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jimilter · 12 days ago

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the ferrari guy | jjk.

You hire an assistant – and Jeon Jungkook loses his mind. Is that irrational of him? Not when the guy you’ve chosen flirts like a hooker, looks like a runway model and dresses like he’s Giorgio Armani himself.

pairing: jungkook x reader rating: pg-15 genre: humor | fluff | chaebol!au | fwb!au | ceo!jungkook warnings: swearing + implied sex + jealousy + insecurity + a certain loml charming everyone’s pants off <3 word count: 3 k note: helloooo fam! i am alive and still writing apparently lmao. jimilter is still a safe space, a wonderful escape from real life and i have no plans of quitting this in near or far future (: no comments on the occasional disappearances tho bec real life has been hectic af! anyways, enjoy this humorous lil drabble from jk's pov (set between part 3 & 4) while i work on the massive angst in part 5! <3

— masterlist | feedback!

↝ the damsel & her knight ⁘ 01 02 03 [3.5] 04 05

On Thursday evening, while leaving work, Jeon Jungkook finds a flashy, bright red Ferrari convertible blocking his car in the parking lot of his office. An office in a building his father owns.

Needless to say, he is beyond mad.

"Who the heck even drives a Ferrari in our company?" he barks into the phone, scowling when his secretary gives an exasperated sigh.

"President ma'am interviewed some people today, sir. Maybe it's one of the candidate's cars?"

"What kind of a douchy person comes to a job interview in a convertible?" Jungkook is still scowling at the vermillion vehicle when his brain catches up with the rest of the information Haeri imparted. His mouth dropping open, he raises his free hand up in front of his face, as if to stop time. "Hold on – did you say President ma'am?"

"Uh, yes, si—"

"She interviewed people? Why? What for?" he cuts his secretary off, frowning.

"She is hiring an assistant, sir."

"Wha—why does she need an assistant?"

Haeri is quiet for a while. Then she clears her throat. "I would suggest you to not ask her this, sir."

Jungkook sighs. Haeri is always so straightforward with him. Sometimes a bit too straightforward. But she’s always guiding him around making stupid decisions, and maybe that is why he's had her in his office for nearly two years now. The longest he’s had a secretary ever since he joined the company as the CEO.

There’s also the fact that Haeri actually has a boyfriend and is immune to all of Jungkook’s charm… Not that he’s actually tried them on her, per se. He’s been otherwise occupied in that department for a while. Very happily and proudly so.

Clearing his throat, "Yeah, sorry," he grumbles to the girl, turning around to eye the offensive car again. "I'm texting you the license plate number, will you make an announcement on Prez's floor?"

"Sir, I—"

"Good. Thanks, Haeri, you're a gem!"

Even as a security guard comes and removes the obstructing vehicle within minutes and Jungkook is free to leave, his mind doesn’t feel settled. At all. He isn’t sure what it is that irks him about you hiring an assistant, but it is something for sure. Maybe he fears you’d pay him even lesser attention at work than the scant amount you do now. Maybe he thinks you won’t need his help with the integrated Firewall-VPN project anymore. Maybe he… Well, he isn't sure.

But something about this just usettles him. Which is what has him texting you close to midnight, casually dropping his question without offending you with a ‘why’ just like Haeri instructed him to.

↪ hey prez ↪ heard you’re hiring an assistant?

Your reply comes exactly ninety-four seconds later. Yes, he counts.

You heard that in the middle of the night?

He bites his lip, rubbing his reddening cheeks against the cold cotton of his pillow in embarrassment, but doesn’t lose hope because you’re still typing.

I have actually already had the interviews today The guy joins tomorrow You wanna drop by with a welcome gift basket? :)

His glare stays fixed on the little, taunting smile for a long while, before it moves to the word ‘guy’ in your text. You’ve hired a guy assistant.

Jungkook wonders if the bile suddenly roiling in his stomach has any correlation with the explicit images his brain suddenly conjures up of you and a faceless male making out in your office.

God, he’s going insane.

The next morning, Jungkook is barging into Yoongi's office with a frown. "Prez hired an assistant."

Min Yoongi very slowly looks up from his computer screen, gaze wary. "Good morning to you too, Jeon. I’m doing well, thanks for asking.”

Jungkook ignores the man’s sarcasm and instead drops into one of the couches placed on one side of his office, groaning. “It’s a guy.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Head whipping up faster than the blink of an eye, Jungkook gapes at your Creative Director. “You have heard?”

Yoongi gives him a tired look. “My office is on the same floor as hers, Jeon. I have more than just heard.”

“Have you seen the guy?” he quickly rushes out, wide eyes boring into Yoongi’s disinterested ones.

“Met him. Kid’s jovial and efficient. She’s gonna love him.”

What? Jungkook stalks up to Yoongi’s table with a scowl. “Kid?”

“Oh, he’s probably older than you.”

“Jovial?”

“Yeah, always got a smile on his face; not a word out of his mouth without giggles.”

Giggles? Jungkook's pinky finger twitches in irritation because giggling is supposed to be his thing. How dare you.

“And he's really freaking efficient too, man." Yoongi continues when Jungkook has stayed quiet for too long. "He's got a typing speed of 96 wpm, can speak five languages, is capable of charming every guest with a grin and some sweet words—oh! And he’s quick on his feet! Delivered five coffees on two different floors with the steam still coming out of the cups.” Yoongi has a fond, dreamy look on his face, and if it wasn’t for the wedding band on his finger, Jungkook would have assumed the guy has fallen in love with your new assistant.

Which doesn’t sit well with Jungkook at all. Teeth gritted and fists clenched, he gazes out of the glass doors of Yoongi’s office to yours.

You aren’t in, yet. Should he pay your oh-so-wonderful assistant a visit before you are?

You’d surely have his head if you catch him threatening the dude – not that he plans on it; he just feels like he might – but it’s a risk he is very much willing to take.

And so, over Yoongi’s protests, Jungkook marches out of the guy’s office and, crossing the long corridor, lands at yours.

There’s an additional table placed perpendicular to yours within the glass cabin and Jungkook wishes he had laser vision so he could incinerate the damn thing in its place. He looks around the office for the guy of the hour, grunting at the small trinkets he finds adorning the new table.

Who keeps a freaking potted plant on a desk? What if it fell off and died?

Jungkook doubts this guy is as efficient as Yoongi talked about him being. He chokes in the middle of the accompanying scoff, though, because his eyes suddenly locate, well, keys.

Sleek, black, no bigger than a matchbox, with a silver, galloping horse engraved on the obviously custom made leather surface. Keys to a Ferrari. What are the odds?

“Ma’am, you’re in earl—oh…”

Jungkook twists on heels at the voice, coming face to face with a guy that honestly doesn’t look much older than him despite what Yoongi said. His eyes are wide and lips rounded, brown hair brushed off his forehead to display the perfect arch to his thick eyebrows. He wears a – Jungkook hates to admit – gorgeously tailored dark brown suit that Jungkook knows to be Armani because he just made the same purchase a week back.

The guy, simply put, doesn't look assistant-material at all. He could be on Vogue's cover with those plump lips and shapely eyes of his. Or perhaps pose for swimsuit commercials with that bubble butt. Or walk the ramp for Armani, Patek Philippe or Chanel, given the brands Jungkook can spot on him.

But he isn't in any of those places – he is here, in your office, as your assistant.

“Good morning, sir!” he suddenly exclaims, and here’s the jollity Yoongi talked about. “You must be Mr. Jeon, the CEO?”

Jungkook gives him a jilted nod, hating the flawless mannerism the guy displays and the accompanying subconscious twitch his lips give in response, and inches back towards the door. “Um, yeah… I was just leaving…”

Your assistant’s smile falls and a concerned look overtakes his face. “But you just got here?”

And something about the innocent pout with which he looks at Jungkook has him rooted to the place. In wonder? Confusion? Shock?

Awe?

He can't freaking tell.

“I can get you some coffee, if you’d like? Everyone’s been telling me I brew a killer espresso!” He flashes a proud smile while Jungkook just helplessly gapes. “I can also get you some snacks? Sandwiches? Cookies? Ooh, would you like some pastries? Our office canteen has some amazing Danishes, would you like one? Ah, your forehead is all misty. Here!”

Before Jungkook can react, the guy is in his face with a tissue, dabbing the sweat away from Jungkook’s arched eyebrows. His smile is blinding, dear God, Jungkook cannot articulate a single word out of the storming confusion in his head. Since when do men have such pouty lips?

When he steps back, he immediately gestures to a couch. “Make yourself comfortable, sir! May I lower the temperature? You still haven’t said what you need.”

Finally, finally able to collect his thoughts, Jungkook releases a long exhale.

Who the actual fuck is this guy? A witch? A siren?

Jungkook needs to get out of here and he needs to talk to you.

“Uh, no, thank you, none of that. I, um, I’m good.” Quickly flashing the guy a tight lipped smile, Jungkook slips out of the doors. “I came to see Prez, but she's obviously not here, so… I’ll – I'llcome back later. Good day.”

Even as Jungkook immediately storms out of the office and rushes to the elevators to hurry back to his own floor, your assistant calls out a very happy sounding, “You have the best day, sir!”

Well-mannered, fashionable, charming in a very alarming way. Dude literally had him gaping for a whole minute with his head pretty damn empty. Jungkook's head is never empty.

This guy is so weird and… dangerous. Where did you find him?

And, in fact, why did he come here?

The guy's obviously rich, given all the brands he wears like second skin, so why the heck does he want to work as your assistant? In the same office as you?

Jungkook roughly swallows as the images he conjured last night make a return to his head – this time, with your assistant’s regrettably very handsome face on the previously faceless guy you were making out with.

He wants to punch a wall.

What he does, instead, is shoot off a text to his secretary, telling her he isn’t feeling well and is going back home. And then another one to you, asking you to pay him a visit tonight. And possibly stay the night because he bought some extra alcohol.

He hasn’t, but the first stop he makes after leaving the office will be to pick up some expensive red wine.

Everytime Jungkook pulls out of you, spent and sweaty and satisfied, after the deed is done, he is left in disbelief. Every single time. Is this really happening? Are you really sleeping with him? Do you actually feel attracted to his body?

He is smart enough to not delude himself into thinking there's more to it, but it doesn't matter because whatever there is between you both is enough to astound him every time the two of you have sex.

Right now, as you sit with your back to him, pulling on his t-shirt over your bare frame – Jungkook's mind is caught onto something a little different than his usual daze of disbelief, though.

And even though he’s risking it by questioning the ‘why’ despite his secretary’s warnings, Jungkook can’t help it when he brings it up. "So… Hiring an assistant. Why so suddenly?"

You hum and give a noncommittal shrug. "I can't be in the office all the time. It's high time I hired one, don’t you think?"

Jungkook doesn’t think so. But he’d definitely be dead meat if he said it out loud. “Sure… What tasks will you give him?”

That earns him a confused look from you over your shoulder. “Do you wanna tell me something, Jeon?”

Wide-eyed, he gapes at you. “What?”

“Did something happen with Haeri? Is that why—”

“Oh, no,” he exhales, beyond relieved, then shakes his head with a smile when you continue to eye him suspiciously. “I just… Well. I’m always making Haeri pick up after me as if she’s a babysitter and not an office worker, you know? So I thought I could use some tips from you…”

You nod at that, turning back around to pull on your panties, and Jungkook breathes easier. He has sold his lie and you’ve bought it. “That’s actually thoughtful and mature of you. Where was this maturity when you had me running after you, though?” you grumble with a playful glare, and he just laughs.

“It is because of all of that that I’ve finally learnt to be mature, Prez.”

Straightening after having covered your lower half, you inch back on the bed and rest your back against the headboard. “Well. To be fair, he has been running around for tiny errands for the two days he’s been here, so I can’t really lecture you, right now,” you admit. “But I wanted someone in the office for the meetings-season that is about to arrive as we near the launch, you know? Both you and I will be busy with the project. Poor Yoongi will need all the help he can get.”

Jungkook frowns. “Why doesn’t Yoongi hire an assistant then?”

You snort at that and gesture to the bottle of wine on the nightstand. “Why’re you pressed about it? You said you need tips, right?”

“Ah, yes, of course. I just want some tips.” Quickly catching his slip, Jungkook pours you a glass and settles next to you, bare, with the covers thrown across his lap for modesty. “So… will he be accompanying you to meetings, then? Or fill in for you while you’re busy with other stuff?”

“Well, initially he will shadow me for a week or so. And then when I get busy overseeing the launch event and coordinating with the Lims and other investors, he can switch between locations around the city to ensure everything is in order because Yoongi can’t be doing everything, you know?” You take a sip from your glass of wine and shrug a shoulder. “He’s our Creative Director, he needs to hold the fort while everyone runs around like headless chickens.”

Jungkook sips at his wine and musters a thin smile. Because yes, it definitely makes sense why you needed to hire an assistant. Speaking of, Yoongi probably needs one as well.

Damn, when he used to work as a Software Analyst at a different company, he had no idea the executives of a company had so much to do. It always looks like an easy life looking in from the outside. But as CEO, he has come to learn that if someone in a higher up position makes a mistake, they initiate a dominoes’ fall all the way down.

“You met him, didn’t you?”

His surprised eyes fly to yours at the question. You’re looking at him with a smirk, and Jungkook’s heart gives a thump at how sexy you look. Your question, though, throws him off. "I… How did you—”

You roll your eyes. “He told me you came in to see me and then left. I checked in with Haeri and she said you weren’t feeling well.”

Wow. They both snitched on him. Just great.

And now you're looking at him with barely contained laughter as if you know how jealous he feels. Who is he kidding, of course you know how jealous he feels. You always know this kind of stuff, ugh.

“Don’t be getting insecure, Jeon, my assistant will remain only an assistant.”

He doesn’t know why you say that, but he appreciates it all the same. The twinkle in your eyes expresses playful adoration and the way it makes his heart race kinda scares him.

But then you lean in with an exaggerated kissy face to press a wet smooch on his mouth. When you pull away, he looks at you with a slight pout on his lips. You tilt your head to the side with a squint.

"What?"

"It's… Why did you pick the Ferrari guy?" Jungkook sounds a little whiny, but he can't help it.

You look at him over the rim of your glass, eyebrows nearing your hairline, amusement spilling from your gaze. "Uh, what's wrong with the Ferrari guy?"

"Nothing, of course, that's not what I meant," he tries to amend with a chuckle, but given the way you narrow your eyes at him before putting your glass away to cross your arms, you probably don't buy it. So he speaks on. "It's just that he doesn't look like an assistant, you know?"

"I… don’t actually. What does an assistant look like?"

Are you being purposely difficult or is Jungkook being completely weird? He's not exactly sure how to explain it better, but he's definitely sure that any other way would have been better than what comes out of his mouth next. "I mean, a bit… less… flirty, I guess?"

"What? What the hell did he do to you?"

He groans at your excited expressions. "Dude had me gaping at him for fifteen minutes while he talked about God knows what, because I couldn't focus on his words! I don't even like men like that!"

You give a loud snort and then break into loud peals of laughter. "Well, Jungkook, maybe you do! Maybe you just haven't had your awakening yet!"

"Not funny," he grunts, even as a humored smile slips on to his face at your loud giggles. "What did you say his name was, again?"

You raise an eyebrow. "I didn't."

He rolls his eyes. "Well, my dear Prez, what is your new assistant's name?"

"Park Jimin." Your smile turns goofy and eyes almost dreamy. "Pretty name for a pretty man. Right?"

He rolls his eyes at your suggestive wink, grumbling as he finishes his glass of wine in a large gulp.

You give a small sigh. "He's a nice guy, give him a chance. Heart of gold, or whatever they say."

Jungkook decides that he, for reasons way beyond his supposed homoerotic awakening, absolutely hates Park Jimin's guts. He's going to convince you to fire him. And soon.

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x you #w: tfg #*mine: fic

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f14fun · 4 months ago

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big mouth, big brain (!youtuber x op81) ~ part 2

synopsis: in which case y/n, a video essayist pops up on oscar's youtube feed, and he falls in love with the way she speaks and tells stories

smau + prose (5.3K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚��𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | prev | next ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

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a little over a week later, on march 24...

yourusername:

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 211,009 others

yourusername: thx babe 🧡

view comments

oscarpiastri: np honey 🧡

user1: aight what is this sudden new development 😀

user1: i mean i'm NOT complaining but YOU SIR better take care of our pookie dookie wookie y/n 🧐🫵🏽

oscarpiastri: got it, got it 😁😁🫣

user2: girl you got him blushing and shiii-

user3: omg i saw her today at the melborne gp and she was so nice to me! like i'm not familiar with who she is really (i'm new to the wonderful world of mawmaw y/n!), but i just know she will be the perfect wag <3

user3: like she saw me struggling with my lanyard, wine, and duffle bag, and offered to literally hold all three, i love her so much

user3: and her outfits are literally so cute, oscar, you chose the right one!

liked by oscarpiastri

user4: omg SHE'S REPPING THE ORANGE HEART #teampapaya

user5: y/nscar, my mawmaw and pawpaw 😘😽💋

user6: like i know they are not official official, but these soft launches gotta stoppp, just hard launch already

user7: girl is he good in bed

user7: please please please give deets, ily!

user8: fam you mad weird for that one

user9: please for the love of god respect their privacy

liked by oscarpiastri and yourusername

oscarpiastri: ready for date night 2 night?

yourusername: always ready for u 💗

user10: the BLATANT FLIRTING NAHHH

user11: imagine if this is all one big fat skit i'm actually going to scream cry throwup kms

landonorris: so nice to meet you today, love a girl who finally makes oscar stfu

yourusername: LMAOO 😭😭 it was a please lando

oscarpiastri: 🙄🙄

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I was in fact, not alright.

It had been little over a year since I had been on an actual date (not counting the instances where I went over to a guy's house for some ramen, and all of a sudden that was the date) Used to all these low effort, casual efforts at being romantic, I was suddenly hit with the prospect of an actual man who wanted to treat me with respect.

Oscar Piastri.

The man who I idolized as I grew up, always admiring his grit and courage from afar.

And this hardworking man wanted to take me out on a date. For real.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to calm the flurry of nerves that churned within me. I smoothed my champagne white colored dress and straightened my Cult Gaia necklace. Oscar had only asked of one thing of me tonight, which was to either wear white or beige.

My heart pounded relentlessly, a drumbeat of anticipation and anxiety. It wasn't just any date; it was a date with Oscar Piastri. The very thought sent my mind spiraling. How did I, of all people, end up here? (answer: being chronically online did)

Every interaction with Oscar had been a mixture of awe and admiration. I remembered the first time I saw him race, the way he navigated the track with unparalleled skill and determination. He wasn't just a driver; he was a force of nature, a symbol of relentless ambition and hard work. And now, here I was, about to go on a date with him.

Even though he got fourth at his home race today, I was extremely proud of him. Both as a fan, and quite possibly, his girlfriend by the end of the night (the delusional girl in me said the last part, clearly).

When he had dm'd me privately after tweeting publicly he would like to take me out, I remember completely blanking. I nearly blacked out when he insisted on calling to go over the nitty gritty details of everything with me.

From flying me out, to booking my hotel and making sure my stay in Melbourne was as comfortable as possible, I was feeling a swirl of new emotions. Sure, life was going fast, but I liked this pace. Especially if Oscar could be beside me whilst life passed us by.

Balancing my studies at the prestigious university I attended and my growing presence as a vlogger had never been easy. My days were a blur of lectures, assignments, and shooting content for YouTube and various brand sponsorships. I had started with simple vlogs, but over time, my content had evolved into elaborate video essays on various topics, from Formula 1 analysis to a break down on the world's current events, both in pop culture and politics.

My followers had grown steadily, and so had the demands on my time.

Yet, despite the chaos, I had always found solace in my passion for vlogging. It was my creative outlet, a way to connect with people who shared my interests. My video essays, in particular, had garnered a lot of attention. They were meticulously researched, edited with care, and infused with my personal touch. The positive feedback I received made all the sleepless nights worth it.

But tonight, I wasn't thinking about the next video essay or the pile of coursework waiting for me. Tonight, I was focused on one thing: Oscar.

I had documented my journey to Melbourne in a vlog, capturing every moment from the airport, to the breathtaking view from my hotel room, to the race in Melbourne as well.

My followers were eagerly anticipating the next installment, but for now, they would have to wait. This was my time, a rare moment to step out from behind the camera and live in the present.

As I made my way to the lobby to meet Oscar, my phone buzzed with notifications. Messages of encouragement from friends and comments from my followers flooded in, but I silenced them. Tonight was about more than just content; it was about experiencing something real.

Exhaling as the elevator door slowly opened, the incessant ringing of jazz music seemed to warp and slow as I made eye contact with Oscar from across the lobby. He seemed nervous, fidgeting with his cufflinks.

Earlier in the day, we couldn't see each other, as media duties for the both of us consumed our time. So here we were, for the first time, meeting each other in person.

He was much taller in person than I had actually expected.

It was one thing to see him plastered across a big screen and splattered across billboards in New York City, but it was another to see this man in all his glory, in the flesh.

His shoulders seemed to broaden as I approach him, and a million thoughts were swirling in my mind. I just hoped the same million thoughts were swirling in his mind as well.

His fluffy brown hair looked newly tousled with, but not to the point where it looked terribly unruly. He looked human, with that crooked smile, and his eyes folded into little half moons—like parenthesis—he was happy to see me. As I was too.

All eloquence, sense of being, and peace of mind disappeared in an instant. Mouth slightly gapping widely, I was at a loss of words for once in my life.

Oscar Piastri is beautiful.

We simultaneously reached out for a hug, our laughter breaking the awkward silence that had settled upon us as we sized each other up for the first time. The hug was amazing, enveloping me in a warmth that felt almost surreal.

His arms wrapped around me with a gentle firmness, and I felt a sense of comfort and safety that I hadn't experienced in a long time. It was as if I had come home, even though we were standing in the middle of a bustling hotel lobby.

The hug lasted a little longer than usual, neither of us wanting to let go. I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my own, and the scent of his cologne, fresh and slightly woody, filled my senses.

When I finally, reluctantly let go, his hand lingered on my waist for a moment longer, sending a shiver down my spine. The touch was intimate and unhurried, a silent acknowledgment of the connection we both felt.

As his hand finally released its gentle hold, I felt butterflies fluttering wildly in my stomach. My cheeks warmed, a blush creeping up as I tried to steady my breathing. I glanced up at him and saw that he was blushing a little bit too, his cheeks tinged with a soft pink.

His bashful smile mirrored my own feelings, and in that shared moment of vulnerability, we both knew this was the start of something special.

Oscar cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "I, uh, got something for you," he said, his voice tinged with nerves.

He flipped the bag he was holding around, and I could see the words Valentino sprawled across it. I gasped, my eyes widening in surprise.

"Oscar, you didn't," I whispered, my heart racing even faster.

He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wasn't sure which one you wanted, so I got both," he admitted, looking sheepish yet proud. "One in red and one in blue."

I was completely floored. "Oscar, this is… wow," I stammered, at a loss for words. I had never expected such a grand gesture, especially not on our first date. It was one thing to admire him from afar, but to have him go to such lengths for me was overwhelming.

He shifted slightly, his nervousness palpable. "I just wanted to do something special for you," he said softly, his eyes meeting mine. "You deserve it."

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Oscar," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "This means so much to me."

He smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made my heart swell. "I'm glad you like it," he said, stepping closer. "I wanted tonight to be perfect."

I looked down at the beautifully crafted bags, my fingers tracing the elegant lettering of Valentino. Each bag represented more than just a luxury item; it was a symbol of his consideration and effort. It was clear that he had put thought into this, wanting to make a good impression and show that he cared.

"I can't believe you did all this," I murmured, still in awe. "It's… beyond anything I could have imagined."

He took a deep breath, his confidence growing slightly as he saw my reaction. "You deserve to be treated well," he said, his voice firm. "And I wanted to make sure you knew that."

The sincerity in his eyes was undeniable, and I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me. "Thank you," I repeated, my heart swelling with affection. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he replied, his hand gently brushing against mine. "Just enjoy the evening."

As we stood there, the world around us seemed to fade away. In that moment, it was just the two of us, sharing something special and unforgettable. And for the first time in a long while, I felt truly cherished.

"I feel like I'm dreaming," I confessed, a soft laugh escaping my lips. "This is all so surreal."

Oscar's eyes softened as he took my hand in his. "It's real, Y/N. And it's just the beginning."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt my cheeks flush. The thought that this was just the start of something more was both thrilling and terrifying. But as I looked into his eyes, I felt a sense of reassurance.

"Let's make tonight memorable," he said, his thumb gently caressing the back of my hand.

I nodded, my heart pounding with anticipation. "Absolutely."

With a gentle squeeze of my hand, he led me out of the hotel lobby. The evening air was cool and refreshing, and as we walked towards his black McLaren that was waiting for us, I couldn't help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Oscar had gone above and beyond to make this night special, and I was determined to cherish every moment.

As we approached the car, Oscar immediately took the initiative to ensure everything was perfect for me. He opened the passenger door and motioned for me to sit down, but not before adjusting the seat settings. He carefully moved the seat forward and tilted it slightly to match my height, ensuring I would be comfortable during the ride.

"Is the seat okay?" he asked, looking at me with genuine concern.

I nodded, already feeling the comfort of the perfectly adjusted seat. But he wasn't done yet. He leaned in and adjusted the air conditioning, making sure it wasn't too chilly. "I know it can get a bit cold sometimes," he said with a small smile, "so I set it to a warmer temperature."

I smiled back, appreciating his thoughtfulness. Once he was satisfied that I was comfortable, he turned his attention to my belongings. Gently taking the old bag I had brought with me, he began transferring my items into the new red Valentino bag he had gifted me. He was meticulous, making sure that nothing was left behind and that everything was placed neatly in the new bag.

"Here, let me help you with this," he said softly, his hands moving deftly as he organized my things.

Watching him, I felt a warmth spread through me. He wasn't just being thoughtful; he was showing me that he cared about every little detail, making sure that I felt special and valued.

Once he had finished, he handed me the new bag, his eyes shining with pride. "There you go," he said, his voice gentle. "Everything's all set."

I took the bag from him, my fingers brushing against his for a moment. "Thank you, Oscar," I said, my voice filled with gratitude. "You didn't have to do all this."

He shrugged modestly, a bashful smile playing on his lips. "I wanted to," he replied simply. "I wanted tonight to be perfect for you."

And as he closed the passenger door and walked around to the driver's side, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by his kindness and attention to detail. Oscar Piastri was proving to be more than just a racing legend; he was a gentleman, someone who cared deeply and went out of his way to make me feel cherished.

Oscar didn't act like an immature, twenty-three year old boy, like some people made him out to be. Unlike the bummy guys I had known and casually dated before, this was a step up.

He maneuvered the car with ease, backing up with one hand on the steering wheel while his other arm rested casually on the back of my seat. I couldn't help but admire the way his muscles shifted and tensed underneath his white collared shirt, the fabric stretching slightly over his broad shoulders. It was impossible not to find it incredibly attractive. My cheeks heated up, a blush spreading across my face. Oscar noticed and turned to look at me, his eyebrows raising slightly. "Are you blushing?" he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

Caught off guard, I stammered, "Um, no...I mean, maybe a little." I laughed nervously, trying to brush it off, but the warmth in my cheeks only intensified.

He chuckled, a soft, bashful sound, and I noticed a faint blush creeping up his own neck. "I guess we're both a bit flustered tonight," he admitted, glancing back at the road. The air between us felt charged with a mix of excitement and nervous energy.

As we settled into the drive, the initial awkwardness began to dissipate, replaced by a comfortable silence. I watched the city lights blur past us, the rhythm of the car soothing my nerves. Sensing a shift in the atmosphere, Oscar took a deep breath and broke the silence. "You know, there's a lot of pressure in Formula 1," he said, his voice thoughtful. "It's not just about the races. There's so much that goes on behind the scenes—training, media obligations, sponsorships. It can be overwhelming sometimes. But having someone like you here tonight, it makes it all feel worth it."

I smiled, touched by his openness. "I can only imagine how tough it must be," I replied. "Balancing my studies and vlogging is already a handful. There are days when it feels like I'm barely keeping up with everything. But tonight...I'm really grateful to be here with you."

He glanced over at me, his eyes soft and understanding. "Sounds like we both have a lot on our plates," he said. "But maybe tonight, we can just focus on ourselves and leave all those distractions behind."

"Agreed," I said, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. "Tonight is just about us."

We exchanged smiles, a silent agreement to make the most of this evening and cherish the time we had together. The city lights blurred past us as we drove on, the world outside fading into the background as we found solace in each other's company. The pressures of our respective worlds felt miles away, replaced by a shared sense of tranquility and excitement for what the night had in store.

The McLaren navigated smoothly through the city streets, and with each passing moment, I found myself more captivated by Oscar's presence. His occasional sideways glances and the genuine interest he showed in our conversation made me feel seen and appreciated in a way I hadn't experienced before. It was refreshing to connect with someone on such a deep level, especially amidst our busy lives.

"I've always admired your dedication to racing," I said, breaking the silence that had settled comfortably between us. "It must take an incredible amount of discipline."

Oscar smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Thank you," he replied sincerely. "It's my passion, but it's also a demanding profession. Every race, every decision matters. It's a constant balancing act, trying to perform at your best while managing everything else."

"I can relate," I admitted with a small laugh. "Trying to balance university assignments, vlogging, and now, this unexpected but wonderful evening—it's a lot to juggle."

He nodded thoughtfully. "You're doing an amazing job," he reassured me. "Not many people can handle all of that with such grace."

The compliment warmed my heart, and I felt a surge of gratitude towards him. "Thank you, Oscar. And for what it's worth, I think you handle the pressures of Formula 1 admirably."

His gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. The city lights cast a soft glow on his features, accentuating the earnestness in his expression. "I appreciate that," he said softly. "Having you here tonight, it's a reminder of why I do what I do."

A comfortable silence settled between us once more, filled with unspoken understanding and a growing connection. The air inside the car was charged with an undeniable chemistry, a magnetic pull that drew us closer with each passing minute. It was a rare and precious moment, where time seemed to slow down, allowing us to savor each other's company without the weight of responsibilities and expectations.

Oscar glanced at me, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know," he said, a playful grin spreading across his face, "if you keep blushing like that, I'm going to think you're a better driver than me."

I laughed, my cheeks still warm. "Oh please, you know I'm terrible with directions. I'd probably get us lost before we even reach the restaurant."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, don't worry, I'll be your GPS for the night. Just don't expect me to be as reliable as my car on the track."

At a stoplight, he turned to look at me, and to my surprise, he brushed a loose strand of my hair away from my face to the back of my head. Holding my chin, he smiled, and a small smirk blossomed across his face.

Imagine my shock horror when I started blushing again. It felt like that one Grey's Anatomy episode where a girl wouldn't stop blushing, and got surgery to treat her incessant blushing.

Yes, I really felt like Kelly Roesch every time I was around Oscar.

"Y/N, do I really make you blush that much?" Oscar smirked and looked forward, as the light had changed back to green. Pressing the gas pedal, he sped off, and I let out a gasp from how fast the car was going.

Caught off guard, I stammered, "Um, maybe I am blushing, what about it?" I dared to challenge playfully, immediately regretting my boldness and the sudden surge of moxie.

Oscar turned to look at me, his smile widening. "You're adorable when you blush," he remarked, his tone warm and affectionate.

Embarrassment tinged with delight colored my cheeks even more. "Well, you have that effect on me," I confessed, feeling a rush of courage.

He chuckled softly. "Good to know," he teased gently, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary before returning to the road.

The playful banter eased the tension between us, infusing the car with a light, flirtatious energy. As we continued driving through the city streets, our conversation flowed effortlessly, alternating between laughter and more serious topics.

Oscar shared anecdotes from his racing career, injecting humor into tales of close calls and victories, while I recounted memorable vlogging experiences and the challenges of managing a demanding schedule.

Each exchange deepened our connection, fostering a sense of mutual understanding and admiration. There was an unspoken chemistry between us, a magnetic pull that grew stronger with every shared laugh and meaningful glance. I

t was as if we had known each other for much longer than just this evening, our bond forged in the shared pursuit of passion and ambition.

By the time we arrived at the restaurant, the initial nervousness had transformed into a comfortable familiarity. Oscar held the car door open for me with a gallant smile, his gestures both chivalrous and endearing.

As we walked into the restaurant together, hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected turn of events that brought us here.

When we arrived at the front entrance of the restaurant, I was once again struck by the thoughtfulness of his choices. The place was elegant yet intimate, with a cozy ambiance that made me feel instantly at ease.

Oscar had clearly put a lot of thought into every detail, and it was impossible not to be touched by his efforts.

As we sat down, I couldn't help but smile at him. "You really went all out, didn't you?" I teased gently.

He shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. "Only the best for you."

I blushed, feeling the warmth of his words wash over me. "Thank you, Oscar. For everything."

"You're worth it," he said simply, his gaze unwavering.

In that moment, I knew that this was more than just a date. It was the beginning of something beautiful, something that had the potential to grow into a deep and meaningful connection.

And as the night unfolded, filled with laughter, conversation, and a shared sense of excitement, I realized that I was ready to embrace it wholeheartedly.

As we settled into our seats at the cozy restaurant, the atmosphere around us seemed to hum with a quiet energy. Oscar and I exchanged glances, a knowing smile playing on both our lips, as if silently acknowledging the unspoken tension between us.

"So, Y/N," Oscar began, his voice low and playful, "tell me more about your vlogging. Any juicy behind-the-scenes stories?"

I chuckled, stirring my drink slightly. "Oh, you know, the usual. Endless editing sessions, occasional tech disasters. But it's all worth it when I get to share something meaningful with my followers."

"Sounds like a lot of work," he mused, his gaze lingering on mine. "But I bet you enjoy every minute of it."

"Most of the time," I admitted, feeling a rush of warmth at his attentiveness.

As I settled into recounting the tea ceremony mishap, I couldn't help but chuckle at the memory, though at the time, it had been far from funny. "So, there I was, kneeling beside this beautifully arranged tea set," I began, gesturing animatedly with my hands. "The camera was perfectly positioned to capture this serene moment. I was about to take a sip of the freshly brewed tea when suddenly, the tripod leg gave way."

Oscar leaned forward, his eyes fixed on me with rapt attention. "No way," he interjected, clearly intrigued.

"Yes way," I confirmed with a laugh. "And in that split second, everything descended into chaos. The camera toppled over, knocking into the low table where the tea set was displayed. Cups shattered, tea leaves scattered everywhere, and I, in a desperate attempt to catch the camera, managed to knock over a delicate vase of flowers."

Oscar's laughter filled the air, a genuine and infectious sound that made me smile even wider. "You must have been in shock," he remarked, shaking his head in amusement.

"I was," I admitted, recalling the moment vividly. "But somehow, amidst the chaos, I kept rolling. I think I was in such disbelief that I just kept filming, capturing the aftermath of the disaster. Tea leaves floating in the air, water dripping from the overturned vase—it was a scene straight out of a comedy."

"And your viewers got to witness it all?" Oscar asked, still chuckling.

"Oh, they did," I confirmed, a grin spreading across my face. "And surprisingly, they loved it. I received so many comments about how refreshing it was to see the behind-the-scenes reality, even if it meant watching me fumble through a tea ceremony."

Oscar nodded thoughtfully, his gaze softening as he leaned back in his chair. "It just goes to show," he mused, "sometimes the unplanned moments make the best stories."

"Absolutely," I agreed, feeling a rush of gratitude for his genuine interest. "And speaking of stories, I'm sure you have your fair share of dramatic moments on the track. Care to share?"

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned forward, ready to share tales from the fast-paced world of Formula 1. "Well, there was this one time in Australia," he began, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "During one of my rookie years, I had a near-miss with a kangaroo. It came out of nowhere, right in the middle of the track. I had to swerve so hard I thought I'd end up in the barriers."

I gasped, eyes wide. "A kangaroo? Seriously? Only you would have an experience like that!"

He chuckled, clearly enjoying my reaction. "Yep, only in Australia, right? But that wasn't the end of it. The kangaroo didn't just stay on the track. It jumped over the barriers and ended up in the audience. People were screaming and trying to get out of its way. It was pure chaos."

"Oh my God," I laughed, shaking my head in disbelief. "Did anyone get hurt?"

"No, thankfully," Oscar replied, his eyes twinkling. "Security managed to corral the kangaroo and get it to safety. But it was definitely one of the most chaotic moments I've ever experienced on the track. The race had to be stopped for a few minutes until everything was under control.

The whole time, I was just sitting in my car, watching this kangaroo cause mayhem and thinking, 'Is this really happening?'"

I couldn't stop laughing at the mental image. "I can't believe it. That's insane. Did they ever find out how the kangaroo got there in the first place?"

Oscar shook his head, a smile still playing on his lips. "No idea. It was one of those freak occurrences. But it definitely made for an unforgettable race. Every time I go back to that track, I half expect to see another kangaroo waiting to jump out."

I giggled, feeling a warm connection building between us. "Well, I hope not. One near-miss with a kangaroo is more than enough for a lifetime."

He nodded in agreement, his smile broadening. "Yeah, definitely. But hey, it makes for a great story to tell on a first date, right?"

I blushed at his words, realizing just how special this evening was becoming. "Absolutely," I agreed, feeling a rush of gratitude for his genuine interest. "And speaking of stories, I'm sure you have your fair share of other dramatic moments on the track. Care to share?"

His eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned forward, ready to share more tales from the fast-paced world of Formula 1. "Oh, I have plenty," he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "There was this one time when..."

As he launched into another story, I couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly we were connecting, each story weaving us closer together in this unexpected evening of laughter and shared experiences. The initial awkwardness had completely dissipated, replaced by a sense of comfort and camaraderie that felt both exciting and natural.

"You have some pretty wild stories," I said, still marveling at the idea of a kangaroo on the track. "I can't imagine how you keep your cool in situations like that."

He shrugged, a modest smile playing on his lips. "You get used to it, I guess. Racing teaches you to expect the unexpected. But it's not always as dramatic as dodging wildlife. Sometimes it's the little things that make a big difference, like dealing with sudden changes in weather or handling a tricky pit stop."

I leaned in, fascinated. "Tell me more about the pit stops. They always seem so intense on TV."

Oscar's eyes lit up as he delved into the intricacies of pit stops, explaining how every second counts and how the coordination between the driver and the crew is crucial. "It's a lot of pressure," he admitted, "but when it goes smoothly, it's one of the most satisfying parts of the race."

I nodded, absorbing every word. "It sounds like such a team effort. I never realized how much went into it."

"Exactly," he said, clearly pleased by my interest. "It's one of the things I love most about racing—the teamwork and the camaraderie. Everyone has to be at their best for the team to succeed."

We continued to share stories, the conversation flowing easily. I told him about my vlogging adventures, from the hilarious mishaps to the rewarding moments when a video resonated with my audience. Oscar listened intently, asking thoughtful questions and laughing at my anecdotes.

As the night grew later, the atmosphere around us became more intimate. We moved closer, our shoulders almost touching. The moonlight glimmered off the water, casting a soft glow on Oscar’s face.

"That sounds amazing," he said, his voice low and warm, his Australian accent adding a melodic lilt that sent shivers down my spine. Every word he spoke seemed to resonate deep within me, his low vibrato giving me butterflies.

I smiled, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "Thanks. It's not always easy, but it's definitely worth it."

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch was light, almost tentative. "I can tell," he said softly, his accent making each syllable feel like a caress. "Your eyes light up when you talk about it."

My heart skipped a beat as his hand lingered on my cheek. He leaned in, and before I could fully process what was happening, his lips brushed against my cheek in a soft, lingering kiss.

"You’re really something, you know that?" he murmured, his lips close to my ear. His breath sent shivers down my spine, his accent making the words even more intoxicating.

I felt my cheeks flush, a smile spreading across my face. "You’re not so bad yourself," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. The way his accent rolled off his tongue was doing things to me I hadn't anticipated.

Oscar’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "You know," he said, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper, "I've been wanting to kiss you all evening." His accent made the confession sound even more alluring.

"Is that so?" I asked, my voice playful yet breathless. The butterflies in my stomach were fluttering wildly.

He nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. "Absolutely. You’ve been driving me crazy with that smile of yours," he said, his accent making the words feel even more intimate and personal.

I laughed softly, feeling a mixture of flattery and nervous excitement. "Well, I guess I'm guilty as charged."

He leaned in closer, his lips now brushing against my ear. "Maybe we should make a habit of this. I like seeing you happy," he whispered, his accent sending delicious shivers down my spine.

My heart raced as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "You’re pretty good at making that happen," I admitted, feeling a surge of boldness. The way his voice, with its rich accent, played over my senses made me feel something stirring inside.

Oscar’s grin widened, and he reached for my hand. "Follow me," he said, his voice filled with playful promise. His touch was electric, sending a thrill through me as I placed my hand in his.

"Where are we headed to next?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. I was clearly blushing and super happy, unable to hide my excitement.

Oscar’s smile widened. "A yacht," he said simply, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

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yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, francisca.cgomes and 220,018 others

yourusername: finally, date night!

view comments

user1: i'm going to totally pretend that your now "chill" caption truly encapsulates how you are feeling (you were freaking out on priv earlier)

oscarpiastri: priv??! let me follow the account @/yourusername

yourusername: priv... what are you talking about i don't have a priv

oscarpiastri: 🧐🫵🏻

francisca.cgomes: what a beautiful girl 💋💋

yourusername: you're talking! babe you ae so beautiful as well 💋

oscarpiastri: are you flirting with my girl @/francisca.gcomes???

user2: MY GIRL SJIJSJORJDSS

user3: that's so alpha male of you oscar

yourusername: so what if she is 🙄

oscarpiastri: i've had her for less than a day let gooo 😥

francisca.cgomes: idc 🙄🙄

charles_leclerc: children please stop fighting

pierregasly: @/francisca.cgomes ... babe what about me

user4: LMAO KIKA NOT ANSWERING BAHAHA

user5: mawmaw yi pawpaw

liked by yourusername and oscarpiastri

user6: guys i just happened to be at the same resturaunt as them tonight bc of a family dinner and let me tell YOUUU, they were so flirty with each other omg. like i sat at the table adjacent to their left so i got a birds eye view of all of the blushing. like he kept intentionaly touching her hand and stuff it was so cute 😵‍💫🫠🥰

user7: landonorizz you got some competition @/landonorris

user8: yeah lando, i fear oscar may have more rizz than you

landonorris: 🙄👊🏼

user9: call him, oscarizz...?

user10: 💀💀 nahh that didn't hit LMAO

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 628,100 others

oscarpiastri: i took her to my penthouse and i freaked it

view comments:

yourusername: NO OSCAR THE CAPTION 😥😥😥

yourusername: HE DOESN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT

yourusername: OSCAR AND I DIDN'T FUCK

oscarpiastri: exactly, a gentleman never does such thing on a first date

yourusername: WHY IS THAT YOUR CAPTION NOOOO

oscarpiastri: people are not misunderstanding 🫷🏻🫸🏻

yourusername: OSCAR THEY ARE MISUNDERSTANDING IN THE COMMENTS

yourusername: I DID NOT DO SUCH DEED

user1: i love how y/n is literally freaking tf out and oscar is chill

user2: LMAO i can just see the cartoon silly steam leaking from her ears everytime oscar does anything

user3: god i don't even know if i want to be her or oscar

user4: i choose both.

user5: THEY FUCKED??? 😡😡🤬🤯🤯🤯😰😰😰😰🫨🫨🫨🤐

user6: oscar MY MAN the caption feels a little... sus

user7: had to clean my glasses to reread the caption

user7: because y/n's beauty was genuinely blinding me

user8: aight oscar who wrote that caption 😵��

user9: ignoring the weird??! caption, they look SOOO CUTE UGH

yourusername: TYSMMMM <3 (pls ignore the weirdass caption yes, yes pls do that)

user10: LMAO

charles_leclerc: ...

oscarpiastri: father, please look away

yourusername: oh!- so NOW your embarassed

charles_leclerc: sending a screenshot of the caption to your mother brb

oscarpiastri: i hope you are reffering to alex

charles_leclerc: no, i definitely mean nicole

oscarpiastri: DELETE DELETE DELETE

logansargeant: bro your cooked

charles_leclerc: "OSCAR JACK PIASTRI" - what your mom said, she said it, not me

charles_leclerc: "HAVE SOME MORE DECORUM YOUNG MAN" - nicole

charles_leclerc: "TREAT A LADY WITH RESPECT"

oscarpiastri: ma'am yes ma'am 🫡🫡🫡

yourusername: god i love your mom @/oscarpiastri

yourusername: ty for doing me a service 🙏🏼🙌🏼 @/charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: no problem, a future leclerc-piastri deserves the best 🫡

charles_leclerc: (you better wife her up)

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oscarpiastri posted on his story

caption: i finally got my dream girl her dream bags 🫶🏻❤️🧡💙

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

author's note: ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾 (part THREE yay or nay?!)

793 notes · View notes

jasmines-library · 9 months ago

Note

Hi. Um... i have been craving angst

👀 and my angsty mind has been making up... scenarios, but like would love them typed out so i can read 💀 i live your work, p.s. <3

anyways, would like to ask for something along these lines:

reader is a batsibling

is kidnapped

fam cant find her for a few days and is panicked

they find her somewhere, blindfolded and tied up, on the ground and caked in blood

they get her some med stuff and whatever

and they're like how did this happen so they somehow get cctv or duke uses his powers or something and finds out that they've been beaten for info

and they get like really angry and all that jazz

:D rest up to you!

would be great if you did it ��

but i understand if it's too much

love youuuu 💖/platonic ehe

okay, i will excuse myself from your asks now. byeee

Loaded Silence

hello hello! Thanks for requesting. This was super angsty, but as you put I crave it too... ❤️

Warnings: Kidnapping, Torture (not very graphic), fear, medical scenes.

Word Count: 1.5k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

It had happened unexpectedly. You were there one second and gone the next. In a blink of an eye. Nothing more nothing less. That was all it took for you to slip away. Damian could have sworn he was only gone for a minute. To stretch his legs and grab something to eat. But that was all it took for them to sneak in. Quiet as a mouse they crept in, splitting through the open window at the back of the room. Leaving it open had been a careless mistake, but who was to think that you would have been taken in the safety of your own home?

They grabbed you roughly from behind. A set of rough hands pinning you to the sofa, clamped tightly over your mouth as another worked to tie a heavy bandage around your eyes. You had squirmed feebly trying to gain some leverage. Your training desperately tried to kick in but at that moment, you were not a vigilante. You were Y/N Wayne: A citizen, child to the wealthiest man in Gotham and utterly fucked.

You had no choice after that than to allow them to drag you downtown, you had kicked and cried blindly, desperate for one of your brothers to chase after you. But whoever was gripping you tight enough to bruise was clearly experienced and you knew that they stood no chance so unexpectedly.

When they tossed you down on the ground, you thought it would offer some relief. The room was dank, dusty and smelt of water rot and mould. This was the part where they would send a ransom note to Bruce and he and your brothers would come charging in sooner or later. But you had never been more wrong.

“We know who you are, Wayne.” A voice spoke. Feminine but not soft spoken. Threatening. “Or would you prefer Raven?”

Your stomach dropped as bile burned the back of your throat. You knew you could fight now, but you were defenceless weaponless with your hands and feet bound together.

“The fuck do you want?” You spat, though the effect of the venom in your words was lost for you looked so helpless.

“Bold of you to speak to me that way, given your predicament.” The woman chuckled, prodding you with her foot. “You’re here as a sort of…payment.” She mused. “I suppose you could call it that.”

“What?”

“My husband.” She started, moving away from you. You could hear her pacing around the room but you could only conjure up images in your mind. “Leader of the greatest crime suricate in Gotham. And now, he’s dead. Rotting in some coffin in the ground, thanks to your father.”

She moved closer again. Her heels clattered against the floor.

“He took away the only thing that ever mattered to me!” She gripped your wrist, lifting you up off the floor and leaning into your face. “So now, I’m going to take away one of his toys until someone tells me how to get him out! His precious little girl. Oh how I can’t wait to see the look on all of their faces when they see you. That is of course…after we have a little fun.”

There was still no sign of you. And it felt as if they had searched every inch of the city. The high and the low but still nothing. No one had slept much in the three days you had been missing. Their nights were either spent searching for you on patrol or laying awake staring blankly at the ceiling as their minds conjured up the worst. None of them said it outloud but the possibility that you were dead loomed over them. But no one ever said anything. They just continued to search in silence. It seemed like Babs and Tim hadn’t torn their eyes away from the screens since Damian came barging into the room three days ago, doubled over and panting as he revealed the news. The only time they ever moved was to head to the bathroom or to make another mug of lukewarm coffee.

The rest of the family were out on patrol. That was what they were calling it anyway. Really they were looking for you. And still there had been no sign until Dick stumbled upon a window. It was low down to his feet covered by concrete as though the building had just sunk into the concrete. And when he tried to peer inside, it seemed to be covered by something on the inside.

It could have been nothing.

But Dick was desperate.

He called over the other vigilantes with a signal on his com. They all came tricking over towards him silently through the city. Some bubbling with hope and anticipation, but all dreading the worst.

Moving around the back of the house, Dick pushed open the door.

You had never been more scared in your entire life. Everything ached, burned or stung. From what you could feel there didn’t seem to be a single inch of your skin that wasn’t covered in blood. It clung sticky to your skin, cracking every time you managed to bring yourself to shift against the floor.

She had continued her onslaught for hours, trying to force answers that she knew you would never be able to give her from your chapped lips. She would leave every once in a while, returning silently to catch you off guard with another round of pain. You couldn’t see her: the blindfold still remained firmly around your eyes, so you had to anticipate when she would return as you cowered against the back wall in a pool of your own blood. You were unsure how long it had been since she tossed you into the room. Without the relief of sunlight, your woozy mind had lost track of time.

And then a pair of hands gripped your shoulders. And you screamed, trying to recoil away from them. You didn’t make it far. Your body was too weak.

“No! No please! No more!” You begged, tears dribbling down your cheeks to mingle among the dirt and blood. “I already told you I-I don’t know anything! Please!”

“Woah, woah.” It was Dick’s voice that broke through to you, though they had all called out to you. It was him who had reached out to you in the first place, hesitant that the smallest touch would break you. As soon as they were met with resistance they knew you were here. And they fought as fast as they could to get to you. Praying that they wouldn’t find you as you had. Sprawled out across the floor in a pool of your own blood as you struggled to breathe. “It’s us.”

“We’re here, Kid.” Jason leaned forwards to remove the blindfold from your eyes as Dick tried to support you in his arms. You squiremed weakly, still untrusting. But the minute the blindfold was off and you had finished adjusting to the onslaught of light. You broke.

You collapsed into Dicks arms, sobbing and shaking. He cupped the back of your head with his hands and held you, giving Jason and Duke a nervous glance. Your blood had already begun to stain the front of his suit as you whimpered in his arms, clinging to him tightly.

When he tried to shift you, you let out a sob and clung to him tighter. He wasn’t sure if it was because he had hurt you or because you were scared he was going to leave you. Probably both.

“Y/N?” Jason whispered, moving to crouch by your side. “ We’re here now. We’re going to get you home okay? Can you tell us what happened?”

You shook your head and buried your face into Dicks chest trying to block out the pain.

Eyes turned to Duke who watched you with sad eyes. They observed as he surveyed the room, taking in the horrors that the light revealed. And he couldn’t help the gasp that slipped out of his lips.

He paled at what he saw. Winced at the way your face contorted with pain as the woman towered over you, tossing you about the room like a ragdoll and slashing you with various tools as she screamed at you. He saw how she would catch you off guard by sneaking up on you in the dark as some cruel game to satisfy her sick amusement. He felt sick.

In the time it took for him to see the echo of your agonies, Dick had managed to coax enough for him to stand so they could bring you out of the room and get you urgently to medical attention.

The two looked at him expectantly. And once he had managed to stutter out what he had seen, Jason was tensely clenching his jaw and fists.

Someone was going to bleed tonight. He was going to make sure of that.

Taglist:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

@harleycao

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runariya · 1 month ago

Note

ABO kook who is super protective of his girl and finds out she is going into heat around other guys

part of the prompt game pairing: alpha!Jungkook x omega!female reader genre: fantasy!AU, ABO, established relationship warnings: boxing JK, JK's protective, foul language, OC goes into heat around others, allusion to seggsy time word count: 684

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It’s a day like any other. Or so Jungkook thought, as he winds down after work at his gym with boxing, like he does every evening.

And, like every evening, you’re nearby, doing your own workout—mostly cardio, which he’ll never understand the benefit of, and some stretching, which he very much understands the benefit of. He hasn’t looked at you in the last half hour, too caught up in sparring with Taehyung to lose focus like that.

Seeing you in your tight leggings and sports bra never did him any good, and he’s sure as hell that if he’d sneaked a peek for even a second, he’d either get an unwanted nose job courtesy of Tae or, even worse, a public boner. But it’s not much of a problem, not when he’s already mated to you, and your scent is prominent throughout the gym.

“Focus,” Taehyung pants, while Jungkook barely dodges a punch.

“I am.”

He’s not.

Something’s changed in your scent, but he’s not sure what. It’s like a hint of something sweet has been added to it, something he knows all too well but can’t quite place without proper concentration.

“Bullshit,” Taehyung growls, landing a relatively light punch to Jungkook’s side, still knocking the wind out of him.

“I need a break.”

He really does, and Jungkook’s more than thankful that Taehyung lets it slide, the other Alpha usually not this understanding during their training sessions.

“You smell that?” Tae asks after they both sit down on a bench at the side, cracking open their water bottles for some much-needed hydration, sweat now soaking not just their skin but their clothes as well.

“Yeah, it smells kinda fam—”

“Jaykay! Yo! Your lady’s upstairs, in heat!” Jin calls down from the stairs, one of the few other Alphas Jungkook’s actually close friends with.

“Oh, hell no,” Jungkook mutters, standing up, his right eye twitching as he stomps towards the stairs, water bottle forgotten and falling still opened to the floor. He should have seen it coming, should have recognised the smell of your heat the second it reached him. But, obviously, he didn’t—and now shit’s about to go down.

The other werewolves—or more specifically, Alphas—who frequent the gym aren’t exactly known for thinking straight when a female goes into heat. Especially when it’s a beautiful Omega like you, no matter that you’re already his.

As Jungkook takes the stairs three at a time, his inner wolf takes control of his mind and body, more than livid at the prospect of you being harassed. If even a single wolf so much as looks your way now, that’ll be enough for Jungkook to start breaking bones.

It doesn’t take long for him to reach the second floor, where treadmills and steppers are lined up, with you at the far end, pressed against the wall. Jungkook’s inner wolf howls at the sight of you—drenched in sweat, breathing a little too fast, surrounded by Alphas like you’re a three-course meal.

“Move.” Jungkook roars as he makes his way towards you, your pair of perfect, glittering eyes immediately locking onto him. It’s like Jungkook could part the crowd of Alphas with just one word—everyone scrambles away, desperate to make it out of the gym alive.

The moment the path clears, you bolt towards him, your tiny, burning frame wrapping around his neck and middle as you jump on him, inhaling his domineering scent like a drug.

“Kook,” you whine lovingly into his neck, nuzzling the mark you left on his skin, but Jungkook can’t tear his eyes away from the Alphas who were mere seconds ago standing beside you. He sends each one of them a warning glare as his strong, calloused hands wrap around your back and ass, pulling you tighter against him.

“Let’s get you home.” He can’t suppress the low growl in his voice, and as you grind your clothed cunt—barely covered by that thin layer of fabric—against him, he knows you’re all his. Though reinforcing it wouldn’t hurt. “Gonna make you fucking scream my name, babe.”

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kyxhiin · 14 days ago

Text

Shazam Family confusing the JL and immortal Billy combo post! (The Shazam fam will only include Freddy, Mary, and Billy. Sorry guys)

The Shazam Family confuses the JL by alot. And by alot it means "Cap' what the hell, what do you mean she's still alive??? HALF OF HER BODY IS GONE!" kind of way. For instance

The JL are on a mission, fighting some alien made robots that can "harm" the shazam fam so they had to be extra careful with this one. Mary Marvel was punching down these robots easily with Captain, until one of them got her from behind and.. BLASTED HER UPPER HALF OFF??? Marvel held her half limp lower half body, but despite all the blood was hollow?

Captain Marvel: Oh.. That can not be good. *In a super calm voice that can only be compared to adding too much water when cooking instant noodles.*

All the JL if not most stopped what they were doing and looked at cap and now the completely if not all with a solemn expression with a tinge of disgust. Flash approaching him first because, he's the fastest.

Flash: Hey man.. Are you alright? *He said, knowing no medical care could save her. CAUSE HER UPPER HALF IS GONE!*

Captain Marvel getting up, throwing Mary Marvel on his shoulder his smile returning but not as big as before: Upsy daisy! Sorry flash didn't meant to worry you all, let me just get her fixed up and she'll be ready to go. I'll be taking the rest of the day off.

And just like that he speeds off into the distance, holding the body parts of what once was Mary Marvel. Everybody's expressing their condolences from the day before for Captain Marvel, all dressed in black (except batman, he's always dressed in black.) with condolences gifts like letters, money (wait does he even need money?), food, flowers, and other sorry gifts.

...

Wait.. Is that Cap? AND IS THAT MISS MARVEL???? WHAT THE #!$!#!@#!?

They all aprouch Cap and Mary and start talking. Why aren't they mentioning the day before? Why are they both acting like everything's okay! And just like that nobody talks about it ever again.

(Does this count as immortal Billy? Lol, if not I'll re-do it. But now to the Freddy part.)

Captain and Jr have been arguing, arguing alot because SOMEBODY ate somebody else's banana bread muffins. And here's a thing, Cap's nice and happy go lucky to everybody, literally everybody including the villains all the time except for.. his children (That's what the JL assumes, lmao.)

Captain with his hands doing the sock puppet thing while Jr was talking to him: Nananana, that's what you sound like right now. Just admit you ate my muffins!

Green Lantern approaching Captain cause he overheard some of the stuff they were saying to eachother. Nudging Marvel to get his attention: Dude, hey. I don't think you can say that to your son-

Jr immediately cutting in cause he heard what Hal said cause he refuses to be called in any shape or form being younger than Marvel (it's the only thing he has against that tractor of a man when he's in his Marvel form, let him have this): Hey! I'm his OLDER brother thank you very much!

He said, loud enough so everybody can hear it. And the JL just stop their conversations and what they were doing, Just to look at Cap and Jr.

Hi hi, hope you enjoyed this even though this is not my regular posting schedule!!.

#dc universe #dc #dc comics #dcu #batman #billy batson #shazam #captain marvel #detective comics #green lantern #hal jordan #the flash #barry allen #mary marvel #mary batson #freddy freeman #captain marvel jr #fawcett comics #shazam family

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ygslvr · 7 months ago

Text

Jealousy, that shit gon' eat your heart out

Ony x Afab Reader

Word Count: 2,015

Just me talkin: This a “lil short” sumsum i thought of while making my gojo ff and this is also the first ever thing imma put on this platform so treat this shit with love and be nice bc ian scared to cuss a ho out okiii byyeeee hugs and mfkn kisses

Warings: Language, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP and uhhh just alot of shit read with caution fuck 🧍🏽‍♀️

Summary: You And Ony go to his neighborhood to visit his grandma and him to hang around his fam just for a bitch to be all up on him and grind on him and he don't do nun bout it but thats okay you will

“Alright Ma we almost there,i need you need you to please be on your best behavior” He squeezes your thigh to emphasize his please

If youre being honest you hardly heard him bc you were too busy staring at how FINE and DIVINE your man looked i mean cmonnn now he had on his jewelry,chains and studs, look so good on his ass. And he was in a white tee with a black jacket and black sweatpants and made that shit look good asl. Ou the things you could do to him ouuuu the things the things mannnn you can just su-

“BAE”

You snap out of you lil trance you was in “huh, oh yeah yeah you know i got class i could neverrrr”

“Mhm” he rubs your thigh and pulls into the neighborhood

“You're the one i need to be telling that” you say as you pull down the mirror to check out your hair and makeup before yall get there. Ony looks over at you with a confused expression. “What?”

“Dont what me bitch yk i look good” You look over and start caressing yourself and moving your hair out the way so he can see your outfit

“Chill out with that bitch shit yk how i feel bout dat shit” He lowers his voice on the last part

“Mhm i know baby can get sensitivveee” you say in a baby voice making a concerned face while patting his shoulder

You arrive at his folks house and they is boominggg. I mean,lil kids running around in the front yard, old heads on the porch watching the kids and cars that pass by, a bouncy house for the kids, and you can just smell the good ass food from the driveway. Ony watch you get out the car and you both start walking to the house.

-Imma skip some bc while i was editing I noticed half of this was useless talking making my word count go up so I deleted it..🤭-

You're sat down by Ony’s Aunts and female cousins talking about any and everyone. You can see where he gets his chill demeanor from all of his fam is cool asfk. Ony is sitting next to you with his hand firmly on your thigh,chopping it up with his uncles cousins and friends. Somehow their convo gets to dice and they get up and go to shoot some. As ony is leaving he kisses you on the cheek and tells you he’ll be back and after that y'all could go then he kisses you on the lips and leaves.

“Oooo you got him hooked in lovee honey i never saw him this tranced” One of his aunts say as she pats your arm

You giggle and turn towards them “I dont get what you guys mean, does he seem that in love with me?”You smile

They all collectively say ‘Hell Yeah’

Everyone was vibin and you and his family just choppin it up talking about everything and anything. Ony and his people back there loud playing dice, dominos, and spades just cursing,slamming stuff , and loud. But it aint mind yall it was just a cozy time bonding with his family that's until as one if his aunts is talking she looks behind you and just trails off then the rest of his people turn around and looks and all collectively start to gape in that direction , so you decide to turn around and see what's happening. You turn back when you don't see anything but people, you give them a confused look and one of his Cousins explains “You see that girl with red highlights that just walked in and making her way to ony? Well that was one of ony coulda been girls they talked and prolly even hooked up we dont know but they was close as fuck people thought they were dating but ony hard denied it thats how close.” You turn around and look and by the time you do she alr made her way to the table they was at, you turn back “Not to be rude but they used to be close so why yall so shocked she here” you said smiling.

The worst that could happen is that they still talk just recently stopped talking or he crazy about her or sumn but nahhhh ony aint stupid he know you batshit crazy like yo mama

Another cousin of his continues “He aint tell you girl? That bitch is bat shit crazy but Ony being the nice boy he is never told the hoe about herself, like he should of but hey imma hold my ones with that.”

You give a confused look

“GIRL HE REALLY AINT TELL YOU?! Well miss thang be all up on facebook and instagram posting him claiming they still together using pictures from like 3 years ago even said they got a baby together the baby is one…. girl….like give it up”

One of his other cousins chime in “And ony being a lil bitch dont tell her shit telling us to ignore it and she gon shut up but nu uh that hoe is still going and ion think she gon sto- uh oh?” She stopped when she looked behind you and everyone eyes followed including yours just to see the girl all up ony in the seat right next to him. Like she had her leg over one of his and touching his arm they whole package and wtf was ony doing? Smilin and telling her chill … this nigga want you to be on first 48…

Like him having an old fling? Ok as long as they not still doing shit, especially behind yo back. The old fling came to his family function after he cut her off? She crossed a line not a thick one but its whatever don’t cross the thick line and you good. Being all up on my nigga and feeling on him like he yours and y’all engaged. Bitch you need to move immediately. THAT GOOD FOR NUN ASS NIGGA JUST SITTING THERE SMILING??? Ok bitch you think im stupid and ima a soft ass hoe playing on my fucking top.

You turn back, dig in your purse for your perfume spray sum on you and tell his family to excuse you and that you'd be back. As you get up you grab your drink in case that bitch try sum. You sip on it as you make your way to the table ony. As you're making your way to him you don't take your eyes off him and eventually he looks at you and the look in your eyes makes him have a confused expression. You dont know if this nigga confused on what you finna do or if he confused why you looking at him like that. And you dont know why his good for nun ass is confused, unless he acting dumb…. Ouuu you finna fuck this nigga UP

You make it over to his seat and kick that roach’s leg off your husband and ever so politely sit on his lap. You hear the girls in the back CACKLING , you don't mind that the Ony wanted you to behave oh so bad before yall pulled up giving you that bitch ass speech in the car just to come act like this. So you do what your man said and behave. And you look over to that fishy ass tramp next to him.

“ Hi, I’m Ony’s Girlfriend, Soon to be fiance . I SEE y'all are pretty close so i decided to come over to introduce myself”You smile big and hold out your hand to shake hers making sure to show off the big ass promise ring he got you that can practically be an engagement ring.

Bet he aint get yo cricket booty ass nun like that before huh bitch?

The bitch is looking at you like you took her granny cane, slapped her mama, and hexed her whole family line down to the newborns. “Uhhh…” You say as you look at your hand waiting for her to acknowledge it. After 2 more seconds you put it back in your lap not bothered by her, fixing yourself on Ony lap. The aura is still tight but his family try to loosen the vibe and start back their dice game. “Nu uh bitch you gon have to get the fuck up.” The whole backyard went dead. You look at the ho then start looking around because she couldn't possibly be talking to you. Nahhhh she was talking to someone else. She needed to be talking to someone else because this bitch was playing with water and electricity. Because you finna light her ass up, nah she wasn't talking to you impossible nahhhhh. Then she grips your arm and snatch you up, “ i dont know why yo ass looking around im talking to you get off my fucking husband”

This bitch don lost her fucking mind… NAH FUCK DAT SHE WASNT BORN WITH ONE OBVIOUSLY.“Listen here trick if yo sour pussy ass don't let go off me i know sum”

Ony soft bitch ass in the back talm bout sum “Chillout, sit yall ass down” He makin you mad the more his ass does sum. But you ain't even worried about that. You take one last sip of your drink and chuck it at that tramp. Beaucoup people jump up and others watch making noises. But nah fuck dat you finna handle this ho. You cock back and punch that bitch just throwing hits not even caring if you hit the ho or not, but you are TRUST. She start hitting back and yall end up on the ground, you ain't gon lie this bitch hitting hard so you make sure to hit harder. You just thowin the bitches hitting her in the titty and her face. Until you get pulled off and yall get broken up and Ony holding you, as one more rebellion you kick the bitch and spit on her. “ ALRIGHT CHILLOUT. STOP” Ony say as he start to carry yo ass out. You think you did too much til you hear his aunts and cousins hyping you up and tellin the rest of the fam to let that bitch stay on the ground. You don't get to hear it for long as ony throw you in the back seat and lock the car as he go back to get y'all shit.

You just sit there bc aint no point in running back and finishing that hoe you already don showed her ass a whole new world. It's over now so you just sit back and fix yourself. After a good 5 mins you finally hear Ony come back and hear him apologizing for your behavior over and over again. He gets in the car and looks at you through the rear view mirror. He sighs and starts the car and pulls off to take yall home.

It’s been a good 15 minutes of silence before you decide to speak up. “Yo punk ass had her all over you so don’t blame me.” You say looking in the mirror for his reaction. He looked up and started pulling the car over.

OKKKKK IMMA END IT HEREEEE BC IM TOO SCARED WHEN I WRITE SMUT ITS GON BE BAD BUT IMMA LET YALL IMAGINATION RUN WILD and if i get free time this week maybe a part twoo???

#onyankopon x black!reader #aot onyankopon #aot #aot fanfiction #onyankopon x black y/n #ony x black reader #aot x black reader #black plus size reader #𝐋𝐕𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃

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ifangirlalot · 11 months ago

Note

finn comforting and praising thick!reader while they fuck n hes so soo rough while he talks her though it hhhfhhfhfhshs ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

can i be ur 🍥 anon :oo

┊ ➶ ��inn wolfhard x 𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓿𝔂!reader ｡˚ ° | !!𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏!!

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖕 & 𝖕𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖊 | afab!reader, creampie, curve fetish, praise, spanking

Love Note From Zee ;;

welcome to the filth fam, 🍥 nonnie!

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Finn raised his head from between [Name]'s perfectly rounded thighs, his red lips swollen and wet from sucking on her wet, juicy cunt. He had been there now for God knows how long, he had lost count after her third or fourth orgasm. He had such a hard time resisting the soft thickness of her body, but it got so much worse whenever she let herself wear short skirts with halters and cute little heart shaped clips that left sweet indents in her soft skin.

Finn's hand stroked the skin of her thigh for a few moments before he suddenly smacked his palm against it. His cum-dumb baby let out a gasp as she jumped slightly, causing her thighs to jostle and jiggle in the most charming way. The corners of his mouth tugged upward into a lopsided smirk.

His teeth sank into his bottom lip as his hand continued stroking, slapping, and groping her sweet thighs. God, he loved those thighs. He loved seeing the skin there pink and marked in the shape of his hand. Loved watching the skin jiggle about. It was just the cutest.

"You've been so good, dolly," he cooed, raising himself up to his knees as his hands went to his waist to unhook his belt. "But, I think you can be even better. Just pull your pretty little legs up there and I'm gonna fuck you 'til you can't see straight, 'kay?"

[Name] mewled and did as she was told, her hands reaching up and curving beneath her thighs and pulling them up so they were resting against her lush bust. Her skirt folded upward, giving Finn an even better, more wide view of her pussy. Her pussy lips were pink and coated with sticky cum from her last few orgasms. Poor, dumb little baby had been violently tongue fucked to her breaking point so many times, she couldn't even speak when she was spoken to.

But he liked it that way.

Finn smiled innocently, as though he wasn't about to violently fuck her into oblivion. "Good girl. Just stay right there for me." He unzipped his fly and folded down the waistband of his boxers. As he moved himself over her, he had to be careful with the way that he pushed his dick in her. Too quick and he'd cum as soon as his tip parted her sweet cunt. Those curves, that soft skin, they'd have him shooting out hot ropes of sperm before he could thrust.

[Name] whined softly, her legs quaking as he thrusted slowly for a few minutes. He quickly had enough of that shit, though, and gradually slid from grinding to pounding. He gripped her neck firmly enough to place pressure on her throat, but not nearly hard enough as to have her gasping for breath. He could hear the loud pap pap pap from her wet cunt as he cock abused her hole. [Name] was squealing and moaning and whimpering beneath him, drool dribbling from her plump, wet lips.

"Oh, that's a good girl," he praised, his voice gruff but gentle despite the rough movements of his hips as he stretched her open again and again. He took his hand off her throat and grabbed her thighs, readjusting them and pressing them against his waist.

"Come on baby, give me a squeeze. I wanna hear my bones popping." Finn demanded, rearing back and shoving back into her rougher than he had been doing. [Name] moaned loudly and did as she was told once more, her thighs pressing hard against his hips. He groaned and threw his head back. His dark hair was damp with sweat as his eyebrows furrowed from the pleasure. "Fuck, that's it, atta girl…"

He gave a couple more hard shoves into her sopping wet pussy before he slowly pulled out. She let him know of her disapproval by letting out a whiny mewl.

"Hush." Finn said, gently yet firmly, as he smacked her thighs, leaving yet another hand print on her skin. He wrapped her hair around his fist like a horse's rein and flipped her over with one swift movement. He moved the skirt up over her again and pressed her face into the mattress. Once he pulled her hips off the ground, he smirked and slid himself back in again, continuing his sexual abuse where he had left off, this time with his fingers roughly digging into her lush hips as [Name] let out muffled, pleasured sobs.

He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep it up without spilling into her. He had to make it count. He grunted with every thrust back into her, his movements steadily becoming sloppy and uneven. Finn bent forward, tangling one of his hands into her locks again as he doubled his speed. Finally, he felt the knot in his navel unravel as he spilled hot rope after hot rope of seed in her sticky hole. One look between her legs told him she'd already came once before, as the white liquid trickled down her thighs and dripped to the soiled bed sheets. He must have been too caught up in ecstasy to notice.

"Good girl.. oh, you're so good.." Finn whispered breathlessly as he slowly pulled out. "Next time, I want you to get off on my head."

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jonesywrites · 5 months ago

Text

I feel compelled, so I must.

*Now with images for context

Man I shit you not, I have so much stuff to do like SO MUCH but I also have ADHD and a tendency toward hyperfixation so I am compelled, I tell you.

I'm writing for a whole ass other ship, filming, and editing for my YT channel. But I saw gifs, and I read tweets, and I saw hot takes and then I decided to react to Season 3 Part I for my channel.

I AM OBSESSED.

I'm in the middle of editing my reactions to Ep 1-4 and I just HAVE to chime in with these observations I keep having as I go through and re-live each Polin scene while editing. I know some of this has been seen/said before but I'm a newb to this fandom and I just finished listening to all of the audiobooks (save Simon and Daphne's story) so I just gotta! I OBSERVED A LOT and there's a lot here, so . . .

Colin turns to the Featherington house as soon as he arrives home and greets his family.

Because whether he's aware of it or not, he's thinking of one of those Featheringtons, who happens to be standing there as he debuts "the new Colin" to the people he cares about the most -- which includes Pen, they are telegraphing to us in this moment -- (right after testing some of that newfound charm on a gaggle of giggly girls). I don't think he greets her right away because he isn't ready yet but you can see his smile/smirk when he spots her -- like "Yep, Pen, feast your eyes, it's the new me, and NOW I'll bet you'll want to hear about my travels."

Eloise is the first person to spot that he may not really be into this "new Colin".

The show GOES OUT OF ITS WAY to let you know this isn't really Colin, that his heart isn't really into it, from jump. The siblings Bridgerton do a little "we see each other" when he questions her about trying to fit into society after all this time -- they're two sides of the same coin. He's too sensitive and romantic for the rakes of the ton and she's too independent and free-thinking for the boring trappings of the marriage mart, but here they both are. Pretending.

Colin goes out of his way to test his new charm on half the ladies at the Queen's garden party thing BEFORE he approaches Pen to talk for the first time since he got back -- at first glance he's just doing his thing, being the new him, enjoying himself and his new ability to woo the ladies but IT IS THIS AUTHOR'S HUMBLE OPINION THAT HE WAS TESTING HIS CHARM TO ITS LIMITS BEFORE HE WENT OVER TO THE ONE GIRL HE ACTUALLY WANTS TO/TRUELY ENJOYS CONVERSING WITH TO LAY IT ON HER.

Wanna bet me he wasn't thinking about Pen while he was away, wondering why she wasn't answering, plotting to talk to her when he got back, plotting to see if his new charm would work on her because she's Pen and her opinion means a lot to him? He doesn't get why yet but it's there -- the tip of the iceberg, only a strong desire for her attention and approval right now, but I can sooooo see how that started to quickly burn into a much more intense desire for just...her.

I adore how Penelope asks the dressmaker for new dresses in the fashion of "what they are wearing in Paris" after Colin tells her his new wardrobe is what's all the rage in Paris from is travels.

He always counts on her just being Pen in the citrus colors hanging on the wall, a safe place, but then he sees her in that green dress and I truly believe this is the moment he realizes -- nah fam, this isn't just "Pen my friend who doesn't count (as a woman)", this is "wow who is that woman in the striking color with pretty lips and fiery red hair?"

This poor lovesick fellow has no idea why every time he sees her at a ball his heart does a funny thing and he suddenly can't see anyone else and he gets the urge to drink whatever's in his hand/close by.

HEY BABE IT'S BECAUSE YOU LIKE HER. A LOT. She isn't just Pen who doesn't count, she is SPECIAL.

Much has been said about the "Goodnight, Mr. Bridgerton" scene, but I'll just add that you can tell when Colin is being genuine and totally himself vs when he's trying to charm her into relaxing with him/being more like her usual self.

When he says "the colour rather suits you," he's being her good friend who is pleased to see her looking so good but he's also saying that to himself, judging by his tone, like "yeah girl you should wear green more often, this makes you look damn good". And when he says he misses her, he means it, but you can also hear the armor of that New Colin Charm in his tone. It's a vulnerable thing to admit, so he uses a devilish smile and has a wink in his eyes because so far that has worked on every girl here since he got back. Not Pen, though ... he was SHOOK when she rebuffed him and called him cruel.

Yes, he is absolutely panicked that he might lose his one true friend in all of the fickle ton, but also . . . Colin is totally realizing how hot Pen is in the garden scene. Colin is looking into her gorgeous eyes and admitting how she makes him feel and you can see the real-time realization in his eyes/expression. Handshake? He is acting on his impulse to touch her while using his newfound charm to disguise his curiosity.

Colin wants to hang out with her as much as possible because that's how comfortable and appreciated she makes him feel but also it's my opinion that he, at least subconsciously, also wants to keep looking at her, getting closer to her, winning her favor. He's not even thinking about the results of the whole charm lessons thing, he's just thinking about being around Penelope as much as possible because of that realization that she makes existing in a world that is determined to misunderstand him (and has "forced" him to don a mask/facade to survive) bearable.

I agree with those who pointed out that he is taken aback by Pen's awkward flirting session with the fan because normally when they're alone talking all he sees/experiences is her wit, intelligence, keen ability to read between the lines of their society, etc.

Also, you can see he doesn't even care what the other blokes think of her, he thinks she's friggin adorable -- he can't keep the smile off his face even as he's sympathizing with her for going down faster than the Titanic-which-doesn't-exist-yet-duh-but-analogy-with-me-here.

Every moment of the private lesson scene, from him instantly abandoning the card game with his siblings to the way he planned out the whole thing and thought about where everyone would be and what window of time they'd have to "practice" shows THAT HE WAS IN FACT VERY EAGERLY AWAITING HER VISIT for their lesson. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one who suggested the game in the garden to get everyone out of the house in anticipation of Pen’s arrival.

It is this author's humble opinion that Colin really, really wanted to pretend to flirt with Penelope to satisfy his nagging, subconscious (yet fluttering to the surface) curiosity and I AM WILLING TO BET MY TWIN SISTER'S WHOLE 2024 SALARY that (especially after her compliment shook him to his core) they wouldn't have made it much longer without him kissing her if they hadn't been interrupted and she had't read his journal.

He wanted alone time, he wanted intimacy, he wanted to flirt -- they would have charmed each other right into each other's pants if those lessons were allowed to continue, mark my words.

Colin's body was at least several weeks ahead of him. The body doesn't lie. Touching her skin in the garden. Leaning into her whenever they speak (with the convenient excuse of their height difference), pressing his palm into her lower back to escort her to the drawing room, sitting and letting her hold his hand for an unnecessarily long pause before forcing himself to stop staring at her and end the impropriety (escape the intensity of the moment to breathe and process, more like).

Jealous Colin(tm) with his intense eyes and hard jawline is everything and hot af, end of observation.

I love Dream Pen for Colin. The way he dressed her. The way his mind envisions her being breathless for him.

The way he pictures himself just holding her close and indulging in hot, sultry kisses until she's practically melting in his arms. THIS IS WHAT HE DREAMS ABOUT, WHAT HE TRULY WANTS. This boy is a Romantic with a capital ROMANTIC and I JUST LOVE how his dream about Pen reflects that so clearly. We've seen him struggling to pay attention or care in brothels but he displays more sexual intensity, passion, and lust in this romantic wet dream about simply confessing his feelings than any other time he's seen on screen with a woman he's supposed to find attractive.

The "Sweet Treats" scene, as I believe I've seen others pointing out, is --yes, sweet-- at a glance. But also HOT AF. He's pining, he's nervous, he's jealous, she's so sweet and lovely confessing her excitement and hopes for the match with Deblin. But it's also hot b/c I meeeean....The pink everywhere (pink walls, get it), her lips and his reaction to her glancing her tongue across them, his fingers flexing out of nerves but also the subconscious urge to touch, maybe even caress, is all in his stiff, hovering body language. Like, if he could shove those treats off one of those tables, throw her against it and ravage her "sweet treat" right then there in that pink little tent, homeboy totally would have if society/propriety/scandal/watching eyes weren't a concern.

SIDENOTE: I think Deblin was definitely attracted to Pen, it wasn't SOLELY a practical match for him.

He says she can make men wither within seconds of their first meeting and he definitely looks at her in a way that says he's charmed, intrigued, impressed, etc. So I think even they married, eventually he would start to miss her while away, then ache for her, then he would come home to her and he would fall. Gradually maybe, but I do believe Pen was right to hope love could grow between them. However, I'm so so sooo glad neither of them settled.

WHAT CAN BE SAID ABOUT THE CARRIAGE SCENE THAT HASN'T ALREADY BEEN SAID??? It's one of the hottest love scenes I've ever seen, and it's not because everybody is naked or because there's kink or anything crazy. It's because (for me) the actors TRULY CARE ABOUT THE DETAILS. Almost every frame has something you can freeze and stare at in awe, they DID THAT. Colin finally FEELING IT, with the one person who can truly see him and inspire those deep feelings he's been yearning for was HOT AF. Pen basically being at his mercy but also realizing her power over him and embracing it by letting him ruin her because it's COLIN (she wouldn't let anyone else do that, IMO, not even Deblin). MY FAVORITE PART:

At the end, when they exhale and slump into each other/the carriage seat in sync. She looks like she's never felt anything like this in her life (cuz she ain't) and he looks like he's finally HOME. And I'm not talking about his family's estate -- I specifically mean right there in Penelope's bosom, between her legs, her breath, her eyes, her moans for him, like he looks relieved and satisfied AND THEN HE'S LIKE "SO I'M NEVER LETTING THIS GO. DONE DEAL, YOU'RE MY PENELOPE, NOW."

Ugh. I loooove this couple! I HAD TO GET THIS OUT OF MY BODY. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. Gonna add stills for the moments I mention once Tumblr stops being a bitch.

#polin #bridgerton s3 #penelope x colin #colin x penelope #pen x colin #observations from a crazy person

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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years ago

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Hey gorgeous,

Would you be up for some angst ?

Maybe his niece (rhaenyras younger sister) was always the negleted child and after sometime she gets to be known as one of the greatest targaryens (she claims cannibal and is a beast when it comes to fighting and being a ruler) and she comes to the last dinner before her father dies and sleeps with daemon (who previously in her childhood made her feel worthless)

And when she avoids him after, he goes to her and shes like:

-Just so you know, that meant nothing

-what if it meant everything to me?

-not my problem

All I Ever Wanted

Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: The gods have weighed the scales, now you were only paying everyone their dues. It felt nice to hold the upper hand against your uncle for once.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: mentions/depictions of targcest (uncle and niece), fem!reader, mentions/allusions to sex, angst, bad fam relations, typos, etc.

A/N: idk im tired i hope you like it nonnie. i changed a bunch of stuff about the fic req so T_T i cant believe i managed to make it so long HAHHAHAHH Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony

Daemon could not believe it.

He could not believe that he woke up by himself.

He was soaking in his smugness, dripping with self-accomplishment and victory, eagerly rolling over to coo his musings of self-importance to his prey.

Yet you were gone.

And he did not understand it.

He did not appreciate the bile that was threatening to be regurgitated out of his pallet. A line grew between his brows as he ripped his blanket off. He roughly dressed himself in breeches and a shirt, then stormed out of this chambers.

Part of him was relieved to find you so quickly, another part was in pure offence to how nonchalant you acted in the gardens, eating a pear as you read a book.

"Skoro syt issi ao kesīr sīr early isse se ñāqatubis?" Daemon cut through your concentration on your page. You turned to him halfway through his sentence, full mouth slowing in its chewing.

"What do you mean 'why are you here so early in the morning', uncle?" you narrow your eyes, shaking the hanging foot from your crossed leg. The heavy, red velvet of your skirt barely moved at your actions.

Daemon walks over to you, unkempt long, platinum hair blowing with the morning breeze along with his loose shirt, "you should have woken up with me."

You watch him as he nears. When he reaches the bench you were sat upon, you bring your book to your lap, one hand in between the pages of where you stopped reading, "and why should I have done so, uncle?"

The tone in which you say this with simultaneously angers and excites Daemon. He adores a good challenge. You both know that.

The prince reaches out to your face, tilting your head up to him, "I'm not done with you, niece."

You roll your eyes. He chuckles as you stand.

You thoughtlessly discard the core of the fruit to the side and release your grip on your book in order to clamp it under your arm, "iksis ziry daor obvious bona iksan tetan lēda ao?"

Daemon stills. He watches as you, his sweet little niece, defiantly staring at him. You spat such words as 'is it not obvious that I am finished with you?' to him? Your uncle? Your star? He who you viewed as holy as the Seven you were so devout to? No. This surely was a jest. A game of cat and mouse.

Daemon's lips curve into a lopsided grin. He opens his mouth to join in the banter, and yet he was not given an opportunity to speak.

"I will leave now, since you're clearly persistent to bother me," you coldly say, moving past him in all audacity.

A scoff actually leaves him because of this. He catches your arm, lowly and dryly chuckling, "rūda lēda aōha tymptir, byka genes."

Quit with your game, little mouse.

"I'm not playing, and I'm not a mouse," you snip, pulling your arm out of his grip.

Now you were both looking at each other with furrowed brows, equally long and light air wafting with the wind.

"I got what I wanted from you, Daemon."

You word this so plainly, so carelessly, and yet it pokes at him, makes his insides churn.

"I've scratched my itch. I've satiated my curiously," you release the tension between your brows to contort your face into scorn, "I've unraveled you, and found you're just another man-- greedy, self-absorbed, and cannot show for all the talk they give."

Daemon scoffs, eyes narrowing. He steps closer, raising his nose as he lets your words get under his skin, "it is too early to toy with me like this."

The eyeroll you give strikes a chord in him as you mutter, "ah, kepus, ao sagon getting uēpa. Ȳdra daor ao jiōragon ziry?" Oh, uncle, you're getting old. Don't you get it? The hardness in his face falters when you continue, "there's no game between us. There's nothing."

Daemon pulls his head back. No. That's not you.

You slowly shake you're head, ratifying, "Iksan gaomagon lēda ao."

I'm done with you.

But who were you?

Last night, the young girl he used to braid the hair of burst into the hall, uninvited, with purpose. His decaying brother, Viserys, and the Hightower bitch was shocked, even your sister, Rhaenyra, was. Daemon, though, was amused by the the theatrics and whispered this your ear, telling you that you copied him.

It was clear when you replied, "except I was not exiled, uncle. I left and returned on my own will. Something you have never done and never will," that you were not that little girl anymore.

He watched you as you moved, as you carried yourself in the room with not a hint of reluctance. You came as... a woman. A woman.

His breath caught in his lungs as you recounted your stories with your beloved Cannibal, much to the aghast looks of others. He was not one of those who laughed at the notion your frailer version gave of claiming the dragon, and yet still, he could hardly believe the words that you surely uttered by your bitten lips himself.

Oh, your lips that then mused more private stories for his ears only later that night, your lips that he then took between his teeth even later, and that he then made to call out his name in the early mornings.

Who were you now?

That woman was not here. You were not the warrior that claimed the dragon, the vixen that clamed his soul, and, sure by the gods, not the little girl that claimed all eagerness to please everyone around her.

Who were you, you who was looking down at him, as though it was not he that read you bedtime stories, he that gave you treats under the banquet table, he that make you come undone beneath him last night?

How dare you discard him?

Daemon regains his gall, "I'm not done with you, niece."

You don't even look at him when you say, "I don't care," and walk away with that stupid book in your hands.

His nostrils flare. "Don't you fucking walk away from me," he quips, unwilling to chase, unwilling to bend or beg.

He watches as you make your way farther.

Against himself, in a brand of desperation, he hastens after you, grabbing your arm, pulling you back to face him. He heaves at your idle gaze, "you've worn my patience."

"It's only fair," you purse your lips, "you worn my time for nothing."

One of Daemon's eyes twitches.

"Bullshit," he chuckles.

You shrug and it enrages him.

It is bullshit and you both know it. And yet somehow, he's beaten to the punch again. He's left defenseless before his little niece and it's ripping at his seams.

"I honestly expected more from you, uncle," you pout, "but then again, I only thought so highly of you because I was a naïve child, just like you said I was all those years ago."

Daemon could not even respond as you hypnotize him by pushing his hair behind his ear, "I've met many men whilst my travels with Cannibal. Though I did appreciate your company, I'm sure you'd agree last night was as lack lustre as it was for me, right, uncle? Since you'd had a great many women yourself."

He watches you as you lean in. He can see the sheen, smell the remnants of pear on your mouth.

This was a trap. There was no real answer. He's been choked. You knew this. And now your lips were curving up.

"Your mind games don't work on me, child," Daemon finally gets to speak.

You laugh outright. You grab his arm as you sigh, "what? Is it so scary to reply to my words you evaded the question altogether?"

In another world, he'd have gone red faced at your words, but no, your mind games don't work on him.

But, oh, it does.

You got him piping like a kettle.

"Just so we're perfectly clear, uncle, so that I am certain we're on the same page," you clutch your book into your chest, "know, that everything, last night, meant nothing to me."

He speaks before he thinks. He can't even hate himself for it because he speaks like he can't even hear himself, "what if it meant everything to me?"

You knit your brows. You scoff out a chuckle, "now who's playing, Daemon?"

His breath audibly hitches. You hear it. You smile, "that's not really my problem, now is it?"

You horribly, so, so gently rub the pad of your thumb on his lips. He freezes as you turn back. Daemon watches you walk away for the second time. This time, he does not run after.

#daemon fanfic #daemon angst #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon x reader #daemon x you #house of the tragon fanfic #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen #daemon smut #daemon #daemon fic #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen angst #hotd angst #daemon x targaryen!reader

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twstjam · 1 year ago

Text

Lost Invitation (Part 2) - Respond, if you please

Sorry, I said half an hour, but blocking people took a bit longer than expected <3 Starting from now I'll be blocking everyone who likes Lost Invitation without reblogging it. If you reblog it onto a sideblog and I've blocked your main, do tell me or you might miss out on updates!!

Characters: Malleus Draconia, Meleanor Draconia, Levan Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver (brief), Sebek Zigvolt (mentioned), Yuu (mentioned) Word count: 4.6k (sorry, I got carried away writing the draconia fam lol) Summary: You're committed to helping Riddle Rosehearts and his card soldiers in a war against followers of the Jabberwock looking to usurp the rulers of Red and White. You're also in love with a stranger you met in the woods who wants you to run away with him. Whoever said that love and war weren't so different might've been onto something. In your experience, they're both equally difficult. Nobody ever said that you had to choose between one or the other though. Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Prince Malleus Draconia is not lonely.

He hasn't been since before he hatched, his mother had made sure of it. He has faded memories of dozing off to his mother's soft singing, listening to his father's long ramblings, and curling up in the safety of the right-hand general's presence.

After hatching, his mother had doted on him like any prince of the Briar Lands deserved to be. Her and Father had indulged his every whim and desire. The servants bowed and trembled before the wrath of a newly-born dragonling who, though only three feet long, snarled his grievances accompanied by licks of fire and brewing snowstorms. Lilia Vanrouge was the only one to not kneel so easily.

Malleus Draconia was a prince and a hatchling, but Lilia did not treat him as such. Lilia scolded him like he would Mother, a matured dragon, and only complimented or rewarded him when he earned it. Needless to say, he was not favored amongst the little prince's guardians… or so Lilia says as he laments on the times Malleus used to set his hair ablaze. It had enlightened Malleus as to why the general currently wears his hair so short as opposed to the portraits he'd seen, but the prince—as it is the nature of fleeting old memories—cannot vividly recall his caretaker's tales. They also struck him as incredibly odd and he concluded that as an infant he had been a foolish thing (despite his parents' insistence otherwise). After all, Lilia is his most favored caretaker. This favoritism had even led to Malleus seeking Lilia out when he had hidden himself away one day, giving the prince the honor of being the first to meet the general's adopted son.

Silver had been an enigma to him. How could a meek little human infant, a species which his mother mocked frequently for their weakness and stupidity, appeal to a hardened fae general? It was even stranger to him that Mother seemed to completely forget her disdain for humans when she saw the little bundle in Lilia's arms. Though he would never say it aloud, Malleus had felt betrayed when his mother had asked to hold the child and took him from Lilia eagerly.

This little… thing, could not even hold itself up or eat solid food, let alone seek it out itself. It was useless and weak and nothing like the fierce creature Malleus had been when he broke out of his shell. Or at least, that's what Malleus used to think.

Truly, Malleus must not have been as exceptional of an infant as his parents insist. Malleus had spent 20 years crawling, meanwhile Silver mastered walking on two legs in mere months. Instead of cawing and snarling, the child babbled and laughed, elicited smiles from those around him, made warmth swell in Malleus's chest when he called the prince's name for the first time. The boy had still been small, not even 5 years old, and yet he had been able to climb up Malleus's legs and sit on his lap when he had invited him to read with him.

Sebek exhibited similar speed in growth. Malleus had blinked, and suddenly the little halfling had risen from a screeching newt into a strong guard that rivaled his own grandfather. Sebek likes to shadow him, always quick to see to his every need and always eager to win his approval. It's overbearing at some points, but the boy is growing and learning and has come to put his loyalty to use for only matters worthy of it, learning from Lilia and Silver to not merely agree to Malleus's every breath.

The revelation for such a change brought all four of them closer. It's not rare to see the two young knights by the prince's side, the former general watching after them from not far off.

Suffice to say, Malleus Draconia is not lonely. Absolutely not.

As a matter of fact, he quite likes being alone; the peacefulness of isolation, the escape from his demanding responsibilities. He has to return to the castle at some point of course. He has duties to his kingdom, but no matter how brief, he takes the opportunity to have some time for himself. To have some time to indulge his desires instead of being Prince Malleus; to be away from the expectations of his subjects and parents and instead cater to only himself.

He never quite expected to meet someone searching for something similar. At the very least, not at the same place, and you continued to surprise him in ways he could have never imagined.

After all, who could have predicted that a revered dragon prince of the fae would fall in love with a human?

----

Perhaps to any other, days at Wild Rose Castle could be considered dull, either because of the dim lighting and black walls or the castle staff that always hurry by without a whisper of a breath and with bowed heads.

If one were to ask Malleus however, he would say that days at the castle are always hectic. It's a good day when the castle is serenely dark and gloomy, but on others…

"Your DISGRACE of an offspring is a pathetic sprite unworthy of my son! How DARE you even consider a courtship between them?!"

Lightning fills the throne room with a bright purple light. Three aristocrats yelp and scramble to avoid the strikes of lightning coming down from the ceiling. Princess Meleanor's glare is deadly as she lifts and aims her staff to bring down another volley of lightning.

"P-p-please forgive us for our transgressions, your excellency!" the patriarch weeps as his family collapses to the floor in frantic bows. From his throne, Malleus can see the family's young heir trembling with choked sobs. His mother isn't the least bit appeased, her glare hardening and her staff crackling with power.

"ENOUGH! I will not tolerate any more nonsense out your blabbering mouth! You have come into my home, insulted my son, and dirtied my floor!" Meleanor raises her staff with a furious snarl. The magic surrounding it strikes the ceiling and deflects into multiple bolts of lightning throughout the throne room. "GET OUT OF MY SIGHT AND DO NOT DARKEN MY DOORSTEP EVER AGAIN!"

The nobles scramble back onto their feet and skitter out with fearful screams. The wails of Malleus's attempted suitor echo through the halls of the castle until the doors slam shut behind them.

Meleanor raises her head proudly, huffing a satisfied plume of smoke out of her nostrils. Beside the sighing Lord Levan, Lilia Vanrouge has his head in his hands.

"What nerve, to ask permission for our Malleus's hand whilst showing such disrespectful behavior!" Meleanor spins around with a flare of her cloak and seats herself on her throne, one leg crossed over the other. "I should have incinerated that child where they stood!"

"I'm quite certain your outburst had spoken the message quite clearly, my lady," Lilia says with no small amount of disapproval.

"I agree with Lilia." Malleus's mother whirls around to face him with a betrayed expression on her face. "It is no fault of theirs that I failed to give my full attention to them. They had every right to call out my rude behavior."

Meleanor scowls and tosses her head again. "If you exhibit overly courteous behavior then those stuck-up aristocrats will become too comfortable to speak ill of you. As a dragon, you must present yourself as one!"

"That courteousness is the only reason the staff does not perish within breathing distance of him," Lilia argues. Meleanor shoots him a glare but he isn't deterred. "The poor boy already has issue forming relationships. Your volcanic temper is not doing him any favors."

"I will deal with those interested in the future king of the Briar Lands and my son however I wish! In case you have forgotten, I am your princess and his mother!"

"He is 178, he is not a hatchling, Meleanor!"

"Regardless of his age I have no intention of allowing him to be mistreated or his heart to be broken."

"At the expense of others?!"

"Yes!"

"Ah, there he goes."

Meleanor straightens up from how she had been bent over to glare at the short general and they both look over at Levan. They follow his gaze and briefly see Malleus's tail slipping out of the throne room.

"Darling!" Meleanor gathers her skirt to dash after her son. As Malleus makes his escape, Lilia groans and slumps over the arm of Levan's throne. His friend pats his back in sympathy.

"You really must do something about that wife of yours," Lilia grumbles. Levan laughs nervously, but there's also fondness in his eyes.

"She is simply doing what she thinks is best for our son."

"It isn't and you know it is!" Lilia huffs, craning his neck to glare up at the lord. The corvid fae smiles sweetly and leans towards him with his elbows resting on the armrest.

"Have I told you how much cuter you look when you're angry?"

Lilia sputters, face turning vibrant red. "Be serious!"

"I am serious," Levan hums as he reaches to tuck some hair behind Lilia's ear. The other general swats his hand away and he laughs at the flustered pout on the smaller fae's face. "I pity those nobles, truly I do, but like you and I, I have a feeling our Meleanor knows that our young prince is keeping a secret. So at the end of the day, there is no harm done, hm?"

Lilia gapes and blinks at Levan in bewilderment.

"He told you?"

Levan smiles secretively, a hint of mischievousness in his eyes. He must know as much as Lilia does then, and though he is relieved to know that his friend is supportive of Malleus's feelings, he still dreads the inevitable of Meleanor discovering it for herself. Meleanor is both temperamental and viciously protective of her child, especially since his life had been threatened after she laid his egg during the human invasion centuries ago. It's quite easy to imagine her most likely reaction to her son being interested in courting a human.

"He did. He also requested assistance from me." Levan looks up and his eyes brighten. "There it is now."

Levan waves his hand. Lilia's keen ears catch the sound of beating wings and he turns around to see a window opening. A raven flies into the throne room and settles on Levan's offered arm. The bird caws a greeting to Lilia before bowing its head to the lord.

"Welcome back, my friend," Levan coos as he strokes its wing. "What news do you bring from the Rose Queendom?"

Lilia perks up at mention of the Rose Queendom and looks at the bird with interest. The familiar makes a series of clicks and squawks. Lilia isn't the most fluent in corvid speak so he waits for Levan to translate, but when he looks to his friend, the other fae's smile has turned into an ominous frown.

"…It's not good news, I'm guessing."

----

Malleus typically finds comfort in isolation. It brings him the silence he requires to think and focus on both official and personal matters. Unfortunately though, for his current predicament, his most trusted method of comfort only seems to distress him more.

The conflict between the Rose and Lily Queendoms is taking it's toll on you. It's inevitable—He sees it a lot in Father and Lilia, how their gazes would sometimes look haunted by ghosts unseen to him even when doing the most mundane tasks —but that does not mean Malleus has to like it, or that either him or you should simply allow it to wear you down.

Sometimes, when he is speaking with you, you would get a faraway look in your eyes, lost in thought. During those moments the bags beneath your eyes look more prominent, your body thinner, your skin paler. You would apologise for losing track of the conversation and Malleus would excuse it, but within his chest a pit grew deeper and deeper, filling with irrational concern for you.

The desire to hoard and care for those most cherished to him isn't a foreign feeling to Malleus. He recalls that at a young age he would nest with his parents at night and steal Lilia and his father's weapons to stop them from leaving the castle for their duties. Now, he watches over Silver while he sleeps and sits at the water's edge when Sebek practices his swimming.

It is something normal for dragons to want their loved ones happy and safe, but the way he feels it with you is incomparable. He cares for you, (which had initially surprised him, to care for a strange human) there's no doubt about it, but more than anything else he wants to be the one to care for you, to ensure your safety. To take you away and tuck you inside his wings, to gift you all the luxuries you could ever need so that you would no longer be hurt or troubled.

And the strangest thing? He desires the same thing from you as well. For you to care for him, cherish him, want him, love him. For you to take his hand and let him whisk you away to somewhere the two of you could see and speak to each other every day, where you could sit and listen contentedly to him and him to you and help him with his woes like he wishes to help you with yours.

Confiding in Lilia had been what led him to realise his feelings for you. The older fae's recollection of his parents' courtship had been… concerning, but it reassured Malleus that his desires were not unusual and that, most importantly, his beloved caretaker accepted you.

It had taken more courage to approach Lord Levan, but he should have known that his understanding father would support him wholeheartedly. At Malleus's request, his father had sent one of his ravens to the Queendom and Malleus now spends almost every waking moment anxious for its return.

Telling his mother about you is… another matter entirely.

You were right that it wouldn't be wise to bring you into his home. He loves his mother, but like him, she possesses the nature of the dragon. She is caring, excessively so, and… incredibly protective, to say the least.

And to say that Malleus is fearful of her discovering his romantic feelings for you, a human—a race she loathes with her entire being—is an understatement.

You are fearless, perhaps a little foolish, but not saneless. She will chase you off as she has many others. The incident today was only one of many.

Regardless of his mother's ill manners and your reluctance to be with him, Malleus's heart does not stop yearning and yearn he does as he sits alone in his rose garden, innocent red rose in hand, plucking each poor petal after the other as his thoughts whirl around his mind uselessly.

Perhaps he should have been more insistent. Perhaps he should have taken you back anyway. Perhaps—

"Malleus?"

The click of his mother's heels on the garden's stone path grow louder with each approaching step. Meleanor appears beneath the rose arch to the gazebo and Malleus hurriedly brushes off the petals that have gathered on his lap.

"There you are. I have been looking for you, dear." Mother smiles as she walks up the steps of the gazebo, the long train of her skirt dragging behind her. She eyes the rose petals scattered around him. "What are you doing?"

"Ah. I am picking rose petals… for tea." His mother raises an eyebrow at his reluctant tone so he quickly diverts the topic. "Am I needed somewhere, Mother?"

"No, no." Meleanor sweeps up her cloak to that it isn't trampled beneath her when she takes a seat next to him. "I was merely worried." With gentle claws, she cradles Malleus's chin and lifts his gaze to hers. "I did not scare you, did I?"

"No—" Never, he wants to say. Even if she can summon the most destructive storms and move mountains with a snap of her fingers, Malleus can never be afraid of his mother, but the churning feelings in his gut lodges the words in his throat.

Malleus pulls away from her touch, looking away before he can see her frown. "I apologise, Mother. I exhibited behavior unbecoming of a prince in front of our visitors."

Instead of reprimanding him, his mother laughs. She's always so self-assured; with her magic, with her choices. It's one of the many things he admires but also envies about his mother. If only he can reach that point of confidence in his life much sooner.

"My silly little beast. There is nothing to apologise for," his mother coos, brushing a lock of hair out of his face with a careful talon. "You did no harm. After all, you have been so distracted because you already have your eye on someone, don't you?"

Malleus turns towards his mother, wide-eyed, and her eyes glitter with excitement as she grins.

"How did you—" Malleus stops himself. How is he supposed to tread this? "…Did Father tell you?"

Meleanor's smile falls. "No, but I am hurt you chose to tell him before me."

Malleus swallows. He laces his fingers together in an effort to make himself feel less unsteady. "How do you know, then?"

"Come now, you didn't think a mother would not be able to see that her son has fallen in love, did you?" Meleanor giggles behind her claws, eyes bright with eagerness. She leans in towards her son and lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Tell me, tell me; what are they like? How did you meet? And most importantly: When will I meet them?"

Malleus opens his mouth and pauses. What does he tell her? Every scale on his being is restless, eager at the presented opportunity to talk about you, but certainly, he cannot tell his mother about you. About your humanity. She would, as Lilia frequently describes it, erupt. He did not need that display from earlier in the throne room to know this well.

(He grew up all his life with it after all; His mother losing her head at every slight insult or threat towards him and striking it with bolts of lightning until it runs away screaming.)

Malleus does not fear his mother, let alone resent her, but he does rather often catch himself wondering what it would be like if she were not so hot-headed.

"They are…" Malleus quickly trails off as soon as the attempt begins. He glances at his mother warily. She is giving him her full attention. The support should be encouraging, but the dread within him only increases. "You cannot meet them."

His mother reels back as if he had shocked her with electricity. Her eyes widen and then narrow. Her brows furrow and her lips pull into a displeased pout.

"Whyever not? …Are you ashamed of me?"

"What? No, of course not!"

"Embarrassed, perhaps?"

"Far from it."

"Then do you fear that I would scare them off?"

"Yes— Ah, I mean—!" Malleus screws his mouth shut and looks away again. Meleanor chuckles in amusement.

"Silly beast," she tuts. Behind him, Malleus's tail thumps agitatedly and she twines her own around it to soothe him. "I am flattered that you think so highly of me, but I assure you that any mate worthy of you will not cower so easily before me."

Malleus wraps his tail around his mother's offered one, but his expression is one of scepticism. "How do you know for certain? Do you truly have so much faith in my choice of a partner?"

"Oh, of course not! You are still just a little beast after all," Meleanor teases with a light pinch to his cheek. "What I mean is that, whoever you choose, we shall know if they are truly the correct mate for you if they remain beside you regardless of any trials."

"Oh… I see…" Malleus lowers his head. He clasps his hands tightly together. He can still remember the phantom feeling of your own hands on them, of you pulling away from him. Of him watching your retreating back after once more rejecting his offer to take you away.

"Darling?" His mother places her hands on his and the memory fades away. "Is something the matter?"

"I… I want you to meet them, truly I do, but…" Your face flashes before his eyes again, with it your shy smile and your voice whispering,

"Someday."

Malleus gathers his resolve and faces his mother. "Not anytime soon, I fear."

His mother pouts again. "Oh, come now—!"

"I don't think they would fear you." There's no way to know for certain until you actually meet her, but it is something he's fairly confident in. "It is that… they are currently occupied and will not be able to make time to come to our lands in the near future."

Meleanor's eyes light up with newfound interest. "Oh? They are not of the Briar Fae?"

Malleus bites his lip anxiously. "Er, no. They are—"

A bird sings overhead. The two dragons on the gazebo lift their heads and see a silver-haired knight walk through the rose arch.

"Lady Meleanor, Lord Malleus." Silver dips into a quick bow and rises again. "I apologise for interrupting."

"Oh, Silver! What a pleasant surprise. Have you finished your training today? Come, come. It has been too long since we last spoke." Meleanor beckons to the young knight to sit next to her.

"Er, if I recall correctly, we spoke just this morning—!"

Meleanor doesn't let him hesitate for long. She crooks her finger and wisps of purple magic tug on his uniform until he's standing on the gazebo.

"I apologise profusely, my lady," Silver stammers as her magic fades off of his clothes. "But I'm afraid I cannot stay long, my father requests to see Lord Malleus—"

"Does he!" Meleanor's eyebrows are arched, her expression devious in a way both boys know does not hold good intentions for their respective fathers. "How fortunate, I was hoping to speak to him about Malleus."

"Mother—"

"Lady Meleanor—"

Before either boy could get a word in, magic begins to swirl around the princess's fingers and she chants, "Come, my eyes and ears, my wings and feet."

Magic swirls and shimmers around her. Beneath her feet, her shadow ripples, and a raven bursts out of it with a frantic caw.

"Now why are you in such a hurry?" Meleanor tuts, easily catching the bird out of the air before it could fly off. The bird squawks and flaps its one wing that hadn't managed to be caught in her hand. She directs a firm gaze on it and it freezes, letting a pathetic noise out of its beak. Malleus winces in sympathy.

"Where is my Right?" Meleanor looks down at her shadow, displeased, but quickly smiles again when she turns to Silver. "Give me a hand, dear."

With them pointing downwards, Meleanor pinches together the thumb and forefinger of her free hand. She makes a pulling motion and a squealing bat emerges out of Silver's shadow. It manages to escape the princess's grasp on it but only briefly before she catches it by its legs.

The bat squeaks and screams, no doubt profanities blasphemous when directed at the crown princess, but she is unfazed. Silver looks down at the poor creature apologetically as it clings to his uniform in an attempt to shake off the dragoness's claws.

"What is the matter with you? Stop behaving so childishly. Look, your son is being much more mature than you, how embarrassing." Meleanor forces the bat to let go of the boy and holds it upside down, continuing to be unfazed as it claws at her lace gloves angrily. "You should know better than to ignore a summons from your mistress."

She shakes the bat in a not-so-gentle manner and the animal grows in size and changes shape until Lilia is hanging by the ankles. The raven does the same, but Meleanor lets Levan go so he can perch on her arm more comfortably.

"—the matter with you! You absolutely insane princess!" Lilia yells once he's finally taken his two-legged form again.

"Yes, you're very adorable, dear," Meleanor says dismissively with a pinch to his nose. Lilia hisses at her, but despite his complaints there's no real heat to them and he calms down quickly. "Now, my loves, when were the two of you going to tell me that a secret someone has caught our Malleus's interest?"

"I sincerely apologise, darling," Levan says mournfully, and any amount of aggression in his wife's expression fades away when he pecks a kiss on her cheek. "but it was not our secret to tell."

"Alright, I suppose I can forgive that. I'm sorry, dears." Meleanor looks at her son and husband fondly but scowls when she turns to Lilia. "Not you."

Lilia sticks his tongue out at her without remorse. With difficulty, he twists around to address Silver. "You've found Malleus! Well done, my boy."

"Thank… you, Father."

"What is it that you wished to speak to me about?" Malleus asks, tilting his head in an effort to meet Lilia's eyes. The bat fae exchanges a look with the prince's father and then glances at the princess holding him captive.

"Perhaps we should wait until later—"

"Wonderful, since I wished to speak to both of you about a different matter." Meleanor's expression turns into a deceptively sweet one that immediately has Lilia's face souring. "My loves, would you tell Malleus that you also desperately wish to meet this secret potential mate of his?"

She flutters her eyelashes for good measure. Malleus sighs and shakes his head.

"Mother…"

"I know what you said, but perhaps with encouragement from all three of us we can twist a few rules…"

"Actually, my love, what we wish to discuss concerns this… person." Meleanor raises an inquisitive eyebrow at her husband sitting on her arm.

"What?" All eyes turn to Malleus. The prince suddenly rises from his seat, pupils thinned to slits. Leftover rose petals scatter to his feet. "Has something happened to them?"

"I apologise, Malleus, but Lilia is right." Levan casts a quick look towards Meleanor and Malleus understands immediately.

Meleanor looks frustratedly between her son and husband, unhappy at being the only one uninformed. "Now what is this about? Why are you so reluctant to speak of this person within my presence?"

Lilia purses his lips, determined to not say a thing, meanwhile Levan looks towards his son again meaningfully.

Malleus takes a breath.

"It is what I have been meaning to tell you. Mother…" Malleus glances at Silver standing to the side, at attention. "Silver is a human."

Meleanor blinks. She looks at Silver, back at Malleus, and then bursts into laughter.

"But of course he is, silly beast!"

Malleus attempts to continue, but she doesn't stop laughing like it's the most hilarious joke she's heard in a century. He looks to his father helplessly. Levan gives him an encouraging smile but the doubt that twitches the edges of his lips isn't very reassuring. Meanwhile, Lilia sighs exasperatedly and Silver frowns in confusion.

"Well, Mother…" Meleanor keeps laughing and the longer the seconds tick by the more his confidence falters. Perhaps… If he says it now, she won't hear and she can remain in ignorant bliss. "This person I am in love with is a human as well."

The laughter stops so abruptly that the deadly silence sounds as loud as a crash of thunder.

"What."

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #malleyuu #meleanor draconia #levan draconia #lilia vanrouge #silver vanrouge #twst silver #sebek zigvolt #malleus draconia x you #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia x mc

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butterfilledpockets · 1 year ago

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Casey Jones teaches Casey Apocalypse Jones to be a teenager (TMNT 2012 x ROTTMNT)

(aka some doodles I spent far too much time on after re-discovering 2012 emo songs)

fashion advice, 12!Casey saw Jr still wearing his end of the world outfit and as muhc as it was "metal" he thought he could do better. It quicly became appparent to everyone else that he could not.

(MORE CLOSE UPS UNDER CUT)

Every Casey Jones shares one thing, they are part fo the fam (pre makeover, about to go into battle)

(fuck the 2012 turtles are so hard to draw) 12!Donnie secretely hoping he could snatch Jr, but now learns Casey was teaching him rebellion.

April spent basically the entirety of the early seasons of the show trying to save her father, she knows what its like to loose a father figure adn get them back 'different'. I feel like these two would really get along.

Leo walks in halfway through the makeover, is having flashbacks to Donnie's MCR phase and hurting (for people who struggle to read the text it has the lyrics to "dear maria count me in" int eh background, and "an ungodly amount of eyeliner" pointing at Rise Casey)

his training has paid off (let me tell you I spent way way too long looking for weird funny goth/emo shirts, if you guys have any PLEASE PLEASE drop them to me I wanna see what the internet as to offer)

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viamutationis · 3 months ago

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OH GREY WARDEN, WE'RE REALLY IN IT NOW.

ID in alt text, notes and oc infodump under the cut! PLEASE ask me about them they're my new babygirl of the week

Yeah. Ben-Hassrath Cousland is wild, I know. This was one of those 3 am thoughts that became a beloved oc and now they're my canon protag. Basically: She was being trained to be House Cousland's left hand to spy within the noble courts and intercept threats to her family's rule, and a large part of that meant being covertly sent to Orlais to train as a bard. Buuuut the bardmaster she studied under was an undercover Hissrad, and she wound up being converted to the Qun by her. Teenage Laurentia was in a spot where, like every kid, she was questioning the Andrastian beliefs she was raised with and all the unfair things she noticed in her society, so she was very open to the Qun.

Her role once she was sent back home was basically just to send reports detailing the inner workings of the Ferelden nobility and to be aware of any Tal-Vashoth activity in the area. Pretty benign shit, and the former task is what she was doing for her family anyway. Still recruited by the Wardens the normal way, via Duncan doing his "come with me if you want to live" shtick after the fam dies. None of the Blight Crew find her out save for Leliana, because Leli knows everything. She only reveals it to Sten just as he's about to hop on a ship back home LMAOOO.

They're genuinely very compassionate and sweet. A lil whimsical. Highly loyal and protective. Very lawful good (emphasis on lawful). It's a weird sort of internal reconciling - they are genuinely kind to most people and love listening to others' issues and helping them out. It just so happens that this makes them an excellent spy, because they're exactly the sort of person people feel comfortable opening up to, and they see no issue with passing relevant information on to the powers they spy for. The kindness is genuine, but it's also a tool, if that makes sense. Their duty comes before any attachments. On that Master Coercion grindset.

No romance because they're aro, but they do have a little homoerotic espionage cat and mouse goin on with Leliana (singing campfire songs and trading stories and braiding each others' hair included). They get along with all their companions besides Morrigan and Oghren, and even Morrigan is more just.. cordial passive aggression.

They exist in the same worldstate as my Orlesian Warden-Commander Gavriel! He's a veteran warden who joins them on the road after Lothering because his ass snuck into Ferelden to help the Wardens solo, and then he'll later become the WC while they become Arlessa because they have more political experience and he has more military experience.

They generally make the nicey nice choices, albeit not where magic is concerned, and even then it's purely out of an abundance of caution. They do NOT annul the Circle, they do that secret third option where you tell Greagoir there could still be blood mages so he puts the mages into quarantine and Wynne still joins you but the game counts it as siding with the Templars. They let Isolde kill Connor, rip lil dude. (Not like they have a choice, they would rather that than the blood magic anyway, but they kill Jowan soooooo.) Besides that, all nicey choices. Bhelen on the throne, Anvil destroyed, Zathrian reconciles and everybody lives, Ashes are not tainted, Loghain recruited, Alistair and Anora rule jointly, Gavriel and Morrigan know they'd never agree to the Dark Ritual so they do it behind Laurentia's back and nobody dies lmao.

Small notes on their disabilities: Wynne was the healer that did their cleft lip surgeries as a kid!! Their last surgery was when they were 6, so they do remember her :D & their hearing aids are lyrium-infused lazurite, the runes are all enchantments that combine to make it collect and amplify sound like an actual HA does. I love bullshitting magic technology.

Their mabari is named Princess, because they got her when they were 10, okay.

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look-at-the-soul · 1 year ago

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Behind the scenes- Peaky Blinders (Part 1)

Cillian Murphy x reader

BTS master list

Request

A/N: I wrote this to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the series… right on time before this day ends! I had to cut it into two parts because it got a bit longer… there are no words enough to thank each of you (the peaky fam) for what writing and reading has given me. This little project is really really special and I want to thank @notyour-valentine for tagging me in this request a while ago, thank you for your generosity Val, there’s a little gift between the lines for you. And for the help you provided for another part related to horses♥️

But also @heidimoreton for creating this gorgeous moodboard to go with this story! And my dear @holacia3 for the help you gave me too about horses and @forbidden-forest-witch this is for your belated birthday and the little surprise♥️

Word count: 4,745

✨ Summary: Join us at the stables as Cillian gets riding lessons for his iconic role as Tommy Shelby in the series Peaky Blinders. He came to learn all about horses, but he ended up falling in love not only with them.

During his career, he had played several roles, learned how to walk on heels for Breakfast on Pluto, about space for Sunshine, even played a part in a film that was close to home in “The wind that shakes the Barley” about the historic war between Northern Ireland and Great Britain.

Acting was such a treat to calm -in a way- his hyperactive mind.

He preferred to not answer what he wasn’t willing to do for a role, because he’d probably do anything.

That included riding horses. Which, in reality he wasn’t a bit familiar with.

He had never even been close to one in his life. His driving skills were so poor, how would he fucking manage an animal that big?

Yet, here he was waiting in the living room of the horses sanctuary located in a remote place of England he had never heard before.

The sighting was breathtaking, the air so pure, no city noise, it was quiet, calm, everything he was looking for before the storm started, he had never been on a series before and the mental challenges of this character was the biggest of his entire career, he had never met a man as complex and with so many layers as this Tommy Shelby he had spent weeks reading, the internal turmoil this man has been through after the war wasn’t his only problem, his background included a household with lots of family problems, taking care of his younger siblings while stepping up to build an ilegal business and endless enemies that he would encounter along the way.

Cillian was greeted by the teenager behind the desk and asked him to wait because the trainer hadn’t show up that morning and she rushed to call someone else on a radio.

“Someone will be here shortly, can I offer you something to drink in the mean time sir?”

Cillian chuckled at the sir part.

“Water would be great.”

Turning around, he was able to see through the window, finding a woman galloping at speed and coming down from the horse without really stopping with just a jump.

Seconds later, the same woman entered the reception out of breath and walked straight to the girl.

“Your horse trainer called in sick again.” Cillian heard the teenager say.

“Thanks Willow, can you help me reschedule the appointment with the bank?”

“Sure, Y/N. Will you also reschedule his sessions?” The teenager pointed at him.

Until now, Cillian had only being able to watch her from behind; petite but lean frame, she had black tight pants, riding boots and a cream jumper on, her hair up in a high pony tail cascading on her upper back.

But when she turned around, Cillian was lost for words as the most angelic face met him.

And he wasn’t one bit religious.

“Mr. Murphy nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.” She offered her hand firmly along with a smile. “Our trainer isn’t available today, please accept my apologies could we reschedule?”

He stammered, not knowing what to say.

“Y/N, you could show him how to ride too.” The teenager proposed.

“I thought you’d be on your way to school young lady.” Y/N raised her eyebrows at the girl. God she was just like her aunt.

“Whatever, I was just saying.” Getting her bag, she stormed from behind the counter. “Should I tell aunt Val dinner is cancelled?”

Oh no.

She knew that look, it was the same her aunt would give her.

“Honey don’t tell your aunt anything.”

“Bye auntie! Bye Mr. Murphy!”

“Sorry, so? I think one of our trainers comes back from a horse fair on Saturday if that day works for you.”

Leaning on the counter, Cillian decided to take a risk. There was something about her.

“I’m in a bit of a hurry, would it give you a lot of trouble if you show me?”

“Not at all! I just thought you wanted a professional trainer that’s all.”

He smiled and for an instant, Y/N’s heart skipped a beat.

“Right, well… follow me this way.” She lead the way outside of the property. “Is this some kind of bucket list thing?” Mondays were usually quiet days at the sanctuary, nothing like the weekends when they were usually packed.

Cillian walked next to her, hands inside his pockets. Unsure about how much to reveal.

“I need to learn how to ride.” He chuckled a little, the script was phenomenal and he was extremely excited about it, but until now he wasn’t able to talk about the project.

Y/N guided him towards the stables, he had seen a few in movies or the telly, but being there in person, it was another story, it was huge and his heart got too excited as his eyes found the horses.

“Do you’ve a particular preference for a horse?” Y/N asked curious about the hermetic man before her.

“Racehorses.”

Y/N turned around slowly to look at him. There was a subtle accent different from his voice, but she brushed it away.

Cillian tried to clear his throat, aware of the voice tone he just used, he was still practicing the accent and mannerisms he had been building over this new character.

“Okay… I can’t let you ride a racehorse if you’ve never been on a horse.”

“Why not?”

“Look, horses are just like people, they’ve their own temper, feelings, the know when we’re scared or aggressive, we don’t mess around them… I’d suggest you start with a gentle horse first.”

“You seem to know a lot about them.” Cillian observed the way she was caressing one as they walked.

“I grew up in this place, my grandparents started this sanctuary, my mother was the only child and she kept the family business, then it was my time to take over.”

“How long have you been running this place?”

“Since I was eighteen.” Y/N admitted. “This is Sally, she’s a good girl.”

Cillian observed Y/N’s moves, the way she approached the horses. And she showed him the right way to caress the animal.

“Can I touch her?”

Bringing the hose to her by the muzzle, she giggled. “She says you can.”

“What else does she says?” It felt soft and he noticed the way Sally was moving her ears.

“That she doesn’t believe you, horses are one of the most intelligent creatures.”

Cillian chuckled, accepting the snack Y/N brought over. He was fascinated by the level of trust she showed with each animal, the way each of them reacted, it was so true, as he was noticing little differences in each horse as their own personalities, it was amazing and as Y/N shared more details about the place with him, he found it was impossible to keep lying to her, she had such an energy that was so inviting, giving him a lot of comfort.

Y/N introduced him to all of the horses, caressing each of them, mentioning little details about their personalities or a couple of qualities. She seemed to know them all well and Cillian was marveled by the way each horse behaved with her. Y/N spent a good amount of time explaining him some of the basics.

“I think I learned how to ride a horse before I started walking, all my childhood I was eager to get out of school to come home and run straight to the stables. They’ve been with me through my worst moments, they own such a healing power humans do not understand about, they’re pure creatures… sorry, I’m boring you.” She mumbled feeling her cheeks burn.

“Not at all, I find it fascinating… the way you talk to them and about them, it’s magical.”

“Y/N! The foal is coming early!”

Y/N’s face went blank they still had a few week left. Turning to Cillian she apologized, but she needed to be there, so she asked Jonah the guy how took care of the saddles to show Cillian around while she was gone, but it could be hours.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, I’m staying at the small bed and breakfast that’s close.”

And he saw her run out of the stables, Jonah explained to him they built a small facility to those special occasions. The boy around his early twenties showed him the racks full of saddles and other equipment they used, he was surprised by all of the things they had around to use with the horses.

It was until around nine o clock when Y/N came down from the stairs, after taking a long bath, she had been so tired helping in the delivery that she just wanted a cup of tea and head off to sleep.

“Jesus, what are you doing here?” She gasped closing the robe tight against her body, she wasn’t expecting to find Cillian sitting by the window.

“Well I asked if I could use the books you’ve here and they said it was alright.” He smiled gently pointing at the pile of books he placed on the table next to him, an empty cup in the corner.

“You’ve been here reading since I left the stables?”

He chuckled a little, not aware of the track of time, he had been reading. “Yes, they’re fascinating.” He debated himself whether revealing her the truth or not.

Y/N threw him a puzzled look.

“You live here? Upstairs I mean.”

She nodded. “Yes, the house was so big so I turned the first floor into the main offices, the kitchen is in the back if you need anything.”

“Thanks, I’ve been looking around at the portraits, hope you don’t mind.”

Just as Y/N was about to answer him, a loud thunder echoed through the property. it was so loud it felt like the house would come crashing down. The sound of droplets of rain against the windows followed right after.

“I’d love to stay and talk about the books with you but I really need to go.” Y/N explained just as she rushed upstairs to get changed when she came back down a few minutes later, he noticed her hair was pulled back in a loose braid, cascading down her back.

“Wait.” Cillian stopped her placing his hand on her arm, “can I come with you?”

She was unsure because of his lack of knowledge, but Cillian seemed to read her mind. “I promise to stay back.”

“Okay.” She nodded and offered a rain jacket from the small closet next to the door.

“Is everything alright?” Cillian asked her with curiosity after getting in her vehicle to protect themselves from the heavy rain.

“It’s one of my horses… he gets pretty scary of this terrible weather.” She explained absently, holding the steering wheel with such force that made her knuckles turn white.

“Tell me about him.”

“Thunder is… special, he was born on a night like this and I know doing this sounds ridiculous, but how can I stand there and do nothing?”

She looked at him for an instant, all of her feelings right there in the surface for him to see and read. Cillian nodded, fighting against the lump on his throat that formed after detecting the passion in her voice.

In silence, Cillian followed Y/N inside the barn rushing immediately towards Thunder.

“There it is my good boy.” She started caressing the horse by the muzzle, gently. The horse was extremely agitated. “Everything’s fine… just a loud noise, you know that.”

Cillian found himself staring at her, unable to look anywhere else, he was under some kind of spell.

“Shh, shh.” She held the horse by the curb rein, -he now knew some of the horsemanship-. “Listen to me, Thunder.”

Marveled by her tactics and control over the horse, he couldn’t help it but start whispering a Romany poem he recently learned as part of the script for the series he was working in. Locking eyes with the beautiful animal, he felt like time stood still, it was as if the horse was going through every layer of his mind and soul and the rest of his surroundings faded away. Eventually, the horse started to give in, coming to a calm state.

“What did you do?” Y/N asked squinting her eyes. “It takes me ages to calm him down.”

Cillian shook his head, realizing the deep connection with the horse was gone but it was impossible to explain that it wasn’t him… it was his character’s nature. It was in his blood.

“It’s a poem.” He admitted quietly noticing the storm was coming down.

“In a foreign langua-?

“Thunder!” A boy stormed through the barn directly in the horse’s corral.

“Arlo what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“I thought Thunder might get scared.” He argued, poking his head in to make sure the horse was safe.

“You’re not allowed to come here by yourself in the middle of the night.” She argued.

“But Muuuum!”

Cillian’s heart skipped a beat.

“No buts, Thunder is perfectly fine.” She transformed into a completely different person. “We’re going back to the house right now.”

“Who are you?” Arlo gave him a look, a serious one.

“I’m showing him to ride a horse, focus… on the truck now.” She then turned to look at Cillian. “The only road that could take you to the b&b is probably stuck, it would be better if you stay at the house tonight.”

He wanted to argue, but judging by the intensity of the storm, she was right.

“Sure, thanks.”

She touched the horse’s nose a few times before closing the gate. Cillian followed them in silence, still moved about what just happened with that horse.

“How long are you staying?” Arlo asked Cillian from the back seat.

“A week.”

“What’s your favorite horse?” The kid asked.

“Arlo, it’s late and Mr. Murphy is probably tired.”

He shook his head. “Just Cillian please and it’s fine.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she saw Cillian giving her a wink and tilting his head.

Parking the truck, Arlo flew inside the house, leaving a wet patch on the floor of his footsteps.

“Boots and bed.” Y/N instructed with a firm voice. “You can stop by tomorrow morning to meet the new Filly.” Cillian saw her kissing the top of the kid’s head and the hint of a smile spread on her lips. “Sorry about that.”

“He looks like you. Must be awesome to have them help you around.”

Y/N made a face. “Them?”

“Arlo and his father?” Cillian asked in confusion.

And now she was moving her head from left to right. “There’s no father around, he left us after learning I was pregnant.” Y/N looked towards the stairs where her son disappeared a few minutes ago, shuddering. “Can I offer you some tea? It’s cold.”

“‘M sorry… shouldn’t have assumed.”

Brushing off the topic, she started the kettle and Cillian went back to feel extremely comfortable around her. And considering the personal revelation she just shared with him, he needed to be honest in return.

“I’m working in a project that involves horses, but like such a real passion for horses.” He ended up confessing after meeting all of them.

“That sounds interesting.” She admitted but decided to not ask further.

“Yeah,” Cillian ran his hand over the back of his neck. “I need you to show me everything about them… please. I’m portraying a character that involves a man that used to be in love with them, horses are a huge part of this man’s soul, it’s for a BBC series.”

Y/N turned with two cups in her hands, her mind trying to register his words.

“I-I’m an actor.” Cillian revealed after an instant. “But I need you to keep this between us because I signed a confidentiality contract and I could get kicked out of it.”

“Goodness I’m sorry, thought I had seen you before but I couldn’t remember where,” an adorable blush turned her cheeks pink, “I hope you understand I don’t go to the movies a lot, my whole life is this sanctuary and my son…”

“Please don’t even say it.” He chuckled. “I actually prefer it that way.”

“I think the last movie I saw you in…” Y/N stared into the ceiling thinking about it, “was it Inception? Probably.”

Cillian smiled and he lighted the entire kitchen with it.

“Yeah.”

Pouring both cups, Cillian stood up to take them from her hands.

“So uhhm… this project? Why exactly do you need a racehorse?” She asked cautiously.

“My character is a bookmaker, he arranges races… it’s placed in 1919 so he moved around horses after World War I. It’s quite interesting.” Cillian raised his eyebrows in appreciation for the tea after taking a sip. “Fascinating actually.”

“Definitely sounds intriguing.” Y/N admitted leaning her elbow on the table.

“As soon as I started reading the script I was attracted into his world.” He smiled, revering when he got the call for the audition. “Sorry I don’t want to keep you up.”

“It’s fine, I’ll stay for a little longer checking some paperwork.” Her thumb rubbed a chip in her mug. “So would it be okay if I show you everything? From brushing the horse, how to hook the saddle? The way you should approach one?”

Leaning back, Cillian looked at her with his head tilted to the side. “I actually need to learn how to ride bareback.”

****

The following morning, Y/N was preparing the lunchbox for Arlo when a deep voice startled her.

“Good morning.” Cillian saw the little jump she did.

“Hello, did you sleep well?”

Nodding, he smiled in her direction. “Thank you for the accommodation, much better than the B&B.”

“So! I just came here to check the new-” Val announced from the front door just as Arlo stormed into the kitchen but she cut herself when she spotted a man in the corner, “horse, but I see you’re busy.” She replied looking at you. “Just wanted to say it’s highly approved by the comitee. Hello, I’m Val.” She greeted Cillian.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Val…” Y/N added as a warning, knowing how Val was.

“What? It fills all the requirements… great breed, elegance, experience.” She made an OK with her hand.

“Val.” Y/N repeated. “Arlo go or you will be late for school.” She kissed the kid goodbye and felt Val’s eyes on her.

Of course her best friend wasn’t talking about a goddamn horse!

“How about I see you later today? I’m about to get a bit busy.” Y/N asked, she needed to get her friend out of her house before she could keep talking about Cillian as if he was a horse. “We’ve a riding lesson about to start.”

“Have a great time at the barn!” Val gave her a look before leaving them.

After a quick breakfast, Y/N gave him a pair of high boots and introduced Cillian to the different tools they used with the horses.

“To check the heel, you have to take your horse from here.” Y/N showed him how to carefully bend the horse’s leg. “It’s important to let them know that you know what you’re doing. They’re very sensitive.”

Cillian watched intensely every single move she made, how her tone was soft while she had a firm grip on the horse. He couldn’t get to move his eyes from her as she used one of the many tools to brush the mare’s neck.

“They also love to get petted.” Y/N added as she noticed Cillian got quiet. “Would you like to give it a try?”

Finally snapping from his trance, he took the brush and tentatively started to brush the mare.

“She likes that.” Y/N encouraged him noticing the little noises Goldie was making.

“She’s beautiful.” Cillian complimented.

“One of the most gentle ones I’ve seen so far.” Y/N caressed the mare from the other side, giving Cillian space to get comfortable around Goldie. “Her owner, Cia is a great friend and client.”

“And I assume the name is because of the color?” Cillian asked with interest, toiling the soft texture of Goldie.

Y/N nodded profusely.

“She’s recovering from an injury so well, now just needs some rest and she’ll be able to go back on the road in no time.” Cillian noticed the way she whispered to Goldie, looking straight into her eyes.

And she showed him how to get Goldie saddled, adding important tips and tricks to do it right, how to do it properly. It took him a few tries to do it right, but Y/N was so patient, she even admitted that was a virtue she had to thank the horses for.

“Y/N I’m sorry for not coming yesterday.” A woman approached them. “They said I could find you here.”

“Brie don’t worry, is everything alright?” Y/N asked while she eyed Cillian from the corner of her eyes.

That’s when Bries’s eyes sparkled. “Yes! Oh! Y/N… I’ve something to tell you.”

Cillian didn’t even look at them, he was totally engrossed on Goldie, all of his senses on brushing the mare, carefully to not stand behind her just like Y/N instructed. She had been answering all of his endless questions.

“Brie what’s happening?” Y/N looked at her horse trainer with curiosity.

“I just found out I’m pregnant!” She explained with excitement, unable to contain it or hide it any longer.

Y/N pulled her for a tight hug. “Brie, congratulations! This is the best news.”

There were tears in her eyes. “That’s why I couldn’t make it yesterday, I got morning sick and stayed in bed all day. But everything is perfect!”

Y/N couldn’t be happier, by the corner of his eyes, Cillian noticed the genuine smile on her face.

“Okay, so how about you go into the office and help me with the paperwork? I will be in charge for the training from now.” Y/N wrapped her arm around Brie and gave her a tender squeeze. “Made some sandwiches, help yourself.”

“That’s delicious! I brought some chips because, well cravings!” She chuckled giving Cillian a quick glance, it had been ages ago when Y/N went to the barn to give riding lessons.

Turning again towards Cillian, Y/N noticed how good he was, and he learned fast. “You’re a natural.”

Cillian smiled pleased with his improvement, he couldn’t wait to get on the horse.

“Got the best trainer to teach me.”

As time was flying, she noticed it was almost time for Arlo to come back home. “Look, how about we take a break? I need to make lunch for my son but you can join us if you want.”

“I don’t want to disturb your dynamic, Y/N.”

Y/N shook her head. “Non of that.” After caressing the horse’s ears, she added; “come have lunch with us.”

Leaving the boots right next to Y/N’s, Cillian changed into his shoes as they walked into the kitchen, finding Brie with her back at them.

“I hope you don’t mind, I made some pasta.” She smiled at them. “Enough for all of us.”

“Brie you’re going to spoil me just like that baby with some delicious food all the time? I mightjustb open the guest bedrooms and rent them.” Y/N joked leaning over the pot, the smell made her stomach growl.

“Well given the financial circumstances that isn’t a bad idea.” Brie admitted.

“Congratulations.” Added Cillian from the corner of the kitchen.

“Thank you!”

“Mum! I’ve already chose a name for the filly!” Arlo’s voice resonated from the entrance.

“Hello, good evening to you too, can you show some modals please?”

“Hello!” Arlo went to wash his hands and started helping his Mum set the table, Cillian offered to assist the kid. “Do you like riding?”

Looking at him, Cillian nodded. “I’m hoping I won’t be an embarrassment.”

“It’s easy!”

Cillian chuckled at him. “You say that because you were born riding.”

“Are you friends with my Mum? Does it means you’re my friend too?”Arlo gave him a hopeful look. Cillian answered him with a nod. “She needs some.”

Catching the last part of the conversation only Y/N approached them with the food, Brie following her steps.

“I need you to not bother our guests.” She answered and disheveled his hair playfully.

“Y/N I was thinking on what you said.” Cillian looked at her cautiously. “If you want of course… I could pay you and stay here instead of the B&B.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked considering his offer.

He nodded. “I rather stay here and use the driving time from there to here and back in learning more.” Deep down he loved the familiar energy.

“Mum, say yes! I can show Cillian my cars collection!” Arlo suggested excited.

“Well, yes. How can I say no?” She accepted earning a round of happy chants from everyone.

By the end of the day Cillian learned how to get the horse saddled, it was so important to hold it firmly in place. But also he learned to listen to the horse, he needed to make sure the horse was comfortable. Y/N suggested they could go for a walk and take the horses, it was extremely important for Cillian to learn to control the horse while being on the ground first to then be able to ride one.

The following day, they spent a good amount of time working on showing Cillian how to get on the horse, it took several attempts. It was harder than Y/N made it look. But Cillian was determined to give all of him. And more than once, he found himself staring at her until she motioned him to get closer to have a better look and he’d snap out from his trance.

In just a few days he realized Y/N had a very kind heart judging by the way she treated the horses, she showed them respect and loved them with every fiber in her body. The work she did was admirable, being right there away from everything and everyone allowed him to really understand a fundamental part of his character.

By the third day in the facility, Cia paid Goldie a visit, she wanted to take her mare back home but Y/N suggested waiting a few more days until she was fully recovered. While Y/N walked Cia to her vehicle, Cillian decided to stop by Thunder’s corral.

“Hello! Is Y/N around?” Val approached him. “Arlo said she was here.”

“She went to walk Cia out after checking her mare.”

Val doubted whether to ask him directly or not, but she knew her friend better than anyone. “I hope you don’t find me or what I’m about to say rude… but I’ve seen the way you look at her, Brie says Y/N is smiling again, something she hasn’t done much apart from Arlo of course. Do you like her?”

Cillian took a step back, surprised by Val’s sharp eye. But he ended up nodding.

“Don’t look at me like I grew another head, I care about her but I also know she has been disappointed and hurt before,” Cillian looked down, not knowing what to do or say, “she likes you, secretly.”

Val’s words made him snap his head up to look at her.

“She does, I can see it in her eyes… so all I ask is give her time, slowly just like you would start riding a horse, you don’t go galloping after getting on them. She’s like a wild horse after getting kicked so many times, she acts on defensive mode but underneath she’s a softy.”

And just as she arrived, she left, leaving Cillian alone to face an avalanche to a door he closed because when he signed the contract for the Peaky Blinders series, he decided to end the relationship he was in and making the firm decision that he’d focus on this project only.

But sometimes, life has a different plan than yours.

“I came here willing to learn how to ride, but I think I’m getting so much more than that.” Cillian confessed to the thorough, extending his hand to caress the horse’s muzzle.

***

Part 2

A/N: Nothing, just THANK YOU! ✨♥️🚬🥃

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee @ironpen @kittycatcait219 @shelundeadxxxx @speckledemerald @creativepawsworld

#that’s what Cill said #cillian murhy #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfic #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders

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aboutcustardcreams · 18 days ago

Note

Could you please do a 13 x femreader where r is also a timelord that has been traveling with them since practically forever. But r is more of a “I will actually result to violence” if it’s their only option to protect one of the human companions. They split ways because of that but they end up crossing paths once more with the doc and fam finding them like in some prison or whatever situation you decide because r tried to stick to the doctors morals but it didn’t end well for her.

summary: After an argument, you storm off the TARDIS in need to clear your head. And it goes well for a while, until you find yourself in quite a predicament and in need of a helping hand.

a/n: it's not exactly faithful to the request, but I think it goes pretty close. Hope you like it anyway <3

word count: 3700 ish

WWTDD: What would the Doctor do?

If the Doctor was there, you’d tell her she is an idiot. How she always managed to do what’s right was beyond you. It was easier to put the blame on her because it was her fault, at least a tiny bit, if you found yourself in that predicament, yet you weren’t angry with her. You never could. This isn’t to say that you never do the right thing, because you do. The difference lies in the way you operate, operated actually, considering you changed. Since you two parted ways, you tried to be more like her. You used to be more… practical, especially when it came to protecting those in need. To put it in simple words, if somebody threatened to punch you or the Doctor in the face, you’d make sure to strike first. It seemed reasonable to you.

You have always been a bit feisty, growing up. But you’d not consider yourself a bad person. The Doctor was the mediator, the one good with words, while you were the brawn. And for a while it worked out quite fine. As far as you can remember, you two have always traveled together, despite your differences. It was also true that despite being inseparable and quite close, you bickered a lot and mostly about your methods of taking action. You saved her multiple times, and it’s not that she didn’t appreciate it, because she did, but she was always pointing out the fact that there were other ways to face problems. Ways that didn’t involve the use of violence, for example. You weren’t violent per se and she knew that. Sure, you did throw your enemies against the wall, punched them in the face, electrocuted them with your sonic screwdriver, but it was always to protect the Doctor and not for the fun of it.

“What’s your problem?!” She snapped at you, hands flying in the air in utter exasperation. You just shot an alien in the leg who, in your defense, was running after you two and not with the purest intentions.

You scoffed, your brows shot up in disbelief, “my problem? Are you serious right now?” She stormed back in the TARDIS, avoiding meeting your eyes on purpose. You groaned and followed behind, “Doctor!”

“Was it really necessary?” When she spun around, her features hardened as she looked at you. Oh, you knew that look on her face; it made you feel uneasy and… guilty.

The Doctor was clever, incredibly so, and yet she failed to see your truest intentions. “He would have shot you! I saw him pointing that laser gun at you–” You explained, frustration filling your voice. It was exhausting trying to make her understand why you acted a certain way. In your mind, your actions couldn’t be easier to read. You lov- cared for her and the last thing you wanted was her to get hurt or worse. “Was I supposed to let it happen?”

The Doctor closed her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh, hands crossed over her chest in a defensive manner. If only you could read her, and truly, you’d know what really bothered her. But she would hardly open up, your Doctor. She has always been so secretive, so… introvert despite her joyful and engaging personality. “I’m not saying that, but you shouldn’t use violence for whatever reason. It’s wrong and it’s dangerous. We talked about this– tons of times,” she explained, putting emphasis on every word, as if you were a child and she was the angry mother, giving you the umpteenth lesson of the day.

You merely rolled your eyes, a hint of sarcasm filled your voice as you spoke. “Well, I’m sorry if there weren’t any other options up my sleeve. You should be saying thank you, yet all you can do is give me a hard time for the way I saved your life, again.”

“I didn’t ask you to!” She reproached, and you frowned.

You were confused. Beyond confused, actually. “What are you talking about? You don’t even have to ask for me to save your life!” You snorted out a laugh.

“No, I know– I didn’t mean that. I just–” She exhaled, struggling to put to words her real concerns. In all honesty, she would do the same thing for you and that scared her. She would break all the rules of the Universe if that meant keeping you safe, and yet she would never admit that to you or to herself out loud. She could only hope that it never came to that, because there’s no coming back from a certain path, once taken. Her morals kept screaming at the back of her head that this was not the way to operate. That violence couldn’t call for more violence. And she was worried about you because the perspective of your actions turning against you terrified her. “We are supposed to help people, answer distress calls and find solutions that don’t require the use of any kind of weapons. You have a brain, use it.”

You hummed deep in thought, almost in a mocking tone. Hands on your hips. “My brain couldn’t have saved us from those laser guns.”

The Doctor’s nostrils flared. She answered before she could connect her brain to her mouth. “We don’t know that if you never put it to use!”

Your eyes widened at her words, your mouth parted in an expression of pure disbelief, “Woah-” She saw the hurt in your eyes, how your body tensed up and she mentally cursed herself. She shook her head and drew closer, “Look, I didn’t mean to say that–”, her voice tired and apologetic. You swallowed thickly and stepped back when she held out a hand for you to take. I’m just worried about you, she meant to add and yet kept quiet. When you didn’t let her touch you, she knew how much she messed up. She called out your name, almost in a desperate plea, but you cut her off, without meeting her eyes, “No, it’s fine. Totally fine,” sarcasm was evident in your voice.

The Doctor wasn’t stupid, “Y/n…”

“At least now I know what you really think of me.”

“That’s not– I do not. Wait!”

That was the last moment you talked to her before storming out of the TARDIS. She came after you at first, but you pushed her away, asking, begging her to give you some time alone. You weren’t going to leave forever, that was out of the question, but you were in need to clear up your mind first. You knew she really didn’t mean to say those words, you have known her all your life, lives actually, yet it still burnt.

You didn’t mean to be away for long, however, spending some time alone allowed you to really focus on the Doctor’s words. And you realized all this time she had been right. She was always right and it was annoying. You couldn’t rely on violence for whatever reason, so you made use of the time alone to fix yourself. You never thought you’d do that for anything or anyone, yet you were willing to change for her. You had a vortex manipulator to move around and that’s what you used to answer distress calls all over the Universe.

Days turned into weeks. And you changed, you had a different mindset. You only wished it happened while traveling with her, without being so stubborn about it, because now you’d really use her help. Your wrists were bound tightly in chains above your head, so high you were forced on your tiptoes, making your discomfort next level. The cuffs were starting to cut into your skin as you kept pulling; your limbs tingly and sore were desperate for a release.

“Okay man, I think I’ve intruded enough– would you be so kind as to let me go?”, you growled, your digits turned white, as you clenched your hands into fists, trying to get the blood pumping there but with no luck. “I promise, I’ll pay you a visit,” you gave him a fake, cheeky smile.

The alien stepped forward, with a coy grin on his face. His face looked humanoid, if it wasn’t for the fact that he had a third eye right in the middle of his forehead, and his skin color wasn’t exactly among the most common, but a mixture between dirt orange and yellowish. You met his kind with the Doctor a few months back. They were called Torwash or Torvash, you weren’t sure. You may or may not have set off a couple of explosives to blow up their building on planet Serentara, ruining their plans to enslave its population.

“Do you really think I will let you go after everything you’ve done?”

You scoffed, “Oi! I wasn’t alone when I crushed your forces, humiliated you and your kind and set those innocents free...” Maybe you shouldn’t have reminded him of all the things you did, but you couldn’t help your teasing nature, even under similar circumstances. That’s another thing the Doctor wasn’t particularly fond of, but you were working on that too. Couldn’t fix everything about yourself in one sitting now, could you? A small smile tugged at your lips, as you imagined her hand flapping at your head for your bad timing. You’d have preferred that over that unexpected surge of electricity that shot through you, coming from those binds trapping your wrists. You let out a muffled cry and clenched your eyes.

“Aahw, you aren’t holding back, are you? I love a good screamer–” he teased.

As the electricity subsided, you lifted your chin and gave him a faint smile, ignoring what he just said, “I see you’re still holding a grudge. You know, resentment isn’t good for the skin, especially yours–” you breathed out, chains rattling to the trembling of your body.

He cocked an eyebrow, “I’m not sure whether you’re brave or just utterly stupid.”

“Maybe a bit of both,” you trailed off, chest rising and falling heavily,

When he grasped your chin, his claws dug deep in your skin and you hissed for how sharp and uncomfortable they felt. “You could use a manicure, man.”

He pushed you hard, and your back crashed against the cold rocky wall behind you. You hit the back of your head too, and for a moment your vision clouded with tiny black and white dots. You wished you could pass out, to give a glimpse of rest to your aching body, but of course it would take more than that to tire a Time Lord. “Geez, your resentment hurts,” you croaked out, yet you didn’t allow yourself to lose your defiant smile.

“Do you think it’s wise to keep poking the bear?” He snapped, voice dripping with venom and anger.

The skin around your wrists was so tender, you felt it rip and bleed. It was impossible to keep from squirming, especially since you couldn’t place your feet down properly. You were so tired, you’d honestly sleep upright. “To be honest, no. But old habits die hard,” you winced at the droplets of blood falling from your wrists, sliding down your arms.

He recognized honesty in your tone, so he hummed and started walking around you like a predator eyeing its prey before calling it dinner. “I’m curious, what happened to the Doctor?” He saw you tense up at the mention of her. “I thought you two were inseparable.”

“Ah you know– we are taking a pause for reflection,” you muttered vaguely.

A smug grin tugged at his lips. “So she left you…”

You shot him a glare and gritted your teeth, “For your information, I’m the one who left. But to be frank, it’s none of your damn business, so don’t ever act like you know everything cause, spoiler alert, you don’t know shit.”

The alien raised his hand and smacked you across your face, sending a pain shot right through your cheek and jawline. You tasted something else in your mouth, when you smacked your lips. Blood. More blood. “Fuck!” For a moment the Torvash thought he was starting to break you but when he spotted your lips stretching in a lopsided grin, he reconsidered, “that is all you got?”

You knew it was risky to push his buttons, but anything was better than giving him the satisfaction of making you feel vulnerable or weak.

Another surge of electricity shot through you and this time you made no effort to hold back your scream. Your entire body shook violently, your eyes fell shut as a pained howl slipped from your lips. You made the fatal mistake to pull at your binds and lift your knees and the pain could only intensify.The skin around your wrists felt like melting and it probably was. Cause it burned like fire feeding on your flesh.

The Torvash laughed, “Not so cheeky now, are you, Time Lord?”

“F-fuck y-you!” You hissed, eyes darkening towards him.

He clicked his tongue, feigning disappointment, “I see how it is…”

You knew at that point, he was about to strike again, so you closed your eyes and held your breath, hoping that this time the pain shot would be strong enough to make you pass out. You waited and waited until it was his piercing cry to echo through the room. Curiosity caused your eyes to snap open again.

“Torvash, if you were so desperate to get my attention, you could have texted me,” You’d recognize that voice anywhere, it was the Doctor. You let out a long shaky breath you didn’t think you were holding when spotted her.

She looked ethereal, like an absolute vision after days in a desert.

With her hand stretched out, sonic pointed at him, he hit him, one strike to his hand caused him to drop the remote he was holding to control the electricity surging from the cuffs, “Ah-ha! I don’t think so.” She quipped, before striking him again when he tried to reach out to the remote at his feet. This time she hit his shoulder, and he let out a sharp cry, to which you spotted the Doctor grin, as if she was delighted by his pain.

It was sexy, you thought to yourself. And new too.

When she struck another time, your brows shot up in both disbelief and surprise. The Torvash was left unconscious on the ground. He wasn’t dead, but at least he would snooze for a while, giving you and the Doctor enough time to get out of there.

You snorted out a small chuckle. “What happened to your peaceful ways?”

She just shrugged, pulling away her sonic, “Mercy is overrated sometimes,” she commented, rushing towards you.

“It’s so good to see you,” when she stopped right in front of you, a small smile, almost timid, tugged at your lips.

Her hearts ached and her breathing fastened at the sight of your weary, yet hopeful eyes. She couldn’t help but think this was her fault.

“I missed you,” her face so close to yours you could feel her breathing across your face.

“Bet you did,” you muttered cheekily, earning a playful eye roll from her. “I missed you too,” you added softly, leaning in towards her body. She placed her forehead against yours and your hearts thumped even louder. When the chains rattled, she lifted her chin up, to look at your injuries. Color drained from her face the moment she noticed the blood running down your wrists.

“Oh–” she winced.

You played cool, as per usual. If you hadn’t been tied up and down, you’d squeeze her shoulder or playfully nudge at her arm to make her smile again. She could light up the Universe with that smile of hers. Make everything better.

“It’s okay–”

“It’s really not,” she stuttered, forcing out a smile, “but it’ll be. I promise.”

She pointed her sonic towards the iron cuffs, trying to keep her fingers from trembling while doing so. With a burst of energy, they finally clattered on the floor at your feet allowing your skin to finally breathe some air. Oh, it felt good. When your feet touched the floor, you struggled to keep your balance. The Doctor saw it coming; she draped an arm across your middle, the moment your knees gave in. “Gotcha,” she whispered, voice thick with fear and emotion.

“Sorry. My limbs are kinda numb.”

She stroked and smothered your damp hair on your forehead, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You leaned against her, as she helped you on your feet. With the blood finally flowing back in your lumps, you felt slightly better, but not out of the woods yet. You were tired, and you’d very well enjoy a good snooze like Mister Torvash over the floor.

“Where’s the TARDIS?”

“Down the corridor,” she replied, helping you take your steps.

You hummed, looking around you with a watchful eye, with the fear of bumping into other Torvash along the way. The Doctor squeezed you a bit tighter, recognizing the concern in your gaze.

“No worries, Yaz and Dan dealt with the others. We are fine,” she said, before pointing out. “You’re fine.”

You hummed absentmindedly, only to realize you didn’t know this Dan she just mentioned. Your eyes shot up in both curiosity and disbelief. Has she already collected another companion to travel with? That would be very much like her, truth be told.

“Have you already replaced me?”

A small chuckle escaped her mouth at your harmless teasing.

“Don’t be silly. Now let’s go–”

You looked down at her coat, noticing droplets of blood, your blood soiling it. “I’m ruining your clothes,” you pouted, and yet you didn’t pull away. If anything you scooted closer, or she did. You weren’t sure.

“It’s the least of my problems,” she argued, giving your hip a light squeeze.

“I was starting to think I’d have to say goodbye to this body, you know?”

She clicked her tongue and looked at you as if you had just said the stupidest thing ever. “Not a chance. I’ve got your back, always.”

A moment of silence fell upon you two, once in front of the blue box. Before stepping in, the Doctor hesitated, as if she had some unfinished business to deal with. She spotted the Torvash from a distance, still on the ground. He was starting to move, probably about to regain consciousness. A part of her wanted to wait until he did, only to strike him again and again with her sonic. She wished he paid for what he did to you.

“Hey,” you muttered softly, squeezing her hand, “He’s not worth your anger.”

Her eyes softened once she turned towards you, “he shouldn’t have hurt you,” she whispered, her hands ran to your cheek and softly traced the contour of your jawline. You shivered under her touch, “No, he shouldn’t have. But I promise, it barely tickled.”

She hummed, not completely convinced by your admission, however she didn’t insist and the two of you finally stepped inside the TARDIS.

“You know, I tried to be more like you,” you added quietly. It was her turn to share a look of disbelief at your words. “I mean no violence. No weapons. And I realized I’m quite good at that– but maybe, from now on, it’s better if we stick together to avoid complications…”, you gestured vaguely with your hands.

A sad smile curled her lips, “I’m sorry I made you think you had to… change. You’re brilliant, perfect just the way you are.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, “Nah, I like this new me more,” you assured her. “Besides, you were right. We can’t always rely on violence to fix our problems, even though you taught quite a lesson to that Torvash,” you teased, your tone light and playful as you flopped down on the pavement, exhausted and sore.

Standing there at the panel room, there stood Yaz with the new recruit, “Heya newbie. Nice to meet ya.”

He waved kindly, and answered with his thick, scouse accent, “Happy to finally meet you too, despite the circumstances.”

Yaz rushed towards you, and before you could protest, she wrapped her arms around your neck in a crushing embrace, “don’t you ever leave like that again!”

A wave of guilt rushing over you, remembering you left without saying a word to her. She wasn’t there when you and the Doctor had that disagreement. “I’m sorry, Yaz,” you muttered apologetically.

When she pulled away, she gave you a playful nudge.

The Doctor stepped in, “you need a proper checkup.”

Your head lolled in the Doctor’s direction, “later?” you pouted, voice drowsy and whiny. You were exhausted and the warmth of the TARDIS, the idea of finally being back home, with your fam, allowed your body to relax even further, to the point that you felt like you could literally fall asleep there.

The Doctor crouched down with a sigh, “Now,” she objected firmly.

Yaz playfully rolled her eyes. She walked towards Dan, giving you and the Doctor a moment for yourselves. “I’m never sure whether they are bickering or flirting,” she hummed, her voice hiding a veil of playfulness.

Dan chuckled at that, “The Doctor talked non stop about her. Doesn’t take a mastermind to figure out she likes her.”

In the meantime, the Doctor had given in. She shifted behind you and drew you onto her lap. Her arms wrapped around your middle, and gently took your hands only to curl your fingers together. Your body melted completely in the warmth of her embrace, you missed so much. Your head lolled back against the Doctor’s shoulder and you let out a content sigh, “I’m so happy to be back.”

The Doctor snorted out a small laugh, placing her cheek on the top of your head, to feel you, smell you, “No more pauses to think, hm?”

You felt your eyelids get heavier every passing second, yet you smiled. The Doctor knew you were about to drift off any moment now and she held you a bit tighter, “who needs ‘em, anyway?” You muttered sleepily.

“Not us,” she cooed, before placing a kiss on your temple.

#thirteenth doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor imagines #thirteenth doctor #doctor who imagines #jodie whittaker #wlw #yasmin khan #hurt comfort #rescue party #protective doctor #time lord reader #13th doctor x reader #13th doctor

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pedrito-friskito · 2 years ago

Text

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part twelve

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

joel finally gets his head out of his ass, with a little push from tess.

a/n: we have BIG CONVERSATIONS IN THIS HOUSE FAM. i want to reiterate: i love the canon joel x tess. i live for it. but the drama/angst/emotion it has allowed me to create but backpedaling them SLIGHTLY? delish. enjoy babes, please scream at me about the ending 😇

word count: 5.5k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, angst, drinking, lots of emotions, mentions of canon-typical violence and injuries, mentions of death, joel is both an asshole and an Emotional Man, tess and liv are true bffs and god bless last night’s episode for solidifying some of my plans 🤍

✨I do not have a taglist - follow @friskito-library for updates on future chapters/works✨

“You need to talk to her.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, Joel, you—”

“Don’t tell me what I need to fuckin’ do, Tess. Leave it be.”

“Joel—”

“Please.”

You’ve been staying at Deanna’s. Two weeks now, since your stint in lockup, since Angie had beat the literal shit out of you. The couch isn’t comfy, and your ribs are still sore, but it’s fine.

The kids are happy to have you around. Emily especially, once she got past the bruises on your face. You weren’t expecting Henry’s reaction; when you woke up in Deanna’s apartment the next morning, he was sitting vigil beside you, tears on his face, bottom lip jutting out. You told him you fell down the stairs, trying to get a laugh out of him, and he’d just hugged you, buried his face in your chest.

You try to keep things normal, whatever the fuck that means anymore. You take on extra jobs, trying to earn more ration cards for the three living in your apartment. Tess shadows you, follows you around every day, and you tell her your secrets, point out your routes, the soldiers you have dirt on, the ones you know not to fuck with.

“She’s the one that beat you?” she asks one day, jutting her chin towards Angie. You’re standing in the warehouse that serves as the food bank, waiting in line. You’ve had a heartbeat in the bruise on your cheek since you woke up, and standing ten feet from the woman who gave it to you isn’t exactly helping.

You disguise your nod as a stretch, wincing at the pull on your ribs. Deanna was sure you hadn’t broken any, but you sure as hell were bruised. They didn’t look as bad as your cheek, but the pain was deeper, and seemed intent to linger longer. “Yeah, that’s her.”

Tess sneers in her direction, and you have to stifle your laugh. “Fucking bitch.”

You like Tess. You really like her. She’s a hard ass, but rightfully so, given the history. She hasn’t given you much more of her past, and you’re definitely not about to offer up any of yours, but the friendship between you is quick. You’ve skirted the Joel subject so far, despite the fact that they’re literally sleeping in your bed. Most of your conversations have been about the QZ, the inner workings, your smuggling. You have a job coming up, and Tess has already said she’s coming with you.

“I doubt Joel will be thrilled about that.”

“Joel can fucking shove it.”

She hasn’t been shy about her displeasure towards him, but it hasn’t done much to change things between you. You went down to grab some clothes a few days back, and he’d been the only one inside. Tess was out exploring, and Tommy had gone with her.

He didn’t say a goddamned word.

You’d managed to hold back the tears until you were back in the hallway, but you sobbed so hard you thought you actually were going to crack a rib. And on the other side of the door, you heard the radio flick on, assumedly to drown out your noise.

You nearly put your boot through the wall.

You move up a few places in line, and reach into your pocket, pulling out the ration cards you’ve collected. It’s worked out okay; you had some stashed to begin with and you were able to pull a few jobs after you got back on your feet. But Tess is adamant they’ll pay you back, despite your protests.

“First job I take,” she says to you, jutting her chin towards the stack in your hand, “you get half.”

You shake your head. “I told you, it’s fine.“

“It’s not,” she replies, her tone determined. “It’s the least we can do, after what you did for us. Hell, I should give you back double for putting up with the bullshit Joel’s been throwing at you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” she repeats, and grabs your arm, turning you towards her slightly. “I’m not fucking okay with this. I need you to get that. He needs to talk to you. You need to talk to him.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me, Tess,” you say, toying with a corner of a ration card. “I have to respect that.”

“And he should give you the same courtesy,” she says as you move up again. “You need to talk this out. He can’t keep putting up brick fucking walls; you deserve more respect than that. You put your ass on the line for us, and got the shit kicked out of you. History or not, he owes you. I’ll lock you two in the same room if I have to.”

“Hah,” you scoff, lifting your brows. “I’m sure he’d love that.”

She goes quiet as you reach the front of the line, handing over the cards. The woman working the table slides a crate of food across to you a second later, along with two jugs of water that Tess reaches for. It’s not until you’re back outside that she speaks again.

“I want us to be friends,” she says, and the tone in her voice makes you pause, stopping in your tracks. “I like you, Liv; you’re strong as hell. Brave. Best damn smuggler I’ve ever seen. I just…I need you to understand, me and Joel, it’s nothing close to what I had with Nate, or what he had with you. I know that. I get that. We laid out ground rules from square one. It’s a…” She trails off, searching for the right word.

“A comfort,” you provide.

She nods. “Yes. And I…if I had a second chance with Nate? If I walked down this street tomorrow and saw him walking through that fucking gate, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to—” She stops, clamps her hand over her mouth and you almost jump when you see the tears in her eyes.

“Tess.” She blinks hard, waving a hand at you, and in an instant, the badass demeanour has returned, if not doubly so. You continue, “If he’s a comfort to you, I can’t be the person that takes that away. He’s not mine to take. Especially not if he doesn’t want me back. It’s okay. You can’t force his hand in this.”

She eyes you, chewing at her thumbnail before, “Maybe I can.”

You shake your head, hefting the crate of food higher on your hip. “Let’s take this back.”

The doorknob jiggles, and Joel’s head snaps up. He’s sat on your couch, some book about woodworking in his hands, a mostly abandoned glass of whiskey on the table in front of him. Tommy’s at the kitchen table, bent over a map, trying to figure out the path they’d taken, all the way back to Austin. “I’m just curious,” he’d said when Joel had asked, his voice almost clipped. Joel hadn’t pushed any further.

The door swings open, revealing you and Tess, a crate of food on your hip, Tess carrying jugs of water. Joel gets to his feet, wanders towards the kitchen, leaning against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Tommy gets up immediately, takes one of the jugs from Tess. She starts putting stuff away, and you step closer to the table, digging in the pocket of your coat. “Exciting news,” you say, pulling out a key ring with three keys on it, dropping it onto the table. “Moving day.”

“We’re not going far, are we?” Tess asks over her shoulder.

“No,” you reply, pushing a hand through your hair before shucking off your coat. “One floor up, few units down. Besides, you know where to find me.” Joel catches you glance his way, but it’s short-lived, you turning away a moment later to help Tess put the rest of the food away. “I saw they have a posting for a handyman in the building, one for the apartment across the street too,” you say, putting away a box of instant mashed potatoes. “Unit maintenance and stuff like that, thought you boys might be good for it.”

Tommy nods, enthusiastic. “Sounds good to me.” He glances at Joel over his shoulder. “Gotta get started paying you back what we owe you, Liv.”

You wave a hand, and Joel sees Tess give you a pointed look. “Listen, all of you. We’re square, okay? I mean it. I’m just…I’m glad you’re all here. Safe. That’s all that matters to me.”

Joel can’t hold his tongue. “That soldier beat you half to death.”

“Oh, you noticed?” you throw back, and the guilt simmers in his gut. “We’re square,” you repeat, leaning against the kitchen counter, hip cocked, arms crossed over your chest. A mirror of Joel’s stance. “But there’s something I wanted to bring up to the three of you. Tess and I have already talked it over, and I’ve done okay for myself given the circumstance, but I could use you, all three of you.” Your eyes flick from Tommy to Joel and back again, so quick he nearly misses it. “It’s a risk, I won’t lie, but I’ve got dirt on half the soldiers in this QZ. And I know exactly what to give them to keep their mouths shut.”

“You already know I’m in,” Tess says, bumping her hip into yours. There’s a tiny grin on your face, the bruising along your cheek pinching slightly. “There are still connections from Baltimore we can use. Between the four of us, we could be living like kings, for a change.”

You nod. “Either way, it’s an offer. I trust you all enough that you’ll keep it secret, but if you want in, my door’s always open.” You pause. “But I do want my keys back.”

“I’m game,” Tommy says, leaning back in his chair. “You tell me where and when, Liv, and I’m there.”

“Same,” Tess agrees, “but we’re still paying you back.”

Joel can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Are you out of your damn minds? Both of you?” He stares at Tommy when his brother turns to face him, glances at Tess when she steps forward and plants her hands on the kitchen table. “We just got safe again, and already you want to put that in jeopardy?”

Tess scoffs, and the sound makes Joel blood boil. There’s too much happening. The guilt never leaves, but seeing you, hearing your voice, it makes it that much worse, and Tess looking at him like he’s a fucking idiot doesn’t help matters.

“We pulled a lot of bad shit to stay alive out there, Joel,” she says, her tone stern. “Baltimore was no different. I highly doubt a bit of smuggling is going to fuck with our reputations.”

“Your records are clean,” you offer, your voice placating. It makes the hair on the back of Joel’s neck stand on end. “When Cowan brought you through, he wiped them. Tommy’s is already clean, otherwise they wouldn’t have let him through to start with.” You lift your hands. “It’s just an offer, Joel.”

How have you managed to make his own name feel like a punch to the gut?

“I’ll show you to the apartment,” you say, grabbing the keys off the table, putting a hand on Tess’s shoulder. “You guys can talk it out. There’s no pressure. I’ve got a job in a few days, and—”

“I already told you, I’m going with you,” Tess says, and Joel’s brows raise.

“Tess—”

“Shut up, Joel.” She turns towards the door. “Let’s go.”

You swallow, hard enough that Joel can see your throat bob from where he’s standing. Tess grabs her jacket, gestures at Tommy to do the same, and his brother gets to his feet. You hold open the door, and Joel follows Tess and Tommy out. He tries to catch your eye as he walks past you, but your gaze drops to the floor.

Their unit is one floor up, three down from yours. You unlock the door before handing the keys to Tess, let it swing inwards. It looks about the same as yours, save for the floral wallpaper. It’s a bit bigger, an actual separate bedroom, another bed tucked in one corner, a room divider that’s seen better days blocking it off. He’s surprised, almost, that there’s furniture, even blankets on the beds, and follows his brother inside. Tess wanders, and you hang in the doorway, leaned against the jamb.

“I found some stuff at the donation warehouse,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. “People will leave all kinds of shit down there, stuff they don’t need. The mattresses aren’t great, but I cleaned them best I could, and there’s some clothes too.” Joel turns to look at you, and your eyes move away from his again. “And, if you’re game for smuggling, when knows what else we might find.”

Tommy walks back over to where you’re stood, slings an arm around your neck, pulling you against him. “You’re an angel, Liv. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you reply, leaning your head against Tommy’s chest, and Joel ignores the zip of…is that jealousy surging through his gut? Fuck.

But it turns into guilt just as quick, makes something mean bubble out of his mouth before he can stop it. “You shouldn’t have done this.” He doesn’t look at you, not directly, but from the corner of his eye, sees you balk, flinching slightly.

“Joel,” Tess chides, walking over to the door, pulling you out of Tommy’s grip and into a hug. “We owe you, I mean it.”

Joel watches, as you hug Tess. Your eyes flutter shut, your hands hooked around her shoulders, your brow pinched slightly. God, how many times had this thought crossed his mind? How many times had he wondered if the two of you would get along?

How many times had he dreamt of merely seeing you again?

Yet here he is, fucking it up harder than anyone ever could have imagined.

“I’m gonna go,” you say, jutting a thumb over your shoulder. “Tess, I’ll see you tomorrow?” She nods. “And Tommy, you can ask Sergeant McCoy about the handyman gig. He’s a decent guy.”

Then your eyes turn to Joel. He meets them, looks back at you, feels the guilt so thickly he’s convinced it’s replacing his blood. He thinks he hears you say his name, but then your wrench your eyes from his, disappearing from the doorway. His feet move of their own accord, propelling him towards the door, but he stops short, hands swinging at his sides.

Tommy claps him on the shoulder. “Brother, I love you, but you’re a fucking idiot.” He turns to Tess. “I’m gonna go check on her.”

Tess just nods, and the door shuts a moment later. It’s just the two of them, and Joel can already tells he’s about to be on the receiving end of Tess’s anger.

“Sit, Miller.” She points to the kitchen table. It’s not much different than yours, though there are no maps spread across the surface. “You can’t keep doing this shit.”

“Tess, don’t—”

“No, shut the fuck up,” she cuts him off, her hand flexing in the air. “You’re gonna sit there and you’re gonna listen, you understand? Please.”

Tess doesn’t often say please.

Joel swallows hard. “Fine.”

“You need to go after Liv,” she says, the words blunt, laying her hand flat on the table. “You can’t keep pushing her away and treating her the way that you are. You can’t keep doing this to her.”

“I have to,” he replies, the words quick, half-hearted. An excuse.

“No, you don’t,” Tess throws back, just as quick.

“You—”

“We’re done,” she says, cutting him off again. “You and I. It was just stress relief, right from the beginning. I know that, you know that. Nate was gone and you were there and I…” She shakes her head, lifts her hand to her mouth and bites her knuckle before continuing. “If I had a second chance like this, a second shot, goddamn, I would have dropped you so fast your head would’ve spun.” She actually laughs. Her eyes are big and wet, but no tears fall. “She loves you, Joel, and you love her. I knew it from the second you saw her at the gas station. It’s not—”

“Tess—”

“Listen to me, Joel. If I turned a corner tomorrow and saw Nate right there in front of me, there’s not a force on this whole fucking planet that could keep me from him. So why are you doing this to her? To yourself?”

He goes quiet, for a long moment. Stares down at the table top, digs his nail into the grain of the wood. “You said it yourself, Tess. We did a lot of bad shit out there to stay alive. I’m not…” He shakes his head. “I’m not who she remembers, who she loved before.”

Tess reaches out and grabs his hand, squeezes his fingers tightly. “Joel, the fucking world ended. I didn’t know her before, but I highly doubt that the Liv I know now was the same before the outbreak. We do what we have to, to survive. She put her life on the line for us, without batting a fucking eye. The least you can do is talk to her.”

“I can’t—”

“You can. What do I have to say to get it though your thick fucking skull, Miller? Second chances like this don’t just happen. If I had one, I sure as hell wouldn’t squander it the way you’re so hellbent on doing. So don’t.”

“Tess—”

“Please.”

Tess doesn’t often say please.

Slowly, Joel gets to his feet, and Tess follows suit. He’s not quite sure what to do next, but then she grabs the front of his jacket, hauls him against her, throws her arms around his neck. He hugs her back, mouth pressed to the curve of her shoulder.

“And I don’t wanna hear any more shit about not joining forces with Liv,” Tess says softly. “We’d be fucking fools not to.” She claps him on the shoulder, pulling away. “I’ll see you around, Joel.”

“Bye, Tess.”

The doorknob is cold when he reaches for it, and Tess doesn’t say another word as he steps out into the hall, pulls the door shut. His feet seem to carry him down the hall on their own. He heads down the stairs, faintly hears Tommy’s voice calling after him as he heads down towards the lobby.

“Joel, where you going?”

It’s still a few hours until curfew, the sky still light, though dark clouds are gathering over the city. The moment he’s out the main door, he’s sprinting, running as fast as his legs will carry him. He’s pushing past people on the street, boots scuffing on the pavement, mumbling apologies when he almost crashes into someone.

He just keeps going, arms pumping once he’s through the crowds of people trying to get home. He has no idea where he’s going, but he just keeps going, on and on and on until he finds himself standing in the same alleyway you’d lead him and Tess through, when you’d smuggled them inside.

What the fuck is he doing?

The rain starts slow, a few drips pelting his shoulders, the back of his neck. He tips his head back, stares up at the ominous dark clouds, hears the rumble of thunder in the distance. Joel lets his eyes slip closed, hands loose at his sides.

In a flash, it’s a downpour. He’s soaked in a matter of seconds, rainwater seeping through his hair, wetting his scalp. It runs down his cheeks, sneaks beneath the collar of his flannel, gathers in the hollow of his throat.

She loves you, Joel, and you love her.

Tess is right. He knows she’s right. It didn’t matter how much time had passed, he always knew in the back of his mind that if he found you again, he wouldn’t be able to keep himself away from you. Everything he’s been doing, everything he’s said since you mentioned Sarah, it’s been…survival. Fear, that if he lets himself have you again, he’ll just lose you, like he lost her. That someone or something will take you from him.

Tommy told me. About Sarah. Joel, I’m so sorry, I just—

It hurts. The memory makes panic and fear surge through him, every single time. Makes his heart beat faster, his hands clench into fists, sweat at his hairline. But you don’t know that. How could you? He hasn’t told you, hasn’t let you in, hasn’t done anything but try and stay as far away from you as possible.

He can’t keep doing this. He knows that. When he closes his eyes, he still sees those tears on your face, at the gas station. The bat in your hand, the bravery in your eyes. You weren’t the same person he’d fallen in love with back in Austin. But you’ve survived just as hard as he has, and you lived. You’re alive.

I’ll find you, baby.

He swore to you.

“What the fuck am I doing?” Joel says the words aloud, towards the sky, to the dark clouds still pouring down on him. “Fuck.”

He turns on his heel and sprints back up the alley. The rain isn’t letting it up, pelting his face, soaking his hair further. He pushes his way back through the crowds, takes the same random path he’d just run in reverse, back to the building.

Back to you.

He takes the stairs two at a time, ignoring the way his knees are shouting in protest. He’s out of breath by the time he skids to a stop in front of your door, bangs his fist on the wood. “Liv!”

“It’s open,” he hears you call from the other side, and twists the handle, pushes the door open. You’re sitting at the kitchen table, rubbing at your forehead, a bottle of whiskey not far from reach. Your gaze lifts slowly, but then your entire expression changes when you see him standing there in the doorway. “Joel? What’re you do—”

“I wanna talk to you,” he says, the words coming out in a rush. His heart is hammering in his chest. He steps through the doorway, shuts it behind him. “Please.”

“Why are you wet?” you ask, your eyes narrowing, but then you shake your head, waving your hands. “Doesn’t matter. What…you wanna talk?”

“I do.”

“About what?”

He heaves a breath. “You. Me. Tess, she—”

You lift a hand, your expression turning defeated, and reach for the whiskey. “It’s fine, Joel. I get it. It’s not like I expected you to wait around for me or anything like that, but just for the record, it’s not reason enough to avoid me like the fucking plague.” You take a swig from the bottle, tearing your eyes from his.

“I’m sorry,” he says instantly, and takes a step towards the table. You lower the bottle, slide your gaze back to his. “About all of it, Liv. Please. I just wanna talk you.”

He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, shakes the water from his fingers. You don’t say anything when he shrugs out of his jacket, hangs it on the hook near the door, settles into the seat across from you. He points towards the whiskey, and you slide it across the table to him. The liquor burns on the way down, but the warmth that follows helps with the chill from the rain.

You lean back slightly in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, staring him down. “You wanna talk, Miller,” you say, and part of him wonders how much you’ve had to drink already. “Then talk.”

He takes another long swig of the whiskey. The noise the bottle makes as he puts it back down seems to echo through the apartment. “I’ve been an asshole,” he says, his gaze dropping to his lap, “since the gas station. I’ve been trying my goddamn best to push you away, and I just…” He lifts his head, lets one hand rest on the table, an olive branch between you. “I’m sorry.”

“You said that already.”

“Liv, I just…I did some terrible shit out there, to stay alive. I’m not the same. But I know you aren’t either.”

“We all do terrible shit to stay alive, Joel.” You huff a little laugh. “It’s just the way of the world now.” You drag a hand over your face. “Besides, you are the only thing I have left,” you say, and Joel’s heart jumps into his throat, “from before.” You blink hard, and he can see the tears gathering along your lashes. Everything in him wants to vault the table separating you and just hold you. “I was gonna leave Boston. Before they put up the wall, when all that was standing in my way was a fucking chain link fence. I was gonna leave. Then Cowan calls the Austin QZ, asks about my family, and there’s no record of my sister, no record of you, but my parents…”

You trail off, shaking your head, squeezing your eyes shut. You wipe at your cheeks, and lay your hand on the table, inches from his. Joel’s fingers twitch.

“What happened?”

“FEDRA levelled Austin, when it was overrun. My parents were in a shelter, when they dropped the bombs, and no one survived.”

Joel balks. He remembers, that night, the outbreak. He remembers Tommy’s truck barrelling down the road, down the main drag where the hardware store was. He remembers flames pouring out of the storefront, shattered glass and the way the awning had caught fire. He remembers praying to whoever the fuck was even bothering to listen anymore that your family was okay.

“So you stayed.”

You nod, fingers tapping on the table. “I stayed. I got lucky, really. Dean got me good, before I…” You trail off, rubbing at your shoulder. “They were killing anyone who was injured, shooting them point blank in the streets. I just ran, and nearly a week later, when the soldiers stopped me at the fence, I was still me, and Cowan made sure no one saw my injuries, had Deanna treat me. Left a nasty fucking scar.” You squeeze your shoulder, pulling your eyes from Joel’s. “I never stopped wanting to go looking for you, Joel. Not once. I just—”

He shakes his head, flexes his fingers on the tabletop. “It doesn’t matter, Liv. You did what you had to, to stay alive. We all did.” He swallows hard. “When did it happen? With Dean.”

You grab the bottle, turning fully to face him, your other hand still planted inches from his. “Outbreak day. It’s funny, actually, I had just been on the phone, with you, you remember?”

Joel lets himself smile, the conversation rising to the surface of his mind. “We wished each other happy birthday.”

“We did,” you agree, and take a swig. “I just got home, and Dean was…he was just standing there, in the bedroom, staring out the window. He didn’t notice me, not at first.” You shake your head, letting go of the bottle, rubbing your fingers across your forehead. “I shouldn’t have done it, looking back, but I didn’t know, and I…I called his name. He turned, and he looked at me with that…that dead look they have, you know? And then…then he started running at me, and I knew something was wrong. I kept the bat right by the bedroom door, and when he came at me, I just…swung. Until he stopped.”

You grab the bottle again, and Joel flexes his pinky wide, until it grazes yours. Your eyes drop to the table. “You protected yourself, baby.”

It’s like everything in the apartment shifts, as the endearment rolls off his tongue. He doesn’t mean to say it so soon, but everything in him is aching to comfort you, the feeling tenfold after being stuffed down for so long. Why did he put you through this? Why did he put himself through this?

Your eyes are watery when they lift to his again. “I never should have left Austin, Joel,” you say, and slide your hand across the table, settling it on top of his, your palms pressed together. “I never should have left you.”

“I’m here now,” he says, letting his fingers curl around your wrist. His heart races when you do the same. “It doesn’t matter. None of it.”

Your thumb slides across his pulse, and your eyes flutter shut for a moment before they meet his again. There’s fire in your eyes, one he hasn’t seen in a long, long time. “What are we doing here, Joel?”

His brow pinches. “What d’you mean?”

“This is the ultimate second chance,” you say, and he can’t help his chuckle, “and we are royally fucking it up.” He keeps laughing, and you dig your nails into his skin, making him yelp. “It’s not funny, Joel!”

“I know, I know,” he says, his tone going apologetic. “It’s just…you and Tess get on well, don’t you?”

You scoff a little laugh, nodding. “She’s a badass.”

He juts his chin towards you. “So are you.”

“I get it,” you say, pulling your eyes away. Your hand stays where it is. “The two of you, it makes sense. I…I was with Cowan.” You make a face. “Am with Cowan? I don’t know. It’s just…comfort, I guess, but now, it…”

Joel can’t help but bristle slightly. “He’s helped you all these years?”

You nod slowly. “Hasn’t ratted me out, got me out of some pretty deep shit once or twice. But he’s not…” You nail him to the spot with your stare, leaning forward slightly, sliding your hand up his arm until it’s wrapped around his forearm, resting in the crook of his elbow. “He doesn’t come close, Joel. Dean, Cowan, they’re just…” You shake your head. “They’re nothing, compared to you. I could never love anyone else the way I loved you.” You pause, chew your lip. “Love you.”

“Liv—”

“But I won’t get between you and Tess, I promise. I like her, and you and me, it doesn’t—”

“Tess broke things off,” he says, and your eyes go wide. “She was right. I couldn’t keep doing what I was doing, pushing you away, thinking it was easier that way. I don’t want to stay away from you anymore. I can’t stay away from you.”

“So don’t.”

“You just said you and Cowan—”

“It doesn’t fucking matter. None of it matters.”

Joel’s brain stalls, for a moment, seeing the flare in your eyes. He gets up slowly. Your hands move to your lap as he rounds the table, pulls you to your feet. There’s only inches between you, the air turning thick with tension. “Say it again,” he says, his voice hushed, almost a whisper.

You close the distance, stepping into his arms. His hands slip beneath the hem of your sweater, resting on your jean-clad hips, and Joel inhales deeply when your palms slide up his biceps, rest on his shoulders, one hand slipping up the back of his hair, wet curls twisted between your knuckles.

“Don’t stay away from me,” you murmur, tugging lightly at his hair, until his face is angled with yours. He can smell the whiskey on your breath, see the remains of the bruise on your cheek. He can feel your heartbeat, wild against his own, your chest against his. “Be with me, Joel, please.”

Your voice cracks on the please, and that’s what gets him. The tension snaps, and he can’t hold back anymore.

There’s no hesitancy in it. It feels like he’s kissing you for the very first time all over again — feels like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again. The press of your mouth is hot and wet, a tiny mewl falling from your lips to his as you hold him to you, your fingers tightening in his hair. He kisses your bottom lip, then the top, sinking his teeth into your flesh, pulling more tiny noises from you. God, he’s fucking missed you, so goddamned much.

You chase him when he pulls away, grabbing his lower lip between your teeth, making him groan into your mouth, giving you a hungrier kiss the second time round. He pushes you backwards, your boots tangling with his and suddenly you’re a heap of limbs on the ground. You actually laugh and Joel kisses the sound right out of your mouth, licking his tongue along the seam of your lips.

The motion makes you whimper, adjusting yourself beneath him until your thighs are spread either side of his hips, your boots planted on the ground. Everything in him feels white-hot, and he can’t stop kissing you, making up for lost time, pouring his apologies into his kisses, memorizing the way you feel and taste now.

“Joel,” you gasp out when he slides his hand along your jaw, tilts your head back on the wood floor, noses his way down your throat.

“Yeah, baby?” he murmurs into your skin, inhaling you deeply, kissing at your pulse.

“Take me to bed.”

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