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wheresarizona · 2 days

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but I would die for you in secret

Part 2

summary: The relationship you have with Joel Miller is less complicated now that he’s going to tell Ellie that you’ve been secretly seeing each other for months. You thought their discussion would go well, but when you get home from work to a note on your front door from Joel that reads, ‘Come over, we need to talk,’ it has you immediately thinking the worst—up until he answers his door in nothing but a towel and drags you inside to fuck your brains out for the first time in his bed.

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, explicit smut, age gap (unspecified, reader is an adult), Possessive Joel Miller, Dominant Joel Miller, Joel Miller has a big dick, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating (he tells you to choke on it (in a good way)), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, breeding kink, rough sex, dirty talk (so much), spit mention, biting, spanking, whatever the kink is where you’re turned on by good dads, Joel in just a towel, pregnancy discussion, fluff, the last 3k words in Ellie’s pov (truly delightful), Good Parent Joel Miller, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, Joel giving Ellie shit, Ellie and Joel having the best discussions, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)

word count: 11.1k+

a/n: Yes, I did make my own gif because I was too lazy to try and hunt for it. I really, really wanted to write about what happened after the last chapter, and here we are. I think this will be the last one. Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul for betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

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The sun hadn’t risen when Joel Miller left your bed this morning.

That's how it usually was, him coming and going in the dark so no one sees him leave his house to come to yours across the street—the nights you spend together are bathed in secrecy, the two of you inhabiting your own little world, confined to the space of your home.

Why the sneaking around?

He didn’t want his daughter, Ellie, to know of his relationship with you. Over the many months you’ve been together, he’s let you in on much of what she had gone through before they got to Jackson. You understood that he’s all she has, and he’s worried that if he started openly dating, she’d think she isn’t as important to him as before or feel like Joel’s abandoning her. That’s the main reason he didn't want her to know, but with how often he brings up you being so much younger than him, and all the times he’s said you should be with someone your own age, you felt that he’s also ashamed of how old you are.

At least, that’s what you thought until the night before when he revealed his feelings for you and told you he wasn’t ashamed of you or the large gap in your ages.

When this all began, Joel was clear that all he could give you was his body—he was emotionally unavailable because he was too focused on taking care of Ellie.

Amazing sex with no strings attached? You were okay with that.

Except it wasn’t something casual, and there were strings attached.

You don’t just occasionally hook up with Joel; no, he’s at your place most nights and some days without his daughter knowing. You also can’t go out with anyone else, not that you want to—he doesn’t share or like when other men are interested in you. You aren’t any better, hating when women flirt with him, especially his next-door neighbor Sandra, who refuses to acknowledge he doesn’t want her.

Why does she, specifically, annoy you so much?

Not only does she shamelessly flirt with Joel any chance she gets, but she also touches him, her hand always ending up on his arm that he shrugs off, making him growl at her not to touch him. Does she listen? No, she still does it every time she runs into him, and it pisses you off that she doesn’t respect his boundaries. Plus, there was an incident a couple of months after he moved to Jackson where she got him over to her house under the false pretense of needing something fixed and then basically jumped him—she kissed him without his permission and came onto him, which he was not into and had him leaving immediately. He can’t stand her, and he’s been very firm with her that he’s not interested. If what she does to Joel isn’t bad enough, she creeps the fuck out of Ellie, and that pisses you off even more. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve saved the kid from talking to her; the look on Ellie’s face that screams she wants to be anywhere other than with Sandra makes your hackles rise, and a need comes over you to get the girl out of there as quickly as possible.

Has anything ever happened between Joel and Sandra to make her delusional enough to think if she keeps harassing him and his daughter, he’ll eventually want to be with her?

From what you understand, Tommy and Maria tried to set them up when he first arrived, but he declined; it truly was a case of right place, wrong time. He was polite when he rejected her and explained that his daughter needed him and that he had zero interest in starting a relationship with someone. Back then, he was completely occupied with taking care of Ellie, and dating was out of the question; it didn’t even cross his mind or was something he wanted. He was content with his fresh start in Jackson, alone with his kid to help her heal.

Why did Joel accept your advances the first time you met?

Right place, right time.

Once you moved to town, the father and daughter were settled to the point that Ellie was doing great in adjusting to life in Wyoming, and Joel felt he could finally do something for himself; you were tempting enough that he wanted to be selfish. He liked that you didn’t reek of desperation or made him feel pressured, neither of you doing anything that made the other uncomfortable. Obviously, there was a mutual attraction between you two, and the flirting went both ways; his head was already leaning toward yours when you went in for the first kiss, which he happily reciprocated.

What it came down to was he trusted you, and you were willing to do things on his terms.

And, of course, as it usually happens, feelings did develop—as his kid got better and more comfortable with living in Jackson, Joel opened up to you little by little, offering a tiny bit more of himself with each passing day and your relationship became confusing; it wasn’t only sex anymore; hasn’t been just that for a while, and it took you both over eight months to admit you’re in love, and for Joel to decide it’s time to tell Ellie, so he could actually be with you out in the open.

So, he left your bed before the sun had risen in order to be home before she woke up—that way, she wouldn’t be confused by his absence. He also planned on talking to her about what was going on between you two.

There’s this ritual he does before he leaves each morning that you’ve chalked up to him being from a different time and big on manners; your two previous sexual partners were closer to your age and nowhere near as courteous as him.

The slightest sounds will wake you, a side effect of surviving, and the moment the mattress springs squeak as he gets up, hours before you need to, your consciousness is coming back to you to assess if there’s any danger. Your ears perk at the rustle of him dressing in the dark, and you’ve learned not to spook when the blankets are pulled up to cover your bare body that gets tucked in. The kiss pressed to your hair always makes you smile at the sweetness, and you expect the whispered goodbye he says before he goes.

This morning, you didn’t expect the added ‘Love you’ at the end, which had your eyes opening and hand shooting out from under the covers to grab his, tugging him toward you. He knew what you wanted, chuckling as he leaned down to kiss your lips. You told him you loved him, too, when he straightened and started to leave, and he stopped at the doorway to get one last look at you under the dim light filtering through the gaps in your curtains from the street lamp outside, then headed home.

It’s safe to say your morning started off pretty great, and even though you didn’t see Joel after he left, the rest of your day wasn’t half bad either; it took a little turn when you got back to your house after working your job teaching at the school to a note from him on your door that read:

Come over

We need to talk

A romantic partner saying you needed to talk was never good, and worry knotted up in your belly like a ball, thinking things with Ellie didn’t go well when he told her about your relationship, and now he’s going to break up with you.

The first time you stopped by his place, you’d made the mistake of knocking; he was home alone and hadn’t known you were at the door until you rang the doorbell. It was adorable how he’d been a little embarrassed he didn’t hear you and pointed at his right ear to explain he had hearing loss. From then on, you always made sure to ring the doorbell, and you did so again, standing on his porch in the freezing cold with your winter coat on and worrying your lip between your teeth.

There’s the faint sound of him yelling from inside, “One minute!” thinking he’s upstairs, which is confirmed when you hear his heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. The deadbolt clicks as it’s unlocked, and the door is cracked open; Joel’s face appears, the rest of his body hidden.

He looks relieved to see you, and that’s a good sign. “Thank Christ, it’s you,” he says, opening the door some more to take your hand pulling you inside. The front door gets slammed shut, and your back is suddenly pressed against it, a surprised sound leaving your throat when his mouth crashes into yours, kissing you hard.

This is an even better sign that everything is okay.

He’s never kissed you in his house before.

One of his big palms cradles your face, the other locking the deadbolt beside you before it glides up your jacket-covered front to squeeze your breast. Your lips part to allow his tongue to delve inside and tangle with your own, looping your arms around his neck automatically. This kiss has your brain fritzing out, unable to think about anything except how he’s claimed you with his lips and tongue so fiercely and possessively while his large body cages you in. It’s embarrassing how long it takes a coherent thought to come through, and when it does, you’re lightly pushing at his chest, the surprise of bare skin under your hand causing you to break your mouth away to look at his body immediately.

A disappointed noise comes from him, and your eyes go wide at what you see.

“You’re naked,” you whisper.

His hand lightly holds your throat as he starts kissing along your jaw. “I’m not naked—I’m wearin’ a towel.”

That’s true. The faded blue towel is wrapped tightly around his waist, stopping just before it reaches his knees. His upper body is entirely bare, with pink and silvery scars etched all over his skin. No matter how many times you see him naked, you’re always so surprised by his broadness—it’s not a trick of his clothing or lighting that makes him appear big; he is that big.

“Still pretty naked.” You remember the thought you had. “Is Ellie home?”

“No,” he says into your skin. “She’s with Cat—” Her best friend. “—and they’re meetin’ us for dinner later.” His mouth is at your ear, feeling his hot breath, and shivering when he rasps into it, “Now, stop worryin’ about her, and let me take you up to my room so I can finally fuck you in my bed—I’ve been dyin’ to break it in with you.”

The proposition makes your cunt clench, and you’re interested in seeing his bedroom—he’s never invited you upstairs.

“Is this why you really wanted me to come over, to christen your bed?”

He pulls back to meet your gaze. “Didn’t want to scandalize the neighbors by puttin’ it in writin’, but yes.” His eyes darken as he slowly unzips your coat. “You comin’ up with me?” His voice deepens, nudging his nose against yours. “Since you’re my guest, we’ll do whatever you want.”

Joel always considers what you want, but he also seems instinctively aware of what you need—that’s the great thing about being with someone so much older and experienced; he knows how to play your body and make you feel so good that you’re happy to go along for the incredible ride.

With him saying you’ll do whatever you want, he’s letting you call the shots.

Your eyebrow raises. “Anything?”

“Within reason.” He kisses your chin, your skin tingling under his lips.

“Is there anything we did last night that’s not within reason…?”

The previous night, you weren’t expecting to see Joel because he’d been taking care of a sick Ellie for the prior few days. When he arrived at your place unannounced, he found you trying to make yourself come on your fingers and ordered you to finish as he jerked off, watching you. Then he fucked your brains out until your limbs were jelly and surprised you by asking if he could come inside you—something he avoided in the past and had only accidentally happened a handful of times.

His head moves to look you in the eyes.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s all within reason.”

That sentence excites you. “Let’s go,” you say quickly. He chuckles and helps you remove your jacket, hanging it on the nearby coat rack, which only has a few other items.

He grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs, the third step from the top creaking loudly under each of your weights.

You’re not entirely sure what you’re expecting his bedroom to be like, but when you walk into it, you take a moment glancing around at everything; there’s his queen-sized bed that’s neatly made, he’s got a record player over in the corner with a stack of vinyl records next to it, a couple of landscape paintings of pastures decorate his walls, there’s a walk-in closet not even close to full of clothes, his own private bathroom, and on top of his dresser is a few framed photos—one of Ellie playing guitar, beside that, Joel and her standing next to each other laughing. The third has you walking over to pick it up.

“Joel?”

He’s shut the door, and his bare feet pad across the floor, moving toward you.

“Yeah?”

“If you didn’t want Ellie to know about us, why do you have a picture of me and her in your room?”

It was taken at the town party celebrating the harvest and shows Ellie sitting beside you at a table, leaning into you with her head against your shoulder as you both smile at the camera.

“She doesn’t come in here.”

He’s next to you, and you look over at him.

“But what if she had?”

“Wouldn’t have mattered.” He shrugs and takes the photo from you, setting it back down in its spot.

You turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest, and his eyes lock onto your bosom.

“What do you mean it wouldn’t have mattered?”

It takes him too long to answer, and you realize he’s distracted, so you wave your hand in front of his face. “Focus, Joel.” His gaze goes to yours.

“What?”

“What do you mean it wouldn’t have mattered if Ellie saw the picture?”

“I mean, it wouldn’t have mattered; it wouldn’t have revealed anythin’ she didn’t already know.”

“How long?”

His face pinches in confusion. “Huh?”

“How long has she known about us?”

His hands sit on his hips, and his weight goes to one side, a crease appearing between his eyebrows.

“I don’t want you gettin’ mad at me when I tell you ‘cause I had no idea she was aware; if I’d known, it would’ve been made clear long ago to everyone you’re mine. Understood?”

It’s said with such conviction it leaves zero doubt that it’s the truth, and it feels like your skin is vibrating at the fact he’s really going to make sure all of Jackson knows that you’re together now.

You smile. “God, that’s hot—yes, I understand.”

“Good—she clocked us pretty much from the beginnin’.”

“Of course she did,” you reply. “I had a feeling she’s known for a while, but since the beginning? I am both impressed and very annoyed. Why didn’t she tell you she knew?”

He grimaces. “She thought it was a subject we avoided...” He scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. “I guess I’m cagey when Tess comes up, mostly ‘cause I don’t even know what that relationship was, and since I never said anythin’ about you, she figured we don’t talk about our romantic partners.”

Your eyes round. “Our? Is Ellie dating someone?”

His hand lowers, and he smiles, nodding. “She said I could tell you—Ellie’s way better at the secret girlfriend stuff than I am.”

“Cat?”

His eyebrows dip down. “How’d you know?”

“Ellie looks at Cat the same way you look at me.”

A long sigh leaves him. “So, it’s true.” He sounds defeated, his shoulders slumping.

“What’s true?”

“When she was pointin’ out how obvious we’ve been, she gave me shit for starin’ at you with, she called ‘em ‘googly eyes,’ whatever the fuck that means.”

You snort and step into his space, wrapping your arms around his neck, Joel’s hands holding your hips.

“It’s this way you look at me, and I couldn’t quite figure out what it was until you told me you loved me last night, and I realized it’s love; devotion—your eyes show the truth of what you’re feeling, and good news, babe.”

“What’s that?”

“You can give her shit for having googly eyes like her father.”

That seems to cheer him up, and honestly, it’s cute.

“She’s gonna hate knowin’ that—I can’t wait to tell her.”

You giggle. “So, Ellie’s really okay with us?”

“She is.” He nods.

“Good—this might sound weird.” You can’t look at him as you say this and focus on a patch of freckles on his shoulder, heat creeping up your neck. “But, um, you being a great dad and loving your kids so much—” He’s told you about Sarah. “—really does it for me. There’s something about it that’s incredibly attractive.”

“Yeah?” He ducks his head to press his lips over your pulse point, peppering kisses up your neck; his hand slides down between your legs where your warmth is felt through your jeans, rubbing over your sex. It makes you gulp, excitement sparking in your tummy.

“Yes.”

His mouth reaches your ear, tugging the lobe lightly between his teeth. His warm breath fans against your skin when he hovers his lips to whisper, “I think I know why.“

Your heartbeat thuds in your chest and pulses in your core to the same beat, feeling your need for him drip into your panties.

“W-why?”

He speaks in a huskier tone, “You know that havin’ my babies means they’d get a good father, and you have nothin’ to worry about when I fill your perfect little pussy with my come.”

Pleasure cuts through you sharp as a knife, and you moan.

“Yeah, I know you like it—is that what you want tonight, sweetheart? Want me to stuff you full?”

What he’s saying is making your skin so hot that your clothes are stifling, and you want him more than anything; you need him to ease the ache in your center.

“God, yes.”

“Then I’ll give it to you.”

You’re wondering what’s changed that suddenly has him unbothered about the possibility of getting you pregnant when he actively tried to prevent it previously—something you’ll have to inquire about later because it seems Joel’s had enough talking as his lips capture yours in a searing kiss, and he pulls your body flush against his.

It’s consuming and exhilarating.

No one has ever made you feel the way he does—the all-encompassing fiery passion that has arousal burning like an inferno in your belly, needing him so badly you think you might die if you don’t feel him inside you.

Wouldn’t that be a way to go? Dying of desperation from not getting Joel Miller’s dick—sounds kind of nice compared to the alternatives in today’s world.

You’ve also never been with someone his age.

There was this girl a little older than you that you met on your travels—you don’t find very many friendly people out in the wilds, and she joined you for maybe a week before she headed west toward Seattle. She told you one evening, as you sat by a fire under the stars together, that hands down, the best sex she ever had was with an older guy who was in his early thirties when the outbreak happened. She went on about how generous he was in actually making her come and that he knew exactly what to do; the entire experience was apparently life-changing. She swore she’d never get with anyone younger again, and you were intrigued.

When you asked her if it was weird fucking a guy old enough to be her father, she gave you a funny look, and you’ll never forget what she said:

“Ain’t nothing weird about two consenting adults having a good time.”

She had a point.

When Joel showed up at your door looking so incredibly handsome soon after you moved to Jackson, the conversation with that girl came to mind, and you decided to see if she was right, and dear god, this man in his late fifties has ruined you for anyone else—he was the first person to go down on you, he was the first person other than yourself to get you off, he was the first person to come inside you; the last one was an accident and it shocked you how much the risk turned you on.

You can’t imagine being with anyone else after him.

The kissing heats up, practically all tongues at this point, Joel’s straining cock beneath the towel pressing against you, and it’s always incredibly sexy the way he knows just what you need without you having to say a word—in less than a minute, he's stripped you of all your clothes, and has you on your back in the middle of his mattress, Joel on his knees between your spread legs, and leaning down, with your pebbled nipple sucked between his lips.

He has both of your breasts in his hands while he laves at one and then the other, the nibble of his teeth on the sensitive buds causing your pussy to weep for him, your fingers clutched in his damp, grey hair.

"Oh my god, Joel," you moan.

He loves worshipping your tits, and if you let him, he’ll play with them for hours; the problem is today, you’re on a time crunch since you have dinner plans, and you want a chance to make him feel good, too.

Your hands tug on his messy waves to get his attention, saying, "Let me suck your dick."

His head lifts, and you're met with dark eyes, his lips shiny with spit. The cool air hitting your wet skin causes goosebumps to rise.

"You want my dick in your mouth?" he asks.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay.” He grunts as he pushes himself up to kneel. He’s still wearing the towel, which is tenting in the front.

You eagerly sit up and get on your knees, shuffling toward him, and when you’re close enough, he can’t seem to help himself, his palms holding your face as he passionately kisses you. Your hands snake between your bodies to unwrap the towel around his waist, tossing it to the side without a care, and you wrap your fingers around his length that’s hard as steel and velvety smooth, feeling hot to the touch.

He nips at your bottom lip when he ends the kiss, and without another word, you’re moving back enough to get on all fours, holding your weight on one arm while your other hand grips around the base of him, and then he’s in your mouth—his girth has you opening as wide as you can, your lips stretching to their limit. He’s heavy on your tongue, taking more and more of him as you bob your head.

“That’s it, baby,” he groans. “Fuckin’ love that mouth of yours.”

Saliva is dribbling down his shaft, lubricating every stroke of your palm over what can’t fit in your mouth, his large hand guiding your head up and down his dick.

“Spit on it,” he commands. You hover your lips over him, gathering saliva on your tongue, and looking up at him through your lashes as you let it drip onto the tip of him—his pupils are blown so wide, there’s hardly any brown remaining, a gorgeous pink flush crawling up his chest and neck to paint his stubbled cheeks.

He’s watching you, his chest rumbling when you take him back into your mouth and fondle his sack in your palm.

When you first met, you were pretty inexperienced when it came to sex—you’d only slept with two men, and it hadn’t been very pleasurable on either occasion. Then Joel came along and showed you how good it could be and let you experiment to figure out what you did and didn’t enjoy. He also walked you through what he liked, which is why you know how he’s going to respond as you suck him off and gently tug on his balls. “Fuucckk,” he says in a drawn-out moan, and it has electricity dancing down your spine that you’re making him feel so good.

You go back to jerking him, your hand moving easily, twisting on the upstroke along his spit-slick cock, while bobbing your head, feeling him slide along the broad flat of your tongue to hit the back of your throat—you’re making appreciative noises that vibrate against his skin, loving him in your mouth, and how vocal he is in his enjoyment, Joel groaning, his breaths getting heavier, and slowly thrusting his hips.

You come off of him, licking a stripe from root to tip, tracing a bulging vein with your tongue, and circling the sensitive edges of the head. His cock throbs in your hand as you hold it out of the way to go lower and suck one of his balls into your mouth, massaging it with your tongue before giving the second the same treatment.

His voice is a deep baritone, the words thick with desire. “You’re so fuckin’ good to me.”

Licking back up, you swirl around the tip and sink down again, hollowing your cheeks.

His hand easily covers yours low on his shaft to keep it and himself still, his other palm going to the back of your head. “Choke on it, baby—take it down that pretty throat.”

This time when he fills your mouth and hits the back of your throat, you relax, swallowing around him, taking as much of him into the tight space as you can, and there’s enough of him that won’t fit for your fingers to wrap around—his other hand clutches your hair as he keeps your head from moving, your eyes watering, drool spilling from the corners of your lips, while his hard cock fills your throat. You’re doing the best you can to breathe through your nose.

He’s panting. “That’s fuckin’ it—so fuckin’ beautiful with my dick down your throat.” His fingers go around your neck to feel it bulge. “You love havin' my cock fillin' you, don’t you? Your pussy, your throat, you're hungry for it and can't get enough 'cause no one can make you feel as good as I do, isn’t that right?” You moan in agreement, his shaft pulsing on the flat of your tongue. “God, you make the prettiest noises for me.”

You swallow around him, and his punched-out groan has your cunt clenching hard on nothing, a layer of slick coating your inner thighs.

“Stop,” he orders, pulling you off of him and causing you to sputter. “I’m not comin’ in your mouth.”

The statement has a sharp spike of arousal erupting low in your stomach because you know this means he’s going to finish inside you, and it has you wanting him with every fiber of your being.

He gets you up on your knees, holding your chin as he smashes his lips to yours, his tongue slipping inside where he sucks on your own. Your heart is hammering in your chest, moaning as the fingers of his free hand pinch and roll your stiff nipple, and you’re trying to convince your lungs that you’ll be okay without oxygen for another minute when his mouth suddenly leaves yours. Your chin is still cradled in his palm, Joel’s breaths coming out hard as he shoves his face against the side of yours and lightly bites the apple of your cheek before his lips are at your ear.

The sides of your faces are touching, his stubble prickling against your skin. “Now what?” he asks. Anticipation has you practically vibrating. “You got to suck my dick, what do you want now? You’re in charge—my fingers? Want me to eat your pussy? Or my cock without me loosenin’ you up so you’ll feel it tomorrow?” He smacks your ass with his other palm, and you gasp. “Tell me.”

Joel is very well-endowed, especially in terms of girth, and he’s aware of this fact; unless you tell him not to, he always gets you off before he fucks you, so it relaxes your muscles and makes it easier to take him. Right now, you need him inside you too much to have the patience for any more foreplay, so be it if you’re a little uncomfortable tomorrow.

You swallow before you answer. “Dick, please.”

“How do you want it?”

“Your choice.”

“You got it, baby.”

He grabs a handful of your asscheek, then gives it a spank and kisses your cheek, letting go of your chin to slide his fingers through the slick lips of your sex, his face coming into your line of sight.

It’s clear in his darkened eyes how much he wants you.

“You get so fuckin’ wet for me,” he says and presses two thick fingers inside you, your mouth falling open when he starts pumping. The tips press into something magical you can never reach, no matter how many times you try. “This needy pussy can’t get enough of my dick,” he continues. “You want it? Want me to stretch you open? Make you feel it tomorrow and come so deep in your sweet little cunt I’m drippin’ from you for days?”

He has you feeling so hot you think you might combust.

“Yes.”

A quick kiss is pressed to your lips. “Hands and knees,” he orders, slipping his fingers out of you.

His way of helping you get into position is manhandling you until your hands and knees sink into the mattress with him behind you—he fucked you hard face down, ass up the night before, and you’re wondering if he’s going to give you an encore.

His fingers dig into your asscheeks as he spreads them and spits on your pussy, feeling the hot saliva start to drip, and hearing him repeat the action on his digits, that he uses to wet his cock. Joel slides himself through your folds and presses to your entrance, your hips pushing back enough to engulf the tip of him—a palm lands on your ass with a loud smack, the sting causing your head to fall forward between your shoulders with a moan, his other hand firm on your waist to stop your movements.

“Don’t be greedy,” he grumbles, slapping your ass again. “I gotta go slow so I don’t hurt you.”

You whine because you want him inside you already.

“You’re real fuckin’ needy today,” he says and slowly begins pushing in. There’s a slight burn as your tight walls stretch around him to accommodate his size, the ache in your core dissipating with every inch he feeds into your pussy. “Jesus Christ,” his tone is strained. “You’re so much tighter when I don’t make you come first—you’re chokin’ me.” Your fingers are clawing at the bedspread, your heart’s pounding, and sweat is starting to bead on your skin. There’s one word repeating over and over in your head: Big.

He takes his time; the seconds that tick by feel like hours, and once he’s fully sheathed inside you, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in—the familiar fullness satisfies the overwhelming need you had and has something purring in the back of your mind that this is right; it’s perfect how he fills you. He was right; there’s no one else on the entire planet who could satisfy you like he does.

His large palm slides halfway up your spine. “You’re doin’ great for me, baby,” he rasps. “Takin’ me so well. Now, I’m gonna make you feel good.”

And the fact you know he is has your cunt throbbing incessantly around him.

His hands hold your waist, and he does an experimental thrust, your answering moan encouraging him to start moving—he’s slow at first, rocking his hips and letting you feel every ridge and vein on his thick cock as it moves in and out of you.

He’s pressing into heavenly spots you didn’t know existed before him, loving how deep in your depths he reaches. The waves of arousal he’s coaxing from you is soaking his dick and easing his movements.

“God, I love bein’ inside you,” he says and slaps your ass; you clamp down on him, and he groans. “You feel so damn good—fit me like a fuckin’ glove.”

You fuck yourself back on him as you whine, “It’s yours!”

He grits through his teeth, “Yes. It. Is.” Punctuating each word with a hard thrust that knocks the wind from your lungs. “It’s. Mine. You’re mine.”

His rhythm speeds up, a steady slap of his hips against yours that echoes in the room, Joel grunting with each stroke and your moans coming unbidden. Your ass is jiggling from the onslaught, your head is dizzy with pleasure, and heat is growing at the base of your spine, threatening to explode.

This is how you like it, getting fucked senseless.

You squeak in surprise when gun-calloused fingers grip your upper arms at the bend of your elbows and pull you up, making you arch your back, Joel tugging you back each time he thrusts forward, pounding into you hard enough your eyes roll back in your head, and your mouth opens in a silent cry—his rough sounds are slipping through his bared teeth and obscene squelching is coming from where he’s fucking into you at an unforgiving pace.

You’re quivering around him, your entire body shaking, quaking, as he pummels a spot that’s making stars dance behind your eyelids, the muscles in your belly tightening, winding, building you up higher and higher. Your skin is hot and buzzing like every nerve in your body is lit up, a thin layer of sweat coating the entirety of it.

His breathing is ragged, and he grits out the question, “Are you gonna come for me?” He doesn’t slow down. “I can feel you squeezin’ me—I know you’re close.”

His hands have an iron grip on you. Noise finally leaves your lips in stuttered moans, and you’re losing your mind at how fucking good it feels—you’re not going to last much longer.

“Once you go,” he says, “you’re takin’ me with you, and I’m fillin’ you up.”

The reminder has white-hot pleasure scorching in your abdomen, and you’re coming undone, shouting his name as your climax hits and euphoria takes over every molecule in your body.

A choked sound comes from behind you, and you get pulled back flush to him, Joel’s arm locking over your chest with his hand squeezing one of your tits while the other wraps around your throat, his lips pressing to your ear as he raggedly groans “There we fuckin’ go.” His teeth sink into your earlobe as his hips stutter, and he buries himself one last time as far as he can in your depths, whining as he comes—his cock pulses and twitches hard as he releases deep inside you, spurts and spurts of his come filling your inner walls.

There’s a chance you’ve left Earth with how you feel like you’re floating, your brain completely empty of thoughts—you’re not sure you could think if you even tried, let alone move.

You register being laid down on your side and the warm body curling around your back; an arm is over your middle, and your breast is being held in a large palm, feeling so relaxed you think you might fall asleep.

A minute passes.

Five.

Ten.

There’s a loud snore behind you.

“Joel?” It’s embarrassing how it comes out as a croak.

No response—of course, there’s no response, his left ear is pressed to the mattress, and he can barely hear out of the right. You rub your hand along his arm and lightly tap it.

He goes eerily quiet, and you know he’s awoken, but he’s taking a second to assess where he is. Joel sits up a little. “Somethin’ wrong, honey?”

Your torso slightly twists toward him, looking over your shoulder. His eyes are filled with concern when they meet yours.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you reassure him and pat his forearm. “You fell asleep, and we can’t be late meeting Ellie. Otherwise, she’ll come looking for us, and we don’t need to scar the poor girl with her finding out her dad has a very active sex life.”

He snorts, his lips turning up. “She’s not dumb—she knows why I’m at your place every night.”

“She assumes the reason you come over—it’s one thing to assume and another to know for sure, and the second one, when it happens, will probably make her puke and then look at you with disgust for a while.”

He frowns, and you can tell he’s thinking hard. “I never brought women around Sarah…” he says. “I mean, when she was older, she knew, on the incredibly rare occasions I did, that I was goin’ on dates, but that was all. I never had long-term girlfriends.”

That’s something you’re aware of. He’s told you about some of his previous relationships, including Tess. When he was younger, before the world ended, he only had a few girlfriends that didn’t last long and a lot of one-night stands; Sarah’s mom was a fling in his early twenties who disappeared as soon as their daughter was born—she didn’t want to be a mother at such a young age, and only had the baby because she couldn’t stand the guilt of the alternative.

“Oh, so Ellie knowing me and being aware we’re together is new territory for you. How does that make you feel?”

“Real fuckin’ lucky I found someone she likes and who understands that she’s my top priority—the other women I dated couldn’t stand playin’ second fiddle to Sarah even though I was always upfront that she came first before anyone else, the same thing I told you from the get-go about Ellie.”

“And that makes complete sense to me. I know I’m important to you, but it’s different; she’s your child, who you’re responsible for, so she takes precedence. After all the shit she’s been through, it’s great she found a father who loves and cares about her so much.”

He smiles. “And that’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you—you get it and were more than willin’ to be with me in secret to protect her.”

You smirk. “True, it didn’t hurt that the sex is fucking spectacular, too.”

He chuckles, and you find yourself on your back with him half on top of you, happily kissing you.

Your words are muffled against his lips. “I need to ask you something.”

There’s one last kiss, then his pretty face hovers over yours.

“What do you wanna ask that’s more important than me kissin’ you?”

“Something that I need to know after everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours.”

His mouth downturns, and his eyebrows furrow. “Is somethin’ wrong…?”

“No, no, everything’s great,” you tell him and slide your fingers through the curls above his ears. “Has your feelings on children changed? Like, in terms of having more…?”

From the beginning, he was clear that he didn’t want any more kids, and it stressed him out whenever he accidentally finished inside you; you’d think that would put him off sleeping with you again, but he couldn’t stay away, and told you, when asked what would happen if you got pregnant, that you’d figure it out and you didn’t need to worry about him abandoning you—the last part always made you wonder how he’d be involved in your baby’s life with Ellie unaware you were together, and the only thing you could imagine was out in public, Joel taking on the role of your close friend your child calls their uncle, which is pretty depressing to think about.

He’s got an arm beside your head, holding himself up, and his other palm strokes along your cheek, his eyes softening.

“A lot has changed since I met you—you’ve turned my world on its head, sweetheart.” He smiles. “I know I swore I’d never bring another life into this world after losin’ Sarah, but Ellie came along, and I love gettin’ to be a dad again.” The fond look on his face is proof of that. “I really do. She’s a pain in my ass, but I love her, and now that we’re done hidin’ and can finally have a life with everyone knowin’ we’re together, there won’t be any doubt that it’s my baby if you got pregnant.”

Something about that excites you that he wants it to be clear he’s the father of your kid—for a second, you imagine what a child with him would look like, and it makes your heart squeeze at the thought of seeing tiny versions of his eyes and cheeks; would they inherit his elusive dimple?

“I know I’m too fuckin’ old to be takin’ care of a newborn,” he continues, “but I like the idea of havin’ one with you, and I think you’d love it. You’re so good with Ellie and all those little kids you teach. I can tell you want one of your own, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

He smiles.

“Yeah, you do. You’d be a great mom. When I realized I was gonna talk to Ellie the other day and tell her about us, I thought this was somethin’ I could give you; it’s some kind of future, maybe not what you deserve, but it’s what I can offer. And it’s reassurin’ you’re gonna live a helluva lot longer than I will, so I know that if anythin’ happens to me, my children will still have their mother, along with Ellie, who I think would love bein’ a sister. So, to answer your question, yes, my feelings on havin’ more children has changed, but only with you—you’re the only woman I’d want to have a baby with.”

This revelation has you beyond excited—you’d love to have a child with him.

“It’s crazy that yesterday I didn’t know how to define what our relationship was—I knew I loved you, I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same, and today, we’re officially a couple and talking about having babies. At this rate, I’ll be moving in with you tomorrow.”

“Do you wanna?” he asks, looking completely serious.

Your eyes widen as you stare. “What? I was joking, Joel.”

“And I’m not jokin’, especially about havin’ you here all the time. I don’t want us livin’ separately if we do the baby thing, and you know I’m almost done remodelin’ the garage out back into an apartment for Ellie.”

Joel was pretty upset the night he came over after Ellie asked about having her own living space. It happened two or three months into seeing each other, and he’d been distraught that she was at an age where she wanted more independence and didn’t want to spend as much time with him now that she had friends—something else he never got to experience with Sarah and it really twisted the knife in his gut. There was no way the town council would give a teenager a house, so Joel agreed to convert the garage into an apartment for her.

“Are we moving too fast?” you ask.

When you say out loud everything that’s happened in the last day and your plans for the near future, it sounds like you’re moving too fast, but it doesn’t feel that way.

His eyebrow rose. “Baby, we could die tomorrow. Life these days is too fuckin’ uncertain to be worryin’ about movin’ too fast, and we should do what makes us happy.”

He’s right, and it isn’t a bad idea…

“I’ll only agree to move in if Ellie says it’s okay.”

Your response has Joel chuckling as he kisses you.

“Wait, I have another question,” your words are said into his lips.

His mouth breaks away from yours as he sighs and presses his forehead to yours.

“I love you more than anythin’, but can I please kiss you without interruptions?”

“If you answer this question, we can make out—with tongue.”

His head lifts, and he looks confused. “It’s not makin’ out if there isn’t tongue.”

“Do you wanna make out or not?”

His expression turns grumpy. “Yes, so ask your damn question.”

“What would you have done if you opened the door in just your towel, and it was Sandra instead of me?”

“I would’ve shut the fuckin’ door—now kiss me. I was promised tongue.”

Snow.

So much fucking snow.

Ellie hated winter in Boston, but Jackson? It’s a new kind of hell with how much of the freezing, white bullshit falls from the sky to blanket everything. On the days when she’s assigned the job of shoveling walkways down the main streets of the town, she wishes the bite on her arm had done her in—a dark thought, yes, but that’s how much she despises doing it.

The only positive thing about getting sick was not having to work; the biggest negative was Joel and how he was worrying so much he wouldn’t leave her the fuck alone. Yeah, it’s sweet, or whatever, that he cares so much, but this guy literally watched her sleep—he sat at the window seat in her room every night to keep an eye on her, and if she woke up, which happened a lot from the coughing, he was there at the side of her bed asking if she needed anything, and touching her forehead to check her temperature.

Thank god, his secret girlfriend came by when she did because Ellie was so close to stabbing him if he asked her how she was feeling one more time; her friends kept her sane the next day when they checked in on her, and luckily, by then she was pretty much over her sickness, and Joel had finally started to chill the fuck out.

That night, she thankfully got to sleep alone in her room, and it wasn’t surprising when she heard the third step down the staircase loudly creak—she’d tried everything, and there was no way to step on it without it making noise—a sign Joel was going across the street.

Oh, Ellie figured out something was going on between Joel and their across-the-street neighbor not too long after she moved in.

What tipped Ellie off was one day she was walking home after work and had almost arrived at their house when she saw the two of them chatting at her and Joel’s front door. Nothing fishy about that, right? Wrong. Joel was smiling as he spoke to the woman, and it wasn’t one of his fake, polite smiles he does when he’s trying to make himself look less scary and somewhat approachable; no, this was a genuine smile, with some teeth showing, and a rare sighting of the dimple in his cheek—it makes her gag to even think this, but she’d call the smile, charming.

Yuck.

Who wants to think about the guy that’s basically their dad trying to charm someone?

Disgusting.

If the smile wasn’t suspicious enough, the moment he spotted Ellie, it suddenly disappeared—why wouldn't Joel want her seeing him being so friendly with the new neighbor? Probably because he was hiding something; she’ll admit it also could’ve been so she didn’t tease him about having a crush, but the thing is, she wouldn’t have, which is really fucking surprising with how much shit she gives him.

See, she’s not stupid; she knows Joel’s made taking care of her his life’s purpose since they left Boston and that he loves her as if she were his own kid; not to get mushy, but she loves the grumpy fucker, too, and she wants him to be happy, like she is—he’s the reason her life is so good now, and it was time that he did something that’d make him happy. So, Ellie isn’t going to be a dick about him putting himself out there because she doesn’t want to discourage him.

Once Ellie was onto them, it was so freaking obvious that they were a thing—anytime they ran into the neighbor, Joel actually talked to her, instead of his usual one to two-word responses, he gave everyone else who wasn’t Ellie or Tommy. Joel always watched her if she was nearby and went over to her house the moment she asked him to fix something or help her—Ellie’s pretty sure a lot of the tasks were bullshit, and it was their excuse to see each other. Then there’s the damning evidence of Joel sneaking out almost every night; there was a night she got to a window in time to see him sticking to the shadows as he made his way across the street, and it confirmed everything.

He was pretty hush about his relationship with Tess—they’ve discussed her in general, and Ellie knows they had some kind of relationship; she’s just not sure if they were, you know, dating or in love. So, with Joel keeping quiet about what he’s got going on with their young neighbor, Ellie assumed he was just a private guy when it came to that stuff, and it was something they didn’t talk about, figuring if things got serious enough, he’d bring it up.

And hey, she’s hinted that she knows by inviting his secret girlfriend to eat and do stuff with them; Ellie’s even attempted to get the older woman to admit they’re together, but she wouldn’t break, no matter how hard the teen tried.

Then Ellie accidentally overslept at her girlfriend’s this morning and didn’t make it home before Joel, and now they’re both aware of the other’s love life. She won’t lie; it made her unbelievably happy that he didn’t give a single fuck she was dating a girl—he had more of a reaction to her getting a tattoo than her telling him she had a girlfriend, and she’s glad he didn’t make a big deal about it, not that she thought for a minute he wouldn’t be cool with her being with a lady since he was chill when she told him she didn’t like boys not too long after they got to Jackson; plus, the guy was really good friends with Bill and Frank, after all—he’s told her he’s glad she never got a chance to meet Bill because apparently, they would’ve caused a lot of trouble together and possibly taken over the world, which sounded pretty fucking great to her.

The snow crunches under her boots as she walks down the road on their way to the mess hall, her girlfriend, Cat, beside her, chatting about their days. Since she recovered from being sick yesterday, she had to go back to work today, and thankfully, she was assigned an easy job—animal feeding duty, which is both easy and fun.

“Shit, it’s Sandra!” Ellie hisses, grabbing Cat’s hand, “Hide!” She tugs the other girl behind a giant snow-covered bush. She peeks around it, seeing the bane of her and Joel’s existence walking up the street from the opposite direction, probably heading to the mess hall for dinner, too. The other woman is pretty far away, but Ellie doesn’t want to risk her seeing them.

“Why do we avoid Sandra again?” her girlfriend asks.

Ellie’s head turns her way; Cat’s wearing a purple beanie and an oversized navy blue coat, her dark eyes meeting Ellie’s. “God, where to start,” she says and takes a deep breath. “So, when we first moved here, Tommy and Maria tried to get Joel to go out with Sandra since they thought she was a great match for him—she’s also from Texas, pretty, widowed, and has no kids. Anyways, they tried to set them up, but Joel didn’t want to go out with her or anyone else. He was super polite when he turned her down. I guess Sandra took that as him playing hard to get, and she hasn’t left him alone since.”

“So, you avoid her, too…?”

“Oh, right—she wants to be my mom.”

“What…?”

“Yeah, every time she talks to me alone, she likes to bring up how I could use a mom, or wouldn’t it be great if I had one to take care of me and my dad—” Ellie makes a face. “—it’s always so fucking weird calling Joel that out loud.” He pretty much is her dad and she won’t correct anyone who refers to him as such, but to her, he’s Joel. “I think when she says that creepy stuff, she’s trying to get me to convince Joel to date her, but we both agree she’s nuts. Like, I overheard Joel talking to Tommy once, and apparently, some months after we got here, she came over to our house and asked if he could fix something at hers, and he went because Joel might be a bit of a grumpy dick, he’s still a good guy, and she kissed him and was all over him—you get the picture—and he got the fuck out of there, and isn’t as polite when he tells her to leave him alone now.”

“He’s made it clear he’s not interested, and she still won’t get the hint…? Does she know there are other single men in town…?”

“She only has eyes for Joel. I don’t think she’s used to men rejecting her, so now it’s her goal to get him. I mean, she’s persistent. If she sees me or him together or separately, she always talks to us; it’s awkward, and I have to tell you it’s disturbing watching someone flirt with Joel so hard—she’s not subtle at all. It’s honestly weird, and Joel is completely over it. I just don’t get why so many women in this town are into his old ass.”

Ellie has witnessed many women shoot their shots with Joel and get turned down, which is another thing that gave him and his girlfriend away—they never openly flirted, but there is a lot of friendly touching, which is out of character for Joel. The first time Ellie saw Joel open a door and guide the other woman inside with a hand on her back, she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from yelling, ‘Aha!’

“It makes no sense to me,” she continues. “This dude’s old enough to be my grandpa, he’s only got one good ear, he’s weird looking, and after a few days not showering, his feet smell so fucking bad you’ll want to chop your nose off—I swear the only reason we didn’t run into more infected while traveling is because Joel’s disgusting stench scared them away.”

Cat snorts. “You’ve mentioned how bad he smelled a lot.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t un-smell him, and it fucking haunts me.” She shudders. “Now, back on topic, Sandra creeps Joel and me the fuck out, and I’m positive his secret girlfriend would’ve murdered her by now if she wasn’t a secret.”

“Hopefully, Sandra will back off now that Joel’s relationship is no longer a secret.”

“That’d be so nice, but I’m not getting my hopes up.”

“I know you’ve never said anything, but does it bother you how young his girlfriend is?”

Ellie’s eyebrows furrow. “Why would it bother me?” she asks. “She’s an adult and can do whatever she fucking wants. I mean, I don’t understand why she’d willingly choose to be with such an old, ugly, grumpy man, but that’s her deal, and she’s pretty cool. I’m just glad Joel got with someone I like and get along with.” A horrible thought comes to her. “God, imagine if he had started dating Sandra, and I had to pretend to like her and not be weirded out by her trying to be my mom? Yeah, who gives a fuck that his girlfriend is closer to my age than his, she’s not weird and makes him happy, and that’s all that matters.” Something pops up in her brain, and she smiles. “Oh my god, Cat—” She grabs the other girl’s arm and shakes it in excitement. “—what if they had a kid? I could be a sister!” That’d be amazing. She’s always wanted a sibling. Her hands go still, and her eyebrows pull together; she’s lost feeling in the tip of her nose with how cold it is. “Wait,” she starts, “is Joel too old to have a baby? Like, I mean his stuff—” She gags. “—you know what I’m talking about. Does it go bad with age? He’s really fucking old.” Cat’s trying hard not to laugh, her gloved palm over her mouth, and Ellie shoves a finger at her. “Don’t make fun of me for not knowing! What I learned in school was pretty basic, so I know how babies are made—revolting, by the way—there’s just a lot of shit they didn’t explain in detail, and don’t get me started on the awkward as fuck conversation Joel tried to have with me when I started hanging out with Dina and Jesse.” Jesse was the first boy her age she befriended in Jackson.

“The one where in the middle of him telling you boys will say anything to get into your pants, you shouted that you didn’t like boys?”

“Ugh, yes, and then he asked me if I liked girls, and I wasn’t completely sure, so I answered maybe, and he said—” She lowers her voice to try and mimic his. “‘Well, shit, I don’t know what the sex talk is for my daughter likin’ girls’—” She spoke normally again, “You know what, I’m actually impressed with what he pulled out of his ass.” He ensured she really understood what consent is and walked her through what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like.

“To answer your question, Joel isn’t too old to have a kid.”

Ellie grins. “Wicked.” She looks around the bush to check if the coast is clear. “Looks like she’s gone. Let’s get out of here.”

When they get to the mess hall, the mood is… weird.

There’s a lot of whispering and people sneaking looks in the same direction. It only takes her a second to figure out what’s stealing everyone’s attention, and her nose crinkles at the sight.

“Cat?” She’s still staring, the other girl standing beside her.

“Yeah?”

“Am I seeing things, or is Joel really playing tonsil hockey with his not-so-secret girlfriend at our table?”

“Um, I can’t tell if they’re using tongue, but they’re definitely kissing.”

That’s obvious—the man and woman are sitting next to each other on one side of the table with their coats off, their upper bodies turned toward one another, and faces mashed together, Joel’s massive hand holding the side of her head.

“It’s weird feeling both happy for him and wanting to puke simultaneously.”

“I get it. Wanna see something that will make you feel better?”

She glances at her. “What is it?”

Cat nods her head toward a table. “Look.”

Her attention goes to where she indicated, finding Sandra clearly pissed off and glaring daggers at the couple making out, her hand clutching a fork so tight her knuckles are white.

Ellie is delighted and pulls Cat along to join Joel and his girlfriend.

“Please tell me,” she says, as they get to the table and start removing their gloves and jackets, “that you guys are being disgusting right now for the audience and that this won’t be a regular thing.”

Their mouths detach, Joel’s arm around the woman’s back while resting his other hand on the tabletop. There were trays of food for all four of them at each of their seats Joel must’ve gotten, Ellie noticing it was chili and cornbread night. The man looks at her with a close-lipped smile.

“It won’t be a regular thing—” he replies.

“—thank god,” she interrupts and sits down, Cat joining her.

“—in front of you,” he continues.

“That’s fine by me.”

He grabs his small bowl of dessert and slides it over to her.

“Peach cobbler!” she exclaims. “Fuck yeah!”

Not to be sentimental, but Ellie knows that every night they have dinner, and Joel passes her his dessert so she’ll have two, it’s him saying without words that he loves her—that’s just how they are; they suck at speaking their feelings, so they show how much they care for the other with random things like that.

“Thanks, Joel!” She ignores the chili and slice of cornbread and immediately starts digging into one of the cobblers.

“You’re welcome, Ellie—what took you guys so long? We were expectin’ you to be here before us.”

“We had to hide,” she says around a bite—it tastes so fucking good; peach cobbler is her favorite.

Joel's expression turns to one of concern. “Who the hell were you hidin’ from?”

Their girlfriends had started eating.

She swallows, giving him a look. “Who do you think?” She juts her thumb behind her. “Miss Crazypants over there, who—” She turns in her seat to find Sandra still looking pissed. “—might be Miss Murderpants now.”

“Stop starin’ and pointin’,” Joel hisses, and she faces him again.

Ellie rolls her eyes. “The woman annoys the fuck out of us, and you’re telling me not to be rude to her? A bit hypocritical, seeing as you’re clearly rubbing it in her face that you’re seeing someone.”

His jaw clenches. “That’s different.”

Her eyebrows dip together. “What?”

He adjusts in his chair to lean forward a little and starts whispering, “I want her to see us, so she’ll get the hint and leave us the fuck alone—I also want the whole town buzzin’ about me bein’ in a relationship tomorrow.”

“The first part of that, I get; the second bit, you lost me. It’s not like you to want to be the subject of town gossip.”

He straightens and picks up his spoon. “Don’t worry about it, and eat.”

That’s Joel speak for, ‘I’m done discussing this topic.’

“Okay, you fuckin’ weirdo,” she mumbles and takes another bite.

There’s some talking as they eat between all four of them. Joel seems incredibly interested in Cat’s hobby of tattooing people, which Ellie guesses is because she told him she was getting one. He’s probably just ensuring it’ll be safe and that she won’t have to worry about infections or whatever else could go wrong.

Ellie has completely demolished all the food on her tray and is stuffed, taking a big gulp of her water. She sets the cup down.

“So,” she begins, “how serious is this?” She points between the couple across from her. “Is this a fling? Is she moving in? Are you guys getting married? What can I expect?”

Joel swallows and wipes his mouth with a napkin, which he clutches in his fist as he lays it on the table.

“It’s serious,” he says. “We wanted to talk to you about her movin’ in.”

She figured that would be the case with how much time they spend together at night. Ellie’s not against the idea, but she also does not under any circumstance want to know what they do when they’re alone. She has an idea; she’s not dumb. She just prefers not having any solid evidence.

Ellie pushes her tray forward and crosses her arms on the tabletop.

“Here’s the deal: I’ll be fine with her moving in under one condition.”

He looks curious. “What’s that?”

“Whatever you guys do alone in the bedroom happens when I’m not home; I don’t wanna hear shit, I can’t unhear, and I absolutely do not want to see anything I can’t unsee. It’ll only have to be like that until you finish my apartment.”

He seems to be thinking it over. “Deal.”

“You assholes gonna get married?”

“We haven’t discussed that yet.”

His girlfriend says, “I’m okay with marriage.”

Joel’s head whips her way, and he genuinely looks surprised.

“Really?” he asks.

Ellie snorts because the other woman is looking at him like he’s dumb. “Yeah,” she answers. “What about you?”

“I’m okay with it also.”

“Great.” She smiles.

It’s nice to see Joel so happy and to know he’s found someone. She always worried he’d die alone; sure, he’d have her, but he deserved to be loved by someone and to get good things after all of the shit he’s been through in his long fucking life.

She glances over at Cat, who’s scraping her spoon along the inside of her dessert bowl to get whatever of the cobbler is left. She’s staring at it so intently that Ellie thinks she looks adorable, and it makes her smile.

“Oh, are those the ‘googly eyes’?” she hears Joel ask the woman beside him.

“Yep,” his girlfriend answers.

Cat takes her last bite and asks them while chewing, “What are ‘googly eyes’?”

Joel sounds a little too happy, “It’s how Ellie looks at you.”

Ellie quickly turns toward him. “I don’t have ‘googly eyes’!”

She wants to wipe the smug smile off of his stupid face. “Yes, you do.”

“No, you’re lying!”

He puts a hand over his heart. “God’s honest truth, baby girl, you stare at her with ‘googly eyes.’”

Her cheeks feel hot, and she wants the floor to swallow her whole. “This is so embarrassing.” She doesn’t want to talk about this anymore and remembers something.

Joel’s smiling. “It’s cute.” He starts drinking his water.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m cute, whatever,” she says, swatting away his words with her hand. She focuses on him, leaning over her arms on the table. “You know what would be really cute, now that you’ve got a girlfriend, and I think it’s still possible at your age, you’re pretty fucking old, though, but if it is possible, it’d be really cute if you guys had a baby.” She grins and nods her head.

Joel sputters and starts coughing hard. It takes him a moment to speak, and the look on his face is a mixture of confusion and anger.

“The hell do you mean if it’s possible at my age?!” he rumbles. ”I’m fifty-eight, not dead!”

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#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller/you #joel miller x you #wheresarizona writes #biwdfyis series

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kentocee · 3 days

Note

Do you still accept JJK requests?

Jjk men and the classic 'there was only one bed in the hotel room' :D

Would be great if it isn't during a mission, I prefer the peaceful AU's but you do you, whatever you like ^^

JJK Men React to Sharing A Bed With You

• JJK Men x Fem!reader HCs • (18+)

Characters: Gojo, Nanami, Toji, Choso

CW: one bed trope!, implied sexual content, suggestive content

Cee’s Note: imma be honest….I purposely left out Geto 🫣 idk why but I was blanking with him. If y’all wanna see this trope with him y’all gotta send me ideas 😭. But anywho, I hope y’all enjoy ✌🏽

**Minors do NOT interact; explicit content ahead**

Gojo

He a little TOO chill about it

He will play it off like it’s no big deal to share the bed.

He’s already getting comfortable before you could even process what’s going on.

“Don’t worry, I’ll behave. Unless you don’t want me to” 😉

You’re starting to think he tipped off the receptionist for this room.

He will find ways to be close or cuddle with you

“It’s a little chilly in here. Don’t want you to catch a cold” 😏

While cuddling, he will leave kisses to your shoulders and neck

His hands will lower inch by inch down your body, as if he was testing the waters to see if you’d let him

You didn’t oppose to the touching and before you knew it his fingers were under your panties playing with your clit

Nanami

Oh he wants this BAD but he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable

This man will risk back pains to sleep on the floor if you asked him too

But little did he know, you were about to do the same for him

“It’s ok, you can take the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor”

“Absolutely NOT!”

After two minutes of you both refusing for the other to sleep on the ground, you both decided to share the bed

Nanami keeps to his side of the bed to be respectful but that didn’t last long as you practically buried your head against his broad chest

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all, sweetheart. Comfortable?” 😉

You were comfortable alright. Even more once you were straddling his lap. 👀

Choso

You were more flustered about it than he was

He didn’t mind sharing a bed with you at all

In fact he wanted nothing more than to be as close as possible to you

If you are at the far side of the bed, he’ll frown at the gap

“You’re so far from me. C’mere” 🥺

His face was nuzzled in your neck and his arms wrapped around you from behind

With your back and bum pressed against his front, he couldn’t help the tent forming in his pants

You could feel his member pressing against your back and you may or may not have grinded your hips against him in response 🤭

Toji

So what had happened was…he could only afford the room with one bed 💀

But to him, a bed is a bed at the end of the day

Mans doesn’t care if there was one or two beds, as long as he gets some sleep

“Well aren’t you coming?”

He’s already bundling under the sheets before you could even answer

His big ass took up all the space leaving you only the edge of the bed

“To be honest, I’d prefer you on top than next to me” 😏

Despite his comment, you laid next to him and attempted to roll his body over for more space

He rolled in the opposite direction and instead rolled on top of you, with you directly under him

“This better, princess?”

Yes this was indeed better 🤭

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sinning-23 · 3 days

Text

Hot Tatted Uncles (Uncle!SukunaAu X Teacher!Reader)

I’ve fallen victim to the unkuna/uncle sukuna au so HAVE THIS

PART 2 UP NOW!!! <------- Click the link here!

_____________________________________________________

“My uncle be fighting people.” Yuji hums, your gaze immediately shooting to the toddler.

“O-Oh really?” You gulp, knowing kids say the wildest things but after you’re first encounter with the pink-hair boy's uncle, you would put it past him.

“Yeah, he. He told me uh-um-.” The boy sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, to which you sigh and directed him to the sink as he continues his story

“Uh- he told me that he beat up this guy and he- uh he won and that the guy lost.”

You fight the urge to laugh, his sentence seeming so long and incomplete. Typical toddler.

“Well we don’t fight our friends right Yuji? You be good and keep your hands to yourself?” You encourage, ruffling the boy's hair as he smiles, one of the fronts missing.

“Yeah! We use nice hands.” Yuji repeats, leaving you with your thoughts as he grabs ahold of a car to play with.

Why would you tell a 2-year-old you beat someone up?! You sigh, scrolling through your contacts, making a note to speak with his father, even though the boy hadn't done anything, it's still concerning that he might feel as if that’s okay since his uncle does it.

It’s quiet for a moment, your other three students Nobara, Megumi, and Mahito playing together….and then it happens.

WHAM!

A still silence falls over the room and soon a roar of cries as Mahito holds the top of his head. In all honestly the child was a problem so whatever he did to get smacked over the head with a wooden block was probably warranted. But the bigger problem was that you biggest fear had come to fruition. Yuji, had hit and essentially started to fight with another child, as Mahito had hit him back. You’d definitely need to speak to his father now.

The rest of the children had gone home now, Yuji being your last child as you closed your classroom down. Your class usually ended around 6:00 and it was pushing 6:15 now. Just as you were about to make your courtesy call, the door opened with the jingle of keys and a throaty chuckle.

"Look at you, giving your teacher a hard time?" The tatted male asks, scooping up a giggling Yuji with a toothy grin. You, however, were far from pleased, giving a tight-lipped smile as he just barely glances your way.

"Hi, I'm Miss Y/n, Yuji's teacher." You announce, taking a tissue to wipe Yuji's nose one last time before he left.

"Uh huh," He responds, grimacing as you wipe the snot away.

"So, Yuji had a pretty good day today, but I did have to have a chat with him about..fighting and hitting other friends." You explain, feeling smaller under his sharp gaze. His face is tatted too, the thick dark lines running along his nose, cheeks, and jawline.

"You in here beatin people up?" He states sharply at the boy who only nods with a smile.

"Yeah! Like how you said you beat everyone up!" Yuji admits ith joy and his Uncle's face falls.

"Yes so, before Yuji hit the other child he told me that you...fight people and I told him that we use our nice hands. But right after that, he had-" "Hit another kid. The parents mad?" He asks, a bit troubled now, most likely mentally cursing himself for kinda causing this whole debacle. \

"W-well I can't really disclose that. The point is, please just chat with him and hopefully, he can learn that's not okay." You explain, feeling a bit more relieved since the convo went smoother than usual. And part of you was a little... flustered with how seriously he was looking at you. You couldn't help but look at his tatted and flexed arm as he moved Yuji to sit on his shoulders.

"Yeah, well, here have my number so if anything else happens and I'm picking up you can just let me know." He hums, pulling his phone skillfully from his sweatpants pocket and

Holy shit...

You think to yourself, seeing the print just faintly. You swallow, taking the divide and inputting yoi contact.

The pair leaves, Your heart trobbbing as you take a breath. Being any type of romantically involved with your students' parents was highly unprofessional...but the rules never said anything about hot tattooed uncles.

-in the car-

Sukuna buckled Yuji into his seat, passing the child a happy meal he'd picked up as payment for a job well done.

"Nice work. How bout next time you mention your Uncles got no girlfriend either." He laughs, backing out of the parking space with your number and a grin.

Authors Note; Ok yes i wrote this on a whim I swear I'm trying to finish the stuff I had listed on my update post lmao

Also might make a part 2 for this cause I freaking love this au

#unkuna #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #reader is black #x reader #jjk au #jjk headcanons #uncle sukuna

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sourpeachsayshi · 2 days

Note

You had more thoughts about big bro Choso??

I'm listening 🎤

⊱ ─── [ marathon ] ─── ⊰

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: public (is it pseudo incest if yuji is asleep? and choso is his brother?); heavy petting; kissing; nipple play; dry humping; reader is yuji's best friend; choso is yuji's brother; non curse au; hooking up in secret; size kink

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: nyx, my beloved. I initially was going to write something short, but decided to expand on this and I'm wrapping it up as a little gift to you <3

midnight rolls around, the living room glowing in blue light. yuji is on the floor, curled into a ball with his eyes shut as he snores quietly. the movie is still playing, you know it's the last one, but you've got another hour and thirty minute left and it only just started. usually you wouldn't be so conscious of the time, eventually falling asleep, but halfway through choso decided to join you both and you've been on the edge of your seat ever since.

he's so big. his strong, muscular legs taking up quite a bit of space on the humble sized sofa. you find yourself fidgeting with your outfit. tugging at the hem of your short dress as you adjust the straps of the top.

your cheeks are already warm, even though choso is innocently just watching the movie.

"you cold?" he asks, keeping his eye on the screen but picking up on your restless movements.

"yes," you lie. it's actually quite nice - neither too hot or cold, but you figure you would feel less exposed under a blanket.

choso gets up and walks over to the other side of the room. he picks up two blankets, one which he spreads over yuji's body and the other which unfolds over your lap.

"thank you," you softly answer, snuggling underneath to conceal yourself.

"no problem," he nonchalantly replies, but your body shivers when you notice that he sits even closer to you.

you try to watch the movie, tell yourself not to think about what happened a couple of weeks ago in choso's room. you nip at your bottom lip, your belly fluttering with guilt. you swore it would be the last time. you can't keep lying to your best friend like this. hate that you've been showing up at his place more often under false pretenses.

"comfy?" a deep voice whispers against your ear, and you squeeze your thighs underneath the blanket as you swallow the lump in your throat.

a breathy response comes out of you. "yeah, I am"

"good," he answers back, his fingers moving to unravel the blanket even more. "make some room for me then, I'm starting to feel the cold too.."

another lie. but a lie that makes your heart quiver with anticipation.

silence lingers, the two of you keeping your eyes on the television screen. you glance in his direction, wetting your lips at his handsome features. his hair is out, flowing freely to his shoulders, with some of the layers pulled into a half up do. his exposed ears show off his silver jewelry, and you notice a new piercing on his helix. his dark brows frame his perpetually exhausted eyes, his jaw tight and his mouth in a firm line.

he turns towards you just as you quickly glare at the screen pretending like you weren't just gawking in his direction.

choso leans closer, intruding into your space. "this movie sucks"

"it's only slow in the beginning," you insist, "it gets better towards the middle..."

his touch is warm, it makes your thigh tingle when he places his palm over your exposed flesh.

he strokes his thumb back and forth across your skin, "does it?"

"you should pay attention," you murmur, your legs spreading on their own accord, your face finally turning to his. he's so close that your noses bump, and you look at him with sparkling eyes. "the details are really important..."

"are they?" he answers back with a slight grin, teasing you as always. his shy, introverted personality tucked away somewhere else.

your heart pounds in your chest, your attention quickly moving to yuji who is still asleep on the floor.

"I can't seem to pay attention when you've been walking around the place in this little thing all day," choso adds on, stealing your focus once more.

the heat blooms in every space that makes a pulse. you know it's been a distraction, that was the whole point of you wearing it. the top fits a little too snug, your breasts pushed up and on the cusp of spilling out. the hem was a dangerous length, and you are far too ashamed to admit it was for the purpose of easy access.

his hand trails upward, the pads of his fingers delicately tracing a path up along your inner thigh. you gasp lightly against his lips, an electric spark running up the base of your spine when you feel him press his index finger against your underwear.

"what's got you so wet?" he purrs into your mouth, his bottom lip grazing over your own.

your eyes shoot to yuji again, your anxiety out on full force.

you place one hand on his shoulder in an attempt to pull yourself out of this precarious position, but choso simply slips his free arm behind your waist and tucks you into his frame. he kisses the corner of your mouth, his affection traveling to the sweet spot against your neck.

you swallow a whimper, his mouth hot and wet against your flesh. "choso-" you whine as quietly as possible, "your brother is right there-"

his lips find yours, he silences your warning with a kiss. his thumb traces the slit of your clothed cunt, his other hand slithering upward to squeeze your left breast.

"he can sleep through a earthquake," he replies nonchalantly. "we're fine"

you know it's true, but it still feels so...inappropriate.

your hand moves to hold his jaw, your body melting into his weight while you both make out on the sofa. he arches forward, keeping your back resting against the arm chair, the blanket falling to your lap and exposing your upper body. he removes his hand from between your legs, and hooks his index finger around the straps of your dress.

he pulls them down, drags the fabric further to reveal the deep swells of your breasts. a moan leaves you when he finally releases you from his kiss, your spit slick lips panting to catch your breath. he pecks your neck, the indentations around your collar bones, and further down. his greedy hands pull at your dress, just low enough that your hardened nipples are exposed. he uses both thumbs to massage the tender buds, a satisfied expression highlighting his face.

"I knew you weren't wearing a fucking bra" he smugly states.

your head falls back against the arm rest, your body tingling with pleasure from him tweaking and rolling your nipples. you shift your head to check on yuji again, your stomach twisting into a knot out of guilt.

before you can let yourself spiral into the depravity of your sin, choso glides his tongue over one of your nipples to silence your thoughts. the blanket is barely covering you both, the hem of your dress hiked up as your body slowly becomes horizontal.

the movie plays, a scene of passionate dialogue ensuing among the characters while you and choso make out heavily on the sofa. the music carries, a sudden boom from the bass making you both freeze. you both turn to yuji, noticing him shift onto his back still heavy with sleep.

you tremble underneath choso, gazing at him with frightened eyes.

"I can't-" you insist with a shake of your head, while he sighs against your neck.

your both in this position for a seconds, until he murmurs an "okay".

before you know it he's picking you up like you’re featherlight, maneuvering your disheveled state until he has you situated on his lap. large hands find your hips, and he drags you back until you can feel his length press up against your ass.

"relax," he whispers again, his teeth nipping at your delicate lobe. "you keep watching the movie..."

you find yourself obliging as you mold into his chest, your breasts heaving when you breath heavily as he grabs one of your tits in his hand to knead at your pebbled nipple. his other hand finds your soaked underwear once more, and presses the cloth between your lips as he massages the folds.

your vision is blurry, the blue light morphing the colors and the shapes all around you. you brain is a fuzzy thing, lobes made of cotton that's slowly being plucked.

choso kisses your shoulder, his hip bucking slightly to add some friction against his cock.

"turn around"

"but-" you stutter, your back slightly arching when he pinches your nipple.

"it'll be quick, just turn around and face me..." he firmly dictates, and you're so horny at this point that you simply just oblige with frustration.

he keeps the blanket in place as you spin, straddling him properly with your arms locked around his neck.

"lay on me," he adds soft, holding you in a gentle embrace as he hides both of you underneath the blanket.

you sigh dreamily feeling the brush of his cock against your cunt, choso's hands grip onto the plush meat of your ass, and you both instantly start grinding against one another for some much needed relief. his soft tee adds friction to your chest, your nipples brushing over his hard torso. your fingers sink into the locks of his hair, your thighs spreading further as you move with a little more conviction.

"shit-" he groans, lightly tapping your ass to egg you on. "oh shit, that feels good..."

you raise yourself up slightly, forgetting for a moment that you both aren't alone. you look down at where your sexes meet, watching yourself slide back and forth over the imprint of his cock. choso stares at your pussy with concentration, one hand traveling to slip an index finger underneath the fabric. he tugs it to the side, giving you better access. you're trembling, your arousal coating the light material of his sweatpants.

choso is bucking his hips subtly, the sound of the sofa creaks mildly. his eyes fall to your chest, the dress resting just under your nipples, your body glistens as a mist of sweat glitters your skin.

your thighs quiver, a ghost of a whine muted by the television screen when your stomach flutters as you reach your orgasm. choso moans, his head falling back to the sofa when he cums, tainting his sweats with a large, noticeable stain.

the heat of the moment dwindles fast for you, and you quickly glance over your shoulder to make sure that yuji is still asleep.

choso's fingers find your chin, turning you back to face him as he lowers you to his lips. "told you nothing wakes him up," he reassures.

"we can't keep doing this," you add with a shake of your head.

"you say this every time," he notes, helping you as he readjusts the straps of your dress.

"we...we went a bit too far..."

"too far is me fucking you, sweetheart..."

you gaze at him with frustration as you slither off his lap, tugging the blanket over you as shame burns your skin. you try to readjust your position, licking your lips only to find that you can still taste him on your tongue. but then he shifts, his mouth against your ear once more.

"and we haven't done that...yet."

#choso x reader #choso x you #choso smut #choso kamo #choso kamo smut #kamo choso x y/n #kamo choso x you #choso au #choso x female reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days

Text

Winter's King 22

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: this week isn't going great but we're hoping.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You peer up at the silhouettes of the vultures perched on the peaks of the castle. Your return is met by a clear sky as the snows recede to crawling clouds across the slate expanse. The king lets you down outside the stables before he walks the horse within.

You stand just inside the doorway, outside the gathering winds that whistle through the passes and hidden crevices of the mountain. You hug yourself, shivering endlessly as you struggle to chase the cold from your bones. Once the chill creeps in it is near impossible to expel.

King Geralt’s rocky voice carries through the stable as he speaks to Roach. You glance over as another mount huffs and gives an impatient whinny. You slip further inside, letting the door shut completely. You trod along the edge of the aisle and turn down the next row. There you find Daisy’s speckled nose.

“Oh, girl,” you greet her softly and untangle a mat in her mane, “there you are.”

She sniffs you as you pet her neck. She nuzzles the collar of your cloak and you feel along the thick tendons beneath her fine hair. There is comfort in her familiarity. You long to stay there with the horses. You belong more than you do in the king’s chambers.

“Treasure...” he calls for you as you still and keep your hand on Daisy. He speaks your name next as you hear his footfalls march down the next row, harrying faster with each step. The door swings in then clatters back against the frame as Daisy knicks. “Little maid?”

You pat Daisy’s nose and retreat. You shuffle to the front and turn to follow the wall, “your highness.”

King Geralt backs out of the doorway and it snaps shut with the wind. His eyes blaze a moment before they dim. He pushes his gloves over his hair, stray strands puffing out around his hairline.

“There you are. I worried you might have blown away,” he steadies his timbre. Was he truly afraid? Did he think you would try to escape?

“Apologies, I was checking on Sir Bryce’s mount,” you explain.

“Bryce, yes,” he reaches for you and takes your hand, “he has kept you safe, has he?”

You nod, “he is a good man.”

The king’s cheek ticks, “he is my man. He only does as I bid. I commanded him to see after you. Me.”

You take a breath and bow your head, “certainly, I know so, your highness. Thank you for your protection.”

“Do you see, so long as you are close to me, you won’t need to fear,” he girds.

For so long as he keeps you close, you will only be afraid. You will fear him, you will fear his courtiers and his enemies, and you will fear the day he no long wants you near. Every flame must burn itself out and every flame will singe those who get too close.

“Yes, your highness,” you answer and look up at him again, his eyes glimmering, “Geralt.”

Your voice shakes, with more than just the cold, and you let the shiver spread through you. The king brings a hand to your chin and brushes his leather glove against your cheek. He draws you into him, holding you again his chest.

“I forget, my summer treasure, the cold is new to you,” he embraces you and bends to speak against your hat, “we must warm you before an ague might creep in.”

He lets you free reluctantly and grips your hand instead. He takes you out of the stable and towards the rear entrance of the castle. You slip in the snow, keeping you footing only for his hold on you. He stops and turns to you, tugging you near as your feet kick through the powder.

He sweeps you up in his arms without effort. He is strong and holds you across his body, cradling you as he stalks to the door. You wriggle as angles to hook two fingers through the loop and hauls open the door around you. He sidles inside and turns you, bidding you to pull the door shut. You obey and close you both in dim unlit corridor.

“Thank you, your highness,” you pat his chest lightly, “will you let me down?”

“I don’t mind. You are hardly a burden,” he grits. “Having you in my arms has me feeling much lighter.”

You drag your hand to his shoulder and squeeze through the layers, “but what if someone should happen upon us?”

He’s quiet. He keeps you aloft, shifting one way then the other, peering up and down the darkness.

“And what if they did?” He asks.

It’s your turn to be silent.

“I am king, what should they do, treasure?”

You fidget and pull your hand away from him.

“You speak true, your highness. You are the king, you may do as you will.”

He sighs and his chest heaves against you. He clicks his tongue and slowly shifts you down until your feet meet the floor. As he straightens, he drags his touch over your figure, his hand delving between cloak and dress.

“You fret very much,” he rebukes, “though I suppose caution is wise.”

“I think of you, of your reputation as king,” you assure him, “I wouldn’t want to tarnish your name. I serve the crown and I wouldn’t bring shame to it.”

“Shame?” He snarls, “never.”

He hooks his arm around you and spreads his hand across the back of your head. He pulls you into him and kisses your forehead as you tremble. He holds you like that for a moment before he parts.

“We must warm you,” he proclaims, “this way, treasure.”

He nudges you along with him. You follow his footsteps down the corridor, towards the lantern light that light the main ways. He takes you through the castle without pause, not tarrying for soldier or lord alike, though few appear in the halls. It is much too cold to leave their hearths.

You climb upward and he leads you to the winding tower. He let you up ahead of him as he holds the door. He touches your lower back through the cloak.

“You will wait for me. I have some matters to attend to,” he says, “it shouldn’t be very long at all.” He trails up your back, sending a flash of heat through you, “sit close to the hearth.”

“Yes, your highness,” you dip your head and press on, ascending as you lift the hem of your cloak and dress over your feet.

The lower door shuts only as the hinges at the top whine at your entrance. You close the chamber door and look around the space. The hearth burns still, fed by servants at intervals, and the lantern on the table shines through the steel slats that shade its flame.

You remove the cloak and hang it from an iron hook. You sit in the chair and strip off the hat, mittens, boots, and stockings; You leave the damp layers nears the hearth and lower yourself before the flames. You close your eyes and hang your head forward. You could sleep then and there.

Your peace doesn’t last very long. You raise your head as you hear someone on the stairs. You stand, readying yourself to face the king, but instead are met by a pair of pinch-faced maids. The resident servants carry steaming vessels and cross to the tub stood to the other side of the bed. They pour the water into the thick wooden walls and retreat without a word.

You spin and fold your arms. You’re taken back to the day it was you and Merinda filling a tub. Before everything became so muddled. A simple existence where you knew exactly what was expected of you.

Your heart rents when you think of your estranged companion. Merinda would know what to say. She could ease your fears, she always knew how. Ever since she came Debray, she always kept you from worry. Without her, you are lost. You only wish you’d realised then all she was to you. You were more than just maids, you were friends.

You stare at the cinders beneath the licking flames. You don’t look again as the servants come upon their second trip, and a third, and a fourth... anon and anon until the chamber thickens with the steam of the tub. You daren’t remind yourself again how much you’ve lost; how much you didn’t even know you had to lose.

You’re left in silence, facing the fire. The winds batter the tower from outside and the shuttered windows rattle. Heavy steps come up the winding staircase and you know without looking who enters behind you. The king’s sigh confirms your assumption.

“The water will ease the cold,” he says as the door shuts, “and the aches of the road.”

You shift so your stand sideways to him, “thank you, your highness.” You swallow and cough out the lump in your throat, “Geralt.”

He hums at your correction. You stand still as he moves around the chamber. He unbuckles his cloak and hangs it next to the one he gifted you. Then he nears to remove his gloves and boots, lining them up before the burning fireplace. As he stands straight, he faces you.

“You should bathe. The water is hot,” he says.

“Thank you,” you nod and reach behind your nape to untie the single lace of your dress, “so I should.”

You whisk away from him, pacing towards the tub as your hands clash clumsily. The thought of undressing before him makes you numb. You stop as the steam plume around you and drop your arms. You can’t get a grasp on the fabric. You grip the edge of the tub and stare into the water.

“You needn’t be meek,” you hear the subtle creak of his leather coat as he removes it. You peek over as he drapes it over a wooden chair. “The cold is dangerous for summerborn, you shouldn’t let it get too deep.”

You can't. You're trying to find the will. You think of all you've done. Faced the Duke and his clan, travelled to the capital, the to hinterlands, you've done it all without doubt, but the layers of fabric are too heavy a task.

You flinch as you feel a tickle along your side. You push away from the tub, dropping your arms as he king bends behind you. He raises the hem of your dress and the air is crushed from your chest. You serve, you obey, and the king’s will is plain.

You lift your arms as he strips the dress up your body and over your head. He swipes it towards the bed as your shift rumples at your hips, the unhemmed edge along your thighs. He steps even closer as he curls his fingers around the undyed linen.

You keep your arms up as he guides the fabric higher. He keeps his thumbs hooked in the cloth and turns his hands so his fingertips brush your shape. Bumps bristle over your skin and have you even colder than before. You quake as the linen blinds you for just a moment and in another, you're naked.

Your shift flaps through the air to land on your dress. The king's breath wisps out through his tight chest and he frames your hips with his large hands. He's shaking too.

He draws away slowly and you feel a rustle against you. You stand frozen as he undresses at your back. Don’t look, you can’t look. If you look, it’s real. If you look, it’s over. His clothes pile at his feet as he shifts you gasp as he presses his hot body flush to yours.

He brings his hands up your arms and along your neck. He frames your head and kisses your crown, his thumb toying with a shank of your uneven hair. You bite down as he urges you closer to the tub.

You move without without resistance, one leg over the edge then the other. He follows, thick legs plunging into the roiling water. He keeps you snug to him as he lowers himself, easing you atop him. You rest over him and his need makes itself known between you. You stare at the stone wall and steel yourself, the water adding fire to the ice inside of you.

He exhales as he relaxes under you, letting his hands crawl over your stomach and hips, feeling every inch of you. From the crook of your neck to your thighs. He smears water over your face as he touches your cheeks and traces your jaw. He quivers as snarling breaths escape him.

“This is how it should be, treasure,” he wraps his hands around yours and folds your arms, resting his clutches over your chest. “I suppose you’ve never heard the tale of Cerill and Wynifred.”

You stare at his knuckles, the hair that trims his rough flesh, the grip in his paled joints.

“Never,” you assure him.

“Cerill was a warrior. A loyal soldier. A man who served his king with all his being. He was knighted on a battlefield. Once a stablehand, then a hero. The king, Fazon, he had a wife, Wynifred. A queen who was kind and sweet. They were ill-matched for every misfortune he aimed at her, rather than its true crux,” he regales you as his voice fills the chamber, wafting with the steam.

“But she was obedient. She lived by her vows. For years. But she was mortal as any woman might be and the cruelty of her husband weakened her. And Lord Cerill was valiant and strong and gentle. Everything her husband was not. How could she restrain herself from the comfort he offered? Neither meant to betray their king but some things, some forces, are strong than those writ by men and their quills.”

You listen, certain of the purpose of his telling. You are not legendary lovers, you are not lost to wives’ tales and children’s stories, you are here, you are alive, and there is nothing fantastical about any of it. He might believe whatever but you haven’t that luxury. He will not hear the doubts, you will feel them.

“And what happened to them?” You ask with foreboding. There are stories similar in the summerlands; of pages and their masters’ wives or daughters.

“Yes, well, we know of them because they were found out, I suppose. They knew they would not evade the king’s vengeance but they refused to bend to it. So, they fled into the forest and found a sacred root. That plant is meant for the sickly, to ease their end. They consumed it together and died in each others’ arms. Just as they were found.”

You lay in silence. The forbidden love hardly tweaks at your heart, but more, you tremble to think of the king’s wrath. Of how a king might wrought his temper upon any and all. Even a wife, even a knight. It is no romantic tragedy; it is a lesson in the power of men.

“Apologies it is not a happier conclusion,” he says.

“The stories are never very happy,” you murmur. Or the truth.

He hums as squeezes your hands. The water is still as you lie in his mercy. This cannot last. Just as in his story, there will only be pain.

As if to confirm your unspoken dread, a knock sounds on the door. The king jerks, the water sloshing around him as he sits you up with him.

“Geralt, King of Rivia and the Hinterlands,” the growl cuts through meanly, “come rule your people!”

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher #winter's king #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au

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unknownanomoly · 3 days

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I have decided to continue the trend!~ but cats instead! I personally think the cats came out better but that's only because I have drawn cats my entire life and I never drew lambs before joining the cult of the lamb fandom. Also I wanna say a few things. I'm sorry for anyone's lambs I misgendered in the last post, also for aveloka this took me about 2 hours, one hour rough draft sketch another hour for full sketch/outline. And I think that's it for now... anyways, cats!

@oneofthosenightbees I love Narinder's cloak so much! very creative! and also thank you for the picture of my lamb! I squealed so loud i thought I woke my family @bamsara the face was hard but I loved drawing them so much, again cloak was really fun, the cloak on like all of these Nari's were really fun to draw tbh @cotl-flower-crown I love the fluffy cloak thing, and just how angry they look! @melled42 your lamb sadly didn't get into my last post since I started following you after I made that, but I drew your Nari! I love them very much and having them as a hairless cat is very creative! I love the idea!

@ballad-of-the-lamb I love how annoyed your Nari looks! and also their outfit was really fun! Also sorry about the lamb thing, idk which lamb to chose so i choose the first one i saw! but still, I love your Nari very much! @xmajordumps I drew them from when shamura was threatening them, I hope I did it well since you know, they were kinda covered in blood and all! but really fun shaped and all! they look so angry! (why are all the narinders so angy?) @slate021 I love drawing fluffy cats so much! I love drawing fluff in general and your Nari satisfied the fluff meter. @faery-the-diamond Yours is so simple and yet somehow so complicated, I love your AU and how the lamb is a crown and Nari pretty much needs to tend to everything in the cult, its kinda funny tbh, I love your Nari!

@acis-arts so adorable! They look like a child, I just wanna pick them up and kidnap them! (im gonna kidnap them) @neon-virus yours looks so nice, and such like a gentleman, so handsome! Can I adopt them? And if not can I kidnap them? And if not well too bad, their mine now @seffen yours looks like it's gonna take your eyes out and then watch you slowly die of blood loss... so in other words adorable demon that I wanna hold even if it hates me! @voidheartkisses Adorable! so innocent looking! I loved drawing them, their fluff, the ears also, I've never drawn ears like that before! @alllgator-blood Just like the lamb I love the shapes and I love how your Narinder's personality is like! It's so funny! @foxritz Yours looks grumpy, maybe it's just how I drew them? but the fluff was fun and also the ears were also quite different from what I'm used to so It was also fun to draw those!

@plenty-sheep-in-the-sea from what I know you don't have a lamb that is posted yet so sadly I couldn't draw a lamb for you in my last post! But your traumatized young Narinder is adorable! @unwri-ten I loved drawing them, they give such a sassy drag queen kinda vibe, if that make sense (?) @aubeezz Yours is adorable and fits with how I drew your lamb very well! I love the cheek fluffs! Adorable! @skyartworkzzz thank you for pointing out the gender thing, again I'm sorry about that! but moving on! Your Narinder was really fun to draw, the little cheek fluffs on the side remind me of my own narinders cheek fluffs! I also love the cloak! @rampantram Yours is absolutely lovely, I love your art style a lot! Just as fun as drawing your lamb! I look up to you a lot!

@ghosts-and-glory can yours age or does their fur just fall out? anyways! I love your AU, the storyline is amazing and when I first found you I sat there rereading like every comic kinda thing I could find on your account like 50 different times! @aveloka-draws Yes I'm ok. No it does not take long. I loved drawing your Nari, they look confused but pissed, and yet again all Nari's look pissed no matter what, the outfit is also really fun! I love drawing your style of characters, their so pointy and fun... if that also makes sense in anyway...?

Here is my Narinder! He's based off of a mink color point cat! So instead of being black, he's a brown cat with black smoked patterns, or known as the Siamese markings! He lost all memory of the bishops being killed and himself defeated, so Lamb helped him through it until he gained his memory back, and when he did he became a lot like Shimura. He was pretty much mindless in a way... I just wondered around aimlessly and wouldn't respond, sometimes he comes back but very rarely, Lamb worries about him a lot. the cloak was made by lamb as a welcome gift to make Nari feel for comfortable in the cult! Also the thing on Nari's finger is a butterfly! It's his butterfly friend! No name yet but if you have ideas but tell me, I'm terrible with names! Sometimes he has panic attacks which make his eyes cry blood, plus whenever he opens his third eye it instantly starts bleeding. He also has eyes on the palms of his hands but you can't see them at the moment, he can see how people die with them!

#mistaken #au #my au #other au #cotl narinder #cult of the lamb narinder #narinder #cotl art #cotl fanart #cult of the lamb art #cult of the lamb fanart

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momowritings · 2 days

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K i l l i n g M e S o f t l y

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader

Summary: It's hard to compete with a ghost. Especially when that ghost was Toji Fushiguro's wife.

Wrd Ct: 20k

tags: angstyyy, established relationship, complicated relationships, non curse au, vaginal sex, missionary, wall sex (?), oral sex (f receiving), breeding kink, DILF Toji, grief/mourning, Toji is trying to be a good dad to Megumi, Toji has a praise kink, mentions of mamagumi, open ending

Part One, Part Two

Part Two

You managed to speak a grand total of five words from the time you got into bed with Toji to the moment you all sat in the car to watch Megumi board the train. Good night, good morning, and thanks. He wasn’t going to take more than he was given, but the way you even avoided his gaze was really getting under his skin. Both of his hands were glued to the steering wheel as he drove, and the music playing from the radio was the only thing to break the heavy silence in the car.

When you all arrived at the station, you held Megumi in your arms, giving him a tight hug. “Don’t be a stranger, alright? Please take care of yourself. And take your vitamins!”

Megumi laughed. “I’m still going to visit on the weekends.”

“I guess that’s true. I’m impressed that you go to a top school but it sucks that you have to live there. I was hoping to push off this experience until you got to college,” you sniffed. Megumi gave you one of his signature soft smiles.

“I’ll call you, I promise.”

“Thanks, Megs, but also, have fun. I’m not trying to smother you.”

Behind you and Megumi was Toji who watched you talk. Megumi caught his gaze over your shoulder. Toji gave you both enough space that you weren’t within earshot so Megumi could speak freely.

“I know it’s not really my place to talk about it…. but my dad really likes you. And I like having you around too. Please don’t give up on him yet.”

Megumi eyed his father again who was fiddling with the handle of his suitcase, trying his best to look unbothered. Toji has a lot of faults, yes, but Megumi could tell that he was trying. Megumi hated to think that a good thing for his dad was going to end so soon.

“I’m trying to be more understanding,” you said honestly. You turned your head to the side, looking at Toji out of the corner of your eye. “And I love your dad. You don’t have to worry about us, okay?”

You patted Megumi’s head and Toji finally came up behind you, giving his son an awkward pat down that was supposed to be a hug.

“Study hard. Remember how I taught you how to hold a knife and how to use it. Don’t stay out too late.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

You snorted at the short exchange, and you and Toji both watched Megumi get on board. You waved until the boy was too small to see through the window, then stood quietly together.

“I need to visit my friend later today. I’ll probably stay over there tonight.”

Toji raised his brow at you. You were really determined to stay away from him.

“This is the first time you mentioned this.”

You shrugged your shoulders and started to make your way back to the car. “I can’t predict when her ain’t-shit boyfriend is going to break her heart.”

Toji frowned. It didn’t have to be a double meaning, but he felt like it was. “Do you want me to drop you off?”

“Hmm, no thanks. If anything happens while I’m over there I’d like to have my own car.”

“Right… Anything else?”

You stood in front of the car door he opened for you. With your eyebrows drawn together you shook your head. “Are you expecting anything else?”

“No. Let’s go.”

Halfway back home you took Toji’s hand just to hold. You didn’t say anything, and he didn’t ask any questions, but when you laced each of your fingers in between his heart calmed down. He brought the back of your hand up to give it a kiss. Toji was getting into his own head. Maybe you weren’t trying to avoid him. He still had the chance to fix this.

When you got home you went right to packing your bag for your overnight stay. Toji watched you at the doorway, his arms crossed and his frown deepening. Not that he didn’t care for your friend but fuck did she have the worst timing. You folded over one of his hoodies to put in a duffle bag and he walked up behind you, carefully holding your waist to not break the delicate beads that you wore, and rested his head on your shoulder. You took a shower in the morning but he could still smell the shea butter scents on your skin. He took a deep breath in and sighed. You continued to fold clothes into your bag, trying to ignore his wandering hands that had your breath catching.

“What am I going to do with you gone?”

“I’m sure you’ll find some home project that needs improving,” you snorted.

“I’ll miss you. I mean it.”

You turned around to meet Toji’s eyes and wrapped your arms behind his neck. He gripped you even tighter, your back curving to his touch. He wondered if you could hear how fast his heart was beating in his chest. The idea of you staying mad at him before you left was eating him up and he needed the reassurance that you two were okay.

“Want me to cook something for you before I leave? I can make your favorite.”

Instead of answering, Toji hovered his mouth over yours. The tip of his nose brushed your cheeks, deciding on which side he should tilt his head. With parted lips you both shared the same air, silently waiting for the other to take the first step.

“Can I kiss you?”

You released a breathy laugh. “Since when did you start asking?” He held your chin with his thumb, and he dipped your head back to cover your lips with his. With a familiar hunger he gently pushed you on the bed, fumbling to get your bag on the floor without spilling all the contents inside.

“Toji–” you mumbled into his mouth, trying to clear the fog that was in your head. You weren’t mad, not as much as you were in the morning at least, but this still wasn’t the best idea. Not without having a serious conversation.

However, talking could wait after he was done working his tongue on you.

Toji left red hot trails down your body, littering your neck and chest until he got disrupted by your clothes. He took off your top with ease, taking time to admire your bronzy skin before resuming his worship. He lapped at one nipple and rolled the other with his thumb and forefinger until you were squirming beneath him, just to switch off and continue the tortuous process. Toji didn’t stop until you were panting. You grabbed a handful of his hair to pull him off your breast to smash your lips on his mouth.

You directed his hand to cup your sex, grinding shamelessly to get him to move on. Toji grinned in the middle of the kiss. He loved it when you dropped your reservations and started to want him in the same fashion. Your fingers scraped his scalp and he groaned, resuming his path down the hills and valleys of your body, stopping once he reached your navel to slowly slip off your shorts. He swirled his tongue over your belly button while removing your shorts and it sent a shock up your spine.

“You’re always into weird shit,” you groaned. Toji couldn’t do anything other than chuckle. He’s still on the tip of the iceberg of all the things he wanted to do to you, but he would get you there someday. With your legs bared he could finally see how you were dripping wet for him. Ever the tease he sucked on his two middle fingers, taking them out with an obnoxious pop to drag them over your folds. You arched your back to his touch, breathlessly urging him to give you more.

“I thought you always say that I rush it,” he smirked. His fingers glided over your sex, rubbing circles on your clit before dipping inside of your heat. You mewled, twisting underneath him, your chest rising and falling rapidly. “You could always stay home so it could last longer.”

“Je- ah! -Jess needs me,” you whimpered when his fingers curled against your spot that brought tears to your eyes while putting his thumb on your clit. Tears brimmed your eyes, a look that Toji enjoyed looking at and he climbed up again to kiss them away. He licked the salty liquid off of his lips, straying from your eyes so he could reach the junction of your neck. Toji continued to stimulate both spots, his fingers reaching deep inside of you and his thumb drawing out moans from you until you were kicking the sheets on the bed.

“I need you,” Toji murmured in your skin. He was unsure if you heard him. You gazed at him with watery eyes but you were too overcome with your speeding climax to catch what he said. He dropped to his knees, dragging you to the edge of the bed and threw your legs over his shoulders. He left butterfly soft kisses on the inside of your thighs, his fingers grazing over your quivering thighs until you gripped his hair.

“Don’t you wanna make it up to me?” You asked in a husky voice. The edges of your sentence trembled with anticipation and a challenge. His eyes widened then darkened at your words. He couldn’t really tell what you were thinking. He hated that; being left in the dark and completely at your mercy. This was his chance to have you only focus on him and how good he could make you feel.

Toji buried himself nose deep in between your legs, lapping up your arousal and you thrashed around in his tight grip, drenching his tongue with your come. Your thighs threatened to crush his head between your thighs. Toji didn’t mind it, only continuing his onslaught against your sanity. Your hips drew back away from him, looking for a break only for his mouth to follow incessantly. It wasn’t until you dragged his head out from your cunt that you got relief, but as soon as you did you still wanted more.

You could taste yourself on his tongue when you pulled him up, the remnants of your orgasm evident, shiny on his lips and down his chin. You were on your knees on the bed, making you the same height as him, and with your mouths welded together you worked your hands to get him out of his pants. Toji stood painfully hard. The moment you started to stroke his hot length a guttural groan escaped his lips. You kissed his jaw and neck until you got to his shirt.

“Take this off,” you ordered in a thick voice, and within the next second his shirt was flung to some obscure corner of the room. You harshly bit his shoulder once you had access to his pale skin, then ran your tongue over the area to soothe it.

“You know how to take care of me, baby,” you whispered in his ear, telling him exactly what he needed to hear. Over time you learned that Toji enjoyed the praise that fell from your lips, craved for it. His ears would take a fiery shade when you complimented him outside of the bedroom, so naturally it carried on inside of it as well. You took only a moment to break away to spit in your hand, mixing the saliva and precum that gathered to glide over him. You bumped noses with Toji to get him to focus on your face. He looked at you through his dark lashes and you focused more on his frenulum, making a tight circle right below his tip and his eyes rolled back into his head. His hand that rested on your hip had nails that dug into your skin. You thumbed his slit and spoke in his ear again.

“You’ve always been good to me,” you murmured. “Just take me like you mean it.”

You were on your back once again, pressed deep in the sheets with Toji deep in you. Every attempt to say his name was lost by his movements. Toji fucked you just as you asked, leaving no room for you to doubt him. He was rough, pushing you into different positions that made his length reach the end of you, his mouth sloppily covering yours until you were gasping for air. When he flipped you on your stomach, Toji’s unabashed moans went directly in your ear, fucking you through another orgasm out of you with his hand squeezing the front of your neck. He twisted, bit, and sucked your nipples so much prior that the collapsed position on the bed made them hypersensitive against the sheets. The tears rolling down your face attested to it. Your hands were clawing at the sheets from the overwhelming sensations.

Toji wondered if you could feel the desperation coursing through him. The apologies he wasn’t good at, the sincerity, the need he has for you, his love. He hoped it all translated well with every touch even if it was rough around the edges. It wasn’t until you were shaking again, your cunt messy from another climax that his strokes shortened. Toji threaded his fingers through your hand that was outstretched above your head, and you latched onto him like a lifeline. You cried out when he slammed into you one last time, painting your insides white.

He was resting in you, barely holding himself up to keep from crushing your frame completely. You shook off his hand that was holding him to snake it up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to your side for one last kiss. It was salty from sweat and tears yet sweet, clumsy, and reassuring. You were clearly tired, and he was still inside of you, but you were no longer in a rush to leave. You deflated back into the bed and Toji got up to get a wet cloth to wipe you down. Once you were clean he laid beside you and you gave him a sleepy smile, your eyelids half open.

“You win, for now. I’m too tired to go anywhere right now. Wake me up in an hour,” you murmured, already falling asleep by the end of your sentence. You looked so peaceful when sleeping, like all was well and there were no problems between the two of you. Toji wished that he could sleep untroubled in the same manner, but all he could do was watch you drift away with his arms around you.

~*~

Toji stared at his empty phone after he got off of a call with you. You had just let him know that you were at your friend’s house, and Megumi was away doing school stuff, so he was alone on a weekend, something that hasn’t happened in a very long time.

He poked at the device, his mind wandering. There were things to do, he would find something to do, but instead he typed in “therapists near me” in the search engine. It couldn’t be that bad. You were right, he never officially went through a grieving process, whatever the hell that meant. His wife died and the next ten years were a blur. He happened to run into his son and Megumi didn’t even know who he was. He never knew how much he looked like his mother and it snapped something back into place in Toji’s brain. All he knew is that he had to fix what he ruined all those years ago.

The fixing was still in process, and Megumi lets him off the hook way more than he fucking should, but maybe that’s why the mistakes and dreams were happening so often. Toji got his son back, he found you, and his life was… normal. It was something that he wanted since he was a child, but it came only after her death. His stormy life has finally become calm and now he has to sift through the broken pieces left behind.

Toji turned off his phone after reading reviews of a counselor. They all seemed full of shit. Clients talked about their feelings for a month and suddenly they were doing a lot better? Right. The feelings he had will pass, they always do. He didn’t need someone to tell him that what happened all those years ago fucked with his mind. The gap in his memory was a clear indicator already. He didn’t want to go poking around there either.

After long deliberation Toji decided to go to a bar he used to frequent in the beginning of the relationship. The both of you became homebodies the longer you dated, but after he brought you there the first time it was the one place he found that the two of you could agree on going first and letting the night play out after when you weren’t to sure on what else do to for date nights but wanted to get out of the house. Upon entering and taking his section on the counter the familiar face of one of the bartenders came to serve him. With a smile without words she immediately started to prepare a cosmo for him out of habit, because it was something you ordered. Toji had to stop the bartender once he realized what she was doing.

“She’s not with me tonight.”

Her eyes went wide with surprise. The only woman Toji continually had around him was suddenly no longer here. Toji could see the stories building up in her head and immediately put a stop to it.

“She’s out with her friend. Girl’s night.”

“Ah, that makes sense. I was worried there for a second,” the bartender giggled. “Just water for you still?”

“Actually, I’ll have a glass of whisky. Neat.”

Once again the eyebrows on the bartender almost touched her hairline. He has never taken a sip of alcohol no matter how many times he stepped foot inside of the bar, no matter what sugary concoction you ordered, so she never thought she’d see the day. She snapped out of her astonishment when Toji gave her an annoyed stare and quickly made his glass. She slid it over to him and he drank it in a flash.

“Another one,” he ordered, and gingerly she took the glass.

Toji eyed the TV overhead, half listening to the program playing when he heard a familiar voice come from beside him. The bartender handed him his second glass when the guest guffawed at Toji.

“I didn’t think I would ever see you again.” A sharply dressed Korean man slipped into the seat next to Toji at the bar and it made him gawk for a second. As always, a cigarette hung from the other man’s lips, unlit and carefully balanced. His tie that he usually wore was nowhere around his neck, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone.

“Well you did say the only time you ever want to see me again is in hell,” Toji remarked after the moment of unexpectedness passed.

“That I did say. Almost thought I died for a second.” Toji gave the man a side eye, then they both let out wry laughs.

“What are you doing here, Shiu?”

“Nothing you’re interested in. I heard you retired.”

“Heard right,” Toji grunted. He stared down his glass and downed the rest of the ambery liquid. It stung on the way down, but he was on the third glass and still didn’t feel any buzz like he had hoped. Drinking never did much for Toji. He didn’t know why he thought tonight would be any different.

“Never thought I’d live to see the day.” Shiu shook his head in disbelief. He worked with Toji when he was at his lowest for years doing unsavory business. He knew that he was dealing with a broken man, someone who would take anything that was given to him because it would be better than working with his blood relatives, so when the news finally got around to him he couldn’t believe that Toji finally decided to stop working underground. He had a hard time imagining what Toji could do anywhere else. Seeing him in the flesh, alive and relatively well was a sight to behold.

“Usually I wouldn’t pry because it’s none of my goddamn business, but I’m feeling a little loose tonight. What made you leave? What do you do now?”

Toji waved down the bartender to fill his glass once again, and he gulped the drink down with a sigh before answering. “I got my kid back and I teach other spineless fuckers how to defend themselves for a living.”

Shiu gave him an incredulous look. “Megumi lives with you? And you just help people now?”

“Yeah. Why do you look like that’s impossible for me to do or something?”

“The last time I asked you about your kid you didn’t even remember his name and you used to blow people’s brains out for cash. Sorry if I find it hard to believe,” Shiu chuckled.

“Better believe it.”

“So what’s the problem? I find you here after all this time, drinking when you told me before that it has no effect on you. The only other thing that made you this way was lady issues.”

Toji ran his finger over the edge of his glass silently. If Shiu wasn’t being annoying before, he was now.

“Seriously? You? You married again? Third time’s the charm,” Shiu winked.

“I’m not married.”

“If she’s not your wife then why the hell are you moping around like this?”

“Fucking hell, Shiu. I like you better when you don’t talk.”

“Suck it up. You’ve piqued my interest.”

Shiu finally lit the cigarette that he held in his lips and called the bartender over for his drink. After a long drag, Shiu released the smoke. It billowed up in front of both of the men, its tendrils grazing Toji’s face that made his nose itch.

“So you got a woman. She’s not your wife but what, you’re thinking about marrying her? Being nervous about that kind of thing is not something I believe would bother you so no, that’s not it. But maybe it is. Maybe marriage isn’t the problem right now, but it will be pretty soon. And seeing how you suddenly got soft, a fight that you guys had is shaking you up. You’ve always been pretty attentive to the few women in your life that you actually liked outside of a place to sleep.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Toji gritted.

“Right on the money,” Shiu smirked. “I happen to like you more when you don’t take yourself as seriously. So what is it? She must be terrible and won’t let you do anything or you guys are fighting all the time and you’re starting to think it’s not worth it.”

“Neither. Believe it or not, I’m the problem.”

“I figured. I was just trying to be on your side for a little bit.”

Toji stared down at the empty cup as he spoke. The words were moving faster than the ability he had to actually process what he was admitting to. It seems like all the drinks were finally catching up to him. He confessed everything before he could bring himself to shut up.

“We’ll be doing great, her and I, and then Megumi’s mom starts showing up again. She lurks in my mind, haunts my dreams, creeps into our lives. I'm calling my late wife’s name instead of her and it’s breaking her down. She doesn’t even want to be around me right now.”

It was so silent between them that Toji had to look up to Shiu. He had the stick between his fingers, the ember smoldering and Shiu’s eyebrows were raised for the umpteenth time.

“Of all the things you could have said, I wasn’t expecting that. Could you blame the girl?” “Why do you think I’m here?”

“Give her some time to cool off but you fucked up.”

Toji tried to wave the bartender over once again but Shiu stopped him. Toji gave him a hard stare, one that could kill a man if the man wasn’t Shiu.

“I know you don’t do this often but you will be shit faced if you keep that up. Leave now while you can still walk in a straight line.”

“Yeah right.” Toji shrugged him off. He didn’t feel that much different, but he took Shiu’s advice. He left a hefty tip in his place and left the bar, getting in his car and driving on autopilot until he suddenly was in front of a graveyard. Toji hasn’t been here before, even the day that they buried her. He was just told the location and avoided it at all costs.

Your voice rings in his ear again, telling him that he could talk to you about his wife if it made it easier. It still baffled him how he managed to find someone as understanding as you when he didn’t even have the balls to attend the funeral. Her grave was, as expected, large, gray, and cold. He stood in front of it, not saying anything, dusting off the leaves that piled on the top of the stone.

“I met someone new,” he started, shocking himself but he kept going. “I think you’d like her. She’s like you in some things, completely different in others.”

Wind blew through Toji’s hair and he realized that he left his jacket in the car. Or maybe at the bar. He hoped that wherever you were you had a jacket. You got cold so easily, your fingers turning to icicles at the slightest temperature drop.

“I’m taking care of Megumi the best way I can. I fucked up in the beginning, almost ruined everything, but he’s a great kid. All his best qualities are from you.” Toji sighed and looked up at the starless sky. There was no moon either, just an expanse of darkness that stretched in all directions. A helicopter with blinking lights passed through his vision, breaking the sea of black.

“I love her. You’d probably say some shit like you want me to be happy, and I’m trying to be. It’s harder than it looks,” Toji huffed out a dry laugh. He looked back at the grave.

“Thank you.”

~*~

When you showed up to Jess' place she was exactly how you expected her to be; angry. She had heavy metal music blaring through her speaker so loud you worried for her neighbors. She was actually in a much better mood than you expected. Before when she had first broken up with her boyfriend (along with the second and third time), you were welcomed to big, soppy tears running down her face and a handful of tissues clenched tight in her fist. You guessed that with each breakup Jess hardened her heart more until there were no more tears left to give and only anger remained.

You let her get her emotions out, tidying up the place while she told you every shitty thing her boyfriend did, things that you had said that he was going to do because you already knew that he was bad news, until she was out of breath from screaming and talking and finally sat down on the couch with you.

“Feeling better now, babe?”

Jess held a pillow in front of her and her face was obscured by it, her answer coming out muffled. “No.”

“But you will be. He was only holding you back,” you reassured.

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever. I hope he falls in a ditch somewhere.”

“Me too,” you said, handing her a wine glass and you both sat in silence for a few beats. You were lost in your thoughts full of Toji when Jess called out your name.

“Your boyfriend– his last name is Fushiguro, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I was talking to a client today. More like listening in on his conversation. Real sick fucker, kept calling all the girls sluts and whores, and not in a cute way. Unfortunately, he wanted me to dance for him in the booth, and I heard him talk about Toji. I mean, I don't know about you, but I don’t think that there’s that many Toji's out there. Anyway, this blond motherfucker keeps talking about trying to find a way to bring Toji back into the family. Whether he means that literally or it’s some yakuza shit, I don’t know. What I do know is that he said that he wished he knew if Toji was with anybody so that they can use them to bring him in. Obviously your Toji’s girlfriend now, and you mentioned that he used to have a wife. I just thought it was strange. This guy’s last name was Zen’in though. He mentioned it like, 50 times. I think he’s supposed to be important.”

“It’s gotta be some type of coincidence.”

“Yeah, I fucking hope so. Do you really know Toji? I mean blondie was a bitchboy but the other guys he was surrounded with… I don’t know. If it is your Toji, he’s dangerous.”

“… Toji isn’t like that.”

Jess gave you a hard stare. Neither of you believed the lie you were trying to convince yourself of. You knew that Toji must be a lot more dangerous than he let on, but it seemed to be in the past.

“Anymore! Whatever he did before he met me is none of my concern. He has a kid that he’s very devoted to and he’s been… well he says that he loves me. I just have to trust him.”

“Right, until he gets you killed.”

“Jess!”

“Don’t shoot the messenger! I’m not wishing any harm on you, just be careful.”

“Oh wow thanks for putting that thought in my head,” you sarcastically grumbled. You huddled yourself in a small ball on her couch and didn’t notice Jess studying you intensely.

“So what’s up with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you barely talked about Toji since you came in.”

You gave you a pointed look. “You called me on the phone crying that you're finally over your boyfriend and I’m supposed to talk about mine?”

“True… but this feels different. You didn’t even bring him up in passing. You’ve said nothing about Toji.”

“Right now it is about you, love.” It was a dodgy answer, both you and Jess knew it, and she stared you down until you cracked and told her what had happened the night before and everything preceding it. She winced at the mention of Toji’s late wife the same time you did and went into deep thought.

“So how are you feeling?”

“Like an asshole. I know it’s really not his fault.”

“You have been dating for how long now?”

“Gonna be six months pretty soon.”

“Six months? You’re better than me,” Jess side-eyed you.

“He was married. That’s a big deal.” You didn’t even know why you were getting defense for Toji. It’s been bothering you too, a lot more than you let out to him. Now you felt like you actually had a reason to pull back instead of it all being in your head.

“Married yeah, but been with you for a while now. You’d think he’d try not to mix you up. What if… what if you’re a replacement? Like he doesn’t actually see you. ”

The thought has crossed your mind before and you fell into a deep silence. If you had been asked this just a few weeks ago you would’ve confidently been able to say no. However, now… now it seemed totally plausible.

“You could remind him of his wife so much and that’s why he likes you.”

“Stop,” you muttered, but Jess didn’t hear you.

“I know you don’t know anybody who was close to her but what if you two look alike? What if—“

“Shut up! What is wrong with you?”

“I was just saying—“

“It’s his late wife, and I’m not anything like her.” Your voice was cold and heavy, settling in the air with a deadly finality. Jess was stunned, but then she gave you a saddened smile.

“You don’t know that, but you’re right, I'm meddling again. You know what we should do? Go out. I’m tired of being the entertainer, I want to be entertained.”

You were grateful for the change of sec energy after the conversation, even if you had to get ready in a whirlwind. Jess put you in one of her dresses and you were glad that you two were similar sizes and styles. You choses a simple silk dress that went down just past your knees with a high collar but an open back. Jess, who never gave up the chance to show off her legs, donned a plum dress with a halter neck and a skirt that flared and stopped mid thigh . Low yet stylish black heels were clad to both of your feet, as you decided that you would take a taxi and walk to the club instead of trying to find parking with your car. To your surprise Jess chose a jazz club, and music poured from the open door down the street, soothing and flowing like honey that calmed your soul. Immediately you thought of how you would love to go here again with Toji and you shook the thought out of your head.

“I'm here with Jess,” you muttered to yourself.

Jess turned around and cocked her head to the side. “Did you say something?”

“No. Nothing. Let’s head inside.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

The night was supposed to be about Jess, and you weren’t going to let her focus on you like this. You dragged her inside of the establishment, your eyes adjusting to the dimly lit space covered in a thin veil of smoke. You couldn’t hear it from the sidewalk, but now inside here was a woman singing on the stage. The embodiment of old Hollywood, a silver sequined dress glittered on her smooth, caramel skin as she sang romantically into the mic. Her body swayed side to side, getting lost in the music, drowning in it, and you wished that you could be absorbed by the melody like she was.

It was Jess’s turn to drag you around since you fell into the trance of the singer, and she chose a booth tucked away on the wall. You still had a great view of the stage, but close enough to the bar.

Jess went to do her thing, standing at the bar and sitting pretty and batting her eyes to the people around her. It didn’t take long for a drink to be offered to her, and it worked like a charm every single time. You had thought that was the case for you as well when a strawberry margarita was brought to you at the table by a waiter, but when they pointed in a direction opposite of Jess you were more inclined to search for the sender.

A familiar face, or rather faces, gazed back at you. White tufts of icy hair, crystalline blue eyes peering about black circular shaded, and a million watt smile flashed at you while the other face had dark pupils and sharper eyes, but a comforting grin you knew well.

You waved for Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto to come over to your section with a wide smile.

“Satoru? Suguru? What are you guys doing here?”

You stood up to hug the both of them and inspected their faces. It has only been a few years since you last saw them in college. Gojo’s hands remained on your back while Surugu gave you a recap of the last few years without you. Just then, Jess came back with two drinks in her hand and a confused look. You quickly introduced her to your old friends.

“Jess! This is Suguru and Satoru… I met them back in college,” you explained. As soon as Suguru’s name left your mouth Jess zeroed in on him with a seductive stare.

“So you're one of her friends. I was afraid that I was the only one she got,” Jess purred. She didn't even bother with Satoru, only giving him a quick nod of acknowledgement before giving her undivided attention back to Suguru.

“It looks like you’ve been taking good care of her,” Suguru praised, returning the interest with his own heavy gaze. When he took Jess’s hand you couldn’t believe your eyes. You lost your friend to Suguru the moment he opened his mouth. Turning to Toru instead, you pulled him down to sit next to you.

“While they do that over there,” you said, “Tell me what’s been going on with you! Are you still drinking straight sugar for the hell of it?” “Ha-ha,” Satoru laughed dryly. A bright smile was still plastered on his face. You took him in full, his casual black t-shirt and thighs clad with dark washed jeans, and his signature black frames pushing up his hair and framing his face. He wore a fresh and sweet smelling cologne that even you would get. On the outside, Satoru seemed great. However, you’ve known him for a long time, managed to become someone who he cared enough about to call a friend and you took the title seriously. You knew how well he hides his emotions because he’d rather keep things light. He did it extremely well that sometimes it was hard to tell what exactly could be wrong.

“Stop psychoanalyzing me before you burn holes through my head.

“That’s my line, high beams.” you shoved him with your shoulder. “I just feel like we never talk anymore. I’ve missed you.”

A sly smile crept over his face. “Told you that America wasn’t all that. You just had to learn it the hard way.” “Yeah, you’re right there.” You took large gulps of your drink until it was finished and sighed. Gojo raised his brow.

“What’s that about?”

“Ask me after my third drink,” you said, calling the waiter over.

“Drinking away your woes has never worked for you. In fact, I remember when you drank so much you got confused and said that I was kidnapping you.”

You threw your head in your hands. “That was one time!” Heat started to creep up your face as Gojo recounted all your embarrassing drinking moments.

“One time? Maybe the kidnapper thing, sure, but then there was the time that you broke down sobbing, and I mean big fat tears rolling down your face, at a deer just crossing the road. You tried to take it home with you.”

You groaned but there was humor in it. You’ve seen the videos of how you act around animals, and Gojo was never too far, oftentimes scooping you up to take you home since you could barely walk. He kept good care of you whenever you went out.

“Suddenly you think that every animal is the most beautiful creature in the world and you get sad that they don’t know that.” “It’s true. There’s only eight species that can identify themselves in the mirror.” “Of course you know that. Nerd.”

“Shut up,” you laugh. “I’m the nerd while you have an electrical engineering degree?”

“Would geek fit better? You’re the one who becomes a hyper vigilant Snow White when you get drunk, spewing animal and space facts just cause.”

“I’m not gonna stop drinking and I'm not apologizing. I give you valuable information whether you know it or not,” you shrug. Your next drink was brought to you, and you tried to drink it a little slower through the straw. It didn’t work, as you were suckling on it faster than expected as Gojo caught you up on his personal life. He always amazed you with all the projects he had going on simultaneously. It made your head spin, but you held deep respect for him. For the care free act he put on he was incredibly considerate of those who were younger than him, and always ready to challenge those above him if he thought they were out of line. You envied Satoru’s assertiveness, and when you finally got to your third drink, he asked you what was wrong once again.

“Just silly relationship stuff. I’ll get over myself soon enough,” you tried to wave him off. Your tolerance was nothing like it was during college, and your words were starting to slow and crash into each other. You nursed the drink close to your chest and Satoru sighed. He pulled it out of your hand, resting the glass on the table while you whined.

“Toruuuu, stop.”

“Tell me what’s really wrong. You get everybody to talk about their feelings and shit but you want people to overlook yours.”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” you mumbled. “I came out tonight to forget about the whole thing.”

On the floor Suguru and Jess swayed in each other’s arms, whispering in each other’s ear and giggling. He looked at her with such adoring eyes, something much deeper than the lust you first saw. Jess was a bubbly mess in his arms but she was enjoying herself. When his back was facing you she gave you an ecstatic look, mouthing a “thank you” that made you smirk.

You could never get Toji to dance with you. Said it wasn't his thing, and after a couple times of asking and being rejected you dropped the matter altogether. It didn’t make you want to dance any less, it hurts all the same. Gojo saw you looking at all the couples circling around and slid out of the booth. He offered you his hand, and you raised your brow suspiciously.

“What? You don’t like dancing anymore?”

Gojo wasn’t Toji, and you have never compared them in your mind ever before, but in that moment you had wished that Toji would be a little bit like him. You took Toru’s hand and he took you to the small dance floor, twirling you around to the song. You barely caught the lyrics, but it was a sweet melody about first love. You rested your cheek on Gojo’s chest and he carried the tempo of your dance.

“Thank you, Satoru,” you muttered, sure that he didn’t hear you. But he did, and he leaned back to look down at you with concerned eyes.

“I haven't done anything yet. What did your boyfriend do to you?”

Your bottom lip wavered to answer, ready to spill your troubled heart’s concerns when the slow song ended and an upbeat instrumental song started to play. Trumpets were introduced, charging the air with electricity and everybody on the floor started to dance more vigorously. Your face lit up, already forgetting what you were about to say and you twisted and spun around with Gojo, matching the beat, flowing to the rhythm, laughing just as happily as the music sounded. You only went back once to finish off your drink, and you danced until your feet were throbbing. Before Jess left the dancefloor she winked at you and told you that she would be leaving with Surguru, giving you a sly smile. Gojo offered to take you home, and drunkenly you agreed.

You sang badly to the radio on the drive back to your place, basically yelling songs into Satoru’s ear but he joined in with you, singing right back to you. He matched your energy until you were dissolving into a fit of giggles from singing lyrics entirely backwards. When reached your home Gojo held your heels and bag in his hands while you tiptoed across the stones to get to the front door.

“Bag please!”

“Still have manners even when you're drunk,” Gojo laughed. He held your purse open for you to rummage through. You were both looming over the purse and accidentally bumped heads. Gojo’s hand immediately went to rub your forehead instead of his own and you nervously giggled.

“Careful. You could’ve given me a concussion with that hard head of yours,” he teased.

“Oh fuck you,” you laughed. Your eyes were trapped by his until his lips became the prettier picture. Always pink and plush, you started to drift closer to his face until you finally got some sense.

“God Satoru, why did you have to come back now?” You tore your eyes away from his lips and shoved your face in his shoulder. Gojo wasn’t going to stop you from kissing him. He should have if he was a better man. However, he has always wanted to be with you, and you never gave him the chance, so he would’ve taken anything you gave him. Now that he has settled down, he would have been your boyfriend.

He spoke first to break the silence. “Do you have a headache?”

“No… I should get my keys now. I’m cold,” you mumbled.

You couldn’t find your keys in the bag, and you patted yourself down as if you had them in your pockets but you were wearing a very pocketless dress. He could already see the tears forming on your lash line and wanted to soothe you.

“What if they're at Jess’ place?” Satoru said to calm you down.

“Why would Jess steal my keys? I thought we were friends?” You were about to start crying. Just then, the front door opened, and Gojo was greeted by a face he never thought he’d see again.

“Fushiguro?”

“Toji!”

You jumped in Toji’s arms and he caught you with ease. He came to the front door because of all the noise he was hearing. Never would he had thought that it was Sataru fucking Gojo and his woman bickering outside.

“Toji I missed you so much. I sent pictures. Did you see them?”

“Yeah. I saw them. You’re gorgeous.” Each word came out with daggers thrown in Gojo's direction.

Toji’s grip on your waist got tighter as you peppered his face with kisses, his stare unbroken from Gojo’s. The first and last target that he wasn’t able to kill all those years ago came back to bite him in the ass. Of course you of all people knew who Gojo was. Gojo looked at the scene like he walked into an alternate universe. You were with Toji. Toji was with you. This was the man that had you moping at the club.

“Thank you, Sa–Satoru,” you hiccuped. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“You do the same. And let me know if you have any other relationship issues you want to talk about,” he smirked to Toji, and the other man scowled.

“I told you, it’s nothing,” you said in a sing-song voice. “I’m really sleepy now.”

“I bet you are,” Toji said in your ear. Toji gave Gojo one last look. There was no real emotion on his face anymore. Satoru was only able to thinly veil the annoyance in his voice when Toji dismissed him. “Let’s go to bed.”

Once inside you led Toji to the bathroom, stripping down naked and stepping straight into the shower. You beckoned him to join you, and he grabbed your shower cap that you forgot so you don’t get your hair wet. Toji took the washcloth from your hands, wanting to wash you himself. This was routine to him, something that made him feel calm. You had the faint smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke lingering on your skin, yet there was still your natural scent of you underneath. He kissed your shoulder, turning you back into the spray of the water, and you peered up at him. You brushed his hair out of his forehead to see him clearly.

“Did I mention how I missed you?” You giggled.

“I missed you too, doll.”

Toji lifted your chin up to look at him. His thumb rubbed the flat surface right below your lip and he kissed you softly once. It wasn’t even a whole day since you were gone and he had missed this feeling more than you could know. The touch of your lips was enough to get him hard, and it was starting to show.

“I’m never gonna drink again,” you groaned, dropping your head into his chest. “Thank god I don’t have work tomorrow.” “You’re really lucky,” he mumbled. “How do you… who was that guy?”

You took your washcloth out of his hand and grabbed his own. After lathering it with soap you started to scrub him down, admiring his body in the lowlight.“What guy?”

“That guy that brought you home,” Toji said through clenched teeth.

“Toru? He’s just a friend.”

You even had a nickname for him.

“Just friends? Since when?” Toji hated the way he sounded. It was needy, prying, totally unlike him. He shouldn’t give a damn, you were back in his arms, going to sleep in his bed. Why couldn’t he just let it go?

“Since uni. We weren’t in the same college but our friend groups overlapped.”

“That’s it?”

You slowed the way you washed him. The questions started to feel more loaded, and you were sobering up. Your eyebrows were drawn together when you answered.

“I mean, yeah? I never dated him, if that’s what you’re trying to get at.”

“I thought you went out with Jess.” Not a question this time, yet the air felt heavier. You were aware of how cold the water was when you usually like to take hot showers.

“I was with her. She wanted to go to this jazz club and we met up with friends. Jess left with a guy and Toru took me home.”

“Isn’t he such a great guy,” Toji said through clenched teeth. “So instead of calling me you climbed into some bastard’s car, drunk , at one in the morning.”

“He’s not just some guy, Toji. I’m sorry, I should’ve called you but I know him.”

“That’s what you think,” Toji scoffed.

You scoffed right back at him, now crossing your arms over your chest. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Toji was getting too emotional. He tried to grab the washcloth out of your hand but you stopped him. You both gave each other hard stares with anger seeping into both of your expressions. Toji already spoke too much, ready to let it go, but you were just getting started.

“You can’t just move past that. What’s the problem this time?”

Toji rolled his eyes. “You make it sound like I always have a problem.”

“I wouldn’t know, you never tell me anything,” you fired back.

“There’s no problem. We’re wasting water.”

You turned the faucet so the shower stopped then stood your ground. This was a side of you that Toji didn’t see often. The stubborn one, the immovable object against his usually unstoppable force. He would be on the sidelines when this happened, watching you deal with family members or other people outside with this unwavering spirit that wouldn’t back down, but now it was turned on him.

“There. Water’s not wasting. You want to get something off your chest? Say it.”

“I just didn’t think I’d have to tell you to call for me if you wanted to come home. I know your phone wasn’t broken because you sent me pictures. I expect you to tell me where you’re going and call me when you want to leave. I think that’s the least you can fucking do,” he said through gritted teeth.

You pinched your eyebrows together. “I was drunk Toji, and it was a quick decision that really doesn’t mean anything.” In the back of your head you knew that you sounded like a hypocrite. What he was asking wasn’t a hard request. In fact, it was the very same thing you had asked of Toji when you first started to date. Toji would just up and disappear for hours. Granted, you could always find him at his dojo or in his garage, but he never told you that. You didn’t want to know every little thing that he was doing but a general “I’m okay” would suffice. You knew this, yet you still couldn’t stop the malice crawling up your throat.

“The least you could do is call me by the right name but I guess we’re both having problems with simple tasks.”

Your words rang in the air for a long while. You wanted to regret them coming out of your mouth but you didn’t. It’s been eating you up since you heard her name. She must’ve been a gorgeous lady with a name like that. You couldn’t find any information on her, and it’s not like Toji kept pictures around, yet Toji’s late wife haunted you. Somebody that you have never met had permanent residence in your head. It made you sick.

You took things to hell and Toji didn’t push back. He didn’t know how else to comfort you, to convince you that he was in love with you, now, and always has been. Flashes of Toji going to see her grave earlier popped into his mind. Even though he was there, all he could think about was you. Toji thought he couldn’t explain himself that well, so he settled for something else.

“You’re not her and I don’t want you to be .”

Hot tears ran down your face before you even knew that they were there. Toji cupped your face and used his thumb to wipe away your tears. “I thought I could let go of this. I thought I would be mature enough about this whole situation but I’m not. I can see it in your eyes, Toji,” you sobbed. “It only happened one time but if another slip up like that happened I won’t be able to handle it. I think– I think I need a break.”

Toji froze. You held his wrists and pried them off of his face, putting them back to his side and wiped your nose with the back of your hands. The cold was starting to settle in his bone, a chill that he was familiar with but alway unprepared for. He waited for you to explain yourself and you sucked in a deep breath.

“We did this whole thing pretty fast, don’t you think? I mean– it’s just–”

“A break. You want to leave.”

You tried to clear up the confusion. “I want to have some time to think. That’s all. Stay at my place for a little while. I need to think everything through.”

“Think what through? So what, I’ve been keeping you hostage? Forcing you to be with me the whole time? Fine, go ahead.”

Blood was rushing in Toji’s ears; he could barely hear his own voice. He left you behind in the shower stumbling over your own words to calm him down. Take a break. What a stupid fucking concept. If you want to leave, just say that. Why would he hold hope for you to come back to him?

“Toji, wait. Listen to me!” You hastily wrapped a towel around your body, calling behind him but he was not stopping.

“You already said everything. Go pack your stuff already. I won’t be holding you back anymore.”

“I didn’t mean it like that–”

“What the hell could you have meant?” He growled. He regretted it the second you shrank away from him. It was never Toji’s intention to make you feel small. He sighed and rubbed his hand down his face.

“You don’t get to talk to me like that,” you whispered. The glassiness in your eyes was not lost to him. You stomped back into the bathroom, coming out with your toiletries in a basket and putting them on the floor. From the closet you brought out your suitcase you had bought the time you had flown to Malaysia with Toji. You started to open the dressers, throwing your clothes haphazardly inside. You put on your clothes to ditch the towel and grabbed everything that was yours on top of the dresser.

“Stop,” Toji said in a low voice. If you genuinely didn’t hear him or ignored him, he couldn’t tell. You continued to move like a whirlwind around the room.

“Stop. Just stop,” he repeated, grabbing your arm and you reeled away like he was a red hot iron rod.

“I just wanted you to be better, Toji. That’s all I ever wanted. You’re not the only one who’s dealt with loss, you know? There are steps you can take and you refused them all and I am tired . I love you but clearly that’s not enough anymore. If you love me, let me go.”

The white in your eyes and the tip of your nose was tinged red. The tiredness that you spoke of physically manifested itself, and Toji saw just how much of a toll it was taking on your body. He didn’t want to hurt you anymore.

“It’s not safe to leave right now. Wait until the morning. Please.”

The “please” was your undoing. Not only was he right, but you also didn’t have your keys. They were still at Jess’ place and getting a ride this early in the morning would be impossible. You gave him a curt nod.

“You sleep here. I’ll sleep in the living room.”

You didn’t say anything to him when he left the room. Toji sat on the couch plunged in darkness, listening to you shuffle around in the shared bedroom until the light went out. He sat there until the sun rose from the horizon and he didn’t remember when he actually fell asleep. He didn’t dream of anything. All he knew is that when he finally came to you were gone, your stuff cleared out as much as it could be with a note to throw everything else out.

~*~

Toji’s finger hovered over your name on his phone. He shouldn’t call you. He’s the one who pushed you away, told you to leave if that’s what you wanted to do. But after seeing you tonight for the first time in weeks, at the bar that you used to go to together, with with that white haired fucker you looked happy. You were as gorgeous as always, and Toji could almost taste the lip gloss that you were wearing, knew the exact shade it was as it left a mark on the glass you drank. You hung off Gojo’s body, hooking your arms with his, resting your head on his shoulder, giggling and holding his face the whole night. Toji was sure that neither of you saw him, and watching the both of you felt like he was intruding. Jealousy reared its nasty head on Toji, making his chest tight. He wondered how long you’ve known him for. You never brought Gojo up before, not once, but his past always had a funny way of sneaking up on him. Toji left before he did something reckless.

He couldn’t be mad at anyone other than himself. Now he sat in his car after spending hours driving around the city to clear his head, time slipping through his fingers. Toji’s phone dimmed, a sign of inactivity from his inability to make a decision. He hasn’t been able to reach you in weeks. Every call went to voicemail, but lately they’ve been ringing through with no answer. You must’ve blocked him, but he’s unblocked now, right? The worst that could happen is that you don’t pick up, again, or he could call and call like he’s been doing and you do pick up, but only to tell him to never speak to you again. It would be deserved, but at least he’ll get to hear your voice one last time.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, pressing the call button and waits. The first ring goes though, then the second, then the third. “Come on,” he urged. You always have your phone on you. He imagined you sitting down somewhere, just watching his call vibrate your phone. Finally, on the last ring the screen changed, the time starting to show that you had picked up.

“Hello?” It didn’t sound like you were in the middle of anything, but it was hard to tell. You could’ve been laid right up underneath Gojo for all Toji knows. You didn’t sound angry either. There was surprise in your voice, but nothing else.

“Hello? Toji, are you alright?”

He spent so much time analyzing your voice he forgot to actually respond. He cleared his voice before answering. “I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m fine. Tired.” You shifted, the sound of sheets settling around you and Toji tried to imagine where you were. Hopefully in your own bed with no one else in it. “Is– Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened. Megumi’s okay too,” he said before you could ask. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

It was a truthful admission, even if it stirred from jealousy. Nothing could be heard from your line besides your soft breathing. Toji’s finger impatiently tapped on the steering wheel. Usually when he says that he likes the sound of your voice you would turn your face away from him to hide the lopsided grin that would grow on your face. He wondered if you were fighting back the same reaction now.

“Oh,” is all you said. Oh . Oh well? Oh no? Oh what?

“I’m going to come over. Is that alright?”

“Right now?”

“Yes. Now.”

“Why?”

Toji already started to drive in your direction. He needed to have more than just your voice. He didn’t want to end things with you like this. He didn’t want it to end at all.

“What, are you busy or something? Got somebody over there?”

“No. I just wasn’t expecting a visit so soon. And I’m surprised that you even asked. Usually you just show up at my place like it's yours too,” you laughed. Music to his ears, that what your laugh was to him.

“I thought I would use those manners you’re always talking about. I’ll be there in twenty.”

You sighed heavily. “Bab– Toji. I don’t think this is a good–”

“I just want to talk.”

“Just talk?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Don’t flip this on me. I tried talking to you and that didn’t work. It never does. I’m not sure if I should even let you in.” There it was. The hardness in your voice that had finality like you were truly done with him.

“I’m not gonna force you to.” There was nothing left he could say that he thought would convince you. You hated being told what to do, so this was Toji’s last chance to give you the final say. If you told him no, he would turn his car around and lick his wounds later. Explaining to Megumi what happened between the two of you would be a pain in the ass, and getting used to you not being by his side would be hard to get over, but he could do it… at least he thought so. He would try his hardest to avoid that outcome.

“Fine. See you in twenty minutes. To talk ,” you acquiesced.

“Right. See you.”

He was one lucky son of a bitch.

Toji might’ve been speeding since he made it to your apartment in 10 minutes instead. It’s been months since he’s been in there, the last time being when he helped you pack up a few boxes to put in his house. When he climbed up to your floor and knocked on your door, you cracked the entrance open to look at him. You didn’t open the door all the way, instead using your body to block the rest of your space.

“Aren’t you going to let me in? You said that I could come,” he said.

You rubbed your forehead. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

You looked exactly how he imagined. A satin bonnet covering your head, a big, loose t-shirt from an old rock band, bare legs, and fuzzy socks. It was your nighttime uniform that he’s seen a thousand times before. He just wished it was his shirt instead. “Want anything to drink?”

You . “No,” Toji grunted, following into your space and closing the door.

Your apartment looked like you had never left. It’s like he didn’t even make a dent in your life like you did his. You walked over to the kitchen, pulling out some health drink you were obsessed with. He bought that exact flavor when he saw it at the store just to see if it had grown on him. It didn’t, but he drank it down. He stared at your fingers and hands, then your neck as the liquid moved through you. His favorite place to leave a mark on your skin was bare.

“Aren’t you gonna say something?” You questioned after licking your lips clean. Toji cleared his throat.

“I’m going to therapy now,” he announced with no preamble. Your eyebrows raised up in an instant. You had no idea what he was going to say, but it definitely wasn’t this.

“Th–that’s good. Really good, Toji. How is it going?”

“It’s not the condescending bullshit I thought it was going to be.”

You gave him a small smile. “So it's not that bad. I’m really proud of you. I could’ve recommended it till I was blue in the face but actually going and being consistent is where all the hard work lies.”

“It’s not that hard. Should’ve gone sooner.” Toji cuffed the back of his neck that was heating up from your praise. He couldn’t even look at your face, instead focusing on your fuzzy socks moving around. “I didn’t know how much I was bottling up.”

You reached for his hand to hold it. It was a simple gesture, something that you have done a million times before, yet Toji’s heart hammered in his chest like it wanted to jump out. “I’m glad you're having a great experience. I mean it. I also went back to therapy myself to work some things out internally.”

You tried to return your hand back to your side but Toji wrapped around your wrist, pulling you till you laid flush on his body and you used your other hand to prop yourself up on his chest. Your legs slotted between his and he trapped you there, holding you tighter.

“Toji,” you gasped. Your nose was full of him, you were so close you could count his lashes. He was too close, too soon, but you didn’t push him away.

“You’ve always been better when it comes to voicing your emotions. You’re perfect.”

“You are the only person in the world that thinks that,” you laughed. “I was a major hothead before we met.” Your giggles died out when Toji’s lips ghosted over yours. It made your lips twitch with how near he was with no contact.

“Toji… You came to just talk, remember?”

“Tell me how proud you of me are again, ” he stated unashamedly. You sucked a sharp breath in when his free hand slipped under your t-shirt, starting at the middle of your thigh, grazing up to your waist. Warm hands that could lull you to sleep now set your body ablaze. You should’ve told him to stop when his fingers went south, brushing past your pubic hair before dipping into your sex. You should’ve told him to stop when he used two fingers to stretch you out, hissing at how tight you because you haven't done it in a while. Hell, you should’ve told him no when he called you to come over because you knew how it would end up. Instead you locked lips with him, hiking your leg up to his waist so he had better access, giving him the praise he wanted to hear.

“I’m proud of you,” you whispered in his ear before licking the shell of it. You combed his nape and started to grind into his hand, using his palm to rub on your swollen clit while he curled around the spot that made you bend to him.

“You’re doing so well Toji, just like that.”

“Fuck,” he groaned. He wanted to taste you, he wanted to fuck you. You already had that glazed look in your eyes, about to reach your climax soon. Tonight you were extremely sensitive, shivering to every touch, gripping him like a vice. His fingers were drenched, and when he put his thumb over the silky mess covering your clit you tipped over the edge, your legs shaking so hard he held you up under your knee to keep you from falling over.

You only caught your breath for a moment before you went to his pants, fumbling over his belt and pulling him out of pants. Toji pressed you up against the nearest wall, giving you just enough time to throw your shirt off before he smashed his lips on yours. You cupped his face, afraid that he would pull away as he lined himself up with your entrance. Breathy moans filled the quiet apartment when he finally fit himself inside of you. Toji has missed this feeling of you around him more than he had thought. No amount of jerking off with a clothing article of yours that you left behind would have satisfied him. The sounds that you made, the soft gasps and mewling couldn’t be replicated. He fucked you up the wall, holding one of your legs up so he could snap into you over and over again, the toes of your second leg barely touching the floor anymore.

“Faster, faster,” you begged. You hugged around his neck tightly, and when you pulled away to look at him you were met with his pupils dilated. There was a rosy flush on his cheeks that was lovely to see. You were worried that if you saw Toji again he would not be interested in you anymore. It has never felt so good to be so wrong. You brushed his hair out of his eyes to look at him more clearly and traced his lips with your thumb. Pushing your thumb past his lips, you ran it over his bottom teeth and he held it gently with the top one. You pulled your thumb out, then used your index and middle finger to push down on his tongue, watching the pink muscle move around in his mouth. He did well without gagging, and for that you murmured a “good boy” to him. All the blood in Toji’s body went straight to his dick after hearing those words. If he went any harder he would’ve broken through the wall.

“Open your mouth,” you ordered. You really didn’t need to, as your fingers were still down his throat but you took them out slightly so he could widen his lips. You spat in his mouth and closed it immediately with a harsh kiss, your teeth bumping each other. You hugged him tightly once once, wrapping your arms around the top of his shoulders and tried your best to match his strokes in the position. Never have you been fucked on a vertical surface, and for a fleeting moment you felt bad for your next door neighbor. Toji’s teeth teasing the skin on your collarbone quickly made it a secondary thought.

“I’m gonna come,” you warned. “Come with me?”

Toji nodded, his nose bumping yours. The place where you were connected was a mess, your essence staining the front of his pants. The tinkle of his belt loop added a musical quality to the claps of your bodies meeting each other.

Just like you had hoped you came at the same time. Soft yet heavy pants replaced the other sounds crescendo you just made. You could feel Toji softening inside of you, and he slowly slid himself out of your cunt with a sigh that you second. There was no way for him or you to comfortably stay connected while standing up, fucking was already hard enough. You cupped your sex, catching the come that was starting to drip out of you when Toji brought damp paper towels to clean you up. You wanted to collapse on the floor at the end of it.

Toji carried you to your couch per your request. You admitted that you still had some of his clothes, and there were his sweats in your closet if he wanted to change his pants when he put you down. You laid on your stomach, stretching your legs as far out as you can, praying that you wouldn’t catch a cramp. When you gained some feeling in your legs that wasn’t static you took a peek at Toji when he walked back in. He was staring down at you, waiting for your reaction. He wasn’t a fool that would believe that sex would fix everything, but it wouldn’t hurt if it reconciled something between the two of you.

“I want to preface this by saying I do not regret what we did,” you started. You wanted to address the elephant in the room before it crushed you. Toji got down on one knee to be at your level when you spoke and you smiled. Unknowingly he was such a gentleman but he didn’t see himself that way.

“I don’t regret it either,” Toji agreed. If it was up to him he’d fuck you again and stay the night. He knew that would be asking for too much but a man can dream.

“Right… but I don’t think we should get back together. Not yet.” You nervously bit your lip. You dared a glance at him and his face was unreadable.

“We’re working on ourselves, trying to get better. I really do think we’re benefitting from the intimate time apart. I swear I’m not trying to be an asshole when I say this, but I think we should be friends first.”

Toji was silent for a few minutes. You were so worried that you poked his arm to get some kind of response. “I still get to see you?”

“Yes,” said slowly, as if you were afraid he would change his mind suddenly.

“And we can eat meals together?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Are you still going to drag me to see movies during the daytime?”

You scoffed. “It’s cheaper and has less people!”

Toji gave you a shy grin. It slowly melted off of his face, making you ask what’s wrong.

“You’re not in love with me anymore.”

You sat up from the couch, putting your hand over Toji’s that rested on the brown leather. It wasn’t a simple answer. The love you had for Toji could not be given to anybody else. You only had room for him in your heart. Trying to pretend that you didn’t, moving on before you were ready backfired, and Gojo got the worst of it. Not that Toji needed to know, but when Toru kissed you, you realized that you never had romantic feelings for him. All you could think about was what Toji was doing, but you were the one who left. It was unfair to Gojo.

“I still love you, and I do think we can make this work if we do it the right way. We are in fragile states right now, and if we mix a relationship in it we might blow up like we did before. What I'm saying is; let’s take this slow. There’s no rush, right?”

“You’re right.” You were asking for a fresh start and Toji could do that. You were trying so hard for him, and he was willing to do the same. He would earn you back eventually. However long it takes.

Thank you so so so much for reading!! Any interactions are appreciated!!

Part One

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brucewaynehater101 · 8 hours

Note

I had an AU, that at this point is more of a headcanon for me, that I thought you might enjoy because it's a nice mix of angst, Tim not thinking things are as bad as they very clearly are, and some fluff.

So it's pretty widely accepted that the Bats don't really know anything about Tim's days with Young Justice right? Like they might know one or two small facts, but they don't know that the gang blew up Mount Rushmore, any of the times the DEO tried to arrest them and drag them into Government Labs for experimentation, or that time they went to a Disco Themed Hell with Supergirl. They sure as hell don't know about any of the things that happened with Secret and Harm. Even though Tim would canonically be gone for days at a time (some of his adventures, mainly the one when they were gone for THE ENTIRE WINTER OLYMPICS) with no one noticing. One time they were in space and had enough time to not only go to Darksied's planet but spent WEEKS there and when they got back still not even Batman knows that Tim was even gone.

Anyways, all this to say. If Tim vanished for a month or two and just said he was spending time with Young Justice again while sending in case files and stuff to keep Bruce busy, I don't think anyone would notice. Nor would they notice if he suddenly switched from being Right Handed to being Left Handed and then after months of practice he goes back to being right handed. It's such a small change after all.

So here's the headcanon. On a Young Justice mission, something goes horribly wrong and Tim full on looses his hand. It's simply gone. The reason no one knows or notices is that he got a robotic replacement, a very realistic looking one like Roy Harper has, that he spent a few months learning how to work with and then went to physical therapy for it for years. It's just part of his life now and he thinks everyone knows, after all. How could they miss it? Jason has seen his palm open with a screw driver deep in his wires. Jason thought he was still tripping from fighting Scarecrow a few hours before. Not a single person outside of Cassie, Tim, Kon, Bart, Greta, Anita, Slobo, and Cissie knows that Tim is missing his right arm just below his elbow for almost 5 years.

That is until Tim has been up for 4 days straight and Dick says something about needing a hand with something and in a moment of sleep deprived brilliance, Tim takes off his hand, and throws it at Dick.

Yes! I love this AU/hc. There is a fic that kind of has this situation: "I told you about that... Didn't I?" by weewoow_070603. Jason is the one to find out, though.

I like the details you added in this AU that the fic (as far as I remember) didn't add: Tim being gone is a regular thing, the fear toxin with Jason, the months of physical therapy, etc.

I do think something as vital as this would happen to Tim, and he'd just forget to tell his family. At first, he tries to hide it. He doesn't want to deal with their fretting, the lectures, the scolding, and them getting involved. He has it handled, after all. After a while, he forgets that he should hide it and why he did in the first place. Then someone finds out, and he's confused why they don't know such a common place thing.

I'm also super glad you tied in all those YJ examples that you did. People tend to focus on the space baseball or Santa Clause (which I love those events too), so it was refreshing to see other events as examples.

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #dc au #young justice #young just us #thank you for the ask!!!!

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petitelepus · 3 days

Text

The Demon Gift: Choosing Hantengu, Part 6

Demon!Slave!Hantengu X Fem!Reader

Summary: You, Hantengu, and his clones are living your life as you should… Only, the past comes to take you back.

Warnings: Abusive Family, Threatening, Arranged Marriage

A/N: Demon Slave AU, Domesticated Demons, Reader Insert, Fem!Reader, Hantengu, Master/Slave, Karaku, Sekido, Urogi, Aizetsu, Urami

Tags: @hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha, @star-dust-wanderer

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

It was a beautiful day and not a cloud was in the sky, yet you chose to spend it inside with your beloved Demons, behind closed curtains so the sunlight wouldn't hurt them. You were chopping meat while the 5 Demons were in the living room, playing games when suddenly the doorbell chimed.

"Who could that be?" You wondered out loud as you put the knife down and wiped your hands on your apron as you approached and opened the door.

"Yes-?" Your breath got caught in your throat when you saw a tall man standing behind your door. You knew this man. The glasses, the suit, the gloves on his hands.

"Nicolas?" You gasped and the man nodded, "Good day, young Lady."

You flinched as you heard him and you immediately tried to slam the door shut, but the man put his foot between and forced the door open. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"How did you find me?" You wondered out loud and suddenly you felt four murderous auras coming from behind you. All the commotion had alerted your Demons who came to see what was happening.

"What the Hell is going on!?" Sekido shouted and Nicolas looked at your Demons over your shoulder.

"I see you have chosen to spend your money on other Demons. At least these ones appear more appealing than the one Master bought for you." Nicolas said and you frowned, "What the Hell do you want?"

"I have come to bring you back home." The man said and you blinked, stunned, "What?!"

"Master wants to have a word with you."

"Didn't you know that he kicked me out?" You asked back, "What makes you think I want to speak with him?"

"I couldn't care any less what a spoiled child like you wants. What Master wants, Master gets."

Ah, as always, Nicolas was a cold and calculative bastard who only cared about your stepfather's wants and needs. The butler stepped aside and showed you a limousine with the door wide open, "Hop in."

"I'm not-!" You were about to object, but the man gave you one of his famous chilling glares, "I wasn't asking, young Lady."

"…" You glared at him before you finally nodded and stepped outside, "My Demons-!"

"Your Demons stay behind."

"…Fine-!" You were saying when Karaku suddenly reached for you from behind and your eyes widened as you saw his hands burn as sunlight touched them. The Demon hissed as he grabbed you and pulled you back inside.

"Mistress isn't going anywhere with you!" The Demon hissed, but the butler didn't even blink, "My orders were to take young Lady back to Master. I won't let some uncivilized Demons who don't know their place stop me from carrying out my orders."

"Just a second Nicolas!" You said as you closed the door and the first thing you did was to grab Karaku's blistered hands, "Karaku, your hands…!"

"I'll live." The Demon grunted but he and his fellow clones were agitated.

"Mistress, you can't go with that man!" Urogi shouted, and you frowned, "I don't want to but I have to!"

"What if he hurts you!?" Sekido snapped and Aizetsu cried out, "We don't know what they might do to you when we aren't there to protect you!"

"Guys, you don't understand! Nicolas is an asshole and knows how to hurt Demons even without exposing them directly to sunlight! I won't let him hurt any of you!"

"But what about you and your safety?" Karaku asked and you bit your lower lip, "It can't be helped…"

"M- Mistress…?"

You all turned to look and saw Hantengu looking at you desperately from the couches. The clones shared a look, nodded, and looked at you, "We have a plan."

It took a couple of minutes, but finally, you stepped out of the house and made sure to shut the door behind you. Nicolas nodded as he held the limousine door for you and as soon as you were inside, he followed you.

As the door shut, the car took off and you kept glaring at Nicolas during the whole ride… with Hantengu hidden between in your shirt, between your breasts.

You thought back about the conversation you had with the 5 Demons.

"So, this is the plan. You will take the original one with you and he will be our eyes and ears." Sekido said and Aizetsu nodded, "And if things appear like they might go south, the original one will pop out and protect you."

"No offense guys, but how can Hantengu help me if something bad happens?" You asked as you pulled your shirt's collar down and Urogi dropped extremely nervous Hantengu inside

"Trust us." The clones nodded, "He can and he will protect you."

You weren't sure how sweet little Hantengu could protect you, but you trusted him and his clones. Enough to even take the little shy Demon with you.

"What, no small talk?" Nicolas broke the silence and you frowned, "Why would I want to talk with you?"

"Now now, young Lady. I may work for Master, but I did look after you through your whole childhood."

"You mean how you would teach me manners? Yeah, hitting me with a ruler certainly made me a better person." You hissed at him and you could feel Hantengu silently whimper inside your shirt.

Nicolas didn't even flinch as he took off his glasses and wiped them with a napkin, "I see you could have used a little more disciplining."

"Touch me and it will be the last thing you ever do..!"

The rest of the car ride was quiet, but inside your head alarms were going off. You couldn't understand why your stepfather wanted to see you after kicking you out months ago. Whatever he wanted, it wasn't going to be anything nice.

Finally, the car stopped and Nicolas stepped out to hold the door open for you. You followed him outside and into the mansion. As soon as you stepped inside, you could see the many Demon slaves turning to look at you.

You frowned, hating the fear you could see in their eyes as Nicolas passed them by. You were certain that he disciplined them also, only worse since they were just slaves to him and not honorable members family. The butler took you to your stepfather's office, knocking first before opening the door, "Master, I have retrieved young Lady."

"Good." Your stepfather who you hadn't seen for months nodded. The man was sitting on his huge chair and smoking a cigar as he looked at you and you blinked, stunned by the look he was giving you. He looked almost excited to see you, but your stepsiblings sitting next to him weren't.

"Well done Nicolas. You may leave now." The man said and the butler nodded as he left, closing the door behind him, but you stayed glued on your spot.

Well, until your stepfather motioned you to approach him, "Starfish! What are you doing all the way there? Come here, come here, my good child!"

You scowled as you walked over but you refused to take a seat. You weren't there because you wanted to be and you wouldn't lie to yourself.

"What the Hell do you want?" You asked but your stepfather didn't flinch. No, he blew out some cigar smoke and grinned, "Straight to the point? Alright, I was hoping we could do this quickly."

"Do what?"

"I have out of the goodness of my heart decided to take you back to the family."

"Back? Here?" You weren't believing what you were hearing. Cecil and Amanda, your stepsiblings scowled, "Trust us, we aren't that enthusiastic about this either."

"Quiet!" Your stepfather snapped at his kids and then he just smiled at you like nothing was wrong.

"What your brother and sister are saying is that they are sorry for what they did to your belongings." He glanced at them, "Aren't you?"

Cecil and Amanda looked like they wanted to be anywhere else but there. Reluctantly, they both nodded and their father smiled at you, "I have everything prepared for your return back home. Your stuff, money, and even your soon-to-be husband!"

"Whoa, whoa! Husband!? Marriage!?" You raised your hands up, stopping everything, "With who!?"

"I thought you might ask! A highly potential business partner of mine is looking for a wife and I thought that who could be better than my own daughter!" The man was all smiles but you weren't exactly happy.

"What, why can't Amanda do it!? Pimp her with him!" You snapped and your stepsister scowled at you, "I don't want to marry some old fart!"

"So I have to!?" You couldn't believe this. Your stepfather dragged you back only to match you with some business partner of his? You were pretty fucking sure that he was after some deal or better yet, money.

"I already suggested Amanda, but my partner wasn't interested in her." Your stepfather said and you crossed your arms, feeling completely and utterly disgusted.

"Why? Did she keep her legs open long enough to attract flies?" You asked and your stepsister glared at you, "Fuck you!"

"That's exactly why no one wants you." You shot right back at her before looking at her father, "So, let me get this straight? First, you kick me out and now, after months, you want me to come back and marry someone I don't even know!?"

"Starfish, I'm just looking out for your well-being! You're my child and I care-!"

"I'm not even your child, I never was or am now! I'm not even part of this family! Don't you remember!? You bought me out!"

The man's smile dropped and he sighed as he took what was left of his cigar and stumped it on an ashtray and suddenly it felt like the whole room's temperature had dropped. It felt dangerous.

"I had a feeling that this might happen." He nodded and looked at you so coldly, it turned you breathless.

"If you don't do as I say, I will have my men led by Nicolas, to go to your house and beat up that ugly piece of shit you call your slave and then drag it out and let the sun burn it until only ashes remain. Of course, that thing will be begging for death by the time Nicolas is done with it."

You were shocked by what you heard. This fucker was trying to blackmail you by threatening your sweet little Hantengu?! The Demon who never hurt anyone, he shouldn't be hurt because of you or your fucked up stepfamily!

"You cowardly bastard…!" You growled as you squeezed your hands into fists, wishing you could take a swing at the bastard, but you knew he wasn't afraid to give you a black eye in exchange.

You could feel how Hantengu was shivering hard in your shirt… Only unknownst to you, he wasn't shivering because of fear, but fury. How could this man who was supposed to be your father be so cruel to you, his sweet kind Mistress? The Demon couldn't control himself anymore.

"Now, be a good girl and-!" Your stepfather was saying but a growl cut through the air, "You ungrateful…!"

"What was that-?"

"You ungrateful humans!" Came a roar and you yelped as Hantengu jumped out of your shirt. You almost couldn't believe your eyes when the small Demon grew into a huge one, twice bigger than his original form, and instead of looking fearful, he appeared so furious it nearly startled you.

"H Hantengu!?" You gasped but the Demon either ignored you or was too furious to hear you. Cecil and Amanda screamed as the Demon grabbed the huge desk and easily threw it across the room. While your stepsiblings screamed and ran away from the room, your stepfather was frozen in his seat as he stared at Hantengu with his eyes wide in shock.

"You hideous humans! So cruel, so cruel to my Mistress! Mistress who is kind and caring, my sweet Mistress who is so good to me!" The Demon shouted angrily as he moved to grab your stepfather, but you couldn't let him hurt the man, even if he was an asshole.

Demons who hurt humans were ordered to be put down and would be hunted down like animals, and you didn't want that to happen to your sweet little Hantengu!

"Hantengu, no!" You cried out as you tried to stop him. You grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled, but he wouldn't budge. He seemed determined to get to your stepfather and you became desperate as you feared for Hantengu's safety and life.

So you put all your strength into your arms, wrapped them around the Demon, hugging him with all you had as you cried out, "Please! Listen to me Hantengu and calm down!"

The Demon flinched and finally, it looked like your actions and words got through to him and he regained some of his senses back. Slowly, you felt him relax and as he calmed down, he started to shrink. You kept hugging him until he was tiny enough to rest on the palms of your hands.

"M- Mistress…?" He whimpered as tears rose to his red eyes and you smiled as you kissed the bump on his head, "Thank you for protecting me Hantengu. Please rest now, since I am safe thanks to you."

The poor little Hantengu sobbed as he nodded, furiously trying to wipe his tears. You smiled a little and planted a gentle little peck on the top of his head before pulling your shirt's collar down and slipping him back inside, between the warmth and safety of your breasts.

"W- what-!" You looked up and saw your stepfather looking at you, shocked and scared witless, "What was that monster!?"

"I don't need to tell you anything," You snapped at him before noticing that the man had pissed his pants. Disgusting, but he absolutely deserved the humiliation. In a way, it was satisfying to see that bastard trembling so hard his teeth clattered together.

"We're done here. You can tell that business partner of yours to find a wife from somewhere else." You said as you glared at your pitiful stepfather coldly, "If you ever contact me again or threaten me or my Demons, I will destroy you…!"

With that said, you turned to leave and as you made it to the door, a bunch of Demon slaves rushed to the room, led by Nicolas and your stepsiblings coming behind at the back of the group.

"Master, are you alright!?" The usually stone-cold man asked as he passed you without a second glance and rushed to treat the asshole who pissed himself in fear.

You saw Demons looking wide-eyed, but you didn't miss how some seemed… Kinda glad and amused by the fact that their Master had been utterly and completely humiliated. You smiled, relishing the fact that they had something to gossip about when they would be resting and away from the prying ears of their tormentors'.

As you passed the door, you saw Cecil and Amanda staring at you like you were a human for the first time, and more than that, you were the first one who had ever stood against your awful parent.

"Take a picture while you are at it. It will last longer," You snapped and they frowned but made no attempt to stop you from leaving. You marched through the mansion and straight to the limousine still parked in front of the huge building. You knocked on the front window and it rolled down to reveal the driver.

"Hey, can you throw me back to my place?" You asked and the guy nodded and you thanked him as you stepped back and entered the limousine. As soon as the door closed, the car took off and you were on your way back home where your Demons were no doubt anxiously waiting.

But you did have some questions.

"Hantengu?" You asked as you pulled your shirt's collar and the small Demon yelped as he looked up at you, "Y- Yes Mistress…?"

"Thank you one more time for saving me." You smiled, and your curiosity got the better of you, "I didn't know you could change your size like that?"

"I- It requires energy…" The frail Demon started to tremble fearfully, "B- But that man was going to hurt my Mistress…! I- I couldn't stand it…!"

"Hey hey, breath Hantengu, breath," You said quickly before he could turn hysterical, "I'm not angry. No no, I'm thankful. You really saved me there, but…"

"B- But…?"

You wanted to tell him that a little warning would have been nice. You had no idea that cute little Hantengu could turn so furious and grow like that… But you knew he meant no harm to you and in the end, he cut that last link that connected you to that awful family of yours. Thanks to him, you were finally free.

"Nothing, I was just awed by how strong you can be when you want to be!" You changed the subject and Hantengu stared at you before he started to cry again, "Mistress is so good to me…!"

You smiled and the rest of the ride really went by with you spoiling Hantengu with sweet words and compliments. Finally, you were back home. You thanked the driver as you stepped out of the vehicle and you were about to enter your house when the front door slammed open and the 4 clones of Hantengu greeted you eagerly while avoiding sunlight.

"Mistress!"

"You're back!"

"Thank God…!"

"Are you okay!?"

"Whoa whoa!" You stepped inside, "One at a time!"

"What happened!?" Sekido asked and Aizetsu frowned, "We felt a strong pull in us… Did Urami appear?"

"Urami?" You wondered out loud and the clones nodded.

"He represents the original one's Resentment!" Urogi replied, and Karaku nodded, "He comes out when the original one is directly in danger or when his feelings take over."

"I think we met?" You wondered out loud as you picked Hantengu from inside your shirt and held him carefully in your hands, "That was Urami back there, wasn't it?"

The small Demon whimpered as he nodded. You hummed as you nodded, taking in and registering all this new info. You had a couple of questions, but before you could figure out what you wanted to say, Sekido scowled, "If Urami came out then something must have happened!"

"Yeah, something did happen." You nodded, "But Hantengu and he saved the day."

"Tell us all!" Karaku grinned and Urogi laughed, "We want to hear what happened!"

You grinned, "Okay, but you are never going to guess who pissed themself in fear!"

The Demons were already cackling and you chuckled as you promised yourself to enjoy your newly gained freedom to the fullest.

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yoonivy · 16 hours

Text

gold rush; part 3.

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre. romantic comedy — inspired by 10 things i hate about you and also another movie (can you guess which one? :) ) , college/university au, eventual smut, enemies to lovers (kinda??? their relationship is complicated to explain LOL)

In all the 8 years you’ve known Aemond Targaryen, he has not spoken more than 8 words to you. In total. So why is he starting now?

warnings. none.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07

–--

It’s weird. It’s strange. It’s suspicious.

The way that you’ve been humming love songs all morning, dreamily sighing every other second, and the layers and layers of almond butter you’ve already piled onto your toast… It's all so unlike you.

“Sansa…” Jon whispers from the corner of his mouth to his girlfriend sitting across the kitchen table from him, his gaze wearily on you. “I think we’ve lost her.”

Sansa rolls her eyes, petting Lady softly as the docile direwolf eats a piece of pancake off her palm. “She’s just in a good mood! ___ is always pretty much in a good mood!”

“Yeah… but never like that. ”

Now they’re both staring at you — giggling to yourself as if having a conversation in your head. Clearly on the Seven Heavens.

“Ooooh…” Sansa sucks in a hiss, trying to suppress her own giggles. “She’s got it bad.”

“Terribly bad,” Jon retorts, sharing a smile and laugh with Sansa.

Jon calls your name, and though it doesn’t completely pull you out of your daydreaming, you still manage to answer him with a very airy, “ Mmhmm?”

“How did the date go?” Sansa asks.

“Oh, you know…” You let out another soft sigh. “It was alright…”

“Really?” Jon grins with amusement. “Just alright? ”

His teasing tone has you finally snapping out of it, narrowing your gaze at him, “Yeah, just alright— oh…” when you notice the mountain of almond butter on your burnt toast, that’s when Sansa and Jon start howling with laughter. The face that you made must have been a sight to see.

You pout at them while stuffing the extra almond butter back in the jar. You really can’t afford to spread it so thickly. The jars are like $15 each!

“Come on! Tell us about it!” Sansa prompts as you stomp over to them with your plate and cup of homemade iced coffee, sliding into an empty chair.

You take a big mouth open inhale like you are about to tell them the full story with no minor detail missed – but what you blurt out is, “It was… you know, good.”

The all too cool one shoulder shrug you do was all your best friend needed for his mouth to drop in realization.

“You like him like him,” Jon accuses, not unkindly, just — shocked.

You grimace because it’s the truth. If you spilled your guts out about what you really wanted to say about the date, you would be talking forever. You would not be able to shut up about Aemond and how nice his lips felt on yours.

“Yes,” you hiss at him. “And that’s the problem!”

Sansa laughs, and asks in a clearly incredulous tone, “Why is that a problem?!”

“Because Sansa…” You groan, pressing your fingers on both sides of your temples, eyes wide at the table as if having an existential crisis. “It was only the first date — and I’m already like this!” You gesture at your almond butter covered burnt toast and terrible watered-down iced coffee.

You’re not opposed to having feelings for someone… but this quickly?!

Oh, absolutely not.

“Whoa…” Jon breathes out, still flabbergasted, deflating on his seat.

“I know…” you cry, sniffling that both Ghost and Lady pad over to comfort you, pressing their snout against you.

Sansa looks between you and her boyfriend, and then sighs in exasperation . “You two are so dramatic!” She then turns her attention solely on you, “I think it’s wonderful you like Aemond this much! It looks nice on you — you’re all glowy and cute and happy!”

You flush as your spirit lifts slightly, flattering your lashes at her and leaning into the palm of your hand, preening. “Wait, really? I look glowy and cute?”

“Yes, you do!” Sansa tells you with a little giggle. “That’s why I was thinking… You should invite Aemond to Bachelor night.”

Your eyes widen slightly at that, taken aback at the sudden suggestion. Meanwhile, Jon nods in agreement, “I think that’s a great idea!”

Skeptically, you look between them. “Really? You guys want to meet him?”

“Of course we do!” Sansa exclaims. “I think we all want to meet the guy who is making our best friend all happy and glowy and cute!”

Sansa reaches over to teasingly pinch your cheek after you scrunch up your face in embarrassment causing Jon to laugh.

The real question is though… Are you really at that point in your relationship with Aemond that you feel comfortable enough introducing him to all of your friends?

To everyone else, it might not be a super big deal. You recall Theon bringing girls who he barely even dated to hang out with your friends. Meera too. But still… To you it is important, your friends are that important to you. So it’s the same as introducing a partner to your parents. You can’t even think of a time you brought someone you dated to meet your friends.

Will Aemond be the first?

You mull over it for the rest of the day, and it distracts everything you do.

Somehow though, you are able to act like a professional and clear your head when you check up on Viserys. You go through his numbers and how he is feeling meticulously before sending off the information to Samwell.

“All good,” you let him know with a grin. “Sam said when you visit the hospital on Tuesday, they’ll look at your diet and hopefully they can figure out the cause of the bloating…” You frown in concern, once again asking Viserys a question you had already asked him twice this visit, “You’re sure it’s not bothering you, right?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Viserys waves it off again. When you narrow your gaze at him, skeptical, he repeats it. So you finally let it go, proceeding to pack up your equipment.

“So… How was your date with Aemond?”

You freeze mid zipping up the bag, robotically and slowly turning your head towards Viserys. Your mortified expression meets his sly one. “Wha— How’d you—?”

“His mother told me,” Viserys informs you.

“Oh,” you say, dumbfounded.

“I’ve also been told that he is… smitten with you,” he adds with a teasing tone.

“Oh, Seven Hells,” you mumble, your hand on your cheek to cool the heat that spreads there.

You’re embarrassed, of course, but also… Aemond talked to Alicent? About you?

You know Aemond has a pretty close relationship with his mom so does that mean he actually is smitten with you?

You must have had a dumb, giddy look on your face because Viserys comments, “So I take it the date was good?”

With a narrowed gaze, you don’t answer his question, only threatening mildly, “You better not say anything to my mom.”

Viserys just laughs heartily.

Three days after the date, Aemond finds himself waiting against the wall opposite of the room of your last class of the day.

His foot taps impatiently on the floor as he waits for the class to end. Maybe he is feeling a little bit apprehensive too.

Aemond thought the date had gone really well — better than well!

So why has it been like pulling teeth whenever he tries to make conversation with you through text?

It was easy to see that you weren’t your usual excited and emoji-filled self. Aemond would even say your messages lately have been drier than his.

Did he perhaps do something wrong? He has been replaying the date in his mind, combing through every interaction and conversation but couldn’t find anything he did that would warrant the change in your behavior towards him.

Aemond knows he is not the most socially aware person in the world, but he is not that daft to not be able to figure out if he did something awful. At least, he doesn’t think he is.

The classroom door opens before he can dwell on it again, and he straightens up to seek you out amongst the students that file out. When he finds you, he calls out your name without thinking. It has him holding his breath, watching and waiting for what your reaction will be when you see him.

Confusion sets on your face as you glance around, but when you meet his gaze, you perk up – all bright eyes and a cheerful smile. Awash with sudden relief, Aemond grins as he meets your bouncy steps towards him halfway.

“He—” Aemond cuts off your greeting with his mouth on yours, catching you completely off guard. But it doesn’t take long for your hand to cradle his face to draw him in closer. Aemond’s hum of satisfaction vibrates through you and you brush your nose tenderly against his, smiling into the kiss.

You can’t believe this is you now — or Aemond for that matter. You hadn’t thought you two would be one for PDA, but here you are, caught in an ardent kiss on full display in front of your peers.

You are only a little bit embarrassed when you part, throwing a goofy yet apologetic strained grin at anyone who passed by giving you either an unpleasant or amused look for your public display of affection in the middle of the hall with the Ice Prince of the campus.

When you turn your attention back to Aemond, he is still looking down at you, the soft expression on his face has you feeling warm all over.

There is a small smile on his lips when he asks, “Can I accompany you home?”

With loose intertwined fingers, you are leading Aemond to the bus stop on the west side of the campus. The bus isn’t arriving for another 10 minutes so you weren’t in a hurry, leisurely walking together in comfortable silence.

That is until you decide to bring up what was on your mind.

“So I heard about what you told your mom about me…”

Aemond freezes on the spot, halting the two of you from moving.

“My mother…?” Aemond swallows thickly, a guilty pit in his stomach so he doesn’t even hear the teasing in your tone. The last time he talked to his mother about you was a couple weeks ago… The day after the party.

“Yeah…” you grin at him, twisting around to face him but your hand still in his. You poke at his chest as you sing-song, “Heard you were gushing about our date… and that you like me.”

He heats, face flushing red and completely flustered.

It must have been Helaena that told his mother about how the date went. She’s the only one he told. And then his mother told his father and then he told you — it’s the only logical explanation.

Either way, it is a bit mortifying. But at least it wasn’t what he thought that you might have heard. That wouldn’t have been the worst case scenario.

“I didn’t gush . I don’t do that. You know I don’t,” he insists.

“Uh-huh,” you hum as if you don’t believe him. But just when he is about to defend himself and maybe even come clean with everything — on why his mother would want his father to know how well you and him are getting on — you ask him instead, “Are you free this Wednesday?”

This time, instead of one direwolf bombarding Aemond at the door, they’ve multiplied by three. At least none of them are threatening his life — not even Ghost — all just curiously sniffing the latest to arrive at yours and Jon’s apartment.

“Oh, Targaryen’s here!” The redhead man that opened the door exclaims at the sight of Aemond. With the most charming smile, he steps forward and throws his arm casually around the taller man. “I’m Robb! I’ve heard a lot about you!”

That has Aemond’s brows rising in surprise. What have you told your friends about him? He tries to keep it cool so instead of asking Robb to elaborate, he says instead, “Nice to meet you. You’re the one studying to be a public defendant, right?”

Robb grins and nods while also trying to stop all the direwolves from excitedly and happily tackling Aemond to the ground, especially the biggest of the bunch — a grey one with yellow eyes. “Grey Wind, down!”

“Down!” A woman with the same shade of red hair as the man in front of Aemond commands, and at the sound of her voice, all three wolves sit obediently. She pets all of them, giving extra love to one in particular — the one she murmurs a fond thank you Lady — before she smiles at Aemond. “Hi! I’m Sansa!”

She hugs him too. Are all your friends huggers?

Jon pops up next and even he wraps Aemond in an awkward hug, saying it’s nice to see him again.

Another man bounds to the front door with an extremely goofy grin and Aemond already knows who he is.

“Theon,” he says, trying to be suave and cool, offering his hand towards Aemond. “But you probably heard about me.”

“I have,” Aemond tells him, and leaves it at that. You said Theon is the one who annoys you the most but is also the one that makes you laugh the most, so he at least has that going for him.

But Theon’s eyes brighten, laughing as he pulls Aemond into a tight hug.

So they’re all huggers.

Theon sniffs Aemond noisily. “Dude, you smell really good. What is that? Dior? Tom Ford—“

“I go to the washroom for two seconds and you’re all out here trying to make sure that Aemond wouldn’t want to hang out with any of us ever again?”

At the sight of you over Theon’s shoulder — so breathtakingly gorgeous in a comfy oversized hoodie and tights — Aemond’s lips spread into a smile. You make your way towards him, sweeping a faux look of anger at your friends and the wolves that are wagging their tails.

Theon peels away from Aemond just as you step in between them, waving your hands back and forth to widen the space. “Like please give him room to breathe .”

“Hey, we were just trying to make sure to give your boyfie the warmest welcome!” Theon tells you with a teasing smirk.

Boyfie? That has Aemond furrowing his brows in confusion.

Wait… like…

Boyfriend?

Aemond feels a little lighter. The nervousness he was feeling all day before coming over suddenly vanishes, instead replaced with swelling pride and satisfaction.

Though neither of you have explicitly defined the relationship, the fact that you’ve told your friends that he is your boyfriend has him uncharacteristically hyped up. Like when Daeron gets the Valorant skins he wants in his game’s store and he blows up the Targaryen siblings’ group chat with a video of him yelling, “Let’s fuckin’ gooooooooooooooo!”

“Can you stop calling him that?!” You snap at Theon with a glare. Then you turn to Aemond, pouting. “I promise you he is calling you that all on his own. I told you he’s annoying!”

Both Aemond and Theon outwardly deflate at the same time for different reasons.

“You told him I’m annoying?!” Theon whines petulantly at the new fact. Meanwhile Aemond is a tiny bit (a lot) disappointed that you didn’t tell your friends that he is your boyfriend.

“Cause you are…” you say like it’s a matter of fact, but it is also clear in your cheery tone that you are fond of Theon too.

With your hand around Aemond’s wrist you pull him into your apartment while also shooing your friends away.

While you take his coat and scarf to hang inside the shoe closet, Aemond steps into an open space and notices two brunette women at the kitchen making some sort of alcoholic concoction in a huge pitcher.

The one that is wearing loose streetwear clothes wipes her hands on a towel before reaching over to present her hand to Aemond with a grin, “Hey, I’m Meera.”

The florist and the one who gives the best advice.

After shaking her hand he turns to the other woman — the one with the sly smirk that could rival his signature grin.

“Margaery?” He asks with a quizzical rise of his eyebrow. The three Tyrell brothers’ youngest sister. Aemond was a pretty close acquaintance of Willas before he graduated, they worked on a few projects together.

She hums, nodding with a cool shrug. “The one and only.”

Aemond feels a hand on his back, and he turns slightly to see you smiling up at him.

“Hey,” he murmurs with a warm smile as he faces you fully, his hands resting on your waist.

Your hands come up to touch his chest, feeling the lush cashmere of his sweater. “Hey.”

Then you are on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his lips. He hums in satisfaction, but you pull away just as he leans in for more. Aemond breathes out your name sternly, a demand for you to give him what he wants. Giggling, you give in to him, kissing him harder — but it’s short lived when the television turns on and you hear the opening monologue of the reality TV show you’ve been waiting for months to start again.

Aemond huffs in frustration when your lips leave his again, but this time you walk away with a teasing smirk and a cock of your head to follow.

The two of you grab drinks — the mixed alcoholic drink for you and a bottle of beer for him — before settling on the left side of the couch closely together.

“Have you watched the Bachelor before, Aemond?” Theon asks, squeezing himself in between the two couples on the couch. You just cuddle closer to Aemond, his arm around your shoulder to pull into his chest tighter; but Robb and Margaery try to kick Theon off. They are not successful.

“Uh, no…” Aemond answers. “…is it good?”

“Man, you’re in for a treat,” Robb exclaims jubilantly, but Aemond can not tell if he is being sarcastic or not.

You told him that he’s coming over to watch the season premiere of your friend groups’ favorite show, so he did not imagine it to be a trashy dating show.

“It’s actually really good, believe it or not,” Jon tells him as if reading his mind. “And apparently this is going to be their best season yet because the Bachelor is one of the Martells.”

“If it isn’t Oberyn, I’m gonna riot,” you say, popping a chip in your mouth. “I just want to see his pretty face on my TV again!”

Sansa shakes her head from where her and Jon settled on the floor with their direwolves. “No, I’m telling you it’s going to be Quentyn. They’ve been teasing that the Bachelor is one of the Martell’s for months and yet… nothing has leaked. If it was Oberyn, you know a picture would have surfaced the internet by now. They’re trying to make it seem like it’s him but it’s going to be Quentyn instead.”

“Honestly, I think Oberyn is done with reality TV shows after that last season he was on,” Meera adds. “That whole made up drama the producers tried to cause with his daughters and the paternity tests was all kinds of fucked up. I don’t blame him for not wanting to go back.”

As the discussion goes on, all is lost on Aemond. He knows some of the people mentioned (even met some of them) but he doesn’t really “Keep Up” with the Martells like most of the world does.

All Aemond really takes in is that you are really attracted to Oberyn Martell. He tries to find the similarities between himself and the older man and finds none, causing him to hum in displeasure and his hand on your hip grips tighter in possessiveness.

You don’t notice, too engrossed in the introductions happening on the screen.

Each woman that appears, you and your friends predict if they’ll make it far into the season.

“Who’s your favorite so far, Targaryen?” Theon asks.

“That’s bait, man. Don’t answer it,” Robb said, throwing a grin your way. “___ is a jealous one.”

“I’m not!” You snap at him with a hardened glare. Then you flatter your lashes at Aemond, sweetly cooing, “you can choose a favorite, I don’t mind!”

The show only focused on 13 out of the 26 women competing so far, and even though not all of them has been introduced, Aemond is already getting confused on who is who. So many of them look alike and sound the same.

“I don’t have a favorite,” Aemond answers earnestly. “And I doubt I’d have one.”

“Good answer,” Jon grins at him.

With a grin, you lean in to kiss his cheek. Good answer indeed.

“So the ones that got the minute long introduction… does that mean they’re the finalists?” Aemond whispers to you.

“Oh, you sweet summer child,” you murmur with a frown, patting his chest. He pouts and puts his hand over yours, holds it there against him while you explain, “Some of them do make it far, but it’s usually just the ones that will bring the most drama in the first few episodes. Like that Myranda girl for example, you can tell she’s just a shitstirrer. She’ll probably be gone after the third episode’s group date and…” you trail off, squinting at the screen and tilting your head.

“What is it?” Aemond questions, following your gaze to try to figure out why you seem so distracted all of the sudden.

“I think…” you start, still distracted, checking if your friends have reacted.

Only Robb seems to have seen what you did; he sits up straighter, eyes going wide. But before you can ask him; a handsome, chiseled jawed man with glorious brown hair walks into the living room area where all the women are mingling.

At the sight of him, the women on the show (and all your friends) squeal excitedly.

“Hello girls,” he murmurs in a sultry tone, oozing sex appeal.

“Hi Daario…!” You all call back, equally as flirty (or trying to be), Theon being the loudest and most shrill.

Aemond reads the title that appears at the bottom of the screen — Daario Naharis, Host .

“Welcome to The Bachelor! Thank you, Ladies, for joining us in this beautiful, sunshine paradise that we call Sunspear. This season is a very special season for us. It’s the 30th season and it’s with our most prolific Bachelor yet… So it should be no surprise that we chose the most beautiful, the smartest, and the loveliest women to compete this year…” The women giggle at that, and Daario just blinds them with his million dollar smile. “... And our handsome bachelor…. He is very excited to meet all of you…” He glances around, smirking, “Do you all want to meet him too?”

The contestants cheer, buzzing excitedly when Daario looks towards the door and announces, “Then please give a warm welcome to your bachelor…”

A few of the contestants’ talking heads get edited in, all of them hoping for Oberyn Martell.

So does that mean…?

“They wouldn’t bait us, would they?” Margaery glares at the television. “That would be crazy!”

“Totally unhinged,” Meera tacks on.

“If they want their ratings to tank, maybe,” Robb comments.

You wonder if you should bring up what you saw, but maybe it’s just your eyes playing tricks on you. It could be someone else that looks like her…

“Here he comes!” Theon teeters with giddy anticipation, sliding off the couch to just sit on the floor after Margaery kicked his butt one few many times.

On the screen, it flashes to different cuts of the man about to enter the room – focusing on his traditional Dornish suit, his coiffed brown hair, his narrow shoulders… And it’s over. You all deflate in disappointment. Without even seeing his face, you all knew it wasn’t Oberyn Martell…

It’s not even Quentyn, who is the second hottest man in the Martell family.

But it’s the youngest of them, Trystane Martell, whose only relevance outside of his family name is probably all the fake relationships his mother set up for him. Other than that, he was the most boring of the Martells.

It seems even the contestants weren’t too thrilled with their bachelor, their reception of him is lukewarm when he steps in the room and joins Daario.

“Aww… this is actually kinda sad,” You say with a pout, watching Trystane just standing there, looking beyond awkward with his tight-lipped smile. “He’s cute! But, just, y’know, kinda bland — that’s not a crime!”

“It literally is if your older sister is Arianne Martell,” Theon replies, your friends agreeing with him. “You know, they probably going to mention how he dated—“

“You are probably wondering why Trystane is here,” Daario segues. “When only a month ago, he was happily in a relationship with pop icon, Luvie—“

“There it is!” Theon triumphs, looking around gleefully. “What did I just say?!”

“She even wrote her hit song Nonsense about him —“

“Oh, yikes… they’re never beating the PR relationship allegations,” you murmur, not noticing Aemond’s discomfort beside you, too engrossed at the train wreck happening on the show.

“And I know you all heard the blind items. Luvie only dates guys with huge…” Daario smirks slyly.

“COCKS!” Meera, Theon, Robb, and Margaery all cry out just as Daario says coyly, “… Hearts.”

“I like our answer better,” Meera says with a shrug as your friends laugh.

“Damn, I was really hoping he’d say [BLEEP].”

In an instant, the room was dead silent, everyone staring wide-eyed at the television. Aemond glances around, confused. Why are all of you frozen in place after the woman whose 2 second confessional just played. Aemond didn’t recognize her. Although he is not interested in celebrities and social media stars, he just happens to know the most popular ones. Even the up-and-coming ones… he has been to a party where he met Ice Spice just this past summer.

So who — Aemond tries to recall the name that popped up for the brunette woman whose job was listed as college dropout — is this…

“ ARYA?!”

All your friends shout in varying degrees of volume, all in a spectrum of different kinds of surprise.

Sansa and Robb look towards each other.

“Did you know?!”

“No! Did you?!?”

With both of them shaking their heads, they turn to Jon, screeching at his face at the same time, “Did she tell you?!”

Jon is a bumbling mess, “I don’t think so— I mean, she might have mentioned it, but like, you know, in that Arya way of hers. So I don’t know—!”

Suddenly, cellphones around the room start chiming and vibrating. Jon, Sansa, and Robb check their phones, all occupied with replying with text they’ve gotten — it must be the Stark group chat. You got a text too, from the group chat with your parents, your mom asking if you knew Arya was on the Bachelor right now. You reply you are surprised as them before putting your phone down on the coffee table in front of you and then snuggle right up into Aemond again.

“Her hair!” Margaery awes at Arya who is still on the screen, charming Trystane with that cool Arya way of hers, and Meera nods excitedly with Margaery. The last time you saw Arya, her hair was long. Now it’s a cute pixie cut. “She looks so chic!”

“Badass and adorable,” Meera comments.

“College dropout,” Theon snorts laughing, slapping his knee to show how tickled he is. “Classic Arya!”

“I thought I saw her!” you exclaim with a grin, meeting Aemond’s lost look. “That’s Robb and Sansa’s younger sister!”

“Really?” Aemond questions in a way that says he is having a hard time believing it. “She looks a lot more like…”

Everyone stops to watch where his gaze drifts, all laughing when it lands — except the embarrassed one whose Aemond’s eyes are on and the woman pressed by his side.

“That’s because Jon’s our cousin!” Robb provides.

Aemond looks shocked. “But… doesn’t that mean…”

He tries not to gawk at Jon and Sansa, but he can’t help it. All their friends — including you — are so nonchalant about their relationship so it’s surprising. He watches as Sansa blushes furiously and leans over the arm of the chair she is sharing with Jon to slap her brother’s arm, who is still howling with laughter.

Aemond meets Jon’s eyes and the latter looks like he is going to die, causing Aemond to blurt out, “I’m not judging, my family is no stranger to relationships like yours.”

He sounds so blunt that it makes everyone laugh more. When prompted by Meera about what he means, Aemond gives a brief history of the Targaryen bloodline. By the end of it, both Jon and Sansa look a bit more relieved — especially when he tells them about how his uncle creeped on his older half sister when she was barely legal.

“At least neither of you are like him,” Aemond says with a nonchalant shrug.

“So are they together?”

“No, she’s with this guy named Harwin. Complete opposite of my uncle.”

“And your uncle?”

“He’s, well… uh… with my cousin… who is younger than my half-sister.”

The whole room draws out an ‘ Oh… ’, both weirded out and fascinated.

You’ve met Rhaenyra before a few times, and his uncle Daemon maybe once or twice, but you hadn’t known the history between. Maybe that’s why Viserys has such a strained relationship with his brother.

Finally, the drama on the screen becomes interesting again — particularly because Trystane has asked for a bit of a one-on-one time with Arya in the gardens— so everyone’s attention is on that. While your friends argue whether they think Arya is going to get a rose that night or not, you murmur to Aemond, “Give me a thorough Targaryen history before I meet your family, okay? I don’t wanna… accidentally say the wrong thing. Offend someone, you know?”

He notices you said when , not if , and that has his heart feeling light for some reason.

“Yeah,” he murmurs with a small smile. “Of course.”

The two of you share a soft gaze, only to tear your eyes off each other when—

“What the fuck does that mean?! So you don’t think Arya is pretty enough to get a rose?!”

“Dude, that’s not what I meant!”

“Do tell me, Theon, what did you mean?” It’s Sansa now who is pissed, you hadn’t heard what Theon said but it clearly offended the Stark siblings.

“I just — I don’t think she’s going to get the first rose! That’s all!”

“And why don’t you think she’s going to get a first rose?”

“Now you’re just trying to stir shit, Margaery!”

“You stirred it first!”

“Meera! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I’m tired of being on the losing side…”

“DUDE! I DON’T ALWAYS— Okay, fine! But this time, I’m gonna win! My bets on Shae to get the first rose! $10!”

“You’re on, Greyjoy!”

You laugh at your friends' usual antics. And taking a sneaky peek at Aemond, you witness him chuckling too. It makes your heart do a happy little squeeze.

Turns out, Arya does get the first rose of the night. Which means in the next episode, she gets a one-on-one date with Trystane while the other girls have to compete for his attention in a group date.

Theon was teary eyed when he lost $70, giving ten to everyone in the room — even Aemond thought Arya was going to win.

Another argument broke out when Theon sniffed and muttered, “I don’t understand why Shae didn’t get the first rose…”

“So you don’t think Arya deserved it?” Aemond asks with a teasing smirk.

“Aemond, bro… not you too! I just would have picked Shae instead of her, personally!”

“Are you too good for Arya or something?”

“____ NO! THAT’S NOT —“

Aemond feels comfortable now with making his own quips, your friends really made him feel like he is a part of your group. Him and Jon even had a thought provoking conversation together at the kitchen table while grabbing more beer — they found out they enjoy the same podcast. Aemond likes them, your friends. He hopes they like him too because that would mean more time to spend with you.

Aemond does not even realize when it happens, but after that premiere episode and three movies later, everyone save the two of you have fallen asleep. He must have been so preoccupied laughing closely and making little jokes with you that even Theon’s loud snoring did not tear his attention away from you or your clever little commentaries on whatever movie was playing.

Noticing as well, you turn down the volume until it’s almost on mute. You then get up quietly, mouthing to Aemond that you’ll be right back before carefully tiptoeing around where Theon is sprawled on the floor to head to your room.

Aemond starts to clean up while you’re gone, clearing the coffee table of empty cups and bowls of various snacks. He hears you emerge from your room just as he ties up the small garbage bag that he had filled full, and sees you carrying a heavy bundle in your arms of what seems to be blankets.

Heading over to where Jon and Sansa are cuddling together on the velvet green armchair, you shake Jon’s shoulder until he blinks sleepily up at you.

“Go to bed,” you murmur to him, pointing out the awkward position Sansa is laying on him. “Her neck is going to hurt tomorrow if you guys sleep here.”

Groggily, Jon nods slow, heeding your advice and takes himself and Sansa to his room. With the armchair now empty, you drop the blankets in your arms there before taking one to drape over Robb and Margaery.

Next, you go over to Meera at the other armchair, reclining it so it’s more of a bed for her. Then you bend down to peel off Theon’s socks, looking grossed out while doing it — but you get the job done knowing that your friend gets nightmares if he has them on. After, you throw the last two blankets on Meera and the other on Theon.

The whole time, Aemond watches with fondness in his eye. It’s clear to see how much you care about your friends, your sweetness and love for them affecting the beating in his chest.

Perhaps he has always known this about you. Growing up, you’d always find little ways to help brighten up other people’s day. Like helping out Helaena collect bugs in the backyard even though you were terrified of them. Or how you spent a lot of your time listening to Daeron’s storytelling, even though the youngest Targaryen was just rambling gibberish that made no sense most of the time at that age. Not to mention, you shared everything with his siblings. You’d come to his father’s place with things you had made — desserts, beaded bracelets, and anything else you had fancied to be creative with that week. Helaena and Daeron were always so ecstatic when you did, even Aegon sometimes too. Now Aemond wishes he hadn’t turned away all your attempts to befriend him.

He doesn’t even know why he had been so cold to you… Jealousy, maybe? His father treated you like you were his own child when you were just some caretaker’s kid. Meanwhile, Aemond’s time apart from his father due to the divorce had their relationship feeling like they are just strangers. Him and his siblings would stay at his father’s place every summer and holiday break but instead of it feeling like a vacation, he would dread it. Then he would always see you making his father laugh like the clown you were but he can’t even have a proper conversation with him out of resentment. It also didn’t help that his mother would talk down about you and your mother, and her husband — well, boyfriend at the time, Criston — would always imply that your mother was having an affair with his father, so that didn’t help at all at how Aemond saw you and your family.

His previous prejudice about your status, wealth, and home life makes his stomach turn now. Gods, he was such an —-

“Ae?”

Pretty, wide and concerned-filled eyes blinking up at him pull him out of his thoughts. “Are you okay? Was tonight too overwhelming for you?”

He shakes his head, grinning down in an attempt to ease your worry. “I’m alright. I was just spacing out.”

Frowning, you remain unconvinced, so he lifts a hand to caress your cheek, a tender grin on his lips as he tells you, “I had a wonderful night. Your friends are great. I like them a lot.”

A warmth of happiness spreads through you.

“Good,” you say. “But the night is not over yet…”

When he lifts a brow in question, you just answer with a giggle as you take his hand in yours.

The city lights are shining bright when the two of you step foot onto the roof of the apartment complex. It is a bit chilly as well but with your hand in his, Aemond doesn’t feel it all that much.

Aemond looks around, impressed. The rooftop must be a hangout spot for the residents of the building; furnished with seats, a table, and decorated with fairy lights. Cozy and definitely where a group of friends like yours would hang out, as if straight out of a sitcom. He feels like he has been let in on a little secret, that you are allowing him to be a part of your world. Something about that thrills him, but also makes him nervous…

You lead him to a wooden bench, both settling down.

Taking the wool blanket you brought, you laugh with Aemond as he helps you cozily drape it around your backs.

“Thank you,” he murmurs quietly when you hand him one of the little cups of hot chocolate that you poured from the tumbler you prepared before heading up. Sipping the rich and warm drink while enjoying each other's company, Aemond loosely wraps his free arm around your waist to pull you into him. You snuggle up to him closer to overlook traffic on the streets below and the sparse stars above together.

Aemond is not familiar with this part of the city so you point out places that you enjoy — the farmers market that also include stalls for artists, the small family owned grocery where the lovely grandma always gives you fruits for free because she thinks you have a pretty smile, the cafe down the street with the best soy latte you’ve ever had, and the community center with the outdoor pool you like to go to during the summer.

A memory pops up in his head, making him pull a face. It was only for a fraction of a second but you still catch it.

“What was that face?!” You ask with a laugh. “I know it’s a public pool but it’s not gross, I promise!”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s not that! I just remembered the time when I… I pushed you into the pool.”

Your head tips to the side, and instead of just apologizing and moving on, Aemond quickly retells, “it was at the start of one summer and we hadn’t tried out the pool yet. Aegon wanted one of us to check if it was too cold, but neither of us wanted to… then he gave me a signal to just… push you in, so I…” he takes a hard swallow, “...So I did — it was freezing and you ended up sick for a week… I never apologized— I don’t know, pride, maybe? Though stupidity is more likely… so I guess I should apologize now…”

“Damn…” you say, brows drawn together and staring up at the stars. “I forgot about that…” then you flash him your fiercest glare, “NOW I’M MAD ALL OVER AGAIN!”

He shrinks up, “I’m sorry, I was dumb and young and—“

You break, laughing to let him know you weren’t serious. “I’m joking, Aemond!”

“Still…”

Placing your chin on his shoulder, you try to give him an adorable toothy grin, but he just pouts, feeling like shit about how he had treated you. To comfort himself somewhat, he nuzzles his nose against your temple, placing a light kiss between your brows before you both turn and watch the cars below, your head laying on his shoulder.

Silence falls between you for a while. After a few peaceful minutes, you decide to break it with a confession of your own, softly murmuring, “You know… I remember wishing so desperately every time that you visit that you’d finally want to be my friend…”

He frowns at that.

“I was an asshole…”

“You were just a kid,” you shrug, “I don’t hold it against you.”

There’s a tired yet tender smile on your pretty lips aimed at him that has Aemond’s heart aching.

“Hey,” you bump your shoulder against his playfully, “At least I finally got my wish now…” your eyes are big and hopeful as you ask, “We’re friends, right?”

With a smile on his face, Aemond answers, “Yes,” he takes your hand as he leans his face close to yours, “But I hope we’re also more…”

Flushing, you nod a bit before closing the space between the two of you. Aemond kisses you slowly, the feeling of his smile against your mouth has you sighing in both relief and adoration. His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, deepening in the kiss as his tongue gains permission in your mouth.

It is passionate, a bit dizzying, and when Aemond pulls away, there’s something in the way he looks at you… It has you pin to the spot, unable to think or breathe.

Little did you know, Aemond is having the opposite problem. He has a million thoughts in his head, all of you. He is actually falling for you and he knows it. So why does he have two resounding words in his head when he realizes that?

Oh no…

a.t. 💗 🎵 skylight - gabrielle aplin

---

author's note. aemond went home and listened to labyrinth by taylor swift on repeat, yup :)

thank you for reading, let me know what you think!

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd imagine #hotd smut #aemond targaryen #hotd

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atinylittlepain · 17 hours

Text

Prologue

jackson!joel miller x witch!oc

series masterlist

series playlist

He thinks he might fall in love with her. She can't let him fall in love with her. Or: a reimagined take on an infamous Practical Magic au by yours truly.

wordcount | 1.8K

series content info | 18+ slowburn-ish, strangers to friends to lovers to estranged acquaintances to ???, discussions of death and grief, a little magic, just a little, jackson era joel and all that entails, eventual smut, angst obviously, and love that requires a little elbow grease.

a/n | thank you folks for your patience while I was being a little worm about this. Very excited to kick off this series, and I'd love to hear what you think <3

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There is the after, and there is the before. This is the before. In the before, there is a town nestled down in the purple-blue belly of a mountain, all shade and damp, cool green. A small town, everyone knowing everyone and everyone knew everyone as far back as history could reasonably stretch. And in this town sits a house at the end of a string of houses, sidewalk curling up in waves under the old force of tree roots, wrought iron gates and sleepy porches. Kids dare one another to step through the gate of this house. Only the bravest make it up to the porch, a quick clambering tap to the front door, wanting, but not really wanting, to see who might answer. All but one child, that is. She has no problem walking through the gate, but she’s learned to be quick in getting through the front door and slipping it shut behind her. The other kids like to throw rocks if she lingers, so she doesn’t. But there is always a sweet suspension of disbelief on the walk, before the gate, and the porch, and the slip through the front door. How nice, to have all her classmates walking her home after school.

“Did you get into any trouble today?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Well, always another chance tomorrow.” It’s just enough to coax a smile out of her, her aunt and all her tuts and tsks, turns of her nose and we need a brownie before we do your homework, little choice but to follow after her into the kitchen, warm and sticky, the smell of fresh yeast and something richer. Even now, even in the first gasps of Summer, a pot always boils on the stove, spoon stirring lazy inside it.

Her aunt moves like a bird she thinks. But not the delicate kind. She saw a blue heron once, at the lake outside of town. Like that, she thinks. Graceful but sharp, big and sweeping, the tails of a linen shirt, and the braid woven gray and black that hangs between her shoulder blades. All so familiar, she can’t help but sigh, cheek propped in the clammy cup of her hand.

“Something happened today.”

“You don’t say.” Her aunt, always knowing before she can tell her, sometimes even before she knows herself. She picks a chocolate chip out of the brownie split between them, holds it on her tongue and lets it melt.

“Andy Nichols broke his arm. He said there’s pins in his bones.”

“Is he the one who–” She nods before her aunt can finish her question. Yes, the one who never threw rocks at her. Yes, the one who would sit with her at lunch, not because his other friends dared him to, but because he wanted to. The one who, last week, sitting on the bleachers during recess, pressed a quick, there and gone kiss to her lips, all shy, all sweet, wings fluttering fierce in her chest. Yes, that one.

“Now he won’t even look at me. All his friends are saying I did something to him.”

“Oh, Maggie, I’m sorry. People can be, well, people suck, to speak plainly.”

“Did I?”

“Did you what?”

“Did I?” And the silence is enough of an answer, isn’t it? Her aunt’s eyes melt a little, lips pressed in a thin frown. Her aunt, who is as tired as she is, though she may do a better job of hiding it. After all, while she lost a mother, her aunt lost a sister. And the thing, that thing, this thing, that is threaded like a dark cancer through the sinew and snapping pulse of their hearts, contagious, careful or you’ll catch it. Everyone in town knows not to fall in love with a Campbell woman, a long history pocked with strange deaths, unexplainable misfortune. Her father wasn’t from town though, the first mistake of many.

‘It’s best if you don’t think on it, hmm?” Quiet and close in the kitchen, she does her best not to cry, feeling weak, a little wilted. One of those hugs that presses all the air out of her lungs, she needed it, breathing in deep, soap and sweat and soil and my little witch, we have work to do.

Homework doesn’t really mean homework in their house. Not the paper she’s supposed to be writing on the civil war, not studying for the math test she has on Friday. Homework means her and her aunt in the greenhouse, and her aunt quizzing her on the plants they tend to. What is what, what does what.

Lemon balm for stress and sleep. Also used to treat cold sores.

Echinacea for immunity.

Peppermint for nausea and headaches.

Belladonna for sleep, handle with care.

It comes easily to her, the same way that knowing things comes easily to her aunt. Plants, she thinks, make more sense than people do. It takes them a few hours to work through the greenhouse, night coming on in a swath of orange that smolders purple, cool shadows filtering in through green glass. They prune, they water, they propagate, and her aunt must think her extra pitiful tonight because she offers to teach her a few new tricks. The offer falls flat, however, when the prickled sound of scratching shivers up her spine. She knows it well, imagines that she could hear it from all the way across town at this point. The back door, nails skittering over its window panes, face pressed to glass, smeared shame, or maybe just a secret. All that’s needed, a look shared between them, no words. She stays in the greenhouse, closes the door behind her aunt, but leaves it cracked. She shouldn’t, but she likes to listen.

What she hears is always the same. Variations of desperation, I want, I want, I want, I need, I need, I need, him, him, him, her, her, her. How badly? So badly. Anything? Yes, anything. She’s watched a few times, peering around the doorway into the kitchen. All kinds of ways to meddle, to tangle threads, cut them loose, pick your poison, pick your pleasure. Her aunt tries to keep her away from it, the dark, crawling things, the needles, the wax dolls washed in smoke plumes. But she knows. Love is an ugly thing.

She doesn’t watch tonight, hardly listens either. Something else on her mind, in her hands. She plucks rose petals, lavender, rosemary, fills her hands with the rumpled things, says what she planned to say.

He’ll ride horses, talk to them too.

He’ll work with his hands.

There’ll be a streak of silver at his temple.

When we’re together, he’ll be able to stop time.

“Are you casting impossible spells again?” Her aunt catches her just as she’s stepping out into the backyard, damp grass and cicada thrum and the moon.

“I hope so. I hope it’s impossible.” They stand in the cool, damp grass, all that heat dropping down into a low mist around their ankles. And her aunt knows exactly what she’s doing. Afterall, she was the one who taught her this. Somewhere between a love spell and a prayer, though she hopes hers is more like a curse.

“There’s no taking something like this back, Maggie. Are you sure you want to do this?” She nods, says yes, and it’s enough for her aunt to stand down, giving her space to finish the rest of it. Intention, energy, that other word that people like to throw around She focuses on the words and the words become something other than words, and the petals and leaves lift from her hands. The moon takes care of the rest.

“I hope I never fall in love.”

The thing about spells is they always find somewhere to land, even the impossible ones. And somewhere in the before, that impossible spell found its target. Cupid’s arrow bent and broken, though still able to sting sharp. Somewhere in the before, a boy in another town in another life, young knees working hard to make the thin tires of a bike spin, already late heading home for dinner in the cooling night.

The boy’s mother hears him before she sees him, big, hot tears and ribs shaking with sobs she doesn’t often get to hear anymore, getting older, trying to get braver. The boy is bleeding, the boy is crying. The soft round of his palms scraped and stuck with gravel, and his knees no better, all down his shins, and he didn’t mean to cry, didn’t want to cry, but walking the rest of the way home, wrestling with the crooked handlebars of his bike, the feeling and the pain got too big, and he didn’t know what else to do with it.

“Oh honey, what happened?” His words come out in stops and starts, little stuttered gasps. I fell, gets strung into a few extra syllables, already ushering him upstairs and into the bathroom, the sharp smell of this’ll sting, cotton gauze getting stuck in the blood.

In the before, still young, the boy is a soft thing. He cries easily, and he doesn’t like that. Cries when he’s angry, when he’s hurt, when he’s frustrated. Cries harder when he cries because he wishes he wouldn’t cry, even if the words for such a feeling are still too old for him. Somewhere along the way, the boy will lose that. The boy will lose so much. But for now, his mother is making all the big and little hurts better, box fan humming in the cracked window in the bathroom, his brother, even younger, watching through the slivered opening of the door.

For now, the boy lets his eyes close, sticky with salt and the last wandering tears, and he wonders if he really saw what he thought he saw, what stunned him so snappingly that he flew head over handlebars onto the still-simmering asphalt. A blurred vision, blink and miss it, though even so, he’s still sure of what he saw. A rose bush, a sudden burst and bloom and flashbang, nothing and then something and then everything. Blooms that unfurled their skirts as fast as he was riding by, until what had been only green was blotted out entirely by heavy white petals. The boy will lose this memory with time, reasoning it away as an impossible imagining, something from a young mind that will no longer be his. But while the boy is still young, still a soft thing, he will think to himself with a kind of secret wonder that whatever he saw that night, it had to be magic.

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taglist: @suzmagine @joelsgreys @vee-bees-blog @noisynightmarepoetry @kungfucapslock @iloveenya @evolnoomym @wannab-urs

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller au #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #apothecary gv

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lokisprettygirl · 2 days

Text

Rain to his Fire (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon 80s Au) (18+)

Read chapter 2 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 3

Summary: You found yourself caught up in the mystery surrounding the patient in room 393.

Warning: 18+, discussion of mental health (it's a fic based in a mental health facility), mention of physical assault, the fic would contain several mentions of several disorders like mpd, did etc, if something triggers you don't read, smoking.

Note : Daemon has the same length of hair in this fic

You couldn't really tell what you were feeling. You felt angry but then you denied to yourself that you felt angry because why would you be angry? He wasn't your boyfriend and he was allowed to kiss and fuck whoever he wanted. But then he wasn't allowed to do those things because he was a patient and that was against the rules, yes that's why you were angry. You were angry because he broke the rules. That's all.

“Ummm how did she get caught..what happened?” You asked Mona, prying for the details of the encounter between Daemon and Shyla so she rolled her eyes,

“You know how she gets, Dr. Vis caught her in his room giving him a handjob or something” your face contorted into disgust as you heard that.

Did you really believe you were the only woman around here he was sweet talking to? Nuhuh, not with that face.

“So she's fired for real? They're not going to let her off the hook with a warning?” You asked her so she crossed her arms in response, firing her seemed unnecessary especially when there was a shortage of staff and you didn't think the act between them was non consensual, Shyla was a free spirited woman and Daemon definitely seemed the type to sleep his way around town.

“I don't know, she's in his office right now and he'll decide her fate but we all know how strict he is”

You nodded as she said that before you grabbed your cart to resume your duty for the day. You didn't want to think about it, it was none of your business. You started from room 390 and made way to 393, all while maintaining a calm and composed demeanor, masking any underlying feelings that you may have had about the situation, you knew you had to stay calm and pretend as if this thing between Daemon and Shyla hadn't affected you in the slightest which it hadn't.

As you stepped inside his room with your cart dragging in front of you, from your peripheral vision you could see that he was sprawled out on the bed, of course he didn't have clothes on. He was stretched out comfortably, with his hands resting under his head, exposing his bare chest and other things to the view of anyone who entered the room.

“Put your clothes on or I'd have to report you” you mumbled sternly as you looked around the room, it was unfathomably dirty, it hadn't been cleaned in a week because you weren't allowed to do so during his isolation. You couldn't help but wonder if this stunt he had pulled will finally lend him to the lone ward..

“Report me, see if I care” you heard his smug voice and your jaw clenched but you didn't want to feed into his attitude. You knew that if you were to succumb to the temptation of getting dragged into a verbal spat, it would only lead to further revelation of the annoyance you felt regarding this situation.

Daemon was not oblivious to the fact that you were feeling irritated, you must have heard about him and the woman he didn't even know the name of. He saw that your mood had shifted, and he reveled in the feeling of having the power to affect you emotionally because he was affected by you as well. But then he also didn't want to make you uncomfortable so he got up and pulled his pants on,

As he got up, you approached the bed and went through the routine process of pulling back the sheets, only to notice that something had fallen to the floor in the process. Curious to see what it was, you went down to take a closer look and discovered a feather that caught your attention. It was bigger than your palm, a striking shade of black, with intricate patterns and streaks weaving through the feather,

“Where did you get this from?” You asked him as you finally made eye contact with him but instead of answering you with words he grabbed the feather from between your fingers and crumpled between his palm to throw it away.

“You should go down, it's almost lunch time” you told him sternly “and take a shower, you reek” you glared at him and he couldn't help but chuckle. You had been putting up with his antics for far too long, and it was evident that your patience was wearing thin.

“I don't think so” he mumbled as he approached you and the closer he got the more nervous you became, he didn't actually stink, he smelled really good, woody and earthy, like mahogany.

As Daemon placed his nose dangerously close to the crook of your neck to take a sniff, you immediately pushed him away with a sense of urgency, pressing your hands firmly against his shoulders in an attempt to create some distance between the two of you. However, despite your best efforts he didn't even budge an inch, he was strong, very strong.

“You're going to start your cycle in an hour or so” he mumbled as he stepped away and you looked at him all perplexed. He was good at messing with you, but how did he know you were closer to your date? His ability to predict such an intimate detail made you feel vulnerable and exposed,

“What do you use? Definitely not a tampon considering you're an untouched maiden” he whispered in your ear and your ears felt hot with anger you were feeling at the moment. Why did he enjoy riling you up like this?

“You're pathetic you know, whatever happens to you today, you will deserve it”

His smirk disappeared as he heard your venomous words but before you could feel any sort of pity for him you walked past him, grabbed your cart and got the fuck out of his room.

As you walked away, a sense of shame washed over you. You knew that your behavior had been unprofessional and that you had allowed your emotions to get the better of you. You also knew that allowing a patient to affect you in such a manner was unacceptable, and that you had to learn to maintain your composure.

You went to your supervisor Mona and informed her that you were feeling lightheaded all of a sudden and room 393 was left uncleaned. Luckily for you she didn't pry or ask many questions and you were grateful for that.

About half an hour later you sat down on the toilet to stick a pad into your underwear as you felt the familiar churning in your stomach. How did he know? Even if he was messing with you, the timing of his statement seemed almost eerie, as if he had some sort of supernatural insight into your bodily functions.

You couldn't afford the privilege of resting so you popped two painkillers at once and stepped out of your room to grab lunch. As you entered the canteen, you were surprised to see Shyla there. So she didn't get fired huh? You assumed so because she had her work uniform on.

“Shyla? Are you alright?” You asked her and she immediately broke down in tears which left you feeling concerned. As you got closer, you noticed the marks on her neck and it worried you.

“I'm fine I'm fine..” she mumbled between her tears so you caressed her shoulder to comfort her. Despite her words, she didn't seem fine at all. What had transpired in Dr. Vis’s office and how come he hadn't canned her after she was caught fondling a patient?

Later in the day, Dr. Vis called for a meeting and summoned all female employees, including Dr. Lisa, to attend. As you walked into the meeting room, you saw Shyla standing next to Dr. Vis, she looked embarrassed, nervous but also terrified..

“Look at this girl, look at the suffering she has endured because she couldn't suppress her curiosity” Dr. Vis stood before the group, his eyes fixed on Shyla as he spoke. The mark on her neck seemed much darker now, making it apparent even from a distance now.

“Who did this to you child? Tell them” Dr. Vis asked Shyla and you could see her shaking with fear.

“Daemon– the new patient..he did this”

Your eyes widened as she revealed that. That couldn't be right? You knew he was unpredictable with his behavior but you couldn't see him hurting anyone like that but then you had known him for two weeks and he was a patient. A part of you didn't want to believe her words though, it left you feeling confused.

“Take this as a lesson, do not interact with him when you're on your respective duties. Isolation may be the best way to handle him, and his ego must not be fed. Shyla's actions have shown us that his aggression is only fueled by the attention he receives. Shyla here has been a good employee so I'm granting her one more chance but consider this is an official warning, anyone who disregards my instructions will be met with severe consequences” Everyone in the room nodded in understanding, fully aware of the gravity of Dr. Vis's words.

“Go on now, do your jobs” Dr. Vis asked the group so everyone turned around to leave. Except you.

“Why is he free to roam around if he's so dangerous?”

You knew you should have stayed quiet, you knew you shouldn't have intervened for your own good but you couldn't help yourself.

“Oh dear, are you questioning my authority and my treatment plan for the patient?” He asked smugly so you shook your head in response. You didn't want to piss him off and you definitely didn't want to be on his radar.

“No I'm just.. worried about my safety, I'm assigned to his room so I just-”

“You come to me if you feel threatened by him all right?” He told you sternly so you nodded and didn't stretch the conversation.

As you all stepped out of the room you noticed that Shyla hadn't joined the group. You couldn't help but wonder what Dr. Vis was saying to her in private, and if Daemon truly did hurt her the way she claimed. A part of you found it difficult to believe that he was capable of such a thing but that day in his room he had told you something about losing control. What did he mean? You had a plethora of questions and none of the answers..

During tea time you watched him sitting in the corner of the room all alone, you noticed how nobody was even looking his way, not even the patients, perhaps Dr. Vis had a separate meeting with them as well where he had asked them to not interact with him.

Dina gave you a tray of snacks and tea so you looked at her confused,

“You go give this to him..he scares me, he should be in an asylum and not here”

You gulped as she said that so you walked towards his table and placed the tray down. His eyes met with yours and he seemed so utterly sad that your heart clenched immediately for him. Keeping your anger aside, all you wanted to do was hug him so he wouldn't look so sad.

“Have your tea, dinner will be served late tonight” you spoke to him so he nodded, you had to maintain distance from him like you had done with all patients before but something kept pulling you towards him.

Maybe it was his unique charisma, or perhaps his eyes with their intense gaze. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but there was an aura of intrigue surrounding him that you couldn't ignore. Despite your best efforts to maintain your professionalism, you found yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame, a sense of mystery surrounded him and you wanted to figure him out, you wanted to read him like a book, find out everything he was hiding between those pages.

The next morning when you woke up you found a feather lying near your door that someone must have slipped in from the outside and there was a note as well

“I'm sorry :( ”

That's all it said on the note and it made you smile. Where did he get these feathers from you wondered?

As you wheeled your cart in his room you found him on the bed reading.

He didn't say anything to you but as you approached the bedside drawer to clean it, you felt his eyes on you.

“I'm sorry for what I said yesterday, it was out of line and insensitive” you mumbled softly so he brought his hand forward and grabbed your hand.

The sudden touch surprised you, and you froze for a second, unsure of how to react.

“I deserved it”

You were surprised by the soft tone of his voice, perhaps he was truly apologetic, perhaps he cared a bit as well.

“Why did you hurt her like that?” You asked him as you turned to him finally to gaze into his eyes but your question only caused him confusion..

“What?” he asked

“Shyla” you responded, making his confusion grow.

“What are you talking about?”

“What happened here yesterday between you and her?” He looked away as you questioned him as if he was ashamed.

“I heard a knock on my door, at first i thought it was you” he mumbled so you looked away. Why would you go see him first thing in the morning as if he was your lover? You would never.

“I didn't even know who she was, next thing I know she had her hands all over my cock so I -” you crossed your arms as he said that “I'm a man being deprived of sexual release..what I was supposed to do?”

You bit on your cheeks as he said all that so unabashedly, you could never be so forward about the matters of sex as he was.

“That is all that happened?” You asked him so he sighed.

“I didn't even get to finish, the cunt doctor stormed in and took her away”

You looked him in the eye for a hint of lie or deceit but he seemed genuine and you didn't know who to believe anymore. Why would Shyla lie though? Why would she tell Dr. Vis that he had attacked her? To save her job? Perhaps that could have been a possibility.

“Why don't you use your own capable hands the next time? She could have gotten fired-”

“I didn't invite her. She came onto me and you think I was thinking with my brain at the time?” he asked you with furrowed brows and scowl apparent on his face.

“You should.. especially around here where you are a patient admitted for mental instability, i don't know what's going on here but you need to be careful”

He looked at you confused as you said that but you didn't have time to clear his confusion, you resumed your work before it would get suspicious.

“What kind of bird is that?” You asked him after a while so he gave you a smile.

“What bird?”

“The feathers”

“It's not a bird, it's me, it's from my wings” you sighed as he said that. Every time he said something like that, you were instantly transported back to reality where he was a man who believed that he had the ability to turn into a dragon.

“Okay sure it's yours, ”

“Smile” he mumbled softly so you looked at him.

“What?”

“Please smile, i feel better when you're smiling” your face flushed as he said that and your mouth curved into a smile on its own.

Didn't even have to force it.

Later that night as you laid in bed, you felt confused out of your mind, how did he know you were going to bleed? That was such a random and wild guess, not to mention something very inappropriate to say to a woman he didn't know that well.

You heard a knock on your door so you sat up on the bed, in last two years the only time you had been awakened from the sleep was when a patient was out of control so you were already assuming the worst, but as you finally opened the door, standing in front of you was Daemon, looking as calm and relaxed as ever. For a moment, you were lost for words, wondering why he had come to see you in the middle of the night and that's when you began to freak out.

You'd lose your job if you were caught with him at such late hours.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You asked him as you peaked your head out the door and looked around to see if someone had followed him, when you didn't see anyone you grabbed his arm to usher him inside, closed the door and then you shoved him against it, this was the first time you had truly observed how tall he was as compared to you, you had to crane your neck up to have a conversation with him.

“What are you doing?” You asked him worriedly, why was he so adamant on being sent to the lone ward? He didn't answer you as you questioned him but he suddenly swept you off your feet and flipped you around until you were cornered against the door. His hands wrapped around your waist, trapping you in his embrace, and you could feel the heat of his body against yours.

You couldn't comprehend how he could have such a high body temperature if he wasn't sick. As he placed his nose between the crook of your neck to sniff you like an animal again you tensed up, your instinct told you to fight him, to push him away, but something in his touch made you hesitate. He wasn't hurting you, he has never hurt you physically,

“It calms me down” he mumbled as he pressed a kiss on the side of your neck before he pulled away, the look of confusion visible on your face.

“What?”

“This..your scent, it calms me down”

His fingers curled around hair and you stifled the moan that was threatening to spill out of your throat.

“You need to leave, please, this is not safe for you, it's not good for you” your voice came out in hushed whispers and it only turned him on further,

“Safe for me?” He snickered, “Silly girl, didn't you witness what I did to that poor servant?”

You looked him in the eye as his hand wrapped around your throat, a part of you felt terrified of him but another stayed calm, there was something about him that made it so easy for you to believe that he won't harm you.

“Did you do it?” You asked him so he grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefingers.

“What do you think huh?”

“You don't hurt me, why would you hurt a girl for pleasuring you?” you asked him as you built the courage to place your arm on his shoulders, your thumb ran over his collarbone and you could see his breath wavering at the touch.

“Because I'm unstable and unpredictable” he smirked as he noticed your lips trembling slightly, it didn't bother him that perhaps he terrified you a little, you would have been screaming your lungs out if you were actually scared of him.

“You didn't believe him did you? His lies” he asked you so you gave him a small smile,

“So he was lying?”

“You'd believe my words against his? A patient's word as opposed to a doctor's?” he asked you curiously,

“I know i shouldn't”

As Daemon stepped away from you, your eyes were drawn to the chiseled muscles beneath his skin. The sight was almost mesmerizing, and for a moment you found yourself caught up in his physical attractiveness. But you snapped out of it quickly, your senses on high alert as his hand reached into his pocket, extracting something you couldn't see from this distance. When he stepped back toward you with a feather in hand, your heart raced,

He placed one of his arms over your head while he used the feather with another to caress your cheeks, you closed your eyes again as your breath shuddered like a wave, you had never been touched this way, never been made to feel this way,

The sensation of being touched in such a way was completely new to you, and you found yourself wondering if this was what romance was supposed to feel like.

Were you supposed to feel so scared but so aroused at the same time?

As the feather brushed over your lips, the scent of mahogany filled your senses and this time you didn't care about stifling your moan. It smelled like him, the feather smelled like him, he slowly trailed down the feather from your chin to your neck. The nightie you had on gave him enough exposure to your skin to play around with.

You were so easily ruffled, he thought, never been touched, never been pleasured, never allowed a man to touch you like this and the knowledge brought him a great deal of satisfaction but also a strong feeling of protectiveness.

The realization that you had never experienced such intimacy before filled him with a sense of accomplishment, but at the same time, a need to shield you from the cruelties of the world. He knew that he had the power to influence you, to make you feel things that you never thought possible, but he also knew that he must use that power wisely. He felt responsible for you.

When he lowered the feather into your palm, you looked up at him, your eyes hazy with desire. A sense of confusion swept over you, wondering what he expected you to do with the feather.

“Good night” he mumbled softly even though you were frozen in your spot , still reeling into his touch, but then you collected yourself and stepped away from the door so he could leave. He had to before he got caught.

You closed and locked the door immediately as he was gone and then you stood there right against the door to calm down. Your mind still not believing the encounter, knees still felt wobbly, his touch was still afresh on your skin, it reminded you of the dream you had.

Once you were finally broken out of the trance you looked down at the feather properly and your eyes widened in surprise.

It was soft to the touch but it was the shade of the feather that piqued your curiosity all over again. It only intensified the mystery he had surrounding him and it pulled you deeper into his charm.

"Who are you?" You mumbled under your breath as you inspected the feather. It was the same shade of silver as his hair.

🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

Taglist

@anukulee @ammo23 @littledark11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

@daenny-t

#daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader smut #daemon targaryen x reader fluff #non canon au #modern daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader angst #modern day au

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