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aleskyyy · 7 days

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Second Choice — John Price x Fem!reader

You found out the secret that your husband has been hiding all this time.

Warnings — fem!reader, cheating, second choice reader, reader blame herself, Price is asshole in this fic, angst, angst, ANGST, no happy end, etc.

1,3k words.

Main Masterlist COD Masterlist

You open the car trunk and start taking out your groceries. You try to carry the groceries you bought with both hands and close the trunk door of your car. You don't realize that you have bought this much, considering that today is the day your husband comes back, you are excited to cook a delicious meal for him.

You walk into the house where you pass many of your wedding photos. You smile as you look at them, it's been two years of your marriage and you are so happy living with your husband.

You put your groceries down and start arranging them in the cupboards and fridge. After that you walk around to see if each room in your house is clean or not. You smile as you head towards your husband's study. You are rarely there unless your husband is home.

You check the room and see that it is a bit messy with books on the table. You enter and start tidying up the books. You smile at the picture of your husband when he was young. He looks dashing in his military uniform. You read the writing in the corner of the photo. John Price.

You return to tidying up your husband's desk, you bend down to pick up the book that fell under the desk. As you try to get up, you bump your head on the underside of your husband's desk and soon you hear what sounds like a drawer lock opening. You see an open drawer and check it. Your hand stops for a moment, unsure whether to open it or not.

But you're his wife, there's no way he could have kept anything from you except his confidential work files. Your hand moves to open the drawer, if it was his confidential work file you would return it quickly. But what you get is not a confidential file but a black book with your husband's name on the end.

You laugh softly at the thought of your husband having a diary. You sit on his chair and scrutinize the diary.

"Why is he so cute? I can't imagine how serious he is about writing this," you say to yourself.

You start to open the diary and read it slowly. The first few pages are all about how happy he is to be in the military and the missions he went on. In the middle he starts to describe how he feels about being a captain.

You keep smiling reading your husband's diary. You are so happy to see how happy he is pouring his feelings into every word he writes. You smile even more when you see the date of the diary which turns out to be two years before you got married. Which means four years ago.

Your smile slowly fades as you read what's written there.

I love her, a very new feeling for me. And I will try to get her heart.

You haven't met yet on that date. You open the next page which turns out he wrote after a few months from the last page.

She was so beautiful in that dress, and she smiled so beautifully that night. I'm so glad she agreed to go on a date with me.

This was written seven months before you met. You're turning over another page.

I was so happy to wake up with her in my arms every morning.

Written two months before you and your husband met. You close the diary, afraid to read it. But you have to make sure of something. You take a deep breath and open the diary again.

We've been in a relationship for almost two years, but we both know we can't get married if one of us is still in the military. And neither of us wants to give it up.

You turned over a new page.

I found a girl, I thought she could be the 'someone' that could cover my relationship with her.

You see the date written, one day after your meeting. And in less than a year he said he wanted to marry you because he loved you so much and didn't want to waste too much time because of his job that sometimes took him away for a long time. You hold your chest which feels tight. You try to breathe properly and open the next page.

One year into our marriage, and I still don't feel anything. Sleeping with her only makes me think of my lover at the base.

Tears fall down your husband's diary. You quickly skipped through the pages until you reached the last page.

I felt a little guilty because I lied about being on an important mission. My darling wanted to go to Paris, and with the time off we went there together.

You choke as you feel the tightness in your chest. All this time you've been trying to be a good wife to him, trying to serve him well. It turns out that what he had been imagining was his lover. And right now he is with his woman.

You laugh out loud with tears rolling down your cheeks. You pat your chest so hard hoping that the pain you feel will go away. You sob while patting your chest. Why does it hurt so much? Why did this happen to you? What did you do wrong?

Question after question spins in your head. You try to calm yourself down even though it's hard. The husband you have been proud of, the husband who has been smiling in front of you, who has been hugging you every night. What did you do wrong? What did you do to deserve this?

You get up and walk out of your husband's study. Your gaze is blank with messed up thoughts. You really don't know what you did wrong. Even after being married for two years they keep in touch behind your back. What is wrong with all this? Are you not being a good wife to him?

You walk towards your bedroom and look at the photo that is displayed there. You examine the photo, you study your husband's face clearly. Then you remember the photo in his study. Your husband's smile, it turns out that the smile he has been giving you is different.

How naive you were. You feel the tightness again. You pick up your photos with your husband and throw them all on the floor. You feel a shard of glass that hurts your leg. You scream as you pull your hair. Why does this hurt so much? Why is your chest so tight?

You walk to the living room where your wedding photos are. You throw them on the floor one by one. No wonder John always refused to do a couple portrait with the excuse that there were already too many wedding photos. You sit by the shattered glass on the floor with a blank look. How could someone destroy someone else's life so easily?

You hear the sound of a door opening and footsteps approaching you. You look up and see John who stands staring at you with an unreadable look. You stare at him with a hate filled gaze.

"How was your vacation, John? Was it fun?"

"Sweetheart—"

You raise your hand for him to stop talking. Even hearing his voice makes you want to vomit.

"I know everything. How could you do all this to me, John? What did I do wrong?" you ask through sobs.

You try to get up, John who sees you tries to help. Before he can hold your hand you stop him.

"Don't touch me with your filthy hands."

You walk towards your bedroom with John following, you grab your suitcase and put your belongings in.

"Sweetheart, please let me explain everything. I–I know I was wrong but let me explain everything—"

You laugh at his words. What is there to explain?

"I'll send the divorce papers as soon as possible. Don't worry, I won't stand in the way of your love story with her. I think I'm too worthy for someone like you, John."

And you hope he'll feel the way you feel because of him. I hope he feel how hurt it feels.

#captain john price x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x female reader #john price x female reader #captain john price imagine #captain john price #captain john price angst #john price angst #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty

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azrielslightintheshadows · 6 months

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Hello! I hope all is going well for you. Firstly i wanted to say thank you so much for these wonderful fics you have been posting lately. I am so happy i somehow stumbled upon your page and now am able to read so many beautifully written stories.

I was hoping you could write a fic with azriel where him and reader have known each other for a while, but later on when elain come in the picture along her sisters, reader feels left out because azriel isn't there with reader anymore and is spending more time with elain's company and this makes reader feel neglected because she can't voice her feelings for him. Perhaps rhysand or cassian see reader slowly being left out and decide to approach her and reader lets all her feelings out, so they can talk to azriel and azriel fixes everything with the reader...they could end up being mates...upto you. Thank youu❤️❤️

Idiot.

Azriel x f!Reader

Masterlist.

Warnings; angst, swearing.

Hello! Thank you for your kind words. I hope you enjoy it! I can rewrite it if you don't like it!

When you met Azriel you instantly fell in love with him, the darkness that surrounded him never bothered you and when he realized that, he opened up to you and after some years he considered you his best friend. It hurt at first and no matter how much you wanted to tell him about your feelings, you were too scared of ruining your friendship and losing him. So, you ignored the ache in your chest and prayed to the Cauldron that he would fall for you too. You never completely understood why you felt that pull to him, it was like you were hypnotized. His sharp face with those high cheekbones and the strong jawline, those full lips and hazel eyes and not to mention the body that looked like it was carved by the Mother herself to tempt the world. He was made from sin and the most dark and unholy dreams, his huge membranous wings adding to that terrifying aura around him. But what could bring everyone on their knees was his personality; If you managed to get past those adamant walls he has built around him you would be mesmerized by him, his personality is a light that pushes all his darkness away. Only a fool wouldn’t be enchanted by him, and you sure as hell aren’t a fool.

So now that the other two Archeron sisters burst into your life and the middle one showed interest in Azriel every ounce of patience you had dissolved. Azriel would wake up, find Elain, spend his day with her, have dinner with everyone and then disappear into his room. Not even a second spent on you, his alleged best friend.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You were having breakfast with Cassian and Nesta in the house of wind when Azriel walked into the dining room.

“G’morning” Cassian mumbled as he chewed.

Azriel nodded and headed to the balcony.

“Az could you come pick me up around 4, I want to go to the bookstore.” You asked with a hopeful smile.

“I don’t think so, ask Cassian or Rhys” he replied without even looking at you and flared his wings, shooting up.

You turned your gaze to your plate and blinked the tears away.

“I can take you there” Cassian’s voice was soft, and his big palm rested on top of your own.

“It’s okay, excuse me” you whispered and got up leaving the room as quickly as you could.

“He’s such an idiot” Nesta said and continued eating.

Cassian was staring at the wall across him, his hand scratching his chin as he was lost deep in thought.

“I have to go” he said suddenly and got up. Nesta only nodded.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“I’m telling you Rhys he is completely ignoring her. She looked so broken today” Cassian exclaimed and hit the desk with his hand.

Rhysand was staring at him, trying to remember the last time he had seen you and Azriel together.

“I believe you Cass, I will watch them today during dinner and if he is ignoring her, we will talk to him together.” He replied and waved a dismissive hand at him.

Cassian left the office; he passed one of the big windows and glanced outside. Azriel and Elain were standing in the garden, Elain was explaining something as she pointed to some flowers. The warlord shook his head and left; he knew that if he stayed longer, he would snap.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Everyone gathered in the dining room of the house of wind for dinner, Cassian and Rhys sharing a look and taking their seats. You entered a few minutes later and glanced around the table, your usual seat next to Azriel was taken by Elain, the only empty seat was between Cassian and Mor. “Az, do you want to change seats with me?” Cassian asked the moment you sat. Azriel furrowed his eyebrows.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because you and y/n usually sit next to each other.” Cassian shrugged.

“Oh, no its okay” Azriel replied.

You let a shaky breath and picked your fork. Rhysand sighed and shook his head.

You didn’t know what happened during dinner, you were too busy keeping the tears back and thinking everything that was going on with Azriel. When everyone was done with their food, they moved to the living room with a bottle of wine. You tiptoed to your bedroom knowing that no one would notice and laid on your bed, letting the tears and sobs escape your body.

Cassian and Rhysand noticed though and they followed you. They stood in front of your door, their hearts breaking with every sob you let. Cassian opened the door, and they walked inside.

You felt the bed dipping.

“Az?” you asked as you turned to look.

Cassian’s expression turned from sad to angry. “That fucking idiot.” he growled.

“Y/n what’s going on?” Rhysand asked.

You were so tired of keeping all those feelings hidden, you couldn’t take it anymore, so you told them everything. How you instantly fell in love with Azriel, how you kept your feelings hidden in fear of losing him and how he broke your heart by spending all his time with Elain.

The two males frowned as you spoke.

“He is such an idiot, I told him to confess his feelings to you. He never listens” Cassian exclaimed and got up.

“Don’t worry y/n we will handle this.” Rhysand said and they both hurried off.

You were gaping at the door. Feelings? Confess? What? You were so confused that your brain felt like it would explode.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Cassian marched into the living room, grabbing Azriel by the collar of his shirt and dragging him outside. The shadowsinger didn’t fight his brother, he knew that Cassian could be a brute when he needed something. What he didn’t expect though was the angry look on Rhysand’s face when they reached the balcony. “What the fuck is going on?” Azriel shouted as he fixed his collar.

“You are a fucking idiot that’s what’s going on” Cassian growled. “Rhys?” Azriel asked ignoring the warlord.

“You’ve been ignoring y/n from the moment Elain stepped into our court. When was the last time you spent time with her?” Rhysand asked.

“I’ve been helping Elain adjust like you asked me to” Azriel exclaimed.

“Elain is fine for a while now.” Cassian said.

“She wants to hang out with me, she feels safe when I’m there” the shadowsinger explained.

“She wants to hang out with you because she likes you” Rhysand snorted. “That’s not the point of this conversation” Cassian growled. “Y/n is in her room crying her heart out right now because she is completely in love with you.”

“What?” Azriel’s eyes were wide as he turned his gaze to Rhysand. The High Lord nodded and Azriel spun around and sprinted off.

“Finally” Cassian screamed.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Your door burst open and Azriel stumbled inside, his eyes wide as he scanned your room.

“Angel please don’t cry” he breathed when he saw your face and approached you.

You couldn’t speak, you just stared at him as he knelt in front of you cupping your face.

“I’m so so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you angel. Rhys ordered me to help Elain adjust and then I kept spending time with her because I thought she needed me. I didn’t realize I was neglecting you, Cauldron I’m such an idiot.” He sighed. “Cassian said that you have feelings for me, is it true?”

You gulped and nodded.

“Even after all of this?” he asked.

“Yes” you whispered.

“Good. Because I’ve been in love with you from the moment I saw you for the first time. I feared losing you if I told you. I couldn’t believe that a sweet creature like you could love a monster like me.”

“Don’t say that! Please… you’re not a monster Az” you exclaimed.

“I kill faeries for a living”.

“You protect your court and family, and those faeries that you kill are not innocent. If someone can’t understand that then they are stupid.”

“My sweet angel….” Azriel stopped talking and furrowed his eyebrows.

“What?” you asked him. “Do you feel that too?” his hand went on his chest.

You felt it too, like a string unwrapping and then it snapped making both of you gasp and lean back.

“My sweet mate” Azriel whispered and smiled. You couldn’t believe it, your heart skipped way too many beats.

“My mate” you said, and tears filled your eyes.

“Do you forgive me?” Azriel asked.

“Yes. But you will stay away from her at least until I get used to the bond” “I will” he nodded “I love you my beautiful mate” “I love you Az” you smiled and he kissed you.

Requests are open but delayed!

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the-cookie-of-doom · 2 months

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Cookie's Fic Recs

I feel like no one really does rec lists anymore! But last night I was feeling and sappy and mushy and decide to put together my own little list of fics I love. These are in no particular order, and they don't follow any real theme/tropes other than I dearly love them all, and you should definitely give them a read!

*I tried to tag everyone I could find a blog for, but if I missed anyone, please let me know I can tag them!

The Instinctual Gravitation Towards Warmth by kimkhimhant (@kimkhimhant)

This is my comfort fic. No joke, this is what I read when I want to die. It’s angsty as all hell, it’s made me cry, but it is so indescribably good. Kim is an addict going through recovery, finding love and family along the way. He hits rock bottom—arguably multiple times—but always claws his way back, always with the support of the people that love him. It’s such a beautifully written and cathartic story, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve read it. But it’s almost certainly the fic I’ve reread the most.

Error in the Code by BlackwaterVial (@blackwatervial)

Sneaking this VegasPete onto my otherwise KimChay list bc it altered me. I think most people already know what it is, but jic: it’s a sci-fi/cyberpunk/android AU, and it’s one of the best things I’ve ever read. I go feral for androids and this fic delivers in all the best ways. The world building alone makes me weep. But all of the characters interactions, the way we get such an in depth feel for everyone despite the limited PoV, and the most satisfying take I’ve seen on android artificial intelligence ever—I can’t recommend this story enough.

Idiots & Idioms by snickerdoodlles (@snickerdoodlles)

This one is actually a series, and it's genuinely so much fun to read. For the most part it's a SocMed fic with Chay taking over Wik's twitter and making it everyone's problem, and it's fkn hysterical. This one is actually a series, and it's genuinely so much fun to read. For the most part it's a SocMed fic with Chay taking over Wik's twitter and making it everyone's problem, and it's fkn hysterical.

Silver for Truth by snickerdoodlles (@snickerdoodlles)

This fic is the Kim & Khun vs. Tawan team-up we deserve. Kim is a ruthless, demented bitch, that's too cool to beat Tawan to death bc what if he messes up his wrists right before a show?? Big, get 'im. Kim is the feral-est cat ever, leaving behind evidence and bodies for Kinn bc saying "hey bro, I still love you/look out for you" is too much emotion for him. The fic is also from Tawan's PoV which also makes it the funniest thing ever, for reason that I won't spoil <3

The Wiked Lies We Live by shubaka (@shubaka)

Oh my god, this fic. Canon divergence (technically??) where most things happen as normal... except KimChay have been bodyswaped at the start of it. The little twists Shu puts on the events of canon, given it isn't the correct characters experiencing them (such as Big being very confused about why Kim is suddenly nice to him??) are so much fun.

A Portrait of Affection by froginthesun (@froginthesun)

Kim is an artist and Chay is the part time nude model he hires. ‘Nuff said right there, except no it isn’t, this fic is beautiful. Kim’s frustration with his craft is palpable, and so is the way he rediscovers his passion through Chay. The writing is wonderfully detailed, every chapter felt like walking through a museum. And tension slowly building between them—unf.

Sunshine in My Closet by moneskin

This is an A/B/O AU that is so satisfying to read. Typical hilarious boundary violations (Chay stealing Kim’s clothes, a bewildered Kim handing over a freshly worn outfit, having barely any idea who this strange kid is) characteristic of the AU, but then the story also delves deeper into more serious topics. Chay has a history of abuse from a past alpha that he has to learn how to navigate with Kim, who is incredibly patient and works hard to make Chay feel safe and loved. Overall a very sweet and comforting read. Seriously, this fic makes me melt.

Your Body Feels Like Disrespect by Blue_Jay (@bluejayfiction)

This fic is so funny because it begins with Kim blurting out, in the middle of an Important Mafia MeetingTM, that he and Chay aren’t having sex, and then wanting to die about it. Followed by Kim’s family trying very hard to both support and terrorize him. It’s hilarious, sexy, and one of my favorite reads when I need a pick me up. (Bless Kinn’s determination to be a Good and Supportive Brother, and Vegas for being the Worst Person Ever.)

In Silent Screams (In Wildest Dreams) by BelladonnaWyck and StratsWrites

This is definitely a darker fic. There’s DubCon, Kim is generally Sketchy, but it’s very hot. And I love explorations of his character where he isn’t just outwardly psychotic and cruel. This fic shows the kind of dark that I think Kim could have been, if you just tilted his character a little to the left. He still seems very much the way he is in canon, but he’s also… a lot more calculating and cold, sometimes. I love it.

Forget-me-always by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

I cannot sing the praises of this fic enough. I think it’s probably tied for IGTW for my most-read fics. I’ve probably read this one more often in reality, but only bc it’s shorter. But oh my god, does it hurt. Kim gets struck with amnesia post-break up, does a little light stalking, and gets Chay to help him learn/remember who he is. In the process realizes that wow his life sucks, and there’s no way he wants to go back to it. Especially if he’s the kind of person that hurt Chay. He would rather start over. (Ofc, he doesn’t get to). This fic makes me cry, it’s so good

Coffeehouse Play by AirgodSLV

This is a canon divergence AU that I adore. The KimChay characterization is on point. I love that despite everything going on around them, they also get to be two boys that hang out and play videogames and try to shove each other off the couch while Porsche makes dinner. Given the age difference it’s so easy to make Kim Older and MatureTM, but he’s still a kid, and this story never once forgets that. It felt so honest and true to his character that Kim does have a lot of plans, and he’s very smart, but he’s also still so young, and sometimes shit just goes wrong.

Want and Need by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

God, this fic. T h i s f i c. Post-canon Chay goes to therapy and becomes a camboy (in that order) and it’s delicious. Watching the steady breakdown of his and Porsche’s relationship is so satisfying. Everything one of them does to make things worse feels awful, but is so in character that it’s hard to be mad at them for their decisions. Kim readily giving up control if it means he can be with Chay, and Chay getting a crash course in how to dom. All of it is just. So good. This is such a good fic

Your Look, Through This Lens by WildelyDawn (@wildelydawn)

AU where Chay becomes Kim’s photographer. This fic emotionally hobbled me. Just a fair warning. You will cry. But that said, the ending isn’t nearly as sad as the tags would have you believe! At least in my opinion. I think it’s fairly open/hopeful, and beautiful either way. I love the way this fic shows how Kim balances being Wik while also being part of the mafia. And I love how temperamental he is; always hot and cold, while remaining pretty even as far as how he expresses himself. Always very aloof/detached, just out of reach, with Chay never really sure where he stands/what Kim wants. But at the same time the fic happens just before Kim gets a big break, and the subtle ways he shows his excitement and nerves as things start coming together—it’s wonderful.

Love’s a Two-Way Dream by giraffeter (@giraffeter)

This fic is dark. Kim atticwife’s Chay and it’s not a good time. But!! It’s not just dark for the sake of it; Kim is a genuine sociopath, yes, but it unfolds slowly. You get a sense of creeping dread as he does things that are just a little bit off, until finally the Big Bad Thing happens. At first he seems normal, playing the part of good and respectful boyfriend. But it just goes downhill from there, and I love every word of it. The ending especially is very satisfying.

In the Dark of the Night by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

Not to recc everything Bard writes, but… This is a rape recovery fic that I feel handles the subject matter incredibly well. There’s no gratuitous rape scenes, and even with the flashbacks, I don’t remember any of them being incredibly detailed. I think Bard handled the fic with incredible respect and grace. This is another one that’ll make you cry. The way Chay handles his past trauma while trying to have a relationship with Kim is so painfully real. And so is the way Kim wants to help him, but doesn’t really know how. But they figure it out together, and it’s amazing. (Also Kim acquires a stabby child in the form of an OC that I adore.) I just love the path Chay's recovery takes in this fic, it's so visceral and relatable. It's all around just. So good. I love this fic for the same reason I love IGTW and it's because both fics show an excellent depiction of recovery.

Chains and Crowns, A Flower Can Both Make by Sweet_William (@sweet-william-writes)

Incredibly Regency AU. Historical AUs are some of my all time favorites, and this is everything I didn’t know I needed. Sweet_William captures the essence of an Austen-esque style while still making this feel like the KinnPorsche characters. Chay is wonderfully feisty, Kim is delightfully complex, and the various family interactions always had me cackling.

Simple Little Secrets by CorvusCloudburst (@cloudburst-ink)

Chay sees the future when he touches people. Kim thinks he’s either insane, a spy, or a conman. Oh, and Chay’s visions of Kim? Always sex-related. The shenanigans are endless. What more do you need?? They’re both crazy4crazy and it’s my favorite thing ever. Their banter is snappy and fun, the writing is sexy, and it never once gave me second-hand embarrassment despite Chay’s horrible situations.

#cookie speaks #kimchay #kinnporche the series #fic rec #anyway i love all of you #I hope this makes people's days a lil brighter #<3<3<3

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shadesofecclescakes · 2 months

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Are you a big fanfic reader? What have you read lately and what's been your favourite fic so far?

Oh mannnnnnnnn. Why don't you ask me to pick a favourite child while you're at it???

Just kidding. I don't have kids. But I assume having to pick a favourite would be hard if I did.

So, am I a big fanfic reader? YES. And what haven't I read lately? We are lucky enough to have so many talented writers in this fandom that it's possible to subscribe to numerous multi-chapter fics to the point where you're just constantly getting update emails. Which I do. It's great. It gives me something to do at work aside from, y'know, work.

*Me at work being smug about being paid to read porn* (Also I just wanted to look at this gif)

So what is currently on my endless update list? Coming up after the cut!

I am an absolute whore for human AU, so if you like that then you will probably like:

The Cure for a Broken Heart by @rofell

a medical student AU based in the Canadian medical system (I'm a Canadian so I was pretty excited about that). It manages to tackle the continued systemic discrimination of Indigenous people in our medical system (and in general), homophobia and the ensuing trauma from those things all while also being informative, funny, sweet, romantic and hot af. Like. It's so good.

Free by @maaikeatthefullmoon

This is another one with with a heavy topic that also does a great job of making sure to break it up with some excellent fluff, hurt/comfort and humorous moments. And it's handled with the sensitivity and thoughtfulness necessary to write something that takes place in a mental health ward and deals with some intense situations. Definitely make sure to read those author notes before diving in. They lay it out very thoroughly.

The Sincere Way by @tsyvia48

A martial arts AU. Crowley is a karate sensei and Aziraphale is his student. Slow burn that keeps you on the edge. The screams I have scrumt at my screen over this one. Plus you learn a lot about karate (but it never gets boring or over-explainey. Excellently balanced) which is pretty cool. Mostly light (there is some angst. This is the Good Omens fandom. I think we are all sad, wet chihuahuas at heart). Funny and sweet.

Terminus by @emotional-support-demon-crowley

Plus One by @caedmonfaith

Astronaut AU. Aziraphale is an astronaut who meets his mission controller, Crowley, over the comms system when he finds himself in need of assistance.

Super cool concept and really well-done in my opinion. Like, I don't do any space or physics-related work (ok I straight-up failed math 9) but I find it entirely believable. And it's well-written which is the entire point. Cute, funny slow burn with an intriguing mystery happening in the background.

Aziraphale has family money but a shitty family (except for Muriel! Never Muriel!) and his shitty brother Gabriel is getting married to shitty Michael, an Earl's daughter.

Aziraphale's family disproves of his entire life pretty much and he has been lying to them about having a boyfriend. Now they are expecting him to bring said boyfriend to the wedding. His famous footballer friend sets him up with their mechanic, Crowley.

It starts as a slow-burn but becomes a hilarious, smutty romp that just gets more and more insane. The chapter titles alone have made me cackle out loud.

Some older human AUs I'm a huge fan of include Old Vines by @sevdrag. Crowley owns a vineyard and Aziraphale is a wine critic. It is so amazingly written. It makes me think of the author Joanna Harris (Chocolat, The Five Quarters of the Orange) because it's SO beautifully, vividly descriptive that I end up craaaaaving wine. So have a bottle on hand if you're giving this a read.

Also the love story in this. My god. I devoured it. The story and the (many bottles of) wine.

There is also Loosely Ballroom by marginalia_device and mortifyingideal. It's a Strictly Come Dancing (Dancing with the Stars in North America) AU and it is so. Fucking. Good.

But it comes with a disclaimer. It's unfinished and looks likely to stay that way. But honestly? Still worth it. It's nearly finished (I think) so you have most of the story. And it's just SO good. It's been a while since I read it but it was one of the first human AUs I read and what got me hooked on them.

If you're still with me...nice! Just know that was me holding back and that isn't my entire list by a long shot. If you want more recs, feel free to message me and also share your own!

I just finished Slow Show the actor AU by @mia-ugly and yes please.

Some serious angst, pining and hot hot smut.

There is another long-form multi-chapter actor au I loooved but I can't remember the name for the life of me. Just that the show they were on was basically good omens and that they swapped roles with great success (inspired by the whole Michael thinking Neil wanted him to play Crowley when he wanted Aziraphale thing).

Thanks for the ask! That was really fun!

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #good omens fan fiction #good omens fic rec #good omens fanfic rec #ask

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winnienora14 · 12 days

Text

It’s really not that hard people

Here’s how it goes:

You have the right to your opinions on fanfics just like you have the right to your opinions on anything else in life.

Although you have to remember those fanfics took a lot of work and are free. There is someone with a heart and feelings behind them so for you to bash their writing like I’ve seen some of you do, is extremely disrespectful, even more so if you do it in the form of public humiliation.

I personally don’t like All The Young Dudes but I would never say it’s a bad fan fiction because well, it’s not. It is beautifully written and you can’t argue with that. But also because it’s useless. It would just hurt someone who worked hard and it wouldn’t make me feel any better.

I’ve heard so many ‘’mskingbean89 ruined the fandom’’ and I feel like this is such an insensitive thing to say. That is a lot to put on a single person’s shoulders, even more so when that person wanted the exact opposite. Plus, you don’t know how old she is (although it wouldn’t excuse you even if she was 102).Just imagine how you would have felt if you were like a 15 year old kid and so many people said you ruined their and your own fandom because of something you put your sweat, tears and blood into. She worked really hard to provide PEOPLE with FREE content so it’s just truly cruel to say her writing is horrible. She didn’t write it specifically FOR YOU anyways so if you don’t like it just pass your way.

Another thing…Art is subjective. Just like painting, just like theater, writing is a form of art. So your statements about what fics are bad and what fics aren’t, aren’t worth shit. Ranking fics or calling some bad is nothing but mean.

It’s just about being polite and civil.

LEARN HOW TO LIVE IN A SOCIETY PLEASEEE!

That’s that. Have a good day and let other people do the same!

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seeingivy · 11 months

Text

triple threat

actor!eren x f!reader

you get cast in the role of your dreams

**part of my method acting fic, masterlist here

content: hange + levi being in love, hange pronouns are written as they/she, you and eren embarassing yourself, some good old cheesy childhood dreams

an: welcome to the actor-verse :DDD

The first time you see that speech, it changes your life. You’re six and barely understand why the situation is such a big deal. That Hange Zoe is the first person, the first queer person, ever to receive the triple threat commendation from The Institute.

The Institute runs the industry. From the biggest movies to theatre plays, they hand out shiny gold awards each year to the best of the best. But the triple threat, it’s unlike any of the other awards. It’s not given out at a set time or pushed out yearly like the others.

It’s at random times - some years, there are three triple threats, and others, there are none. It’s the highest award anyone can hope and dream of winning from the industry.

A triple threat is someone recognized for their work in the big three - singing, dancing, and acting. And each of those things can be taken loosely and mean different things to different actors.

For example, Hange Zoe’s co-star and partner, Levi Ackerman, received a triple threat commendation a few years ago. Acting in a Bond movie - his most famous stunt being a skilled walk on a tightrope, which the Savants considered dancing. And with one cameo in the Phantom of the Opera on an odd night when the actor was sick, he sang for three hours and was he was sold.

He became a triple threat three hours after.

And now, Hange Zoe, one of your favorite actors, did all three in their famous film, La La Land, with the same co-star. A beautifully crafted movie - about the highs and lows of the industry, of chasing a dream, of letting go of love to pursue it.

And here they are - tears streaming down their face as they stand to take the award. When they press a kiss on Levi’s cheek and take the stage, you remember the words solidifying, forming, and taking residence in your chest.

To anyone watching at home, in their living room in their rundown pajamas, this is a sign to never ever give up on your dreams. Because that used to be me, and it can be you too. Never let anyone stop you from becoming the triple threat you are meant to be. To let that fire run wild and true and let people see the real you.

And you decide then and there - that it’s your dream to be a triple threat. To let your fire run wild and true. And most of all, to show people the real you.

July 9th is the most nerve-wracking day in the history of nerve-wracking days. What was supposed to be a regular day at the coffee shop you work at suddenly became one of the most stressful experiences of your life.

WIT Studios, one of the biggest production companies, had sent out a casting call for actors aged 15-18 for a new, multi-season show. And when you accidentally knocked the flyer off the board at your aforementioned silly cafe job, it felt like a sign.

Some part of you, years ago, knocked your dream down. And it was a culmination of things.

That you never really got called back for casting calls. You couldn’t book simple commercials, and agents said you didn’t have that spark.

And as many interviews you could watch of your favorite actors explaining how they got into the roles and connected with characters, the stupid kibble commercials you were trying to book just didn’t do that.

And you sing in the choir at your school and dance in school plays, but that’s hardly a triple threat category. You can’t even get the position to be head of the choir - to delude yourself into thinking you’re triple-threat material is insane.

So you let it go. And many people do because it’s just like every other silly childhood dream. You decided to stick with school, plan on attending college, and work a simple job. Stream the Institute Awards every year, watch your favorite people sob over winning awards, and then secretly go in the bathroom and practice a speech you won’t ever say.

Granted, that’s humiliating, but it’s better than getting kicked down each time. Because casting actors can be rude. And the entire industry is bleak - because there are only so many times that you can get shot down before throwing the towel in, which is very fast for you.

But the flyer seems right. And there’s no harm in trying after all these years. It’s for a real show, an action drama called Attack on Titan. The casting room - it’s down the street from the cafe and you can go right after work.

But now that you’re here, awkwardly fidgeting in the cream chairs, you realize you’ve made the biggest mistake. Because the actors in the room - you know them.

Some of the biggest child actors that have been acting since they were basically toddlers, flipping through the same script as you. Practicing tongue twisters, taking deep breaths.

And you’re a fraud. Because you don’t know the short of hand or how any of this works. And when the red-haired woman calls your name, a dark green clipboard in her hand, you follow her into the room with a deep lump in your throat, it being evidently obvious to you that you were about to humiliate yourself.

It’s a small holding room filled with four people. The red-haired woman and two other men sit at one long table, papers spread across the page. There’s a black camera in the center, glaring right into your line of vision from where you’re sitting.

“It’s a chemistry screening. This is Eren. He’s going to be playing the lead in the show. We’re just looking to fill the female co-star role. Just do the scene the way it feels right to you - there’s no correct way to act in this.”

You nod, switching your chair so you’re facing Eren. And then you take him in. He has short brown hair and almost bored green eyes as he takes a swig of his water bottle, his name scribbled in messy writing over the top. And you can hear the recording camera beep, trying your best to ignore the fact that you’re on camera with him right now, as you take a deep breath.

You reach forward, tapping on his shoulder with your pointer finger. And he looks up, green eyes timidly looking into yours. You give him the most sincere smile you can and introduce yourself.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Eren. Eren Jaeger.”

Eren sticks his hand out to you, his grasp firm, as you both give each other a smile. And then you remember the lines. You stick your hand out, placing it on his shoulder as you squeeze. The action seems to take him off guard, his eyes widening as you start talking.

“We should be getting back.”

You watch the realization spread across his face as he quietly nods, rubbing his hand at the back of his neck. You guess your introduction might have thrown him off, and you should have told him you would start the scene now.

Dear god, you were already messing this up.

“What are we doing here, Y/N?”

You lean back in your chair, pressing your hands to the bridge of your nose, trying to remember the rest of the line.

“You were so deep asleep that you’re only half awake now?”

You watch Eren’s face contort into confusion and feel the embarrassment coursing through your veins. Did you remember the wrong line? Did you-

“I had a really long dream. I can’t remember what it was about or-”

And when you meet his eyes, the embarrassment dies down.

Because Eren’s crying.

There’s a soft tear running down the side of his eye, his lower lip quivering as he looks at you. And you can’t help but do it - you reach forward, pressing your hand to the side of his cheek as you wipe the tear away and ask.

“Eren. Why are you crying?”

You hear a clicking noise, and Eren leans back, wiping the rest of the tear on the back of his hand. You look back at the long table, the three adults scribbling on the papers before them.

Right. You were acting. Eren wasn’t really crying. He was just pretending to cry.

And you totally understand why he was cast as the lead because that crying was so believable that it got even you to take a second.

“We’ve seen enough. Thank you, Y/N. If you are selected, you will receive an email at the address you provided earlier.”

That can't be it.

You give them all an awkward smile as you turn to your right, where Eren’s shuffling through the pages. You tap him on the shoulder again.

“See you later, Eren.”

“Yeah. I think so, Y/N.”

And when he breaks out into a smile, so warm with dimples showing, you can’t help but fully cheese back. And when you breeze out of the hallway, you pretend the entire thing never happened because there’s no way you’ll ever book that role, with an on-demand actor, like Eren in the first place.

You’re wrong. You’re so so wrong. You’re not sure how it happened, but you book the role. And the turn around is so fast that you’re packing up your things to move to Germany in less than a week.

Your parents - infinitely supportive of your dreams, who were adamant you shouldn't give up on it - were driving you to the airport. And your little brother, Falco, cries softly when you wave him goodbye.

And when you’re on the plane, it all sits in that you’re moving away from home. That you’re acting. That you could… really be a triple threat. And it’s silly to say when you’re only fifteen but it feels that way.

That this could happen and that it’s real.

You skim the email they sent you again, reviewing the details you have already committed to memory. You’ve read them over a hundred times, and they still haven’t set in.

Dear Y/N, Congratulations on being selected to play the role of Y/N L/N! We’re so excited to have you on the team. Attack on Titan shooting will occur in Nördlingen, Germany, from August to February. Please arrive on set as soon as possible - so promotional images can be taken of you and your co-star and preliminary screen tests can be filmed. You will be living on-set with other members of the cast. Townhouses and assignments will be given upon arrival. Currently, only a small percentage of the ensemble has been cast - others will arrive as they are needed. A large part of the ensemble will be around your age range. In the interests of your personal character development (and following some very legal laws), classes will be provided off days from set so that you are a functioning member of society and all that. Attached is the script for the pilot. Please review your lines in the upcoming days. Congratulations, once again! Signed, Hange Zoe

Hange. Fucking. Zoe. As if any part of this experience couldn’t get crazier, you’re literally acting on a show with your fucking idols.

Some part of you already rues the day that this is going to end. Because you already know it’s going to be everything you wanted.

When you arrive at the townhouse, no one is there. You drag your four bags up the stairs and take note of all the names on each of the doors. It seems that more people are cast in the week it took you to get here because there are some names you don’t recognize on the assignments.

Reiner and Bertholdt

Miche and Erwin

Jean and Marco

Eren and Armin

Mikasa and Y/N

Mikasa. You remember a few of her lines from the script and from your understanding - the show is centered around you, Eren, Mikasa, and Armin. Armin and Eren’s rooms are directly across from yours and Mikasa’s, which you’re sure was on purpose.

After hauling your bags up, taking a shower, and digging out your beloved noise-canceling headphones, you drag yourself down to the kitchen, where you attempt to find some food.

The kitchen has very little - a few loose packets of ramen on the counter, eggs, and condiments. You settle for making ramen, one of the few meals you can successfully make (because it requires two steps), and set out.

And after successfully making your dinner, you drop it the second you turn around.

Because Eren’s staring at you, a glass of water in his hand.

And you figure that your dropping the bowl startles him because he drops his glass too, and ythen ou’re both awkwardly staring at each other, rambling explanations as you yank your headphones off and take note of the glass on the floor.

“Eren! I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were here and-”

“Y/N. Are you okay? We just got back. I didn’t mean to startle you or-”

“You shouldn’t move, Eren. There’s a bunch of glass everywhere and-”

Other footsteps cut you off, and you’ve officially entered your worst nightmare. Because not only did you just humiliate yourself in front of your co-star, but now Levi and Hange are standing in front of you - laughing at you.

Well, Levi’s smoldering, but Hange’s literally cracking up so hard that they're crying tears out of their eyes. Levi walks up to Eren while Hange takes your side, dragging you both to the sides away from the glass.

Levi’s scolding Eren as he starts cleaning the glass, both of you shamefully standing against the wall.

“Good going, Eren. If she didn’t hate you before, she totally does now.” Levi states.

You look over to find Eren blushing - his cheeks beet red and the tips of his ears burning.

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Hange.”

“I’m Levi. We hope you got in okay. We just took Eren to the store to get more things for the house.”

“You two should go wash your hands. We’ll make more ramen and call you when we’re done, okay?”

“Okay, Hange. I’ll show you the way, Y/N.”

You follow Eren as you both awkwardly walk to the bathroom.

“God. That was so embarrassing. I’m so sorry, Eren.”

“It’s not your fault. After you didn’t respond three times, I should have noticed they were noise canceling.”

“You were talking?”

“Ah yeah. You were singing, so I asked if you had been doing it for a while.”

When you reach the bathroom, you can’t help but put your face in your hands as if that would stop your cheeks from burning the way they were.

This is literally the worst start ever. You broke an entire bowl of food in front of Eren, and then Hange and Levi had to scold you guys like you were little kids and clean it up for you.

When you and Eren return to the table, Hange and Levi make you fresh bowls of ramen and set them out for you directly across from them. You don’t miss how their hands are locked together on the table and how… romantic it seems - even if Levi’s literally insulting Hange right now.

“I know they wrote the character to be a little dirty, but that doesn’t mean you need to start doing method acting, Hange.”

You interrupt their conversation as you and Eren slide into the chair, their faces quirking toward yours.

“Um. Do you mind me asking what method acting is, Levi? I don’t really know all of this…acting stuff.”

“That’s right. I'm sorry, Y/N.” responds Levi, pushing his bowl into the center of the table.

“Method acting is our secret. It’s how we…act so well. Not to pat ourselves on the back or anything, but we’re pretty decent.”

“Better than decent, you’re both… triple threats,” you respond, shocked at the fact that they’re downplaying something like this.

Surely they can’t be serious.

“Method acting, young Y/N, is a technique we use to connect with our characters emotionally. We already think you’re a good fit for the character you’ve been cast, but you still have to put in the work to “be” that character. Bring your own life and personality into it - even if you’re not playing you.” Hange responds.

“When Hange and I did La La Land, we played two lovers. I was a jazz artist, and she was an actress. While we were filming, Hange and I went on dates each week to get to know each other, and I wrote her songs to get into the mood of filming.”

You can hear Eren’s chopsticks clinking against his bowl as he speaks next, his voice firm.

“But you… you’re dating now. How do you know the line between fake and real?” Eren asks.

“You’ll learn quickly that trying not to love Hange is like holding your breath underwater. You just can’t.”

Hange starts pinching Levi’s cheeks and cooing over him, which Levi swats off before they respond again.

“Acting isn’t…fake, Eren. Like I said, this character - it should be all parts you, your own personality, just in this situation. And we’re not telling you to fall in love like your characters are going to but-”

“Wait. Our characters are going to fall in love?”

“Indeed they are, Y/N. The way it’s written - some part of them has always been in love. Like it’s natural that they don’t know how to do anything else, but you’re best friends for a better part of the show. The romance only really comes to fruition at the end.” Levi responds, standing up as he grabs the bowls before you.

You and Eren give each other a look as Hange peers over, smiling between the two of you.

“So if you and Levi went on dates for La La Land because you were lovers, Eren and I should… hang out to be best friends?” you ask.

Hange laughs, standing up to crush both you and Eren in a hug.

“God, you’re both so cute. I think you’ll end up being good friends anyways - you have lots of scenes together and press and all that, so-”

“No, Hange. I want us to be the best.” Eren states.

You can feel your cheeks burning - at Eren referring to the two of you as “us” - at how he wants the same thing as you, and at how Hange’s smirking at the two of you.

“God. You’re like the perfect kid for this role. Keep that energy when you film the pilot.”

You and Eren amble back up to your rooms as Hange and Levi start attending meetings, preparing for filming. They tell you that you’re filming one scene tomorrow - the one you and Eren screen tested on - and then getting fitted for costumes and harnesses for stunts.

Levi and Hange are producing the show alongside Erwin - one of the other actors on the show. They all attended SHWA together back in the day, basically the best acting academy out there, and now they’re producing and helping the writing of the show altogether.

SHWA is so elite that every single Savant acting winner has attended the academy. There has yet to be a non-SHWA-affiliated actor to win.

But even beyond acting, they’re producing and screenwriting. Just when you think they can’t get cooler, they do.

Eren knocks on your door a little past eleven, shyly peeking into your doorway.

“Hi, Eren.”

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Can we talk?”

“Sure.”

You both plop down onto your bed, staring at the silver fan swinging around on the ceiling.

“I know that, uh. Hange said we would become best friends anyways, but we should really be best friends like you said - like hanging out, trusting each other, and all that.”

“Okay, Eren. Sure.”

“I really want us to be the best, and Levi’s been saying this show is special, and we can use it to… make our dreams come true.”

You turn to your side, resting your hands against your elbow as he mimics your motions.

“Do you have a dream, Eren?”

“Promise not to tell anyone?”

“Hey. We’re best friends. There’s no one to tell but you.”

He smiles, his cheeks turning pink again as he responds, his shoulders relaxing.

“I really want to get a Savant Award for acting. Best Actor in a Lead Role. It’s been my dream since I was a kid.”

You smile, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder as you respond.

“Eren. You’re totally going to see your dream come true. You’re already so in touch with your emotions, I was floored when you started crying during the screen test.”

He’s blushing even harder at the praise, so ashamed that he’s flipped back towards the ceiling, watching the fan spin around again.

“Do you have a dream, Y/N?”

“Yeah. I, um. Want to be a triple threat.”

You whisper it into the air like a bad omen.

Because telling your parents and your little brother is one thing - some part of them has to support you regardless because you’re family.

But telling someone like Eren, someone who doesn’t know anything about you, feels like… you’re bearing your soul to him or something.

“You could totally be a triple threat. You already have experience in singing and dancing.”

“Yeah, but my school choir and plays don’t really count. Triple threats are…next level and I-”

He reaches down, locking his fingers with yours, which triggers some kind of anticipation in you because you’re holding your breath. Clenching your stomach. Drinking in the words he’s saying.

“You’re next level. When your dream comes true, I’ll be right beside you. Telling you that I told you so.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah, Y/N. We’re best friends. It’s you and me till the end. We’ll be laughing about this when it happens to us."

You’re both smiling up at the ceiling, the anticipation, hopes, and dreams you’ve held onto for so long burning in your chest because they’re right on your doorstep.

“Eren.”

“Hm, Y/N?”

“How did you know that I’ve sung and danced before?”

He winces, quietly whispering into the air.

“I googled you after the screen test. I had a feeling it was going to be you.”

You both turn your heads to smile at each other, this night marking the start of your shared dream.

You agree. You and Eren. Till the end.

You film the screen test scene the next day. And when you wipe Eren’s tear off his face again, and the director cuts, Hange and Levi are smiling sunshine at you, the former shitting bricks at the sight of the two of you.

And when Hange runs around set, praising two upcoming Savants, you and Eren can’t help but fist bump behind your backs, smiling sunshine at each other like Levi and Hange were too.

You’re both going to go down in history.

next part linked here

taglist: @platrom @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetnertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @daisynik7 @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore

pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

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devils-dares · 4 months

Text

Man's World

summary: a tight championship race, a relationship situationship enemies with benefits that can't take place anywhere but behind the scenes, two drivers pitted against one another. who will prevail?

pairing: f1 driver x f1 driver!fem!reader (written with lewis hamilton in mind, but contains no identifying traits for any driver)

warnings: smut MDNI, verbal fights, driving, strong language, toxic masculinity, women being talked about negatively (in a man's world), being pathetic

wordcount: 5005

a/n: i have been working on this since august. this fic has gone through many phases of life with me, and i have finally finished it. i truly hope you enjoy.

-----

Good God, what had you gotten yourself into? It wasn’t supposed to be anything, if anything you two were bitter rivals to the death. Saying his name was like licking a battery, leaving a coppery acidic taste in your mouth.

So why did you wake in his bed? He, his body shining in the early morning sun, was making a plate from what you imagined was room service breakfast. His sheets, they smell like him, and the memories from last night and nights past come flooding into your head again.

He’s laying it on thick, smiling at you when he sees you sitting up in bed.

“You okay?” He says, the sweetest voice spilling from his lips. You hum, the ache between your thighs and the soreness in your hips delectably painful. He hands you a plate.

Your head spins from the irony of it all. Enemies to lovers, you’d said the night before as a joke. And what did he say in response?

“Lovers don’t fuck each other like this.”

It was true, the bruises on your body spoke wretched stories when they darkened over days, but sung beautifully while you moaned out his name underneath him as he pressed on them. He fucked as hard as he fought on track, the two of you trading first and second place back and forth every race. It’d become a game, riling each other up all week long just to end up on the podium next to each other and the same bed later on. It was a joke around the paddock that the two of you had tension and needed to “sort it out”.

All things had to end eventually, right? It bothered you when his alleged girlfriend was at Silverstone. He’d just spent the night prior making sure you couldn’t talk while his head was between your legs and now Thursday brings rumors of him walking the paddock with a lady friend.

She was beautiful, and that pissed you off.

He came to your room Sunday night after the race, a knock you two have come to create inadvertently. You didn’t bother to open the door, instead opting to lean against it.

“Open the door,” he said, “someone could see. Open the fucking door.” He’s agitated, good, you think. He led the race by a few seconds, but his cockiness came through like always, leading to an ill-timed spin and you taking the win from him. You’re winning the championship by just over ten points, and he’s had a slew of what could be considered amazing races, but losses in his book because he’s a place behind you. He knocks and knocks until you’re sure his fingers go raw, and you wipe a stray tear before opening the door to toxicity personified. He pushes past you to get in and slams the door shut. You sigh and rub your forehead before he pushes you up against the door.

“When I say open the door, open the fucking door, got it?”

“I’m not going to listen to you.” You challenge him, and he puffs his chest out, showing off just how much bigger he is than you.

“You’ve already tried being a brat, remember what that got you?” A night full of edging and no release, that’s exactly what that got you. Your body shudders at the memory.

“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought.” He laughs.

“Fuck you!” You try to shove him but he barely moves an inch, instead grabbing your wrists and pushing them back against the door.

“What’s got you in such a mood? Back to back races left you a little sex-starved?” He tuts. “I thought I taught you better than that.”

“Who was that girl you were walking around with?” You ask, tears brimming at your waterline in anger.

“You’re jealous! Do you know how pathetic that is? What gives you a right to know, being my whore in private?” Your face turns away from his, but he pulls your hands up to hold with one of his, and he turns your chin towards him with his free hand. He sees how red you are, face burning with embarrassment.

“She’s an obligation. Management, you know.”

“So you’re not-”

“No. I wouldn’t be here if I was. She’s in the room across the hall from me.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? You don’t own me, you shouldn’t be obligated to know who she is.”

“Yet you told me.” He drops his hands.

“You know, if I’m not going to get what I want from you tonight, maybe I should go to her. She seemed very eager to get to know me when we got together for this.”

“Wait, no,” you say, sighing at the words you’re about to say, “just stay here with me, you’ll get what you want.” You’re embarrassed, face turning red. He smiles, and the bared teeth spell out danger for you.

“That’s what I wanted to hear from you.”

He leaves at two in the morning. You know because you lay awake all night, listening to him breathe. The ache between your legs was no longer pleasant or welcome, and you were tired of giving in to him. He gathers his clothes, does a half-assed job at pulling the covers back over your body, and doesn’t even bother to close the door quietly, instead opting to come near to slamming it.

You wish he could just break your heart, leave you to sulking by yourself, but he seems to have that same, sick attachment that you have to him. He’s bad for you, and the both of you would be sick in the head if you had any fantasy of this becoming a real thing. He’s not worried about losing his job if this gets discovered, his name is more than enough to keep the lights on and the paychecks running. You, on the other hand, were not well liked throughout the paddock apart from the drivers. You were a controversial topic, people either hated you or were your fiercest defenders.

You turn over and check the clock, 2:46, it reads. You sigh, squeezing a pillow over your head. This needs to end, for both the betterment of you and him.

—--

That ideal comes crashing down in Qatar, literally. The two of you collide, taking each other out of the race. It was his fault entirely, and that was reflected with the addition of two penalty points to his super license. Unfortunately, the two of you had to enter the media pen at the same time, and the daggers of death he sent your way were not easy to miss.

You were wound up, he hadn’t come into your room since Zandvoort when he’d beaten you by quite a close margin, just a touch over half a second. He hadn’t even spared you a word, driver’s meetings be damned. You were left to hang high and dry.

It wasn’t for lack of trying, though. Almost every stop you had, and weekends in between, you spent time at the clubs, attracting men to bring back to your place, but none of them scratched the itch that he left. You barely even finished with half of them. He was obnoxious, insufferable, yet you found yourself in the bathroom of another hotel room fixing up your hair to go knock on his door.

You looked at yourself. You were attractive, sexy, but it made you feel dirty that you dressed up all for him. Suddenly, the lace in your lingerie felt itchy, cutting into your skin. The silk felt like it was actively pilling against you, and the tendrils of your hair wouldn’t stop sticking to the lipstick that just so happened to be his favorite shade on you.

You had to get your independence back from a man who knew he had it and just didn’t care. You didn’t go.

That didn’t stop you from opening the door when he knocked a few minutes later, though. He smiled when he saw your attire, you didn’t bother to cover up. At least you didn’t fall into the trap of knocking on his door, small victories.

He stayed the night this time, just like the first few times. He actually cared back then, and it feels like that today, with his hand in your hair holding your head to his chest. You woke to his soft breathing, he’s still asleep, and that gives you the perfect opportunity to leave him like he left you.

You throw all of your clothes in your suitcase haphazardly, and drag out the luggage to the hallway to zip it up, in fear that he might wake and try to talk or squeeze another round out of you.

You two ran into each other a weekend later at an event in Monaco.

“You left.” He says.

“What did you say?”

“You left a week ago in Qatar. You weren’t there when I woke up.”

“Did you expect me to be?”

“Considering how-”

“If that sentence ends in some grade school jab against me I’m going to hurt you. You just lost a good thing.” He put his hands up in mock defeat.

“I didn’t know how sensitive you were going to be about this whole thing.”

“And if you knew?”

“I would’ve found someone else to fuck.”

—--

The Las Vegas Grand Prix, if you could’ve skipped it you would’ve. Inaugural grand prix in Sin City, your hands were already shaking on the way over here. He must’ve gotten the idea after Qatar, because absolutely no effort was given in him talking to you other than what was necessary, which seemed like a lot, given every single interview question was framed towards yours and his friendship. Both of you answered the same, there was no friendship beyond what was required in a purely professional setting, and the two of you were excited to put the championship race behind you once one of you was crowned.

Mathematically, there were about six drivers still in the championship race, the thorn in your sides that kept the two of you from being in a truly isolated battle, but realistically it’d come down to the two of you. That idea was currently being drilled into you from your team. Keep a clean race and good pace. Every single scenario was being run through during this meeting, and you only participated when necessary, which wasn’t smart, considering this would be your first time racing this track. You couldn’t help it, your mind was wrapped up in a twisted way, your situationship taking over your mind like a sick grade school crush.

I wonder if I’m on his mind as much as he is on mine. Does he think about me often? Does he think about what happened? About why I left the way I did in Qatar?

Your name was being called and your teammate knocked your leg with his knee. You looked at him, a thankful look in your eyes as you answered a question on strategy.

The start of this race weekend sucked. Practice 1, you’d picked up a puncture from an extra bit of carbon fiber on the track. Practice 2 brought mechanical failures, components overheating from the temperature of the track. Your confidence was shot seeing him at the top of the leaderboard in the sessions leading up to qualifying. And when qualifying came, your bad luck stuck around. You felt a power cut in your last flying lap of Q3, resulting in a measly P6 where your teammate qualified P2 and he got pole position.

With the team breaking curfew to put you in a driveable car for the next day, you were shaken up to say the least. You were in the car, the team doing their last minute checks and holding tire blankets and coolers to the car. The track was lit up beautifully in an elegance that only the night could hold.

Five cars in front of you. Five to pass and then hold the position. That’s all you had to do to secure a good lead into the final race. The clock clicked into position, the track cleared. You took the formation lap to get locked in, butterflies fluttering in your chest when the red lights started stacking.

The timing was perfect. You had an amazing start, picking off two positions into turn one. The start was great, but not much else was. You gained another position about halfway through the race, and a botched pit from another team allowed you to gain second up until an aggressive move from another driver caused damage and relegated you to P3.

But everything about his race was aces. Perfect pit, minimal tyre degradation, he was flying. You would’ve taken him out yourself, he was pissing you off that much. Yet again, you felt a power cut in the straight, and that caused you to lose fastest lap to him. Luckily your teammate was in a position to steal it back, but that was one less point for you in a championship battle for the ages.

You stood on the podium next to him, proud bastard, you thought. He walked past you, a glint in his eyes that was unmistakably lust, but could’ve only been seen as a rivalry spark by anyone else. He took his spot on the podium, and when it came time to spray, he was sure to aim only for you, seemingly rubbing in his victory.

He didn’t knock that night, or the night after that. You waited up for him, willing to bring him inside, but he never came. You couldn’t bring yourself to knock on his door either, saving yourself from the embarrassment of him not answering. You didn’t go clubbing, you couldn’t. If you saw him out with another woman, having the time of his life… you shook your head. It wasn’t worthwhile to think of him like that.

You flew home. Wasting tears in Vegas would do nothing to prepare you for the last race. The only one that really mattered, the championship decider.

You put in the hours at the facility, spending nights there because you didn’t want to go home. You’d sleep in your office, the only place he hadn’t tarnished with his presence. The team was concerned about you, but they still had two cars and two drivers to get ready for the finale.

I wonder if I’m on his mind as much as he is on mine.

If you had to go to one more team related event, you were going to cry. You were squeezed into formal wear and airbrushed to the gods the days leading up to Abu Dhabi. You shook hands with sponsors and promised results over the weekend. You were fucking exhausted.

It didn’t help that he looked amazing every time you saw him, which was often considering you stayed at the same hotel, and he was everywhere you were. Whether you were arriving and he was already sat in the breakfast lounge, or you were with a friend and his gaze lingered just a bit too long on your smiling figure, he was fucking everywhere.

Finally, a moment of reprieve, you thought as you entered the hotel. You were able to sneak past the fans, and took your hood off as soon as you entered, the lobby serene in the middle of the night.

You punched the button to call the elevator, and once you got in you pressed the button for the rooftop terrace, leaning against the back wall. Just before the doors closed, however, a hand jutted between the doors. A few people darted in from different teams, immediately making the cart feel small, and someone came to stand next to you, their body pressed up against the side of yours, pushing you against the wall. You knew that cologne, and dared to peek up.

It was him.

You cursed him in every language you knew. He stayed pressed up against you like that even as staff began to filter out. Soon enough, it was just the two of you, and he seemed like he was heading to the roof with you. As if every holy body hated you at that moment, there was no one else on the terrace when you two got there. You rushed to the edge, taking in a breath with your arms on the railing.

“Been a while since it was just the two of us, hasn’t it?” The man had to be immune to taking hints. You didn’t answer.

“Are you just planning on ignoring me for as long as possible?” Ignored again.

“I just hope you’re doing okay, y’know.”

“Don’t do that thing where you pretend to care just to get into my pants, it’s not going to work.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” You turned around to face him, a look of disbelief on your face.

“I swear.” He says. You don’t answer.

“What we were doing, it was fun, it is fun, but I’m not losing you over it.”

“Look who’s ready to be the bigger person,” you say sarcastically, “we weren’t friends, you’re not losing anything.” He rubs his forehead.

“Don’t you get tired of all of this?”

“I tire of you.”

“Ouch.” Silence falls on the conversation.

“We’re rivals,” you say after a bit, “we were never meant to be close.”

“So it’s like that.”

“It always was.” The two of you lock eyes, both unwilling to break first. You’ve effectively shut down the conversation, but your heart still aches to hear his voice, his hands on your skin, anything.

“For your sake, I hope you win on Sunday.” He starts to walk away, towards the elevators.

“Why the sudden attitude change?” You blurt out.

“Maybe I realized I lost a good thing.” He turns back to you as he says it.

“You…” You try to start. He steps closer to you, looking at your hands as if he was contemplating holding them. He huffs, deciding on grabbing them and holding them close to his chest.

“You are far more important to me than you realize.” And just like that, he’s got you trapped again. He leans down, letting go of one hand to cup your chin, tilting your head up to kiss you. You curse yourself for feeling a connection to him, even still. HIs hands fall to your hips, squeezing them.

“We shouldn’t… too out in the open up here.” You say.

“My room?”

“We have practice tomorrow.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.” He starts to turn away.

“Just a little bit of time together won’t hurt, right?” You say. He smiles at you.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He takes your hand, leading you back to the elevator, clicking his floor number.

As it turns out, spending a night with your ex-enemy with benefits does hurt. Your phone was buzzing off the nightstand with your manager asking you where you were. You groaned, rubbing your eyes as you reached over.

“Fuck!” You yell, waking him up with your voice.

“What? What is it?”

“I’m going to be massively late, I have to go.” You scramble to find your clothes, scattered across the floor.

“I’m not going for another hour and a half, you can’t be that late.”

“I also can’t be seen with you, do you know how bad that would be for both of our reputations? If someone were to catch me leaving your room and going back to mine… I knew this was a bad idea!”

“Don’t overreact, we’ll figure this out.”

“There is no figuring this out, I’m going to get caught on the way to my room in my clothes from the night prior, which, may I remind you, I was photographed in. That is going to ruin me publically, who, may I remind you again, already hate me.”

“I’m sorry.” He says.

You get dressed quickly and sneak out, getting to your room with almost no eyes on you.

—--

Friday brings a better showing for you and your team than Las Vegas did, topping both free practices by two-tenths and one-tenth respectively. Everyone was happy about your performance, and you were excited to see yourself on the top of the timing sheets again.

Saturday brought the same results, topping another free practice. It was a bit touch-and-go at qualifying, having to rush across the line with only a few seconds remaining to get your last flying lap, but that was just enough time to push you over him.

Sunday. The day you were simultaneously dreading and looking forward to. Between the two of you, winner takes all.

You sat in your car in the pole box. You glance to the side and catch a glimpse of him, he’s nodding his head to something the mechanics are saying. You sigh. Your mechanics float around your car, fiddling around for anything last second. The coolers blow on you as well as the car, the temperature of Abu Dhabi was nothing to trifle with.

You take a deep breath, feeling secure and quiet in your helmet. You play out the track in your mind, feeling every twist and turn in your body before you drive. Your eyes are closed, but your mind is far from relaxed.

During the formation lap, you become acutely aware of just how much is riding on this race. Not only your reputation, but your opportunities for the next season, and just how much power you can have with negotiations as it was your contract year. You shake your head. No time to think about that if you haven’t even accomplished the first step, winning this race.

You roll into your box, watching in your side mirror as the last of the drivers do so and then your eyes flick up to watch the lights. All you had to do was get the start.

Your timing couldn’t have been better. You were gone by the time you reached the first corner. He’d gotten a good start, but nothing compared to yours. All you had to do was manage the race.

The two of you quickly realized you were both pulling away from the competition, and he had much more grip in the corners, cutting at your lead. Soon enough, you were called in to box.

Time ticked away as you rolled into your pit box. The mechanics lifted the car, but one of the tyres wouldn’t come loose. Your internal timer was screaming at you. You see him enter the box and leave before you get all tyres on, and by the time you exit, he’s got a second and a half on you. You curse out your engineer after learning the pitstop took six seconds.

The race was on, and with him just out of DRS, you had a lot of time to make up. The race was slipping out of your grasp, and you thought of every wrong decision that put you in this position. Did you not slim down enough? Was there an extra gram or two of something on the car? You huff, shaking your head clear of the thoughts. There was no time to think like that, not when there was a slim chance you could still win.

And then it happened.

The screens on the side of the track blinked the letters that turned out to be your saving grace: FCY followed by SC. The limiter flashes on the screen of your steering wheel and suddenly you’re back in the race, seeing his rear end grow closer and closer until you’re right up against him. Finally, after a few laps, your engineer lets you know that the safety car is coming in.

“Be ready,” he warns, “you know he could take off at any point.” And so he does. The exit of turn 16, onto the start straight.

You had him, you didn’t let him slip away, not even for a second. It was close with him for a while, two laps to be exact, before your slipstream and DRS combo took him. Your engineer cheers you on as calmly as he can, his even voice showering you in praise. You breathe through the turns, knowing only a few laps remain between you and this championship. Everything rides on this, everything. Win this last race and your name will be in the history books forever.

And that’s exactly what you did, crossing the finish line with those fireworks going off in the background, nothing could take this from you. You did your cooldown lap, pulling back up to the finish line to do your celebratory donuts, laughing and hollering on the radio with your team. You couldn’t even be bothered that he was there with you, right next to you. You pull into the pitlane, your heart racing as your engineer offers the news that you are not, in fact, the target of any penalties. You sit in your car after pulling up to first place, flipping your visor up and crying, soaking up every emotion possible in this moment. You feel pats and slaps on your helmet, other drivers congratulating you on the win, on the championship. You finally find it in you to leave your car, climbing out slowly and soaking it in, that your name will forever be in the history books. You drop your steering wheel in your car and turn around-

He’s standing right there, his shoulders droop a little more than usual but he stands there, waiting for you. He approaches you slowly, leaving his helmet on.

“Congratulations, you drove well.” He says softly. Interestingly enough, your heart breaks a little for him. You pull him into a half hug.

“Scared me for a minute there, thought I’d lose to you again this year after that pit stop.”

“You underestimate your drive. There’s nothing I could do to stop you in those last laps. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful set of last laps to close out.” Your heart races at his words, his praise eliciting a reaction that feels unlike anything you’d ever felt with him. He flicks your visor down as he walks away, getting a small giggle out of you.

Finally, you get to your team. They’re practically bursting over the barricades to congratulate you, chanting your name. You laugh, running up to them, allowing yourself to be bombarded with their congratulatory cheers.

“Go get that damn trophy for us.”

The trophy ceremony was honestly a blur, literally and figuratively. You’re pretty sure you blacked out during it, and tears filled your eyes and rolled down your cheeks. You don’t even remember the party afterwards, the sprays of champagne, the club overflowing with the team’s staff, your teammate getting hammered after helping to win the constructor’s championship as well.

You didn’t remember much until the next morning.

You woke up groaning in the hotel room, your phone buzzing itself off the nightstand. You grabbed your head, this hangover was not going to let you go gently. You snatched your phone off the floor, genuinely surprised that you remembered to plug it in last night.

“Hello?” You answer, your voice hoarse from whooping and cheering all through last night.

“Please tell me you didn’t fuck him, because if you did I’m gonna bury your body where no one will find you.” It’s your publicist, sounding exasperated and also hungover.

“What?”

“Did you fuck him?”

“Fuck who?”

“Friday morning, somebody has a photo of you stumbling out of his room at the goddamn crack of dawn in your dress from the night before.”

“Oh my god.”

“So I’m gonna take that as a yes-” You drop your phone, unwilling to hear the rest as you can just predict how much of a PR nightmare this will be.

“Who knows?”

“It’s a pretty grainy photo, honestly, and it’s posted by one of those deuxmoi wannabe F1 twitter pages… but-”

“But what?”

“If you edit it to make it a little clearer, it’s pretty fucking obvious. It’s circulating pretty fast, but we can put out a statement if it’s not true. So, did you?”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“How many times?” You sigh, rubbing your forehead.

“I don’t know. A lot.” It’s her turn to sigh.

“I’m too hungover to deal with this, but I’ll see what I can do. It… it won’t be a lot, more likely than not we’ll be planning damage control. And of course this comes out the morning after you win the championship, you need to pick your men better.” She hangs up with a click.

You know you shouldn’t, but of course you begin to scroll through social media, seeing everything that’s under your name. Forget the championship, this is the biggest piece of news this sport has seen in a while. And of course nobody’s condemning him, why would they? He’s got a paycheck the size of his goddamn ego and a fanbase that spans continents. You scream into a pillow, throwing your phone across the hotel room. Your phone buzzes on the floor again, and you’re the most sure you’ve ever been that if you dare to check, it’ll be your team principal. He wouldn’t reach out, it’s not his reputation that’s being destroyed. No, he’s being paraded around for hitting that.

Angry tears stream down your cheeks. How could you be so fucking stupid? Of course you were bound to get caught, but they couldn’t let your championship sit undisturbed for one day? The stupid trophy sits on the countertop by the bar, practically taunting you with its presence. The hunk of metal changes from an achievement to an accusation before your eyes. That you slept your way to the top, that he let you have it, that you needed a man to get you to where you are. It makes you sick, and that’s probably why you find yourself hugging the toilet now. It’s not fair, it’s never been fair…

And it will never be fair.

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fategoflatass · 4 months

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I used to be so against the slow burn trope. Not because I thought it was shit; it's just, I usually don't have the patience to wait whatever-amount-superior-to-three damn chapters for my dear ship to finally be able to look at each other without blushing and/or hold hands. Thus why you often times see me reading oneshots or fics with the "Established Relationship" tag on them.

So you can imagine just how surprised—or maybe not, maybe I just didn't think enough about it—I was when I realized my newest fixation's main pairing is—canonically—the embodiment of slow burn. Because holy shit they're taking their time.

Nothing against how Kusuriya develops its love story—quite the opposite, actually. The relationship between Jinshi and Maomao, two characters that are written as beautifully as their romance, is a rather realistic approach as to how the same or a similar dynamic would developed in real life. In such a complicated situation, with such complex feelings about emotions—both external and their own—and attachment, makes sense that it takes so long for the relationship to finally sail.

The problem is, I didn't know I was signing with the Devil the moment I decided to pick up the light novel. Ten volumes and nothing has happened. Nothing.

And you can say that technically things have happened, because they have. I mean, Jinshi is just so desperate for Maomao to give him the time of day, you know what I mean? And even that isn't enough anymore and thus he has committed some of the craziest shit I've seen in any romance. Which okay, I don't usually read these type of romances but still.

What I mean by "nothing" is just, their relationship hasn't changed status. I could also say that it seems to go nowhere, but that'd be lying. Since, you know, it has changed quite a lot—just not in the way my impatient ass wanted it to. Because he can be as honest with his feelings as he pleases, and those around them might be heavely conscious of the tension and thus constantly tease those lovebirds (as they should), but babygirl's not helping, you know?

And I get it, Maomao's not the best at expressing and understanding herself, and she's also way too busy worrying about going as unnoticed as possible (she should give up on that one already, tbh) while keeping her head where it should be. But like, I can't help feeling frustrated over it like ‼‼

GIRL, FUCK THE RULES. TAKE THAT PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A MAN AND RUNAWAY SOMEWHERE NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO IDENTIFY YOU. YOU THEN CARRY THAT BITCH BRIDESTYLE TO THE CLOSEST CHURCH AND MAKE HIM YOUR WIFE. PROCEED TO FROG AROUND, EXPERIMENT WITH YOUR UTERUS AS MUCH AS YOU'D LIKE, AND THEN TEACH THE PRODUCTS OF YOUR PRACTICES AS YOUR OWN GUINEA PIG THE WAYS OF HERBAL MEDICINE. AS EASY AS THAT.

But she won't. She'll take her sweet ass time being in denial about both Jinshi's and her own feelings, then maybe she'll proceed to analize herself and find out that maybe, just maybe, that affection that she'd been feeling for that loser became something else. Did said affection also become something more complicated? Absolutely. Does she know how to deal with it? Hell no, but fuck it. If I learned something from school is that you always leave the hardest parts for later.

Now you see why I was so against reading slow burn?

And you wanna know the worst part? I loved it—I loved every second of it, every word, every page. Every scene that seemed to help the relationship advance, only for Maomao to say nope and leave like she owns the place, which at this point she fucking might.

It feels like I, as the reader, am in the middle of a heatwave and some sadistic bastard won't stop teasing me with ice cream—they put it in front of my face, close enough that I can smell the cold. Then take a spoon and eat little by little while staring directly to my eyes. At times they seem to show mercy and feed me a spoon, only for it to be a rather small quantity of serving—serving that tastes so damn good at first, only for it to have such a bitter aftertaste. But if I gotta have something in common with Jinshi is that I'll never be able to beat the masochist allegations, so I'll wait patiently for the next spoon and its corresponding and seemingly enless teasing from that faceless being.

So yeah, I'm still against it, only that now I understand the appeal—even if I have yet to find out about the whereabouts of my sanity while still mananing with the little I've left.

#kusuriya no hitorigoto #the apothecary diaries #jinmao #mai.txt #long post #rant #?#did i just write a rant about a realisticly slow burning romance? yes #please understand i've no one to complain to about them #so i better let go these feelings before i explode and throw my pc out of the window or something #i tried being as spoiler free as possible but please tell me if i should change anything about... whatever this is

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brummiereader · 11 months

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PREVIOUS PART

Killing Me Softly (PART FIVE/ DARK!TOMMY)

Summary: Some unexpected news sends you into turmoil. With only one person to blame for the information being withheld from you, the evening ends with someone getting hurt.

Warnings: Language, violence, mentions of blood, smut, angst, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, psychological mind games, psychological abuse, Dark!Tommy (this is a dark fic, please read the warnings before continuing)

Writers note: This chapter starts where the flashback in chapter one ended. There is then another flashback to what happened that day, until we return to the present again. There is a small cameo from my lovely mutual @call-sign-shark OC, Heaven. Her presence in this chapter is very fitting to the story as she will be the one to give the reader an ominous warning. If you haven't already checked out the series "Heaven In Your Eyes" (Arthur Shelby x Reader/ OC Heaven) then please do, it's an incredible series and so beautifully written.

" Tommy please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, wait...wait!"

With the bloodied knife in his hand Tommy pushed you up against the closed door of your bedroom, the handle digging into your lower back as his other hand wrapped around your throat.

" Tut tut, now don't you start crying darling, you brought this upon yourself. Go on, look down, look at what you did" he said grabbing your face, his bloody fingers digging into your cheeks as he made you look at the large gash on his forearm.

"Tommy please..." You pleaded, an unstoppable flow of tears streaming down your face as you looked down at his bloodied arm.

" Don't worry love, I won't cut you, don't want to scar my pretty little wife's skin" he smiled darkly as he dropped the knife on the floor. "But I will punish you" he added, anger in his face as he started unbuckling his belt, your eyes widening in fear as he smirked at your reaction. "A good hiding never hurt anyone sweetheart, you'll thank me when it's over" he said turning you around, your cheek flat against the door as he lifted your night gown, your naked body now on display.

" Tommy I'm sorry, I love you, don't do this" you begged trying to reach for him.

" What was that?" he asked, his face inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin.

" I love you Tommy"

"And I love you darling" he chuckled placing a kiss to your cheek, his lips forming a smile against your soft skin as his hand caressed your exposed skin. Getting his belt ready, Tommy folded it in half as he brought it up into the air, his head tilted as a smirk spread across his face whilst he looked down at your uncovered body.

" Tommy wait!" You pleaded once more, quickly turning around to face him. Cupping his cheeks you crashed you lips onto his as he grabbed the back of your neck pulling you away from him, a look of confusion on his face at your sudden show of desire.

" Tommy, please" you said as you stroked the side of his face, trying to calm the anger rising inside him, only for him to scoff in response at your pathetic attempt to make him stop. You don't know why you did it, maybe you had become as twisted as him, learning his ways of manipulation. Or maybe you desperately wanted to feel something, anything after weeks of feeling so empty and alone. Bringing your hand towards your body, you started undoing the front of your gown, your eyes hooded as you traced your collarbone with your trembling fingers. Lust quickly filling his eyes, Tommy swallowed harshly as he let go of the belt in his hand, dropping it to the floor with a loud thud. Moving his hand up your stomach Tommy cupped your breast, gently squeezing it in his palm as he watched you close your eyes in response, a quiet moan leaving your lips. Feeling his mouth go dry, Tommy gazed at you as your body melted under his touch. You was giving yourself to him willingly. He had waited for this moment for so long that nothing would stop him now...he was going to have you.

Flashback to earlier that day...

Laying in the bath you closed your eyes as you leaned back further, the water now muffling the sound of the workmen downstairs preparing for the event Tommy had planned for tonight. You breathed in deeply, your hands gliding along the bubbles that encircled you, peace, finally. The last few days had been a lot easier since you relented to Tommy's control. You understood the rules of your relationship, you was to do as he wished as he wanted, never to talk back, never to disobey, always be the dutiful wife, a trophy on his arm.

"Y/N" Tommy said standing over you in the bath. "Y/N" he repeated once again. Opening your eyes you abruptly sat up to see your husband glaring down at you, his jaw clenched as he looked over your body, your soap covered breasts fully on display teasing the frustration that had built up in him over the past month.

" Tommy" you replied in surprise as you slipped back down into the water to cover your body. Bending down next to the bath, Tommy dipped his hand into the water, rubbing the bubbles between his fingers as he looked back at you.

" Everyone will be arriving in an hour" he said as he took in your flushed face, his stare reddening you cheeks even more as his fingers glided along the water.

" I'll be ready in time Tommy, I promise" you said as you watched him pick up the sponge from the side of the bath, soaking it in the water.

" There will be a lot of important people at this event, I want you to be on your best behaviour" he added as he brought the sponge up to your shoulder, gently brushing it along your arm.

" I will Tommy" you nodded as you watched his eyes look over your body, the bubbles slowly starting to disintegrate around you. " The waters getting cold, I should get out"

" Seems alright to me" Tommy replied, dipping his hand back into the bath to check its temperature.

" I have to get ready. I want to make myself pretty for you" you said smiling to him as Tommy let out a small chuckle In response.

" You're always pretty Y/N" he replied standing up, walking back to the door, his shoulder now leaning against the frame as he waited for you to get out. With no towel within your reach you stayed seated in the bath as Tommy looked back at you, watching the apprehension grow in your face.

" Do you need this?" He asked looking at the neatly folded towel on the chair next to him. Nodding, your eyes darted between him and your arm covering your chest.

"Well come get it then" he replied, a dark grin spreading across his face as he watched your nervousness.

"I'll put water everywhere" you said looking to him, swallowing harshly at his words. Taking pity on your shyness Tommy reached for the towel and passed it to you.

" Thank you" you replied, wrapping it around your body as you stood up making your way to your vanity, your husband following behind you.

" You're so beautiful Y/N" he said as he stood behind you whilst you sat at the dressing table brushing your hair. Nuzzling his head into your neck, Tommy kissed along your jaw as his hands came down over your shoulders, inching ever closer to the towel wrapped around your body.

"Mr Shelby, there's a problem with the band" a voice said from behind the door as Tommy's hands came to a stop.

" Can it not fucking wait?" he replied placing his hands to his hips in frustration as he turned to look at the door.

" Mr Shelby, they're saying they will leave if they don't get paid upfront"

" Fuck sake, can I never have a moment alone with my wife" Tommy muttered under his breath as he looked at you in the reflection of the mirror staring back at him. Sending him a small smile, Tommy pushed the hair away from your neck as he leant down to place a kiss to your cheek.

The moment the door to the bedroom shut, you slumped back into your chair, your fingers coming up to pinch between your brows. You only had yourself to blame, you thought as you searched for the girl you once was in the mirror In front of you. You agreed to this, you chose this life and now you had to deal with the consequences of your rushed decision. Paint on a smile and carry on, that's what you was always taught, you thought to yourself as you stared your reflection down. With no other option that's exactly what you did, you painted on a smile like any dutiful obedient wife would.

Walking down into the foyer, you looked around at the many guests that had now filled the once empty space. An evening for people to make new contacts, make business deals, introduce themselves into the political world, a world Tommy envisaged himself in with you by his side.

"Well Mr Shelby, you certainly are a lucky man" a gentleman standing next to him said as he nodded in your direction. Turning around Tommy's eyes widened at your choice of dress, a dress he had picked for you to wear for him in private. A dark silk green gown that dipped at the back with a long slit at the front that reached your upper thigh.

" Excuse me" Tommy said, anger in his voice as he clenched his fist at the man's perverted thoughts. With one hand holding tightly onto the bottom of the bannister you watched as your husband stormed over to you.

" What are you wearing?" Tommy said quietly as he pushed himself up against you, covering your body to anyone who dared to look at you.

" Tommy it's the only evening gown I have" you said nervously as you looked at the irritation spreading across his face.

"A dress I brought for my eyes only, not for these old fucks gawking at you. Are you enjoying it? Them staring at you like that? Tommy seethed as his hand started to dig into your lower back. " You're upsetting me Y/N and you know what happens when I get upset. Go change" he said turning you around as you nodded profusely.

" Y/N, darling" Polly said grabbing your arm, spinning you around. " Wow, look at you, you look beautiful love" she said holding your arm out so she could get a better view of your dress. " Very chic" she smiled winking to you. " Come on let's get a drink" she said as your eyes darted to Tommy, panic started to set in as your husband stared you down. You would certainly pay for your disobedience later, you thought to yourself as you walked away from him, his eyes piercing into you.

" Hey you" Ada said as she approached you. " You ok? You look exhausted" she asked, her hand on your arm as concern filled her eyes.

" I'm fine, just not sleeping well that's all"

"I understand, you must be so worried"

" Worried?" You questioned confused.

" Your mum being in hospital and everything. She's getting the best help possible Y/N, Tommy's making sure of it. I know it's been almost two weeks since she's been in there, but she'll be out soon" Ada said, looking at you sympathetically as tears built up in your eyes. " Oh for god's sake, no no no, those are supposed to go over there, by the table with the rest of the food. Sorry hun, we'll catch up later, ok?" she called out, as she followed one of the waiters carrying a silver tray of canapés.

Your mother's sick. Holding onto the closest thing to you, your body felt like it had collapsed in on itself as you scrambled to grab a glass of champagne on the table beside you. Downing it in one you picked up another as you looked over to Tommy staring at you, pinching the bottom of his lip. You was making a fool of yourself he thought as he watched your grab a third glass of champagne. He told you to behave and you hadn't listened...his wife a drunk mess, what an embarrassment. Downing the third glass, you glared back at Tommy, you knew this was all his doing. Your anger was close to boiling over as you clutched onto the glass in your hand. How could he not have told you your mother was sick, you thought to yourself as you found your feet marching towards him, Tommy completely unaware of you closing in on him as he talked to one of the many guests he had invited. You didn't care if you made a scene, in fact you wanted to, you wanted everyone to see the lengths your husband had gone to make your life miserable. Just as you was about to reach him you felt someone grab your arm turning you around.

" Y/N" Arthur said stopping you. "Come here, I want you to meet someone" he continued, his arm around your shoulder as you glanced back at Tommy, your opportunity taken away.

" Y/N, meet my little slice of Heaven" Arthur said letting go of you as he approached a young woman in front of you." My Angel" he said wrapping his arm around her waist as he nuzzled his nose into her neck whilst she giggled in delight.

"It's so nice to finally meet you Y/N" she said brushing her ivory white locks behind her shoulder as her porcelain skin glistened under the candle light. She was mesmerising, Arthur was right, she was an angel.

" Oi, get back here, I'm bloody dying of thirst" Arthur shouted as he chased down a waiter, leaving you alone with Heaven.

" You fell off your horse" she said narrowing her eyes in at someone behind you as your brow scrunched in confusion. How did she know that? Gently taking your hand into hers, you watched her fingers trace over the redness of you skin as she lovingly rubbed away the pain.

" Better?" She smiled, as you moved your wrist in circles, the soreness suddenly vanishing.

"How did you.." you started to say until Heaven pulled you close to her, your stare fixed on the figure approaching you both in the reflection of her eyes.

" Fire burns endlessly in Y/N. He will never let you go. He will hunt you down and live forever through you" she whispered into your ear letting go of you arm as you felt the familiar hand of your husband on your lower back.

" You ladies getting along" Arthur approached with a drink in his hand winking to you both.

" Arthur...Heaven" Tommy said as he cleared his throat, disdain in his voice at her name. The tension was palpable, it was a stand-off piercing stares between Tommy and Heaven as you and Arthur silently looked on.

" Come on darling we have people to meet" Tommy said turning to you, guiding you to the center of the foyer as Heaven's eyes quickly darted to you, panic in her face as she watched you walk away from her.

"What were you doing talking to that witch?" Tommy seethed as he grabbed your arm, bringing you closer to him. " She's the Devil's bride, straight from hell, did she touch you?" he asked as he glared at the long haired woman once more, fear and superstition engulfing his thoughts.

" The only one straight from hell is you" you replied through gritted teeth as you pushed him off you. " You evil bastard, how dare you not tell me about my mother being sick.

" What the fuck did you just call me, eh?" Tommy said grabbing you forcefully by the arm as he dragged you into a small closet room.

" My own mother Tommy" you cried as he shut the door behind you. " My own fucking mother!" you said lunging at him as you repeatedly hit him in the chest. Wrapping his arms around you, he held onto you tightly as your knees went weak.

" I didn't tell you because of how you would react, you see how you get? Look at you Y/N, you need me, you're too emotional to make decisions for yourself. Your mother will be released from hospital in a few days, and if you behave we will go visit her, ok?" Tommy said as he held you out in front of him, your shoulders limp as you nodded to his words, defeated once again.

"Understood?"

" Yes Tommy"

Brushing the tears from your face, Tommy's smile suddenly dropped as he grabbed hold of your chin.

" I'll let this time slide, you're clearly unstable after hearing about your mother. But I warn you Y/N embarrass me like that again, and I'll make sure it's the last time you're ever seen in public" he reiterated as he held tightly onto you chin, your tears falling onto his hand, as his eyes pierced in to you.

Straightening his Tux out Tommy opened the door to the closet, clearing his throat as he walked out.

" Minister, have you met my wife" Tommy said turning around to face you, his hand out waiting for you as you brushed away your tears, a smile painted on your face.

Standing at the kitchen counter you grabbed hold off the whiskey bottle in front of you, staring it down. Another wouldn't hurt you thought to yourself as you poured the bitter liquor into your empty glass. Everyone had left the party a few hours ago, and you had played the role you was supposed to play. You smiled, you laughed you listened to the endless talk of current political matters, all the time Tommy standing next to you, his hand possessively resting on your lower back for the remainder of the night. Now you found yourself alone in the dark, trying to fill the emptiness inside you, the moonlight dancing on your skin each time you raised the glass to your lips.

" Why are you not in bed? " you heard your husbands voice say, his presence being made known by the smell of tobacco filling the air, suffocating your lungs like the invisible hand you constantly felt around your neck . How long had he be standing there, watching you? You questioned, keeping your back to him.

" I asked you a question" Tommy said irritated like a parent scolding their unruly child. Clenching your fist, your jaw tightened as your eyes filled with tears, the knife laying beside you calling your name. Moving your hand slowly along the marble surface you laced your fingers around the handle, clutching it tightly as you whole body began to tremble.

"Y/N" Tommy said again as you turned around, the knife now in your hand, pointing in his direction. A smile forming on his lips Tommy let out a dark laugh as he put his hands in his pockets, slowly approaching you as anger flashed across your face at his dismissive response.

" Go on then" he said as he got closer " I dare your" he taunted you as a smirk formed on the corner of his mouth, the blade of the knife only inches away from his uncovered stomach.

" You're killing me Tommy " you sobbed as he stared you down, his eyes never once moving from yours, unbothered by the knife gripped tightly in your hand.

"I'll make it easier for you" he said closing the gap between him and the blade as he looked down at it slowly piercing into his skin, a trail of blood seeping down his stomach as he hissed at the pain, a look of relief spreading across his face. Looking down in horror you dropped the knife to your side as you looked at your husband's red stained skin. Tommy suddenly reached up, grabbing the back of your head as he pushed his face up against the side of your cheek.

" You're all talk sweetheart" he whispered in your ear mocking you, his grip on you hair painfully tight against your scalp. With one swift movement you pushed him away bringing the knife down onto his arm.

" You bitch!..." Tommy yelled, placing his hand to the gash on his arm as blood dropped on to the kitchen floor, staining the white concrete tiles beneath him. Dropping the knife you brought your hand up to your mouth as you stumbled back in shock at what you had done. You watched as fury grew in his eyes, an unstoppable anger building inside him. Not knowing what else to do you ran past him as he tried to grab hold of your arm, his bloody hands slipping from you as you ran towards the stairs.

"Y/N!! Y/N!!" He shouted at the top of his voice, his words booming from wall to wall. Picking up the knife from the floor Tommy looked down at his bloodied arm as he clenched his grip around the handle. A sudden calmness washed over him as he walked out into the foyer, his posture straightening out as he got to the bottom of the stairs. With his blackened stare looking up at the steps in front of him a devilish smirk grew on his lips as he started making his way up to the second floor.

" Y/N Ohh Y/N"

End of flashback...

Unable to hold back any more Tommy crashed his lips back onto yours as he fumbled to undo the rest of your night dress.

" You've wanted it all this time, haven't you?" He said pressing his hard length into your pelvis. "Say it Y/N" He groaned against your neck as his thumb brushed against your swollen lips, grazing your teeth.

" I have...Tommy, please" you moaned back as he frantically undid his suit trousers, pushing them down to his knees.

" Hurry" you whined as you hooked your leg around him.

" Don't worry darling, I'll give you what you want" he replied with a low chuckle as he pulled your dress further up. Lining his swollen tip up against your waiting heat, Tommy pushed himself into you, letting out a primal groan as he buried his head into your neck. Silence filled the empty corridor as Tommy stayed motionless, breathing heavily into your skin.

"Tommy?" You questioned opening your eyes, as he stood there buried deep inside you . " Tommy, move " you said desperate for friction as you held onto his broad shoulders, rocking your hips back and forth. Suddenly Tommy grabbed hold of each side of your waist stopping your movements as his eyes pierced into yours unforgivably.

" Ask nicely" he said lowly as he began to move inside you at a slow deliberate pace.

" Please, faster" you pleaded as his tongue entered your mouth, brushing against your own.

"Fuck, you feel so good" he sighed scrunching his eyes shut as his rhythm intensified. So consumed by your own gratification, you gave no thought to your husband's pleasure, you was taking what you needed from this situation, for the first time you was being selfish. Clenching yourself around him you felt the pressure building up, ready to explode.

"Shit...sweetheart, don't do that...I want this to last" Tommy moaned in response as he kissed along your neck, his chest rubbing against your breasts as he felt you tightening around him like a vice.

For a split-second you looked down at the knife on the floor. The thought of ending everything entering your mind as quickly as it left. You was in too much of a daze to take action, the satisfaction of release approaching you at rapid speed.

" Look at me Y/N " Tommy demanded as he turned your head to face him, kicking the knife away from you both. " You keep your eyes on me" he ordered as he held your flushed cheek.

" Tommy, I'm so close" you moaned as you fingers dug into his back, your cheek pressed against his.

" Then cum with me, cum with me Y/N..." Tommy groaned as you frantically nodded your head.

His forehead pressed against yours you both let go moaning into each others mouth, your name leaving his lips as you both basked in your highs. Still throbbing inside you Tommy moved his head back to look at you, and that's when you saw it. Vulnerability. It flashed across his face so quickly that you could have missed it, but it made its self known whether he wanted it to or not.

Your leg dropping from his waist, Tommy pulled out of you whilst a silence fell upon the dark corridor. Something had changed. Looking to your husband your body tensed up as you anticipated his next move, was he still angry at you?

In a soothing manner Tommy stroked up and down your arm as he gazed lovingly into your eyes.

" I'm gonna get this cleaned up" he said looking down at his arm as he pulled his trousers up from his knees " I'll um, come to bed right after, is that ok?" He questioned. Was he asking for permission? Nodding you smiled to him as he leaned in, tenderly placing a kiss to you lips.

" Alright then" he replied with a nod of his head, smiling back to you, your hand clutching tightly onto the door handle as you watched him walk down the large staircase.

Entering the bedroom you shut the door quickly as panic started to set in. What had you done? You thought to yourself as you pressed your hand to your chest, your breathing rapidly increasing as you stumbled to sit on the bed. The one thing you had over him and you gave it to him freely, the one thing he desperately yearned from you and in a moment of weakness you let him have it. He had betrayed you, he had played cruel games with you and you let him have you, you was as sick and twisted as him you concluded as you looked nervously around you. You had nothing left to bargain with, you was now completely under his will, and that's when it hit you, you had to run. You could not endure another day of his tormenting behaviour, you needed to escape before you could no longer get back the girl you was from once before. Tommy could enter the room at any moment so, in a frantic state you pulled out one of the suitcases from the wardrobe, throwing as many clothes as you could possibly fit into the small luggage. Walking over to your vanity a small box caught your eye, it was the box with the diamond bracelet Tommy had gifted you that day you saw eachother after ten years. Memories flooding back you picked it up, holding it tightly against your heart as tears fell down your face, how did your not see the signs, would you have even rejected the proposal if you did? Placing the small box within your clothes you shut the suitcase, sliding it under the bed as you then quickly jumped under the covers, your hand to your mouth as you tried to calm your breathing.

Not long after, you heard the door to the bedroom open. Sliding under the covers Tommy wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him as he placed a kiss to your shoulder.

" I love you Y/N" he said as he stroked your hair with his fingers, his body so close to yours you could feel his heart beating in his chest.

" I love you too Tommy" you replied as a tear fell down your cheek onto your pillow. You did love him, but he was no longer your Tommy, the caring boy from Watery Lane. You knew deep down he would never change, you had to go...you had to leave your childhood love behind.

In fear of awakening your husband you stayed as still as you could until his grip on you slowly loosened. It must have been close to sunrise when you eventually turned around to see Tommy sleeping peacefully beside you. A small content smile etched on his lips as he slept soundly knowing you was right next to him. Quietly slipping from the bed you got dressed, all the time watching him for any sudden movements, but he didn't wake. For the first in a long time Tommy slept deeply. Pulling a small piece of paper from your vanity you wrote down a few words before folding it in half, placing it on your silk night gown neatly folded on your side of the bed. Picking up your suitcase you walked slowly to the door as you looked back one last time, a sadness washing over you at what could have been. "Goodbye Tommy" you whispered as you closed the door, tears falling from your eyes as you looked down at your wedding ring, it was over.

Waking up, Tommy turned around reaching out for you, but as his hands moved to your side of the bed he felt nothing but emptiness. Opening his eyes Tommy sat up looking around.

" Y/N" he called out as he looked to your pillow, wondering why you was not laying beside him. Moving the cover away his eyes locked on to the small piece of paper sitting on your night gown. Opening the folded note Tommy's eyes widened in anger.

" All the Jewels and finest clothes could not make me stay. My perfume still lingers on this delicate cloth you had me wear, now your only memory of me, your only comfort. Goodbye Tommy"

Scrunching the piece paper into a ball, he enclosed the once neatly folded note into his hand. Fury overtaking his body Tommy grabbed his clothes as he stormed downstairs yelling your name.

" Y/N!" he shouted, awakening everyone in the house, as he went from room to room slamming each door as he looked for you. Coming to a stop in the foyer Tommy bent over placing his hands on his knees as he breathed in heavily. The room spinning around him he rubbed his eyes as he tried to clear the blurriness in his vision.

"FUCK!!" he yelled at the top of his voice as he threw a chair across the room in anger, the unfamiliar feeling of panic rising in his body as he tried to steady his breathing. Brushing his hands through his hair Tommy cleared his throat, straightening his posture out as he walked over to a side table in the entryway. Picking up his cap and coat, Tommy calmly placed each one on his body as he then reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out his black leather gloves.

" Get my car" he said looking to one of the servants nervously waiting by the door as Tommy placed his hands in each of the gloves, stretching his fingers out at the tightness of the leather.

" Where will you be going Sir? " the young man asked as he handed him the keys.

Reaching into his pocket Tommy pulled out a cigarette placing it between his lips as he lit a match, the flame illuminating the darkness in his eyes. Exhaling the smoke out into the crisp morning air Tommy turned to face the young man next to him, a wicked smile gracing his lips.

" I'm going on a hunt"

NEXT PART

Tag list: @litteltourtius @aesthetic0cherryblossom @swordofawriter @casa-boiardi @muhahaha303 @fmo166 @call-sign-shark @priyajoyy @pet1t3 @ifevilwhyhot @bruher @whereismymindnow

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #killing me softly #tommy shelby imagine

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taintandviolent · 1 month

Text

Drives Me Insane ; Jimmy Darling x Reader

summary: What started off as an innocent, summer picnic at the beach turned into a naughty dalliance with the one and only Jimmy Darling. 🦞 Reader is from Southern California.

word count: 2.4K words!

w a r n i n g s: SMUT, as per usual, kissing, PDA and semi-public sex (sort of), oral sex.

a/n: I just had this brainrot idea of Jimmy Darling at the beach and I had to get it down. I hope everyone enjoys this as much as I did writing and daydreaming about it!!! not beta-read.

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / written to this

Your feet kicked water up towards the dry sand as you walked, hand in hand with The Lobster Boy. Outside of the circus tent, he was as normal as every other guy. Better, in fact, than most of the guys you'd tried to go steady with. From his manners to his looks, he had you wrapped around one of his conjoined fingers. And he'd done it in only a day. To be fair, you knew that he likely did this with every girl he met in every town he travelled in, but he was sure making you feel special.

Butterflies still flapped their excited little wings in your stomach from you and Jimmy's closeness in the ocean. You two had gone out just far enough, the tips of your toes still hitting sand. He had hoisted you up out of the water each time a big wave came, gripping you firmly at the waist with his big hands. You couldn't help but laugh each time, holding on tight to the curve of his shoulders. At one point, he'd pulled you in for a kiss and wrapped both arms around you, his hands just grazing the top of your ass. You shivered and blamed the cold water.

Jimmy dropped down to the blanket, lounging happily. You towelled yourself off delicately, wicking away the crystalline drops that dotted your skin. His hair was only damp at the nape of his neck, but Jimmy didn't seem to mind his body being wet. You didn't mind it either - not after seeing the way the water glistened on his abdomen. After taking your hair out of the swimcap, you shook your head lightly, your lush curls bouncing with the motion. Thankfully, your style had maintained itself. Finally, you joined him on the blanket, stretching your legs out over the edge to dip your toes into the warm sand.

A seagull sang its shrill song above you, and you watched through squinted eyes as it flew towards the horizon, gliding over the breeze. With the sand between your red-tipped toes, the briny sea air tousling your locks, and a handsome guy by your side, you were in heaven. Everything about this felt like a movie, from the cute little picnic basket he'd brought, to the way that the sun glittered, reflecting off the waves as they crashed onto the shore. You looked over, watching Jimmy Darling as he lazily watched the sea, propping himself up on his elbows. He was still shirtless and wore a pair of yellow Catalina swim trunks that complimented the tanness of his skin beautifully. His muscles were on display for you to ogle, which you did willingly. He really was handsome; an All-American Boy with his chocolatey eyes and sugar-sweet smile.

Noticing that your attention was on him, he immediately sat up, reaching for the picnic basket. "You want a sandwich or somethin'? A soda? What can I getcha', doll?"

He was so attentive to your needs – butterflies fluttered again in your stomach at the thought. With a demure, red-lipped smile, you shook your head and with the back of your hand, brushed away the strand of hair that had blown across your face.

"No, nothing, Jimmy. I was just looking at you..." Your voice was soft, sweet, and to Jimmy, had a hint of that Southern California accent.

"Oh yea?" He asks, shifting his weight to lean closer to you. His eyes darted to your lips and with a cheeky grin, his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth, wanting to taste you.

"Yeah!" you said back, playfully stern. You pivoted your body to face his, daring him to counter you. And... He did, by dipping his head down to plant a quick kiss on your waiting lips. You tittered, delighted, licking the remnants of him off your lips.

"Mmh," he hummed, kissing you again. And again. "Mmmh! Baby! You taste like a.. like a cupcake or somethin', you know that?"

His big, strong hands roamed your body, starting at your thighs and moving up and around to the small of your back. His touch was feverish and hungry, and you watched them as they moved. He heard your breath hitch and redirected his kisses to your collarbone, suddenly hungrier. He sucked at the skin, surely leaving hickeys in his path.

"Jimmy– Jimmy!" You bowed your head, almost ducking away from him.

"Sorry, baby, I just can't keep my hands off of ya'."

"...drives me insane..." you whispered, before turning your eyes to the horizon. You were getting too turned on to think clearly, and the knot in your stomach wound tighter around itself. You wanted him. Bad.

Your eyes lifted, looking sheepishly up at the other beachy patrons as they passed, their feet leaving imprints on the sand in front of you. Some of them watched as Jimmy nuzzled into your neck, smearing hungry kisses along your skin. His hands were wrapped around you and hiding behind your back, so to most, you assumed you looked like a normal couple, happily canoodling by the seaside. You felt the sting of disapproval from some older onlookers, but the way that Jimmy was kissing and sucking on the nape of your neck was too distracting -- you couldn't find it in you to care enough to stop him a second time.

Jimmy – now Jimmy was on cloud nine. The sun was warm on his shoulders, the breeze fluffing his caramel locks, and a pretty girl was in his arms. Nothin' better in his mind. As soon as the troupe had pulled into Santa Monica, parking their caravans and setting up in an empty lot near the beach, Jimmy's radar was up. He'd heard rumours of how pretty the West Coast girls were, and after spending so much time on the East Coast, he'd been hankering to taste their sunkissed, salty skin. When he'd spotted you in line with your perfect red pout and shimmering locks, he'd made a beeline for you, schmoozing and talking about how much you were gonna' enjoy the show. He, of course, wasn't wrong and it might've been because he paid special attention to you during his musical number. Whatever the reason was, he'd asked you out on a picnic date, and much to his delight, you accepted (although perhaps a little too quickly for your liking).

"Baby," he murmured into your skin, just below your ear. The closeness sent a shiver down your spine. "Whaddya' say we go back in one of those tents and have a little fun, huh?"

You looked behind him, following his gaze. There was a row of striped changing tents near the top of the beach, some of which were unoccupied. You couldn't help but cover your mouth as a gasp escaped; what he was proposing seemed so naughty. In public? You'd never... oh, but with him? You would. You'd do anything in the world with him and all he had to do was ask.

"You promise we won't get caught?"

"I promise."

Jimmy got up first, hand extended towards you to lift you up. You took it without another thought, and after being hoisted up, he took off, running giddily towards the tents. Giggling, you followed behind Jimmy as he ran, his hands wrapped firmly around your wrist, practically dragging you up the bank.

Once you made it to the tents, you popped your head in, taking a curious peek. The rest of your body followed shortly after. There was a small stool inside, intended for people to sit on while they changed. It wouldn't be utilized for that purpose, you thought.

Jimmy stood outside the tent, casually rocking back and forth on his heels, his fingers locked behind his back. He even whistled a happy little tune until no one would suspect that he was going to pop inside with you. To any passerbys, it just looked like he was waiting for his girlfriend to exit the tent. No funny business happening there. Heck no.

When Jimmy finally ducked into the tent, he had a starved glimmer in his eyes and headed straight for you, his hands connecting to your hips. Your mouths collided, tongues wrestling each other for dominance like two horny teenagers. He took fistfuls of your breasts through the fabric of your swim top, kneading them hungrily. Abruptly, he dug underneath the elastic and tweaked your nipple, rubbing at it with his thumb. You broke the kiss to glance down. Smiled coyly. Jimmy's yellow shorts weren't doing much to hide his erection; the thin fabric had a clear outline of his quickly hardening cock, and a wet spot grew at the tip.

The sun shone through the red and white striped fabric, casting a warm, ruddy glow on Jimmy's face. You wondered if he felt at home in this miniature circus tent. "Hang on a sec, wait..." you whispered, as you reached around his back, tying the panels of fabric shut.

"You're that worried, huh?" Jimmy's hand slipped from your top.

"I don't know what kinda' freaky stuff you're into, but I don't want anyone walking in."

With a hushed tone, he replied: ,"Nobody is gonna' walk in, dollface."

He wrapped one arm around your back, pulling you tight to his hip and kissed you again. Jimmy's other hand trailed down your bare stomach until he came to the hem of your ruched shorts, where the tips of his fingers delved behind the elastic, creeping closer and closer to your folds. Once he found your slit, he slipped in between and immediately applied pressure to your clit, teasing you. You gasped, your breath hitching in your throat. Shortly after, he started drawing small circles around the bundle of nerves, hot and swelling with each passing second. Everything he did felt so good.

Feeling confident, Jimmy teased your entrance with his fingers. His deformity certainly hadn't inhibited him from gaining experience in pleasuring women. In fact, Jimmy swore up and down it made him better. Women across the US craved his conjoined fingers with all their girth and length, moaning desperately as they hit all the right spots when he fingered them.

In fear of making you scream his name, Jimmy couldn't give you the full Lobster Boy treatment - not here. He inserted just the tips of his fingers, up to the first knuckles, pumping slowly in and out. His thumb massaged your clit still, the dual stimulation sending to the skies and back again. At this rate, it wouldn't be long before you came. You were wetter than the ocean, and he loved it. Jimmy's tongue ran along his bottom lip, watching you as you writhed in his grip.

"Feel good?"

Breathlessly, you nodded. Jimmy withdrew his slick fingers from your cunt, his weighted gaze on you. He hummed in satisfaction. The dirty, wanton look in your eyes made his cock twitch.

"Baby, you wanna'....?" His eyes scanned over your pretty red lips before dropping to his groin. With one hand, Jimmy tugged his shorts down, letting out a breathy groan as his heavy cock bobbed in front of your tummy. Velvet heat pressed into your flesh, the pre-cum that oozed from the slit sliding against your stomach as he breathed. You knew what he was asking.

You sunk to your knees, settling into the shade-cooled sand. With Jimmy's cock in front of your face, you swallowed, wetting your throat. His conjoined digits wrapped around the base of it, squeezing it tightly. Your lips parted and Jimmy smiled, ready for what came next. You leaned forward, extending your tongue over your bottom lip and carefully, Jimmy slapped the tip of his dick against it. As your fingers wrapped around the shaft, he let out a throaty groan, jerking his head back. You worked it with your hand, and closed your lips around the tip of it, sucking gently. Looking up at him with those big, bright eyes, you watched Jimmy's breaths go from even to haphazard, his chest rising and falling quickly. Your tongue massaged at the underside of his cock, taking it deeper into your mouth.

You gagged softly, quietly and Jimmy clenched his teeth, feeling your throat close around his dick. It was hot and wet and strong – he swallowed again, watching you as worked. The urges were getting too strong, and the tension in his abdomen wound tighter. Without a word, Jimmy bent down and pulled you to your feet, his cock slipping wetly from your mouth. With a grunt, he yanked your shorts down just enough to expose your cunt.

"Sorry, I just... I gotta'..."

"We can't go all the way here, are you –"

"No-no, baby, we're not gonna', I just gotta' be closer to you, I'm gonna' –"

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. With his cock still wet from your mouth, Jimmy began jerking it, right into your folds. Pre-cum dripped from the slit, providing more lubrication. The tip bumped against your puffy clit over and over again and before you could stop it, the pulsing wave rushed over you. You wrapped both arms around his neck, hanging on him as your legs quivered with the powerful orgasm that shook your core. You moaned softly into his ear, riding out the sensation by grinding against his cock. With his head filled with lewd thoughts of pushing his dick deep inside your pussy, Jimmy was fast behind you, exploding over you in hot, white ropes of ecstasy.

Finally feeling like you could stand on your own again, you rested your head against his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat as it slowed. Jimmy rested his chin atop your head, panting and pet the small of your back.

"See? No one caught us." He teased. You slapped at his bicep and disconnected from him, moving around him to exit the tent. Jimmy followed behind, this time, not putting any distance between the two of you. Thankfully, no one noticed. Everyone was too busy enjoying their beach day.

Everything was as you left it, except that the blanket had blown over slightly. You toed the edge of it back into place. Jimmy approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your hips. He kissed your ear, nuzzling into you.

"You wanna' see the show again tonight, pretty baby?"

You nodded. You did. And you wanted whatever was going to happen after the show, too.

#Jimmy Darling #Jimmy Darling x reader #Jimmy Darling x you #AHS Freak Show #AHS Freakshow #American Horror Story Freak Show #myfics #jimmy darling smut

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estro-gem · 7 months

Text

Jax x Ragatha: The snake and the water spring

The Amazing Digital Circus AU: Oasis.

Author's note: I found this show by chance and I took a great liking to it! So now I did a thing, instead of studying for upcoming exams, because I love making things difficult for myself, apparently.

I have no idea what the fandom is like, but I'm playing it safe just to be... well... safe. I just loved the concept of this show so much that I couldn't help but be inspired by it! It got me thinking and I let it all out in this... thing.

I want to write more one-shot fics about the other characters and how they fit into this au too, but I don't know when I'll be able to.

WARNING! None of these characters are mine and everything mentioned and described is purely made-up fiction; inspired by works that are not my own. Nothing should be considered canon or taken seriously - we are all here to have some harmless fun! No age restrictions. I think this might be appropriate for all ages...?

Please show some love and support for Gooseworx; the creator of The Amazing Digital Circus!

I definitely butchered Gooseworx's characters by adding unnecessary 'relationship dynamics' and deviating from their original personalities. I promise that the actual show and characters are so much better than they are in my false portrayal of them.

SUMMARY:

A fanmade take on the events following Pomni's arrival and after the crew had dinner together. This is focused on Jax's point of view, but still written in the third person.

Jax confronts Ragatha after the pilot episode's 'dinner' and does his best to comfort her in a way that works for them. That's it.

Please enjoy!

THE SNAKE AND THE WATER SPRING

Jax was a desert snake.

Nothing but a cold-blooded pest that lived to find his next meal.

When one is left to die under the scorching sun, you can’t stomp on the sun for creating a desert, but you could stomp on the desert snake if it added to the pain of surviving in said desert. The Digital Realm was nothing but a desert sun – a cage with no exit and an evil with no target.

It was no secret why so many had lost their minds here.

Jax took on the role of being the snake. It was never announced or planned, but it was deemed necessary by all who came to know the realm. The inhabitants of The Amazing Digital Circus craved any sense of control; something they could hold accountable for their torment – something they could punish. A menace, parasite.

Evil with a target: Jax.

It was fun to act out while everybody went about their lives. He could unapologetically be the worst being known to man and thrive on the rage and hatred of all he had affected. If they hated him, he was fulfilling his role perfectly… and that meant they could stay sane and do their parts as he did his. Less people would be lost to insanity… and the group would grow stronger.

Everyone had a role in their system – an oasis was established, with Ragatha as the heart of the oasis; their very own water spring.

But when a new invading creature bursts into the oasis with no knowledge of this system, their system would be doomed. Pomni happened to be that invader. Everyone could collectively, yet silently agree that she was acting by her own careless devices since she arrived a few hours ago. She greedily soaked up their water source and left it barren, dry, and suffering.

Granted, Pomni didn’t know how their oasis worked, but it didn’t change the fact that she disrupted everything by showing up. She would have to catch on quickly and prove herself useful, before anyone else loses their minds.

They lost one of their own already… and they almost lost their beloved Ragatha; Jax’s equal and opposite.

Their precious water source.

Snakes offered venom, while water springs offered hope of life. They all desperately needed Ragatha to survive. While most would assume her to be fine after being fixed by Caine, Jax knew better than that. He saw her reluctantly stand aside Pomni to support her – beautifully acting within her role as she always would, but it was clear that Pomni still didn’t understand how scarce the water was by then. Rags was spread thin enough by handling the extra stress and enduring the continuous pain of being corrupted by the abstraction, but that didn’t stop Pomni from practically having a mental breakdown at the dinner table.

Jax saw that coming from a mile away. Thank goodness he silently took the open seat next to Pomni, silent in his insistence that the ragdoll should keep her distance for the time being. He’d give anything to destroy the little jester for abusing his doll. Ragatha was acting perfectly normal at the time – her masked smile perfectly set on her face – until it was time for them all to retire to their respective bedrooms.

Jax wished that he would’ve just dragged her after him when he booked it from the abstraction earlier today. Pomni would have been the perfect distraction for them to escape and get Caine.

He stood at Ragatha’s door after dinner.

Jax made a point to ring the doorbell this time. Usually, he’d just pluck out a key and saunter in like he owns the place, but with what happened today, he’d make an exception. Everyone has their limit – and someone has already reached their limit today. They couldn’t risk losing another one. Especially not Raggs. They all really needed her.

When she didn’t open, he tried the bell again. Nothing.

Well, time for the key, then.

He shoved his hand down his front pocket and fished out the doll’s room key. The bunny didn’t waste time opening the door. He wanted to see what state the girl was in, despite dreading the possibility of finding an abstracted amalgamation on the other side.

Silence.

Not even a creak was heard from the hallway. The room was lit up as it usually was, so that was a good sign, at least. Jax couldn’t see an obvious black body of eyes – another win. But where was Ragatha? He did see her walk into her room, so she had to be here.

He walked around, keeping his cool, casual composure fixed, despite no one being around. It was effortless at this point. It became a way for him to focus on what he could control in this crazy digital prison; himself.

He couldn’t, however, control his ability to spot a blasted ragdoll, it would seem. He scanned the room again, until his eyes fell on her ¾ bed. Could she-?

The bunny rolled his eyes at himself as he lowered himself onto his knees – maybe he could convince himself that he was not phased by the situation. Bending down, he peered beneath the bed frame.

Jax sighed in exasperation. Or was it relief? Both?

Ragatha was in the state she was in before retiring to her room. No gliching, no extra eyes.

Just Raggs.

She didn’t look good, though. The doll was curled up beneath her bed and blindly staring ahead of her. It didn’t look like she was breathing – not that they needed to anyway, but it was uncanny to see Rags like this. She was their voice of reason. She was a water spring in this desert.

If she dried up, their desert would be doomed.

Jax silently stood up and walked back to the open door again. No need to make a fuss over this. He took hold of the door handle and shut it from the inside. Key in hand, he locked the door and nodded to himself. Ragatha needed a raincloud… and he’d have to fill that role now. It’s the least he could do after leaving her to fend for herself when they found the abstraction today.

Why didn’t she run with him? Why did think she could fix someone whose mind was broken beyond repair? Why didn’t she just leave the rookie as bait?

Because that just wasn’t her role, was it?

If it weren’t for her nature – her role – none of them would have made it this far. It dawned on Jax, once again, how close they were to losing their beloved doll. How close they were to being stuck with an invader who knew nothing about what it took to survive in this hell hole.

Enough.

Back to the bed, crouched down and silent Jax positioned himself to lay down and simply look over the red head from a relative distance. There was enough space for the doll to crawl out of hiding without having to touch him. The bunny still hadn’t said a word. It’d be stupid to talk, and he didn’t feel like making the effort. He just wanted things back to normal again – well… as normal as it could have been.

Now Kaufmo is gone, a new creature was invading their home, tearing it up from the roots and tipping the delicate scales of the balance they worked very hard on creating. All because of a lunatic ringmaster having the bright idea of creating a fake exit-door. Someone better get that jester on a tight leash to get her to fall in line, like the rest of them were forced to.

He knew he, for one, wouldn’t mind roughing her up a bit. It was his specialty – his role. The parasite. The menace. The instigator.

Evil with an actual target.

The sound of shifting and movement had Jax blink out of his own head. Ragatha was slowly and dumbly making her way out from under her bed. Her eyes were still fogged over and her face still eerily blank, but at least she came out of hiding out of her own will. In a matter of seconds, the doll was out from her hiding place and settled on the floor beside Jax. She was staring him in the eyes now, waiting for the bunny, silently pleading.

Jax hadn’t had his aloof-douchebag persona engaged since he locked Ragatha’s door. She didn’t need a menace now – she needed to be grounded; revitalized. She needed a dark raincloud to fill up the water spring they all needed.

He didn’t look forward to what needed to be done, but he wouldn’t allow anyone else to do it.

He moved to stand up and held out a hand to help her up. He took note of the way her hand was shaking when she took his and gently guided her to the bed. The red head was the first to sit, then moved to lay down on her back and numbly stare at the ceiling. With a deep breath, Jax gathered himself mentally and cautiously crept onto the bed and positioned himself to briefly hover over her, before lowering his full weight onto Ragatha.

He had his head in the crook of her neck, on the left shoulder with his ears folding back to floppily droop to his upper back… with his left hand resting on the opposite shoulder. His body, although slim, enveloped hers and caused her to sink slightly into the mattress. His legs just loosely laid over and aside the ragdoll’s. It was more important to have his weight resting on her torso anyway.

For a long moment, they just motionlessly laid on the bed like this. To an outsider, it would look like they fell asleep atop each other or simply cuddled together very closely.

An outsider wouldn’t see that Jax was focused on the slow process of Ragatha’s body relaxing under his weight and her breathing slowing to a regular rhythm. An outsider wouldn’t have known that this was hardly the first time they’d done this – how long it took Jax to learn that this make-shift deep-pressure therapy was the most effective grounding technique for Ragatha to collect herself again.

They wouldn’t understand that Jax didn’t do this out of wanting to, but rather out of necessity.

Jax didn’t like to be touched. If anything, he was very capable of merely tolerating it. Everyone in the circus knew that he was touch-averse; some even used that as leverage to mess with him if the situation called for it. It was a necessity that he endured to keep his doll sane – to keep anyone of importance here in the circus, sane. Their whole lives revolved around mental strength. It was all just a matter of staying sane.

The laid there for what felt like a lifetime.

Slight shifting beside Jax alerted him that the doll was moving her arms – previously stiffly pinned to her sides. This was good, she felt comfortable enough to move around now!

Her left hand gently snaked up to the bunny’s head and slowly, softly petted his ears in a longitude motion. Her right hand wrapped loosely around his middle-to-lower back – motionless. This was bad, Jax did not like being touched like that!

While he was fine with the rhythmic touches of Ragatha’s left hand, he despised the idle position of the right hand resting on his back. He couldn’t prevent himself from tensing up in discomfort.

Bad touch, bad touch, bad-

This caused the ragdoll to tense up and rip her hands off him as if he burned her.

Oh no you don’t! We are not starting all over again.

He slowly pulls away and propped up unto his elbows, hearing Ragatha’s breathing pick up as she presumably spirals into her own thoughts on how he was going to leave her like this. Jax cast down a disapproving look. He broke his gaze to unceremoniously take her right hand – now clutched close to her chest – and intertwined their fingers, before resting his head on her left shoulder once again. He close eyes as he use his free hand to put her left hand on his head again, waiting for her to resume her petting.

Good touch; this was a good touch. Please understand.

Thankfully, Ragatha relaxed… and continued her previous slow, rhythmic motions. Slowly, Jax felt her relax once again and he indulged into her need for touch by stroking his thumb over hers occasionally.

Soon they fell into a rhythm; Ragatha would pet Jax’s ears 3 times, then it was his turn to stroke his thumb over hers. Then they would repeat the routine. This also helped Jax cope with the touching; the routine. The rhythm.

It felt like hours ticked by as the two just practiced their little unspoken routine. Jax grew used to it after a while, almost forgetting that his new mattress was now a sentient ragdoll and completely tuned into their rhythm of touches.

Pet… pet… pet… thumb. Pet… pet… pet… thumb.

Jax didn’t like touch, but he loved routine.

The doll and the bunny’s time together, once nothing but grounding techniques, grew to become an intimate exchange of touches and caresses – all wrapped in a routine, like a dance. Jax felt warm and fuzzy inside; for once he basked in the moment of enjoying his dolly. He lazily wondered if Ragatha felt the same. He shifted his head to look at her.

The doll looked down to meet his eyes when she felt him move. He could swear that she looked at peace, basking in the bliss of their closeness. For some reason, she looked like an angel. They all saw her as their angel. Had he successfully pinned a heavenly body beneath him?

Her gentle, longing gaze made a kaleidoscope of butterflies erupt from his core.

This wasn’t the first time this feeling invaded his being when they did this – as rare as these moments were. He wasn’t sure when he started experiencing such feelings during these rare encounters, but as months crawled by, he felt drawn to his dolly more and more. Based on how she looked at him, he could only assume that she felt it too.

Something so foreign, yet so familiar.

He didn’t fail to spot the warmth rushing to her cheeks when their eyes met. She looked so ethereal beneath him, especially when her breathing picked up under his firm gaze. Her lips were parted, and her eyes were lidded. This time, it wasn’t fear or overstimulation. It was anticipation. It was desire.

Jax internally flinched at the tingly sensation when he smoothly burrowed his face into Ragatha’s neck. She shivered at the breath he let out against her skin. He could tolerate the touching a little longer, as long as he could see her crumble again. He wanted to see her walls crumble again.

“Jax- ”

Oh… he had to hear her again. More clearly, next time. This was torture, but she made him into her own personal masochist. His skin crawled at the sensation of her skin shivering against him, but he needed more. He could take it. Just a little longer – he just had to stand these sensations a little longer. He looked at her again.

Ragatha was reverting to a helpless puddle. The doll’s arms were gripping at the covers beneath her, successfully eliminating the bother of excessive contact that he despised. Jax didn’t know if she did it with that intension or without thinking, but either way, he was thankful. He really wanted more.

Why couldn’t he just be normal?

He lifted onto his elbows again and – dare one say – lovingly looked at her face. She could only peek back at him, breathing slightly faster than usual. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shaky hand rise from the covers and hover next to his cheek, while her eyes pleaded for his mercy. He hesitated but bit the bullet to comply; leaning into her touch while desperately trying to ignore the odd tingles. Jax convinced himself to kiss her wrist and drowned himself in the pleasure of hearing her softly call his name.

He only heard it because he was listening so closely for it.

Yes.

DING DONG

In a flash, Jax braced himself up into a crouch and slammed his foot down with a mighty THUMP upon hearing Ragatha startle into a fit when the doorbell chimed. His hair on his back stood on end and his claws ripped through his gloves, leaving gouges in the covers beside the doll’s head.

His precious doll was disturbed again!

He heard her soft cry of fear and his blood boiled with a thirst for vengeance. Only he can make her cry out. He’ll skin the soul that dared to-

“Ragatha…? Can we talk?”

That DAMN jester!

“Jax?” a quiet voice trembled in his ear from beneath him. Jax stopped glaring at the door to softly glance down and see what his little doll wanted.

“Don’t…” Raggs sounded like she was begging while being held at gunpoint, whispering despite their rooms being enchanted to not hear anything from the outside when the door is shut.

Jax wouldn’t dare let that thing inside. Raggs was upset enough as it is.

“Look, I know it probably wouldn’t make a difference…” Pomni’s voice came from the other side door again, “…but I’m so sorry for running off… Again… I saw that exit and I had to see if it was real. No one else believed me and I started to think that I was losing my mind. You understand that, right?”

Jax placed both his hands down on the mattress, blocking the doll’s view of the door as if it could block the sound of the voice from reaching the Raggs’s ears, still hovering over her. He knew that his dolly didn’t want to hear anything the harlequin had to say now – he had half the mind to get up and bash the newbie’s head in.

“I hope we can talk about this some time. You are probably tired after such a long, crazy day.” Pomni’s voice died down near the end, “It feels like you’re the only good person here.”

She really is, but she’s too good for you. Selfish leech.

Jax looks down to the girl, still stiff as a board beneath him. Her eye was shiny with the swell of tears. He melted at the sight – anger simmering down. She was just a sweet little rag dolly, she didn’t deserve any of this, but oh, he was so happy to see Ragatha finally emote something again. She was OK again. Their water source was filled once again, now threatening to spill over. He’d happily welcome the flood.

He needed her.

The sound of fading footsteps causes Jax to rip his eyes to the direction of the door. His hearing was better than the dolls, probably thanks to being a rabbit.

Good riddance.

Ragatha seemed to relax at the sight of Jax deflating his stance, reading that Pomni probably left her door. She hesitantly reached up to cup Jax’s cheek. Jax followed her hand’s motion and scoffed, cringing at the invasion. He’s had enough touching for a week. It sucked to leave his doll so soon after being distressed again, but he couldn’t bring himself stand any more of this. He quickly got up and smoothed out his clothes, but not without missing the flash of hurt in the doll’s eyes. He felt bad, but he had to be strong with the new girl around, so straining himself now would only make matters worse and mess up the whole system.

Still, seemingly bored, Jax stood in his spot while rocking on his heels and looking off to the side, only sparing her a glance. Raggs sat up by then. She looked a little worse for wear, but it’s an improvement from hiding under her bed. She rested her elbows on her knees with her chin in her hands. The hurt in her eyes was long gone, but she looked tired. Poor thing, Jax shared the sentiment.

He felt her eye bore into the side of his face and the bunny couldn’t stop himself before he rolled his eyes and looked to her again. He could’ve choked on air when he saw her face, but the years of steeling his demeanor left no trace of his inner turmoil.

Raggs sported that longing look in her eyes again.

They were so close this time – closer than they’ve ever been before. Each time they spent together on nights like this, although few and far between, they grew closer… and hungrier. Neither understood what it was, but they never had the chance to just collapse into it, tonight being the closest to that.

But there was always something, right?

Jax allowed gaze to soften. His doll offered a small smile that almost ripped his heart out if his chest. It was drenched with melancholy of something she knew they could never have.

Because their roles in their little ecosystem didn’t allow for it to ever be theirs. It would never work.

This was survival.

The rabbit steeled his demeanor once again, but this time, his doll’s face didn’t fall.

Good, as it should be.

Jax walked to the door and fished out the key from his front pocket. He didn’t bother looking back. If he did, he wouldn’t have the will to leave anymore. When he opened the door, though, he couldn’t help but mumble out teasingly.

“See yah later, Doll~!”

He wished that he could shout his affections for her out into the void instead.

“I’m not your doll.” Ragatha responded, voice still wobbly and tired, but perky regardless. She knew just how to indulge him.

Yes, she is… she always will be.

Fanart: Evil with a target

Oasis: TADC AU list

Masterlist

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