#taking a break from the birthday requests to answer this
Text
all that we see or seem
➔ Dieter Bravo x AFAB!Reader
➔ 5.7k words
➔ You moved to Hollywood in hopes of chasing your dreams; you get a lot more than you bargained for from your new boss, Dieter Bravo.
➔ Rated MA // dark fic, reader is afab (female anatomy, no pronouns used) and generally able-bodied, age gap (unspecified, reader is younger than dieter), vampire!dieter, blood/both consensual and non-consensual blood drinking, knife use, slight self-harm, gore of the mouth variety, pet names, takes place in 1983 bc i’m a sucker for changing settings
➔ this was requested from this prompt list by the very lovely @sp00kymulderr!! happy birthday darling, sorry this took so long but i hope it's worth the wait <3 thank you so much to @missredherring for this AMAZING header graphic ily 🖤
Los Angeles is a far cry from the little town you grew up in. It’s a seemingly endless maze, with more possibilities than you ever could’ve dreamed. It’s a little daunting, really. You step off your plane with your suitcase in hand, and you feel like the world is in the palms of your hands.
The harsh reality comes crashing in without warning.
LA is expensive, especially on your own. As the money you’d saved up to get you started dwindles much quicker than expected, your dreams only get further and further out of reach. Life always finds a way to fuck you over, and the city of angels does it quicker than anywhere else. The glitzy neon nightclubs and the glamor of Hollywood swiftly become an omen of doom rather than a beacon of hope. You’re in over your head, but it’s too late to back out now.
Auditions get put on the backburner. You work yourself to the bone as a server in a dumpy little diner, but it’s still barely enough to cover your basic expenses.
You wake up, you go to work, you come home, you go to sleep. The cycle repeats itself so quickly that your days all merge together into one, long, neverending nightmare.
The light at the end of the tunnel appears shortly before the first anniversary of your move. You’re scanning through the paper during your meal break when you see a help wanted ad. It’s normally the type of thing you would ignore, but a few things about it draw you in. The part that really catches your eye is the large, bold letters that proclaim “work closely with one of the biggest names in hollywood!” It seems too good to be true, and certainly something you’re not qualified for. But it could be a start–a way to get your foot through the door of the industry that brought you out here in the first place. Really, what’s the harm in trying?
You go to the library, type up your resume, and mail it in to the address listed in the ad. Realistically, you know that there must be hundreds of other applicants and you probably won’t get so much as a rejection letter back; but the needling little ‘what if’ in the back of your mind gives you a boost of hope that you’ve lived without for an achingly long time.
You get better than a letter–a broad, handsome man shows up at the diner late one night asking for you three days after you drop your resume into the local mail slot at the post office. Janine, the shaggy-haired waitress you work with almost every shift and have sort of become friends with, nudges you excitedly while you’re handing a ticket back to the kitchen.
“Honey, do you know who that is?” She nods her head over her shoulder towards a table in the corner of her section and you try to look over as nonchalantly as possible.
Of course you know who that is. His face is everywhere in this stupid town–magazine covers, billboards, movie theaters. Even with sunglasses obscuring the dark brown eyes that have made thousands swoon, you recognize Dieter Bravo. He’s bigger than Hasselhoff and Swayze combined.
“He’s asking for you,” Janine whispers. “By name. You know him?”
“Not yet,” you answer truthfully. You know without a doubt that he’s here because of your resume and that your entire world is about to change.
You’ve seen him on the big screen before and now you can definitively say that it doesn’t do him justice. He’s more handsome than any man has a right to be. He’s wearing a black hoodie and black trousers, an ensemble that stands out in the brightness of 1983 but yet perfectly complements the tanned tone of his skin. His shoulders could fill a doorway and his smile might actually melt you into a puddle. You can’t help but notice–with a hint of trepidation–that his canines are the sharpest you’ve ever seen, although that thought is quickly pushed from your mind when he greets you by name.
“Your resume is impressive.”
“No it’s not,” you respond with a little laugh before you can stop yourself, then you have to refrain from banging your head into the wall. What a great start to an interview.
But he laughs, and you can’t help feeling you’ve done something right. You’d do a hell of a lot worse just to hear that gorgeously deep, hearty chuckle again.
“Okay, I’ll rephrase. You said all the right things. You’ve got exactly what I’m looking for as an assistant.”
You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, because this is much too good to be true.
“You’re not from LA,” he states factually. “What brought you here?”
You consider lying–coming up with some story that’s less pathetic than the truth. He’s appreciated your honesty thus far, though, and you don’t want to break a streak. “I wanted to act, but… it’s hard to get started when you don’t have any connections. So I’ve just been kind of… getting by.”
He nods and gives you a look over–assessing, you think. “We all have to start somewhere. But this isn’t an easy job.”
There’s something unreadable in his voice, but you choose to ignore it because you want nothing more than a chance to impress him. It’s not about ‘making it’ anymore; it’s about proving to Dieter Bravo that you’re worth taking a chance on.
“Neither is this,” you reply with a vague wave at the diner around you. “If I’m not covered in fryer grease at the end of the day, it’s a good job to me.”
He chuckles again and it washes over you like fresh water after years of drought. You want more of him–more of his charm, more of his warmth.
“When can you start?”
You ask for two weeks to leave your diner gig on good terms, and he’s gracious enough to accommodate you. As the days tick past, the anticipation ramps up and time seems to move slower. You’ve never been so excited for a new job. Normally, your gut twists with anticipation and your mind swirls with every little minute detail that could go wrong–but not now. No, now you’re just excited. The possibilities of Hollywood finally seem to be within your reach again, and it all starts with this job.
You learn a lot about Dieter within five minutes of starting on your first day. For one, he’s incredibly personable. He greets you himself and vows to show you the ropes. There’s no third party to teach you everything you need to know, it’s just him. Just the two of you. You appreciate that immensely, because you’ll be serving him directly as his assistant. There’s no better person to learn from when it comes to his desires and routines than the man himself.
Two, he wears many different masks. It’s a little spooky, the way his demeanor changes depending on who he’s dealing with. He can be the sweetest, most charming man you’ve ever spoken to, then turn to a producer and be a complete hardass all in the name of getting things done. He knows exactly what persona he needs to wear for each person he interacts with–it’s all very calculated. You suppose all actors have to be capable of that; the mark of a good thespian is being instantly able to pretend you’re someone you’re not.
Still, it’s a little chilling. If you didn’t see it in some form or another with every person you meet on set, you’d be a little concerned. Dieter just makes it look like adaptation–fitting into his surroundings as a means of staying afloat. He’s been in this industry for a long time, he knows what works; and, subsequently, what doesn’t.
As far as the job goes, it’s a nice change of pace from what you’ve become accustomed to. You spend nights on set with him, fetching his coffee order or running little errands while he’s busy shooting. The hours aren’t unreasonable, and it pays double what the diner did. Now that you’re not struggling to get by financially, you have the free time you need to start pursuing your dreams again.
You have only Dieter to answer to, which is a definite learning curve. Directors, producers, and even other actors chase after your favors, but Dieter tells them unequivocally to fuck off. You’re his–it’s a heady feeling each time he reasserts it. It makes for easy work when you’re not being pulled in thirty different directions simultaneously. He asks for what he needs when he’s around and he gives you a list of tasks to complete when he’s not. He’s a little eccentric–he tells you he can only work after dark because his eyes are sensitive–but it’s nice, falling into a routine after so long of working unconventional hours at a job where no two days are the same.
Still, as days turn into weeks by his side, you wonder exactly what version of Dieter he’s presenting to you. Which face is the most authentic? You want to believe he’s himself with you, but you’re not quite naive enough to convince yourself of that. The thing that bothers you the most is that you want him to feel comfortable enough to drop the facades around you. You want to get to know the real Dieter Bravo, underneath all the masks. But you also swore to yourself, when you accepted this job, that you would be nothing but professional–and wanting to get to know him so intimately is definitely a step beyond just being his employee.
To his credit, he’s strictly professional–even if you wish he wasn’t at times. There’s a lot of rumors and gossip about him, about his hedonism and the life he supposedly leads at night, but you don’t see that facet of him. With you, he’s friendly, kind, and respectful. He’s the perfect gentleman–and that’s how you know that you’re not getting a full glimpse of the real him. There’s too much contradiction between the rumors and the Dieter that you interact with.
No matter how straight-laced you try to be, you can’t help wondering what it’ll take to get a look at the real Dieter Bravo.
You think he starts to peek through when Dieter asks if you would be willing to work longer hours and be more of a personal assistant than a production assistant. You know him inside and out, he tells you, and it would be a pain in the ass to teach a whole new person how to deal with his errands. He even offers you a sizable raise when you pretend to be contemplating it, like you weren’t bursting at the seams to say yes before he even finished asking.
The sad–maybe even pathetic–truth of the matter is that you’re falling for him. Every facet of his charm, from his darkly passionate eyes to his easy humor, have you completely bewitched and ready to ignore the way your hair stands on end each time his gaze meets yours. You’ll take any small fraction of him that you can get.
He eases you into your additional duties, at least; that much can be said in his favor. He starts you out with small tasks, like ordering his groceries and picking up his dry cleaning. Dieter’s so kind and patient as he explains how he likes everything done–he’s particular, but not unreasonable. He even gives you a grand tour of his home so you can see exactly where and how he likes everything done–it’s like finally getting that real glimpse of him that you’ve been hoping for.
His Sherman Oaks mansion looks like something straight out of a Bram Stoker novel on the outside, yet the inside is a testament to the warm side of his personality that you’re more familiar with. It’s decorated in shades of orange and red, with patterns that are a little out of date but still manage to feel intentional. It gives the impression of someone who was more comfortable and sure of himself in the 70’s, or at least someone who hasn’t quite adjusted to the new trends that came with the turn of the decade. The walls are covered with art–most of it signed with his familiar “DB” in the bottom right hand corner. It’s neat, but not so neat that it feels staged. It fits the Dieter Bravo that you know perfectly, and it even starts to feel like home to you when you start spending more time there with him.
There’s never anyone else around when you’re there. For someone who has a reputation for throwing the liveliest parties in all of Hollywood, he doesn’t actually do a lot of partying. Not when you’re around, at least. It’s almost like he’s trying to hide that aspect of himself from you. If he has to host, he sends you home early or lets you know in advance that you’re getting a paid night off. You’re almost disappointed–parties have never really been your thing, sure, but you feel like you need to experience at least one of his.
Plus, people are starting to talk. You hear it on set first; his co-stars whispering about how he’s gone soft, how he’s gotten boring. Even the tabloids are starting to wonder if they’ve seen the last infamous Dieter Bravo party, which were once highly coveted and exclusive events. The few times he’s hosted lately have been small, quiet affairs–definitely not the big, star-studded shebangs that he’s gained a reputation for.
A rumor even starts circulating that he’s finally decided to settle down with a nice girl, which makes your stomach twist with a little green monster that shouldn’t be there. He’s your employer, you reason. That’s all. No matter how friendly he is, no matter how much he flirts with you, no matter how much he compliments your perfect cup of coffee, that’s all he is. Your boss. And yet, despite your constant self-assertion, your brain just can’t seem to accept it. You know you shouldn’t want anything more than that, and yet you just can’t seem to stop yourself from hoping.
“What’s going on with you?”
You’re in the midst of trying to sort through the files in his upstairs home office so you can find out when his insurance needs to be renewed when you hear the voice, loud and clear due to the open floor plan downstairs. Sound travels like crazy up the double-wide staircase with Dieter’s office door right at the top. You couldn’t shut it out even if you wanted to–and you don’t. God help you, you’re a little nosy and a little curious.
“Nothing.” That’s Dieter’s voice, but you don’t recognize the other.
“Bullshit. You’re not yourself.” It’s a deep, rich tone that you’ve never heard before and it immediately has your interest hooked. Dieter doesn’t get many visitors, much less such purposeful ones. Most people like to schmooze him, but evidently not this unidentified man.
“I’m trying to be different,” Dieter explains half-heartedly. “It’s time I cleaned up a bit.”
“No. Cleaning up your act is nothing more than a good way to get yourself caught. Things happen in the party climate, that’s how you fit in. Things don’t just happen to nice rich actors.”
Caught? Caught doing what, exactly? You creep closer to the open door on light feet, curiosity peaked.
Dieter sighs, and you can hear the exhaustion in his voice. “I’m tired.”
“So what are you going to do? Just give up? Waste away after… how long?”
“Maybe I should,” Dieter retorts–there’s grit in his tone now, maybe even bitterness. “Maybe I never should’ve taken the deal in the first place. You don’t see how fucked up this all is?”
“So, what? You’ve gotten everything you could’ve possibly wanted, and now you’re tired of playing the game? Pathetic.” There’s a sneer in the tone of this unidentified speaker and you don’t like it. You want to jump to Dieter’s defense, but something tells you this is a conversation that you shouldn’t be eavesdropping on.
“Whatever, man,” Dieter scoffs dismissively.
There’s noise downstairs now–a slight thud and what sounds like Dieter grunting as if the wind has been knocked out of him.
“What changed?”
“Fuck off,” Dieter spits.
“What. Changed?”
“You weren’t fucking honest with me.”
“Bullshit,” the stranger growls back. “You knew exactly what you were getting into.”
“No, you said everything I wanted, that was the deal. Remember?” It’s quiet for a long moment, and you wonder if Dieter’s pacing. He does that, when he starts to get stressed. “I’m still alone, though.”
“That’s your own fault,” the stranger replies–voice a little softer now. “I didn’t say I would hand you your dreams on a silver platter. You make your own destiny. Surely it hasn’t been so long that you’ve forgotten that little qualifier.”
“I can’t bring someone else into this shit and you know it,” Dieter replies. The venom is gone from his voice now–he just sounds done. Exhausted and spent.
“You can, but you won’t.” There’s a moment of silence, then a heavy sigh. “Start acting like yourself again before you raise too much suspicion.”
“Fine,” Dieter sighs heavily.
There’s a few long moments of silence, and then you hear the heavy solid oak front door shut. Presumably the guest has gone, and while you’re eager to sneak down and see if you can catch a glimpse of who it might’ve been, it’s far too risky with Dieter down there. Something tells you that he should never find out about the way you just eavesdropped on that conversation. You don’t know who he was talking to, or what kind of deal they were discussing–you just know that it’s serious, and definitely above your paygrade.
“Did you find that paperwork?”
You didn’t hear Dieter come upstairs–his sudden question from right behind you makes you jump and whirl around to look at him. You fight to keep your calm as you catch your breath; the last thing you want to do is clue him in that you overheard his conversation with his unknown guest.
“Yeah, I’ve got it right here,” you answer after a thick gulp.
“You’re a doll,” he proclaims with a wide smile. How easily he picks up the face he wears with you after a conversation that clearly upset him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” you hum with a smile. “This entire room is a nightmare. It’s a miracle you ever find anything. You need to get, like… some filing cabinets. At the very least.”
“I’ll, uhh… get right on that,” he says in a way that makes you sure he definitely won’t get right on it.
Despite the nerves still thrumming through your veins, you laugh. “I’ll take care of it.”
“You’re a doll,” he repeats with his trademark grin. “Oh! Hey, uhh… you have tomorrow off. Paid, obviously.”
“Why?” You ask before you can think better of it.
He seems surprised–you don’t normally ask questions, especially about paid vacation days. “Work stuff I gotta take care of. No big deal.”
“Okay,” you answer with a slight frown. “Sure I can’t help?”
He actually does seem to be contemplating it for a moment–his eyes scan over your body, and it’s like he’s considering you more than the actual offer. “No, honey, I’ll be okay.”
“Okay.” You take a short breath, then head towards the door–this was the last task on your list for the night. “Anything else you need before I head out?”
He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head as he follows you down the stairs. “No. Thanks, sweetheart.”
You feel heat fluttering underneath your skin at the pet name–he uses them often and they never fail to make your heart pick up pace. It’s like he can tell, because his eyes linger on your lips for a moment before trailing down to the pulse point on the left side of your neck. You wonder for a second if he can actually see it beating, but you quickly push that ridiculous thought away.
“You’re sure there’s nothing I can do for you tomorrow?”
His eyes are still trained on your neck like he’s completely zoned out or something. You watch as his tongue slowly glides over his bottom lip, trance-like; it makes your breath hitch in your throat.
“Yeah,” he whispers after a long moment–he’s standing so close now, you didn’t even notice him closing in. “I’ll call you if anything comes up.”
“Okay.” You want nothing more than to grab him and pull him in, to kiss him like your life depends upon it. He sounded so upset and every bone in your body is screaming to comfort him. The way he’s looking at you right now, you don’t think he’d mind at all.
Instead you take a deep breath, grab your bag from the bench next to the door, and bid him goodnight.
Dieter doesn’t seem to realize that you’re always working, whether you’re on the clock or not. Even on ‘off’ days, you get loads of calls for scheduling requests and other tasks. Your saving grace is your trusty day planner—it holds both of your schedules, all neatly color-coded for maximum efficiency.
The worst thing you could’ve done on a weekend leading up to awards season is leave it in Dieter’s home office—and yet, as you frantically dig through your tote bag and your desk, that seems to be exactly what you’ve done.
You know Dieter’s got whatever event he’s hosting at home, but you can’t keep taking calls and scribbling notes on napkins without your schedule in front of you. The last thing you want to do is overbook him at a time where every single interview counts.
With a heavy sigh, you dial Dieter’s home number. It rings for what seems like eternity, and just as you’re about to hang up an unfamiliar voice answers.
“Hello?”
With a sigh of relief, you ask, “Hi, is Dieter there?”
“He’s busy.” The voice is high and sweet, yet her tone says she couldn’t be more irritated.
“Okay… umm, it’s kind of important.”
The stranger sighs dramatically. “I can take a message.”
“I just… I left something there, and I need to come get it as soon as possible. But I don’t want to interrupt anything.”
This time when she speaks, her tone is considerably more friendly. “Oh! Yeah, come on over. The more the merrier!”
You can’t help your intrigue, although you really don’t want to intrude without Dieter’s say-so. “Are you sure? I could always come tomorrow, I guess.”
“No no, come! It’s a party, everyone’s welcome!” Then the line goes dead without any further discussion.
You consider redialing in the hopes of speaking and clearing your visit with Dieter, but you doubt you’ll actually get through to him–and really, what harm would a quick visit do? You know exactly where you left it, on the desk in his office. It’ll be five minutes tops, a quick in and out. He might never even know that you’d been there.
You shake off the curious sense of foreboding that overtakes your mind as you grab your keys and lock your apartment door behind you.
It’s a twenty minute ride to Dieter’s house–a lot of time to spend thinking. At the forefront of your mind is that peculiar conversation you overheard last night; you’re not entirely sure why, really. Whoever that man was sounded almost as if he was in some kind of position of power over Dieter, and you don’t have even an educated guess at who that could possibly be. Dieter’s his own boss and he doesn’t take bullying–you’ve never heard someone get away with bossing him around like that before. He’s constantly in some weird form of pissing match with the directors and producers of whatever film he’s working on; he’s never seemed to be good at taking orders, even when he’s supposed to. You’ve heard many a rant about how much he values the ‘freedom of expression’. It all serves to make the mysterious visitor more confusing. Who does Dieter have to answer to?
The cab pulls up in front of his gated home before you’re able to find a plausible answer. You instruct the driver to keep the meter running since you’ll only be a minute before you step out into the crisp late-January air.
The grounds are a lot quieter than you expect them to be as the guard on duty opens the gate and closes it behind you. One thing Dieter’s famous for is noise–his parties are always reported as loud and exciting affairs akin to the fraternities in his favorite movie Animal House. There's no noise at all today, though, and it makes you curious. Is it really a party? Or was the stranger who answered the phone maybe his only guest? If the latter is the case, why would she want you to join in?
There’s a pale man in a cheap-looking suit waiting just inside the door, a tray of filled wine glasses in his gloved hands. “Take one,” he instructs, his eyes distant like he’s looking through you rather than at you.
“Oh, no thank you, I just need to–”
“Take one,” he repeats. “Master’s orders.”
Master? Of course Dieter would be into that.
The wine is a deep red, probably that expensive vintage shit that he’s always raving about. You prefer the grocery store stuff yourself, not just because it’s all you can afford. A drink never hurts, though, and you could certainly use something to take the edge off–because that tingling sense of foreboding has only gotten stronger since your arrival.
You take a glass and swirl its currant-colored liquid around. It seems more viscous than any wine you’ve had before–probably a mark of its age, but that’s just guesswork on your part. You take a small sip, then nearly gag. It’s like drinking a pile of melted pennies. You swallow it down with a grimace anyway since you don’t want to make a scene of spitting it out in front of the server. It leaves a metallic taste in your mouth that you’re eager to wash out–thankfully, the kitchen is on your route to the stairs. You quickly deposit the glass on a table once you’re out of the server’s eyesight, then head down the hall in a desperate search for water.
Once you’re out of the foyer, there are people everywhere. Very subdued people, at that–draped over furniture like throw blankets, some even laying on the floor. You consider checking one’s pulse until he twitches and lets out a muffled groan. Clearly high on something, you’re just not sure what. You nearly trip over one person and they actually hiss at you like some kind of feral cat. Your skin starts to crawl with every step you take. Even more important than your discomfort, though, is finding Dieter. What if he’s like this, too? Do you need to call someone?
You notice a dull ache starting in your gums as you make it to the kitchen–thankfully you’re familiar with his home, and you have a glass of water in your hands within no time. It seems that no matter how much you drink, though, that coppery-bloody taste never leaves your mouth. What the hell was that stuff?
There’s a short-haired blonde woman propped up against the wall underneath the mounted phone; she reaches out a lazy hand in some sort of greeting. She looks vaguely familiar, like someone you might’ve seen on the set of one of Dieter’s films.
“You made it!” She says with a lazy smile. She must be the woman you spoke to earlier, although you’re not sure how she can identify you.
“Yeah. Where’s Dieter?” The longer you’re here, the more worried you become. Something isn’t right, and your skin is prickling with apprehension.
“Upstairs,” she murmurs, then her eyes flutter shut and she slumps a little further down. She’s visibly breathing, at least.
For a moment, you consider picking up the phone and ringing the police. Would that cause more harm than good? Dieter must be aware of what’s going on here–you know you should talk to him before you do anything.
Your mission to find your planner momentarily forgotten, you make your way through the living room towards the stairs.
You check the office at the top first–there’s a few bodies zonked out on the couch, but none of them are Dieter. With trepidation in your very soul, you make your way down the hall. Each room is more of the same–people in varying states of unrest, no sign of the man you’re looking for. Most of them have red-stained lips and you eye more than one smashed glass along your journey. Your own mouth is starting to get alarmingly sore, but you ignore it in favor of finding Dieter.
Each step you take drives your worries deeper into your skull. What if something’s happened to him? What if he’s knocked out like all of his guests, or hurt, or something worse?
This is the first time you’ve breached the bubble of his bedroom. None of your work has ever involved this room, and while you’re a naturally nosey type of person, there’s something deeply personal and sacred about the space someone sleeps in.
Ignoring the steady throbbing in your gums, you knock once before pushing open the door.
Dieter’s alone in his room, sprawled out like a starfish in a sea of rumpled sheets at the center of his massive bed. Something akin to a groan of horror escapes your throat as you see the state he’s in. He’s paler than a corpse and drenched in sweat, chest barely rising and falling with breath.
For a moment, you’re frozen in place. Your entire body breaks out in a cold sweat as you notice the knife in his right hand and the deep gash in the crook of his left arm, right where an IV would normally be set. You can smell the blood draining from him, you can even taste it in the air–or maybe that’s just the lingering taste of whatever you drank downstairs.
Your stomach churns violently with the sudden realization of what you’ve done, of what you’ve drank.
“Dieter!” You manage to choke out while your brain tries to remember how to send the signals required for your body to fucking move.
He lifts his head shakily, brown eyes widening after a long moment of trying to recognize the face he’s looking at. “No no no,” he whispers hoarsely, “you’re not supposed t-to be here. You’re.. y-you’re supposed to be a-at home.”
A sharp, shattering pain in your top gum snaps your brain back into action. In a flash you’re crawling across a seemingly endless desert of mattress and it feels like you’ll never reach him. Everything is moving so slowly–each movement seems to take a hundred times the effort it should.
You spit out a mouthful of blood as the pain heightens, barely registering the two upper canines that go with it.
“What the fuck have you done?” You sob, uselessly pawing at his slashed left arm. It’s a precise cut straight across the artery–your hands are sticky and soaked with red the moment you touch him. Pressure, your brain screams at you. Put pressure on the wound.
“A real artist must suffer,” he mumbles weakly–then, even quieter, “I didn’t want to be alone anymore.”
“You’re dying.” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own anymore. It’s higher, breathier.
“You drank it, d-didn’t you?” He asks, ignoring your statement. His distant eyes are trained on the sharp fangs that have pushed your canines out. “Fuck. Fuck! You were n-never supposed to…”
“Shut up, shut up,” you plead. Every shaky breath seems to cost him years. “How do I fix this? How do I fix you?”
“Thirsty,” he mumbles. There’s water on the sideboard, your brain reminds you. You don’t even remember bringing the glass with you, much less setting it down. Everything is so fuzzy. Your arm doesn’t move nearly as fast as it should when you reach for the glass, and Dieter’s hand weakly comes up to stop you.
“Not water,” he croaks. “Need… need…”
He can’t seem to form the words required to tell you what he needs. He doesn’t have to, though. You know.
“You’re not dying on me, Bravo.” You take the knife from his slack right hand before he can stop you and grit your sore teeth together as you slash it across your palm.
“N-no, don’t…” But he doesn’t resist as you hold your bleeding palm to his mouth. His empty eyes flash back to life with the first taste, and then he takes your hand in his own and drinks greedily. You watch with nothing short of disbelief as the cut on his arm seals itself right before your eyes.
“You were supposed to stay away from this,” he murmurs as his tongue sweeps across your palm. “Why the fuck are you here, baby?”
You don’t even remember anymore. Everything is hazy, everything hurts. It’s a chore just to keep your eyes open.
“Damn it,” he growls–pushing your hand away from his blood-smeared mouth seems to take all his willpower. “I never wanted this for you.”
“It’s okay,” you murmur as you slump down against his sheets. They’re so soft and light, and you want to cocoon yourself in them for the rest of time. “It’s just a dream.”
“Why’d you have to come save me? Huh?” His voice sounds so far away that you’re not even sure he’s really speaking.
“I love you.” It’s okay to say that, because he’ll never actually find out. It’s just a dream, after all; you’ll wake up in the morning confused but totally okay.
“You were never supposed to,” his voice echoes from some plain of existence far, far away. “Damn it honey, stay awake just a minute longer.”
You try, but your eyes are so heavy. He sighs heavily, as if he knows it’s useless.
“Promise you’ll still love me when you wake up,” he pleads through the tunnel that separates you.
Nodding saps the last of your strength, so you let your eyes flutter closed. “Okay.”
You feel his lips against yours and his coppery kiss nearly brings you back from the verge of sleep. In the end, though, your throbbing head wins. Sleep takes hold quickly despite your feeble resistance.
How strange it is to fall asleep in a dream.
➔ beta: @schnarfer and @futuraa-free thank you my lovelies <3
➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!
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#dieter bravo#dieter bravo x reader#dieter bravo fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#the bubble#the bubble fanfiction#cece writes
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Can I please request some hc of boyfriend Sukuna and fem reader based on this AU: inkedberries.tumblr.com/tagged/jjk%20student%20sukuna%20au/chrono
So, while I do really love this au and find it to be so much fin, I don't feel comfortable writing for someone else's AU without explicit permission from the author. idk if that's typical etiquette or not, but it is just something that doesn't quite sit right with me, I'm sorry Nonnie :(
THAT BEING SAID: Inkedberries has an incredible art style! You guys should really check their blog out here and the AU is a lot of fun! I find it really inspiring, and I may just expand on my Frat Boy Sukuna au because of it lmao.
#taking a break from the birthday requests to answer this#Let me know if any of you would want more frat boy sukuna#fratboy!sukuna#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#the thot speaks#whats up nonny#also just gonna throw this in here#I don't believe that Inkedberries own jjk student sukuna#my discomfort comes from being linked a specific creators au to write for#does that make sense?#i hope it does lol
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Soulmate AU: First Words + End of the World ; requested by @justwannabecat!
Duke has long since accepted that he doesn’t have great luck. Most things in his life tend to go wrong very quickly, or complicate situations he was already struggling in (see: being a meta and getting his powers in the middle of a fight). Having an incomprehensible soulmark is an unpleasant discovery on the morning of his nineteenth birthday, but not entirely unexpected.
He had been hoping for something simple, a common one like hi it’s nice to meet you or sorry, didn’t mean to bump into you.
What Duke gets instead isn’t even words.
Scrawled across his left hipbone is a string of symbols glowing a faint green. They’re not in a language he recognizes, and the symbols seem to move, shifting ever so slightly so they look different every time he blinks.
“Well,” he says after a solid five minutes of staring into the mirror, unable to rip his eyes off his soulmate’s words, “I hope theirs looks nicer than mine.”
He spends his birthday in a bit of a daze, enjoying time spent with the Waynes and his friends. It’s hard to be fully present when he’s all too aware of the soreness on his hipbone flaring up each time he moves. It’s hard to keep his mind off of it, wanting nothing more than to search for answers, unravel the mystery of his soulmate’s first words.
“Something on your mind?” Jason asks, as the attention shifts off of him for a brief moment as Harper and Cullen get ready to leave and everyone rushes to give their goodbyes,
Duke shrugs, carefully keeping his hands still so they don’t drift to where his soulmark is hidden beneath his clothes. “Yeah. Nothing you need to worry about, though.”
Jason looks him over critically, then nods.
Duke resigns himself to being investigated by the rest of the Bats. If he’s off enough that Jason had to comment on it, then that means everyone’s noticed and are trying to figure out what’s happened. They’re not going to ask him, because they think he needs space to work through whatever’s got him so distracted, but they’re also not going to just do nothing.
This won’t be the first time they’ve done this. Duke expects it. Frankly, it would be stranger and much more concerning if they didn’t try to dig up all his secrets the moment they caught wind of him hiding something.
He’ll tell them about getting his soulmark soon. Soulmarks can appear on any birthday between the ages of thirteen to twenty five; they might suspect he got his, but they won’t be able to confirm.
For now, Duke can keep his soulmate’s first words (whatever that gibberish means) to himself.
He makes the decision then and there, as his birthday party winds down, to tell them in a week.
And because his luck is abysmal, a world ending threat hits five days later and suddenly there is no time for soulmarks and first words.
Duke is the last to arrive at the Fortress of Solitude, hitching a ride from Superboy to get there. The biting cold and the harsh winds keep the place far from the reaches of the rest of humanity, surrounded by nothing but deadly white.
Desolate as the landscape is, it’s still in better shape than the rest of the world.
Things would be better if it was alien invaders. It would be more bearable if some sort of cosmic colossus tried to eat their solar system. At least then there would be something physical that they could fight.
Instead, the world is breaking apart, the sky and earth both fracturing to reveal glowing green faultlines. Timelines are getting mixed up and muddled; just yesterday, Duke had to evacuate a building that had been demolished forty years ago, then stop a gang leader who wouldn’t be born for another eight years from taking over a neighborhood block and holding the residents hostage. Strange creatures are appearing out of nowhere, crawling out of shadows and tide pools and from beneath the roots of trees, all horrible, monstrous things that go after people with teeth and claws.
The Flashes and the rest of the speedsters are nowhere to be found. The last time anyone get communication from them, it had been Impulse sending Red Robin a glitchy, barely audible video chat saying something along the lines of “trying to fix—unstable—keep us here—never been alive before.” All things that are very concerning to hear, made worse by the fact that no one had been able to contact them at all.
The quiet loneliness of the Fortress of Solitude is a welcome change from the constant screaming, death, and destruction that’s taken over Gotham as well as the rest of the world. Last he heard, even Justice League China was at the end of their rope.
“In here,” Superboy instructs, guiding Duke through the halls. There’s no time to look around at Superman’s secret base. All his focus is stuck on staying conscious for another few hours to see if this gathering of heroes is able to find a solution to the world breaking apart.
Batman stands besides Superman. Both nod at Duke when he enters the room. Wonder Woman is watching over John Constantine as he writes something on the floor, muttering under his breath. The rest of the Justice League lean against each other, visibly exhausted as they wait for Constantine to finish up what he’s doing. A few other heroes are here too, and Duke goes to join them where they lean against a wall, fighting to keep their eyes open.
“Hey,” he greets, voice low. “Hanging in there?”
Wonder Girl sighs. “Somehow. I don’t know how much longer we can do this. There’s just too much…”
“We’ll get through this. I mean, even without us out there, plenty of civilians have formed rescue and relief groups to help with keeping things under control,” Speedy says, gently knocking her arm against Wonder Girl’s. “We just gotta keep going. No giving up.”
“What’s this plan, anyways? I just heard that they needed me here to some attempt to fix things.”
“Well, without the speedsters, you’re kind of the only one who can help with time and power related stuff,” Speedy says.
“That’s definitely a stretch. My powers don’t really have anything to do with time. It’s all just light and shadow.”
Speedy shrugs. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you? Too late to complain about it now.”
Duke doesn’t get a chance to say anything else when a loud clap catches his attention. The entire room goes still and silent as Constantine stands up and surveys the circle and symbols he’s written, taking up an entire corner of the large room.
“Alright,” he says. “Time to get started. Remember, let me do the talking. If you have to speak, it’s only to back me up or when a question is directed to you.”
Batman nods to the other Justice Leaguers, and suddenly everyone is falling into formation behind Constantine. Duke hurries to join them with Wonder Girl and Speedy, taking a place on the edge of the group where he’s a little closer to the circle than the others.
Constantine begins chanting. His voice is steady though none of the sounds make any sense, refusing to form themselves into recognizable words, and the air the in the room feels heavier. The chalk circle glows a blinding white and Duke can see magic swirling through the air, his power kicking in the let him watch as reality tears and a glowing star in the shape of a boy comes out of it.
Duke blinks, forcing his power down. The hypnotic swirls of magic fade from sight, but the boy still glows, bright and terrible as he floats above the circle and surveys them all. A crown engulfed in blue flame hovers above his head and the fabric of the cosmos is draped over his shoulders as a cape.
Just from presence alone, Duke can tell that this figure is now the strongest existence in this universe. He hopes this boy king is kind; no one, not even Superman, would be able to beat him in a fight.
The boy king opens his mouth and speaks, but it’s not words than comes out. A strange static like sound emerges, but light and almost melodic.
His left hipbone burns.
Duke gasps, hand flying down to it, and the boy king’s gaze snaps to meet his.
The world stands still. No one moves. No one dares to breathe.
And then the boy king drops to the floor and walks out of the circle.
“I thought you said that would hold him!” Batman hisses at Constantine, who is looking more and more distressed.
“It was supposed to! I wrote it specifically to hold the King of the Infinite Realms!”
The boy king glances at Constantine. This time, when he speaks, it’s in smooth English. “Did you name the king in your circle?”
“Yeah, I named Pariah Dark… Bloody hell, you ain’t him, are ya?”
“No,” the boy king smiles, “I’m Phantom.”
The cape and crown fade away, and suddenly it’s not an all powerful, terrifying king standing before them, but a young man with white hair and green eyes who looks Duke’s age. Like he could be any other new generation hero in the room.
“Phantom,” Duke repeats lightly, just under his breath, but it makes Phantom look at him again.
He walks forward, ignoring the other heroes’ aborted attempts to stop him, coupled with Constantine’s frantic back off motion happening behind him. Phantom leaves the circle and the Justice Leaguers behind to stand before Duke, a soft smile on his face.
“Hi,” he says softly, “I dreamed of you.”
“You—what?”
“I dreamed of you. I have for years now. To think that being summoned was what made us meet—” Phantom breaks off into a breathless laugh.
Duke swallows, then drops his had from where it had been pressed against his hip. “So we’re really—? You have my first words too?”
In the corner of his eye, he sees Batman stiffen up. Maybe he should have just told them the day after his birthday, but in Duke’s defense, this is the definition of extenuation circumstances.
“First words?” Phantom repeats, “Is that… Do we have different soulmate connections?”
“I think so. Here, everyone gets the first words their soulmates say to them appearing somewhere on their body.”
Phantom’s gaze darts down to Duke’s hip, then back up. “Oh. I get dreams. Where I’m from, we dream of our soulmates, and the closer we get to meeting them, the more we remember the dreams.”
“And you dreamed of me.”
“I did.”
“As touching as this is,” Constantine interrupts, and Duke gets to watch as Phantom rolls his eyes, “We summoned you here for a reason. Our world is falling apart at the seams and we need someone powerful, from the Realms, to help us fix it.”
“Okay.”
“...What do you mean ‘okay’?”
“I’ll help,” Phantom says.
“Just like that? No deal to be made, no price to be paid?”
���Just like that. I’m not one for deals anyways. If I can help, then I will. But I do want to see what the problem is with my soulmate by my side, if you don’t mind.”
Batman steps in, fixing Duke with a steady gaze, a barely noticeable tilt of his head. “Signal?”
“Yeah I’ll go with him. Of course I will. The sooner the better, in fact, because everything’s gone to shit.” Duke turns to Phantom, taking hold of one of his hands. “It is really bad out there,” he warns, “If you need help—”
“I’ll ask for help from others in the Realms,” Phantom says. “No offense or anything, but if it’s really that bad, I doubt living mortals will be able to do much to fix things. It’s why I was summoned, right?”
“Right. Let’s get to it, then.”
There’s a flash of mischief in Phantom’s eyes, and cheeky grin stealing across his face for a moment, before he says, “Aye aye, captain!” and picks Duke up like he weighs nothing and flies up through the ceiling.
Duke is able to hear everyone’s surprised, panicked shouts before they’re outside the Fortress of Solitude and Phantom is flying them away. He only needs a few directions from Duke before he finds the first of the large fractures in the sky.
“Yikes,” is all he says, which is not a great thing to hear. “I think I know how to fix it, though. We’ll need to do a little investigating as to who, exactly, started messing around with reality, but once we find the source, it’ll be an easy fix.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”
“Even better than meeting your soulmate?”
“I haven’t slept for more than four hours all week. Knowing there’s an end in sight beats everything else.”
Phantom laughs, throwing his head back and Duke can’t help but drink in the sight of him, so ethereal and bright and full of life. “Fair enough! Got any ideas as to where we should start?”
“I’ve got an entire crew of detective vigilantes,” Duke replies. He’s not taking any more chances. No more waiting to talk about important things; he messed up by keeping his soulmark to himself, so he needs to make sure everyone meets his soulmate before shit goes south again.
“Let’s go find them, then!”
They take off again, soaring through the skies that are barely holding themselves together.
The world is still ending, and every hero is being stretched thin, but held carefully in Phantom’s arms, racing head first into a solution, Duke can’t help but feel that everything’s going to be alright now.
He’s had enough bad luck. Now, his soulmate with him, bearing the title of King with grace, things are finally starting to look up.
#ghostlights#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#dc x dp fic#prompt fill#my writing#when its the end of the world but youre soulmate is here and ready to help fix it#meanwhile constantine had gone ON and ON about how dangerous summoning realms beings are#and all the precautions they have to take and how to be specific when making deals etc etc#it was supposed to be only the justice league but with the world ending they wanted their proteges and allies with them in case things#went wrong w the summoning. and with the rest of the bats helping out in gotham and around the east coast#signal gets to join batman. plus hes got his meta powers that could help in the worst case scenario#NO ONE predicated signal and the GHOST KING being SOULMATES#batman leaves for gotham immediately. updates the rest of the team w 'ghost king successfully summoned. he's signal's soulmate.'#and does not respond to ANYONE after dropping that bomb on them lol#they do all get to meet phantom when they join forces to find whatever doomsday cult caused all this#and the world gets saved!!#also. semi related to all this. the speedesters are gone bc time went wacky and they tried to fix things. but then the speedforce kinda#came to life and trapped them. so they have been lowkey eaten by the speedforce bc the speedforce is the true eldritch monstrosity here#anyways. thanks for the prompt!!#working on ur other two prompts now :)
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Hello! I just want to start off by saying you're an absolutely amazing writer! I've been reading your blog for two years now, I believe, or something very close to it, and I still find myself awestruck by your talent when I check your blog, which is pretty much daily!
If you're up for the prompt and if you're not too swamped with requests, could I ask for a blurb with bombshell reader x Spencer? Maybe reader makes him something really sincere and handmade? Maybe a baked good or a knitted sweater? No special occasion needed, just because he deserves it 😋
Thank you for sharing your works with us! Be well and remember to take breaks! Love you Jade!!
Thank you my love, that is so kind! Love you♡
You feel sleek walking into the office that morning. Fitted clothes steamed and pressed, hair freshly upkept at the salon the previous weekend, nails manicured, smile primly painted, you look perfect.
But that's not what you're excited about.
Spencer lounges cross-legged at his desk, a book in his lap, surprisingly broad shoulders hunched as he reads at a more natural pace than usual. His desk is cluttered in organised chaos, books lining the partition that separate his desk from Derek's and Emily's, strange knickknacks scattered. There's a bunch of bright squishy things from Penelope, an upside down umbrella statue lined with hair elastics, and, cutest of all, his two photo frames. One of him holding baby Henry, and one of you. You and him, of course, but mostly you in the frame, closer, smiling like you love him as you angle the camera back in a well meaning and misaligned self portrait.
You do love him. He hasn't caught on yet, is all.
"Spencer," you greet, hoping he won't jump. He flinches minutely and lifts his head to yours, closing the book against his hand. "Sorry, I was trying to make it so you didn't jump."
"My fault." He rubs his eyes. "Just been reading this book for so long it's messing with me."
The book, of which he's told you about in detail, is about a documentary, which is in turn about a bunch of dark, ever-changing rooms, hallways and tunnels from within a house. The line between what's fiction within fiction blurs, and it's actually pretty scary if he's to be believed. "I've never seen you take so long reading one book, even if it is eight hundred pages," you say teasingly, letting the handle of your handbag slip down your shoulder.
"The point is suspense," he says, eyes following your fingers where they dive into your bag. "Which needs time to build. What are they?"
"These are for you, handsome."
"You already gave me a present," he says quizzically.
His birthday was a few days ago, and he's right. "These aren't for your birthday, Spence."
He cracks the lid off of the tupperware on side at a time like he's scared he'll ruin the sweet treats within. You've made him fresh baked shortbread biscuits dipped in dark-chocolate and topped with sparse coconut shavings.
"What are these?" he asks.
You both know that he knows they're cookies, so you answer the unasked question instead. "I wanted to make them for you. I think you'll like them, they're a little rich but the coconut helps even it out. You don't have to try them now or anything–"
"Can I?" he asks, lips quirked into a gentle pout.
"Sure." You hide your nerves as he bites into one, the cookie itself breaking softly, crumbs falling into his waiting hand. "They're messy. Should've warned you."
He puts the uneaten half back in the tupperware and places it atop his closed book on the desk. He's nodding as he stands, arms quick over your shoulders. You can hear him swallow, his voice mildly hoarse as he says, "They're so nice," he praises, clearing his throat, "I think I swallowed too fast." His laugh warms your ear. "I can't believe you made those. How long did it take you?"
"Not that long," you say, beaming as he pulls away. "I knew you'd like them."
"It helps that you made them." He holds your elbow. "I don't know how to say thanks."
You raise your cheek. "Only if you want."
He kisses your cheek. You smile like a fool and giggle much the same, reaching around his arms to nab a cookie for yourself. They'd tasted nice last night when you tried them, but they're perfect after Spencer's praise.
"No one's ever baked something for me before," he admits, the two of you standing much too close considering the setting. "I mean, there really wasn't a reason?"
"No, Spence. I was watching some TV last night when I started thinking about you, and I recently got that cookbook, you remember? That was one of the dessert recipes. I had to make two batches because I put too much butter in the first try and they spread flat as a nickel."
He smiles at your misfortune. "What?" you ask. "What's funny about that?"
"It's not funny. You made me cookies and when they went wrong you made me more. I don't know what I–" His hand flirts with your elbow, index finger moving with a mind of its own, tickling you through your thin blouse. "You're amazing."
"You make me really happy." You look down at his hand where it draws a line. "It makes me happy to be able to do something for you."
Spencer can evidently see you turning shy, and he's a sweetheart, so he rescues you from your timidity with a life jacket. "Is there anything you can't do?"
"Not that I've found so far, handsome. Why, did you have something in mind?"
He makes a big and genuine laugh, grabbing two cookies and forcing one into your hand. "You have to eat your share before Emily gets here." He nudges your hand up with his. "Go on. I'm not in the mood to share with anyone but you."
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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— TAMED
PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — You're a cat lover and Feyd-Rautha reminds you of one. You want him and you believe you can tame him.
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — This is not exactly what the request was about but it includes Feyd having to deal with his wife's pet (I chose a cat because I'm a cat person myself). You see, I was a bit tired of my Readers being afraid and scared and I was also tired of the arranged marriage trope, which is one of my favourites, but everyone needs a break, huh? 😅
WARNINGS — harm to animals mentioned, brief mentions of Feyd's traumatic past, Reader being absolutely spoiled
WORD COUNT — 4,230
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
TAMED
“I want him,” you announced as you put your binoculars down and your lips curled into a smirk.
Your parents looked at each other, confused. You were in the stands as the guests invited to watch Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s gladiator fight. It was his birthday and his uncle made sure all the leaders of the befriended worlds were watching the display of violence and power. The display that made your parents absolutely terrified but you… You were amazed and aroused. The way young Feyd-Rautha defeated his enemies was like a brutal dance; a raw ritual. He was a feral feline and you were known to be a cat lover.
“Excuse me?” Your father asked.
“I want him. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you repeated without even looking at him. Your eyes were focused only on the man in the arena who was raising his knife in a gesture of victory.
“These people are insane,” your mother hissed.
“You keep telling me it’s time for me to find a husband. I want him,” you pouted. You were determined – but not desperate.
“I can talk to Baron Harkonnen. But I am sure he would rather marry his nephew and heir to one of the Imperial Princesses,” your father informed you as your mother gasped at his words. She opposed the idea of this match completely.
“I understand,” you nodded. “Just do whatever it takes so if you fail, I will know you couldn’t possibly do more.”
He reluctantly agreed as he squeezed your cheek as if you were still a little girl. But perhaps it was a good thing that in his eyes you still were one. Because he would do anything to make you happy and fulfil your every whim.
You spotted your father talking to Baron Harkonnen during his nephew’s birthday party but you didn’t want to just stand in the corner and wait for the men to make decisions in your name. Despite your mother’s protests, you approached Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen and bowed slightly in sign of respect. He tilted his head, reminding you of a curious cat. You giggled and he squinted his eyes.
“Na-Baron, I couldn’t wait to meet you in person after seeing you fight in the arena,” you admitted.
“Lady (Y/N),” he greeted you coldly. “I wouldn’t expect such interests from a lady like you.”
“And I expected you would know more about the female nature,” you teased him and visibly angered him although he was trying to be on his best behaviour around guests. “Don’t you know that ladies love violence? The interesting ones at least,” you shrugged your arms.
“I don’t care what ladies like,” he answered. “I always get what I want either way.”
“I’m sure you do,” your eyes sparkled at a possibility of being one of the things he would want to claim for himself.
Most noble women were scared and disgusted after hearing all the stories about Feyd-Rautha and his sexual appetite, his psychotic nature. They would approach him only when needed and tried to stay away as far as possible. You were the very rare breed of women who would actually take interest in him and that intrigued him as he looked you up and down.
You gave him one last smile and walked back to your worried mother who was about to scold you for your reckless behaviour. However, for the rest of the night you kept glancing at the young na-baron and he was looking back.
When you left the party, earlier than most people, you made sure to announce loud and clear that you were about to retire to your chambers. Then you looked deep into his eyes and walked out, followed by a servant. You dismissed her when you were in the guest wing and you continued your journey alone and as slow as possible.
You looked around but Feyd-Rautha seemed not to be following you. At least you could not see nor hear him and for a moment you thought you failed. After all, you were not a skilled seductress, you only did what your heart was telling you to do – your heart and your experience with the animals you loved the most. Cats.
And just like a cat and a skilled assassin that he was, Feyd silently emerged from the darkness when you were just about to open the doors leading to your bedroom. He was standing right behind you and his ominous presence sent a shiver down your spine.
“What are you doing, na-baron?” You swallowed thickly and shivered.
“Don’t pretend,” he whispered in his raspy voice. “You’re not the first spoiled noble lady who wants to use me for pleasure,” he told you. “What is it? Are you bored? Or engaged to an awful lord and you ant to find out what it’s like to have fun before you are forced to spend the rest of your life with him? Honestly, I don’t care,” he admitted and turned you around to face him. His touch was rough and for a second you genuinely felt scared when he trapped you between the doors and his muscular body.
The way he was staring down at you felt as if he was penetrating your soul. Only that his eyes were empty. He was gazing into you but you couldn't gaze back because he didn’t have a soul. There was an endless coldness in his pupils. And so much pain.
“It’s a misunderstanding,” you whispered, almost inaudibly, as the tips of your noses brushed against each other. “I am not one of those women. The only man who can take me will be my husband,” you tried to sound convincing and stern but with a small dose of innocence. He blinked slowly, surprised by your confession.
“I thought you wanted me to follow you,” he insisted.
“No,” you lied. “I was only looking at you because I find you interesting,” you looked down. “But it’s sad what you’ve just told me, my Lord,” you added.
“Why?” Feyd was confused as he took a step back.
“I don’t know… I just think you’re so much more than a toy to use for pleasure,” you looked up again to meet his gaze. “I don’t think you should let those ladies treat you like that. I know you keep telling yourself you like it but it’s not you always getting what you want. It’s them always getting what they want until there is nothing left of you, is it not, na-baron?” You batted your eyelashes and he took another step back, like a predator realising that the prey he had caught was poisonous. “Good night, my Lord… and happy birthday,” you gave him a soft smile and disappeared behind the doors leading to your bedroom.
You couldn’t sleep all night, clutching on the bedsheets and hoping for the best outcome. In the morning your father told you that The Baron was slowly starting to like the idea of your marriage union with his nephew. Apparently, he changed his mind after a conversation with Feyd-Rautha in the early morning.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” your father warned you at the sight of your wide smile.
“Oh, papa, I always do,” you assured him, already excited about your new pet kitty.
You stayed on Giedi Prime for a month for the courting process but Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen had the privilege of being able to call off the engagement at any moment. That, however, did not happen. He was growing more and more fond of you each day. You were watching him train and walking all around the fortress as he was telling you about his family’s history and culture. You were the most fascinated by the war stories and weapons, always eager to learn more. Always eager to let him steal a kiss here and there, let his hands wander but always stepping back when it would get too heated. You didn’t want him to use you and then discard you. No, he had to be patient for the real reward. Just like cats would lose interest if you let them catch the mouse too quickly.
What you noticed about him, though, was how much he avoided the intimate physical touch. He didn’t mind his opponents striking him or choking him, violating his body in any way, really. But the delicacy was making him flinch and startle to the point of aggression. He wouldn’t lash out at you but he would do that often at the servants. When it was you trying to caress him, he was clenching his jaw and shooting you a deadly glance. The more you knew about him, the more convinced you were that he was just a cat in a human form.
When a month passed, you were scared he would send you away. But instead of doing so, he sent a tailor and a bunch of servants to your room. It was time for you to make all the required fittings for your wedding dress. You sent out the invitations, too. And in the letter addressed to your parents, you mentioned all the things you wanted them to bring you to Giedi Prime.
One of them was your favourite kitty Mephisto.
On the first day of your marriage you were unpacking the boxes from home as Feyd was sitting up in bed and watching you. It was the only day he allowed himself to skip the daily training as the activities between a husband and a wife could count as one, too. However, you required a break and wanted to finally reunite with your favourite items… and your favourite pet.
Feyd’s eyes widened at the sight of a hairless cat in the arms of the servant girl.
“What is that monstrosity?” He asked you.
“That’s Mephisto! My cat!” You took him from the girl’s arms and cuddled him. “Oh, mummy’s been missing you, baby,” you cooed to him and he started to purr.
“You can’t be serious, wife,” Feyd moved closer to inspect the creature with his eyes. Mephisto hissed and you giggled. “That is a cat?”
“You’ve never seen one?” You asked.
“I have. But not like that. It’s ugly,” Feyd scrunched his nose.
“Why ugly?” You gasped and held Mephisto’s head lovingly as if you were protecting him from your husband’s harsh words.
“Cats have fur. This one is so…”
“Bald?” You teased and he closed his mouth, realising the irony. “I have plenty of cats back home but I was aware I couldn’t bring them all here. I chose Mephisto because he is my favourite. We had tough beginnings. He didn’t trust me and he was scratching me a lot. He’s a mean-mean baby,” you leaned in to kiss the cat and Feyd winced as he found it disgusting.
“Do whatever but I don’t want this creature in my chambers,” Feyd stated.
“You’re insane! Mephisto will never leave these chambers. I don’t want him to get lost or hurt in the fortress. Also, he always sleeps with me,” you protested.
Feyd took a deep breath in as he closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down.
“If he scratches one thing… I will throw him out of the balcony door,” he threatened.
“If you do that, I will never speak to you again. And certainly I won’t ever share the bed with you, husband. Mephisto is like a child to me. You can’t threaten me this way. It does nothing but anger me,” you pointed out and cuddled the cat. “Aw, Mephisto, look, daddy’s angry.”
“I am not this thing’s… father,” Feyd drawled through gritted teeth as he stood up to put a robe on. “After all, I think I will go train today.”
“Then go,” you shrugged your arms. “I will cuddle with Mephisto in the meantime because I haven’t seen him in a month.”
Feyd shot you an angry glance.
“You’re not jealous, are you?” You looked up as that sudden realisation hit you.
“No,” he snorted. “Of this thing? Please,” he sneered at you and left the chambers.
“We have lots of work with your new daddy, Mephisto,” you chuckled to the kitty and kissed its head. He meowed at you.
Feyd-Rautha absolutely despised your cat. He hated that you allowed that creature to sleep in bed with you and you were always holding him in your arms. When Feyd was working on paperwork – which he hated – Mephisto would often jump on his desk and bother him. Many times when you were out of the room, Feyd had the urge to grab the creature and throw it out of the balcony or even snap its neck but when he actually extended his hands to catch the cat, the urge disappeared.
First of all, he didn’t want to hurt you. And that was a brand new feeling for him because never before had he cared about someone’s feelings like that. And second of all, the moment the cat was in his arms, Mephisto would start to purr and rub his head on Feyd’s hand or chest. Even though at first he found it disgusting, he quickly started to enjoy it. There was something comforting in the cat’s touch. It was not human and yet so pure. As time passed, he was allowing Mephisto to nap on his lap as he worked on the papers. Of course he would quickly put the cat away whenever someone was coming. He didn’t want anyone to see him so weak.
But he was jealous of the cat, too. He was jealous of the kisses and attention he was getting. The belly rubs and scratches behind the ear. The way Mephisto would curl up and sleep on your chest. Feyd craved it from you, too, but he didn’t know how to allow himself to ask for it. It would be humiliating, he thought, but also dangerous. He wanted to trust you but he was not able to. And whenever you tried to touch him gently, he was haunted by the memories he didn’t want to remember. He didn’t cuddle you at night and he didn’t allow you to do the same. While performing the marital duties, he had a feeling they would be even better if he allowed himself a little gentleness but he just couldn’t let his guard down. Not even around you.
For a long time, Mephisto was the only creature that saw the soft side of your husband. When they were alone in your chambers, Feyd would let him not only nap on him but he would also carry him in his arms and pet him. Sometimes he was starting fights for the cat to scratch and bite him and for Feyd it was great fun. They created a bond that you had no idea about. You kept thinking that your husband despised Mephisto and he didn’t mind you thinking this way.
So, when you spotted a scratch on Feyd’s desk one day, you panicked. You quickly covered it with a few papers laying aside and fixed your hair right before your husband walked inside the chambers that afternoon.
“What are you doing here so early?” You asked as he squinted his eyes at you, suspiciously.
“I have to work on the papers, answer some stupid letters,” Feyd sighed and approached you. He put his hands on your waist and inspected your suspicious face. “Is everything alright, wife?” He asked.
“Yes, my dear, perfectly fine,” you faked a smile. “I have to go and work on the preparations for the event next week,” you reminded him and he nodded before leaning in to give you a possessive kiss. He would give you them a few times a day to remind you to whom you belonged. Not that you minded. After all, you had been wanting this from the moment you had seen him in the arena.
“See you later, then, wife,” Feyd sat by the desk and your heart skipped a beat when you spotted him picking up one of the papers you had used to cover the scratch with. However, he didn’t seem to notice the damage done to his desk. You sighed with relief and left the chambers, hoping that Feyd would continue to be blind when it came to that scratch.
But when you came back to your bedroom two hours later, it was empty. You didn’t expect to see Feyd because he had his other duties to perform on that day. What worried you was the fact you couldn’t find your cat. After crawling all over the floor like a madwoman, trying to see if he was not hiding under any furniture, you just burst into tears in the middle of the carpet. You were sure that Feyd had spotted the scratch and gotten rid of your cat. After all, he had threatened to do so on the very first day of your marriage.
You pulled your knees to your chest and rested your forehead on them as you sobbed, hugging yourself. You could only blame yourself. Your parents had been warning you about the Harkonnens but you still wanted a man like Feyd-Rautha as your husband. Hoping to tame him as it would boost your spoiled ego even further to do that. And now your innocent little kitty was a victim of his fury. Was Mephisto still alive? You hoped so. But even if… how would he survive on Giedi Prime? He would not. And you would not either without him. He was your anchor.
You didn’t want to complain about your husband’s homeplanet because you chose him to be your husband yourself. And some part of you loved him – even though at the moment you weren’t so sure anymore – but it was not a friendly place. And it was not pleasant. It was cold and scary and colourless. Mephisto was reminding you of home. Of your other kittens, of your parents, of the real sunlight. He was also letting you love him like your husband would never do. And he was loving you back… unconditionally. And now he was gone. Your little baby.
You couldn’t tell for how long you had been sobbing like this. It could be hours. When Feyd came back to your chambers, he froze at the sight of you in such a position on the carpet.
“What happened, wife?” He asked as he stood above you. You didn’t answer, too angry at him. He sighed and crouched down to be on your level. “Are you hurt?”
“Yes, I am,” you finally looked at him, furiously. He seemed to be surprised. “I am hurt by what you have done. And now you’re going to pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about, right? Go to hell. I hate you,” you snapped and hid your face again.
“I don’t understand. Can you explain this to me?” He asked, slowly, trying not to snap back at you.
“Mephisto! You got rid of him!” You sobbed.
“What? I have not…” He stuttered and put his arms on your shoulders to make you look up again. So you did but you were as angry as before.
“Don’t lie to me. You hated that cat and you just threw him away because he scratched your desk. Congratulations, Feyd-Rautha, you got rid of an innocent animal, you won with a sinless little baby; my baby. Are you proud of yourself? Was it a satisfying victory to hurt a little kitty?”
Feyd didn’t answer, he was staring at you as if you were crazy.
“It really feels as if you killed my baby,” you told him. “And I will never forgive you.”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t touch him. What happened?” Feyd shook your arms.
“He’s not here. I don’t know what you’ve done to him but he’s not here,” you sniffled.
“I didn’t do anything!” He protested.
“I don’t believe you!” You moved back, you hated to feel his touch on you. You clumsily stood up and curled on the bed. “I don’t want to see you. Go away. I wanted to love you but you’re rotten to the core. You’re just evil. Unlovable,” you muttered.
You couldn’t know how hurtful your words were. But Feyd didn’t blame you because you couldn’t know his true feelings. And he focused more on Mephisto anyway. He was worried about the kitty, too. So, after a while of staring at you without a word, he put his hand on his hip and looked around, as if he would magically find the cat. He even looked under the bed as your sobs filled the room.
Without a word, Feyd left the bedroom and you hugged your own arms as the pillow under your head was getting wet from your tears.
It was dark already and you were half asleep when the doors opened again. It brought you back from the state of slumber but you felt too hopeless to even lift a hand to turn on the light. You recognised Feyd’s silhouette approaching you so you decided to ignore him completely. Nothing could fix this damage. Never.
You felt him sitting on the edge of the bed while turning the bedside lamp on. You squinted your eyes at the sudden brightness.
“I found him,” Feyd’s whisper made your eyes open as you sat up rapidly, utterly shocked at the sight of Mephisto in your husband’s arms.
“Wh-what?” You asked. At first, your sleepy and foggy brain refused to believe that the cat was really your Mephisto.
“He was hiding in the dungeons,” Feyd explained. “I searched through the whole fortress to find him. Hired half of the guards to help me. My uncle found it hilarious,” Feyd handed you the kitty and you sobbed out of relief. Mephisto was stinking but he was alive and healthy. You hugged him tight to your chest. “One of the servants was not cautious enough and left the doors ajar when she was cleaning here.”
“Which one?” You asked, angrily.
“It doesn’t matter. I have dealt with her already,” Feyd assured you and you nodded.
You suddenly began to feel guilty for the way you had treated your husband before. Now, when Mephisto was back in your arms and it was all thanks to Feyd…
“I didn’t expect you to care so much,” you admitted, not wanting to look up and meet his gaze. Your hands focused on caressing the cat. “That you didn’t want me to be sad.”
“You’re my wife of free choice. I don’t want my wife to be sad,” Feyd nodded. “And I wanted the cat back,” he added. You eventually looked up at him, surprised by his confession.
“You hate him,” you reminded him.
“Not at all,” Feyd smirked nervously and you didn’t say anything to that. You had no idea that he actually liked the cat. You still had a lot to learn when it came to the ways in which your husband would show his affection.
“I was cruel to you,” you whispered. “I am sorry.”
“You had your reasons to be,” he only said. “And you were not wrong about me.”
“I was,” you moved to the side gently, making a space in bed for him to lay there, too.
So he did, without a word. And one of his hands actually caressed Mephisto’s head. The cat began to purr and you realised they had already had a bond that you had just not noticed before.
Hesitantly, you dared to raise one of your hands, too. You gently brushed Feyd’s forehead and then his cheek. He didn’t startle this time and you happily began to explore every curve of his beautiful face with your fingertips.
“You’re funny,” you giggled and he looked up, curiously. “You’re the scariest Harkonnen but you’re also the prettiest,” you admitted and he blushed a little. You had never expected to see him blush. “And look at you, you allow me to touch you.”
“It feels good when you do that,” Feyd closed his eyes just like Mephisto had his own pair shut close. You swore, if your husband was an actual animal, he would start purring under your touch.
You felt proud of yourself to tame him. You had known from the moment you had seen him that you would succeed. But it was not the pride that made your heart swell. It was love. There was something about Feyd-Rautha that just made you want to treat him like a kitty, too. Scratch him behind his ear and let him sleep on your chest. Most ladies would call you insane for that but you knew him in a way they would never know him. You leaned in to place a kiss upon Mephisto’s forehead and then you did the same to Feyd-Rautha.
“I’m sorry I have doubted you,” you whispered to him. “You would never hurt me, am I right?”
He only hummed in response, moving even closer to your body. You smiled to yourself.
“I have tamed you, husband, have I not?”
But he didn’t reply. He was already asleep, snoring lightly. You had never seen his face so relaxed and carefree before. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know the answer.
And as much as you loved Mephisto like your own little baby… You had a new favourite pet now.
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i’m your national anthem | eren jaeger
the note ☆ this is part two of my lana coded!eren ‘series’, see part one here. once again my soft spoken and older eren (drooling) spoiling his lovely little wife with everything he can but this time it’s at his place of work after she pays him a visit. it’s not as “cinematic” as the first part but i like this one a lot and it’s a birthday gift for myself lmao. inspired by national anthem (demo), lana del rey.
contains ☆ nsfw, fem!reader, stupidlyrich!eren, soft husband!eren, established relationship, semi-public sex (there are cameras), office sex, eren in a yummy suit, lotta praise, oral (m. receiving), handjobs, facefucking, vaginal, sex on a desk, backshots, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, panty stealing (kind of), possessive eren, he likes you in a sundress, use of pet names. black reader as always but it’s all subjective so read if you like it my loves <3
wc ☆ 4k words (it was meant to be much shorter lmao)
eren jaeger is a successful man.
many would even stretch out as to say that he's almost won in life. he's made it on the forbes list, attended every exclusive gathering to be thrown in society, racked up hundreds of thousands of dollars in his chequing account; he's a well deserved ceo—not from start up connections, not from nepotism—eren jaeger has worked his way to the top from down below. and while he's considered to have everything a mortal man could ever dream of, eren believes his true fortune lies within you.
"mr. jaeger?" a timid voice calls from the entryway to the conference room, where a suit clad eren stands at the table's apex, which holds a stack of printed papers, with two other shareholders seated at the sides listening in on his presentation.
another thing about eren is that he likes rules—he has rules. there are rules employees know not to break; no bribes, no in house disputes, and certainly no entering his boardroom when having a meeting with his shareholders without his request. so when one of his brightest interns shifts uncomfortably under his gaze with a look of fear morphing his facial features, eren knows he’s been asked to do so by someone with more power than even him.
"i take it that my wife is here?" eren breathes, mindlessly running a hand through messy growing hair but still refusing to acknowledge the fact that you came at such an inconvenient time. "could she wait for another twenty minutes? we've almost concluded the contracts."
the sorry smile given by the intern is enough of an answer for him, "i don't think it would be appropriate for me to repeat the words she said, but she didn't give off the impression of wanting to wait long, sir."
so…spoiled.
he could already imagine how you would be waiting there; making yourself comfortable up on his desk, legs dangling in your four inch heels and tapping your nails against the glass whilst admiring the photo of the two of you on your honeymoon situated at the desks edge. of course, you would be doing this all with a small pout on your face, ready for you scold him for how long it's taken him to head back to you.
nursing an apologetic smile, he glances towards the man and woman on each side as if silently asking to resume this another time. they wave him off with small laughter, going on about keeping you happy and all the unimportant other things; eren's too preoccupied with going to see you to register their words.
he's quick making his way to the elevator, but not before swiping a single champagne coloured rose from a vase nearby; eren knows he can't show up empty handed, not with you. it's not irregular for you to come to his work so unannounced; at a random time on any given day. you strut around the office like it's yours, you make friends with the secretaries and listen to office gossip like you're one of them, and you tell his assistant all about the plans the two of you have like he doesn't already know. at this point his employees hold you in higher regard than they do him.
it's expected though; seeing how you have their boss contorted around your pretty finger.
your face lights up from it's bored expression when you hear the elevator chime. it takes four of eren's long strides to reach his office doors, and he opens it to a carbon copy of what he'd imagined only minutes ago.
"'ren!" smiling at his tall frame, you open up your arms for him to take. the smell of his rosewood cologne pronounces itself through the hug, which shortly turns into intertwined lips. "missed you." you mutter against his now gloss stained mouth, taking hold of his stubbled chin with long nails to deepen your kiss.
"i missed you too baby, got you this," he mumbles, handing you the flower before steadying his hands on both your sides, essentially baring you to his warm body, "how was your hair appointment?"
"thank you," you soften, casually dipping your nose into the welts of the rose to take in it's scent before continuing, "it was good, didn't take as long as i thought so i wanted to come say hi!" your eyes dilate to black expanses as you properly take him in. eren left early today, so you couldn't get a glimpse of him leaving the house. but seeing him now, with his hair pulled up into it's signature messy ponytail and the blue armani suit you told him buy—you could quite literally drool.
"it looks good." he takes a piece of your hair before leaving it alone. "and your dress looks real pretty on you."
grinning at his words, you shimmy out of his hold; intentionally ignoring the way his eyes follow the dips, curves and pudge highlighted by the sundress you wear. "so, i thought we could eat some food together."
for the first time since entering the room, his eyes shift from you over to the wicker basket on the nearby sofa.
you're sitting on his lap as he rests in his chair, putting some radish on the cucumber roll before feeding it to your husband, "hope i didn't pull you from anything..."
ah…
eren is a calculated man; he doesn't act irrationally. instead, he thinks—thinks for just a few seconds of possible outcomes depending on what he does. but with you? there's no need for that; you probably knew there was a high chance of him being in a meeting, if you weren't already told that by his assistant—so, as always, he chooses the answer that'll ultimately keep you happy.
"hm? nope, nothing important enough."
"oh, mkay." you nod, taking a mini donut from its cute package and popping it into your mouth. after dusting off your hands, you fiddle with the strands of hair that frame his face, “you coming home early today? we can watch that movie i was talking about—and i’ve been dying to get to properly use the theater with you.”
“let me think about it, princess—but i’ll try.” he sports a boyish smile, accepting the water bottle you hand him before watching you clean up the empty trays and takeout boxes. his words are most definitely for show, that man will be home by six instead of eight—hell, make it five.
perhaps eren jaeger truly has won at life; god…you look alluring, walking around his space with your heels like the place is your own, fragrancing the room with the scent of your lotion mixed with the perfume he gifted you. his wandering eye is fixed to your legs, catching how your dress rides up with every step taken.
“can feel you starin’ at me.” you tease in a sing-song voice, wiggling your hips as you bend down to pick up fallen trash.
“good.” his long legs aid him in striding towards your frame, large hands come to rest on your hips from behind. his thumbs begin to rub soft circles on them as he plants a kiss on your forehead, “did my employees see you in this?”
“duh—i had to see them to see you,” you laugh.
you know damn well what this is about, and you find it amusing. for the most part, your husband is a calm man; slow to anger, leans towards calmly solving disputes as opposed to growing aggressive, and when he gets agitated, he takes a break. but at the mere mention of his wife, eren seems to abandon all sensical thoughts of zen he once had.
“any of ‘em stare?”
“dunno.” you respond with a shrug and turn to face eren, smoothing down the collars of his outfit with your hands, “i don’t pay attention to any of them. they’re not you.”
“okay.” he makes his way back to his seat, gesturing to you to follow along. “i really do mean it when i say you look nice in that dress—well, i always mean it but…”
you’re giggling, standing in between his spread legs while looking down at him, “thanks ‘ren.”
“mhm, i’m the luckiest man in the world.”
oh…he has that tone in his voice again; the rasped one that has your legs pressing together when he speaks. it’s the kind that happens when he gets a lustful glint in his eyes—when he wants to fuck you. his hands wander up the fabric of your dress, the feeling of his cold wedding band makes you gasp and steady your hands onto his shoulders for support.
“h-hold on.”
“something wrong?” he stills, “if it’s the cameras, i’ll get the footage removed—or maybe you want me to get a copy of it?”
“nothing’s wrong.” you shake your head, but make a mental note to ask him to indeed grab a copy before deleting it, “just want you to relax for a moment—i know i took you out of that meeting.” you speak as slowly and your fingers move down his arms, keeping his eye contact as you lower your knees to the ground. “‘m sorry love, i wanted to see you for a bit.”
why are you apologizing? there’s no need for you to, there’s never been a need for you to, and eren doesn’t think he would ever make you either.
“let me make it up to you.”
you don’t let him get much of a word out before you’re unzipping his slacks and palming the prominent bulge that greets your eyes. his body shows it’s gratitude by sinking into your ghostly touch. eren can only breath in sharp inhales as you free his dick from it’s confinement, straightening itself out as translucent pre stumbles from the tip. you shouldn’t be shy but eren is big in every sense. and your brain seems to struggle with object permanence; eyes almost blowing open in surprise of how thick he is despite you practically owning it. the phantom ache in your jaw seems to be a warning—you shouldn’t try anything.
but eren’s presence alone overrides all alarms and commands in your brain, and the hazy look he gives you from his seat has you subconsciously wrapping your hand around his base, shifting across the length and tracing the roads and ridges of his veins with your tongue.
he sucks his teeth when you pucker your lips at the slightly pinkish tip, feathering a little kiss before letting spit fall from your mouth and onto his cock. the dribble doesn’t make it past the head before you’re meeting it with your lips, steadily taking him into your stretched walls. the feeling of the burn from your mouth molding in indecent ways would make you wince if not for the effects eren’s soft groans and breaths have on your cloudy mind.
“such a pretty sight. p-pretty fuckin’ view.” a sigh escapes him when you hollow your cheeks. admittedly, it’s nothing like the home he knows your cunt as, but when you bottom out and his tip punches the back of your throat, it seems like the closest thing. it surely is a sight to see: a sweet woman like you, doing something so damn nasty.
your throat tightens with each bob, trying its best to prevent a gag but failing every now and then. still, you plant a hand on his knee for stability to lessen the slight burn in your knees given by the nylon carpet beneath them, and allow the mixture of precum and saliva escape your mouth and dribble everywhere.
“oh, fuck—yeah, you got it.” he’s amazed, seeing you take him like a fucking champion, choking all over him without a single complaint. “that’s my girl.”
despite going nice and slow, you get messy—his dick fucks up your sensory system. glittery tears breach your water line, threatening to drop and roll as you sniffle away.
eren is pulled out of his trance when your mouth escapes him, watching you with a slight furrow in his brow. you gaze at him through your pretty lash extensions, tongue unfurling out for you to tap him on. “tastes so good eren.”
“shit—don’t say that to me.” his whimpers are loud, as loud as his heaves for the same air that seems to avoid him. conscious of the chance that sound could somehow transfer, he drapes his hand across the lower half of his face and captures the guttural groan from his chest.
“you don’t need to be quiet,” your hand grabs hold of his own, carefully guiding it from his mouth to the back of your head. silently, you watch him with admirable and expectant eyes that could make him cum from the sight alone, “don’t you own this place?”
my god… you want him to face fuck you, you’re outwardly asking him to do so without a drop of shame. right until your makeup is ruined and a crying mess from how full your mouth is. he doesn’t do it often—he’s too scared of watching you cough up spit and develop a sore throat the next day for it to happen regularly. besides, eren is a pleaser—very rarely did he have you like this unless you openly wanted it. but with the look of expectation you have, sniffling and pleading for him to help you like a dutiful husband he promised to be, it’s difficult to him to do anything other than comply.
eren wants to give you a standing ovation watching you submissively relax in his tender hold. with eyes full of love, he steadily lines you up with his tip, counting you to three before guiding you down the length of his cock. your husband starts off slow, keeping a nice pace that makes it easy to inhale enough to go back down. but like all things, it grows—grows faster. hands tangle in your hair, driving your head down to meet him halfway; you gag and choke and drool out the corners of your mouth, you dig and scratch with your nails, you savour quick inhales that are quickly consumed and leave you with even less air than before.
the tip of your nose tickles the pubic hair at his pelvis as he holds your head steady at his base. the cut off of circulation has your eyes going spotty, but the lightheadedness just feels so so so good.
upon seeing the twitch in his brow and the rapid rise and fall of his chest, your breath hitches—he’s going to cum if you continue. whatever words you attempt to speak translates to vibration that makes his dick jump, so twice, you pat his arm.
there’s a look of panic on his features, ignoring the mess left on his lower body and he releases you from his grasp. almost subconsciously, he pushes all traces of hair from your face, cupping you cheeks and forcing you to look at him, “did something happen? are you alright? was it too much—i’m sorry, love.”
“no.” you shake your head, moving from the position in front of him that made your knees ache and buckle. quietly, you turn your back to him, hazardly pressing your body into his desk while your hands tease up the back of your thighs, dragging the dress’s fabric along with it. “just want you to cum inside, it doesn’t feel as good when you don’t.”
symphonies ring through his head: eren is sure he’s won at life—and he’s going to be selfish with it. you’re his freedom—your pussy is his national anthem, not the fucking two minute song that rings monotonely in his mind after hearing it. he can’t rip his eyes away when your dress climbs up and over your ass; it exposes your thong and it’s practically swallowed by the folds of your pussy, which leaves a damp spot right near its entrance.
“oh, eren…” you sigh in relief at the feeling of your hand fumbling to pull your panties to the side for your husband to see just how wet you get on the mere thought of him. your fingers are met with no friction as you slowly rub your clit, nails clacking against each other and you spread the slick that coats your cunt.
you pull away from yourself with a string connecting your fingers to your pussy, all before giving it a few love taps once more. “‘s all yours.”
it’s all his…what a fucking lucky man. your scent has commanding control over him, clinging to his body and moving him towards you like a puppeteer and he’s the woodwork. hands rounding over the fat of your ass, he makes quick work of pulling your thong off one leg and letting it pool at your ankle. he’s not afraid to admit it: eren jaeger will die for this pussy—his wife’s pussy.
he makes quick work of you, slotting his dick within your folds, fucking himself up against your clit a few times before convening at your hole. he sheaths himself inch by inch, reveling in the soul snatching grip you welcome him with. the pulsation of your spongy walls almost bites at him—cause a stuttered moan to fall from him as he bottoms out into you.
“fuck!” you squeal at the feeling of his tip budding up against your cervix. frantically, you try to inch forward to build some space between you two.
“nuh-uh, no fucking running,” he sucks his teeth, digging his dull nails in your hips to keep you flush against his body, “take it whole, didn’t i teach you better than that?”
“mm—mhm!” baring your eyes shut, you allow your upper body to relax into the glass surface of the desk while he finds his rhythm. but you’re at a loss for words, mouth hanging open as he drags out to the hilt and buries himself back in until he’s trying to bypass your ass. his repeated strokes strikes against the soft spot at the roof of your cunt, “you’re going so fast.”
“am i—shit—am i supposed to go slow?” he asks knowingly, to which you frantically shake your head no to. had he gone any second slower, you’d be throwing a damn fit, whining about his talking too much time in teasing you and throwing yourself back into his hips instead. “yeah, that’s what i thought.”
each thrust drags out more of the milky white slick that forms a nasty ring around the base of his cock. “r-ren, you’re kissin’ me…” you whine, wiggling and writhing as you feel him reach your cervix—‘n it hurts, hurts real good and eren knows you don’t want him to stop.
your sobs fog up the glass below, and with tear stained eyes you turn your head to look back at your husband. his pace falters when he locks your gaze—it’s hazy and pretty, your once neat waterline is now smudged against your lower eyelids, and your plump lips are in a pout to suppress what would be breathy moans to quick whimpers—all which reach his dick just the same.
eren wastes no time grabbing a hold of your leg and hoisting it up to meet your torso on the table. the new angle gives him leeway to hit deeper—rub against his favourite spot that has you seeing stars.
“fuck, yeah—p-please eren.” you’re babbling incoherently, eyes gluing shut to give yourself some peace of mind as you shift your hips backwards to meet him halfway, “give it to me, jus’ like that!”
oh, shit.
your eagerness messes up his pace, making him curse at the feeling of his cock slipping out of you and instead slipping up against your neglected clit.
“c’mon…put it back in.” you’re whining, rubbing your cunt all over him like the neediest thing he’s ever seen—but you’re so molded to eren; there is undoubtedly nothing else in the world that makes you feel better than the way he does.
“calm down, be patient.” his voice is smooth—firm. it pulls you down into a sense of docility; security. it almost makes you forget how you’re being defiled on the desk where he earns a living so you can wear the pearls on your neck. “you’re so good to me.” he’s mumbling, fucking himself through your folds.
you can hear the sounds of your juices mixing, and eren giving a low groan before bottoming back into your sweet pussy that welcomes him back like a man once at war.
“baby…gonna—i’m gonna cum.” you shake your head at the inevitable—you’re already whimpering and your legs are buckling under the pressurizing buildup in your bottom torso.
and eren? he would never deny you of anything you wanted—in fact, he loves when you cum; your body goes rigid and develops an ironclad grip on him, and your mouth hangs open in the most obscene, yet pretty, way. so he encourages you, coaxes you on by keeping steady, hitting harder.
“f-fuckfuckfuck—fuck!” when your hand shoots down to rub and fuss and your clit, you’re done for.
eren’s strokes don’t stop when you do. instead, he lets you ride out your high right on his dick—and you…your walls are fluttering around him. uncontrolled sobs leave your mouth as you grip onto the table for some sort of stability, “that’s it.”
“you feel good?” he asks, moving your leg from the tabling and bringing you up to meet his body.
your mind is so gone, you can only mirror the words of your husband, “mhm—feels good.”
his hands grab your waist, pulling you down into the chair with him. there’s little time for you to process your surroundings before eren’s got your back flush against him, arms hooked around the back of your legs, bringing them back towards your chest.
“you can take a little more for me, right?” he huffs, blindly navigating himself back into your hole before receiving extra aid from your fucked out self.
truth be told, you’d take anything for eren—even when you’re crying from the sheer overstimulation you feel as he sloppily bounces you on his cock. you can only pray he cums quick, all before you truly start to get messy in his place of work.
“give it to me ‘ren.” moaning sweetly, your hands make their way to the nape of his neck and tug at the hair found in your fist, “c’mon—give me what i came here for.”
and eren…he doesn’t like to keep you waiting.
“fuck—you’re just the most spoiled thing aren’t you?” he moans—truly, he knows there is no one to blame but himself. and when you give him pussy this good, what else can he do?
your heeled feet clack together as eren fucks up into you with little regard for decency. his breathing is erratic, either heavy or almost laboured and still. your name is stuck on his lips—rolling around on his tongue like candy—he says it like a chant, rambling on about how only you can get him like this. shallow groans and grunts as he stills in your cunt—making sure you feel every rope of him by keeping you right on him despite your squirms.
“feel full?”
you scoff playfully, moving from your position once eren lets you, only to see a coy grin settling on his face. he’s not expecting an answer—especially when you return his smile while tugging your dress back down your legs. his eyes follow your movements, watching as you gather the picnic basket, keys to your pink porsche, and lace thong within your hands before making your way back to him.
slotting the underwear into the pocket of his blazer jacket, you whisper, “you’d better be home early, mr. jaeger.”
#eren x reader#eren jaeger x reader#aot x reader#eren jaeger smut#aot smut#eren jaeger x black reader#aot x black reader#eren x black reader#snk x reader#snk smut
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Second Chances 18+
Yandere! Older! Damian Wayne / AFAB Reader
> romantic, 18+
> tw/cw: dub-con, manipulation into sex, gaslighting(?)
> request: Can we get damian gaslighting and manipulating a fem reader into sex when she tries to leave him please :? Like the typical "we've never talked about (insert issue) you know I wouldn't keep doing it if I knew it was upsetting you" and "let me make it up to you"
> a/n: this reader is captain fix-a-hoe i can't
> word count: 2187
> damian wayne is 21
You crane your neck away, but he takes it as an invitation.
“Damian, I…” you struggle.
His hands slide forward underneath your arms, kneading your chest. It does feel good, you regret to admit.
“Okay, okay,” you sigh, trying to inch away but his hands drag you back once more. Not by force, just by suggestion. By pulling the invisible strings that play your body like a fiddle, and it seems this morning Damian wants it to play his favorite song. You shrugged on your flimsiest robe on your way out of bed this morning, and nothing else. So here you were, paying the consequences.
“Mm, maybe later, Damian. I have–” you gasp at a wandering digit “–to run errands today.”
You hear a huff, feel an exhale hit the shell of your ear.
“Errands? Where? With who?”
The questions, absolutely dripping with disdain and suspicion, make something in you snap.
“Oh, that’s it– I want to break up!” you cry out, throwing your hands up. You bound out of his hold, whirling around.
Damian flinches backward as if struck. He had snuck up behind you in the kitchen, peppering kisses along the column of your neck. A sweet gesture, but too little, too late. Fuck waiting until you were better prepared – better scripted – to break up with Damian. You just can’t take it anymore.
Damian stares at you in disbelief.
“You... What?”
You sigh, annoyed at the squeeze of your heart at his dismayed expression. Life as Damian’s girlfriend had been great at first. Like, really great.
Despite his surly exterior and sharp tongue, Damian proved to be nothing less than devoted, adoring, and awfully caring. He was giving and generous. During dates and every minute besides, he was a perfect gentleman. None of your exes had ever opened doors for you. Or pulled your chairs out. Or guided you gently through a crowd of paparazzi with a protective hand on the small of your back.
Maybe it was his unique rich kid training that made him the perfect lover for you: the presence of a British butler in his developmental years paired with the strict assassin upbringing. Or maybe, as your friends claimed, you simply had standards below sea level and were lucky enough to fall for a man who could throw money around without blinking.
You didn’t listen to them, didn’t question your good fortune. You had been glad Damian was in your life. You had been.
“I want to break up,” you say, nearly a whimper. You look away from his shell shocked face. He must have seen this coming, right? How could he not see this coming? You two seemed to barely be getting along these days.
You recall green eyes narrowing after a glance over your outfit. “... I never liked her,” from a sneered lip, when you mention you’re going to your friend’s birthday party. The guilt tripping that occurred once you got home. The unsaid accusations of entirely untrue infidelity. You recall many more instances identical to that. How draining it all was. How you rarely seemed to go anywhere without hesitation, a niggling feeling bidding you to see how Damian felt about it first.
Without missing a beat, Damian’s jaw hardens. He folds his arms.
“You want to break up,” he responds in a clipped voice. “Why.”
‘Why,’ he asks. Though it was hardly a question. He was demanding you answer for yourself. Answer for your crime of daring to maintain agency in your life. How dare you dump him? You narrow your eyes.
“You… you isolate me,” you say, folding your arms and mirroring his stance. You wish you could get angrier. Damian could really bitch out in an argument when he wanted to. Fights felt more balanced if you decided to get angry too. If you didn’t let him kick you around. But any lingering fury has simmered into hurt at this point. Decayed into you prematurely grieving a good thing gone bad.
“You accuse me of things. You don’t trust me! Or worse, you do trust me, and still want to monopolize me because I’m something you own. I… That’s not good,” you blurt.
Damian isn’t moved. He taps his foot, and your eye twitches. “Is that all?” he says.
Perhaps you did have enough anger, after all. Before you can curse him out, Damian takes a step forward, like a piece on a chess board.
“If I had known I would have stopped. Immediately,” Damian presses, not looking very apologetic or thoughtful. He instead looks determined. He seems entirely like his old self, at the very beginning of your then-tenuous friendship. That was three years ago, and you liked to believe he had grown a lot since.
You roll your eyes. “Okay. Good to know,” you return flatly, unsure what he expects you to do with that information.
Another step, and he grasps your arm. Had it been anyone besides him, you would’ve felt fear. But Damian – for all his faults – could never hurt you. Even if he already has, you think drily.
His grip trails down to your hand, and brings it to his chest, above his heart. Your own heart skips a beat at the gesture. “I would have. You’re everything to me.” His heart beats under your palm. It beats for you, he always liked to say.
You cringe. Not at his words, but because of how they’re said. Damian wields them like a weapon. And they’re effective. You already feel guilt begin to fester.
You swat your hand away, scoffing and shaking your head. “It feels like half of the time, you say that to make me feel like shit. It’s… it’s manipulative.”
“Manipulative? So every time I’ve said I… care for you, you felt manipulated?” He looks at you, in a pitiful expression crossed between crestfallen and offended. You sigh, exhausted. That’s not what I meant, you want to interject, but he continues. “I feel… very deeply. For you.”
Even now, sharing his feelings was hard for him. You feel proud that he’s trying. You feel angry that he’s trying. You feel angry that you’re the bad guy. The croak in his voice makes you want to reach for him, but...
“Feelings… feelings aren’t enough,” you say mournfully. You hug yourself, because you need one. And giving one wasn’t his place anymore.
You two stand in silence in his kitchen, which you’ve shared together for a year now. You glance around. You spy your colorful cooking sets, the couple's aprons that hang beside the pantry, the photos of you two at Wayne family holiday parties stuck to the fridge, and other paraphernalia.
You haven’t even left yet, but already you can see the ghost of you that will haunt this house. The hollow chill of guilt sweeps through your body, but you ignore it. You instead tread to one of the kitchen barstools under Damian’s watchful eye and settle on the seat.
“I’ll… I’ll stay at a friend’s,” you say, fighting admirably to keep your voice from cracking. “And I’ll have all my stuff packed within a week.” And you can keep the cat, you want to jest, but you luckily were born blessed with the skill of reading the room. Damian blanches, as if realizing, finally, what you were saying.
“You’re leaving.” God, his utter shock was not making things easier on you.
“We fight all the time now, Damian,” you reason, almost pleading with him. Why was he making this so hard? The entire situation seems so … undignified. ‘Unlike him,’ is what most people would say. But no, this is entirely like Damian. Always deceptively more delicate than what meets the eye. Always trusting you to hold his heart gently. Not rend it to pieces. Guilt swirls once more, while Damian’s shock yields to insistence.
“We fight because we’re in love,” he asserts, confessing. You are in awe of his cheeks flushing - what a pure display to be had during a break up. “People fight when they’re in love. Sometimes.” You frown, knowing he’s referring to his father’s failed relationships. What great role models, you scoff inwardly. You had zero desire to emulate that dysfunction.
“... Don’t you?” he says, a desperate lilt in his voice. You bristle. “... Love me?” And the way he says it breaks something in you.
You respond, the words like ash on your tongue, “Of course I... I do love you, Damian. But–”
“I love you, too,” he says quickly. “... so please, don’t leave.” You start to get up from your seat, unable to withstand anymore of this, when Damian falls to his knees in front of you.
You fill with mortification that Damian may start begging. And you don’t know if you can withstand that. He’s Damian Wayne. He who does not beg.
“... Please,” he begins, as if the word was physically taxing. For him, it probably was. Damian bows his head, dots kisses on the expanse of your thighs. Each kiss is loosening your resolve. Each a balm over bitter wounds.
“You haven’t given me a fair chance to correct myself. That… that’s not fair. That’s cruelty,” he whispers, along with other such mutterings that drive knives into your heart.
How heartless you were being. Were you going to give up on him so easily? Had he not shown he could change? The guilt swarms into an evil, dark monster. One you know you cannot defeat. You throw back your head, trembling from his butterfly kisses.
“Let me… let me make it up to you,” he says after he finds you writhing under his lips. You don’t know what to say, mesmerized by the need in his eyes and the promise in his words. “I can be better. I will be better.”
No, your mind begs you to say.
Yet looking into those green eyes, lost in its dark forest, you can’t deny him.
“... Okay,” you condone. Your okay is barely audible, weak and helpless like pollen in the wind. But it’s enough for him. It’s going to be enough for you, too. It’s okay. He’s going to change. He knows if he doesn’t, you’ll leave. You’ll leave.
You sate yourself with these thoughts, numb to Damian’s continued affection. You finally do realize he’s still licking at you, when a pair of hands gently separate your knees.
“Damian!” you exclaim, snapping your knees shut. Your robe flutters with the action as you look at him with disbelief. “D-Damian,” you say. His eyes flutter open at the calling of his name. You sharply inhale at the lustful glaze over his pretty eyes.
“Let me show you how deeply I feel for you,” he requests.
But you know this is … strange. Maybe even wrong, if the uncertainty in your gut meant anything. You had just agreed to mend your relationship. You didn’t need the throes of an orgasm to complicate and muddle your feelings.
“... Please.” His voice mutters into your thigh. You’re so close you feel the vibration of the sound, and your skin prickles over with goosebumps. That’s the third ‘please’ he’s said within the hour. It's usually three a day. “Unless," Damian says, brows pinched, "you do not want me anymore.” The look on his face makes you feel sick.
You don’t know how you can ever leave him in good conscience. Damian’s grown, yes, but he’s still that confused, frustrated boy from when you met. Still searching for acceptance and belonging.
“Yes,” you blurt. “I want you, but–”
“Then, ‘but’ nothing. You are mine.” You fill with heat, from irritation as well as arousal. It’s not as though you’d stopped being attracted to him, after all.
“I–” am not yours, you begin to combat, when Damian licks a hot stripe up your cunt that makes your mind blue screen.
“And of course, it goes back the same way. I am yours.”
Damian lowers his head, wasting no time in suckling on your clitoris. He knows exactly how you like it, after all. Your hands leave your side and find his hair. You pull on short raven locks, enough that it’s probably painful, but Damian doesn’t protest.
Damian hikes your legs onto his shoulders, and he’s off to work as if you hadn’t been about to break up with him just ten minutes ago. You feel whiplash. It’s all back to normal. You’re together. He’s between your legs. And despite his administrations feeling great, amazing – it also somehow feels like punishment.
He may need you, but you need him as well. Only he can make you feel like this. Only he has ever made you feel like this. The heavy tongue that’s probing into you, the hands whose thumbs draw circles on your skin – they’re his. The pressure building in your body, the pleasure being wrought from you – he causes it. The devotion, safety, security and love you have in your life – it’s due to him.
When you eventually finish in his mouth, you come with a whimper, eagerly being lapped up by the boy before you. He's right. You do belong to him.
And a growing part of your mind is having a hard time finding that so wrong.
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i love poly! Marauders♡
could you make a one shot where the reader gives the boys flowers and handmade gifts for the first time after their first month of relationship?
xoxo
Ugh yes our boys don't get enough gifts! Thanks for requesting gorgeous :)
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
When Sirius answers the door to the apartment he shares with his boyfriends to find you standing there with a bouquet of flowers, he very nearly panics. Naturally, his first thought is of the worst-case scenario: someone else has gotten you flowers, and you’ve decided to break it off with them and be with that fucker. Alternatively, you’re upset that they haven’t gotten you flowers in nearly a week (would those ones have died already? Sirius knows next to nothing about flowers; Remus is supposed to stay on top of that) and have brought an arrangement for them to give you as a not-so-gentle-nudge. He might be sick.
But you’re not deserving of the snappy response that comes to his lips, so Sirius swallows and tries to find his gentlest voice. “Hey there, gorgeous. What’re those for?”
You grin until your cheeks dimple, flushing in the way Sirius has grown familiar with over the past few weeks: you’re excited, but a bit embarrassed to show it. “Happy one-month anniversary,” you say, extending the bouquet to him as James and Remus come into the room behind him, intrigued by what’s keeping their boyfriend so long at the door. Your eyes dart between the three of them in that nervous way of yours as you explain in a rush, “I know it’s silly, but I’ve just been wanting to give you all gifts for a while now, and no one’s birthday is coming up for months.”
“Thanks, dove.” Remus is the first of them to reply, nudging past Sirius to take the flowers from you. James is grinning so hugely it’s pushing his eyes nearly closed, and Sirius suspects he’s staring at you like you’ve hung the moon. “These are beautiful. It’s a month today, really?”
You nod bashfully.
“Then shit,” Sirius says, collecting himself, “you’re not silly; we’re ridiculous for forgetting! Come on in, sweet thing.” He grins at you, and when you shy, as you are wont to do, at his brash manner, James takes your hand and encourages you through the doorway. “Do we have some wine or chocolate or something?”
“We do,” Remus replies, disappearing into the kitchen. “And grapes. Are you alright with white wine, dovey?” You hum in affirmation, and Sirius thanks Merlin for his refined boyfriend, without whom he and James would stock the apartment entirely with crisps and pot noodles.
James takes you to the living room, sitting you beside him, probably not as close as he’d like but wary of making you jumpy. Sirius isn’t so cautious, plopping down next to you so that your legs and hips are squished together simply because he delights in making you flush.
“Leave off ‘er,” James says defensively, and Remus returns, laying the snacks and refreshments on the table before sitting beside Sirius and encouraging him to lean on his shoulder. Sirius huffs in protest, but goes willingly.
His problem taken care of, James turns his attention back to you. “Thanks for the flowers, sweetheart,” he says, and Sirius notices that Remus must have found a vase for them while he was in the kitchen. They’re sitting in the center of the coffee table, arranged prettily in water. “You didn’t need to get us a gift, but that’s so lovely of you.”
You bite your lip, and Sirius knows you have something to say before you say it. “I, um…” you play with your fingers. He wants to take them in his hands, spreading each one between his own. “I’m really glad you like them, but those actually aren’t the gifts I was talking about.”
Sirius watches as James’ expression turns giddy at the plural there. Gifts.
You reach into your bag and pull out a pair of gloves. They’re gray, and they look thick, like they’re made out of some sort of knit material. They’re also huge. You extend them to Remus. “I know you can never find ones that fit,” you say hesitantly, “so I’m hoping these might work? I couldn’t measure to get it exactly right, but I think they’re big enough.”
Remus takes them with something akin to awe in his expression, and Sirius’ mouth goes dry as realization dawns upon him. He’d always thought Remus cut the fingers off his gloves because it looked cool (admittedly, there had been several years when Sirius had copied him for that very reason), but it was because they didn’t fit. His lengthy, slender fingers had to be too long for most gloves. Sirius felt stupid for not realizing it. He glances at James, finding a similar expression of dumbfounded epiphany on his boyfriend’s face. They’d both known Remus for years, and you’d picked up on his plight over the course of a month.
“Did you make these?” Remus breathes, taking the gloves from you gingerly.
“Mhm,” you nod, proud and sheepish at the same time. “I crocheted them.”
“You…they’re perfect. Thank you, dove.” Remus looks the softest Sirius thinks he’s ever seen him, and he feels like someone’s scooped out his guts and replaced them with syrup.
“No problem.” Your cheeks dimple as you duck your head, digging through your bag again. This time you emerge with something red, also crocheted, and vaguely rectangular, turning to James.
He looks at you adoringly as he takes it, but it’s clear he’s as clueless about what it is as Sirius feels.
“It’s a glasses case,” you supply. “I don’t know if you even want one, but you’re always breaking them by knocking them off the nightstand, and I thought maybe it’d help.” You shrink a bit. “Don’t worry about it if you don’t want to use it.”
“‘Course I’m using it.” James sounds appalled, and he takes your hand in his, squeezing gently until your smile returns. “This is so thoughtful of you, angel. Really, thanks so much. I’m going to use it every night.”
You grin hugely, all but glowing at his praise, and when you turn back to your bag, and Sirius is almost surprised there’s still one left for him. As if sitting here, basking in the happiness of all the people he cares about most, isn't enough of a gift.
Still, that doesn’t mean he’s not curious what it is.
You pass him a small pouch, and you’ve made it purple with a black star in the middle. Sirius loves it without knowing what it’s for. Hell, he doesn’t even care if it has a utility, he wants to frame it on his wall.
“I know you drop your earbuds a lot,” you say, “so I thought maybe you could put them in here sometimes, to protect them. I put little loops on it in case you want to carry it or attach it to something, but you could just keep it in your pocket, if you want.”
Sirius takes his earbuds out from his pocket, slipping them into the little case, and they fit perfectly inside. He grins at you, and when you smile back, the corners of your eyes crinkling, his restraint snaps. He lunges for you, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and cradling your head with the other hand. His heart aches, and it's as much for the thoughtfulness and care you put into his own gift as it is for the joy you’ve given to Remus and James. He doesn’t think his heart can handle carrying around this much love. “Thank you,” he murmurs into your hair, and your arms come around his middle, squeezing tight.
He takes his time in releasing you, but when he does you’re immediately captured by James, who kisses the side of your face haphazardly. Remus has gone mute beside him, but Sirius suspects both boys are feeling overcome by the same desperation to express their appreciation as he is. He doesn’t think they’ll ever get close.
“Fucking one-month anniversary,” he says, and he sounds breathless even to his own ears. “I hope you’ve kept the night free, gorgeous, because now you have to let us take you out to dinner.”
#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders oneshot#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#marauders#the marauders#marauders era#james potter#james potter x reader#sirius black#sirius black x reader#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader
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Never Let You Go || Aaron Hotchner
Summary: Request - Hiya! Can i request an angsty/fluffy aaron fic?Aaron and reader get into a fight because reader has been ignoring hotch since he forgot her birthday (its been a week after at that point) so he confronts her and they fight.... Read Rest Here
A/N: You guys have the best requests. Please keep sending them in. Hope you like a good little hurt/comfort.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
TW: Yelling, intentional hurt
It was a rainy Saturday night when your heart broke for the hundredth time under the false promises from your longtime boyfriend, Aaron. You knew what you were getting into when you got into the relationship all those years ago. You knew he worked long hours. You knew he had a son who was his, and now your, priority. You knew he would have to cancel plans, dates, anniversaries. You knew it all. What you didn’t expect was him to forget about your birthday completely. He was home, at the BAU, and worked late instead of coming home and taking you out. You had plans! But he just… forgot.
It wasn’t until you brought it up the next day, mumbling it to him with a saddened look did he recognize he had forgotten. What broke your heart was the fact that he didn’t even make up for it. He didn’t get you flowers or a gift or even apologize. He just… moved on. And you had no idea how much it bothered you until that fateful Saturday night as the rain poured down. You were angry at him. You had accepted the misses and the cancelations. What you couldn’t get over was the fact that he had forgotten it completely and didn’t even want to make it right.
When you heard the lock twist and Aaron entered your shared residence all you wanted to do was run away from him. You didn’t want to talk to him. You didn’t even want to look at him. You weren’t sure if you even wanted to be with him anymore.
When he walked into the kitchen you turned away, busying yourself with unloading the dishwasher.
“Hey baby.” He walked over to you giving you a hug from behind. Aaron wasn’t remiss to the way you tensed under his touch. How you simply mumbled something incoherent to him. It was when you pushed him away did he finally realize something was off.
“Honey, what’s up?” He asked.
Was he playing dumb? Did he really not know just how deeply he had hurt you by ignoring something you loved so much? You knew it was silly, but birthdays were your thing. You were the friend who went all out for others. You just wanted someone to celebrate you the way you had to others, especially Aaron.
You felt tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as your brain got yourself worked up. Maybe it was best to just keep quiet because you had no idea if you could hold back the waterworks. So, instead of answering him you simply walked away. Your momma always taught you it was best to not get into an argument when you were feeling emotional about the situation.
But that seemed to set him off further. You had been cold to him all week. Not greeting him like you normally did. Not leaving out his dinner like you so often would when he worked late. Yet you just couldn’t seem to care. If he didn’t care for you why should you return the favor?
He couldn’t take it anymore. So, he snapped at you. "Are you ever going to talk to me?" Aaron's voice breaks the suffocating silence in the home, the frustration evident in his tone. You were thankful Jack was sleeping over at a friend’s house now. You knew the inevitable fight was bound to happen.
You sat down on the couch, but you didn’t dare turn to face him. "What's there to talk about?" Your voice is icy, the bitterness seeping through each word.
Aaron took a step closer to you, the distance between you feeling like an icy rift he wasn’t quite used to with you. "You know exactly what we need to talk about," he retorts, his patience wearing thin. "You've been ignoring me ever since—"
"Since you forgot my birthday?" You cut him off sharply, your voice laced with resentment. "Yeah, I remember. You’re a profiler. Profile it Aaron." Venom was laced in your voice as you finally made eye contact.
His jaw clenches at the reminder, guilt gnawing at his insides. He messed up, and he knows it. And he knew he had been ignoring it. Ignoring the subtle signs, you left him. He knew how important these things were to you. And he took the cowards route of simply trying to ignore it. He knew better than to do that with you. He had been taking advantage of your kindness thinking you would simply ignore it. But you were reaching your breaking point. And he was exhausted from work. He simply knew this wasn’t about to be a good conversation.
“Look, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” He offered. But the effort felt hallow.
You shook your head blinking back the tears. “You’re just saying that because I’m angry! You had no intention of making it right Aaron!” You hardly ever raised your voice yet here you were, yelling at the man who looked overly tired. He rarely brought home his work with him, but it must’ve been something about his last case that had ravaged him.
He let out a rather obvious sigh of frustration, clearly exhausted. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
You bit back the harsh words you wanted to use. “I wanted you to remember! To apologize for forgetting. I want you to pretend like you give a single shit about me! You couldn’t even remember my birthday?” That was a low blow, and you knew it yet somehow you couldn’t care.
Things were bound to spiral when you saw the anger in his gaze. “I apologized! If you didn’t make such a big deal about something so small this wouldn’t even be a problem. I’m starting to see why I forgot.”
It felt like the wind was knocked out of you right then and there. Each word feeling like another dagger to your already broken heart. Physically, you recoiled as if he had hit you, your eyes were wide with disbelief. “I can’t believe you just said that.” You stood from the couch knowing you were going to run away from him. Your voice wavered just above a whisper as you spoke.
Regret washed over his face as he heard your floundering voice. He had taken it too far. Gone a step further than he needed. He crossed that invisible line that held the relationship together. “Baby… I didn’t mean it like that.” His eyes were wide as he reached for you. But you wouldn’t let him touch you, no. Not after those comments. “I’m just tired and frustrated and I just wanted to hold you tonight. I hate that we are fighting over something so stupid. But baby, I don’t know how to fix this. Tell me what I need to do.”
You shook your head rapidly frustrated beyond belief with him. “Something so stupid?” Your voice gave way to the weakness you felt in the moment, “My birthday is stupid now?”
Your words hung heavy in the air between the two of you. Aaron felt that lump form in his throat knowing he had used the wrong words yet again. It felt like he was being crushed over the weight of his mistakes now.
Before he can find the words to respond, you turn on your heel, your shoulders slumped with defeat. "I'm not so sure if there's anything left to fix," you say softly before walking away, leaving him standing alone in the wreckage of your shattered relationship in the living room of your home.
As he watches you disappear down the hallway, Aaron knows that he has lost more than just an argument. He has lost a piece of your heart, and he isn't sure if he will ever be able to win it back. But he is determined to try, no matter what it takes. Because you were worth fighting for, worth every moment of pain and heartache it would take to earn your forgiveness. And as he stood there alone in the empty room, Aaron vowed to do whatever it takes to make things right again. Even if it means confronting the darkest parts of himself and facing the harsh truth of his own shortcomings.
The silence in the house is deafening as Aaron stands outside the closed bedroom door, his heart heavy with regret. He can feel the weight of his mistakes coming own on him, each passing second only serving to deepen the ache in his chest. With a trembling hand, he reaches out and knocks softly on the door, the sound reverberating through the empty hallway. "Please," he whispers, his voice barely above a hoarse murmur. "Let me in."
There is no response from the other side, no indication that you have even heard him. But Aaron refuses to give up hope. He knows he has hurt you, but he can't bear the thought of losing you, not now, not ever. And you laid there in your bed, hurting beyond measure trying to ignore the man you loved more than life itself.
"Please, just talk to me," he pleads, his voice cracking with every emotion. "I know I screwed up, but I'm begging you, give me a chance to make it right. Please baby."
Still, there is nothing but silence from the other side of the door, and Aaron feels his heart sink even further. He presses his forehead against the cool wood, his chest constricted with the weight of his longing. You wanted to forgive him, to let him in. But you couldn’t, not yet. No matter how desperate he sounded.
"I can't do this without you," he pleads, his voice barely a whisper. "You mean everything to me, and I'll do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness. Just... please, let me in." He tries once more to get you to crack. And it worked. You’d never heard him so desperate. His voice so raw with emotion.
For what felt like an eternity, there was no response, and Aaron feared that he had lost you for good. But just as he is about to give up hope, he hears the faint sound of movement from within the room, followed by the soft click of the door unlocking. As much as you wished you knew you couldn’t ice him out completely. You had both thrown unkind words at the other
His heart leaps with hope as the door cracks open, revealing your tear-streaked face, your eyes red and puffy from crying. Aaron's breath catches in his throat at the sight of you, his heart breaking at the pain he has caused. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "I never meant to hurt you. Please, let me make it right."
You hesitate for a moment, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. But then, with a resigned sigh, you step aside, silently inviting him into the room. Without a second thought, Aaron crosses the room, pulling you into his arms with a fierce, desperate longing. He holds you close, his heart overflowing with gratitude as he vows to never hurt you like he had just done.
As Aaron holds you tightly against him, he feels the weight of your sorrow pressing against his chest. He can sense the tremors wracking your body, the silent sobs that wring tears from your eyes, and it tears at his soul with a sharp, agonizing ache. "I'm not supposed to be the one who makes you cry," he whispers, his voice thick with remorse. "I'm the one who's supposed to dry your eyes, to chase away your tears, not cause them."
His words hang heavy in the air between you, a painful reminder of the mistakes he had made. He had never wanted to hurt you, never imagined that his actions could bring you to such sadness. And yet, here you are, crumbling in his arms, your heart laid bare for him to see. "I'm so sorry baby," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head as you bury your face against his chest, your tears soaking through the thin fabric of his shirt. "I'll do whatever it takes to make things right, I promise."
But his assurances feel hollow, meaningless in the face of your pain. He knows that mere words are not enough to mend the wounds he has inflicted, that it will take more than empty promises to earn your forgiveness. For he had let you down so many times before. As Aaron holds you close, he knows that his actions will speak louder than any words he could offer. He will need to show you, day by day, that he is truly sorry, that he is committed to making amends and rebuilding the trust he has shattered.
He begins by being there for you in every way that he could possibly be, anticipating your needs before you even have to ask. He cooked your favorite meals, not because he wants to impress you, but because he wants to show you that he does in fact care about you. He knows you more than you knew yourself. He listens to you, really listens, to every word you speak, hanging on to your every thought and feeling, eager to understand the depths of your sadness caused by him.
He showers you with small gestures of affection, leaving little notes around the house, reminding you of his love and devotion. He holds your hand when you walk as a reassurance that he will always be by your side, no matter what.
But most importantly, he gives you space when you need it, allowing you the time and freedom to heal at your own pace. He doesn't push you to forgive him, doesn't demand your trust before you are ready. Instead, he remains patient, steadfast in his determination to prove himself worthy of your love once more. And as the days turn into weeks, and the weeks into months, Aaron watches with bated breath as the walls you had erected around your heart begin to crumble. He sees the flicker of hope in your eyes, the tentative smile that graces your lips more and more often. He sees you returning to the light he had let burn out.
And when you finally reach out to him with a certain uncertainty, Aaron knows that he has been given a second chance. A chance to rebuild what they had lost, stronger and more resilient than ever before. And so he takes your hand in his vowing to never let you go, to cherish you, to protect you, to love you with every fiber of his being. As you walk hand in hand into the future, Aaron knows that you have weathered the storm together. The two of you emerged on the other side, whole once more.
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pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller
description: your boyfriend tommy miller is a cheating bastard. luckily, your brother-in-law joel is nice enough to help you get your mind off of it.
word count: 5.1k
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, this is porn, joel is a consent king though!, talk of horrible sex life, cheating, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), dirty talk, multiple orgasms, pet names
author's note: hey lovers (; I have been teasing this one awhile. i may continue this if you guys like it a lot. this was a request from an anon, i hope they like it!! i'm almost at 400 followers and I was gonna release this when I hit that, but I am too excited to share this. leave me your thoughts! my requests are still open! <3
You and Tommy went way back. You had crushed on him since high school, his charisma was hypnotic and you were hooked the moment he asked for your phone number. You became borderline obsessed. He was the ideal boyfriend. A huge mama’s boy, respectful, and hilarious.
You hadn’t ever questioned Tommy’s intentions with you. You two even talked marriage.
It wasn’t until his 26th birthday that you noted a shift in his behavior and when everything officially fell apart. You had just spent all afternoon at his brother, Joel’s, house. You and Joel arranged a surprise birthday barbeque and you were so excited to spend his special day with him and his whole family.
The whole day, you lied and said you were going for a girls day out with your sister, who was newly single. Instead, you and Joel slaved over the stove making Tommy’s favorites. You also decorated the shit out of Joel’s whole house, with the help of his tween daughter, Sarah.
Joel told him to come over to help with fixing up his truck, but in actuality you all jumped out of your hiding spots and yelled “happy birthday!”
He hardly reacted. He was dazed seeing your beautiful smile peak up behind Joel’s recliner.
His attitude was distant the whole night. He wouldn’t kiss you, and pulled away every time you went in to wrap your arms around his waist. He drank way more than you expected, tallying up about 10 beers.
Joel noticed it, too.
Joel even asked if he should start taking it easy and cool it on the beer. That only pissed Tommy off, which lead you to break up an argument in front of their own mother. Joel was annoyed, noting how shitty Tommy was being towards you. He was ready to fight his own brother on his birthday.
After the festivities and helping Joel with the dishes, you bid the whole family farewell. Tommy was too drunk to drive home, so you knew you would take him home in your Toyota Corolla, telling Joel you’d be back tomorrow to get his truck.
“Drive safe you two,” Joel said in the driveway after assisting Tommy to the car. Even after Tommy yelled and fussed at him, he still gladly accepted Joel’s help. He knew he couldn’t walk any more than 50 feet. You smiled watching them, happy they could make amends so quickly, and started up your engine.
The whole ride home, Tommy kept checking his flip phone. The screen would light up into his glazed over eyes and he’d huff in frustration.
“Everything okay, baby?” You finally decide to ask.
You glance over in his direction and you could tell he was annoyed by the question. You bite the inside of your cheek, anticipating him to blow up at you next.
Tommy was not a nice drunk. He would blow up at the drop of a hat. There’d been countless times where he’d pick a fight with you after you picked him up from a bar or a friend’s house. You learned not to talk on any rides home when he was drinking. But you couldn’t help yourself.
“You want my honest answer?”
Of course, you did. But when he says it like that?
“What is it, Tommy?”
He clears his throat, “I’m fuckin’ your sister.”
You felt your world crashing around you in that instant. You slam on your breaks on a main road, unable to actively drive due to the shocking news. You pull off into an abandoned parking lot, your hands shaking as you throw the car in park.
“What?”
You didn’t even want to look over at him, your eyes welling with tears.
“Yeah,” Is all he says, his voice changing, “I’m sick of lyin’. It’s only been a couple times. But she wants to meet back up.”
His drunk honesty was like vomit coming out of his mouth. Constant and sickening. He was so heartless with his words. This wasn’t your Tommy. What made everything so much worse was that it was your fucking little sister. You two didn’t have the best relationship, but you still cared deeply for her. This was the ultimate betrayal. You couldn’t believe that she, of all people, would try to destroy your picture perfect life.
Not so picture perfect anymore.
The soft hum of the radio takes up the air. You felt like you could suffocate with all of the tension.
“How long?”
He chuckles lowly, “Longer than I’d probably like to admit. Why do you think her ex dumped her?”
You finally turn to him. He looked remorseless, not even batting an eye at your distraught expression.
“Get the fuck out of my car, Tommy,” You say sternly, “I don’t want to see your face ever again.”
“Oh come on baby,” He groans, “At least take me home.”
“Get,” The tears begin to fall, “Out. Now.”
He throws his hands up in surrender, “Fine, don’t want to watch you cry, anyway. Makes me feel like shit.”
He opens the car door and you watch as he stumbles out. He practically falls on the concrete, his footing wobbly from the alcohol. If you were as callous as him, you’d back your car right over him, but instead you sped off as soon as the door slammed shut.
Your hands are still vibrating, unsure of what to do next, you pick up your phone and dial Joel.
He answers after three rings.
“‘Sup, sweetheart?”
His Southern drawl is hushed, like he was trying to be quiet for someone. It was late, maybe he was putting Sarah to bed.
“Your brother.”
It’s all you could say before breaking out into a deep sob. He becomes panicked, immediately springing into older brother mode, begging you to tell him where you were.
You finally catch your breath, “He’s a cheating bastard. He fucked my sister and I left him in the old Hecht’s parking lot.”
Joel lets out a long sigh, “Where are you?”
“I’m driving,” You mutter, choking back more sobs you feel coming up, “I can’t go home.”
You knew going home would be painful. All the photos lining your walls of you and Tommy. The pictures with your own sister. All of his belongings scattered all over the house. You knew you’d spiral, untangling the mess and missed signs.
“Come back to my house,” He suggests, “I’ll go get Tommy and take him home. The back door will be unlocked, just come right in and settle down. Make some tea or somethin’.”
You nod even though he can’t see you.
Joel was the older brother you never had. He was mature and honest. You had come to him a couple times to analyze Tommy and his behavior. It didn’t happen often, but he was great at advice. You trusted him. He was family to you.
“Thanks Joel,” You wipe your tears, “See you in a bit.”
-
Luckily Sarah was fast asleep upstairs, snuggled up soundly, while you tried to contain your sobs. You couldn’t believe how drastically this evening turned.
Tommy cheated on you with your sister.
The man you were hoping to marry and settle down with? The one who was adored by your parents? The one you told all your darkest secrets to?
You had no clue how he would ever come back from this. And he did it with your sister?
You still could not grasp that it was her. The girl who always came to you for boy advice? Hell, she came to you last week asking about a guy she had be-
It was fucking Tommy.
She wanted advice on how to woo your fucking boyfriend.
You wanted to strangle her too, but who knows what lies he may have been leading. You wanted the whole story, but you didn’t want to open a can of worms so late in the evening. You weren’t going to be sleeping, plagued by your own thoughts and emotions.
You’re curled up on Joel’s couch, using his huge knitted blanket as a cape. You turned on the TV only to give your cries some background noise.
Just when you stop the tears, Joel walks in with this look on his face. Disappointment. Rage.
“How ya holdin’ up, sweet girl?”
Joel had tons of pet names for you, but that was a new one. He has always called you anything but your actual name.
“Not good,” You say, choking back more tears. You were practically all cried out, your cheeks were stained bright red. Joel shuffles over to you, dropping his keys down on the coffee table. He plops down on the couch next to me.
“He’s a fuckin’ idiot,” He mutters, patting your unclothed thigh. Maybe it was the words he said that sent goosebumps up your body, not the fact he took a long second to remove his hand from your leg.
“I just can’t… Why would he do this?”
He huffs, shrugging his broad shoulders, “I asked him and he said it’s cuz you ain’t puttin’ out like you used to. Said that your sister came onto him and he couldn’t say no.”
It felt like another stab to the heart. You and Tommy had sex like three times a week. Every time he came inside you and praised you. You on the other hand, never came and had grown sick of having to finish yourself off every time it happened. So yeah, maybe you weren’t the eager youngin’ you were before, but you still fucked him whenever he wanted.
“That’s horseshit! I fuck him all the time. He is just… he’s a fucking cheating bastard. I just can’t believe it was her. Like what man fucks around with his girl’s own sister? He knows better.”
You’re trying to rationalize his behavior in your head. But Joel is not as kind.
“He obviously doesn’t, sweet girl. He…” He drifts off, catching himself for saying how he truly felt about his brother. Once he looks into your puffy red eyes, his tune changes, “He’s a stupid motherfucker for letting a girl like you go. Don’t know much about your sister, but she has some explainin’ to do, too.”
Your heart flutters a bit. Joel’s accent was so much more pronounced when he was angry, it was kind of hot. Why are you thinking that right now?
“I just can’t believe he would do something so… heartless. He didn’t even act sorry, Joel.”
“The alcohol made him bold, that’s for sure. Doesn’t ‘cuse the behavior, but ya know,” He sits back into his couch, “‘m sorry, sweetheart.”
You turn to face him, “Makes me think of the time he accused me of cheating.”
“He accused you of cheatin’? When?”
It was years ago, right after your 21st birthday. Joel and Tommy took you and a couple of your friends out to a club in downtown Austin. You took so many shots, you ended up dancing a bit too close with Joel. It led to a fight you had never brought up to Joel himself, but nonetheless, Tommy thought you had a thing for his older brother.
Sure, Joel was nice. He was a bit more serious than Tommy, always trying to be the rational one. He was an excellent and present father, dedicating his entire life to raising Sarah. He had similar features to Tommy. Tall, dark hair, beautiful brown eyes. When you talked to him, those eyes of his were so laser focused on what you said, sometimes you found yourself stumbling over your words.
Maybe it was a little crush.
“It was years ago,” You confess, looking down at your bitten back cuticles, “He thought I had a thing for you.”
His eyes zero in on your lips, like he’s trying to take the words out of your mouth, one by one.
“A thing? What type of thing?”
You shake your head, pushing your face into your hands. This wasn’t something you wanted to talk about, especially not now. But it was distracting you from thinking about what you could’ve done. Instead, you’re reminding yourself of all the shitty things Tommy has done over the years. That “perfect boyfriend” you had in the beginning was falling apart a long time ago. You just hadn’t seen the signs right in front of you. Now here they are, splattered all over the floor.
“He thought you and I had a bit too much fun on my 21st, I don't know! He always acted so weird when I talked about you. You’re like my brother, I would never cross that line.”
The silence in the room was deafening. You finally raise your head, looking at Joel’s contemplative face.
“Never?”
You stare at him, looking for a smile to crack across his face. Like it was a joke or something.
But it wasn’t.
The air in the room shifted.
“Joel,” You mumble, before his fingers reach up and trace your bottom lip gently, “We can’t.”
“Why ‘cause I’m like your brother, or ‘cause you’re still banking on kissin’ and makin’ up with Tommy?”
It was a fair question. Making up with Tommy was never even a question, though. After being burned so harshly, you didn’t see any redemption. He was done for. Once that confession slipped past his lips, he was as good as gone.
This would be the greatest revenge. Fucking his brother?
What could you lose?
Joel could be your rebound. Something to ease the harsh sting you still felt in your heart. You start to feel guilty pile in the pit of your tummy. But then you hear Tommy’s words ringing in your head.
“I’m fuckin’ your sister.”
Yeah, you could use some revenge.
“You can’t tell him,” You murmur, making sure it’s in a whisper. Even if you wanted this to be revenge, you didn’t want Tommy to know, “Ever.”
“It’ll be between you and me, baby girl.”
You nod, finally accepting his offer. He grabs your legs and pulls you into his lap. You never thought you’d see the day where you would be mounted on top of Joel Miller. His eyes feasted on you in a way that sent tingles straight down to your core.
“I can’t lie, baby girl,” He purrs, his hands tracing you from your thighs all the way up to your shoulders, “I have thought this scenario out countless times.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” His hand finds its way to your neck, “Seein’ you at family barbeques, watchin’ you at bars with Tommy. Always wanted to pull you into a bathroom and get a feel of these,” He runs his hands down your chest, catching the edge of your yellow tank top. Tommy’s favorite color on you. He pulls it down, revealing your white bra underneath. It was your favorite push up, a Christmas present from Tommy.
He was littering your body, but instead of Tommy’s hands removing every trace of himself away from your body, it was his brother.
Joel doesn’t take note of your dazed expression, he’s too focused on your cleavage spilling over your bra. His fingers trace back to the clasp, his fingers expertly unhooking it. It sent chills down your back, while your boobs fall further out of the bra. He helps you shimmy it off your front, his eyes lighting up when your boobs rest right in his eyeline.
“Fuckin’ Christ,” He groans, his thumb and pointer finger tugging on your left nipple. You hiss, letting yourself get out of your own head for a moment. Your boobs were extremely sensitive, which is why every man you’d ever been with used that to their advantage. Instead of treating your pussy to a good time, they just toyed with your nipples while drilling into you, which usually had you cumming after a couple minutes. Deep down, you wished Tommy had actually gave your pussy the time of day. Eat you out, finger you until you saw stars. But he never had “time for that”.
His words.
Joel wraps his lips around your nipple, letting his tongue circle around your areola. He uses his open hand to massage your other tit. Once he releases your nipple, he leaves love bites at the swell of your boobs. He groans at your reaction, which was grinding your hips achingly slow across his lap.
“Mmm,” You hum, your hands finding his brown locks, “More.”
“‘m not gonna fuck you here,” He scowls, “Gonna take you to my bed.”
Without warning, he stands up, gripping onto your thighs to take you with him. You yelp in shock, throwing your arms around his neck.
“I got you,” He states, walking down the hall to his bedroom. You had been in there before, only to grab his wallet one day when you guys were in a rush to get to Sarah’s soccer game.
It was only slightly messy and smelled like him. Clean laundry and strawberry shampoo.
You were thrown atop his unmaid sheets, bouncing a bit at the impact. You decide to use the time of Joel crawling onto to the bed, to completely discard your tank top. Joel’s body takes over yours, his one hand propping him up, the other feeling your sides and scooping up your breast.
“Think I’m gonna take my time with you,” He grunts, his hand finding your short’s belt loops, “Make you forget everythin’ and focus on me.”
You nod, agreeing to his terms.
He sits back on his knees, tugging down your shorts and thong. He hisses as soon as he notes the wetness on your lacey panties. Once he tosses the items beside the bed, he nudges your knees apart.
“Damn, baby girl,” He just looks at you completely spread for him, shaking his head in disbelief, “Tommy’s a fuckin’ idiot. Could look at this pussy every minute of every day.”
You moan before you can retaliate, your mind responding to his fingers tracing your slit up and down. You watch him crawl up you, his lips so close to yours. You two hadn’t even kissed yet, instantly going to tearing each other’s clothes off. It felt more intimate, more real.
He finally leans in, pursing his lips to meet yours.
Joel was gentler than expected. Tommy was always hurried, his kisses only to warm you up a bit. You never really kissed during sex either, because he always had you doggy, which wasn’t ideal for kisses.
Joel’s kisses took your breath away. He was slow and methodical, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You finally decide to pull him down onto your naked body, his hips settling between yours. The action made him a bit more eager, as he grinded his crotch into your wet center.
“Gonna have me cumming in my jeans, sweet thing,” He laughs, pulling away from your swollen lips. He crawls back down the bed, his shoulders resting between your thighs this time.
“What are you doing?” You ask, hesitantly.
He smiles again, “‘m gonna eat this beautiful pussy of yours. Unless you don’t want me to.”
You had no real objections, it just something you had never fully enjoyed with anyone else before. You were willing to see what Joel Miller could bring to the table. You nod your head in agreement, letting him rest his hand on your lower tummy, holding you in place for his mouth. He ducks down, pressing small kisses over your clit. His actions already had you writhing under his touch.
He continues on, gripping your stomach a bit harder as he explores your pussy with his tongue. He switches between sucking and licking, eventually settling with running his tongue in circles inside of you. You were a groaning mess, your hand eventually finding your mouth so you could control the volume. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself with how loud you could be. He stops as soon as you do it.
“You ain’t gotta do that,” He says, his mouth wet with your slick, “I wanna hear those pretty little moans of yours. Don’t worry about anyone hearin’ ya.”
You take your hand off your mouth and he continues on with his assault on your folds. It’s sending you into overdrive, watching him go down on you. He was so hot, splayed out between your thighs, devouring you whole.
His exploration ends with him wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking you up like a straw. You couldn’t believe how good the vibration felt.
You were feeling that heat in your stomach, so as soon as Joel slipped his hand up and began adding fingers inside you, you knew you were done for. He starts with two, fucking you slowly and systematically. He curls his fingers up like a hook, his lips still wrapped around your bud.
This was it. This is what you were missing.
Your unrestrained pleas don’t fall on deaf ears. Your orgasm hits you like a semi-truck. You reach for anything in your vicinity, which happened to be Joel’s hair and his white sheets. He didn’t let up on you as you came around his fingers, fucking you through it.
“Holy f-fuck,” You stutter, “Joel what the fuck?”
“We are just gettin’ started, sweetheart,” He states, standing up beside the bed to take his clothes off. His cock was standing at attention in his boxers before he tore them off.
Tommy was above average, but Joel was well endowed.
You gape at the view, unable to really form a coherent sentences.
“You’re droolin’,” He jokes, finding his way back on top of you. You giggle, letting the joke roll of your shoulder, instead of letting it embarrass you. He finds your lips again, kissing you roughly this time. You could tell he was aching for you, his hips finding their way between yours again.
“Oh,” You say, feeling his tip nudge your folds, “I’m on birth control, by the way.”
“I assumed so,” He states plainly, kissing your neck and chest, “Won’t cum in you unless you want me to.”
You grin, “You’re all about consent, ain’t ya?”
He laughs, “You’re in control here, baby girl. ‘M just here to get your mind off all the shit.”
You have never been so enamored by a man in your life. He was saying all the right things, but you knew in your heart he wasn’t just saying anything. Joel was a genuine guy. He never lied to you or belittled you.
The longer you’re under him the more you start to realize that this is what you’ve wanted all along.
He brings you back to reality with an feverish kiss, drawing you back to the moment. His hands trail down your side, tickling you a bit.
“Hey,” You murmur, pulling away from his delicious mouth, “I want to… I uh-“
You don’t know how to say it. To be honest, you and Tommy were in a routine with sex so you didn’t know how to ask to suck someone off. You usually just did it first to get it done and over with. But you felt like you needed to do it for Joel, not out of obligation, but because you wanted to see him squirm under your touch. You have thought about it more than once.
“Words, sweetheart.”
“Let me suck your dick.”
He smiles, letting out a slight chuckle at your demand. He never thought he’d hear that coming from your mouth. He waits a second, acting like he’s seriously contemplating the offer.
Of course he was going to accept.
You sit up, giving him more space to lay down next to you. You crawl over his legs, settling between his calves. His cock was red, the veins so prominent. It was just waiting for you. He tucks his one arm behind his head, propping it up to watch you put on a show.
“Let me know if I’m doing okay,” You ask sheepishly. You wanted to punch yourself for saying something so stupid. You were never confident in your abilities and you didn’t want to disappoint Joel.
He nods, watching you grab onto his shaft with your hands, “You’ll do great, baby girl.”
You spit into your hands once you realize you need more lubrication. You crouch more, jerking him off slowly. He is already so reactive, throwing his head back against his headboard.
You begin to tease him, peppering kisses onto his shaft and tip as it leaked. You smile when you hear him hiss at you toying with him. You finally wrap your lips around his dick, sucking in your cheeks as you pull your head back. He was so big you couldn’t physically get your mouth completely down his length. He was girthy, too, which didn’t help either when it came to almost unhinging your jaw to take all of him.
“Such a good girl,” He praises, taking your hair into his grip, “You ain’t gotta take it all.”
The reassurance was comforting. You didn’t feel any pressure with Joel, which only made him more desirable in your eyes.
You watch his face twist in delight every time you take him into your mouth, wrapping his cock in your saliva.
“Keep doin’ that and ‘m gonna cum in that mouth,” His drawl is so buttery and deep, your center literally clenches.
You pull off of him, gaining some confidence in your bedroom talk.
“Need that done somewhere else.”
He shakes his head, sitting up more to manhandle you up to his lap. As you slide across his body, you feel his wet cock touch your inner thighs.
Your mouth falls open as soon as his hands grab your hips and settle you right over his length. You are on your knees on either side of his thighs, looking down at him and his absolutely spent expression. His curls were standing in all different directions and his eyes were dark with anticipation.
“Want me to do the honors?”
He grabs his cock, positioning it right below your opening. Your lips twitch upward, shaking your head positively.
He lines you up, pushing his hips upward. He is stretching you immediately, the angle making you crumble under his touch already. Your legs practically give out when he’s partially sheathed in you, which causes you just to sit and take the rest of him in you.
“Oh my fucking god,” You moan out, shutting your eyes to soak in every twitch, “I have never been this fucking full.”
Your eyes fly open, realizing what you just insinuated.
“Don’t worry, baby girl. I knew he wasn’t givin’ you exactly what you needed,” He starts to guide your hips to circle his, “I give you what you need.”
You never expected him to be so confident, but it was so hot. You rested your hands on his pecks and started easing yourself up and down onto his length. His lips flick upward, watching you get yourself off on his dick. He loved watching you like this, just enjoying yourself.
After a minute, he realizes he can’t let you be the only one doing the work. You were so in your own world, riding him and feeling every inch of him. Your blissed out mind gets over taken when he grabs you and rolls on onto your back. He is on his knees as he grabs your legs with both of his hands, spreading you out. He grinds into you, his cock hitting you at a different angle now.
You moan out, reaching out to grab his shoulders. He takes the hint and dips down to capture your lips again, caging your body between his. He picks up the pace when you start to press your tongue forward into his mouth. You can’t help but whimper at how good he feels.
“You fuck me so good,” You mewl. He was panting, his hot breath fanning your wildly tangled hair. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, focusing on making you feel good. Every pump inside you brought you closer to that familiar warm feeling. He notices your heat clenching around him, which makes him want to change up his technique. He pushes off the pillows, grabbing your hips and slamming into you at a rate you didn’t know Joel was capable of.
“God, I can’t believe how fuckin’ good you feel, baby,” He pants, his thumb finding your swollen bud. As soon as he puts pressure there, you’re screaming out. “Mhm, that feel good? This cock better than his?”
“Yes, Joel, oh my god!”
He doesn’t let up. He wants to see you fall apart so bad, knowing those beautiful whimpers will send him into ecstasy.
“Cum for me, baby girl. Know you’re aching to,” He clenches his teeth, “Let go.”
You have never had your vision go white when you orgasm. It’s like you’re about to see the gates to Heaven. He holds your body, making sure to feel every nerve in your body fire off into euphoria. You don’t even know what you’re saying, you just know it’s an iteration of his name and a bunch of cuss words as you reach your peak.
You were absolutely obsessed. You knew it as soon as the come down brought back your vision and you saw Joel. He was throwing his head back while painting your insides with his cum. He looks so delicious, his entire toned upper body glistening with sweat.
He had to be the only man in the world, in that moment.
Once he pulls out, you truly realize how sensitive your core is. You shiver, feeling his cum trickling down your backside. You wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. You just fucked your boyfriend’s brother. And it was the best sex you’d ever had in your life.
You thought you’d feel that all too familiar regret, but instead you just look over at Joel as he flops down next to you. He’s staring at you, a slight smirk playing on his lips. You were trying to find the right words to say to him. He just did the Lord’s work.
Do you say thank you?
“You okay,” He asks while he runs his hand up your arm, causing goosebumps to litter your skin.
You grin, “I’m okay.”
“Do you want to stay here tonight?”
He was worried you’d go home and see Tommy passed out on the couch where he left him and regret everything. He knew you would probably stay here anyway, but he anticipated you taking the guest room next to Sarah’s.
But you weren’t going to take the guest room. No, you wanted to spend the rest of the night in his arms. Maybe even go for round two.
“As long as I get to stay right here,” You purr, taking his hand from your arm. You bring it up to your lips and kiss his fingers, “Right beside you.”
END
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#the last of us#joel miller the last of us#joel miller one shot#pedro pascal#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x reader smut#brother in law joel miller#tommy miller#gracieheartspedro
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my love, my life
pairing: jenna ortega x autistic!fem!reader
summary: Jenna was the rock you never knew you needed in your life
link to request
words: 4.007k (im sorry)
warnings: verbally abusive parents, ableism, ableist remarks, r parents are dicks, r has a meltdown, swearing, bad writing
authors note: if i got anything wrong please correct me in a respectful and kind way please, other than that i hope you enjoy this:)
You were the one who begged your parents to allow you to start acting at such a young age, being utterly fixated on the world of acting after seeing Spider-Man for the first time.
In the beginning your parents didn't like the idea of you becoming a child actor, especially after what they heard from a myriad of news sources of how troubled child actors became when they reached their teens.
But after a lot of pleading they reluctantly allowed you to audition for anything that came up.
You were the young age of six when you got your first real role, it was for a random soup company commercial, it was nothing major but it was something.
Acting brought you a large sense of comfort, already knowing what was going to happen as you memorised your lines in a blink of an eye.
You always had a struggle with portraying emotions but eventually you got the hang of it and became much better.
At eight years old you got your first big break; the role of a little sister's killer. The role of Jill Roberts' little sister in Scream Four.
You blew up.
At first you weren't a fan of all the attention and even got quite upset over it, the large change of attention by strangers on the street scaring you.
Your parents on the other hand were absolutely thrilled and began auditioning you for many other movies and tv shows.
You weren't properly diagnosed with autism till the age of fourteen; long after you had become a child actor. You were shocked but found comfort in that information, it was as if you finally found out the answer to longing question.
Your parents on the other hand did not believe the doctors when they diagnosed you with autism, refusing to believe the fact and that you were just simply dramatic.
As your fame grew, your stress and anxiety only did too. It got to the point where you could barely get through an interview before going completely non-verbal for a few days.
Your parents called you dramatic since you could act in front of cameras but couldn't answer simple questions in front of a few people with flashing cameras.
You defended yourself that it wasn't the same, it never was. You didn't know what was going to happen in those interviews, while you knew everything when acting.
As the years passed you became even quieter and couldn't attend almost any interview or premier. You stopped auditioning for movies and shows when you were sixteen, deciding to take a two year break of acting.
Your parents were enraged by that fact and barely interacted with you, leaving you alone in one small house as they bought another large one for themselves with your money.
You didn't care, as long as you were alone you were happy.
A few days after your eighteenth birthday you received a call, asking if you were willing to come back to play an old role.
Maxine "Max" Roberts, the younger sister of Jill Roberts.
In the beginning you were reluctant but after a few days of thinking you accepted the role.
Without a doubt, that was the best decision of your entire life, career wise aside.
In the set of Scream Five you reconnected with old friends such as Neve Campbell, Courtney Cox and even David Arquette officially as grown adult and no longer a child.
You also managed to make long life friends such as Mikey Madison, Mason Gooding, Dylan Minnette, Jack Quaid and you even meet your favourite youtuber James A. Janisse who made a small cameo in the movie.
But the person you met on the Scream Five set that changed your life was the actress who played Tara Carpenter; the first Scream character to survive an opening kill.
Jenna Ortega.
You and Jenna instantly connected, a feeling you had never felt in your entire lifetime. Jenna understood you better than your own parents, even treating you better than them.
Before Scream Five was even wrapped you and Jenna began dating; both of you absolutely head over heels for each other.
Jenna helped you tremendously throughout the process after Scream Five was released, helping you in interviews if you got nervous and felt your throat tightening up. Helping you in any premier by always holding your hand if you wanted to squeeze hers if you got too angsty.
She did so much more than your parents ever did. It wasn't a wonder why you hadn't had a proper conversation with them since you were sixteen.
You were fine with that fact; you didn't need them anymore. You had Jenna.
—————
"So, I was thinking of some mac 'n cheese for dinner?" Jenna suggested once the credits of 'The Amazing Spider-Man' began playing throughout yours and Jenna's small living room.
You grinned happily at her as you tapped your finger along with the music that played with the credits. "Well if you're offering of course."
Jenna scrunched her nose adorably as she smiled at you, leaning closer to give you a quick peck on the forehead as she stood up. "I'm presuming you watch the end credit scene?" She asked you as she leaned against the doorway of the kitchen.
You nodded your head as your eyes remained fixated on the screen. "You presume correctly, my love."
"As always, my life." Jenna replied, finishing off your nickname with a small laugh as she entered the kitchen.
It was a silly joke that started when Jenna found out your all time favourite band was Abba. She had made it her life goal to memorise each of your favourite songs; one of those songs being 'My love, My life'.
You smiled to yourself as you unconsciously played with the bottom of the graphic Spiderman shirt Jenna gave you for your birthday months ago. The material of the shirt was your favourite and didn't irritate you like many other fabrics did.
After a few minutes passed the end credit scene began playing as the smell of mac 'n cheese started to infiltrate your nose, your smile softened.
Mumbling the lines along with the characters you were interrupted when three knocks were at the door.
You ignored the fact it was an awkward number as you headed towards the door, confused as to who it could be.
Maybe it was one of Jenna's siblings you guessed, but as you unlocked the door your jaw dropped as you saw who was standing behind the door with crooked smiles.
"Mother? Father?" You asked bewildered as you stared at them with wide eyes, you hadn't seen them in years.
Your mother smiled sweetly, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she took a step closer to you with open arms, to which you took a step back at.
"Y/n, honey, it's been so long." Your mother cooed as she lowered her arms, a small look of hurt in her eyes at your rejection at touch.
"Four years. It's been four years." You confirm with a deadpan look as you looked at them, they still looked pretty much the same since you last saw them. "Why're you two here?" You asked them rather bluntly, your eyes narrowing questioningly on your father who didn't have the sweet smile your mother had on her face.
"Is it so wrong for parents to come visit their only daughter? We've missed you so much after all these years." She said as she wrapped an arm around your fathers bicep, leaning into him. Your fathers jaw clenched momentarily as he nodded his head stiffly. "We've missed you so much, rabbit." Your father mumbled out in a gruff tone of voice.
A smile grazed your lips at the nickname your father used to call you when growing up, there was no backstory to it, it was a simple name he had called you for years.
At the nostalgic name you couldn't help to lower your guard as you gave them a genuine smile, to which your parents actually smiled back at you.
"Y/n?" Jenna's voice broke you off your trance as you snapped your head to the side, Jenna rounding the corner with her hair now in a messy bun.
Before you could get a word out you heard your mother gasp as she freed your father from her grip, a look of admiration in her eyes as she looked at your girlfriend.
"And you're our Y/n's girlfriend, we've heard so much about you. It's nice to finally meet you." She interrupted, extending her hand out to shake Jenna's.
Jenna glanced at you with a questioning look, you shrugged your shoulders weakly at her look. She sighed as her movie star smile appeared on her face, turning back to face your mother.
"Likewise." She says as she connects her hand with your mothers.
As your mother chatted Jenna's ears off you turned your attention back to your father who was still standing awkwardly in the doorway.
Your father must've felt eyes on him as he slowly flickered his eyes away from your mothers figure to your eyes, his eyes still as cold as you remembered.
He coughed dryly as he took a singular step towards you, a tight lipped smile on her face as he looked down at you.
"It's nice to see you again, peanut." He whispered to you, your heart melted at his words. Has your father actually changed? It sure sounded like it.
"It's nice to see you too, father." You replied back with a whisper, a small smile toyed on your lips. He grinned as he nodded curtly at you before he focused back on your mother.
"Is it alright if we stayed for dinner? It's just we haven't seen our Y/n in such a long time." You heard your mother plead to Jenna, her voice bordering into desperation.
Jenna's beautiful brown eyes flickered over to you, silently asking you if you were okay with you, you nodded your head.
She let out a small breath as she nodded her own head, returning to meet your mothers eyes.
"Of course, I hope you don't mind mac 'n cheese." Jenna joked as she took a few steps back, your mother following hot on her trail.
You and your father follow them as you close the front door. Your father turned to look at you as he walked over to the dining table. "You're still obsessed with that?" He asked with what sounded like curiosity to you, meanwhile Jenna's head had snapped back to where you and your father stood at his tone of words which did not sound like it was full of curiosity.
You nodded your head oblivious as you pulled out a chair for him. "Yes I do, it's been my comfort meal for years. I'm surprised you even remembered that."
He scoffed as he glanced back at you, sitting down in the seat. "I wish I didn't." He grumbled under his breath, thankfully you didn't hear his words as you headed over to the kitchen where your mother and Jenna were at.
Jenna was slowly stirring the pot full of mac 'n cheese as your mother chatted her ear off, a look of fake interest on Jenna's face.
"Do you need help with anything, Jen?" You asked her, interrupting your mother as you moved to stand next to her. She smiled softly at you as she nodded her head. "Could you get the cutlery and bowls out for me please?" You nodded your head as you immediately went to do what she asked for.
Thankfully, your mother left the kitchen as she went to sit down next to your father, whispering to him as their eyes glanced over the apartment.
You grabbed four bowls off of the top shelf with ease as you heard Jenna's hushed voice.
"Hey," She began, you turned to look at her as you neatly placed the bowls on the counter. "you sure you're okay with them being here?" She finished off in a whisper as she gazed into your eyes.
You nodded your head as you glanced back at your parents whispering to each other, smiling before you turned to look back at your girlfriend.
"I'm okay with them being here, really unexpected which annoys me but I haven't seen them in so long." Your tone became even more hushed as you leaned closer to Jenna. "Dad even remembered my nickname and the food I like, that must mean something, right?"
Jenna sighed as she nodded her head weakly, smiling as weakly as she placed a comforting hand on top of yours. "Okay, if you want them here then they can stay. But the moment you feel like you don't want them here just tell me okay?"
You nod your head understanding. "Okay, I will, thank you." Jenna gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before she turned back to her pot of mac 'n cheese.
After a few minutes passed you, Jenna and your parents were seated at your dining table as you all ate your food.
You were sitting in your favourite seat as Jenna sat next to you, your father across from you as your mother sat across from Jenna.
You were eagerly eating your food with a smile on your face, a sense of warmth and comfort hitting you as you ate your food.
"This is really good, Jen, thank you." Jenna's smile managed to make you feel even more at peace.
"So, Y/n, you got any new movies or shows coming up?" Your mother asked you with intrigue as she slowly ate her food.
You shook your head as you took another spoonful. "No but I was in the latest Spider-Man movie. It was so cool! I thought I would never be given a chance to be in a Spider-Man movie but I was offered a small role. I even got to design my own Spider-Man character and how she was and -oh my god I even-"
"Lower your voice, Y/n." Your father snapped as he played with his food. "We're not in another room, we're right next to you."
You frowned as you stopped talking immediately, looking down at your half empty bowl embarrassed. "Sorry, father." You said in a voice that you made sure it was quieter than before.
"And what, baby?" Jenna asked with an encouraging smile on her face, her eyes focused on you and only you.
You picked up your head as you smiled sheepishly at her. "And I got to meet Daniel Kaluuya who's one of my favourite actors."
Your father sighed dramatically as he shook his head as he pushed his food around the bowl, he hadn't taken a singular bite of the food.
"How much longer do we have to stay here?" He whispered to your mother in a tone what he thought was low enough, but you and Jenna heard him clearly.
Your eyebrows furrowed together as you loosened your grip on your spoon. "Oh, do you have somewhere else to be?" You asked him sincerely.
He scoffed as he shook his head in disbelief. "Your attitude is still as horrible as I see."
What?
"I don't understand. I was asking you a question. How was that giving you attitude?" You asked him again, straightening your posture as you desperately searched for Jenna's hand from under the table.
She quickly interlocked your fingers together, her thumb expertly rubbing softly at your skin in an attempt to soothe you.
Your father dismissed you as he turned to look at his wife, a look of annoyance clear on his face. "Ask her. I'm not staying here much longer with that here." He demanded in a hushed whisper.
A deep frown slowly appeared on your face as you stared between your parents, an uneasy feeling started to grow in your stomach.
"What's he talking about, mother?" She sighed at your words, dropping her spoon into the bowl as she leaned against her hands.
"We need to ask a favour from you, honey." Your throat felt tighter as you swallowed dryly, your grip on Jenna's hand tightened.
"What favour?" You asked her, your eyes flickered back to your father who wasn't even looking at you. Your heart clenched uncomfortably in your chest at the sight.
"Well your father and I have been going through some things lately, and it hasn't been fun. It's been especially hard on your dad." The older woman sighed as she closed her eyes momentarily before she reopened them, her eyes teary as she looked into your eyes. "As your parents, we only ask you one favour, Y/n. We raised you and no parent wants to come grovelling to their own flesh and blood for help."
You stayed silent as you listened to her words, your anxiety was starting to increase at a speed that you hadn't felt in years.
"We need to borrow some money." She finally confessed with a pleading gleam in her eyes. "It's the only thing we've ever asked of you, my sweet child. Please, for your mom and dad."
You should've known they hadn't changed, you should've known.
As you stared into your parents eyes you swallowed dryly as you slowly opened your mouth.
"No." You whispered out.
"No?" He repeated in a mocking tone. "No? Are you serious? After all we've done for you?"
Your frown deepened as you averted his piercing gaze, looking down in your lap as you unconsciously started to rub your feet against each other.
"We could've given your spastic ass up for adoption but we didn't. And this is how you repay us? What a wonderful fucking daughter we have."
You shook your head weakly as your movement with your feet started to become more erratic.
"Get out of our house, right now." Jenna said coldly, trying to keep her temper under control as she didn't want to yell like your father was doing.
A sniffle was heard from your mother as she wiped the tears from her eyes with a tissue. "My own daughter is betraying her only parents." She mumbled to herself.
It was if your heart was in your throat, the feeling as if it was tightening making you shake your head more violently.
"You see what you're doing, you freak, making your own mother cry." Your father pushed as he stood up, banging his fist against the table loudly.
You flinched at the noise as you shut your eyes tightly, letting go of Jenna's hand as you wrapped your arms around yourself.
Jenna stood up as you let go of her hand, glaring heavily at your father. "I'm going to ask you again, leave our home and never return or I'll call the cops." She spat out slowly, her voice full of venom.
"You know what, Miss America, we'll do exactly that. Who would even want that as a child?" He laughed as if it was a joke as he held his wife's sobbing hand. "You're not my child, Y/n. Nobody would even want a reta-"
"Don't you fucking dare finish that sentence." Jenna interrupted the man's words, fury in her eyes as she rounded the table. "You should be ashamed of yourselves, you two are a joke. Get out of our house right now."
Your father scoffed as he helped pull up his wife from her chair, tightening his hand in hers.
You weren't looking at them as you kept shaking your head, your eyes shut tightly as you mumbled incoherent words to yourself. The tightening in your throat becoming unbearable.
You heard your father and Jenna argue lowly but you couldn't hear anything they said as your fathers previous words plagued your thoughts loudly.
A wave of unshed tears were piling up behind your shut eyes as you slid off the wooden chair to sit down against the wall, shaking uncontrollably as you shook your head violently.
Maybe he was right, maybe you were just an unloveable creature.
Behind closed eyes you could notice the room darken, with a shaky gasp you opened your eyes, a flood of tears escaping immediately.
Through the thick tears you could see Jenna crouched down a few feet in front of you, the room itself was darkened as the main light was switched off. The only light remaining in the room was the corner lamp.
"Y/n, can I hold you?" Jenna's disoriented voice asked you, you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.
Your fathers cruel words voiced themselves in your mind at your body's rejection of speaking. A sob racked through your body as you desperately nodded your head. Instantaneously the moment you nodded your head Jenna moved to wrap her arms around you, allowing you to lean all your weight into her.
Silent sobs erupted from your body as you clung to Jenna for dear life, hiding your face in the crook of her neck as your arms were wrapped around her tightly.
"It's okay, it's just you and me, nobody else." She cooed into your ear as she gently rocked you back and forth. You could feel one of her hands rubbing affectionately against your back as she shushed you.
You don't know how long you stayed like that for; In Jenna's protective hold as she rocked you back and forth as you sobbed.
Eventually as your breathing calmed down and your sobs dying down, Jenna slowed down her rocking but she kept rubbing at your back with her soft palm.
"You feel a bit better?" She whispered into the dark room, not wanting to startle you with a loud voice.
You nodded your head mutely as you sniffled, your face still hidden in the crook of her neck.
"You know what they said wasn't true, right?" Jenna softly asked as her hand soothed you. You didn't move as you struggled to swallow, knowing if you nodded your head you would be lying.
Weakly, you shrugged your shoulders at her words, your fathers words still plagued your mind.
"What they said was absolute nonsense, Y/n, you're none of the things they called you." She reassured you, her voice so soft that if someone was in the kitchen they wouldn't have heard her. "I promise you I'll never let anyone say anything like that to you again, because what they said was lies."
You nodded your head as Jenna rocked you carefully, your breathing calming down.
"I love you, Y/n, never forget that. I love everything about you, everything." Jenna whispered again as she pressed a feather light kiss to the top of your head. "I wouldn't want you any other way, you're perfect just the way you are, and I love you so much."
Once again you attempted to speak but nothing except a strangled gasp of air came out, you shut your eyes back immediately as embarrassment coursed through your veins.
"Hey, hey, take your time, you don't have to force yourself to talk, okay? Going non-verbal is perfectly okay." Jenna cooed instantly as she rubbed at your back with a stronger force, you relished in the feeling as you nodded your head.
"Do you want me to reheat your dinner so we can watch the second Amazing Spider-Man movie while we eat it?" Jenna offered you in a gentle voice, she had slowed down on the rocking as you calmed down.
Mutely, you nodded your head with more eagerness than before. Jenna smiled in relief as she nodded her own head.
"Okay, I'll go reheat it and you can put the movie on for us. How does that sound?" She said, you pulled away from her as you smiled weakly, nodding your head. Jenna's own smile grew as she nodded her head along with you.
You were still weren’t sure whether your fathers words were true or not, but one thing you were positive of was that Jenna was the best girlfriend.
Jenna will always be your rock as she will always be the love of your life.
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x austisc!reader#tara carpenter x reader#wednesday addams x reader#vada cavell x reader#fluff#angst#my writing#my fan fic
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Could you write for ella toone that's angst like she looses a match or something and takes it out on r and then tries everything to make it up to r
Groveling Time
Ella Toone x reader request
-> Ella does not cope well after losing a game and takes her anger out on you, her girlfriend
-> First request! Let me know what you think!
➳ Masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
Gamedays were always special, especially for Ella. Being able to represent her childhood club with you by her side was so dear and near to her heart – she loved every single moment of it.
With the new season and not only Alessia missing from the Manchester United crew, but many of her friends having changed clubs, it was tough for the brunette and it was hard on her mind.
You were her rock. She loved knowing that she could lean on you if she ever needed to – a realization that had not come easy to her.
But this week was different, and you both knew it. It was yet another Sunday and Manchester United would meet Manchester City in a derby. This alone was another level of stress, there would be a huge upturn to the game with fans being very dedicated to their respective teams.
But the worst thing for Ella? You could not be there.
It was your grandma’s eightieth birthday and with her being very sick, your family never knew how much longer they had with her. You had asked Ella if she wanted to join you because then you would try to convince the rest of the family to push it to Monday – but your girlfriend insisted that she would be fine and that she wanted you to have a nice day with your family.
During dinner you tried to check your phone as often as you could, trying to stay updated on how your girlfriend’s team was doing. Seeing the 2-0 to Manchester City before the halftime break was hard, knowing how much Ella would blame herself, looking for mistakes in herself. Being the ‘worlds-best girlfriend’ as Ella crowned you, was not easy – but you decided to shoot her a quick text during the break.
‘Hello Gorgeous! Keep ya head up – cannot wait to see you tonight. I love you so much.’
It was sappy, but you knew that the young lioness loved it even if she would deny it till the day she died.
You arrived home before Ella did – so you made dinner.
Ella’s comfort food, knowing that she would not take the 3-0 loss easy. Some leftover cake was chilling in the fridge, waiting for dessert.
But it was getting later and later by the second – without Ella showing up at your shared home. You had texted Katie Zelem oven an hour ago, asking if she was with her and if they had plans for the night. The Manchester United captain however could not help you with your search for your girlfriend – telling you that Ella had left in her car as soon as she could.
By now you were incredibly hungry, having waited for the brunette for three hours seated on the couch, preparing lessons for the following day. At some point, you had turned the stove off and put everything in Tupperware placing it next to the cake in the fridge.
After waiting for a while longer, you started writing a little note to your girlfriend that you placed where she stored her bag so that she would definitely see it. ‘I was tired. ‘Dinner is in the fridge – cake too. Love you!’
You had already gotten ready for bed and nearly fallen asleep when you heard the front door fall shut. With slow steps, you trotted down the steps “Ella?” But you did not get an answer.
With your note in hand, your girlfriend stood in the kitchen. You tripped over her shoes that she had just flung onto the floor, the entryway being a complete mess. Bag in one direction, shoes in another – her jacket just in the middle of the ground. “Baby?”
She had her back turned to you, hands balled to fists by her side, your note crumbled in of them. There still was no reaction. You had gotten closer now, resting your hand on her back, trying to comfort her – but she shrugged you off. “Couldn’t have waited for me huh? First, you don’t show up for my game and then you don't even wait for me!”
Sure, she usually had a loud voice, but now she was just yelling into your face. Ella had turned around with so much force, that she had pushed you back a little. “I’m sorry baby but I was at my grand-“
“I don’t care! You should put me first! We lost because of you and your selfishness!” Tears were quickly making their way to your eyes, mirroring the brunette's bloodshot ones.
She clearly was not herself right now, so you tried to avert her attention. “Do you want me to heat up dinner?” A sharp scoff left you flinching back once she ripped the fridge open.
“No need – you didn’t even wait for me. Already ate huh? What a nice day. Leaving your girlfriend hanging, visiting your stupid family, and eating alone. How fun.” Her words hurt, she spat at you with such anger that it terrified you.
You had never thought that you would fear Ella. But the usually bubbly and funny girl was not herself right now. “And what are you wearing? Always stealing my shit! Don’t you have clothes for yourself?”
Tears were running down your cheeks as you looked at your mirror image in the dark window. You were wearing one of Ellas' big shirts – she usually loved seeing you in her clothes, even making you change out of your own so that you could wear hers.
“I think I will just go to bed baby. Maybe you will have calmed down tomorrow.” Your feet were already on the stairs as you heard her muttering “Sure. Just leave me like you always do.”
It hurt, so much. You opted for the guest bedroom, leaving the brunette in the comfort of your joined room. Once upon a time, you had thought that maybe, just maybe this room could be used for your future child.
If there even was a joined future.
But you were determined to work at what was wrong – not wanting to throw everything away just like that. But Ella did not even enter the bedroom, she left again, the door falling into place behind her as you heard the car start outside.
Just as a precaution, you texted Katie as well As Mary and Millie – explaining to them that Ella was in a bad mood and to please tell you if she showed up at their place so that you knew that she was safe.
It was Mary who was the last to answer, telling you that your girlfriend was at her home.
Now that you had time to settle, the anger set in. So instead of sleeping like intended, you sorted your clothes – taking every single piece of clothing that you had from Ella, folding it neatly, and setting it down on her side of the bed.
As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t just hide her training gear – placing everything neatly in place. As angry as you were that Ella took her own anger out on you, you could never deliberately do something that could hurt her career.
The dinner in the fridge that neither of you had eaten was turned into your lunch at school – your students excitedly asking about it.
Ella meanwhile had gotten her brainwashed by Mary as she crashed on her couch – the goalkeeper refusing to give her teammate the guest bedroom.
The brunette knew that she had messed up.
Your joined home was empty when she came back in the morning. Her chaos was gone, as was the food in the fridge – once entering the bedroom she saw all her clothes. The clothes she loved to see you in.
Her heart broke even further. How could she hurt you like that?
After allowing herself to cry for a couple of minutes, hugging your pillow close to her your note from the night before tightly pressed to her chest, she took a shower and started to prepare.
It was groveling time.
It was still much too early to start dinner for when you came home, so she started with her folded clothes. The brunette put them back into the closet – your side of it. She didn’t want you to stop wearing them.
After that she started the already full dishwasher and washing machine in the time those were running, she started to remove the stains on the couch that you had been complaining about forever now. After emptying the dishwasher and starting the dryer, Ella turned to your most neglected room – your office.
The desk was a mess and there were papers all over the room. She started with sorting the papers – art projects of your students into one folder, and vocabulary tests that you had yet to grade in another one.
After a while she had made a good dent into your chaos – so that she could actually see the table again. It took her two hours until she considered the room as done – putting the vacuum back in its rightful place.
The time on the clock nearly gave her a heart attack – it was time to start dinner and prepare her speech.
Entering your home felt like entering the lion’s den – and you hated it.
The smell of dinner was overwhelming. You did not know what you had been expecting but fresh flowers, cooked dinner, and a cleaned house were not what you had in mind.
It seemed like Ella knew that she had seriously messed up.
“Hello, Ella.”
The brunette at the stove turned around at the speed of light at your voice – not having heard you walk in. “Hi, baby.”
The smile on her face was hesitant but seeing you, without steam coming out of your ears seriously calmed her down. “I think I have something to make up to you.”
It did not take a trained eye to see just how nervous the footballer was – but being her girlfriend certainly helps. “I think you do – but before you start, I would like to hear that you’re sorry and what made you act that way.”
Big eyes looked at you – head nodding so fast that you doubted that Ella could actually see clearly. It was safe to say, that you were spoiled for the evening – Ella making sure that you could not stay mad at her with everything in her power.
#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso#engwnt x reader#woso imagines#ella toone x reader#ella toone#man united wfc x reader#lionesses x reader
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loved by the moon (riddle, leona, and azul x f!reader)
requested by @lydiacallas: Can i ask for a Moon Goddess like!Fem!Reader? Like they have magic linked to the moon, they have like- this ethereal, pure and calm vibe of the moon itself and their voice is calm too. Maybe their hair is a bit glow in the dark? With Malleus, Azul, Lilia, Riddle and Leona, please and thank you very much! 🥺✨
warning: minor spoilers to book 6 + somewhat long imagine
note: reader uses she / they pronouns + is in the same grade as the boys !! this is very overdue im sorry 😣 and i based some characteristic and abilities to moonlight cookie and princess luna guilty as charged 😔 + malleus and lilia part will be in another post!
recent fics: happy birthday (malleus x reader) & when your hopeless streamer gets a girlfriend (ace x reader) & its you, it always had been you
·˚ ༘ riddle rosehearts (2nd year ramshackle dorm leader)
"the decision of all professors and staffs of night raven college falls in favor for miss (name) (last name) to enroll here - exempting them from the all-boys rule. she will be in charge of the ramshackle dorm during her stay here."
riddle does not understand how on earth were you able to stay in the school and always hold yourself with such grace, he couldn't explain why your presence seems to be similar to vil like you were oozing of calm vibes
you were the total opposites - he is more accustomed to fire while you specialize in water magic*. he lose his rationality quickly while he had never see you even falter during the time you two were classmates + he always abides by the rules while you do what ever you want
"you are not allowed to sleep in class!"
"it's not sleeping, i am just resting my eyes..."
"you must not pick flowers from the garden on wednesdays."
"riddle, i am not under the queen of hearts rules."
and riddle actually holds a one sided grudge against you for that + makes it his mission always to remind you of the rules, going on about mini rants to which you nodded to while reading your books
typically, riddle would've mention something about the rule of the queen of hearts but he was strangely quiet. you see him looking down at his notebook, lost in his world. and that surprised you because never you would've thought you would know this side of him.
"no rule trivia for today?"
"...huh?"
"there is something on your mind, no? why don't we talk about that instead our usual trivias."
as time passed by, you and riddle gradually close friends to the point that heartslabyul treats you like their saving grace whenever riddle goes on a rampage, even more when you became second years
when the first overblot happened, it was the first time he saw your face, usually so calm, crumbled like dust when the blot manifested into a large phantom
"hahaha! the law in this world is me! not even you, (name), can stop me!"
"i'm not letting you go so easily, riddle. rules are meant to protect your people, but you don't realize you are using them to suffocate them. you even hurt my dorm mates, enough of this!"
riddle was sure you wouldn't speak to him again because you weren't there the moment he woke up. he tried asking trey and cater if you were avoiding him, but they could not answer him. the next few days, he didn't even get to talk to you.
then he found himself admiring nrc at night time, breaking his own rules, maybe it's okay to let is slide for now. as he needs some time to think
absentmindedly wandering around the school grounds, letting the cool breeze feel his skin, riddle had his hand brushing through the thick bushes until they got pricked by a stray thorn
"ah-" he hissed, holding up his pricked finger. it was just a tiny injury that's nothing to worry about. the injury was nothing compared to what he saw next
"riddle? what are you doing this here at this hour?"
riddle spotted you sitting under the tree where silver usually takes his naps, surrounded by bunnies as they piled around your lap.
after days of not seeing each other, riddle thought he was going crazy because the last time he saw you, he knew pretty sure that your eyes and hair do not have that silver glow - it was like you were the moon itself
"is it my fault that your eyes and hair changed?"
"oh, this is awkward... " you look at the bunnies trying to hide behind you, being scared of riddle's sudden appearance, contemplating about something before sighing in defeat. "i think i owe you an explanation. but first, can you keep a secret?"
this confused riddle very much. what do you mean explanation? did something happen while he was out? before he could even think of it, you were already in front of him - your point and middle finger placed on his forehead.
'the moon has come out to play, now bid your worries away.' a comfortable feeling of cold wrapped around riddle's body, feeling the fatigue from his overblotting disappear, the weight on his shoulder being gone and his pricked finger healed. while riddle stared at you in shock, you finally reveal your true appearance and float around him like a curious child.
"would you believe me if i told you i am the descendant of the moon goddess?"
... oh. OH !!
prepare for him because this little goldfish right here is most likely a fan of reading books about your kind + cue the sparkling eyes
and oh my god are those butterflies he can feel in his stomach? or maybe he is just hungry but he only feel that way around you though. oh well !!
** okay so i think reader will be compatible with water magic because the moon has this gravitaional pull right which cause the high tides and low tides... and riddle is fire!
·˚ ༘ leona kingscholar (3rd year transfer student)
"kingscholar, think of this as your punishment for the spelldrive incident. i would gladly take miss (name) for a tour but alas, there are countless of papers that needs my attention."
leona knew that there is something like a cloak of mysteriousness around you the moment you appeared in the college mid-year as a transfer student from rsa
just you don't interfere with his plans and he will also stay out of yours but it turns out he was assigned by the crow to take you around
"... wow, do i look like a punishment worthy chore?" you sigh, shaking your head in disappointment before turning to leona and he could swear he could see your eyes glowing for a moment when you stare at him.
"i take it that the dorm leader of savannaclaw will be my tour guide?"
"just don't lag behind." giving you a shrug before he started walking ahead of you. despite his short descriptions and tour around the school, leona is thankful that you didn't seem to be a nosy type of person, just a little on the calm and reserve type than most people he knew.
doesn't understand how people seems to look starstruck whenever you walk by them i mean you are attractive yes but not being able to move? that's different
it also turns out you share most of your classes! maybe crowley was really punishing him for the incident as he was stuck with you, being your babysitter.
but you almost look like his babysitter + quickly became one of the most tolerable people in the school and he doesn't mind having you around
"leona? let me bother you for a moment, can you help me with this problem?"
"oh that?" the lion lifted his head and stared at the paper you were holding before waving his hand in dismissal. "remember the activity we did as partners? that's the one."
"..." you squinted your eyes and leona could see them literally glow in purple light causing him to blink several times if he was seeing it right but it disappeared quickly. "oh i get it now, thanks."
"do your eyes really glow like that?"
"huh? i don't know what you are talking about."
you were not the nagging type - letting him hide and snooze off behind you during class and surprisingly, you were fun to spar with during practical exams + too smart for your own good
he had never seen any kind of fighting similar to yours like your fighting style is only yours to begin with - not only you excel in defending, you never seem to get tired despite being a speedy defender.
you and the savanaclaw dorm leader spent the whole afternoon sparring with each other and by the time you notice it, the sun was already setting. "aren't you tired yet, leona?"
"you better tell me how you manage to keep up with me all this time."
you did say to keep up with you the first time we met." you twirl your spear around you before stabbing it on the ground, leaning on it and grinned at leona. "i'm just keeping my promise."
now leona was pretty sure you are not a normal transfer student + especially after fighting with you in the island of woe and it was pretty interesting how you unexpectedly exposed yourself in front him and jamil.
the moment you, who was assigned to be in the front of the group due to you having the most capable defensive powers, entered the room on the current sector, leona and jamil look at your back in surprise.
"(name)-senpai?"
"what's up, jamil?"
"... is that a normal thing for you?" the room was oozing with the presence of phantoms everywhere and there was no source of light - aside from your hair locks that are now shining like a billowing night sky of twinkling stardust, borne in a void of black and fading in an indigo moonset
"oh that's normal, we can just use it as source of light. save your magic for now."
"no wonder your magic feels different from everyone else - you are a moon goddess, right?"
leona is not blind, he just need a solid evidence to confirm his gut feeling. unique magic spells + signature spear + glowing eyes and your hair locks literally looking like that?
while fighting along side each other, leona could literally leave his back open because heknew and trust that you always have his back and vice versa
"leona-senpai, watch out-" before jamil could jump in between the incoming attack and leona, you pulled the second year by his hood deflected the attack with your spear so effortlessly.
"it's fine, moon fairy here got our backs." you hear leona said proudly before landing a critical hit on the phantom.
"aren't you glad you're stuck with us?"
everyone in school knows how two of you would make an unbeatable duo when it comes to strategies and games
and not going to lie, leona thinks so too! you are strong, smart and everything above + treats you life his closest friend and respects you a lot but you do things sometimes that are not really necessary
"are you done yet?" he couldn't help but ask, his tail thumping on the floor with annoyance while you tried braiding some parts of his hair.
you peek over his should and smiled, trying to show him the small braid that you did on the side. "yeah, it's fun braiding your hair!" after your identity being revealed, you let yourself relax more around him - when you express happiness, your hair starts glowing as it did before and small crescent like moon thingy start appearing around you
... leona find that cute + now he understand why people become starstruck when it comes to you
**you know how moonlight cookie's hair color looks like? yeah that's the one!
·˚ ༘ azul ashengrotto (2nd year ramshackle vice dorm leader)
"did you hear about the rumors? recently, students are saying that when you go to the botanical garden at night and stand under the moonlight - all your questions will be answered!"
the fact that rumors like that exists made azul irritated because it means he got competition. and having competition in the thing he do best is not fun.
so he and the twins went to investigate - how and where the rumors first started and who are most likely to be involved in the case
surprisingly enough, it all leads to a certain ramshackle vice dorm leader aka you + azul already knew you due to being the same year and his 'rival'
he considers you as his rival because you two always seem to fight for the top 2 and 3 spot every exam but for you... i think he would be hurt if you say that you like to aim for the top spot because it's fun 🤩
it was during lunch time and you were planning to eat with yuu, grim and the others when all of a sudden, someone blocked your way out by leaning on the door. "(last name) can i ask a bit of your time? i would like to ask you regarding an important matter." the ever so charismatic azul asked, his usual charming smile on as if he wants to do business with you.
"oh, hi azul. what is it about?"
"how delightful! do you happen to know the rumor about your unanswered questions will be answered as you stand under the moonlight?"
"there is a rumor like that? under the moonlight? why the specifics?" one thing that azul observed about you is that your emotion reflects on your eyes. call it his gut feel but just one look and he already knew you were telling the truth
"a pity... it seems like i am back to square one."
"... maybe i can go help you out? i am not that busy these upcoming days."
and so azul's little group grew in numbers consisting of him, you, yuu, grim and the twins. oddly enough, it was actually fun to hang out with you
azul never got to interact with you that much before and only knew information about your through papers and from what he heard from people but being with you right now exceeds his expectations
"if headmaster crowley is similar to crow... do you think he likes to hoard shiny things?" you suddenly whispered it to azul one day in class, your mind clearly wandering and not paying attention to what professor trein is writing on the board.
"what is with the random thought?"
what is we leave a trail of shiny things and create a trap, that would be really funny."
you were an oddball. sometimes you will joke around with him and trying to make him laugh during class. there are also times where he couldn't explain the calming feeling he had whenever you are around + he could never even feel any other intentions from your actions as if you genuinely want to become his friend
it took him a while to notice how you always seem to stand out and become the embodiment of grace and elegance - a confident yet modest person who knows what you want
you always help him out in solving the rumor mystery but there is something that made you look suspicious → you always go back to your dorm before sunset
it's not that he wants to take up all your time but the way you stand firm of not being able to join them during night time and saying how dangerous it is made him suspect you of something
so he went alone wearing his ceremonial robes (the twins are taking over his duties for a while i know very unbelievable but imagine) to investigate the botanical garden and there he saw you run inside - a trail of silver light following you behind
and when azul went inside to stand in the spot, trying to think of what to wish until he hears a familiar voice ringing in the building
"say your wish out loud and the moon will light its way to you."
"well, now this is marvelous. can i see one guiding my wish for me?" azul looked up, trying to call out for you, even looking around to see signs of you. there was a moment of silence before he heard you sigh and in an instance, you appeared before him, avoiding his look.
"i thought i told you to let it go?"
after finding out you were his competitor - he didn't really feel annoyed at all! rather he was intrigued on how you were able to do it ...? you help the students find the answers on their own in their dreams?!
seeing your hair glow in silver light in the dark reminds him of himself as some octopus also glow in the dark just like him!
"azul, do you know that i really admire you?"
"me? what is there to admire about me? i do nknow i have a remarkable potential but compared to y-"
"no, seriously. you don't need to compare yourself to me. having to do all these business related work AND studying at the same time? you should appreciate yourself more."
... do you want to make him cry on the spot? hearing such words makes him happy but hearing it from you aka one of the people he really admire and yes he admits he admire you as a rival - his emotions are going haywire.
even if he is smart, it will take time for azul to realize that his admiration is just growing stronger and stronger each day and bloom into something else
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland headcanons#twisted wonderland scenarios#twst scenarios#twst imagines#riddle rosehearts#riddle roseheart x reader#leona kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#faeryarchives#a.twst#a.heartslabyul#a.savanaclaw#a.octavinelle#twst x reader
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aussies do it better | op81, dr3
heeeeey (louder than anyone else) im serving today the koala bear and the honeybadger duo and im hoping y'all will like it!
at the beggining i was hoping for making this a smut but it turned out so wholesome, even though im thinking about still making it smutty, maybe in second part?? idk lmk if you like this one and if you would like to have more of them in a maybe spicy way
anyway pls enjoy and have wonderful day x
summary: sometimes we forget that the best things are often at our fingertips, danny ric being the best wingman possible, pastry boy being pure babygirl
warnings: cheating on a reader (but not them they could never)
pairing: bff!fem!reader x oscar piastri x daniel ricciardo
"Guys, quick break," Oscar announced, stepping aside and setting down his paddle.
"In the next set, we play together, we'll show them how it's done properly. In a Aussie style," Daniel said, grabbing some water and taking a few sips, to which Oscar chuckled, wiping his hair with a towel. It was a pleasant, warm evening. Oscar, Daniel, and a few friends decided to take advantage of the last free day before the frenzy of the home Grand Prix and relax in the company of friends. But Oscar's thoughts were far from relaxed. When he picked up his phone and saw a few missed calls from Y/N, his friend, his smile instantly faded, not escaping Daniel's notice.
"Something wrong?" he asked, glancing at him attentively. Piastri, still focused on his phone, just shook his head.
"I have no idea, but I hope not," he replied, quickly typing a message to his friend.
"Sorry for not answering. Is everything okay? Should I call back?"
He didn't have to wait long for a reply, as it came seconds later.
"No, nothing happened. I just wanted to talk for a moment."
Seeing him nervously tapping on the keyboard, Daniel approached him and glanced over his shoulder.
"Translating to our language, something definitely happened. She just decided not to bother you," he said, scanning through their recent messages from a while ago. "Girlfriend?"
"No, a friend. A close friend."
"Then you should call her back even more so," he remarked, looking meaningfully into Oscar's eyes as he raised his head to meet his gaze. Oscar returned his gaze to the phone in his hand and after a moment's hesitation nodded.
"I'll be right back; start without me if you need to," he informed, then quickly clicked the camera. As he left the court and stepped outside, the girl picked up. She was hastily wiping her cheeks, but it was futile, as Oscar easily noticed her distressed state. It was evident she had been crying.
"Hey, what happened? Why are you crying?" he asked, concerned, gazing attentively at his friend. After his question, she just shook her head and buried her face in her hands. A sob escaped from his phone.
"Y/N, please tell me why you're in such a state," he calmly requested, though his heart was pounding like crazy. He had no idea what had caused his friend to be in such a state, and the fact that he was on the other side of the globe and couldn't just come over to check on her only amplified his worry.
"Mattias," she managed to squeeze out just one word, but it was enough for Oscar to know what had brought her to tears.
"What happened? Where are you?"
It was clear that the girl was outside. It was dark, and she was walking briskly, her face illuminated only by the glow of her phone held in her hand. Her hair were messy and her mascara was smudged on her cheeks.
"I'm waiting for an Uber. I'm coming back from Natalie's birthday party, the one I told you I didn't want to go to."
"You ended up going?"
"Yes, and it was a mistake," she replied, sniffing. "Mattias was there too. I didn't even know he got an invitation. Turns out he did, and on top of that, he was having such a great time he forgot he had a girlfriend."
Oscar didn't even realize when he started nervously pacing, waiting for his friend to continue.
"I went there," Y/N continued, her voice trembling "after all, it would be stupid if I ignored my friend on her birthday. Then suddenly someone comes up to me and asks if I'm Mattias' girlfriend, and I answer yes. And he says I guess not, since on the balcony he's been kissing someone else. And he was actually making out with some girl! When he saw me, he looked as if he had seen a ghost. It didn't occur to him that I might be at my friend's fucking birthday party!"
"Did he react in any way?"
"Of course," the girl snorted, "baby, it's not what you think, we were just talking, I didn't have my hand in her panties at all! Fuck, of course not!"
"Hey, calm down," Oscar said, knowing his friend's emotions well. "How long until your Uber arrives?"
Y/N calmed down for a moment and glanced at her phone, swiping through her notifications.
"3 minutes."
"Alright, the most important thing is for you to get out of there and be home soon. Don't hang up until you're inside, okay?"
"Why me, Oscar? What's wrong with me?" she asked, looking back at her phone. Despite the thousands of kilometers between them, as Oscar looked at the screen of his phone and saw his friend's sad eyes, he felt as if she were standing right in front of him. The downside was that he couldn't hug her and provide the physical support she needed right now.
"It's not your fault, Y/N. It's not your fault at all."
Despite his words of support, Oscar knew that his reassurances were just empty words. He talked to his friend until she got home and let him know she was safe. He offered to continue talking until he noticed her condition had slightly improved, but it was clear she was exhausted.
"I think it's best if I go to bed," she said softly. He heard the sound of keys turning in the lock and the rustle of things being put away. "Although I doubt I'll be able to sleep."
"You should rest," Piastri agreed, nodding. "Text me as soon as you wake up, okay?"
"Sure, but then you'll be sleeping, it's 9 hours' difference," she replied, returning her gaze to the screen of her phone. "Besides, you have more important things to deal with tomorrow."
"Nothing is more important than you," he said, but she just scoffed and shook her head. "Nothing, you hear me? I'll keep the sound on while I sleep, call if anything happens in the meantime. Okay?"
Y/N sighed and nodded.
"Thank you, Osc. It's good to have you here."
Piastri smiled warmly at her.
"Of course I am."
When the call ended, Oscar sighed deeply and rubbed his face with his hand. When he returned to the court, the match was already underway. So, he sat on the bench and clenched his phone in his hand, trying to gather his thoughts somehow. His heart ached at the thought of his friend and what she had gone through. He had known Y/N since their school days when they shared a desk. A friendship had easily developed between them, and they had become practically inseparable. Despite Oscar's busy lifestyle and constant travels, they had managed to maintain constant contact, meeting as often as possible. In such situations, however, their friendship, separated by kilometers, could not cope.
"It's everything alright?" Daniel interrupted Oscar's thoughts, approaching him after the set ended.
"Long story," Piastri sighed.
"I'll gladly listen, considering I'm out and Blake is subbing for me in this set," he replied, sitting next to him and wiping his face with a towel.
For some reason, Oscar began to tell him about what he had just learned over the phone. He and Daniel weren't exceptionally close, sure, they were buddies on the paddock, sometimes playing padel together, but Oscar had never thought of confiding in him about anything. But perhaps this situation overwhelmed him a bit, and he needed advice on how he could help his friend.
"How long have you known her?" Ricciardo asked, when a moment of silence fell between them.
"Over six years, we met back in school."
"For your age, that's almost a quarter of your life," he joked, but after a moment, he looked at him with a slightly more serious expression. "Do you like her?"
"She's my friend, of course, I do."
Ricciardo snorted and shook his head. "Yeah, I figured, but I mean, do you like her?"
Oscar blinked several times, and it wasn't until Ricciardo emphasized the penultimate word he said that Oscar understood what he meant.
"We're friends, I never, uh—," he stumbled a bit, not knowing how to respond.
"So I guess that means yes," Daniel grinned widely, seeing his reaction. "You should invite her here. It would be good for her to occupy her mind with something else now. And she'll appreciate being able to talk to you face to face, not just over the phone."
"I don't know if she'd want to fly all this way just to see me," he replied, causing Daniel to look at him indulgently. "She's never made me feel like I'm anything more than a friend to her."
"Maybe this is the moment to show her that she's had the right guy in front of her all this time," he said, getting up as the set ended. "Cause Aussies always do it better, right?"
Oscar pondered Daniel's suggestion for a long time, but when he went to bed, he decided to offer his friend a visit to Melbourne. Before he went to sleep, he sent her a message with an invitation, honestly not knowing what reaction to expect from her. Of course, he assured her that he would cover all the costs of her transportation, but he still wasn't sure if she would agree to travel such a distance just to see him.
When he woke up in the morning and picked up his phone, he had to rub his eyes in amazement several times. She agreed immediately. She even asked if she could fly to him on the fastest plane, to which he naturally agreed. As a result, she was already at the airport the next evening. Unfortunately, Oscar couldn't pick her up personally, but someone was willing to offer their help on-site.
"Hi, you must be Y/N," Daniel's wide smile and his Australian accent were the first things to greet the girl on the new continent. "I'm Daniel, and it's a pleasure to meet you."
She nodded, returning his smile and shaking his outstretched hand.
"It's very nice to meet you too, and I'm sorry Oscar roped you into this," she replied as he silently took her suitcase. "I could have taken a taxi."
"Absolutely no need to apologize, I'm just glad I could personally welcome you to our beautiful country," he said with a smile. It was past midnight, and Y/N wondered where her newfound companion got so much energy from. "First time in Australia, am I right?"
"Yes, I've never been here before. Actually, it's only the second time in my life I've flown on a plane."
"Really?" Daniel looked at her in shock, and she just shyly nodded. "And Oscar managed to convince you to take such a trip?"
"Actually, I was very excited about the invitation," she admitted, but at one point, she bit her tongue. However, when she glanced at Daniel again, she got the impression that he wouldn't be too concerned about some stranger girl occupying him with trivialities. "A lot has been going on with me lately, and I'm glad to have a reset here."
"I'll gladly join as your local guide and mood lifter," he offered, opening the car door for her. "Of course, if you're up for it and if Oscar is willing to share his best friend."
The girl chuckled, genuinely for the first time in a few days. She eagerly nodded at his proposal.
"I'd love to. And I don't think Oscar will mind."
The journey passed in lightning speed with a conversation that looked like they had known each other for ages, not just a few dozen minutes. When Daniel parked in the driveway, Oscar was already standing in front of the house, waiting for his friends.
"Everything you've learned from me, you haven't actually learned from me," Daniel said, throwing a quick glance at Oscar, which brought a smile back to the girl's face and her hasty nod. Both got out of the car, and Daniel, without taking no for an answer, took her bags. The girl smiled even wider at the sight of her friend, who started walking towards her. She hugged him tightly without a word, and he closed her in a tight embrace.
Daniel smiled at the sight and just raised his thumb. Oscar returned the gesture.
The trio entered the house, and Daniel left the girl's things in the living room doorway before stretching.
"I'll be off," he announced, looking around at them. "It was very nice to meet you, and I hope we'll see each other again soon."
"You can stay if you want," Oscar offered. "We probably won't go to bed soon anyway, and I owe you a beer for today."
"I definitely won't be able to sleep anytime soon, despite the hour," the girl added, checking the time on her phone before shifting her gaze to Daniel and Oscar. "But I have the least to say because it's not me facing the home Grand Prix in a few days."
"Well, why not, gladly," Ricciardo replied, agreeing to the suggestion with a smile.
Shortly after, the three of them were sitting on the terrace. The evening was pleasant, so they decided not to disturb Oscar's family and spend time outside. The conversation was already flowing smoothly, and with each subsequent beer, any inhibitions and barriers disappeared more and more. At some point, it looked like a meeting of three close friends after years.
"He acted like a complete dick," Daniel summed up Y/N's story, taking a sip from the can he held. "Look at it from a different angle, you could have skipped this party and not confronted him. He would probably cheat on you behind your back if he wasn't already."
Oscar looked at him meaningfully, not wanting him to further distress her. However, she seemed to come to terms with the whole situation. She certainly looked better than she did a few days ago when she tearfully talked to Oscar on the phone.
"Possible," the girl sighed, holding her own can. Her head was a bit fuzzy, but she liked this state better than feeling sadness. "Oh God, how could I be so stupid."
"It happens to the best of us," Daniel smiled reassuringly at her.
"The worst thing is, you told me many times that he's not the right guy for me, that he's not a good person at all," she continued, now looking at Oscar, who was sitting next to her. Daniel, sitting in the chair opposite, looked at him meaningfully, but he had his gaze fixed on the girl. "And I still thought I knew better. I'll never question your instincts again, Osc. Never."
She said, then hugged him tightly. Oscar returned the hug, rubbing her back. "It doesn't matter now. It happened, and that's it."
"You said he's not the right guy for you," Daniel began, and Oscar looked at him at the moment when he released his friend from the hug. He shook his head slightly, knowing where he was going with this. But this train couldn't be stopped. "Is there any guy you think would be right for you?"
The girl thought for a moment, turning the can in her hands. However, alcohol placed a certain thought in her head, which made her smile. She just nodded in response, raising her gaze to the man sitting opposite her.
"Oh, you're flattering me," Daniel laughed, taking another sip of beer.
"For the past few minutes, I've been noticing that I kind of like Aussies," she added, glancing at Oscar. He was so shocked when she subtly announced that she liked Daniel in an unexpected way that he didn't even notice when her gaze lingered on his lips. However, Daniel noticed it perfectly.
"And you, Oscar?" Ricciardo asked, stretching his legs out in front of him, a moment after he took another sip of his beer. "Do you have anyone in mind?"
Piastri almost choked on his beer when he finished it. His cheeks were instantly flushed, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol he had just consumed. Y/N raised her gaze to her friend's face, curious herself about his answer to the question, as Oscar had never shared his romantic affairs with her, even when she repeatedly asked about them.
When he, embarrassed, couldn't utter a word, Y/N's gaze returned to Daniel, and she decided to answer for her friend. "Oscar probably hasn't met the right person yet," she said, taking a sip of beer. "He's never told me that he likes any girl, even when I asked hundreds of times. Recently, I even started asking if it's not a girl, then maybe a boy? After all, there's nothing wrong with a relationship with two boys or two girls. And Lando," she looked at her friend again, "he's quite charming. And it seems to me that you two have a good relationship."
"Landoscar? Oh definitely, I've been thinking about it many times myself," Daniel interjected, pointing his finger and agreeing with her words.
Oscar, seeing how they were encouraging each other, knew he had to act. And since words got stuck in his throat, and he didn't know how to defend himself, he silently touched his friend's cheek and turned her head towards him, kissing her. Despite her shock, she returned the kiss. Daniel smiled. He felt like giving himself a high-five.
After a moment, Oscar pulled away from his friend. His heart was pounding like crazy, and her questioning gaze wandering over his face didn't make it any easier for him to gather his thoughts.
"You, Y/N, I like you," he finally said. "I've liked you since you invited me over to work on a biology project in eleventh grade. We were just starting to be friends, and I already felt something more for you. Nothing has changed since then."
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" she asked, looking at him, but he lowered his gaze.
"I always felt like I was more of a brother to you than potential boyfriend material,"
"Oscar…," the girl sighed, looking at him indulgently. "Do you know how many broken hearts you would have saved me if you had told me earlier?"
Oscar looked up at her. And just as he felt like an idiot when he decided to make his bold move, now he was wondering if there was a chance she felt the same way about him.
"I thought I was just your friend. And that you didn't want someone who couldn't keep up with your pace of life. After all, why would you need a girlfriend you couldn't have by your side?"
"I would spend all my money to have my girlfriend by my side,"
After these words, silence fell. Oscar and Y/N looked at each other in silence, and Daniel, sitting next to them, pressed the cool edge of the can to his lips and watched the whole scene with bated breath.
"Do you want us to be together?" the girl asked after a moment. She decided to put everything on the line.
"Yes, Y/N, I want us to be together," he said, looking her in the eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier and spared you so many broken hearts. But I assumed that a long-distance relationship would break your heart even more."
Oscar lowered his head. He wasn't lying. The truth was that one of the reasons he didn't confess his feelings to the girl was that he already found it hard with a long-distance friendship, let alone having the possibility to see his girlfriend once a month or less. Oscar had countless layers of love within him. However, he was afraid that if he turned on the tap, he would cause a flood, injuring not only her but also himself.
"Come here," she whispered softly, pulling herself closer to him and hugging him tightly. He closed his eyes and embraced her just as tightly, burying his face in her hair.
"Surely you'll be happy with such a guy," Daniel spoke up after a while, smiling. "If not, you know where to find me. However, Aussies always do it better."
#f1 imagines#f1#f1 one shot#formula 1#f1 oneshots#f1 imagine#op81#dr3#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo x reader
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Hey! I saw your request being open!
Could I have Monster trio (separate pls) with a female s/o that Sees her lover stressed/despressed/ down what you like, so she makes them Some dessert to their taste? To Show them love and being there for them? So just pure fluff!
Thank you again and take enough Breaks and have a nice day/night
A/N: I was a big fan of this. I hope you liked it!
Characters: gn reader x Luffy, Zoro, Sanji
Cw: sad boi hours, but still really cute!
Total word count: 1k
Luffy
Luffy doesn't seem as crazy as he usually does. He’s not running around or screaming as much, he’s more wandering around the ship, staring out to sea in thought. It’s kind of alarming for everyone on the ship, honestly
Double chocolate cake. It’s his favorite thing to eat, and luckily it’s something you can make pretty easily
You whip up the cake, and leave the spoon and the bowl off to the side for him to lick up later (sorry Sanji- you know he hates when Luffy does that)
He doesn’t even come into the kitchen when he smells the cake baking, and you take it out early just to get it to him faster.
When he sees it, the biggest grin appears on his face. And then he sees the battered spoon and bowl, and his smile somehow gets bigger. He starts to get tears in his eyes from happiness
He swallows it almost entirely whole, and he licks the bowl and the spoon completely clean of any HINT of chocolate. You could put it back into the cupboards, that's how clean they look.
“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask, and he stares into the cleaned bowl he’s still licking at.
“It’s Ace’s birthday today, I think.” he finally answers after a few long moments. “We made up birthdays for each other since we didn’t know our own.”
“Well, Happy Birthday Ace.” you say softly. “Should we have a party?”
Luffy’s smile returns. It’s not as big as it was before, but it’s there, and you count it as a win. “I think he would like that a lot.”
Zoro
He’s grumpy. Zoro is usually grumpy, but today he’s extra grumpy.
Zoro doesn’t like to talk about his emotions, and you know that better than anyone. So instead you remind him of your love…from a distance.
Desserts are hard for Zoro. Chocolate and candy are far too sweet for him to enjoy. But, surprisingly, you know he does like mochi. So that’s what you make.
It takes a lot of time and effort, making the sticky sweet rice balls and the ice cream to match. But luckily all you have is time today. You know when Zoro gets in his funk he doesn’t want to see or talk to anyone.
You make a few of each; green tea, strawberry, red bean, and just regular vanilla, and climb up to the crow’s nest where he’s hidden away.
You open the hatch and you can see him look over to see who has disturbed him, his eyes full of irritation. They soften slightly when they see you, but not by much.
“I just brought dessert for you,” you whisper, placing the plate down and starting to shut the door.
“Wait!” he demanded, slight desperation in his voice. “Do you want to eat with me?”
You smile at that, and climb up into the crow's nest. The two of you sit silently and eat the dessert until it’s all gone.
“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked him.
“No,” he snapped instinctually. “Sorry,” he quickly corrected. “Thank you for the food. It was really good.”
“Sure thing” you smile, blowing him a kiss and winking at him, taking your leave. “Let me know if you need anything else.” You see him nod and you’re thankful that you get to leave him with a smile on his face.
Sanji
It’s hard to tell when Sanji is upset about things, but there’s one main thing: He hides in the kitchen. So when you realize he hasn’t come out to see you halfway through the day, you get suspicious.
You wander into the kitchen and he looks up from his manic whisking of some kind of batter. He didn’t even look up to see you come in, and you can see three trays of cupcakes already made behind him.
“Sanji?” you call, and he looks up like a deer caught in the headlights.
“My love! Are you hungry? Are you sad? Do you need something?” he’s scanning your face to see if you were angry at all, worried he forgot something.
“Sanji.” You walk over and take the bowl out from his hands, setting it on the counter. Your hands cup his face so his eyes only focus on you. “Breathe, Sanji.”
You breathe in and out with him a few times, trying to get him to calm down. Once his breathing calms down and his eyes seem a little less scared, you both feel better.
“Out,” you command, and he looks at you funny. “I’ll handle this mess in the kitchen. Go sit by Chopper’s inflatable pool with him.”
He needs something simple, something refreshing, so you decide to stick with the basics. A homemade vanilla bean ice cream with a lavender lemonade.
He comes in several times during the process, and you kick him to the curb every time, He can’t even get past the door before you’re screaming “OUT!”
Luffy cleans up the cupcakes and batter, and you do all the dishes while the ice cream is mixing.
When you take it out to him, he cries a little bit. “You know me so well,” he sobbed, mouth full of ice cream.
“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, looking over at him.
“Not really,” he says, and you nod. That’s fine with you too. Some things are just too hard to talk about, but you’re glad you could get him out of his baking spiral at least.
#one piece#one piece scenario#one piece imagine#one piece x reader#monkey d. luffy#luffy#luffy x reader#luffy x y/n#luffy x you#zoro#roronoa zoro#zoro x reader#zoro x y/n#zoro x you#sanji#vinsmoke sanji#sanji x y/n#sanji x reader#sanji x you#cozage#✧˚ luffy✧˚#✧˚zoro✧˚#✧˚sanji✧˚
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you go back to the old house, but you've been locked out
jacaerys velaryon/strong x fem!reader (modern!au)
summary: when your boyfriend finds out that you have never celebrated christmas before, he invites you to have your first with his family.
warnings: *do not read if you have any of the triggers* artist!reader, poc coded reader, depictions of mental illnesses, domestic abuse, physical abuse, mentions of suicide attempts, mentions of ED, mostly fluff, NSFW (SMUT! MINORS DNI!!), blackcat!reader and goldenretriever!jace, only rhaenyra's children with harwin exists in this au, title and fic inspired by There must be more than blood by Car Seat Headrest.
wc: 17.4K
a/n: this is for my babies who think they're unlovable of some sort, you are not too much or not enough, and you are completely lovable and you will find the rght kind of love for you one day.
When you first told Jacaerys that you have never actually celebrated Christmas before, you didn't think it would pull out such an intense reaction.
You've been dating him for about 4 months now, the two of you agreed to take things slow under your request, but by this point, you both have grown comfortable enough around each other to move forwards past the small talk stage.
And it is in these moments that you genuinely wonder if all the new small details and information about yourself that you had initially held from him before would cause any issues within the relationship. For example, the fact that you've never celebrated Christmas, or how you have an antipathy for your birthday and double dates. You also don't believe in celebrating annual anniversaries.
In the second month of your relationship with Jace, you discovered how important anniversaries were to him and it was an honestly amusing idea to you. But after you noticed how disappointed he was to find out that you didn't care for the special day, you decided to let his predilection for it prevail.
Plus it was just like having an extra special date every month that you didn't have to pay for, what's the harm in that?
Upon finding out that Christmas was a foreign concept to you, he asks you if it was a religion thing at first. You weren't particularly religious, nor are you against it in any way, then he asked you if it had anything to do with the whitewashing of Jesus Christ. You laughed until you realized he was serious.
"No, it's nothing to do with the whitewashing of Jesus of Nazareth." He raised a brow in suspicion. "Are you sure? Cause if it is then I fully support you." You smiled and him and shook your head in assurance. "I've just never celebrated it for some reason."
"But why?" He asked again, pushing for a good answer. Jace loved christmas, that one was easy to tell. You're just not sure if it's because he had strong family values and loved spending time with his family or because he really loved gifts and knew that he'd get good ones every year thanks to the fact that he is rich.
"My family never celebrated christmas, so I never did." You answered decisively. "Are they superstitious or something?" You replied no. "I guess my parents just didn't see what good it can do besides making a waste of money." Your financial situation was a touchy topic, you could see him leaving it at that, ending the interrogation. "So what'll you do on this 30th?" He asks instead.
"What I always do, stay at my apartment, maybe go on a shopping trip with all the Christmas discounts." His eyes widen in horror as if you've just told him that you had killed a man. "You're spending Christmas alone?" You could laugh at his worry if you didn't think that it would hurt his feelings. "Well, my roommate is flying back to her hometown."
"So, why don't you fly back home too? It's not just christmas, the semester break is over 2 weeks." You shrugged and went over some excuses in your head before settling for one. "Believe me, they'd rather I stay here and focus on my studies. There'd be no point anyway, since you know, I don't celebrate Christmas." His lips thinned as he analyzes you in the most obvious way possible, making you groan internally in your head.
Jace was a problem solver. You learned that very quick into your relationship.
He always tries to make the best out of every condition he's put into. And you can tell how much the idea of you being alone for two weeks bugged him. "Two weeks flies faster than you'll realize, I'm telling you Jace, I'm used to this." Oh that wouldn't cut it for him. "What if you came home with me?"
You blinked at him in confusion, his words registering very slowly. "No." You say the first thing you thought of.
His mouth makes an O shape in offense. "Why not?" You rolled your eyes. "You ask that question a lot." "If you answer me for real this time, I won't ask you that again for at least 5 days." You fought back a smile. "Fine. Because it's weird." He frowned. "No it's not, why would it be?"
"Because I've never met your family before, Jace." He shrugged in a careless manner. "Well, there's no time more perfect than Christmas."
Everything is so easy with you, you thought to yourself. Sometimes you wondered if he has ever been caught up in the anxiety of things possibly not going his way for at least once in his life. You weren't bitter, it's genuine curiosity. Jacaerys looked like the type of person who has never been afraid to take a chance with new and risky opportunities. One of them being you. He is either very lucky or very positive. Which in the case of him being incredibly privileged, both.
You took a deep breath before settling your back against the plush of the cushion of your hallway. He understood the indescribable look you gave him and leaned in to place his hands on your shoulder.
"My mom has wanted to see you for ages, there's nothing to be nervous about, I swear." You cocked your head at him. "You've already told your mom about me?" He grinned. "Yeah, she thinks you're pretty. "
Your eyes widened. "You showed her my picture?" He nodded. Oh well, this was inevitable, you told yourself. Really, can you even blame him? Every course of action he has taken so far has only proved himself to be as good as you figured he was from the moment you two met each other. Well at least his mom thinks I'm pretty.
It wasn't that you hated people or disliked socializing so much, moreso that it was just state of normalcy for you. You have friends of course, and you talk to other people, but up until you met Jace, all the other people in your life have always been viewed as a convenience. Association by luck and not exactly a friendship grounded by any sort of deep connection or intimacy.
You gave up trying to pursue or look for that kind of relationship a long time ago. And just when you expected it the least, Jacaerys came into your life and somehow managed to become an intregal part of it. 4 months later, you wonder if it's too early for you to confess that you're unable to really remember your life before him.
You let out a sigh, letting him pull you closer. "Is it not too fast? If this is because you don't like me staying alone, I swear I'm used to it." He didn't say anything at first and only embraced you with his chin resting over your head.
He was either thinking deeply about whatever you just said or he's waiting for you to give in. "2 weeks is a long time, I wouldn't even want to be around my family for 2 weeks." You say, trying to get him to relent.
"We leave on the second week of the break then. We could stay here for the first." It wasn't a bad suggestion, and you know it's not fair to him for you to be holding up all the cards. He deserves to have a say in certain things, and one week with his family sounded like a good compromise.
"I'll think about it." You told him at last. And by the look of his face, he knows he has won. He lowers his head down to kiss you, and you welcome it with ardor.
—
You first met Jacaerys 6 months ago at a frat party. Your project partner Cregan had invited you over, even knowing that oarties were never really your thing. But you were having a bad day and thought, why not?
On your way to the bathroom, you bumped into him. The two of you walked in opposite ways right onto each other. He apologized profusely and had taken your abrasive wave off hand as you made your way to the bathroom as a sign that you were offended. So he waited until you were done peeing so he could apologize again.
You were 5 drinks in dazed and confused, not exactly drunk but not really sober. You figured he probably wanted to hook up because who the hell apologizes this much for bumping into someone. So you glared at him and told him to fuck off.
You never saw him again for the rest of the party. But about 30 minutes later, you decided you were done with the badly remixed disco music and alcohol that tastes like fruit punch and wanted to return to your apartment. You weren't staying in dorms since you managed to rent a place nearby with another girl who was studying at the university too. And although it was much further from campus compared to the dorms, it was considered a walking distance.
How lucky you were that he ended up driving by the road you took walking home. You were prepared to flip him off when he turned his window down, asking if you needed a ride. But once you slowed down to actually look at him, you noticed a certain kind of sincerity in his eyes and gave in.
It wasn't often that you get to meet people who were kind for the sake of being kind. Most people are leeches. But not him.
Neither of you said anything throughout the whole ride except when you thanked him before getting off the car. You didn't think you'd ever see him again after that night. But like fated ropes intertwining, he was the first person you saw in your lecture the next day.
He waved at you from the back seat. You stared at him with squinting eyes to make sure it was the right person before you went back to ignoring him. He ended up moving his seat to the front more and more everytime the two of you had the class again, until 2 weeks in, he finally seated himself next to you. "Are you always this persistently annoying?" You had asked him then. "Only with the ones I like" It was stupid, and cliche and most disgustingly, cute.
And so with every encounter, you began to let your guard down and allow the relationship to naturally take it's own course. 2 months later, you officially started dating one of the most fawned over boys on campus.
Its 6.30am on a Sunday as you jog through the quiet streets behind your apartment building. You wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand, the heat turning your face red. 30 minutes from now, the roads will begin to flood with people walking to work or going on their own daily run. You know this because you've lived here for 3 years now.
When you decided to study at King's Landing University knowing it'll cost an expensive 3 hour flight for every time you'd want to go back home, it was an obvious decision both to yourself and to your family that you weren't really planning on coming back at all.
For all of 3 years you've been studying here, you had only flown back twice. And neither of those times felt worth the money you paid them for.
If this house suffocates you so badly, we'll see how far you'll survive out there all alone. Your mother had said to you 3 days before you went to college for your first year.
You had proved her wrong with your resilience, but at what cost? Your younger sister doesn't remember how you look like, and your older brother still takes every opportunity presented to him to try and belittle you every time the two of you meet.
Your father was ignorant, uncaring. And your mother? She loves you so much, with every bitter insult she throws your way and every provocation she purposely does just to get a reaction.
When you were 13 years old, she had told you to swing yourself off the highest building in response to you accidentally breaking her favourite plate. And at 16, she found herself crying by your bedside after your failed overdose attempt. At 18, she had spat on your face and announced that for as long as she lived, you would never know a life free of guilt and pain without her blessing as a mother.
At 19, The two of you hugged each other for the last time forever before you decided to never look back at that old haunted house.
You slowed down the pace of your jog, interchanging it with casual walking as you take in the sight of the rising sun. How many times have you walked these dewy streets that smelled like trees and dried rain? Too many to count. And yet, as much as you had tried to make a home out of this place, the isolating feeling that surrounded you daily was persistent.
It was the tiny voice in the back of your head saying, don't forget, these people aren't your people, and the face you put on every day that you're here isn't your own.
Loneliness was a kind of misery, but the hollow reassurance and comfort that came with proving yourself right every time a friend leaves you, or a man you thought was interested in you doesn't stay for the night, seemed to be the only constant thing in your life. That was until you met Jacaerys, of course.
You pause the music being played through your earphones, stretching your neck right after and deciding that you're ready to go home.
The flight to Dragonstone was in 3 days and you haven't really began packing. How much stuff did you need for a one week trip anyways? It was one of those moments that made you too anxious to do anything which ends up making you feel even more anxious because you haven't done anything. You do a turnaround and start walking back to your place as you reshuffle your morning playlist. A text from Jace pops up as your phone dings;
J: want 2 get breakfast in 20?
You swiped your phone open as you keep walking on a medium pace, replying with a quick OK.
It was a routine the two of you have build for over 2 months now, you'll do your 40 minutes morning jog and he'll be outside your building just in time for you to be done with your shower, eager to get some breakfast.
You're grateful for his company, it had become something you looked forward for daily. And for someone who has went through a fair share of disappointments, you really hope that this one would work out.
Anxiety plagued your thoughts as you rethink the idea of meeting his family for Christmas, what if they all thought you looked different than your photos? What if you say the wrong things or make the wrong joke and they think you're indecent? What if you say nothing and they all think you're boring?
The walk back home tired you enough to forget about those questions momentarily, but being given enough time to overthink once you reached your apartment and jumped into the shower, you figured you'd talk this out with Jace later.
He would probably just end up saying something sweet and useless like 'don't worry, just be yourself', but it's better than nothing.
The mirror becomes your worst enemy this morning, Fill in The Blank is playing from your phone as you stare at your dead eyes and immortalized eyebags. The only thing staring back at you is a reflection of a tired child. To grow up in a constant state of pain and to still be scared and hurting even after the war has ended was an everyday battle.
Because in your head, and even when you're sleeping, the war replays itself until you're worn out from it. You constantly remind yourself that you are now free, but sometimes the memory of it feels so alive that you end up making a prison of yourself despite the falseness of the alarm going off in your head.
Slipping a black t-shirt over your head while you make an estimation of how long it would take Jace to get here, you also let your mind stray for a bit, wondering if it all would've been easier if you were someone else. If Jace had dated someone else.
Maybe, maybe not. It didn't matter, because in the end you were still you, and you've only got yourself to work with.
You were drying your hair when you received another text from Jace saying taht he had arrived. Turning off the hair dryer, you sent a quick text back telling him that you were still getting ready and that the extra key was under the mat outside your door.
You could hear the front door click open 5 minutes later as you're finally done getting ready.
Exiting your room, you found him waiting by the kitchen, helping himself on some oreos that you just bought yesterday.
"I hope you're planning on paying me back for those cookies." You joked from the hall as you pulled out your hoodie from the coat hanger, slinging it over your shoulder. "I'll be paying you with my wonderful presence." He retorted back.
Once you found your purse, the two of you finally left the house to get some real food. After a few rounds of suggestions, you opted for a nearby cafe for some pancakes, though Jace ended up ordering some waffles instead.
The whole place was very secluded and smaller compared to the other cafes and diners in the area, but the meals were good and they were cheaper than the others too. You felt beyond lucky when you realized that it was just you both there in this hour. There were two other girls seated from the opposite of your table, but it was quiet enough to your liking.
"Are you done packing?" Jace asked expectedly. He was increasingly thrilled at the prospect of celebrating Christmas together with his family and his girlfriend. You shook your head no whilst you slurp up your strawberry milkshake.
"I'll start packing this evening." "Don't forget to bring a charger, and socks, because it'll probably be cold by the time we get there- oh, also you need a winter coat, and no slippers, only boots, do you want me to make you a list?" You smiled at him in amusement and answered no.
"I already made a list, I know what to bring, don't worry." He was worried, or maybe that's not the right word. No, he was excitable. "What about your parents?" He asks suddenly, causing you to pause in surprise. "What about my parents?"
He shrugged and inched closer to the table. "Have you told them you're coming with me for the semester break?" You relaxed your face, shrugging off the shocked expression you initially wore. "I don't think it's necessary, even if I wasn't going with you, I still wouldn't be going home either."
"Oh, okay." The silence was ineffable. You could hear a silent question that he didn't dare ask; why?
Your family was a rarely spoken topic in your relationship with him. It was easy to not overthink it at first, but you knew that Jace had noticed how you try your best to never bring them up.
"Plus-" you felt the necessity to add, "-they would probably be against the idea if I did tell them about it." He shares a look of curiosity, expecting you to elaborate. "My parents are kind of a strict." You chose to say. "So, they don't know that we're dating?" You shook your head. "They sound protective of you." He says it so confidently that it made you laugh dryly.
A bitter smile was painted over your face as you kept your eyes on the food. "Controlling, would be a more fitting term."
When you finally looked up to meet his gaze, you could tell there was more he wanted to ask, or comment on, but you weren't in the mood to start explaining your lore to him. Thinking about your family made you nauseous, and you really wanted to eat the pancakes without throwing up. "Believe me, its better this way." You concluded, making sure he won't have room to continue.
"Anyways, aren't you the one who should be briefing me about your family." Jacaerys grinned and seemingly forgot about your earlier conversation immediately. "There's not really much to say, you know my brothers Luc and Joffrey? They're pretty young, little rascals but harmless most of the time." You nodded earnestly, encouraging him to go on.
"My mom and dad are excited to meet you, you have nothing to worry about, I'm honestly more scared that they'll end up preferring you than me."
You snorted at that. "Ah yes, I do have a reputation with old people. Do you think it's my beautiful face?" He pretends to think for a moment before responding, "Well it can't be your charming personality." A laugh burst out of you at his words, causing you to receive a glare from the girls from the other table. You gasped out suddenly, remembering a small detail you've never discussed before. "I should bring gifts right?" A look of realization passes over Jace's face at the same time.
"I mean it's Christmas, I've never done it before, but I know presents are a thing."
Jace was quick to interject, telling you it's no need. "They wouldn't care, our tradition is all about spending time together, presents are just courtesy." He explained.
"Yes well, I should get them gifts as a courtesy then." He opens his mouth to argue but you shut him down immediately before he could. "I won't get anything crazy, it's just courtesy like you said." A lot of people might perceive you as nonchalant and uncaring, but the truth was you've always been the person who cares too much until it backfires.And as much as you wished you weren't so desperate to make a good first impression, you do want to, deep in your heart you knew that.
"Okay, fine, if you want to. But you can just get them some keychain or mugs, especially for my brothers, they're already being spoiled enough." You smile gratefully for his cooperation and agree on his terms.
—
One of your favorite terms in the world is the term "white lie." Any lie is excusable if you call it a white lie. It was a form of manipulation that you were used to being given. At first, you implemented it in your life as a way to please other people. A way to become more likeable and less of a burden.
You spent your whole teenage life trying to earn bits and pieces of your mother's love.
No, I'm not mad that you didn't get it for me and only bought one for my brother. Yes, it is my fault that I'm too sensitive and defensive every time we argue. No, I can't remember the last time you ever hit me. Not even the one time from last week when you pulled me by my hair, dragging me to the bathroom and used the water hose on me.
The truth soon became the most dangerous thing in your life. Candor wasn't appreciated in your home. You must watch your mouth and accept what you are given gratefully.
The cycle lasted for years until you turned 16. You had grown strong enough to push her back every time she tried to land a hit on you. Strong enough to know what to say to make it hurt for her too.
The white lies soon turned into a form of protection. No, I wasn't smoking weed under the bleachers after school hours just because it felt safer there than it does in my room. No, I don't know why I'm being written down for failing several subjects consecutively for the whole year, I thought I was doing just fine. No, I know you're doing all of this because you love me.
No, I don't think I can book a flight home for 5 days. I just got a new job, there's too much shit to do.
You stare down at your phone, the unread text stared back at your face.
M: I don't blame you for not wanting to come home, but if you want to, you can.
The only message you've gotten for her for the whole year. Her ego wouldn't force her to plead for her only daughter to come back. So she plays saint and paints you as the girl who grew up too fast and forgot all about home.
I love you, mom. You wanted to say. Love wouldn't be enough.
When was the last time she ever said that she loved you? You can never recall. It definitely wasn't the day before you went to college. No, the night before was spent holding you from behind as the two of you slept in your childhood bed. She had her face in the crook of your neck and you heard her whisper when she thought you were asleep; you were my mirror, and I'm sorry I broke you into pieces just so it'd match my cracks.
She laid with you for a few more minutes before getting up to leave. You cried until dawn and never got a wink of sleep right after.
You expected the newfound freedom to feel exhilarating, but instead, you felt more out of place during the first week at the university than you did at home. It was comical, ironic, how the only pair of hands you wanted to comfort you were the same ones that had beaten bruises on your skin. I miss you, you almost texted her.
Was it still considered a white lie or a form of manipulation if the only person you wanted to trick was yourself? No, I'm not upset that she never called or texted to ask if I've safely landed. No, I never wonder if she regrets everything she's done to me. No, I don't hate her so much sometimes that it could be translated as a child throwing a tantrum just to get their parents to pay attention to her. No, I don't like having one night stands just to know what it's like to be touched without being inflicted with pain.
No, I never wake up from dreams of you loving me the same way you loved your son and consider it a nightmare instead.
But of all times you've dreamt of her, this time you woke up from it with the only person you wanted comfort from, still sleeping next to you. And for the first time since you could remember, it was not your mother.
Your eyes remained on your phone screen, hung up on every word of the message. Glancing once at your boyfriend, you turn back to your phone to switch it off before you move to lay back under the covers.
---
It was 8 days before Christmas. Watching snow fall from the sky was somehow more magical than getting to sit on a first class plane for the first time
You tried to take pictures from above, but the snow didn't look as clear and visible through the phone as it did from your eyes.
You're hands are fully gloved, with your little bunny designed ear muffs that Jace bought for you a few days ago.
"I feel like that thing from Big Hero 6." You told him before leaving. "His name is Baymax, put some respect on it." Was his response before he pinched your cheeks with both hands.
4 hours later, the two of you are strapped in comfortable seats, the cold getting stronger, and you're both grateful for the winter jackets you had on.
"It's so beautiful." You spoke, looking out from the small window. "Yeah, beautiful." When you twisted your neck to look at him, he was already staring at you. "What?" You asked. He shrugged, face blank. "Nothing."
Neither of you broke eye contact. Your frown deepens as you try to figure out what has trying to tell you. He blinked. You were gonna ask what again until it hit you. "Jace, no."
"I didn't even say anything." He whined, defending himself. "We're not having sex on a plane." "See, I didn't even have to say it, you were just thinking the same thing." You fought the urge to roll your eyes, cocking your head to the side, baffled at his suggestion.
"Do you know how many germs there are on this plane?" He shrugged again. "It's first class." You throw your hands up in frustration. "It's times like these that I remember you're a jock." He should've been offended, but he was still confused about what you mean.
"This place is full of germs, it's not even advisable to wash your face or do skin care on a plane because that's how dirty the air is." You patiently explained, watching him get more confused. "But we're not doing skincare, we're doing each other." You turned away, groaning loudly with your eyes closed.
"You're so boring." He complained like a child. "I'm also gonna snitch on your mom if you don't get your shit together." He snorted at that, pulling out his headphones out of his small slingbag. "She won't believe you, I'm her baby." "Yeah, you are a baby."
His head snapped at you immediately, before he could come up with a smart response that probably would have to do something to do with his penis, You pushed his head back to the other side, patting his cheeks like you would a toddler and quickly put on your headphones.
He turned around again and said something, but at that point you already turned up the volume. "Sorry, I can't hear you baby." He stuck his tongue out in annoyance. You thought you heard him mutter 'baymax looking ass' but didn't react as you didn't want him to think he won.
The flight was 2 and a half hours long. You were sure you could stay awake for that amount of time, but once the flight attendant brought out the heated blanket, the both of you were down in 5 minutes.
The pilot said something through the comm that you were too sleepy to hear once the plane had finally reached the destination. You wiped your eyes with the back of your fists groggily and began shaking Jace to wake up while yawning.
The first nudge did nothing, you started tapping him on the shoulder, which by the 6th tap, you finally got a response; "5 more minutes please."
Only when you leaned closer into his ears and blew air into it does he jolt up, eyes wincing. "That tickles." He murmured, wiping his hand over his tired face. "We're about to land." You informed him, taking your headphones off and passing it to him to keep in his bag. "Okay."
You were honestly eager to get your cramped ass out of the plane, but as you refresh yourself with bottled water, the realization dawned upon you. His mother, or father, would be waiting at the airport.
The comm dinged again as the pilot announced landing. The flight attendants were all quick to get to their seat once a loud zooming noise startled everyone. "There we go." You mumbled under your breath.
He helped you up once you were able to take the seat belt off. Jace slings his bag over his shoulder and uses his right hand to carry your extra duffle bag, his left hand intertwined with yours, helping you descend down the stairs before him.
"Let me hold it." You offered, but he shook his head no. "If my mom or dad saw me making you carry anything they'll strangle me." He sounded serious so you let him penguin walk with your hands still holding his, making your way over the baggage section.
"Are you excited." He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. "Over the moon." You answered with a tight smile. If he noticed the sarcasm, he didn't comment on it. "Good, I promise this will be your best Christmas yet." He sounded so convincing that it made you smile against your will.
"It's literally my first Christmas, so I don't think there'll be any competition yet, Jace." "Exactly." You laughed quietly, letting him take the lead as you walked through the crowded space of the airport. Once you got on the elevator, you were going to ask him if he could see his parents from here, but he cut you to it by shouting loudly and waving both your hands up in the air. "We're here!"
Jesus fuck, you thought. If you were anywhere else, you would've immediately pulled his arm down, what with everyone around you glaring at him. But his parents were watching, and you saw his parents wave back excitedly, thankfully neither were yelling back.
The first observation you make as you begin to near them was how much he looked like his father. His mother looked exquisitely different than him. She was beautiful, with platinum blonde hair tied in a bun, her eyes smiled every time her lips did. You found yourself with a small smile, beaming at their joy as his mother started walking towards you both. I don't think I've ever seen anyone's parents this happy to have their child back home.
"Finally." You hear his mother sigh out as she pulls Jacaerys in a hug. She was quick to pull away so she could get a good look at his face. "Look at you, exactly the same." He rolls his eyes. "It's been like 6 months." She ignored his wit and pushed him aside to take you in. You didn't have the time to extend a hand as she pulls you in an embrace too. You yelped at first but hugged her back easily and smiled at her.
"So this is the sweetheart Jace has been keeping from me?" She joked, holding the side of your face with her palms. "I think I should be the one saying that." You didn't know why you said that, but it made her laugh heartily, only after you said it did you realize that it sounded like you were flirting with your boyfriend's mom.
From the corner of your eyes you could see Jace walking over to you with his father. "Have you eaten yet? You must be famished."
L That's another thing you noticed about his family. They use words like famished. The way his mother spoke sounded regal, you could even say royalty.
"Oh it's fine, I've already had some cheesecake on the plane." Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, seeing that her frown deepens. "Oh, that's barely lunch, and it's almost tea time too."
You thought tea time was a myth honestly, something British people made up to sound funny, like the monarchy. As far as you can remember, you grew up only eating one full meal a day at home. Your mother would buy you nothing else and asked if you were really that hungry, you'd assert another white lie and tell her that you really can't eat too much anyways and that your appetite is small.
As you grew older, your appetite did grow smaller, but it ended up making you feel guilty every time you wanted to eat more than once a day, as you would feel like you don't deserve it.
"It's fine, we've cooked up a nice meal back home, once you get yourself cleaned up, we can all eat together." She was incredibly soft spoken, and she looked at you in a very motherly manner. Your thank you was cut off as you hear her husband called out. "Rhaenyra-'' he appears by her side, smiling widely at you, his features remarkably similar to his son. "There you are, the prettiest girl he's ever seen, eh?" He winked at Jace, making him stutter, turning red. "Dad please-" He ignores him just like Rhaenyra did before.
"Well how do you do?" You shook hands with his father, introducing yourself. At least this time you didn't say anything that sounds like you're trying to seduce Jace's father.
Once the formalities was over, his father helped pick up the baggage that finally arrived, they have a large range rover, more than enough to fit 2 weeks worth of clothes. Jace was going to sit in the back with you, but his mother wacked him in the head and told him to sit up front. "You can't bring your girlfriend over and then hoggle her for yourself." She warned him as climbed up the back seat after you.
You're not sure if the reason you're absolutely terrified to look at Rhaenyra was because she doesn't look like a mother of 3 or because you wanted to impress her. But you tried your best to appear calm as her husband started driving. “Have you eaten anything yet sweetheart?” He asks from the front, equally as sweet as his wife.
“Uh, I had a cheesecake-” “Oh a cheesecake? For the whole day? That's not good, Jace, why didn't you buy her anything.” He scolded his son.
“She didn't want anything else-” “That can't be true, you little pig, you can't eat so much and then starve your girlfriend!”
“I'm really fine.” Your assurance wasn't acknowledged as his mother joined in. “That's right, you're lucky we cooked something up.” “She had a cheesecake-” Jace attempts to defend himself, which only made his father snort. “You know how plane foods are, they’re tiny!” You nodded in agreement, quietly whispering, “Yeah they are.” Which earned you a glare from Jace. He did try to get you to eat more, but like he said, you weren't interested. “Already teaming up against me.” He mumbled in annoyance.
The whole car ride home was peaceful. They continued to make small talk with you, asking if you've ever went skiing before, apparently it's something they did every Christmas. “Don't worry, it's quite easy, Jace could teach you when we go together.” Rhaenyra said to you later.
“Does your parents know you're here? We don't want to steal you away from them for your sem break.” Rhaenyra asked apologetically. Why did everyone care so much about whether your parents knew or not? “Oh yeah, they don't mind.” The lie came on so naturally that you forgotten about Jace being told the opposite. He snuck a glance at you but it was too quick that you didn't manage to catch his reaction. ”Good, good.” Rhaenyra concluded, relieved to hear it.
The car pulls up into a guarded neighborhood. You weren't surprised to see that most of the houses inside are mansions, perfected with their own large car porches and a garden. And you weren't surprised to see the house they finally reached in the end was as equally large as the others. The outside walls were gray and cream coloured, you could seentwo different entrances from the side and from the front by the porch.
“Home sweet home.” Jace spoke from his seat. If your house looked like that than it'd be a sweet home too.
—-
It wasn't a bad dream that jolted you awake tonight. But rather the jarring change of surrounding that you weren't used to. Jace lays on his side, an arm lazily hung over your waist. It was his snoring that pulled you out if your confusion. The white and large curtains covering the see through doors of the balcony looked unfamiliar because they aren't yours, they're Jace's.
And the reason why the floor felt so cold once you placed both your feet on the ground after you've gently push his hands off to climb off the bed was because it's made of marble, not concrete like you were used to.
Slipping into the bathroom quietly and turning on the sink tap, the brutal coldness of the water made you wince. You let your fingers familiarize with the feeling before wiping it over your dull face.
It was 2am, the clock hung on the walls of the dimly lit room read. A dreaded and fatigued part of you wanted to get back to bed, but there was a restlessness growing inside of your bones. Today is the third day that you've been here, 6 days until Christmas. You had spent the past few days helping Rhaenyra bake gingerbread cookies and joined in snowball fights with Jace and his siblings.
Your boyfriend definitely had more fun than his younger brothers. How fun it was to be able to chuck 7 snowballs in a row at his girlfriend's face before she starts chasing him into the snowflake covered woods threatening to dropkick him.
You thought things have been going pretty well so far. At first you had worried that your quiet personality would somehow make things awkward, but you seemed to have fit in rather easily with them.
You weren't shy or anything, just more reserved than most. And not that you'd ever tell Jace to his face, but Joffrey probably was your favourite. He was the youngest and the cutest. At first he had completely ignored you on the first night that you arrived, but the next day during breakfast he showingly changed his mind for his dislike or indifference for you by making Jace switch places with him to sit by your left.
It was announced on that very same day that you are to be his favourite person in that house too.
The door made a small creaking noise as you opened it to leave. Walking down the dark corridor that led downstairs, you walked yourself to the kitchen, looking for something to drink. Help yourself to the fridge, Rhaenyra had told you 2 days ago. Well, don't mind if I do.
The fridge light shone over your face like the glow of heaven as you bend down to see your choices. They had cranberry juice, which wasn't exactly your favourite, but it was better than orange juice which was another thing they had. There's bar of chocolate you're tempted to steal, but you have a feeling it's not yours to take.
Just as your hand extends to grab at the cranberry juice, the kitchen lights flicker open, making you flinch so hard that you accidentally banged your head on the upper part of the fridge. "Ow."
"Oh it's just you." Rhaenyra's voice laughed out. Pulling your head out like a snack thief, you smiled sheepishly at her.
"Sorry, was gonna grab a drink." She shook her head and head over to the kitchen sink, washing her hands. "It's fine, I thought you were Joffrey, he likes to steal his brother's chocolate bars." Well that's something the two of you have in common.
"What are you drinking?" She asks turning to look at you. "Just cranberry juice." She hummed in disagreement, shaking her head. "In this cold season? Take a seat, I'll make some tea." You have never jumped so quickly to interject anyone. "Oh no, It's fine! Really, it's 2am, I should probably get back to sleep anyways.".
She seems to take light of your argument, already pulling out a teapot and a small Camomile teabag. "Oh it's no bother, if you weren't craving anything then you wouldn't be awake rummaging through the fridge anyways." You stood awkwardly by the closed fridge watching her add hot water into the pot. "Fetch me the sugar will you?" You moved quickly to pull out the tub of sugar from one of the kitchen cabinets, passing it to her.
"So, what's keeping you up at night?" You shrugged lightly, leaning against the kitchen counter as you didn't want to sit and wait at the table like a brat. "Nothing really, I'm insomniac, so..." Her eyes widened momentarily. "Oh really?" You nodded.
"Mmhm, I take medication for it, but sometimes it doesn't work." She reacts with a string of Ooohs, stirring inside the pot with a long spoon.
"Melatonin?" You nodded again. That, and some anti psychotics.
Once she's finally done with the tea, you sat by her as she poured it into two mugs for the both of you. It was odd that she was up for small talk this late in the night, but you enjoyed conversing with her. "You know I don't think I've ever asked you what major you are, and that silly boy has never told me." "I'm an art major." You answered. She smiled so dotingly at the response, sincerely intrigued. "An art major? You can draw then?" You hummed positively. "Draw, paint a little."
She sips her hot tea patiently. "I'm a fan of art myself, have you heard of Egon Schiele?" You laughed breathily. "Of course, who doesn't?" Rhaenyra tipped her head to the side in a small nod of agreement. "I have some of his paintings on my office, his works had been a favourite. Quite an expressive man isn't he?" You considered the man's work with his personal life. "Not exactly a role model but yeah, he is."
Your tea is finished, but you remain unmoved on the chair, waiting for her to continue. "You know I believe that the arts is the heart of humanity. Some people might not agree, people who can't see beyond the techniques and brush strokes, but art is what happen when you try to make beauty out of pain, isn't it? I mean as stereotypical as it sounds."
Your eyes were no longer droopy from sleepiness, they match the pure intensity Rhaenyra's had. "It is. Without art, and I don't mean just paintings- I mean poetry and literature and theatre, pain would just be pain. Meaningless." "Exactly."
You don't know what the silent words being exchanged through your gazes actually meant, but something did cross between the two of you, an understanding of a sort, an alliance in beliefs.
"I also believe that those who dabble in art, in any mediums, are the ones who love the strongest and lose the hardest." An unintentional smile bloomed over your face. "Tell me about it." Rhaenyra laughs lightly. "Have you always dabbled in art?" She questioned.
You relive blurry memories of badly drawn trees and stick humans done when you were a child. "Sure, yeah. I've always liked it. I mean it's not just this magical talent I have or anything, as much as the arts is viewed in a much bigger scale of its effects to society as a whole, it's could also be deemed important in indivual intepretation."
Rhaenyra leans back against her chair, hands placed on her lap politely. "Like for example- art is intimate because it is yours.
- It doesn't have to have a deeper meaning all the time and neither does it have to emotionally strike you for it to be considered art. To love, some people say, is to be understood. But we can never truly understand anyone, no matter how hard we think we can.
-And so I think that art, just like people, can be loved even without context. Whatever feeling it sparks inside of you, it is intimate because it is complicated, and it is intimate because it can mean a hundred different things to a hundred different people."
Her expression was unreadable. You wondered if you have confused or overwhelmed her. But after a few minutes of silence, she asked; "And what about people?" "What about it?"
"You compared it to art, and you said art needn't be understood to be loved, does the same goes for people?" You clasped your cold hands on the warm mug and pursed your lips together, your thoughts racing each other.
"Yeah, it does. I mean I use to think that being with a person who understood you was the most important thing in the world, and though it does feel good to finally be seen by someone else, like I said before, it is nearly impossible to be truly understood. And so, the second best thing would be to be loved despite not being understood. To have someone who believes in you, even if they're not sure about the situation or the facts or your rationality, that is love. To be believed in."
"Faith?" Rhaenyra suggests. "Yes, faith."
You stood up right after, taking her empty cup to wash for too despite her complaints, hand washing them as you're not sure how to use a dishwasher. "I'm glad you're here." Rhaenyra spoke from behind you. It wasn’t the validation that had struck you so deeply in the chest, nor was it her appreciation for you, instead, ot was her acceptance. "I'm glad I'm here too."
In this small moment between 2 to 3am on a Thursday at your boyfriend's kitchen, you wonder if you've found the right kind of people to call home.
"Thanks for the tea, I hope I didn't keep you up." You thanked her in a hushed voice, genuinely grateful. She returned your smile and squeezed your shoulder softly. "You did no such thing, now go get some sleep, alright?"
When you returned to Jace's room, you find him sitting up on the bed in the dark. You closed the door behind you slowly and tiptoed towards him.
"Where'd you go?" He asks sleepily, pulling you close to his chest as he moves to lie back down. "Went to get a drink." You whispered back. "For 20 minutes?" You snorted and lifted your head up to kiss him on the cheek before placing your head back under his chin. "Your mother couldn't sleep either, she made tea."
Jace accepted the response, asking no more questions. His arms wrap around your body the way a ship holds on to an anchor. You didn't know how much you needed someone to need you until you met him.
You notice that he's still awake, with the way his finger is lightly tapping the skin of your shoulder. "Did I wake you up? Sorry." You feel him shaking his head slightly. "No, I was just thinking." He mumbled back. "About?" You inquired him.
"You, I miss you." You frowned and pulled back to look at him. "I'm right here." He shrugged. "I know, but sometimes you're not. Sometimes you're here but when I look at you, you're gone. And I don't know how to bring you back." You feel a splinter in your heart when he said that. How foolish you are to expect him to be so stupid to never notice how unstable you can be at times, how easily you dissociate and push him away before pulling him right back.
"I'm sorry." You told him sincerely, not sure what else there is that could be said.
"I'm not angry, or upset. I just want you to know that Im right here with you too, and I'm not going anywhere." You smiled sadly at him and nodded. "I know." Your noses booped together and he returns your small smile. "Anything you need me for, I'm here." Jacaerys assures you, half yawning. "I just need you to trust me, and I'll trust you. Can you do that for me?" He stared silently for a moment and then nodded once. "Okay, I trust you. But you have to honor your end."
You pecked his lips with one hand caressing his cheek. "I trust you." You promised.
—
It was 3 days before Christmas. You've spent the past week skiing and building a snowman with the kids. These past few days have been so suspiciously peaceful that it's terrifying.
You're on edge, despite the happiness this family has brought you. You like to tell yourself that you're just being careful, but the truth is that sometimes you can't tell the difference between a house fire and a small candle.
You had texted your mother 2 days ago, confessing to her that you've been spending this week with your boyfriend's family. You made sure to keep your lie about your job going, stating that this visit was a last minute kind of thing. She never answered.
She shouldn't be bothered, you soothed yourself. She never cared if you ever actually came home or not, why should this be an exception?
You and Jacaerys have spent the day going from shop to shop, eyeing beautiful Christmas lights and discounts available. You started with a bakery in the morning, Rhaenyra's suggestion. You had gotten free tastings on many of the popular cake choices before Jace finally settled on buying his mother's favourite Lemon cake.
He had urged you to pick something for yourself and you landed on some éclairs, finishing them up on the car ride to the antique gift shop a few blocks further.
The store had a giant nutcracker statue staring out from inside the windows, they reminded you of the old Christmas movies you spent watching as a child. The bell on the door jiggled loudly as you entered after Jace, a longing gaze towards the nutcracker, hints of nostalgia filling up your heart.
An elderly lady guarded the counter with a smile. "Looking for anything in particular?" She asks. Jace shook his head and smiled back. "Just looking around." He soon found himself crouching down at the snow globe sections, pulling a few out of the shelves to eye the intricate details.
You had walked to the candle shelves, admiring the colourful choices. There was another nostalgic thing on candles too. A superstitious kind. The way you used to blow on them for every birthday or random nights you remembered to lit up your rose scented candles that stays on your bedside, wishing on them like you do on a shooting star.
Asking for some kind of mercy from whichever god there was looking down at you. But in the end you had to pull yourself up without any kind of divine intervention. You had learned that there was only one god inside of you, and she was a girl fed on rage and grievance who spent her nights weeping in her empty altar.
The girl was still there, quieter now, but unflickering, unlike a candle.
You eye the red coloured candle gently, sniffing on the wax to identify the scent. Rose. You place it back on the shelf and move on to the cutlery sets.
You loved cutlery, plates and mugs. Maybe it's the 20s getting to you, but some days you feel that the house decoration section of IKEA was better than any night club you've been in. A beautiful chipped cup stared at you from the lower shelves. It was beautiful, purple flowers drawn on the curves and long thing green ropes on the holder.
You were pulling it out to look inside when your phone suddenly dinged multiple times, buzzing in the pocket of your pants. Clumsily, you pushed the cup back in and took your phone out whilst still crouching.
M: Is this some sort of tantrum you're throwing?
the first notification read, making you frown. You don't have the strength to swipe open the screen to read the full sentence, only reading what's shown on your lockscreen. Just before you could click it off after pressing mute, another notification enters, the words too bright, reading themselves aloud to you.
M: you're selfish, do you ever think about anyone else but yourself? It's always how you feel because only yo-
the full message was cut off as another notification enters. Irritation filled you the same time that your eyes pricked with angry tears. You blinked a few times to get rid of it as you shove your muted phone back in your pants.
I can't fucking deal with this right now. You told yourself. Your phone buzzed again, making you harshly take it back out to turn off the vibration.
It always has t be a problem with her. Selfish she called you? On the one time you decided to do something fo yourself?
Pulling yourself up to stand your kneed are met with the cup that's still half out from it's shelf, shoving it behind strongly, a small crash sound turned your whole body into stone.
You bend back down immediately, pulling out the chipped mug and the small broken pieces of it's corners. You could hear the owner getting up. Shit shit shit. "What was that sweetie?"
You turned to her with a saddened expression. "I'm so sorry, I'll pay for it-" the woman's eyes moved from your face to the glass pieces and gasped. "Oh my, wait here- I'll get the broom." As soon as she disappeared to the store room, Jacaerys was by your side in the next second. "What happened?" He bends down.
"It was an accident, I smashed it with my knee." Your voice was shaky and you feel your fingers prick as you try to sweep the pieces onto your left palm before the lady returned. "Baby, put it back, she's bringing the broom." He warned you. You shook your head lightly and kept picking up the tiny sharp ones. "It's fine, I got it-" Jace grabbed your hand and turned it upside down so they fall back on the ground.
"Jace what the fuck is wrong with you." You snapped, pulling your hand back. Your voice was high, close to yelling. "Your hand is fucking bleeding, there's literal cuts." He argued back, trying and failing to grab at your wounded hand.
The store room door opened loudly, the both of you turned to see the lady walking over quickly with a small broom. "Move aside you two." She ordered calmly.
"I can do it for you, it was my fault." You offered her, ignoring how Jace is trying to pull you back. "Oh no, it's fine sweetie, it happens all the time." You opened your mouth to ask again, desperate to try and fix the mess you made, but you could feel Jace's grip on your arm tightening and stayed silent.
"I didn't mean to." You whispered. His grip loosens, his hand moved from your arm to your shoulder. "It's fine, I'll pay for it." He immediately widened his eyes to warn you to keep quiet, knowing you'd argue against it. "Let me pay for it now, we'll discuss this later." He muttered closely to you. Your lips pursed together, not wanting to say or do anything you can't take back, you shush up.
There is large wave of emotion building up inside of you. It was overwhelming because it's not just one emotion. As the anger dissolves into pathetic guilt, you bite your lip from bursting out crying. Blinking fastly for a few more times, you managed to keep your breakdown from blowing up.
Standing by the door like a rock, you watch as Jace pulls out his purse to pay for the damage. You can see the lady shaking her head, denying his money. "It's old, not worth anything." You hear her say to him.
He ended up buying a tint snow globe and aa keychain anyways, to make up for the broken cup. She seemed to hold no grudge in her expression, smiling at the two of you and saving as you left.
Neither of you said anything on the walk to the car. Once you got in and strapped on the seatbelt, you twisted your face to him to see if he was upset and noticed that he was frowning. He hands you the small plastic gift, looking straight up front. A small sigh leaves him after he turns up the AC. the car engine noise filling up the tension between you.
"It was an accident." You repeated. He finally turns to you, with a look much worse than rage. Disappointment, pity. "I know." He responds softly. "I was just trying to clean it up, I felt bad." He nodded quietly, slowly averting his gaze to the steering wheel.
More silence filled the gap. When he finally steps on the pedal to reverse out of the parking, you turned away to look out the window in resolve. Nothing was said throughout the whole ride home.
Rhaenyra was excited to have you both home by evening. Her husband was quickly chastised for taking the first bite off of her cake. The sight was both amusing and endearing. You would've smiled in another scenario.
Jace talked and moved like nothing happened, offering for you to take a shower first before him, helping his mother with the dishes as the children are scolded for running around the kitchen. "Go to your room." Jace forced them with a kind of authority that you rarely see in him.
You watch the kids run up pass you, saying hi to you before they disappeared to their rooms.
Going for a shower yourself, you found solace in the privacy that his bathroom gave you. Letting the hot water run down your body along with your tears, you couldn't tell the difference between whicb and which.
Your face and eyes was red by the time you were done, the hot water obviously helped with that. But the warmth after cold skin biting walks was calming, even with the overthinking that came with today's events, the shower helped to bring down the temperature of your emotions.
Washing your face with cold water from the sink next, you avoid looking in the mirror. Shame erupted inside your chest, like a child scorned and embarrassed by their own behaviour.
You could hear Jace walk in the room from the bathroom. The door makes a sound as it's shut close. Letting your hair down for the first time today, you combed the wild strands with your fingers, lightly massaging your head as you brave yourself to face him again.
You didn't do anything wrong, why are you so scared?
You push the door open and dry your feet on the carpet outside of it. Jace was sitting on his bed, shirtless and charging his phone by the bedside.
He gives you a glance when be hears your footsteps and then turns back away like it's nothing. You're as watchful as him as you begin to dress yourself, sliding a green long-sleeved shirt over your head. You'd layer a cardigan over it later, but for now you're craving the chill after your hot shower.
He gets up to place his snow globe on his dressing table and hooked the small heart shaped keychain on his laptop bag. You sat yourself on the bed, feeling it dip and watching him still.
He turns on the small light on the front of his room after he's done closing all the curtains, and then you watch him take his trousers off before taking down his towel from the coat hanger and enter the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Hearing the sound if water begin falling from where he's in, you let your shoulder relax, a tired sigh escapes you.
You leaned back against the pillows and closed your eyes for a moment, letting the world around you turn dark.
—
The first time Jacaerys had slept over in your apartment was the first time he ever knew you were on multiple medication. It was the first time the two of you ever had sex, and he had passed out easily after. You, despite being tired, found yourself kept awake by your thoughts.
You can't remember what exactly kept you up but it was 2 hours in when he was startled awake by your shuffling around.
You had spent the last hours contemplating if you should grab a pill to help fall asleep or if it was too late and the pill would cause you to sleep in on tomorrow morning's class. And so the indecisiveness resulted in you trying your best and failing to fall asleep naturally. He looked up at you groggily and frowned.
"How you been awake the whole time?" He asked. You sighed tiredly and laid on your back.
"Yeah, sorry, did I wake you?" He shook his head and wiped a hand over his face. "You didn't, it's fine. I just thought you'd be down easy after all that."
You snorted and shook your head. "I'm insomniac."
"Oh." You nodded. "Yeah I have meds for it, but sometimes the pills all just clash together and it doesn't really work." He hummed in understanding. You noticed he doesn't ask more about the pills. It was either he didn't care or he was being respectful. You learned weeks in later that it was the latter. Unsurprisingly.
"Well, what do you do when you can't sleep?" You shrugged your shoulders. "Dunno. Watch stuff on my phone."
"What do you usually watch?" He asks, characteristically interested. "Gay sex." His head jolted forward and his eyes immediately widened. "I'm joking."
His shock immediately watered down as he gave you a faint laugh in response. "Right, of course."
You spent the rest of the night talking to him until your body gave in and you collapsed around his arm around dawn.
It's not an easy thing to forget, a man's first show of affection in small subliminal ways that some people might not notice. But you did, you always do.
That was not the last time you'd see him sacrifice his own comfort to make you feel less lonely than you already were. In a room full of people, colleagues, friends and family, you found that only he had the power to make you feel seen.
Other people looked at you and saw what you let them see. But Jacaerys was willing to pay much more attention to the things other people didn't want to. Your condition, whatever it's called (most people call it complicated), often made people uncomfortable. How is it a person like you could be so non chalant yet care so much at the same time. How was it you were reserved, but not shy or accepting of anyone's attempts to step over you?
They can't quite understand the complexity of being a damaged person that still tries their best to undo those damages on a daily. Niceties didn't always equal empathy. You learned that very early on in your life. To find someone who wouldn’t try to fix the hard parts of your self or resent you for them wasn't easy.
Most men, that you knew of, will either try to "fix" you in an attempt to make themselves feel heroic. Like a savior. And when they realise too far in that those scars you bared was unreversable, they use it againts you instead. They paint you out to be the bad guy for those same traits they promised and vowed to be so understanding of.
And for almost the only time ever in your life that night, you didn't feel like your secrets were owed to anyone. A safe space was a place you knew you could be vulnerable with, but t was also supposed to be a place where you knew you could still be caution with all your walls up and still wouldn't be judged for it.
It was him who stayed through the cold shoulders and unanswered questions. And so, it was also him who you then trusted your whole heart with.
---
You were woken up 30 minutes before dinner time. Feeling the soft nudge Jacaerys gave you, shaking you awake easily. His hand lingered on your shoulder until you were sitting up fully. You thanked him and went up to the bathroom to wash your face.
"Mom's making lasagna tonight." He says ftom outside the bathroom door. He no longer referred to Rhaenyra as 'my mom', including you as part of the family without any awkwardness.
"I love lasagna." You called back. "I know."
The cold sink water have been getting warmer and warmer as the snow outside begins to melt. The weather was still antagonizing, but driving through the wet road was easier now, and morning showers are less dreadful.
"You know, we don't really get snow back home." You quipped as you turn off the sink, making your way out. "Really?" He asked, genuinely astonished.
"Yeah, it's a much warmer climate where I'm from." He was putting on a sweater by his mirror when you came out, his eyes met yours through the reflection. "So, you've never built a snowman before?".
You smiled and nodded, walking over to the bed. "Nope, the one we did the other day was my first time." Snowman building and snowball fights were fun, though you wouldn’t admit to your boyfriend that you much preferred staying inside with the heater on as you munch on some cookies and hot chocolate.
You were layering moisturiser over your face when you hear Jace speak, "I forgot to tell you, your mom called on your phone while you were sleeping." You froze for a second before your hands resumed massaging your face with the product.
"Oh, did you talk to her?" You asked, giving him a quick glance. Jacaerys shook his head and you felt relief spread through your whole body.
He sat by your side, watching you do your skincare routine meticulously. "I muted it, but you should probably call her back, it was two misscalls." You hummed uncaringly, as if it was the least important thing in the world, not wanting to give out a suspicious reaction.
The truth was you did not have the guts to check your messages at all since you came back from the shopping trip. You had her on mute and that had helped calm your nerves. But knowing that she had went as far as calling you twice, which believe it or not, is the first time you've ever had that much attention from her, was anxiety inducing.
"I'll call her later." You stated, noticing him still staring at you from the corner of your eyes. "Why did you say that she already knew you were here when we first arrived at the airport?" He asks suddenly.
There weren't any direct correlations of this question to the current situation, but it was unsurprising that he had brought this up. In fact, you have been waiting for him to do so.
"I did tell them." You answer bluntly. "You told me a few days before that you didn't want to." You closed the cap of your face serum and stashed it back inside your small bag, taking yout time with the conversation.
"I changed my mind. I was telling the truth when I said I didn't want to tell them at first, but I figured they should know. In case of emergencies." He was content with the answer, making no more inquiries.
Dinner was quick and quiet. You helped cut the marble cake Rhaenyra had made into small square shapes before its passed around to the whole table after prayers were spoken together.
There were no leftovers of it or the lasagna by the time it was over. You could tell that the older woman was overjoyed. She was someone who put all of her love and effort into everything that she does for her family, and watching her children appreciate the hard work of a mess she made in the kitchen must've felt rewarding.
You helped her with the dishes until everyone else except Jace had left. She argued against it at first, insisting that you were a guest and shouldn't have to do anything. But you refused to leave until the kitchen was clean, so she had you sweep crumbs and pieces out of the carpet while Jace was to take out the trash.
"It's good to have another woman here." She said to you as she stacks up the dry plates back to the shelves.
Throwing out the collected trash into the dustbin, you offered her a small laugh. "I'm glad you feel so."
You went up first after the cleaning was done, leaving Jacaerys with his mother, discussing the Christmas tree arrangements.
The medium sized plastic tree they had ordered last week finally arrived, and it was up to him to fix it up on their livingroom by the end of today.
You considered your gift for his family that you had handmade a few days before you flew here. It would've been easier to buy something, but buying them all an individual gift would be costly, and Jacaerys himself have warned you against that, deeming it unnecessary.
And so your ivory and indigo themed painting of Daisies and Forget Me Not's would be enough.
It was an image that you had longed to paint for a long time, two contrasting coloured flowers tangled together. But with all the assignments and homework that your degree was already requesting of you, there hadn't be any time for you to make it up until the week before you an Jace left.
It wasn't your best work, but it was your favourite. The subtlety that tied together on the canvas satisfied you.
Jace came up shortly after you had. Mumbling something about the decorations looking shitty. Ignoring the fact that you were reading on the bed, jumped on it suddenly, making you bounce up. "Hello?" You snapped, waving your book.
He raised his brows innocently, laying down on the pillows. "All you do is read and paint." He whined. "I like reading and painting."
He poked your right thigh with his toes making you pause reading to slap his feet as a warning. "Get a hobby." You could feel his eye roll from behind you. "Loving you is my hobby."
You kept your eyes on the book as you responded, "how lifeless you must be." Your book is snatched from your hand right after your sentence is finished. "Give it back you gorilla." You twist yourself towards him, trying to reach for the book as he held it up over your head.
"No, this thing has taken over my place as the center of your attention." You let out a loud hah! Pushing him down against the bed and pried the book from his cold hands as he kept his grip on it.
"Bold of you to assume you were ever the center of my attention." He gasped and you took the opportunity to grab the book while his hand loosens.
"How can I not be the center of your attention? Look at me." He spoke seriously.
The book was safely placed by your side, but now he's grabbing you over him instead. "You know I only agreed to date you just in case I'd need to apply for a green card." You gritted out as he squeezes your face against his cheek. Jacaerys' facade of being offended broke and he threw his head back in a boisterous laugh, letting you slip away from him
Shoving him strongly while he's still choking on laughter, he fell off the bed with an oof and landed face down, drawing out a laugh from you instead.
Pulling himself back up, he squints his eyes and glared at you. "You're so boring."
What he views as boring is your kind of fun and that was just how it is. "What do you want us to do instead? Have a slumber party?" He tilt his face, genuine considering it. You cut him off before he could agree. "No- We're not doing that, because I know your definition of slumber party."
"I thought you liked my definition of a slumber party." He asks, laying his head on your lap and letting you get your few pages in for the night. "We're at your parent's house, I don't think they'd like your definition of a slumber party." He hummed and said nothing else, closing his eyes as he stays against your thighs.
You suspected it was either the white wine or the sugar rush of the three squares if marble cake that he had tonight that was making him slightly more hyper. Whatever it was, it's refraining him from being able to just sit his ass down. You once asked him if he had ADHD during your first month of dating, he vaguely answers 'probably' and started talking about something else right after.
Speedreading the last 3 pages of the chapter you're in, you thought he had fallen asleep until he turned around so he would face up to you. "Do you want to go see the Christmas lights?"
You barely heard what he said at first, trying to finish reading the last sentence of the page. "Huh?" He repeated what he said again, waiting for you to close your book and meet his eyes.
When you finally do, you looked down at him with skepticism. "Right now?" He nodded. It was around 8.30, not that late, but also pretty early. You tossed and turned the suggestion in your head until you finally just shrugged at him. "Are they really that pretty?"
"This street is full of mansions wrapped with gigantic traffic lights coloured decorations. Pretty sure the Millers have a gigantic Elf statue outside their gate." You blinked in surprise. "That's...festive."
He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, rich people stuff."
You'd counter back that he was rich too, but there aren't any weird Santa statues in this house yet, so you say nothing. "We don't have to see the ones around this neighbourhood, I know the street stalls are gonna be lit up all around tonight, We could drive around, grab a burger or something."
You were still full from the lasagna, but a burger sounded appealing. You had grown up around street foods and cheap oily burgers and fries from stalls by your house. The taste was always better than whatever clean expensive food you've ever had in your life. You were eager to get out of this place suddenly.
"Okay, sure. Let me finish one more chapter and we can go." Jacaerys cheered, fist bumping the air before he rolled off of you to go change into something thicker.
It ended up being an hour later when you were finally done with the book, managing to convince your dressed up boyfriend on his reindeer sweater that it's much too early still.
To make up for your lack of priority for the time, you were punished to wear a matching red sweater like his. Putting it on with a grumble and frown, he had no idea that you secretly liked the sweater but would rather die than confess it aloud.
You let him get downstairs first to inform his mother of your plans. He was already starting the car engine when you got down, his parents and young Joffrey were all settled on the couch, watching Bluey.
Rhaenyra smiled as you walked by. You waved at her as you're about to walk out and hear her call out to her son. "Be back before 11, or I'll lock you both out!"
"Yeah, yeah." Jace yelled back and closes the door.
You hopped on the passenger seat of his Range Rover with ease and put on the seatbelt while he starts to reverse the car out of parking.
"So, where first?" You ask.
"We could start with stalking our neighbour's houses and then go on a drive down the street- or, we could go down the street first and then stalk our neighbours." You don't miss the way he referred to his neighbours as ours. "I think we should stalk the weird elf dude first, we'll probably be starving again by the time that's done, and then we can go straight to the shops and get a burger."
"Oh wow, you had this all planned out didn't you?" He sounded amused.
"Well, better safe than sorry." He wore a puzzled expression at your words but did not ask for clarification.
The house with the 5'4 elf wasn't that far away from his, and true his words were, the elf did exist by the large gates.
It had a green pointy hat on and wore a red vest with blue buttons.
"The Italian flag?" You whispered out in confusion, watching through the binoculars Jace had stolen from his younger brother. "I think...that's the Christmas colours, not the Italian flag." He whispered back, taking the binoculars from you.
"Oh right, of course." This had to be the first and last time you said something that stupid around him. You had a reputation to keep of being the smart one
What's more terrifying than the large demonic eyes of the elf staring at you was how there were also multiple tiny elves surrounding the big one, like little elf babies with adult elf faces. They crowded around the feet of the big elf, building what seemed like an elf shrine.
"It's like a cult." Jacaerys spoke after a while. You thought the exact same thing.
"Like little cultish elves worshipping their elf messiah." Jace lowered the binocular and snapped his neck towards you. "You think this is legal?"
You frowned at him. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"I don't know, i mean it's a bit disturbing isn't it, like, doesn't this count as property damage or something, or least neighbourhood disturbance."
"The only authority figure I could imagine would have a problem with this is Santa Claus for illegal use of elves, besides that, I don't think a statue of Elf on the shelf would count as a distubance at all." He looked uncomfortable at your explanation, and only then did it click in your head.
"Jace, are you scared of the 5'4 static Elf?"
His silence and slow reaction was answer enough. You gasped in realization. "You are!"
"I'm not fucking scared of the Elf." He denied strongly as you leaned against the locked car door in shock. "I'm just...disturbed. It's almost the same height as me."
"You can't blame the elf for your growth problems." He glared at you and started the car on reverse. "That's the worst thing you've ever said to me, worse than the time you compared me to the hunchback of Notre Dame."
You burst out a giggle at the random memory. "Oh my god, the hunchback of Notre Dame!" You recalled the nickname joyfully. "Well, it made you fix your posture. Also you called me Baymax last week, so it cancels out.
Jace drives the car out of the neighbourhood, waving at the security guard who stood by the post to open the gate. Making a turn on his right, he heads straight for the streetshops.
"You called yourself Baymax, I just corrected you." He defends himself.
It took longer than usual to get there, considering that so many other people there had the same idea as them. Jace had to turn on the heater when halfway near the destination, snow began to fall down from lonely starless sky.
It was microscopic and beautiful. You had wanted to reach yout hand out through the window and grabbed one of the flakes on the palm of your hands, but you refrained from doing it
In the back of your head, you can hear the cynical voice of your mother calling your childlike awe a sign of immaturity.
People like you who thinks life is all about dreams and art and poetry are the kind of people who ends up in the street once your hopes have failed you.
You let yourself enjoy the scenery before Jace finally parks the car bynthe side of the road. He helps you get off the ride and locked it securely before intertwining your hands together and heading to the burger stall that's a block away from where you two stood.
"The traffic's gonna be crazy tomorrow." He mutters under his breath, looking up as the snowflakes continue to fall down. "Because of the snow?" You ask anyways, despite knowing the answer.
"That, and because people are going to head back home or wherever they came from for Christmas day." Ah yes, of course.
The holiday that you came here for.
"Well I can't imagine the traffic on the day after Christmas would be any more pleasing." He nods in agreement, scrunching up his nose in displease.
Thank god for their first class flight.
The burger order took less than 5 minutes. You sat down next to him by the door of a closed pawnshop as you ate it all up. The flavor of red chilli sauce and mayo filled you mouth, it felt like a reminiscent of an old memory.
You finished it faster than Jacaerys and stood up to walk over past the streetlamp to take a closer look at the glorious crescent moon that stared back at you from above.
Lifting both your hands up, you use them to cover the blurry glow of the lamp from your sides to let yourself see the moon better. You weren't sure how long you had been standing there just staring at it, but it didn't matter because even after years of knowing the exist of the moon, it's beauty never fail to leave you in awe every time you see it
"I don't think I've ever seen anyone this excited to see the moon." You hear your boyfriend tease from behind you. He must have already finished his burger. "Oh you haven't seen me with the stars yet.".
You could feel him smiling from behind as he places a hand on your shoulder. "Not much of them tonight." He noted. "Yeah, it's like they're all in hiding."
Letting your heart whisper out one last wish on the stunning moon, you turned back towards Jacaerys with pursed lips and raised brows. "Well, where are we going next?" He smiles back. "I think the bookstore up front is doing 20% off."
---
Jacaerys Strong is scared of a lot of thing. He's scared of learning new stuff. He is scared of heights and pests and gigantic sized elfs.
But his biggest fear these past few months is accidentally saying the wrong thing at the wrong time around you.
He realized very early on that when it came to being in a relationship with you, patience was a major key that was necessary. And just because he had succeeded in waiting long enough for you to finally unlock that door, it didn't mean that there were no more locks in the future.
But sometimes he's not sure which room he is in and he can't tell which key is for which. It's not that you're overly complicated, just more confusing than some. There were many times where he felt inclined to listening and studying the way you act instead of tryong to pry details out of you.
Pressuring you into opening up or trying to make whatever you two have go faster would be a recipe for disaster.
There was a discount indeed when you both got to the bookstore. Despite his reputation of being more muscles than brains, Jacaerys liked reading. He wasn't exactly an avid reader before he met you, but he enjoyed reading whatever you recommended him to so that the both of you could talk about it together afterwards.
You spent some time on the Young Adult shelf before moving onto the Classics and New Adult sections while your boyfriend strayed away to the other shelves but still remained close to you. And after 20 minutes of searching about, you finally picked up a copy of The Essex Serpent while Jace bought himself The Crucible.
"I didn't take you for a play kind of guy." You commented as you walk out the store. "I've read a few of them this year actually." He admits as the two of you make way to his car. "Really?" You sounded astonished, he couldn't blame you.
"Yeah, I actually had to read All's well that end's well and Hamlet for my lit class, but i liked them so I decided to read Macbeth too just for fun."
"You can understand Shakespeare?" You ask with a frown. He makes a face at your words. "I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not."
"I'm not. I tried Romeo and Juliet in like 11th grade, couldn't understand shit." You explained.
You liked reading and you liked literature, but you weren't good at understanding old english writing. Growing up, it felt like you weren't allowed to indulge in two kinds of hobbies that leaned more towards the artistic side of education. Your mother has always regarded your passion for the arts as a waste of times. I've never met an artists that didn't die suffering. She had told you when you were 13 years old after she had thrown out all of your drawing books because you were getting below B+ on your mathematic and science subjects.
"Did your school not have a literature class?" You shook your head no. "We had normal English for like, grammar, vocabulary, and essays. But we were never taught to read the classics or poetry like a lot of the other public schools."
Jacaerys was a private school boy, so of course his classes were much more detailed and well organized compared to the ones held in public schools.
"That sounds boring." It was boring, when you finally entered college and was able to attend literature class as an elective subject, you found that your passion for the language still burned bright even after years.
The next half an hour was spent driving down the road and looking at the fairy lights hung from streetlamp to streetlamp. A lot of the shops had plastic made snowmans guarding the door of the place.
More snow began heavily filling up the ground, it was getting the people around the place even more excited. You could see parents with their children, and teenagers with their friends running around trying to catch the snowflakes and bending down to investigate the ones that have fallen.
If it weren't for the blistering cold, you'd probably get off the vechicle to join them.
An old toyshop by the end of the road even had these stunning little rudolph the red nosed reindeer figures staring out from inside the shop. Jace suggested going in to check the place out, but you were getting comfortable in your seat, just enjoying the view from inside.
Clenching your toes tightly in an attempt to warm them up, the fuzzy pair of socks you had on were no help. "I think we should just stay inside, used enough money for today."
"Broken enough stuff too." He responds in a joking manner as he pulls over in a singular parking lot behind an empty building.
You feel a something snap in your head as you turned to him. "Are you still mad about that?" He wore a puzzled expression at the question but still kept his eyes on his front despite the car already being parked. "I'm not mad at you, I was just joking." He responds in a weary intonation.
"You don't have to lie to make me feel better." You said calmly. Sometimes people lie as not to offend the other person, but you wanted him to know that he could be honest with you on how be feels. "I know you were at least a little upset, that's why you wouldn't speak to me when we got home."
He turns off the front lights of the car and the engine, and then pulled his seat back slightly, getting more comfortable. When he finally looks at you, it was the kind of look that you have ling deciphered as a stare of commiseration. The kind that you give to starving stray dogs outside your door.
"Don't look at me like that, don't be patronizing." You warned him, leaning your back on the car door. "I'm not patronizing you, I didn't even say anything."
"You're looking at me like you feel bad, don't fucking feel bad. If you're angry at me, then tell me you're angry at me. I'm not a child, I can take it." He opened his mouth to argue against that but closed it just as fast as he opened them.
Glancing to his side like he's searching fir some sort of support, he meets your eyes again after a second, and spoke with much more confidence; "I'm not mad at you, I never was." You fold your arms together, shaking your head.
"Then why were you so silent on the way back- and don't say it's nothing, I know the difference between comfortable silence and awkward silence." He waves his arms in resignation and stutters out as he struggles to really think of a good response.
"Honestly?" You nod once. "I-I just didn't know, how to speak to you."
"What does that mean?" You pushed him to elaborate. "I mean, it's just that in certain times- certain situations, you can get so...vulnerable. Like you're seconds away from breaking. And in times like those, I'm just not sure how to approach or comfort you.
-I mean god knows I was never good with comforting people, but when you get so frustrated and upset, I'm just scared that if I say the wrong things or ask the wrong questions, I'll accidentally hurt you more and push you away from me further."
The pity in his eyes were gone, replaced with worry instead. You take in every words he says with a sharp piercing in your heart. "Oh."
A part of you is relieved to know that he was never really angry. Another part of you despises him for viewing you as something so fragile and pathetic. And then there is a third part of you from the inside, who knew that he was right. You had been compared to a ticking time bomb before, it was not new information.
"I'm sorry I made you think I was mad." He spoke again after a moment of silence. Your eyes strayed from his face to your lap, unable to meet his gaze.
He watches the way your face scrunces up in a thoughtful manner and gently places a hand on your thigh hesitantly. "I don't mean it in a bad way, I'm just, not that good with words sometimes."
Your face is relaxed as you look back up again, acceptant to the things he had said. "I get what you mean." You told him, the aggressiveness from before already melting back into passivity. "I'm sorry too, I know I can be a lot."
His free hand moved to caress the right side of your cheek. "You're not, we're both juat doing what we know as best as we can." You nodded and offered him a half smile.
He pulls you into a hug, the seating arrangement making it a bit hard, but the two of you pulled through. "My mom's angry I'm here." You mumbled into his chest.
Jacaerys' brows knitted together. "Why? She doesn't like me or something?" Be feels you shake your head no. "She doesn't even know you. She just thinks every decision I make is a bad one." He didn't know what to say to that.
He's never met your family before, but it was obvious that you were raised in a very different environment than he was.
He also understood that you've always had a certain way dealing with negative things in your life, a certain perspective that makes your choices understandable.
"Did she want you to come home?" You answered no. "She doesn't care if I come home or not, and yet for some reason she's upset that I chose to be here instead of going back home."
"She sounds like a bitch, I'm gonna be honest." You snorted out a laugh as you pulled away before he could regret his words. "She is."
"So, what are you going to do?" You shrugged with a sigh. "Nothing. That's what I always do." You've given up trying to defend yourself years ago. Arguing with your mother never ends well because she doesn't argue to understand, she argues to win. "Some people are worth fighting for, but not everyone is worth fighting with."
He says nothing, staring at you from his seat. You wanted to ask him if he understood what you mean, if he understood that the person you mentioned worth fighting for was him, but just not against your mother. But you were already so sick and tired of talking about her.
She's like some sort of negative charge around you, even the thought of her brings darkness and gloom. "It doesn't matter what she thinks. Because in the end of the day, I'm the one who chose to be here, and I haven't regret it so far." His face broke into a grin at that. "No?"
"No." You repeated surely. "Hmm." He ponders. "Does that mean you're up for a repeat next year?" You raise a brow at that. "This year's one isn't even finished, you're already planning for next year's?"
"Of course."
"How do you know if I'll still be around next year?" You weren't sure what kind of answer you were expecting. It was some sort of test, not just for him, but for you too. "Because I know I love you. And I know you love me too."
"Love is a big word." You noted after considering his confession fairly. In most situations regarding intimacy and vulnerability, you'd always find yourself to be stuck in between the flight or fight mode. But this time, you're sitting down with it and letting yourself indulge the possibilities.
"Are you making fun of my vocabulary or are you questioning my sincerity." Oh. that sentence overall were all big words for him you fought over the grin threatening to appear.
"I'm questioning your assumption that I feel the same way as you."
"Well," he starts, "-you're here with me right now aren't you?" He says it in a matter of factly tone, leaning in towards you, wiggling his brows. "That means nothing." You countered his defense.
"If I kiss you right now, would it mean nothing?" The question was so sudden, you scoffed in face for all the words you're unable to say. "If you kiss me right now, it's because I'm letting you do it."
"Because you love me." You relented and matched his smile. "I love...your mother. And I love your siblings." He eyes you suspiciously. "But what I feel for you surpasses the word love." It was cheesy, it was childish, it was you laying your heart out for him and not being ashamed of it.
"Tomato, tomahto. I call it love, you call it whatever you just did." He muttered back His lips captures yours right after. Your palms finds the sides of his face as he kisses you deeper.
You don't hesitate to climb up from your seat to his own. You feel his fingers gripping your waist as you settle yourself over his lap, pushing the headrest down with a freehand, he lets you take the lead as his fingers moves lower to grip on your hips.
There was nothing soft about the kiss, your tongues danced with his and your teeth clashes together. He made sure that there would be no gap between you two. You gasp out for air once you pull away to slip your sweater off of you. You pull your pants down easily along with your underwear.
"Thank god for tinted windows, huh?" He whispers to you breathily as he discards his own clothes and zip open his trousers.
Your response to that joke is to push him back against the seat to kiss him stronger than before. "Jesusfuckingchrist." He swore against your lips when you begin to ground yourself against his hard on.
He lifte his hips up to meet your grinding, the sensation of your bare pussy against his cock. His fingers squeezes into the skin of your ass, making you whine out loudly. "Fuck- I need you." You moaned deliriously humping on him like your life depends on it.
He pulls his cock out of his boxers fully, pushing it inside your wet squelching cunt. He groaned into your ear as you hid your head by his neck. Your hands held onto his shoulders as your hips jumped up and down on his cock. His grip on you is bruising, but it only added to the pleasure.
You feel the head of his penis hitting your clit harshly every time you sink down fully on it. Jacaerys is grunting out your name repeatedly like prayers in the dark and throwing his head back, lost in the pleasure.
"God- Ah, Jace-" He relishes the noises you make as you squeezes his cock with your warm, tight pussy. "So good." It's driving him insane and he's almost breathless as you continue to pleasure yourself using him to get yourself off. "Fuck, baby." He growled.
You held each other through your orgasm, biting into his neck when you felt relief pass through you. That's gonna leave a mark, you thought. But the night was still bright, snow still falling, and neither of you had much energy left to care.
—
“Jacaerys, we have the heater on, why are you wearing a turtleneck?” Rhaenyra asks as she bring over the big plate of lemon cake to the table. “I like this turtleneck,” was his response to her. A terrible excuse, but she asked nothing more.
You helped her set the table while Jacaerys went over to his brothers’ rooms to wake them up. You could hear him yelling from upstairs, “It’s Christmas morning, get up!”
You refuse to admit to him that te Christmas spirit had gotten into you. Preparing the plates around each seat, you are more excited for the gift unwrapping that’ll be done after breakfast. And the snowball fight. Since when did you become so excited for snowball fights? Since you closed your eyes and tried to imagine this kind of life going on for years and realized that you want nothing less than it.
The kids came running down the stairs, bouncing in every step. “Don’t jump Joffrey, you’ll fall.” Rhaenyra chastised. Lucerys and Joffrey rushed to their seat, Jace following close from behind. “Hurry up, I want to open the presents.” Luc rushed. “You’ll get your presents sooner or later. Now, please eat breakfast slowly, I don’t need you choking on your meals at 9am.” His father’s voice boomed from the hallway as he entered the kitchen.
He had been out all day, buying stocks of eggs and flour for Rhaenyra to use.
“Alright, alright-“ Rhaenyra spoke, sitting down alongside everyone at last. “Who’s gonna say the prayers today? Luc?” The boy immediately shook his head. “I’ll do it.” Jace offered, his mother looked internally grateful. “Alright, go on.”
He takes a deep breath before he holds his fists together and closed his eyes, everyone but you followed through. You watch him begin to thank god for the food on the table and for his family’s good health and fortune before he goes on to thank god for his beautiful girlfriend. Luc mutters out an ‘ew’, which Jacaerys quickly retorts back ‘You just don’t have a girlfriend that’s why you’re jealous.” In the middle of his prayer, earning a warning ‘Jace…’ from his mother.
In the meantime, you were grateful that all of their eyes were closed, so that they wouldn’t be able to see your wide smile and flushed cheeks. I don’t have much faith in god these days, but I’d burn a prayer or two for you, you thought to yourself. And you meant it.
Once he ends his prayers with an Amen, he opens his eyes to connect them with yours first before the silent moment shared was broken by everyone else’s eagerness to eat.
They had not understood the meaning between your shared glances with him. How it was a way for him to tell you that you, just like his family, is his priority. They also don’t know how you had blocked your whole family’s contact list for good. And when you had told him of your action that morning, he looked at you so reassuringly and told you that as long as is he alive, you would never be without a family.
#jacaerys velaryon x reader#house of the dragon#jacaerys velaryon#jace velaryon x reader#house of the dragon x reader#hotd x reader#game of thrones#harry collett
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