#they have an initiation to get an ear piercing
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The Legend~
Childe(Ajax) x F. Reader (angst)
A/n: you guys…it is 4 in the morning and I have not slept yet🥲✌️ but I hope you all enjoy this chapter and story. I really had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you have fun reading! But enough of me talking, let’s get onto the reading! Thank you again and have a great day/night my lovelies🥰🥰
As I strolled down the sidewalk, anticipation bubbled within me for yet another mission with Ajax. Despite the short notice, my excitement overshadowed any inconvenience. Ajax’s enthusiasm for my company mirrored my own, filling me with a warm sense of camaraderie. I had initially planned to spend time with Jean, but when I explained the situation, she graciously understood.
She playfully teased me about Ajax, insinuating a romantic connection that wasn’t there. Despite my protests, she persisted with a knowing smirk, leaving me flustered but amused.
——
“Okay, well when you get back, you and I are going to have a girls day out.” Jean said, a smirk coming to her face.
“And…try not to have too much fun with that boyfriend of yours.” She teased, making your face heat up
“Shut up, Jean. He’s not my boyfriend…we are just friends!” You retorted.
She just chuckled in disbelief.
“Yeah, okay. Just friends…we will stick with that for now.”
——
"Now, you were just moments away from Ajax. Moments away from the man who enveloped you in warmth and joy, who effortlessly brought laughter to your lips when you needed it most. Your heart fluttered with anticipation as his familiar, comforting voice reached your ears. With a quickened pace, you approached, a smile spreading across your face at the sight of his tousled hair.
However, as you finally reached him, your joy faltered at the presence of another girl – the infamous traveler, Lumine.
"Oh, n/n! I thought I had told you... I guess I forgot in the midst of everything," Ajax said, his smile directed towards Lumine.
"Tell me what?" you inquired, a knot forming in your stomach.
"Well... I actually don't need you for this mission this week. Lumine offered to help, and I couldn't refuse. She's quite renowned around here. So, you're free to do whatever you want!" Ajax's words stung, a pang of hurt piercing your chest. Despite years of fighting alongside him, you couldn't shake the feeling of being second choice. Yet, you managed to mask your disappointment with a forced acceptance.
"O-Oh... well, alright. If you'd rather go with her, then I suppose it's an opportunity for me to rest," you replied, attempting to quell the rising jealousy within you.
Ajax's smile and pat on your shoulder did little to ease the sting. "Thanks, y/n! I knew you'd understand! I'll catch up with you another time. How about joining me on my next mission? Next week?" he proposed.
Your smile returned, though tinged with a hint of sadness. "Sure! I'd love that."
"Great! See you then! Take care, n/n!" With that, Ajax departed with Lumine, leaving you with a fading smile and a heavy heart.
As they disappeared from view, your once-wide smile faded into a solemn frown. With a soft sigh, you turned on your heel, making your way back to Jean to relay what had transpired."
*****
"He did what!?" Jean's voice rang out with fury, her fists slamming onto the table. You couldn't help but widen your eyes, taken aback by Jean's uncharacteristic outburst.
"Jean, calm down. It's really not a big deal," you attempted to reassure her, though her agitation was palpable.
"No! He stood you up! Left you in the dust to be with that girl!" Jean's frustration boiled over, her tone laced with indignation.
"Lumine," you interjected softly, trying to bring a semblance of reason to the conversation.
"I don't care what her name is! What matters is that he abandoned my best friend," Jean retorted, her frustration evident in every word.
"Jean, please. He promised we can go another time. He even suggested I join him on his next mission," you explained, hoping to quell her anger.
"And you believe him? After what he did just now?" Jean's skepticism was palpable, her doubt weighing heavily in the air.
"Well... yeah," you replied hesitantly, feeling a pang of uncertainty.
Jean scoffed, turning away from you in frustration. "He made a mistake, Jean! I'm sure he didn't mean to. He just—" you started, attempting to defend Ajax.
"No. Don't make excuses for him. He's not a child anymore. Anyone with an ounce of decency would have known better," Jean interrupted, her voice tinged with disappointment.
You sighed, watching as Jean composed herself. "Sorry... it's just... I hate seeing you hurt. You're like the sister I never had. And when someone hurts someone close to me, I just... lose it," Jean confessed, her anger subsiding into a softer tone.
"I understand, Jean... but give him another chance. I truly believe this is just a one-time thing. He won't do it again. I know it," you reassured her, offering a small smile.
Jean looked away, lost in thought for a moment. After a deep breath, she relented. "Okay. If you trust him, then I guess I should too," she conceded with a smile.
"Good. Now, enough about him. Let's go get something to eat. I'm starving!" you suggested, pulling her out of her chair.
"You read my mind," Jean replied with a giggle, the tension between you gradually dissipating as you turned your attention to more pleasant matters.
*****
I woke up with excitement once again. Today was the day! The day I get to hang out with Ajax and go on an adventure with him for the weekend! I quickly got out of bed, took a shower, and got ready.
I grabbed my sword and ran out of the house, not wasting a minute. I scurried around people, finding my way to Ajax’s and our meetup spot—a lonely little area just outside Mondstadt. It took me a good 30 minutes to get there, but I made it just on time. And there he was, waiting... but again... he was not alone.
"Hey Ajax! I’m here!" I said, my smile faltering just a bit as I, once again, saw Lumine.
“Oh… hey n/n… hey listen-“ He started, but I cut him off.
“Are you ditching me again?” My voice quieted a bit, betraying my disappointment.
He looked away from me, avoiding my saddened eyes. “Look, y/n. This is a really tough mission… and it requires someone with a lot of strength and skill-“
“Are you saying I don’t have those?” I interjected, hurt evident in my tone.
“No! Not at all… but you don’t exactly have any… abilities… visions if you will. Lumine here does,” he explained, his words feeling like a blow to my heart.
“Oh…” I could barely muster a response, my disappointment weighing heavily on me.
“Look, n/n… I just don’t want you to get hurt. That’s all!” He tried to defend himself.
I looked up at him and nodded. “It’s okay, Ajax. I understand. I appreciate that you care for me that way. I’ll just see you next time. Maybe we could just hang out when you get back?” I suggested, trying to hide my disappointment.
“Well… Lumine and I were actually going to go out after our mission,” he added, crushing my hopes even further.
“Out?” I repeated, the disappointment evident in my voice.
“Yeah! You know, hang out for a bit. Show her around town and all that.”
“Oh. Okay. Well then how about the wee-“ I started, but he cut me off.
“How about I just contact you when I’m available? That way we can spend all day together! Does that sound good?” He asked, making me nod weakly.
“Y-Yeah. Sure!” I forced a smile, attempting to mask my disappointment.
He then placed his hand on my head. “Thanks for being so cooperative with me, n/n. I appreciate it.”
“Of course!” I replied, forcing cheerfulness into my tone.
“Well, we had better get going then. See ya later, n/n!” He yelled, grabbing Lumine's hand and running away.
I went back home, spending the rest of my day there. I didn’t tell Jean though. I just told her I was called on another trip that was more important.
******
As you lay in bed, tears streaming down your face, you couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal and inadequacy. Did Ajax really think you were too weak to fight alongside him? Despite not having a vision, you had proven yourself countless times in battle, standing shoulder to shoulder with Ajax against formidable foes. Yet, his actions spoke volumes, leaving you questioning your worth as a fighter and as a friend.
The presence of Lumine only exacerbated your turmoil. While everyone seemed enamored by her, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered whenever she was around. It was as if she held secrets, hidden behind her flawless facade. Perhaps it was just your own insecurities magnified by the situation with Ajax, but the doubt gnawed at you relentlessly.
With a heavy heart, you turned over in bed, unable to find solace in sleep. The events of the day replayed in your mind, tormenting you with thoughts of what could have been. Yet, despite the pain and uncertainty, you resolved to let it go, at least for the night. Dwelling on it further would only serve to deepen the wounds already inflicted.
Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, willing yourself to find peace amidst the chaos. Tomorrow was a new day, and with it, the possibility of clarity and resolution. For now, all you could do was surrender to the embrace of sleep, hoping that the morning would bring a sense of renewal and understanding.
*******
Months had passed since Ajax reached out to you. What’s worse is that he had been spending all of that time with Lumine. You want to speak with him? Sorry, he’s busy talking with Lumine. You want to spar with him? No chance, as he is already with Lumine. You want to hangout, even if it's just for a few minutes? No can do missy. He can’t waste any time now that he's hanging out with Lumine.
He was really getting on your nerves. He sometimes acted like you didn’t even exist to him and just straight up ignored you.
You had been so understanding with him, very fluid even.
You reached out to him today to see if he could hang out with you, but again, he denied. He said he had to babysit his little brother, who you knew very well as you had been his training teacher.
Unfortunately, as you were walking down the streets of Mondstat, you managed to see him and Lumine together…again.
The anger that simmered beneath the surface threatened to boil over as you realized Ajax had once again brushed you aside, opting to spend his time with Lumine instead.
With each rejection, each snub, Ajax's actions chipped away at your patience and understanding. How could he treat you this way after all you had been through together? The hurt and betrayal gnawed at your heart, fueling the fire of resentment that burned within you.
Finally reaching your breaking point, you confronted Ajax, your voice cutting through the air like a blade.
“Ajax!” You yelled, catching his and everyone else’s attention.
He was chuckling with Lumine, his arm wrapped around her.
Your suspicions had been confirmed about them…they had finally become a couple…just like that.
You felt hurt, angry, and sad.
When Ajax heard your voice, he turned with fear in his eyes as he realized he had been caught.
“N/n! W-What are you-“
*smack*
Everyone gasped as you slapped Ajax across the face. He looked at you with shock written all over his face
Tears were welling up in your eyes
“How could you!?”
He just stared down at you with confusion
“How could you just lie to me? Is that what you've been doing all this time? You’ve been lying to me? So you can be with her?!” You yelled as short sobs came out of your mouth.
“N/n…I-“
“Don’t ‘n/n’ me.” You interrupted
“After all these years, a girl suddenly comes in and just makes you change how you treat me!? For months, I have been nothing but understanding towards you! I even missed out on big events just to hang out with you, only to be turned down by you…even though you were the one who ‘promised’ to be with me on another occasion! Just so you could be with a girl you barely even know! She could be an enemy for all we know” You lashed out. Suddenly, Diluc and Kaeya came out to stop you. Ajax's attempts to explain fell on deaf ears as your anger boiled over, drowning out any semblance of reason. The intervention of Diluc and Kaeya was a distant echo in the chaos of your fury as you pushed them away, unwilling to be restrained.
In that moment, all you could see was the betrayal etched on Ajax's face, a painful reminder of the shattered trust that lay between you. As the crowd murmured in hushed tones around you, you stood there, raw and vulnerable, grappling with the wreckage of a friendship torn asunder.
"Get off of me!" you yelled at them, your voice trembling with rage and hurt.
They hesitated for a moment, exchanging uncertain glances, but ultimately stepped back, allowing you to confront Ajax without interference.
Ajax stood before you, shock still etched on his features, his hand reaching up to touch the reddening imprint of your slap on his cheek.
"N/n, I... I didn't mean to..." he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.
"Don't you dare try to justify this," you spat, your voice thick with emotion. "You've been lying to me, Ajax. Sneaking around with her behind my back, making excuses, ignoring me... Do you have any idea how that feels?"
"I-I didn't want to hurt you, n/n," Ajax stammered, desperation creeping into his voice. "I just... Lumine and I, we... it's complicated."
"Complicated? Complicated doesn't give you the right to treat me like I'm nothing," you shot back, tears now streaming down your cheeks unchecked. "You've been my partner, my friend for years, and now you throw it all away for some girl you barely know?"
Ajax opened his mouth to respond.
”Lumine is not just some girl! She’s special and she has done so much for our community!” He yelled back, growing frustrated with you.
"I don't want to hear it," you said, your voice cracking with emotion. "I trusted you, Ajax. I believed in you. And you've betrayed that trust in the worst possible way."
You stopped suddenly when you heard whispers going around you.
“Is she insane? Lumine could never hurt us!”
“She must be drunk.”
“She has no rights speaking that way of Lumine when she has done nothing for us.”
The murmurs around you cut deep, each word like a dagger to your wounded heart. But it was Ajax’s words that truly shattered your world. As he approached, his glare intensified, his voice laced with anger and disdain.
“You should leave,” he spat, his tone harsh and unforgiving. “Before you make everyone else mad. The way you speak about Lumine is unforgiving and unjust! You have no right to talk about her when you don’t even know who she truly is”
Your own anger surged in response. “Me!? What about you!?” you shot back, your voice trembling with emotion.
But Ajax’s response was like a final blow, leaving you reeling. “Enough! Go…you have done enough damage already. You have no right to talk about her like that, especially when she has done way more for this place than you ever have! All you can do is fight with a steel sword! You don’t even have a vision! Compared to her, you are nothing! A nobody!.”
His words pierced through you, leaving you feeling small and insignificant. The hatred in his eyes was like a knife to your heart, each word a painful reminder of the bond you thought you shared.
You looked around and saw everyone stare at you with the same look, even Diluc and Kaeya.
Tears welled up in your eyes again as you felt the sting of betrayal deep within your chest. Fine. If that’s what they want, then that’s what they’ll get.
You left the vicinity, tears streaming down your face, each step heavy with the weight of disappointment and hurt. Returning home, you collapsed onto your bed, your emotions a tumultuous storm raging within you.
******
Gazing at the picture of you and Ajax, memories of happier times flooded your mind. But now, those moments felt like distant echoes of a past that could never be reclaimed. With a surge of anger, you snatched the frame and hurled it to the ground, the glass shattering into a thousand shards mirroring the brokenness of your heart.
As you stared at the ruined photograph, Ajax's words echoed in your mind like a cruel mantra. "You have no right speaking about Lumine like that… you don’t even have a vision like her. You are nothing."
Curling up into a ball, you surrendered to the overwhelming wave of sorrow, your sobs echoing in the empty room. The pain of rejection and abandonment was almost too much to bear, leaving you feeling utterly alone and powerless.
Exhausted from the emotional turmoil, you drifted into a fitful sleep on the cold floor, your dreams haunted by echoes of lost friendships and shattered illusions.
*******
The next morning dawned with a pounding headache, a harsh reminder of the pain you couldn't escape. With a groan, you struggled to rise from your makeshift bed and stumbled to the sink, seeking solace in the promise of relief.
But as you opened the door, hope flickered within you at the sight of a note lying on your doorstep. Rushing forward, you eagerly seized it, praying for a sign of reconciliation from Ajax.
However, your hopes were swiftly dashed as you read the contents of the letter, each word like a dagger to your wounded spirit. It was a scathing rebuke from an anonymous sender, condemning you for your actions and branding you an embarrassment.
With a heavy heart, you crumpled the note in your hand, the weight of shame and rejection bearing down on you once more.
You saw a couple more next to your door, all the same types of letters. All of them belittling you for being worthless compared to Lumine or Ajax.
You crumpled up the papers and tossed them into the crackling fire, watching as they turned to ash before your eyes. But one stubborn piece refused to burn, its edges kissed by the flames but remaining untouched by their destructive force. Puzzled, you tried to push it deeper into the fire, but it stubbornly resisted, glowing with a strange golden light.
Frowning, you retrieved the unburnt paper from the fire, feeling its coolness against your fingertips. As you unfolded it, you were greeted by a mysterious emblem and a cryptic message, signed "L.E."
“Meet me in the forest near the old abandoned house you used to go to. There are some things we must discuss.”
Intrigued but skeptical, you dismissed it as junk and tore it up, tossing the pieces onto your table.
However, to your astonishment, the torn paper remained intact, defying the laws of nature. You couldn't help but feel a shiver of unease creeping down your spine as you approached the inexplicable phenomenon.
With a mixture of disbelief and curiosity, you read the message again, finding new words written elegantly on the paper, urging you to stop trying to destroy it and come talk to this mysterious figure named L.E.
Skeptical yet intrigued, you chuckled to yourself at the absurdity of the situation. Were you seriously considering meeting a stranger in the forest based on a bizarre message? Despite your doubts, a nagging feeling urged you to investigate further, curiosity tugging at your resolve.
…
…
Eh, why not. You’ve got nothing else to lose.
You folded the paper and stuffed it in your shoe, making sure it didn’t escape. You grabbed a new set of clothes and changed into them, grabbing a bag and a sword just in case. You looked back at your house and sighed
“Well, this might be it, big guy. Thanks for keeping me warm and safe. Hopefully you’ll do the same for another person.” You said as you went on your way.
You weren’t sure where this was going to go, but a part of you was excited to finally get out and explore…even if it meant endangering your life.
-time skip-
After a trek of about an hour, you arrived at the designated area, encountering minimal obstacles along the way. As you waited by the old house, anticipation building with each passing minute, you scanned the surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of your mysterious correspondent.
“I see you got my note,” a feminine voice cut through the silence, startling you. Reflexively, you drew your sword, ready to confront the unseen presence behind you, only to find yourself instantly thwarted.
Your eyes widened in disbelief as you beheld an older woman effortlessly holding your weapon with just two fingers.
“That’s quite enough of that, my dear. Your weapons pale in comparison to my abilities,” she declared with an air of authority.
“Who are you? And what do you want from me?” you inquired, your voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
She chuckled softly. “Straight to the point, just like your ancestor, Atlas.”
“What?” you queried, your confusion mounting. She regarded you with a quizzical expression.
“You mean to tell me you don’t know who I am?” she asked incredulously.
You shook your head at her question about your knowledge of your family history.
“Oh dear…your parents must not have taught you anything then…especially not about your family history. Well, I guess I’ll have to fill you in. But first, let’s relax with some tea. It’s quite soothing,” she suggested, conjuring a teapot out of thin air and pouring a warm, fragrant brew into a cup.
“How did you-“
“Tea first, questions later,” she interrupted gently, offering you a cup.
You hesitated, but her calm demeanor put you at ease, so you decided to take a sip. The tea was surprisingly delightful, its smooth flavor calming your nerves.
“Nice, isn’t it?” she remarked with a soft smile.
“Very…” you agreed, taking another sip.
“Now, let’s talk about why I’ve asked you here,” she continued, pouring more tea into your cup before launching into her tale.
“My name is Lady Eleanor. And I'm here to be your guide.”
“Guide? For what?” you inquired, taking another sip of the soothing tea.
“For your destiny, my dear,” she replied, her tone serious but kind.
“Destiny? What do you mean?” you asked, intrigued.
“You, my dear y/n, have a significant role to play,” she explained.
“Role? What role?” you pressed, feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
“You are meant to become the next guardian of a powerful force,” she revealed.
“Guardian? Of what?” you questioned, trying to grasp the magnitude of her words.
“For a unique and potent element,” she answered cryptically.
You sat in silence, absorbing her words and contemplating their implications, as she began to unravel the ancient history of your lineage and its connection to a remarkable element created thousands of years ago.
“Let me take you back to ancient times, nearly 30,000 years ago, when your ancestors forged a rare and powerful element. Among them were seven siblings, each endowed with a unique elemental vision. Scarlett wielded the fiery pyro vision, Evelyn mastered the Anemo vision, and Willow possessed the aqueous hydro vision. Ezra commanded the earthy geo vision, Axel harnessed the electric power of electro, Rowan controlled the frosty Cryo, and Atlas, the youngest and bravest, was attuned to the verdant Dendro.” She began
“Together, these siblings maintained harmony in the world, training others to wield elemental powers and fostering a utopian society. They worked in harmony, each contributing their elemental gifts to sustain peace and stability. In times of cold, the pyro wielders brought warmth, while hydro wielders nurtured the land with water in times of drought.”
“But envy and malice lurked in the heart of one man, Elias. Fueled by jealousy, he sought to claim the siblings' accolades for himself. Learning the secrets of pyro, hydro, and geo, he launched a devastating assault on the siblings, systematically defeating all but one.”
I stared at her, intrigued in all of this new information.
“Atlas, determined to protect his kin, merged the remaining visions, unwittingly creating a new element—Light. This act of courage and sacrifice marked the dawn of a new era, as evidenced by the emblem you received in the letter from me.”
She finished.
“This is the Light element, the pinnacle of elemental power. Atlas wielded it to not only control light but also to command the other elements, a feat that saved the world from certain chaos and destruction. Elias, his adversary, stood no chance against such unimaginable power. After his heroic deed, Atlas was revered as the almighty Archon, worshiped by all, though he sought only to protect and defend against evil. His lifespan extended significantly due to his newfound abilities, allowing him to safeguard humanity for centuries.”
"Centuries? Really?" You asked incredulously.
"Indeed," Lady Eleanor confirmed. "His descendants inherited this gift, passing it down through generations. But after the 10th host, the pattern ceased. The desire for the Light element waned, and subsequent hosts failed to master the seven elements. Now, you, y/n, have the opportunity to revive this legacy, to honor your ancestors and make a difference."
You were stunned by her words, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of such a monumental task. "Learning all seven elements!? It’s hard enough learning just one! I can’t do that!" you protested.
Lady Eleanor scoffed at your hesitation. "Of course, you can! Your ancestors did it, so why can't you?"
You faltered, struggling to find a rebuttal. "I...because...you..."
"No excuses. We must start training before it's too late," she insisted, gently nudging you forward.
"Too late?" You echoed, feeling a mixture of apprehension and determination settling in.
She turned to you with a grim expression.
"Every 1000 years, a new host is chosen... but that's because Elias' darkness resurfaces every millennium. Hence, these past millennia have been so tumultuous."
"I thought you said Elias was defeated!?" you interjected.
"He was defeated... but not his darkness," Lady Eleanor clarified. "You see, when a wielder uses their abilities for evil, their minds become corrupted by the elements. It's a matter of being one with the elements, using them for good, or being consumed by them. Elias, in his pursuit of power, created a new element—darkness. His malevolent magic endured beyond his demise, choosing a new host every 1000 years and taking control of their mind. And with each passing millennium, it grows stronger. This darkness drives people to commit unspeakable acts, and if it were to overpower the light element... well, the consequences would be catastrophic."
"But what about the 11th, 12th, 13th, and 14th hosts? Didn't the darkness defeat them?" you inquired, but she shook her head.
"For the darkness to truly triumph, it must vanquish the light element physically. As there hasn't been a true light elemental host in millennia, the darkness hasn't had the chance to prevail. However, with you as the new firstborn of the l/n family, you're the chosen one to confront this darkness. But we must commence your training now, before it's too late. The darkness typically doesn't manifest until a few years later, so time is of the essence. Are you in?"
You gazed at her incredulously. "How do I know I can trust you? I don't even know you personally," you challenged.
"I am Lady Eleanor, your trainer, tasked with preparing you to become the next host for the Light element," she affirmed with a smile.
"Yeah, but how do I know you're qualified to be a trainer? How do you know what to do?" you pressed.
She smiled knowingly. "Fight me, and you'll see," she proposed, prompting you to balk.
"No way! I'm not fighting an older woman like you! It's unethical!" you protested.
Suddenly, a gust of wind knocked you off the log you were perched on.
“What the hell!?” you exclaimed, as Lady Eleanor smirked.
“Come on, fight me. Or are you too weak? Just like that boy told you yesterday,” she taunted, causing your eyes to widen.
“How do you—”
“I’m well acquainted with everything happening around these parts, my dear. After all, I call this place home,” she explained, her smile widening.
“Now, are you going to fight me? Or just stand there looking pretty?” She said, making you frustrated.
“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” you replied, determined not to back down from the challenge.
You lunged at her with your sword, only to find a massive rock materialize between you, denting your weapon.
“My sword!” you cried out in frustration, glaring at Lady Eleanor.
Undeterred, you charged at her again, but she effortlessly disarmed you and swiftly countered your moves. Despite your efforts, you found yourself face-planted on the ground, feeling a mix of embarrassment and determination.
Lady Eleanor extended a hand to assist you to your feet, her expression softened with understanding. "You're too slow and too consumed by negative emotions," she advised gently, her voice carrying the wisdom of experience. "Inner peace is key, even in the midst of battle."
As you regained your footing, her words sank in, reminding you of the importance of maintaining a clear mind and calm demeanor, even in the face of adversity.
"I have been everyone's trainer besides Atlas'," Lady Eleanor continued, her gaze reflecting a mix of reverence and nostalgia. "He was the one who trained me... for I am the second holder of the light element."
Her revelation about being the second holder of the light element left you speechless, your eyes widening in astonishment.
“Show me then!” you demanded eagerly, hoping for a glimpse of her power.
But Lady Eleanor shook her head regretfully. “I cannot. Once I had my children, I made the choice to relinquish my light vision to be with them. It was a decision between keeping the light element or keeping my family.” she explained
“You chose what was most important to you?” you queried, seeking reassurance.
She nodded solemnly in response, her sincerity evident in her eyes.
“How do I know you’re not lying?” you pressed, your skepticism surfacing once more.
In response, Lady Eleanor lifted her wrist, revealing the luminous symbol of the light element engraved upon it. Its brilliance spoke volumes, validating her words without the need for further explanation.
“When a new holder for this element has succeeded in obtaining the gift, a symbol is engraved in their wrist for eternity. This is how you can trust me.” She said
You gasped in realization, finally grasping the authenticity of her words. “You… you really are telling the truth!” you exclaimed, a mix of surprise and relief flooding through you, making her roll her eyes in amusement.
“I’ve only been trying to say that about a hundred times,” she quipped with a hint of playful exasperation. Then, extending her hand toward you, she posed the ultimate question, “Are you in? Or are you out? The choice is yours.”
You hesitated, contemplating the weight of the decision before you. Did you truly want this responsibility, with the fate of humanity resting in your hands?
But Lady Eleanor’s reminder echoed in your mind: “Remember… a real warrior never backs down from a challenge. Are you a true warrior?”
With a newfound determination burning within you, you looked up at her and met her gaze squarely. Without a moment’s hesitation, you reached out and clasped her hand firmly, resolving to prove to yourself and everyone else that you were capable of far more than they ever imagined.
“Let’s do this.”
-back with Ajax-
It had been weeks since Ajax had last seen y/n. He felt horrible for what he said…but a part of him didn’t as well and that just made him feel worse. He had tried to reach out to you, but you never responded to him. He decided to go to Jean to see if she knew what was up with you.
*****
Ajax's frustration boiled over as he questioned Jean. "You and y/n are practically sisters! How can you not know where she is?"
Jean met his gaze, her tone gentle yet firm. "And you've been best friends with her since birth, Childe." She replied, making Ajax scoff.
"Then where is she if neither of us knows?" Ajax demanded, his impatience evident.
Jean paused. "Let's go check her house. I've been concerned about her too," she suggested, lying through her teeth. She rose to her feet with determination.
*****
The two knocked urgently on your door, their voices echoing through the empty house. With no response, Ajax's worry escalated, prompting him to kick the door open.
"Childe!"
"What? It could be an emergency," he defended, his concern palpable.
Inside, they called out for you, but the silence only deepened their apprehension. Their shock was evident as they surveyed the barren rooms, stripped of your belongings.
"What the hell?!" Ajax exclaimed, while Jean moved about the space.
Meanwhile, Ajax ascended the stairs to your room, his anxiety mounting. Upon entering, his heart clenched at the sight of the empty space. However, amidst the absence, one object remained—a broken picture frame. Carefully, he retrieved it from the floor, his chest heavy as he recognized the photo within. It was a picture of you and him from childhood.
"She... kept this? After all these years?" he murmured, his voice laced with emotion.
"It looks like she left it behind too... especially after you broke her heart with your harsh words," Jean revealed.
"What do you mean?" Ajax asked, confusion clouding his expression.
"Don't play dumb with me. She told me everything you said to her. And believe me, if she allowed me, I would've killed you already. But she made me promise not to, as long as she promised to pay me a visit every now and then after she left," Jean explained, her tone tinged with resentment.
"You knew she left!?" Ajax's voice rose in anger, his glare fixed on Jean.
"Why the hell didn't you tell me!?"
"Why should I? It's not like you would've cared anyways! You were a total dick to her, and I'm glad she's far away from here! Away from you!" Jean retorted, her own frustration boiling over.
“Well then why’d you even decide to come with me? Huh?”
”I don’t owe you any explanation.” She yelled back
Ajax stepped closer, his anger flaring. "You little—"
"Say it! Will it make you feel better? Especially knowing that you were the reason she left?” She yelled at him.
”You called her a nobody….said she was nothing. After everything she’s done for you….You should be ashamed of yourself, Childe" Jean interrupted, her words piercing through Ajax's defenses.
Now visibly shaken, Ajax recoiled, his hurt evident on his face.
"Now that you know everything, I'm going to leave. I don't want to see your face ever again…" Jean declared, turning on her heel and slamming the door behind her.
Ajax stared at the door, then down at the photo. He didn’t know what to feel…he was…confused. But why? He had Lumine…that’s all that mattered…right? It shouldn’t matter that you were gone…
But no matter what excuses he made for himself…he couldn’t get over the fact that he had lost you…his best friend…maybe something even more than just best friends…
Then and there is when he truly felt regret as tears started to fill up in his eyes…
”What have I done?”
__________________
Part two coming tomorrow! I hope you all enjoyed because I really enjoyed writing this one!
Taglist:
#angst#genshin scenarios#genshin impact x reader#genshin traveler#childe tartaglia ajax#childe x reader#childe tartagalia#childe#genshin tartagalia#tartaglia#tartaglia angst#genshin impact scenarios#genshin impact imagines#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin imagines#genshin fanfic#genshin impact angst#genshin angst#genhin impact#childe x fem!reader#childe x lumine#childe x you#lumine#genshin impact x you#genshin x y/n#genshin x you#ajax x reader#ajax#ajax x y/n
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A flock of birds!!
Steph can be taller than Tim. As a treat.
#while drawing this i was like#i think it would be fun if after they ‘graduate’ from being robin#they have an initiation to get an ear piercing#i gave jason one that my brother has#digital art#fanart#fan art#dc#dc comics#robin dc#dick grayson#jason todd#stephanie brown#tim drake#tim drake wayne#damian wayne#nightwing#red hood#batgirl#red robin dc#spoiler dc#click for better quality#batfam#batfamily
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#text#my lobe piercings‚ which i got at claires‚ r too low and its pissing me off more by the day#and i want 2 stretch my ears so bad but im worried that theyd rip which . WOULD BE BAD#so im wondering if id be able to get my lobes pierced in a higher location with a bigger initial gauge#and let the old ones heal which theyd never fully heal thru probably but yknow just pretend they dont exist#but i want 2 talk 2 a piercer who can look at my ear and tell me if thats possible#i also want 2 ask abt like five different piercings i want and im guessing the answer will be 'u dont have the right anatomy'#for at least half of them but its worth asking#<//3
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GIRLS I figured it out. I don't need drugs or sex or cutting or demons. I need a new piercing
#preferably the second industrial i planned since last year 😭 but it hasnt really been 9 months since I had the first one done#and since the second will be directly above it... it better be fully healed#i usually take off my piercings when they heal to look at the holes and then put them in again#but not industrial if it falls out and heals and i have to get it repierced. then im gonna kill someone.#i liked the initial pain of the needle but having a red swelled ear sucks long term
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now what was the need for op to add that last line given theyre white lmao. like good post overall but come on
#initially added this 2 tags but tbh venting on the blog is better all around. anyway if yr white literally shut up abt babies getting their#ears pierced sorry......the implications rnt looking good !#i dont even have a definitive stance on this like if another poc criticized it as a tool of parental control n bodily violation id be fully#supportive#but when its a white guy. its deeply funny like sit down#dl fr btw just need 2 get this off the chest#ok also edit obviously a white person disliking their own parents doing this is. not sth im ever commenting on ljke my input is irrelevant.#but when its generalized and painted as universally horrible.......not great. lol
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little bit of advice, take the dare.
pairing: bang chan x f!reader.
warnings: profanities, implied exhibitionism, dirty truth or dare (more like dare or dare...), stripping, mild grinding, dirty talks.
genre: implied rivals to lovers, implied smut.
rating: mature.
word count: 2.1k
“Let Chan strip two pieces of your clothing.”
These little bitches.
The innocence in Seungmin’s broad grin as he delivered aloud and clear what Minho had earlier whispered in his ear wasn’t able to deceit Chan the slightest in spite of it combined with that sparkly attentive puppy stare.
A foul scheme had been carefully arranged in those two cunning heads of theirs before they instigated this truth or dare game as soon as the majority of people returned home. Chan wasn’t oblivious of what he would get himself into the moment Minho escorted him from the drinking game in the back patio to a coffee table in the living room and begged him to join in the fun. Especially when you were one of the people centering around the table.
And so Chan was down for whatever challenges thrown his way no matter truth or dare it was that he ended up choosing. Wouldn’t really matter. Except now it was your turn, yet he was somehow involved in such a risque dare so early in the game.
Seungmin’s index finger pointed around the room twice, attracting the attention of the few people close enough to the table to see what he was up to, and he added, “or let anyone in the room. Your choice.”
As though he expected you would actually pick one of the sweaty and tipsy dimwits you barely knew of instead of Chan who you were certainly more familiar with. When, seriously, it was clear to Chan that both Seungmin and Minho wanted to prove him wrong— that the possibility of you romantically attracted to one another wasn’t even close to impossible despite the banter between the two of you sometimes getting out of hand.
The banter, Seungmin and Minho insisted, was a flirting attempt.
You leaned back onto the sofa behind you, crossing your arms with a stare of haughty disdain piercing through Seungmin and Minho’s who both seemed to be just as imperious.
“I was expecting a more daring one from you horny freaks,” your eyes then landed on Chan who was sitting across from you. Not looking away, your proud smile widened into a blithe grin, “this isn’t even his dare. But if he’s down, I don’t see why I have to back down.”
Chan stretched his arms and arched his back as a dramatic warmup before downing the remaining liquor in his red cup, earning supportive laughs from the excessively excited spectators around. “As long as you don’t back down if they involve you in my dares later.”
Getting up from the floor, you rounded the table and stood before him. You mirrored the smug grin that stretched across his face as he peered up at you, “pants and sweater then, gentleman.”
Despite the profuse tease that gleamed in your irises, Chan didn’t entertain you with even a slight wavering in the way he looked back up at you. Instead, taunting you with a faux innocent tilt of his head as his firm yet tender fingers began to toy with the button of your jeans.
The waistband of your black panties as if emerged once he slid down the zipper. He wasn’t sure if your hand placement on the crown of his head was unintended, but then your lips tilted up into a smile and your brow arched challengingly as your fingers ran through the soft tresses of his brown curls.
Encouraged, he lifted the hem of your sweater, exposing just enough of your bare stomach. His other palm smothered around your waist and landed on the small of your back, drawing you closer until his lips accidentally brushed against the bare skin of your stomach.
Chan’s hearts didn’t leap at his own sly, dirty initiation.
It didn’t. Definitely not.
Perhaps one could cut the air with a knife as the tension between you two was thickening the longer he took his time sliding the pants off your waist and the tighter you had his hair gripped in your palm. But everyone else was too preoccupied with keeping track of his veiny hands lingering around the waistband of your jeans, tugging down the denims at an intentionally slow pace.
In one glance, nothing of your true emotions was shown through your perfunctory facade. But Chan was practically on his knees, hands on you, and there was less than two inches gap between his lips and your stomach. Anything changed from your stance, he could easily catch it.
So when he felt you tensed up when he tantalized you by skimming his palm down the side of your thigh as the other pulled the jeans down to pool around your ankles, he had to fight back the triumphant grin he felt was close to spread on his face.
Once the pants were tossed somewhere on the floor, Chan got up on his feet as you held your arms up for him to take your knitted sweater off over your head.
His eyes peered down at where the bare skin of your stomach was supposed to be on full display as he pulled the hem of your sweater up. The underband of your bralette was slowly showing the higher the hem of your sweater was lifted.
He drew closer, lips lingered on your ear, chuckling and murmuring out of everyone’s earshot, “should’ve made you rid of three garments instead of two. What a shame.”
You ran your palms down along his torso as soon as your sweater was off your upper half, and you leaned in to whisper in his ear where nobody else could hear, too. “Next time it’s your turn, I’ll make you stand on the porch naked.”
Shameless gasps of “oh fuck” was heard from around you as you casually sat down with only high cut panties and black bralette. Chan could easily relate. He found himself checking you out when you weren’t looking.
He was grateful of the sudden rough smack on his thigh that brought him back to his senses. He looked to his left where the hand was from and Minho shot him a knowing look before leaning over to mutter, “you fucking pervert.”
He chuckled. Perhaps he was.
“Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle!” Felix chippered lovely squeaks and giggles as he bounced up and down on the carpeted floor in anticipation. More because the game had progressed into all the more obscene to earlier than he had expected. Don’t be fooled by such an irradiant, angelic face.
Chan just had to dissolve into laughter and squeaks and giggles when the bottle cap once again pointed in your direction. Twice in a row, it was. He threw his head back laughing when your jaw plunged into the ground in disbelief and eyes narrowed into slits in spite, feeling betrayed— by the bottle.
“Sit on Chan’s lap.” Jeongin smugly declared before anyone could even think of something potent to embarrass yourself, effectively shutting down the jeers and laughter as they contemplated.
You shrugged, once again rounding the table to where Chan was perched on the floor and nonchalantly settled your ass on his lap before he could protest.
Chan, on the other hand, grasped either side of your waist tightly and tried to prevent you from dwelling on that particular spot. But you persisted on reclining your back onto his chest, shoving your ass further down to where Chan could feel himself twitch.
“Fuck you.” He cursed against your neck when you slightly wiggled your lower half.
“Quit being a jerk,” you whispered back with a chuckle, but tone laced with genuine threat, “or I’ll make you wet your pants. Literally.”
Not even thirty minutes into the game that everyone around the table was a little tipsy with signs of either misery and happiness written on their faces.
With five people being out of the circle and off to the back patio for a lot more lame drinking game with other football players, the remaining nine still held out in place to seek revenge.
Minho had tasted his own medicine as he was left with only briefs around his waist but not that he was unhappy about it as he’d gotten to proudly present his hard-earned well built body when you had Jisung leave three hickeys on his shoulders and two on his inner thigh. Jisung had solid yellow face paint all over his face, exactly resembling Looney Tunes’ Tweety.
Hyunjin was sprawled on the floor with occasional dramatic huffs and groans after he’d called his problematic ex and told him he’d been missing him. Changbin and Felix were disgustingly glued to one another after the older prolonged the supposedly five-second kiss. Seungmin had collected lipstick marks around his neck from ten people. Jeongin almost passed out from seven slices of pizza he’d had to finish before Seungmin returned.
And Chan was about to get his second turn after the top of the bottle pointed at him and you, who was still very much comfortably perched on his lap.
“Dare.” He didn’t even hesitate, calm and confident.
Not even when Minho slightly shoved himself forward to gain everyone’s attention. A little lift at the corner of his lips didn’t go unnoticed and for some reason, Chan was even anticipating what the little bitch had to say now.
“Are people still doing seven minutes in heaven?” Minho blurted, making Felix perk up instantly.
Hyunjin abruptly ended his dramatic disintegration and sat down with a gasp. “Oh my god,” he started, “I did it a year ago at a frat party with a guy except we weren’t allowed to say anything. Not a single fucking sound ‘cause one of them was sitting in the front of the door and if they heard even a small bit of me moaning, we’d have to walk to class the next day with extremely short fucking miniskirt. Imagine such suffering I had to bear while a hot guy blew me. He was great though.”
Wonder-stricken looks were instead what the taller got from everyone in the room. Minho was especially beaming at the deliberate suggestion and against his better judgement, his eyes landed on Chan whose chin rested on your shoulder. The older raised a brow in amusement when catching him staring, already seeing through the younger’s impish smirk.
Seungmin turned towards Minho, “I vote for what exactly Hyunjin did.”
Minho chuckled, “slow down, my guy. Our Channie doesn’t have to get someone suck him off. He can do whatever he pleases behind the door. But not. A single. Fucking. Sound.” He firmly suggested as he looked Chan dead in the eye. Insisted, even, perhaps, “or Changbin would love to lend his sister’s pink tutu.”
While Chan’s expression was hard to read, the rest seemed to be pleased. Excited, even.
You straightforwardly approved of Minho’s suggestion, ripping through the sound of supportive cheers from the others with an excited squeak after taking a sip of cheap beer from your cup, “I volunteer to sit at the door.”
Chan snorted behind you, “who says you’re not coming with me?”
A noisy commotion of “ooooohhh” and dramatic “aaaaahhh” immediately collided with the blaring EDM played in the background.
He’d thought you would never run out of snide remarks to shoot back at him at a time like this. So when you choked on your drink at his candidness, he couldn’t hold back a laugh.
Felix unattached himself from Changbin’s arm, hands flailing before his own face as he grinned so brightly that the dim room no longer seemed to be as dim as it was supposed to be. Once again, don’t be fooled by such an irradiant, angelic face. “Okay, look. You got seven minutes. Choose your person. No sounds allowed. We’ll set the timer once the door’s shut.”
“That room’s empty.” Changbin added with a snicker, nodding at the door to his roommate’s room, “he’s gone for two weeks. Just don’t make a mess.”
If Chan was surprised at how he managed to manhandle you and somehow scoop you up as he got on his feet, it didn’t show on his face. You securely wrapped yourself around his upper half, a long list of filthiest profanity was at the tip of your tongue at the sudden, unannounced move.
Chan blinked. Not breaking eye contact, his tongue brushed over the upper row of his pearly teeth before those sank in his lower lip. There might be a lack of reaction shown on your face as you seemed to be still as annoyed, but the faint pinkish tint that stained your cheeks had said so much already.
He glanced over to Changbin, nodding, “worry not. I’ll swallow everything y/n has to give me.”
“You better,” your irritated stare tapered off into that of a challenging glare injecting venom straight into his dimpled grin, “or I’ll make you wear the tutu.”
#skz fictions#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#skz smut#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz bang chan#bang chan smut#chan smut#chan imagines
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James Potter is easily the biggest of the three. He’s just so muscular and strong, but in a soft way. He’s got a soft layer of fat protecting his muscles, and I imagine he’s very freckled too. Not sure why. He is the epitome of a golden retriever boyfriend. He likes being the big spoon, and has an INCREDIBLE weak spot for getting his hair played with. Like, it’s literally orgasmic to him. He grew up with everything. Love, money, etc, etc, so he’s probably the touchiest (at first), and is all over you from the start. Also, I think he often forgets his strength and squeezes u too hard and you’ve gotta be like “uh.. Jamie..? You’re.. you’re kinda squeezing-“ and he just puts an arm over ur mouth like “shut up, baby. Sorry. Love you.” He’s adorable.
Remus Lupin is just a normal sized boy, and runs hot like a radiator. Honestly. He doesn’t even need all those knitted sweaters and warm coffee because he just is the embodiment of autumn warmth. He’s littered with silver scars from his lycanthropy, so when u see him naked for the first time, he’s so self conscious. He’d have his arms wrapped around himself, shielding his scars from your view, and you’ve got to prize his hands off of himself. “I’m sorry.. i know they’re not.. appealing.. it’s…” and you’re just like “woah, rem, what? You’re fucking beautiful.” You say that, and he’s yours. He’s not used to love like James is, but he’s probably the one to start getting cuddly. I imagine it’s winter and he’s reading in the common room, and ur shivering because by some miracle the fire isn’t on. He looks up from his book, admiring you for a while and then lifts up his sweater. You SHOOT underneath it and basically curl up like a cat against his bare chest. I repeat: HE IS SO FUCKING WARM. You’d probably have an ‘eternal sunshine of the spotless mind’ moment with him at the start of your relationship though. You know when Clementine is saying she always thought she was ugly and Joel starts kissing her and saying “you’re pretty, you’re pretty, you’re pretty…” yeah, you’d be Joel and he’d be Clementine. But once he’s comfortable, he’s a fucking fiend. You’ll never be cold again, trust me.
Sirius Black is skinny and pale. Like a vampire. Endearingly. I imagine he has a nose piercing and an eyebrow piercing, and he’s all tattooed up. Will DEFINITELY get your initial on his abdomen or collarbone in swirly penmanship. Sirius will act like your best friend even when u two are dating. Bless him though, he’s so used to being hurt and abused by those that are meant to protect him that he can’t trust you at first. I think the first time he came to realise you were different is when you asked him what happened after winter break at his parent’s house, because he was being really quiet and flinching a lot which is unlike him. You cornered him in the common room when no one else was there, and asked him “hey, Siri? What’s going on, man? Tell me.” He insisted, “I’m fine. I swear, sweetheart.” You went to tuck his black curls behind his ear but he flinched, which shattered your heart. You said “Sirius, please. I need to know you’re okay, because I need you safe.” And hearing that, he broke down into your arms. From then on, he’s always in your arms. He adores comforting you, because he’s a big brother himself and so he has the instinct, you know? But man, does he fucking adore being in your arms. He WILL curl up beside you wherever you’re sitting or lying, and is always rubbing against you. He always says “I can’t help it, babe, it’s just the dog in me.” Which he seems to find HILARIOUS. Oh yeah, and he literally can’t sleep unless you’re the big spoon or his head is on your chest or in your neck. He likes to feel safe and protected for once, and you do that for him to no end. He’s THE 70s rocker stereotype, and he loves having matching nail polish with you. You’re best friends as well as lovers.
Sorry for yapping to no end guys!!!
#sirius black x reader#Sirius black prompt#james potter x reader#James potter prompt#remus lupin x reader#Remus Lupin prompt#marauders x reader#the marauders#sirius black scenario#james potter scenario#remus lupin scenario#Sirius black💌*~#Remus Lupin💌*~#James potter💌*~
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Somethin’ Soft for someone Tough.
Earth 42!Miles Morales x Fem!Reader
“Let me stitch you up, Miles.”
i ❤️ miles and he is so bf uhuh (i’m insane put me in a cell)
also he’s soooooo a simp in this, none of that ihu typa love his mama raised him RIGHT
warnings: injury, stitches, medical practices from someone who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing, some angst, slightly suggestive at times
I dot NOT speak spanish so if anyone is willing to help with translation for future fics, I would owe my life to you (and give early release? i dunno wtv u want babygirl)
—
Miles didn’t understand your hurt. He didn’t understand why you hated him being the Prowler—, didn’t understand you crying when you found out. Or your shame and disappointment when it came to his..
-Profession.
It confused him, he did this to keep you safe. He’d already lost enough, he can’t lose you. He won’t. You just didn’t get that.
Having you be mad at him, loath him, despise and detest him for being Prowler. It was easier than you dead because he wasn’t.
He would rather you hate him, than only have your memory.
So when he came home to you sleeping in his bed, waiting for him to return to you only two weeks after his initial reveal, he did nothing but lay down next to you and let your hand slowly drag into his. Interlocking your fingers in a twisted pattern of forgiveness and relief.
And he didn’t try to understand why.
—
It was warm this night, the heat of a summers Sun leaving Brooklyn a mucky kind of hot. Sweat dripping down the flesh of those still dwelling outside so late, only taking solace in the rare occasion of a breeze through their clothes.
Which is why you felt ever grateful lying in an air conditioned apartment dawned only in a pair of your lovers boxers and a ribbed white tank top.
It was the pair you bought him a while back when browsing street stalls, decorated with little cats and hearts. You thought they were funny, he was not impressed (but he was happy you were happy).
Miles had been out a lot lately. Assignments, as he called them, had been increasing in frequency as of late. Willing you more and more worried about the boy you loved, he just kept coming home injured.
Which you endearingly (aggressively) scolded him for, tones of care seeping into your monologue of being safer with his job whilst he huffed and puffed begrudgingly.
Assuring you he was nothing but careful,—
“Mami, ¿por qué iba a ser imprudente con mi vida cuando te tengo a ti para volver casa a? Alguien tiene que cuidar de ti.”
"Mami, why would I be reckless with my life when I have you to go home to? Someone has to take care of you."
A bashful murmur of “Just be more careful.” Would only reward you with a hand on your waist and the beginnings of a smile. You sighed out in boredom, draping a hand over your forehead dramatically. Spread out on Miles’ bed awaiting his return that’s seemingly taking years.
A crash outside your (boyfriends’) window alerted you out of your position, the piercing sound of metal scraping against metal grating your ears. Shooting up from your laid position, you messily shuffled off the bed, almost tripping over yourself to get to the figure struggling beyond the glass. A heavy claw dragged the window open with the apparent little strength it had left, heavy breaths and short rumbles of discomfort reaching your ears.
The neon pink of the Prowlers mask greeted you, quickening your aid in slamming open the window and catching Miles’ stumbling body from toppling through.
A husking groan sounded from your sweetheart as the mask slowly peeled back, revealing the trails of blood creeping from a cut in his lip.
“Hey, mami.”
Miles was gorgeous, he was a still picture of a painted deity in living form. The plump of his lips dripping a slow streak of burgundy did nothing to taint the sight of him, you wished it had, maybe you could be madder.
“Miles, what happened?” Your concern had outweighed your admiration, you were now fretting.
“I tripped.”
You scoffed something unbelieving, smiling despite the ache in your chest at the poor sight of him. Your emotionally stumped man.
“C’mon, baby, come inside.” Your right hand caressed the side of his face, left collecting his claw adorned fingers in yours to help him through and into his room.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he stepped over the sill, sucking in a breath and hoping you didn’t catch it.
Glancing up at you from his hunched position, you gaped back at him, unimpressed but worried.
He dropped your hands, the clasps on his gloves clicking, and the metal dropped to the ground with a dull thud. Pushing his arms back and letting his backpack fall too, he cracked his neck and winced again.
You all but pouted at him, reaching for his hurt body in discontent.
He leaned down to put his head on your shoulder, breath tickling your neck as he peppered you with light kisses, nipping your skin in just a graze. He wasn’t one to usually be so affectionate, but his guard always lowers with you, shoulders dropping and pulse quickening.
“No está tan mal, ma.”
"It's not so bad, ma."
His hand lifting from out of yours and onto your waist, circling the exposed skin between his boxers and your shirt.
His boxers,—
—,his hand twitched.
“Not that bad?” Your hushed voice bled of concern. “There’s a gash in your side!”
The simple serenity he had found buried in your neck had been ripped away from him in an instant.
You all but hauled his body to the bed, urging him to sit down against the sheets whilst he sulked grumpily behind you. Pushing against his chest and sitting him down.
You ran to his bathroom, washing your hands thoroughly before opening the cabinet under the sink, reaching back to the first aid kit you had placed here for this exact reason and towel, you rushed back to his room and shut the door behind you. “Amor, It’s just a—“ Cutting himself off, he hissed and cursed some under his breath.
“No digas que es sólo un corte.”
"Don't say it's just a cut."
“Mi sol, I have suffered worse.”
“Let me stitch you up, Miles.”
You turned back, shooting him an exasperated look while you threw the towel. Miles catching it without much effort and putting it under him. Flipping open the latch on the kit you sat yourself next to his bed, knees underneath you and digging harshly into the scuffed wood. You grabbed everything you assume you’d need, setting it on the open lid of the kit and focusing back on Miles.
“You look good like this, mami.”
You choked slightly, glaring up at him.
“Take off your jacket, Morales.”
"Sabes, si querías que me desnudara..."
"You know, if you wanted me to undress..."
“One more word.”
“Understood.”
He groaned as he did. Jacket falling off his shoulders and onto the bed, he pushed it to the floor beside you and spread his knees. You shuffled closer between them, lifting his shirt enough to see the damage on his torso and sighed shakily when figuring he was right.
It was just a graze, but a damn deep one. On the right of his torso, falling just under his ribcage was a thin, deep gash.
“What were you cut with, Papi?”
His stomach clenched as you prodded around, checking the wound for any signs of oncoming infection and signalling for him to take his shirt off.
“A knife, probably.”
Despite the weary of the situation, a smug look adorned his face. You poked his stomach, him wincing.
“Figures.”
You hid your smile.
He slipped his shirt over his head, grimacing at the pull of his wound. You took it from him and set it aside, getting an unopened bottle of water from the kit and pouring it over the cut. The water ran through the blood, trickling down his abs and soaking the waist band of his pants, he tipped his head back, groaning lowly in pain.
“Mami, entiendo que estés enojada, but please be gentle.”
"Mami, I understand that you're angry, but please be gentle."
He gazed down at you lazily, the drawl of his accent coating his voice syrupy in light of his injury. He looked downright sinful, braids draping lazily and shoulders dropped. Leaning back on his palms with his legs spread.
“I am gentle.”
“Sure.”
You focus returned to his wound, grabbing a clean hand towel and patting his cut dry, gently.
The occasional hiss or moan would interrupt you, but other than that Miles stayed relatively quiet. Watching you work as you fixed him.
“There, all done.”
“Not gonna kiss it better?”
You huffed, amused as you started to put everything back where it belonged. You could change the sheets and dispose of the hand-towels tomorrow, right now he just wanted you.
Miles grabbed your waist as you stood, hands slipping behind you to shove you forward into him. He buried his face into your stomach and sighed. You giggled lightly, the lack of a smile on his face tagged with the need for your touch was something no one but you could get used to. Your hand slowly trailed up his bare back, nails scratching lightly at his skin. He shivered, tightening his hold on you further.
“Lay down, baby.”
He whispered your name, “Chiquita, you take such good care of me.”
Humming, you unhooked his arms from you and pushed him to lie back by the tips of your fingers.
“Gon’ spoil you after this.”
You grabbed the towel, surprisingly dry and dropped it to the floor with the other discarded items.
“You already spoil me, Papi.”
Miles kicked off his shoes, sparing you a glance and a hum at the endearment.
“‘S’cause you deserve it.”
He unbuckled his belt, threading it out through the loops and threw it to land somewhere. You dragged the corner of the quilt back up to the both of you, stopping halfway. Miles sighed in annoyance, huffing at his pant button and cursing it as he fumbled to pull his pants down.
You giggled, “Need help, baby?” He scoffed lightheartedly. “I got it.”
“Mhm.” He eventually did get it, pulling his pants off and over his legs, coughing slightly at the wind crushing his cut had caused him.
“C’mere mami.” He grabbed your thighs, dragging you on top of him. “Mm—“ “Shh, it don’t hurt.” You let yourself relax slightly, mostly leaning on your need as not to hurt him.
The stars in his eyes as he looked up at you, he sighed quietly.
“It’s hot baby, we’re gonna get all sweaty.”
“Hopefully.”
“Miles.”
You rolled your eyes in a laugh, hooking your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Mm, there. Now you’re all better.”
He rubbed shapes into your thighs, loving the proximity. The way your breaths mingled and skin stuck together.
He thanked the Moon and the Stars for letting him keep you, begged every day to anyone out there that could hear him to tether your souls and kill him have he ever lose you. Would kill a million men to keep you safe, and he’d already had a running start.
He cleansed himself of his sins with your love, showering in the light you provided for him, and watched the blood of any man drip from his fingertips and into the rivers you’d created in his veins. Letting it mix with his own and beat by the tone of his heart. Which only ever raced for you. Only beat for you. He could only live for you, your love and acceptance.
Of which Miles would never understand why you loved him, and he would never try to.
“Much.”
He laid down, you following. Lying your head on his chest and listening to his breathing stutter at the contact.
It was late now, far later than a healthy time to finally sleep. But nothing could break the bubble of ease that now seemed to suffocate him. Lulling him into a slumber with his love against his heart.
—
first fic shoulllllf probably be fluff b4 i angst again
as angst is all i’m good for
i literally don’t know how to write fluff so pray it was good
IF ANY TRANSLATIONS WRONG PLESASSSSSE CORRECT ME
#miles morales x reader#miles morales#earth 42#across the spiderverse#miles x reader#across the spider verse spoilers#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles morales
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The Reader gets hurt whilst saving them - 141, Los Vaqueros + Konig
Requested by Anon
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon's a complicated person, so it's hard to decipher what's going on inside his head - even people who've worked alongside him for years never truly know what he's thinking.
He never lets himself get emotional - well, any other emotions aside from anger are rarely shown.
Case and point - his initial reaction when he sees the blood seeping out of a bullet-wound in your side.
A bullet that was meant for him but you shoved him out of the way.
He stares at you for a millisecond, gaze unreadable, before he grapples you as you're about to fall to the floor.
"What the fuck did you do that for, you tit?!"
Charming, right?
He quickly realises that his angry screaming is falling on deaf ears, as you faded in and out of consciousness.
All he can do is stare as your face begins to pale from blood loss, relaying what had happened to Price over the comms.
He continues to stare at you as you're loaded onto the helicopter, strapped to a gurney with a Medic keeping constant pressure on your wound.
On the outside, he looks utterly livid - and he is.
Doesn't matter if he's your Superior, or vice versa - regardless of rank he'd have chewed you out for doing something so foolish and reckless all the same, even at the expense of a write-up.
But seeing you in the medical wing, bandaged up in a hospital bed, in critical condition, it makes a cocktail of emotions swirl in his stomach.
And he doesn't like it, not one bit.
Why save his life at the expense of your own? He doesn't understand that at all, and honestly he doesn't think he's worthy of it either.
He's by no definition an angel and has done things that would probably give Satan himself an aneurysm, so the fact that you put yourself in harms way like that just doesn't sit right with him at all.
The entire ordeal would probably keep him up til the early hours of the morning, thinking - he knew he harboured a certain amount of feelings for you, but he never realised just how much.
If it had been a new recruit or any other military personnel, he probably wouldn't have cared as much - unless it was someone from his own Team, in which case he probably still wouldn't be loosing sleep over "their own fucking stupidity."
It had been almost a week since the incident and he was still trying to wrap his head around it all.
But all he could do was visit you, waiting at your bedside for you to wake up - to an onslaught of questions and probably another barrage of swearing for being so "bloody stupid" and to "never pull that stupid shit again."
He can try and deny his feelings all he wants, but he knows the truth - he can lie to others but he can't lie to himself.
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish
He's a complete contrast to Ghost - where Ghost hides his feelings under layers and layers of denial and a gruff demeanour, Soap is an open book.
He's been openly flirting with you since the day you met, and was planning on making his move to ask you on a date as soon as you got back after the mission.
But seeing you with a ballistic knife sticking out of your shoulder, slumping back against a wall for support, really put a spanner in the works.
The enemy had spotted Soap crouched down planting some C4 and explosives, and had timed their throw to aim for his neck as he stood up - but they hadn't seen you.
You jumped in front of Johnny, shooting the enemy with quick precision but at a cost.
"Aw, for fuck sake!"
Luckily, the knife didn't pierce anything important, so with a good number of stitches and bandages you were good to go.
But an angry Scotsman stood at the door to the medical wing, eyebrows knitted together as he watched the Nurse put clean dressings on your wound.
"Don't ever dae that again," Johnny grunted, arms crossed across his chest. He didn't want to be too hard on you, given that Price had all but screamed at you the moment you were dragged onto the helicopter for being "a reckless fucking muppet."
Johnny didn't want anyone risking their life like that, for him - especially not you.
A smirk tugged at his lips, as his hand thumbed the bandages that wrapped down from your shoulder to just below your elbow," Cannae take you out if someone takes you out, can a?"
Captain John Price
To say that he's angry at you would be the understatement of the century.
Doesn't hide it either.
Even if you were already in a relationship at this point, he's going to be vocal about his anger - but the words he chooses may be slightly less abrasive.
"Why would you do something so stupid, you muppet?!"
The enemy had planted explosive devices as a booby trap - Soap had disarmed them all, or so he'd thought; the sneaky bastards had planted another a few feet away, which detonated and sent pieces of shrapnel flying in all directions.
Some of the shrapnel had embedded itself in your forearms and ribcage, when you'd jumped in front of your Captain to shield him.
Which led you to where you were now, with a Medic picking the pieces of metal out with tweezers - and an angry Price staring you down, arms crossed across his chest as he fixed you with a stern look.
He's been in the military for a long while and has seen a lot of stuff that would make the average person's hair curl - and he's lost a lot of people in the field that he cared about.
So for you to risk your life for his own -- he wasn't having it.
"Count yourself lucky that I won't be writing you up for this."
He has to keep up appearances - he's a high-ranking officer, and it no doubt would be frowned upon (to say the least) if it got out that he was fraternising with one of the soldiers in his team.
But in private, he's softer.
He thumbs over the bandages and dressings covering your wounds, brows knitting together in thought.
"Please don't do that again, Love - can't lose you."
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Doesn't realise what's happened until he hears your body fall to the floor with a thud.
A sniper had set their sights on taking Gaz out, laser trained on his back - he hadn't noticed, distracted with trying to hack into the enemy base's security system.
The shot shattered the window pane behind him, which made him whirl around in his chair, gun drawn - putting the pieces together in his head, he should've been in your position in that moment, but you'd taken the bullet for him.
You'd taken the bullet for him.
it isn't until Price is practically roaring through the comms at the Sergeant that he comes to, hurriedly relaying the situation to Price as he checks your vitals.
You're alive - thank god.
The evac and the flight back to base was all a blur, as you faded in and out of consciousness.
You were lucky - the bullet hadn't punctured any vital organs, so with surgery and a few transfusions you were beginning to make a recovery.
Of course Price gave you a gutting out as soon as you were well enough - but in typical Dad fashion, he gave you a slightly awkward head pat and wished you a gruff "Get well soon, (Y/L/N) - be good to see you back on your feet again."
Gaz shows up to visit you, a bouquet of flowers in hand.
He's angry at you, so naturally he has a heated discussion with you about being reckless and to never risk your life like that again - especially since it was his own fault for not being more aware of his surroundings and for not watching his six.
But he's still soft for you.
"Thank you for saving my life, Love - but don't ever fucking do that again."
Alejandro Vargas
Oof.
Out of everyone in this list, his reaction is by far the most heated.
He's angry - more than angry, he's livid.
Doesn't matter if it was a cut from a knife whizzing past you, or something more serious - he's a big guy, he can take whatever life throws at him.
But for you to jump in and take the onslaught for him, injuring yourself in the process? He's pissed.
He probably would avoid you for a while, not wanting to risk exploding into a fit of rage when he sees your injuries.
It would be Rudy who would be the voice of reason, pushing him to go and speak to you instead of stewing over his anger and guilt - guilt of not being able to stop what happened from happening.
Alej would visit you in the infirmary - he'd go into a rant, letting all of his emotions out.
And then would pull you into a kiss.
He's a passionate man and feels his feelings very deeply.
Rudy Parra
Like Alejandro, he's absolutely pissed.
Only difference between him and his comrade is how he shows it.
He's silent - so silent it's borderline scary.
He's livid - one, because you risked your life for him, and two, he's angry that you were so blasé about it.
It was as if you truly valued his life more than your own, and the thought of that alone only serves to make him angrier.
He hovers around in the medical bay while a Medic stitches your wounds closed, his arms crossed across his chest with a stoic expression.
The tension is palpable, and it's as if you can feel his blood boiling even from a distance.
It isn't until the Medic has patched you up and lets you leave that he finally speaks.
"What the fuck were you thinking, Querida / Querido?!"
Proceeds to chew you out for the entire walk back to your room - it was strange to see Rudy so heated, especially towards you, given that he was usually relatively easy going.
But then again, he got the rank of Sergeant Major for a reason.
Once he has his rant out of his system, he sighs, eyeing the bandages covering the expanse of your arm.
You were lucky to have made it back to base in one piece, after the enemy had lunged at Rudy from behind with a hunting knife - you'd jumped in the way, managing to take down the target but not without a fair amount of wounds.
Rudy gently grasped your forearm, thumbing over the soft bandages in thought.
"Please don't do that again, mi amor."
König
This guy would probably disappear for a bit when he realises what happened.
Probably to figure out his own feelings before he sees you again.
Because he's feeling a lot of emotions - anger, being one, guilt is another.
He's not used to anyone putting their own safety at risk for his sake - KorTac had hardly the healthiest of working environments, and mercenaries will typically only watch out for their own backs at the end of the day.
So the fact that you'd put yourself in harms way to keep him safe really doesn't sit right with him at all.
He feels guilty because he let it happen - he was so engrossed with plowing through all the targets he could see that he completely missed the ones that he couldn't.
But you noticed, jumping in the way - taking bullets that were meant for him.
He doesn't remember much of the mission after that - he can blame it on adrenaline and whatever other hormones were pumping through his system at the time, but he knows the real reason why.
The sight of you coughing up blood because of a bullet to the chest made the world slow down for him, his worst nightmare playing out in front of his eyes.
Lingers around the medical bay as Medics and Doctors rush around you, medical jargon flying in the air as you're hooked up to various machines.
His frequent visits don't help quell the rumours swirling around the base - that König, the not-so-gentle giant, had a thing for you - but he couldn't find it in him to care, even if his Superiors were to give him a stern lecture about it.
He makes sure he's there when you wake up - he had a lecture prepared in his head, about how what you did was reckless and stupid, and you shouldn't have risked your life for his.
But the words die on his tongue when he makes eye contact with you, and all he can do is take your hand in his - without his gloves, he was even tempted to take off his hood.
"Don't scare me like that again - ich werde dich nicht zulassen, mein Lieber."
#simon riley#johnny soap mactavish#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#alejandro vargas#rudy parra#konig#simon riley x reader#soap mactavish x reader#gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#rudy parra x reader#alejandro vargas x reader#multifandomimagin3s#cod#call of duty
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simon with a tongue\dick (or both. double threat) piercing. okay thats it have a good day-
GOD YES. YES YES YES RAAHHHH HAVE A GOOD DAY TOO fun fact I pierced my nipples like 2 weeks ago n it was fun
Having a piercer as a girlfriend came with certain advantages despite Simon never considering a piercing before— for example, he could get his entire Jacob's ladder done in one go. You advised him against it, and he was too stubborn to not accept the challenge.
''Fuck!'' He winced, a small hiss escaping his lips as he took a deep breath and tried to stay still, the needle piercing his shaft. It was the last one of the three he decided to get, though it was by far the one that hurt the most.
''Breathe for me, okay? We're almost done.'' You give him time to breathe, waiting until he nods his head to start replacing the needle with the piercing. You look at the end result, a small smile on your face at the work you did on him.
''You okay?'' The behemoth of a man has gotten shot, stabbed, hung by the ribs, tortured, yet this damn piercing on his cock had him almost praying to God or whatever it's out there. It stings, but the initial pain he felt when the needle pierced his skin is almost gone.
''I'm good.'' He reassures, wiping the tears dotting his long eyelashes and taking a deep breath, looking down at his now pierced cock. He's lucky to be on leave for a while, using most of his free days to let it heal.
It takes a while for the piercing to heal until he's able to have sex with you, but once he gets the green light from you? This man is desperate.
''Like that?'' He whispers into your ear, hips slamming against yours as his cock rams into you as deep as he can go, the added sensitivity the piercings give him and how good your wet cunt feels around him makes his eyes roll to the back of his head, grip tightening around your waist as he thrusts faster.
''Fuck, baby—'' Your head tilts back on the pillow as you feel the beads all over your sensitive walls, the added stimulation driving you closer and closer to the edge. His face is buried on the crook of your neck, low growls and deep moans coming out of his lips as his hips slam faster against yours.
''This fuckin' pussy was made for me.'' He whispers softly, eyes closed as he focused on how good it felt to have you in his arms, how perfect you fit with him, how your cunt is a perfect fit for his pierced cock. His hand comes between both of your bodies, thumb rubbing your clit and whiny moans silenced by his lips as he cums with you, tongue managing to slip messily into your mouth while he shoots ropes inside you.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost cod#simon ghost x reader#ghost mw2#cod mwii#simon riley x reader#cod mw2#call of duty#simon riley x you#ghost smut#ghost simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon x reader#ghost x f!reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x y/n#ghost x female reader#mw2 smut#ghost call of duty#cod smut#smut#simon riley smut#piercer!reader#mw2 fanfic#mw2 x reader#mw2 2022#mw2 ghost#call of duty modern warfare 2
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Summary of Samba's S2 Tidbits
Sharing some highlights I found for those who don't have Twitter. Many thanks to those who shared!!
From this thread:
Buttons had a roped tied around him because he kept trying to run back to the sea.
A scene was cut about everyone at Jackie's discussing what they would have in their Dream Boat - Pete said Lucius, Wee John wants to be a room person, Oluwande wants to be with Jim, Roach wants a kitchen.
Izzy was hit with a dry bread sandwich filled with a pickle and dried jerky in S1 and Roach made the same sandwich for when they kicked Blackbeard off in S2. No one knew Taika was going to hit the sandwich to Rhys the three of them came up with it that's why Nathan was laughing.
Calypso's birthday was initially going to be Lucius and Pete's wedding.
Roach is a verified Ned Low Stan!
Improvised scenes: the thumb war (😭), Izzy saying "rude," Roach flipping off Izzy's headstone
A scene of Jim and Oluwande and Archie stepping out of their room in boxers was cut
And from this thread:
S2E6 was not originally going to be be Calypso's birthday, instead it was Black Pete & Lucius wedding. Wee John & Roach were trying to get Ed and Stede to hook up because there was too much sexual tension on the ship. They gave Stede a makeover, Wee John dressed him, Roach pierced his ear and gave him an earing. Then Stede & Ed actually danced! Samba likes what the episode changed to, and that they didn't force the Ed/Stede relationship earlier.
David Fane got bit by an eel on the toe while filming their spa scene. They had to get back into the water to finish filming the scene. You will see in the episode that they are really kicking their feet in the water to scare the eel off.
#emynn.op#ofmd#ofmd bts#I am DELIGHTED and I am DESPERATELY IN NEED OF ANY AND ALL UNUSED FOOTAGE#I will also settle for scripts
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🌆 LOVE U 3000┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ pairing: earth 42!miles morales x reader
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: your life is always interesting now that you're dating the one and only miles morales.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ author's note: the discord server for atsv fans between 13-16 is still open so hmu if you wanna join 😝😝
he cups his hand under your mouth whenever he feeds you food so it won't fall on your clothes.
“here Mami try this” miles cupped his hand under her chin and gently blew in the soup that he had in a spoon so it wouldn't burn your mouth.
your his shadowboxing victim whenever his friends aren't around
he doesn't mind being his nerdy self around you
miles punched the air and faked dodge a nonexistent punch before turning towards you as you sat on his bed with your phone in your hand. “do you think I can defeat batman?” you rolled your eyes and chuckled at him. “Miles he's like twice your size.”
you two obviously play fight for fun. he never once hurt you for real
he gets too lazy to type out his messages sometimes so he resorts into sending you voicenotes instead
deadly ass side eye whenever you jokingly insult him
“that purple hoodie you have on makes you look like grimace” you said with a hand on your mouth to stop the laughter that was about to burst out of her. Miles stopped in his tracks slowly turning his eyes towards you, side eyeing your laughing figure. “you play too much.”
he has the receipt tucked into his wallet from your guy's first date which was at the arcade.
has his lockscreen and wallpaper saved as a picture of you two. he changes it atleast once a month because he adores taking pictures of you.
a bright flash disturbed you from doing your skin care routine. you turned your vanity chair towards the source only to find Miles smiling down at his phone. “did you just take a picture of me?” “um maybe."
you two love to post eachother on your instagrams
bro does not know how to swim 😭😭 if you're able to swim then he'll ask you to teach him but if you can't that still won't stop the two of you from going swimming especially when it's summer
stares at you whenever you're doing your makeup, hair, or even your skincare.
“Morales you're staring.” you joked seeing him stare at you from the corner of your eye. this made Miles scoff “so what?”
he wears a chain with your initial as the pendant and he wears matching bracelets with you.
whenever he sleeps with a bonnet on he wakes up with the end of it hiding one of his eyes.
“what are you laughing at?” he croaked still obviously half asleep. “did you turn emo miles?” you asked before pointing at his bonnet that slipped down, hiding his left eye.
really wanted to get his ears pierced and when he finally got them he was squeezing the blood out of your hands once they held the needle against his hear
you winced at how tight Miles's grip on your hand got. You saw him shut his eyes tightly when the needle went through making the hole for the piercing. Once it was all done he looked down at your hand noticing how red it is which made him laugh. “sorry Mami.”
“five more minutes” warrior. that man refuses to get up early even if you two need to be somewhere on time.
he has a habit of turning towards you with the "did you just see that?" look whenever he sees someone doing something embarrassing.
he'll ask you to come over just so you two can bake together. his mom thinks the two of you are adorable
he has a PC set up with a his gaming chair and right next to it is your set up and chair that he had bought so you two can play together
“do you like it?" Miles said while uncovering your eyes to show you his hard work on setting everything up. the whole setup was based on your favorite colors. “how much did this cost?” you asked making Miles shut you up with a kiss. “don't even worry about it.”
you two danced in the rain once thinking it was a good idea but the both of you ended up sick afterwards
he gifts you a promise ring since you two are too young to get married just yet
has a habit of turning his head so his lips could reach your hand whenever you cup his face
has a whole board filled with pictures of you two either from a polaroid or photobooths
over all gentleman towards you (and his mom ofc)
actually loves physical touch
you were standing up making yourself a sandwich for a late night snack until you felt someone snake their arms around your waist and rest their head against your shoulder. you didn't have to look over your shoulder to figure out who it was. “hey, you hungry?” miles hummed against your shoulder, tightening his grip on your waist. “yeah.”
when you two take the subway he has his arm wrapped around your waist while resting his hand on your hip as his free hand was holding onto one of the poles. he does this no creep comes your way and so you won't fall as the subway can be pretty rough at times.
pulls out his phone whenever you two aren't together in person.
“miss you :(”
“miles I literally just left like a couple minutes ago”
he knows whenever you feel down even if you don't say anything about it
“hermosa, look at me.” he lifted your chin with his hand making you stare up at him. “what's wrong? you're not your usual self.”
respects your boundaries and leaves you alone/drops the subject if you don't feel comfortable talking about it at the moment
“sorry, I just. I just don't wanna talk about it right now.” Miles smiled at you before kissing the top of your hand that he was holding. “it's okay mi niña hermosa, talk to me when you're ready."
#across the spiderverse#atsv#miles morales#atsv imagines#earth42 miles#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles x reader#earth42 miles morales#miles morales x reader#miles morales x y/n
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ೃ⁀➷ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟑 * ੈ✩‧₊˚
➼ 𝙗𝙞𝙢𝙗𝙤𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣
✦ 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗼𝗿!𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘁𝗮 𝗮𝗶𝘇𝗮𝘄𝗮 𝘅 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
✦ 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝘄𝘁 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗼𝗿, 𝗮𝗶𝘇𝗮𝘄𝗮, 𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮 “𝘁𝘂𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴” 𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁.
✦ 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝗯𝗶𝗺𝗯𝗼𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝘀𝗹𝘂𝘁, 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁-𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗼𝗿, 𝗺𝘂𝗳𝗳𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗰𝘂𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗻𝗶𝗽𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆, 𝗲𝘅𝗰 (𝗹𝗺𝗸)
✦ 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 𝟭.𝟮𝗸
✦ 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: 𝗵𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗸𝗲𝘆, 𝗶 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗶𝗻 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗶 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗳 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱, 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝘀𝗳. 𝗶𝗴𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘁𝘆𝗽𝗼𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝘁𝗶𝗲𝗿 𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝟰 𝗺𝗲!!
The lecture hall was empty aside from Professor Aizawa and you, who was sitting on his lap. You grinded your damp, pink panties across the print poking at you through the fabric of your professor’s dress pants. You knew in your head this was wrong, but whenever you saw someone good-looking, no matter who it was, you’d automatically turn into a horny mess.
“You listening, y/n?” he asked smoothly, pretending his dick wasn’t hardened up waiting to feel the warmth of your walls around it. “Sorry, guess I’m distracted” you mumbled, batting your false eyelashes, pretending to be some innocent girl despite your mini skirt riding up your legs.
There was an open book plopped on his desk, along with a few pieces of paper, and some writing utensils too. This “study session” was going well, but as time went on, you became more eager to learn more about what was in your professor’s pants rather than the actual lesson.
“We can’t have that can we?” he whispered into your ear, lifting up your skirt, leaving it sitting loose around your waist. “Needa get your mind off of work for a while?”
You nodded, gently closing the book, scooting it over to the side incase you two went a little crazy and needed more room. “Can you take these off for me, sweetie?” he said, using his index finger to tug on the elastic of your panties before reaching to pull your tight little crop top over your head. “Mhm” you purred, slipping your panties to your ankles leaving them hanging next to your heels.
You felt a a slender hand pushing you against the desk, arching your back into a good position. Biting your lip, you prepared yourself for the feeling of Professer Aizawa’s cock rubbing against your entrance the way you imagined all those days in class before.
As you heard a pants zipper unzip from behind you, your face heated up and your heart began to race. His cold hand gripped your left tit, squeezing your pierced nipple in between his index finger and his middle finger. It took a moment for your body temperature to adjust to his, but right as you thought things had leveled out, you felt the tip of his veiny dick split between your folds and penetrate your pussy.
“Fuck!~” you moaned, vocalizing your pleasure a little too loud, forgetting this was taking place in a classroom. “Quiet, baby” Aizawa soothed, slowly inching the rest of his girthy cock into your wet cunt.
You instinctively nodded, trying ever so hard to hold back any sort of whimper or wail as your pussy loosened to adjust to the girth and length of his dick rubbing against your walls.
You closed your eyes, enjoying his initial slow thrusts. They were languid and affectionate, only leaving a slut like you desperate for more. You bucked your hips and attempted to inch yourself further down onto his cock.
“You want more, sweetie? Think you can take it?”
Whether you thought your cunt could swallow all of his length or not, a quick “Yes-” rolled off your tongue, followed by “Just fuck me please~”.
Aizawa quickly rammed the rest of his cock inside you, unknowingly slamming against your g-spot, leaving you disheveled, aching for the tip of his dick to strike your sweet spot again, at a more frenzied pace.
You stopped leaning on the desk and decided to brace yourself on your professor’s thighs, giving you a good balance. As Professor Aizawa pumped his cock in and out of your pussy, grunting as he played with your nipples, you began to bounce on his dick, using one of your hands to stretch yourself open even wider.
“If you keep wearing slutty clothes like this, you wont be the only one distracted in my class you know” he teased, gripping your waist and slamming every inch of him into you all at once.
“Mhm-“ you stammered unable to find words to appropriately reply to his banter. Your head jerked as the force of a hand tugging your hair pulled you backwards. “Are you listening, Ms. l/n?”
Your cunt tightened on his cock as if it we’re trying to influence his body to continue moving. His tip applied pressure to your g-spot as he sat there, waiting for you to reply.
“Yes, sir- Listening-“ you cooed, lying through your teeth, simply trying get him to fuck you unapologetically rough, leaving you out of breath. “Promise if I fuck you good, you’ll do better in my class?” he taunted, slowly moving himself within your body.
A needy “Promise~” fell from your lips on impulse, bringing tears to your eyes knowing you couldn’t yell as loud as you wanted to. A sense of hopelessness washed over you, as you could feel every part of your body begging to touched. However, it was then your professor stood up from his chair and bent you over, now pinning you to the desk in the exact same spot you cleared room for earlier.
A gasp tried to come out of your mouth due to the sudden movement, but Aizawa had already placed his hand over your mouth and began brutally pounding your cunt. “This what it take for girls like you to pass my class? Getting used like a cumslut?”
A set of muffled moans filled the room, as the will power you had to hold any noises back had disappeared the moment his pace had picked up. Tears began to roll down your face as your pleasure reached it’s peak and your body attempted run from the cock you’d been begging for all this time.
Your hand grasped at the air and you pleaded into the hand of your professor, as his length caused you to paint his dick white and drip cum onto the pants hanging around his ankles.
The euphoric feeling of your walls clenching down on his dick, lead to your mascara running down your cheek. A few grunts and groans came out his mouth before he quickly removed himself from your cunt, leaving you feeling relieved, but empty and ready for more.
Professor Aizawa gave himself a few pumps before releasing his nut onto your back, leaving some residue on the mini skirt he had pulled upon your waist. You layed there catching your breath as he reached down and pulled your panties up for you, redressing you with your shirt and cum covered skirt as well.
Eventually, you sat up and Professor Aizawa pulled you close to his face. Taking his thumb, he wiped away your running mascara, before moving his hand to your chin, placing a small kiss on your forehead. “When you go home make sure you study, baby. Mkay?” he whispered gently, as if he were a completely different person than the one that was corrupting you, making you cry tears of pleasure just moments before.
You replied with a small, sinless “kay~” before grabbing your purse that was set aside and limping your way towards the exit of the building. However, little did your professor know, instead of studying when you got home, you simply began planning out an even sluttier outfit for tomorrow in hopes that maybe he’d see you again and you two could start a nightly routine of hooking up together for the rest of that term.
#aizawa x you#aizawa x reader#aizawa shōta#mha aizawa#aizawa smut#bnha aizawa#aizawa x y/n#aizawa x student!reader#aizawa shouta#aizawa sensei#shota aizawa#mha smut#mha x reader#mha imagines#mha fanfiction#bhna x reader#bhna smut#bhna fanfiction#bhna imagine#mha headcanons#smut#mr aizawa#mha#bhna#bhna headcanons#aizawa#kinktober#kinktok#smutober#oc tober 2023
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If The Sun Ever Rises | Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1 | To See You Again
SUMMARY | After narrowly escaping the Battle Above God’s Eye, Prince Aemond is now a hidden fugitive within the very kingdom he once ruled. Driven by vengeance, he plans to usurp Aegon III and avenge his family. His rage-blinded path to the throne begins with getting rid of Cregan Stark and the men who support his nephew’s rule. Having nothing to lose, he recklessly kidnaps the Northerner’s betrothed - his own niece - hoping to lure him and his men out to fight.
Soon, Aemond finds that memories of a first love are strong, and that he cannot steel his heart against the woman he has loved all his life.
WARNINGS | 18+; Smut; Canon Divergence - Aemond lives (but barely); Violence; Stockholm Syndrome; Mental and Physical Trauma; Angst; Canon Incest; Manipulation; No Happy Endings In This House YAY
WORD COUNT | 2k
Text Divider by @saradika
They had been running for three days now.
Slivers of moonlight pierced through the dense canopy above. The twisted and gnarled branches of trees, like skeletal fingers grasping for the Seven Heavens, cast their eerie shadows across the forest floor. The tangled roots snaked across the damp earth and moss clung to the ancient trunks like a dark shroud.
The air was heavy with the scent of damp soil and decaying leaves, mingling with the sweet aroma of wildflowers that dared to bloom amidst the darkness. Faint whispers seemed to echo through the tangled undergrowth, as if the very forest itself held secrets long forgotten.
As they ascended the hill, the terrain grew steeper, the path narrow and treacherous. Each step was a struggle against the relentless pull of gravity, the earth slick with dew beneath their feet. Aemond held onto her hand as tightly as she could - she hadn’t allowed him to touch her initially, having been in shock at being abducted from the arms of her betrothed - but there was only so much a defeated, tired princess could do on her own.
She panted from exertion. The blood on her face was dry now – he’d needed to hurt her to get her to comply. She looked at him with all the anger that he knew she was never capable of, and a forgotten corner of his mind yearned for an easier time when she’d held different feelings for him.
In an ideal world, there would have been no war. He could have married her, just as he’d promised in the protected darkness of the nights in hidden chambers and intimate correspondences. They could have been happy.
Though his thirst for vengeance was screaming at him, a small part of his mind wished for a quieter time; a time that would never come.
His family was dead, and he needed her to balance the scales. He owed Helaena that much. He owed Aegon that much. Mother, Daeron, Criston, sweet Jaehaerys, and Maelor - all his kith and kin. He had failed them all.
He would be damned to all Seven Hells before letting their deaths mean nothing.
At the hill's summit, the forest parted, revealing a precipice that loomed over the land below. The distant glimmer of moonlight danced upon the surface of a winding river, its waters black as night. He let go of her, and she fell to her knees, relishing the feeling of a flat surface and slower breaths as she bid her heart to slow down. He watched her ears perk up as she heard the crunch of his boots over the dry leaves, stalking towards her in that catlike stealth that he had taught himself to have.
He took her by surprise as he tightened his arm around her chest and grabbed her by the neck, making her body twitch in fear as she rose involuntarily. At the edge of the abyss, he turned her around to face him as he let the cold steel of his blade kiss her skin and travel over her frayed white dress from neck to navel.
How did we come to this?
She did not recognize the man in front of her.
He was the boy who had brought her books when her brothers teased her to the point of crying; who had kept her company in her grief of being a dragonless Targaryen; who had held her hand and promised that he would marry her; the one who had come rushing to her the night he claimed Vhagar, promising to take her on a ride.
He was the man who had taunted her and her brothers' parentage at a family supper; who had kissed her senseless in a lone passageway the very same night when he found out that Rhaenrya had no intention of letting him have her. He was the man who had killed sweet, mischievous Luke; the one whom she had left behind when she had been sent to the North; the one whom she had hoped would come and take her away, against all odds.
So many memories tied to him, inexplicably. And yet, she did not recognize the man in front of her.
As a boy, he had had such striking eyes - in color, but more so in the volatility of their regard. Always flitting about, looking for things to imbibe, to brand into his memory. His functional eye had grown different since she had last seen him - distant, devoid of the charming curiosity that would shine in his violet orb.
The eye of a war-worn murderer. He had probably brought her here because he wanted to kill her too.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” she whispered the words, almost uncertain. The coldness of his Valyrian steel dagger made goosebumps rise up on the planes of her skin, and yet, she surprisingly found that she was scared, not in the least.
He smirked and leaned in close to her, the leather strap of his eyepatch grazing her temple as she let the warmth of his breath bloom over her face. He raised the blade to her neck and teased her, being so bold as to let out a throaty, exhausted laugh that sounded more maniacal than anything else. She shut her eyes closed, hoping that if she could keep her world dark, she could pretend that this was all a nightmare.
She had often dreamt that he would take her away. She had hoped and hoped and hoped, and now that he was here, she couldn’t fathom how wrong she had been to wish for it.
Silly little fool.
“Sharp, sweet niece.”
His tone made her flinch. His voice was rough and predatory - so much so that she couldn’t tell if it was him or the situation itself that made her feel that way. “You’re supposed to be dead. Daemon….”
Her voice was lost in the air as he raised his eyebrow, a menacing smile in place as he pressed the blade into her skin - just enough to make a few blood red spots bloom. “I killed him. He thought he was better than me, the old fool. I stabbed him in his right eye, the very one that I lost. Vengeance, dear niece…” His thumb collected the first drop of blood that dripped from where he had made his mark, “... makes for the sweetest of spoils. And I intend to taste more of this victory…”
It happened on instinct, her reaching out to hold his wrist tight through his shirt. The irony of taking the hand of the man who wanted to hurt her and counting on him to not let her fall was not lost on her; but if she didn’t, she was sure she would faint.
“...With you.”
The last words confused her, having her mind scrabbling to piece the puzzle and figure out his intent. “Me?” She leaned her head back to breathe and put some space between her and his blade, but that only spurned him more as he pulled her to him by the back of her neck.
“Aegon, Helaena, Criston, Jaeherys, Maelor, mother…vengeance for them all. When he comes for you, to save you… I’ll kill him, and then I’ll kill the little boy that you call a King. Take what is rightfully mine and avenge them.”
The Aemond she had known was too calculated, too weary to tell anyone anything at all. But this, this wasn’t her Aemond. This was a different man - a mad killer, a stranger; one that intended to use her in his rage-filled path to regicide and revenge.
When he comes for you, to save you… I’ll kill him.
She could only think of one man who would come looking for her. Her betrothed, Cregan Stark - the same man who had shown her Northern hospitality and shared his home and hearth so she could be kept safe away from the bloodshed of the war.
And Aemond wanted to kill him. He wanted to kill them all and take the Iron Throne.
“Gods…”
She had always felt compelled to help during the war. She wasn’t a skilled warrior, nor was she a bold woman. Dainty little sweetheart, her mother used to call her. How can I manage to keep you safe and sound?
She had always wanted to help her mother - be a good daughter and play her part in helping her sit the Throne, as was her birthright. When she had been sent to the North as Cregan Stark’s betrothed, Rhaenyra Targaryen had told her that this was her duty, her contribution to the Blacks’ victory.
You will help me win by keeping my mind at ease about you, child, she had said. You will help me win by staying safe and bringing the Northerners’ allegiance to our cause.
That had been her contribution, but it hadn’t been enough. Daemon, Luke, Jace, Joffrey, Rhaenys… they’re all dead. She had done what she could, and it was not enough.
And now, Aemond wanted to kill sweet Aegon. Her beloved brother, the little one who held the weight of the world on his shoulders. He would make a fine king, she knew - but not if Aemond was going to lure Cregan out to fight and make him vulnerable to attacks.
She’d be damned to all Seven Hells if she let him win.
He had been observing her, it seemed. As she let her thoughts sweep her away, he had taken to watching her, reminding himself of every inch of her. She raised her hand to his warm dry cheek, bony from what could have only been a lack of proper food. How long has he been staying here, amidst the trees?
“You don’t have to do this, uncle. Let me go now, and it’ll be like it never happened. There’s been enough bloodshed.”
She thought she imagined it, but she knew it was true when she felt his grip on the blade falter for just a moment. She made good on his momentary lapse and kicked his knee to fold under him with all her might. He fell, and she took hurried steps away from him as he grunted in pain.
Her skirts swirled as she turned just slightly, sneaking a peek off the edge of the hill. If she jumped, she would fall into the waters that ran below - but would that be enough? She’d have to die. She had to. She would not let him use her; she would not let him kill them.
This was her contribution to the war. Her deceased mother’s victory lay in her daughter’s ability to keep the rightful king alive. This was her chance, and she was not going to fail her. He stood up with panting breaths, and she looked him in the eye as boldly as she could, knowing very well that she might as well be living her last and final moments.
She had always wanted to fly - and if she wasn’t going to do it now, then when would she?
She closed her eyes and threw herself over the edge, seeing the sky become a fading memory as she made the steep drop. Halfway through, she opened her eyes and saw him leaning over the edge, panicked, watching her free-falling figure from the hilltop as she flew, flew, flew.
She fell into the water, making contact with sharp tree branches and thorns on the way down in her descent. The blood on her face and body mixed with the water that surrounded her, and blood-red ripples muddled her vision as she closed her eyes.
Water filled her nostrils, and her vision went dark in a matter of mere moments.
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A/N: Got so inspired by the S2 poster, I managed to finish this damn thing hehe. This was a lot more fast paced than my usual writing style, and I'd love to hear what you guys think! I've been really out of touch with fic writing, and feedback is always welcome :)
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#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x female reader#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen smut#ewan mitchell#aemond x fem!reader#aemond x you#aemond x reader#aemond x y/n#aemond smut#aemond fanfic#aemond targaryen fic#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond fanfiction#aemond one eye#prince aemond targaryen#prince aemond#aemond targaryen x ofc#aemond targaryen x oc#aemond targaryen fan fiction#aemond fic#aemond#pro aemond targaryen#aemond stannies#aemond angst#aemond targaryen angst#aemond targaryen fanfiction
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Eddie has a test.
It took some time to formulate, a few too many times with guys careless with his heart, who leave behind more heartache than happiness littered in their memory. It’s fucking hard to tell.
More than once, there’s been a dude who promises between kisses i’m not going anywhere and takes more than his fill during a night which Eddie desperately hopes is passion and not some misguided lust. Only to wake a familiar empty side of the bed, them gone — skipping town, back in the arms of their parent-approved girlfriend, or back to spitting his name out with the word freak.
It’s what the test is for.
It’s specific, purposeful, all intending to weed out the straight boys who liked to dip their toes in the pool of queerness and leave Eddie to any consequences of the heart. Eddie doesn’t want to turn cruel, to be too jaded after feeling used too many times. It’s what the test is for. Protect the heart, see what interest is genuine.
Right now, he’s putting the test on Jared. New in town and in Eddie’s life, he’d captured the metalhead’s gaze from the glint of his pierced ear and light eyes that lingered. Kissed a little mean, and with too much teeth, but Eddie chalked it up to excitement. Jared seemed good. Nodded and smiled when Eddie found himself wrapped up in yet another DnD spiel. Said he found it endearing.
The test is simple.
A bid, a nudge, for attention. Never anything big or too exciting— that always got him specifically warped smirks designed to lead him along. Just something minuscule, like will you come take a look at my notes? or can i play you that riff once more? to see if it gave.
The pattern runs deep in Eddie’s dating history; same ol’ jerks who couldn’t bother to come and look at his new DnD sketches are always the ones who are only leasing a new sexuality for a month. It’s like setting a minefield and seeing who stumbles on a landmine, the bids getting ignored is as early as a warning sign he’ll ever get.
He tries the test on Jared.
It’s a Thursday night and Jared’s round at the trailer, lounging on Eddie’s sheets and still a little flushed from the night’s earlier activities. Usually it’s a good sign when the guys stick around after sex, not flying out the door once they’ve got what they want. By now, Eddie has drifted away from his bed, skittish thoughts already off and away with new campaign ideas.
He’s scrawling in a character design, some new boss, half troll, half hellhound, that requires a lot of finicky details worked out. The page is covered in scribbles, nothing in any semblance of lines and a crude first sketch is in the middle. It’s not quite the vision he had in mind but it took him an hour, so he’s hardly going to erase it. Besides, it looks pretty fucking metal to him.
“Hey,” Eddie calls out, a bit soft. No pet-names used— most of the time boys didn’t like them and wrinkled their nose. Those that didn’t mind, never returned them. “Can I show you the sketch I’ve been working on?”
He pauses, then launches into an explanation without waiting for a response, “It’s for the new campaign I’ve been planning, one of the bosses, and honestly, those little shrimps have no idea what’s coming for them.”
Jared, still slouched on the bed, peeks up a bit at the noise. He hadn’t really been doing much, just leafing through some of the junk beside Eddie’s bed. If Eddie let himself hold any hope, he would say it’s because he wants to know more about Eddie.
“Huh?” Jared asks, genuine enough that Eddie thinks maybe he didn’t hear him.
“A DnD boss?” Eddie says, eyebrows raising. He barrels on, thinking about how Dustin had helped propose the new boss, with a grin spreading across Eddie’s face. “Dustin, the little twerp, challenged me to pick a random combination of creatures and mash em’ together- see what crazy abilities come from it.”
“Who’s Dustin?” Jared asks, failing to sound like he cares. His eyes have wandered elsewhere, head falling back on the pillow and Eddie’s initial question about the sketch is long, long gone.
Oof. And that’s like 3 failed bids at one time because Eddie talks about Dustin all the time. Jared clearly isn’t interested in Eddie Munson, just what he can offer. Eddie’s heart grows a little colder.
“Look, I think I’m gonna get going, yeah?” Jared says, maybe sensing Eddie’s mood change as he begins to sit up and tug his shirt back over his bare skin. His sticks his feet in his shoes, laces them up. Eddie nods, tucks his notebook behind him and walks him out, plastering on a smile the whole time.
After ambling down the stairs to the trailer, Jared turns back, after searching the surrounding area for leering eyes, and he reaches out and gives Eddie’s hand a squeeze. Just a split second, before it flies back to his side.
Eddie would like to believe that he’s at least worthy of a goodbye kiss. Even if some wicked part of his brain says he’s not, that boys like Eddie Munson don’t get sweet goodbye kisses. Don’t get good relationships, just mindless flings.
The thought makes hurt flares in his gut, Eddie so desperately trying to protect his hope, and so before Jared can say anything, some pitiful goodbye, Eddie leans out the doorway and says, “Don’t call me.” then slams the trailer door.
It follows him around for the next week, his own personal storm-cloud to keep his head grey even when it’s sunny out. He mopes to Robin about it during her shift, probably the only other person he can talk to about it.
“So, you tested him? What does that even mean? Is there a gay test you know about that you haven’t told me about? That would be so uncool, man.”
She’s talking as she types, half paying attention to the computer. Steve is out in between the shelves, putting out a new batch of films— Eddie knows because he’d instinctively sought him out when he came in. Harrington was a pretty boy, sue him for wanting to enjoy the view.
Didn’t help he was also decidedly declared not-a-douchebag by Eddie during the whole upside down spiel and had the duality of biting off that bat’s head and somehow being the world’s biggest sweetheart for his friends. Friends that now included Eddie.
What can you say? Going through that much together, including killing a death wizard and getting dragged out of an alternate dimension certainly forms some strong bonds. Plus, Steve was hot.
(Eddie denies the crush on the basis that would. never. happen.)
At the reminder of Vecna, Eddie winces and supposes he should be lucky he gets any sort of attention after that whole scandal. But it doesn’t stop him from draping himself across the front counter, laying pathetically with a pout on his lips. He shakes his head fervently at her question.
“Not a gay test, Robin.” He stresses. “It’s the Eddie-Munson-is-this-boy-gonna-stick-around-test.”
He rolls up onto his elbows and props his head into his waiting palms. “Gotta make sure I’m not being treated like some common whore.”
It’s meant to be a joke, a usual joking lilt to his voice, but the end of the sentences comes out a bit too bitter to land that way.
Robin’s sympathetic expression makes Eddie’s chest twinge in a way he doesn’t like. He waves her off. Slumps back down a bit before deciding he’s done enough wallowing in the public eye.
Robin doesn’t say anything as he pulls out his usual notebook, pages weathered and filled. Eddie usually hangs around the store on days without plans, flits between Robin and Steve, and scribbles in his notebook. She bites her lip, gaze moving between the book and the resigned expression on Eddie’s face as he turns to the latest page— the strange hellhound troll mashed up boss.
“Okay, I’ll bite—what’s the test involve?” She asks, pausing in her typing for a moment. Her hands don’t stop moving, still stressing the fabric of her pants twitchily. Eddie perks his head up, clutching his pencil a bit tighter and rolls right into it.
“It’s not even really a test, technically, but doesn’t matter- that’s just what I call it - it’s like a bid?”
Robin raises her brows and they disappear under her fringe. “A bid?”
“Yeah! A bid!” He waves his arms around as he speaks, gesticulating a bit wildly. “It’s like— like asking them to come look at something stupid and small, just to see if they’ll give your interests time of the day, yanno?”
He punches a finger down into his sketchbook. “A guy who can’t even be bothered to look at a sketch I worked on for an hour? Douchebag.”
Eddie’s tone turns a bit sing-song as he continues, like it’ll somehow distract from the bleakness of them. “Ergo, not sticking around.”
Robin’s hands finally stop their messing, becoming completely still against her legs. She finally swivels her body to face Eddie, a furrow between her brows. Her lips are quirked up, just a bit, like she knows something Eddie doesn’t. He feels his apprehension grow as he slumps his chin back into his hands.
“You mean, like how Steve is with you?”
Eddie stands a bit straighter at that, some flushed combination of disbelief mixing with delight flooded his body.
“What?” It comes out a bit more squeaky than intended. Eddie clears his throat, waves his hands, anything to stop that smirk from spreading across Robin’s face — he can feel his cheeks glow a bit warmer at the mere idea. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Robin smiles a bit and nods over to where Steve is. “Try it, test him.”
Eddie follows her nod, casting his eyes across the store to find Steve. He finds him situated in the romance section, a pile of cardboard box stacked beside him, the top box open and ready to be unpacked.
But Steve’s clearly been distracted by the first film in the box — he’s sunk deep into his mom-stance with one hip popped, one hand on his hip, the other holding the film as he reads the back cover of it very intently.
Eddie watches for just a moment, watches Steve squint and pull the case just a bit closer, wrinkle his nose adorably, snort a little laugh at whatever he’s reading — and dammit, this is just a fast track to insanity if Eddie watches him any longer.
“Steve,” he calls, too hesitant and too quiet. Steve’s head doesn’t move, he just flips the cover back over, marveling at the front. Eddie tries again. “Harrington!”
Steve’s head pops up, eyes skirting about to see who’s calling him. He doesn’t move when he sees it’s Eddie calling, just raises his brows. “Yeah?”
Eddie swallows, tries not to think of Robin paying close attention to both him and Steve. He grips his notebook a bit tighter even though he’s not entirely convinced Robin’s right. Steve Harrington doesn’t like DnD — not even for Dustin who has self-proclaimed himself Steve’s ‘adorable little brother that he never had’. Steve is hardly going to care if it’s Eddie asking.
“Do you wanna take a look at this sketch I’m working on?” He asks, as casual as he can.
Steve’s features give away just a hint of surprise, a blink as he comprehends what’s been said. Eddie holds his breath, ready to turn to Robin and say ‘I told you so!’ and to pretend that he’s not secretly hoping Steve will say yes.
“Sure,” Steve says, slotting the film back into the cardboard box and beginning to meander between the shelves towards the front desk. Eddie doesn’t even get time to be surprised because Steve’s suddenly there, in front of him, all expectant.
Eddie opens his mouth, thinks the better of it, and snaps it back closed. Instead, he thrusts the notebook to the side along the countertop, opened to the page of the sketch and doesn’t say anything. In the background, Robin snorts lightly. Eddie shoots her a glare.
If Eddie could look at Steve, he’d see the lightly amused expression on his face, but Eddie only focuses on the book. Really focuses. God, if he looks at Steve he’ll probably get some stupid mooned expression on his face that would totally give away his tiny stupid not-a-crush.
In his peripheral, he can see Steve sidle a little closer and lean over to peer at the page. And while he looks over it intently, Eddie let’s his eyes drift up, taking in the side of his face.
Curses his stupid handsome face. Then curses it some more when Steve lights up in recognition, turning to Eddie, excited to have a sliver of an idea what Eddie’s showing him. Normally, it’s all mumbo-jumbo to Steve. Not that he hasn’t tried to keep up but those kids are ahead of the curve and Steve wasn’t about to embarrass himself asking them to slow down their explanations.
“Woah, is this that one that Dustin was talking about?” Eddie thinks there might be a bit of genuine excitement leaking into Steve’s words.
“The weird like, mashed up, uh, what’s the word? Hyp- hypb—“
“Hybrid,” Eddie supplies, voice cool. His heart is not feeling so cool. Jesus Christ, Steve wasn’t supposed to pass Eddie’s test— he wasn’t even supposed to be tested. In order for that happen, they’d have to even be fooling around and Eddie blames his building blush on that mere suggestion.
“Yeah!” Steve raps his knuckles against the countertop and takes a second look at the drawing, closer this time. He looks back up at Eddie, so he knows he’s completely sincere when he says, “This is really cool, man.”
“Okay.” Eddie breathes, sounding a bit stupid. He remembers himself, remembers Robin watching him essentially bluescreen at the praise from Steve and wrenches his awed smile into a familiar smug type of grin.
“Of course it is, Steve-o,” He quickly amends, reaching back and tugging the notebook back. It’s closes with a quick snap, like Eddie’s afraid Steve will take another look. “She’s not finished yet, of course.”
Eddie had to bite his tongue to keep it from either taking an insanely egotistical route to pretend Steve’s praise hadn’t had a profound effect on him, or even worse, start trying to suddenly be humble — oh this ol’ thing? it’s nothing really, just threw it together quickly— Eddie nearly melts against the counter in relief when the bell on the front door saves him.
A customer enters the store, instantly taking Steve’s attention and he bounds off to help them, an easy smile on his face.
Eddie waits until Steve and the customer wandered off into the aisles to release his breath. He doesn’t look at Robin, just turns and presses his forehead down against the countertop. Then raises it just a bit, and thunks it back down, a couple of times for good measure.
“Okay, okay—“ Robin’s gone a bit wide eyed and she waves her hands at Eddie’s pathetic form, his head still bonking against the counter. “Stop doing that. Jesus, Eddie, are the dramatics always necessary?”
His motions stop at Robin’s words and Eddie’s whips his head up. He narrows his eyes at her, and as if to prove his point, exaggeratedly jabs a finger at her.
“Hey! Never deny my right to be a drama queen. It is my god given right as an American citizen—”
“He passed.” Robin says, cutting off what was about to be a very long rant about god knows what. Eddie just didn’t want her to say what she was about to. “Your test. He passed, didn’t he?“
That. He didn’t want her to say that.
“He’s being a good friend! A very good nice friend!” Eddie counters, only sounding a little bit whiny which takes half the conviction out of his words. He slams his hands down against the wood. “That test is for— it’s not for him! It’s for—”
An annoyed noise comes out of Eddie’s throat and he aims for one more thunk of his head against the counter before tugging it back up and meeting Robin’s smug expression. She’s too smug. Her whole face is smug smug smug and Eddie scowls. He points a deliberate finger at her again.
“Different context, alright? That—” He waves an arm behind him, in the direction of Steve carelessly. “—doesn’t count. Nope. Not- that’s not how the test works.”
Robin sighs, as if she realises how fruitless it is to keep chucking this argument between the two of them. Her hands finally resume their typing and Eddie lets his head drop again, this time resting it against the wood a tad more gentle. He slumps, blowing a pointless raspberry as he tries to evacuate every thought that’s entertaining Steve as more. Or Steve wanting more of Eddie.
“Look,” Robin says suddenly, halting her typing once more. Eddie rolls his head so he can see her but doesn’t bother to lift it. She’s sideways in his vision, but still barreling on in that Robin way. “One last thing and then I swear, I’ll leave it.”
Eddie raises his brows. Says nothing.
“Have you considered,” She pauses, and appears to be trying to pick her words carefully. “whether anyone else is putting their bids on you?”
Eddie wrinkles his nose, knowing exactly what she’s hinting at. Subtlety has never been Robin’s strong suit. It’s even more obvious when her eyes dart across the store — Eddie seriously doubts she’s talking about the random customer that had just entered.
“Just think about it?” She pleads, and Eddie feels his annoyance at how easily he can feel his heart roll over. “See if you notice any bids from... anyone! Anyone at all.”
Eddie picks his head up, chances a glance towards Steve and admits, there’s no harm in trying. Even though, Steve had surprised him today Eddie can find a dozen reasons to chalk that up to. A dozen reasons that don’t include mutual feelings.
Eddie mulls it over, because because what are the chances really? Steve putting bids out to him? To specifically Eddie? The chances are slim to none.
So the answer he gives is, “Sure.”
He’ll get to tell Robin later she can stuff it and wipe her smug expression off with the most righteous i told you so on the planet. There was no way she was right about this, right?
Part two. Part three.
#this is not nearly as edited as most things that come out this blog#but i was going for those rambly posts i see of them all da time#<3#steddie my beloved#ruby writes steddie#steddie#steve x eddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fic#posting this at an odd time bcos it’s not what da usual followers expect#anyways i trust the gay ppl…… they will find this
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I love your writing, could there possibly be a third instalment of keep you warm please 🥹
cravings
3.4k | Joel Miller x f!reader | one-shot
post-outbreak, established relationship, pregnancy, smooching
Summary: Your pregnancy hormones have you craving three things: figs, coffee, and Joel. He’s more than happy to accommodate you.
A/N: Anon, thank you so much for your sweet message!! I'm so happy you liked keep you warm and never felt so loved. Both fics are very special to me, so it means a lot that you connected with them. Enjoy this one and please let me know what you think! 🤍
“Joel.”
You peer at his peaceful face, but his slumbering form remains undisturbed. He seems to be lost in the realm of dreams, showing no signs of stirring.
Undeterred, you lean in a little closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you repeat his name, the warmth of your breath a gentle caress. Still, the subtle symphony of your voice fails to penetrate the fortress of his sleep, especially on the side of his deaf ear.
Realizing your gentle approach might not suffice, you decide on a more direct method. With a hesitant resolve, you extend your hand and give his shoulder a tender shake, hoping to wake him up.
“Joel,” you say a bit louder, the gentleness of your initial attempts replaced by a touch of urgency.
As Joel finally begins to wake, his eyes flicker open, and his gaze immediately darts to your face. He turns towards you, and his hand instinctively finds its way to your belly. His touch is both tender and firm, as if grounding himself in the reality of the life blossoming within you.
“What’s wrong?” he mumbles, worry evident in his voice. The urgency in his tone reflects the immediate need to ensure your well-being.
You’re only seven months pregnant; it’s far too early for the baby to arrive. Did he miss any signs that something is wrong with you? You’ve been uncomfortable and you’ve been experiencing horrible back pain for the past few weeks, yes, but besides that, you seemed fine, right?
It’s typical of you to keep quiet and hide your pain from him. What if he wasn’t attentive enough? He shouldn’t have left you alone at home for so long, he should have taken better care of you. This can’t be happening again, please, God–
“Joel,” you interrupt his racing thoughts, sensing the mounting panic radiating off his body. You place a reassuring hand on his warm chest, and the other over his on your bump. “Breathe. It’s okay. The baby’s fine. I’m fine.”
Relief washes over him, but confusion quickly takes over as he notices the glisten of tears on your moonlit cheeks. Concern deepens the furrows on his forehead as he searches your eyes for an explanation.
“What happened, darlin’?” he asks, his voice a gentle murmur, trying his best to remain calm.
“I…I love you so much,” you finally blurt out, your voice breaking. Unable to contain the surge of emotions any longer, you let your tears fall freely. The intensity of your love for him feels overwhelming, almost painful, tonight. You know it’s silly, but you can’t help it.
You need him to know.
Joel blinks, his brain needing a few seconds to register your unexpected declaration of love. As he processes the situation and your words, the realization dawns that the unpredictable currents of pregnancy hormones must have taken hold of you. His expression immediately softens, a hint of amusement replacing his initial confusion.
“Well, now ain’t that a sweet thing to wake me up for.”
You sniffle, feeling a bit offended by his nonchalant response.
“Joel, I’m serious. It–it hurts, you know? My heart feels like it’s going to burst with love for you and I feel like I’m gonna die if I can’t get you to understand how much I love you. Please tell me you understand and–and that you know and will never forget? Please?”
Your voice breaks again as your big, watery eyes pierce Joel’s soul. He sits up, his face softening further as he realizes the depth of your feelings.
“C’mere,” he says, pulling you into his arms. You rest your head against his chest as his hand rubs soothing circles on your back.
“I understand, sweetheart,” he murmurs against the crown of your head. “I know how much you love me, even though I need to pinch myself sometimes to make sure I’m not dreamin’.” He gently strokes the back of your head. “Why such a wonderful person like you would love a grumpy old man like me is beyond me, but I’ve accepted it a long time ago. I know you do, darlin’. You can be sure of that.”
Your gratitude echoes in a soft “thank you” against his warm chest, the emotional weight on your shoulders lifting slightly as you try to steady your breathing. Sitting up next to him, you turn to meet his dark, alert eyes, your vulnerability laid bare.
“I just…what is wrong with me? I’ve never been this emotional. It’s exhausting and it sucks so bad,” you admit, a hint of frustration coloring your words. You look into his eyes, seeking understanding and reassurance.
“I know I probably sound like a crazy person, but I honestly don’t know what to do with all this love for you. It’s like it’s too much for me. And…I don’t wanna freak you out or be too clingy, you know, I’m really trying to give you space, I am. It’s just too much right now and I feel so lost and scared that you don’t actually, fully understand what you mean to me. And–and it’s breaking my heart.”
You’re gesticulating wildly, hiccups occasionally disturbing your stream of consciousness.
“Sweetheart,” Joel chuckles as he takes your hands into his. “It’s alright, I promise. Too much love? I’m pretty sure that’s a problem most folks would like to have.”
You give him a playful glare, though your eyes are still damp. “You’re not taking me seriously.”
He shakes his head, cupping your tear-streaked face in his hands. “I am, darlin’, I am. I know how much you love me. I can feel it every day.” He gently rubs your cheeks with his thumbs. “But maybe, just maybe, the pregnancy hormones are playin’ a little trick on you tonight. They can make everything feel like it’s a hundred times more intense. But you ain’t crazy, and there’s nothin’ wrong with you,” he assures you with a soft smile.
You huff a laugh, despite your emotional state. “It’s not a trick, Joel. I really, really love you.”
He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And I love you too, sweetheart, more than words can say. And about bein’ too clingy? Forget that immediately. You know I like havin’ you close.” He kisses both of your wet cheeks with his warm lips, sending a tingling sensation down your spine. “Ain’t no such thing as too much love, especially when it comes from you.”
His words carry a sincerity that resonates in your bedroom, and the corners of his lips curl into a teasing grin. “But, sweetheart, I gotta admit, I’m flattered. Never thought little ole me would have someone as lovely as you worryin’ so much about his heart.”
A deep sigh escapes you as his lips find the sensitive skin of your neck, his hands delicately tracing the curve of your swelling belly. His words, a whispered acknowledgment of the warmth you bring to his life, stir a tender emotion within you.
“You’ve got a real knack for makin’ a man feel special, you know that?”
Your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to the sensations of Joel’s touch, and a soft hum escapes your lips, your breath quickening with anticipation. In a barely audible whisper, you express your need for him, the desire between you two growing with each passing moment. The air becomes charged with an electric energy, and as your hand moves down his belly, the mutual longing intensifies to a fever pitch.
Joel, unable to resist the urge to have you, pulls you onto his lap, his arms enveloping you, drawing you close. The hunger that has been simmering throughout the day is unleashed in a passionate kiss that conveys the overwhelming depth of your craving for this man. Clothes are shed in a frenzy, the urgency of the moment fueled by a shared longing that borders on painful.
“Let me show you how much I love you, darlin’,” he whispers against your lips, his hands exploring your body with an intensity that mirrors the fervor of your own desire. “I promise you’ll be able to sleep after.”
– – –
The next morning arrives with the soft glow of dawn, casting gentle shadows across the room. As you slowly awaken, the enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee tickles your senses. Joel, ever considerate of your morning routine, has prepared enough of it for you to savor as soon as you rise.
With sleepy eyes, you make your way to the kitchen, where the rich scent of the precious beverage beckons. Joel’s thoughtful gesture warms your heart, and you can’t help but smile at the simple yet meaningful act of love.
“Have I ever told you that your dad is the best?” you ask your baby, rubbing soft circles on your belly. “He would always let me have some of his coffee when we were on the road because he knew how much I liked it. Even before we fell in love. And now that you’re making me have all of these wonderful cravings, he’s making sure I get my cup every single day. Isn’t that nice?”
As you take that first sip, the warmth of the coffee spreads through you, dispelling the remnants of sleep. The familiar flavor grounds you, letting you forget your aching body and anxious mind for a minute.
“What are you in the mood for, little one? Apart from kicking me and pressing on my bladder, of course.” You smile to yourself and watch the snowflakes dancing outside the window. “I think a stroll to the greenhouse sounds nice, hm? Maybe they have new vegetables or fruits we can try. I’m still dreaming about that fig your dad brought us a few months ago, you know? You were still tiny back then, but I think you must’ve liked it.”
You’ve repeatedly woken up from vivid dreams of eating the luscious fruit, felt the juice running down your chin, only to—very disappointedly—realize that you’d been sucking on your pillow instead.
You sigh and drink the rest of your coffee in silence before getting ready, putting on your oversized winter coat, your wooly hat, and your boots. All gifts from Maria. Maybe you could visit her today, too. You’ve been trying to make an effort to get to know her and Tommy better, after all. For Joel, mostly, but you must admit that they’ve grown on you as people — as family.
The greenhouse stands as a haven of life amid the chilly winter air. As you step inside, a wave of warmth embraces you, accompanied by the vibrant hues of thriving plants. The scent of earth and greenery fills the air, and you can’t help but marvel at the array of vegetables and fruits flourishing under the community’s care.
Maria, noticing your presence, looks up from her gardening tasks with a warm smile. “Well, look who’s here! It’s been a while. How are you feeling, sweetheart?” she greets you, wiping her hands on a cloth.
You return Maria’s smile, grateful for her welcoming demeanor. “I’m doing okay, thank you for asking,” you say as you take off your thick coat. “The baby’s been quite active lately. She even kicked so hard a few nights ago that she woke Joel up. He was so freaked out,” you chuckle, remembering Joel’s shocked face. “We honestly can’t wait to meet her.”
“That’s wonderful to hear,” Maria says, guiding you through the rows of flourishing plants. “Being surrounded by all this life does wonders for the soul, doesn’t it?”
You nod, taking in the sight of tomatoes, cucumbers, and various herbs thriving under the controlled environment. “It’s amazing what you’ve created here, Maria. I would love to help out as soon as I can do physical labor again. I’ve always loved looking after living things, especially animals or plants. I’m still getting used to the idea of a little human.”
Maria chuckles, her eyes filled with warmth. “It’s a big change, but it’s a beautiful one. It’s like…finding a piece of yourself you didn’t know was missing. And then suddenly, you’re whole, and it all makes sense. You realize that all you’ve done has led you to this perfect little being, and you’ll feel love you didn’t even know you were capable of feeling. It’s, uh, it’s amazing.”
She gives you a sympathetic smile as she notices your tears. “Sorry,” you mumble, wiping them away with the sleeve of your shirt. “I’ve been so emotional lately. It’s so embarrassing.”
“No need to apologize, sweetheart. Now, what brings you here today? Just checking out our little green corner?”
“Well, I’ve actually developed a little bit of a craving for figs, and I thought I’d see for myself if you have some here.”
Maria’s expression turns apologetic. “Ah, about that…we had some figs earlier in the season, but they’ve been picked already. I’m afraid there aren’t any left.”
You furrow your brow, unable to hide your disappointment. “Oh, that’s a shame. I was really hoping to get some. Maybe next season, then.”
Maria pats your shoulder sympathetically, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “I’m sorry, dear. I remember the irresistible cravings I had with my son. I wanted cheeseburgers and chocolate, nothing else. It got so bad at some point that I’d keep chocolate bars hidden in my desk at work.”
She laughs and you smile at her, thankful that she’s sharing such a personal part of her past with you. “But hey, how about I send Tommy out to check the storage? We might have some preserved ones left. Not as good as fresh, but it’s something.”
You appreciate her thoughtfulness, “That would be wonderful, Maria. Thank you. And, well, even without figs, being here and seeing all of this…it’s really comforting.”
“Anytime, sweetheart,” Maria smiles at you. “This greenhouse is a sanctuary for all of us. And you, my dear—my dears, are always welcome here.”
– – –
The soft hum of your voice fills the cozy kitchen as you chop vegetables with honed precision. The scent of fresh produce lingers in the air, intermingling with the delicious aroma of bread and the subtle hint of bacon from the fridge. Maria’s precious gifts have transformed your modest kitchen into a haven of warmth and abundance.
As you lose yourself in the meditative act of cooking, the front door creaks open, and the familiar, comforting presence of Joel announces his return from patrol. A smile tugs at your lips, anticipation and joy bubbling within you. Before you can turn around, strong arms wrap around you from behind, and Joel’s beard tickles your neck as he presses a gentle kiss on your skin.
“Hey there, beautiful,” he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “Miss me?”
“Always,” you reply, setting down the knife to lean back into his embrace. The scent of leather, gunpowder, and…Joel envelops you, a fragrance that feels like home. His deep chuckle reverberates through his chest, and you revel in the simple pleasure of being close to him.
“Is that so?” he murmurs against your neck between kisses, his hands caressing your belly.
“Mmm, always.”
“I should probably shower first,” he whispers in your ear, but you turn around in his arms and protest with a playful pout.
“No, I love how you smell after patrol,” you confess, earning another chuckle from him. “It reminds me of how you smelled when we met, you know. It, uh, it makes me feel at home.”
Joel tightens his grip around you, his laughter turning into a soft hum of contentment. He leans in for a tender kiss, squeezing your sides affectionately before flattening his hands over your spine. You inhale deeply, savoring his comforting scent, and relish the warmth of his touch.
When you open your eyes again, you find Joel looking at you expectantly, one eyebrow raised. With a sigh and a playful roll of your eyes, you relent, begrudgingly agreeing that he can go take a quick shower. He smiles at your response, promises to be back shortly, kisses you on the cheek, and heads to the bathroom.
In his absence, you continue preparing dinner, the rhythmic sounds of chopping and sizzling creating a soothing backdrop.
“You’re gonna love this stew,” you whisper to your baby, a gentle smile playing on your lips. “Your dad taught me how to make it. He would always cook it for your sister before the outbreak, you know. It’s a family recipe.”
You sigh, your hand gently rubbing your belly as you imagine a younger Joel standing at the stove, giving little Sarah the spoon to taste the stew.
How you wish the world hadn’t been so cruel to them.
Joel returns in fresh clothes, his damp hair combed back, the scent of soap lingering in the air. For a brief moment, he stands there, simply looking at you, his expression one of admiration and love for you and the life you two created. You glance over your shoulder, catching his eye.
“Hey there, handsome,” you say, and he steps closer, his arms enveloping you in a warm embrace. His fingers trace delicate patterns on your back, creating a comforting rhythm that matches the steady beat of your heart.
“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he says, his voice a low murmur filled with warmth. “I’ve seen a lot in my life, but nothin’ comes close to your beauty.” He leans in and presses a lingering kiss on your cheek.
“And I’m not just sayin’ that because you’re carryin’ my baby…even though I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t very much enjoyin’ this,” he murmurs into your ear, his warm hands wandering up your belly. “And these,” he goes on between nibbles on your earlobe as his hands find your breasts, “these are just an added bonus to the beauty you already possess.”
You moan softly and pull him into an urgent kiss as you can’t resist your craving for Joel any longer.
“We got twenty minutes,” you whisper against his lips as your fingers fumble with the button of his jeans.
“I can work with that,” he grins.
– – –
After a filling dinner, exhaustion slowly begins to settle in, and you find solace on the couch. Joel, ever attentive, sits beside you, offering a gentle foot massage to ease the day’s strain. Wrapped in the cozy blanket he knit for you, the tender gesture elicits a contented sigh from you.
He looks into your bleary eyes, searching for something more, something unspoken. “You sure there’s nothin’ else I can do for you, darlin’?” he asks, his voice soft but probing.
You give him a tired smile. “I’ve got everything I need right here, Joel. Thank you.”
“Hmm, that’s a shame,” he murmurs, mischief dancing in his eyes. “I got all these figs from Tommy, but if you don’t want them, I’ll give them ba–”
“Wait, you got figs?” Your eyes light up with pure excitement as you swiftly sit up on your elbows, genuine joy bubbling in your voice.
“Yeah,” Joel chuckles, giving your feet a gentle squeeze before getting up. “I’ll be back in a minute, sweetheart.”
He returns with a plate filled with halved figs, and your heart skips a beat at the sight.
“This,” he says, offering you one of the fruits, “is for you, my love.” Gently, he brings it to your lips, and the taste is nothing short of pure bliss. You can’t help but beam at him, overflowing with love and gratitude.
“These are amazing,” you say between bites, savoring each moment. “They’re even better than in my dreams.”
You urge Joel to join in, sharing the figs with him like you’ve shared everything in your lives since he found you all this time ago. As you enjoy the sweet fruit together, your baby begins to kick, and you burst into laughter.
“Looks like you’ve made our little one very happy,” you say, placing Joel’s hand on your belly so he can feel. Joel grins, his eyes sparkling with affection.
“Well, little one, I’m glad I could make you and your mommy happy. It’s what you do for the people you love, you know?” He leans down, his lips brushing against your belly. “You hear that, kiddo? I love you, and I love your mommy. And that’s why I’ll always be here for you two, doin’ my best to make you happy.”
– – –
Thank you for reading!! 🤍
-> keep you warm
-> never felt so loved
-> masterlist
#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x pregnant!reader#pregnancy#joel miller fluff#joel miller x you#joel miller#fluff#joel miller fanfic#tlou fic#the last of us hbo#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#joel tlou#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#joel miller tlou#joel miller pregnancy#joel the last of us
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