#[This was the LONGEST summary I have ever written to the point that its a ONE-SHOT]

[purinfelix]

just for the weekend ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ - franco colapinto

summary: your teammate has an absolutely ridiculous plan to bring your team back from the dead - but it might be just crazy enough to work w/c: 5.5k + some smau style tweets warnings: a little angst, some uncomfortable touching/kissing since it's fake dating (not too bad but better safe than sorry), some miscommunication - just two idiots in love i fear

a/n: WOW it's finally here, fake dating is literally a guilty pleasure trope for me so i hope yall enjoy this HAHA - also sorry to Williams fans bc there's a lot of slander in this but trust its all for the plot <333 (also holy shit this is the longest fic I've ever written WOW)

"You're actually insane."

"Oh c'mon, at least think about it for a minute, it's perfect!"

You fold your arms over your chest and try your best to look uninterested in whatever it is your teammate has to say. The two of you had been racing together for a little over half a year now, and you had witnessed him make (at least in your opinion) a grand fool of himself. Flirting with interviewers, winking at cameras, having absolutely no filter during press conferences - but this, this was by far the craziest thing you had heard come out of his mouth.

"A fake relationship?"

"Ah ah ah," he tuts, jutting a finger in your face, "a media relationship, one that will draw the attention away from how crap we're doing and onto the personalities of the team. Think about it, McLaren has whatever Oscar and Lando have got going on and Ferrari basically has two models for drivers. We need something to put us on the map, to make people care about us!"

You pause, and for a minute you seriously consider his outrageous proposition - he isn't completely wrong. For the two of you, making it into the points range was a rare occurrence, and even though the team always made sure to celebrate it like a podium there was something that stung about constantly being at the bottom.

"Do you realise how much trouble we could get into?"

"Ah," he sighs, and it's starting to annoy you how lightly he's talking about this, "ever the pragmatist."

"Well one of us has to be if the other's going to keep saying stupid shit," you huff before turning around and beelining out of his driver's room.

Seriously, a fake relationship? Had he lost his mind? Maybe if he focused more on his racing you wouldn't be constantly outperforming him.

"At least think about it, okay?" You hear him call out from behind you, and consider yourself lucky to be facing the other way so that he doesn't catch your obnoxious eye roll. Surely he had to be kidding because there was no way you were going to devote any amount of time to this ridiculous thought.

God fucking damnit.

It was frustratingly confusing, the kind of power Franco had. You had witnessed it first hand with how smoothly he spoke to anyone and managed to get his way almost instantly - but this was your first time experiencing it first-hand. It was another weekend, another country, another race, but the only thing you could think of was his stupid consideration - which, with each passing moment, seemed increasingly genius.

You had almost a year of experience with the team over your teammate, and with that, your fair share of embarrassment and disappointment. Sure, his idea was a little out there but you were close to being at your wits end and if nothing else, you hoped this would at least be a little fun. Plus you were pretty sure at this point if you didn't act on this thought soon, it would start interfering with your performance.

"Fine," you said a little breathlessly as you burst into his driver's room ahead of a race.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, looking at you with a shocked look, "whatever happened to knocking? I could've been naked in here!"

You roll your eyes before continuing, "You still up to the ..." You pause, thinking of how best to word it, "Fake relationship thing?"

His eyes light up immediately, "Ah, I knew you'd come around eventually."

Letting out a soft huff, just to let him know that you still aren't fully convinced this will work, you sit down on his couch. "I think we should lay down some ground rules first."

"Yes ma'am." He nods, straightening up and forcing a serious expression you can only assume is mocking yours.

"Firstly, no kissing."

"Understood."

"Actually no public affection at all, holding hands, hugging, nothing."

"Oh sure and how exactly are we going to convince people then?"

You pause, thinking for a little, "Okay maybe hand-holding and hugs are fine, but you better not push it - that goes for the pet names as well." He nods with a satisfied smile.

"And no one other than us two can know this is fake, alright? Otherwise, it'll spoil the plan."

"Trust me, I don't need anyone knowing I'm going along with something as ridiculous as this. It'll be our little secret."

"Our little secret," he repeats with a hum, a sly sort of smile spreading across his face as he gets up from his spot. "See you after the race, my love."

You sighed in exasperation, tossing your phone to the side of the couch in your driver's room where it fell with a light thud. You had about a thousand other things to be worrying about - your pretty disappointing result in qualifying for one - but for some reason, the main thing on your mind was your 'relationship' with Franco. Somehow, it had proved even more intense than you had expected, which planted a seed of worry in your mind as you realised how hard this was actually going to be to pull off. Since his not-so-subtle announcement to a hoard of hungry press members at last week's race, the media had managed up a flurry about the two of you.

There were supportive fans who liked you both enough not to see any problem with two teammates dating, as well as others who were more sceptical about how it might impact your performance. However, what really seemed to get to you were those who doubted you more than the relationship.

Your social media had been bombarded with comments and theories about the reason behind your relationship, doubting your place on the grid, and calling you names that - after shedding the status of 'first girl rookie', you thought you had left behind. Regardless, you feel a little stupid for being so unprepared for all this - not just the tweets but the harsh articles, the questions during press interviews and even shouting fans. Maybe if you had done a little more thinking about it first, you would've realised this was a stupid idea that should've been left at just that.

Throwing your head back you let out an exasperated sigh, trying to clear your head so that you could move on and focus on the race that was happening tomorrow. The last thing you wanted was for this plan to start impacting your driving. But Franco always seemed to have the worst timing - or best, depending on who you asked.

"Hello?" A couple quick knocks alert you of his presence before he cracks the door just wide enough to peek in. "There's my beautiful girlfriend." The way the pet names and affection seem to come to him so easily makes you simultaneously impressed and concerned, unsure of whether it's an indication of his great acting or flirting skills.

"What do you want?" You try to make it as obvious as you can that you're not in the mood, and he realises this right away.

"Oh, nothing, I just wanted to ask if you were free after this."

"You know I'm not really a huge fan of the big team dinners, especially not when we have a race tomorrow."

"Oh it's not like that, I was just going to go check out a restaurant near our hotel and wondered if you wanted to join me."

When you finally speak it's just above a whisper, "Is this a part of the fake dating thing?"

He laughs softly, his ability to find everything entertaining has always amazed you. "If you want to, it can be. If that gives you a reason to come hang out with me, though if you don't it's totally fine."

"No, I'll come, not like I've got anything better to do." You hate how every word you've said so far has sounded so pathetic.

"Great, I'll meet you by the paddock entry in ten?"

"See you then."

The street lights were dim, just bright enough to illuminate the street the two of you were walking down. The night was cool and still, and there were barely any people out other than you. You weren't sure why, but you had ended up telling Franco a lot more than you had expected. Maybe it was the extremely fancy restaurant you had initially gone to or the local one the two of you agreed to ditch it for instead, or maybe it was just the freeing feeling of being in another country.

The two of you had talked before, of course - as teammates it was difficult to avoid. But beyond the casual small talk, discussions about strategies or banter during challenges your relationship never extended beyond casual co-existence. It was one of the reasons you were glad your higher-ups had never tried to force the two of you into a professional friendship. There was something about Franco, his ability to strike up a conversation and maintain it even when the topic clearly strayed far beyond his interests, that made him so likeable, so easy to get along with. And the support he got from fans and the media reflected this well. You just never felt like there was any room for you in that equation.

But here, away from the cameras and shedding the roles of drivers, the two of you became normal people. You spoke, you laughed, you vented to him everything that worried you about your 'relationship' and he listened throughout all of it - all the while the two of you shared the biggest, best, pizza you had ever had.

"I have to say, I don't know if our engineers will appreciate the extra weight I've just put on," he jokes, breaking the comfortable silence that had been lingering around you two as you walked.

"Me neither, they might have to roll me into the car at this rate."

"You know, I think this is the first time the two of us have hung out, just us two."

You think for a little before answering, "You're right."

"Do you think there's a reason for that?"

"You mean besides us both being extremely busy people and already seeing each other pretty often? Not really, no."

"Good point, though with our little plan, we're definitely going to be seeing each other a lot more."

There's a beat of silence. "This is nice though, right?" He asks, and his voice is so tentative you almost find it endearing.

"It is nice, this was fun." You try not to think too much about the fact the two of you could be mistaken by any passer-by as a couple of lovebirds on a first date - or that fact that even to those who knew you, you were.

"I appreciate you telling me all that stuff, you know, about what people are saying about you."

"Oh, if anything I should be thanking you for listening to me vent about it."

"It is serious though, I'm so stupid for not even thinking about what you'd have to deal with."

"Well I don't think either of us gave it enough thought but," you pause and look up at him, "we're too far in to back out now."

He shoots you a comforting smile, one that shows how reassured he feels that you seem to finally be coming around to his idea. That is, at least, before his face morphs into one of discomfort.

"God, I'm so full."

"We're almost back at the hotel now, let's just sleep and then we can wake up early tomorrow morning to-"

"Wait, is that ice cream?" Franco interrupts you to point out a street vendor who's about to pack up for the night, and before you know it he's running up to the man eagerly. You can only follow suit with a sigh, knowing full well you wouldn't mind some dessert either.

"You two are lucky, you'll be my last customers for the night," the moustachioed owner of the cart says with a warm smile.

"Thanks," you reply kindly, before turning to Franco, "what flavour do you think you'll get."

"Hm, not sure, maybe chocolate?"

"Wow, boring."

He scoffs, "Oh yeah? And what exotic flavour are you going to get then?"

"Mint choc," you smile, but your face drops once you see your teammate's disgusted expression.

"You've got to be kidding me, that's like the worst choice."

You feign offence, "How dare you insult the best ice cream flavour of all time?"

"Ah, you two are quite the couple," the man laughs and you watch as Franco's eyes widen in embarrassment.

"Oh we're not-"

"Thank you," it's your turn to interrupt him, turning to the man with a smile. "One chocolate and one mint choc chip please."

You go to reach for your wallet to pay but you feel a hand on yours, stopping you.

"No, it's okay, I got this."

"Wh- Franco c'mon you know full well both of us could afford about a thousand of these ice cream cones don't be ridiculous."

"I know," he smiles and even though he's trying to be serious you know he's also trying not to laugh, "but I just figured you know, I'm the one who dragged you out here and like, got you into this whole fake dating mess."

You furrow your brows, a little confused at what exactly he's getting at.

"I guess I just want to say thank you, you know?"

"Alright, alright," you laugh softly, watching as he pays and takes both of the cones, handing you yours. Once you grab yours, you instinctively loop your arm around his, pulling him close and resting your head against his shoulder. The ice cream man laughs endearingly at the two of you.

"You're the best boyfriend ever!" you say in as high and cute a voice you can manage, cringing a little but determined to keep up the bit - you don't even bother to think about how fast you can feel Franco's heart race when you do.

Last night was really nice. You're sitting next to your race engineer, nodding along as she points to various multi-coloured dots and lines on the screen. You hear yourself agreeing with a couple quick "mhms", "of course" and "yep"s even though you can barely hear what she's saying. You're mere minutes away from getting in your car for a race, getting briefed on your strategy, and the only thing you can think of is the 'date' you had with Franco last night - if you can even call it that.

You had thought that getting everything off your chest, the hate comments, the doubt you had, would help you feel better and relieve any worries you had. And it did, at least until you got back to your hotel room alone and caught yourself smiling at the thought of seeing your teammate again the next day. How, even as you washed up and got ready for bed, you found yourself thinking - pizza, ice cream, walking at night together, isn't that something a real couple would do?

"Are you listening to me?" your race engineer's voice cuts through the haze of your thoughts, causing you to straighten up immediately.

"Yes! Sorry," you mumble, but just at that moment, you see him walk into the garage, greeting a couple of the mechanics warmly. Before you realise it, he's beelining straight for you, his arm coming around your waist as he leans in close to your ear.

"There's a ton of cameras, I just wanted to be believable," he whispers, and when he pulls back you can see the smile on his face. You nod curtly, fully aware of how red your face feels over such a small interaction as he waltzes away.

"Okay, so as I was saying," your race engineer pipes up again, though you couldn't be paying her less of your attention - watching as your 'boyfriend' walks off, his brown hair illuminating in the afternoon light. For a fake relationship, the quickening pace of your heart felt far too real.

"Well you two have been teammates since the beginning of this year, can you tell us a little about when you realised you might be more?"

Your struggle was never-ending - or at least, that's what it felt like, finding yourself at the centre of an impromptu interview with Franco. Around you, the other drivers were getting questions about their place in their teams, how they felt about their current strategy and about their racing futures. And there the two of you were, getting thrown question after question about your 'relationship'.

"Well," you begin, before being saved by your teammate. You had to give it to him - he was great at making stuff up on the spot.

"Well, I think it was somewhere around a month after I first joined the team, and met her. It was just something about her, she's sort of electric in this almost untouchable way, you know?"

You try not to look too awkward standing next to him as he talks, feigning your best-interested smile - though a part of you is extremely intrigued by this fake story he's creating.

"At first I thought I just wanted to be like her, her passion and talent were just so respectable, but the more time I spent with her the more I realised it was something completely different."

He turns to look at you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him. Your expression falters a little as you're caught off guard by the sudden contact and as you turn away from the journalists and towards him, your eyes widen in shock at the sight of his pursed lips nearing yours. Before you realise it, his lips are against yours and you're pulling away as quickly as possible, face bright red. You're just barely aware of the thousands of flashing camera lights as you turn to quickly excuse yourself.

"Thank you all for coming, it was nice talking to you but, uhm, I have to go!" You hurriedly blurt out before slipping out of Franco's grip and darting off to your driver's room.

You hear his footsteps following closely behind you, as well as the sound of him calling out your name. When you near the door of your room, you turn around and grab his wrist to yank him in before you shut the door.

"What the hell was that?" is all you can muster out, "I thought we agreed no kissing?"

"Look, I can explain!"

You cross your arms with a huff, looking at him expectedly.

"I was just going to peck you quickly on the cheek, you know because we were getting all romantic and I wanted it to be believable! B-but then you turned, and then we," he's struggling not to ramble and his quickly moving hands do little to help. That's when you also realise his face is bright red as well, and he doesn't seem any less flustered by it than you do. "I'm really, really sorry I really shouldn't have done that."

You'd be lying if you said his explanation didn't make you feel any better. You're not actually upset about the kiss itself though, in fact, it's the opposite - actually, the grudge you're holding is doing little to help the internal struggle going on in your head. The kiss didn't make you angry, but the realisation that you wanted it to be real, did.

You sigh, rubbing your temples as you slump down in the nearest chair. Franco does the same on the adjacent couch, though his gaze stays carefully on you, almost afraid of what you might say next.

"It's fine, I think we just need to coordinate our PDA a little better then."

"Yes, of course," he nods quickly.

There's a beat of silence. "You're really good at acting though."

"What?"

"That whole story you made up about how you fell in love with me, it was really believable." You laugh lightheartedly trying to lighten the situation and alleviate the awkwardness that's settled between you two.

"Well it's pretty easy, I didn't need to make up much of it," his eyes catch yours and his gaze is soft when he smiles at you.

"What?" you're confused.

"Never mind," he scoffs lightly, his gaze dropping to the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. He looks almost disappointed at something, though you can't realise what. "Well, I'll leave you alone now. I really am sorry about what happened before." You watch as he pushes himself up from the couch, his head hanging guiltily - looking almost like a scolded puppy.

"It's fine Franco, really, please don't feel too bad about it." He nods thankfully before slipping out the door, leaving you alone.

Being a driver, hotel rooms had come to be a companion you knew far too familiarly. Their high ceilings, plush sterile white bedsheets, the empty bathroom - almost everything about them felt a sign of loneliness, of temporality, a house that never felt like home. Even though you knew how ridiculous it would be to complain about something that others would see as a privilege, it was hard to deny the isolation you felt whenever in a new country, away from most of your family or friends.

Maybe that's why you had been so eager to latch onto Franco's idea - it made sense, he had become the person you spent the most time with so why not give yourself some ridiculous reason to be around him even more? However somewhere along the way you stopped needing the reason of fake dating, somewhere in between hushed conversations, planned posts and candid photos - and instead found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. It was a little strange and sometimes acted as a sour reminder of how lonely you'd become but more than anything it felt like a blessing in disguise.

You were reminded of this fact as you lay, wrapped in a plush white hotel robe, across your messy bedsheets - laughing to yourself at the tweets your boyfriend had sent you. They were all about you, or the two of you, of course. Comments on the tiniest things, the way the two of you looked at each other, the way Franco held your hand, the way you worried about him.

"I feel a little bad, they're all so gullible," you typed quickly.

"Oh, so now you feel bad?" His response was almost instant.

"Don't you?"

"It's fun, isn't it? All this playing pretend."

Right, pretend. You rolled onto your back with a deep sigh, staring up at the tall hotel ceiling. All of this was just so confusing - as if figuring out how you felt about someone wasn't difficult enough, the two of you had complicated it by tricking the entire world into thinking you were in love. Whether you truly liked him or not, the idea was doomed for failure - and the more you thought about it, the more it seemed like the former.

"You're right," you typed back, watching intently as the three tiny dots appeared, disappeared then reappeared. What could he be saying that would need so much thinking?

"Can we talk tomorrow, after the race?"

You felt your stomach drop, had he finally caught on to how obvious you were being about how you truly felt, and decided that actually it might be better to just drop this whole act and go on as just teammates? With trembling hands, you typed back.

"Sure, what about?"

"I'll tell you then, for now, we should sleep."

"Goodnight Franco."

"Goodnight mi amor." You laughed softly to yourself at the nickname he had given you, though a small part of you took it as salt to the wound - almost as if he was dangling the possibility of something that could never happen right in front of your desperate little face.

However, not like you had a choice - all you could do now was get ready for bed and brace yourself for whatever tomorrow brought.

You couldn't believe it. The sounds of celebration erupted around you, but you sat completely still in your car, silent, attempting to process what had just happened. Your first win, and, your first double podium, with Franco. Your head was spinning as the never-ending stream of thoughts raced through your mind. Suddenly, you heard a voice coming from above your car's halo, muffled by your helmet. You flick the visor up, lifting your head as highly as you could - locking eyes with your teammate.

"We did it! Oh my god!" The excitement on his face is enough to send a slight surge of energy through you as he offers you his hand, helping you out of the car. When you do though, you stumble a little - the nerves are almost too much for you.

"Woah, you alright?" Even through the fog clouding your mind you can make out the concern in Franco's voice and feel his arms steadying you.

"Yeah, just-" you mumble, gesturing to your helmet and making weak attempts to undo the clasps underneath it. It's almost suffocating you, and the chaos going on around you isn't helping the pounding headache.

"Oh, let me," he reacts immediately, dropping his own helmet and bringing his hands below your chin to swiftly undo the clasps and pull the helmet off of you. You take a deep breath of air as you pull off your fireproof mask, though it sounds more like a desperate gasp.

Around you, the crowds roar with excitement, both your team and others as they make attempts to gesture at the two of you to join them. Your head spins though, and you wobble backwards into Franco.

"It's too loud," is all you can stutter out, though he understands you almost immediately, a strong hand gripping your wrist and pulling you away from the noise and somewhere quieter. You're not entirely sure where he's taking you but at that moment you feel as though you'd follow him just about anywhere.

Luckily though, when your eyes refocus you're in his driver's room, and even though outside you can hear the cheers continuing, you're offered some solace here, the walls muffling the sound. You sigh, sinking into his couch as you throw your head back, panting still.

You feel like it's all just too much - not just the physicality of the race, but the feeling of winning it, winning it with Franco, just Franco himself. When you finally manage to catch your breath you lift your head to see him standing over you, watching intently.

"Better?"

"Much better, thank you." You smile earnestly, "Though I don't think we'll be able to hide in here much longer, there is a cooldown room for this exact reason."

"Oh, I mentioned it to someone, not sure who but he looked important, and he said it would be okay."

You laugh softly, amazed at how he can seem so calm even at a moment like this.

"We did it," you say, still not being able to believe it.

"We did," he smiles, sitting on the couch next to you, "a couples podium."

You feel your heart skip a beat at the sudden reminder of your conversation last night, him mentioning he had something to tell you. Was this it? The two of you had achieved what you had been wanting this entire time, and there was no better time to let this ridiculous bit go than now.

You stare at the wall of his room, the gigantic flag of his home country, and let out a shaky breath, mustering up the courage to break the silence. "So..."

He turns to you, one eyebrow raised in interest.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" You're trying your best to keep your voice lighthearted, "it sounded serious."

"Oh, well about that," he seems to have forgotten it temporarily as well, but the fact that he turns to look at the flag as well, almost unable to maintain eye contact with you, isn't a good sign.

Maybe it's the adrenaline from the race, maybe it's the fact that both of you are going to be needed out on the podium in about ten minutes - or maybe it's the fact that you're so desperate to get out these feelings and make him understand how you feel, but you start talking before you even realise it.

"Look, Franco, I," you start, not entirely sure of where you're going to end up, "I know you asked me to do this whole fake dating thing with you and I completely understand if you want to end it now, I mean why wouldn't we? It's perfect!"

He looks at you confused, lips parted as if about to interrupt you but you continue anyway, stupidly.

"But, look, here's the thing," you turn to him now, and you're sure your face is bright red, "I don't want this to end!"

You let out a deep sigh, and clutch your hands together to stop them from shaking, though it doesn't help that Franco looks even more confused now.

"What?" he says, and your heart drops.

"I," you pause, struggling to find the right words, and struggling to get them out, "I think I like you, like, for real." Okay, not exactly the best choice of words but it'll do.

"Like, not for the whole fake relationship thing?" his tone is still concerned and he leans in a little for clarification.

"Yes! Okay, I know it's not exactly what we thought would happen and it'll probably jeopardise our relationship as teammates but there, I like you okay."

"When did you realise?"

"A couple days ago, I'm sorry."

There's a beat of silence, and you're left with the agonising feeling of your heart racing in your chest, waiting eagerly for his response - for him to laugh in your face, for him to get mad, for him to reject you.

But instead, you watch as Franco's confused expression melts into one of pure relief as he sinks back into the couch with a sigh. "Oh, thank God."

It's your turn to be confused. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that," he says, eyes fixed on the ceiling with the widest smile you've ever seen.

"Wait you mean you-"

"I win!"

You're absolutely speechless, not a single coherent thought on what is going on or how to respond. All you can get out is a confused sort of grunt.

"I win, I've liked you for longer!" he laughs, sitting up and grabbing your hands in his.

You feel as though your jaw is going to dislocate at how fast it drops, "I'm sorry?"

"Oh c'mon, we've been teammates for a year I know you're not that oblivious."

"Well, apparently I am because I'm really confused."

"I've liked you since the moment I met you, you idiot."

"Wh-" You're about to be offended at the name-calling until what he says finally hits you. He likes you. He has liked you. For ages. You idiot.

"Even when you proposed this to me?"

"Yep."

"Even when we went to get ice cream?"

"Yep."

"Even when you kissed me?"

"Y- well wait no that was completely unintentional," he holds his hands out in defence. You slump back, trying your best to process everything today has entailed, it's almost too much. That is until you feel Franco move a little closer to you, his arm stretching around your shoulders and gently moving your head to lay on his. At that moment, it all becomes clear, and you're suddenly unsure about why you ever felt confused about any of this.

"What now?" You say, barely above a whisper.

"We go and get our trophies," even though you're not looking you can hear the smile in his voice. "Though, before then."

You lift your head up off his shoulder to turn to him with raised brows. "Hm?"

"Now that we aren't fake dating, do the rules still apply?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'd really like to kiss you right now," he whispers, and there's a hint of nerves as you watch his eyes dart in between yours and your lips.

"Really can't wait can you," you tease, though you still move to close the space in between you to. But just before your lips can touch his there's a knock at the door, causing you both to slump back with a sigh.

"Hey, are you two in there?" it's your race mechanic, "you're needed, you know, on the podium."

You roll your eyes to show your obvious disappointment at being interrupted, though Franco just watches you with an endeared smile.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask, not being able to hide your own smile.

"I'm just thinking about how beautiful you're going to look up on that podium, and how I won't have to pretend not to be in love with you anymore."

Taglist : @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @cinderellawithashoe @vanicogh @taasgirl @claudiajacobs

@dripostsstuff @boiolay @earth-to-lottie @dejavuontrack @dudududu-fangirl

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@lovestruck-sky @im-an-op81-fan @blubra @vienoiserieetc

(don't ask me why it's formatted so weird, tumblr hates me)

[fayes-fics]

The Secrets We Keep: Pt I

Part II >>

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Knowing someone your whole life doesn’t mean they can’t surprise you…

Warnings: none yet… fluff and angst. Childhood friends, yearning, arranged marriage, kissing. Pt II will contain a warning/rating change.

Word Count: 5.1k (this part)

Authors Note: Part 1 of 2. My longest gestating WIP! It’s been more than 18 months since I received a request for this secret diary fic. Tulip Anon, I have no idea if you still follow me, but I hope you think I did your detailed request justice. I won't post your ask yet, as it contains spoilers for the second half. Betaed by the awesome @colettebronte, who I can’t thank enough. I’m in the process of writing Pt II, so there will be a gap between instalments. Enjoy! 🫶

-i-

For as long as you can remember, you have loved one man secretly. To the point that you cannot imagine your life without a deep, burning affection simmering in your very core, as fundamental to your existence as drawing air into your lungs.

Benedict Bridgerton.

Your families have been neighbours in Mayfair and Kent for many generations—two aristocratic dynasties that, despite enduring friendships, have never seen intermarriage. There have been attempted matches down the years, according to family lore, but nothing came to fruition. 

So when you were brought to Aubrey Hall as a mere babe in arms, the eldest daughter, there were many good-natured jokes that Anthony’s future wife had been born. But the Viscount, wonderful as he is, was not the man who stole your heart just a few short years later. A bright sunny day in June that you suspect Benedict may not even be able to recall, but you can with perfect clarity, even now, some fifteen years later. 

He picked you as the first person to join his team for a round of garden games. Paying you heed and ensuring you were included, patiently showing you the ropes and applauding your achievements, ignoring the ridicule from the other twelve-year-old boys for letting a girl - and a little five-year-old at that - join in their games. 

Ever since that day, all you have ever seen is his enormous heart and steadfast empathy: always the one to reach out to those excluded, to be supportive, and to love harder and more expansively than his siblings. Thus, unsurprisingly, he became the focus of your singular devotion—a childish adoration transmuting into something more profound and complicated as you matured.

On your fourteenth birthday, your mother gifted you a thick notebook. And it became your refuge, the private canvas on which you outlet your innermost secrets and thoughts. The beautiful but now slightly battered, silk-covered tome is still your most treasured possession even now, more than six years later, so close to filled now, with only a couple of blank pages left. Never long from your hands, but when it must be, carefully stashed under the floorboards of your bedroom. Its pages the reflection of a naive, growing heart. There is one person who features frequently on its crammed, jumbled pages. Sketches of his handsome face, mostly from memory, interspersed with ardent notes and poems that, while they may not mention his name, are written for him. Adoration writ large in every pen and pencil stroke.

Little were you to know that the secrets you keep within its hallowed pages would one day alter the course of your life…

-ii-

It's the evening of the Bridgerton Ball, and usually, you would be brimming with anticipation for such an occasion, a chance to see the man who holds your most ardent admiration. Instead, you find yourself glum, mechanically stepping into the dress your ladies' maid Rachel assists you with, staring blankly into the vanity mirror as she adorns your hair with jewels. Still reeling from your father's shocking announcement the previous day.

The inheritance of a European title had seen him spend eighteen months abroad. In his absence last spring, you were able to persuade your more indulgent mother to delay your societal debut—a yearning to be free in the ways you know no woman really can be for long. A compounding factor was spending the summer in the Highlands with her sister, your Aunt Eliza, a spirited, independent woman who taught you many things and encouraged your artistic whims. And when you were back in London, your mother’s somewhat inattentive running of the house meant you were often able to slip away in the evenings, spending your time deepening your passion for art. Frequenting galleries and conversing with artists led to you being drawn into the bohemian, artsy underbelly of Bloomsbury, a beguiling, exotic contrast to Mayfair. Another secret you keep.

Upon his return to England, your father was not best pleased to learn that not only had you been allowed to skip the previous Season, but Eliza had also taught you to fish, fence and hunt—most unladylike pursuits in his opinion. He, therefore, made it his mission to ensure not only would you debut this year but also a swift match should be made, lest you “get other fanciful, dangerous ideas”.

Perhaps that is why, yesterday, nary two weeks into your first season, he abruptly announced over afternoon tea that he had secured a match for you and the man in question would be dining with you all that evening. A deal no doubt brokered in a private gentleman’s club as if you were merely chattel to be traded.

Revulsion filled your every fibre as you were introduced to Lord Farringdon a few hours later. A wiry man twenty years your senior with a hawk-like countenance and a disdainful disposition. Apparently, a brilliant intellectual mind but accompanied by a mercurial, malevolent reputation. You had read in Whistledown rumours about his mistreatment of his household staff and his previous wife. A forlorn figure who became a recluse long before she died of consumption tragically young. The idea of being betrothed to this cold, abusive man turned your stomach—a seemingly outsized punishment for your rebellion. Once the man left, you had begged and pleaded with your father to reconsider the arrangement, but sadly, your appeal fell on deaf ears. 

And so here you are. Going to a ball at which your father plans to announce your engagement. The stately beauty of Bridgerton House is not as heartening of a sight as it typically is. Tonight, it feels more akin to a gallows.

As soon as you arrive, you are scanning the crowds for the only friend you know will understand just how ghastly your predicament is—Eloise Bridgerton. A kindred spirit whose interest in marriage is as scant as your own. Bonding over your similar yearnings for freedom, you have been good friends since you were little, many a day spent together as children running through the Kentish fields, escaping expectation and flouting convention.

Acutely aware of time running out until your father speaks up, you fiddle distractedly with your fan, impatiently awaiting her entrance.

“For heaven's sake, y/n, please cease your fidgeting!” your mother chastises under her breath, snatching away the item. “I do not see why you are so agitated. Tonight is to be a wonderful occasion for you!”

A myriad of caustic comments are on the tip of your tongue, but you swallow them down. The last thing you want is to draw attention, and you certainly don't want to be gossip fodder; these ballrooms are a veritable hotbed of eavesdropping if Whistledown is anything to go by. 

When the collective Bridgerton family finally enter their ballroom as hosts, however, your eyes can't help but drift to Benedict instead. A reflex from years of longing, even though it is his sister,  arm looped into his, whose counsel you seek tonight. You excuse yourself to fetch a lemonade as soon as you spy a window of opportunity—Eloise standing alone, looking excessively bored. Abandoning your glass, you hurry over to her.

“I have news…”  You try to keep your voice neutral but grab her arm and practically drag her away from anyone within earshot.

“Well, it cannot be good if you are willing to rip my arm off to impart it,” she remarks dryly as you lead her down a hallway.

“It is not,” you pull a face that you know will convey to her the gravity of what you need to divulge.

With a nod of understanding and a look to a nearby footman, she leads you beyond him into an area of the house off-limits for guests. 

“Tell me…” her tone is sincere as she ushers you into the library and closes the door.

“My father has seen fit to arrange a marriage for me. He is planning to announce it tonight, right here at your family ball!”

She says nothing, only a sympathetic noise as she pulls you into a consoling hug. The emotions you have been tamping down for hours escape as a couple of bitter tears, her arms banding tight around you. You are not sure how long, but you stand in a hug, just grateful for her steadfast support.

“What am I to do?” you whisper.

“I do not know,” she confesses. “Have you tried to reason with your father?”

“A hopeless cause…”  

Her mouth twists in understanding, knowing you will have put up a spirited defence as much as she would have. She detangles from you and goes to a nearby brandy decanter.

“It's the very least you deserve, frankly,” she points out, handing you a glass and pulling you into a loveseat with her, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, clinking her glass against yours in a silent but bittersweet toast about your seemingly futile situation.

-iii-

Half an hour later, your parents are distracted across the far side of the room with friends when a large hand grabs yours out of the blue. You startle when you realise it is Benedict, your heart suddenly in your mouth. Before you know it, you are wordlessly being pulled out of the French doors behind you and into the night air.

“Where are we going!?” you demand when you recover from the initial surprise, his gloved hand tugging yours along through the darkened gardens. 

“Shh, make haste, we must not be seen,” he hushes you but keeps moving, furtive and fast, your feet having to take extra steps to keep up with his long stride over the lush, dewy grass.

“Benedict…” you try again once you round a thick hedge into the rose garden.  “What is going on?”

He slows a little but does not relinquish his tight hold. Gravel path now crunching under his boots as the honeyed scent of damask hangs heavy in the air. 

“Eloise told me,” is all he offers. “So we are escaping.”

“W-we are?” you stutter, frowning, a claggy tumult behind your ribs at his use of ‘we’. 

“Yes! Or at least we would be if you would keep quiet… please…” he amends, sounding a touch contrite about his initial brusqueness, but speeding up again, headed straight for a small wooden door in a high stone wall, almost hidden behind long, draping ropes of ivy, glowing silver in the moonlight.

When you reach it, he releases his grip on your hand and shoulders the door open with considerable force. The weathered wood creaks loudly, almost splintering under the duress. He signals to the inky blackness of the deserted mews behind Bridgerton House.

“It is now or never, y/n,” he warns as you look back at the house, lit up with the life of the ball inside. “So what is your choice?”

He may be presenting it as an option, but really, you know there would only ever be one answer. You would accompany him to the ends of the earth if he so much as asked. And so wordlessly, you step through the doorway and into the narrow street beyond.

“Good choice,” he compliments as he follows suit and closes the door behind him. “You may stay at my friend Granville’s tonight,” he offers sagely, “I have not seen him in a while, but I will explain when we arrive; I am certain he can provide shelter.”

“Benedict, I already know Henry… Quite well, in fact.”

He looks taken aback as if it had not occurred to him that you may move in the same clandestine circles as he does. To be fair, you have always been discreet in your outings, and it’s not something you have divulged to anyone, including Eloise. Still, what confounds you more is why he is suddenly so seemingly invested in seeing you escape from your predicament. It doesn't entirely make sense.

“Well, then,” he cuts into your brief reverie, “you know Henry is a generous host and discreet about the affairs of others. Your father will not come looking for you there. It will buy some time to figure out what to do next. To ensure your freedom.”

“Freedom?” You scoff. “Benedict, as much as I may wish it, there is no other path open to me. Tonight is merely a delay tactic at best. The only way to stop my father’s pursuit of this union is if I marry another….”

The admittance of this truth out loud makes you restless, belatedly realising that it truly is your only way out. You stalk towards the main road, the faint glow of the street lamp guiding your way over the cobbles. You soon hear Benedict’s footsteps behind.

“That is ridiculous!” he exclaims as he attempts to catch up with you. “There are other options available to you…”

“Such as?” you whip around, raising your hands, countering his assertion. When he falters, you return to walking, throwing a tart addition over your shoulder: “Unlike you, a man, I do not have the freedom of choice.” 

“You should always have a choice…” he counters earnestly, still catching up to your furious pace.

“Should and do are different things, Benedict. You do not even know how lucky you are!” You add bitterly, rounding onto the main street.

A gust of wind causes you to pause and a shiver to run down your arms, your gauzy dress not enough to ward off the unseasonable chill in the air tonight. Ever the observant gentleman, Benedict shucks his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders. Uncharitably, your ire makes you attempt to shake it off, even while knowing it is intended purely as a chivalrous gesture. You are surprised when he seems to grasp your shoulders tighter, holding the heavy velvet in place. It is cloaked in his woodsy, citrus scent, your vexed state turning into an entirely different type of flush as he crowds closer to you.

“My birth has allowed me certain privileges, I concede,” he replies, his stare seemingly far away as you are unable to look anywhere but the dampness of his bottom lip, shimmering slightly in the lamplight. Then he tilts his head down to meet your eyes. “But that does not mean I am able to have everything I wish for in life, y/n…”

Your tongue burns to ask what it is that he wants but cannot have, yet you do not allow yourself to pry. But seeing the wistfulness in his gaze deflates your irritation, your long-held adoration for this man taking over, making you sigh.

‘You deserve the world, Benedict….’

His face morphs into one of breathtaking intensity, and you realise, horrified, you spoke those thoughts aloud. 

“As do you, y/n,” he murmurs, eyes sincere, your heart beating wildly as his chest vibrates against your own. 

The upheaval of the last day, the man you secretly adore abetting a somewhat daring escape, your heated exchange of words, the lateness of the hour, and the feel of his tall, lithe body pressed against yours…. It's all a dangerous cocktail that culminates in you being utterly impetuous, pushing up onto your tiptoes and mashing your mouth against his with no thought.

His lips are plush and warm, and suddenly, he is kissing you back. It's like a cannon firing in your chest as his warm mouth opens yours. Suddenly, you are urgently taking from each other. A sweeping tidal wave through you obliterates any kissing experiences you have ever had before. It’s a desperate slide of tongues, a passionate continuation of your sparring. His hands are like a hot brand through your thin dress as they sweep around to your back, tugging you into him, his heat, scent and taste overwhelming.

But all too soon you are pulling apart, a need for air in your lungs overriding the spontaneous, reckless moment. For a few seconds, you stare at each other, breathing each other's panted air, hands still grasping onto each other, almost confused by what just occurred… until the whinny of a passing horse carriage has you springing apart as if burned. 

Realisation engulfs his entire being. “Oh god! Please, please forgive me!” he stutters, backing away, holding his hands out in a conciliatory gesture, almost tripping in his haste to put space between you, even though it was you who kissed him. “Please, just go to Granville,” he counsels rapidly before turning heel and disappearing into the night, leaving you standing alone, unmoored and breathless, utterly turned upside down.

-iv-

You drift home in a daze, your family’s London residence only a few hundred yards away. Your escape plans are forgotten in the haze of tumbling thoughts about that blistering kiss. How fervently and immediately Benedict had kissed you back, how wonderful it felt to be caged in his arms….  Climbing into bed and passing out, still bewildered. In fact, it’s only the rude awakening of your bedroom door slamming open the following morning that brings you crashing back to your senses.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!” Your father roars, holding aloft what looks like the latest copy of Whistledown. “You have brought shame upon our family and likely ruination to your prospects!!”

Utterly alarmed, you sit bolt upright, blinking, taking a few moments before you can find your voice. “What are you referring to, father?”.

He glares at you, then throws the paper onto your bed and stalks out of the room without another word, puce with outrage. You know there will be crossed words at the breakfast table. The sight of your name on the crisp ivory page immediately draws your eye, and your stomach plunges as you read the paragraph:

The annual Bridgerton Ball last night was, once again, resplendent. A triumph that the dowager Countess can be rightfully proud of. Although less contentment could likely be gleaned from the behaviour of her offspring. The second eldest of whom was allegedly seen escaping into the unlit gardens hand in hand with none other than the most reluctant of this season's debutantes, the spirited Miss Y/n Y/l/n. Perhaps the rebellious Miss will not have to endure many more of society’s events that she so patently abhors, should a proposal from the most wayward of Bridgerton sons be forthcoming? I, for one, however, Dear Reader, am not holding my breath…

Hiding in your room as long as you can, hunger drives you to join the frosty lunch table, apologising for inadvertently ruining your father’s plans to announce your betrothal and meekly explaining the incident with Benedict as a complete misunderstanding. It was merely an old friend helping you to gather some air before the big news was to be proclaimed. His taking your hand was out of benevolent concern, nothing more, and when you suddenly felt unwell, he chivalrously saw you the few hundred yards home. The lies feel odd on your tongue, your thoughts only of Benedict’s mouth and body moulded hotly to yours as your father lectures about appropriate behaviour for a young lady and your family’s long-standing friendship with the Bridgertons not being an excuse for a lackadaisical attitude to impropriety.

“There is nothing else to be done now—I must secure you a special licence to be wed tomorrow before Lord Farringdon hears about this,” he decrees with finality, his tone brokering no argument.

You slump silently into your chair, dread creeping through every cell, silently chastising yourself for not following Benedict’s advice and running away. If only you hadn't been impetuous and kissed him, you might have been in your right mind to do so. It feels cruel that the one moment you chose to throw caution to the wind is the one moment that sealed a worse fate.

-v-

That afternoon, your mother ushers you to the Modiste, paying handsomely for a very rushed wedding dress. Something simple that can be finished at such a late hour. It will only be your family in attendance anyway; so much else seems unnecessary. As you stand forlornly upon the raised dias, ivory silk tacked up around you with pins; your mother announces she needs to depart to secure other last-minute arrangements, leaving your trusty ladies' maid to accompany you home once alterations are complete.

“You do not look a happy bride…” Madam Delacroix mutters after the tinkle of the bell above the door signals her departure.

“Your observation skills are certainly not lacking,” you respond quietly, craning to double-check that Rachel, your maid, is out of earshot, sitting listlessly in the front of the store, staring out of the window.

“I do read Whistledown, my dear,” she remarks delicately, “and this does not appear to be a dress someone marrying a Bridgerton would wear.”

Your stomach vaults at the implication; the thought of marrying Benedict has your heart going haywire, even as you know it would never happen. The crestfallen look as your mind flits to the awful man you will be marrying instead is one you cannot hide as she meets your eyes in the reflection.

“It is not indeed,” you sigh, “but Whistledown has rather accelerated my unfortunate fate. Hence the rushed dress…” you gesture to your outfit.

“Mr Bridgerton is a friend?” she digs delicately.

“Lifelong,” you admit, “but Lady Whistledown could not have been more erroneous in her assertions…”

“That you and Mr Bridgerton are together? Or that he would marry you?” 

You look away from the mirror and down to where she is crouched by your hem on your left side, taken back not only at her astuteness but her drive for information. Almost as if she were Whistledown herself.

“I do not mean to pry,” she modifies, “merely to understand your predicament. Maybe I can be of assistance? I have privately counselled many a young lady on the eve of their wedding. Be it a happy occasion or not. And have kept many a secret of the Ton. ‘Tis the reason my business is so successful, Miss y/l/n. A good modiste can be a trusted confidante.”

“W-we are not together,” you stumble out without meaning to.

“But you wish to be? Or perhaps something has happened between you?”

Your eyes dart furtively, and your cheeks heat at the memory, but you say nothing. 

“You need say no more,” she chuckles and offers a knowing smile that appears as much reminiscent as sympathetic.

You rapidly attempt to deflect. “I do not wish to be married to anyone, really. I do find it so unfair a man is free to pursue his passions in life, but merely due to my sex, I am not.”

There is a nod of understanding, and she stands up with her hands on her hips. “I keep a certain array of refreshments for special clients such as yourself.” She nods to what looks like a liquor cabinet partially obscured behind a curtain at the back of her shop. “If you can dismiss your maid, I can assist you on your last night as an unmarried lady.”

The suggestion is too intriguing to refuse. And Rachel will greatly appreciate your pin money.

A few hours later, you are sat upon a circular conversation chair, Gen, as she insists you call her, pouring you another snifter of brandy.

“Tell me, what is your passion?” she inquires, her polished French accent slipping a little, sounding far more East End than Parisian. Something about that makes you like her more.

“Art,” you answer wistfully, “not that I have many opportunities to practice beyond a private notebook. But it is my most prized possession.” You gesture to your pelisse, hanging on a nearby hook. “I have it with me always. I have sewn a secret pocket into all of my coats myself.”

“Ingenious! ” She declares. “You shall have my job one day!”

You laugh, feeling light for the first time in what feels like days, as Gen leans in, raising an eyebrow. “I can also see well why you may have bonded with Mr Bridgerton…”

You giggle and lower your eyes, taking a fortifying sip.

“But it is not just that, is it?” Her tone is thoughtful, delicate even, as she continues: “A life outside the boundaries of so-called polite society can be so very beguiling, can it not? I have seen you, Miss y/l/n, at parties in Bloomsbury…”

A panicked bile rises as your head snaps up.

“As I said before, I am always discreet,” she reassures, “your secret is more than safe with me,” she winks before taking a generous sip from her glass.

Possibly, it's the alcohol, but her understanding of your predicament and the fact she has, unbeknownst to you, moved in similar circles brings an odd sense of relief. Having a confidante, someone to finally share your secrets with, albeit a somewhat stranger, lifts a burden from your shoulders. Wonderful as Eloise is, being the sister of the man who secretly holds your heart is not without complications in many ways.

“Another?” she chimes animatedly, holding aloft the bottle.

You cannot resist that offer.

-vi-

It’s close to midnight when Gen loops her arm in yours as she guides you, quite inebriated herself, away from the hackney cab to the familiar abode of one Henry Granville. Her declaration that a party is what you need on your last night of freedom is definitely not one you would dispute. A myriad of heightened emotions roil inside as you await the door being answered: contentment at your newly cemented friendship with Gen, bewildered every time you think of your kiss with Benedict and abhorrence for tomorrow. 

As you wander into the debauched tableau of a party in full swing: the air thick with smoke and merriment, the sounds of pleasure, people consorting together, a hedonistic swirl of self-expression unfurling all around you—it all consolidates into a yen to be reckless. Take part this time rather than just observe as you have before. Alcohol mutating the simmering rage about the injustice of your circumstance into a yearning to experience pleasure, especially physical. To get lost in sensation on your one last night of liberty.

So when you encounter Sir Simms - Matthew - friend to your older brother, renowned rake, but quite handsome, you throw caution to the wind. He seems delighted to see you, instantly flirtatious and familiar in a way you would rebuff any other night but this one. Whispering in your ear how very bold you are to be at such a bohemian event and pondering what other adventurous experiences you might be willing to indulge in. At one point Gen pulls you aside, her breath sweetened with fermented fruits, as she leans in and counsels you to be cautious. But you rebuff her concerns, swatting away her hold and returning to Matthew, allowing him to pull you into a kiss. 

It’s not the same as with Benedict; your mind screams at the altogether more jarring experience. A wet invasion of tongue that is less pleasant and certainly doesn’t fire anything inside you the way that he had. Merely kindling a defiant resolve to rage against the dying light of your freedom. And so when he slurs into your ear, you consent to his invitation upstairs, knowing fully the implications of what will transpire—feeling vaguely detached from yourself as he pulls you along by the hand towards the staircase. 

Suddenly, your field of vision is filled with dark blue velvet, a strong arm wrapping around you, caging you into a warm body mass, disconnecting your hand from Matthew’s—crossed words in two male voices. A momentarily confusing blur that only begins to make sense when you tilt your chin up… and the breath is quite stolen from your lungs.

Benedict.

At first, it feels like a cruel mirage, the man you most desire here to stymie your last gamble at impulsivity. His hold is strong as you sense Matthew shrink away, defeated by Benedict’s threat to expose some dalliance or other. But as he whisks you to an empty room within the house, all you feel bubbling up is anger.

“Stop trying to rescue me!” you rail, reeling out of his grip and stamping your foot to emphasise your point, uncaring that you may be behaving more akin to a petulant toddler.

“Stop making foolish decisions!” he lobbies back after a fleeting wounded look.

You glare at him momentarily before turning your back and staring out of the window into the inky blackness of Granville’s garden, frustration prickling a tear in the corner of your eye.

Behind you, there is a sigh; then his voice turns softer. “Why did you not follow my advice? I came here this morning only to be informed you never arrived…”

That he came to check on you weakens your bluster, although you still have no earthy idea why, once again, he is so invested in your actions. But you are not done saying your piece. 

“What does it matter now?” you bite bitterly before spinning around to face him. “Benedict, we are in Whistledown. My father would have arranged a special licence for tomorrow regardless of whether I had come here or not…”

“He did what?” he splutters, shock almost choking the words.

You square your shoulders and cross your arms defensively. “I am to be married in the morning. 11am at St George’s.” When all he offers is floored silence, you uncharitably dig the knife in. “No thanks to you...” 

Your words are like a body blow, a world of hurt in his quiet tone as he stares at the ground. “I was only trying to help.” 

Regret floods your every cell; why you would choose to lash out at him, even you don't know—so many conflicting feelings and strong liquor coursing through you.

“Please… let me return to the party,” you sigh wearily, after a beat, gesturing to his blocking your exit from the room.

“You would regret what you were about to do until your dying day,” he attests, lifting his head, a vein on his forehead pulsing as his jaw tenses.

“Perhaps,” you shrug. “But that is my burden to endure, not yours.”

“I am your friend,” he frowns, “I will always want to alleviate your burdens…”

“I do not want a friend, Benedict, not tonight. I want a beau.” If you aimed to shock him, you are successful; a cavalcade of expressions warring on his face as you plough on. “So please move so that I may continue with my most inadvisable plan….”

“No.” It's soft but unequivocal, resolute.

When you realise he is not going to budge, you throw your hands up in exasperation. “What do you want from me, Benedict?” 

There is a gruff noise in the back of his throat, and then, with two determined strides, he is pressed up against you, his breath hot on your face. Then he is kissing you, ferociously, wantonly, opening your mouth with his, his hands encircling your waist and pulling you roughly into him.

And you are lost.

masterlist • wips • taglist (follow this blog to be tagged)

Benedict taglist pt1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies

[cl3fairyyy]

hide and seek || edward nashton / the riddler x fem reader (nsfw !) ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

summary || your sex life recently with edward has been non existent. with him being so focused on his plans for gotham, you have found your needs being neglected. you decide to take initiative and plan a fun game for edward while he's at work.

warnings || SMUT!! there is plot but this is pretty much straight up porn lol. reader and edward role-play a kidnapping scenario but everything is consensual!! slapping, restraints, degradation, light knife play, overstimulation, p in v, pussy eating, choking, hunting(?kind of?), (fake) threats of violence, mentions of stalking, the suit stays ON during sex, some weird purity/ corruption stuff in this idk i think a demon possessed me halfway through writing this. minors please do not interact!!

word count || 4k i did not mean for it to be this long oopsie!!

notes || i haven't written smut in a LONG time so i am so sorry if this is straight up garbage pls go easy on me. recently reread year one and im seriously going insane the hyperfixation is so back guys. i love writing edward so much especially when it comes to writing some nasty porn about him LOL. i srsly had no idea how to end this so its kinda bad sorry D:

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚ ˚★

In recent months, you have found yourself growing increasingly frustrated. For the longest time, you haven’t had the faintest idea of what has been causing this, and that has caused it to manifest itself in various ways throughout your everyday life. You have found yourself much more easily annoyed by the most minor inconveniences, and have had repeated warnings at work to stop arguing with customers over the pettiest of matters. 

One afternoon in late November, whilst attempting to share in your boyfriend’s body heat on the sofa of your freezing living room, watching the news and listening to him ramble about finally ‘revealing the truth,’ it hits you. 

Edward hasn’t fucked you in months. 

Even before this change, you didn’t have the most active sex life- you were both too busy holding down your day jobs whilst simultaneously investigating the corruption poorly concealed beneath Gotham’s cobbled streets. Still, you’d find the time every other week or so to take care of each other. 

You love having sex with Edward; he’s so gentle with you, handling you like a precious gem that will shatter if dropped. He always makes sure your needs are met before he even thinks of himself, worshipping your body with an obsession akin to a deeply faithful Catholic’s love for Christ himself.  

But sometimes... it can get boring. Not as boring as not having sex at all, but boring enough that you often find yourself lying awake at night, longing for Edward to keep up his Riddler persona for just a little while longer after he arrives home from doing whatever he does to have the coppery scent of blood soaking into the walls of your small apartment. 

You know your frustration will only worsen the longer you go without having sex, so you decide to do a small experiment. 

You take the next few days off work, pretending to be sick, and Edward, usually ever attentive to your every need, your Edward, who begins panicking if you all but sniffle the wrong way, barely notices. With your theory proven that his work has been turning him into someone who is evidently not your sweet Edward, you begin doing everything you can for even an ounce of attention from him. You give him shoulder massages after he returns home from a long day at work, cook him his favourite meals, run baths for him, at some point it evolves into you all but throwing yourself at him, and you have to take a step back to reevaluate your approach. Being that desperate for sex is not a good look, especially when your boyfriend is completely oblivious to how horny you are.  

You decide you need to formulate a plan to force him to focus on you. 

It starts with the lingerie. You scour the shopping apps on your phone for an embarrassingly long time, trying to find something perfect. You eventually come across a pretty lilac set, its sheer mesh bra framed with soft ruffles and feminine frills to accentuate your chest, and immediately order it, even begrudgingly spending a little extra for next day delivery. 

The next step of your plan is to come up with a simple puzzle, something stimulating but still to the point- you're so horny that you know the next time you’re in a room with Edward while he still has that Riddler costume on, it’s going to take some real self-restraint to stop yourself from ripping it off him.  

The final step of your plan is waiting for the perfect moment to put everything into action. You realise it isn’t the most complicated or glamorous scheme to ever exist, but if it manages to work and allows you to finally get some action, you won’t be complaining.  

One evening, when it’s well past 5pm, and definitely well past the time Edward should have been home from the office, you get a text from your beloved. 

hi honey, moved tuesday’s plans forward to today. got an opening with savage and cant miss it. will be home late- ill pick up food on my way back. love you. 

we’re finally making some REAL change : ) 

You almost leap out of your chair with excitement, rushing around the apartment to make sure everything is in place for your little game of hide and seek. 

When Edward finally returns home, the apartment is dark- it’s well past 11pm, so he figures you’re in bed. He sighs, setting down the takeaway bag on the coffee table and calling out your name, pausing when you don’t answer. You always wait up for him when he’s running his late-night ‘errands.’ When he thinks about it more, he realises you didn’t even text him back earlier this evening; you’ve been sick, too- what if you collapsed, or had complications, or worse?  

Before he can begin panicking, he finally notices the lit candle on the kitchen counter. Next to it is a piece of paper, which Edward gingerly picks up with shaking hands, reading the five words scrawled across it. 

‘Dear Riddler, 

Come find me.’ 

Confusion clouds Edward’s mind for a moment before he realises that he’s reading your handwriting, and the sweet flowery scent giving him a headache is his favourite perfume of yours. He stands still for a moment, rereading the note as the familiar feeling of want begins to curl in his lower belly. You’ve never actually addressed him as the Riddler before. 

He definitely likes it. 

You crouch uncomfortably in your hiding space beneath the dining table, straining your ears against the silence of the apartment as you try to gauge how Edward has taken your little game based off his breathing. You hear the rustling of fabric and the sound of something zipping up, and realise he must’ve slipped his jacket and mask back on because his breaths are definitely muffled now.  

He begins taking slow, deliberate steps around the apartment, his combat boots loudly thudding on the wooden floorboards as he does so. You suddenly feel very vulnerable in only your undergarments and wonder if this is how his victims must feel, a thrill tingling deliciously up your spine. 

You shift a little in your spot, trying to find a way to crouch comfortably while also remaining out of sight. Your heart pounds so hard in anticipation of being spotted that you’re sure Edward can hear it, especially when his footsteps begin to head towards your hiding spot.  

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the sound of your breathing to an absolute minimum; the silence in your apartment is deafening and, for the first time in all the years you have known him, you begin to feel almost weary of Edward’s presence. In this moment, you’re not just Edward’s partner. 

You’re his prey. 

So wrapped up in your own mind, you don’t hear Edward’s footsteps behind you. You feel two strong, gloved hands grab your hips and rip you out of your thoughts. You squeal giddily as Edward throws you onto the wooden dining table, biting your lip to stifle the giggles that threaten to spill out. 

Edward looms over you, his glasses glinting in the moonlight that seeps into the apartment through the cracks in the blinds. He is completely silent, save for the heavy breaths muffled by his mask. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and raspy, and the sound of it sends tiny shivers of excitement up your arms. 

“I’ve been watching you for so long. Every move you make, I’ve followed from the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to snatch you up. Do you know how hard it’s been? Hearing your pathetic whimpers while you fuck yourself every night, and having to wait until it’s me making you unravel? But now I have you here, all to myself, and no one is around to save you.” 

The sight of him like this, so indescribably large compared to you, looking down on you like a lion that has captured its prey and is about to rip it to shreds- it sends sparks of arousal through you that pool in your sheer underwear. You look up at Edward through your eyelashes, smiling innocently. 

“Looks like you caught me.” 

With that, he drags you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he heads towards your bedroom. Your face burns, unsure of when or how he got so strong, and the anticipation of what he is about to do to you sends tingles of delight down your spine. 

Edward throws you carelessly onto the bed before straddling you. He wordlessly grasps your wrists in one gloved hand, holding them above your head while he rips off a piece of duct tape from the roll that dangles from his belt, and binds them together securely. He subtly tilts his head to the side, and you can read him so well at this point that you know he’s asking if your restraints are too tight. You shake your head, and he immediately melts back into character, sweeping his gaze down your exposed body predatorily.  

His gloved hands reach forward, roughly groping your breasts, pinching and rolling your clothed nipples between his fingers. You squeak, writhing beneath him, deciding to put on a bit of a show with it. 

“P... please, don’t...” you whimper pathetically, bucking your hips into his. You hear him groan under his breath above you, removing one hand from your chest to grip your chin harshly, squishing your cheeks together. “Shut up.” His voice is low and dangerous when he speaks, a complete contrast to the sweet voice Edward usually addresses you with. “You’re trapped here, and no one is coming for you. You can scream as loud as you want, it won’t make a difference.” 

“You’re so pitiful, dressed up like one of those whores on the street just to get my attention.” He breathes out slowly, slipping a gloved finger beneath your bra to massage your nipple. “I can’t say it hasn’t worked, but a whore is still a whore. You need to be cleansed, like the rest of the filth in this city, and the only person willing to do that is me. That’s why,” he pauses, the hand gripping your chin roughly yanking your mouth open as he leans over you, pulling up his mask slightly and spitting in your mouth, “you will take everything I give to you like a grateful little bitch.” 

He slaps your face, hard enough to sting but not enough to bruise, and you swallow the mixture of your saliva and his. You can’t stop the moan that slips out from between your parted lips, and he locks eyes with you, his pupils blown so wide with arousal that his eyes appear completely black in the low light. He leans forward again, pulling up his mask, and harshly kisses you, pushing his tongue into your mouth as his knee forces your legs apart. You whimper when you feel his erection brush against your thigh and he bites down on your bottom lip, hard. He moves his focus to your neck and collarbones, attacking the sensitive skin with kisses and bites, marking every inch of you that’s visible. 

“This is so,” he murmurs breathlessly between fervent kisses to your skin- and, Christ, is he smelling you?- “everyone knows you were fucked by the Riddler. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For everyone to know that you’re such a whore that getting fucked by a serial killer gets that pathetic cunt of yours completely soaked.” You moan at his words, arching your back to press your chest against his as you grind against his knee. 

“Such a needy little thing. One touch from me and you’re already at my complete disposal.” He leans back on his heels to look over you, your hair a complete mess, your lips swollen and as red as the flush on your skin. The strap of your bra has slipped down your shoulder and Edward’s breaths become haggard as he reaches for the knife on his belt; he cuts away the fabric hiding your breasts from him, much to your dismay (that lingerie set was pretty fucking expensive), and immediately takes one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before biting down lightly. You moan louder, squirming against your restraints and trying to pull away from him. 

He slaps you again, harder this time, running the flat side of his knife against the mark that begins blooming on your cheek. “If you don’t shut up and take it like a good girl, I'll have to hurt you.” He presses a chaste kiss to your parted lips. “I wouldn’t want to ruin a face as pretty as yours.” 

You whimper, rubbing your clothed core against Edward’s thigh, feeling the arousal in your lower belly build from the stimulation. Edward certainly doesn’t miss this, his eyes widening slightly as he peels your underwear away from your pussy. A string of your own slick connects you to the mesh fabric, and you can hear the amusement in Edward’s voice when he says, “oh, I’m going to ruin you.” 

He cuts your underwear away, dragging his knife down your body painfully slowly. You shiver from the cool metal, whining from frustration when Edward’s gloved fingers spread your glistening folds, pointedly ignoring your throbbing clit. 

“You pathetic girl... so wet for me. No one else could get you to react like this from their words alone, could they?” You shake your head rapidly, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get closer to Edward’s fingers. “Say it, then.” He begins lazily rubbing circles into your clit, causing you to cry out with relief at him finally touching you. He runs the blunt end of his knife across your neck, twisting it in his hand so the tip presses into your skin, not quite breaching your flesh. “Nice and clear for me. Tell me that you’re my bitch.” 

You moan when he begins speeding up his movements on your clit, stumbling over your words. “I.. I’m your- your b-” He cuts you off with another slap to your cheek, and the action sends a sharp jolt of pleasure right to your clit, causing you to choke out a moan. “Not quite, pretty girl. Try again. Whose bitch are you?” Your eyes narrow with confusion for a second before you realise what he wants you to say. 

“I’m th- the Riddler’s bitch.” 

He nods, satisfied, pushing two gloved fingers inside of you while the other continues rubbing your clit. You can feel your orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast, whimpering and giving Edward a pleading look. 

He nods wordlessly and you unravel, your orgasm enveloping your body in a blissful warmth as your pussy clenches hard around Edward’s fingers. He breathes out through his nose, hard, as he watches you cum, his cock throbbing at the feeling of your pussy spasming around his fingers.  

Edward pulls his fingers out of you when your body finally finishes shaking, inspecting your wetness on them in the low light of your bedroom for several moments, before pushing them under his mask and sucking them clean. He moans at the taste of you, and you feel his dick twitching against your leg as he closes his eyes, savouring you. He sighs, opening his eyes. 

“I need more.” 

Before you can react, he’s gripping your waist with strong hands, dragging your body up against him, holding you up almost completely off the bed, and hooking your legs over his shoulders. Edward gazes at your drenched cunt with a hunger in your eyes that you've never seen displayed by him, his breaths deep and shaky as he smells the arousal leaking out of you. You squeak, thighs still quivering from your previous orgasm. 

“W-wait, Ed- Riddler, I... I’m still t-too sensitive for...” You cut yourself out with a cry of pained pleasure as he latches his mouth onto your pussy, pushing his tongue into your sensitive hole. You sob as he sucks on your clit, shocks of overstimulation wracking through you as you weakly kick your legs against him, your body growing limp. The sounds Edward makes as he devours your pussy are obscene, the room filling with echoes of your cries and Edward’s moans as he sucks and licks crudely at your sex. 

He pulls away occasionally, praising and degrading you in barely coherent pussydrunk babbles: “such a perfect girl for me,” “stupid bitch, such a needy whore for your savior,” “so pretty with mascara running down your face,” “any louder and I'll give you a real reason to cry,” “taste so good, i need all of you.” And it’s all so much, his tongue writhing so deep inside you, the grip of his hands on your ass, the cool leather biting into your flesh, the way he moans and ruts into the bed from the taste of you, and before you can even breathe you’re cumming again, and you’re cumming so hard your back lifts off the bed entirely, the strength of your orgasm rocking you all the way to your core. Your mind goes blank as a chain of choked moans and sobs spill from between your lips, all you can focus on being the way Edward continues to fuck you with his tongue all the way through your orgasm. You can feel your slick sliding down your thighs, and when Edward pulls away you can see it dripping down his chin, and you don’t miss the proud grin on his face as he pulls down his mask. 

He drops you back onto the bed, straddling you once more and wiping your slick from his chin with his finger, motioning for you to open your mouth. You obey him and he pushes the digit inside, motioning for you to suck it clean. When he pulls his finger from your mouth, his eyes darken, and you can practically feel the smug smile in his words. “Such a good little girl for me, aren’t you? No one can make you cum like I can... and I can still smell how horny you are for me. You’re so needy, yet you’re never satisfied.” 

He tilts his head, and the dim light from the lamp behind him illuminates him similarly to a halo, and you almost find yourself beginning to create a religion in your head just to worship him. 

“I don’t think you’re being very grateful.” 

You begin crying out words of thanks, rubbing your legs together to lessen the ache of overstimulation. Edward's knees cage you in, and he grips one of your thighs with his hands. 

“Quit your grovelling and stop fucking moving when I’m talking to you.” His hand travels to your face, cupping your cheek with a surprising tenderness as he sighs. “You’re still so filthy... look what this city has done to you. I suppose I’m your last hope.” 

He unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers, finally freeing his cock from its confines. The tip is an angry red and leaks with precum, and Edward lets out a breathy moan as he strokes it. He spreads your legs, lining himself up with your sex and pushing into you slowly. He gazes down at you, a complete mess beneath him, and groans. “You’re so lucky... being fucked by Gotham’s salvation...” 

You can barely think, let alone speak, and when Edward begins moving his hips, his thumb finding your clit and massaging it, you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks. He moves in and out of your agonisingly slowly, and when you look up at him, you can make out that his eyes are closed as he savours the feeling of you. 

“Your virgin pussy is so... so fucking tight. Oh... h-how does it feel to be fucked by your saviour? Your God?” 

You sniffle beneath him, choking on your sobs as he speeds up to a punishing pace, his cock bruising your insides. He grabs at every inch of you, his hands finding refuge around your throat. 

“Oh, you’re so good. You were so filthy, but I will cleanse you. I will purify you; I will plant the seed of hope within you, and you will be saved.” 

He babbles on as he fucks you, squeezing his fingers around your throat, verging on crushing your windpipe but never quite gripping hard enough. You cry out for him, so cockdrunk and lightheaded from your sudden lack of oxygen that you find yourself looping your bound wrists around his neck, pulling him forward and crashing your lips to the rough leather of his mask. He makes a noise of surprise before his fingers once again find your clit, rubbing at it desperately as his hips begin to stutter against your own. 

Edward, ever the gentlemen, wants you to cum before him; you feel your cheeks grow warm at the thought, and pull away to look at him. You can barely keep your focus on him, your vision going hazy, and he begins assaulting your clit with more fervor. 

“Be a good little angel and cum for your savior.” 

Your vision goes white as the orgasm rips through you, your entire body spasming as your pussy clenches down hard on Edward’s cock. He has to stop moving to prevent himself from cumming as he guides you through your own orgasm, his fingers weaving through your hair as he coos at you. 

“Yes, that’s it. Such a perfect girl. So pretty cumming on my cock.” 

He begins speeding up again, his hips slapping against yours with a clumsy rhythm, his breathy moans growing louder and more desperate with each thrust. You lay, exhausted, whimpering incoherent words of encouragement to him as he chases after his own climax. 

You feel him begin to pull out and you weakly wrap your legs around his hips. “W-want you inside. Need... need you to cleanse me from the inside.” 

Your words are what tip Edward over the edge, and he whimpers loudly as his cum spills inside you, his hips grinding into yours as he relishes in the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

Thank God you're on birth control.

Edward slowly pulls out of you and cuts the duct tape that binds you, gently pressing kisses to the insides of your wrists. He pulls off his fogged up glasses and his mask, placing a gentle kiss to your lips as he smiles at you worriedly. 

“I didn’t go too far, did I?” 

There's your lovely Eddie.

You shake your head, laughing weakly and he smiles, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he helps you to your feet and guides you to the bathroom, letting you use his body for support. Edward sits you on the lip of the bath and dampens a towel, gentle cleaning you up and placing loving kisses to every bare patch of skin he can reach. He reluctantly leaves you alone to freshen up as he straightens up the bed, changing into his pajamas and finding your favourite t shirt of his to sleep in. 

When you re-enter the bedroom, with a slight limp that Edward definitely notices but refuses to comment on, he dresses you and tucks you into bed before lying next to you, brushing your hair out of your eyes. 

“Sorry I’ve been so... distant lately.” 

When you go to answer him, he rubs his thumb soothingly on your cheek and you get the message that he hasn’t finished talking. 

“We have big things planned, we both know that, but... it wasn’t right of me to not look after you when, now that I look back at it, you really made it obvious that you needed me to. I hope you can forgive me.” 

You smile, pressing a shy kiss to Edward’s lips. 

“Don’t apologise, Eddie. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You can apologise tomorrow when I can’t feel my legs or sit down properly for a week.” 

He laughs and buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.  

“I really love you, you silly girl. A-and..."

He pulls away from you but continues to avert his gaze, his cheeks pink and a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

"The, um, th-the lingerie was very pretty, you looked really lovely. I'm, ah, sorry about..."

He doesn't meet your eyes and you snort, bringing a hand to rest on his cheek with a fond smile.

"Yeah. That I'm not so quick to forgive. You have no idea how expensive nice underwear is when you're a woman."

Edward laughs shyly, delicately holding your wrist and pressing tender kisses to your palm that leave you melting. The heat in his eyes, however, is undeniable.

"I absolutely will not complain if you decide to spend all my money on pretty lingerie and then decide to model said lingerie for me."

"You're unbelievable."

You both laugh as Edward continues peppering soft kisses up your arm, then your bruising neck before finally meeting your lips in a tender kiss. He pulls away, and the way he looks at you with such love and adoration almost makes you tear up.

Edward twirls a strand of hair around his finger, pulling you closer to his chest. His fingers reach up and he begins combing them through your hair properly, whispering sweet praise to you as you find yourself dozing off.

[retroellie]

Daryl x reader but at first she gets on his nerves? Almost enemies to lovers

Summary: Daryl hated you, completely despised you. His hatred for you turned into something more after just one night with you.

A/N: This is probably the filthiest and longest thing I've ever written :). So enjoy asf!!! This was literally hell to write because i have writer's block right now so my mind is somewhere else right now

Warnings: NSFW, Degradation, Slapping/spanking, Daryl just being mean asf. Kind of a toxic relationship?!?

Word count: 8K

Daryl was at peace in this moment, complete and utter peace. The river slowly rushing against the earth, the soft wind blowing against his skin, the bright light of the sun bursting the stress from his face. Ever since he had gotten away from Alexandria he felt he was where he belonged, nature. Ever since he was a kid, rivers and forests were his safe haven. The only living thing to be seen was the animals and even then they were fearful of humans.

That's how Daryl felt in a way, fearful of humans and what they can do, that's why he resided with animals. They had their packs and stayed with them, never getting too close to other packs. It was just him and his home, of course with the dog too. But despite the healing of the river or the wind whispering into his ear, this wound could never be healed for Daryl. He was out here for a reason and this time it wasn't trying to run away from his dad.

It was for Rick, his friend, his family.... his brother. This was a deeper wound than any he'd ever had, mental or physical. He was angry, hurt, and guilty for what he had done, especially with the silence that came with nature. He looked for days on end, and those days turned to months, and months turned to years. He felt like he was going crazy, but he knew Rick was still alive and if he wasn't... he just needed to give the people that confirmation.

He took the knife and gutted it into the fish, cleaning it out until it was just the meat on its bones. It was a chilly day, enough to have the dog cuddled up on Daryl's leg as he gutted the fish. Daryl didn't mind the cold, he actually liked it better than the heat and it kept the dead away better. He continued his work, frying the fish on the fire as he poked at it softly, mesmerized by the crackles of the fire.

Suddenly a branch snapped behind Daryl, he didn't hesitate in pulling his crossbow from next to him and pointing it at the sound, ready to fire at any minute. He almost squeezed the trigger, almost letting the arrow go right into the head of his attacker. But suddenly his eyes made out who it was and realized it was you. His body feels relaxed but only to be filled with annoyance.

"It's just me!" You put your hands up in surrender, dropping what you had been holding in your hands.

Daryl watched as you shook, fearing that Daryl might actually shoot you at that moment. Daryl sighed, putting down his crossbow and rolling his eyes.

"Damn it, girl! I coulda killed you!" Daryl yelled. Of course, the first time he talks in days is to scold you for something.

Daryl sat back down in his spot, throwing down his crossbow in anger as he went back to cooking his fish. He suddenly wished he would've pulled the trigger, maybe then he could tell everyone it was an accident.... as if anyone could miss you. If Daryl said he hated you, it was an understatement. He despised you, he wondered how you survived this long without a bullet to your head.

"I know... I'm sorry.." You tried to defend yourself. "Carol asked me to drop some stuff off... I didn't mean to scare you.."

You bent down to gather what you had in your hands, the bag you had broken when you dropped it. You shoved everything in the bag and stood up, standing still as you watched Daryl cook his fish. You never knew why Daryl couldn't stand you, it made you a bit sad at first because you envied him. You thought he was the coolest person ever, with his crossbow and his motorcycle. Part of you thought it was because you genuinely thought he was a cool person but the other half knew it was because of what he did to your underwear.

"Carol told me to bring you more arrows and some extra clothes... I threw some food...." You went to finish but Daryl was annoyed by your voice already, wanting you to shut up and leave already.

"Why couldn't she do it?" He interrupted

You forgot how much of an asshole he was and at that moment, you were kind of glad he was staying out here instead of in Alexandria. The only reason you liked him staying at Alexandria is how his arms looked when he was working on his bike... but that's all it was to you, just a silly little crush or not even that, you'd be more than okay if he fucked you and dipped. You cleared your throat, collected your words, and shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh well... Henry is sick, he has some kind of stomach bug and well I was at the kingdom so she asked if I could bring it to you on the w..." Once again you can't even get your words out without Daryl being a complete dick to you.

"I didn't ask for a story." He said sternly, not even looking at you but you knew his face had that ugly, yet strangely arousing, annoyed look written all over it.

You sharply inhaled, slightly hurt at his words. You just stood there though, not sure what to do next. You could just throw his shit down or not and leave, but unfortunately, you were too tired to go on. You had been walking all day and here to Alexandria would be at least another 3 hours. You just thought maybe some rest would be nice, maybe a bit of that fish he was cooking but you knew Daryl.

Daryl hadn't liked you ever since you two had met, he was always such a dick to you and you had no idea why literally no idea. You were always respectful to him, saying please and thank you, sometimes shooting him a soft smile when you would catch each other in the same room. He always put you down so fast, sometimes just his facial expression when he would look at you was enough for you to go home crying.

"You can leave now, you did your job." He pulled you out of your thoughts.

His eyes still didn't reveal themselves to you, but you knew the stank eye he'd be giving you right now. The thought of it just made your stomach do turns, but the thing you were about to ask made it drop completely.

"That's the thing... you know it's getting late, by the time I get back on the main roads it'll be pitch black, and well I've been walking all..." You don't even know why you keep trying to explain anything to him at this point.

"Get to the point.." He said, annoyance dripping from his mouth. You sighed and rolled your eyes, standing up straight so you could at least look like you were not about to cry or throw a tantrum.

"I was wondering if I could stay here for the night... I'll be out of your hair by dawn tomorrow." You pleaded almost, which made you cringe a bit.

Daryl stayed silent for a minute, just poking at the fire softly as he rubbed the dog's head. Daryl almost gagged at the thought of you staying with him, even just for a night. It reminded him of when you guys were on the road together with everyone else, you always ended up sleeping next to him and he hated it. You would take up such a little room but Daryl felt like that was more than you needed, he would huff and puff. Not to mention how tight his pants would get when we saw you in only a tank top, how your breasts would push themselves together as you snored softly. How your pretty lips would part themselves, almost as if you were teasing him even in your sleep.

Daryl thought for a minute, he really didn't want you here. Your presence would just be so irritating to Daryl, he would know you were only 2 feet away from him at all times and that frustrated Daryl. You would be prancing around his safe space, breast sticking out, voice laced with sugar as you spoke, and presenting your ass to Daryl while you picked something up. The thought made Daryl go cold and he wanted to kick you out then and there. Call Daryl old-fashioned but he was against kicking out a young girl for safety just because of one's annoyance.

"Ya, you will be..." Daryl stated, standing up and making his way over to you, snatching the bag from your hand. "You can stay for the night... but you're gonna have to give me your weapons for the night and you owe me half of your food."

Fucking asshole... is all you could think of. You hated him, so fucking much it hurt. You have no idea what you had done to this man to make him hate you so much, it doesn't make sense to you but you needed some rest. You handed him your bag and watched him sit back down in the same spot, digging into the bag Carol had packed.

"Thank you, Daryl. I ap..." You decided at this moment to stop trying to speak.

"And no talking... I don't want to hear anything you gotta say, ya hear me?" He scolded, containing his digging into the bag.

"yes sir..." You bit back, trying your best not to start yelling at him about how childish he was being.

You brushed past Daryl to get some water from the river so you could get away from Daryl. Daryl's dick twitched at your use of "sir", he couldn't help the goosebumps that rose from his skin. He watched you walk your way down to the river, watching your tits bounce as you stormed off. He hated you with a burning passion but he couldn't deny that you had beautiful tits.

-

-

You couldn't sleep, you were so tired before you went to this shit show of a camp but now you couldn't sleep. You tossed and turned, the tent walls feeling like they were going to close on you. You could hear Daryl poking at the fire outside, trying to keep it burning as he kept an eye out. Daryl made you take the tent, he said he'd sleep outside with the dog, and that bothered you a bit.

Daryl was always so mean to you, literally telling you he wished you would fall off a cliff yet he gives you the tent? Maybe you were reading too deep into it, trying everything to believe your lie that he had an ounce of care for you in him. But that was odd behavior for someone like Daryl, especially towards you. That's why you think you can't sleep, not only did Daryl make you want to bawl your eyes out with how mean he was but also you were so confused about your own feelings.

You wanted to hate Daryl, you said you did but really you didn't. Every mean thing he said to you should've been enough for anyone to hate another person, but you simply couldn't. You wanted him to like you, you craved it. Every time you tried to be nice or help him with something, you felt like a teenage girl trying to get the attention of a boy. It was exhausting, but so frustrating. This behavior of his only created a fire in your belly, leaking out of your core.

The frustration of the day could only be dulled in one way, the warmth of your two fingers. It was a nightly ritual at this point, I mean at least Daryl's behavior is beneficial in one way right? But you couldn't do it in this tent that felt so suffocating, with Daryl's scent everywhere and his soft blanket against your bare thighs. No, you couldn't. It was gross, almost disgusting to do such a thing, especially for you.

You finally gave up on sleep, pulling your shorts back on and heading out of the tent. The wind hit you first, then the smoke of the fire, and then the eyes of Daryl. He looked already so annoyed, like just your presence was enough for him to be in a shitty mood. You smiled at him, pulling your jacket closer to your body as you sat down on the log in front of him.

"Couldn't sleep..." You whispered, sighing as you looked deep into other fires.

Daryl didn't make an expression towards that, only the same annoyed expression. Daryl couldn't help but watch your thighs out of the corner of his eye, watching them glow in the fire, making them look completely delicious. He tried to focus on keeping the fire alive but the hardening in his pants was almost impossible to ignore. He's never really had alone time with you, not one on one before, there was always another person so this was new to him. Honestly even more annoying like this because he could only imagine fucking you into the dirty ground, not able to escape these thoughts by annoying someone else.

"And why's that my problem?" He snapped back, his voice thick with tiredness and frustration.

You scoffed, looking at him with disbelief as your heart broke a little more. You were now at peak frustration and extremely exhausted, so you weren't going to just sit there and let it happen... not this time. You shook with anger, the wind doing nothing to cool you down. You just wanted to have a nice conversation with him, social interaction that you desperately needed from a day of being consumed by your own thoughts.

"You are such a dick you know that?" You spit out, your arms throwing themselves up as you let your anger out finally. "Jesus! I can't have one fucking conversation without you being such an asshole."

Daryl's blood goes cold, looking over at you as your eyes start tearing up due to your anger. He's never seen you so angry, he's never known that you cry when you get mad, he finds it... attractive. It makes his mind wander to what else makes you cry. Is there any emotion you feel too much? Do you cry? Or is this situation just that distressing to you? Daryl just stayed silent, finding it almost humorous how you actually cared what he thought and how worked up you were getting over it. You waited for a snarky reply or a cold comment about how annoying you were, but you were met with his cold blue eyes boring into your skin. That was it, that was enough to make you decide to pack up your stuff and get the hell out of there.

"Oh my fucking god... fuck you, Daryl, I mean seriously." You shot up from where you had been sitting and stood above him, the fire illuminating your furrowed brows and bloodshot eyes. "I mean are you fucking kidding me?!? why do you hate me? did I do something or are you just that fucking mean?"

Daryl stared up at you, watching you shiver as the wind hit your bare legs. Daryl asked himself that a lot too, why did he hate you? You really did do nothing to him, you were honestly extremely helpful and probably the kindest person he'd ever met. But that made him so upset. The innocence that radiated off of you, the pureness in your eyes, almost as if the world hadn't gotten to you yet. He found it unfair, how you were who you were in this world, it wasn't fair. The annoying sweetness that coated your voice was enough for him to go insane, he hated it.

That was only part of the hatred he felt for you, he wanted to completely defile you. He wanted to take that innocent little act of yours and fuck it out of you, he wanted to shut your silky soft voice up by fucking your voice box so hard it leave you speechless, wanted to crave scars into your skin as you begged him for more. He found these thoughts truly disgusting to even think, his own mind scolding him for letting the thoughts linger. He hated you for making him this crazy, making him so hard at night he couldn't be satisfied with his own hand he had to have you... so now he sat there looking up at you, watching as tears filled your eyes and your bare thighs were exposed.

Daryl grinned at your reaction, slowly standing up so he was towering over you. You looked scared, eyes filled with worry now as he made his way over to you. He was face to face with you now, you could feel his breath on his face and his eyes full of something... it wasn't anger, wasn't sadness, something in between yet not anywhere near.

"Ya' know, I do hate you Y/N" He says simply, making your bottom lip tremble as your tears finally escape your eyes. You knew it but it still hurt. "Ya' wanna know why or are you going to cry like the little bitch you are?"

His words took you back, this was a new all-time low for Daryl but for some reason, his words flew straight to your core and you had to press your legs together to ignore it. You stayed silent, not really knowing if you wanted to know or not but you had a feeling you had no choice. Daryl was going to tell you and all you could do was listen. You're breath hitched, wiping your tears with your sleeve as you watch him go to speak.

"I think yer stupid, and annoying, and a fucking worthless bitch who shouldn't have made it this far." His words shot bullet holes in your heart. "We shoulda left you where we found you. Ya bring no good into this group, you only hold us back."

You let out a sob, your heart quite literally being torn apart but you were still so needy all at once. You were used to mean, you were used to hurt but this felt nowhere close to what you've experienced before. You had gotten more frustrated simply because you still liked Daryl, you honestly would give anything for him to kiss you and it made your lips burn with need. It felt like your head was going to explode, being degraded and loving every second of it was something you never thought you would be thinking at this moment.

"Ya wanna know something else..." Daryl whispered, taking his hand and pushing your hair back out of your face as tears streamed down your face. He then lifted your chin to force you to look at him. "It's annoying how you act all innocent... prancing around in short shorts with your tits hanging out, acting like you aren't just trying to get fucked."

You look into his blue eyes, trembling as you feel his hand placed on your chin. You didn't realize how close you had gotten to him, how your body was almost pressed against his as he degraded you. You let a couple of soft whimpers out, feeling as Daryl wiped a tear away from your eye as he bites his lip.

"Ain't that right hm? All ya ever really wanted was to get fucked, just wanted to be used?" He spit out, you let out a soft moan as he continued to rest his hand on your chin, his heat filling your body. "want me to fuck ya?"

Your eyes widened, feeling like you were in a dream and you would wake up at any moment. You looked between his eyes and mouth as he spoke, his lips feeling like the only thing that could dull this heat inside of you. You nodded softly, biting your lip as you watched his mouth grow into a smirk. You expected him to place a soft kiss on your lips as he bent down to connect your lips, but you were met with a sharp pain in your left cheek. You gasped, not knowing what happened but then realized Daryl had smacked you. He didn't smack you too hard but it was enough to leave you in shock.

"wh..." You went to say but Daryl grabbed your throat roughly, it was a firm grip but not enough to hurt you.

"Use yer words... or are you too dumb for that?" He spits out, his words making your legs wobble slightly.

You felt lightheaded, you felt dizzy, you felt completely content in where you were right now. It was a crazy feeling, a feeling that was so intense it made you want to cry. You sniffled, clearing your throat so you could respond but the words were stuck in your throat. Daryl's eyes looked down on you with impatience, his teeth softly clenched as he waited for your words, the words he knew were hard for you to say.

"I...umm" You stuttered, lips quivering. "I want you.. to fuck me" You stated

Sex was new to you still, especially now since sex was the last thing on your mind half the time. This kind of sex, however, rough and mean sex was completely new to you. You weren't sure what to do or how to do it, do you mean back or do you just let it happen and enjoy the ride? You trusted Daryl though, no matter how mean he was to you, you still knew he wouldn't hurt you. Daryl smirked down at you, his rough hand still grasping onto your soft neck.

Daryl only knew hard sex, he'd never been in love or wanted to be in love so he was going to fuck you the only way he knew. He bent down to your lips, softly lingering above yours. You tried to reach up and touch his lips to yours but his hand on your neck kept you in place. Instead, he placed his lips on your nose, then your forehead then everywhere on your face but your lips. You were melting, just one kiss and you would be happy... you begged for just one kiss.

"How 'bout ya get in the tent hm?" He finally said after teasing you with his lips. "I'll be in, in a minute."

Daryl smirked down at you, letting go of your neck which was the only thing supporting your body right now. You looked surprised but also irritated as he teased you and not made you get into the tent. You huffed, rolling your eyes as you stomped into the tent. Daryl chuckled as you pouted, watching you stomp your feet to the tent. Daryl turned around and finished his fire poking, keeping it heated, making you wait.

You were pouting in the tent, arms crossed as you waited for him to come in. You couldn't sit still, you pressed your thighs together and tried to touch yourself through your jeans but nothing helped the ache. You were suddenly so hot, feeling like your skin was melting off in the small tent so you decided to take your shirt off and let the cool air consume it. You slowly started to tear each of your clothes off until you were only in your underwear and bra, you were about to take your bra off but Daryl had ripped through the tent and saw you. He was taken aback as he saw your bare body, not expecting it and it made him crazy.

You sat there like a deer in headlights as he stared down at you, hands suddenly laying at your thighs as you were just on your knees. Daryl's hand shook, wanting nothing more than to pounce on you already but he wanted to wait... he needed to wait. He got down on your level, the tent too small for him to stand in. He reached his hand out to your shoulder, placing his hand on it and slowly pulling down your bra strap. His touch made you shiver, goosebumps forming on your skin as he slowly undressed you or undressed what you had on still.

"You might be dumb..." He stated, bring his lips to your neck. "But you sure are fucking sexy..."

He then attacked your neck, giving you sloppy kisses on your skin as you softly moaned at his action. His other hand placed on your older shoulder and ripped your other bra strap down, attacking that side of your neck next. Your hands wandered his body, trying to pull him closer to you as you wanted him to touch you further. His soft lips sucked on your sensitive skin, making you squirm underneath his grasp.

"mm.. fuck.." You moaned out, causing Daryl to go crazy. He couldn't hold back himself anymore, he couldn't tease you or degrade you anymore. He needed you.

"Fuck it..." Daryl said, stopping his movements and lying down on his back.

You watched him wide as, watching as he pulled his pants down to his ankles and how his cock sprang out freely. Your mouth watered almost, wanting nothing more than to such him off and watch him unravel on your tongue. Daryl rubbed himself a bit, trying to have some friction while he waited for you. You forgot what you were doing at first, you're mind completely going blank as you watched him touch himself.

You were slightly worried, Daryl was big... a lot bigger than you thought he would be. You felt a bit nervous about how’d he fit, you were quite small, well at least a lot smaller than Daryl. Daryl continued rubbing himself up and down, watching you shiver at the thought of him being inside you. He could see how nervous you had gotten, how shy you had suddenly become as your thighs squeezed together.

"You okay?" He asked, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to his blue eyes. "We can stop, pretend this didn't happen." He reassures, placing a hand on your arm comfortably.

You gave him a small smile, moving your body on top of his. You replaced his hand with your own as you slowly jerked him off, watching his mouth part open in surprise as you did so. Your sudden confidence was a huge turn-on for Daryl, causing him to become unbelievably hard under your grasp. This is what Daryl wanted from you, he wanted you to stop acting innocent and take what you wanted. You were meek and shy, you simply doing this was so out of character.

"You want me to stop?" You ask, watching Daryl grow harder as you stroked his cock up and down.

Daryl shot you a soft smile, pulling you down to connect your lips to his. It was hard, rough, and filled with passion. The feeling of your hand on his cock, the taste of your lips, and the feeling of your weight on top of him. He needed you, needed to see you bouncing on top of him as he ripped you open. He wanted to see the pain and pleasure wash over you until you went as crazy as he is at this moment, he would give the world just to see it.

"Fuck no... god..." He moaned out, as your hand's pace picked up. "Ride my cock sweet girl... wanna see how dirty you can get." He teased me.

You giggled at his words, but they went all to your core at once. A wave of slick escaped your cunt, dripping over Daryl's thighs. You gave into his needs, but you did it ever so carefully. You moved your waist to hover over his throbbing cock, his tip ever so slightly rubbing between your slit. You teased him slightly, almost putting his tip inside you but slipping it out once again. You could tell he was growing frustrated, you can see him hold back his urge to push you down on his cock. You could get off on this, his head softly massaging your cunt and his thrust up when it had reached your clit. You continued this movement, teasing him softly but in reality, it felt too good for you.

"Gonna get yourself in trouble if you keep it up..." He moaned out, moving his hands to your hips. His hands helped you move your body back and forth, the head of his cock nuzzling between your slits.

"feels so good..." You whisper, biting your lip softly. "The least you can do for being an a..." You forgot who you were with, the person who never lets you finish your sentence.

You were cut off by Daryl taking your hips, pushing them down until his cock was damn near bottomed out inside you. You let out a gasp, hunching over so your nails were dug into his chest. It hurt, it felt like you were being ripped open... but it sent a strange pain throughout your body. Inside of rejecting his cock, your body welcomed it, almost as if it's what you needed this entire time. You shook slightly, the head of his cock already hitting your g spot as you stayed still. Your body was still getting used to it, but every bone of your body craved you to move your hips. Daryl chuckled softly as your eyes prickled with tears and your string of curses filled the tent.

"Told ya... dumb slut never listens" Daryl spit out, sitting up so your hands could balance on his shoulders.

He didn't give you time to say anything else, he took it upon himself to help you get used to him. He thrusted his hips up, creating more pain/pleasure that coursed through your body. It was a delicious stink, creating screams like moans that flowed off your tongue. His hips started off slow, obviously not that much of an asshole to completely overwhelm your senses. He placed one hand on our waist, going between hard thrusts and rolling his hips to try to ease the sting.

After a few thrusts though, you get used to his cock stuffing your cunt and you feel yourself getting eager. You start to move your hips a little with his, your hips going against his own hips because you were so cock hungry you couldn't help yourself. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving moon-shaped cuts along them. Your head threw itself back, letting Daryl fuck you harshly as you just enjoyed the ride. You would be surprised if your moans didn't attract walkers or raiders... they were almost screams at this point.

"Gonna fuck the dumb slut out of you... huh?" He started, moving his hand up to your hair and pulling it down to look at him. "Ain't that right... gonna fuck this pussy until that stupid little brain of yours start working.."

His hand in your hair forced you to look at him, his eyes blown out as he fucked your cunt so harshly, you couldn't help but drool. You shook slightly, something inside you snapped as you watched him huff and puff. Your hips suddenly had a mind of their own, they start rolling against his roughly, your eyes on his the entire time as you fuck yourself on his cock. You couldn't help it, your stomach burned and your cunt ached as you so badly wanted to get off. Your thrusts were rough, overpowering daryls at this point.

Daryl was taken back by this action, his hips starting to slow down as you created your own pace and your own way of fucking him. Daryl's hands rested on your hips though, helping you set a pace that felt good for the both of you but also let you take complete control. He never knew how pretty you could be, I mean of course he thought you were hot as fuck but he would never describe you as pretty... until now. The way you took him deep inside of you, the way your cunt clenched around him... maybe those were factors of why his view of you changed but maybe it went further than that.

Your thighs burned, your cunt ached, and your frustration grew. You so desperately wanted to get off, so your thrust was all over the place. You would start harder and deeper then your stamina would weaken, your thrusts turning slow and drawn out. It felt like it was happening on a loop, your frustration getting the best of you. Daryl's hands do a decent job setting your pace, but not enough to actually do anything. Daryl enjoyed this though, watching your frustration grow as you greedily tried to get off.

"Fuck... Daryl..." You groaned out, you couldn't even form words at this point. His cock hitting so deep inside you, it affects your speech. "please... I can't..."

Daryl grinned, hearing your pleas but basking in them. He brushed your hair from your face, loving the sight of your tears flowing down your face due to frustration and pleasure. He watched as you glistened in the moonlight, your skin beet red and your body soaked with sweat. Your hips slowed, still rocking back and forth but the pain in your hips felt unbearable now. You gave Daryl a pleading look, hoping he'd just be nice to you and give you what you wanted.

Daryl wasn't nice though, you knew this when you came into this. Daryl had disgusting things in mind for you, things that would leave you bruised and bloody. Daryl didn't know what nice was, especially when it came to fucking a "dumb slut". You fluttered your eyes at Daryl, your eyes telling him everything you wanted from him.

"What?" He asked, acting completely oblivious to what you wanted. "Can the dumb slut not get herself off? hmm..." He teased me.

You gulped down a comeback, afraid if you do he won't give you what you want. Daryl grinned, taking the hand in your hair and slowly moving it to your throat until it was wrapped around it. He gripped it hard, bringing your face down to meet him as he applied pressure to it.

"You are really that fucking stupid huh... Jesus christ." He spit out, watching you squirm above him, his cock still nestled deep inside you. "Fucking useless.."

You loved every second of his torment, of his degradation, of his anger. In one swift moment, Daryl threw you down onto the rough tent floor. You moaned softly, his cock being yanked out of your mouth and leaving you empty. Daryl wasn't done, he grabbed you roughly and set you on your hands and knees.

"I gotta do everything for you... too fucking stupid to do anything for yourself." He said, pushing your back down as he held your ass up. "Can't even ride a fucking cock right..."

Daryl rubbed your ass gently, watching you grip the blanket that was laid down for a makeshift bed. He dragged his fingers down your slit, feeling your throbbing cunt but dragging them back up to your ass. He could get off right now, cumming all over your back and drenching you with cum, seeing you like this just did that to him. He laid his hand flat down on your ass, putting it back high and then slamming it down on your bare ass.

You gasped, being shot forward as he spanked you. You weren't expecting it, the pain of the smack shooting through your veins and suddenly you wanted him to do it again. Never in your sexual life have you ever been spanked or slapped or degraded, it was something you could get used to. Daryl placed his hand on the red print on your ass, rubbing it softly as he watched your reaction to it. He knew it was foreign to you and he wanted to make sure you didn't have any objections to what he was doing. He leaned down slowly, kissing behind your ear and whispering into your ear.

"Are ya' still okay? We can stop now..." He wanted to hurt you but in the most pleasant and consensual way.

You took a minute to get a response, not because you had any second thoughts about what was happening. No, the silence was because you knew this would change you forever. This wouldn't just be a crush anymore, it would be more real. Even if Daryl just wanted a quick fuck, you would look at him differently whether you wanted to or not. If he did just want a quick fuck, you would feel as though you have been led on... because you did like him, and if that's all he wanted then it would break your heart. You look up at Daryl, watching as he gives you soft kisses on your back and neck. Fuck it...

"Again...." You whispered out, his eyes surprised you even said anything. He thought he was being too much, that he was going too far. He had no idea you were enjoying this as much as he did...

You felt too good right now for him to stop now, your stomach completely tensed up and your cunt fluttered around nothing. You needed him in the most disgusting way possible Daryl didn't see a single twinkle of doubt in your eyes, you knew what you wanted and you wanted him to give it to you. Daryl smiled at you, not a shit-eating grin or that stupid smirk... an actual smile.

Daryl raised the hand on your ass again, bringing it down roughly on your ass. You shot forward again, feeling your cunt tighten around nothing once more. Daryl waited once again for you to come back to him before he did it once more. The smacks got faster and harder, each one sending more amounts of pleasure through your body and bringing you closer to the edge. Your moans only fueled the fire in the diary, wanting nothing more than to completely destroy you.

After a couple more smacks, Daryl lined himself up behind you. This time he would be a bit nicer, slowly inching himself in and letting your tight cunt adjust to him. He watched your mouth open slightly, eyes squeezed shut, hands gripping onto anything they could find. Daryl rubbed your back with his free hand, slowly pushing himself into you until he was completely inside of you. Each inch you took made your eyes roll into your eyes and your toes curl.

Daryl started his thrusts slowly, watched you come undone on his cock already and he was just getting started. He watched as the coil in your stomach snapped and felt it when your walls fluttered around him, your liquid coating his cock. He fucked you through your first orgasm, picking up his pace when you couldn't feel your cunt flutter around his cock anymore. Daryl was Edgar to cum but also to make you cum over and over until you couldn't say anything else but his name.

"Fuck... such a tight fucking pussy..." He moaned out, grabbing your hips and shoving them down on his cock. "Could fuck this thing all day.... use you like my own fucktoy."

You could feel another wave of pleasure hit you, the coil in your stomach tightening once again. Daryl was rough with his thrust now, shoving himself into you before pulling all the way back and then slamming back in. It felt so good, making your entire body feel like it was on fire in the most pleasant way. Suddenly, not even 2 minutes after your first orgasm... You felt the coil snap once again, soaking Daryl's cock for a second time.

Daryl didn't slow down, just went harder as you screamed out as you came... hard. He gripped your hips roughly, leaving bruises on them most likely. You went completely limp, allowing him to use you exactly in the way he wanted to. You were exhausted, after two orgasms only minutes away from each other and working on your third one...You were completely worn out and wanting nothing more than another orgasm. Daryl watched you go limp, your ass having to be held up by him now.

"Come on baby...." He moaned, grabbing your arms and pulling you flush against him. "Gonna make me cum... gonna cum all over that fucking pretty ass of yours..."

His words only make your cunt tighten around his cock. You were standing on your knees in front of him, your knees digging into the tent floor as your head leaned back on his shoulder. You looked up at him with tired eyes, face bright red and your eyes leaking tears. You watched his face contort every time he thrusted, his lip being brought between his teeth and his eyes fluttering closed. He was beautiful, every muscle of his stomach placed on your back, his cock deep inside you, and his face looked to be sculpted by gods themselves.

Daryl's moans got louder, his cock twitched slightly and you could feel he was close just by the way he gripped onto your arms. You tried your best to fuck yourself back onto him as his thrusts became sloppy, wanting to fuck him through his own orgasm. Daryl was so close, his bruising grip on your arms as he pulled you closer and closer to him. You were right there next to him, your third orgasm already coursing through your stomach as you so desperately tried to help get you both off.

"daryl..." was the only thing you could get out, the other dirty words you had in mind getting lost in your throat as a particularly harsh thrust caused the coil in your stomach to burst open.

You shook violently as you came once again on his cock but you could only enjoy it for only seconds before Daryl let go of your arms, causing you to fall harshly onto the tent floor. You groaned, your orgasm still coursing through your body as you felt the ache of being dropped on the floor. You looked back to see why Daryl had done what he did, seeing that he was stroking his cock roughly. You watched as he came on your ass and back, his O face looking like something from your dreams.

You couldn't be mad now, not that you were able to see him in his high. When he finished covering you in his cum, he collapsed next to you. He breathed heavily as if he had just run a marathon and all you could do was watch him in awe. You would touch yourself to the thought of him, but nothing could've prepared you for how pretty he looked while doing it. He was on another planet at this moment, not even in this world as he recovered from his orgasm.

"fuck..." He said, his voice raspy and thick with exhaustion. "You're gonna be a problem..."

Daryl knew he shouldn't have done this, he should've just let you leave.... he should've just told you to leave in the first place. He knew once he had you vulnerable, ass up and ready for him to fuck you... he wouldn't be able to resist. He knew you'd become like a drug to him, he wanted to continue to hate you and live both of your lives separately, away from each other. There was just something about you, something about you that not only made his cock twitch but his heart. He always had a soft spot for you, he hated it.

You were still on your knees, back covered in his cum and the top half of you smushed against the ground. You just watched him come down from his high, not responding to him as he slowly came to his senses. Daryl looks back over at you, seeing you in a very uncomfortable position and sticky...

"Here..." He said, sitting up and finding a discarded rag that was always in his tent.

You slowly sat up on your knees, taking the rag he had handed to you. You smiled, nodding softly as to thank him simply because your voice box was damn near broken from screaming. You reached behind you, taking the rag and wiping him off of you. Daryl started getting some blankets together to make a bed for the both of you, hoping that wasn't crossing a line for you... as if he didn't just fuck the shit out of you. You struggled to get the entirety of your back, Daryl noticed this as he was setting down blankets.

Without saying a word, Daryl took the rag from you and gently wiped your back off. You hummed softly as he did so, the warmth of his hands making you feel giddy once again. You wanted to say something, anything just to get him talking again. His voice always makes you feel right at home, even if most of the time he was a dickhead to you.

"You know.." You said, voice coming out as a whisper. "I've never done something like this before..."

You looked back at him, his eyes focused on your back as he tried to make sure you were cleaned all the way off. Daryl knew, he knew you were the innocent type, that's why he was so intrigued with you. He smirked softly up at you, seeing how messy your hair was and how your tears were now stained on your face created a deep lust inside of him.

"I know..." He responded, going back to cleaning your back.

"You know?" You asked, knowing you looked innocent but how could he tell you haven't been railed like this before?

Daryl chuckled softly, throwing the rag somewhere in the room when he was done and then smacking your thigh softly to tell you to move yourself. You did what he wanted, sitting on your butt as you watched what he wanted you to do next. Daryl bit his lip, tossing you one of his shirts that was going to be big on you. You assumed he wanted it for you.

"You never do what you're told... Lay down." He started, watching you lay down like he told you to do. He smirked softly before continuing. "and you have only been with skinny 20-year-olds who probably went to some college for rich assholes.."

Daryl pulls his own clothes on before lying down next to you. He wrapped a blanket around the two of you, letting you lay on his chest as he did so. What Daryl was saying was very true, you had never been with a man his age or really any man that acted like him. You weren't the adventurous type, you were okay with vanilla sex and scheduled quickies. It was easy that way, easier to explain the age gap, and easier to digest the PDA. You didn't know if you could go back to that now, after 3 mind-blowing orgasms and the delicious size of Daryl... you could see yourself chasing this for the rest of your life.

"Maybe... I'd like to... uh..." You started, sighing softly. "I'd like to do this again though... I think I want to do it with you many times."

Your words felt jumbled, not making any sense. Daryl knew though, he knew what you were saying even if your words felt confusing. Daryl rubbed your arm softly with his thumb, thinking about what a life with you would be like. Waking up every day to a naked young woman in his bed, soft skin, and doe eyes for the rest of his existence with you... Even if he could only have you in the bedroom, he would move the sun and stars just for it. He nodded softly, looking back down at you as you lulled yourself to sleep on his chest.

"Yeah... think I'd like that too," he whispered. 

[starlazergazer]

Senators Shadow

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Summary: Anakin is your regular Jedi guard whenever your job in the senate brings you to Coruscant which wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t spend the entire time practically ignoring you making It clear he didn’t really want to be there. Until something changes on this trip and the two of you start to become close.

Warnings: Swearing, some jealous Anakin, scene where the readers being shot at from a crowd, that should be it

Word Count: 10K (may have gotten a bit carried away with this one but I hope its worth it!)

A/N: I’m a sucker for an enemies to lovers type thing plus a jealous Anakin moment so I wrote this to amuse myself (cause what’s the point of being a writer if you can’t write a fic for yourself once in a while?) Easily the longest one I’ve written so I hope you enjoy!!

You never really liked having to be on Coruscant. Things moved too fast here, you were always rushing from one meeting to another, prepping for speeches, consulting others, it often felt like you never got a chance to breathe only making you long for the minute you could leave and go back home.

And the longer you had to stare into Anakin’s eyes, the more you felt that longing grow.

“I appreciate the concern Jedi Skywalker” you addressed the man before you formally, interlacing your fingers and setting them on your desk, pushing forth an air of professionalism and authority “but I do not need a jedi guard for the time that I’m here”

A hint of a smirk graced his lips at your words, however, nothing more than its ghost ever appeared, a twitch in the corners of his lips. Often you wondered if you simply read too much into his expressions. “and I’m afraid your excellency that both the senate and the jedi council disagree”

There was no denying that Anakin was incredibly good looking, even if you tried to ignore that as much as possible, this simple fact was enough to have the people within the capital constantly whispering about him. Beyond this, however, he also had the reputation of being devilishly charming. You never got the chance to know that side of Anakin.

Sometimes you see glimpses of that version of him, you certainly did when you first met him as he introduced himself with a boyish grin and a look that had your cheeks stained scarlet, but since that first encounter it has been nothing but this stoic, aloof jedi that was now before you. And some stupid part of you wondered if it had been something you said that first night that pushed him away.

“Alright this is, however, my person we are talking about” you argued back, fighting down your own annoyance at his persistence “I get final say in what happens to it and that includes whether or not I have someone guarding it”

His answer was quick and to the point, as it always was “that is not how this works”

And oh how you loathed his complete lack of emotion, here you were out on a limb trying to reason with him, trying to compromise, trying to get something, anything out of him and still he responded as if you were little more than a talking brick wall.

“Then tell me Jedi Skywalker” You tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm yourself down, unable to keep the bite completely out of your words “how does this work?”

He leaned back in his chair causally, crossing his ankle over his knee, exuding confidence as he stated simply “either you let me act as your guard or you don’t make the speech next week”

You raised an eyebrow back at him, your voice dropping to a dangerous level “excuse me?”

“the jedi council has it on good authority there is going to be an attempt on your life so the senate is not going to let you on the floor unless they have reason to believe you aren’t going to die upon it” he explained indifferently, as if you were the one being ridiculous here.

“Wouldn’t resources be better spent actually looking for the person threatening my life then?” you pointed out with a sigh, posture slumping over slightly as you spoke, resigning yourself to the shadow being forced upon you for the next week.

“Oh we do have people on that” he assured you “just not me”

“No you’re on guard duty” you rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m on guard duty” he echoed back and you tried to ignore how hollow the words came from him, it would seem he was as happy about this assignment as you were.

And you wished you had a biting remark back for that, not fully ready admit just why his words bothered you so much, but you didn’t, instead you were left staring at Anakin in the chair before you, him doing the same as a brief silence fell over the two of you before a knock at the door broke it, one of your aide’s, head popping through the doorway.

“I have Jace here to see you senator”

You felt the smile grown naturally on your face at the news, unaware that your best friend and quite possibly the only person who could make this week better was even on Coruscant.

“Thank you please send him in” you nodded at her, eyes flicking back down to Anakin’s form, smile slowly dropping from your face as your gaze met his small glare “are we done here jedi?”

“It would appear so” he nodded stiffly, pushing himself up to a standing position, his mouth open, ready to say something when a new voice cut him off.

“Y/N Y/L/N it has been far too long”

A giggle escaped past your lips as Jace slipped into the room with wide arms, you not hesitating to meet him halfway across the room, more than happy to be caught up in his bone crushing hug as a greeting.

“Jace how could you not tell me you were going to be here” you chastised him with a small hit of his arm once he set you down, the grin never once leaving your face, you weren’t sure you could admit to even him how badly you needed someone on your side this week.

“Thought I’d surprise you” he shrugged with a wink and you were so excited to see him you almost missed the other voice as it spoke up from across the room.

“Senator”

Your head whipped around to meet Anakin’s gaze, a raised brow silently asking your question for you.

“I’ll be outside the room”

You didn’t have time to give any response before he was ducking out the door, finally leaving you and Jace alone.

“You have a babysitter” Jace mused with a smirk on his lips as he made his way to the bar cart in the corner, making the two of you a drink without being asked as you slumped down into one of the chairs before your desk.

“I have a babysitter” you groaned. The words, now that they were in the open, cementing themselves in reality “and it just had to be Anakin fucking Skywalker”

Jace snorted as he brought the drinks over, wordlessly handing you one as he sat in the chair next to you “of course it’s Anakin Skywalker, it’s always Anakin”

You furrowed your brow at him, taking a sip of your drink “it is not always Anakin, last time I had Master Obi-wan”

“Because Anakin was on a mission in Crait for nearly a month at that time” Jace pointed out with a smirk making you frown.

“I’m sorry you just know Anakin’s schedule at all times?”

“I knew about it last time because like I said you always get Anakin as security” he chuckled shaking his head at you as if it were obvious.

“I do not” you insisted still, mind racing as you thought back to the last time you had been assigned a jedi that wasn’t Anakin “Just last year I had Master Kuno”

“mmmm when you made that speech denouncing the banking clan” Jace hummed softly as he thought “I believe Anakin was on medical leave then”

You shook your head at your friend, sipping your drink “you do acknowledge that it’s weird that you know that right? It’s important to me that you know that”

Jace chuckled at that shaking his head softly at you “and it’s weird that you’ve never noticed that Anakin, if he is available, is always your guard”

“Alright so the jedi order decided to assign their young padawan to guard the young senator” you thought as you talked, more or less making up your own rationalizations on the spot “pair the two people who are up and coming in their respective careers”

Jace didn’t even bother to refute that, sending you no more than an unimpressed expression with a raised brow. You realized with a sigh you already knew exactly where he was going with this as he opened his mouth to speak.

“no” you held up your finger, interrupting him “don’t even try”

“Y/N it’s obvious” he sighed nearly making you choke on your drink.

“Obvious? Really Jace, obvious?” you nearly laughed “I can’t even get the guy to talk to me for longer than like two minutes”

Jace just shrugged at that, as if it made no difference “He’s a jedi, they’re weird maybe he’s nervous or something”

At that you did laugh, not liking how bitter it sounded out in the open “you’ve seen how he talks to every other woman in the capitol he’s definitely not nervous”

At that Jace froze, a single eyebrow raising as he nearly gaped at you “I haven’t, but I’m very interested to learn that you’ve noticed this”

You groaned inwardly, feeling your cheeks heat up on the spot “that is not the point I’m trying to make”

“It’s the point now” Jace cut you off with a wicked grin “Y/N Y/L/N is there something you want to get off your chest”

“I will have him come in here and throw you out” you threatened, unable to keep the small smile off your face as you did so.

“Hey if you wanted time alone with him all you had to do was say so” Jace held his hands up defensively, smirking down at you.

You nearly threw your drink at him.

-

You would think after all of these trips to Coruscant you would learn to pack properly. That, however, would make things just too easy.

You were prepared for meeting rooms, for the senate floor, for your bedroom. You had professional clothing, comfy clothing, pajamas, you were prepared for anything within the capital building that could take place.

What you were not prepared for was a walk to Dex’s diner.

You were supposed to meet a senator at the diner, the man absolutely insisting on dinner while you were meeting, and you could never really say no to eating at Dex’s.

But you could see Anakin’s look of confusion at your outfit choice as you immerged from your room, the man giving you a simple raised brow but still you refused to give into the embarrassment of admitting to your mistake.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” there was no malice in his question but still you felt your cheeks burning at its asking, looking back down over yourself, pretending to not notice that the clothing was much too light for the cold weather outside.

“Yeah why? Is there something wrong with it?”

“Uh no you look” and Anakin paused here, his eyes scanning your form briefly in a way that had you squirming slightly on the spot, his eyes finally making their way back up to your own, Anakin’s voice much softer than before “you look good Y/N”

And if you had thought you had blushed hard before.... Your gaze was quickly thrown to your shoes, a desperate attempt to hide the blush as you mumbled out a thanks before clearing your throat awkwardly, nodding slightly to the door, Anakin nodding back and stepping aside, letting you exit first.

Keeping your head held high you whisked past him, only regretting your situation as soon as the crisp air hit your mostly bare arms.

Warm clothing, how could you forget any and all forms of warm clothing.

You tried to hide your slight shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself to conserve body heat, rubbing a hand up and down your bicep.

“Where’s your coat?” the voice beside you startled you, all too used to walking in complete silence with Anakin, to nearly tuning the man out completely.

“I forgot to pack it” you shrugged, almost wishing you had something more to say, something to keep the conversation going.

Instead the familiar silence fell back over the two of you as you walked, your mind already starting to tune the jedi out once again when you felt something being draped over your shoulders.

In surprise you froze, Anakin following suit as he came to a stop in front of you, hands still on the ends of his robe that now hung around your shoulders, holding it carefully around you. Slipping your arms into the sleeves you held them up to your eyes taking a moment to admire the simple brown robe, how surprisingly soft it was, the way it smelled like Anakin.

“Am I even allowed to wear this?”

“It’s just a robe” Anakin shrugged, already trying to push past the gesture “besides breaking a rule like that is worth you not freezing”

“but it’s a special jedi robe” you protested “am I going to get special jedi powers now?”

And god help you you saw the corners of his mouth twitch up at that, a laugh that came out as more of a cough following shortly that had your heart skipping a beat in your chest “that’s not how that works. Now come on” he tried to usher you forward but you stopped him.

“Hold on what about you” you asked “aren’t you cold”

And you weren’t sure if Anakin noticed the small smile that grew on his lips, didn’t notice or didn’t care, either way you were glad to finally see it “no I’m okay, let’s just-“ and he paused out of nowhere, smile slowly dropping from his lips as he looked up into the sky.

Furrowing your brows you started to do the same, pausing only as Anakin started to approach you, hands coming just beside your ears as he reached behind you, your breath catching in your throat at his closeness. Slowly, grabbing the hood on the cloak he pulled it forward, shrouding your head in it just as you started to notice the fat water droplets that began to stain the ground beneath your feet.

“keep your hair dry” he all but whispered, taking just a second longer before retracting his hands and taking a step back, turning on his heel and ushering you forward with a nod in that direction “come on let’s hurry”

And then he took off as if nothing had happened, as if that wasn’t the most emotion you had gotten out of him since you had met, as if he hadn’t just spent the last several seconds standing closer to you than was strictly necessary, as if your heart wasn’t hammering in your chest so hard you could feel it.

-

Too much of your mental space the rest of the day was spent trying to come up with ways to get Anakin to interact with you again. Like an itch you couldn’t quite scratch you felt this desire to talk to him again, to see that hint of a smile grace his lips, to see that small twinkle in his eye as he huffed and shook his head in amusement down at you. Something, anything that could clue you into what was going on inside of that jedi brain of his.

Beyond proposing a trip to the library, however, you had nothing.

A small nod was all you got for your efforts before he fell into place behind you, always a few feet back, hands held behind his back, head held high, not a single word uttered in your direction, a true return to form even after what had occurred earlier.

And a part of you scolded yourself for thinking it would ever be different, that you had let Jace’s words weasel their way under your skin like that, that you ever thought you’d be anything other than a job to him.

So wordlessly you led on, entering the library with him in tow, doing as you always did and completely ignoring your shadow’s existence for the time being, trying to turn your mind to the task at hand.

But why had that never been as hard before as it was now?

Taking a brief trip around the shelves, Anakin in tow close behind, it was a bit before you could find the exact copy you needed, of course on the top shelf well outside of your reach.

You took a tentative look back at Anakin to see his eyes wondering aimlessly around the library not even paying attention. And for a brief moment you debated asking him for help, he’d given his cloak so freely the other day, had yet to even ask for it back, you’d taken to the habit of wearing it around your rooms when cold. It had been a crack in the walls he erected between the two of you so long ago.

But it was just that, a crack. You’ve spent years at this point with whatever small amount of time spent in Anakin’s company more or less ignoring him, used to his curt nods and short answers, it wasn’t quite so simple to get over that.

With a small sigh you walked over to a nearby table and grabbed a chair, pushing it back in front of the shelf, giving it a small test with your hands before stepping one foot up.

Anakin was by your side in an instant, hands out before him, coming up to grab you but remaining just a bit too far away “What are you doing?”

“I need a book on the top shelf” you shrugged, pushing your weight onto the foot on the seat of the chair, Anakin shifting closer as you did so.

“Alright then I’ll get it” he urged, “this thing spins would you just get down”

“I’m already up here I’ll get it” you brushed him off, one hand on the back of the chair to steady yourself as you brought your other foot up, trying to react quickly with every small movement in the base of the chair as it swiveled slightly.

“Senator-“ Anakin tried again, practically begging you to get down.

“I’m like two feet in the air I’ll be fine” your hand left the back of the chair and immediately the thing pivoted slightly beneath you, your legs reacting by crouching slightly so you could keep your balance.

“Y/N” and you felt him grab you by the forearm, a shock surging through your arm at his sudden touch, effectively freezing you in place, your eyes coming back to connect with his for the first time, noting the concern they carried. His other hand reached out, a book flying off the top shelf and coming right into his palm, Anakin not even breaking eye contact as he did it “Look I’ve got it would you please get down”

And for a second it was like you had forgotten how to breathe, you can’t even remember the last time he had looked into your eyes so intently let alone touch you, the simple act had left you absolutely breathless with gorgeous blue eyes bouncing back and forth between your own and for the first time you felt what it was like to truly be the sole object of Anakin’s attention. You could feel yourself practically shrink within it, your knees aching slightly though you were quick to blame that on your attempt to balance on the chair.

“Uh-yeah” you hadn’t realized how long you had remained still and silent beneath his gaze until you broke its spell, forcing your gaze from his down to your shoes, using his hand as an anchor as you carefully stepped down, not missing the sharp hiss of air that left Anakin the minute you had both feet on the ground.

“here” he sighed almost in relief, holding the book out to you, you carefully taking it from his hands as he moved quickly to push the chair back to the table you had stolen it from.

Looking down at the cover you couldn’t help but chuckle slightly, casting your eyes back up to Anakin only to see him already looking at you, a faint smile pulling up at his lips “what?”

“I actually need the one next to this one” you bit the inside of your cheek to contain your own smile as he sighed dramatically, looking back up at the self before easily picking the one you needed off of the top.

“Thank you” you traded books with him, just barely catching the slightly wider smile on his lips as he placed the first back on the shelf. And you decided that you liked that smile, liked being its cause.

Wordlessly he ushered you towards the exit with an extended arm, you nodding sheepishly at him before walking out the doors, Anakin’s footsteps as usual following close behind but this time, to your surprise, he sped up once you got to the hallway, falling into step beside you as opposed to behind.

“So what do you need the book for?” The question startled you, your head whipping around to him on instinct though you tried desperately to restrain your surprise, worried expressing too much of it would scare him off.

“Oh-he’s just one of my favorite writers” you tried to keep your tone as casual as possible, only making you worry it sounded forced, you didn’t like how easily you came to second guessing your every move in the jedi’s presence “I’m hoping I could use some of his style to influence my speech, make it sound a little better”

His brow furrowed at that, his gaze never leaving yours as he spoke “why? I like your style”

You nearly stopped walking, quick blinks coming as you tried to wrap your head around his words, the question slipping out of you before you could think better “you’ve seen me speak before?”

“When I’m free” he shrugged as if it were a given, as if there was nothing better for a jedi to do than listen to a junior senator give a speech.

And for the first time you started to wonder if Jace was right, if there was a reason Anakin always ended up as your guard, if there was more to this tough, distant demeanor than you had previously thought.

“Do you want a drink?” You regretted the offer as soon as it left your lips, easily catching the hesitation on Anakin’s face the minute you asked “I just mean I’m going to be up for a little longer and since you’re stuck keeping me company it’s the least I could do” and he seemed to relax slightly at that only making you tack on more “plus as a thank you for grabbing the book for me”

And there was that small smile again, his features lighting up ever so slightly as it graced his lips, your own mirroring it of their own volition.

“Yeah I’d like that”

-

“You did not!” You exclaimed with a loud laugh, hand coming out instinctively to slap his chest as he grinned back at you, smile hid behind his glass as he raised it up.

“I had no other choice” he defended weakly in a voice that told you he had many.

“That make for three ships you’ve crashed in this story alone” you shook your head with a chuckle “you know someone has to pay for those, namely the people of the republic”

“A small price to pay for peace” he shrugged with a lazy grin, taking a sip of his drink.

“Have you tried this thing, I think they call it landing?” You teased earning a chuckle from the jedi, the sound making your cheeks ache as you tried to contain your grin.

“I’m sorry senator how many ships have you ever flown and landed successfully?” he taunted with a raised brow.

And you could blame it on the alcohol, could blame it on the sleep deprivation, could blame it on the cozy atmosphere in the room. But really it was just Anakin that had you pulling out childhood stories, the way he put you at ease, the strange familiar air of a man who’s spent the last several years practically ignoring you. In all honesty this was the most you had ever gotten from the man in terms of real conversation and you weren’t ready to let that go just yet.

“My father actually taught me to fly as a kid” you offered with a soft smile, watching Anakin’s brows shoot up ever so slightly.

“Really?” he prompted simply, leaving the door open for you to continue if you so choose.

“Yeah” you chuckled softly, casting your eyes down to your drink “he loved the freedom it gave him, the idea that he could go anywhere he wanted at the drop of a hat, could live amongst the stars. I think he wanted to instill that same feeling in me”

“and did he?” he asked with a sentimental smile and briefly you felt like he wasn’t just looking at you but rather watching you as you told your story, something you took a strange comfort in.

“He did” you nodded “he died a few years ago and I associate flying with him so much I feel like I’m working to fall in love with it all over again, just this time alone”

And at your words you watched his smile slowly melt off his face, his eyes casting downward into his own drink, and you prepared yourself for the inevitable. The sympathy, the condolences, the pity, instead Anakin surprised you with a story of his own.

“As a kid I was a pod racer, thought I was significantly better than I actually was ya know” he chuckled softly, eyes glancing up at yours for a brief moment before casting back down “but I knew my mother never really approved, thought it was too dangerous, but she always was my biggest supporter despite everything. I had to leave her years ago for the order and sometimes I wonder if I’m reckless now in some ridiculous bid to be closer to her”

“that’s not ridiculous” you shook your head, Anakin’s eyes coming back up to meet yours “it was a comfort to have your mother care for you in that way, only makes sense that when you miss her you seek that sense of comfort all over again”

And he chuckled softly at that, smiling to himself “I suppose you’re right”

And this time you could definitely blame it on the alcohol, or maybe the slight pink hue you thought you could see in his cheeks, but suddenly you felt yourself forcing your next words to the surface, a desperate need taking over you to have them out in the open. “I know we never really do this but I really like talking to you Anakin”

And for some reason the name felt weird on your mouth this time, felt weird being addressed to him rather than said behind his back, yet still you rather liked it.

A small smile grew on his lips as he looked back at you, eyes bouncing back and forth between your own before he spoke “I like talking to you too Y/N”

And you certainly liked the way your name sounded when he said it like that to you, soft and sweet, less a call to attention and more an affirmation.

His eyes darted to the clock and he sighed softly, leaning forward to set his glass on the edge of your desk “Come on its way past your bedtime”

You chuckled softly at that, shaking your head even as you knew he was right “I’m a senator I don’t have a bedtime”

He laughed back at that, taking your glass from you and setting it onto your desk next to his “and senators need 8 hours of sleep just like the rest of us”

“You expect me to believe you get a full 8 hours of sleep a night” you asked with a raised brow, watching in amusement as he shook his head softly from above you.

“Alright like the rest of us except for jedi knights”

Despite that ridiculous answer you relented, hands coming to the armrests of your chair ready to push yourself up when a hand suddenly entered your field of vision, Anakin’s hand offered simply to you. With a slightly furrowed brow you looked up at him as you took it, standing up with his small aide, coming to a position that had the two of you standing nearly chest to chest and instinctively you felt a small panic rise.

Instead his other hand came to the small of your back as he ushered you forward softly, hand slipping easily from your own as you walked forward out of your office, focused entirely too much on the feeling of his touch as it slowly slipped from your back, on the way he fell into step behind you as usual though this time mere inches away instead of feet.

Too quickly you reached the door to your room, spinning around to face him “this is me” you regretted the statement as soon as it left your mouth, wincing slightly at the sound of your own words which just had him laughing softly.

“Need me to clear it?” he asked in a low tone, his voice barely above a whisper as he inched closer “see if there’s a monster hiding under your bed”

“I think I’ll be okay” you chuckled softly back, scolding yourself for the way your gaze slipped down to his lips, the way your fingers twitched, eager to reach out.

The moment of silence stretched and still you felt yourself drifting closer, felt the friendly atmosphere give way to one of thick tension as the two of you stared back at one another, daring the other to give in and make the first move.

Instead Anakin stepped back, the smile slowly slipping from his lips though never entirely leaving “goodnight Y/N”

And with a sigh you couldn’t entirely contain you nodded softly, leaning against your doorway as you watched him walk back down the hall to his own room, “goodnight Anakin”

-

You dragged yourself from sleep with shallow quick breaths, bolting upright in place, eyes desperately scanning the room for anything that looked familiar.

But of course this was Coruscant and nothing really was.

This wasn’t the first time your sleep has plagued by nightmares, nor the first time you’ve woken up unsure of where you were, of what was going on, of where the threat was coming from.

And logically you knew where you were, in your room, safe, with a jedi guard just next door. So you tried to force yourself to take deep breaths, a hand on your chest as if you could physically push the air into you. And for the most part you had succeeded, your breath slowly but surely returning to normal.

But it didn’t rid you of the initial panic, of the overwhelming sense of dread, of the crushing loneliness of going through this in a room that wasn’t your own.

And for the first time your mind jumped to Anakin, afterall he was just next door.

This past day had been the closest you had ever felt to the jedi, approaching something that resembled friendship as he made an effort for the first time to actually talk to you. And based on that you really didn’t think he would mind, even if it was just him sitting in silence next to you, it was nice just having something there.

But still waking him would be welcoming him to a part of you you weren’t sure you were ready to show him yet. It was a level of vulnerability you weren’t ready to show him yet. Not to mention the man was a jedi, faced death on a near daily basis, was always putting himself in dangers way, what right did you have to go to him with nightmares?

Making up your mind you slipped silently out of your room and made your way to the front door, heading as you usually did to Jace’s apartment.

-

You tried to slip out of the room quietly, more than enough experience at this under your belt to know that you could probably force your way through the front door with a sledge hammer and Jace wouldn’t wake up but still wanting to take precautions nonetheless.

Up on your toes you snuck through the door, pressing the button on the other side to close it, waiting till it fully shut to relax, spinning around to begin the trek back to your rooms, when movement out of the corner of your eye caught you off guard. With a small gasp you stepped back from the mysterious object, nearly stumbling over your own feet, when you realized you recognized the mystery man lurking outside of the door.

“Anakin” you breathed out in relief, hand instinctually coming to your chest in an attempt to slow your racing heart “you scared me”

At first he didn’t say anything, stayed leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, his posture telling you that he couldn’t have been more at ease, but his expression... His jaw was set, clenched hard enough you could see the muscle tensing even from your position, his gaze hard and unflinching as it bore down into you, Anakin was pissed.

“Imagine how I felt when I woke to find your room empty” His tone was cold and biting, as if he were spitting the words at you rather than conversing.

“Alright maybe I should’ve left a note” you conceded “but I figured I’d be back in an hour or two tops, and it’s Jace’s place you’ve met him”

“A note” he scoffed back at you, pushing himself off the wall to come close to you, forcing you to crane your neck in order to make eye contact, refusing to give in and take a step back “What part of this do you not get?”

“What part of what?” you demanded, crossing your own arms over your chest “you found me quite easily what is the harm?”

“What is the-“ he chuckled bitterly as he echoed you under his breath, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose before he burst “you suck out on me!”

“for like an hour” you protested, rising your voice to match his, not caring at this point who heard you

“That doesn’t matter” he paused briefly between each word, putting emphasis on each as he glared at you “I was tasked with guarding you that means I go where you go, everywhere you go, that means you don’t sneak out on me especially not to just spend the night with some guy” he gestured almost in disgust back at Jace’s door “this isn’t some joke Y/N”

“And I’m not treating it like one” you countered, clenching your jaw as you fought back the urge to push him back “you’ve come with me to everything for the entire time you’ve been my guard, I haven’t left your side, I’m playing by your rules”

“this” he gestured vaguely in your direction, a bitter laugh in the back of his throat “this is not playing by my rules, this is disobeying my orders, and a fucking note is not the correct fix to this situation”

“So I should’ve what? Asked you to escort me to Jace’s room at three in the morning?”

You watched him clench his jaw at that, a harsh glare sent back at you as he silently loomed over you, neither of you saying anything for a few seconds, before a deep breath escaped him, his chest deflating slightly as he grabbed your elbow, pulling you down the hallway “let’s just go back Y/N”

But you weren’t giving up on this so easily, weren’t letting him get away with chastising you in the middle of the hallway like you were a child. You ripped your elbow from his grasp, slowing your pace “I can walk myself”

“Really you sure you won’t get lost?” he condescended with a raised brow, crossing his arms in front of his chest “won’t accidentally end up in some other guys room for ‘just an hour’, I think senator Passel’s in this hall I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about him”

You reacted without thinking, your hand coming up and slapping him across the cheek before you could fully process your action, though even after you couldn’t find yourself to regret it. And you knew that on some level Anakin had to have let it happen, it was nearly impossible to catch the Jedi by surprise. But the wide eyes he gave back to you could have had you fooled. You watched as his own hand came up to his cheek, touching the skin lightly, him mouth dropping open ever so slightly, his anger completely dissipating on the spot.

Yours, however, had yet to do so “You’re mad I disobeyed your ‘orders’ fine I can take that, but you do not get to treat me like this and you do not get to throw that kind of insinuation at me” you seethed back at him, hands clenched by your side so hard you could feel your nails digging into the palms.

“Y/N” and you name came out of his mouth on an exhale, a hand coming up to your elbow with a touch much softer than before, a plea in his eyes as he said it.

But you weren’t sure you could take any more of being in Anakin’s presence tonight. As you took a step back his hand fell easily from your arm and you tried to ignore the tingle on your skin it left in its place, tried to ignore the lump you could feel growing at the base of your throat, tried to ignore his silent plea for you to come back.

“Goodnight Jedi Skywalker” and before you could crumble you turned and walked back towards your rooms, hearing Anakin’s reluctant footsteps fall into place a few feet behind you.

-

You felt strangely energized the next morning at breakfast, shoveling food into your mouth as you jotted down notes and took pleasure in the fact that Anakin had yet to wake. Perhaps Jedi did need a full 8 hours of sleep. Senators, it would turn out, can survive on a fraction of that in combination with pure spite.

Your eyes barely glanced up at the sound of approaching footsteps that halted a few feet in front of your desk, taking no more than a second to note Anakin’s form as he stood before you.

“Y/N” your name came out of his mouth almost hesitantly, still you refused to look up at him just yet, pretending most of your attention was still captured by the document before you.

“Jedi Skywalker”

You heard a small sigh escape him, a hollow chuckle filling the air “back to titles huh”

“what can I do for you jedi?” you asked, interlacing your fingers and setting them before you, pushing your posture straighter as you looked up at him in front of your desk, not letting a single emotion betray you with your expression.

Another sigh and he held up a piece of paper before you “we’ve received our first official death threat against you” and though you knew it had to be coming a part of you expected to be more shook by the news, expected to be more scared, all you felt at this point, however, was tired. Tired of being on Coruscant, tired of your job, tired of dealing with every consequence that came from these threats.

“Ok” You could see Anakin’s expression melt a little at your simple reply, could see the pity and guilt plain on his face, you wanted neither “anything else?”

Anakin nodded slowly, placing the piece of paper on your desk, taking care to step back from you after he had done so “because of it we’re more or less going into lockdown, the only people permitted access to this room are the one’s on this list provided by your security team”

You scoffed slightly as your eyes scanned the list, noticing immediately that one name was missing “Jace isn’t on here”

Anakin’s tone dropped slightly, his hand going into a fist at his side as he repeated “the only people permitted access to this room are the one’s on this list”

You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping as you threw the paper down onto your desk “you want me confined to my room fine, restrict who I have access to fine, one of those people will, however, be Jace, not only because he is my friend and I trust him but because he is instrumental to getting the work I need done”

And you could see him clench his jaw from across your desk, an angry hand running through his hair before he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes breaking from yours down to the paper before he sighed “fine”

And that put you off guard, if there was one thing you had learned about Anakin throughout your limited interaction it was that the man didn’t back down easily. Giving him a small nod you all but whispered a thank you, casting your eyes back down to your document, a silent dismissal.

The paper was wordlessly picked up from your desk before he started to leave, a new voice filling the silence left in his wake.

“Y/N I just heard-“ Jace’s voice was cut off suddenly, your eyes coming up from the document to see him in the doorway, held in place with a simple hand on his chest by Anakin, the jedi’s other hand resting on the hilt of his lightsaber as he glared down the man.

“he’s fine” you called out simply, eyes casting back down to the document without a second thought.

But you didn’t hear any change, Jace hadn’t started talking again, there had been no footsteps as he entered the room. Looking back up you saw the two men in the exact same position, glaring daggers into one another, each daring the other to make the first move.

“Jedi Skywalker he’s okay to come in” you instructed Anakin again, watching as the grip on his saber only tightened if anything.

“Anakin”

His gaze snapped to yours at the sound of his name, his expression softening ever so slightly as it did, his grip dropping from the saber.

“he’s okay”

And reluctantly he nodded, hand dropping from Jace’s chest as he righted himself, before his gaze snaped back to Jace, his next words coming out almost as a threat as he spoke them more to your friend than you “I’ll be just outside the door”

-

You’d be lying if you said you had forgotten about the other night, in fact you had done just about everything you could to do so, but despite your best efforts his insinuation still rang loudly in your head, his angry gaze as he spit the words at you still living in your minds eye, the fury that sparked in your chest then had yet to dwindle with time.

You tried to tell yourself that it didn’t really matter, so what if you were seeing Jace like that you were both single there would be no harm done. But another part of you hated the idea of Anakin thinking that, the same stupid, selfish, naive part of you that clung onto his every word and laugh that night.

But you had a job to do, a job that had pulled you halfway across a galaxy away from home to try and convince a small group of relevant senators that your position was correct and morally righteous which would be no small feat. That was exactly why you couldn’t have your attention pulled away from the matter at hand by some guy, least of all some guy as emotionally stunted as Anakin Skywalker.

“Y/N” you ignored the small plea from that very man, pointedly keeping your gaze on your notes as you paced back and forth from behind the stage.

Anakin sighed softly, an anxious hand running through his hair before he tried again “Y/N please I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“No” you cut him off simply, refusing to give him your attention, your anger, your anything. You had a job to do and he was being an active hinderance to that and you were not going to treat him as anything but that “I don’t want to hear it right now”

He nodded softly at that, gaze casting down to his shoes “yeah we can talk after your speech”

You scoffed at that, shaking your head before countering under your breath “or you can go back to ignoring me, I much preferred that”

Anakin furrowed his brow at that, taking a step closer to you “what do you-“

“Senator” one of your aides interrupted you with a smile, nodding her head towards the shut curtain before you “they’re ready for you”

“Thank you” you smiled back at her, squaring your shoulders and facing the curtain separating you from the stage, pointedly ignoring Anakin’s intense stare down at you.

Another soft sigh before he whispered “I’ll be off to the right side in case anything happens” and he was reaching for the curtain before you could respond, most likely knowing that you wouldn’t, holding it open for you to duck under slightly and be met by the bright lights and polite applause you were used to.

You smiled widely at the crowd as you walked up to the podium, setting your stack of notes on top of it and waving, giving them a practiced small nod and a polite “thank you senators”

Slowly the applause dwindled and you were faced with a silent room, milking the sound for just a moment before beginning “I want to thank you all for making time in your busy schedules-“ and you launched into the usual political fluff that began most speeches, stroking the senators egos before you got into the real meat of the issue.

You didn’t make it far, however, before you felt a sudden tug at your elbow, the force strong enough that you were pulled back from the microphone a few steps, a confused murmur making its way through the crowd before you.

Spinning around you followed the hand upon your elbow up to the jedi who owned it, only to see that he wasn’t staring down at you but rather up at the point where the walls met the ceiling, his eyes searching for something that was surely drowned out by the stage lights.

“What’s going on?” you asked him pulling your arm back into you, Anakin’s fingers not putting up a fight against it as he kept his gaze up, searching.

“we need to go” the words were spoken softly and with little weight only confusing you further.

“Anakin what-“ he cut you off before you could even get the question out, crashing his body into yours as he tackled you to the floor, arms wrapping around you to break your fall as he ducked the two of behind your podium. And you were ready to ask him again what was happening when you noticed it, a new burn mark on the wall just behind where your head had been moments ago.

It was only then that you realized the world had fallen silent on your ears, your mind tuning out the panicked yells and scraping of chairs as the people you had just been addressing scrambled for the exit.

Then there was a blaster sound.

The podium before you shook as it took the brunt of the shot, the furniture groaning telling you it wasn’t going to be able to take much more.

With wide eyes your gaze finally connected with Anakin’s to find his already on you, your name on his lips though you don’t remember hearing it.

“What?” You asked much too softly for the sound level in the room, a small look of relief still edging into Anakin’s eyes as he looked at you.

“There’s a door behind you to your left, I’ll cover you you make a break for it on the count of three” he instructed loudly but still calmly, the small panic in his eyes doing a fantastic job of never making its way to his voice. You nodded quickly at him, eyes darting over your shoulder to take a quick look at the door. His hand came up and squeezed your shoulder softly, pulling your gaze back to his “stay low okay. 1..2..3 go”

There wasn’t a moments hesitation before you broke for the door, no drop of doubt in Anakin’s promise to cover you before you left the safe haven of the podium, throwing yourself at the door to force it open and pushing it back closed behind Anakin the second he was through.

He never let up, however, not wasting any time before he grabbed you by the hand and pulled you off the door and down the hallway, you never fully being able to escape the panicked screams from that room.

“The others in there” you protested weakly, letting Anakin pull you further and further away from the room.

“Not important right now” he answered harshly, taking seemingly random turns down a labyrinth of hallways.

And your mind was spinning too much to protest any further, still struggling to bridge the gaps of the last few minutes and comprehend what had happened “did you see them?”

“No” Anakin grumbled “but I think the shot came from the vent system”

“So they could be anywhere by now”

Anakin didn’t respond to that, dragging you a few more feet forward before coming to an abrupt halt before a door you didn’t recognize, eyes checking both ways down the hall before throwing it open and ushering you inside, shutting the door behind the two of you.

It was jarring how silent it was within the room, the way the entire world seemed to suddenly stop spinning, finally giving you the chance to catch your breath, your mind reeling in such a way that made you wonder if you even really wanted the silence.

“Okay” Anakin spoke up, hand coming back to your shoulder, thumb hooked softly under your chin to physically pull your gaze to his as he hunched over slightly “you stay in here I’ll go-“

“What-“ the question came out before he could even finish his statement, your head shaking rapidly as you took a step back from him “you’re leaving me in here?”

“Just for a bit I need to track down-“

“No I can’t-” you interrupted him again, the same panic as before surging within you as you shook your head again, an anxious hand bunching up in your hair as you started to shift your weight from foot to foot “you can’t just- you can’t leave me here alone”

“Hey hey” and you could see his attempt to calm you down as he reached out, could see the fight behind his eyes between staying with you and finding the guy who shot at you, his hands resting on both of your shoulders halting your nervous movement “you’ll be safe in here but I need to track down-“

“Please” you interrupted him again, your single world making his argument die on his lips, his expression freezing slightly at the sound of it “Please Ani don’t leave me”

And you watched his chest deflate, a small nod before he answered “okay”

Before you could think better of it you surged forward, wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your face into his chest. Again there was a moment of hesitation, a brief hiccup before his arms wrapped around you in response, and you heard him mumble against your hair “I’ve got you, it’s going to be okay”

And at that words you let a shaky breath out, feeling the weight on your chest decrease slightly at the promise, nodding softly against him before slowly letting go, untangling your arms from him “Thank you”

His eyes bounced back and forth between your own for a second before he nodded softly, taring his gaze from you as he stood up straighter, taking a good look around the room “We’ll just wait here for a bit, the rest of the order is going to be working on tracking the shooter down”

You nodded back at him again, taking a few steps aside to rest against the wall, finally fully feeling yourself relax as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you.

“I really am sorry for what I said the other night” the sudden voice breaking the silence caught you by surprise, your brows furrowing as you looked up at him “I was angry and I took it out unfairly on you and for that I’m sorry”

“Is now really the time to be doing this?” you asked with an edge of frustration to your voice, trying to hide it behind a soft laugh.

“You’ve been refusing to talk to me, now’s the first time I’ve really had your attention” he shrugged as if it were the obvious conclusion.

“yeah well try dealing with that for about three years then you’re allowed to complain about feeling ignored to me” you grumbled crossing your arms over your chest, unsure if you had really wanted him to hear those words or not.

His brows furrowed as he looked down at you, genuine curiosity on his voice as he asked “what does that mean?”

And a part of you wanted to scoff, as if he hadn’t noticed how he’d treated you for the entirety of knowing him “This trip is the most I’ve ever talked to you” you huffed, pointedly avoiding eye contact with him “When I first met you you were nice and talkative and normal, and all of a sudden the next time I’m around you’re nothing but cold and distant, could get barely more than two words out of you at a time. Made me wonder what I had done wrong”

You heard his deep sigh at your words, eyes glancing up at his form to see his gaze planted on his shoes, a soft reply coming in a voice you almost couldn’t hear “you didn’t do anything wrong”

Another silence passed between the two of you before you broke it, unsure exactly why you felt the need to justify yourself to him “I get nightmares sometimes, nothing too bad but sometimes it’s like I forget where I am and I can’t breathe and I just need someone there to anchor me, to remind me that I’m okay. Jace has been that person for me a lot so when I woke up I sought him out, I really didn’t think about how I was sneaking out behind your back”

Another sigh came from across the room before you heard a back sliding against the wall, eyes casting up to see Anakin had moved to sitting on the ground, back resting against the wall, eyes planted somewhere across the room before he laughed almost hollowly “I’m an idiot aren’t I”

And you couldn’t help but chuckle at that, moving to sit down next to him, careful to keep a good amount of distance between the two of you as you did so “I mean I certainly won’t argue with you on that point”

And this time his chuckle was realer, a warm sound you felt yourself despite everything drawn into “you know you could’ve come to me”

“If the roles were reversed” you asked him with a soft, sad smile “would you have come to me?”

And he sighed at that, gaze breaking to study your face for a moment, before he shook his head “no I suppose I wouldn’t have”

Another silence fell between the two of you, this one considerably less uncomfortable than the ones before, and for a brief moment you wondered where exactly this left you and Anakin, certainly closer than before but friends? Is that what you wanted? Is just that what you could be okay with?

“The jedi have a code” Anakin’s voice pulled your attention smoothly back to him, finding him a few inches closer than before, you weren’t sure who it was that had shifted “we can’t form attachments”

And you found yourself focusing on how hard the words seemed to be for him to say, how he was practically pulling them out of himself, you eagerly latching onto each one, nodding softly.

“So when I met you and you were incredibly nice and funny and easy to talk to…” he let the end of his sentence hang in the air, let the implication remain unsaid “Obi-wan noticed it before I did, was over my shoulder reminding me of the code right away and I figured if I remained distant then I wouldn’t be tempted to break it”

You felt the air leave your chest realizing that hearing it form Jace was one thing but from Anakin himself was completely different, the last few years spent around him clicking into place in your mind and you felt the need to reach out to him, if not to just hold his hand in yours. “Then why are you my guard every time I need one on Coruscant” you asked instead, forcing the distance back, giving Anakin what he wanted, what he said he wanted “Wouldn’t it have been better to avoid me entirely?”

A bitter laugh came forth at that, Anakin throwing his head back against the wall as he stared up at the ceiling “yeah, yeah it would have.” He paused briefly, a small smile pulling up at the edges of his lips “do you know how excited I get every time I hear you’re going to be on Coruscant? I tell myself every time that I just want to make sure you’re safe, that I want to be able to see for myself that no harm comes to you, but I know they’re all just excuses. Because even if it’s in complete silence I relish every moment spent in your presence”

And a huge part of you felt relief at his words. Relief that your feelings were reciprocated, relief that he didn’t actually hate you as you suspected, relief that it was all finally out in the open. But still there was a new weight on your chest, the burden of the jedi code no longer resting on Anakin’s shoulder’s alone, a burden that as not a jedi it felt unfair for you to carry.

“Where does that leave us now?” you asked quietly, eyes bouncing back and forth between his hopefully.

“The jedi order have their faults” he started after a bit, gaze skipping around the room, everywhere but meeting yours “there’s a few things I just don’t agree with them on and one of them is that having attachments makes me a worse jedi, I’m starting to wonder if remaining at a distance from you is really worth it, after this past week I’m not sure I can do it anymore”

“what if I don’t want you to remain at a distance?” you asked softly, watching almost with amusement as Anakin’s gaze rushed to meet your own, his eyes searching yours with hope for sincerity.

Finally his lips turned up at your words, he gaze flicking down to your lips for a moment, inching himself closer still till your shoulder grazed his “Darling if that’s the case then I shall live to make you regret asking me to stay close”

[thrawns-babygirl]

Making Eyes (Tech x F!Reader)

Hello Tech Girlies (GN)

So! A lot of emotions are running high after yesterday huh? I totally understand TBH, while I am a Crosshair Girlie at heart, I do also adore Tech and I can empathize with some of the emotions yall are going through.

This was so much fun to write and it turned into the longest thing I have ever written so I hope you all enjoy. Feedback is greatly appreciated.

And yes, Phee is in this story but she is like, the ultimate wing woman dw, fully platonic.

Rating: E (18+) Summary: Tech has been giving you eyes forever now, and Phee takes it upon herself to help him talk to you Warnings: Oral (M!Receiving), grinding, unprotected PiV, Creampies Word Count: 4300+

Masterlist

Tech was staring at you. Again.

I was a daily occurrence at this point, whenever you would visit Cid’s Parlour you would hang out with Omega, bring Wrecker some food, play a couple games of Dejarik or Sabacc with Echo or simply have a few drinks with the boys. It was a nice piece of normalcy for the squad of rogue clones. It was nice having a friend.

“You know, starin’ at her isn’t gonna get her to talk to you” Phee sat down on the stool next to tech, placing a hand on his shoulder as she took a sip of her drink. Tech sighed, lips tightening to a thin line as he took one last look at you before turning to the pirate. Sorry, liberator of ancient artifacts.

“I do not understand your obsession with getting her and I to talk” Tech replied taking a sip of his drink, eyeing you over the rim of the glass. Phee just chuckled “because you got it bad Brown Eyes” polishing off her drink and motioning the bar tender to bring her another she stared him down. It was so painfully obvious to everyone that Tech did indeed ‘have it bad’ for you but he just… had no idea what to do, and Tech never had no idea what to do. He was the one with the plans, back up plans and back up plans for those back up plans, but when it came to you his mind simply… stopped working.

“Look, its painful watching you make eyes at her across the bar every time she comes in, you should just go up and talk to her. Talking is your specialty, there’s gotta be somethin’ that brain of yours can come up with to woo her” Tech frowned. It’s not like he hadn’t tried coming up with something to say to you it was just… he was never properly socialised to interact with women, so far Cid and Phee were the only adult women he had interacted with for an extended period of time outside of the likes of Nala Se and the Kaminoans. He knew, in theory, what he could say to you, but he had no practical data to go off of. He had been involved in maybe two or three one night stands before the fall of the Republic, and they were almost always rushed, semi pleasurable ways to blow off steam. He's never been worried about rejection before. And the thought of you rejecting him sent cold shocks of fear rushing down his spine.

Phee sighed… this was gonna take more work than she thought. “I simply… Do not know what to do” he mumbled, it was always hard for Tech to admit when he didn’t know something, it was his sole purpose in life to know things, to always have answers and solutions. The tightness in his chest and the weight in his stomach was something he was very much not used to, even while on a battlefield knee deep in mud with driods closing in on all sides he had never felt this amount of uncertainty.

“You just gotta work the charm, tell her she looks pretty, ask about her day… that kinda thing. Ask her to play a game of dejarik and strike up a conversation that way… and don’t look now but she’s coming over this way” Tech choked on his drink, coughing spilling some of the contents on his pants. Great now he looks like a fool.

When he turned around, he saw you stifling a giggle as you slid onto the stool on the other side of Phee, asking the bartender for a drink. “Hey sugar, what are you up to this time of night” Phee makes such easy conversation with you, it makes him jealous. Why couldn’t he just find the words, why couldn’t he swallow his fear and just talk to you. He can talk for hours about anything. If only you would ask him about the components of a hyperdrive or about the capacitors or about-

“Wow is that true Tech?” Tech is ripped from his thoughts as he looks over at you, you’re smiling at him with wide, beautiful, eyes. “Pardon?” he asks lamely, inwardly kicking himself for not paying attention. “I was just telling her about the races on Safa Toma” Phee smirks over at him, bringing her drink up to her lips before inclining her head as if to say ‘go on’.

“Yes I did partake in the Riot Races on Safa Toma multiple rotations ago. It was on a whim in order to help Cid settle some debts” your eyes widen slightly. Okay maybe he could do this. He inwardly thanks Phee before launching into the specifics of why he was racing, what happened with Tey-0, the modifications on his racer he had to do prior to the race, his strategies and to his surprise you were listening with bated breath, hanging on every word he was saying. Your elbows resting on the bar, drink long forgotten as the hours dragged on. From there the conversation flowed naturally, reminding himself of what Phee had said he asks you about your day, about what you were doing at work, your last few games of dijarek against Echo. He listens as you lament about not being able to beat his brother “perhaps I could show you some strategies. I have played multiple games against Echo and could show you not only specific manoeuvres that would work against him specifically, but also the game as a whole” your smile makes his insides melt.

“Well, I’m gonna turn in for the night, I’ll see you two around” Phee places a hand on both of Tech’s and your shoulders before standing up and walking towards the door, giving a polite wave to the other batchers as she exits. Leaving Tech alone with you. His thoughts catch up with him again without having Phee as a buffer, would you still be interested in talking to him? Just him? Would he even know what to say?

“So, what else do you do for fun? I only ever see you all hanging around here” your smile is so genuine. He would have to thank Phee later for laying the groundwork for him as conversation continues to flow smoothly, effortlessly almost. Much to his surprise you actually do ask him about hyperdrives and how they operate, telling him about how you always wanted to be a mechanic, but the universe had other plans for you. He’s never been more enraptured with anyone than he is with you right now. You listen to his every word, asking questions, enjoying his answers, giggling at his dry wit.

It's only when he notices that there is no one else in the parlour anymore that he checks his chrono and balks at the time. You sigh “Maybe I should get going, I know that Cid doesn’t like just anyone staying after she closes” you stretch your arms above your head as you stand up and Tech can’t help the way his eyes run down your body as you move. Tech is not a spiritual man, he is a man of science, but he believes that you are the closest thing to a goddess that he will ever encounter.

“It is very late, perhaps I should accompany you back to your domicile” he gets off his stool, motioning towards the door. You hesitate slightly before nodding, a slight dusting of colour on your cheeks. “I would very much like that, Tech” you smile at him again. And by the stars he swears it is a sight he would never tire of.

The walk back to your apartment is mostly spent in companionable silence, sometimes one of you would make an observation to the other, but otherwise it is nice. Comfortable even. You, however are entirely oblivious to Tech’s internal struggle. He wants nothing more than to tell you everything he’s feeling, divulge his every emotion to you as you walk next to one another down the quiet streets of Ord Mantell. He just wishes he could find the words, tell you enough without telling you too much, without frightening you off with the sheer depth of what he feels for you. Every now and then your hands brush, fingers grazing slightly as you continue walking. He expects you to pull away, he expects you to recoil but you don’t. So, like the inquisitive man he is, he continues brushing his hand against yours, periodically at first before making the action seem more intentional, watching you out of the corner of his eye to gauge your reaction to the contact.

After the third or fourth obviously intentional graze of his hand against yours you surprise him by intwining your fingers with his, silently, your eyes never once leaving the path ahead of you. Tech’s brain completely fries. He has no idea where to go from here, maker he never thought he would even get this far with you and now he is in uncharted territory. Once again at a complete loss for words, it takes a moment for him to realise that you have come to a stop in front of an apartment building. Your hand leaves his and while it’s not a cold night he misses your warmth already. He wishes he could simply hold your hand forever and never let you go. He has never really been a fan of other people touching him, he has been actually quite touch averse his whole life, but something about the softness of your skin and the meaning of the contact has him longing for more.

“This is me” you say with a small smile, you look almost embarrassed, and it takes Tech a moment to figure out why “We… we passed this location approximately 20 standard minutes prior” he says with a raised eyebrow. You shuffle from one foot to the other, avoiding eye contact as you blush all the way from your neck to the tips of your ears. “I uh… I wanted to keep spending time with you” you let out a small laugh, still looking anywhere but him as you approach you door. “Would you… would you like to come in?” your hopeful smile is breathtaking, if only you knew how unnecessary all of your nerves were, if only you knew how much he too wanted to continue spending tonight with you, as well as every night beyond this one.

Kriff… the realisation hits him like a speeder. You may actually… return his feelings. You could potentially be interested in pursuing him… romantically. His thoughts grind to a halt as he realises he still has not responded to you, your face becoming slightly crestfallen as you presume his lack of answer is a refusal. “Yes! Yes of course… I would uh love to” inwardly cringing at the volume and excitement present in his voice Tech clears his throat as you lead him inside your home. If he is honest with himself he is very curious to look around your home, to learn a little bit more information about you without seeming too eager, eyes darting around to take in as many details as he can.

Your living space is tidy and modest, a well-worn couch, a small kitchen area, a door leading off to what he assumes to be a bedroom as well as a holo projector on the wall facing the couch. Shelves hold up various holos of what looks to be you and your family and friends. It brings a smile to his face as he looks around getting this insight into the way you live, the life you lead, you as a person.

“Caf? I know it’s late but you seem like the kinda guy who lives off the stuff” you ask, he chuckles and nods “sorry its only the crappy instant stuff, work has been kinda slow recently” you begin pouring the powdered caf into two mugs before boiling some water. “No apologies necessary, I have lived off military rations and bad caf my whole life, I am very used to it by now” the smile on his face grows as he watches you work, observing your small idiosyncrasies as you go, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you pour the water, focusing on not burning yourself, fanning the steaming cups with your hands before adding a small amount of sweetener to both cups and bringing them over towards Tech who is still standing in the middle of your living space.

“Feel free to take a seat, I know it’s not much but it’s home” you smile and Tech has the overwhelming urge to take your face in his hands and connect his lips with yours. Would you allow that? Would you want that from him? You seem to be showing interest but he has no way of knowing how far you are willing to go, did you want him romantically or were you just being friendly and hospitable?

The two of you make easy conversation, sipping on your caf and enjoying each other’s company as the projector plays a muted holo in front of you. You slowly edging closer to him on the couch until your sides are pressed against each other. Tech finished his caf a long time ago, but is hesitant to place his mug down on the table in front of him, if he does he has no reason to stay here, he has no reason not to go back towards the parlour and his brothers and leave you for the night. Your eyes scan over the aurebesh subtitles of the holo in front of you. “I’ve seen this holovid at least a dozen times. It’s about a group of smugglers trying to make a better life for themselves. Makes me think of you and your brothers a little bit” you lean your head on his shoulder, the contact making Tech’s hear beat faster, his hands becoming clammy as he takes a leap of faith and moves his hand over your shoulder, letting you move closer into his side.

You press your body as close to him as you can, and Tech decides then and there that should he die tonight, he will die the happiest man in the galaxy. He slowly begins soothing circles over your shoulder as the two of you continue watching the vid in front of you, now with the sound turned up slightly. The scene where one of the smugglers kisses the woman he is in love with flashes in front of him and he is once again flooded with the indescribable urge to press his lips against yours. You fail to stifle a yawn as you rest against him and Tech looks down at you, eyes half lidded, totally content.

“I think perhaps it is time that I made my departure. You appear to be quite fatigued and I am sure my brothers are wondering as to my whereabouts” the moment the words leave his mouth he regrets it, watching as your content demeanour is tinged with a hint of sadness. He simply did not wish to overstay his welcome. He opens his mouth to perhaps ask you to dinner tomorrow night when his com chimes. Cursing under his breath he answers.

“Tech? Where are you? Do you know what time it is?” Hunter seems slightly panicked and Tech feels a twinge of guilt about not telling his brothers where he was going, he was simply so caught up in spending time with you that it slipped his mind to let his brothers know that he was leaving with you to walk you home.

“Yes, my apologies Hunter I was just out having a walk and simply lost track of the time, I shall be back within the next hour” Tech felt your move out from under his arm and longed for your contact again.

“Just having a walk huh… sure, well I’m sure you can tell me all about your walk when you get back. No need to hurry just comm if you’re going to be later than an hour” Tech replies in the affirmative before shutting off his com. Hunter knows something, perhaps he saw you two leaving together from the parlour? Maybe he heard the soft sound of the Holoprojector in the background, either way he was in for some brotherly banter when he got back.

He turns to you, not realising how close together you were. His eyes dart down to your lips and he watches as yours do the same. His mind fries again, does he make a move? Do you want that? Everything so far tonight has been highly indicative that you are interested in him romantically but what if-

His thoughts are cut off as you place your lips softly on his before pulling back and looking into his eyes with a soft smile. His face is flushed, his lips are slightly parted as he breathes heavily. He is almost certain that you can hear his heart thudding against his rib cage due to how fast it’s beating and before he can give himself a chance to second guess his decision, he moves his hands up to your face and presses his lips against yours with all the passion that he can muster. He’s not an overly experienced kisser but he is a very quick learner, he lets you take the lead before he gets more comfortable, lips moving against yours in a passionate dance as you tangle your hands into his hair before reluctantly pulling back for air.

Your kiss swollen lips spread into a smile as half lidded eyes stare up at him “I hope that was alright” you say as if that wasn’t something Tech has wanted to do since he met you all those rotations ago. “That was more than alright… that was perfect, you are perfect” You move in to kiss him again, and again and again as you slowly move on top of him so that you are straddling him on the couch, parting briefly to catch your breath before continuing your heated session. Tech has been hard since you first placed your lips on his but the pressure of you sitting atop him has him acutely aware of his predicament. You grind your hips down against the hardness straining against his pants and Tech breaks the kiss to let out a sinful moan of your name, bucking his hips against yours, greedy for the feeling of you. You look up at him with lust blown eyes, panting slightly as you move your hips against his clothed erection. “Let me know if we’re moving too fast…” you mumble out as your lips move to his neck sucking dark marks onto the skin there as your hips continue their sinful movement against his. “Of course mesh’la” he pants, hands finding their way to your hips to help guide your movements against him as his head falls against the back of the couch “but I assure you there is nothing we could do tonight that I haven’t been dreaming about since I met you”

You begin working on the fastenings of his vest, pulling it open as he moves to assist you in removing the fabric from his body before your hands find their way underneath the hem of his shirt, toying with it before he grabs it and pulls it over his head leaving his upper body completely bare before you. You knew he was a soldier, but you never expected him to be quite this built. His chest and arms nothing but lean muscles and while you are busy staring down at his perfectly sculpted body, he begins ridding you of your clothing, pulling your shirt over your head and moving his hands around your back to the fastening of your bra before hesitating for a moment “M-may I?” his stutter is endearing as you nod and feel his nimble fingers work against the offending garment leaving you totally topless before him.

He pauses for a moment, simply taking in the sight before him, committing it to memory before slowly lifting his hands to your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, rolling and tweaking your nipples causing you to arch against him. You hear him speak in hushed whispers, a language you don’t understand before he lowers his lips to one of your pebbled nipples and places it in his mouth. Lathing is tongue against it, sucking and licking before releasing it with a soft ‘pop’ and giving the same attention to your other breast, his hips bucking up against your core the entire time.

After his lips release your nipple, he looks up at you through his yellow tinted goggles “I must admit mesh’la,  It has been a very long time since I participated in any… intimate activities and I do not wish to disappoint you” you smile down at him and he feels his cock throb against the confines of his pants “you don’t need to be perfect Tech, and I wont be disappointed as long as I’m doing this with you” you grind your hips against him for emphasis before standing up and removing your pants, Tech’s eyes trained on you the entire time, watching you reveal more of yourself to him.

You get to your knees before him and he automatically spreads his legs allowing you more space between them as he holds his breath. Your fingers go to the fastening of his pants and you look up at him, with a small nod you undo them and free his weeping length. You gasp slightly at the sheer size of him, he is long, thick and leaking precum. He lets out a hiss through clenched teeth as you wrap your hand around him and give him a few experimental pumps, his hips bucking into your hand for more friction as he screws his eyes shut and lets his head fall back.

Lost in the feeling of your hand wrapped around him, he lets out a sinful moan as your hand is replaced by the wet heat of your mouth, hands going to the back of your head to tangle in your hair as your lips wrap around his throbbing length. “O-oh mesh’la you’re perfect ahh- absolutely p-perfect” he grunts out as he feels himself hit the back of your throat. You drag your lips up his length before settling into a steady rhythm. Tech loses himself in the feeling of your mouth against his cock, speaking in a combination of basic and Mando’a, praising you, telling you how amazing you feel as his hand rests on the back of your head.

It's not long before he pulls you off of him, a string of saliva connected from your mouth to his cock as you look up at him “I apologise, any more of that and I would ejaculate prematurely and I wish for this to be a pleasurable experience for both of us” he impresses himself by managing to speak full sentences as he pants, he was sure that his capabilities for speech left him the moment you wrapped your lips around him. You smile, pumping his slick length a few times before standing, ridding yourself of your panties and returning to your previous position of straddling his lap, now with no barriers between you.

Tech reaches his hand between your legs, fingers brushing against your folds “Kriff… y-you’re so wet mesh’la” he grits out, the feeling of your soaking entrance almost enough to send him over the edge. “It’s all for you Tech” you whisper into his ear, your breath fanning over his skin making him shudder as you slowly lower yourself onto him.

If the feeling of your mouth was intense, Tech was not ready for the feeling of your tight walls wrapping around him. It took every ounce of control not to paint your walls with his seed the moment your heat fully engulfed him. His fingers were digging into your thighs, his eyes were screwed shut as he focused on his breathing as he felt his length throb inside of you. You rested your head against his shoulder, moaning out his name as the feeling of his girth overwhelmed you. After waiting a moment for both of you to adjust you slowly raise yourself up off him and slam your hips back down, drawing a ragged moan from the both of you. Tech simply held on for dear life as you took control, riding him as he babbled and rambled about how good you felt, about how you were so tight about how he had never felt anything this good.

It took all of his remaining brain power to bring one of his hands down to start rubbing tight circles against your clit, causing your walls to flutter around him, clenching and squeezing around his cock as he drew ever closer to his peak.

“W-where” he manages to groan out between loud moans of your name.

“I-inside- ah-” your permission was all he needed to be pushed him over the edge into euphoria, his nerves set alight as he pumped rope after rope of hot cum inside you, filling you up and spilling out of you as you reach your own peak atop him, your clenching walls bordering on overstimulation but he would never complain.

You led the two of you to your bedroom before reminding him to tell hunter that he would not be home tonight, Hunter telling him to simply stay safe and that he would see him tomorrow morning. Exhausted and oh so content, it wasn’t long before the two of you passed out in each other’s arms, wrapped in your soft blankets, entirely ignorant to the outside world.

The next morning after another round of lovemaking, Tech returns to the parlour, his brothers and Phee present around the bar. Wrecker lets out a holler as he see’s the dark marks you left on him the night before, smacking him on the back as he makes his way to the bar. Tech slides into the stool next to Phee as she smirks over towards him “I’m glad you two finally worked it out” she sips her drink “Yes… Thank you for your help”

I thought I could try and help recontextualize the relationship between Tech and Phee a little bit so let me know if it helps soothe some of that heartache because I genuinely love Phee, but I totally understand the emotions if Tech is your man. She wants yall together as much as you do dw

@where-is-my-mind-tho @starborncyare @antishadow2021 @healingskywalker @crosshairlovebot@ttzamara@sunshinesdaydream@bambambunny@madameminor

[blank-slate-jay]

Shared Warmth

Joel Miller x Male!Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Summary: Joel brings reader to an abandon home, that he wants to call home for the two of you. Something erotic in Joel ensues seeing you in just your underwear.

Tags: Smut (18+), Anal, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Pet Names, Dom!Joel, Fluff, Established Relationship, no use of (y/n)

A/N: Longest fic I've ever written so far. I don't know how I managed to conjure this! Could've split this into two parts, but decided this is better as one post to make this more cohesive. Enjoy!

AO3! | Reposts are much appreciated!

——————————————————

"You'll see," is what you had received.

A response with very little context, a saying with many different meanings.

You didn't know what to make of this, sitting behind him on the horse with your arms around his waist, you genuinely felt left in the dark. It was very much like Joel to leave you questioning the tones under his voice. Most of the time it was just Joel being Joel, being the closed off man that he was. But the man was in a very good mood, deliberately mocking your naivety with a chuckle.

You sighed, "where are you taking me", saying it more toward yourself than to Joel. Being nearly a day away from Jackson, the question was a reasonable one. After all, what purpose was there to go beyond Jackson for? A gated community was a blessing in times like these, and yet strangely for you, something felt off. Living there has made you feel out of place, made your relationship with Ellie and Joel seemly less meaningful. Perhaps being in a safe haven, with so many people, wasn't truly what you sought.

Bizarre for sure that if you say it out loud, you knew people would call you crazy. You yourself felt you might’ve lost your mind. However, you can’t deny your feelings. Those days, weeks, and months traveling with Joel and Ellie across the country - those were some of the best times you've had even with the looming danger around every corner.

Regardless of what was going through your head, you weren't complaining, being back out into the world. The orange glow of the sun only served to emphasize this notion, piercing through the branches just above your head. It created this relaxing setting, one you can bask in for an unhealthy amount of hours.

"Do you have an idea of where we might be goin'," Joel asked.

Cruel. Just damn cruel, asking you a question you knew he'd leave open ended. Still, you played along.

"I’m assuming it’s pretty big,” after relaying that the man hums finally providing you with a clue, even if its unspecified. “…and that you aren’t playing some trick on me. So, a mall?”

“Try again.”

“A museum?”

“Nope…”

You let out a frustrated grunt, wishing the ladder were true. “Lake?”

Joel took longer to respond, “Mmm,” the man thought about it. “Not quite, it’s close by, but not important.”

You scoffed, placing your head on his shoulder, unsure of what he has disclosed so far is true or not, "Should I already know what it is?" Maybe that'll give you the upper hand.

"I doubt you'd guess this," Joel responses.

"So I'm guessing that a no then?"

The older man nods, turning his head to you before replying with a, 'Yeah'. There was no use in trying by that point. The constant persistence wasn't doing you both any favors. Joel probably had a reason to keep it secretive, so why spoil it? Knowing ahead would've made the trip less intriguing, if not boring. And on the bright side, what'll come will actually be a surprise.

Rather than playing into Joel's trickery you let it go, lifting your head back up, "Alright you won, I forfeit."

"Finally givin' up."

You reply, “I think I have too. I’ve ran out of ideas,” you lied just exhausted by the mind tricks, “Unless you want me to keep going?”

Joel partly wanted you to continue, to get back at you for all the times you fucked with him. He was starting to understand the fun in it now and why you did it to him. He settled for one more jab at you, “Will you get it a right this time?”

"Shut it" you giggle, bumping the man's thighs with your legs. Your comment did do the trick, as Joel fell silent after your remark. You could tell the man was smiling though; his rising cheek gave it away. Some of you was certainly rubbing off onto him, to know the man was now more comfortable with you was flattering.

Joel then reaches down for your leg, placing his hand right over your kneecap, caressing it like it was precious. “Don’t worry now, sugar. We’ll be there shortly.”

His considerate touch, that softness in his voice. Those two components together were enough to send a warm feeling throughout your body. How easy Joel could just captivate you by his touch alone, you guessed that was just how love worked.

You nodded your head as if he could see you, humming to acknowledge his words. Again you laid your head against him, face now between the back of his bare neck and the collar of his blue shirt. Closing your eyes, you let yourself listen to the sounds of nature around you to pass the time.

---

Sometime later, you found yourself opening your eyes to the sound of Joel's voice. Your vision, well adjusted to the growing darkness of dusk, focused on the dirt path some feet away.

"We're here," Joel says, spiking your interest enough to get your full attention. You lean back from the man's frame, hands rubbing the bags under your eyes.

Taking a look at the dirt path, you gaze in both direction. One leading deeper into the forest and the other extended out into a clearing. You confusingly study the area, unable to spot anything of interest. No water, no structure, not even a tree with any unique properties. You couldn't help feeling a bit bewildered, some of that feeling escaping through your lips with a quick 'Umm'. Stealing a glance at Joel's side profile, you tried reading what little you could see of his face.

He nods, "Good. You're awake. It's just this way," he explains, spurring the horse to get them moving in the direction of the dirt path.

Huffing in relief you spoke, "Phew, not gonna lie you almost got me there," thinking Joel might've been toying with you still. He turns his head to you, claiming that he wasn't going to bring you out there for nothing. If the man had told you that some time ago, you would have a hard time believing him.

Trotting forward, the horse comes into close proximity of the tree lines. Just on the other side you could barely see something faint between the leaves; a building of sorts. By what you could see the distance made it difficult to tell with the addition of nature covering your view. The universe really made things difficult for you. For what what it was worth, you were sure Joel didn't want you to see it until you stepped out into the open field. Still, the suspense was killing you.

This wasn't going to last any longer as Joel turns the horse right into the clearing. The tree's now finally out of view, you were hit with the red beam from the sun, blinded by your curiosity and in exchange being blinded by the sun in return.

You squint some, grunting as your gaze trailed around the perimeter. There was lots of tall grass, a noticeable transition compared to the on's just behind them. It stretched far beyond what your eyes could already see. Of course your mind was then caught up by the building some distance away.

There was a house. Someone's house. A house, that looked to be in good conditions. Surprisingly the lone tree just beside it has yet to infect the home with any vines. It made you believe that someone had to have lived here not too long ago. That person was one lucky bastard to have that home to themselves, you thought, imagining how nice the interior had looked.

"Ain't that something", Joel spoke, pretending as if it was his first time being there.

You comment, "Looks lively." A good point compared to everything the two of you had seen on the way there.

But Joel corrected you, "It's empty actually, has been for awhile". You let out a quick 'Huh', taking in his words, further scanning the house. The sidings are a tinted white, slightly scrapped on some parts of the wall. The dark colored roof, contrasting with the siding, made the home brighter than it already seemed. The house stood tall, two stories at most based off the windows, with the first floor being linked with the porch.

It was both funny and disheartening how attached you felt to this home already compared to the one you, Joel, and Ellie shared in Jackson. You kill to live in a home like this, not that you hated your existing home, just this one felt...right to you. Exterior alone, it reminded you of your old house pre-outbreak.

"Can we go in," you asked. A silly question, like you needed Joel's permission to enter the desolate property.

Joel responded sarcastically, dragging out the phrase "Nooo", with his gruffy voice. You knew he was only kidding and was now becoming intrigued by what was inside. Even so, the invasive feeling creeping up your stomach didn't go away yet. You looked around, taking in a full scope of the area. You trusted Joel of course, something that had improved since you first met. But your vigilant, alert mind hadn't shifted in the slightest; only improved thanks to being with Joel.

You turn your head around, looking behind you and at the edges of the tree lines to ensure that no one was following or coming. Like it even mattered, Joel had already assured your safety. You guessed it was better safe than sorry.

With your head now facing to the left, you gaze over to the far side of the field. So far that walking there would be ineffective. The field, a tad bit sloped, dragged on into the distance stretching too far for you to even consider. The sun made the entire sight something you'd see only from a painting or photograph. Sure enough, Joel wasn't lying from earlier when he confirmed there was a lake, just far off at the ends of the slope.

Joel steady the horse, grabbing the reins tightly to slow her down to a halt. "Alright," the man sighed. You let go of his waist as he began to move, his boots shaking the stirrups while he steps down from the horse. He then reaches his hand up to you. You gladly took it, allowing the man to pull you down.

You thanked him, a small smile stretching across the side of your face as you looked at the older man. He reciprocated your gesture with a smile of his own, one that made the wrinkles near his eyes stand out. He didn't have to mutter a word for you to know that he heeds your words.

The man turned his attention then to the horse, letting go of your hand in the process. He grabbed the reins and moved the horse over to tie it up to on of the porch's pillars. While he does so, you made your way up the few stairs, the wood creaking beneath your shoes.

Your hands trailed along the rails, rough and also smooth against your skin. Your eyes darting up and down the walls. Closely the walls looked more worn down, not too badly but could use some improvement.

You turned to look back at Joel who was slinging his bag over his shoulder. The man brushes his hand by your arm and passes by you. He walked up to the door before pushing it open. He moves his back agains the open frame, "Come".

Peaking inside for a moment, there was no way the house was empty like Joel had inferred. "Empty, huh. Doesn't look the way to me.", you look at the man with a snarky look on your face.

He looked unfazed by your humor, the man's face falling a bit flat. It reminded you of the times he'd looked at you after having to endure some of your playful banter. Those times were fun back when you traveled the country together with Ellie.

"Get in" he insisted, sounding annoyed but also seconds away from chuckling.

You don't push your luck and brush by the man still with that look on your face as you pass by him. To wipe that look off your face, Joel smacks your backside causing you to yelp; biting his lips in sync. It was a bastard move, but you weren't complaining. Looking back at him was either rewarding or a mistake cause he was making the face you familiarizes yourself with, best described as hunger. God. Choosing your next action carefully was smart cause anything that insight him to grab and kiss you, would lead to something more...erotic.

Not giving into temptation, you turn your attention to the living space ahead, balling your hand into a fist and squeezing it with the other hand. "This is...quite the place," you stated, stepping further into the home. You weren't kidding. The place had an aura very reminiscent of a cabin, the amount of woodwork around the living room alone gave you that impression. However, the house looked and felt homey all the same.

You walked up to a small craved out sculpture, shaped like a bull, placed above the small fire place. While inspecting it's form you brought up a question, "How'd you find all this?"

"Me and Tommy we're riding out", he started as the man trailed over to the wall to place his bag down, "And I wanted to do some more exploring but Tommy wanted to go back. So I let him and luck would have you..," the man finishes by raising his arms up some like he was revealing something grand, "...got my hands on this."

You nod, looking away from him to fiddle with the small bull, "Cool, it's like a comfy outpost. I like it". You then used the bull like a pointer, motioning it in the man's direction, "You weren't gonna hold out on us were you?"

Joel shook his head, making his way over to you. "Firstly this isn't a toy," he says, grabbing the small figure out of your hand. He places it back into its original spot before resuming, "And secondly, I was going to tell you, specifically just you about this place."

He was? You raised an eyebrow in question, wondering what significance a place like this would even have. It wasn't somewhere you'd visited with Joel before, nor was it a house that held any meaning to you prior to arriving. So what gives? "Just me", you muttered.

The man smirked some, finding it adorable how dumbfounded you appeared. He stepped closer to you, close enough to where you could feel the warm heat from his nostrils flaring against your face. “Yeah, just you”, he repeated, his voice now closer to a whisper. 

You could feel his hand grasping at yours as you kept your eyes locked with his. “I’m sorry, I feel I’m missing something here”. The man, obviously still listening, lifts your hand up to his own face, gently rubbing it against his cheek. His scruffy beard, pricked your palm as you cupped the man’s face. 

The man wondered if he should even answer. Your palm, tender against his rough skin nearly made him forget how to speak. Made him almost forget what you had even asked. He had held it longer than he should've, feeling slightly guilty for holding something like this off from you. He felt you inquired more than enough today. 

With your palm, slowly being squished between the man's hand and cheek he explains, "I got this for us. At Tommy's...I know things have been different between us since we got there. We, spend a lot of time outside of town, sometimes don't even spend time with each other much anymore. I thought it'd be nice to have our own space again, you know away from...everything. When I found this it just clicked for me. Felt like we could call this place home."

Your face was at ease, hearing him say what had been on your mind, spiked your attraction to the man further than you thought was possible. Every word, every sentence hit the mark for you. For a moment, you could swear he had to have read your mind at some-point. Either that or being with you had made it easy to determine what was bothering you. Regardless, having a place faraway for yourselves sounded too good to deny, especially when it was exactly what you wanted.

You couldn't quite put your thoughts into words, simply letting out a confused giggle, unsure of how to follow up on Joel's reveal.

Joel takes notice of this, captivated once more by your expression. He then breaks the silence, "You've asked a whole of questions. Now let me ask you this, how do you feel about living here with me, sunshine."

You nodded immediately, maybe a bit too quickly and possibly too eagerly. "I'd...love to," the words finally falling out of your mouth.

The man response, turning his head some to kiss your palm between an utter, "Good." His lips softly trailed down, like he was following the curved lines on your hand. Each kiss felt delicate, purposeful, each with some kind of meaning supposedly. That was just within Joel's transcended mind, he couldn't help himself, he got lost quickly whenever he'd feel your touch.

You leaned yourself forward, pulling your hand away from his mouth to wrap it around the back of his neck. Tugging him forward you embrace him, finding his hips as a comfortable spot to rest your free hand. No surprise, Joel indulged, pulling you into his arms too.

The two of you stood for some time, merely appreciating and savoring the moment of intimacy. You didn't think any words could pinpoint how much you loved Joel. Not even the word ‘loved’ felt like it was doing him justice. It was beyond that.

“What did I do to deserve you," he mutters above your ear.

“Luck," you say.

He hums, knowing it to be true but hating the notion of life without you, fighting for you made it all worth something, made it mean something. He made small circles around your back, just being grateful he had you now, thankful that you made it to this point to be there in his arms.

"I'm making dinner," Joel says, catching you off guard for a moment. "Got the ingredients for your favorite."

You knew what he was talking about, it was meal you'd two shared before and you couldn't keep quiet about your enjoyment of the dish, even while eating the damn thing.

Luck would have you, again, you were about to experience that meal again.

---

You turned the running faucet of the soothing shower off, grabbing the towel just off the shower's hinges to wrap yourself in its warmth. Stepping out the tub, you began to dry yourself, wiping away all the sweat you'd built up after leaving Jackson. Once knowing this new place had running water, you were quick to jump for the shower, never skipping the opportunity to get yourself clean.

Joel was just downstairs prepping dinner for the two of you. You wondered if it was already finished since you spent way too long wandering the upstairs plane; checking the available rooms before finding the shower. You were sure it wasn't even done yet since Joel would've called out for your name by that point.

Wiping away the last remnants of water, you threw on some spare clothing, a shirt and just your underwear, from your backpack before stepping out the restroom. The cooler air hit your body, nothing you wouldn't accept since the season was a lot warmer; spring.

You made your way into the master bedroom. In this case, your shared room with Joel. Not much was in it. Compared to the other bedroom, which hosted nothing at all, this one at least had a bed and a few dressers. You weren't complaining since the room felt less compacted and more freeing.

Walking into the room you toss your towel onto the bed, taking in the open space, a stark contrast to your room back in Jackson. The thought of what you could implement to this room had your mind racing momentarily. Like what you could put within the corners or whether you should put any entertaining devices in the room. Maybe not the last part probably cause Joel would advise keeping those contained to the living room.

It got you pretty thrilled thinking about what you could do in general now that you weren't limited to a communities resources. This of course meant you didn't have as much to work with, but everything you gathered would or could be used to further improve your new home.

You started comparing your home back in Jackson to the one you have here. Down to it's interior, format, and spacing. You thought about the kitchen, dinning area, your shared room, Ellie's room. Ellie. Again you thought about her, a realization hitting you in the process. 'Fuck' you sighed under your breath. So caught up and enthralled by a nice change of environment, you hadn't even thought about her wellbeing.

At the moment, she was at Tommy and Maria's place, likely giving them a hard time as you'd expect. The usual for Ellie. But being so far away from her, not being there for her made you somewhat fazed; a pinch of disgrace too. That girl was tough and she needed to grow up around people to understand what it's like to live. But on the other hand, she'd follow you and Joel to the ends of the earth, she said it herself.

Throughout the wave of thoughts, washing within your head, you were by the window now. Hands perched up on the dresser just below the glass's border. The spot made for a great place to reflect. Perhaps this would be a good position to do it, overlooking the grassy plains, it gave your head a hub place to ponder.

If it weren't for you being lost in your thoughts, you would've been aware of the man standing by the door frame watching you; completely out of eyesight. Joel, leaning up on the frame with his arm, exhales an exaggerated sigh to catch your attention.

You turn, startled by the sudden noise. Realizing it was just Joel you relaxed. "You almost gave me a heart attack," you joked.

His presence definitely lightened you up, giving you something to distract yourself from any thoughts running in your head. You'd talk out how to settle Ellie's situation with Joel, it'll work out; you knew it would with Joel by your side.

"Sorry" he started, his eyes gazing upon your exposed legs. "Dinner's ready."

You nod, "Alright. I'll be down in a bit."

You thought after relaying this to Joel, that he'd leave and wait for you downstairs. But he didn't move, his figure remaining still as his eyes stayed focus on you. He nods too, but it seemed more that he did it subconsciously since his eyes weren't locked with yours.

The look was back and more prominent than ever. The dark look that you avoided earlier, was calling out for you to let him have you. Mixed with the half smile across his face made for a deadly combo.

You tried being clever, looking about the room to see if your bag was in sight. It wasn't, but you were sure it was still in the restroom after changing out your clothes. "I'm gonna grab my pants, really quick-"

"You don't have to" Joel says, his fingers playing with his nails. "I think you look fine already."

Failed, you tried getting to see if the man would hold off, tried keeping him at bay at least until you both were in bed. But no, you only drew more attention to your undergarments. To make matters even worse, Joel's gruff voice had caused a twitch between your legs. A slight growth a hardness, noticeable by both of you.

Joel bit his lips, taking his weight off of the door, "You're not too hungry, right?"

This was the one time where choosing your words carefully would be wise at the moment. However, you felt there was no turning back now. He wanted you, now. And you wanted him more. You sheepishly shook your head, "Not really", finally falling for the man's glare.

While you spoke, Joel already had closed the gap between you too, looking into your eyes for a moment. He hooks the front of your trousers with his finger, pulling you closer to him until his lips were locked with yours. You inhaled deeply, feeling a tingle shake your spine.

He cups the sides of your face, passionately parting his lips to slide his tongue inside. Fast as Joel was to get things going, you accepted. The warmth elevated by the mixing of each others taste made the tightness in your underwear uncomfortable.

Joel's huffs deeply into the kiss, his grip, grew stronger with each passing second. His weight started to shift your stance, causing you to back up until you hit the dresser behind you. You grunted against his mouth, not letting the movement stop you from continuing to brush your tongue against his.

Both moaning and breathing heavily, you grab at his collar shirt, playing with one of the buttons to get it open. You tried getting him to undress, a chance taken from you when he grabs your wrist tightly. The man wanted nothing but to feel your skin against his own. He wanted to savior the moment. He liked the build up, he loved the anticipation.

His hands were free from your face, but they soon started invading your shirt. He rampaged through it, running them around your shirt before sticking them in by your sides. You tremble at his touch. His hand created a warm sensation on your skin, reminding you of the times he’d draw circles on your back whenever you’d lay in bed together.

For you, gripping his jawline pulled you two closer, crotches colliding too. It peaked Joel’s interest, his eyebrows raising between the groans against your lips. Joel’s jeans made it difficult to tell, but it was clear you were hard, just as hard as he was. That got him to smile into the kiss, proud he could get you really erect quickly.

You parted your lips from his, only a few inches apart. You used the moment to catch some air, something you knew you wouldn't be granted later the further you proceed.

You questioned his smile, "What?" "Nothing," he says, his accent rolling off the tip of his tongue. "Just you". He waits a moment before throwing himself back into the fray, wanting your lips to be sealed with his.

Aggressive, he pushes you harder against the dresser, unintentionally crushing you moments before dipping down to grab your legs and halting you onto the wooded surface. The dresser creaked, not adapted to a person being onto but that didn't concern either of you. The man caress your thigh, slow and aimlessly, while his other hand yanked at the front of your underwear once more.

He wanted you to take them off so badly and you didn't waste a moment. You shook yourself, getting enough room under you to slip them off. Joel helped, his steaming breath hitting your slowly exposing skin made you pick the pace up. He help fully get them off, letting the cloth hit the ground. His gaze fixed on your now exposed erection made him forget to breathe.

“Now your turn”, you said.

Rubbing his hands down your legs, he reaches down for his zipper to unbuckled his pants. His belt clicked and his pants loosened, dropping everything done to the floor with a thud. He swiftly took his underwear off too, slipping it fully off and sliding everything off to the side with his feet.

You let out a shaky exhale, your eyes so baffled by how hard his cock was; rock solid and strictly standing upward. Your started pondering if you could even take it. Under these conditions you would have to take him raw. There had to be something to use, you thought something to make it easier for him.

“Hey”, Joel’s voice soft on your ears. He tilts your head up to hold your gaze, “Eyes on me.” He slowly caresses the features on your face, adoring just how amazing your eyes looked and how kissable your lips were. Those lips, looking at them intently he slips his thump across the bottom half. He wanted to nibble on them, gently bite to leave a mark on them; to leave evidence of his pass doings.

He used his other hand to play with your cock, making sure you were staying hard for him. You assisted him with your palm overlapping his; working in unison. It was subtle and worked to keep you both pleasured while focusing on the man.

Joel dipped his finger between your lips, “Open your mouth, baby”. Your lips separated and he slid his finger in. A bitter taste hit the roof of your mouth as he swirled his finger around. “Get it nice and wet for me. Gonna need it for the hole of yours.”

So this was the alternative. Normally you and Joel would talk about using some sort of cream for sex. With seemingly none around to use, your mouth would have to do. You started sucking on his finger for a bit, his thick finger, took up a good portion of your mouth. Not enough to suffocate like his cock, but enough to make you think about how to manage your tongue’s movement. After the first finger he switched it out for another, a small line of saliva leaking out every time he’d pull out.

Three finger were soaked now, three fingers you were sure would break you, more than his cock would. You shiver, trying to estimate the width of his fingers with that of his cock. It served no purpose other than question your capabilities. What good did that do you, especially now?

Joel releases your cock, and trails his hands down to your balls. You knew where he was headed, this wasn’t your first rodeo with Joel. You lifted your leg up, leaning back onto one elbow to keep yourself upright. Joel effortlessly threw your hovering leg over his shoulder, getting a view of what he’d been dying to see. Your hole, albeit at an angle was still visible and accessible which was the only thing that mattered to Joel.

The man, looked to your eyes for conformation, he wanted to make sure you were ready. There wasn't a hint of denial in your face, Joel loved that look.

Coming into close contact, he circles around your entrance. His rough fingers toyed with your hole, allowing the sensations to prepare you for his soon to come entry. God the feeling alone was making you wish he just put himself inside you, knowing it might hurt but still wanting him to push deep in.

No longer waiting, Joel pushes a finger inside, slowly. You narrowed your brows, the walls of your ass being breached caused a slight spark in your stomach. His finger slid relatively easily, getting your breathing to become shakier than before. It was nothing you couldn't take and his finger was satisfying, it might've been enough to make you cum. His second finger though, made itself known too, pushing in with the first.

You winced, wishing Joel had warned you. Two thick fingers inside was about right, it felt about the size of Joel's cock at it's hardest. Staying with this rhythmic push and pull inside your hole made you believe you were ready for him to fuck you. But one other finger remained, one still damp and set to go.

A yelp escaped your lips feeling the third join the other two. It hurt for sure, causing you to throw your head back as a jolt reaction. You bump the glass pane behind you, the light outside barely shining onto the side of your face. You reached up to grab at Joel's collar, the fabric bringing some level of comfort with it's pure softness.

"Relax..." the man groans.

Fuck you wanted to, but how could you when the man was expanding your ass with every thrust. It made you grip his collar tightly as you kept your eyes tight to prevent it a tear from falling. The feeling was both painful and enjoyable, the tingles running up your stomach never ceased and neither did the sting in your hole.

You started to tell, no, insist that he fuck you. It escaped your mouth through a whine, a part of you wanting him to just remove a finger or two to let you relax. You knew it had purpose, you knew why he was pushing your limits. The longer you held, the easier it would be for him to push himself inside of you. Still you begged, "Please...Joel...take me, just fuck me."

Through your closed eyelids you couldn't see the man, shamelessly smirking, "Oh yeah? Tell me how bad you want it, sugar pie."

You gasp, "Bad".

He groans, "Yeah?". He licks his lips, "Want me to go really deep in there, want to me fuck you real good."

"Uh...huh"

He pushes fingers deeper than usual "How badly?"

You gasped, "Really fucking bad. FUCK".

Joel groans, acknowledging your plead. If you wanted it that badly, he wish you told him sooner. He pulls his fingers out, the sounds of your hole getting him excited. It was wet now, just the way he liked it. In one swift motion, Joel flings your other, idle leg over his shoulder and yanks you forward until your backside was against his crotch. His cock, bumping into your balls got another sound out of you.

You relax into the dresser the best you could, letting your elbows rest and leaning your head back until it was laying against the glass again. It wasn't the most comfortable positions for your neck, you didn't pay much mind to this though as Joel began running his hands up your thighs. With your legs so close to his face, he also started leaving kisses and bite marks you knew would be visible the next day. He wasn't about to let you off without at least some marking, whether it'd be visible later or hidden by your clothes didn't concern him.

Breathing hard against your skin, his gaze turns back to his hard-on. He reaches for it, while overlooking your body. He lines it up to your hole pushing, not inside of you yet, but rather around the exterior.

Again with the teasing, you thought, wanting to roll your eyes but refusing to try. Did the man not tire of his own nonsense? You shifted your hip toward his cock, physically telling him to knock it off and shove it in you.

He locks eyes with you then, seeing your desperate and longing expression. You chewed down on your lips, seeing how the man's eyes had darken since last you laid upon them. He just smirked, looking down between your legs before pushing himself in.

It hurt but not as much as his fingers. The aftermath of those three invaders acted as a testament to how well you could still take the man in strides. For what it was worth, they did make it easier for him to slide into you.

He slipped in and out easily, smooth like butter. His thrust started methodically, getting familiar with your hole's interior again. He groaned, his cock pulsating against the edges, trying to find your sweet spot.

He wasn't able too, it wasn't that easy. You had laid there making hush moans that could only be audible for anyone within the room. It was striking and incredibly hot to Joel hearing you try to conceal your voice. It came off is if you were going to burst, like you were going to scream out his name, that was something else entirely.

Thinking about it gave him a surge, a rush that rapidly increases his pace. His hips smacking up against your ass, created a sound that vibrated your body. Each smack, was music to the man's ears, meld together now with your rising grunts. It probably was the best thing he'd ever heard.

You were losing it on the other hand. Your body trembled, your eyes became hazy, your mind completely in shambles; a mess best described it all. So much so that you had no idea what was even happening, questioning what was even real.

Were you becoming stupid with each thrust or did you completely lose your mind to him. His strides were beginning to make you see stars, more pleasing than the ones you'd see in the sky. A sudden overwhelming feeling rushes from your stomach all the way to your head, the strongest sensation you've felt all day. It made you feel light, like you had been consumed by the clouds.

This strange halt in your mind lasted for a minute before coming back from being on autopilot. You were semi-confused as your body was on a softer surface now. Your body lays flat, Joel's entire weight on top of you. Your senses were coming back to you.

The dresser was no longer your resting place but rather it was now the bed. Joel had lifted you up moments ago, still inside you, and crashed you both onto the mattress. Surprisingly that didn't snap you out of it, but what was even more confusing was the wetness near your stomach, just in between your stomach and Joel's. It was quite sticky. Wait, you stopped your mind from racing, ignoring Joel's rough groans in your ears for a second. You already came, you totally did. Your cock didn't feel restrained nor was it in any desire need to let loose any longer.

Shit, you thought, not realizing the man had satisfied you. You got lost in thought due to him hitting your sweet spot, it explained why your mind went into a frenzy. The feeling sent you over the edge again, jolting you back to reality this time; he hit it again.

You cry out as a response.

"Fuck, I'm gonna blow, I'm gonna fucking blow". Joel groaned.

You couldn't speak a word, it was too much, too much to bear. You dug your nails into the back of his shirt and pulled him closer with your legs around his waist. Your strength was dwindling, and you didn't have the voice to tell him to finish. If he kept it up any longer you were surely gonna cum again.

Joel's voice was deafening against your ears, his rhythm completely erratic and harsh against your hole. He went all out, posting himself up onto his elbows and thrusting into you like it was his last. He could feel the sharpness on his back, a deep sting from you nails pushing further into his skin. He watched as tears rolled down your face, wanting nothing but to wipe them away. He was right there, he could feel it rising up.

A few more rough thrusts did the trick. Joel grunted, holding his breath for a second as his cock convulsed before blowing. It came out fast, faster than he expected, squirting strings of cum in succession against your interior. He squinted his eyes, as he came quickly back down to your neck.

Joel's cock had settled, just as the two of you were. Exhausted beyond belief, you felt weak, one of your slipping off the man's back. You both relish in each other's touch, your breaths becoming steady at last.

The man's body shifts, causing you discomfort from still being inside of you. He reaches down to pull out, a quiet groan breaking free from your sealed lips. He used his other hand to cup and rub your cheek, his way of showing his gentleness after the affair. The man's cum oozed out, running down onto the mattress. You could feel how wet and loose it had become. Compared to the last time Joel had fucked you, you weren't as messy as you were now.

He then looked over to the side, seeing the towel you had used from earlier. He grabs it and wipes away the stains on your stomach.

You let out a sigh followed by locking eyes with Joel. They looked a lot more calmer, vibrant even just by his soothing demeanor.

As he finished wiping you clean the corner of his lips rose, "We should go eat."

Just like that, he had nothing left to say, acting as if nothing just happened. You scoffed at how quick the man could go from wanting to devour you to being a sensual man who wanted to give you the world. You weren't ready to rise from your position, not yet. You yank the towel out of his grasp before pulling him back down onto you.

Dinner can wait, just a bit longer.

[casuallyobssessed]

Book Club - John Wick x Fem!Reader ❥ 2.6k Words

A/N: Been having visions about this so I had to write it. My first John Wick/Keanuverse fic and the longest one shot i've written to date, hope you enjoy it! No beta, if you see any problems lmk!

Warnings: P in V Sex, Reader Insert with no use of Y/N, Explicit Smut, Slight dom/sub undertones, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Cunnilingus, Choking

He was sweet, almost sickeningly so sometimes. Taking his time, being overly tender, and checking in on you every few minutes. You wanted more. You wanted hard, fast, rough... and John Wick was no stranger to rough. Even though he was in retirement, you knew that part of him had to still be there underneath his now soft exterior. At least you hoped. After years of hard, fast, and rough, John decided to settle down with you. He wanted that soft, slow, and gentle life with you, no matter what it took. At one point, that's what you had wanted, too.

One day, something changed, shifted within you. You loved John. Of course you did. He was everything you had ever dreamed of in a man. You both craved the simpler things in life. There were even a few hobbies you shared, one of which was reading. Each week, you'd both pick a book for the other to read. After the week was up, you'd have a date night in the living room, reviewing that week's books over dinner. Unfortunately, this is where the problem first arose.

A friend strongly recommended a book that had recently grown in popularity. 'The Modern Husband.' From the summary, it seemed like a cheesy romance novel. Being the trusting person that you were, you took their recommendation and purchased the book. You hoped it was something he'd get a good laugh from. But when it arrived, you forgot to actually read it. The book stayed in its box until the day you gave it to John. Later, before your weekly scheduled date night, John approached you. He had the book in his hand and a concerned look on his face.

"Did you give me the right book?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"I'm not," He cleared his throat before continuing, "comfortable reading any more of this."

"Is it that bad?" You laughed, thinking the book had to be too corny for his liking.

"You should take this back."

John handed the book over to you. His expression was unreadable at this point, adding to your confusion. You took the book and thumbed through a few of the beginning pages. It wasn't that bad in your opinion, maybe a little boring.  A few more page turns and you got into the next chapter. Oh. 'How To Train Your Wife In Five Easy Steps!' And then the next. 'Discipline Techniques For Today's Couples!' No wonder he didn't want to read it. You stored the book in your nightstand alongside all the other forgotten novels you'd never read.

In the nightstand is where 'The Modern Husband' would lay in wait until one bored, lonely, late night. You had exhausted all your usual reads, so you reached for the drawer of undesirables. Picking it up, you let your curiosity get the better of you. Before, you had only skimmed over a few pages, judging the work only by chapter titles. Settling back comfortably in the pillows on your bed, you began reading the book.

Deep within its pages, 'The Modern Husband' held a treasure trove of kinky, rough ideas that set your brain on fire. There was a familiar ache in your lower stomach, something in this book flipped a switch and you wanted to experiment. Later that night when John came home, he caught you still in bed with the book laid out open beside you, touching yourself to its contents.

A heated conversation ensued upon his discovery of you. You explained to him that the book wasn't all that bad. There were some concepts it highlighted that really interested you. Going back through the pages, you gave him examples of some of the more aberrant activities you wanted to try. He listened intently as you spoke, and it seemed that he was really giving it some thought. Ultimately, he expressed his displeasure at the thought of treating you any way but lovingly.

"John, please?" You stood in front of him, trying your best to convince him to try something, anything from the book.

"I don't want to hurt you," John shook his head.

"Even if I'm asking you nicely?"

"Even if you ask nicely, no."

"Oh, come on!" I huffed at him, "You're not bored of the same stuff we always do?"

John was quiet, taken aback by your statement. He looked... hurt. That definitely was not what you wanted. You begged him to try something new with you. Of course the sex with him was great, it always was. You were simply suggesting something to spice things up a bit. Something not so vanilla.

To John, it was like you were asking the impossible of him. Your John was kind, respectful, and considerate. The John you wanted him to be, well, that was completely opposite of who he was now. Throughout your entire relationship, John has always been your safe space. Maybe that's why you trusted him to do this for you.

"I just..." Sighing, you took a step towards him, "I just want you to be a little rough with me sometimes. That's all I'm asking."

He looked down at you contemplatively with a suspicious twinkle in his eye. Suddenly, John had his large hand wrapped around your throat, pushing you back against the wall. The impact knocked the breath out of you. You tried taking a deep breath, but it was proving rather difficult. It wasn't enough force to truly hurt you, just enough to make you feel his control. The slight restriction of your breathing only fueled your arousal. You felt more alive than you had in weeks.

John's eyes darkened like a man possessed.

"Is this what you wanted?" John growled, tightening his grip on your throat.

You grinned. This was exactly what you wanted. Your persistence was paying off. Finally. His fingers danced at the hem of your nightgown, rubbing circles on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You cursed yourself for not having on any underwear. The inside of your thighs were already slick. He slowly slid his hand up and underneath the fabric. Instinctively, you let your legs fall open for him.

"Already so wet for me, hm?" John whispered gruffly in your ear, sending chills down your spine. His fingers found their way between your wet folds, brushing over your sensitive clit. You gasped as he teased you before pulling away from you completely. He stepped backwards, leaving you breathless. Sitting down on the bed, he began undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt enough to be comfortable. When you came back to your senses, you wandered over to him, wanting more of whatever he was willing to give you. Before you could get any closer, he reached out a hand and placed it on your hip, effectively stopping you.

"Uh-uh. Strip." He commanded, patting your hip and leaning backwards to rest his on his arms.

He watched your slow, deliberate movements as you began to undress. Your hands trembled slightly as you slid the straps of your negligee off your shoulders. Carefully, you pulled the material down to reveal your breasts before letting it drop in a puddle at your feet. Being naked in front of John was nothing new to you, but this time it felt different. The way his eyes prowled your form made you feel exposed down to your bones. His gaze burned into you, intense and predatory.

Once you finished your short lived strip show, John sat back up and pulled you on to his lap, allowing you to straddle him.  You draped your arms over his shoulders, lips hovering an inch away from his. He was still in his clothes. The bulge growing in his pants rubbed abrasively against your wet pussy, soaking the fabric.

John was the one to close the distance between you by hungrily pressing his lips to yours. This kiss felt different, too. The way he bit your bottom lip, let his tongue explore your mouth... He was taking complete control of you. While he devoured you, you pressed your body into his, leisurely grinding down on his bulge. He was the first to pull away and you let out a rather embarrassing whine at the loss of his mouth. Swiftly, he stood up, holding you up long enough for him to turn around and toss you back onto the bed.

"Stay put," He mumbled. You obeyed, opting to close your eyes and take a deep breath to gather your thoughts. You could hear the sound of him unbuckling his belt, the metallic clinks echoed through the room. The anticipation of what would be to come was lighting your senses up like a Christmas tree. When he finished removing his belt, he crawled back into the bed with you. He was still mostly dressed, with his pants pulled down just enough to reveal his thick cock.

Once he was over you, he leaned down, and his hand gripped your wrists tightly, pinning them above your head. This was a man you didn't recognize. The wild look in his eyes made you shiver. He was now between your legs, cock between your folds, rubbing against your clit. He left sloppy kisses along your neck, biting your skin as he traveled down your chest. His free hand held your breast, roughly squeezing it and pulling on your nipple. Licking a trail up your chest, he traced his tongue along your collarbone, and made his way up to your ear.

"Beg me for it," John ordered, his voice cold.

"Please," You whimpered, "please."

"What do you want?"

"Please fuck me, Sir."

You don't know why you called him that. You vaguely remembered reading a chapter in the book about calling your husband 'Sir' in the bedroom. Clearly, it had the desired effect because he growled in your ear before releasing the hold he had on your hands. His own hands grabbed your waist and quickly flipped you over onto your stomach. Moving his grip down a bit, he pulled your hips up and back towards him.

His fingers were on your cunt again, rubbing back and forth against your clit, the action both brutal and tender. Eventually, his digits found their way back to your hole. He slipped one finger in, then two, gently massaging in and out of you. Slowly, he added a third finger and the stretch felt almost too much for you. You groaned and leaned forward, wanting to pull away from the intrusion. John tsk'd at you before tugging you backwards, fully onto all three fingers.

Satisfied with how he had prepared you, he pulled his fingers out of you, and began situating himself behind you. The head of his cock lined up perfectly with your cunt, and slowly pushed into your tight, wet heat. You couldn't help the moan that ripped from your throat as he slid himself inside. Unlike when you normally had sex, John did not wait for you to get used to him stretching you out. This time, he instantly started fucking into you. He was taking what he wanted from you while you cried out in pleasure.

"You like it, don't you? Being treated like this?"

You nodded emphatically into the mattress. It was all you could manage to do in the fucked out state you were in. Though, it seemed like that response wasn't good enough for your lover. His thrusts became achingly slow. He grabbed your hair, yanking your head back sharply.

"Speak."

"Yes."

"Yes what?" Without warning, his other hand came down hard on your ass before you could respond.

"Yes, sir!" You cried out in surprise, voice breaking slightly. You were enjoying where this was going. You asked for a little spice and John was giving you way more than you bargained for.

"Good girl," He caressed the spot where he hit you, as if he was rubbing the pain away. The praise made you feel dizzy. He grabbed your hip, gently squeezing it before he started moving inside you again.

This time, John's thrusts were more erratic. Using your hair as leverage, he was pumping in and out of you at a bruising pace. The way his cock was throbbing inside of you, he had to be getting close. The grip he had on your hip tightened, sure to leave bruises the next day. Your walls tightened around him and before you knew it, he was spilling into you with a bestial groan.

With that, John pulled out of you completely, leaving you full of his cum but aching for your own release. Was he seriously going to leave you like this without getting you off? Yes, you wanted rough, but you didn't want negligent. You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, turning back to look at him with a mix of longing and confusion.

"What are you doing?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed your hips, flipped you onto your back, and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He started to explore you. From teasing your nipples with light pinches to taking one of them into his mouth and rolling the sensitive bud between his teeth. You watched through lidded eyes as he made his way down your body. His little kisses down your belly lit embers within your core. Intensely holding your gaze, he positioned himself on his knees between your thighs.

He tucked one of his arms up under your leg to hold your thigh still and pulled both of your legs over his shoulders. You could feel his hot breath ghosting against your wet heat. He pressed a sweet kiss against your pussy before his tongue darted out to taste you. Each stroke against you was calculated. He started by skillfully cleaning up the mess he left behind to then gently slipping two fingers inside your used hole. The sensation was leaving you a mewling, squirming mess. You writhed beneath him as his tongue worked in rhythmic patterns against your clit. You were so focused on the pleasure, you didn't even mind the way his beard rubbed harshly against your skin.

"Don't stop," You moaned and tangled your fingers in his dark hair. Your wish was his command; he kept his digits pumping in and out of you steadily, his tongue working overtime to please you. Your legs shook uncontrollably against him. Your chest heaved with each strained breath you took. There was an urgency in the whines that fell from your mouth, there was no denying you were getting close.

"Cum for me, Darling."

It was a command, but the edge had left his voice. His words rumbled against your swollen cunt. Fuck. It was just enough to push you hard over the edge. You unraveled under his tongue. White hot lightning shockwaves shot through you, back arching, body convulsing as your thighs tightened around John's head. Your vision blacked out momentarily as you rode out the waves of pleasure coursing through you.

With a final lick against your soaked folds, he rose up from his position on the floor and kissed his way up to your lips. As he kissed you, soft and slow, you could feel your wetness on his beard and taste the saltiness of yourself on his lips. He collapsed beside you, reaching out to hold your hand.  You were both heavy breathing messes. This was the John that you recognized. He had managed to include a bit of almost everything you asked of him, and then some. How you got so lucky, you didn't know.

[i05wook]

forgive me - wang yixiang

pairing: bf! nicholas x gn! Reader (ft. enhypen and mentions of euijoo)

genre: angst, fluff, romance, established relationship au, idol au

warnings: swearing (lots of it) fighting/argument, kiss scene at the end!!

Wc: 2.5k 

Summary: When you have had a really long, awful day at work, and so has Nicholas. So when a misunderstanding happens between you, you take a breather before you say something really outta pocket. However, despite Nicholas being the one in the wrong, he is still worried about where you could have ran off to. Nothing will calm his brain until he finds you.

author’s notes: ahh thank you so much for the request anon!! I slightly went off track with parts of this request so I hope that’s okay, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing this!! This is one of my longest works I think I’ve ever written, and thank you so much to @wvnkoi @jisungsdaydreamer @odxrilove @liumoonlight and @uwuheeseungie for beta-reading this for me as I was writing it!! 

*bao bei = baby

**qin qin = dear one

Today was just not your day. You had a long and stressful day at work, where nothing seemed to go right all day, all starting from the morning. As soon as you stepped out of your apartment building that morning, it began raining heavily, already soaking you before you could reach for your umbrella in your bag. When you finally managed to get your umbrella up, a strong gust of wind blew seconds later, turning it inside out, and despite many efforts to fix it, the wind had ultimately broken your umbrella beyond repair.

As if the rest of your day could get any worse, you had managed to spill your coffee all over you, smash your phone screen, and your laptop had crashed twice; all by the time of your first meeting. The meeting, however, went great, but as soon as it finished, everything began going wrong again.

Firstly your car had a flat tire, meaning you had to get a taxi back to your apartment, as your boyfriend Nicholas wasn’t able to pick you up due to dance practice for his latest comeback. Then, when you phoned for a taxi, they told you it was going to be over an hour's wait for one to pick you up from work.

The final straw however just so happened to be deciding to take the bus home, sure, it dropped you off further away from your apartment building, but it was much quicker than the 45 minute walk in the still heavy rain. However, just as the bus stop was in sight, the bus sped past you - through a giant puddle, and straight past the bus stop. The bus that ran near to your apartment complex only ran once an hour, so at this point you would have been doomed to wait another hour, or just face the long walk home.

Ultimately, with the want to get home and just hide away from the world as quickly as possible, you decided to just face the long walk home in the downpour. Somehow the rain now matched your mood, contrary to this morning, as you walked the streets, no umbrella in sight due to the unfortunate events of this morning. It seemed that as you passed through the swarms of people that were scattered across the length of the sidewalk, they all seemed to be staring at you, somehow aware, and sympathetic of the events that had occurred to you that day.

Finally, having arrived at your apartment a whole hour after you left the office, you took your shoes off and rounded the corner into your bathroom. Immediately, you started up the shower before grabbing some warm, dry clothes, and turn on the heating in your apartment. Once the shower had reached its optimal temperature you migrated from the cold, tiled floor of your bathroom, into the shower cubicle.

You stood in the shower, the warm water cascading down into the drains, washing away the worries of the day. After thirty minutes had passed, you hopped out of the shower and got changed into your warm clothes that you had laid out on the bed. Nicholas wasn’t expected home for at least another three hours or so, therefore, you held off on doing the housework for a little bit whilst you continued to destress after the day. 

You flopped down, face first onto the sofa in the living room, and burrowed into the blanket that laid on the back of it. Anything to take your mind off the shit show that was today. You turned your head to face the television, and dragged your arm up and out the comfort of the blanket, to turn the tv on for any sort of background noise that would help turn your brain off. You came across a chinese drama on netflix, called hidden love, that piqued your interest. Eventually the distraction worked and you happened to fall asleep fifteen minutes into the second episode. 

You were rudely awakened by the sound of the front door slamming open, followed by a sweet call from your boyfriend, Nicholas. “Baobei, wo hui le!*” He called out to you sweetly. Shit. You thought, you hadn’t meant to fall asleep for so long. You hadn’t had the chance to do any of the house work you wanted to before he got back from dance practice. Hell, you hadn’t even made dinner yet, which was the plan you guys had discussed the day before. 

“Shit, qin qin** I’m so sorry. I fell asleep after I got home from work.  I didn’t have a chance to tidy up before you got home but I’ll go make dinner for us now.” you quickly rambled, still flustered and half asleep from your nap. 

“Fucks sake y/n, it’s not hard to just do one thing. It was the only thing I asked of you y/n, and it was to make dinner. Seriously.” Nicholas shouted at you, seriously startling you. It was unlike Nicholas to shout at you over something so small, but you could tell he must have had a hard day at practice. Even then though, it didn’t give him the right to scream at you over this. You decided to give it a one last attempt at resolving the issue, proposing ordering takeout for once, but yet again this was shot down by Nicholas’ incessant screaming. 

“Wang Yixiang! I will not have you screaming at me like this. I get that you’ve had a long, shitty day at work, but in case you haven't noticed, so have I. I got absolutely fucking drenched today as I left for work, then dropped my fucking phone because of some stupid idiot in the office, then my laptop crashed right before the most important meeting of my life, then turns out I had a flat tire as I was leaving work, couldn’t call for a taxi, and then missed the stupid fucking bus. Therefore I had to walk the fourty five minute journey home, in the fucking rain again cause my shitty umbrella broke this morning. So, excuse me for the fact that when I got home, I was trying to keep my shit together and forget about the day that I’ve endured, and the only way I could do that was having a fucking nap on the couch.” You screamed back at him. This was the first time you guys had had an argument like this, and you were just so frustrated by everything, that tears threatened to spill over the edge of your waterline.

“I’m only human, Nicho, and there’s only so much that I can take in one day. I’m sorry that I didn’t live up to my words, but shit happens. Please, don’t follow me, I’ll be back soon, I promise.” You spluttered out to him, turning your back to him, pulling on your worn out trainers and grabbing the first coat on the rack, before sliding out the front door. 

Luckily, you had your phone already in hand throughout the entire argument, which meant you could leave the toxic environment of the apartment quicker. You really didn’t want to say anything else that could hurt him, the words exchanged were already borderline hateful towards him but you were just so frustrated at the idea of his problems being the only problems in his world. Just thinking of how harsh you had been towards him, caused the tears to finally fall down your cheeks, as you headed towards your best friend, Heeseung’s dorms. Instead of surprising him at the door, in the unfortunate state you were already in, you decided it would only be proper to phone him and let him know of your intentions to crash at his for a couple hours before you felt stable enough to go back to Nicholas. 

You picked up your phone and began to dial Heeseung’s number. The call tone began to ring and ring, and at one point you thought it was going to get cut off. It wasn’t until you lost the hope of him picking up his phone that he answered you. 

“Hey, y/n. How are you doing, love*?” Heeseung asked you, his tone of voice as sweet as ever. In fact, the ever so sweet tone of your best friend, made you lose all sense of composure prior to him answering your call. 

“Seung…” was all you could manage to utter before you absolutely broke down in tears, thinking back over how harsh you had been towards your boyfriend. 

“Y/n, love. What’s up? Where are you? Are those cars I can hear?” He asked at a quick pace, with a worried undertone to his voice. He knew there was a reason that you called him crying and not your boyfriend, and as much as he wanted to know why that was, your safety was his top priority at that point. 

“Love, stay exactly where you are for me please, send me your location and I’ll be with you as soon as possible okay? I need to make sure you're safe,” Heeseung stammered out the instructions to you. In limited words, you agreed and quickly sent him your address, not wanting to be alone for much longer in the bitter winds. You were met by the end dial tone; assuming that Heeseung had received your location, you took a seat on the bench on the sidewalk. 

After ten minutes of waiting, you heard a couple voices shouting out for you in the pitch black of the night, it wasn’t until they got a little closer that you recognised the voices of Heeseung, Jake and Sunghoon calling out to find where you were. You shouted out their names, and the three of them ran straight over to you from different directions. As he arrived, Heeseung wrapped you tight into his chest, resting his head on top of yours. 

“Hey love, why are we crying? And, why are we in the middle of the streets when you have your own apartment, silly?” He asked whilst chuckling lightly. You could see over his shoulder Jake and Sunghoon bickering over something stupid, probably who found you or who got to you first out of them. Seeing the pair of them made you let out a little giggle, which in turn, caused Heeseung to turn around and see them. “Really boys, for god’s sake!” 

Heeseung dragged you back over to the bench that you sat on whilst waiting for the boys to come and again asked you what had happened. “Nicho and I, we had a massive argument when he got home today. Like we both were screaming at each other over stupid stuff, but I just couldn’t stay there in case I took it too far. Like I get that he’d had a really tough day at practice but at the same time I had an awful day at work, and he just had to pick an argument with me, all because I’d had a nap on the couch instead of doing some housework, and preparing dinner like I’d told him, I would,” you rambled to the boys about everything that had happened and why you walked out on Nicholas and left him in your apartment. 

In your peripheral vision, you saw Jake pull his phone out from his pocket upon hearing what had happened, but thought nothing of it. Maybe he was just telling the other boys where they were, or maybe he was telling Nicholas or Euijoo that you were safe, and with them. You owed your life to the three boys who sat with you, who endured the bitter winds in the pitch black streets just to make sure you were safe and calm. The boys meant so much to you, in ways they would never understand. 

After a few moments of silence, you heard another couple of voices shouting out for you, seemingly coming from the total opposite direction to where the three boys sitting with you had come from. The two voices you could hear were quickly recognised by your brain, as that of your boyfriend Nicholas, and his best friend Euijoo. You guessed that Nicholas had called Euijoo telling him exactly what happened and how he had messed up, big time, and that Euijoo had offered to help him find you before it got too late or you got sick. 

Euijoo reached you before Nicholas, and wrapped you in a tight hug similar to that of Heeseung when he first found you. Over the shoulder of Euijoo however, you could see your ever so loving boyfriend Nicholas, his cheeks glimmering slightly under the streetlights as he hung back away from you all. It was evident that he was crying, and the way he hung his head showed just how much he regretted the events of the night. You lightly tapped Euijoo on the back as a signal to release you from the hug he held you in, and headed over to Nicholas. As you reached where he stood, he must have seen your shadow on the ground as he slowly lifted his head up, eyes stained red and swollen, a clear indicator that the emotional distress was shared between the pair of you. You slowly lifted your hand up to rest on his cheek, as he looked at you through his sticky wet eyelashes, wiping away the painful tears that slipped out. 

A moment of silence was shared between the two of you, before Nicholas pulled you close into his unyielding grip, not letting you go, as he rested his head on the top of your shoulder, exhausted. The whimpers in your ear heartbreaking as you recognised just how much pain he was in, your hand reached up to rest on the back of his head stroking it as a sign of silent reassurance that everything was fine.  

“Qin qin, everything’s okay darling. I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you early, it was out of line and I’m really really sorry. I love you, please never forget that,” you murmured an apology out to the love of your life, feeling utterly guilty about everything.

“Bao bei, please never apologise for something like this. I was the one who was in the wrong, I am so ashamed of how I spoke to you earlier today, and for not taking into consideration everything you do for me on a day to day basis. Please forgive me, I know it's not an excuse but everything just went awful for me today and I just missed your food so much that I…” You cut Nicholas off, by trying to pull his head up from your shoulder, him giving you a look of confusion before trying to continue his apology. “I just…” You smashed your lips against his, maybe it was a little rough at first, but it was overflowing with both positive, and negative emotions which seemed to dissipate just as the anger and upset of the night had. 

It was almost like a mutual promise between the both of you to forgive and forget the events of the night.

status: open 

@bambisgirl @enhacolor @acaiasahi @duolingofanaccount @slytherinshua @redm4ri @enluv @jaelaxies

[mask-of-prime]

Summary of Art - 2024

Art was less frequent than anticipated, but there were a few very popular pieces.

I didn't think I would ever get to this point in my time on DeviantArt, but I made the Daily Deviation on the piece I made in September, called "The Sun Will Set on My Time, Here.", made in memory of James Earl Jones.

I really should've posted something in May, whether it be something quick, or even something already made. Not sure if old art posted way after it's made would exactly count as accurate art progression according to the labeled month, but still.

I did make a few art resolutions I made in 2023 come true, such as:

Posting more than just sketches in front of gray backdrops.

Managed to post more than one thing per month.

Posting older, already-made work.

Introducing my TLK/Zootopia crossover AU.

There is a post I will be making shortly to announce ongoing and future projects for 2025. Stay Tuned!

....

As for the year, itself, I haven't felt this sensation for the longest time, but I actually find myself having a little trouble saying goodbye to 2024. It was a very special year, as I'd graduated from a 3x-too-long tenure at community college, started university the following semester, and it had been a milestone year for TLK, which has been one of if not the longest kick I've been on.

I know New Year's and the calendar are ever-changing calculations of the Earth's revolution and that you wake up the next day on New Year's Day and you're still you, but it's what's written on documents and dates that plays into the anniversaries, celebrations, events, and maybe even peers' superstitions that give each year its own vibe and experience.

....

Template by CanineThistles on DeviantArt

Artwork featured in this image:

[itsme-thekeys]

Young Royals Fav Fest 2024

Prompt 36: Favorite Fanwork

Oh my, where do I even start? I'll start at the start: I know, I'm Your Masterpiece (and the whole series) by: pwdd1 this is the fanfic that started it all. The very first fanfiction I read in the Young Royals fandom (even though I hadn't even watched the show yet) I basically owe my life and first child to this fic. Young Royals has gotten me through so many tough times and this fanfiction is basically why I decided to watch the show (and the summary my friend gave me so I'd understand this fic better but that's not the point) This is truly one of my most favorite and meaningful fanfictions to me. So thank you, @pwdd1, for this amazing series.

You've begun to feel like home by Sour_candy. I almost wish I didn't get into this one while it was still a work in progress so then I wouldn't have to wait for the next updates!! I don't remember which chapter I joined in on, probably around 7, if I had to guess, but I have continued to read every chapter when it's updated since then! I love slow burn, and my god is this slow burn. But I love it none the less. I never want this to end. Like, ever. I don't know what I'll do when it inevitably reaches its end. Probably reread it! 😜 @s0urcandy112112321

Okay now my three fav fanfictions I've contributed to this fandom.

Some Dreams Shouldn't Come True by me. It's one of my most popular fanfictions, and by good reason I think. Summary: Wille has a bad dream and Simon comforts him. So yeah, pretty cute.

Keys Are Good, Bugs Are Not by me. This one's just a silly little fanfiction with no real angst (except that Simon's definitely in despair for like half of it). Probably the most light-hearted thing I've written. Also one of my most popular (probably because no one died). Summary: Basically Simon gets locked out of the house by a scary bug and Wille is a little shit (affectionately)

Pretend I'm Something Other Than This Mess That I Am by me. At the time I wrote this, it was one of my longest fanfictions that I had wrote. I worked on it on and off for a month or two until I eventually finished it. This is probably the fanfiction I'm most proud of. It's definitely a very heavy story so if that's not your jam then probably don't read it. Summary: Wille has mental health issues ™️

@youngroyals-events

[thatstheproblemwithnapkinman]

new fic time

you can read it below the cut here on tumblr or over on ao3

I'm Stuck in this Life, and I'm Stuck in these Pants

Rating:

Not Rated

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

Gen

Fandoms:

Batman - All Media Types

Justice League - All Media Types

Relationship:

Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne

Characters:

Bruce Wayne

Dick Grayson

Clark Kent

Justice League (DCU)

Additional Tags:

Emotional Hurt/Comfort

its crack and hurt/comfort so have fun with that

enjoy the whiplash

no beta we die like jason todd

Dick Grayson Needs a Hug

Dick Grayson Gets a Hug

Dick Grayson joins the Justice League

Hurt Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson Has Eldest Daughter Syndrome

Probably ooc

Bruce Wayne is Trying to be a Good Dad

One Shot

Language: English

Summary:

"Do you want me to join the League?" The League would assume it was an open question, but Bruce knew it was directed at him. This moment was in complete contrast to years of conversations about protecting their identities and keeping their former partnership a secret. He needed to speak up.

"You are one of the best, you deserve the right to choose." He responded, consciously keeping his voice in Batman mode.

aka Dick get chosen to join the League but before he does he has to face his inner demons

Notes:

this started as a crack fic and became hurt/comfort so be aware, it's also the longest single chapter work i have every written at 6082 which is short for some people but me and my adhd tried no beta reader obviously so any mistakes are there for good now. i did a sweep but again, it's tagged and i've warned you so no telling me i spelt something wrong or used the wrong version of there ok *points at you*

Bruce had been working with the Justice League for over a decade, taking solo heroes and turning them into a team. They knew each other's strengths and weaknesses and can bounce off of one another during combat. It took time but they truly were a single unit. He's proud of what they have accomplished.

The rest of the League weren't on the same page. Sure, they all worked well together, but then there's Batman. He kept to himself, was never on the watchtower when he wasn't needed, constantly avoided talking about himself, and looked like he hated being with them. After years of working together, everyone had revealed their identities, some by choice, some accidental. Everyone but Batman. No one in the League knew who he was. They knew very little about him, other than that he's completely human (probably) and that he's from gotham. He doesn't even let them in his city, with strict rules about them working there. something about "human rogues" and "dangerous for supers". They disagreed with the rule, but without explicit permission from him, they couldn't enter. And no one was about to argue with him.

The time had come to propose new members for the League. Everyone was allowed to submit up to one person to join, and unless there were any serious objections, they would put it to a vote and the person with the most votes would join the League, provided they wanted to of course. But no one had ever turned down their offer before, who would refuse to join the Justice League?

The majority of the League didn't put anyone forward. Barry had suggested Wally, not as a new member but as his replacement given he was looking to retire from the hero game, and given that Wally had left the Titans recently, was available. Batman had said that would be discussed separately at a second meeting as replacements were a different conversation. No one had spoken otherwise, until the nominations got around to Superman.

"I do have a nomination this year. I've worked with this person a lot and I believe they would be an excellent addition to the League. They have been in the game for almost 10 years and protect an entire city on their own. He truly is one of the best."

A chill went down his spine and Bruce suppressed a shudder. That could apply to multiple people, a lot of heroes have been around for a while. But very few were responsible for a city, and there was only one person he knew that was close with Superman.

“I nominate Nightwing for the League."

Honestly, he was surprised it took this long for Dick to get nominated. He was one of the most capable heroes out there, having worked alongside the League before as both an independent hero and as the leader of the Titans. He worked well with others, as Bruce would know given he was Robin for a decade. He trusted no one more in the world. Batman fought well with the League, but he was constantly thinking about how to work with their moves. watching himself and others, predicting what they would do so he could make sure he wasn't interfered with. But with Nightwing he could just fight. They knew exactly how the other would move, and on instinct could follow through. He knew they would both protect each other.

"...Batman?" Superman broke him out of thought

"Hn"

"Do you object?"

Having him on the team would mean he wasn't alone. He had someone there that immediately understood his plan and was much better at communicating with the others. He would be a bridge, a bridge that provided support for everyone. Bruce would also have an excuse to work with him more. He did sometimes miss the conversations they would have in the field, the snarky jabs at rouges, the smile on his face whenever he managed to make Bruce laugh.

But having Dick on the team put them at risk. It wouldn't be too hard for the League to figure out that they knew each other. They could dig and find a connection to Gotham and then to everyone else. Maybe something he'd say would cause a memory to resurface for one of them, a memory of Batman during the time when Dick wore the cowl, and they could see that Nightwing happened to disappear during that time. It was too risky.

He opened his mouth to object, but no sound came out. Dick had taught him a lot, one of which was to trust him. Dick was his own hero now, and he could weigh up the decision. He deserved the chance.

"No."

"Ok then, as no one else was nominated, that negates voting. Batman, could you give him watchtower access and request him?"

Trying to figure out how he could manage this, he got up and moved over to the console on the side. Dick had watchtower access, they all did, but he went through the process of giving it anyway, all it did was throw you a message saying they already had it, which Bruce dismissed. That was the easy part. bracing himself, he tuned into the comms.

"Oracle."

"What's up batman?" Babs always cloaked her voice, even on the bat exclusive channels, but he could still make out her speech pattern and a sliver of her accent.

"I need you to relay to Nightwing that he is requested in the watchtower."

"Y- yeah." The surprise wasn't hidden at all. "Everything ok? Do you need me to send it to anyone else?"

"No."

"Right, I'll let him know." Static on the line told Bruce that Dick was in the same room and they were discussing it. He was in Gotham that night, helping out while Bruce was with the League, and must have stopped into the watchtower. "Yeah, ok, he's on his way now."

Bruce hung up. He felt bad not thanking her but he had an image to uphold. The League all thought oracle was an AI program, and it would be weird. Not for someone like Clark, who would thank automatic doors half the time. But Batman? People would be worried.

He'd barely made it back to the table when the zeta-tube whirred to life.

"Entering, Nightwing, B-01"

"Wait, hold up, there's a B?"

"I know he isn't Titan anymore but weren't they T?"

"That was really fast, like he was expecting it..."

Bruce tuned them out and turned to face his former partner, now only a few feet away.

"So... why exactly was I requested?"

Complete confidence in his voice. If Bruce didn't know him, he would assume he was comfortable. But he could see the minor tension held in his chest, the way he rubbed his thumb along the side of his index finger, how his footsteps were almost silent to not disturb. Dick was confused, curious, and concerned.

Superman stood up. "We held nominations for a new member, and your name was put forward. We deliberated and would like to extend an invitation to join the League."

Dick stood there. He was completely still and looked in shock, and was staring directly at Bruce. They could see each other's eyes behind their dominoes thanks to the lenses in them, so he could see Dicks locked onto him, narrowed as if to ask 'what the hell is going on?'. If he hadn't opened his mouth, Bruce would've walked over to check on him.

"Do you want me to join the League?" The League would assume it was an open question, but Bruce knew it was directed at him. This moment was in complete contrast to years of conversations about protecting their identities and keeping their former partnership a secret. He needed to speak up.

"You are one of the best, you deserve the right to choose." He responded, consciously keeping his voice in Batman mode.

He was so proud of what Dick had become. He'd outgrown Robin, had gone far beyond what Batman could be, and had truly become the best. No matter how much he tries, it's hard to keep the affection he had out of his tone.

Dick noticed, and softened his posture. He started towards him and Bruce felt the League tense behind him. Normally he wouldn't allow anyone that close without reason, yet to them, here he was, letting this almost stranger into his personal space. Ignoring them, his eyes remained locked onto Dick until he was alongside him, forcing Bruce to turn around and face the League.

Every set of eyes was on him as Nightwing clapped him on the shoulder. The last person who'd tried anything like that had ended up with a batarang in their hand. Batman wasn't a people person and that was to be respected. The rest of the League tensed, prepared for bloodshed that would never come.

"Well, if Big Batsy over here gave me the stamp of approval, I would be insane to reject it immediately, although I am going to need some time to consider."

The majority of the room looked shell shocked as Bruce took his seat and Dick shuffled to stand behind him, resting his arms on Bruce's shoulders.

"I mean, this is a very big decision and I would at least like to discuss it with my team."

Flash spoke up. "But I thought you left the Titans? Wally said it was something about trust issues."

Dick snorted.

"Wally’s right, the endless debates about identities and how valuable they can be started to get on my nerves. If you must know, we disagreed on if I can be truly trusted without revealing my identity, so I chose to leave, along with Wally and Donna. With B over here, I assume you don't share their sentiments." He tugged on the bat ears as he spoke, a gesture he'd been doing since he was Robin, and something they both found comfort in.

The League was still in shock over how Batman was letting someone be near him, let alone play with his cowl. Bruce should've stopped him, kept up the act, but he was tired and he was happy Dick was this comfortable around him, after all the time they spent at a distance.

He sensed the rouse of working alone was coming to an end

Dick was having too much fun.

Sure, he was honoured for the invite, but messing with Bruce in front of the League was an opportunity he couldn't pass up. Of course, he wouldn't jeopardise their identities, but just getting to poke the bear would bring him so much joy. Making the Justice League lose their minds watching this random hero from Blüdhaven get close and personal with Batman and walking away unscathed was the highlight of the year, and it was clear Bruce was also enjoying it.

Well, he was tolerating it, which meant he found comfort in it and didn't growl at him.

He'd take it, after all the years they spent at each other's throats. Dick's later teenage years as both Robin and Nightwing hadn't been the most pleasant. He was a teenaged boy who'd spent every day at school and then came home to be ordered around. He needed his freedom and he'd gotten it, albeit by less than peaceful means. But after he came to terms with being fired, and had recovered from Jason's death, he'd started mending their relationship, and now they were closer than they'd ever been. So he was absolutely going to stand too close to Batman and put the League on edge.

It was even funnier given he'd met most of them before, back when he was Batman. Not that they'd know it, he made an excellent brooding, works alone, Dark Knight Batman. Even as he actively worked with Damian, Tim, Steph, and Babs. But he'd kept up the mythos, kept everything in the dark, and had seamlessly given the mantle back to Bruce once he was ready. As far as the League was concerned, he'd never been here before and was no different than the other ex-Titans.

At least, he hoped that. A hope that was crushed when Hal Jordan opened his mouth.

"Ok, but explain why you have the code B-01 for the zeta tube? The Titans were under T, and as far as I am aware, no one was under B."

This is where the real fun begins.

"Yeah, I've asked B the same thing, but he said it was due to clearance issues, that T had restrictions and I needed to be separate from that. I'm honestly surprised he didn't just throw me in with you guys, make me like 3-6 or something, but he's paranoid and didn't want to risk anyone finding it so..."

This seemed to confuse him more.

"What kind of clearance?"

Dick walked around the side to lean against Bruce, folding his arms and crossing his right leg behind his left.

"Oh, y'know, being able to use the Gotham tubes."

He feigned innocence, knowing the storm that would erupt from those few words. And indeed it did, as shouts echoed around the room in disbelief that someone other than Batman can enter Gotham.

After a few minutes of this, Dick saw something click in Superman's head. Dick had worked with Clark a lot, and had been inspired to take the name Nightwing from him. Clark was the only member of the League that knew Batman had a Robin, although he'd never personally met anyone besides Dick and probably assumed Batman worked alone now. He also knew Clark hadn't pieced together that Nightwing was that Robin, which was surprising given he took his name from a Kryptonian myth that Clark had told him once. But we see what we want to see and as far as everyone was concerned up until this moment, Batman and Nightwing didn't know each other.

But Clark had seen it. He'd seen Robin tug on Batman's cowl. He'd seen how Robin was the only one Batman allowed to get near him. He'd seen Robin's eyes light up telling him the story of Nightwing and Flamebird. Nightwing was Robin. An older, stronger, all-round better fighter and strategist, but still the same little shit he'd always been. The Man of Steel had finally figured it out.

"Robin?"

Silence fell and everyone turned to face Superman.

"Who?" Barry tilted his head like a dog, a move that almost caused Dick to snort at.

"You know, Robin. Batman and Robin? He used to have a 12 year old kid dressed like a traffic light follow him around everywhere..?"

Nothing.

"Wait, did no one else meet Robin?" all eyes remained locked onto him.

Breaking the silence, Diana, who had been quietly watching this unfold, made her way over and stood next to Batman with tension throughout her body.

"Batman-"

"Hold up, Nightwing still hasn't explained anything, like how he can enter Gotham, and who is this team he has if he isn't a Titan anymore?" 

Dick unfolded his arms and placed his hand on Bruce’s shoulder. He gave a subtle squeeze, asking if he could explain. After a second, Bruce shrugged, the signal for yes.

"When I was 9, B took me in and trained me. He taught me how to fight, but he also showed me how to be a detective. Once he knew I could handle myself and be an asset, he let me go out with him. I chose the name Robin and to wear bright colours. We worked together for a decade before I outgrew being his sidekick and became Nightwing, operating solo in Blüdhaven or with the Titans."

"I thought Robin died..." Superman looked straight at Dick, locking eyes with him as if his mask wasn’t there.

This startled the two of them. Maybe Clark knew more than they thought. Bruce shifted under his hand, letting him know he was there. This was still a tough subject for them both, given how their current standing with Jason was. 

“Well, I’m clearly not dead so… Don’t know what to tell you, Supes.”

Clark furrowed his brows and looked down. The journalist was clearly unsatisfied with that response yet chose to let it go. The rest of the League shuffled around, obviously uncomfortable with the latest development. Dick took that as his cue.

“Welp, with that revelation I shall leave and ponder your offer. Good morrow fair Justice League.” Tipping his head into an incredibly dramatic bow and sweeping his arms out, he turned on his heel and headed for the Zeta Tube. He’d had his fun but the mention of Jason had brought him back to reality and he wanted to leave. A nice, long, warm shower awaited him at home.

Pondering was hard. Dick discovered this as he sat in his shower, the water falling on his face. After making his way back to his apartment in Blüdhaven, he’d climbed out of his suit and straight into the shower as his thoughts finally hit him.

Holy shit, he’d been invited to join the League.

He knew he’d been a vigilante for longer than most of the members, save for Batman, Superman, and Captain Marvel. But that still didn’t diminish that fact he was chosen to join THE superhero team. 

Dick loved being on a team. He was a leader by nature but he also liked bouncing ideas between people. He knew he wouldn’t be in a leadership position but he wouldn’t be seen as less. He would be an equal and that was all he needed. Besides, he would be working with Bruce, someone that knew his abilities and just how useful he could be. 

“Oh. Ok, that need for approval will be promptly filed away in the ‘things to bring up in therapy’ folder,” he mumbled to himself. He’d been working on his people pleasing tendencies and desperate need to prove himself and be more, yet clearly not enough. Wally called it his ‘eldest daughter syndrome’ and he couldn’t really disagree. He did put the weight of the world on his shoulders sometimes. But this was why he needed a team, people who he could rely on when needed. People who could help remove some of that weight. People he could trust. The trust issues that came with being a bat never really go away, huh.

He stood up, turning the shower off, and wrapped himself in a towel. There was no point in thinking about it any further. His answer was obvious. He opened the bathroom door and made his way into the main room, where Batman was waiting for him.

“You are so lucky I put a towel on.”

Bruce grunted. Dick rolled his eyes in response.

“Seriously, I could’ve walked out with nothing on and that would have been traumatising to both of us. Imagine me having to explain to everyone why you can’t look at me, how embarrassing that would be.”

“Hn. I came to congratulate you.” Dick couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto his lips at that.

“Thanks B. I'm still a little shocked if I’m being honest. I know I’m not an unknown vigilante, but not only being noticed, but getting nominated and accepted is a big deal.”

Bruce stepped closer, pulling his cowl down and placing his hand on Dick’s shoulder. Dick looked down at the ground, sheepish in the face of actual affection.

“Dick, you have been doing this for longer than almost everyone. You’ve helped save the world countless times and been a beacon of light and hope. Not only to the rest of the world but to me too.”

His head snapped up and he met Bruce’s eyes. After a second it was Bruce that looked down at the floor.

“I know I haven’t always been the best, firing you and acting the way I did after Jason… But you have made me proud, Dick, never forget that.”

Almost without thinking, Dick wrapped his arms around Bruce. Since he’d become Nightwing, they hadn’t been very affectionate with each other. They never really were but when he lived at the manor, when he was Robin, he would find comfort in Bruce’s arms after a bad night on patrol or after he woke from a nightmare. This was one of the few moments of vulnerability they shared and Dick knew to let himself fall into it. He felt pressure on his back, and he was enveloped in the embrace. He didn’t want to let go but knew Bruce wouldn’t if he kept hold. He almost didn’t, wanting to keep this moment going, but Batman had important work to do tonight. Gotham wouldn’t stay quiet for long. 

As if the powers of the universe were listening, beeping echoed from the cowl and the two separated. Bruce grabbed the comm and listened to whatever was going down, before turning to Dick.

“Don’t feel like you must rush this. I trust your judgement and know whatever you decide will be the right choice.” He moved back towards Dick before hesitating. Dick wasn’t sure what he wanted, but after a few seconds, he found his hair being ruffled. Just like when he was Robin. 

The pressure left and with a breeze, Batman was gone. Dick debated throwing his suit on and going to help, but he’d had a long day and needed the sleep. He would catch up with Bruce in the morning, after filing ‘Wanting the feelings he had as Robin’ to his therapy list.

“Has he decided yet?”

Bruce was glad his eyes were covered, otherwise the Flash would’ve seen a very un-Batman-like eyeroll. Wally was settling into the team well after Barry departed a few days prior, but he was clearly impatiently waiting for his best friend to arrive. That is, if Dick chose to join the team at all. It had been a week with no hint of a choice. Bruce didn’t want to push him, this was a big decision, but he also wanted to get the rest of the League to stop asking him. It was as if they were children, poking him and asking ‘are we there yet?’

“He has not, and I will not push him for a response.”

“But he said he would think about it, surely a week is long enough.” Wally paced back and forth as if he was trying to solve a complex math problem. 

“I am aware of that, but it is a big decision.”

“UGH I’m gonna call him, see if I can get him to choose.” He sped over to the tubes, punching in the coordinates for what Bruce assumed was Central City. 

“Recognised, Flash, 0-7.”

“Stupid tower and it’s lack of phone signal. How hard is it to install cell service up here…” His voice fading away as he travelled off the tower, finally giving Bruce room to breathe.

It was his turn for monitor duty, which he was supposed to do with Green Arrow, but had let Oliver off for the night, due to a gala he needed to attend. He himself was supposed to be there but unfortunately Bruce Wayne had come down with a nasty case of the flu and so wouldn’t be attending. The was partly true, Bruce had caught the flu and was suffering because of it, but no one would notice if Batman was quieter than usual. 

The silence he was enjoying was promptly broken by the Zeta Tube announcing the arrival of Clark.

“Entering, Superman, 0-1”

“Hey Batman, how’s the case going?” “Hn.”

“Good good. Don’t worry, I’m just here to pick up something before heading back to work. You’ll be left to your silence again soon.”

Bruce turned back to his files as Clark moved around the Watchtower. Of course, he wasn’t working on the file, but rather keeping track of where Clark was in the room. He was awful at keeping his emotions off his face, and Bruce knew he wanted something. No doubt it was Zeta access to Gotham for the night. Clark was covering the gala for the Planet and even with his speed, it would be quicker to go straight there instead of via Metropolis. He knew Clark was getting closer to him as he moved around, and finally, when he gathered the courage to stand right behind Bruce, did he turn around to face him.

“What do you want, Kal?”

“Well, I wanted to ask if I could have access to the Gotham tubes, just for tonight while I’m working there.” “You can just fly across the bay from Metropolis.”

“I- Yes I can but I would rather no one know Superman was around Gotham, and I believe you do too.”

Bruce sighed, his patented ‘Tired Dad Batman’ sigh as Dick labelled it after he managed to elicit the sigh on many occasions. Clark was right, he definitely didn’t want anyone thinking Superman was operating in Gotham on a night where Batman wasn’t. It would send the wrong impression and risk the exposure of the other Bats. 

“Hn. Fine. You can have one time access to the Tube nearest the Museum.” Bruce got up and made his way to the console.

“Oh, wow, err, thanks.” Clark stammered out as he followed. He started to put in the access code and was almost done when the tube roared into life, the screen showing the connection coming from the Batcave.  Both men turned to face the tube as a human outline started to appear. Bruce let a small smile creep onto his face as the announcement was made.

“Entering, Nightwing, 3-6.”

Dick stepped through onto the Watchtower and was immediately greeted by Bruce and Clark. He threw his iconic grin onto his face and threw his arms out

“Whoops, didn’t realise you guys were using the tube. Sorry about that.”

Clark tilted his head slightly, as Barry had when he’d been invited. Guess it was a midwestern thing. Bruce, however, just turned back to the console as he spoke.

“I see you had Oracle reassign you.” “I figured you were busy.”

“Yes.”

Dick snorted and made his way past Clark, who followed him with his eyes.

“Wait, Nightwing?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you number 3-6? We don’t have that many members so you should be a lower designation.”

Dick kept the smile on his face. 

“Inside joke, and when Oracle is the one giving me access, I couldn’t not ask.”

Clark looked as if he wanted to pry deeper, but that was cut off by Bruce.

“Superman, you will arrive about three blocks from the museum. I assume you can find your way from there.”

Clark turned back to the tube and nodded. 

“Recognised, Superman, 0-1.”

Then he was gone.

Dick turned to Bruce, and was met with a smile.

“Wally just left. He went to call you.”

“Oh, well I guess I’ll just call him back later. I didn’t come to see him.” Dick shrugged.

“Did you need something, or did you just want to test your new designation?”

“Ha, both. But I knew you were up here and working on the Fear Toxin case and came to offer help. That and tell you my decision. I figured it was pretty obvious I would accept.”

“I wasn’t so sure.” Dick frowned at Bruce. “You’ve just left your team, one you lead, to join one with people that don’t exactly trust you.”

“Hey, they don’t trust you either. Now there’s two of us.” Dick tried to deflect but after almost 20 years, Bruce knew to ignore this.

“I was unsure if you’d want to join a team so soon, let alone one where people already are weary of you. My reputation is something I’ve built but now people know you and I have been working together for a long time. The tension has been higher in the past week. I’m yet to be called out, though I suspect people will attempt to gather information from you on the incorrect assumption that would be easier. I wanted to leave the decision to you, but was tempted to inform you of how it has been in case that would change your mind. I don’t regret offering you a place on the team. If I’m being transparent, I would enjoy having you here, someone I can trust without any hesitation. But I want you to make sure it’s right.”

Dick inhaled sharply. Bruce had thought about this, and was actually being open with him. Since their meeting in his apartment, Dick had thought about it a lot. He’d jumped between joining and not, missing being part of a team but worried about how it would affect him and Bruce. When Wally had told him he’d be replacing Barry as the Flash, including joining the League, Dick had the only serious doubt about it. Not because he didn’t want to be on a team with Wally, he was his best friend. He just didn’t want it becoming another Titans debacle, where he was incredibly close to Wally and Donna, but everyone else questioned him because he hadn’t revealed his identity. 

That hurt. Being a bat meant wearing a mask and protecting your identity for the sake of everyone else. If even one of them was unmasked, it wouldn’t be too hard to figure out the rest. So he never did. He couldn’t risk any of them. He couldn’t risk his family. And in protecting one, he lost another. The Titans slowly withdrew from him, getting more and more combative, and it resulted in a disaster of a mission.

What should’ve been a simple rescue after an earthquake ended up with Dick having to call in Superman to help. His plan had been solid but everyone other than Donna and Wally had abandoned it in a sort of coup. What they hadn’t planned, however, was exactly how the building they were operating around would collapse. Dick had studied the building’s structural integrity using blueprints and footage of the earthquake, and had constructed his plan to evacuate at the right speed and in the right order to minimise extra strain on the weakened foundations. This required to start from the central part of each floor and work outwards, maintaining the balance of the building. This ensured it wouldn’t crumble under the weight down one side. He’d been in the process of explaining this when the team had run off and started rescuing whoever they could access first, which altered the building’s centre of gravity as they shifted piles of rubble, and caused a complete collapse. 

Dick had called Clark immediately, a vulnerable moment where he’d screamed for Superman out of pure fear, who’d helped in recovering the bodies of those that didn’t make it, and after arriving back at Titans Tower, Dick had packed up his stuff and left. He’d dropped his bag at his apartment before going out on his bike. He hadn’t paid attention to where he was driving and the next thing he knew, he was outside the gates to the Manor. Driven there on instinct. He hadn’t gone in, just sat outside for longer than he should’ve, before driving back to Blüdhaven and beating the shit out of some corrupt cops, something that was incredibly cathartic. But part of him regretted not going up to the door and asking if he could stay a while. He missed having people around, and being alone in his apartment didn’t help with his thoughts. He knew it wasn’t his fault the team didn’t listen to him. He did everything he could. But people had died on his watch, and he’d called for help instead of handling it by himself. He was a leader and he’d let everybody down. 

A cough brought him back and he looked up to see Bruce had made his way over and placed his hand on Dicks shoulder. He’d missed it during his spiral, and Bruce had noticed. He could see his eyes through the cowl, new lenses that polarised for each other but no one else, and they were full of concern. Dick hadn’t spiralled like that in front of Bruce for a while and it was clear he was worried.

“I- I’m just thinking about the last mission I had with the Titans. Maybe it was time for me to leave leading behind me.”

“Dick,” Bruce brushed the hair that had fallen onto his face behind his ear. “We can’t always win. Sometimes we try our hardest and we lose. But we have to move on. I know this is hypocritical coming from me, but that’s why we have each other. Me, you, Robin, the Batgirls, everyone else. I know how much it hurts, I know the pain and anger and fear you feel inside. I felt it when you got shot, I felt it when Jason died, and I feel it every time one of you gets injured. But we are there to support each other and keep ourselves from getting lost in that pain. You taught me that. So I’m here to support you, and anyone else here will say the same thing.”

He coughed back his tears. Bruce knew what he was doing but made no move to get closer. That would be on Dicks terms.

“I want to be in the League, but I’m scared of messing up again.”

“You didn’t mess up. Clark told me what happened, how your team ignored your plan and acted in a way that caused the collapse. You then called for help when you knew you couldn’t do anything more. That’s why we are here, to help when needed.” Bruce sighed, but this time it wasn’t out of annoyance for Dick, but annoyance for myself. “I know I trained you to be the best. I know you put so much pressure on yourself to save everyone. To be there for everyone. And I know that is my fault. But you are not capable of saving everyone. No one is. Not me, not Wonder Woman, and not even Superman. That’s why the League has so many members with different strengths. Our strengths fill holes in others weaknesses. You would do that. You’re a natural leader who sees the best in everyone. You have an ability to light up the space and make people feel comfortable. You are one of the smartest people on the planet and could take over the world if you tried. Which, please don’t try to take over the world.”

Dick let out a sob as he laughed.

“I don’t plan on it yet, but if I do I’ll make sure to give you a few minutes' notice before I begin.”

Both men let themselves be vulnerable for a minute, holding each other and laughing. If the other Leaguers had been there, they would’ve lost it at the sight of Batman acting like… a person. The League probably believe all the rumours that Batman is a local cryptid, or maybe they prefer the vampire story. He’ll be able to find out, probably from people asking him about it.

Dick pulled himself back from Bruce and looked back up at him. They’d both been crying, but they both needed it. They’d both learned to be vulnerable sometimes, even if progress was slow. Bruce put his hand back onto Dicks shoulder, steadying himself. They moved apart and he straightened himself out.

“I’ll be okay, B. Besides, the moment someone else walks into the room, I’ll be all happy again.” 

“Dick.” Bruce tried to grumble but he could hear the compassion that lay underneath.

“Ugh, fine, I will deal with it, Mr Hypocritical.” 

Bruce smiled at that, knowing how this discussion would go if it continued. Dick knew it too, and soon they were standing next to each other, staring out the window at Earth.

He bumped Bruce, who bumped him back. It felt so calm, the two of them together. Not as Batman and Robin, but as Bruce and Dick. Father figure and first son. Two decades of fighting together, training together, learning together. He was going to have a lot of fun working with him again, this time as individuals. 

But more than that, he was looking forward to playing the League. He was ready to ruin them, to make them doubt themselves. He wanted to see how far he could go before Batman would step in, and knowing Bruce, it would be pretty far.

He was going to be ok.

Notes:

i hope you didn't hate that, it was a brain worm that bounced around in my head for weeks and i'm glad i was finally able to get it out oh, and the inside joke is that 3-6 is the date dick debuted in the comics, March 6th 1940, so for the non-us americans it would be 6-3 but they are american so... the title is a lyric from inertia by ajr, which i listened to whilst writing this (specifically the acoustic version) it's so good and can be found on youtube or spotify

[misguidedasgardian]

The White Dragon (43)

43. The Dragonpit

MASTERLIST

Summary: It was not finished yet 

Pairings: main Harwin Strong x Fem!Targaryen reader

Warnings: cursing, medieval and A song of ice and Fire AU customs, injury, burns, dragon fire, death, violence, armies, death, war and all that comes with it. Might miss some warnings but you know what this is about :) 

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3.4 k

Notes:  this story it's near its end, like three more chapter perhaps, it had been probably the longest story I have ever written jeje

It took a fortnight to gather the remains of the Harrenhal army and the towns around it, they all rally to your cause and you were preparing to take the capital

If you come to think about it, you didn’t even know how you reached this point 

A sweet maid who had been here for all of your children’s lives serving in the White Hall braided your hair beautifully, as you watched through the mirror the armor that stood hanging in a mold of your own body in the corner. 

These braids were different, they were made to keep your hair off your face, they were made for riding, either dragons or horses, two thick braids were created from the top of your head and then in the back, they crossed together and gathered the remains of your hair into a low ponytail. 

They were war braids

You smiled sweetly at her thanking her and she only nodded and left.

As she left, Harwin entered

Your husband

He hadn't said anything since your declaration and statement, when you said outloud the intention of claiming the Iron Throne.

He looked at the armor in the corner and sighed, he was also wearing the thick leather layer, the one you put on before the armor itself

“What?”, you asked softly, and when he looked at you, he saw the girl he married almost 20 years ago, wide eyed and filled with life, and a bit of innocence 

“Is this what you really want?”, he asked softly, he looked concerned for you

“We have no choice”, you whisper sadly 

“(Y/N)”, he called softly

“Not after everything we have been through”, you continued, “is this, or take everyone we care about and flee, and how real is that possibility?”

“Very real”

“You say we pack up our children and go?”, you continued, “Aemond… Sarra… Helaena… the Starks… they are our family too also”, you told him, “and with dragons, there is no palace where we can hide that they won’t find us, Aegon, Rhaenyra, she will want revenge for Daemon, Aegon wants us all dead anyways”

“We have his children, he won’t come for us”

“He will want them back, they are his future, his legacy”, you continued

“Then let’s… settle North, help Stark and be behind him and ask for independence…” 

“Harwin…”

“The Iron Throne is the most dangerous seat in the realm, you are placing a target on yourself, and in our children’s backs”

“I’m aware…”, you continued, “but that is the lesser of two evils…”

“What about Rhaenyra?”, he asked then, “are you prepared to take her out of the throne?”

You had thought about it, about what it would be like… would you have the strength to kill her? you didn’t think you did, it would be easier if she just… she could be expelled to Dragonstone, to live there in peace…

Uh, peace

what a strange concept 

Rhaenyra was not going to find peace

It was not a treat, it was just a random thought you had, like a gut feeling, like you could predict the future 

No matter how far you tried to look into the future, you couldn’t see your sister fitting in any of them, in any of the scenarios you had pictured in your head.

How strange

“I will know when we get there”, you said softly, “Rhaenyra never wanted this, I’m offering an out for her, to live the rest of her life with her remaining children, in Dragonstone or Driftmark”, Harwin only nodded

“What about Rhaenys and Corlys?”, you had thought about them too, the Sea Snake, even though weakened by the defeats against the triachy’s fleet, still posed a very intimidating threat 

“They are in Driftmark and from there they control the Gullet”, you whispered, “I don’t know how they are going to take this”

Rhaenys had pushed you once, she had suggested you were the one that should be the heir, and you prayed that was enough for her to stay out of the way

Perhaps you could name her or Corlys your hand

Even though Corlys was your sister’s hand

Fuck

It was too late to back down now, Cregan was waiting, the ravens had been sent, your family was preparing…

It was done 

“I will be there by your side, whatever you choose, every step of the way”, you smiled faintly

“As will we”, you look to the door to find your eldest children there, both of them, Rhaegar and Maekar, ready for the fight

“together”, you said firmly, forbidding your children, and Aemond from participating in taking the city would be useless, you barely convinced Aemond and Aemma to scout the seas by the west, to try and keep them away from the hand to hand conflict 

But you did

You marched to the capital, the Northerners waiting in the Kingswood, your small army behind you, your sons in their dragons, you couldn’t lose, you marched back together towards King’s Landing, decided to take the city, first, by talking, then, if that didn’t work…

You hoped that worked…

You were so focused, so distracted by your family and their wellbeing, that you would have never seen this coming…

As you marched up the hill, from where you could see King’s landing,  you started hearing noises, screams, you ran with Cregan and Harwin by your side, and what you saw from the heights made you gasp

You were not the first one to try and conquer the city

From there you could see burning building, heard soldiers fighting, and behind the walls a great army, bearing the banners of a golden dragon

Aegon

Aegon had come for his throne 

You had begged the gods that he would have escaped to Essos and he was drunk in a pleasure house somewhere, but apparently, he got a taste for power and wanted him back

“This changes nothing”, said Harwin

“This changes everything!”, you cried back 

“No, he is right”, muttered Cregan, “we fell down at the city, the mayhem will make it easier, Aegon might be down there, two birds, one stone, we could end the war today”, he muttered, “we back up the royal soldiers loyal to Rhaenyra”

“The people will suffer”, you whispered, “it brought war within the city walls”, and then you heard it, you saw, from here, that something was happening in the Dragonpit, people were gathering, and… a golden dragon circled the building and then landed right inside….

It wasn’t Syrax, it was bigger….

It was Sunfyre 

Then the decision was taken for you

“Let’s take the city”, you whispered

The gates of the walls surrounding the city were wide open, the city was submerged in chaos, 

The remaining of the traitors of The Vale, of House Royce you gathered, were not competition for the Northerners, you cleaned the streets from any rogue soldier.

You unsheathed your Valyrian Sword yourself, that Daemon once gifted you, as you advance throughout the outer streets of the city

It was mayhem, Stark soldiers, Royal soldiers who you didn’t even know who they were fighting for, men from the Vale… your escort of soldiers got thinner the more you entered the city streets, it reached a point where you even had to grab your sword and swing at a man that came at you. 

At that moment, as the adrenaline took a golf of your body, you didn’t even care if that was the first man you had killed hand to hand, as you were desperate to see Rhaenyra, because something was truly wrong

Rhaenyra stook barely defended, Daemon was dead, and you wondered if Aegon managed to get inside the castle, if he did, with all those soldiers and people within King's Landing that were still loyal to his cause…. Rhaenyra stood little chance

You needed to get to her

Maybe you wanted to depose her, but you didn’t want her dead

After all, she was your sister

It was childish to think that you could pull off taking the capital by force and she was going to be alright, but there was no more time to think about that 

It was too late, and for better or worse, Aegon had made that decision for you 

“I have to make way for the Dragonpit”, you informed the man by your side, and they understood 

But that is where the thick of the conflict was, you soon learned when you got stopped by groups of soldiers that wanted to stop everyone who went in that directions

It was chaos

Even people from King’s Landing had taken to the streets to fight, you weren’t sure if Rhaenyra’s reign, or Aegon’s conquest.

Either way, your now small group was being swamped by soldiers on all sides, that cornered you. 

You were side to side with Cregan and Harwin, your sons and other ten northerner soldiers were in your same group, as you put back to back to fight off the soldiers that seemed to come from all the streets to the intersection you were in

“We are trapped!” growled Harwin, as he took out a soldier that came too close

“The army is close behind us, they should be here any minute!”, growled Cregan

Your numbers were diminishing, as your territory, as the enemy soldiers with painted golden dragon in their chest shouted obscenities about delivering your head to Aegon Targaryen

You heard Maekar scream, you looked back for only a second to see that he had been cut by a soldier, you whined, but he stood standing, the blade barely grazing his side.

“Maekar!”, you called

“Hold your positions!”, screamed Cregan, as you were tightly surrounded 

There was a second, a whole moment, in which you could hear nothing but your own breaths, a deathly silence, as you were trapped without a possibility to fight your way through or scape 

“it’s over”, you whined 

The growl that shook the capital rivaled the one of hundreds of soldiers that came rushing into the street, you looked down the street as a huge group of Tyrell soldiers led by Steffon himself, attacked the men that surrounded you and attacked them on the rear, while your dragon flew above you, restless, the only thing that prevent her to burn everything to the ground was you

You took a long breath as Steffon opened up a way for you to feel relieved, as you kept slaying soldiers, enemies 

Now all the houses, their armies, everyone supporting a different King or Queen, everyone had come to a huge breaking point

“You have to go to the Pit!”, you heard Steffon scream, after finally clearing the way for you to go trough 

You grabbed Maekar, wanting to check his wound, it was not too deep, and Maekar, grabbed you back, promising you he was alright, you only had to look at Harwin once and he nodded, silently promising to keep your son safe. 

Something was happening in the Dragonpit, and you had to find out what.

Steffon led the way, with a small army behind him to clear the way, and you advanced with your family right behind you

The adrenaline held a tight grip on your body, but you still walk hastily towards what it looked like the goal, 

Soon the street ended and you came face to face to the long steps leading to the greatest building of the capital and perhaps Westeros

Soldiers fighting for their lives, and from different armies were scattered all over the stairs, fighting their own battles, the banners and the heavy guards suggested that Aegon was here, and you got scared of the reason behind it.

Inside the building you could hear the dragons growling, and even dead bodies of civilians were also scattered, hinting at you as a civil rebellion had taken place 

Your breathing quickened as the beating of your heart as you almost ran towards the huge gates, something was going on

Something terrible

Something heartbreaking

Tears fell down your cheeks as you ran, Cregan by your side

Vhaelar circling the skies over the huge building, uneasy, you could feel her distress as she felt yours 

It was the longest walk you had ever taken, and then, finally, the last guards had been stroked down before you, just to let you pass

“Whatever it is, you will have supporters behind you”, murmured Cregan right behind you, “I will gather the forces, put some order”, you only nodded.

Only when you entered the Pit, and hid under that huge your roof, your eyes were able to adapt to the darkness of the palace, leaving the sunny day behind you 

And you could

You wished you didn’t

The smell of burnt flesh hit your nostrils just as the flames were clearing a pile of something you didn’t recognize, perhaps you didn’t want to, denial hitting you faster that you wanted…

You gasped, tears falling from your eyes

The crown of Jahaerys was lying on the floor, just by…

The laugh of Aegon shook you to your core

“The old cunt is dead!”, he laughed you looked up to face him, a sickening smile on his face as your eyes returned to the burning rests of your sister

A curling scream left your lips that resounded all over the building 

Your sister was dead

“You missed the show!”, he continued, his body deformed and burned, as Rhaenys left him, but now, there was a madness in his eyes. Sunfyre was behind him, his mouth, its teeth, were red, his eyes were on you, and then, right behind you 

You heard a loud noise, and a low growl, as you felt Vhaelar entering the keep right behind you

It was just Aegon and you

Vhaelar against Sunfyre

“You are next”, Aegon mocked, pointing at you with the conqueror’s sword, but you barely reacted, you felt numb, you felt nothing, a void and then… the pit that had installed inside of you was filled with rage, a rage that burnt you so deeply, you saw red

Red

Blood

Fire

Fire and Blood

As if someone signaled for it, you grabbed your sword tightly in your hand and let out a screamed, as Vhaelar growled menacingly

Vhaelar knew it was Sunfyre that killed her baby, Aegon had killed Rhaenyra, they both needed to die as well 

Soldiers and lords were posted on the sides, but they didn’t dare to intervene.

The clash of swords ringed in your ears

You knew Aegon haven't practiced in years, neither did you, but he was slowed down by his injuries, and you were always quicker on your feet 

Flames flied over you as your dragons tried to bit each other, with brutality, a fight to the death

You were quicker than him, quicker than Aegon, rapidly overpowering him

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?”, he screamed towards the guard, “KILL THE BITCH!”, as he couldn’t win fair and square

Vhaelar was quicker, incinerating all the soldiers that dare came close to you both, and the rest of them decided to stand back, knowing they were now on the losing side 

“I’m going to take your head, and after you are gone, I’m going to claim your dragon, the fiercest dragon after Balerion”, you couldn’t help but laugh, rage overpowering 

“You could never claim her”, you mocked, “not in a hundred years”, you kicked him, the sword of Aegon the Conqueror flying from his hand, now he was defenseless 

Now, it was truly over 

Vhaelar managed to burn Sunfyre, just to distract him enough to wrap around his huge jaws over his head

With a last scream, the last thing you heard was a hunting sound, as thousand pieces of dry woods were being crushed

You looked up just to witness the light go out of Sunfyre’s eyes, Vhaelar used one of her claws, to separate her body from the head she still had between her jaws, successfully decapitating the most beautiful dragon the world had ever seen

But as she did, dark, boiling blood started pouring, right over you 

You closed your eyes and used your arms to protect yourself, as a thick rain of black blood fell all over you. Dragon’s blood ran hot, so hot it was said it could melt stone and iron, the thickness of it made you fall to your knees, while you thought the adrenaline was keeping you from feeling the heat…

Aegon wide-eyed, look at the remains of his beloved dragon Sunfyre, he then looked at you, who had been bathed in boiling black blood, his dragon’s blood, you were not going to survive that

His attention was drawn again to Vhaelar, who dropped the head of his dragon, making a wet sound ricochet all over the pit 

“Sõbes!”, he commanded, Vhaelar growled loudly to the ceiling, and then she looked down at him, with anger in her golden eyes. Blackness falling from her mouth, the color making the white of her scales looked devilish. Aegon lost his foot, now scared, he raised his hand to try and command the dragon, “Sõbes!”, he repeated, Vhaelar tilted her head looking at him in wonder. Aegon smiled wickedly, the great beast finally submitting, or that is what he thought

In a second Vhaelar opened her jaws and closed back, biting Aegon’s arm

Aegon screamed bloody murder, as Vhaelar growled, having him by the arm, she twisted and turned, raising Aegon’s body in the air, to then drop him on the ground, he cried and turned, but relieved that the dragon had released him, but only to finish him off

You managed to raise your head, only to see Aegon being engulfed by the flames of Vhaelar

You took a long breath as the smell of burned flesh reached your nostrils 

You didn’t even know how you were alive

The dragon blood was boiling, it should have burned your skin, melt the flesh off your bones, but it didn’t, you looked at your hands, your armor was hot, the leather wanted to melt as well, but your skin was untouched, only tainted with the black, thick liquid

You stood up

To everyone who looked at you, you looked demonic 

your silver strand was tainted, as your silver armor.

Your family, Harwin, Maekar, Rhaegar, Aemond and Aemma, Cregan, and all the Lords of the great families that were in the capital saw you.

Walking out of the pit, still black blood dripping from you, the sword of the conqueror in your hand, and the crown of Jahaerys in the other 

The conciliator, and the Conqueror

Both the greatest rules

You were covered in blood

Dragon blood

Smoke rose from behind you as the Lords looked at you wide eyed

Vhaelar appeared behind you, roaring loudly 

 Fire and Blood

Taglist!

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[eyelessfaces]

wine stain

llewyn davis x reader

hi I started writing this in october but never actually finished it and I thought it was kinda good when I reread it but I hated the plot so I changed it. anyways I hope you like it! also please note that this is my first time writing detailed smut in ages and I'm very insecure about it so please be indulgent :(

summary: life isn't fair to llewyn, but the man isn't quick to give up. an audition in chicago might change his life forever, and it does, but not the way he expected it to.

warnings: smut (minors dni!!), unprotected piv, oral sex, language (they swear a lot), alcohol consumption, smoking. mentions of pregnancy and abortion, one tiny joke about it. I am pro-choice and I don't want to offend anyone so if it bothers you just don't read this ffs.

tags: f!reader, friends to lovers, mutual pinning, llewyn is insecure asf and believes he doesn't deserve anything good, fucking oblivious idiots in love

word count: 5.7k (this is the longest thing I've ever written.)

Hot smoke escapes Llewyn’s cup of coffee, subtly mixing with the intoxicating smoke of the cigarette he holds between his fingers. You watch as the smoke goes up in the air, disappearing at the same level of his crumpled shirt collar. You desperately want to get up and fix it. You look away from it and sigh before talking.

“Spill the beans. I know this isn’t a casual cafe meeting. Or what Jean would call our ‘definitely not dates’ or whatever.” you say sinking into your chair, crossing your arms. “What do you want. Need. Same thing” you ask, watching him blow out his smoke as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“There’s no good answer is there?” he chuckles, licking his lips awkwardly when he sees that you’re not reacting to his poor attempt at a joke. “I need money.” he continues, lowering his voice. He leans forward and looks at you sternly. “Listen I hate asking you for this, but if I could do otherwise I wou-”

"Seriously? You’re still not getting anything?” you cut him off, raising an eyebrow.

His face relaxes, and he contorts it to a frown again.

“Believe me I’ve harassed Mel, it’s a miracle he’s not kicking me out. Only real money I get is from the gigs and saying it’s not enough is an understatement.” he huffs out, looking around the barely crowded cafe. “Please. I really need it. I’ll make it up to ya.” he pleads, looking back at you.

You roll your eyes when you think about the extra hours you’ll have to do to be able to pay your rent, but it’s Llewyn, and you care about him, so it’s…

 “...Fine.” 

Llewyn nods, weakly smiling at you.

“Thank you baby. Thank you” he nods fervently, thankful. “I would also need a place to crash at tonight…” he whispers with a sour face, knowing that it may be too much to ask you at once. 

You chuckle and give him a wave of your hand. “Whatever. But you’re taking me out once you have enough money” you say tilting your head forward, pointing at him.

“Sure thing.” he smiles. “Thank you dove.” 

You send him a quick smile before hiding it with your cup of coffee.

A thought occurs and you lick your lips in reflection as you put the cup down on its saucer.

“Abortion?” you ask abruptly, and he looks back at you with a startled face.

“What?”

“Is that why you need money? Again?” you clarify.

His confused face relaxes and he chuckles with a frown.

“It’s nice of you to assume I’m getting laid.” he chuckles, scratching the end of his cigarette in the ashtray.

You shrug. “I don’t know. You’re a hot talented musician after all” you say with a smirk, elbow planted on the table and chin resting on your palm. “Makes everyone faint”

He snorts. “Come on. Not when the hot talented musician is homeless and a dick” he pinches his lips in a skeptic smile.

“Yeah well that’s just you. And I don’t see anything wrong here” you smile, and Llewyn clears his throat.

“Well Jean told me it’d be a favor to people if I never fucked anyone ever again so I’m taking advice” he affirms, eyebrows raised as he brings his own cup of coffee to his mouth.

“Jean’s a bitch” you spit, crossing your arms and leaning back into your chair.

He chuckles and smiles.

“That’s no news.” he smiles. “Hum... The reason I need money is because I need to go to Chicago for an audition.”

“Chicago?” you ask, startled that he needs to go so far away.

“Yeah. Chicago.” he affirms, and looks through the window. It’s pouring and the wet road reflects the light of one small ray of sunshine passing through the clouds. 

“You’re fucking kidding me” you scoff. “Don’t tell me it’s an audition with that Bud Grossman guy” you sigh, slowly shaking your head.

Llewyn doesn’t answer and just looks back at you with a small pinched smile. You sigh. “When is it?”

“I’d need to leave tomorrow. It’s a pretty long ride” he affirms sinking in the back of his chair.

“No shit” you chuckle before taking another sip of your coffee. “It’s a whole ass trip.”

He nods and reaches for the pack of cigarettes on the table. You grab it before he can and he’s on the verge of calling you out for it but you speak before he can.

“You just finished smoking one. You smoke too much. Slow down.” you advise him putting down your cup of coffee, and he instantly rolls his eyes.

“Oh please.” he huffs. “Come on” he pleads, frowning.

You put the pack in your coat pocket and he sighs before laying further against the back of his chair.

His look darts to the window again. Few people are passing by and the rare ones that do are all protected by an umbrella and a raincoat. He’s just glad he’s crashing at your place tonight and not roaming around the whole city to look for a place to stay in this weather. 

“You’re gonna kill this.”

“Mh?” he asks absent-mindedly, still looking outside.

“Your audition. You’re so talented Llewyn. The trip is worth it” your words make him look back at you immediately, a small gap forming between his lips.

He wants to tell you that you don’t need to do that for him. That you don’t need to be so positive because he somehow always ends up fucking everything up. He really does. But at the same time he doesn’t think he’s ever felt his heart beat so fast.

“My first groupie!” he exclaims, unsure of how to respond wholeheartedly, instead using sarcasm as it’s what he does best. “Here it is.”

“Fuck you you asshole” you scoff, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Come on, I'm just messing with you” he scoffs. “Thank you for believing in me. You’re amazing” he nods and smiles. “You’re probably the only one that believes in me anyways.”

You weakly smile back at him. God you just wished this would work out for him. It’s all you ever wanted for him, truly.

“Can I get my cigarettes back now ?” he asks with a grin.

You roll your eyes and huff out a laugh before throwing the pack of cigarettes at him.

—

You gasp as you feel two arms wrap around your waist. You close your eyes with a sigh once your brain processes everything, and the corners of your mouth turn upwards.

“You scared me you moron. Nice shower?" you ask, still looking at the cooking pot in front of you.

Llewyn smiles as he nuzzles your hair.

“You have no idea. Probably the best shower I’ve had in ages” he affirms, his thumb caressing your clothed stomach. The gesture makes your heart skip a beat, but you quickly brush the thought off. You can’t think of him that way. “What you cookin’?” the question tears you out of your thoughts.

“Franks and beans. It’s a good thing you were able to come out of this bathroom, we’re eating soon.” you announce, stirring in the pot with the spatula.

“Awesome” he groans. “Thank you for letting me stay here tonight. The hell would I do without you” he sighs, and leans to quickly kiss your cheek.

You close your eyes and smile once again.

“Come on, go set the table. It’s ready soon” you affirm as you throw your chin towards the table. 

“‘kay chief” he throws as he opens the cabinet where you keep your plates.

You eat while drinking some wine and end the evening watching The Seventh Seal, your head quickly ending up resting over Llewyn’s shoulder. You can feel yourself drift off to sleep as the end credits appear, and get up from the couch before you actually pass out on it and on Llewyn.

“Imma head to bed” you mumble sleepily, grabbing one of your plaids to hand it to Llewyn. “Goodnight” you tiredly say as he takes the plaid before you turn around to leave for your bedroom.

“Hey. I’ll probably be gone by the morning.” he declares as he gets up from the couch, leaving the plaid hanging on the armrest. “So I’ll just say it now. Thank you for the money and the food.” he says as he walks up to you, hands buried in his slacks pockets. “And the couch, and for everything you’re doing for me in general. I really appreciate it. I love you.” 

You endearingly smile at him, reaching to gently stroke his wrist with your thumb.

“Good luck. I’ll be waiting for you. I love you”

—

When you come back home from work later than usual because of traffic three days later, Llewyn is curled up on your couch, asleep. 

Your apartment is bathed in darkness and you watch his sleeping figure as you take off your shoes and coat before walking to him, kneeling next to him by the couch.

You reach to turn on the lamp on the side table next to your couch, looking back at him and finally being able to see his peaceful state. You smile to yourself as soft snores escape his slightly agape mouth and his usual grumpy expression is long gone, and you kinda feel like a creep for watching him sleep but truthfully he looks like an angel and you feel bad for having to wake him up. 

You gently thread your fingers through his raven curls, softly calling his name, and he slowly opens his eyes, hazily sitting up and rubbing his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Fuck” he curses under his breath. “Shit I didn’t mean to fall asleep on your couch. Sorry”

“That’s okay” you reassure him, smoothing your hand along his forearm. “How was Chicago?” you ask him softly, and he suddenly chuckles and shakes his head.

“Shitty.” he declares. “Useless.”

The blank that fills the air in your apartment is overwhelming. You get up from your knees and sit next to him on the couch, propping your elbow onto the back of the couch, your hand holding your head. “I’m sorry” you pinch your lips in an empathetic smile. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No. Yeah. I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter anyways” he smiles tiredly as he looks up at you.

“If you wanna talk about it I’m all ears, and if you don’t that’s okay, you don’t have to.”

He sighs and rubs his eyes again. “It’s just… It was all for nothing.” he huffs out. “All I do to try to make it work is always for nothing at the end.” You swear you hear your heart crack at that moment. “Grossman advised me to get back with Mike when I told him I used to have a partner.” he scoffs.

You chuckle and shake your head in dismay. “Well that’s gonna be complicated” you say as you raise your eyebrows. “What a fucking moron” you mumble as you get up from your couch, going to the kitchen.

“I don’t wanna defend him but he couldn’t know” he declares as he follows you, leaning his side against the wall as you grab two glasses and a bottle of wine.

“I’m not exclusively talking about that. He’s a fucking moron for rejecting you” you say as you turn back to him, handing him the glass. He takes it and shrugs and you sigh as you fill it. “How many copies of your record would I have to buy to make you rich?”

He laughs before taking a sip of the wine, and he raises his eyebrows in amusement.

“You ending up homeless in your turn isn’t the point sweetheart” he says as he watches you pouring yourself some wine before leaving the bottle on the counter.

“I just want you to be okay.” the words weakly escape your mouth as you walk back to your living room, and his eyes light up at your words. God, if only you knew how much it meant to him that you wanted him to be okay, if only you knew how much you meant to him.

“Don’t worry about me angel. I’ll just go back to merchant marines” he sighs as he sits down on your couch.

You look down at him with empathetic eyes and take a sip from your glass before putting it down on the coffee table. “It’s gonna be okay” you tell him sitting down next to him, mostly trying to convince yourself. Truth is you rely a lot on how he feels.

He hums absent-mindedly, gaze lost in the void of your living room and leans to put his glass down too before shifting to face you and taking your hand in his. 

You look down at his hand, slowly and softly tracing his skin with your thumb.

“Llewyn” you whisper looking back at him, pushing away the curls falling over his face, threading your hand through the unruly dark curls.

He sighs softly as he looks up and down between your eyes and lips before his hands frame your face as his lips press over yours with more force than he had expected, like his eagerness to kiss you took over him. 

He’s not sure of his action and he’s fully convinced he has, once more, fucked another thing up like he always does as he doesn’t feel you moving, until he feels your hands join at his neck to bring him closer, deepening the kiss as you hum against his lips and as your tongues meet. 

It’s all the both of you had always been wishing for; diluting this unspoken tension between you, finally acting upon it. 

You shift to straddle his lap and he groans into your mouth as he pulls you closer by your hips, savoring every second of that kiss as if you’re going to slip through his fingers once you pull away, as if you’re going to regret all of this once it’s over. 

You know there is no reality where you could ever regret this; you had fantasized of doing this for ages and it’s even better than you had imagined this before; the wine somehow tastes better when it’s on his tongue, and you can feel the faint taste of cigarette in his warm breath as his broad hands run up and down your body, his body heat radiating against you.

You unconsciously hump against him as you want to get even closer, and a moan escapes your mouth, the friction against him deliciously relieving the growing ache between your legs.

“Fuck, Llewyn” you gasp against his mouth as you look down at your clothed crotches, evidently feeling his erection twitching under you even through the layers of clothes.

“Sorry baby” he whispers as his mouth chases yours, his gaze on you drunk and wanting. “Can’t really help it” the chuckle he lets out changes into a gasp when your hand shifts to palm him through his pants.

“The fuck are you sorry for?” you ask teasingly, a grin adorning your face as you leave his lap to kneel at his feet. He looks down at you speechless as you fiddle with his belt. “I know a way to make you feel better about all of this” He’s dreaming. This can’t be real.

“Sure but angel you– wh– you don’t have to–” he babbles as you’re working on freeing him of his confined space.

“I want to” you declare as you take his cock out, and fuck he’s hard and he’s huge and the heat pooling at your belly is becoming more and more pronounced. “If it’s okay” you look up at him, raising your eyebrows awaiting approval.

“Of course it is but we can– you don’t have to– oh shit” his pleas die on his tongue as you take him in your mouth, softly sucking his head as your hand strokes him. “Oh fuck” he groans, his head hitting the back of your couch.

This is a dream, it all happened so fast and there’s no way it’s real, he’s having another one of those dreams with you he’s so ashamed of, you never woke him up from his accidental nap on your couch, he’s still sleeping and this is not actually happening. 

Coming back to reality will be hard because fuck this feels so good and he’ll probably have to lock himself in your bathroom to actually get some relief once he wakes up.

He is confirmed of the realness of the situation when you grip the side of his thigh as if to tell him look at me while you softly lick the underside of him, shifting to trace every vein along his length, pre cum dripping from the head to coat your tongue.

“Is this okay?” you ask pulling away, the tip of your fingers still gently skimming his throbbing cock. He laughs at your question.

“Baby fuck–” he bucks into your hand after you swipe your thumb over his swollen tip. “Yes of course it’s okay” he chuckles as his hand cups your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone. “It’s more than okay” he declares as he looks down at you with lustful, dark half lidded eyes.

“Good” you smile up at him before sinking down and taking him fully at once without warning.

The moan that escapes his mouth is sinful and it makes you clench, and the light tug after his fingers shift to grip your hair goes straight to your cunt. 

You take him as deeply as you can, going up and down, tongue swirling around him from time to time. His head falls back against your couch once again, and he squeezes his eyes shut as his grip on your hair tightens.

“Holy shit dove– I don’t think I’m gonna last long” he manages to breathe out between whimpers, tightening his free hand into a fist to prevent himself from cumming right then and there into your mouth.

Then you pull away and he groans.

“What the fuck?” he asks startled as you get up, leaving him twitching and wanting, the feeling of his approaching orgasm slowly fading away.

“Jeez stop being so impatient” you taunt as you start unbuttoning your trousers, and his expression is priceless once he realizes what you have in mind.

“Oh–” you teasingly smile at him and slide your trousers down your legs. “Baby it’s not that I don’t want to but I don’t have any condoms and I can pull out but you know how cursed I am with all of this and–”

“I’m clean and on birth control it’s okay Llewyn” you cut him off of his tirade as you step out of the trousers at your ankles, throwing them to the side. “If you don’t want to do that it’s okay, I can finish you off by–”

You’re cut off when he grabs you by the hips, pulling you closer to the couch he’s sitting on, and you know he’s in for the ride – quite literally – when his thumbs hook into the hem of your underwear to slide them down your legs. He does the same, fully taking off his slacks and underwear and throwing them over the armchair across your couch.

He looks up at you like you’re a goddess, and even though his dick is aching and begging for release he takes his sweet time gazing at you like you’re the eighth wonder of the world.

You softly smile at him, brushing back the raven curls falling over his forehead, and giggles escape from your mouth when he unexpectedly drags you so you can straddle his lap.

He kisses all along your jawline, beard softly tickling your skin as he lavishes your neck next, his hands roaming along your curves, his right hand stopping between your thighs, two of his fingers gathering the slick of your folds.

“Shit– you’re fucking dripping” he breathes out against your neck, making you whimper at his touch. “Did you get that wet just from blowing me?” he teases, and you tug at the curls on the back of his head before reconnecting your lips to his, feeling him smirk against them.

Llewyn groans in your mouth as you wrap your fingers around his cock and slowly pump it, and he knows for sure that the gasp you let out when you slowly but easily sink down on his length will be engraved in his mind.

“Holy shit” you pant, burying your head in the crook of his shoulder once you’re fully seated on his throbbing length.

“You okay?” he asks, one hand anchored at your hip and the other one softly trailing up your bare back underneath your shirt.

“Yeah” you breathe out, frantically nodding against him as your arms wrap around his neck, and you slowly start rocking your hips. The little whimpers he lets out are music to your ears, and the way he softly gasps your name has you clenching around him.

“Fuck angel you’re so fucking tight” Llewyn hisses, leaving a trail of kisses along your neck as you thrust down on him, finally finding a steady pace that leaves the both of you sweating and panting, clinging to each other. “Taking me so fucking well” he grunts against the exposed skin of your neck, the roughness of his beard tickling the sensitive area. Tugging on his hair so he can look back at you, his hips jerk up, and you pull him in for a hungry kiss. 

Of course he would like you pulling on his hair.

Happy with the reaction it elicited from him and the information you just got, your hands are gripping on his curls as you roll your hips against him. He practically fucks his tongue into your mouth, and you almost choke into the kiss when his thumb meets and massages your clit in small circles.

You gasp his name, and his hand that was stroking your back earlier is now tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear as he drinks in the sight of you using him for your pleasure. 

“Wanna make you cum first” his voice is rough and deep with lust, and the way you bite on your lower lip as you slightly flutter around him because of his words seem to encourage him; his grip against your hips becomes more and more firm and controlling, his pelvis thrusting up into you with a force that you hadn’t expected from him, his movements meeting yours and making you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Fucking hell Llewyn” it comes out as a sigh, but if the walls of your apartment weren’t so thin you would have at least screamed it.

You know he won’t have much work to do as you can already feel yourself nearing your climax; it’s all starting to become too much, but the good kind of too much. 

You gasp in surprise when Llewyn manhandles you with the force you ignored he still had from his merchant marines days and knocks over one of the glasses of wine on the coffee table, the liquid pouring all over the surface and dripping down onto your wooden floor. 

“Shit Llewyn” you gasp, pushing your nails deeper into his arms. 

It’s honestly a miracle you managed not to fall and you back landed on the couch correctly.

The mission isn’t a complete success, but you’re too caught up in the moment to stop because of some stupid wine so you just manage to tell him “Fuck it just keep going” while wrapping your legs around his waist so he keeps going, even more fervently.

You’re now laying on your couch, Llewyn hovering over you and hitting deeper spots inside of you, each movement faster than the previous one; the wet sounds between your legs are lewd and get even filthier each time he pounds into you. 

He’s close. You can see it, you can feel it by the way his thrusts stutter slightly. 

His head tilts down to where you’re connected, watching himself disappear inside of you, bringing his hand to you clit again.

“Fuck are you gonna cum for me baby?” he asks, his voice dripping with lust and desire as he toys and rubs circles over your aching clit.

You whimper and hiss and cry his name as you get lost in the feeling of his fingers and his hips ramming further into you, all the tension in your body morphing into waves of pleasure as you reach your climax, fluttering around him and cumming in silent gasps.

Llewyn is quick to follow you as your orgasm was all he was waiting for to finally let himself go; his movements become sloppier and his hips start to stutter, his eyes finally rolling to the back of his head and his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he stills, his cock spurting his cum deep inside of you. 

He grunts, and your head falls back into the couch as you feel drained of all your energy. Llewyn curses under his breath as he rests his forehead against your shoulder, panting, before pulling out and collapsing on top of you, his head resting against your chest. 

You both catch your breaths, staying here for a while with your fingers softly running through his hair before you start blissfully laughing, all the tension and seriousness of the situation fading away. 

He rests his head to the side, facing the scenery of the knocked over glasses still swaying over your coffee table. “Fucking hell your floor” he gasps before looking up at you, realizing the mess you have made with the wine.

“I’ll just put a rug over the stain I guess” you sigh. “It was worth it” you chuckle and lean down to kiss him. “I’m glad you didn’t take advice from Jean after all”

“What?” he asks, still dizzy from his climax.

“Not fucking anyone ever again, remember?” you ask and he laughs, getting up and walking to where he left his clothes to get dressed again.

“Yeah, well you better be consistent on your birth control because apparently my spermatozoids are warriors, and I wouldn’t want Jean to make a point” he chuckles as he slides into his slacks.

“We should be fine” you mutter while sitting up, reaching to pick your underwear from the floor. “I’ll call you if I need an abortion” you joke, standing up to put your underwear back on. “Ugh fuck” you whine picking up your trousers, seeing the wine stain covering it.

“I’ll help you clean and I’ll just… go” he mutters, scratching his forehead.

“Why do you wanna go” you ask absent-mindedly, walking to the kitchen to try to save your trousers from the wine stain.

“I don’t know” he declares following you into the kitchen before standing against your counter, hands gripping the edge of it. You look at him and he looks absent, livid, almost sick, and it is too much just for it to be his post-orgasm haze. 

You frown, and when you realize why he might want to leave your heart breaks a little.

“Did I do or say something wrong?” you ask. Maybe the abortion joke was too much, maybe you got fooled and he was just horny and needed to let it out of his system and regretted it now. “Llewyn do you…” you fully turn towards him, searching for your words. “Do you think this was a mistake?” you ask looking back at him, letting the garment rest in the sink. “Us sleeping together?”

“Me? No” he scoffs. The tension hangs in the air as you’re waiting for him to elaborate. “I figured you would”

You sigh and take a step closer to him.

“Llewyn no… Why would I?” you chuckle, almost offended at the thought.

“I don’t know. Nothing I do is ever good so why would this be any different?” he shrugs, closing his belt.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and shaking your head.

“No. You’re a fucking idiot.” you mutter under your breath.

“I know.” he replies quickly, not wasting one second. He walks back to your living room, gathering his stuff to go, really wanting to avoid having a fight with you, and preparing to leave like he had planned to.

“I don’t mean it like that. You wanna know why you’re a fucking idiot?” you ask rhetorically, following him closely. “You think you’re not good enough for everything you do in life when truth is, you’re just really unlucky.” you declare, “And you act like a jerk because you’re scared of actually succeeding in something.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Well surely you’re right about that too” he scoffs, pulling out his cigarette pack from his pocket.

“Don’t smoke inside of my apartment” you hiss. 

“I told you, I’m leaving.” he almost immediately snaps, putting the cigarette in his shirt pocket, taking his guitar case and his box of things, his coat thrown over it.

You sigh and put a hand over your forehead, and watch as he passes in front of you to go to your entry. 

It is now or never, or else it will never be the same. Tonight you had taken a step forward, but by taking this step forward you had also taken two steps backwards, and if you didn’t try to save this now it would never be saved.

“Llewyn” you call, and something breaks inside him at the sound of your voice. You had never called his name so weakly, so pleadingly.

He turns and finally looks at you, establishing eye contact for more than five seconds for the first time since your sexual encounter. He closes his eyes and shakes his head.

“I fucked this up too, didn’t I” he mutters, and you pinch your lips as it is your turn to shake your head as you step closer to him.

“No. No you didn’t.”

He looks down at the stuff he’s carrying and sighs.

“I don’t really wanna go.” he declares softly.

“Then stay,” you nod. “Please. I don’t want you to go.” you say as you take a step forward, taking the box from his hands. “If you leave I would need to run after you in just my shirt and underwear, and frankly I don’t want to do that” you smile slightly as you put his stuff down on the floor.

He laughs and puts the rest of his belongings on the floor too, and when he looks back at you he notices you’re still looking down on the floor, gaze lost in your thoughts.

“Honey is there–”

“Do you think sleeping together was a mistake?” you cut him off, looking back at him. 

“No. Of course not. I’d do it again.” he declares. “I mean if–”

“I get it. Don’t worry” you chuckle. 

A small silence fills the room before you get an idea.

“Hey, follow me” you say as you tilt your head. You cross your small apartment, Llewyn following you closely, grabbing your wrist as you push your bedroom door.

“Sweetheart I’d love to but I don’t think I can go again– I mean not right now”

“I’m not bringing you here to have sex again” you declare, a chuckle escaping your lips as you see his face relaxing and his hold on your wrist loosening up. You sit on the edge of your bed, and he watches you from a distance, leaning against the doorframe. “Come here” you call, patting the spot right beside you. Llewyn hesitantly sits beside you, and his gaze shifts to your face when you grab his hand.

“This could be your bed, if you wanted it to be.” The sound of your voice rings in his ears. “You wouldn’t have to sleep on my couch again. Or any other couch.” you declare, brushing back his unkempt hair, and he looks at the bed behind him as if to contemplate what he could have. 

He looks back at you, and he knows that he knows his answer. He doesn’t hesitate for one second on what he would rather have, because if he could be by your side forever, he would be. But something inside of him is not sure if you want him to be by your side forever.

He nods. He nods and he licks his lips in reflection, and he looks back at the bed before looking back at you again. “I don’t want this to be exclusively sexual” he declares, squeezing your hand tighter.

“Me neither” you smile, a wide smile that makes his heart sink. You grab his face and kiss him, and he savors this kiss like it’s the last thing he’s ever going to do. But if kissing you was the last thing he’d do, he would be satisfied with that.

You pull away from his lips and lay down on the bed, and his hand rests against your bare thigh while he looks at you. And he looks at you like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

He lays down next to you with a grunt, facing the ceiling, and you prop yourself against your elbow to face him.

“I’ll just ask you one thing” you declare, firmly looking at him.

“Mh?” he hums, looking at you.

You lick your lips and let your fingers trail along the side of his face. 

“Stop thinking you don’t deserve anything good.” you whisper, and his face shifts so he can kiss the tip of your fingers.

“Eh, I’ll try,” he smirks, shrugging. You shake your head and lean down to kiss him again, but he hovers over you and pins you down before you have the chance to do it.

You laugh and he kisses you, hungrily, and shifts down to leave a trail of kisses to your neck and collarbone as a defeated sigh escapes your mouth.

“Okay so I’ll give you time to work on the imposter syndrome. But now we can only have sex if you promise me you won’t hate yourself after we’re done”

He pulls away from your skin, and looks up at you. 

“I can do that.”

You spend a long night offering Llewyn your bed, the uncleaned stain of wine on your floor long forgotten.

But at least years later, when you’re engaged to Llewyn and packing to move out somewhere bigger and the time comes when you have to remove the rug, it reminds you of that specific night, and you can’t help the fluttering feeling of the butterflies in your stomach, accompanied right away by a tiny kick. The very first one.

—

comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

inside llewyn davis taglist: @apollo-enthusiast @scarabgrant @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @missmarmaladeth @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @beccabecs521

[lord-squiggletits]

For the fic-writers' asks, if you fancy them:

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

4. What detail in We Are The Music-Makers are you really proud of?

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

Ask source

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

Is it cheating to say Pay Unto Evil? It's not just because it's my most popular fic by all metrics, the longest project I've written, and the first complete novel I've ever completed, though. I just feel like, particularly in the later chapters, it's a good introduction to the themes that I often write about (mental health/suicidality, searches for meaning, bonds with other people, etc) and is the most complete summary of who I am as a writer in a way.

Though, if someone were to prefer something lighter, I'd honestly recommend An Endless Form Most Beautiful because out of all my fics that I started a year or two ago, I feel like AEFMB is the one that holds up the most strongly w.r.t. prose, characterization, romantic pacing, mystery, and so on. It's also dark, but far less grueling than PUE.

(On that note, it kind of amazes me how many people have told me they found PUE to be more depressing/hard to read than WATMM, considering the latter involves a bittersweet ending w/ major character death.)

4. What detail in We Are The Music-Makers are you really proud of?

Off the top of my head, I'd say that it'd be 1. Orion and Megatron interfacing right after escaping prison and basically cementing their love/bond with each other for the high emotion of the moment. I like how it (and moreso their later interface during their rebellion period) is incredibly romantic and affirming and shows how M/OP uphold each other's best traits, but it's also a little dark in that they're clearly codependent on each other and almost... not sane/well when they're not together.

Or 2. The major character deaths in chapter 6, both how I built up to them and how the characters actually died. That one is because that plot point was one I came up with from the very night I conceptualized WATMM, so in my mind, it had a lot of buildup to it. I knew what was going to happen from the start, and it was one of (if not the) most important climaxes of the story, so I was incredibly keen to be sure that the actual execution of it matched what had been in my mind for a year or more by the time I finally wrote it.

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

I'm really keen on the stuff I've been cooking for Cityspeaker AU Tarnma as far as the psychology of a Titan goes. Like, Tarn is a sort of eldritch being (already a fun concept in its own right) that has a sort of collectivist mindset; not in a hivemind kind of way, but his sense of scale and level of awareness is so broad, and he's literally a living nest/colony for his smaller species members to live on. The way that anatomical differences pave the way for massive differences in perspective. Hell, the concept has even opened my mind in general to the concept of like... almost insect colony-esque Cybertronian interspecies symbiotic relationships.

On top of all the mechanical and worldbuilding aspects of it, it's also been really fun to ponder how being a Titan would then in turn alter Tarn's characterization. Pharma's characterization is more or less a slightly different angle on what exists in canon, but for Tarn he has this massive shift in perspective that changes a lot. Not least of which is that Tarn is Tarn without having been converted by Megatron, but he's also not Tarn of the DJD that we know in canon, and neither is he Damus/Glitch. So there's just a lot to play around with there in terms of defining Titan!Tarn's key traits as carried over from canon, and how he'd express himself while also being an eldritch being that Pharma needs training to even talk to without dying.

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

IDW1 MegOP role reversal AU in which Megatron is a cop and Orion is a miner. No one else swapped: so for example, Megatron would be around people like Ratchet, Roller, and Senator Shockwave, and Orion would have Impactor and Terminus.

I think it'd be hella interesting to see how differently everything would go if M and OP were in swapped positions. Like as an example, Megatron probably would've been more conscious of stuff like Senator Shockwave putting the Matrix casing in him without asking and be aware that he was being manipulated somehow. Orion would very likely reject Terminus' teachings on how leadership is lonely and you have to cut off all your relationships so you can sit on the heights and do what you need to do. Or then again, maybe Terminus would be a slightly less evil (but still toxic) influence on Orion making him have the same martyr complex he has in canon.

And you could even do further splits from there like how Megatron deals with increasing evidence of corruption in the government, or how Orion would handle killing someone for the first time in the arena. You could fuck around with whether Megatron becomes the Prime or if Orion still does somehow. Honestly, I feel like in this scenario, M and OP would be way more likely to be able to meet peacefully and help each other out because... it just feels right to me that they would be able to see the evils and prevent their moral downfalls, but only when walking in the other's shoes.

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

I think there's a list of fics that've pushed me in some way or another, honestly:

Pay Unto Evil and The Wicked for finding a way to fit reasonably accurate psychology/therapy into a dramatic story, but without falling into purely clinical explanations for things or making it seem "therapy speak" ish

Cityspeaker AU/Un solo cuerpo is currently pushing me on how to accurately translate characterization from canon to an AU that's so wildly divergent from it, given that I'm normally extremely canon compliant and tend to work off canon divergence rather than completely making up a new AU with a different premise and new lore. This is my first plotfic that, imo, could be more accurately described as continuity soup/original continuity rather than being strictly IDW-based (honorable mentions to Let the Poets Pipe of Love for also having this conundrum)

Every single plug and play scene I've written, PWP or plot, for pushing me to try to describe eroticism from an entirely alien perspective without falling back on human-like sticky sex

For Once, Nothing is Burning, because writing a multichapter plot-focused story where there's literally only two characters present and they are each other's sole source of social interaction (and where the POV character is largely stuck in one place for most of the story) is harder than you think it'd be for someone who's been writing Megatron and Optimus as long as I have

Through the bitter, sweetness: Because trying to describe the eroticism of a foot fetish through strictly a written medium was a big challenge for a kink I see as way more visual/tactile and hard to make appealing with words/imagination alone.

No comment on how it's affected my ability to write moving forward because I basically forget about every story I write as soon as it's done AND because my brain is soup and I can barely keep up with real life, much less look back on hobby writing and do some sort of style study/reflection on it.

[cintasfics]

Hear Santa Barbara, I swear it's calling me

pairing: carlton lassiter x oc

summary: a private case leads the three members of psych detective agency to a nightclub, where marley goes undercover as a dancer to find out more information. the head detective at sbpd enters the same club one night following a tip called into the station and is taken aback by what he sees.

wc: 3.6k

warnings: mentions of drugs and gun violence

a/n: bruh. this is the longest thing i've ever written and i smashed it out in a couple of days. this show has sunk it's claws into me big time. also please forgive the details of the case if it makes no sense, it was the thing i struggled with the most lol

Things had been slow going at the Psych detective agency lately. The residents of Santa Barbara seemingly on their best behaviour for the past two weeks, and while one would normally appreciate a low crime rate, fake psychics with unmedicated ADHD and nothing else to keep them occupied did not share the sentiment. The lack of crime meant a lack of cases, with Chief Vick responding to all his inquiries for work with a blanket ‘if we need you, we’ll call you. Goodbye Mr. Spencer.’

But things started looking up when a young woman came by the office seeking his services, explaining that she worked at a local nightclub as a dancer but was recently blacklisted after overhearing a tense conversation between the club manager and one of the bartenders. Not only that, but she had the feeling some of her fellow dancers were involved in something sketchy. She was sure it was something illegal, but she didn’t want to go to the police out of fear of facing repercussions and getting her friends in trouble.

During a busier week, Shawn would’ve dismissed the case outright as it initially appeared to be nothing more than an employment dispute, but she was insistent that there was more to it and it piqued his interest. The allure of the club and its dancers certainly helped sway him too, and so he called a staff meeting to discuss the plan.

‘If we’re going to find out more about what’s going on in this place, we need a man on the inside.’

Though she was suspicious of where this was going, Marley conceded to his point, ‘makes sense.’

‘And because we here at Psych detective agency believe in equal opportunity employment, I’ve decided that the best man for the job, as is in many such cases, is a woman,’ this attempt at ass-kissing was accompanied by a serene smile and clasped hands, an admittedly good impression of a CEO giving a press release.

And while this would’ve been received well by investors, Marley wasn’t buying it, ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Aww come on, Marls! It’ll be fun! And I’ve seen that stripper pole in your apartment, I know you’ll do great!’

‘My unquestionable talent isn’t the issue here, there’s a reason I only dance in the privacy of my own home. No way in hell I’m getting up on a stage in front of a club full of people!’

‘Don’t be like that, I’ve seen you let loose during nights out before!’

‘When I’m more than a few drinks deep sure! But I don’t think management would appreciate me showing up to work drunk, nor would it help me effectively gather information.’

‘I don’t know,’ Gus piped up from his desk, ‘you’re a lot more charismatic and chatty when you drink, so it could work in our favour.'

‘This is true, good point, Gus! Plus I'm sure the dancers indulge at least a little, employee discounts and all that.'

Still not convinced and feeling like she was being ganged up on, she went on the offensive, ‘why do I have to do this anyway? Why can’t you guys pretend to be a bartender or a DJ or something?’

Shawn seemed to mull this idea over for a second before his eyes lit up, ‘hey that’s not a bad idea, gives us something fun- I mean, productive to do while we check the place out.’

A fanciful expression slowly came over Gus’ face, followed by a smug smirk, ‘yeah. Yeah! That could work, I was known in high school for my killer playlists so I bet I could rock a DJ gig.’

‘Dude what? No,’ came Shawn's indignant reply, like the mere idea had insulted him, ‘people loved my playlists in high school, if anyone’s going to be the DJ it’s going to be me!’

‘You’re dreaming, Shawn! It’s not just high school either, my Spotify playlists get a ton of views and likes! Not to mention all the followers I have because they just can’t get enough of me!’

‘That’s only because I use your account so all my playlists are under your name, they’re all there for me not you!’

‘What do you mean you use my account? I’m the only one paying for it!’

Realising that this was going nowhere and they could be here all day if she didn’t intervene, Marley begrudgingly conceded to the plan.

‘Ugh! Fine! But if I’m doing this, I get a bigger commission because I’m doing a lot of legwork here!’

Pleased to hear this, not only because she agreed to his plan but also because her loud concession distracted Gus from his treachery, Shawn immediately turned his attention back to her.

‘Not to mention armwork, you know, because of the pole-‘

‘Shut up, Shawn.’

~}i{~

In order to prepare for going undercover, Marley met up with the client to get some advice and background information on the club and its staff. She wasn’t a real nightclub person so it took a bit of coaching to be able to act the part and maintain it for the duration of her shift, but the clients help was invaluable and with the added bonus of a fake resume, she quickly got the job.

The mid-morning peace of the Psych office the morning after her club debut was disturbed by the sound of the front door opening. The two men sitting inside raised their heads from their phones to see Marley enter the room nursing a cup of coffee with her eyes hidden behind her sunglasses.

‘Well, if it isn’t our own little Dita Von Tease! We were wondering when you’d roll in!’

Shawn’s boisterous greeting was met with a wince and a hiss that made Gus think of a vampire braving the light of day after a deep sleep, though he knew better than to voice that comparison. Marley could be downright scary when irritated.

‘Please lower your voice, I’m still waking up,’ Marley hissed, hoping for some grace.

‘Sorry,’ Shawn, having the same fear instilled in him, lowered his voice, ‘I’m just excited to hear how your first night went.’

She took a moment to situate herself on the couch by the window before responding.

'It went alright, the other girls were welcoming enough but I didn't get a chance to really talk to any of them,’ she paused to take a sip of her coffee, ‘but I did overhear one of the girls, Amber, having a pretty intense phone call. I asked another girl if she knew anything about it out of ‘concern’ and she said that Amber had a knack for getting herself in to trouble, always managing to find the wrong crowd, but that this was the worse she’d seen her.’

Gus, feeling it was safe to speak up now she had comfortably situated herself, asked the next question, ‘What was the phone call about?’

‘From what I could gather it sounded like she had some bad debts but that she had a plan to pay them back.’

Shawn and Gus shared a knowing nod and a pensive look, ‘they always do, but it rarely works out well.’

‘Kasey, one of the bottle girls, also let it slip that the relationship between Amber and Cole, one of the bartenders, is less than strictly professional.'

‘Oooh, scandalous~’ chimed in Shawn with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

‘But it’s still sounding like a case of a toxic work environment and personal dramas, which isn’t great but it’s not a crime,’ came Gus’ assessment.

‘Hmm, I don’t know,’ part of her agreed with Gus, but she just had a funny feeling about it all, ‘I mean that’s probably the case, but I think I’m gonna stick around for a bit longer, something doesn’t feel right. Maybe having you guys there as an extra set of eyes would help too.’

‘Hey, Marley, it’s okay,’ she turned to Shawn, drawn in by his serious tone, ‘if you’re really liking this job there’s no shame in admitting it. I’m sure you could cut back on your hours at the hospital, or split your night shifts between there and the club if you really wanted to.’

Tired from the late night and lacking the energy to berate him, Marley simply grabbed one of the throw pillows off the couch and spiked it at his head.

~}i{~

‘God I hate places like this.’

‘Are there any places you do like? And remember to keep a low profile, the chief isn’t sure if there’s anything to this tip suggesting suspicious activity but we’re better off just hanging back and seeing what we can find.'

‘I don’t need you telling me how to do my job, O’Hara.’

‘I’m not telling you how to do your job I’m just- Listen. Why don’t we just go over to the bar and see what we can get off the bartender?’

‘Fine by me.’

Juliet led the way to the bar, with Lassiter following close behind her trying to avoid the sea of dancers around them.

‘You’d think a place like this would be a fire hazard with the amount of people-‘ Lassiter’s tirade was cut short when Juliet came to a sudden stop in front of him, causing him to crash into her.

His demand to know what the hold-up was died in his throat at Juliet's bewildered words.

‘Is that Marley?’

‘Huh? Where?’

Lassiter quickly looked around, trying to spot the woman who had recently taken up a sizeable piece of real estate in his brain, though it would take an immense amount of torture to get him to admit it.

‘Over there, on the raised platform!’ she shouted over her shoulder, raising her voice both to be heard over the music and in disbelief.

Lassiter followed her direction and his mouth went dry.

There, on the raised platform just as his partner had said, was Marley. Though it took a second for his brain to process it was really her as she had just dipped into an inverted position on the chrome pole in the centre of the platform.

As she spun around and returned to an upright position, he was able to appreciate the sparkly little number she had on, the black fringe mesmerising and the glossy platform heels making her legs appear to go on forever, maybe even making them an equal height for once. Not that he minds her short stature, if he gave it more than a moments thought he might even realise that he found it cute. And though it would be nice to be a bit closer to her lips (just the thought of leaning down to reach is enough to make his back ache), the smile that graces them as she looks up at him from beneath her eyelashes makes the phantom pain truly non-existent. Plus, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have thoughts of sweeping her up off her feet, a small thing like her would probably fit in his pocket, his to protect, to cherish and keep to himself-

‘Carlton!’

He was pulled from his train of thought by his first name, which is used sparingly enough to succeed in getting his attention when Juliet's repeated calls of ‘Lassiter’ failed.

He blinked a few times in quick succession to clear his mind and pursed his lips to try and regain some composure before responding, unsure if his mouth had been hanging open like some simpleton.

‘Yes?’

He was so focused on appearing composed that he didn’t notice the knowing smile on his partners lips.

‘I was just saying that knowing our track record, if one of the three musketeers is here then the other two can’t be far behind. I’m sure it’s no coincidence we’re both at a place of interest, and I doubt Marley would work at a place like this otherwise,’ her words were tinged with amusement, both at Lassiter’s reaction to seeing their friend/colleague dancing on the small stage, and at the feeling that once they ran into her accomplices the night would become a lot more interesting.

Her words made perfect sense to Lassiter, but he couldn’t help but think she belonged up there. Maybe in another life, if nursing didn't work out. Or is this how she paid off her student debt? He knew she worked while she attended university but he would've remembered if she ever mentioned that this was what she did. This plus the fact that if he’d never seen her here, the thought never would have crossed his mind because it seemed so out of character for the usually reserved woman.

Feeling he was beginning to get lost in his thoughts again, he shook his head and turned his back to the stage (as much as it pained him) to gather them.

‘You’re right, the tweedles have to be here somewhere sticking their noses where they don’t belong.'

Keeping an eye out for the troublesome duo (and as much as one on Marley as he could afford to without failing back into his previous train of thought), the detectives continued on their way to the bar. Though their search for the psychic and his assistant didn’t take long when they finally flagged down the bartender and were met with Gus’ friendly face.

‘Evening, what can I get y’all?’

His smile was so disarming and he played the part of a stranger so well that it took them both a second to react.

‘Gus?’

‘Guster?!’

The joint exclamations of his name seemed to snap Gus out of character and he immediately started fidgeting with a glass, knowing the jig was up, ‘uhh, h-hey guys! Fancy seeing you here, small world huh?’

Feeling a headache coming on the closer he got to Spencer, Lassiter rubbed his eyes and ground out ‘yeah, tiny.’

Torn between exasperation and amusement, not expecting to run into one of the guys so quickly, Juliet took the lead, ‘what are you doing here, Gus?’

‘Well, I figured with the rising cost of living it wouldn’t hurt to get a second job- third job, really- hard to believe the state of the economy nowadays, huh? Anyway, you two have fun and I’ll see you at the station the next time we get called in,’ trying his best not to act suspicious or give up the real reason he was here, Gus turned away intending to serve a club-goer on the other side of the bar where the duties of his job would keep him safe from the detectives’ questions.

‘Hold it!’

If only he could be so lucky.

The emotional rollercoaster this night was turning out to be relieved Lassiter of the last thread of his patience, ‘you expect us to believe that? That you and Marley just happen to both suddenly be working at a nightclub with reports of suspicious activity? Fat chance! Now where the hell is Spencer, I know he’s here somewhere!’

Gus tried one last Hail Mary, the ever-reliable act of playing dumb.

‘Wait, Marley’s here too?’

The glare he received from Lassiter was enough to change his tune.

‘Right, sorry. Last I saw Shawn he was leaving the DJ booth, in the middle of his set I might add, which if I got to be the DJ like I wanted to I would never do,’ the last part was laced with bitterness and the smug assurance that he would’ve remained professional where Shawn did not, but Juliet chose to ignore it, focusing on the matter at hand.

‘Which way did he go?’

‘Off to the left, through the employee only door, he might’ve been following someone but I’m not sure.’

‘Right, thanks Gus.’

Leaving the pseudo-bartender to his devices, Lassiter led the way to the door off to the side of the large room marked ‘employees only’, determined to figure out just what the hell was going on here.

~}i{~

The club was evacuated following some gunshots coming from the backrooms, with police cars arriving quickly outside. Having been a few days since the trio were first given the case, tensions within the club had finally risen enough to come to a head.

Not long after the two detectives made their way into the employee only section, they came across Shawn in the middle of a confrontation involving Amber, Cole, the manager, and a local drug supplier.

In his usual dramatic fashion, Shawn explained the situation to the detectives, telling them how Amber had fallen into some bad debts and went to her manager, a close friend of hers, for help. Having romantic feelings for the girl, the manager was quick to do whatever she asked, and with his connections from his time at the club, he worked out a deal to move some product through the place in order to ease her debts.

Cole, the bartender and Amber’s boyfriend, started catching on to the fact that something was up between the two, and feeling scorned, he called in a tip to the police station, hoping the cops would take care of the situation for him by punishing the both of them. The couples bad luck continued though, with the supplier becoming unhappy with the small amount of drugs being sold and coming down himself to see what the issue was. He, like the detectives, entered upon a tense situation, with the three employees having a shouting match.

The gunshots came when Cole lost his temper, blaming their manager for the trouble Amber was in, as well as the jealousy he felt, and attacked him. Not being in his right mind, the bullets missed their target and he was quickly subdued and all four of them taken into custody.

~}i{~

Having been corralled outside with the crowd, Marley missed the excitement and the big resolution of the case. She was standing on the sidewalk hugging her arms to her chest, trying to fight off the chill in the air while waiting to hear from the others, when she suddenly felt a piece of fabric fall over her shoulders. She clutched at the warm material to find a large suit jacket, a familiar scent filling her nose and its owner moving to stand beside her.

'Here. Don't want you to catch a cold,' he tried to play it cool, but there was an undeniable softness in the detective’s voice.

Though she shouldn’t be considering the situation, she was surprised by Lassiter’s sudden presence.

'Thanks, Lassie,' the small act of kindness as well as his close proximity warmed her better than the jacket ever could, 'my clothes are in the dressing room but I wasn't sure if I was good to go back inside yet.’

‘Well, we’ve apprehended the shooter and the three other people involved, but the rest of the staff will need to be questioned.’

‘Me included?’

‘The more information the better, but I can take your statement while you get your stuff.’

‘Thanks, Lassie,’ she thanked him again, knowing that the sooner she got her stuff the sooner she could leave and head home, ‘I appreciate it.’

He held out his arm for her to take, and seeing her raised eyebrow and silent question, explained the gesture, ‘the last thing we need is you tripping over in those heels and eating pavement on the way to the dressing room. I don’t really want to have to call for a medic on top of everything else,’ he gave the heeled boots in question a pointed look, appreciating her bare legs as his gaze travelled downwards.

He was right, by the way. The heels did bring them closer together in height. But what he didn’t anticipate with the change in height was the new details of her face it revealed to him. Her eyes weren’t just a deep brown, but contained different shades, like the bark of a strong tree that was hidden deep inside a forest, with sunlight shifting through the trees to highlight the different grooves and hidden shades. He also noticed for the first time the faint freckles smattered across her nose and cheeks.

Her airy laughter and warm grip on his forearm brought him back from another rogue train of thought, managing to catch it before it went completely off the rails.

‘God what is going on with me tonight?’

He cleared his throat and started to lead her back inside the club, hoping that his sanity would return once she was out of his coat, into her own clothes, and on her way home.

‘I don’t even know how you manage to dance in those things.’

His comment brought a blush to her cheeks, turning her gaze to the ground under the guise of watching where she was stepping, her words coming out with a shy laugh, ‘you saw that did you?’

‘Only a bit of it,’ he tried to hide how taken he was by the display by faking a tone of nonchalance, ‘my attention quickly turned to Guster behind the bar.’

‘Oh God, don’t even start on that,’ her embarrassment was quickly forgotten as she rolled her eyes at the mention of her friend and his assigned role, ‘who got to do what was a big fight between the two, I gave up trying to mediate as soon as it started getting physical. Honestly, it was like watching two children have a slap fight.’

The charged air between them cleared as Marley recounted the childish squabble between Gus and Shawn over who got to play the coveted role of DJ, her fondness for the two idiots evident in her voice.

A smile made it’s way onto the detectives face as he listened to her talk, and he spent the rest of the night basking in the faint scent she had left on his jacket.