18,(f receiving), vulgarity, dark aegon, mention of fingering, mention of war and death.

Summary: Your husband feels very angry with your grandfather's neglect and you hate seeing his sour mood so as his queen and especially his wife you have to make him get better..

Aegon was sitting on the iron throne, watching you critically as you entered. Even though he needed his fleet, the thought of trusting a pirate disgusted him.

He didn't like the idea of trusting these sea vagabonds He was feeling weaker and weaker after the Greyjoys refused to ally with him against your half-sister. You hated seeing him like this he was angry most of the time and he still hasn't forgotten what happened to your precious son.

You were standing not far from his throne you could see him complaining and showing his frustration to his grandfather and his mother. you felt that you should keep your mouth shut for a time.

You do not rule out that he might insult you in his anger. you really tired of hearing his screams and his inconsiderate words, and you felt a strong desire to silence him. You know very well that aegon can easily shut up is he was with you.

When the court was finally empty, you saw him leaning back on his throne and holding his temples with his eyes closed.

You stood at a distance from his throne and spoke.. “You look upset what's wrong? ”.

He raised his head slightly and then looked at you with a stern look and his lips curled into a frown “Don't act like you dont know! I need a fleet! I need ships! ”.

“I know! Just calm down...please ”. You speak in a low tone and take a step towards his throne. You stop again and speak again “You do not have to ask for the support of the lords, like a beggar asking for alms”.

He stares at you with a slight smile on his lips as she speaks.

“Of course, you are right, my queen, as always. It is time we strike fear into the hearts of traitors. They must learn that they have to recognize me as king, as you said. But still, I need the support of a fleet, and the only way to do that is to rely on sea pirates, which I cannot accept without disgust”.

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him smiling at you again you're really missed his smile So you maintained eye contact with him and did not break it yet. “We will take what is our will fire and blood we may not have ships, but we do have dragons.. so. If you don't have ships... destroy enemy ships ”. you replied.

Aegon raised an eyebrow at your comment “Are you suggesting burning our half-sister's fleet?”

“Yes”

Aegon felt a wave of surprise, but he remained calm. At least your idea would take care of the pirate part.“Well, that's an interesting idea. But wouldn't that bring a reaction that we weren't ready for? I mean, the whore might just send her dragons as revenge”.

“She can't attack us in King's landing If she does she will have to burn innocent people along with us to take revenge and you know I don't think she's that stupid to do such a thing”.

Aegon nodded at your words. That made sense. If the black queen attacked him she would have to attack King's Landing along with them. And that meant bringing fire and blood to innocent people, which was something he didn't want either.

“You are right, she cannot attack me in King's Landing, that would be suicidal. Now that you remind me, that solves the pirate problem. We burn the ships, and as for the rest, we fight them by swords and blood”.

Aegon smiled more as he looked at you, happy to feel the satisfaction of finding a way through the problem of relying on pirates. This was not only a practical solution but also a solution that would satisfy him because it didn't involve relying on sea vagrants.

“We have found our solution. Now all we need to do is prepare the attack, coordinate the dragon strikes, and strike at the right moment. If we do that, it will be quick and effective. The victory will be ours”.

He was grateful to have an intelligent wife like you. you were a gift from the gods sent to him.The frown finally went away and was replaced by a small cocky smile.

He rose from his throne as he strutted his walk towards you he put his hands on your waist and lifted you up.

“Aegon! ” you chuckled.. “I feel dizzy”.

He chuckled as well then pressed his lips to yours It was a surprise kiss, but you welcomed it He slowly put you down but you wrapped your arms around his neck pressed your body against his own body. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he placed his hands on your buttocks to support you.

Aegon's hands moved slowly, tracing your curves and enjoying the feel of your soft skin. He lingered on each part of your body and savored every inch of you, letting himself feel the pleasure and heat radiating from her.

your lips remained joined, and he pressed his body against yours. His heart beat faster, and his hands moved lower on your body, exploring every inch of you. He wanted to feel your entire body against him, pressing himself against you as close as he could.

You felt like he lost his balance and started to back towards the Iron Throne. you chuckled on is lips as he He sat on his throne again while you were still clinging to him. Even his ruby crown lost its balance and fell off his head.

You looked at the crown as it rolled to the ground he grabbed your chin to bring your attention back to him and kissed you again This time, more passionate and hotter his tongue joined the kiss as well. You can't and moan in his mouth too.

Aegon moaned louder in response and kissed you back, using his tongue to explore your mouth in the same way. your tongues danced together, and the passion grew higher.

your bodies pressed against each other, the heat of your bare skin causing a wave of tingling to sweep over your. His hands ran from your waist to your hip and then to lower, his fingers sliding beneath the fabric there.

“Ah- my love-

“ A good queen who know to please her husband ”. he whispered.. “how lucky I am”.. His tone and voice were full of lust and seduction.

Your cold fingers slid down to unbuckle his belt and invade his dangerous areas. Aegon groaned softly at the feeling of your cold fingers underneath his pants. your hand had a delicious effect, causing his body to shiver with pleasure.

His heartbeat grew even quicker, his breath grew heavier, and he felt that he was about to lose his control when you touched that spot. His lips became more active as he continued to explore your mouth, your tongues making their way while he felt your fingers below his pants. His kisses became more active and enthusiastic, and he felt his body twitching and trembling.

You pulled away from his embrace to kneel in front of his throne then you unziped his pants. He wanted to speak, but he quickly felt your mouth on him He felt a shiver in his body. So he closed his eyes and let you comfort him. He let out a loud groan of pleasure begun to sink back into the throne.

“Fuc-fuck- yes.. darling.. make y- your king.. happy ”. He groaned as his fingers tangling in your hair. It didn't take you long before he reached his climax. You both forgot that you were in the throne room and were vulnerable to interruption and intrusion at any moment.

but you both were the king and the queen of the seven kingdoms and you will do whatever you want even if it meant having sex on that pile of metal.

Soon you felt him cum inside your mouth you took everything he gave you graciously. When you finally pulled away from him, he opened his eyes and smiled widely at you.

His thumb wiped away the remaining liquid on the corner of your mouth. you chuckled softly so did he Then he pulled you into his lap again he unzipped your pants this time to put it inside you.

Of course he wasn't done with you yet...you were the one who wanted to play dirty...

– Taglist ♡ : @hisfavegiri @callsignwidow @xitsemm @saltytidalwavetyphoon @khaleesihel @credulouskhaleesi @lovelykhaleesiii

#house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #hotd #aegon headcanons #aegon the second #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon fanfic #hotd aegon #aegon x reader #aegon imagine #aegon x you #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen ii x you #tom glynn carney #tom glynn carney x reader #danytar

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wholoveseggs · 5 months

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Warmth - Part Three

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

This is just a smutty little thing about being in an arraigned marriage to a certain original vampire.

If you rather read this on Ao3- Link is here

{Part One} {Part Two}

Back in the vibrant streets of New Orleans, relishing in your newfound freedom. Life takes an unexpected turn as the shadows of your past life loom large, pulling you back into the life you just escaped. Yet, amidst the haunting echoes, you find strength in a partner who is ready to go to any lengths for you.

8k words (whoops) - Warnings: Smut, drama & Elijah being a wife guy.

Part Three

The blissful week of your honeymoon unfolded like a dream, each moment seemingly plucked from a fairy tale. The idyllic cottage, delicious food, and fantastic sex painted a picture of a life you never thought possible.

Now, back in New Orleans, a newfound sense of liberation coursed through you. This freedom allowed you to make choices without restraint, doing whatever pleased you without scrutiny.

You spent the day at the record shop, browsing for a particular album that was deeply sentimental to you. When you found it, you almost squealed with glee, leaving the shop with a huge grin on your face.

You decided to walk back to the compound, enjoying the sun on your bare skin. During your time with the human faction, modest dressing was mandatory, even in sweltering weather. Yet, when Rebekah presented the daring silk backless dress for your wedding, you dared to dream of a possible future with true freedom. Now, you were living it.

However, your happiness took a sudden hit when you crossed paths with some faction wives on the street. Their envious and disdainful looks made you feel self-conscious in your short leather skirt and knee-high boots.

"I thought you would be dead by now," one of them remarked with a sneer, scanning your outfit with disapproval.

"Is your husband just keeping you around as a snack?" another quipped, her words laced with sharp mockery.

"Actually, I just got back from my honeymoon," you replied, trying to politely leave the conversation.

Laughter erupted from the group as they exchanged incredulous looks. "Vampires don't procreate, darling. What's the point of all that?" one of them scoffed.

Your patience wore thin, and with a tight smile, you excused yourself. "Well, I have better things to do than…this. Enjoy your day."

As you walked away, their judgment lingered in the air, casting a shadow over your earlier joy. You knew they were victims just as much as you had been; they coped with their circumstances by making others feel as bad as them. With your head held high, you headed back to the compound, trying not to let them dampen your mood.

Klaus stormed up to you in a huff, his accusing gaze piercing through you as you entered through the main gate. "Where were you, and what did you do?" he demanded, suspicion heavy in his voice.

"Uhh, I went to the record store and bought a record?" You replied, a confused look on your face.

"There was an attack on a group of vampires, orchestrated by the human faction," Klaus stated, giving you an icy glare.

"I'm sorry to hear that," you said sincerely.

Klaus leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "Are you still involved with the humans? Are you a spy for them?"

"Niklaus," Elijah’s voice cut through the tension, he was standing on the balcony above, giving his brother a stern look. "There's no way she's a spy. She was abused by them, not collaborating with them."

Klaus crossed his arms, skepticism etched on his face. "Abuse could be a convenient cover, Elijah. We both know the lengths people go to achieve their goals."

You stepped forward, a hint of frustration in your voice. "I had a run-in with some of the faction wives. They insulted and questioned me, I'm not a spy."

Klaus raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "What did you talk about?"

"Just casual things," you replied with a forced nonchalance. "The honeymoon, mostly. They threw in some comments about vampires not being able to procreate. It was just a rather short and grating interaction."

Elijah descended the stairs and stood beside you, placing a protective hand on your waist. "When did this happen?" He asked gently.

"Like an hour ago," you replied, looking from Klaus to Elijah as they shared a silent exchange. "Do you think the attack has something to do with me?"

"Possibly," Klaus replied, pacing around with his usual dramatic flair. "The attack happened not long after your interaction with them."

Elijah's phone suddenly rang, and his expression turned dark when he answered it. Klaus was staring at him, clearly listening to the conversation you couldn't hear; his expression changed from serious to frighteningly amused.

When Elijah hung up, a heavy sigh escaped him, and he looked at Klaus with a deep furrow in his brow. "It seems we have been invited to a dinner party with your former faction," he said to you, bitterness lacing his tone.

"Why?" you asked, the word barely escaping your lips as a surge of anxiety tightened your throat.

"Apparently, renegotiations," Elijah replied with a hint of darkness in his tone, his gaze locking onto yours. He gently clasped your trembling hand, planting a reassuring kiss against it. "You will be fine," he assured you.

"I thought as much," Klaus said with a bitter laugh, "Looks like your little alliance isn't going as you planned, dear brother."

Elijah shot Klaus a disapproving glare. "I understand you've never approved of my methods, but everything I did was to avoid further bloodshed."

Klaus rolled his eyes, beginning to stroll away, leaving you both with a sardonic smile. "It appears my methods might be more fitting in this situation, unless you're willing to return her," Klaus uttered darkly, gesturing toward you.

Elijah’s grip on your waist tightened. "That's not an option."

"I know, brother, I know," Klaus laughed as he left the courtyard, clearly amused by the whole situation.

Despite Elijah's comforting words, irrational thoughts flooded your mind. Was Klaus right? Was this some cruel ploy to reclaim you, to drag you back into a life you had just escaped?

Elijah sensed your apprehension, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "I won't let anything happen to you," he vowed, his eyes filled with a protective intensity.

"You don’t know what they are like," you confessed nervously, your voice barely above a whisper. "What if they want to break the alliance? Take me back?"

Elijah's gaze held a steady determination. "They can break the alliance if they please, but that would be remarkably unwise of them," he replied, his tone unwavering. He tightened his embrace, as if shielding you from an impending storm. "You're not a pawn to be traded back and forth; they have no power to reclaim you."

Elijah's confidence gave you strength, calming the waves of anxiety that threatened to engulf you. He would protect you. No one could take you away from him.

A small smile curled his lips as he placed a soft kiss against your forehead. "This might actually be a blessing in disguise," he mused, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Perhaps a demonstration of their misguided arrogance is required."

"No," you said firmly, folding your arms across your chest.

"You would look so beautiful in it," Elijah protested, gesturing toward the garment bag draped over a chair.

"It's not really dinner party appropriate," you said with a shrug, not wanting to reveal the real reason behind your reluctance.

Elijah cocked his head, studying you intently. "Is this about the dress or something else?"

You hesitated, glancing away. "It's about everything. The attack, the faction wives, the fact that I'm about to dine with people who treated me like property."

"They have no power over you anymore," Elijah reminded you, gently taking your hand in his. "And where has your rebellious spirit flown off too all of a sudden?"

"I guess I just want to prove them wrong," you said, shrugging slightly. "I want them to see that I've won, that I'm happy. Wearing a dress that is far too risqué would undermine that."

"My dear," Elijah murmured, pulling you close and gently cupping your cheek, "They will never accept you as anything other than an object. No matter what you wear. That is not your burden to bear; it is theirs."

His words pierced through your self-doubt, filling you with a newfound sense of conviction. He was right; your only duty was to be yourself, not to try and live up to their impossible expectations.

"You’re right," you said, looking up at him as a devious smile spread across your lips. "But it will piss them off, and that could make negotiations more difficult."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," he replied with a smirk, his arms wrapping around your waist affectionately.

Your eyes narrowed, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "So, you want me to dress up to embarrass them?"

Elijah leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I want you to show them exactly who you are and how powerful you have become," he said softly, giving you an encouraging kiss on the cheek.

With a renewed sense of determination, you stepped towards the garment bag and fully unzipped it, taking out a breathtaking silk dress. It was black, with a daringly low back and a slit that would reveal almost all of your leg. It was the perfect mix of sophisticated and sexy, the kind of dress that the faction would completely disapprove of.

You smiled as you slipped on the dress, savoring the feeling of the cool silk against your skin. A thrill ran through you at the thought of what tonight might bring, a strange mix of anxiety and excitement.

Elijah looked at you, a combination of pride and admiration on his face. The hunger in his eyes was palpable, and it made you want to rip his clothes off and let him have his way with you.

But, alas, there was a dinner party to attend.

The car pulled up to the grand estate, and the familiar sight stirred memories you had fought hard to bury. The imposing structure, the opulent surroundings—they whispered of a past that still clung to you. It had only been a few weeks since you had left this life behind, and now you were thrust back into its midst.

Elijah ushered you through the door, his hand offering warmth and reassurance as he drew you close. "Try and relax. I will kill them all before they lay a finger on you," he assured with a grin, sealing the promise with a gentle kiss on your cheek before guiding you inside.

As dinner approached, you found yourself surrounded by your adoptive sisters and faction wives, a gathering of women who had consistently cast you as the family's black sheep. The forced marriage to Elijah was intended to be your punishment, and in the weeks leading up to the wedding, they took every opportunity to remind you of it.

Their eyes, once filled with disdain, now flickered with a mix of envy and fear as they noticed Elijah's presence across the room.

"Isn't he attractive," one of them commented, eyes lingering on Elijah. "I wish my husband looked like that."

"He's a vampire, for goodness' sake. I wouldn't want to be near him," another replied, her tone a mix of fascination and repulsion.

You smiled politely, choosing not to engage in their speculative chatter. The women, fueled by curiosity and perhaps a tinge of jealousy, couldn't resist bombarding you with questions.

"So, how does he... treat you?" one of them asked, her expression a mix of faux concern and genuine intrigue.

"Does he, like, drink your blood?" another blurted out with a shudder, as if the mere thought was enough to make her cringe.

"He must mind-control you, being a vampire and all," another woman remarked, her tone dripping with condescension.

You attempted to change the subject. "Do you ladies know what this dinner party is about?" You asked, trying to seem nonchalant.

"Our husbands don't share that sort of information with us," one added, giving you a critical look. "It's not for us to concern ourselves with."

"I've heard it's because your husband is not living up to his end of the deal," another added, clearly loving the chance to gossip.

"No, Elijah is a man of his word." You argued, looking around at the women. "I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding."

"There is no misunderstanding your recent behavior," the ringleader interjected. "Perhaps the faction is unhappy with your marriage, that it's not meeting their expectations," she added, barely hiding her amusement.

"What was the expectation exactly? That I'd be subjugated by my husband?" you replied harshly.

They scoffed, exchanging knowing glances. "You have been parading around like a whore and out in public without an escort. I've also heard rumors about that honeymoon of yours; you always did have a penchant for the scandalous," one of them commented, a malicious smirk playing on her face.

You raised an eyebrow, unable to resist returning their insults. "Well, I suppose being miserable is a tradition around here. But don't worry, I'll let you know if I ever need advice on how to be unhappy and unsatisfied."

"Oh, dear," one of them scoffed, feigning pity. "You must be so blinded by the allure of a vampire that you can't see the chains he'll undoubtedly tighten around you."

Another chimed in, suggesting, "Perhaps he inflicts pain in bed, then erases it from your mind with mind control."

"It's only fitting you endure such punishment, since you tarnished yourself before marriage," added another with a venomous tone.

"You know, it's fascinating how you all revel in your misery," you retorted, your words cutting through the whispers of the women.

"I heard vampires get bored easily," one of them sneered. "What happens when he loses interest in you?"

As their petty remarks continued, you maintained your composure, refusing to let their jealousy and bitterness affect you. Just before the conversation could delve further into the realm of absurdity, Elijah gracefully approached, cutting through the toxic atmosphere with his warm presence.

"Ladies," he greeted them with a charming smile, "how delightful to see you all."

They greeted him with forced smiles, their eyes shifting between you and Elijah. The ringleader couldn't resist her curiosity. "Are you happy with your new bride, Mr. Mikaelson?"

Elijah's eyes met yours, a fondness in their depths. "Immensely," he replied sincerely. "I believe I've married the best your faction has to offer."

A collective gasp rippled through the women, and you couldn't help but smirk at their transparent jealousy. Elijah then turned to you, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek that seemed calculated to fuel their envy.

"I must steal my lovely wife away for a moment," he announced, gently leading you away from the disapproving gazes. The lingering resentment from the women was almost tangible as you followed Elijah, escaping the judgmental whispers.

"They implied that they know details about our honeymoon, what a bunch of fucking weirdos," you whispered to Elijah in the shelter of a quiet corridor.

A small, understanding smile played on his lips as he gently pushed you against a wall, leaning in to kiss you softly. "They have spies everywhere," he whispered. His lips then trailed down your neck, each kiss a deliberate act of defiance against the gossiping crowd.

"They are being petty and bitter, still trying to punish me," you admitted breathlessly, your emotions a whirlwind as Elijah's touches sparked a mixture of desire and rebellion.

"What exactly did you do?" Elijah asked, gently pulling away from the delicate curve of your neck, curiosity dancing in his eyes. "You only mentioned that you were not considered pure by them."

You placed your hands on his chest, idly toying with his tie. "I may have been caught, you know, engaging in some activities with a young man in the garden," you confessed, avoiding direct eye contact, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

A low chuckle escaped Elijah, followed by another gentle kiss. "Good work," he teased, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "I'm sure that stirred up quite a reaction."

"It did," you responded, a sheepish grin crossing your face. "They couldn't proceed with marrying me off to his father after that."

You made eye contact with Elijah and the both of you burst out laughing, the sound echoing unexpectedly in the quiet corridor. Swiftly realizing the need for composure, you both attempted to stifle the laughter.

"We can always try to further tarnish your reputation," Elijah teased, a playful grin on his lips as he leaned in for another kiss.

Your smile lingered, but you gently pushed him away. "As much as I would love that," you replied playfully, "I believe we should consider playing along. Maybe we can still find a way to maintain some semblance of peace."

"If that is what you desire," Elijah responded with a smile. He took your hand and led you toward the dining hall.

The air in the grand dining room was thick with tension as you headed to your seat. This room, once off-limits to you, now hosted a gathering that felt more like a trial than a negotiation. Familiar faces, some masked in false pleasantries, stared back at you. Uncomfortable memories resurfaced, and you wished you could erase the knowledge of these people from your past.

Elijah guided you with a protective hand on the small of your back, his presence a reassuring anchor in the storm of emotions. You sat down next to your adoptive mother, avoiding her icy gaze. The air was thick with tension, and the clinking of cutlery against fine china echoed through the room.

Your former adoptive mother stood, gesturing for the other guests to remain seated. Her stern gaze turned to you and Elijah.

"It is so good to see you both," she began, her voice dripping with fake sincerity. "I'm sorry we haven't had the opportunity to properly catch up."

You forced a smile, hoping it was convincing enough. "The pleasure is all ours, mother," you lied. "Thank you for hosting such a wonderful evening."

The dinner progressed as expected, with the usual banal small talk and insincere pleasantries. You could feel the tension in the room, a palpable reminder that no one truly wanted you here.

As the dessert was taken away, your adoptive father stood and cleared his throat, capturing the attention of everyone in the room. "Mr. Mikaelson," he began, addressing your husband with a stern gaze, "It seems that we must discuss some new terms if our alliance is to be maintained."

Elijah, ever composed, inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the formality. "I am open to discussions," he replied evenly.

"When we agreed to marry one of our precious daughters to you, we expected a more old-fashioned approach. There must be a clear understanding of hierarchy. We are aware that our dear daughter may have... unconventional views on equality, but for the sake of harmony, you must maintain a certain level of control over her." your adoptive father continued, his gaze unwavering.

"So, you’ve called me here to discuss… what exactly?" Elijah asked, his voice dripping with disdain. "That I make my wife unhappy?"

The tension in the room escalated, each word carrying the weight of expectations and the unspoken threat of consequences. You gripped the edge of your chair, feeling the eyes of the faction bore into you.

"Our faction values tradition, and you and your wife's... liberal perspectives should not compromise the delicate balance we've achieved." Your adoptive mother added, her tone icy.

"My understanding is that you view me as an evil, degenerate monster, and yet you willingly gave your daughter to my family." Elijah said smoothly, leaning casually in his chair and looking around the table at the cowering faces. "It was you that insisted on a marriage pact, because you wanted to punish her."

Your former adoptive mother sighed and rolled her eyes. "She was always a rebellious child, and we had hoped she would learn some discipline under your watch."

"You have no authority to impose any rules over my wife, and as her husband, I have every right to ensure her happiness," Elijah replied, his voice low and dangerous.

The faction members exchanged uneasy glances, sensing a shift in the balance of power. Elijah continued, sarcasm lacing his words. "I apologize that your punishment didn't go as planned… but that's not my concern. Now do you have anything of actual value to discuss with me?"

Amidst the whispered threats and veiled insults, your adoptive mother leaned in, her voice a venomous whisper. "You're nothing more than a vampire's whore, my dear. He'll grow tired of you, mark my words. You'll age, and when you're no longer a viable hole, he'll discard you like yesterday's trash."

The words cut deep, and you shot her a wounded look. It wasn't the first time they had called you a whore, but it stung more this time.

"I'd rather be a vampire's whore than a spineless, miserable woman like you." You seethed. The words were out of your mouth before you could think.

She laughed, her voice sharp and cold. "You truly are a disgrace to the family."

Before you could respond, Elijah placed a calming hand on yours. He smiled, the gesture a sharp contrast to the rage you knew he was fighting to control. "Let me make something perfectly clear. She is a Mikaelson now and you have no control over what we do,"

Elijah's voice, though measured, carried a stern authority that demanded attention. The faction members, accustomed to their position of influence, shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Your adoptive mother, however, met Elijah's gaze with a defiant smirk.

"We understand, but surely you can see the wisdom in maintaining a balance between power and freedom. You wouldn't want our factions to go to war because of her actions, now would you?" Your adoptive mother challenged, her gaze fixed on Elijah.

Elijah's lips curved into a sardonic smile. "You seem to be under the illusion that I need this alliance. I agreed to it for the sake of peace, but do not mistake my compliance for weakness. I could easily rip out every single one of your tongues before you could utter a word in protest."

The room fell silent, and a cold shiver ran down the spines of the faction members as they found themselves face to face with the unyielding determination of a thousand-year-old vampire. Elijah's eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint, and the air became charged with an unmistakable tension.

Your adoptive father, attempting to salvage some semblance of control, stammered, "Mr. Mikaelson, there's no need for threats. We are merely trying to establish a harmonious relationship."

Elijah's gaze remained fixed on your adoptive mother, his tone low and menacing. "My family has a tendency to respond decisively when one of our own is threatened."

Elijah's words hung in the air like a dark omen. The grand dining room, once a space for diplomacy and negotiation, now crackled with an impending sense of conflict. The faction members, who had been so assured of their position, exchanged uneasy glances as the weight of Elijah's threat settled over them.

Your adoptive mother, her earlier bravado waning, swallowed hard. The malicious glint in her eyes faded into a flicker of doubt. For the first time, the façade of control she had meticulously maintained began to crumble.

Elijah rose to his feet, causing unease to ripple through the faction members. He bestowed upon them a sinister smile, wide but devoid of warmth, "Well then, it appears negotiations have reached their conclusion." His gaze shifted to your adoptive father, the sinister expression unwavering. "If we are not allies, I suppose we are at war."

With that, Elijah turned to you, reaching out his hand, and together, you walked out of the room, leaving the faction to their fear and uncertainty. The night air was cool and fresh as you stepped out into the garden, the tension finally releasing from your shoulders. Elijah's presence beside you was comforting, a solid reassurance that the night was over.

He pulled you close, his eyes searching yours. "Are you alright?" he asked softly, his hand caressing your cheek.

You smiled, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. "I'm fine," you replied, leaning into his touch. His other hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a silent affirmation of unity.

"You didn't have to do that for me," you said quietly, feeling far too vulnerable to meet his gaze.

"Of course I did," he replied, softly, placing a lingering kiss on your cheek. "You are my family."

As you gazed into his eyes, a feeling of longing bloomed within you. "I can't believe you threatened them like that," you breathed.

"Well, they were being quite rude," Elijah remarked, his voice tinged with amusement.

His lips grazed yours in a soft kiss, his arms pressing your body to his. You let yourself sink into the moment, savoring the quiet intimacy. He pulled away from the kiss and looked around the garden, giving you a mischievous look. “You know… I have an idea,"

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his sudden playful demeanor. "Oh, really? And what would that be?"

He didn't answer, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. You followed him deeper into the garden, where he pulled you close and began to kiss you again. His hands moved up your back, tracing your bare skin with his fingertips.

"Elijah," you gasped, his touches setting every nerve on fire. “What if they catch us out here?"

He didn't respond, just kissed you harder, his lips hungry and eager. You surrendered to the kiss, letting yourself fall into the passion of the moment.

The night air was filled with the sound of your breathless moans as Elijah kissed your neck, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin. He slowly pulled down the straps of your dress, revealing your bare chest to the moonlight.

His eyes roamed over your body, taking in every curve and inch of skin. He cupped one breast, teasing the nipple with his thumb. Your breath caught as his other hand slipped under the slit of your dress, his fingers exploring the hem of your panties.

“Where exactly did they catch you with that boy?" He whispered in your ear.

"Behind the fountain," you said, the memory making you blush.

A playful smile danced across his lips. He took your hand and led you behind the stone sculpture, pressing you against the wall. He kissed your neck, his lips lingering on the soft skin. You felt his fingers sliding under the thin fabric of your underwear.

You bit your lip, stifling a moan as his fingers brushed against your clit, his eyes fixed on your face. He stroked the sensitive spot slowly, watching your reaction with a satisfied smile.

"Did he touch you here?" he asked softly.

"Yes," you managed to breathe out, your heart racing at the memory.

Elijah's lips curved into a smirk, his gaze darkening. He pressed his body closer, a hand running down your leg and lifting your thigh around his hip. His fingers continued their gentle rhythm before he slipped a finger inside you, his lips inches away from yours.

"And did you enjoy it?" he whispered.

"Yes," you gasped.

He increased the pressure, his fingers moving faster, drawing a gasp from you. You felt the familiar tightening in your stomach, the heat building between your legs.

"I bet he was clumsy and inexperienced," he teased, his voice a low purr.

You moaned in response, your eyes closing as his fingers slid deeper.

"I bet he didn't know how to please a woman like you."

His breath was hot on your skin as his fingers continued their slow rhythm, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"Elijah," you whimpered.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he asked.

"I need more," you pleaded.

His lips curved into a smirk. "More, what?"

"Stop teasing me," you moaned, gripping at his shoulders.

He chuckled and slid a second finger inside you, curling them at the perfect angle. You gasped as his fingers began moving faster, his thumb circling your clit. Your breath came in short gasps, your body trembling under his touch.

You felt the pressure building, your hips bucking against his hand, desperate for release.

He withdrew his fingers and his lips captured yours, kissing you deeply. You whined into his mouth, desperately frustrated by his denial.

“Please fuck me," you begged, your hands gripping his hair, keeping him close to you.

“Where is the nearest bench?" He teased, a wide lustful smile on his face.

You pointed to a nearby stone bench behind him and he scooped you up and in a flash you were seated in his lap upon it.

His lips claimed yours again, and his hands gripped your hips. You straddled him, your hands roaming his body, feeling his muscles flex beneath his shirt. You could feel his cock straining against his pants, and you rubbed yourself against it, desperate for friction.

"So impatient," he teased, his voice a low growl.

You reached down, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants. You took him in your hand, stroking him slowly. His breath hitched, his hips bucking against your touch.

“You know, I had this particularly naughty idea of fucking you right on the dining table," he purred, gazing at you with admiration.

You moaned at the thought, imagining him taking you on the grand table, surrounded by the shocked faces of the faction members. You lifted yourself slightly and lowered onto his length, savoring the way he filled you.

His eyes closed, a soft groan escaping his lips. You began to move, riding him slowly, taking him deeper with each thrust.

His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you rocked against him. You moaned, feeling the tension building again. You leaned forward, pressing your breasts into his face.

He began kissing and sucking your nipples, his teeth gently scraping against the sensitive skin. The sensation sent shivers through your body, and you cried out, arching your back.

You quickly covered your mouth, afraid of getting caught. He smiled, his hands pulling your arms away, allowing your moans to fill the air.

"Let them hear," he growled.

He gripped your hips tighter, thrusting up into you with a fierce intensity. You leaned forward, burying your face in his neck, muffling your cries. You began to tighten around him, your body shaking with pleasure.

"I told you, sweet wife, don't be quiet," he commanded.

You let go, moaning his name as the orgasm rocked your body. Your nails dug into his shoulders, and you felt him tense, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his cum.

You collapsed against him, breathing heavily, and his arms wrapped around you. He kissed your temple, holding you close.

"Are you ready to go home?" He asked softly.

You nodded, still catching your breath. "Yes."

He smiled and picked you up, his arms cradling you. You felt safe and content in his embrace, the stress of the evening fading away. He set you down near the car, some of the faction members had gathered outside, watching you with disapproving glares.

“They definitely heard us," you whispered as Elijah opened the passenger door for you.

He leaned down and kissed you on the cheek, the gesture full of warmth and love. "Good," he said. "Let them hear how happy I make you."

As you sat in the car, watching him walk around to the driver's side, a thought crossed your mind. This was what real freedom was, the freedom to love and be loved. It was not the absence of boundaries, but the choice to cross them when it suited you.

You gazed at Elijah, his eyes shining in the dim light of the car, and your heart swelled. It was in that moment you realized that you had truly fallen for him.

When you arrived at the compound, Elijah went off to discuss matters with Klaus, and you returned to your bedroom. You were still getting used to the place being your home. Elijah put in a lot of effort to make you feel comfortable, even suggesting renovations. You laughed at the idea, the entire concept so foreign to the life you had always known.

You eyed the record you had purchased that morning; after the day's events, you had completely forgotten about it. You smiled and unwrapped it, placing it on the new record player Elijah had bought for you.

You smiled as the music filled the room, pulling off your dress and changing into more comfortable clothing. Then you settled by the fireplace, sinking into the sofa and letting out a soft sigh of contentment. Feeling relaxed was something you had to practice. Living back with the faction, you were always on edge, and even when you slept, your dreams were fraught with anxiety. But somehow, here, surrounded by the deadliest family on earth, you felt safe and calm.

You heard a knock at the door and expected to see Elijah, to your surprise it was Klaus, leaning in the doorframe with his usual causal arrogance.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if we could have a little chat," he said, a sly smile playing on his lips.

Curiosity piqued, you invited him in and he took a seat next to you.

"Now that you're part of the family, I thought it was high time we got to know each other better," Klaus began, his tone surprisingly genial.

You seized the opportunity to address the lingering suspicion. "Do you still think I'm a spy?"

Klaus brushed off the question with a chuckle. "Let's leave suspicions behind for now. I'm more interested in hearing about your honeymoon, the one I so thoughtfully planned."

“It was lovely," you said sincerely, giving him a kind smile. “But the lingerie was a bit presumptuous of you," you teased.

Klaus chuckled, "Well, I thought if you two bonded, such undergarments would be appreciated."

You rolled your eyes at his comment, “well, the rest of it was very nice," you replied politely. “But I'm confused as to why you planned it in the first place,"

Klaus leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Why not? I enjoy orchestrating delightful surprises, and what better way to test the strength of your newfound alliance than a romantic getaway?"

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "I thought you hated the alliance,"

He smirked. “I just wanted you two lovebirds to have a memorable time."

You sighed, realizing Klaus's motives were often shrouded in layers of complexity. "Fair enough. It was, indeed, memorable."

He leaned in, his tone turning more serious. "I hope the robbers didn't rough you up too much,"

Your eyes narrowed. "Elijah told you about that?"

Klaus shrugged coyly, "I just hope it didn't dampen the mood,"

You frowned. "Are you saying you orchestrated that?"

“When Elijah told me he was to marry, I did my research," Klaus gave you a knowing grin. “I was confused as to why the human faction would marry one of their women to a vampire, they loathe our very existence. They treat their women like livestock, to be traded and bred, so why would they insist on a marriage when they gain nothing from it? Then, I learned you were a bit infamous for being promiscuous."

You blushed, hating the knowledge of your poor reputation spreading. “Great," you said sarcastically, unable to meet Klaus’ gaze.

“I knew Elijah would treat you with the kind of respect you had never experienced before and the faction wouldn't be pleased, when they obviously handed you over as a way to hurt you," Klaus continued, giving you a wicked grin.

“How perceptive of you," you replied sardonically. “I fail to see why having me attacked on my honeymoon factors in,"

Klaus leaned back, a self-satisfied smile on his face. "You see, my dear, Elijah has a weakness. He can't resist saving a pretty face, and most women can't resist his heroic charm. It was meant to be a bonding exercise."

“So you saw a way to break the alliance, by using me to manipulate Elijah," you responded, a mixture of disbelief and frustration coloring your tone.

Klaus's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Oh, my dear, alliances in our world are as fickle as the wind. I merely set the stage for the inevitable. The human faction, their minds poisoned by centuries-old prejudices, would never truly accept a truce with vampires. This little ordeal was just the spark needed to set the powder keg ablaze."

You sighed, realizing that in the world of vampires, alliances and betrayals were as common as the moon in the night sky. "And what if I had been seriously hurt?"

Klaus's expression turned serious, a rare glimpse of sincerity in his eyes. “I compelled that robber to rough you up, not kill you,"

Despite the reassurance, a lingering unease settled in the pit of your stomach. "So, what now? Are we on the brink of war?"

Klaus chuckled, the sound carrying a hint of danger. "War, my dear, is inevitable. It's just a matter of when and how. I'm merely expediting the process. The human faction will never peacefully coexist with us. It's in their nature to fear what they don't understand."

You leaned back, grappling with the weight of the revelation. The idyllic honeymoon, orchestrated by Klaus, was nothing more than a chess move in a larger game of power and dominance. You were a pawn, unwittingly playing your part in a conflict that seemed destined to unfold.

"And what about Elijah?" you asked, your gaze piercing Klaus's calculating façade.

"Elijah will do what he must to protect what he loves," Klaus replied cryptically. "As will I."

“Well, just so you know, what you did wasn't even necessary," you replied, the flames from the fireplace dancing in your eyes. “Elijah and I had already bonded before the attack,"

Klaus let out a soft chuckle and stood up, “Elijah generally has that effect, I was just ensuring it," he teased. “Welcome to the family love," with that, he departed, leaving you equally annoyed and amused.

Elijah returned shortly after, wearing an expression of irritation. He settled down beside you, casually draping his arm over the back of the sofa behind you.

You smiled at him. "Bad meeting?"

He let out a tired sigh. "My brother has decided to be insufferable. But that's nothing new… I heard him come by here afterwards, what did he want from you?"

You turned to him, giving him a teasing smile. "Oh, you know, just trying to find out how the honeymoon was."

Elijah raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Did he mention how he set us up?"

"Yes," you replied with a chuckle, “he definitely gives interesting wedding presents."

Elijah's gaze softened. "I am sorry for my brother's antics."

"Well, I suppose it all worked out, except that we are now on the brink of war," you said with a teasing smile, leaning closer and kissing him.

Elijah brow furrowed and he sighed deeply, not returning the kiss. You gave him a concerned look, cupping his cheek as he avoided your gaze. “Care to go for a walk?" he proposed.

You nodded, a hint of anxiety bubbling within.

The journey led you to a quiet park bench overlooking the water. The night was still, the sky painted in inky black hues, and the only sounds were the distant hum of crickets and the gentle waves hitting the rocks.

"I want to discuss something important with you," Elijah spoke quietly, avoiding direct eye contact.

“The breaking of the alliance will have consequences, and you will be in the crossfire," he explained seriously, his hand finding yours. "This marriage puts a target on your back. I offer you your freedom—you can leave. I'll provide all the money you'll ever need, and you can make a real life for yourself, far away from this world."

In contemplative silence, you looked at Elijah. His expression held profound sadness. Though you hadn't known him for long, you understood the depth of his selflessness, doing what he believed was right, not necessarily what he desired.

"Elijah," you said softly, reaching out to cup his cheek. "You are the first person in my life who actually cares about me, and in return, I care about you. I'm not going anywhere."

"You won't have the life you deserve with me," he asserted, placing his hand on yours. "You can go, find a love you choose, have children, do whatever you want."

With a deep breath, you gazed into Elijah's eyes, unwavering in your determination. "I take my vows as seriously as you do," you asserted, your voice steady. "I choose you, Elijah."

He nodded to himself, his gaze shifting to the tranquil water. In a sudden, graceful move, he moved off the bench and dropped to one knee, looking at you with a serious expression, his eyebrows slightly raised. Elijah removed his daylight ring, extending it towards you.

"What are you doing?" you asked in surprise, chuckling at his gesture. "You are ruining your pants, kneeling in the dirt."

"Will you be my wife?" he asked, a gentle smile gracing his lips.

"Pretty sure I already am," you laughed, reaching out to pull him back to the bench, but he playfully slapped your hand away.

He chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with affection. "This time, it's your choice,"

A warm smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you realized the sincerity in his eyes. "Yes," you answered, your voice filled with a mixture of joy and affection. "I would be honored."

Elijah's eyes softened, a genuine happiness reflecting in them. He slipped the daylight ring onto your finger and then pulled you into his arms. In the warmth of that park, surrounded by the night's stillness, you kissed him. Then, you uttered those three powerful words for the first time. "I love you, Elijah."

His eyes, already soft with affection, seemed to deepen in emotion. A wide smile spread across his features, and he pulled you even closer, as if wanting to etch this moment into eternity. "And I love you."

Epilogue

The sun streaming through the curtains roused you from sleep, and as you turned, you found your husband still in peaceful slumber. His serene expression intrigued you, wondering about the pleasant dreams that might be occupying his mind. You rested your head on his shoulder, snuggling close and listening to his deep breathing. He let out a soft sigh and a gentle grunt as he woke, kissing the top of your head sleepily. His arms wrapped around you, as he rested his head on yours.

Your fingers traced a path down his chest and torso, igniting a warmth that intensified between your legs. Slipping beneath the blankets, your hand settled over his boxers, sensing his arousal growing beneath your touch.

"Hmm," he mumbled, his finger gently lifting your chin, tilting your head upward, and capturing your lips in a kiss.

A smile played on your lips as you returned the kiss, your hand continuing its slow, teasing strokes through the fabric.

Elijah responded with a low, appreciative hum, his hands exploring the curves of your body as the intensity between you two escalated.

With a subtle movement, he guided you onto your back, breaking the kiss only momentarily. His eyes locked onto yours, a deep intensity reflecting in them.

“What does my lovely wife desire so early in the morning?" He teased, his lips mere inches from your own.

You let out a soft laugh, feeling the warmth of the morning sunlight creating a cocoon around the two of you. "Mmm...I have a few ideas," you whispered, your voice carrying a hint of playful mischief.

He grinned, his eyes brightening as he lowered his head, his lips grazing your neck. Your eyelids fluttered closed, as you sighed in contentment. The sensation of his mouth and hands elicited a series of breathy moans, a warm ache building between your legs.

“Does my wife need me to fuck her into our bed?" he asked in a soft tone, his hands parting your legs.

You bit your lip, your eyes meeting his with an intensity that mirrored the desire growing within you. "Desperately," you admitted, a playful gleam in your eyes.

Elijah's hands traced a tantalizing path up your thighs, and his lips met yours in a hungry kiss. “Already so wet for me," he murmured in your ear, his finger brushing over your clit, causing your hips to twitch. Elijah continued to touch you with slow deliberate circles, each movement bringing you closer to the edge.

Unable to resist any longer, you tugged at his boxers. Elijah positioned himself between your legs, the anticipation in his eyes mirroring your own. Eagerly, you reached down, freeing him and rubbing the head of his cock against your wet core.

“Tell me what you want," he whispered, his voice a sultry invitation.

A breathy moan escaped your lips as you met his intense gaze. "I want you," you admitted, desire lacing every word.

Elijah's eyes darkened with a mixture of passion and possessiveness. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly entered you, and a simultaneous gasp of pleasure escaped both of you.

He set a pace of slow, deep strokes, the soft, wet sounds of your bodies colliding filling the room. His eyes were locked onto yours with such intensity that it made your heart skip. The love you shared being conveyed through the physical.

You both moved to a familiar rhythm, his fingers intertwined with yours, pressing them next to your head. The pleasure mounted with every movement, and the warmth from the sun beaming through the curtains covered you in a comforting embrace. He captured your lips again in a soft kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours, as he continued to fuck you at an agonizing pace. The combination of his kisses and the slow, steady thrusts were driving you wild.

“Elijah," you moaned as your climax began to build, the intensity of it threatening to overwhelm you.

Elijah lifted his head, a smug, satisfied grin spreading across his face. "You are so beautiful when you moan my name like that," he commented.

Elijah kissed you again, and then his lips grazed your neck, his teeth nipping and sucking gently on the sensitive skin. Your breaths came in short gasps as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

You let out a low moan, as his cock began to hit your sweet spot with every stroke, a wave of pleasure running through your body. He continued his movements, his hand finding its way between your bodies, and his thumb stroking your clit.

"Come for me, darling," he murmured, you could feel his warm breath against your neck.

Your head fell back and your eyes closed, as you focused on the feeling of his cock moving in and out of you. A tingling sensation ran through you, and the familiar warmth spread across your body, as you climaxed.

Elijah groaned as you clenched around him and he leaned back, tossing the blankets off of you and splaying his hands across your thighs and pushing them wider. He increased his pace, rolling his hips into you to maintain his deep strokes.

“I can't believe you are all mine," he said in amazement.

Your body trembled with the aftershocks, and you could already feel another orgasm building within you. Elijah continued to rock his hips, and you whimpered with pleasure. He pulled almost completely out, and then thrust back into you, hitting your sweet spot, and making you cry out.

The sensations were overwhelming and you were desperate to hold onto this moment for as long as possible.

“Elijah, please," you begged, not even knowing what for.

He leaned forward as his fingers tugged on your hair, tilting your head back and exposing your throat. His lips grazed your skin, then he began sucking hard enough to leave a mark. He moved to your mouth, capturing it in a rough, possessive kiss, his tongue tangling with yours.

The sensation sent shivers through your body, and you were so close to the edge that you felt your toes curling.

"I want you to come for me again," he whispered, his words sending a thrill of pleasure through your body.

"Oh, Elijah," you moaned.

“No pretty wife, that's not what I want you to call me," he said teasingly, slowing his pace down and grazing his fingers over your clit once more.

"Husband ," you moaned, feeling a rush of heat through your body as the word slipped from your lips.

"Good wife," he praised.

He continued to move his hips in a torturously slow rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. His thumb pressed harder on your clit, rubbing circles, and you writhed, moaning as he brought you closer to your second orgasm.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him against you, needing him, craving him, wanting him more than anything in this moment. Your breaths were ragged as you kissed him, your body trembling as your eyes widened and your back arched as a second orgasm washed over you. You tightened around him and you felt his hips buckle, his thrusts becoming erratic.

He let out a deep moan, burying his face in your neck. Your hands ran through his hair and you pulled his head up, pressing your lips against his. You moaned into his mouth, and you felt his hips buck as he emptied himself into you, the sensation causing your hips to rise and meet his, the waves of pleasure consuming you both.

He collapsed beside you, breathing heavily, and pulling you close, as you both bathed in the warmth of the morning sun.

You rested your head on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comfort.

You felt Elijah's lips brush against your forehead and his fingers tilt your chin upward. His eyes were soft, a tenderness reflecting in their depths.

"I love you, my dear wife," he murmured.

You smiled, your lips meeting his. "And I love you, my dear husband."

Thanks for reading Part 3!

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{Part One} {Part Two}

329 notes · View notes

withahappyrefrain · 1 year

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So I've thought a lot about how big an asshole jake would be if he introduced bob to his soulmate but I've only just considered how much would change if bob introduced jake to his... checkmate bagman

I love this idea so much. This can also be seen as a follow up to He's All That!

"All I'm saying, Baby on Board," Jake continued as he racked up the pool balls, "Is that it's the least you can do, considering that if it weren't for me, you'd still be single."

"And all I'm saying bagman is thanks again for your help and you'll get a shoutout in the ceremony," Bob sighed before taking another sip of his water. With the way Jake was bothering him, he was debating switching to beer.

"Jacob Floyd has a great ring to it and would be a wonderful way to honor the man responsible for your future children."

"All you did was tell her his name and that Bob was single," Mickey retorted, shaking his head as he grabbed a nearby pool stick.

"Summarizing what I did as merely telling her his name is insulting beyond belief. I sold Bob to Luna. Without me, she wouldn't have gone looking for him," Jake scoffed.

Unfortunately the woman of the hour was not here to confirm or deny if Jake was telling the truth or making up shit as he went along.

"And without us, he wouldn't have had those three shots to give him enough courage to continue talking to her," Bradley countered.

"Nor would I had bumped into her because you took my glasses," Bob muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Besides, Bradley Floyd sounds way better," He remarked, ignoring the scoff from Jake.

"Wait, why do you get a kid named after you?" Mickey chimed in.

"All I'm saying, is that you'd much rather start your kid off right by giving them my name than Bradshaw's."

"Why, you little-"

"Bob has to propose to her first before there are any kids to name!" Phoenix chimed in, pressing her beer bottle to her temple, hoping it would somehow take her away from all these idiots.

"He's working on it!" Bob had revealed earlier that he finally picked up the ring for her, which was what prompted this whole conversation.

"Working on what?" A sweet, lithe voice promptly caused everyone to shut up. Everyone, except Bob ironically.

"Hey darlin'! Where's your friend?" Bob asked before placing a kiss on his girlfriend's cheek.

"She's on her way! I was going to wait outside for her, but wanted to say hi first," She paused, a sweet smile overtaking her face, "Hi Robby."

"Hi Luna," Bob giggled before planting a kiss on her lips that was so sweet, the nearby squad groaned.

"They're so stupidly cute," Phoenix muttered.

"I'm going to go wait for her," Luna was about to turn when she stopped, her eyes meeting Jake's, "You ready Bagman?"

Jake scoffed to cover his confusion, "Ready for what?"

She giggled, the bridge of her nose creasing as she smiled, making it impossible to be annoyed with her, "To meet your future wife!"

And with that she left, practically skipping out of the bar.

"Floyd, what the hell is she talking about?" Jake asked, turning his full attention to the bespectacled WSO, one had an uncharacteristic smirk on his face.

"We're not going to name our kid after you. Instead, we're going to introduce you to your future wife." Bob was pretty confident for once, not at all shaken by having all eyes on him.

"I'm sorry?" was all Jake could find himself saying.

"Don't worry Bagman, you'll love her. She's perfect for you."

"Floyd, no offense-"

"Offense already taken."

"But your idea of the perfect woman is a bit different from mine."

It wasn't. In fact, it was pretty similar. But Bob knew Jake wasn't ready for that conversation yet.

"Yeah Bob, you sure this girl is right for Hangman?" Phoenix lowered her voice, "You really want to subject her to Bagman? How bad is she?"

"She's perfect for Bagman," Bob assured her, not that if convinced Nat-or anyone else. Certainly not Jake.

"Whatever baby on board," Jake scoffed, "Just know that when she comes crying to you, all heartbroken that she's not....."

His voice trailed off as his eyes fully took in the sight of the sun dress-clad figure that was now next to Luna at the bar.

"She's not the what?" Javy asked, nudging Jake.

Javy received no response, as Jake was too mesmerized by how fucking adorable you were when you pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

He could see that you were listening to Luna intently as she pointed out people in the dagger squad.

When your eyes met his, Jake swore he could feel the Earth stop moving.

"The future Mrs. Seresin," He said with a dreamy sigh, causing Bradley and Natasha to wonder if somehow an alien had taken over his body. Because that would make more sense the other alternative.

Jake all but shoved the pool stick to Javy, his eyes focused on you. The smile and small wave you sent his way caused Jake to nearly trip over his feet.

"Where the hell are you going, the game isn't finished," Mickey called out to no avail.

"I'm going to meet my future wife," Jake said, annoyed that he even had to explain it because wasn't it obvious?

The squad watched in wonder (except for Bob, who still had a smug look on his face) as Jake made his way over to you and Luna.

"Bob, this girl seems sweet. You sure you want to subject her to Bagman?" Bradley asked, legitimate concern in his eyes.

Bob shrugged, "She teaches seventh grade. She'll be able to put Bagman in his place just fine. See?"

The group watched as you handed Jake several bottles of beer to hold. Jake was more than happy to oblige, staring at you with what could only be described as heart eyes.

Luna skipped ahead, giving the squad a thumbs up as she sat down next to Bob.

"How's it going darlin'?" Bob asked before pressing a light but sweet kiss to her cheek.

"Bagman tried to kiss her on the wrist and she lectured him about how it's not the 1950s," Luna giggled while everyone else stared at her in shock.

Everyone except for Bob.

"He apologized profusely. That's also why he offered to carry the drinks."

"Has he ever held anyone's drinks besides his own?" Mickey asked.

"Better question, has he ever apologized within five minutes of offending someone?" Bradley countered.

"He sure as fuck hasn't," Natasha's eyes widened at the sight of Jake fucking Seresin offering the crook of his arm to you. After staring at the gesture long enough to make him sweat, you hooked your arm around his, letting him lead you back to everyone.

"Bob, what the fuck did you do?" Reuben asked.

"He just needed someone to soften the edges!" Luna explained. Natasha was about to scoff at the mere idea of Hangman being soft.

But then she saw how gentle Jake was when he offered you his stool and handed you a beer. The smile he had on his face was just that, uncharacteristically soft.

Maybe Bob and his lady were onto something.

"Hey Bagman!" Bob called out.

"Yeah?" Jake turned around, trying his best hide his annoyance at Bob interrupting the conversation he was having with you.

"Robert Seresin has a great ring to it."

#my writing #jake seresin x reader #Bob Floyd #jake seresin #Hangman fluff #hangman x you #jake hangman x reader #hangman x y/n #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman fic #jake hangman seresin

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runnning-outof-time · 3 months

Note

Can I request John and "Did you even miss me?" Congrats on 3.5k!

Thanks for sending this in, anon! I’m sorry it took me so long to write! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Wasn’t Expecting You

John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 707

Summary: After being away for weeks, John decides to surprise his wife. She becomes so surprised by him that her reaction isn’t what he was expecting.

“You really don’t know how much longer they’ll be away for?” (Y/N) asked Ada as they both took their seats in the front room of (Y/N)’s home.

“I don’t,” Ada answered with a slight frown and a shake of her head. “Tommy never gives an exact timeline, and Arthur and John just follow along with it.”

“That explains why he won’t say anything when he calls me,” (Y/N) sighed, looking down at her lap.

“They’ll be home soon enough,” Ada assured her, her lips pursed in a tight smile, “and then they’ll become our problems again.”

(Y/N) giggled at the second half of her sister-in-law’s statement. She had to agree - things were much calmer when the boys were out of town.

“So…how have things been around here lately?” Ada asked once they were finished laughing.

“They’ve been grand. This place is finally starting to feel like a home,” (Y/N) answered, her smile wide as she looked around the room.

“Everything looks lovely,” Ada answered, her eyes focused on something behind (Y/N). The other woman just figured she was looking at some of the decorations behind her. She saw her smile widen just as someone else spoke out.

“I’ve brought the booze!” a third voice entered the conversation. Ada’s expression switched on a dime and she rolled her eyes at the statement.

(Y/N) didn’t get time to question it because someone had swooped in beside her to place a set of glasses down on the coffee table. She couldn’t make out much, just that the person was wearing a brown suit. Ada was also looking at her expectantly now. “I don’t think we needed booze…?” she hesitantly questioned, her brows furrowed.

Ada had to hold back her laughter. “Have you not noticed who that is?” she asked seconds later.

“Huh?” (Y/N) was confused now. Ada nodded her head at the person. So she turned to look up at him. “Oh…John?”

“Yeah, it’s me, love,” he answered, his usual cheshire cat-like grin present. “Not the welcome home I was expectin’ though…did you even miss me?”

Something clicked in (Y/N)’s mind as he was speaking. She jumped up from the couch as quickly as she could and threw her arms around his frame. “Of course I missed you! We were just talking about you coming home,” she said to him as she held onto his body tightly. A wide smile was present on her face when she pulled away. “I just…I looked quick and thought you were Finn or something,” she sheepishly explained her previous lack of excitement.

Her statement made John snort. “Finn? Now that’s a fuckin’ insult!” he exclaimed, his still present grin showing that he was teasing her.

“Oh shut up, John,” she jokingly huffed as she lightly smacked his shoulder. He sent her a tight lipped grin, one that she couldn’t hold up a straight face to. Her grin grew as she buried her face into his chest.

“No, darling, I wanna see that beautiful smile of yours,” he said, coaxing her to lift her head once more, “been too long since I’ve seen it.”

“Been too long since you’ve kissed me as well…” she trailed off, a knowing look in her eyes.

“You make a good point,” he agreed with her, tucking his fingers under her chin so that he could guide her lips to his. They shared a sweet kiss before a voice broke them apart.

“That’ll be my cue to go,” Ada announced, standing from her chair so that she could grab her things.

“Thanks for coming over, Ada,” (Y/N) smiled at the woman as she made her way to the door. The two ladies said their goodbyes before John got the attention of his wife again.

“You really thought I was Finn?” he asked her, his eyebrows raised.

“I didn’t think you’d be home so soon,” she defended herself.

“Yeah, but…Finn?” he emphasized his little brother’s name as mock-disgust filled his time.

“Oh shut up and kiss me again, will you?” she dismissed his question, taking hold of his cheeks then so that she could bring his lips to hers once more.

*tagging in reblog so that hopefully the notification gets sent

MASTERLIST

#john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby x y/n #john shelby x you #john shelby blurb #john shelby imagine #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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rubykgrant · 2 months

Text

Idea for a Magnus Archives AU (that I don't have time to write all the way out, but it still intrigues me~)

At some point after Martin's father left, but when he was still very young, somebody offered to bring Mrs Blackwood some furniture. Used, but still in good condition. She refused, insulted by the idea that she needed "pity" or "charity", despite the fact that her health is already making things difficult... one day, while her son is at school, she hears a knock at the door. It takes her a while to get there. When she finally opens it, whoever knocked is gone, but they have left behind a table.

She assumes it was the same person as before, and is now irritated that they have "dumped" their old junk on her doorstep. A neighbor sees and offers to at least bring it inside. She decides it may as well be put to use, so she lets the neighbor move it in. Alone in the house, she looks the table over. It certainly isn't new, but isn't too beat-up or broken. It has a VERY unique pattern... almost like an optical illusion...

When Martin gets home from school, he's surprised to see that his mother is in the kitchen, getting ready to cook dinner; she hasn't done that in a year! He offers to help, or just make himself a sandwich and canned soup if she wants to rest, but she assures him that she's feeling MUCH better. This continues for several months, the doctors are amazed by what seems to be a miracle recovery! All the neighbors and old friends agree, she's also had a change in attitude lately, but it all seems for the better. Her son is especially happy... his mother seems so much more "gentle" than she used to be, and she doesn't even make him drink oolong tea with her anymore. She's decided that Earl Grey is better.

Nobody notices that her hair is a different length, a different color. Nobody notices the shape of her eyes and jawline has changed. Nobody notices that she's taller. Not any friends, neighbors, doctors, or family. Even all the photographs in the house have changed. A different woman is holding a tiny, newborn baby. A different woman is sitting next to a small Christmas tree, helping a child open a present. Nobody notices... except for one person.

When Mr Blackwood heard from an old friend that the wife he left had recovered, he suddenly had second thoughts. He really had thought she would die, and he must have had some sort of break-down. He couldn't handle it, so he ran away... but he's thinking clearly again. It has nothing to do with the fact that he also heard his wife recently got a new job, a very well-paying one with the kind of health plan that a spouse could share. It has nothing to do with the fact that he isn't feeling well himself lately, and he's noticed that he has nobody to take care of HIM. It has nothing to do with the fact that he hasn't been able to find work, and he also can't find a place to live. He just wants to go back because he misses his wife and son. That's all.

When Mr Blackwood returned, he brought flowers. To apologize. He knocked on the door, and heard a muffled voice call- "Come in!". He picked a time of day when he knew Martin would be at school, so he and his wife could reunite with some privacy. He expected his wife to be upset. He expected his wife to be angry, maybe cry, or try to throw something at him. He expected it would take time for his wife to let him explain, then forgive him. He expected HIS WIFE. The woman in this home was not his wife... she said she was, she smiled, used his name like she knew him, but she WASN'T. Her voice, face, EVERYTHING was different! This was wrong, why was this strange woman here?

He ran away, even though she called for him to stay. He tried to speak with their friends, her family... everybody acted like he was crazy. They acted like the woman claiming to be his wife was right. After months and months of trying to talk some sense into people, he finally remembers Martin; surely a child would know their own mother? Mr Blackwood has been watching the house, and he sees little Martin kiss the woman good-bye, then leave for school. As if everything was normal. He can't stand it anymore! He bursts through the door, shouting at the woman to tell the truth, but the noise alerts the neighbors, who call for help, and he leaves...

He stays away for more than a year, but he never went far. He kept watching. He tried to figure out WHY somebody would pretend to be his wife, and HOW she could fool everybody. It never makes any sense. He comes back again, in the middle of winter. Martin is sleeping over at a friend's house. Mr Blackwood has been sleeping in an old treehouse, long abandoned by the kids who built it. He can't stand the idea of that strange woman sleeping in the bed that SHOULD be his (that would have been his, if he hadn't left). He uses his key to open the back door. She hasn't changed the locks. He goes in, ready to be rough if necessary; he will get the truth if it kills him.

Around 2 in the morning, Mrs Blackwood calls for help. Her husband, the one who left her, the one who came back and threatened her, just tried to attack her! She fought back, and he ran off again. No trace of him is ever found. When Martin comes home, they have a discussion, and decide it isn't safe to life here anymore. So they move, not too far, Martin can still visit people he knew growing up. The new house is much nicer, in a safe neighborhood.

They take just about everything with them, except for a few large pieces of furniture they sell. Mrs Blackwood wants to keep the table with the unique pattern, though. She's grown rather fond of it. The movers she hired are... odd, but they get everything to the new home very quickly. When his mother speaks with the two of them beside their truck, Martin watches from a window, and he has the strangest feeling that... his mother might just step up into it, and ride away with them. Then she'll be gone, and he'll be alone. He can't explain why, but he almost expects it to happen.

She doesn't leave. She comes back inside, smiling, and hugs her child. Why wouldn't she? As the years go by, Martin wonders about his father; why the man left, why he came back, why he seemed so confused about who his own wife was. Martin also wonders what his father looked like, as none of the pictures they saved show his face. Mrs Blackwood tells her son- "I suppose there's a resemblance, but when I look at you, I just see YOU, not him. I love you too much to see your father in your features".

Martin grows up happy and safe with his mother. He's able to finish school, and eventually starts working at a bakery. Later, when he moves out to get his own place, he finds a job at a restaurant-confectionery in London. His mother didn't want him living so far away, but he really wants to sort of "get out in the world", have some experience on his own. Someday, he'd like to have his own tea shop and cafe. He works from the middle of the day to late shifts at the cafe, and he gets to know some of the regulars very well. One woman, Sasha, comes in often to get food and drinks for her coworkers. Martin likes chatting with her, and eventually meets Tim when they come to have lunch together. He considers them to be friends.

One day, they call and tell Martin they want to order the most extravagant cake possible for their boss; it is his birthday, and they are going to be obnoxious about it, but also trick him so he doesn't know they've planned something. Martin offers to bring it over himself, so they can pretend to not be up to anything. This is how he enters the Magnus Institute. This is how he meets Jonathan Sims. This is how he starts learning about the strange things they research here. This is how he sees a picture of a table with a very curious pattern. This is how he asks if he can listen to the statement about that table...

#the magnus archives #martin blackwood

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waynes-multiverse · 27 days

Text

Rehab – Epilogue

Series Summary: Thanks to Soldier Boy, the CIA was able to develop Project Bloom under the fierce leadership of Grace Mallory: a final cure to Compound V and a hopeful end to the supe epidemic three years after the explosive incident at Vought. A secret rehab facility in Upstate New York is supposed to help former heroes find their way back to humanity. The catch, though? Soldier Boy has never fucking agreed to any of this shit and is surely not happy about being powerless for the first time in his goddamn long life.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, some crack, a bit of fluff and angst, hard decisions, a lot of goodbyes & all the feels

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: We're here, babes! End of the road! Thank you guys so much for everything. This was a wild ride, and I'm glad I had you in my passenger's seat 💚

Feedback is my fuel 🖤

<< Chapter 8 || Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Epilogue: twin flame

You’re gonna be nowhere The loneliest kind of lonely It may be rough goin’ Just to do your thing’s the hardest thing to do…

“Morning.” Y/N smiles brightly as he stirs and slowly wakes. “Wakey, wakey, sunshine.”

Blue eyes flutter open and fearfully widen, his brow scrunches in confusion as he looks around and scans his environment. He tries to wiggle free of the handcuffs around his wrists, keeping him tied to the metal bed frame.

Not that it matters – he can’t leave either way.

She turns off the radio with a blissful sigh. “You know, that was one of his favorite songs. Your father’s,” she clarifies. “He sang it all the time. It was fucking annoying.”

“Why the hell can’t I move? Get me the fuck out of here,” the man in a sky-blue hospital gown demands and lifts his head off the mattress, only a few inches, attempting to get up.

Needless to say, that attempt is futile and fails miserably.

“Don’t strain yourself, John, or you might shit the bed. And I ain’t cleaning that mess… You’ve been in a coma for three weeks,” Y/N tells him with an amused smile. “Oh, and you can’t move because you’re paralyzed from the waist down. I even doubt that meager dick’s still working.”

His nostrils flare and let out a huff. “It’s Homelander, you bitch. No one calls me by that name.”

“Yeah, not anymore.” Y/N twitches her shoulders in mock apology. Her mouth curves into a Machiavellian grin. “Scared yet?”

“Where the fuck am I?” he growls through gritted teeth, upset by her blatant disrespect.

“You’re at a rehab facility for former supes. I mean, it’s discontinued. Abandoned, really. It’s just you and me,” she replies flatly and then forces a customer-service smile to her lips. “So, guess I’ll be your nurse for the day. How are we doing, you–”

Her brow furrows as she tries to remember the exact words, pensively pursing her lips.

“Wait…” She holds up a finger to stop him from interrupting her as she fishes out a crumpled piece of paper from her jeans pocket. She squints her eyes in concentration as she skims over its content.

“Ah yes!” With a smile, she clears her throat and reads from her paper. “So, how are you doing, you bootlicking… carpet-munching… cockboy?”

Homelander frowns at the insults. Y/N does too, but for a different reason as she shakes her head.

“Jesus fucking Christ, your dad’s handwriting is an atrocity,” she mutters as she tilts her head with narrowed eyes at the paper in her hands.

The blond man’s eyes narrow in both shock and confusion. “How do you know my father?”

“Oh, uhm, I’m his wife,” Y/N says and smiles complacently. “Which technically makes me your step-mommy, but let’s not go there, you–… Wait.” She peeks once more at the paper in her hands. “You cumguzzling… cowfucking… cuck fluffer.” Her brow draws up, impressed. “Huh, nice. Little alliteration going on there. Guess all those books paid off…”

“Can we skip to the part where you tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?” Homelander snaps impatiently, annoyed with the shenanigans.

“Alright, your dad sent me here to, you know… gloat,” Y/N says simply and shrugs, flashing him an easy smile. “He wanted you to know that he’s the one that put you into this damn bed. Funnily enough, he once woke up in this very room, tied to a bed. Not in a kinky way, though. Although, he probably would’ve loved that…” She chuckles fondly. “This place really changed him, but I doubt it’ll do the same for you.”

“And why the fuck isn’t he here telling me this, huh?” John asks with a challenging look. “I didn’t reckon him for a fucking coward.”

Y/N’s facade cracks a little at his words, a vicious smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, he was not a coward. He was the bravest man I’ve ever known. He was and is a fucking hero and surely getting celebrated as one.”

Y/N leans back in her chair and grabs the remote from the bedside table, switching on the TV. A news report flickers across the screen. It’s a recording from a few weeks ago, but Homelander doesn’t know that. It shows a row of celebratory parades held all over the country. A statue of Soldier Boy is being erected next to the Statue of Liberty.

Homelander finally defeated. Soldier Boy dies a hero in fierce combat. America breathes a sigh of relief.

Homelander watches the news and reads the taglines as they scroll in front of his eyes. His mouth is agape in bewilderment before Y/N switches the television off again.

“Everyone loves him… and fucking hates you. Like spit-on-your-grave hate,” she summarizes and watches his face darken. She rises from her seat and smiles down at him. “Have a nice life chained to that bed till you rot to death, you dickfaced, inbred, garbage-eating fascist.”

With a wide smirk, she then leans down and whispers into his ear, “Those were my insults, by the way.”

“Well, he’s dead, and I’m fucking alive, which means I won,” Homelander snarls from the bed with a contrivedly triumphant sneer, rattling with his handcuffs. He’s close to an explosion, she can tell.

“Yeah, you’d be telling yourself that if it makes you feel better…”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N turns her back. As she marches out of the room, Homelander’s furious screams of agony haunt the clinic’s empty hallways, but there is no one here to hear them anymore.

Project Bloom has been disbanded. There’s only a handful of CIA nurses left, tasked to take care of Homelander until his hopefully slow and painful death. If someone decides to hold a pillow over his head at any point, she supposes she wouldn’t be that mad about it either.

Homelander is history. Soldier Boy is dead. And Ben is at rest.

Finally, Y/N can leave this godforsaken place behind her.

Y/N slides into the driver’s seat of her Prius, her head falling back as she exhales a long, exhaustive breath and rubs her temples. That damn brat gave her a fucking migraine with his whiny bitching.

“Finally,” it huffs from the backseat. “Took you long enough. How the fuck did it go?”

Y/N blinks into the rearview mirror and catches a set of expectant green eyes. Her hand drops from her temples as she chuckles.

“Your handwriting is horrible,” she says as a response and pulls out the paper, pointing at a word. “What the hell is that one?”

Ben leans forward between the seats and squints his eyes. “Mmh, pube flosser,” he supplies and frowns. “You didn’t use that one?”

Y/N sighs. “I think he’s got the gist without it.”

“Yeah, but that was a good one,” Ben mumbles and sighs disappointedly. “Did you play him the song?”

“Yes, I did. I played him the song and did everything else you wanted me to do,” she confirms patiently. “You know, you’ve got a weird knack for torture.”

“Thank you. It’s a gift.” Ben blushes and adjusts his baseball cap. “Did you sell it properly? You know, acting is a skill. The most important thing is to–”

“Ben! For the love of God, shut up or I’ll run you over with my car,” Y/N snaps. If he gives her one more acting lesson, she swears she’ll turn herself a widow.

“Fine.” Ben scoffs and rolls his eyes back. “Did he fucking buy it?”

“Yup, he surely thinks you’re dead. Like the rest of the world,” Y/N says and shoots him a smile over her shoulder.

He matches it and scratches his shaved chin, letting himself fall back into the seat. “Good. So, we’re done, right?”

“Yeah, he was the last stop on our list,” she replies quietly, her smile mixing with sadness. “How’s the arm?”

“Good, good…” He nods, his head bobbing thoughtfully as he clutches the scar on his right bicep. “Healing nicely. Finally got a real war wound. Always wanted one.”

“Okay, then… Let’s go, I guess.” With a heavy swallow, Y/N turns the ignition and starts the car.

“You know, I’d really love to kiss you now,” Ben notes, heartache swinging in his voice, and finds her eyes in the rearview mirror.

Y/N bites down on her lip and nods. “Yeah, wouldn’t that be nice…”

Three weeks ago…

A guard gestures down the hallway to the restrooms, but as soon as Y/N rounds the corner and is out of sight, she takes a turn in the opposite direction.

The good thing about a super secret government facility that’s not supposed to exist is that it only comes with the necessary manpower. There’s no abundance of guards at every corner. It’s quiet and desolate.

Moreover, no one expects a silly and weak human to cause any trouble. It surely has its advantages to be constantly underestimated.

Y/N finds the lab she’s passed on their way in, where she spied a glass fridge with vials of different colors. It’s guarded, but only by one person. It’s sloppy, honestly.

A flirty ambush, a stab to the neck with a dull pocket knife, a stolen keycard, and she’s inside. She drags the body in, too, leaving no trace of her crime behind.

Her fingers rummage through differently labeled flasks. There’s plenty of blue and yellow, but not the poisonous green she’s looking for.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…” she mutters to herself as she desperately searches every drawer, every goddamn cabinet of the laboratory.

Out of breath, she stops and grips her temples, shoulders slumping as her mind spins. She wants to curse and scream, but that would draw too much attention. She knows she’s running out of time. No one takes that long to fucking pee. Decisions have to be made quickly.

She grabs a blue vial.

Rolling down her sleeves, she walks nervously back into the control room. Neither Mallory nor Edgar pays her any mind. Everyone’s eyes are glued to Soldier Boy and Homelander. Father and son. It’s biblical.

It’s as if she isn’t even there.

Her veins twitch, her blood boils. It’s tingling in her fingertips.

“Little help would be fucking appreciated!” Ben yells as he wrangles with a defunct Homelander.

Stan Edgar’s smile. So vicious. So cold. So calculating.

She knows the air in the room is about to shift. Her hands ball into fists by her side, gather their energy.

He gives his command. She screams.

“No! That wasn’t the fucking deal!”

Edgar doesn’t even look at her fully. A sideways glance is all she’s worth. “Take her out, too.”

Mallory sees it first, her eyes widening when she realizes what’s going on. It’s too late to warn anyone, however, her cries for help unheard as the acid rots her throat.

Edgar and two guards are next, metal weapons melt and mix with a puddle of human soup on the ground. Then, she goes after the one that got away.

The third guard hurries inside the prison cell, but Y/N slips through the crack of the door before it slams shut. The first gunshot goes clean through Homelander’s spine, but the second is deterred and only strikes Ben’s arm as the guard bubbles to a pond, a hot spring in the concrete.

Ben clutches his bleeding wound with a hiss before his green eyes lock with hers. They widen, and it takes him a moment to make sense of it all.

“Y/N, what–”

He takes a step forward. She takes a step back.

“Don’t come near me,” she orders him with panic blinking in her eyes like a flashing alarm. Her chest rises and falls with every anxious breath.

He holds his palms up high, surrendering. “It’s okay.”

Ben carefully walks around her and steps over the bubbling human puddle on the floor. He peeks outside the door, purses his lips, and nods in impressed satisfaction.

“Those little blobs outside–”

Y/N bobs her head at his unfinished question. “Mallory and Edgar plus two guards,” she replies.

“Nice job.” He whistles lowly and shoots her a devilish grin, taking a step closer. “Gotta say, I’ve never been more turned on by you. I’m getting fucking hard.”

“Ben!” Y/N scolds and backs away from him until she’s pressed against the wall. “I told you, don’t touch me,” she warns him again.

Ben’s smile fades as he recognizes her fear. His features soften, the jokes disappear. “Hey, it’s alright. Twenty-four hours and you’ll be fine again. Just gotta get through it.”

Y/N shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes. Ben’s brow knits in confusion, his face stern.

“What-… Why are you shaking your head?”

A tear escapes and streaks her cheek. “It won’t go away in twenty-four hours,” she chokes out. “They were out of Temp V.”

Ben’s face drops at the realization. “No, no, no… Tell me you didn’t fucking do this!” he yells.

“They were going to kill you! What was I supposed to do?” Y/N explains tearfully.

“Die, Y/N! You were supposed to let me fucking die!” Ben’s jaw tightens as anger surges through his body.

“I didn’t let you die the first time! What made you think I would let you fucking die right now, huh?” Y/N cries through gritted teeth, her hands balling into fists. “Stop trying to kill yourself. You fucking promised me!”

Licking his lips, Ben swallows. He’s quiet, running a palm over his face while his mind races a mile a minute. “Okay… alright,” he says finally, his voice significantly calmer now. “Where did you get the Compound V from?”

“There’s a lab here,” she replies in the same calm manner.

“They got more?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Ben nods and finds her eyes. “Show me.”

Y/N presses her lips into a thin line, shaking her head once more. “No.”

His anger returns, nostrils flaring as his brow creases. “What d’you mean no?”

She swallows thickly. “Look, if you really wanna do this, then I won’t stop you,” she says, a pleading glimmer haunting her eyes. “But you finally got a chance. You can live the normal, boring life. You can go on road trips, see Mount Rushmore… I know you want to.”

Ben swipes his tongue over his teeth and averts his gaze. He pinches the bridge of his freckled nose, and Y/N can see that she’s right.

“I’m not even sure if I want powers,” she continues after a pause. “But at least this time it was my choice. And I don’t regret it if it means I got to save you, okay?”

When Ben finally looks at her, it breaks her heart. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

Y/N gives him a sad smile. “I know… And you won’t be. I promise.”

Their attention is then temporarily drawn to a groan on the ground. Y/N’s brow furrows as she looks at Homelander’s body and notices his fingers twitching.

“Is he still alive?”

“Looks like it,” Ben replies. But as Y/N gets ready to take care of the problem, he stops her, holding out his flat palm. “Wait, wait, wait… Judging by the wound, he’s gonna be a fucking vegetable. It’s a waste of a kill.” He then grins mischievously at her. “I’ve got a better fucking idea. The other question is: how the fuck do we get outta this place… alive?”

Y/N’s mouth opens, but she doesn’t have an answer aside from a helpless shrug for him. This is as far as she has planned. Actually, she hasn’t planned any of this at all.

“I might be able to help with that,” a woman’s voice sounds behind her.

Y/N’s eyes widen as she recognizes the newcomer, her mouth parting anew in both surprise and shock. Ben, on the other hand, furrows his brow and glares at the stranger as if she had just spoken Russian.

“Who the fuck are you?” Ben prompts and then leans closer to Y/N, whispering in her ear, “Kill her.”

Y/N frowns, but her eyes are glued to the young woman in front of her, the familiarity sinking in. “I can’t,” she grits through her teeth.

“Why the fuck not?” Ben asks now loud enough for everyone to hear, including their guest.

“Because I’m the president,” the woman replies, smiling complacently. “And an old friend.”

Ben’s brow creases even more. “President of what? Cunt-town?”

“The United States, Ben,” Y/N tells him flatly. If she could kick his leg right now, she would. Leave it to her husband to get them both killed.

“Wait, a skirt is president?” Ben arches an eyebrow and mutters, “No wonder this country’s going to shit…”

“Charming,” Victoria Neuman says with a small sigh, but seemingly unbothered by the old-school views. Much like Y/N, she ignores the comment and doesn’t take offense to it. “I can see why you married him,” she adds wryly, looking at Y/N.

“Technically, she wasn’t elected. She was Vice President till President Singer died… accidentally,” Y/N explains, knowing Ben only reads the paper for the sports section and the comic strip. She swallows the thick lump in her throat, her heart thrashing wildly in her chest.

“Ah, I know what that’s code for.” Ben smirks coolly. “Bold move. I can fucking respect that.”

“Yeah, God knows some old fuck’s approval is what I’m looking for,” Neuman taunts, the sarcasm dripping from her red-painted lips.

Ben’s face drops as a bit of anger bubbles up inside of him. That bitch is lucky he’s V-free. He forces a tight-lipped smile. “I’m just saying I would’ve done the same thing, okay?”

“No offense, but you’re too much of a moron for that,” Neuman replies dryly.

Ben’s nostrils flare as he grits, “Offense fucking taken.”

“Okay!” Y/N tries to cut the tension with a nervous chuckle, pushing herself between Neuman and Ben. “How about you just tell us what we have to do to get out of this one?”

“See? She’s smart,” Neuman says and smirks at Ben. “I’ve always liked you, Y/N. You know, when Stan and Grace told me their plan of getting you two involved, I warned them. But they just wouldn’t listen. Everyone always underestimates the orphan. I should know, and so do you. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

“Yeah, guess we’re MVP, after all, Nadia,” Y/N says and makes it a point to emphasize her real name.

Victoria just smiles in response. “So, since you took care of two problems for me, one in here and one out there, I have a proposal for you.”

“What is it?” Y/N knows she’s really out of choices. Either she agrees, or Ben and her will spend the afterlife together.

“I need a new Chief of Staff. I want you to do it. You’re smart, driven, and I know you wanna change shit around here. You wanna make a difference? This is your chance,” Neuman proposes. “You can’t take the cure again. It’s going to kill you. Trust me, we’ve done studies, and the results are not pretty.”

Y/N thinks for a few breaths. “What about Ben?”

“I guess he can live. It’s not like he’s a threat to anyone,” Neuman says and almost sounds bored. “Hell, for all I care, we can even make Soldier Boy a reformed hero for dealing with Homelander. He dies heroically in battle and quietly lives out his retirement in fucking Florida or some shit. We get him a big fucking statue. It’s good publicity.”

Y/N shares a look with Ben. “What d’you think?”

Thoughtfully, Ben clicks his tongue. He supposes it’s the best deal they can get, and declining it would probably get them nowhere, although he hates everything about it.

Swallowing, the former supe nods. “Alright, let’s fucking do this,” he agrees and states his conditions, “But for the record, I’m not moving to shit-ass Florida. I want a nice lake house in Minnesota.”

Victoria rolls her eyes. “Fine, whatever. Minnesota it is.”

“You okay? You ready?” Y/N checks as Ben has made it up the stone steps and halts in front of the big, red door.

“I don’t know. You really think this is a good idea? I’m not sure I can do this,” Ben says and insecurely eyes the entrance.

“You’ll do great, alright?” Y/N smiles encouragingly. “I believe in you.”

“I don’t wanna do this alone. What if I fuck up?” Ben asks.

Amused, Y/N chuckles. “Oh, you’re for sure gonna fuck up.”

The green-eyed man scowls. “That’s fucking reassuring. Thanks.”

“Look, this way you won’t be alone. I’ll wire you money every month and check in as much as I can, alright? You can always call me. This isn’t the end,” Y/N soothes his worries. “Maybe one day there’s a cure that’ll work, and we can be together again for real.”

She forces a weak smile to her lips, although she doesn’t believe her own words. But as long as Ben believes them, it’s enough.

“Okay.” Ben nods and takes a deep breath – in through his nose and out through his mouth. “I think I’m ready now.”

“Good.” Y/N sends him a smile. “You thought of a new name yet?”

“I’m still marinating on it,” Ben grumbles.

“Well, marinate faster. I have to introduce you.”

As they enter the orphanage, Y/N checks them in at the reception and fills out all necessary forms. Ben taps his foot nervously and scratches the back of his neck as they wait before one of Y/N’s former colleagues walks in with a little boy in hand, who’s no older than five.

Ben tries to smile but isn’t sure if it looks creepy, so he stops and opts for a more neutral expression. Y/N, however, immediately kneels down to the young boy and smiles brightly at him. It causes Ben’s heart to ache. She deserved to have all of this, but instead, she gave it all up for him.

“Hey, Benny,” she greets the boy. “You ready to meet your new adoptive parent?”

The boy scrunches his brow in careful suspicion as he eyes his future father-to-be. “I guess so,” he says. “Is that him? He looks like he drives a fucking minivan and offers candy to kids. Are you sure he’s not a pedo, Ms. Y/N?”

Ben purses his lips, biting the insides of his cheeks. The initial smile was definitely a mistake. They’re not off to a good start.

Y/N presses her lips together to muffle her snort. “Yes, Benny, I’m sure,” she replies patiently. “He’s cool, trust me.”

“Fine, whatever.” The kid rolls his eyes. “As long as he’s not fucking vegan like Ms. Teresa. They’re the worst.”

“Ugh, agreed! Do I look like a fucking plant-shitter to you?” Ben asks the boy rhetorically.

“No, you look like a fucking pedo to me,” the boy retorts.

Ben grins broadly at Y/N. “I like the kid. I think I get what you mean now. I see the resemblance.”

“Well, great. Glad you two are hitting it off… I think,” Y/N says with a crinkled brow, although a part of her is doubting her idea. Honestly, it’s wild she’s trusting him with a child. A year ago she would’ve thought that it was insane. “Alright, uh, Benny, this is, uhm–”

“Sam,” Ben proudly introduces himself with his fake name and shakes the kid’s hand. He then notices Y/N’s strange look. “What?”

“Nothing, just… you don’t really strike me as a Sam. That’s all,” she tells him in a whisper-tone, shrugging.

“Oh, really? Well, I don’t give a fuck. I love it,” Ben quips, grinning rather smugly.

“Fine.” Y/N sighs. She turns back to little Ben with a smile. “You guys ready to hit the road?”

“Where are we going?” Benny asks curiously and promptly takes Ben’s hand, dragging the older man through the doors. He’s been waiting to get out of the orphanage for a while, the excitement of finally being able to leave visible in every step he takes.

It’s a fresh start for both of them.

“Uh, Mount Rushmore,” Ben answers.

“Cool! Can we get burgers on the way there? I’m starving.”

“Sure can, kid.”

Y/N can see Ben’s initial hesitance until he eventually accepts it and eases into the situation, holding the boy’s hand tightly. He helps the kid into the car, even puts the seatbelt on, and shuts the door behind him.

Her heart twinges as she watches the two, wishing she could go with them if things were different. However, she knows the risk is too big. She would never forgive herself if she hurt either of them. She doesn’t trust herself enough yet. Maybe someday she can.

“You okay?” Ben asks as he sees the unshed tears brimming in her eyes. He’d dreaded this day for the past few weeks, hoping she’d still change her mind. He hates that this is goodbye, but he supposes he has to set her free now.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Y/N says with a forced smile, but a tear escapes and rolls down her cheek.

“C’mere.”

Y/N protests as Ben slings his arms around her and pulls her flush against him, holding her tightly. He hasn’t touched her since that night, but he doesn’t care anymore. He presses his lips against hers and tastes her one last time.

Breathlessly, Y/N withdraws and sniffles. “Are you fucking insane? I could kill you.”

Ben simply smiles at her. “Hey, if I die kissing you, then that’s a fucking great way to go out. ‘Sides, insanity is contagious,” he quips and sends her a wink. “Thank you… for everything, you know?”

“You’re welcome,” she says quietly and swallows harshly as the tears fall freely now. Not every film has a happy ending. “I guess I’ve done my job as your sponsor. You’ve been successfully rehabilitated.”

Ben snorts. “If by that you mean I’m fucking boring and responsible now then yeah, you’ve done your job.”

“You won’t be bored for long. The kid’s already trying to hotwire the car,” Y/N tells him, laughing.

“Wha–” Ben spins around and points a warning finger at the boy. “Ay! Hands in your fucking lap!”

The kid raises his palms in surrender and yells, “Hurry the fuck up!”

With a shaking head, Ben turns back to her. “Gotta watch that kid like an eagle,” he mutters. He exhales a dreaded breath and licks his lips. “So, I guess this is goodbye, huh?”

Y/N smiles softly, the corners of her mouth reaching her dimples. “Maybe.”

Little Ben gets me every time 😂 Alright, now you may yell and complain, but I love this bittersweet ending 🥲 (But of course, you're welcome to send in requests. Whether it's deleted scenes, bonus shots of a potential future, or some fun Big Ben/Little Ben drabbles)

Thank you so much for reading, for your gifs and comments! It's so appreciated! Without them, this would only be half the fun 🤍

I'll announce future plans soon. The final five of Plastic Hearts will probably be next up. Get ready 'cause it's another wild one! 🌟

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @imsapphine @globetrotter28

Series Tags: @nancymcl @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @sparkydonugh

#rehab #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy reader insert #the boys reader insert #the boys x reader #the boys amazon #the boys season 3 #the boys fanfic #soldier boy fanfic

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erinkeifer · 5 months

Text

ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕔𝕠𝕕𝕖 - ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕍

[Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Fem Reader]

Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 Not My Code Masterlist

Summary: On the day of your knighting, you find yourself forced to confront someone you absolutely do not want to see—at least not in Anakin's company. The presence of your Master's ex-wife at the ceremony has a hidden agenda, but whatever she aims to achieve, you want to be one step ahead.

Warnings: angst | jealousy | kissing | satisfying ending Author Note: This time, there won't be anything spicy, but let's raise the suspense a bit! We'll delve into some intrigue, but in the end, I hope the conclusion will be satisfying.

Word Count: 3k

The absence of your Padawan's braid behind your ear was a strange feeling, but even though you often complained about how it irritated you and visually ruined your best hairstyles, you held it in your hands with a hint of nostalgia. It marked the end of a very significant chapter in your life, but also the gateway to something, you hope, much better. The ceremony was beautiful and atmospheric, with surprisingly many guests—not just those you invited through your friendly droid, but also a few important senators, the Chancellor himself... And... Well, speaking of senators... You knew Padmé Amidala would show up at the ceremony—it wasn't a surprise to you. However, you consistently pushed that awareness to the back of your mind, not allowing thoughts of that 'first encounter' to trouble you. You didn't look in her direction during the ceremony—your gaze was probing Anakin, who, in turn, didn't even turn his head toward her, which buoyed your spirits. After the ceremony, you exchanged handshakes and accepted congratulations from guests alongside your Master, who proudly accompanied you throughout. Once you made sure to thank everyone for their attendance, you directed your guests to Dex's diner, reserved for you and your party that evening. "Are we not all going together?" Obi-Wan asked, standing with Anakin in the temple foyer. "Go ahead, I'll catch up with you in a moment; I just need to change into something more comfortable." you replied with a smile, gesturing to your elaborately adorned, albeit uncomfortable, outfit worn during the knighting. "Ten minutes, and we'll be toasting without you, Ma'am." Kenobi summarized, eliciting laughter from you and Skywalker, before slowly making their way toward the exit. "Um, Anakin!?" you called out while the two were still within your reach. "Yes?" Skywalker turned toward you. "Do you have the reservation confirmation with you? Just in case." you asked, and Anakin pulled a paper badge from his belt. "Better safe than sorry." he replied with a smile, to which you nodded and smiled back. With this brief exchange, you went your separate ways. .................................................................................................................. Obi-Wan and Anakin walked in silence until they entered one of the lifts in a spacious corridor. "What was that?" Kenobi suddenly asked, pulling Skywalker out of his reverie. "What do you mean, Master?" he asked, trying to figure out what had caused such a puzzled expression on Obi-Wan's face. "You didn't insult each other, neither of you called the other an idiot or showed the middle finger, and to top it off, it's the first time I've heard her call you by your first name." Kenobi clarified, crossing his arms in an 'appraising' manner. "Did I do something wrong?" Skywalker asked rhetorically. "No, but any deviation from the norm—in your case, Anakin—especially surprises me." Obi-Wan replied, maintaining his posture. "I'm just putting into practice what you taught me, Master." added Anakin, smiling proudly at Kenobi. "Should I be afraid?" asked Obi-Wan, even more bewildered, though surprised. "Who knows?" Skywalker added with a hint of irony as the lift doors began to open. The two walked through the deserted ground floor of the temple, which was a straight path to the exit. "I had something to ask you... How are you feeling?" Kenobi suddenly inquired, taking advantage of the moment. "I don't quite understand." Skywalker expressed confusion this time. "It's the first time in a very long time when, you know... the Senator is our guest. I know you've been through rough times, and..."

"Answering your question, Master... I feel better than ever." Anakin interrupted, surprising Kenobi slightly, but internally delighted because the answer to this question—especially recently—hadn't been an easy one for his apprentice. Obi-Wan regularly posed this question to him, but today, for the first time, he received a determined answer, a response he had been waiting for a long time, perhaps signaling that a painful phase in Anakin's life was finally becoming clear. "Well... So I guess we'll raise a toast for that as well today." Kenobi added after a moment of silence, and Anakin turned towards him, exchanging a subtle smile. Soon, the duo reached the exit of the temple, and before them stood the crew waiting by the doors, ready to accompany the two Generals to the diner. "Finally, so, are we ready to roll?" Rex shouted, gesturing towards Anakin and Obi-Wan. "This is where the fun begins." Skywalker whispered to Kenobi, and both with smiles, headed towards the crew. ..................................................................................................................

In the meantime, in the absence of the others, you managed to change your outfit in Anakin's quarters, where you had left your more comfortable attire the day before. Along the way, you decided to bring R2 with you, who had been on guard duty. Once you had smoothed your hair and touched up your nose for the rest of the evening, you closed the door behind you and the droid. With brisk steps, you made your way along the corridor leading to the lifts. At a certain point, you noticed that the door to one of the guest quarters was ajar, and the dead silence in the hall allowed you to hear the conversation emanating from it. Intrigued by the sound, you stopped. Perhaps you wouldn't have done so if the feminine voice coming from the room didn't sound so dramatic, and perhaps you wouldn't have done so if the room for the night didn't belong to Padmé.

"Maybe you should at least try? If you don't try, you'll never know."

"But how? I can't just approach him and say, 'Hey, let's try again.'"

"But we both know you came here today just to talk to him."

"I know... But I was hoping he'd be the one to approach me first, but he didn't even look at me."

"You can't keep thinking this way forever..."

The eavesdropped conversation ended at this point, and you couldn't steady the trembling of your hands. The overheard words made your blood boil, and you prayed just to manage to keep that feeling inside because Padmé and her handmaiden, with whom she was conversing, were just coming out of the quarters. "Oh... Hello, it's been so long..." Padmé said with a slightly surprised expression when she saw you standing a few steps in front of the door from which she emerged. For a long time, you had the habit of bowing, greeting formally and respectfully when it came to politicians - but now, you didn't even blink. "Do you happen to know if Anakin is in..." "He's not there." you replied before Padmé could finish her question, to which the woman next to her reacted with a somewhat confused expression. "Oh, I see... Were you looking for him too?" she asked, aware that not everyone had the right to enter private quarters in the Temple. "I came to get R2." you replied with a stony face, beneath which a hint of pride could be discerned, a pride that only you could feel. "Oh." Padmé let out a short sigh, tinged with a hint of uncertainty, and being sure that this was all the senator needed from you, you moved ahead. "Uh, wait, please..." even though you would rather keep going, not wanting to build such a dramatic aura around you, you stopped and turned your head toward her. "Congratulations on your new title. I always knew you were capable." You paused for a moment, hearing those words, and forced a fake smile, looking at both women. "Sure. I mean... Thank you. And now, Senator, I apologize, but I have to go. They're waiting for me." Without waiting for 'permission,' you moved away, and Padmé just nodded, slightly embarrassed, and went with her handmaiden in the opposite direction. Walking, you replayed Amidala's words in your head. Nasty lies that you wouldn't even buy as a child, because you knew well that she never cared about your development under Anakin's wing. All that concerned her was his time spent with you, the energy she claimed you were "stealing from him," and the attention she expected but never reciprocated. Jealousy mixed with fear gnawed at you from the inside – you tried to be confident, tried to think about how Anakin ignored her – but you couldn't stop entertaining dark scenarios. What if he yielded? What if he gave her a chance? What if her plan was cleverer than yours? The one you were just putting the finishing touches on in your mind because, after all this, you have to prove who's playing the first violin here. Oh, you didn't even care how dangerous it was in terms of the Jedi Code at the moment; why should it concern you now? Are you supposed to give up and not sleep peacefully? No way. ..................................................................................................................

Your little 'after-party' helped you calm down significantly. When you entered the venue, Anakin sensed your conflicting emotions, but as you sat next to each other, unnoticed by others, he subtly ran his finger along your thigh, signaling that everything was okay and you shouldn't stress. Of course, he didn't know the exact reasons for your mood, but he felt enough to help comfort you. The reception went in a truly festive atmosphere—there were 'uncle' jokes from Obi-Wan, who, after a few deep glasses, had everyone in tears of laughter, and toasts in honor of you and your master, which you lost count of after a few hours. Everyone was getting themselves together and extending their stay, led by Kenobi, whom Rex was helping to stand on two legs. However, you and Anakin decided to slip away to the temple quarters. "But promise me it's nothing scary!" you said, laughing, as you ran after Anakin to his apartment. "I promise, I promise!" Anakin replied, amused by your suspicion. Your hasty escape from the party was initiated by Anakin—he told you he had a gift for you and had been waiting for this day specifically. Throughout the journey to the temple, you kept bombarding Skywalker with questions to which he didn't want to answer because, after all, it was a surprise. "Ugh! Can you at least tell me where we're going?" you asked impatiently and breathlessly, trying to keep up with Anakin's brisk pace. "To my quarters!" he replied, winking at you. "Really? I was there before the reception, and I saw nothing..." "That means the hideout was a success." Anakin replied, maliciously picking up the pace. "Damn it!" you muttered, running after your master and catching your breath every now and then. When you reached the door and the squealing R2-D2, who was also experiencing a pace crisis today, Anakin quickly opened the door, and everyone enthusiastically stepped inside. "Okay, now just stand here and turn around... Unless I blindfold you with something." Anakin said, pointing towards the corner by the door where you were supposed to stand facing away. "Okay, I'd rather just turn around. Let's save that for another occasion." you said with a cheeky smile, which Skywalker reciprocated, and you did as he instructed, turning around and putting your hands behind your back. Anakin stepped back, ensuring that you weren't peeking. Satisfied that you were obedient, he approached one of the hidden compartments in his apartment. You heard behind you the sound of... metal? and heavy, lowering doors, but you patiently waited for the signal to turn around. "Ready?" Anakin asked, his voice filled with excitement. "Like never before." you smiled widely but still kept your eyes on the wall in front of you. "So?" Instead of giving a command, Anakin came over to you. With a gentle move, he grabbed your arms, maneuvering your body so you could turn around and see what he had prepared for you. "Congratulations, Jedi Knight." he whispered tenderly into your ear, and your eyes widened at the sight of the gift. "Is this... QT-KT?" you put your hand over your mouth, unable to believe what you were seeing. "In the flesh." Anakin replied, joyfully watching your reaction. "What did you..." you started, approaching the droid, which was slowly activating. "I tinkered with it a bit, gave it some attention, polished it a bit... Well, and I reprogrammed it just for you." Skywalker answered before you could finish your question. "Are you telling me you did this... for me? Am I to understand that this is my droid?" you asked, looking at your master with immense surprise and affection. "Yes, indeed. I've been planning it for some time and decided that today would be the right day to give you this little surprise." he replied, joyfully watching you test the functions of your new droid. Finally, you stood up from a kneeling position, and still in disbelief, you took a few steps toward the large window in the room.

"Anakin... I... I don't know what to say..." you held your head, turning to Skywalker with a broad smile. Without saying anything, Anakin came over to you and, turning you towards him, embraced you around the waist, and at that moment, your foreheads touched. "I really don't know how to thank you." you whispered, looking into his eyes, and Anakin hugged you very tightly—due to your height difference—almost lifting you off the floor. "Just... Be here... With me." hearing those words, not knowing why, you pulled away from Anakin's arm to look him in the eyes. "Do you mean... Today?" you asked, wanting to dispel your doubts. "Today..." he left a single kiss on your lips. "Tomorrow..." he kissed your lips twice. "Always." he concluded, pressing his lips to yours in a overwhelming, long kiss. Your heart pounded like a hammer hearing those words... Or rather, THAT word... Your embrace was still very strong, but suddenly you looked aside, through the glass where until now you could mostly see the beautiful, night sky of Coruscant, illuminated by many stars. Without saying anything more, you gently released yourself from Skywalker's embrace and stood by the window, collecting your scattered thoughts. Anakin's words not only ignited you from the inside, not only melted your heart, but also indicated that the time had come. The time to execute your plan. "Can I...?" turning your head to Anakin, you pointed to the open entrance to the terrace. "Sure." Skywalker smiled, gesturing as if to say 'make yourself at home.' Returning his expression, you went to the terrace, and although for the first few moments, you looked around at the starry sky, your goal was entirely different—and you had it in the palm of your hand. Anakin was still inside, clicking something with your new droid when you had a moment to look around on your own. It didn't take much for your muscles to tense with determination—your eyes landed on the guest terrace, which for the night was at Padmé's disposal, and it was none other than Amidala standing outside, leaning against the railing, watching the movements of night Coruscant. She didn't see you. Not yet. But your plan was clear and straightforward—she had to see you, and you had to act. Now or never.

"In moments like these, I truly appreciate this place... It can be genuinely beautiful here. Despite the war... the fear..." you began speaking slowly, trying to capture Anakin's attention as his slow steps approached you. He walked with his hands casually folded behind his back, a smile on his face, and you heightened your senses. You were waiting for the moment when you'd feel the gaze on you—this time not Anakin's but from the nearly adjacent terrace. Your ability to sense glances was always highly developed—you excelled in it even more than Anakin himself, so at least in this regard, you sometimes managed to protect him on the battlefield. Now, you felt somewhat like you were on a battlefield, waiting for the right moment to use it and do it in the best possible style. But to gain it, you needed to first capture attention. "Today is exceptionally beautiful here." Anakin said, gently embracing you from behind. "Because you're here." You grabbed his hands, which were tenderly spread over your stomach, and your eyes almost sparkled from the heard words. Suddenly, you decided to turn face to face with Skywalker and placed your hands on his neck. "I'll be by your side..." you whispered, watching his eyes scan every inch of your face. "As long as you want." you finished, being so close to him that you could feel his every breath on your lips. This moment was so priceless for you that you momentarily forgot about your plan, but when it returned to your mind, you once again heightened your senses. Touching Anakin's face and looking into his hungry-for-kisses eyes, you began to take small steps backward, as if you were about to lean against the fountain wall in the middle of the terrace. However, none of your movements were without purpose. Already almost leaning against the stone wall, you initiated stumbling over the flat platform separating the fountain from the rest of the space. Hitting the surface with your heel, you produced a dull sound that, you were sure, reached not only the ears of the two of you. You didn't have to lower your eyes from Anakin to know. To feel that HER gaze landed at the source. That she's already onto you. "Kiss me." you whispered to Anakin, when he, taking advantage of the new position, leaned you against the fountain wall and threw himself onto your lips in a passionate kiss. Padmé froze, not believing the sight before her eyes. Not believing that her mission failed so miserably. She watched. She watched as her ex-husband kissed you with a passion he might never have given her. She watched as you touched him as if he were yours, and he touched you as if you were his. When she almost ran inside, you smiled in the ongoing kiss, knowing that your intrigue had succeeded. You touched him as if he were yours. He touched you as if you were his. Because you were his. And he was yours.

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nebulablakemurphy · 1 year

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Moves & Countermoves (Part 5)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Warning: this chapter contains mentions of the horrors Snow inflicts on ‘desirable’ victors, nothing graphic but could still be upsetting to some readers. Proceed with caution.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Damn it,” Haymitch curses, taking a long swig from his glass.

Katniss is inches away from literally becoming the girl on fire. Sprinting through the raging flames as foliage and trees block her way.

“Why are they doing that?” Y/N tugs anxiously at the sleeve of his jacket.

“She’s too close to the edge.” They need to turn her around, but the fire balls are for show.

“Not now.” The gamemakers have chased her well back into the tree line. “Why aren’t they stopping?”

“I don’t know.” Haymitch huffs, “I have as much control over this as you do.”

“We need a sponsor.”

“To send her what exactly? A fire extinguisher?”

Remember who the real enemy is.

“I’m sorry.”

Y/N shakes her head, “it’s fine.” Haymitch is direct and abrasive, he does not sugarcoat. There are times when she wants that, needs it even.

“I was dismissive.” For all she was his protégé, she is now his equal. Old habits die hard, the places where they are joined bleed into one another.

“No, you were right.”

Things in the arena have calmed down, Katniss nursing a burn to her thigh. Stumbling back to the river, finding a moment’s relief before the careers and Peeta spot her.

“I’ll keep an eye on things here if you wanna go work the crowd,” if they’re gonna kill Katniss, Haymitch doesn’t want her to watch.

“I’ll wait till it’s done.”

You stubborn thing, let me spare you; just once.

Despite her injury, Katniss scales her way to the top of a tree which the careers can’t seem to shake her from.

“Let’s just wait her out,” Peeta suggests, “she has to come down sometime. It’s that or starve to death. We’ll kill her then.”

Cato contemplates for a moment, “ok.” He shrugs, “somebody make a fire.”

“Now go,” Haymitch insists, “she needs something for that burn. I’ll man the fort. Go, be great.” He pecks her cheek in parting.

Y/N stands, dragging sweaty palms down the front of her dress. Passing the betting pool on her right. They smile and wave. The victor forces her best grin, spotting one of the more generous patrons and locking eyes.

The man shakes his head at the whistling of those beside him. He’s been chosen.

“How’ve you been?” Y/N plucks two champagne flutes off the serving tray as it passes. Their contents a dark blue.

He smirks, accepting the offering. “I know your game, little minx. Tell me what you want.”

“Something for my tribute’s burn.”

“You’d think the girl on fire would be used to it.”

Y/N huffs a laugh.

“How much is this going to cost me?” That’s the real question, isn’t it?

“Two thousand.” Play money for someone like him.

“Greedy, greedy.” He tuts, fishing for his wallet.

“You’ll make double that if you bet on her.”

The Capitol man cocks his head of green curls. Y/N is beautiful, not in the way his wife is. Understated, but never overlooked and though she dresses the part, she will never fit in. Standing out like a neon sign among the masses. A humming live wire. “You seem confident.”

“She’s demonstrated better survival skills than half the tributes from one and two. Besides, you’ve always been generous.”

“Because I like you. Dare I say, we’re friends.”

“We are friends.” You’ve been good to me, kind even.

“Most people here are looking for a bit more than friendship from someone like you. A few of my colleagues would so love to meet you.” It’s not meant to be an insult, but it stings all the same. “Do be careful, little minx. Take my money and run.”

————————————————————————

When Katniss receives the parachute with a note that reads ‘apply generously and stay alive. -Y/N & Haymitch,’ she wonders how far away the arena is from the tribute center. Is it just beyond reach, separated by a dome of tech?

What would her mentors say now, without all of Panem to see? If only she could talk to them, just one more time. To be comforted by Y/N, scolded by Haymitch even. Scooping a bit of goop from the container onto her wound, it soothes the ache. “Thank you.”

————————————————————————

Nights are the hardest, in and out of the arena. If a tribute needs something after hours, they’d have to wait until the viewing room opens the next day. Y/N insists the games stay on, the feed streaming to district twelve, broadcast over the exterior wall of their room in the tribute center.

“You gonna fill me in on what the hell’s going on?” Haymitch asks, keeping his distance for now.

“The kids are sleeping, no cannon for a while now.”

“I didn’t mean the games.”

She knows that. “Haymitch.” His name is choked, so different from the way he’s used to hearing it.

His tumbler clunks down on the bedside table. “Come here,” he clambers onto the bed, still fully clothed from the day. “Come here.”

She worms her way into his open arms and sobs. Wracking both of them with the force of it.

“I’ve got you,” he breathes, trying to absorb some of her pain.

She cries herself to sleep, even as Haymitch hushes her. Breath hitching in her throat, the terrible way that turns his stomach. When she stills, the front of his shirt caught in her fist, Haymitch dozes off. Waking to the sound of her screams, pushing at him, desperate to free herself.

“It’s me,” he pulls back enough for her to see with her own eyes. “It’s just me.”

Y/N cups his face in her hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I love you.

She tells him of her conversation with Cashmere and the sponsor. How afraid she is that pay per views aren’t going to keep these people entertained forever. Eventually they will get tired of watching them, they’ll want to be with them; and neither she nor Haymitch will be able to say no. “If Katniss lives, they’d do it to her too.” Just like Finnick and Gloss and Cashmere, all the others before them. “They’ll do it to her too.”

Haymitch gentles her with pretty lies. ‘He’ll sort this out.’ They will have to pry you from my cold, dead, hands.

————————————————————————

Little Rue, from district eleven, is also quite the climber. Making her way to the tree closest Katniss and drawing her attention to a tracker jacker nest a few feet up. If she’s able to drop it down on the careers, she might take out one or two. At the very least, cause enough of a distraction to get away.

Y/N watches on bated breath as Katniss begins sawing through the branch with her knife. People of the viewing room hiss each time Katniss is stung. Letting out a collective cheer when the hive falls, sending the careers and Peeta scattering. All but Glimmer, who catches the brunt of their stings.

Haymitch shifts. I’ll be damned, you might actually make it out alive, sweetheart.

Peeta circles around, after the cannon sounds, leaving Katniss with the bow and arrow. “Katniss, go! Run! Get out of here. What are you doing?”

She blinks at him slowly, effects of the tracker jacker venom dulling her senses. Putting enough distance between herself and the tree with the body underneath before falling into the brush. Plagued by images of days gone by.

Part 6

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @officialjellydoughnut @whoreforfictionalpeople @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902

#haymitch abernathy fanfic #haymitch fanfic #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch x y/n #haymitch abernathy #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch abernathy x reader #the hunger games #hunger games fanfiction #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #moves & countermoves

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belit0 · 9 months

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What if Indra and Madara have a wife that really loves her kids, she also yells at him when he's been too mean and defends her kids with her life😭 I hope Indra doesn't throw hands😭💀

Noooo, Indra may be a terrible yandere, but he knows better than to be a woman-beating coward!🙏🙏🙏

I love all requests involving the Uchiha as fathers, please keep sending me them!! It's beautiful to see them in environments that don't involve war and destruction, and being fatherly love figures😭❣️

Indra

- He loves (Y/N) with all his little heart will allow, but getting involved with the way he handles the upbringing of his children is a big NO. He will use an iron fist to forge kids who know how to stand up for themselves if necessary, and if she has anything to say about it, they will fight. Papa Indra is a great and fearsome figure of respect to whom no argument is countered and orders are obeyed (for his children, (Y/N) fearlessly ignore this).

- His wife will be present at all training, and will try to reduce Otsutsuki's severity altogether. If she expected him to be gentle because it is about his own children, she is wrong. It will drive her crazy when she sees her little ones flying through the air because daddy is too tough, and she scolds him in front of them.

- Indra is deeply insulted by how (Y/N) tries to diminish his authority before the kids, and they engage in a quarrel that lasts for weeks. Eventually, they come to an agreement, where she doesn't mess with his ways, but he is a little less severe. When the infants turn 10, he can treat them as he pleases, but not until that age.

- He focuses on an infant-friendly regimen, which even for (Y/N) is still too demanding, and on many occasions he has to put up with her nagging and watching her drag the children away from him in her arms.

- She is so overprotective, her own kids are the ones who return with him to the training ground after escaping their mother's watchful eye, and ask him to continue with their activities. Indra smiles proudly and restrains himself, as he appreciates his sons also want to spend time with him.

- He's not the best father, but he tries.

Madara

- He can't be hard on them, he adores them so much he can't even scold them when they deserve it. In fact, Madara is the permissive father his children ask for everything first because they know he will say yes, afterwards going to confront their mother with daddy's confirmation in advance to argue their case.

- He refuses to be the one training them. He considers himself a very tough and pushy person with the workouts he prefers to give, and could never treat his little ones that way. He ends up asking Izuna to take over, and (Y/N) scolding the young Uchiha when he gets too hard on them.

- The few times he had to scold one of them for making a mess, he did it guiltily. In his children he sees the souls of those brothers he lost as a child, and he can't be mean to them. He lets them do whatever they want, and if Mom comes back to find a mess at home because Dad didn't set limits, Madara will be reprimanded along with his children as if they were all the same age.

- In one special situation, his children made a big disaster while (Y/N) was not at home. At that point he realized he should put his foot down because his children see him more as an accomplice than a figure of respect, and he goes a bit overboard with his scolding. His kids are slightly traumatized, and know not to push their luck when it comes to their father.

- He rarely yells at them, and beyond that particular time, he did so only one other time. In front of (Y/N), he berated his boys vehemently, and it was she who yelled at him at the time for being "too hard on my babies!" (as if she wasn't...). Madara chose to abide by the commander's orders and remain silent.

- Good father, with a lot of effort.

#madara uchiha x reader #uchiha madara x reader #madara x reader #indra otsutsuki x reader #otsutsuki indra x reader #indra x reader #madara uchiha #uchiha madara #madara #otsutsuki indra #indra otsutsuki #indra #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto imagines #uchiha clan #naruto x reader #naruto scenarios

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saintmuses · 2 months

Text

❝𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮𝙡𝙤𝙣❞

Pairing:

Matthew Joy x Chase!Reader

Summary:

When he moved to a house next to Owen Chase and his wife after Essex journey; he was not expecting to see Owen’s sister -who he liked very much- as she thundered towards him in a mess of wild hair and a dress men like him would die to see her in.

Warning(s): SMUT. Age gap (Reader is in her early 20s and Matthew is in his late 20s/early 30s). Voyeuristic themes (???). Fingering. P in V. Flashbacks in italics. Minors, DNI! Note: This happened after the events of the movie, but Matthew is still alive. Some scenes are inspired by Reign.

Word Count: 4.9k

Nantucket, 1820

The water splattered when the rocks that Y/N had previously chosen were thrown in the water with a vicious intent exposing her frustration at her brother, Owen.

Standing at the water’s edge, she wrapped her arms around her frame to guard herself from a slight chill that held over the country.

Archie, her dog was suddenly barking, and the noise drew her attention to the side to see the golden-brown animal running towards the edge of the woods.

"Archie," she scolded him, her voice raised slightly. Gripping onto her skirts in reaction of concern once she saw him disappearing into the dark shadows of the trees. "No, come back!" She called out frantically, lifting her skirts slightly to run after her dog. "Archie!"

Her feet pounded into the ground as she ran towards the edge of the woods. "Archie, come back!" She called out again with a desperate twinge in her voice.

Before she could enter the woods, she felt large hands gripping her arm, swinging her around to face a man who appeared out of nowhere, except his strength overwhelmed her that she barreled into his firm chest instead.

She gasped inaudibly as she stumbled back with his hands gripping her arms to steady her. Her eyes peering out under her lashes, to see the man with medium dark brown hair curling at the base of his neck, and her eyes flickered down to his chest to see it was covered with white collared work billow shirt.

Although she could see the little gold earring on his left ear in her peripheral vision.

She had never seen him before, granted she lived here for a long while; However, the way he was dressed, he might have been in the same circle as her brother.

"Are you alright? People like you do not leave the land unattended." He said firmly, gripping her upper arms with gentle icy eyes.

She turned her gaze away to the woods, hoping her dog would show up, "but my dog..." she trailed off, meeting his eyes once again.

She felt his hands loosened before letting her arms go, "let him go." His eyes softened at what she was sure, concern on her face, in her eyes. "You cannot go into those woods alone." He said softly while his eyes conveyed seriousness that she couldn't help but to ask.

"Why not?" She asked, "what's in those woods?" Looking aside to observe the darkness that gripped the woods, "besides my dog who I might've caught if you hadn't stopped me." She then narrowed her eyes at him after turning her face to his.

"He'll find his way back." He said it with a mere smirk, "there's dinner." His eyes trailed off to behind her, indicating the house. "Who wouldn't want to be at the house where there’s food?" She then looked down at his statement, "except, perhaps, you." He said almost incredulously, "rather be running in the woods, would you?" His eyes flickered with amusement, "trudging through mud?"

Her eyes flashed with fire, "I quite like the way mud feels under my feet." Her voice was made of steel, defending her reasoning to be outside.

"Maybe you'll be sent to a covenant.” He said lightly, with a gentle hint of teasing in his depths. "For being a wild woman.” Shooting for an insult but missing the mark with the wide smile that colored his tone.

She looked at him in shock, "you're cheeky." She murmured.

"And you're upset about more than your dog taking a little jaunt into the wild." He took a step back, "what is it, darling?" He asked.

Her breathing hitched slightly, clearing her throat. "You should ask my brother," she scoffed, her tone expressed irritation as she narrowed her eyes once again.

"Ask him what?"

"Why he's such a moody arrogant ass." She said boldly, looking at the wood structure that was built as a home.

He smiled with amusement in his depths when she looked back to him.

"I find myself not inclined to ask him. Maybe you'll find my presence who would be interested in sharing your discontent with your brother after knowing why." He offered, a mask of indifference slipped on his face, looking at her before looking towards the woods.

"You know him?" She sounded surprised.

“Aye,” His mask of indifference faded away, “we have been on ships together, hunting for whale oils. I will be his ship second mate for Essex. Spending that much time would of course cause fission between us and we would have minor disputes because of it.”

"My apologies, but what I would like to know is..." she trailed off, looking over him and his clothing. "Who are you?" She asked softly, clasping her fingers together.

"I am Matthew." He introduced himself, "and I'll find your dog. I have an inkling of knowing where he might be at." He said with seriousness that outranked her brother's seriousness. “What is your name?”

“Y/N.” She said softly while the blood filled her cheeks as a sign of timidity, and he murmured her name which was spun sugar melting on his tongue.

It tasted like flowers; like the dandelions children would find in the vast fields when they would use their tiny hands and pull the stem away from the soil. They eventually would get curious by the bright color and would wonder about what they taste like.

Only her name was more sweeter than the flavor children would get in their mouths from the dandelions.

“I will find your dog if you go inside,” he said, raising his eyebrows, knowing it would prompt her to listen.

A smile tugged his lips as he stared at Y/N before looking down to the dirt ground when she opened the back door of the house.

She was untouchable in the vast wasteland out of Nantucket.

1821

Her brother had made it home last week after a long journey and had informed her to set up a room at the guest house for his friend who was coming this week for the duration of his stay. She did not question him, just relieved that he was alive albeit with a haunted look in his eyes.

Today had been a pleasant day, although not without a slight argument between her and Owen about her betrothal.

She was humming a soft tune her sister-in-law had used on her niece whenever she needed a nap.

Archie barked; the tone was filled with excitement. She was startled as he began to run out of the door of the guest house, and down the stairs, before she can even think to stop him.

Squinting, she peered out of the window to make out the lone figure sitting on the tree stump by the water’s edge, feeling her heart almost skipped a beat when realizing who it was.

Matthew.

She found herself following Archie, bare feet thumping against the floor as she bolted out of the guest house, the door creaked loudly, hearing the dirt shuffling as her feet hit the pathway after running down the stairs the same way Archie had.

She could tell the sounds of her footsteps pounding on the ground and Archie’s barking had caught his attention due to the tilting of his head before turning his head towards her until he realized she was running towards him.

He disembarked himself from the tree stump, squinting at her through the sunlight that was soon to set below the horizons.

She could tell he recognized her as he spread his arms apart, and she ran into his familiar arms. He hoisted her, holding her close, as her arms wrap around his neck and his chuckle sounded breathless in her ear.

“I didn’t know you would be here, Matthew,” she said his name breathlessly, looking into bright blue eyes before bringing her face to his neck, her arms tightening around his shoulders. She missed him more than she could ever admit, but the way he held her to him gave his inner thoughts away just the same as he burrowed his face in the juncture of her neck.

“I know, darling,” he murmured against her skin, squeezing her waist hard before placing her onto the tree stump next to him as he sat down.

“How long are you going to stay for?” Her tone sounded eager. The first time he was here was before they boarded Essex journey and he only stayed for about a week. She was secretly praying that he was going to stay longer than that.

His eyes shined with unbridled softness reserved for her. “However long you want me to stay for,” his lips curled into a soft smile.

She giggled, “that is a dangerous statement.” Her eyes landed on the scar etched in his skin around the scalp, and she frowned. “How did you get that?”

“A nasty wound from the battle with the whale,” he said shortly, giving her a small smile.

She looked at him while he bent over to the side slightly, and she noticed his satchel propped against the wood when he reached down for it. Unbinding it with his hand to take out an object, and she saw him holding a flask that was bound with leather.

"I could use some of that." Offering her hand out for the leather flask, she looked at him expectantly. She could tell he didn’t want the liquid that was in his hand.

Looking at her with an unreadable expression, "is everything alright?" He handed her the flask before putting his hands on his knees.

"No, it isn't." She said softly, feeling the thick leather, and raised it to her lips. She tilted the flask, and the liquid poured into her mouth; she then swallowed it and winced at the burn as it inflicted on her throat. "I don't know how you can tolerate this."

He looked at her with a hint of amusement in his depths, "I haven’t drunk a single drop of alcohol since I almost died outside of the pub in the town many moons ago.” He gestured towards the flask. “I found a bottle of it on the ship before Essex sunk into the ocean and took it with me. Almost drank it.”

“Then why do you carry it with you?”

He hesitated, clearly it was a story he rarely told especially to someone like her. “To serve me as a reminder, I suppose. Of how far I have come.” He gave her a soft bitter smile. “Still doesn't make the temptation any less painful. Although I should probably tell you to slow down." He chuckled, a baritone sound that rolled down her spine.

"But you won't." She said, knowingly before handing him back the flask. “I hope you wouldn’t give into temptation of it.” Referring to the flask, her eyes implored into his.

He looked at her, “well drink all of it since that is my gift to you and I’ll just keep the flask.” His eyes shined in slight mirth.

She giggled, knowing it was not a gift. Her smile fading, “May I ask what happened before arriving back to here?” She asked softly, hesitant.

He swallowed; his eyes dimmed at the memories that haunted him as he stared out to the sea before turning his head towards her. “Perhaps when I am ready to talk about it. I do have all the time in the world now, not going anywhere.”

She did not want to push it, so she nodded.

"May I indulge in what has happened?" He asked after handing the flask back to her, and she took it before she turned around to face him, her skirt clad knees barely touching his.

"It was so foolish of me to think that Owen would let me end the betrothal." She heaved a sigh, moving the flask in her hand.

“How long have you been betrothed to another?” His tone was sharp as he inquired, almost as if he was against the idea of her being betrothed to someone. Her cheeks warmed at the thought of him being on her side.

She cared for the man she was betrothed to, but she could not trust him. She could not love him but would have loved him if he had fit all in the expectations she had; not if he could take another woman so eagerly into his bed and share such intimacy with her, but she did tell Peggy, her sister-in-law after she found out the news that a man was required to marry someone did not mean he had to love her. It was a marriage of convenience. Some were fortunate in that department, like Owen and Peggy.

She sighed, “right before you and Owen left for the journey.”

His jaw tightened in response, and she looked away, ignoring the little fluttering in her abdomen.

"I mean, Owen implied that one is not free to leave if one is unhappy. And while I am stuck with this man of my brother’s choosing with no recourse, he's free to do whatever he wants." Her eyes were downcast to the grass under her feet, "with whoever he wants, and I can’t do anything. I was fortunate enough that Owen left before he could push the betrothal along, I was able to stall and now I can’t." She took a sip of the alcohol before returning her gaze to his, "do you think I'm overreacting?" Ignoring the burn, she asked, "am I boring you?"

Moving his head from side to side, "no. No, it's unfathomable." Matthew said quietly, with an indescribable emotion in his eyes.

"What is?"

He parted his lips to let his tongue swipe his bottom lip before speaking. "Well, he has you. Why would he ever look elsewhere?" He murmured, with a gaze that somehow increased the intensity in his orbs.

She closed her mouth slightly, looking at him, and she trailed her eyes over his face. Seeing the details, she hadn't thought of before; his eyes were icy blue, but it had specks of gray in them; his nose was shaped impeccably that seemed soft and yet defined; he had a sharp jawline that could just brush against glass, and it would've shattered under slight pressure; and lips that were soft looking and the desire to kiss him increased within her.

She leaned towards his face, hovering over his lips with hers momentarily before capturing his soft lips. His lips parted slightly, allowing her to mold her lips between. It wasn't much, but it was enough for her.

Leaning back in shock, startled at her own action. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." She stammered, apologizing profusely as she flushed in embarrassment.

"You're right. I should have." He reached out and gripped her wrist, pulling her forward to his face. She flushed deeper at the sight of the emotion in his eyes, more so on his face.

She gasped when his lips were pressing against hers, an urgent feeling as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, exploring. His hands tugged at her hair, before cupping her jaw briefly. The air was shared between them as they continued to move their lips to one another.

"I should go." She breathed after withdrawing from his lips.

Y/N muttered to herself after successfully avoiding Matthew for a few days, almost got caught at the wrong time. Fortunately, she was able to divert the possibility of having to deal with him. She lightly tiptoed behind the house, looking at softly lit window, she frowned. It was unusually late for Owen and Peggy to be awake.

Her eyes widened once she walked up to the window, wishing her curiosity did not get the best of her as she saw the shadows of two figures on the bed through opaque layers of fabric. She moved away from the window, resting against the building’s structure.

She was curious enough, or else she wouldn't have followed the sounds to the narrowed area outside of the house that could get her into trouble, a situation that would never let her out unpunished if she were ever caught.

Once the sounds of the high and the low-pitched moans reached her again, she closed her eyes momentarily before opening them and she found herself hairbreadth away from the glass panes of the window.

She peered in, to see her sister-in-law lying on her back on the bed and the man she married to was hovering over her behind the curtain. It was a good thing the curtains were opaque because she could not stomach the idea of seeing her brother in his nude form or her sister-in-law for that matter.

Their shadows illuminated their lovemaking, and she leaned away from the window once the man thrusted into his wife.

She was enthralled by the emotions, the passion and lust that seemed to radiate the entire room casted by a mere couple who were doing what everyone had been doing for centuries. It did not stop her from feeling intrigued by the raw scene before her.

Her mind then wandered as she turned back to the scene, to the man with dark hair who shared the stories of his travels with her, with eyes that lit up when he talked about anything he was passionate about, and a smile. Oh, that smile.

She wanted that with the man who she met a year ago.

"What on earth are you doing?" A low timbre voice whispered into her ear, not wanting to break the spell. She yelped taking a step back, accidentally pressing into him. Her eyes widened as he inhaled sharply, she could feel him…his cock pressing into her hip. His hands gripping her waist as he murmured throatily into her ear. “Careful.”

“What are you doing here?” She questioned before turning to face him, to see him backing away slowly to give her space.

He looked down at her with an eyebrow raised. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“No, I have not. I was simply busy.” A little white lie.

His blue eyes glittered, knowingly. “Avoiding me for too long.”

Turning to the window, she stared at the glass as she pondered. Something clicked inside of her. She wanted him wholly, betrothed be damned. “Go before they catch us," she told the him after she removed her gaze from it, turning to him, sighing quietly before she ran away, scattering the connection between him and her. She knew what she was going to do once she reached her destination in mind.

And she was secretly hoping he would know where she went.

Grasping the wooden ledge, far away from the house, she rested her left hand onto the roughened surface, and she peered out to the water.

The moon was at its apex, and it casted over the sea making the water glow shimmeringly.

Her other hand had its mind of its own, tracing across her waist, trailing down to her skirt before lowering towards her knees so she could scrunch up the material away from her legs.

A heat was simmering low in her abdomen once she grabbed the material in her hand, and she closed her eyes once she dragged her hand back up, lifting the material little by little.

She was supposed to be loyal to her soon-to-be husband; arranged by marriage that was decided the moment before her brother left for Essex journey. However, she could just have that with Matthew if he would allow it to go far between them, she knew there was something implicit growing in between him and her.

All she could think about was his blue eyes that were a shade of water with ice crusting on surface in the winter, how it darkened when she leaned in, lips inches away from his, and how handsome he looked.

A touch made her gasp once she had reached for her clit, a sound that faded into the air. The sound that people were too far from the grounds to hear, then she had a smile growing on her lips out of pleasure when she stroked herself with her fingers.

Another gasp was made, and the sound disappeared once again.

She then stilled her fingers when she heard footsteps brushing against the dirt pathway.

Her smile only grew deeper, though, and she tilted her head back, exposing her throat in the moonlight.

She felt his presence behind her, his arm was the first part of him that touched her around her waist; then his hand on his other arm found her hand lightly touching herself, he then gripped his fingers on her hand that was somewhat coated with her wetness.

He was pressing against her like he was the cloak that she wore so frequent in the winter.

"Out in the open? My darling’s bold and daring." He breathed against her ear, pushing his fingers onto hers to stroke herself together. She made another noise in the back of her throat. He then rolled his hips experimentally against her side and suddenly she was aware of just how hard, and large he was through his breeches. She bit down her bottom lip to prevent a gasp coming out of her lungs. “Did you know you wore the same clothing when we first met? Thought you were the prettiest thing in it. Rebellious against society’s proprietary of showing ankles.” His voice held a teasing lilt.

Her hand that was previously gripping her skirt had found its way to gripping the stone ledge as the passion began to build in her abdomen.

"Please," she pleaded quietly. Unashamed by how needy she sounded.

His palm sliding up her side to cup her breast through her dress as his other hand withdrew from her hand to skim along her inner thigh.

"A woman, betrothed to another, is begging for a man's hand to touch her." He whispered, "but a woman begging for a man who feels something for her is something that some people will never experience, wouldn't understand it." He breathed against her skin, lightly biting her neck with his teeth.

A thrill shot through her, from the top of her neck to the base of her spine, headily with lust, she turned around; allowing their hands to fall before she faced him.

They were out in the open. Even if it was dark and even if it was nighttime, there was a chance of them being seen.

And yet, she did not care.

She took his face in her hands and hungrily kissed him with a desire far stronger than any she had known before.

She then sighed when she withdrew from him, only to kneel down onto the ground, and she then put her hand on the side of her to lay down on her back.

He knelt as well to lean over her form, his eyes positively burning into her soul as he hovered over her.

Then he was pushing her dress up her thighs. His hands skimmed over the bare skin of her thighs like she was made of glass, like he might break her if he grabbed too hard, and the contrast from the quickness of touches was startlingly glaring as she bit her lower lip in anticipation. His fingers found the juncture of her thighs almost immediately, skimming over her undergarments and making her shiver, her hips jerking involuntarily towards him. He continued to finger the edge of her underwear for a moment, before he looked back up at her and pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat, then he grazed his lips down over her collarbone, down to the swell of her breasts.

His lips lingered there as he slipped his fingers inside of her underwear, and she inhaled sharply, a slight keen noise rose in her throat when he lightly grazed her clit.

Before she could breathe his name, she felt him sliding his index finger into her.

He then slowly started to thrust his fingers in and out of her, drawing a deep shudder out of her body.

She wrapped her thighs around his hips, eyes fluttering closed as she rolled her hips along with the movement of his finger.

"Oh," she moaned aloud, her chest heaving as she fell onto her elbows on the ground covered by the grass, dragging his head along with her.

Using the other hand, he grasped the back of her head and kissed her hard, thrusting another finger inside of her. A surprised noise left her mouth, but she was pleased.

She spread her legs further, and Matthew moved on top of her. He withdrew his fingers to rub them in a circle against her clit, adding enough pressure to produce another shiver out of her.

She was shaking, her hands grasping at the back of his head. He pressed his thumb down hard on her clit, and she made her loudest noise yet, a deep tremble reaching through her nerves.

"So wet..." he breathed. "You may be untouched, but you're a little bundle of fire. So passionate. So intense." He let his mouth lingered against the hollow of her neck.

Withdrawing his fingers from her, she moaned in a near protest, but her hips had a mind of its own by rolling up against his.

He buckled, almost collapsing entirely upon her at the unexpected sensation. Matthew buried his head into the side of her neck, muffling his own moan as he pushed himself fully against her in response. She sighed, tightening the grip of her legs around his waist, the feeling of him straining, so solid, beneath his breeches. He hissed and without warning bit her at the curve of her neck to dampen his loud groan that reverberated on her skin.

She felt him undoing his breeches, and she shivered in anticipation.

Then she felt him sliding into her so powerful, and so passionate that had her arching her back in slight pain but more out of pleasure.

She moaned wantonly as he stilled for a moment, her walls were stretching deliciously around his cock; she was so tight, and he was so big, and she had never felt so full in her very short life.

His head dropping to her shoulder, his body quivering at his display of control.

"Matthew." She said his name quietly in his ear. "I will not break, lose yourself in me like you want to."

He exhaled warm air against the column of her throat, "Y/N."

She then grabbed his jaw gently to bring his face to hers, his eyes were dark blue as he stared at her in the moonlight.

She said almost defiantly, "you approached me with the intention to claim me, so make the statement true." She breathed; desperation twinged in her tone.

There was a long moment as he withdrew slightly, and he looked at her, she gazed back at him then her whole body shook with the impact when he surged forward.

Gasping, she closed her eyes in sheer pleasure.

He withdrew almost all the way, and then slammed himself back to her, and her back arched as his name left her lips. Before she could gather her bearings, he had rammed himself inside her again, and she shouted, fingers clawing into his shoulders at the intense sensation. How full she was when he was inside her, how empty she felt when he withdrew.

Inflaming a reckless abandon that consumed her, had her writhing beneath him, gasping his name, the pleasure he stirred inside her still not enough; she wanted more, impossibly more.

She then gripped at his arms, a deep sound reverberating in her throat. She couldn't moan aloud with his mouth against hers.

Matthew grasped the bottom of tree stump with his right hand, using it as leverage as he drove into her, and she gripped onto him for her life, biting on her lip to hold back her cries.

"I have had lovers, but none of them compared to you. Never," he said fiercely, rasping against her cheek as he thrusted into her. Their eyes fixed to one another, their breaths coming out raggedly as he continued his excruciatingly thorough pace. "Say you are mine." he murmured, his words firm but his eyes betraying so much more. "Say you will only ever be mine."

He rolled his hips in such a way her eyes momentarily fluttered and closed. "Yours." She breathed. "Forever yours."

"You are mine as much as I am yours," he breathed against her mouth. His hands moved hastily to shove her hair from her face, gathering it to the back of her head and gripped it there with a force that made her cry out in pleasure with a twinge of slight pain that only heightened the pleasure. His mouth found her pulse, kissed her there, her shoulders, her throat, as if he was a man possessed. “I will talk to your brother and end the betrothal myself.” He growled into her skin.

She cried out, nails digging into his shoulders, raking down his back as she sucked in a breath as her walls clenched around his cock. There was an inaudible curse against her neck, and he slid into her again, their hips moving against one another over and over as she finished chasing the high.

He then groaned, grunting her name in her ear as he buried himself in her one last time. She felt his cock pulsing as he came deep inside her.

#cillian murphy x reader #matthew joy #Matthew joy x reader #in the heart of the sea #Matthew joy x y/n #matthew joy x you

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