#‘no I’m going home to my wife. who I love. lol’

[prythianpages]

Out of My Head | Azriel x Reader

Azriel x Reader x Eris | Your father, the Night Court’s astrologer, is called to Velaris and you tag along with the hopes of catching a glimpse of Azriel, the one you’re madly in love with. The opportunity for Azriel to show you around comes up and you take it, unaware that things are about to become messy…

warning: this was meant to be cute & short to show your relationship with Az but it ended up being 5,685 words oops lol, some angst, rhys kinda being an asshole again

a/n: Eris does make an appearance in this if you look closely 🤭 I tried to write this fic off as a stand alone so it's still easy to follow but if you need more context, here is the masterlist.

Meeting Azriel had felt like fate, as if the stars and his shadows themselves had conspired to cross your paths. Becoming his friend had been a choice. But falling in love with him? That was out of your control, like being swept away by a tide you hadn’t noticed rising. 

Now, you were drowning and happy to drown. To let the flood of him consume you entirely. Every time you’d see him, even from afar, it’d fill your chest with a feeling you couldn’t explain, your heart leaping at the mere thought of catching his gaze.

You welcomed the flood of emotions, let it carry you to depths you’d never dared to explore. Your heart was so irrevocably his, you had no desire to find the surface.

So when Rhysand had invited your father to Velaris to discuss his first born’s birth chart, you insisted on coming along. It had taken days of pleading to wear down his resolve, but you had done it. Manifested it, rather, with the help of the moonwater you kept hidden beneath your bed.

Seeing Azriel was not guaranteed, as you were unsure if he’d even be in Velaris. But that wasn’t the only reason you wanted to go. Leaving behind the harshness of the Court of Nightmares, even for a short while, was reward enough. And if fortune smiled upon you, perhaps your father would let you assist with the reading, just this once.

Your father had never quite embraced your desire to follow in his footsteps.  The way he’d look at both you and your brother with that disappointed gleam in his eyes stung. He had always hoped you would stay at home and learn the ways of a “perfect,” traditional Night Court wife, much like your mother. His dreams of a successor rested squarely on your brother’s shoulders, not yours. But much to his dismay and your relief, your brother had chosen to become a warrior in Keir’s army.

Everything you knew of astrology, you’d learned by sneaking into his sessions, stealing glances at his star charts, or losing yourself in the dusty books of the Night Court’s observatory. That cold, stone-walled tower had become your sanctuary—your only glimpse of the night sky.

Though still in the Night Court, the air in Velaris was different. It felt cleaner, lighter. Freer. A wonderful contrast to the oppressive weight of the Court of Nightmares. You took a deep breath, savoring the rare glimpse of the day sky from the High Lord’s impressive townhouse, your father having just winnowed you both.

The sun felt so warm and soothing against your skin. Too caught up in the beauty of the daytime sky, you didn’t notice when your father abruptly stopped. You walked straight into him, sending the heavy box and stack of books in your arms tumbling to the ground.

A hiss of disapproval escaped your father as he turned to scowl at you.

���I’m sorry,” you mumbled, quickly dropping to your knees to gather the scattered items.

“I should’ve left you at home,” he said with an exhausted sigh.

"But who then would assist you in bearing the weight of all these books, given the state of your back? Rest assured, my arms are more than capable,” you said with a huff as you slowly rose back to your feet, arms overwhelmed with the weight of your father’s things. “I shall gladly bear the burden for you, father."

“Clearly.” Your father said dryly, his gaze pointedly lingering on the dented corner of one of the boxes.

You winced at his tone, grateful his back was turned to you again. The door to the High Lord’s and High Lady’s house opened, the former being the one to greet you. Even Rhysand was different here. His violet eyes gleamed warmly, free of the cruelty he wore like armor in the Court of Nightmares. The smile he sent you both softened some of the tension knotting your chest.

 “Damus, Y/n,” he greeted. “I appreciate you both coming all this way.”

Rhysand gestured for you to follow him. This was not your first time in Velaris but it was your first time meeting Rhysand in a private residence of his here. You couldn’t hold back the small gasp that escaped you as you marveled at the beauty around. Paintings, no doubt crafted by the hands of your High Lady, adorned the wall and there was light. So much light and warmth in this house. It truly felt like a home. No stone walls, no darkness, no cold.

There was a flutter in your chest when you felt something cool and velvet-like brush against your legs. You instinctively glanced down, though the books obstructed your view. And when you looked back up, there it was–that giddy leap in your heart.

Azriel immediately rose from the couch he had been seated on, his hazel eyes meeting yours before they dropped to the weight in your arms. With a few swift steps, he was in front of you, plucking the boxes and books from your grip as though they weighed nothing. You exhaled softly, your thanks barely audible over the rush of blood in your ears.

Azriel smiled, shadows curling gently around him as he shifted closer. “I wasn’t sure you’d be coming along today,” he murmured.

“Neither was I,” you admitted, turning your head toward him as you continued to walk. “But I’m glad I did.”

“So am I,” Azriel said.

Your cheeks burned at his words, and you quickly averted your gaze. Azriel was glad you were here. Perhaps, even waiting for you, hoping for you to show up. That had to mean something, didn’t it? Perhaps it was proof of what you’d always suspected—that the bond you felt pulling you toward him wasn’t one-sided. A spark of vindication flared as you imagined Eris sneering at you from some dark corner of your mind. If only he were here to witness this moment. To see just how wrong he’d been.

Azriel did like you and it was only a matter of time before it evolved into something more.

You frowned, shaking the thought away. Why were you even thinking about Eris? And since when did proving anything to him matter?

“Y/n.” Your father’s sharp tone dragged you back to reality. “The books.”

“Oh,” you breathed, glancing at Azriel, who still held them. Before you could speak, your father’s gaze darkened as he realized the task you were supposed to handle had been passed off.

Azriel’s jaw tightened but he said nothing as he handed the books and boxes over.

You moved to follow your father into the study, but he blocked your path, his glare cutting through you. “Stay here and don’t cause trouble,” he said before the door shut with a resounding thud.

You flinched, staring at the closed door. “Sweet Cauldron,” you muttered under your breath, “did Mercury retrograde move into his mood?”

A shadow curled around your wrist, the soft caress of it soothing the sting of your father’s dismissal. The corner of your lips lifted slightly. Azriel had told you once how the shadows came to him during a time of unbearable darkness, offering comfort when nothing else could. They showed him that darkness wasn’t inherently wicked, that it could hold its own kind of solace and strength.

Azriel had also told you that his shadows didn’t approach others. At least not like this, so openly and friendly. To them, you were one of the few exceptions, having met them before you properly acquainted yourself with their master.

You often wondered why. Did they sense the sorrow you tried to bury beneath and conceal? The longing that seeped into your soul–longing not just for their master but for freedom, for a life beyond the suffocating confines of the Court of Nightmares?

Your gaze lifted, finding Azriel’s attention focused on the tendril wrapped around your wrist. His hazel eyes darkened slightly, thoughtful, as if trying to decipher a mystery.

“Well, what am I supposed to do now?”

Azriel blinked, his attention falling back to you, gaze softening. The siphons on his leathers caught the light and your eye. You followed the movement of his arms as he slid his hands into the pocket of his leathers and wondered what they’d look like in casual clothing. And how far did those tattoos stretch, the ones that peeked above his collar and disappeared into those leathers? 

“We could go for a walk?”

Your brows lifted in surprise. “A walk?”

Azriel sauntered closer to you and a tingly sensation bubbled up in your stomach. “It’s a beautiful day outside and I would hate for you to waste it in here.”

“But my father…”

“He doesn’t have to know,” Azriel replied with a small, sly grin that felt almost boyish, his shadows dancing around him. He then gestured toward the door to Rhysand’s study, where some of his shadows had already slithered beneath the gap, lying in wait.  “Your father will be in there for a while. And besides, I did promise you I’d show you around, didn’t I?”

You bit your lip in contemplation, gaze flickering between the door and Azriel. This was what you’d wanted, been hoping for, wasn’t it? A chance to see Azriel, and now here he was, offering you his time. Your heart leaped at the opportunity, already screaming yes.

But your mind wasn’t so easily swayed. What if your father needed you? Wouldn’t this be your perfect chance to prove your worth, to show him how capable you were? Then again, the way he had dismissed you earlier, slamming the door in your face, made it clear he wasn’t expecting or even wanting your help…

“Only if you’d like, of course,” Azriel added, his tone soft. He must’ve sensed your troubled thoughts. “I can always keep you company here instead.”

The flutter in your chest returned with full force. Azriel seemed to really want to spend time with you. Alone. And as much as you admired the beauty of the High Lord’s house, the promise of fresh air, open skies, and Azriel’s company was too tempting to resist.

You found yourself nodding, your heart overriding your head. “I think I’d like to go for a walk.”

**

Velaris continued to take your breath away. 

Children darted between market stalls, their faces alight with pure delight as they chased one another without fear. So incredibly and unbelievably different to the cold silence and rigid rules of propriety in Hewn City. Here, no one glanced over their shoulder with suspicion or hurried along with their head bowed.

The people of Velaris moved freely. Kindness radiated from strangers who greeted one another warmly, who paused to chat in the bustling markets or helped an elder carry their bags. Artists lined the streets, painting the city’s beauty on canvas while musicians filled the air with beautiful melodies.

Azriel led you through the city, showing you as many places he could. He took you to a small bakery first, where he swore the best chocolate croissants were made. Then, to a cafe that sold a variety of appetizing teas. You drank it all in, committing the wonders of Velaris to memory.

As you walked along a bridge, the river’s gentle current caught your eye. It was broad daylight yet, the water glimmered like liquid starlight. You paused, resting against the bridge’s railings. Azriel moved to stand beside you, tucking in his wings so they wouldn’t bump against you. 

You couldn’t help but think how unfair life could be. For a place such as Hewn City to exist at the same time as this one. Both of the same court, yet so divided. And why had you been born in the wrong one? 

Azriel picked up on the way your expression had fallen. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said and at the way Azriel’s eyes watched you closely, you knew he was not convinced. You let out a soft sigh, relenting.  

“It’s just…I thought places like this only existed in my dreams,” you glanced down at your hands. “And now, I just can’t help but dread my attendance at the next Court of Nightmare’s ball even more…when I could be here instead, watching the stars from the City of Starlight itself..free of any worry, any burdens.”

Azriel frowned at the hidden implication of your words.

A dark tendril fluttered toward you, brushing the hair that had fallen back behind your ear. Another softly brushed against your face and wiped a stray tear away. More went to you, wrapping around your hands, seeking to give you comfort and you honestly weren’t sure if it was of their own will or Azriel’s.

Their comfort brought you back to the fateful night you first met them. You’d known of them–of the Night Court’s shadowsinger, at least–long before you actually knew them. The same way you had known Cassian was the Night Court’s leading general and Morrigan, the court overseer.

**

Things had changed after the events under the mountain. High Lord Rhysand had gathered the Court of Nightmares council, a tense meeting filled with bitter accusations thrown across the room. Keir and a few other noble lords, including your father, sat around the table, each one arguing fiercely over who did what under Amarantha’s rule.

As the heated exchange unfolded, your father’s loyalty was questioned, and the words left you unsettled. You had nearly spilled wine over one of the lords in your discomfort, hands trembling as you failed to properly grip the chalice.

But then, a dark shape emerged from the shadows, winding its way around your wrist like a silent guardian. The shadow stayed there, curling around you in such a way that was strangely comforting.

You had snuck glances at the shadowsinger then. 

Azriel stood just behind Rhysand, his face a stoic mask. His attention was elsewhere, either unaware or pretending to be, of the shadow that had strayed from him and wrapped around you.

A break was called. And then, Keir, always the one to provoke, threw an insult at your father. You had no control over your tongue, the words slipping from you without thought. It was in defense of your family but speaking out of turn was a dangerous thing for a female to do. Especially in this court. 

And though you had done it in your father’s defense, he did not return the favor. His face twisted in a mixture of disgust and disapproval, making you feel smaller than you ever had.

Keir’s face reddened with rage and as he glared at you, the shadow around your wrist tightened. Azriel’s eyes flashed, a cold, sharp stare locking onto Keir. It was the closest thing to protection anyone had offered you in this ruthless court. It left you stunned and wide-eyed. 

You had been quickly dismissed by your father then. The weight of your court’s cruelty pressed down on you, suffocating. You fled, finding an empty room, locking yourself away in a cold, lonely corner of the building.

And then the tears came. You didn’t even notice the darkness that had formed around you, so accustomed to the shadows yourself. But this wasn’t the same darkness. This one was… different. Comforting. Protective.

You could only stare at them in awe, one hand reaching upwards to touch the shadows.

But when the door creaked open, your hand fell back to your side. Fear had risen in your throat as your gaze shot to the tall figure in the doorway. You shifted backwards, your back hitting the stone wall behind you, fearing the worst. It was the shadowsinger. And he had come to punish you on behalf of your father.

But he did no such thing.

His eyes swept over the shadows surrounding you—his shadows. The mask of indifference he always wore slipped for just a moment. A faint furrow appeared between his brows, shock flashing in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, sending the shadows a look that had them slithering back to him, albeit reluctantly. “If they’ve scared you. They don’t normally do this…are you alright?”

You blinked the tears from your eyes. “You’re not going to punish me?”

His brow furrowed deeper, confusion crossing his face. “Punish you? For what?”

There was a flicker of recognition in his gaze, followed by a soft exhale. He studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. His shadows swirled around him, some curling around his ear, whispering to him. Whatever they whispered to him had his expression softening.

“If anyone needs punishment, it’s Keir. For having the nerve to talk to you like that.”

Azriel took your silence as an invitation. He lowered himself, slowly, attentive to the way your breath hitched. Finding no resistance from you, he flared his wings slightly to allow him to settle on the floor across from you. His boots brushed against your shoes, and he gave a quiet apology. Others had done much worse and yet, no one had ever apologized to you.

“I’m Azriel,” he told you with a small smile, quickly adjusting himself to the cramped space. “You’ve met my shadows. Though I control them, they don’t always listen. Sometimes, they follow their own will. I really hope they didn’t frighten you.”

You were still frozen in disbelief, but in that moment, something inside you shifted. A spark of hope—a spark you hadn’t known existed in the Court of Nightmares, didn’t know could exist.  

“They didn’t. They’re nice,” you admitted quietly, gaze following the movement of his shadows. Your eyes then met Azriel’s, surprised at the warmth you saw in them.

And then slowly, you felt your body relax. “I’m y/n…”

**

A shadow wrapped itself around your wrist, squeezing you gently, pulling you from your thoughts. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was the same one from that night.

“Sorry,” Azriel murmured sheepishly, the same way he always did when his shadows caught him off guard.  “They really like you.”

The shadow unraveled from your wrist, slowly and reluctantly. It returned to Azriel, the others that had begun to surround you doing the same.

“S’okay,” you shrugged, though a small wave of disappointment settled over you at the thought of his shadows acting on their own will and not his. “I like them too. My little friends, they keep me company during those dreaded court events. Them and Eris, though the latter isn’t exactly one I welcome…”

Azriel’s body tensed at the mention of the Autumn male.

“But it’s strange,” you continued, not sure why you were telling Azriel this. “Despite all the insults he throws my way, he’s somehow kinder than all the other males at court. Maybe Autumn males are–”

“Please, don’t ever pair Eris and the word ‘kind’ in the same sentence,” Azriel interjected, his tone filled with disbelief. “You have to be careful around him, Y/n. I don’t know why he gravitates toward you…” Your heart stuttered in your chest and Azriel's gaze hardened. “But he’s not to be trusted. If he continues to bother you…”

Was that… jealousy? The thought made your pulse quicken, but you kept your expression steady.

“He’s fine,” you said, your voice a little too casual. Azriel went still, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. You felt the heat rise in your neck, and you hastily added, “I mean—it's fine. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to,” Azriel insisted. He turned to face you fully, and your stomach fluttered at the intensity in his gaze. “I can handle him for you.”  

Azriel’s presence alone was enough to make anyone think twice before crossing you. It sure kept Keir from lashing back at you all those years ago and the handsy, sickening males away from you during court events. You knew he would handle Eris without hesitation. So you should’ve said yes, and accepted his offer. 

But, as the words settled on your tongue, you hesitated. You weren’t sure you wanted him to.

However strange and uncomfortable your encounters with Eris often were, there was something intriguing about him. Something that pulled at you despite his sharp words and caustic demeanor. It was almost like a game, a dance of sorts, and you found yourself drawn to it. To him, more than you cared to admit.

A small part of you wanted to continue this twisted back-and-forth with him. He was not a welcome companion but one whose absence would, much to your denial or disbelief, go noticed. The way he challenged you, made your pulse quicken, even when you didn’t want it to. The way his eyes lingered just a little too long, and how he always seemed to know exactly how to get under your skin…

No. You didn’t want Azriel to step in. Not yet. Not while this strange curiosity about Eris still simmered beneath your skin. 

“I can handle it,” you murmured, though the words felt more like a reassurance to yourself than to him. Your gaze trailed after the fae strolling along the river’s edge. Before Azriel could protest, you turned to him with a smile, changing the conversation. “Can we walk along the shore?”

The Sidra river was even lovelier up-close. With the sun beginning to set, the sky blushed in hues of pinks and oranges and you felt as if you were walking through a dream. A dream you didn’t want to wake up from. Azriel walked quietly beside you, the tension from earlier gone.

You breathed in deeply, reveling in the sweet mixture of fresh air and Azriel’s scent. The sound of water rippling against the shore was just as soothing as the early evening breeze. Your gaze fell on a rock ahead, its smooth surface glimmering in the fading light, and you quickly bent down to pick it up. 

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, watching as the stone sparkled like starlight cupped in your hand.

“It’s a rock,” Azriel said drily.

You couldn’t help but grin, lifting the rock to show him. “It’s not just any rock,” you corrected him. “It’s a rock from Velaris. It’ll make a perfect addition to my growing collection of–”

“Rocks,” Azriel finished for you, amusement dancing in his eyes.

He knew about your rock collection. Of course, he knew. How could he not? Azriel had been the one to enable it. It had started as a joke, a silly request from you when he had mentioned visiting Spring. You had asked for a souvenir, half expecting him to politely decline.  

"What could you possibly want from Spring?" he had asked. “A rock?”

And out of all the things you could’ve chosen, you had simply nodded your head. “Sure.”

The way he had returned from his mission, slipping a smooth rock from his leathers and placing it in your hand, had been so unexpected, so sweet. You’d gasped, unsure whether to laugh or cry. He had remembered. 

And when he mentioned going to Winter Court next, you had shyly grinned at him, asking for another “souvenir.” What had started as an innocent collection had become something far more significant to you. Azriel didn’t know but that rock from Spring was the first gift you had ever received in years–decades, almost.

You treasured those silly rocks, keeping them lined up neatly on your dresser. You even painted them with little designs—daisies on the rock from Spring, a tiny shell on the one from Summer, and snowflakes on the one from Winter.

“This may actually finish my collection,” you mused, slipping the rock into the pocket of your skirts, your smile soft.

“I thought I had brought you one already?”

“Must’ve slipped your mind,” you replied with a playful shrug of your shoulders.

Azriel’s expression shifts into one of mock seriousness. “Forgive me, my lady,” he said, bowing his head before his voice turned teasing. “What will I bring you now, then? I’ll be flying out to Dawn next week. You sure you don’t want another rock from there? Or perhaps, this time, a jar of dirt?”

You rolled your eyes, the motion automatic but immediately followed by a sharp pang in your chest as your heart seemed to freeze. A lady, especially one from your court, rolling her eyes at a male? No matter how familiar you could be with a male, a gesture such as this was dangerous and unforgiving.

But Azriel only chuckled, his gaze warm and unbothered. Relief rushed through you, leaving you momentarily breathless, though you tried to play it off with a dry tone. “Ha,” you said, your thoughts already drifting to other possibilities. “But, if you are going to Dawn…”

He tilted his head, eyebrows raising slightly as his lips curved. “Go on.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to a feather…”

His dark brows furrowed in confusion, and you felt your heart beat louder in your chest. “A feather?” he repeated.

You shrugged again, trying to look casual about it. “A feather from a swan from Dawn. They’re native to the court and mate for life, you know. Some see them as a symbol for love and fidelity. I’d like a feather so that I can add it to my Aphrodite altar.”

“I see.” Azriel’s gaze had turned thoughtful, clearly processing the information. There was a brief pause, and you held your breath, suddenly aware of how ridiculous your request might sound…

 “Y/n, are you… practicing witchcraft?”

You react almost too quickly, it’s suspicious. 

“No,” you said, shaking your head with a small laugh. Even though you had sought out the help of a witch not too long ago, something you’d probably take to the grave with you, given the failed results. Or the fact that this feather would be an offering given with intent to Aphrodite for luck and blessings in love…

”Well, not exactly, I just–it’s a…”

“I don’t think I want to know,” Azriel mused with a chuckle, saving you from whatever disaster of an excuse you could come up with. The sound of his laughter was like a release, the tension in your shoulders easing. “If it’s a Swan’s feather you want, then I’ll make sure I bring one to you.”

There was something in his tone, the certainty in which he said the words, that had warmth pooling in your stomach. It was the kind of warmth that spread quickly, making your whole body feel lighter and creeping up into your chest. 

You turned to look at him. “Really?”

“Really.”

Your feet faltered as the rush of emotions made you dizzy. You barely noticed the uneven ground beneath you, and before you could regain your balance, you felt yourself tipping forward. Azriel’s hand shot out, gripping your arm and pulling you steady against him.

Your breath hitched at the feeling of his touch, gaze falling to where his hand rested on your arm. Slowly, your gaze trailed upwards. Azriel’s gaze was soft, his eyes searching yours in that way that made your heart race. 

“Thank you,” you breathed.

“Of course.”

You were both so close now, you could feel the heat of his breath. The world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. The sound of the river faded, replaced by the pounding of your heart. His free hand brushed against yours, a touch that sent a spark skittering across your skin.

And then, it happened.

A sharp, sudden tightening in your chest.

It wasn’t the pleasant flutter you’d grown accustomed to in Azriel’s presence. No, this was something else entirely. A pull, intense and demanding, like an unseen thread yanking you backward. You gasped, flinching out of Azriel’s grip, who immediately let you go when he felt your resistance.

Your hand flew to your chest. Azriel’s brows furrowed in concern and his shadows stirred anxiously, circling you as if they could shield you from whatever had caused your distress. “Are you alright?”

“I… I don’t know,” you murmured, your fingers pressing against the spot where the ache had settled, desperate to soothe the inexplicable burning. “But I think I’m fine now. ”

You weren’t sure if you were reassuring him or yourself. But you pushed the feeling aside, turning back to Azriel with an uncertain smile.

He took a hesitant step closer, hand hovering over your shoulder. “Are you sure? I can take you to a healer–”

“No,” you immediately shook your head, eyes widening. Calling for a healer meant risking your father finding out you had not heeded to his order of staying put, of you not causing trouble. You’d rather suffer the consequences of whatever sickness had suddenly struck you than be left to deal with your father’s reproach.

“I’m okay. Could we–could we head back now?”

**

Azriel's pov

Worry continued to brew in Azriel’s mind as he watched you settle onto an armchair, hand still rubbing at your chest. His shadows twitched restlessly, curling tighter around him. You had always been easy to read but he found himself struggling to decipher the distant look in your eyes. You hadn’t even looked his way once since he winnowed you both back to the townhouse.

He parted his lips, ready to urge you to see a healer, despite your earlier protest. But a shadow curled itself around his ear and he made himself busy with the book in his hand instead.

The door to Rhysand’s study opened. Azriel’s shadows whispered to him as they noted the way you had stiffened the moment your father stepped out and forced a smile onto your face. He was always unsettled by your father’s indifference to you, his grip on the book he held tightening.

"Let’s go home."

Lord Damus’s voice was detached as he dumped the books in his arm into yours. Azriel noticed immediately that it was a smaller load than what you had arrived with, but that did little to ease him as you winced under the weight.

He moved instinctively to help you, but the harsh stare Rhysand shot at him from across the room made him pause. Azriel blinked, momentarily stunned by the anger that flashed in Rhysand’s eyes.

"Thank you for your time, Lord Damus. I wish you both a safe trip back," Rhysand said, his voice smooth and composed, contrasting the look he had sent Azriel.

Lord Damus bowed in respect and you did the same. Albeit, with a struggle, given all the weight in your arms. Some of Azriel’s shadows darted toward you, hiding within the shadows of the sitting room. They settled underneath the books you carried, helping you silently. And at the way your arms eased, so did Azriel’s.

It was short lived because as soon as you and your father disappeared, Rhysand turned back to him.

“My office. Now.”

Rhysand’s tone left no room for questioning or contemplating. Azriel’s shadows hissed at the sharpness but the shadowsinger yielded to his High Lord’s command. As he entered the office, the faint traces of Feyre and Nyx’s scent lingered in the air, but neither was there now. 

“Did something happen?” Azriel asked, senses on high alert.

Rhysand leaned against the front of his desk, his gaze locking onto Azriel. "I didn’t think I’d have to ask this twice, but... are you out of your mind?"

Azriel’s shadows swirled around him, speaking in tongues. He let out a sound, a mix of disbelief, defensiveness, and the all-too-familiar hint of rage that had been waiting just beneath the surface. Not again.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.

Rhysand’s humorless chuckle cut through the air. “Oh, trust me, I wish I was.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. 

“I can’t believe you would be so careless as to sneak her out of here when…”

“Her father has no clue,” Azriel shot back, trying to defend the choice, though even he knew it wasn’t enough.

“I bet your scent still lingers on her,” Rhysand snapped. “Do you know how dangerous that could be? For an unwed lady of her status to be caught alone with another male, to smell like another male? It could ruin her. I don’t know what you’re intentions are with her but Y/n is in love with you—”

“I know.” Azriel cut in sharply.

Rhysand’s expression darkened further, his voice hardening into ice. “So you do know. What’s your game here, Az? Because all I can think and worry about is how it will end for her.”

Before Azriel could respond, Rhysand’s voice rang out again, cutting through the growing tension like a blade.

“You will stay away from her.”

The words hit Azriel like a slap, his body going rigid as the words seemed to echo in his mind.  Because this was not his brother talking to him. It was his High Lord. His shadows were seething, reflecting the storm brewing inside. How had it come to this…again? The same damn warning, as though Azriel couldn’t be trusted to make his own decisions. 

First, it was Mor. Then, it was Elain. And now you.

Unbelievable. His lips twisted into a humorless, bitter smile then. “Should I just ask you for a roster of females I’m allowed to be with? It would save us both a lot of time and trouble.”

“I said it before and I’ll say it again.” Rhysand breathed in sharply, barely able to restrain his vexation. “And I pray to the Mother I won’t have to say it for a third time...”

Azriel’s shadows froze mid-whisper. The room grew quiet and unnervingly still. His wings twitched, as if they too, braced themselves. Because he already knew what was coming. 

But knowing didn’t make it any easier.

“If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall. Heck, I’ll offer to pay for it this time.”

And the words stung just as sharply as they had the first time.

“Just stay away from y/n.”

[series masterlist]

A/n: I had fun writing this <3 and I hope you can understand a bit more of why reader is madly in love with Az. I mean, who isn't? lol But does he like her back or simply like the idea of someone being in love with him for a change…😈

series tag list: @kaitttttttt , @nebarious , @daughterofthemoons-stuff , @justyouraveragekleemain , @tothestarsandwhateverend ,

@ratgirl2020 , @myromanempiree , @vanserrasimp , @itsswritten, @acourtofbatboydreams

@imjustagirl713, @paleidiot, @scarsandallaz, @marina468

@utterlyhopeful-fics, @bia-wayne-west

if you asked to be put on the tag-list and don't see your username, please remind me!

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444 @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits15, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith

[unreal-unearthing]

Really love the ‘fuck this, I’m going home to my wife’ energy Kol brings to the last season of the Originals.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi lashing out on his pregnant wife only to beg her for forgiveness later

Pairing: Sanemi x pregnant!reader

Word Count: 3,1k

Synopsis: Like every week, you find yourself on your way back from Shinobu's estate and your pregnancy check-up. Little did you know what horror awaits you at your own home with your husband almost killing two kids...

Warnings: Sanemi is mean in this one and I mean it, extreme hurt but also comfort in the end so don't worry, full Shinazugawa package regarding language and violence lol, not proofread because I have to leave now

Thank you sooo much for that cool request @itsmscoco and I'm sorry it took a while. I really hope you like what I came up with 🤍

You rub your minor belly. For a woman, a pregnancy should feel like a trip to heaven. After all, you are blessed with developing a child that is half you and half your husband. Oh, your beloved and surprisingly gentle husband who always makes sure that you get enough sleep, that you nutrition yourself properly. But even the wind hashira can’t do a single thing against your constant sickness and pain.

“Please try this out, (y/n). Don’t hesitate to come here again if you need something else. You really have an unfortunate pregnancy when it comes to nausea”, Shinobu comments gently while giving your belly a little massage.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited about the honor of caring for a child in my own body. But honestly, I’m so glad when this pregnancy is over”, you huff while taking a deep breath in.

Please, don’t vomit all over the insect pillar who’s just trying to help. You’ve been here what feels like everyday since finding out you’re pregnant. Well, to be exact, Shinobu is the one who suggested that you might expect a child.

Because of your never-ending sickness.

“Oh, there’s nothing to get wrong at all! After all, your pregnancy is a rather difficult one. But I’m sure Shinazugawa is taking good care of you!”

“He definitely does. My husband is an angel”, you reply in an instant.

You can’t wait to go back home. Even though your sleep-drunken eyes won’t be able to stay open longer than maybe a few hours, even though you weren’t able to catch a proper glimpse at Sanemi’s part in the on-going hashira training until now, you can’t wait to go back home. Back into your estate, back into the arms of your beloved husband.

“Not quite the codename I’d use for him, but that’s just what love does, right? I will send a kakushi along with you. Otherwise, Shinazugawa might show up and threaten me”, Shinobu jokes while helping you to get up.

“Thank you for your help. Again.”

You pull the insect hashira into a deep hug. How lucky you should consider yourself for the opportunity to call Shinobu your friend, that Sanemi laid his eyes on you. Out of all the countless women around, the ones with faces like porcelain and bodies so well-formed you can’t hold a candle against every single one of them. But still, he chose you.

“Come on, (y/n). Why are you crying?”, Shinobo whispers into your ear while rubbing small circles onto your back.

“I’m just a little overwhelmed from everything I guess”, you mumble against her comforting shoulder.

Just a few months ago, you would have laughed at anyone who told you that your life would turn out like this. Of course, you’ve lost countless good friends and family members on the way and living with a suborn husband like Sanemi isn’t always easy. But somehow, the two of you always make it work.

Right?

-at the wind hashira estate-

“We are almost there. Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just a little tired from walking, that’s all!”

Truth is, your feet hurt like hell. Shinobu reported about women who don’t even feel their baby until the second trimester. Why are your feet already swollen, your belly bloated, your guts constantly turning? And there’s still so much ahead.

“Looks like Shinazugawa-sama received a new bunch of trainees after the other corps members all landed in Kocho-sama’s hospital wing”, the kakushi next to you comments dryly.

“Was it really that bad?”

Of course you heard about the rather brutal training methods of your husband. After all, even the walls of his estate aren’t thick enough to stop every single scream from reaching your ears. But still…

“It was pretty bad. Some of the-“

Glass cracking. Screams from afar. Out of instinct, you pick up your pace until you dash towards your home, sweat now dripping from every pore. What happened? Is Sanemi alright? He wouldn’t leash out on one of his students like that. Something must have happened. A demon? No, it’s still daytime. But what is it?

“He’s back! He’s back! That cold-blooded man! Lie down and pretend that you’ve fainted!”, a blonde-haired boy screams while almost collapsing onto the floor.

“What are you talking about? What’s going on here?”, you press out.

Your lungs threaten to fail you, breath already tasting like pure iron.

Until your eyes find Genya.

Your guts twist and turn in every direction, almost force you to vomit all over the place. Genya shouldn’t be here. Out of all people, it shouldn’t be him. And who’s the boy next to him. That familiar scar, you’ve seen that boy before. Is it possible that…

“Kamado Tanjiro”, you breathe out.

Maybe that is even worse.

Your eyes dart around the area without an aim. Where’s Sanemi? Did he find them already? They need to leave before he finds out that they’re here, carry on with another hashira training.

“Please stop now!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouts while stretching out his arm in defence.

An uneasy feeling crawls up your spine, the dark claws of sickening foreshadowing. All you can do is standing death still right where you are and watch in sheer horror as your husband stomps out of your estate motion.

Is that your husband you love and adore, though? You know how untamed he can get especially when getting confronted with his painful past. It was never easy for him to see Genya join the demon slayer corps or realize that his mother could have been saved like Tanjiro’s sister.

But never in your entire life have you seen him like this. The empty shell of your husband, muscles tensed to the maximum and his empty orbs directed towards the two boys in front of him.

In this very moment, you’d trust him to actually kill them.

“What are you going to do? Are you planning to kill Genya?”, Tanjiro continues passionately.

Your glossy orbs are set on your husband. Would he really do something like that? What if you witness the father of your unborn child taking the life of two other human beings? Your heart can’t take it, knees threaten to fail you.

“Hell no, I’m not going to kill him. It would be easy enough to kill him, but since it’s against the rules and all…I’m going to ruin him beyond recovery!”

Until your blurry head finally makes a decision and allows your feet to run.

Straight towards the two boys.

Straight into the firing line.

Straight into the sight of your now maniac husband.

“You won’t do any of these things, you hear me?”, you jeer at him with your new-found courage.

“(y/n)”, Genya breathes behind you.

“How dare you to talk to innocent children like that, Sanemi?”

The man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, hands clenched into tight fists while taking a step towards you.

“Get lost. Right now”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

You swallow hard, all nerves now tingling in sheer horror. This is the first and last warning, without any doubt. The look on his stone-cold face tells you more than urgently that Sanemi isn’t playing, that he doesn’t want you here.

Maybe it’s best if you go back inside and pretend that nothing happened. He himself said that he won’t kill them, after all…

“I’m not leaving”, you bite back.

But that would mean leaving Genya alone. That would mean giving up all of your principles.

“Will you act out like this towards our child as well?”, you continue while growing bigger and bigger in front of the two boys.

He might be your husband, the love of your life. That doesn’t mean you’ll always have to do what he tells you, tough. Instinctively, you clench your hands into tight fists with your glossy eyes almost piercing through him. Enough is enough.

“If our child acts as dumb as you do, I sure as hell will!”

Oh.

Your heart drops to the floor when a nauseous wave of agony hits you with full force. Sanemi is and has always been a hot-headed man who never thought twice about the things he said. But never, not even once in your entire relationship he insulted you.

Until now.

“Is this really how you feel about me? We should support each other, you should listen to me as well as-“

“Spare me with that bullshit, (y/n)”, Sanemi spits at you.

“Get.out.of.the.way. Can’t you hear me?”

It’s like you stop living for a moment. All this time, you did your best to understand him and his grief. Everything Sanemi does comes with a logical reason behind it, even though it’s hard to see from time to time. But lashing out at you like that?

“Stop being so disrespectful to me right now. I am your wife-“

“Right now, you’re my problem”, he jeers back.

“And now get off my sight and let me finish this real quick-“

You don’t know what made you act the way you just did. Was it his cruel behaviour, the way his words cut through your heart like a thousand knives? Before your husband is even able to finish his sentence, your palm races towards his cheek with full force.

The world around you goes silent, frightful gazes glued onto you while you can’t stop your tears from falling anymore.

“Is this how you’re acting around your pregnant wife by now, how you’ll treat innocent children? If that’s the live you chose, I’m not a part of it anymore”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, the urge to get as far away from him as possible becomes unbearable. Your feet start sprinting towards the estate on your own, carry you into your now so empty-feeling bedroom.

And finally, you allow yourself to break down and cry.

Is this really the man you love, that you’d give your life for? Your shaky fingers caress your belly mindlessly.

You can’t stay here. Not when Sanemi showed you a completely different face today. Not when this place doesn’t feel like home anymore.

-a few hours later-

“Fuck!”, Sanemi cries out on top of his lungs while dashing towards Obanai over and over.

Why can’t he get your stupid words out of his mind? The way you stood there with tears in your eyes, how he was literally able to hear your heart crack when those damned words left his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, to drag you into the fuckery with his little brother and that Kamado boy.

But why did he say all those dumb things, then?

“You seem off, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly, hitting the wind hashira with full force again.

“I guess I fucked up”, Sanemi mumbles.

What if you won’t forgive him for today? Your last words haunt him since the moment you left him standing in the rain.

“I bet you can talk your way out of it-“

“Hell nah. I don’t think she wants to see me tonight.”

“Did you ask her, though?”

“Who the hell do you think you are anyway? You’re the one to talk, not able to confess your feelings to Mitsuri”, Sanemi barks at the man next to him.

“But yeah, maybe I should get going…”

Coming home never fuelled him with so much fright. What if you’re still angry at him, if you refuse to even talk to him? Or even worse, what if you’ll really leave him?

Sanemi’s guts turn in an instant, feet now picking up their pace with every step. He can’t lose you. Not you, the light of his life. Not when you are the only ray of sunshine in this rotting hell. What the hell did he do? The fact that he even raised his voice at you is unforgivable.

Finally, his fingers grab the door that leads to your shared bedroom, finally he’s able to make up for his mistakes of today-

His eyes widen in sheer horror.

You’re gone.

Right there where your head should rest, there’s absolutely nothing.

Panic starts rising up his chest, forces his heart down his throat.

Did you leave?

He yanks out of your shared room, eyes roaming around each and every corner of your estate. But you aren’t there. You aren’t here.

“My lady is at the love hashira’s estate.”

Sanemi darts up immediately, greeted by the oh so familiar voice of your personal crow.

“Is she fine, why did she-“

“With all due respect, I suggest you to control yourself before making any more insensitive comments to my lady-“

“Who the hell do you even think you are you-“

“Your earlier spoken words really troubled her and my lady certainly does not deserve that.”

Without another word, your crow disappears into the darkness of night again.

Sanemi swallows hard. Fuck, did he really hurt you that badly? He never wanted you to feel bad, never wanted to hurt you. Damn, he only wanted to show Genya and that Kamado boy their places. It shouldn’t have hit you. Out of all people, why did he have to hurt you?

“I need to tell her”, he mumbles under his breath before dashing towards the love hashira estate.

-at Mitsuri’s-

“I can’t believe Shinazugawa said something like this to you, (y/n)! You are super far away from being dumb, after all! Here, eat another pancake and stay as long as you want.”, Mitsuri babbles while handing you another plate.

Your dry eyes are barely able to stay open any longer. All the grief, explaining, fighting and crying did apparently really wear you out. Good for you Mitsuri’s estate is near by and you just know she’ll always open her arms for you.

“Thank you so much for taking me in, Kanroji. I really don’t deserve your kindness”, you sniffle.

“You have to be joking, (y/n)! It’s my duty as your friend to be there for you anytime you need me! And also, I-”

Three violent knocks on Mitsuri’s wooden door almost send you over the edge. It’s past after midnight, the time closer to the morning than evening. Who would knock on Mitsuri’s door this late at night?

“Do you think that’s a demon?”, you mutter in horror, both pairs of eyes set on the door.

“I don’t think so. Let’s see!”

Before you’re able to stop Mitsuri, she rips open the door.

And reveals no other than your husband.

“Sanemi”, you breathe out.

Tears start swelling up your eyes in an instant when a flood of memories crushes you all over again. Just a few hours ago, your husband made very clear that he doesn’t want to see you again anytime soon. How did he find out that you’re here?

“(y/n), can we…have a talk?”, he mumbles with icy voice.

“Do you want to leave me?”, you blurt out.

“What?”

Is that really how you feel, what you think of him? That he’ll turn his back on you after a fight? He did say all those nasty things to you, though.

“I think I’m going out and…cook!”, Mitsuri announces while sprinting out of the door, leaving you alone in the room with all that tension and him.

Him, the man you love more than anything else in this world. And also him, who broke your heart like he never did before.

“You have to be kidding me”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.

You turn away before you lose your composure completely.

“Why are you here, Sanemi?”

“Do you really think I’m here to dump you!? You, my pregnant wife!? You can’t be fucking serious about that!”

In the matter of seconds, you find yourself surrounded by his usual so comforting arms that now hurt like daggers against your skin.

“Please, let me go, I can’t do this ri-“

“(y/n), please.”

His suffocated voice forces your eyes to dart upwards.

Instantly, your heart drops to the floor.

Is this really your husband, crying against your shoulder while pressing your body against his?

“I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve said, I’m sorry for making you feel this way. I’d never leave you, not when I’m even lucky for calling you mine. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, I just…I just can’t stand them…”

“Sanemi…”

“And I get that I don’t deserve you and that I’m a jerk for hurting you. I know you could’ve had every man you wanted-“

“Sanemi!”, you snap at him, holding onto his face tightly.

“But you’re the one I want”, you finally cry out.

“But your words hurt me. Is this really how you feel about me? Do you really think I’m a burden?”

“I was out of my fucking mind for saying that to you! You’re my blessing, my everything, the sunshine in this rotting hell. You’re…You’re my wife, right?”

That innocent look on his now tear-soaked face runs shivers down your spine, reminds you that even though he acted out today, this man is still the Sanemi Shinazugawa you fell in love with years ago.

“I am your wife”, you press out before a new wave of tears haunts you down.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). So so sorry”, he mutters again and again while kissing every tear away that escapes your eyes.

“And I’ll never talk to you like that again, I promise.”

“Will you promise to not treat Tanjiro and Genya like that ever again too?”

Sanemi shifts his weight underneath you, his orbs growing hard again. Was this too much to ask for? No. Even though you love Sanemi’s rough side as well, he simply can’t do something like this again. Not when you’re his wife, not when you are expecting his first very own child.

“I will. But only if these jerks leave me alone”, he grumbles before giving you a passionate kiss.

“That might be manageable. I want to go home now…”

“No problem, I’ll carry you-“

“You really don’t have to carry me-“

“Oh, but I sure as hell will.”

“HAVE A GOOD NIGHT YOU TWO! AND DON’T ACT LIKE A JERK AGAIN, SHINAZUGAWA!”

“Did you have to tell her everything?”

“She’s my friend, Sanemi. Of course I had to.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt

[whimsiwitchy]

he's hooked (oneshot)

hugh jackman x actress!reader

summary: y/n is an actress in her early 20’s. after having the best night of her career, Hugh Jackman introduces himself. the two stars hook up in the venue's bathroom and for y/n it was nothing but a one night stand. However, Hugh becomes obsessed and can’t let her go so easily.

warnings: use of y/n, she/her pronouns, age gap (22/55), smut, protected vaginal penetration, dirty talk, reader is kinda cocky, hugh is very persistent, reader mentions age gap a lot, oral (f receiving), one use of daddy (in a playful way), bathroom sex.

authors note: y'all I am trying my absolute best to write smut. this is my second attempt and while i'm not super proud of it, I am proud of myself for trying. practice makes perfect I guess lol. anyways, I hope you enjoy. (sorry if it sucks butt) love y'all <33

 Tonight felt like a dream. It was the 97th Academy Awards and you had won your first Oscar for best actress. When your name was called, you were completely shocked. The category was filled with nominees that you had looked up to your entire life and you genuinely thought you had no shot of winning. You were completely honored to win such an award so early into your career. After the ceremony was over, most of the attendees made their way over to the Oscars Governors Ball, which was one of the few after parties that are held annually after the event. It felt surreal to be in a place full of Hollywood's biggest names and it was even crazier that you were now one of them. You were currently sitting at the bar waiting for a drink when a deep accented voice spoke. “Congratulations on your big win tonight. You deserve it.” When you look over to see who was speaking, you’re met with a very handsome Hugh Jackman. “Oh thank you. Congrats to you too, best actor.” Your tone is teasing yet sincere. “I’m Hugh.” He offers his hand to shake, which you take. “I know who you are, Mr.Jackman. I’m y/n.” You shake his hand firmly, letting it go right after. “I know who you are, Ms. y/l/n.” He joked back and you let out a small laugh. You look forward as the bartender sits your drink in front of you and you give him a quick thank you. From the corner of your eye, you can see Hugh’s eyes trail your body. “Did you just check me out?” You turn your head to face him. “It’s hard not to when you look that good.” Hugh says without missing a beat. “Aren’t you married? I don’t think your wife would appreciate you hitting on a twenty two year old.” You give him an accusing look. He lifts his left hand, showing off his bare ring finger. “I'm divorced, babe.” You almost miss the smirk that rests on his bearded face. 

“Hm. Well in that case, there are plenty of beautiful women here your own age here that would happily go home with you tonight. Maybe you should flirt with them.” You turn back to your drink, taking a long sip through the skinny straw. “None of them are as pretty as you. You’re the most gorgeous woman here by far.” You let out a laugh of disbelief. “Bye Hugh Jackman. It was nice meeting you.” You slowly climb down the tall ball stool and grab your drink. Before you can walk off, Hugh calls your name, causing you to turn back towards him. “I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime.” He smiles and you’d be lying if you said the sight didn’t make your heartbeat stutter. “You know that Real Steel was my favorite movie when I was like eleven. Does that make my age more apparent to you or do you not care?” He furrows his brows, pretending to think for a moment. “Hm. I don’t think I care very much.” You laugh, dropping your head. “You’re unbelievable.” He smiles. “So is that a yes?” “No.” You smile and walk away. 

—

Your friend Kayleigh was ranting to you about a technical issue that happened during her performance earlier in the night and you were trying your best to pay attention. Sometime in between the chat you had with Hugh and now, he had removed the black suit jacket he had on. The sleeves of his white button up dress shirt were rolled up, showing off his large forearms, his biceps peaking out slightly. It was overly distracting. “Girl what the fuck are you staring at?” She moves her head around trying to match your staring gaze. “Y/n please don’t tell me you're staring at that old man right now.” You give her a sheepish look. “God, straight people are so fucking weird.” She sighs. “It’s not weird. He’s kinda hot.” You admit. “Whatever you say. Why don’t you just go talk to him? I’m almost positive he’d fuck you if you ask.” You look back over to where Hugh is talking to some older woman, just like you had suggested. “I kinda already turned him down. Well, not for sex. He asked me to dinner.” Her face scrunches up. “Ew. He’s like older than your parents.” You laugh. “Is it bad that I find that hot?” She nods. “Yes y/n. That’s like really fucking weird dude.” You ignore her. “Should I go try to get him to fuck me?” You ask, genuinely wanting her opinion. “If that’s really what you’re into these days, go for it. I’m highly disgusted by you right now though.” You stand up and grab the small clutch you had with you. “Eh. You’ll get over it. You’ll be okay on your own for a little bit?” She gives you a thumbs up and you make your way over to Hugh and the woman he was speaking to. 

“Hi, sorry to interrupt.” You apologize and turn to Hugh. “Could I talk to you alone for a moment?” He looks confused and completely caught off guard. “Uh, yea.” He turns to the woman. “It was nice to catch up with you.” She says something back that you don’t catch, too busy staring at the vein that is basically jumping out of Hugh’s arm. “You wanted to talk to me?” His words bring you out of your thirsting trance. “Follow me.” You grab his hand, dragging him through a door and into a hallway. “Where are we going?” He asks, taken aback by your lack of plan. “I’m not sure.” You say as you continue to drag him. “Y/n slow down, we can talk here. There’s no one out here.” He stops walking and it makes you tumble back, his grip on your hand stopping you from continuing forward. “We need somewhere private.” His confused expression only deepens. “I don’t know how much more private this can get darling. If it’s really that much of a secret, we can stop talking if someone comes by.” He offers and you huff. “I don’t actually wanna talk Hugh.” 

“You’re confusing me here darling.” You wiggle your hand out of his and raise it to your head in frustration. “I want you to fuck me.” You look at him and his eyes go wide. “I’m sorry…what?” “If you don’t want to, that's fine, we can go back.” Your confidence began to falter. “Wait, that’s not what I'm saying.” 

“So you want to fuck me?” He takes a moment to think before answering.

“Yes.” 

“Then help me find somewhere private.” The two of you make your way down the never ending hallway, checking every door you see. Hugh opens a door and closes it, making his way down the hallway. Seeing as it was the only door that opened so far, you went to check it yourself and saw that it was an empty bathroom. “Why’d you keep going, this is perfect.” You shout at him. “I’m not fucking you in a bathroom.” He looks at you like that was obvious. “Well it’s not like we have any other options. Come on.” You go inside and wait for him. Once he’s inside you motion to the door. “Lock it.” You tell him. “We’re really doing this?” He asks, confirming. “Unless you don’t want to.” He takes a pause before speaking again. “Get your pretty ass over here.” He growls. 

You walk over to him slowly. He pulls you close to him once you’re in arms reach and you look up at him through your lashes. “Too damn sexy for your own good.” He whispers before leaning down and locking his lips with yours. The feeling of his beard against your skin was addicting. The kiss was slow at first, both of you testing the waters with each other. It was you who begged to enter his mouth, tongue sliding against his lips. You didn’t want to come off so desperate but you needed more from him. His large hands slid down to your ass, giving it a tight squeeze that has you gasping. His tongue dives into your mouth, exploring every crevice. It’s messy but it’s hot. “Jump.” He commands and you listen. His hands grab the back side of your thighs and he walks you over to the counter, sitting you down inbetween two of the sinks. His lips are back on yours the moment your body touches the cold surface. 

“You sure you want to do this baby?” He asks. “Positive.” You breathe out. Hugh bends down, sitting on both of his knees. Grabbing your ankle, he gives kisses to the skin that your heel doesn’t cover. He moves upward, leaving long sensual kisses up your calf and thigh, raising the end of your dress as he goes. As simple as the gesture was, it felt erotic, never having a man take this kind of care with you before. His lips move higher, curving with your leg until he’s hovering above your pussy. “You’re wet already baby?” His voice is cocky and if it weren’t for the heat of his breath making your mind foggy, you would’ve called him out on it. He gives the wet spot on your panties a shy kiss. The act has you letting out a quiet moan, sounding louder from the echo of the bathroom. He slips a finger behind the cotton of your underwear and tugs at it while looking up at you. “Can I take these off?” He asks, finger still tugging the fabric dangerously close to where you need him the most. “Yes.” It’s breathy but it gets the job done because Hugh moves his head up, grabbing the top of the fabric with his teeth. He starts to tug your panties down, using one of his hands to help the other side. You lift your body slightly as Hugh pulls them down farther. When they’re all the way off, Hugh sits back with your panties hanging from the big toothy smile he's wearing. The sight was definitely going to be what you pictured the next time you touched yourself. 

“Oh fuck me..” He grabs your panties from his teeth and slides them into his back pocket. “Mhm. not yet, baby. Wanna eat your pretty pussy first.” He leans back in between your legs, lips ghosting over your heat. “So perfect.” He whispers as he kisses each pussy lip three times before finally kissing your clit. “Mhmm, please Hugh.” His tongue slides from your opening to your bud teasingly slow. You can feel his beard scratching the sensitive skin but it only adds to the pleasure. He swirls his tongue around your clit a few times before sucking it into his lips, the feeling causes you to jerk your hips. His hands, that were gently holding your ankles, moved up to hold your hips down. His mouth moves down to your opening, tongue plunging in and out a few times before moving back up to your clit. You hadn’t even noticed that one of his hands moved from your hip until you felt one of his fingers dip into you slowly. He curls the finger and moves it back and forth at an unexpectedly fast pace. Before you can adjust to it, he’s adding another finger and it all becomes too much. “Fuck..I’m gonna cum.” Your words are mixed with moans. He doesn't let up, his tongue and fingers speeding up and it has you cumming hard around his fingers, loud moans feel the air. He gives your pussy one last kiss before leaning back and removing his fingers. When you can fully see his face, it is a sight to see. His salt and pepper beard is covered in your slick, lips glossy. 

“Want you to see how good you taste darling.” He says while moving his two fingers to your lips. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, taking his fingers in your mouth slowly. Hugh hisses as you suck around his fingers, tongue swirling around each one.  Once you're confident that they’re clean, you grab his wrist and take his fingers out of your mouth with a pop. “You still gonna fuck me old man or did you already cum in your pants?” You joke with him. He stands up, both knees popping in the process. Just as you're about to laugh and make fun of him some more, he grabs you off of the counter to stand you up. He turns you around and bends you over the counter. “You keep talking like you weren’t the one staring at me for an hour before asking me to fuck you.” He goes to undo his belt buckle and you shiver at the sound. You're looking back at him through the mirror. “Whatever.” You reach over to your clutch and open it, grabbing a condom. You reach back and hold it back to Hugh. “Here, put this on.” He grabs it with a questioning look. “Why were you carrying condoms?” You roll your eyes and rest your head in your hands, elbows propped up. “Can you mind your business and fuck me already. I’m getting bored.” You were lying right through your teeth. You were far from bored but you wanted to keep the whole ‘hard to get’ game going a little longer.

You watch him open the condom and see his arms move as he rolls it down his cock. As bad as you wished you could see him fully but it was kind of exciting- not knowing what you were about to get. “How do you want me baby?” He asks, looking at you through the mirror. You get a small glimpse of his dick as he slaps it across your ass. “Give me all you got daddy.” He smirks and shakes his head at the name. He lines up his member with your entrance and slides in slowly. Once he’s bottomed out, he doesn’t wait long before he’s slamming back into you. The stretch stings slightly and you hadn’t expected him to be so big. He slaps your ass hard and you yelp in response. You drop your head down at the pleasure. “Nuh uh. Look at me while I fuck you baby.” You raise your head to look at Hugh through the mirror again. “That’s it. Look at how pretty you look getting fucked by an old man.” You couldn’t help but listen to him. Hugh was fucking you dumb and you couldn’t think straight. His balls hitting your clit was what sent you over the edge for a second time. “Please don’t stop Hugh mhmmm fuck baby. I’m cumming, please don’t stop, baby.” Your moans match the rhythm of his hips, each thrust knocking the air out of you with its force. “Just like that sweet girl. Fuck not gonna last much longer.” Even after your high, the pleasure continues as Hugh chases his own. You push your hips back, meeting his thrust. The act makes Hugh moan. “Mhm, I'm gonna cum baby.” His hands squeeze your hips, thrusts getting sloppy as he cums. 

The two of you stay quiet as you both freshen up and try to make it less noticeable that you two left to have sex. You push yourself up onto the counter, sitting lazily as you watch Hugh toss his hair around. “Can you kiss me again?” You ask Hugh. He smiles and walks over to stand in between your legs. He grabs your cheeks and kisses you. “Mhm. You're a good kisser.” The compliment is sincere. You could kiss his lips for hours if he’d let you. He hums. “So, are you gonna let me take you out now?” You look in his eyes and smile. “Hugh we can’t. This was fun and it was good sex but that’s all it was.” “Why can’t we?” He’s quick with his words. “It’s just not practical Hugh. I think you're handsome and you seem like a sweet guy but I'm too young for you. The press would tear us apart quicker than we got together.” You explain. “Fuck the press. Let me take you out and get to know you at least.” You sigh. “I’m sorry Hugh. I can’t.” You offer him a small smile. “I’m not gonna stop trying. You’re too good to lose.” He kisses your cheek. “I should get back out there. I have a friend waiting for me.” He steps back, letting you hop down from the counter. “Bye Hugh Jackman.” You give him a small peck on the lips before leaving the bathroom. 

�� 

A few weeks later, you were on set for the newest film you were working on. You’d just arrived an hour earlier and were sent to your trailer to get ready for the first scene. When you walked through the door, you were greeted with a bouquet of wildflowers and a note that read:

I can’t stop thinking about you. -H.J (xxx) xxx-xxxx

tag list: @prettycoolgirl, @nonamevenus, @godlypresley, @pedroscurls, @evasmlp, @bluetimeombre, @sue8724, @princessanglophile, @kellyxo1, @ccmoonshine, @hughverine, @chronicallybubbly, @realhotgirlshitah, @aurlavr, @almosthumongousfunsblog, @wolviesgirl, @flirtyjen, @lilgrinchbitch, @majesticalcocoa, @liamdasimp, @needz1nk, @squishyfruitloop, @afra-ww, @veru-boom

[starkwlkr]

bitch, i’m a mother! | f1

female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) i like that almost every story i read about a female driver her team ends up being porsche and I’m not mad about it :) so for this fic, the reader is driving for porsche lol also I’m just making up names for the engineers and team principal. also because I’m in love with charlie hunnam, my man is gonna make an appearance

part 1 part 3

Y/N BEING THE MOTHER OF EVERY DRIVER IN THE PADDOCK

“Y/n is so great, you’re going to love her. She’s the best.” Oscar listened to his new teammate as they walked into the Porsche hospitality. The rookie immediately felt out of place with him being the only one in papaya colors while Lando was in casual clothes.

“Hey, Lando!”

“Lando! How’s it going?”

“Norris, hey!”

Lando greeted most of the Porsche team with a smile while Oscar nodded at them. “I hang out here sometime if you couldn’t tell.” Lando joked.

“So if I can’t find you in Mclaren . . ”

“There’s a big chance I might be here.”

Oscar nodded once again. “Noted. Where’s Y/n?”

As if on cue, Y/n walked into the Porsche hospitality with her team principal by her side. Once she spotted Lando, she called out his name. As the Brit approached the driver and team principal, he gave her a big hug. It was the start of the 2023 season and they hadn’t seen each in a while, of course he was going to give her a hug.

“I’ll see you around, Y/n. Nice to see you, Lando, and you must be mclaren’s rookie. Welcome to F1, I’m Adam.” The Porsche team principal greeted Oscar.

“Thank you—” before Oscar could continue, Y/n cut him off.

“I’ve heard so many great things about you! And you’re an Aussie too! What is it with Mclaren and Aussies? Whatever, I’m glad you’re here, Oscar. I hope you enjoy yourself. Have you eaten yet? I was just in my way to get breakfast. Let me tell you a secret, the Porsche hospitality has the best food in the paddock.” Oscar instantly felt at home with the female driver. She had a comforting presence that Oscar immediately took notice of.

“Told you she’s the best. Just wait until it’s your birthday. She bakes you a cake.” Lando told Oscar.

The entire grid was together for their drivers briefing early in the morning. After going over every detail of the upcoming Grand Prix, the race director decided to let the drivers voice their concerns.

“Does anyone have any questions?”

Y/n raised her hand. “I wanna know who banned the pit wall celebration.”

“Anyone else?”

“Yeah, I’d like to know as well.” Lewis added.

“We can discuss pit wall celebrations at a later time. Excuse me, I am needed somewhere else.” The race director excused himself.

“Don’t worry, I don’t care about being banned. I’ll be there like a proud mom taking millions of pictures of you when you win.” Y/n whispered to Lewis as she layed her head on his shoulder.

“And I’ll be doing the same when you win.” Lewis replied.

“What about when I win? I also want millions of pictures taken of me and the exact same chocolate cake you baked for me for my birthday a year ago. Extra sprinkles please.” Lando smiled innocently.

“Fine, win first then I’ll bake. Shouldn’t be that hard unless you got a tractor for a car.” Y/n teased. “I love you, Lando. Of course I’ll take millions of pictures of you when you win.”

It was a perfect day to race in Silverstone. Like always, Lando had his family in attendance. He was in the mclaren garage when he spotted Y/n on one of the tvs being interviewed by Lissie.

“Hey, that’s my grid mum!” He told his engineer as if his engineer didn’t already know. His smile quickly faded when a blonde man appeared behind Y/n in sunglasses. Lando then watched as the man’s name appeared on the tv.

Charlie Hunnam, actor.

Who was he and why was he with his grid mom?

“Hey, that’s the dude from Sons of Anarchy! My wife watches that series.” Lando heared someone say. He continued to watch the screen as Lissie asked Charlie a question about Y/n.

“She’s incredible, absolutely amazing. I’m happy I finally get to see her talent in person.” Charlie replied, smiling at Y/n which made her blush.

“He’s British . . ” he mumbled.

After Lissie thanked Y/n and Charlie for the interview, the camera kept rolling on them as they walked away. That’s when Lando saw Charlie hold Y/n’s hand then pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“She’s dating a British man and she didn’t tell me?!”

Lando immediately walked out the garage and straight to the Porsche garage. He had a strong feeling Y/n would be showing her new lover around so he started there. He soon spotted the couple talking with the Porsche team principal, Adam.

“Oh, hey Lando! I was about to look for you. I want you to meet Charlie.” Y/n excused herself from Adam and introduced Charlie to her grid son.

“It’s very nice to meet you, mate. Y/n had told me a lot about you.” Charlie smiled.

“Yeah, I’ve heard nothing about you. Nada, zero, not a single thing, zilch.” Lando then turned his attention to Y/n. “I think we need to talk.”

“Okay . . ” Y/n said confused as she turned to Charlie to tell him she would be right back. Lando took her hand and dragged her to a corner away from Charlie. “Lando! What’s wrong? Are you nervous about today?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”

Oh.

“You always tell me everything and now I kinda feel betrayed. Especially when i also found out he’s British!” Lando said dramatically.

“Lando, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it just sorta happened. We met a few months ago and he’s made me the happiest ever since. I wanted to introduce you properly today.” Y/n explained.

“He makes you happy? Like genuinely happy? Because if he doesn’t I will run him over repeatedly.” Lando warned.

Y/n laughed and brought Lando in for a hug. “I know you would, but there’s no need for that. I think he’s the one.”

“Before you leave, there’s actually one more gift for you and you don’t have to guess who it’s from.”

Logan was confused, but happily accepted the gift. It was the annual F1 secret santa and he had just finished unwrapping his present. A gift wrapped perfectly with a blue bow was placed in front of him. The tag read ‘From Y/n’ in neat handwriting.

“Thank you, Y/n! I don’t even want to open it, it’s wrapped so good.” Logan chuckled.

Every year, anyone who got a nicely wrapped gift knew it was from Y/n. And any year that someone new entered the season, Y/n would give them a gift during secret santa. She did it for Lando, George, Alex, Charles, Yuki and Guanyu when they were rookies and now she was doing it for Logan and Oscar. She had even sent Nyck a present as well, she wished he was in the paddock doing secret santa as well though.

“Okay, I’ll open it, I’m too curious.” Logan finally unwrapped the present and saw it was a Miami Heat jersey singed by LeBron James. Logan almost freaked out when he saw the signature.

“Holy shit! Wait sorry, I can’t curse, but holy shit!” He took the jersey out of the box and admired it. “This is incredible.”

“You love it?” He heard the familiar comforting voice of Y/n from behind him. “I hope it’s the right size.” She joined Logan in front of the camera.

“It is, don’t worry,” he chuckled as he gave her a hug. “Thank you so much, I love it.”

“I think you just adopted another son.” The camera man told her.

“I love all my grid sons equally.”

[kedsandtubesocks]

game changer

MLB pitcher!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: back from your first semester of grad school your parents lovingly drag you out to celebrate with an old family friend - but what unfolds there (and after) cracks you wide open

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, dad’s friend!Joel, unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but is a drinking aged adult & Joel is in his early 50’s), light use of gendered language, yearning & flirting, some light angst, brief alcohol consumption, masturbation (f), smutty thoughts, heavy makeout, spicy themes, allusions to smut (p in v), Joel’s dirty talk, one use of “good girl,” one light ass smack, reserved but soft!Joel, start of secret relationship, lots of baseball talk

word count: 9.1k (I’m sorry)

a/n: i know, i know another non-typical AU for Joel but I blame my sports girlie heart & baseball season so here we are lol big thank you to @swiftispunk for always putting up with my sports ramblings LMAO im so sorry Han ily, special thanks to @burntheedges @undercoverpena @tightjeansjavi @msjarvis because this truly wouldn’t be here without y’all - you don’t know how much you babes mean to me & I can’t thank y’all enough…now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

You barely have any solid memories of Joel Miller, even if he was your dad’s oldest friend. And if you were being honest, you remember his brother Tommy more who smiled so warmly and seemed to radiate warmth.

Now you stand before Joel Miller’s face on the side of the Globe Life field along with the rest of the Texas Rangers professional baseball team.

It’s a cool evening in Arlington. Everyone seems to bask in the weather that feels perfect for a night of baseball.

Home from your first grad school semester, you didn’t think you’d be going to a game. But your parents explained how good the tickets were, and that even if you didn’t care about the game, you could just enjoy the stadium. So with the promise of free food and a nice night out, you were sold.

Now you’re here.

“Yesterday Joel said to head to the side entrance, that’s where we can check in.” Your dad eagerly explains and stunned you simply follow along like a confused duckling.

The sea of jerseys sweeps you into a sports wave until you’re deposited in a new space. Your jaw almost drops.

The VIP suites sit at the very side edge of the field, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen.

The seats are incredible. Everything feels deluxe but comfortable. Someone calls out to your mom, and soon enough the rest of the Miller family approaches.

Tommy’s married now and his wife Maria is lovely, so is their baby. Joel’s daughters, Sarah and Ellie, are older. Time sucker punches you in the gut seeing how much time has passed, but you warmly greet everyone. You realize how long it really has been since you saw any of them.

You greet everyone warmly and appreciate all their surprised welcome seeing you back.

“Joel’s glad y’all were finally able to make it. Been talking about it since yesterday.” Tommy explains.

“Yeah us too! Just worked out that we all could come out and enjoy this with someone back home now.” You mom teases, but it’s warm.

Even though you were cities away, the new workload just kept you so busy.

You’re grateful to be here too. Even though your mind still swirls trying to grasp all of this.

You knew your dad’s friend made it big as a professional baseball player. Joel and his family left Austin to move to Arlington after he signed for the Rangers. So you rarely saw them. But with your mom’s job recently relocating here, your dad talked non stop about maybe seeing more of the games. It never really clicked that your family knew a professional sports athlete. Plus you never cared too much for sports to even look more into it.

Now as the game starts with a wild explosive and electric opening, you feel like you’ve slipped into another reality.

Then Joel’s entrance arrives, and your heart jumps out of your chest. The stadium erupts in a wild frenzy. The music for his arrival is western themed, grand and epic.

“All of this is because the league calls him Cowboy Miller.” Your dad explains.

The nickname was given to him not just because of his very southern twang, but Joel’s cold demeanor on the mound along with his wild style of pitching. All this led to him being deemed a Cowboy.

You understand why.

A serious air of power radiates from Joel while he approaches the mound.

Wearing a jersey with the number two on it, he’s older, more distinguished than the last time you remember him. Grays pepper his beard and the shadow of his baseball cap highlights the wrinkles flowing across his face.

He’s handsome, utterly gorgeous. His shoulders look broad, pure striking mountains, in his white jersey.

It’s like your mind finally registers and settles into the reality he’s a man, a full grown and incredible man.

And he really is incredible.

Even though he’s older for a pitcher, he still possesses dazzling talent. You even clap loudly when he strikes one of the batters out.

Your eyes never leave him. Joel sternly staring down the batter is terrifying. His legs look strong as he whips the ball fast to the home plate. Your eyes can’t help but flicker to his ass when he walks back to the dugout.

He’s gorgeous.

But cold reality crashes into you when your dad brightly yells. Joel is your dad’s friend, and that thought sours the bubbling feelings in your chest.

So you try focusing on the game, which actually turns out to be rather fun. The vibe of the stadium, along with the atmosphere of the game itself, is easy to melt into.

At one point someone gets a hit off Joel and he has to run to cover first. He’s surprisingly fast. Seeing him catch the ball, get the out, is so impressive and hot as fuck.

After that the Rangers switch pitchers.

As he leaves the mound, the stadium cheers at Joel’s exit. Very politely he nods, raising his hand in a quick goodbye to everyone. Then he scans the crowd.

It’s admirable seeing how he instantly finds where his family is. Joel’s roughed face melts soft with a small crooked grin hearing the applause they give him. He even spots your dad proudly cheering.

Joel’s eyes then lock with yours. Still walking towards the dugout, his face stays on you while his focus narrows in a cloudy confusion like he’s trying to recognize you.

Then his eyes go wide as realization sinks in.

You weakly grin back. It’s all you can do before Joel is fully gone from your line sight. Your heart thumps erratically within its cage.

The Rangers unfortunately lose by three. Once the game ends, you decide to swing by the merch store.

“Guess the game made you a fan huh?” You mom perks up noticing you eyeing the jerseys.

You shrug easily with an eased grin.

After this the Rangers have a five game stretch at home.

You only know because after the game you check for all things about the team, about Joel. You haven’t brought yourself to look at any videos of Joel yet. But you did discover from the team's instagram that he has one too.

Early the next morning, still lounging in bed, you scroll through Joel’s instagram page. It seems very professional, like it’s run by a social media manager primarily using it to promote Joel without being too personal.

You’re not paying attention, still a bit too focused on your phone, when a knock comes at the door.

Your face scrunches up confused. Then terror sucker punches you when you see who’s at the door.

No way.

Opening the door Joel stares at you, but this time wearing striking thick black rimmed glasses. They make him incredibly distinguished. Instead of seeming like a professional baseball player you’re reminded of a studious professor. And without a baseball cap on, you’re given sight of his soft glorious curls and the light gray streaks dancing among them.

He’s knockout beautiful.

Of course, you’re still in your mismatched lounge clothes and barely look like you’ve left bed.

He says your name, greeting you with a curt nod. You swiftly greet him with an awkward hello.

“Are you going for like a Clark Kent thing?” You blurt before you can stop yourself.

Joel’s face scrunches up as he sighs.

“Gotta take a break from my contacts s’all.” He admits with a grumpy reply.

But it’s his thick twang, the familiar southern accent - that sweeps you breathless.

“How do they even let you pitch?” You lightly tease, and

Joel rolls his eyes.

“Good to see ya too.” He rumbles, finally greeting you.

Now realizing he’s still standing in your doorway, you let him in.

Joel explains how he wanted to come by, visit your folks, catch up, and thank them for getting to stop by.

You’re the one early thanking him.

“The tickets were incredible. And you did amazing the other night.” You add sincerely.

“Oh, yeah thanks. Glad we won.” Joel nods.

“So they let you just roam around?” You ask slightly stunned still seeing him here in your family kitchen.

Joel scoffs. “Ain’t gotta be at the stadium till later.”

“So, was uh…surprised to see ya at the game.” His tone now reeks of trying to just make small talk.

Weakly you grin back explaining it was a nice change from your days on campus.

“So…back from school, huh.” That awkward thick small talk tone of his gets worse especially as he asks how’s it going and what you’re doing.

For being a talented professional pitcher, right now he simply seems like just some guy…

Just your dad’s pal.

The thought brings a strange acidic taste in your mouth.

You explain school is going good and how you’re here just visiting until the next semester starts up again.

Politely he asks what you’re going to school for. You tell him about your program, explaining all the classes you’re taking and even about the undergrad classes you help TA for.

Joel nods, quiet. You wonder if this sounds boring to a man who professionally plays baseball everyday.

“You’re damn smart.” He then whistles low, and his compliment jumpstarts your heart.

“Haven’t read a book since… shit can’t even remember when.” Joel muses.

“What? They don’t have you take baseball quizzes for pitching?” You joke, but it falls flat. Joel just gives you a dull look.

However his lips twitch faintly, like he’s fighting a grin, and it makes you grin.

“Though, I’ve heard you could maybe work on your slider pitch.” You add.

From the clips you’ve seen and the comments you’ve read, that's the one thing others have commented on, along with how unbearably handsome he is. ESPN even named him one of sports top most eligible bachelors.

“Oh?” Joel’s eyebrows rise up fast. Crossing his hands over his chest, Joel turns towards you more.

“Suddenly you’re a sports analyst now, huh?” The way his voice perks up confidently, matching your edge of playfulness, causes something to get stuck in your throat.

“Y’gonna start telling me how to pitch too? Just like your old man used to.” Joel adds still with that same tone and even chuckles.

But his words slice through you. Swallowing hard, you steel yourself tight.

Thankfully the sound of the front door unlocking arrives. Your parents are home.

“You’re fantastic, Joel. Glad I got to see it live.” You tell him earnestly looking him straight in the eye, as if to stare him down and remind him unwavering you’re a grown adult. Even if you’re in lounge shorts and holey t-shirt, you try holding your head high with as much grace as you can.

With that you head to tell your parents Joel is here then quietly slip back to your room.

Eventually your mom knocks on your door and pops her head in.

“There’s another game tonight. Wanna go?” She offers.

You decline, explaining you want to rest and catch up with a few shows you’ve been neglecting. Thankfully neither of your parents pressure you to join them.

With the house to yourself, you now search for as many videos of Joel you can.

Even slowly starting to understand baseball at a base level, you realize Joel ‘Cowboy’ Miller really is spectacular. You hear about his time playing for The University of Texas and how adored he is by his alma mater.

Then heat crawls up your chest when you see clips of him drenched in sweat, heavily breathing, or even licking his lingers to help with the ball grip.

You quickly turn the videos off before you get yourself worked up.

This has to be just a simple infatuated infestation. You simply need to try to shake it off.

The last home game the Rangers play the Minnesota Twins and Joel isn’t pitching. You again decide to sit this game out. You just have to detox yourself of Joel Miller.

Until you’re invited to a dinner cookout at his home. You thought about maybe playing sick, but with how hungry you are, you see this just as an opportunity to get a nice meal.

Your dad casually mentions Joel’s house has a pool, a nice bonus. He just forgot to mention how huge the Miller house would be.

Though gorgeously grand, it’s still surprisingly cozy. In the backyard you spot Joel at the grill and it makes your head spin. The weathered old burnt orange Texas longhorn shirt he wears looks cozy and casual, sits on him beautifully highlighting his shoulders.

You slip into the pool hoping it will cool you off. But your eyes always find Joel who now laughs with your dad.

Joel’s eyes suddenly flicker to yours, catching you staring red handed. Immediately you sink back into the water.

There’s more people here than expected and you feel a bit out of place. After drying off, you decide to head inside for a drink.

The soft Texas evening illuminates the home in a gentle glow. The music from outside floats in a soft hum making the room feel like it’s underwater.

Ellie told you the house was free for you to roam and from the quick tour she gave, you caught a glimpse of something you want to see more.

So letting yourself maybe take another peek, you walk back to the small alcove carved in the wall. It’s honestly a rather quiet achievement exhibition compared to other grand trophy rooms you’ve imagined.

There are honestly more pictures of Sarah and Ellie, along with Tommy and the rest of the Miller clan, decorating the main hallway of the house. All of it suits Joel.

His UT longhorn jersey is framed on the wall. There are a few awards clustered together, a couple of magazine covers where he looks so dashing in his uniform.

But what makes your heart float are the framed drawings of Joel with a baseball on the mound that range from adorable scribbles to a rather good pencil sketch. These had to be Ellie and Sarah’s work.

“If you’re thinkin’ about stealin’ somethin’ maybe go for the jersey. I can always get another one.”

Joel’s drawl trickles out, and you almost jump out of your skin. Turning to the side he walks to where you are. You hate how exposed you feel just being caught in his gaze and also obviously browsing in his home.

“Nah, I was hoping for a World Series ring to steal and sell but.” You shrug playful, knowing now he’s gone to the Series but never won.

Joel makes a low hissing sound like he’s injured.

“Damn, y’hit low.” He chuckles low.

You grin triumphantly.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get a ring someday.” You say simply.

“Sound sure about that.” He replies.

“Cause it’s true.” You nod. “You’re pretty great.”

Even with your limited knowledge of baseball, it’s easy to see how great he is. Joel is incredibly talented, a shining star stitched in accomplishment. Yet you can tell hasn’t let it go to his head. He’s anchored by his loved ones, and it’s admirable. You even tell him that.

“I…thanks.” He stumbles for a moment, deep dark eyes a bit cloudy as he searches your face with his voice thick and rumbled.

“What game has been your favorite?” You suddenly ask, wanting to know more about him.

His eyebrows furrow and his deep eyes glaze over a bit distant, creating a face of thought that looks adorable.

Then he nods with a soft grin remembering.

“One of the first games the girls gotta go to.” He paints a picture of seeing his daughters, sitting with their uncle Tommy, wearing too large adorable Texas Rangers jerseys.

“One of the best games I ever played.” He adds gently.

He really is a rare beauty of a man with a gilded heart of gold.

“And you? Your folks talk about ya nonstop. Tell me about grad school. And none of that simple ‘it’s good’ crap.” The quick playful mimic he does of your voice makes you laugh warm and bright.

So you tell him about your favorite moments from lecture and the fondness you have for simply embracing subjects you love so much.

Joel stares fully focused on you. You swear his eyes twinkle like stars might be sowed right in his deep earth depths.

He opens his mouth, eager to continue the conversation. Until the kitchen comes alive with more people entering inside. The bubble breaks, but electricity still brews under your skin.

The next day the Rangers have a game at Globe Life Field you go.

Even if Joel isn’t pitching, you want to experience this world he loves so much. You’re however surprised to find Joel is starting.

Your dad explains how one of the pitchers planned for today had to rest. So Joel will simply be the opener before the rest of the bullpen steps in.

Your heart doesn’t rage wildly as it did like seeing him the first time. Now you feel almost drawn to Joel. You focus on his stance on the mound, so disciplined and almost hauntingly serious.

The Arizona Diamondbacks batter hits the ball solid. It flies straight at Joel, and fear sinks its fangs into you.

Until with fast reflexes Cowboy Miller catches the ball eased. You and the stadium erupt wild.

The Rangers win one to four. On the high of the game, you head to the jerseys again in the shop.

“You should get one!” Your mom urges.

Your fingers itch, almost begging you to grab the jersey that says Miller on it. But something continues to hold you back.

On the drive back home, you now see all the great reaction clips and memes of the game. There's a particular one of Joel catching the ball that includes a great western music overlay, like he’s a hero in an old cowboy movie.

Feeling brave, you send the reel to his Instagram profile. You even add underneath the message “now you just gotta work on that slider pitch.”

You send it. Think, hell at worst the poor social media manager will see it and not even give it the time or day. He must get so many messages anyway.

When you get home, you see the message has been read.

But also, a new profile has followed you.

JM_8712

The profile also sent you a message.

JM_8712: ain’t nothing wrong with my slider

No way.

This can’t be who you think it is. You message back saying this possibly can’t be the real Joel Miller because he doesn’t seem like the type to even know how to send a gif.

JM_8712: think ur so funny huh

The account sends a simple gif of someone rolling their eyes.

Then another message flies in.

JM_8712: ur dad get those damn nachos he kept bitchin about with Tommy?

It feels like one of Joel’s changeup pitches knocks you out.

Because it’s really him messaging you. When you even go to double check the blank profile just to make sure, it barely follows more than twenty people and you spot Ellie and Sarah’s accounts among those profiles.

Warmth unfolds from your chest, dangerous and electric. This is Joel’s personal private account.

Unknowingly this all kicks off something you never thought would have ever started. You and Joel start talking.

The messages flow between you and him, back and forth, at first just talking about the games. Then, when the Rangers leave to travel, the messaging increases.

Joel sends you pictures of the places he travels, the food he eats, the vacant stadiums he gets to enjoy.

You devour it all with a greedy eagerness. However it dawns on you that you’re sliding down a slope too slippery to stop.

For the rest of the summer you earnestly check your messages on the app.

One evening, on a stormy delayed game against the Dodgers, your messages don’t send through. The weather is getting worse in Los Angeles.

“They’re gonna reschedule the game. Storm’s not letting up.” Your dad comments glumly.

You just hope Joel is alright.

Instagram finally alerts you of a message and your heart jumps.

Joel.

JM_8712: sorry connections shit

Then he simply sends you his phone number.

You wonder if you’re seeing things.

Trying to keep calm you text the number a simple message asking if he’s alright.

When your text alert chimes, it rattles your brain.

Yeah im good thanks

Then another message follows. It’s a photo from the locker, bags packed like he’s ready to leave.

Looks like room service for tonight

It’s Joel. You’re texting Joel right now.

It feels like a step deeper into a current you never want to leave.

Texting seems to shift the energy between you and him, a transmutation you never could have imagined.

You text Joel good morning and he tells you good night. You and him bond over a love of music. He’s got incredible taste while also complimenting yours. You stay up late on game days when pitched and now feel your throat dry up knowing you’re getting to know the man on the mound.

The desire brewing more for Joel mixes with the summer heat and melts the days away. Soon enough summer dwindles away, and your new semester approaches.

The drive back to your apartment is a good couple of hours. Funny enough Joel is also traveling today for a game. Stopping for gas midway, your phone goes off.

You think at first it must be one of your parents.

But instead it’s Joel.

You scramble to answer.

“Hey,” his voice sounds incredibly richer and deep on the phone.

“Y’doin’ alright?” Joel asks hesitant.

That catches you off guard.

“Oh yeah, just finished putting in gas actually. Why, what’s up?” You relax more into the conversation now curious to why he called asking that.

Joel sighs.

“Sorry I just…your last text uh, it just got me worried.”

Now you’re really curious about what you texted him. It had been half an incomplete response you sent. Even from your side it seemed abrupted and strange.

Sighing, you apologize that you didn’t even realize you had done that. In the rush of wanting to get out on the road you must have just sent the text.

But it suddenly hits you. Joel called because he was worried. That thought rips into you with a ferocious rawness.

“Okay yeah,” Joel says a bit clumsily. “I’ll…let you go.”

“No, it’s okay.” You quickly reassure him. “How’s the traveling going?”

“Good, just finished rewatching one of the inflight movies.”

“Please tell me it was Field of Dreams.” You tease him with the iconic baseball film as you head back on the road. Just now with Joel on the phone.

On speaker, Joel scoffs echoing in your car all around you. You realize this might be a bad decision trying to stay focused driving while also talking to him.

“Funny.” His thick drawl is dry but so softly teasing just below the surface.

“Was some new movie Sarah told me to watch but…fell asleep.” Joel admits low.

Thinking of him asleep on the plane clutches at something warm and deep in you.

Yes you can admit how badly you want Joel, how you picture what his calloused fingers would feel like on you, in you. But you also are finding yourself aching for more now…

Like falling asleep beside him while watching a movie, or sharing a meal with him and teasing him over his dry sense of humor.

It’s dangerous falling deeper like this.

Especially now in a blink you realize you’ve been talking to Joel this entire drive to your apartment.

“Shit sorry.” He realizes it when he sees the time. “Y’should’ve told me to fuck off. Don’t gotta waste your time talkin’ to some old ass like me.”

He rarely comments on his age, and his words sink hard into your gut.

“Trust me… I’m glad I get to talk to you.” You truthfully tell him.

“You’re the one who probably has better things to do than talk to me.” You add slightly dejected. The words even sting your lips.

“Like watching Field of Dreams.” You quickly add some light humor trying to dispel your heartache leaking in.

Joel snorts.

“Definitely would rather chat with you than watch that.” Joel mutters, but his world electrifies your skin.

“I’m flattered knowing I can beat Kevin Costner.” You joke. When he snorts amused, warmth fills you to the brim.

Someone in the distance calls out to Joel, and you know your time with him is limited. It’s confirmed when he sighs.

“Gonna be landing soon. Ya make it to your place okay?” He asks.

“I did, thank you. And thanks for keeping me company on the drive.” You smile to yourself.

“Don’t mention it. Uh, glad you made it back safe.” Joel replies and his words make you melt.

You say his name quick.

“Can you just… Text me when you make it to the hotel?” Just to know he’s safe. It’s simple, but it feels as if the words weigh a ton.

A moment passes.

“Yeah, will do.” Joel agrees.

He doesn’t text you. Instead Joel calls you when he gets to the hotel.

“Saw a full on fuckin’ fight at the airport when we landed.” Joel rambles immediately, and you learn how much of a secret gossip he is. While Joel breaks down all the details of what he saw, you realize he wanted to tell you about this.

A light burst in your chest because you want to tell Joel everything too.

And when your next semester starts, you tell him all you can.

The texting stays but evolves into more frequent phone calls. Joel listens to you with a gruff saint’s patience. He faintly picks up the names of your professors, even the name of your roommate. At one point he even stays on the phone with you when you cook dinner.

Joel calls during the stretch of waiting at the airports, a few times after games. Sometimes he rants about his teammates, sighs about his frustrations when they lose or when he ends up not doing well on the mound.

While every inch in your body still hums for Joel, it’s steady now - like you’re slowly accepting these emotions fully into your bloodstream and part of your existence.

You adore Joel, maybe more than you want to admit.

During a rare night out with your friends from class, feeling nice in your favorite outfit, courage courses through you. After posting a few photos from your night out, you also post a rather nice selfie.

You pray Joel sees it. Then you get a bit tipsy, and it takes all your willpower not to text Joel.

But the alcohol burns in you. Once you’re back at your apartment, in the safety of your room, you pull up your favorite video.

It’s a spring training video the Rangers made of the team preparing for the upcoming season. The video ranged from showing the guys on the field practicing, to them in the weight room.

There’s a nice small segment just on Cowboy Joel Miller. Specifically he’s training with a few weights and when you first saw it, your throat got so dry.

Joel is drenched in sweat. The simple worn navy blue shirt sticks to his body, highlighting the tone of his arms and width of his shoulders. Curls wet with sweat stick to his forehead. His concentrated face is sinful.

But not as hot as the sounds he makes.

The grunts, the soft growls, the exhales he gives lifting the weights… they drench your thoughts with images of him fucking.

You’ve never done this before, never gotten off on his videos. You never wanted to fall this far.

But it’s so hard when your body feels molten, so wet hearing with his groans directly in your ears. Your fingers trail down to relieve the throbbing wet ache between your legs.

Imagining Joel’s sweaty gorgeous body pressed against yours, picturing his thicker fingers in you, getting to taste him on your tongue - you come incredibly fast.

The next morning a text and a somber guilt wait for you.

Joel of course had messaged you.

Looks like you had fun last night

So he did see your pictures. A blistering heat crawls in your throat.

But reality sinks in fast. You got off to Joel. You don’t want to feel guilty. You reason there’s probably others who have maybe done it. But it does quietly eat at you.

So much that you don’t even reply to Joel for the whole day trying to sort your mind out. He’s the one that eventually calls you.

“Y’go out on a date or somethin’?” Joel asks about the night out, and your mind sputters to a halt.

“Oh uh, no. Just went out with some friends in class.”

“Oh.” He replies quick. “Well, looked like fun.”

You agree and thank him.

“But yeah, no dates for me.” You weakly laugh.

“Yeah? Any reason why?” Joel presses.

Because you’re partially head over heels for him, but you can’t admit that yet.

“No one’s asked me recently that’s all.” You reply simply. You’ve done the dating apps, had the headache mess of ghosting and awkward dates.

Joel snorts. “Pretty thing like you? Hard to imagine.”

His words, like a change up ball that drops wildly in the air, disorient you.

“Trust me, it’s real.” You dryly reply.

“And you? You must be seeing some famous celebrity in secret huh?” You teasingly ask.

You’ve seen the ESPN clips of the beautiful reporters flirting with him, cooing at how handsome he is. He probably could snag a supermodel or other famous person.

Joel barks a hollow laugh of a thing.

“No, none of that.” He answers.

“Ain’t not time for that or…mainly…haven’t found anyone who’s got the patience for me.”

Your heart sinks.

“Wait, what do you mean?” You quietly press.

He sighs.

“M’ older, a single dad. My schedule ain’t perfect. And those that have tried to uh… pursue something haven’t always had the best intentions.”

His voice trails off somber. You wonder how many just wanted him for his money or fame.

A grim cloud seems to settle above you.

“You’re a great guy Joel, an incredible one.” You earnestly tell him. “Those who can’t see it don’t deserve you.”

“And I have to say it but…you’re a real catch.” You go for the obvious baseball pun.

Joel’s chuckle is a beautiful low gruff treasure.

“That was bad.” You can almost picture him shaking his head. “But thanks…same uh, same goes for you. You’re smart, gorgeous. Someone will come around to see you’re worth it.”

You’re drowning in his words. They feel too much.

He ends up having to quickly end the call with his manager calling, and you’re thankful for it. Because this blooming rawness in you feels like it’s getting too much, yet not enough.

Joel’s compliments are sincere. But many feelings tangle you up. It hurts, like you’re stuck in a rose bush trying to get comfortable within the thorns.

Then, the universe decides to pull you away from Joel.

Classes kick up and the workload piles on. You’re exhausted. It even gets harder to reply to Joel as swiftly as you did. You even miss a few of his phone calls and don’t even call him back.

The days blur together.

Then, one morning you find a text waiting for you.

hope you’re alright

You want to cradle that message.

When you call Joel, it’s like not a day has passed between you and him. Your heart soars hearing his voice again.

“So uh…” Joel begins cautiously, and you’ve never heard him this nervous almost. “We’ll be heading your way into town soon.”

That’s right.

Caught up in the semester you completely forgot the team would be playing the Astros soon. Excitement immediately rises in you.

“Hope ya can come out and see us. And if ya do, let me know.” Joel suggests and you swear his voice sounds shy.

The minute the conversation ends, you try checking for tickets. But they’re a pretty penny. You jokingly circle the top section, the highest nosebleeds, and text him saying he needs to try and find you from here.

He texts back immediately.

Don’t worry about the tickets. Just head to will call and let them know you’re with me. Got it covered

That might be one of the hottest things you’ve ever read.

Game day can’t approach any faster. Your parents even mention the upcoming game when you call to check up.

“You should try to go!” Your dad urges, eager.

A part of you has wondered if Joel mentioned you to your dad. You’ve kept quiet, not saying a thing about whatever this is with Joel, and you now think so did Joel.

You take a small comfort in that.

When game day does arrive, you head to Minute Maid Park alone. Your closest friend and classmate couldn’t make it, and neither could your roommate. But for some reason, you’re slightly okay with being here by yourself.

At the ticket window, you nervously say that you’re here for Joel. Like if nothing they verify your name, and with an ease slide tickets your way.

Not just any tickets, but seats right by the Rangers dugout.

Still stunned, but now slightly lost, you can’t help but feel stranded in the stadium.

“You okay, sweetie?” A lovely voice comes and when you turn, you find a sweet older motherly woman. She wears a Texas Rangers jersey and another younger woman stands besides her in the same jersey. They both stare at you concerned.

“You lost?” The younger woman asks sympathetically.

It must be that obvious. The motherly older woman politely asks to check your tickets to point you in the right direction. She perks up.

“Aw look at that! You’re sitting close to us! Come on, we’ll show ya around!” She beams warmly.

“Wait, are you sure?” You ask worried.

“Oh of course,” the younger woman reassures you with a smile. “The stadium is so huge and besides, us Rangers fans gotta stick together.”

She then winks, noticing the Rangers shirt you bought and wore for the game.

You find out Malinda, the older woman, is the mother of the first baseman. And the other lady, Casey, is his wife.

Kindly, this sweet family adopts you, guiding you towards the section literally right besides the dugout on the other side of the net.

You’re stunned in shock yet again.

Even though your tickets are a few rows away from the two sweet ladies, they reassure you you’ll be fine sitting with them.

It’s beautiful and comforting.

“So, who are you here for?” Casey asks with a friendly gossip like whisper. “These seats are for friends and family, and I haven’t seen you around before.”

But then she quickly reassures you don’t have to explain if you don't want to.

You with a weak laugh you’re here to see Joel, adding that he’s a family friend. Her eyes go wide.

“Oh wow! And he warmed up today too so he might pitch!” She says excitedly.

Joel had texted you before the line up was confirmed that he would be warming up.

Don’t know if I’m gonna get put in but just in case

Even if he didn’t, you told him you just wanted to be there to support him.

With the Rangers being the visiting team, they bat first. You want to root for the guys to get a hit and get on base, but you also already selfishly want to see Joel.

Three outs come and the Rangers switch to take the field. No sign of Joel.

In fact he doesn’t show up until the fifth inning, and it happens so casually. Joel simply walks out from the dugout and takes your breath away.

The team wears their cobalt blue jerseys and the color flatters Joel marvelously.

It feels like seeing him for the first time all over again but through a deeper lens you can’t explain.

You clap and cheer with pride when he manages to strike out the first batter. Then the second.

Two strikeouts back to back.

Joel told you back in his younger days he struck out seven hitters in a row. Now for him to get two, much less strike out the third batter, is something to applaud and admire. And the Rangers fans here, including yourself, cheer loud when the team heads back for the next inning.

“Cowboy Miller in his golden age.” Someone off to the side whistles appreciatively.

You don’t fight the syrupy fondness swallowing you whole.

“It’s rare that a more…seasoned pitcher like Joel still is relied on,” your new friend Casey explains. “But it’s hard to see why not. Everyone’s been saying like he’s almost found a new groove and still has so much power.”

He’s a force you’re terribly in awe of.

Seeing the whip of how strong his body still pitches the ball with a dizzying speed, how handsome he looks under the baseball cap, you want to savor this as much as you can.

Joel manages to get two more strikes out in the second inning. Then by the seventh they get a hit off him but thankfully, no runs come in. Cowboy Miller ends the inning striking out the final batter. You, and the other Rangers fans present, erupt wild.

He did amazing.

Laser focused, locked in on the game, he doesn’t search the crowd or even glance up and you understand. The game gets intense when the Astros manage to hit a home run in the eight. In the end the Rangers win because of an error.

But it’s still a sweet victory.

You relish and warmly celebrate it with your co cheerleaders for the game that made you feel so welcomed with them. You’re about to head up and leave, start looking for an Uber ride home, when Malinda calls to you.

“Sweetie? Aren’t ya gonna wait with us and greet the guys!?” She asks with warm curious sweetness.

You can’t say no.

The commotion sweeps you into a neon coated excitement. There’s a special area sectioned off, almost in a backstage-like section that connects to the entry way for the visiting teams. You’re surprised at how many others wait here.

The team slowly trickles out of the locker room and into the hallway. You’re hilariously reminded of a class being let out.

Then the world then melts away when Joel walks out. Focused on his phone you almost want to call out to him, but your voice gets caught in your throat.

Putting his phone away Joel finally glances up and spots you.

Even with his baseball cap on, you see his eyes widen for a fraction. Your body reacts on its own moving towards him. But he also walks fiercely towards you.

The world blurs away for a moment and then without even thinking, you’re embracing him.

It happens so naturally you don’t even realize what you did until you blink and it’s like you’ve been thrown into cold water.

Panicking, you’re about to pull away until Joel’s arms slowly wrap around you.

“Good to see ya too.” He says low gruff but you’re taken out by the knees grateful your body doesn’t give out.

He smells of sweat, of the dirt on the field, and something sharply Joel, and it’s wonderful.

Quickly you draw yourself away to proudly tell him how amazing he did. Joel waves you off with a gruff noise as his eyes refuse to meet you, almost bashful.

It’s been so long since you’ve seen him this close, been in the same space as him. And it feels so different.

“Alright, dinner?” Someone says, and when you turn, you’re stunned to see it’s the team manager.

Guess this means you’ll be saying goodbye.

“Headin’ home?” Joel asks when he notices you staying back once everyone funnels outside.

“Uh yeah, gotta grab an Uber first. Didn’t wanna drive down here and deal with Houston traffic along with awful parking during a game.” You joke, and Joel snorts.

“Let me take ya back then.” He offers, and you almost drop your phone.

You scramble out reassuring Joel it’s fine.

“Besides, don’t you have dinner to go to?” And where would he even get a car to take you.

“S’fine. Would rather make sure you get home safe anyway.” He then tells you to hang tight then goes to grab one of the rental cars the team has on ready.

Because of course they do.

Your blood hums wild knowing Joel is taking you home, that you’re going to be alone with him. Even in this glimmering dusted dream you still want to tell Malinda and Casey goodbye and thanks for treating you so kindly.

You wish them well and even welcome their warm goodbye hug.

“Wish you could come to dinner!” Casey frowns.

“Maybe next time.” Her mother in law says bright.

Next time.

“Yes hope to see you at more games.” Casey grins and the possibility bubbles iridescent in you.

With a goodbye to them you wait for Joel. There are still a few others of the wives or girlfriends hanging around while the team sorts out where to go.

You haven’t turned to give them any attention. However something crawls on your skin like you’re hyper aware of being watched.

“Did you see how she hugged him? Probably just using him, poor Joel.” One of them whispers.

“She’s not even that pretty.” Another one giggles.

“Oh then you know he’s maybe just using her then! And if that’s the case then good for Joel.” The other replies with a searing joke that makes your stomach sick.

Joel returns, keys in his hand. “Ready to go?”

You weakly grin back.

You should be basking in this moment of finally getting to be alone with Joel, of getting to see him drive you around. Once in the car he took off his cap allowing you sight of his soft hair. The darkness of the car, the warmth of the city lights flickering by, all coat him glorious. Yet those comments from earlier fester poisonous and sour any hope of enjoying this.

You stay rather quiet while giving him directions to your place.

Joel however is surprisingly talkative.

“So you’ll have to give me recommendations of places to go around here.” His voice even sounds just traces softer, higher almost - like he’s happy being here.

And it kills you.

“Y’seem quiet, you okay?” He notices it of course, ever aware.

“Yeah, just a bit tired. Didn’t know the game would take that much outta me.” You lie.

Eventually you arrive at your apartment complex.

“Your place is nice.” Joel admires as he helps you out of the car like the Texan gentleman he is. He even follows you to your door.

You graciously thank him again for this night and for taking you home.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks again.

You walk a few steps away from him. The night all around is still quiet, feels soupy with how much hangs in you.

You refuse to cry about this, don’t want to get emotional. If anything, you deserve to treat this like an adult.

“Joel…” you start cautiously, already hating the way your voice wavers.

“Yeah?” His voice stays steady, unbothered, but his eyes furrowing say otherwise.

“What…what is this? What are we?” You ask as steady as you can, but your tone continues to crack.

Joel’s eyes brow furrow and his mouth closes, tightening his jaw.

“Just…good friends.” He replies simply, almost cold. “Just showing my pal’s daughter a nice night.”

There it is.

Your soul deflates. So all the times you’ve felt like this might be something, maybe it's just been you wishing it would be.

So salvaging whatever dignity left, you nod.

“Thanks again, Joel.” You reply briskly and return walking towards your door.

He says your name. It stops you dead in your tracks.

“Why? Why d’ya ask that?” He asks, pressing firm and hard.

You turn back to him, and a deep scowl is etched on his face.

“It doesn’t matter.” You answer.

“The fuck does that mean?” He snaps a bit sharp.

“It means what it means.” You fire back.

“Bullshit. Why did you ask that?” Joel growls out firmer.

“Even if I told you, it doesn’t matter.” You repeat.

“Stop sounding like a fuckin’ owl.” His voice rises hard and fast, like a hand slamming on the wall.

It startles you, makes your eyes water and something in you shakes. Mainly because you know this is beginning to taste like the end. The smallest trace of hope is dissipating right before you.

You blink back tears, and immediately Joel’s face falls.

“Honey, I’m sorry-”

Shaking your head, you cut him off. Not even the sweet pet name he effortlessly uses can shake you.

Through gritted teeth you tell him to go.

“Not when you’re this upset.” He urges.

Through tears a sad water laugh escapes you and Joel’s eyes go cloudy.

“I’m realizing…I’ll never be anything to you then just your friend's kid, huh?” Your voice is waterlogged and you can’t fight it.

“You are.” He states simple and straightforward.

You nod, swallowing back the heartache boiling over.

“Can’t be anythin’ more than that.” Joel adds through mutter.

“Why?” You now ask him. Under the amber light of your apartment’s hallway the most frustrated cloudy look hardens his face.

His eyes scan your face then he steps closer towards you

“Don’t act dumb, sweetheart.” His voice rips out low cruel, slightly harsh.

You’re not and you tell him that.

“I…” the words you’ve held locked up so fiercely in your heart now sneak out from their bars to escape.

“I’d give anything to be yours, Joel.” You croak barely realizing you even said that.

He inhales, and his face goes taunt.

You wait for the sharp reply, even brace for it.

Instead Joel swoops in, kisses you wild like a sudden storm, and presses you against the door of your apartment.

Greedily, you claw onto him not wanting to ever let this go, to let him go. Your mouth begs him more to invade and consume. And he does so with a steady hunger.

The clamor into your apartment is messy, but at one point Joel cautiously stops to look around.

“My roommate’s visiting family…” you reassure, kissing his neck and softly under the side of his jaw with delicate cautious lips.

“Just you and me.” You whisper soft.

Joel takes command the minute you lead him to your room.

“Thought about this. Fuck, think about ya all the damn time.” He growls against your neck as he slides your bra off and runs a callous hand over your chest.

“Fucked my fist that first night you went swimmin’ at m’house.” Joel’s words make you whine and then his lips lick against your skin trying to savor you.

“Me too.” You admit through a whimper. “Touched myself thinking of you.”

Joel freezes.

“Tell me,” he says rather calmly, deadly almost.

Your syrupy lust begins fading away when you realize what you said, what he asks for, and what your answer will be.

Your lips and eyes shut close.

Then Joel’s warm breath, like a ghost, crawls against up your chest and tickles against your ear now.

“Come on, honey,” his voice is utterly decadent with a plea. “Tell me, please.”

You swallow hard telling Joel you don't want him to get weirded out.

He hums against your neck already starting to suck a mark against your skin. Your eyes roll back, and the embarrassment is quickly fading away.

“Promise, I’ll be okay.” Joel reassures you with a mumble against your skin.

So with a shaky voice, you weakly admit how you touched yourself to videos of him.

He groans.

“Baby, oh fuck, fuckin - shit.” Joel sputters out hard, like he just got kicked in the gut, and you’re worried until his lips smash into yours.

He devours you.

You’re swept into a tangled dizzying frenzy. Your clothes practically get ripped off as do Joel’s while he clutches onto you and licks into your mouth.

“That’s my girl. Knew you’d be m’good girl.” He says almost drunk and you’re done for.

You fall into the chasm with no hopes of turning back. But you don’t want to.

Joel feels like a god carving open your universe. You want to consume him and want him to consume you. He becomes your center of gravity.

In the aftermath, you’re left basking in Joel’s warmth and never want to leave.

Even though you were in his arms, Joel had to sit up to take a call and now scrolls through his phone. Your fingers trace his beautiful back.

You’re thankful for all the soft lamps you bought that now melt him into a dreamlike glow.

“Joel.”

He hums a gruff gentle noise that says he’s listening.

“I don’t…” you begin softly, then tell him your doubts. You don’t want him to think you’re simply using him for his status or money.

“Joel… you could quit or retire tomorrow and work with your brother as a contractor and I’d still always want you the way I want you.” Your deliciously aching limbs, the soft afterglow, all of it has you speaking soft and freely.

You never wanted Joel because of his fame or even because of the forbidden taste of him being friends with your dad. You wanted Joel for deeper reasons, some that have carved out a chasm in your heart.

You explain this all to him best as you can without rambling or sounding silly.

Joel sighs.

“Y’shouldn’t.” His voice is a hollow rumble. “I’m old, friends with your dad. We shouldn’t be doin’ this.”

Now a bitter venom spills in you.

You glare at his back, how his shoulders slump defeated while you sit up

“I'm an adult, Joel. And if that’s all you’re worried about then sorry it’s a shit reason.” You launch back.

Over his shoulder he glares at you.

“If…” you swallow hard. “If you’re the one who wants to leave, because i’m that young, or you really don't want this or don’t feel what I feel, then fine. At least tell me that.”

“But I care about you. And I want to make this, us, work.” You finish firmly, even with how much emotions clash in your chest.

Joel sighs again. His eyes face turns away now down downcasted.

“Didn’t wanna want you the way I do. You’re so bright, fucking’ smart and so g’damn gorgeous.” He softly admits.

A pause settles between him and you.

“Y’could be with someone younger, less complicated.” Joel admits low.

“Don’t want anyone younger or less complicated. Just want you.” You reassure with a soft steady mutter.

He goes quiet again.

“Used to not get bothered when I started leavin’ away games by myself. With Tommy married and the business booming, then the girls startin’ to have their own lives…I didn’t mind doing this alone.”

Underneath his words you catch it, his rusting loneliness.

“But then…these past few months…and now today seeing ya waitin’ for me…” he says clipped, like the rest of his words are caught in his throat and he can’t free them yet

Joel turns, and his eyes bore into you.

The silence stays as you stare unflinchingly back at him.

He doesn’t need to say anything else. You don’t think you have to either. Like a magnetic pull, it’s effortless moving towards him. Joel’s warm large calloused hand, seasoned from so many seasons of hard work, of pitching, cradles your face. You kiss him with every inch of your heart.

Even after spending the night, you’re surprised Joel hasn’t left yet. He even comments about figuring out lunch plans with you.

“You have another game today, Cowboy.” You comment.

The term makes his eyebrows rise, and the most coy smirk tugs his face making him look so charming.

“Got today off to rest, ya little shit.” It’s affectionate. “Besides my back ain’t what it use to be and after goin’ more rounds with ya this morning-”

In the middle of your living room you rush to kiss him.

The rest of the day unfolds like a dream drenched and stitched from every domestic fantasy you’ve ever had. Joel stands in your kitchen when you make him a quick lunch and you laugh apologizing that your fridge isn’t MLB diet certified. Joel steals your last saved snack after that joke.

Cuddled snug on the couch with him, you try watching a movie but Joel, so greedy and handsy, ends up fucking your brains out with his tongue.

When dinner rolls around, you order from your favorite local takeout place and Joel pays for everything. You ignore all the work you need to do for the week and don’t care. You’re here at this moment and want to stay crystalized in it for as long as you can.

But tomorrow is the last day before the team leaves to Miami to play the Marlins.

While showering with him, you wrap yourself against Joel’s back already dreading his leave. He seems to sense it too because his hands squeezes yours.

Against your shower wall he glides into you tender and slow, almost trying to draw out every inch of this.

Later that night, you try staying up but the day begins settling in. Your eyes flutter trying to fight sleep.

He mutters your name soft while his fingers run soft against your side.

“Hm?” You answer, trying hard to fight your tired eyes.

“Don’t want ya to think i’m ever using you, honey. You’re not just some young thing keepin’ me company.”

His words are simple, but they erupt so much in you.

Joel had been spooning you from behind, but now you immediately turn around to burrow your face against his chest. You reassure him and his arms tighten around you wonderful chains you wish never break.

But the next morning arrives.

“Gonna come to our last game here?” Joel asks while he packs up.

“Don’t know, I heard you guys still have that really old guy who might be pitching.” You say with a shrug.

His face frowns hard, but Joel moves to playfully smack your ass while you laugh. He quickly draws you in for another kiss.

You have class tomorrow and work you need to jump on, but you go to the game. Joel doesn’t play, but you don’t mind. Getting to hug him goodbye one last night in the shadow of the stadium is worth it.

“Text ya when we get to the airport.” Joel promises, secretly placing a soft kiss on your head.

That night when you get home you order not one, but two Joel Miller jerseys.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Old Habits Die Hard

Day 7: free day.

Summary: hes a spymaster, after all

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1005

Warnings: azzie being a little too protective lol

A/n: this feels a lil rushedd, but i like it 😋

also huge thank you to @salloww for this idea hehe ily pookie 🤭❣️

@azrielappreciationweek

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"Azzie, I was thinking you and I could do something fun. Maybe we could go watch a performance at the rainbow?"

Azriel blinked, raising his eyes from the reports he had been reading to meet the eyes of his wife. "Just us?"

She giggled, winking. "Yes, just us."

He smiled back, even as his brows furrowed. "What about Hazel?"

Y/n rolled her eyes as Azriel stood and began moving closer to her. "She’s gone out. I think it will take her some time to come back home."

"Did she mention where she was going? And is she alone?" Azriel trusted Hazel, of course. But he did not trust others to not harm his baby.

Y/n paused, swallowing. "Uh, I think she’s with a friend."

And Azriel would have left it at that had Y/n not refused to meet his eyes. "Who’s the friend?"

"Umm, I don’t remember."

But Y/n never forgot anything.

"Alright, let’s go."

Y/n glanced at him uncertainly.

"Are you sure?"

He shrugged. "It’s been a long time since we did anything together. Let’s go."

Y/n smiled, kissing his cheek.

"I’ll go get dressed then."

He nodded, offering her a small grin as he watched her bound up the stairs to their bedroom. The moment she was out of sight, though, Azriel turned away, sending his shadows out.

He understood that Y/n knew exactly where and who Hazel was with, and if Azriel was being honest, he could figure out who the friend was too. But he wanted to make sure.

You can’t outsmart me, sweetheart. I will find out who it is you’re with.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Azriel felt light. So light as he watched his wife giggle at yet another joke the host of the performance uttered, her eyes glittering. It had been over months since Azriel had any quality time with his wife, and he almost felt bad for what he was about to do.

Almost.

The smile was a permanent resident on Azriel’s face as he focused more on his wife than the performance. He did not even remember what it was about. And he did not care.

"Az, I’m hungry." Y/n mumbled, pouting up at Azriel.

"Let’s go to the new place that opened up in front of Rita’s." Azriel said, carefully studying Y/n’s expressions. She did not seem to realise though, just nodding happily as she dragged him by his arm towards the direction of the club.

Maybe she only knows the name of the restaurant.

Sure enough, the moment the restaurant came into view and Y/n’s face fell as she read its name. Azriel smiled triumphantly, knowing he had been right.

"Az, I just remembered a place I had been wanting to eat at…"

Azriel forced the chuckle scratching at his throat back down, nodding solemnly. "We could go there for dinner, love. We’re already here, so why not try some new stuff? Unless there is something you’re not telling me about?"

"What? No! Of course not." Alarm painted Y/n’s features red, and she looked down at her feet as they carried her closer to the place Azriel knew Hazel was at.

It didn’t take long for them to enter and be intercepted by a waitress, asking them how many people were going to dine there. Azriel quickly ran his eyes over all the people that sat in various booths and tables, and finally, when his eyes landed on the two  suspects, he grinned.

"I think you’re a little less on tables, and I see my daughter there. We’ll just sit with them, don’t worry."

The employee smiled. "Perfect. I’ll just inform my manager about it."

Azriel nodded, ignoring the glare he felt at the back of his head as he hurried over to the table Hazel occupied. "Hey kids! What a surprise!"

Hazel’s wide eyes swung to meet the eyes of her father, mouth dropping open. "Dad… what are you doing here?"

Azriel shrugged. "I had heard of this place opening some time ago, thought I’d take your mother to try the food out."

"Hey, Hazel." Azriel watched as Y/n furrowed her brows, communicating with their daughter silently before Hazel sighed, nodding dejectedly.

"Hello, Kaden."

The boy perked up at Azriel’s voice, smiling.

"Hello, uncle. Hello aunty. How are you?"

Azriel sighed as he scooted in next to Kaden at the booth, offering a lopsided grin. "Never been better."

Kaden smiled, oblivious to the glare Y/n shot Azriel before turning to Hazel.

"You were going to tell me something, Hazel?"

Hazel shook her head. "I forgot. Nevermind."

Kaden’s brows furrowed, but he nodded. "Are you ready to order then? What would you like to have uncle?"

Kaden really seemed oblivious to what was going on, and Azriel had always been great at acting.

They ordered their food, and they all ate in comfortable silence. Well, comfortable silence if the glares of the women on the other bench could be ignored.

"Hazel, I’ll take my leave now. My mother wanted me home before evening. See you later, aunty, uncle." With that, Kaden stood, waving at the small family. The moment Kaden was out of sight, Hazel’s glare increased tenfold.

"Dad-"

"Hazel, I think Kaden left his wallet."

Sure enough, Azriel saw the small leather wallet on the table where Kaden had been sitting, and he scowled.

"Why don’t you go give it to him honey? Hurry up, he might not be far." Y/n encouraged, and Hazel didn’t need to be told twice. Even as Azriel began to protest, Hazel was gone.

He could feel a berating session oncoming, so he tried to stall by avoiding his wife’s eyes and glaring down at his lap.

"So you want to tell me what that was about?"

Azriel snuck a peek at Y/n from under his lashes. She leaned back in the cushioned seat of the booth, eyebrows raised and looking thoroughly unamused.

He sighed.

No point lying, I guess.

"Old habits die hard, Y/n."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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@okaytrashpanda

[ghouldump]

hi i love your writing unfortunately there aren't many fics for the iwtv so tysm!!

i was wondering if you could write something about louis lestat and claudia with a (vamp?) reader that accidently timetraveld

Back In My Arms | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ time traveling accidentally and you're able to relive bittersweet memories.

thank you and I agree, especially the amc version compared to the movie. The other posts are coming, but I had to rush and get this one out because it was so gut wrenching for me 😭 LOL

“What do you think? The blue or the purple,” you held the dresses to your body.

“I prefer your birthday suit,” Lestat said over the classical music, making you roll your eyes at him. Could he ever be serious when you needed him to be?

“Louis,” you called out, wanting a real opinion.

“Hm? Oh, the purple” he was hardly listening, more focused on the pages of the book.

“So the blue, got it,” you grumbled, storming away, to finish packing your things.

“Ma chèrie, why are you leaving again? It truly makes no sense to me why you remain friends with this mortal,” Lestat said.

“I don't see why you care, it's not like either of you will notice I’m away,” you said, as you closed the bag.

“Don't say that, we do notice,” Louis said, defensively.

“I'll only be away for a night,” you mumbled, checking your appearance in the mirror, and slinging the bag over your shoulder.

“Stay, you can give us a more detailed visual representation of the dresses,” Lestat said, straightening his posture when you scoffed.

“Sex doesn't fix everything”

“It is a start”

“And maybe that's why we’re in the situation we’re in, now, if you'll excuse me, I’m going hang with my mortal friend, who communicates with me and doesn't want to block out our problems with Mozart, books, and sex,” you said, storming out of the townhouse, making sure to slam the door.

Getting into your car, you began to drive to your close friend, George, or Georgie, you called him both. He was middle-aged, although he was closing in on becoming elderly. He'd oftentimes been told he resembled Bill Nye, but those comments usually only made him red in the face, before he sent a storm of swear words at the person, in his thick Cajun accent. Divorced and cut out of his kid's lives, he was lonely, but so were you. Georgie was the only mortal to ever know that you were a vampire, and he made you feel normal.

Although having a few questions at first, he eventually let the matter go, and hardly ever brought it up. The two of you had been friends for nearly a decade now, and you planned to hold on until the bitter end. He wasn't too keen on being turned, scorned by his wife leaving him and his children siding with her. Lestat and Louis weren't comfortable with your friendship at all, but after realizing your relationship was completely platonic and you weren't cutting him out of your life, they grungily accepted him.

As you finally parked in front of Georgie’s house, approaching the door, you shook your head, discovering it was unlocked. Letting yourself in, you locked the door, going to where you'd both hang out for hours, his basement.

“You need to keep your door locked old man, anyone could just walk in here,” you said, going down the stairs. Tossing your bag onto the couch you'd usually sleep on, in the windowless room.

“Nobody comes here but you,” he said, making you laugh.

“So how is it going?” you asked, sitting in a nearby chair.

“A little more progress than last time, how are things at home?”

“Lestat is…well Lestat and Louis will always act like our issues aren't there,” you shrugged.

“Have you tried talking to them?”

“Of course, Lestat doesn't take anything seriously enough, and Louis wants to brush over it all,” you said.

“Hopefully, this is a success, because then we can fix everything,” Georgie smiled.

“Maybe you, but I don't see my problems being fixed”

“Don't underestimate science,” he told you.

Georgie had been working on an actual time-machine portal. He believed if he could go back in time, undo his mistakes, could prioritize his family over work, maybe that would stop his wife from having an affair with the neighbor, from leaving him and draining his wallet, and taking his children who he couldn't even get a happy birthday from.

He insisted that you would be able to use it, to repair your companionship. A long time had passed since 1910 and much tragedy and heartbreak happened. Separating from each other and eventually reconnecting, recently everything had been so stagnant and bland. No energy to argue about obvious conflicts, but unwilling to leave each other again and be forced to deal with the pain.

“Oh, my goodness,” Georgie stood up, his hand going to his chest. Your eyes widened, worried that he would croak.

“What is it?” you asked, you couldn't sense any internal issues, noticing his thoughts were jumping for joy.

“I think…I think it works,” he said, as he began to type on the nearby computer. The pod he'd spent years building, lit up, the white light faint.

“It turns on, how will you know if it works for real?” you asked.

“Could you maybe catch a few raccoons, rats, birds, anything, we can try on them,” he asked. Standing up, you went outside, quickly grabbing a rat from near the drainage, bringing it to him.

“Done,” you smiled, holding it firm, tossing it in the pod, as he opened the door. The rat squeaked a bit, running in circles, as Georgie typed.

The machine began to make a noise before the rat burst. It’s guts splattering on the door.

“Ew, what happened?” you asked him, pressing against the door, to look inside in disgust.

“It seems like it is releasing some sort of radiation, too strong for animals and people, I'll have to keep working on it,” he grumbled disappointedly.

“I could try it if you want,” you offered.

“The radiation will be damaging-

“In case you forgot, I’m hardly human anymore, I am a bit intrigued, the worst thing that could honesty happen is I get burned up, and I’ll heal,” you said, as he faced you.

“Are you sure? I don't want you to feel like you have to do this, Y/n,” he said, but you brushed him off.

“Trust me, I don't, but you've put so much time into this, almost as long as I've known you, I want this to work out for you,” you said.

“Okay, let me get suited up, to clean it first,” he said, changing into the nbc suit to clean the inside of the pod. While waiting for him, you checked your phone, seeing a message from Louis.

“Sending a picture of the dress, I’m sure you look beautiful as always”

Smiling softly, you set your phone on the counter, taking your shoes off, watching as Georgie scrubbed the blood away. Little did Louis know, you wouldn't be wearing the dress to go hunting tonight. As soon as he finished cleaning, he was back at your side, typing on the monitor.

“We’ll do, let's say 5 minutes into the future, I’ll think of a number and when you come back, tell me the number, and time it to see if there is a significant change in time,” he said, as you nodded in agreement, accepting the small stopwatch, stepping into the pod.

Your arms at your sides, you briefly gave him a thumbs up, hoping to reassure his anxious thoughts. Typing on the computer, the pod began to light up again, the noise leaking out before it started to shake. Standing up, Georgie stood with his eyes wide, his jaw dropping as you vanished.

“Oh my Lord, it's working,” he said, his hand shakily went to his mouth.

Back at home, Louis and Lestat were relaxing, leisurely lounging around when it happened. A sudden feeling of dread washed over them as if you were gone. Glancing at each other, both of them stood up, rushing from the house to your friend, George's home. Bursting through the door, they went downstairs.

George looked back, gasping, surprised to see the elder vampires. However, before he could say anything or move, Lestat had him pressed against the wall, his hand around his neck.

“What did you do?”

“M-machine,” he choked out, looking over at the pod.

“Lestat, look,” Louis said, staring at the pod, fog seeping from the bottom.

“What is this?” he continued, looking to George.

“Time machine,” he struggled to say, before Lestat dropped him.

“You didn't put her into your experiment,” Louis said out loud, shaking his head, already pacing the floor.

“She offered, and it was only five minutes into the fut-

Suddenly, within the fog, you could be seen, smiling in excitement from the exhilaration of the atoms passing through your body. Your smile quickly faltered, seeing your lovers and a nervous Georgie.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

“Get her out of it, now,” Lestat told Georgie.

“Leave him alone,” you argued.

“This isn't safe, Y/n, we thought you were gone,” Louis told you.

“Don't parent me, Louis”

“Get her out of it now, or it will be destroyed,” Lestat said, shoving George into the computer, his hands smashing against the keyboard.

“Stop it, Lestat,” you yelled.

“What did you do?” George stressed, as the machine lit up. Typing as quickly as possible, he couldn't see the results that he needed.

“Y/n, he made me press a few buttons, it is going to the past, I don't know how far, but I’m going to fix it,” Georgie said apologetic.

“What?” Lestat and Louis said at the same time.

“Do not kill him, fucking asshole,” you said before vanishing.

“Can you bring her right back?” Louis asked.

“I don't even know how far it has brought her”

“Well figure it out,” Lestat snapped.

“This is your fault, she told me all about you and your ugly ways,” George said. Tilting his head, Lestat was about to reach for him, but Louis grabbed his arm.

“He has to bring her back to us,” he reminded him.

“She is going somewhere in the 19th century, I can't pinpoint where and when. Time should be a little longer through the pod, so I’d estimate a few hours for us if it is a success”

“For us?” Louis asked.

“IF it is a success?” Lestat screamed at the same time as him. George truly didn't understand what you saw in the dramatic man, other than his good looks.

“I've been studying this for some time now and with time travel, it could feel like days, or even longer, but in reality, it should only be a few hours, and I say if because we haven't tried going to the past. The pod isn't sustainable for the undead and Y/n getting in was the first actual progress of real-time travel,” he explained.

“Maybe one of us could go in and-

“No, that is the worst solution, we don't know where she went, so I wouldn't know where to send you and it is only one pod, and overloading the database is the last thing that needs to happen, we’ll give it a few hours,” George said, standing.

“Where are you going?” Lestat asked him.

“Have a glass of wine, if it could take a few hours, I’m going to relax for a while, you're free to make yourselves comfortable,” he said, stepping out of the NBC suit, before going up the stairs.

“We just have to wait,” Louis reassured Lestat, who stood staring at the pod, unable to believe this was happening.

As the pod finally stopped shaking, you peered outside at the change of setting. You were outside, Georgie nowhere to be seen. Turning on the stopwatch, you muttered an apology to him, before punching the thick glass and pushing the door open. Immediately, you recognized the familiarly different environment.

Your bare feet touching the dirt, you recognized the small, poorly built houses. You hadn't seen these houses in ages after Katrina wiped the remaining pieces away.

“Hey, what are you doing-

“You saw no one here, and you won't let anyone get near this precious contraption, now go on inside,” you glamoured the man, watching as he went back up the stairs, into the house.

Sighing, you began to leave the area, ignoring the strange stares. From the way everyone dressed, you were somewhere between the first three decades of the 19th century, and you were sticking out like a sore wearing the knee-length sundress. There was only one place you knew to go, to be sure of the date.

Coming to a complete stop in front of your home, you could see the lights on. Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself that if they were here, this wasn't the same Louis and Lestat you were having issues with, and so you'd have to act accordingly.

Opening the door, you could hear the shuffling of feet and the sound of furniture being torn apart. Furrowing your eyebrows, you went upstairs, surprised to see them in that room. Making eye contact with Louis, he did a double take.

“Y/n,” he said, taken away by your beautiful, he hadn't seen a dress made in such a way before, shorter than average, but still classy.

Hearing your name, Lestat opened that lovely pink coffin, climbing out, and tossing the diary to the side.

“Ma chérie, you stopped for shopping?” he asked, a small smirk in place.

“Did you see her?” Louis finally asked. At a loss of words, you struggled to speak for a moment.

“I'm sorry, I'm not feeling like myself, what year is it?” you asked.

“1920, you alright?” Louis asked, approaching you.

“Look who finally decided to crawl home to her coffin and write about her psychosexual behavior,” Lestat spat.

“You read my diary?” hearing that beloved voice, your eyes began to sting.

“Only a little bit,” Louis confessed.

“I read all of it and you are a little deviant brat,” Lestat said, as you slowly turned around. The bloody tears began trickling down your cheeks, as you stared into her eyes. She was real, in the flesh, not a figment from your dreams or old photos, but was here in front of you.

“Claudia,” you said, her name flowing from your lips caused you to visibly tremble.

“Mama,” she started, concerned, her eyes widening as you rushed over, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug.

Weeping bitterly, you held her close, unwilling to let her slip away this time, whispering sweet words of love to her. Confusedly, she hugged you back, as you both sat on the floor, holding her in your arms.

While the two men were originally set on disciplining their wild daughter, their concern now shifted to you.

“Claudia, you've been reckless-

“They're buried in Chalmette,” you interrupted, Lestat, your hand comfortingly brushing over her curls.

“How do you know that?” Louis asked, but you ignored him.

“My beautiful girl,” you whispered, hugging her one last time tightly, before letting her go.

“Are you okay, mama?”

“I couldn't be better at this moment,” you reassured her, kissing her forehead.

“Let her off this time, please, for me, she's still a child, and there will be a time when we wish we still had our beautiful girl staying here with us,” you said, facing them, seeing your blood-stained face, they were beyond concerned.

“It's still a little early for bed, perhaps you'd like to play a game of chess?” you asked her, wiping your eyes and accepting her hand, as she stood up.

Going into the living room, Claudia couldn't help but think about how unusually attentive you were being. Sure, she was just as spoiled as other children, but you never stopped her from being disciplined when you all agreed she needed to be.

“Claudia, you know I love you, right?” you asked her, watching as she set up the game.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Without you, an eternity isn't the same,” you admitted, as Lestat and Louis came downstairs, joining the two of you.

Your lovers watched you intentively, as you played the game with Claudia. Lestat noticed how you were letting her win, purposely moving to the wrong places, as she took your pieces while showering her with praises.

He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about the interaction seemed different. Any other time you played chess with her, you gave her a challenge, expressing where she was improving or where she needed work. This time, you were treating her like a little child, like you hadn't seen her in forever, or would never see her again.

Time flew and after two long rounds, Louis stood, announcing Claudia needed to go to bed. Groaning, she stood, wanting to stay longer, but you shook your head.

“It's okay, you need your beauty rest, I love you so much, sleep well,” you told her, hugging her firmly once more.

“Love you too,” she mumbled before she was stomping up the stairs.

“Are you sure you are okay, ma chérie?” Lestat asked, as soon as her bedroom door shut.

“I am, I just, the thought of one day losing her, or being apart hurts my soul, our relationship would probably never be the same,” you said, smiling sadly at him.

“Why would we never be the same?”

“Because she's our daughter, and it would take losing her to see how much she is loved, even you, she's so much like you and that's why you clash so much,” you laughed.

“Wouldn't that make us stronger?”

“I wish that was the case, but holding onto the past makes you unable to communicate like you're supposed to-

“Where is all this coming from? Talk to us, what's on your heart?” Louis asked.

“Please don't question me, but there will be a time when we are so weirdly uninterested in each other, and we try to block out our issues with reading, music, and sex,” you said.

“Why though?”

“Holding onto the past”

“Then you'd have to remind us of what is ahead and not behind,” Lestat said, leaning down, pecking your lips.

Feeling your face burn from the passionate kiss, you looked down, your eyes widening noticing your fingers faded. You have watched enough sci-fi movies with Georgie to know it was time for you to leave.

“I need to make a quick run-

“The sun will be up in another hour,” Louis told you.

“I know, I won't be long, love you both,” you said, pecking both of their lips, before running out of the house.

As you ran back to the backyard, you were surprised to see the man back outside.

“What are you doing?” you asked him, seeing as he sat on the steps, watching the pod.

“I saw some kids run back here, so I’m just watching this contraption,” he shrugged. Staring at the man, you recognized him, Georgie’s grandfather, but much younger. You had seen the few photos hanging up on the house and you identified the face quickly.

“If you had advice for a future relative, a son or grandson, what would you tell him?”

“Life gets hard, we make mistakes, and we lose people, but we have to hold onto the better part of things. I get divorced, but I was able to experience a beautiful marriage, same with children, I was fortunate to experience fatherhood”

“Beautifully said, go get some rest,” you said, glamouring him, watching as he nodded, going inside.

Carefully stepping over the broken glass, you cautiously stepped inside, shutting the door, as the fog came back, the machine lighting up, before you were gone.

“Anything?”

“You just asked me that a few minutes ago, please, have some damn patience,” George said to Lestat, who was pestering him about you. The man was trying as hard as he could and Lestat did not care one bit.

Suddenly, the pod lit up, the fog coming back. Typing on the computer the door opened, before you stepped out, your feet dirty.

“I was away 6 hours and 40 minutes, how long has it been?” you asked, tossing Georgie the stopwatch.

“2 long hours, you've been crying,” Louis said, going to pull you into a hug.

“I saw her, our girl, she was perfect,” you said, feeling him stiffen in your arms before his shoulders shuttered from crying.

“What was she doing?” he asked.

“She had gotten in trouble, but I convinced you both to let it go, and we spent time together,” you said, as he smiled, nodding.

“You told her you loved her?” he asked, hopeful.

“Yes,” you nodded, as the hug tightened before he pulled away.

“And you told me something, so valuable,” you said, shifting to Lestat.

“Of course I did,” he smirked.

“You told me to remind you both of what is ahead of us and not our past,” you said, watching as he dabbed his eyes, stopping any tears on his part.

“Sounds like something I’d say, I guess,” he grinned.

“Are you ready to come home? I know you're probably exhausted from all of this?” Louis asked, grabbing your bag when you nodded.

Glancing at Georgie, who stood awkwardly waiting for you to finish with your reunion. Moving away from Lestat, you stood in front of your good friend, before pulling into a hug.

“Someone dear to you told me some valuable advice I want to share with you,” you smiled.

“Okay”

“Life gets hard, we make mistakes, and we lose people, but we have to hold onto the better part of things. Our past isn't meant to be changed, but rather we embrace the experience, both good and bad, because it shapes us into who we are. You might not be able to get your marriage back, but you could try to reach out to your children, Georgie,” you said, smiling as he teared up, agreeing with you.

“We have our own affairs to handle,” Lestat groaned, ready to leave the tiny basement.

“Shh,” Louis nudged him before you followed the two out of the house.

“Now that I think about Lestat was more charming back then, but now it's you, Louis,” you said, both of you laughing as Lestat scoffed, going on a rant about his greatness.

You missed Claudia greatly, but you had to keep moving, you all did. You still had an eternity of life, but maybe one day, just maybe, when you're reunited, she'll be where she belongs, back in your arms.

[t1red-twilight]

oblivious pining headcannons

summary: you and spencer are so unbelievably unaware.

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, idiots in love, cursing

notes: i’m so lonely (rip)

word count: 0.4k

masterlist s. r. masterlist

- spencer is blissfully unaware and in denial that anyone could ever like him romantically

- this is driving the team INSANE.

- because you are interested. very much so, in fact.

- you have his coffee order memorized, and you even bought the creamer he likes for the office

- “i made you coffee:)”

- “this is perfect! thank you? how’d you know what i like?”

- “i bought that creamer you like!”

- and derek just kinda stares in bewilderment. “these idiots are so fucking dumb. oh my god.”

- hotch has taken to being cupid (middle school teacher style)

- you are assigned to share rooms with each other, and you accept no questions asked. (like when teachers put kids who have crushes on each other next to eachother on the seating chart)

- “it’s just because we are close friends!” no. it is not.

- spencer always saves you a seat on the jet.

- gets pissed when anyone tries to take ‘your spot’

- loverboy™

- staring at each other when you think nobody is looking

- lingering touches

- this becomes magnified when one considers that spencer is a germaphobe

- emily was watching in disbelief as spencer was showing you something about the geographic profile. you were practically nestled into his side; very much in his personal bubble. “morgan, come here.”

- “oh my god. so much for ‘bacteria transfers instantaneously.’”

- going out of his way to be near you

- he approaches you whenever you enter a room

- he doesn’t say anything most times. just kinda stands next to you

- you’re the only one to listen to his tangents

- “you didn't finish talking about narcissistic tendencies earlier, spence.”

- “oh! so narcissistic breakdown can be identified through-”

- he points out your little quirks to other people

- “they do that when they’re nervous. i hope they're okay”

- now that i mention it

- CONSTANTLY checking in on you.

- “are you okay?”

- “i’m still good to come over right?”

- “text me when you get home, okay?”

- he’s hyper aware of your little tics and can read you like a book:(

- like he is so perceptive and will then proceed to check in on you (as stated previously, he does quite a lot)

- researches your interests so he can talk to you about them lol

- eye contact 24/7 (i’m a sucker for puppydog eyes</3)

- team is lowkey disgusted by your sickly-sweet interactions

- minus rossi. who will just say something about his third wife and be like “ah. young love.”

- he holds your hand all the time. will wiggle his fingers to get your attention

- anyway it's just really sweet

- you're really sweet with each other.

- and even though it's excruciating to watch, the team encourages you two that you should just ask the other on a date

- and when you do, it's a quiet win for everyone.

[seduzist]

one more time

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary. a failed marriage couldn’t stop you both to have a fun night, right?

cw. a little angst, smut, g!p! wanda and reader are milfs lol, drinking, smut, dirty talk, degradation, basically porn with plot. i wrote this really sleepy when i wake up i will proofread, sorry.

you liked to think of yourself as a great, great mother, and hardly someone would say the opposite, you only lets your twins eat candy on weekends, always do your best at birthday parties and were the most caring and lovingly as a mother can be without getting weird or overprotective. 

but on the last week you felt you really needed some time with adults, not that you didn’t loves with your whole heart every second you spent with your kids, but you really needed to have a casual conversation with someone who doesn’t believe in santa anymore, or that doesn’t ask you how much is 100 plus infinite, or you would lose it. 

so, when your coworker asked you to go for a coffee after your shift you thought twice about the idea of call your ex-wife and ask her if she could catch the twins after school and maybe take them to the park for an hour, it couldn’t be that bad, could it? that’s what you did.

kate bishop, the coworker who invited you, was very funny, it was clear that she was very nervous being by your side which you find cute and made you feel confident, but you just couldn’t enjoy the moment more than a little bit, you couldn’t see her as someone who could really make you feel anything, at all.

after all the talk you got back home frustrated, texting wanda if everything was fine.

[you]

hey, everything’s fine? 

on my way to home rn

[wanda]

yep, we’re at the park 🛝

i’m gonna take them for some pizza 🍕🍕🍕

idk when we’re coming back but i let u know 

😉

you laugh at wanda’s need to use so many emojis in every text, but thanked her in your mind to let you have more time for yourself, so when you got home you made sure to make it worth, you took a nice, long and warm bath and served yourself some wine, enjoying the complete absence of sounds of little steps running on the ground and the constant screams of “mom!” followed by a complaining about a toy or about it’s brother. 

it was very relaxing and relieving but you thought about how it would be when they got back and started the chaos all over again.

fortunately, that didn’t happen, when wanda got back to your house the twins were dead asleep in the car, she only had time to call you before you open the door and see her carrying both of their unconscious little bodies to inside, each one of them resting their head in one of her shoulders. when she got close enough you helped her, taking carefully Tommy in your arms, making sure none of them would wake up, and guiding her to their room upstairs. when you and wanda done putting them in bed and cover them up with a spider man and a batman blanket, you made your way downstairs silently.

when you turned around to take a look at her, suddenly you felt something that you didn’t know exactly what was it. maybe it was the alcohol running in your system - it’s been so long since you’ve got drunk - maybe it was all the frustrations and thoughts you’ve had about her the entire day, maybe it was your fertility period or the fact you didn’t have any sex for the last three months. but wanda looked so, so hot.

with a slight blue jeans and a black shirt, her casual clothes didn’t have anything special as well as her face, with the makeup she always wears, but there was something really different, it was probably in your eyes.

not that this really mattered, because you didn’t even remember how it started, all you could really memorize is how her lips felt against yours and how her hands felt running all over your body, reminding you of the times you were still together.

reminds you of everything, your first time at the bathroom of her fraternity party, that was inexperienced, desperate and hungry, made you discover a few things about her and about yourself. the first time after your wedding, when she made sure to be the most intimate, romantic and loving night you’ve ever dreamed about before the honeymoon. the make ups after a fight, rough, careless, wild, it used to be the most common in the last months of the marriage.

somehow you felt it all over again when you kissed, not knowing exactly how it started, but just like the first time, you were desperate for more.

wanda’s hands reached the hem of your pajamas’ shirt, the silk was thrown over the floor exposing your breasts, the warm skin being such a sight for her eyes, and she wasted no time in closing her mouth around one of your nipples, with both arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

you could feel your pussy almost dripping, it’s been long since the last time you had anything, but now wanda was right there, and she could give you everything, her mouth on your breast felt good but you craved more.

“i want you, now.” you whispered, putting your hands on her cheeks and gently bringing her up for another kiss, in a desperate attempt to make her understand how much you needed her inside of you, but wanda never failed to that before and the cocky smirk she gave you definitely showed she was not about to let that be the first time.

soon, you were sat naked at the counter of your kitchen with her body between your legs, taking off her black shirt and taking just a second or two to admire her body, perfect just like you remembered, her perky breasts begging to be touched, but both of you were so eager. wanda looked like she didn’t had sex in a while as well as you, she was rock hard without much stimulation and when she put her jeans down along with her boxers, your mouth watered at the sight.

looked a little bit bigger than you remembered and made you feel scared for a moment, you knew that would hurt despite the time without it, but a small part of you wanted the pain.

“i missed you so much, y/n.” wanda said, a little breathless, catching your attention to her face again. her strong hands pulled your legs around her waist and her throbbing cock made contact with your center.

you both moans at the contact, so needy for each other, wanda takes one hand to her cock, jerking it off before positioning at your drenched opening, making sure to look at your face while sliding the head in.

the woman’s eyes lightened up when you opened your mouth and let out a quite loud moan, beating your lashes at her with doe eyes, begging her to fuck you without saying a single word, and that’s what she did.

putting a hand above your mouth to keep you quiet and the other holding your thigh to keep you in place, she started moving her hips, thrusting forward and making you let out moans that she would die to hear but this wasn’t the time. your nails sunk into her back at the painful feeling of being stretched out by her shaft, but still you enjoyed it.

“didn’t you missed it? being stretched out by me, hm?” her husky breathless voice in your ear sounded sinful and dirty and you immediately shaked your head as yes, letting out another moan that was muffled by her palm “you’re so tight, fuck, i forgot how tight you were.”

after her last inch entered you, which you take proud of being able to take without asking her to go slower, she takes her hand out of your mouth, immediately kissing your lips while your pussy adjusted her size, her tongue slipped inside your mouth, you tested like red wine and your hands find its way to flood her breasts, you felt her hard nipples against your palms and wanda had to break the kiss to let out a little moan at that, but soon her mouth were on yours again and her hips were moving.

the sensation of her cock going in and out of you was like heaven, her heavy breath against your lips while she tried to kiss you and swallow your moans was so, so intoxicating, she was all over you and you didn’t want this to end.

“you feel so good, you’re so good– fuck, wanda!” you did your best to whisper these words instead of screaming them at the top of your lungs, but at every thrust of her hips her cock reached deeper inside of you, stretching your insides in a delicious way.

“you missed being my little slut, didn’t you?” she said against your lips, her pupils so dilated to the point the green in her eyes almost disappeared. you agreed with your head, scared that if you tried to say something it would be too loud and wake the twins who still sleeps safe and sound in their room.

when her movements became messy and desperate, she brings one hand to your pussy, stimulating your clit in circles with two fingers and that’s how you knew she was close, you closed your eyes, feeling your own orgasm coming, the knot on your stomach getting tighter as wanda’s fingers became faster, as well as her cock inside you.

“cum for me.” she breathed out against your lips and you happily did.

your back arched and your eyes rolled in your head while your shaking legs pulled wanda even closer, if that was possible, the tight of your pussy around wanda’s cock while you came on her made her almost cum inside you, but she couldn’t and she knew, so she did her best to hold it until you finished.

when the last drop of your cum coated her cock she took it out of you, making you feel empty but the sight of her jerking off and cumming all over your belly while calling your name was enough to please you for now.

both of you panted heavily, unable to speak for two or three minutes, wanda rested her head on your neck, while you caressed her hair slightly and for a moment it didn’t felt like a mistake, it felt like pure love again.

wanda grabbed a napkin across the counter to clean your belly and took you to the couch, sitting comfortably by your side and then was your turn to rest your head on her shoulder. your breaths were still heavy and your legs weak, your sweaty bodies fitted each other perfectly.

“we have to put our clothes on.” wanda said after a while, and you agreed, but none of you moved.

the situation would probably be awkward for a lot of couples, but wasn’t for the two of you, maybe it was the intimacy you get after 8 years of marriage but it sounded just like casual conversation, except that there’s no clothes and no inhibitions between you.

“we’ll never do this again, this was an only time thing.” you said calmly, looking up at her.

“yeah, an only time thing.” she agreed, but if you wasn’t so tired to read her eyes you would know that deep inside she wanted nothing more to be with you again.

[midnightorchids]

More soft Jason ideas since you deserve it and your wonderful and supper cool Girldad!Jason BRRROOOOOOO Oh my goddddddd ok like- - Jason is the kind of dad who always has music playing in the house, he mindlessly sways and hums along as he makes morning (or night-time) pancakes for you and his little girl. She'll come running up to him, her thick black hair tangled over her face, and pull on his pant leg. He'll sweep her up into his arms, her small head fitting perfectly against his chest as she watches him make breakfast, still somewhat asleep and aloof. He'll start bopping along to the music with her little hands around his neck, filling up the kitchen with shrieks of laughter and he peppers her soft cheeks with kisses. - I feel like you and him would like in a beach house, somewhere away from the city and his old job as Red Hood. Your daughter would bring home buckets of pretty rocks and sea glass that Jason keeps in jars along the living room windowsills. He has to dump some back onto the shore every time he sees her washing the new rocks and shells on the front porch. - After long summer days of playing and wrestling in the waves, you would all curl up for a post-beach nap. Smelling like salt with the prick of the sun settling into your tired bones. Your daughter would fit perfectly between you two. Jasons hand behind his head with his other wrapped firmly around you and his little girl. - Get's his daughter obsessed with reading just as much as he is. Would build her book-shelf after book-self as her collection of story-books and middle grade fairy books expands. - Helps his daughter roast marsh mellows during the beach bonfires you guys have when Roy and his daughter visit. Your daughter and Lian are best friends- playdates once a week kind of thing. - When she's little, he'll always have his daughter on his knee during big family dinners. He let's her eat anything off of his plate, keeping his arm around her as he talks with Dick. - Overall, just- every-time he falls asleep next to you he feels like crying into your shoulder, unable to thank you enough for bringing such a precious perfect bundle of laughter into his life. Huge 'my wife showed me how to love and my daughter showed me how to forgive energy lmao.

I want night time pancakes with Jason and my little baby girl wtf!!! Also, thank you so much for sending this in. I love it and I literally fail to understand how you pull up with the most amazing scenarios every time, I’m actually in love with your writing!! You’re amazing! Anyways lol!! I’m gonna be honest, I don’t want to have biological children but for Jason… I’d do it, no hesitation. He’d be the most amazing girl dad, I love him so so so much.

I’m not sure if people have already said this before but can you imagine him learning how to do your daughter’s hair!! He has a YouTube hair tutorial playing on the TV as your daughter sits in between his legs. He’s got bobby pins in between his teeth and hair ties around his wrist. He’s using a small comb to gently brush through her little curls.

He’s learning how to braid her hair and he’s having some difficulty, but he’s a persistent man, and like he always tells his little girl, practice makes perfect! He will sit there for days, hours upon hours, trying to make the most flawless set of Dutch braids. Once he’s succeeded at his craft, he’ll admire his work and will tell his daughter to go show you his skills. And oh my goodness, how adorable does she look showing off her father’s braiding skills!!

I also saw a quote on Instagram earlier today and it said that “tenderness is in the hands” and I immediately thought of Jason. There is no one with gentler hands than Jason. His fingers may be rough and his knuckles might be permanently bruised from his past, but when he interlocks his hands with his baby girl, they are the most delicate and warmest hands she has ever felt.

He will run his fingers through her hair, as she lays her tiny head against his chest and he’ll read her favourite stories. She’ll take his hands out of her hair and just play with his fingers. Trace little shapes on his palm, measure her small hand against his big, calloused ones. It’ll melt Jason’s heart and he’ll feel like crying. There will be days where he needs to stop reading and take a minute to appreciate the tenderness of the moment, without completely crumbling.

Also, I kind of hate to say it, but it’s so true. Jason would totally try to heal his daddy issues by being the best possible parent.

He’d treat his daughter like an actual princess and not just in terms of materialistic things. He’d be there for her in every circumstance; he’d be the best moral support and the best cheerleader anyone could ask for.

If your daughter plays any sports or plays an instrument, any thing really, he’d always be there to encourage her and comfort her when it started to become tough. He’d attended every game, every practice, every performance. Like I said, the best cheerleader.

Basically long story short, I’d die for soft, girl dad Jason.

[honeyflashbang]

My theory on Sampo's true identity...

(Minor Spoilers for 2.4) (also, I’m no expert in… anything, really, but these are just my ramblings).

So, this has probably been mentioned before, but I have a teeny-tiny theory about Sampo’s true identity, and it relates to Finnish mythology.

So, “Sampo” in and of itself doesn’t have a set meaning, but it has its roots in Finnish mythology, particularly the “Kalevala” which is a 19th-century compilation of epic poetry. In it, a blacksmith god by the name of Seppo Ilmari(nen) forges the mythical device known as “The Sampo”. It’s never quite explained what The Sampo really is; some versions depict it as a mill, others as a cornucopia from which bountiful creations flow from, and some even have it as being a world tree/world pillar, so what The Sampo really is, isn’t entirely known. But, what is known, is that it brought riches and good fortune to its holder (again, the same as the cornucopia from Greek mythology).

But why am I mentioning all of this? Why bring up the Kalevala? It could be that Hoyo just chose the name “Sampo” for some flavour—befitting of a character who magics up relics from seemingly thin air and is trying to create riches—and yeah, it’s a possibility…

Until I saw these two screenshots from the 2.4 story:

You know what this means, right? 

Kalevala is a real planet in Hoyo’s Star Rail universe, and I find it awfully coincidental that they would use this name for a planet and not have it related to a certain blue haired conman, especially since The Sampo is such a pivotal element in the plot of the Kalevala—there is no way this is a coincidence (I refuse to believe it).

This leads me to believe that Kalevala is Sampo’s real home world, and is where he originates from.

Now, this is all well and good, knowing where “The Sampo” hails from, but I want to focus on its creator—Seppo Ilmari(nen)—and his parallels to a certain blue haired conman. For one, Ilmari(nen)’s name is quite interesting as the ‘Ilma’ part is Finnish for ‘air’ or ‘weather’, and as we know, Sampo’s element is that of ‘wind’ (And also the fact that Ilmari(nen) is credited as “Godlike smith-hero and creator of the sky”. I could go into a whole spiel about Ilmari(nen) and Qlipoth swinging their giant hammers in tandem together for all eternity (Go Sampard! Geppie is Qlipoth's true heir, you can't convince me otherwise!), but that’s for another conspiracy theory lol).

So, ‘Ilma’ means ‘air’, and Sampo wields ‘wind’.

Cool.

If the parallels ended there, I’d just say I was being crazy… but there’s more.

Sampo’s 4th (and arguably best) eidolon is called “The Deeper the Love, the Stronger the Hate”. Two out of his six eidolons refer to 'love', whilst the other 4 are to do with wealth and riches. The wealth and richest aspect leans towards The Sampo of mythology, whilst the ‘love’ aspect, well…

According to the story, Seppo Ilmari(nen) is the unluckiest bastard alive when it comes to love. Like, seriously. His whole storyline is that he can’t find a woman. For one, Seppo Ilmari(nen) is double crossed by his so called buddy, Väinämöinen, into creating The Sampo for the evil witch Louhi of Pohjola in exchange for her daughter’s hand in marriage (which, Ilmari didn’t even want in the beginning), but when the poor guy actually sees the daughter and falls in love with her (and subsequently creates the Sampo—after failing miserably a number of times, mind you—he creates a crossbow, a boat, a cow(wtf?) and a plough, all which are somehow either evil or flawed), she ups and just leaves him hanging! (in the original runes, however, he is successful in gaining a wife, as his ‘unlucky in love’ spiel was later added by Lönnrot in compiling the Kalevala).

As with any mythology and re-telling of it, there’s so many different versions of the same event. In “The Maiden of the North”, a 1898 opera written by Oskar Merikanto, both Ilmarinen and Väinämöinen compete for the chance to marry Louhi’s daughter, who is then mentioned as being “Ilmari(nen)’s first wife” and who later dies to Kullervo’s curse (apparently she was a bit of a bitch to Kullervo by taunting and tormenting the poor boy—who was a child slave mind you!). Distraught, Ilmari(nen) forges himself a wife of gold and silver, but he finds her to be too cold and callous—he forges her out of love but only finds hate—so he tries to gift her to Väinämöinen (who doesn’t want her either, lol), and suggests he cast her back into the furnace and to “forge from her a thousand trinkets”.

Here’s the accompanying poem:

Never, youths, however wretched,

Nor in future, upgrown heroes,

Whether you have large possessions,

Or are poor in your possessions,

In the course of all your lifetime,

While the golden moon is shining,

May you woo a golden woman,

Or distress yourselves for silver,

For the gleam of gold is freezing,

Only frost is breathed by silver.

It is apparently your standard Aesop’s fable of “money can’t buy happiness”, which is something else I see in our dear old Sampo Koski. During our time in Belobog, we see how different he acts with the Underworld and Overworlders. To the poor, he actually seems approachable (albeit a bit of a nuisance), going so far as to help the Underworlders (an example being the questline “Survival Wisdom” in which he and Peak set up a business together renting out his tools to help the miners make a decent wage to support their families). In contrast, we actively see Sampo being very hostile towards the Overworlders, scamming them and putting the nobles in their place or setting them up to be caught by the Silvermane Guards (an example being during the museum questline where you discover his identity as “Mr Cold Feet”. Sampo clearly states to who he thinks is his mark that ‘we are not friends’ in a very hostile manner, something which we’ve not seen from Sampo before as he is usually quite amicable). 

For all Sampo’s showboating and flashing his money around, he helps where it counts. He wants to make money, sure, but not at the detriment of the people who need it the most, only to those with excess.

Anyway, back to him being unlucky in love��

In another rune entitled “Kosinta”, Ilmari(nen) goes on a journey to compete for Hiisi’s daughter, and wins by completing various feats, one of them being “ploughing a field full of snakes”:

And as we know, Sampo is very heavy on the snake motifs (the head of the snake on his shoulders, the spine wrapped around him, the daggers are its fangs…etc.)

So that’s another interesting link between Seppo Ilmari(nen) and Sampo Koski.

So, why have I gone on this long winded tangent about Seppo Ilmari(nen) when I’m supposed to be talking about Sampo Koski?

Well, that’s because I think Sampo Koski’s real name is (or a variant of) Ilmarinen.

In the Hoyo universe, I believe Ilmarinen came from the planet Kalevala and ‘created’ the persona of Sampo Koski, much like how in the Kalevala, Seppo Ilmari(nen) forged The Sampo.

As I’ve listed above, there’s so many links between the two:

“Air” as a name and “Wind” as an element.

Seppo Ilmari(nen) ploughed a field of snakes to win Hiisi’s daughter’s hand in marriage, whilst Sampo Koski relies heavily on snake motifs for his attire.

Sampo’s two eidolon names that relate to love (which are completely different from the other 4 eidolon names), whilst Seppo Ilmari(nen) is known to be unlucky in love.

I’m pretty damn sure Sampo creates his own bombs and tinkers with the old relics to bring them back to life, whereas Seppo Ilmari(nen) is a smith who created the dome of the sky! They’re both artificers!

And now the revelation that a planet by the name of “Kalevala” exists is no mere coincidence.

So, either Sampo is Ilmari(nen) - or! - Sampo is a puppet (like Herta) created by someone called Ilmari(nen). 

(I would love if his 5* version is him with this name).

Right, I’m finished rambling. Gonna go huff some copium...

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo going berserk after his wife got injured

Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Warnings: slight injury, language, Gojo being really mad lol

Notes: My dearest @hitori979, this one is dedicated to you! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for supporting me since day 0, always liking and commenting my brainrot. I hope you enjoy this fanfic as a little thank you from me 🤍 How other JJK men react when (y/n) gets hurt here Choso with injured (y/n) who has blood phobia here

„Do you really have to go, babe?“, Satoru’s oh so sweet voice mumbles against your neck.

You know exactly what he’s up to. Satoru always acts this way when you’re about to leave for a mission. How much he hates to see you walk through the door. While he’s fully aware of the fact that you’re a damn strong jujutsu sorcerer, he just dislikes the thought of you getting injured on some stupid mission. If he had it his way, you would stay at home, maybe teach here and there at Jujutsu High, but that’s it.

You are way too precious to risk your life on a mission.

“You know I have to. This is my job, remember? And I have to let you go every day, knowing that you’re not even paying attention. May I remind you that I haven’t been injured for over a year?”, you softly reply.

“That’s not true, I am paying attention!”

You raise your eyebrow demandingly by the way he ignored your last question.

“At least sometimes…Come on babe, this is not fair! Just because you haven’t been injured for some time doesn’t mean you won’t get injured today! Also, I wanted to spend the day with you!”, he complains, arms wrapped around your frame so tightly that it’s getting hard to breathe.

“You always want to spend the day with me. As much as I’d love to stay here, I have to go. Megumi will assist me.”

“I should assist you…”, he mumbles.

“They wouldn’t even send me, then”, you chuckle.

“Promise that you’ll text me, I already threatened Megumi to take care of you.”

“I will, darling. Now let me go or I’ll be late.”

With one last grumble and kiss, he finally lets go of you while you smile to yourself. God, how much you adore your husband. Even though it can be quite challenging from time to time, you admire the way he cares about you.

“I love you”, you shout before you close the door behind you.

“Love you too!”

-later-

“Don’t worry, one or two hours and we’ll be done with this”, you reassure Megumi who stands beside you.

“This doesn’t look good”, he comments.

Unfortunately, he’s right. You don’t know why there are so many curses around, but an uneasy feeling spreads in your guts. This isn’t the right place for a grade 2 sorcerer, let alone a first class student. Well, maybe even you…

“Try to stay behind me. This will get ugly”, you instruct Megumi when another wave of curses appears.

“Gojo-sensei will kill me if you get injured because of me.”

You wink at him while as you unsheathe your sword.

“Who said I will?”

Without wasting another precious minute you sprint forwards, eyes darting around the area. There are so many, way too fucking many, curses around here. This isn’t normal, something is very wrong here. But you don’t have time to think about it any further – Megumi’s and your life depend on your abilities.

You fight off more than 40 curses with ease, slashing your sword over and over. Fuck, this has no end. As soon as you exorcise one curse, two more appear on your sides and try to attack you. With every passing minute it becomes clearer and clearer to you that you won’t be able to complete this mission unscathed with Megumi alone.

“Here are many curses around, I can’t explain why though. It wouldn’t hurt to send some help”, you instruct into your headphone, fully aware of the fact that your husband is able to hear your decent cry for help as well and might freak out.

Where do all of these curses come from? This is a public place, it shouldn’t be possible for them to develop here this well. Expect this aren’t traditional curses…

“I won’t lie to you: Something’s off here. I’m not entirely sure if these are normal curses. Just stand your ground, I already informed the higher ups about this”, you inform Megumi with firm voice, fighting off a curse just before it is able to scratch your face open.

They come from all directions, almost absorbing you. Desperately you fight back with all your abilities, holding onto your sword so tight that your knuckles stand out white. You have to get through all of these curses, you have to find out why they’re here and why on earth so numerous.

But you can’t. Your thoughts wander to Satoru and his words this morning. He’ll definitely go insane when he hears about this. And for a moment, a wave of relief washes over you by that thought. Because this means he’ll come here and end this madness without Megumi getting hurt.

Megumi.

You almost miss the way a curse lunges from behind towards him while he’s busy fighting off three other ones at the same time. Instinctively you sprint forwards as fast as your feet carry you, breath going sharp and fast. No way in hell this thing will hurt Megumi. Not when you’re in charge.

“Bend over!”, you scream on top of your lungs, blade already on its way to cut through that curse.

But just before you hit it, its claws find their way into your face, scratching your forehead slightly before it falls to the ground lifelessly.

You hiss, a stinging pain crawling up your skin. But when you gently scan the spot with your fingertips, only a minor stain of blood shows itself. You let out your breath, relief flooding your body. This is nothing serious, nothing to worry about.

But before you sprint back in action, a reflex holds you back.

“Don’t move an inch, Megumi”, you warn the boy next to you.

In the split of a second, a wave of hollow purple rushes past your orbs, killing every curse on its way. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, heartbeat picking up in an instant. It’s him. It has to be him.

“(y/n)!”, he cries out, large frame suddenly by your side.

“What is this?”, he hisses.

Frantically, his eyes scan your forehead, widen in blank horror.

“Oh, this? Just a minor wound, nothing to worry ab-“

“Nothing to worry about!? You promised to be careful, you promised not to get hurt!”, he literally scolds you while his fingertips inspect your wound.

“Stop that”, you warn him, slapping his hand away.

“I did the best I could but they were just too many. And there are always more to come, look.”

Not even a minute later, dozens of new curses begin to flood the streets.

“We need to get back to work!”

“No”, he interrupts you roughly.

“Not you, you’ll stay here.”

You can’t believe your ears, mouth too stunned to speak for a second. He can’t be serious, right? This is your mission. You won’t give up because a small wound on your forehead that isn’t even bleeding severely.

“This is my mission, Satoru. I will help you exorcising these curses”, you state in all seriousness.

“Oh yeah? Watch me, then.”

You aren’t able to react any further. With breathtaking speed, Satoru lunges from curse to curse, ripping their heads off in the most violent way you have ever seen while all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. Of course you always knew that your husband is not to be trifled with when it comes to his precious wife, but you’ve never thought that his concern would reach as far as him going berserk because of you.

Because of a minor laceration on your forehead.

It doesn’t even take him 30 seconds to kill all the curses entirely, leaving you completely speechless and a little dizzy. When he walks towards you, a maniac smile is plastered on his blood-covered face.

“No one is hurting my wife and gets away with it. Especially not some random curse”, he announces under his breath, gaze still stone cold.

“How are you feeling, love? Is your head doing okay? Did you get injured somewhere else?”

As soon as his eyes meet yours, they are filled with nothing but concern and love, making your heart skip a beat.

“N-No…I’m fine…”, you stutter while getting lost in his bright blue orbs all over again.

His hands roam around your body gently, gaze scanning every inch of you with that worried expression plastered on his face. Moments like these show you with all urgency how much you really mean to your husband.

“I will kill every single curse walking on this earth to save you, (y/n)”, he speaks out with low voice, lips hungrily brushing over yours so strongly expressed that you feel like fainting.

“I’m sorry you were worried”, you mumble against his mouth.

“You’ll never get hurt by a curse again. I’ll make sure of that.”

[muniimyg]

4: the cold // series m.list

note: reblogging w fic taglist cos the limit is annoying n my posts keep glitching </3 sorry for the long wait! i literally finished c2u and was working on c2u's extras as well as attempting to keep my life together LOL . this jk is literally GETTING INTO IT YUHHH . hope everyone is enjoying the story ,, i'm so excited for the rest ! we're halfway thru :( if u missed aao jk ,, lmk ur fave moment of his as of now huhuhuuuu

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar @jkslvsnella @parkinglot-nights @kissyfacekoo

//

Picture this. 

Jungkook sent you a text, claiming to be sick. He said:

jungkook (liar) 3:09PM: no fr i get so dizzy standing up lol

jungkook (liar) 3:09PM: deadass i’m wearing like 7 layers and i’m chilly af .. need the warmth of ur arms, baby 🙏🏼

jungkook (liar) 3:10PM: do u think u can come by w some medicine? i’d owe u like… my whole heart

jungkook (liar) 3:10PM: nvm gave that to u already 😘✋🏽

Your natural response to his concerning text messages was to call him. When you called to check up on him, you noted how he coughed at every perfect pause... How his voice was toned groggy with a hint of pathetic. 

Just as pathetic as his lie. 

Does he think you're dumb? Fine. Two can play this game.

The second Jungkook opens the door and is greeted by his friends, grinning goofily with alcohol in their hands—he feels the urge to shut the door at their face. “Ah, for fucks sake—”

“Not so fast!” Hobi squeals as he grabs your wrists and tugs you from the back of the crowd to the front. Offering you to Jungkook, Hobi winks, “I believe this belongs to you.”

Jungkook’s eyes soften at the sight of you.

Lowering his head, he purses his lips for a kiss. You blink at him, letting him stand there like a fool. A few of his friends chuckle at the rejection, but it doesn’t dishearten Jungkook. Instead, he lifts his head and carries on. 

Hey, the kiss was worth a shot. 

With a patient tone, he tries to talk this out. “I thought it was just going to be you coming over...”

Shrugging at him, you answer; “And I thought you were sick.” 

"Well, what can I say? I always feel better whenever you're around." Jungkook chides.

Unimpressed, you tsk at him. “Nice try, buddy.”

Your hunch was right.

Jungkook wasn't sick.

There was no eye bag in sight, no cough to be heard, and with the short amount of time it took him to answer the door; he doesn't seem dizzy at all. If anything, he looks freshly showered and prepared.

For a sick man, his 5PM fit was rather suggestive. He's wearing jeans, and a white wife beater with an off-white button-up unbuttoned. He must know he's hot, right? He wore this on purpose.

"A little dressed up for someone who should be pretending to be sick..." you poke his chest.

Jungkook grins, instantly shrugging his button-up off. "Oh, my bad. Here, I'll undress and—"

"Jungkook!" you gasp as you tug his button-up back on. "Your friends are here! Don't be so shameless—"

"Whose fault is that?" he laughs. "___, was I not clear when I asked for you? You. Not the circus.”

“Hey!” Nam Joon cries from the crowd. “Are you calling me a clown?”

Jungkook lifts his head and shakes it. Smiling at his hero, he assures Nam Joon; “Not you, hyung. I love you.”

Earning a few laughs, the moment ends when Jin interrupts and pushes past you. Jungkook places his arm in front of your body, gently moving you against the wall. He shoots Jin a glare but Jin doesn't seem to catch on. He makes one final comment before inviting himself into Jungkook's home; “Stop sucking Joon's dick and let us in!”

As his friends cheer and begin to invade his home, you stand still and laugh at them hustling in. As they make random remarks, Jungkook warns them not to touch certain things in his living room and that his bedroom is off-limits. Walking in, his friends can't help but feel out of place when they spot the homecooked meal Jungkook prepared for you two. The table is all set up. The projector is ready to go in the living room corner, accompanied by the ever so comfy set up of pillows and fuzzy blankets on the couch… The fuzzy blanket on the couch that Taehyung and Hobi have now wrapped themselves in.

Yeah..

Jungkook did not see this coming. He groans at the very sight. His plans were ruined.

Once Jimin gets his little ass inside, you take that as your cue to head in. You duck under Jungkook's arm and just as you think you’re about to get away—he stops you. He takes a step back and swoops his other arm around your waist.

“Not so fast.”

You huff. “Okay. I’ll walk in slow motion—”

“___…” Jungkook says in a warning tone. “Yah, I said I was sick and you show up here with my friends?”

You poke his chest. “I had a feeling you were up to no good. I brought reinforcement.”

For the most part, Jungkook likes to think he has you figured out. Then, you pull shit like this and he is completely tongue-tied.

Jungkook can’t help but applaud your move. It’s petty and nonchalant… It’s well played. Yet, he feels bittersweet at the very realization that you’ve outsmarted him so early on. 

To be fair, his main moves are centered around lies. 

… Is it so wrong that he thought he could at least get one last good lie before facing the truth?

The truth is that he has grown to like you so much he has completely lost control of his words and thoughts. Every time he’s around you—that’s it. That’s the entire moment. That’s his entire world. He doesn’t know how to keep it that way, you know? He hasn’t figured out how to freeze time and just be with you. So, he lies. He lies in an attempt to make the moment last just a second longer. 

He knows he could have you with a simple conversation and his bunny smile. He knows he’s kindhearted and would be a great boyfriend if you let him… He’s just having a hard time navigating through all the feelings. They consume him faster and fiercer than he expected. The only way to keep up is to keep you near, and the only way to keep you near is to keep making excuses. 

Thus, this week’s excuse. 

He huffs at you. "A home-cooked meal, a movie on my projector, and comfy blankets... Means I'm up to no good? Come on, ___. This is ridiculous!"

"You've been so mischievous ever since—"

"It was just the ice skating thing!" Jungkook defends himself.

"It was also the pocky thing—"

His eyes light up. Jungkook’s lips curve into a smirk. "Ah... Thinking about our kiss, huh?"

Now you feel sick.

Was he serious? How does he do this to you? He says everything so bluntly and out of pocket, your tummy has no choice but to flip upside down and feel all the butterflies flutter.

"N-no!" you panic.

"Pucker up and prove me wrong," Jungkook insists, shutting his eyes and pursing his lips at you. "Like you said, I'm not sick. Kissing me won't get you sick—love sick, maybe..."

You cross your arms at him.

"Jungkook."

Opening his eyes one at a time, he puts his hands up and lets you go. He'll admit defeat here. Clearly, you aren't happy with his moves...

He'll try this.

He'll try honesty.

“___," he smiles, attempting to lighten the mood. "Hey, I was trying to—”

“Flirt?” you finish his sentence. “Yeah, sure… Has it ever occurred to you that you can flirt with me without lying?”

His eyes widen. 

“Does it bother you that much?” He asks, feeling like he is completely messed up. “I’m sorry, baby. I thought it was harmless—”

You shake your head, denying his accusation. It was deeper than that. It is the principal and the root of his lying being a habit in your relationship.

“It’s not that it bothers me that much… It's just... Y-you don't have to do all this, you know? I like getting to know you, but it feels like it's impossible. You keep setting up scenarios for yourself to look good in or for me to take care of you in. I'd do it regardless if you're hurt or not. You know that, right?"

"I do," Jungkook agrees. "I just..."

You look at him with sincere eyes. "Jungkook, I'm just not understanding... Why? It’s just weird to me that you were so confident and honest when you confessed. To be honest, I really admire that part of you. B-but now that you’re… That w-we’re…. Uhmm—it's different. You're acting differently. You can flirt with me all you want. It's whatever... But maybe try something else? I'm tired of you lying, Jungkook.”

He gulps.

"You want honesty?" Jungkook begins. "Here it is... I like you too much. Like, so much that I don't know what to do with myself whenever you're around—not to mention it's even worse when you're not. I want your attention. All the time. Everything about me for everything about you."

"Jungkook—"

"Can you wait for me?" He asks you unexpectedly. "Wait for me to get it right... Because I know I can. I will get it right."

When you two join everyone inside, Jungkook’s apartment is filled with so much chaos it’s difficult for him not to A) partake and B) be upset about everyone crashing his date night (by ambush). 

Honestly, Jungkook’s been pretty busy lately. He’s been neglecting his social life as school, work, and you (not that he’s complaining) have been taking over. In a way, he finds it sweet that you ruined his plans with yours. Especially since you came in with all his friends. It was a nice surprise. He will definitely take note of your sneaky ways too. 

By the time everyone gets hungry, there’s barely any space for anyone to eat. Some friends are sitting on the floor, eating off the coffee table or parts of the couch. Others are eating standing up, and the rest crowd over his tiny kitchen island and dining table. There are a few girls you’ve invited here and just as usual, you all went to the bathroom together. As you all enter back into the scene, there is absolutely no space. 

“___!” Jin calls you over. “Eat with us.”

You look at the girls and exchange laughs. They tease you before pushing to towards the dining table. As you approach, you realize there’s barely space let alone a seat. Without much thought, you gravitate towards Jungkook who is sitting and eating. Squeezing your way through, he notices you and nods towards Hobi. Hobi then responds by handing you a plate of food Jungkook set aside for you. Taking the plate, you thank Hobi. Jungkook then pushes his chair back and just as he’s about to get up from his seat to give to you—

“No, it’s okay. Sit.” You insist. 

“But you don’t have a seat—”

Then, it happens so naturally.

You place your plate on the table next to his and take a seat on his lap. When you do this, all the boys exchange looks but say nothing. Their eyes almost pop out of their head and Hobi even chokes on his food. He tries to hide it and turns away so you don’t think twice about it. They’re all aware of how shy you are and this? This was a big thing for Jungkook that they couldn’t ruin. You were finally coming out of your shell.

Thank god.

Meanwhile, Jungkook feels winded. 

He can’t believe this. 

He can’t believe you.

But given the circumstances… He might just have to. So, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he smiles at you warmly and tells you that he put all your favourites on your plate. He tells you to eat everything and that he ordered strawberry bingsoo for dessert. 

“I love strawberries!” you gasp. Looking up, you bat your eyelashes and tease him, “yah, you make it too obvious you have a crush on me… You know that?” 

Jungkook squints at you, followed by scrunching his nose. You lean against his forehead and mimic his little stare. 

It takes everything in him to not lean in and kiss you.

Slowly but surely, everyone leaves. The only ones left are you, Jungkook, and the other 6 clowns. Yoongi and Jin went out to start the cars while Joon, Taehyung, Jimin, and Hobi finished up taking the trash out or washing the dishes. 

You and Jungkook are tidying the living room. He thanks you for organizing the little get-together and apologizes again for lying to you about being sick. You tell him it wasn’t that serious—it was just built-up confusion and frustration. Further, you tell him that you don’t want him to see you as someone that he has to jump through hoops to spend time with. You tell him you want it too. You want to spend time with him too. You want to get to know him too. 

You want to fall in love—

"I can do that," Jungkook nods, understanding where you're coming from. Your thoughts are interrupted as he fluffs the final pillow and grabs your hands. He squeezes them and then lets go. "But only if you stop being so oblivious. At least try, you know? It's hard for me too. Like, we're dating and I'm trying to woo you and shit—"

Dating?

Woo you?

Shit.

Your heart skips a beat.

"Wait," you pause. "Jungkook, a-are we dating?”

Just when he opens his mouth to speak, Hobi interrupts. 

“___, let’s go! Jin wants to race Yoongi!” 

Jungkook blinks at Hobi. “You’re not racing when ___’s in the car. Are you mad?”

Hobi lifts his hands. “Shit man, I’m just the messenger!”

Without skipping a beat, Jungkook turns to you with stern eyes. “I’ll drive you home.”

You decline. “You’re already home. Relax, it’s Jin. He’s all talk and no bite.”

“___…”

As a compromise, you promise him; “I’ll ride in Yoongi’s car.”

He thinks about it for a moment. Then, he realizes he has no other practical choice. “Fine. At least if you guys do race, you’ll be in the winning car.”

Hobi coughs. “Yo, what the fuck? I’m riding in Jin’s.”

You laugh and tell Hobi you’ll meet them out the door in a second. Hobi leaves immediately, yelling at Jimin to trade spots with him so he can ride with Yoongi. Once he’s out the door, Jungkook’s apartment falls in silence. 

“.... I better get going,” you breathe. “I’ll see you around?”

Scanning his apartment, you smile at the sight of everything being tidy. Picking up your feet, you head towards the door. Like a sad puppy, Jungkook trails behind you.

As you head out, Jungkook feels an urge in his stomach to make this moment last longer. “Oh... S-sure. See you at the library tomorrow?”

“You hate the library.”

“No, I don’t—”

“It’s also Saturday tomorrow.”

Jungkook blinks at you. “I love spending my Saturdays in the library.”

Giggling at his awful attempt, you remind him, “hey, we just talked about you and your fibs—”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jungkook surrenders. He puts his hands up and tilts his head. Pouting as you put your shoes on, he continues to ramble. “See what I mean? I say the wildest things just to be with you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, plopping back up. Jungkook then helps you put your jacket on and gives you your tote bag. “Whatever you say, liar.”

He rolls his eyes at you. As you open the door, you face him with a silly face. He ruffles your hair as he bids his farewell, “Goodnight. Text me when you get home, baby.” 

Then, just like that, the door shuts and Jungkook is all alone.

As he turns away and finally feels like he can catch his breath after everything that happened between you two tonight, he hears the door knock. Turning back, he reaches for the doorknob, opens the door, and sees you standing there. 

“Did you forget something?”

“Goodnight kiss.”

He draws a blank. 

“What—”

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat as you tiptoe and reach for the nape of his neck and pull him close. Leaning in, you press your lips against him and kiss him softly. Without hesitating, he kisses you back and chases your lips the second you pull away. 

You pull away too fast for his liking.

“Okay, goodnight—”

He kisses you again, deepening it as much as he can. When you pull away to catch your breath, he sneaks in one last kiss. Then, he kisses your cheeks and turns you around. Before sending you off, he teases you one last time. 

“Go away. I hate you.”

Laughing at his words, you realize that sometimes—they aren’t so bad.

Him and his lies.

You and your reading in between lines.

[shawtuzi]

i’m still deciding whether i want to write for ellie or abby in my next tlou fic but until then pls enjoy these construction worker!eren hc’s bc i am sooo thirsty for him

cw include: black fem!reader, lots of fluff, lots of smut, eren being the cutest thing ever

sfw

construction worker!eren whose only dream in this life is to have a pretty wife with a litter of kids and a big ass house to go with it. he’s already slipped a gorgeous fat rock on your finger and talks of getting pregnant with your first child were slowly but surely happening which meant he was getting closer and closer to what he truly wanted most.

construction worker!eren who is a total mommas boy!! his mom is so very dear to him and to know she adores you just as much as him makes him so so happy.

construction worker!eren who looks so cute in his everyday work outfit. whenever he’s got his hard hat on around you you can’t help but knock on it a few times but it’s okay he thinks it’s super cute.

construction worker!eren who starts his day a six-thirty every morning and is always home by five o’clock on the dot. his morning routine consists of giving your forehead and lips a sweet good morning kiss as soon as his eyes open, a quick fifteen minute shower with music softly playing in the back (usually the trapsoul album by bryson tiller), making a big ass pot of coffee bc lord knows he’ll need it with the airheads he works with, quadruple checking to make sure there’s food in the fridge and pantry for you, another sweet kiss to your lips before he heads out, and then spending five minutes trying to pry you off of him while you beg him to take the day off. “m’sorry sugarplum i cant take off today, gotta save up for that big house we want you know how it is,” he’d always say before shushing your whines with a kiss full of tongue n passion.

construction worker!eren who is so tired and sore when he gets off work but is never too sore to accept one of your bone crushing hugs as soon as he walks through the door to your shared apartment. he’s always extra careful to make sure his hands that are usually covered in residue don’t touch your clothes even though you could literally care less.

construction worker!eren who facetimes you everyday around the same time to enjoy your company while he’s on his lunch break. usually the conversations consists of you telling him to make sure he’s applying a lot of sunscreen (bc this heat was nothing to play about), your plans for what you were making for dinner, and if anyone happened to piss him off that day you’ll surely hear about it.

“how’s your lunch?” you asked giving eren a loving smile as you watched him practically devour the leftover lasagna from last nights dinner. he wiped his mouth with a napkin before speaking, a content smile on his lips. “food is perfect honey tastes just as good as it did last night,” you smiled at his words but it faltered just the slightest bit when you saw how reddish pink his cheeks were. “baby have you put on any sunscreen yet? weather app says it’s supposed to be almost a hundred out today,” you pouted wishing so desperately that he was there so you could give his little sunburns kisses. eren observed his face in the tiny box on the corner of his phone, letting out a small hum. “don’t worry about me sugar i’ll put some on before we get off the phone,” he gave you a comforting smile which you returned. you folded your freshly manicured hands together before speaking, “so…for dinner i was thinking steak kabobs?” “now we’re fuckin’ talking”

construction worker!eren whose nicknames for you are sugar, sugarplum, honey, angel, and my honeysuckle (which is a type of flower heje)

construction worker!eren whose stomach is almost as big as his heart lol this man loves him a good home cooked meal!!! he doesn’t know what he did to deserve a wife who feeds him as good as you do but you best believe he thanks his lucky stars everyday for it. and yes he’s fs the kind of man to completely devour his food in record time meanwhile you’ve barely made a dent in yours, this usually leads to you splitting the rest of yours with him bc this man always has room to eat more food.

you had decided to make steaks for dinner and like usual eren had devoured his plate in less than ten minutes. “was it good my love?” you giggled taking a bite of the roasted potatoes you made as side. bc he had a full mouth all eren was able to get out was a satisfied sounding ‘mhm!’ eren had washed his dishes and put them away before making his way back to the table to keep you company while you continued to eat your food, love and adoration swarming in those jade irises of his. without a word you swiftly got out of your chair and got comfy on his lap. eren didn’t say a word but by the way he was looking at your plate you could tell he was dying for another bite. you cut off a piece of steak and held the fork up to his lips with a smile, “go ahead take a bite i know you wanna.” without a second thought eren took a bite and for the rest of dinner you took turns feeding him and yourself.

construction worker!eren who becomes even more attentive and loving than he already is once you’re finally pregnant!!! you have morning sickness?? he’s right behind you rubbing your back and even offers to brush your teeth for you after you’ve finished. you need your feet rubbed?? prop them up and he’ll get straight to work. he even takes more days off work than usual bc he misses your touch just as much as you miss his. ever since he found out there was a little him growing in you he frequently started talking to your belly.

construction worker!eren is a girl dad no ifs, ands, or buts!!!!! crazy story but he had the strongest feeling you were having a girl and low and behold on the day of your gender reveal you found out you were having a girl!! yes he cried like a baby himself and yes connie has it on video.

construction worker!eren who treats your daughter like she’s the finest china when she’s finally born :( the first time he did skin to skin contact with her he swore his heart was gonna explode with how much love his had for the tiny human in his arms. and once she was sound asleep in her lil bed he was quick to leave the hospital to buy you whatever foods you were craving—you deserved the best princess treatment for bringing his lil princess into the world.

construction worker!eren who keeps a polaroid pic of you, him, and your newborn daughter in his worn out wallet, showing it to everyone at his job…and a couple strangers….he rlly can’t help it you two are his pride and joy <333

“hey reiner did i ever show you this picture?” eren beamed holding up the polaroid in reiner’s face for the third time that day. reiner chuckled a bit before nodding, “yes eren you showed me, she’s a cute one you and y/n are lucky,” he smiled and eren nodded in agreement, still staring down at the picture. “yeah…m’the luckiest guy in the world aren’t i?”

nsfw

construction worker!eren who is six foot six and pure muscle. it’s a wonder how he eats so good and manages to look even better but hey! you weren’t complaining. he certainly was lacking down there either baby he’s the full package. his dicks eight and a half inches with two prominent veins on the underside that rubbed against your sensitive walls in the most delicious way possible.

construction worker!eren who has a raging breeding kink but is that really a surprise? whenever you two fuck and he’s able to rlly take his time with you i kid you not he has to cum inside you at least three times or he will not be satisfied. sometimes whenever he pulls out he’ll push down on your lower belly and watch his cum spill out with dark, predatory eyes. majority of the time he’ll use that as an excuse to fill you up for the umpteenth time bc he just cannot let any of his precious cum go to waste.

“so pretty,” eren had a lazy smile on his face as he watched three orgasms worth of cum ooze out of your puffy, spent pussy. just when you thought he had his fill and was ready for a much needed good nights rest you felt his one softening dick begin to harden up against your still trembling thighs. “eren…” you whimpered, but he just shushed you with a kiss mumbling a quick ‘jus one more’ before slipping back inside you with ease. he was extremely low on energy so he wasn’t quite able to fuck into you like a madman like he was before so he just settled for grinding into you. “o-oh honey! f-fuck!” you squealed wrapping your legs around his waist. between his swollen tip continuously bumping into your stomach, and the coarse hairs on his pelvis rubbing against your sensitive clit you were slowly but surely going dumb. “yeah jus’ like that, f-fuck yeah let daddy fuck a baby into you baby c’mon make me cum.”

construction worker!eren who is nawt a fan of quickies at all!! he’s a man that likes to savor the moment when it comes to sex and if he’s able to admire the faces and sounds you make then what’s the point?? when he’s got you all to himself expect to be occupied for the next couple of hours bc like i stated before he’s not satisfied until he’s cum in you at least three times and made you cum twice as much!!

construction worker!eren who is a certified MUNCH!!!! this man loves having his mouth on your pussy and yes if ur wondering he definitely eats it through your panties. he’s so sloppy and loud with it you’d almost be embarrassed if he didn’t completely turn you dumb whenever he tongue fucked your weeping pussy :(

“mm renny,” your brows scrunched together in pleasure as eren sloppily ran his tongue up and down your soaked folds. his hair was still damp from his shower and was slowly soaking the couch from the droplets falling from his locs but neither of you seemed to care. “couldn’t stop thinking about you today…i mean i already think of you all day but i kept thinking about you in that way and fuck it was so hard to focus. reiner almost ripped my head off from how distracted i was,” as he was talking he was pressing sloppy, wet kisses all over your cunt and the inside of your thighs. he inserted two fingers easily into your dripping center and couldn’t help the groan that rumbled in his chest when he saw how tight you were squeezing his fingers. “you got the prettiest pussy honey, you know that right?” he gave you a small smile before spitting directly on your clit making you jolt. you whined in embarrassment ofc and covered your face with a near throw pillow, whimpering out a pathetic ‘stop ren s’embarrasing.’ eren just hummed and attached his mouth back to your pussy, wrapping his slightly swollen lips around your throbbing clit, “m’never gonna fuckin stop my pretty little honeysuckle never ever.”

construction worker!eren who is a biggg fan of the 69 position. sometimes you suck him so good he tends to lose focus but you don’t mind in the slightest. your big strong man never stops working whether he’s on or off the clock so if he gets a little consumed in his own pleasure who are you to snap him out of it?? if you’re putting some serious work in he’ll moan n groan so loud into your pussy you could cum alone just from that!!

construction worker!eren who had the prettiest moans *sighs dreamily* he’s never shy to let you know you’re making him feel good and it’s so fucking hot hearing his breathy whines and moans especially when he accidentally overstimulates himself which he happens to do a lot heh. you’ve definitely had a couple complaints from neighbors bc of the noise but he don’t even give a fuck!! he knows it turns you on more than anything to hear him be so vocal so why on earth would he ever stop??

construction worker!eren who was soo nervous when you suggested having sex while you were pregnant. it was no problem for him at first but once you started showing that’s when the panic started to settle in—he was so afraid he’d accidentally hurt you or the baby that he kinda went on an sex hiatus much to your dismay, but after some convincing be finally gave in.

you were on your side and he was spooning you from behind, giving your shoulder or neck a kiss of encouragement every once in a while. “jus’ let me know if it hurts at all or you’re uncomfortable okay? cant believe you talked me into this…” eren mumbled into your shoulder. you replied with a soft ‘mhm’ your patience wearing thinner by the second. it had been a good couple of weeks since you and eren last had sex and you were almost sure you were beginning to lose your mind. you’d finally had enough when he came home from his morning jog looking like an absolute dream with his chest heaving and brown baby hairs sticking to his forehead. that’s how he ended up here: one hand securely holding onto your small bump while his other was slowly pushing his dick inside your awaiting entrance. “oh wow…” your eyes fluttered shut in pure bliss, toes curling once he bottomed out. “f-fuck that feel okay hun?” it felt more than okay. you brought your hand to your clit and began rubbing quick circles to dull out the stinging stretch. eren peeped this and replaced yours with his own, the rough pads of his fingers on your clit had your lips trembling. “y-you need to stop this—hah! sex strike and fuck me more please i—i miss this,” eren heard your plea and nodded feverishly. god was he a fool for ever depriving yourselves of each other, he will never be doing this again.

[madamechrissy]

Dirty Little Secret

ꕥ Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, dirty talk, Toji calls reader 'doll, ma, slut (Toji and Doll just work lol) Age gap- reader is 21, Toji is 39. - This chapter-rough sex, anal sex, whipping, daddy kink, breeding kink, squirting, face slapping, oral (fem receiving) FREAKY ass chap lmao, reader is a brat and Toji is a whole freak

ꕥ Word Count-this chap- 7k

ꕥ Summary- Toji Fushiguro is your dad Shiu's best friend for years. You've known him most your life. You come home for spring break to relax, and who pops up at the fucking doorstep? Toji. He's nasty, annoying, perverted and... Sexy. Hot. Built. And makes you think, maybe your first time shouldn't be with some college boy? But with this buff dude who can tie a cherry stem with his tongue and a scar on his damn lip.

Chapter 9 - Masterlist - Playlist

Chapter 10

The next day

You and Toji Fushiguro are going on a date, it feels so… insane to say that out loud, but here you are in Toji’s Mustang, and his big hand is on your thigh, bare with the pretty little black dress you’re wearing. Your fingertips brush up and down his knuckles gently, feeling the roughness of his skin, and he keeps sneaking glances at you, tongue running along that scar so sexy.

Fuck how are you so attracted to a damn scar? To everything about him, how he’s wearing this dress shirt, so different from his thin gym tees, and you see how it has to stretch over his broad chest. He’s so fucking sexy, you find yourself rocking your hips side to side, thighs shifting. He smirks at you, dark green eyes darting to your bare thighs as you make that motion.

“Excited, doll?” He asks, and you flush a bit, as his fingers brush up and down your thigh, making you tremble.

“You do look really handsome, Mr. Fushiguro.” He snorts at that, rolling his eyes then focusing back on the road.

“Making me sound old as fuck, brat.”

“Well…”

“I’ll beat that ass.”

“You’re not old, silly.” You lean close, pecking a kiss on his cheek, with a little bit of stubble tickling your lips, and he sighs then, as you rest your head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent, so manly and he’s wearing some cologne you really like. “I can’t believe we’re going on a date.”

“So surprised? I have a girlfriend I never see, and haven’t taken out.” You tense a bit then, hearing the clear pain in his voice, as you chew your lower lip.

“I don’t think you’ve called me your girlfriend before.”

“Yeah because I’d like you as a wife.”

“You can’t say shit like that!” You pull away, crossing your arms and looking out the window, trying to control your rapidly beating heart.

“What shit, the truth?” He counters, yanking you back to him.

“That’s insane talk. You know it.”

“You think I am sugar coating shit, who the fuck do you think I am? I’m not gonna whisper sweet shit I don't mean, doll.” You blink back emotions, sighing.

“It’s crazy, Toji. How would it work?”

“Go to college online and move in.”

“And my dad!?”

“He’ll get over it when he has a grandbaby.”

“Toji!” He’s scowling, his hands tightening on the wheel as you glare right at him. “Where is all this coming from?”

“Where’s it coming from?” He scoffs, pulling up to a pretty restaurant then, parking and looking at you with his dark brows low. He turns off the car and then bends over, cupping your face. “Did I not tell you I’m fucking in love with your bratty ass?”

“And I love you, but… isn’t this just…”

“Just what?” His words are short, as you look down, but he snatches you by your chin, squishing your cheeks. “Just what, some fun on breaks? I told ya that’s not what I’m wanting. I want you.”

“And I want you. But it’s fucking scary.” He sighs, brushing your hair back, before cupping your face, slamming his lips on yours, and you meet him, hungry for more, kissing more and more, desperate and breathless soon.

“Want you to stay with me. In my arms, got me sappy and shit.” You giggle a bit, blinking back emotions as he whispers those words.

“Toji who knew, you’re so sappy-”

“I will beat you later. Beat your ass black and blue.” You get excited if anything, earning his sexy glare, a big hand squeezing your hip over your little dress. “Keep acting up, no date, I’ll fuck you right here.”

“Fine, fine I’ll be good!”

“Mmhmm.”

Toji is opening your door, but before you all go in he’s pressing you on the car, big hand gripping your ass now, and you feel heat pool, desire in your core, like you can’t breathe. He’s looming over you so big and tall, and you can’t stop the little whine that escapes your throat, earning his lidded gaze and exhale.

“Better be good. I’ll fuck you right here.”

“You will not!”

“Wanna bet, doll?” He licks his lips and your hands slide up his chest now, head tilting back to look up at him.

“No, you’re fucking crazy, you just might.” Toji’s chuckling now, and then kisses you softly, sweeter than usual, intoxicating you with how multifaceted he is, as you peel back all his layers slowly. “Let’s go, I’m excited!”

“Come on, then.” He’s holding you by the waist, hand on the small of your back, as you both head to the pretty restaurant, it’s a steakhouse and much nicer than you’d expect from Toji. For some reason you figured some seedy little place or something, you’re impressed as he pulls out a chair for you.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Fushiguro.” He scowls as he pushes your chair in, sitting all sexy and handsome across from you.

“You’re such a fucking brat. I’ll order you chicken nuggets, how about that kiddo?”

“Chicken nuggets!?”

“Mmm, so cheap too. Do we need crayons and shit-”

“Fuck you, old man!”

“Ahem… hello.” The waitress comes as you two stick your tongues out, and you cover your face, blushing as Toji chuckles, leaning back in his seat. You struggle to save face, kicking him under the table, and watching his knuckles go white as he’s clutching the little black table.

“Hello, he wants the kids meal-”

“Steak for me, kids meal for her-”

“You have to be twelve and under, I’m afraid.” She says seriously, and you and Toji burst into laughter, earning this girl’s confusion. You both struggle to hold in your laughter, getting more serious.

“Can I get a glass of white?” You ask, and she smiles then, nodding and tapping the tablet for your order.

“Can I see an ID?” You pull it out of your purse, showing her, and she then turns to Toji.

“Anything to drink, Sir?”

“Mmm, give me a beer.”

“Got it.”

“Card him too!” Now Toji is kicking at you, and you’re surely confusing this waitress.

“May I see your ID, Sir?” He rolls his green eyes, dark lashes fluttering, and you can’t stop the grin as he shows her the ID. “Very good, any appetizers?

Toji starts to order, and soon you and him are nibbling together, he’s handing you little bites of food, he is scooching your chair next to him, and you’re right next to him now, his big hand burning your skin. You bite your lip, snuggling to his shoulder and sipping your wine.

“Fuck this is nice.” You say softly, Toji hums at that, thumb brushing your inner thigh and making you overheated, as you look up at his eyes, dilated by the soft lights of the restaurant.

“It is nice, could be all the time if you’d live with me.”

“You know that’s-”

“Crazy. Ya keep saying that like we’re not crazy together period.” You sigh, running a fingertip along the glass then.

“That’s true. I mean, theoretically I can do journalism anywhere, it’s all from my computer mostly.”

“See, there you go. You can do that and clean my house-”

“Hell no.”

You both laugh again, as you roll your eyes, as his hand slips up more, taking your breath away. “You like that idea.”

“Shh, you’re so misogynistic.”

“And you eat it up.” He whispers, thumb brushing your already damp panties, you struggle not to cry out, as his touch makes you so needy.

“Maybe.” You admit, and he smirks, eyes lidded as he leans down, turning slightly to kiss your temple, but he’s now rubbing your achy clit in circles, and you bury your face against his neck, crying out your pleasure as quietly as you can. He exhales, kissing down to your ear.

“You’re my little slut, ain’t ya doll?” He cooes ever so quietly, and you just nod eagerly, there’s no sense acting otherwise, you’re letting him run his fingers under your lacy panties, letting the rough pad of his middle finger circle your clit, which twitches in response. Your nails dig into his strong arm, as you struggle to act normal. “Asked ya a question.”

“Yes, I am, Daddy.” You whisper back, and then he’s shoved a thick digit in your little entrance, and you bite your lip so hard it hurts, as you’re gushing around his finger, just barely inside you. “Oh my… fuck…”

“So easy, so wet already, just f’me, huh?” You just nod, then the waitress comes back with your food, and Toji eases back, sucking on his finger blatantly, making your mouth drop as he grins over at you. “Yummy. Looks yummy, yeah doll?”

“Um… uh huh.” Your hands shake as you shut your eyes for a moment, struggling to come to, the man ruins your brain.

Soon you all are digging in, as you try to cool down, then suddenly after about twenty minutes of laughing, of flirting, and of talking shit with the man you’re stupid in love with, a woman comes up to you. She saunters, so tall with blond hair, muscular and lean, swaying her hips in a gorgeous red dress.

“If it isn’t Toji fuckin Fushiguro.” She speaks all sultry, trailing a hand across Toji’s broad shoulder, over his starch business shirt, earning his glare.

“Sure is. Ya need something, Hana?” She scoffs then, leaning down, and Toji takes her hand off his shoulder, as she’s got her perky little breasts full on display, to the point you can see her nipples almost.

“A girl can’t say hi?”

“Nah, not when I’m with someone.”

“I see. And who’s this?” Her voice is purring, you outright scowl at the pretty woman, then glare at Toji, who’s covering his face and wiping down it with a tired expression.

“I’m his girlfriend.” You say then, and Toji smiles, scar stretching as his lips quirk up. She scoffs then, looking wildly at Toji.

“You, dating? Since fuckin when?”

“Yeah, so what’s it to you?” His voice is terse with her. She huffs a bit, crossing her arms and analyzing you.

“So, what, we fuck steadily for a year, and you go get some young little girl to date now? Don’t want someone your own age, Fushiguro?”

Toji scowls, his dark brows low over his eyes, jaw tense. “Not that at all, just didn’t wanna date you.”

She gasps and you can’t stop your laughter, even when you try to sober up, earning more of her ire. “She’s like a teenager!?”

“I’m twenty one. See.” You hold up your wine glass, as people are starting to look at you all.

“You’re interrupting our date. Go on now.” Toji waves a hand dismissively, earning more of her anger, as she then takes your glass of wine and splashes it right in your face. You gasp at that, standing up then, chest to chest, as Toji stands up, furious, scowling.

“Excuse me, bitch? I didn’t do shit to you.” You shove at her with open palms, making her nearly topple backwards.

“Why don’t you go back to school and get someone your own age?” She bites out those words, and you raise a brow.

“I’m gonna give you a minute to leave before I fuck you up.” You ball up fists then, and she turns, scoffing.

“Stupid little whore-”

Well, you gave her a chance, yeah?

You grab her by her hair then, knocking her on the floor, and now the entire restaurant is in shock, watching as you straddle her in your pretty black dress, and you hold your hand up. “Drink, Toji.”

He chuckles, handing you his beer, and you smirk as you pour the entire amber contents of the pint on her face, and she sputters under you, a whole sloppy fucking mess now. She’s clinging to her face as you stand, laughing maniacally as her makeup drips down her face in streaks, and she opens her eyes only to shut them again, screaming.

Toji is chuckling right with you now, as she shakes some of the liquid off, scowling at you. “How dare you!”

“You spilled one on me first, so.”

“Immature little kid.”

“Says you, the woman who comes and starts shit with a man that didn’t wanna date her? He’s mine, got it?” You snatch him up by his arm, as he looks to you practically with hearts in his damn eyes.

“Miss, we must ask you to leave.” The manager comes then, and she screeches, pointing at you and stomping.

“But she did this to me!”

“Yes everyone saw you approach and throw a drink at her. You need to pay your bill and leave.” She is dragged away, and Toji pulls you to him, tilting your chin, but you shove at him.

“I’m mad at you, too.” You hiss through your teeth, and he scoffs, gripping your shoulders tightly.

“Excuse me, brat? Lemme just find you sexy right now….”

“Nope. Check please.”

*****

You two are both outside now, screaming at each other as Toji carries your little take home bag, as you get in the car he throws it at your lap. You shove it back in the passenger seat now, as you feel the adrenaline pumping, sure you’re furious at that bitch, who’s now flipping you off on the sidewalk, but you’re also upset that this is what happens on your date.

Toji was a hoe.

“Put on your fuckin seatbelt, now brat.” He orders, snapping it then, and you unsnap it, just for him to snap it again, and you to unsnap it, smacking at his hand. “The fuck are you mad at me for!?”

“Is that what I’ll deal with!? Your hoe life all over.”

“Look, I didn’t ask her to be a bitch. Put on this fuckin seatbelt, or I swear you won’t be able to sit.” You take a shaky breath, as both of your chests heave, and the energy in the car is so intense you can’t take it.

“Fine!” You let him snap it as he starts the car with a shaky hand.

“Can’t take you anywhere, can I?”

“Me!? Me!?”

“Yeah you, causing a whole scene with that temper, angry little elf.”

“Elf!”

“Hard of hearing?”

“Fuck off! I’m mad because you clearly had something serious enough she’s bothering me. She said you fucked her for a year.”

“And, so what, now I fuck you, get over it.”

“Aw, romantic.”

Toji’s eyes narrow as they set on you, as you two sit at a red light in the quiet night. “Who’s on a date, you or her, brat!?

You laugh, shaking your head. “Fuck you Toji.”

His laugh is harsh. “Fuck me, fuck me?”

“Yep. Fuck you.”

“You’re mad at me for what?”

“Being a manwhore!”

Toji’s forearms, visible in the evening, those veins wrapping around them turn you on far too much, as he grips that steering wheel so tightly, and you struggle to remember why you’re mad. “You knew it when you fucked me. And guess what? I’m good at fucking the shit out of your little pussy ain’t I?”

His words hit hard, and you feel it, right in your core, that deep husky voice and nasty words. “Pfft. Maybe.”

“You really talking shit like that, doll?”

“Sure am. How many more women will I meet?”

“Probably a lot. What’s it matter, I am with you, annoying little bitch.”

“And you’re such a hoe.”

“Means I eat pussy like a champ.” You gasp, smacking his hand as he grips your thigh.

“You ate her out, that makes me mad. So mad. Should have punched her.” Toji laughs now, only serving to make him more attractive and make you more angry, an infuriating mix.

“Doll, you were a baby when I fucked most of these women, couldn’t even legally touch you!? What, you wanted me to be some virgin? My kid is your friend, clearly I’ve been fucking a long time.”

“Ugh, whatever. Fuck you.” You cross your arms as he pulls up to his home, and he’s at your door in a flash, dragging you and shutting it with a loud thud as he’s pulling you further. When he’s inside he’s shoving you against the front door, hands on either side of you, and you see his vein pulsing in his jaw at how angry he is.

“Fuck me, huh brat?” I think I’ll fuck that attitude outta ya.” He grabs your hair roughly now, pricking your eyes with tears, towering over you, and you find yourself strangely excited.

Is it strange?

Toji has always had this effect, when he’s mad at you and you get soaking wet, your cunt right now is just dripping, as you ache for him. You tilt your chin up then, narrowing your eyes, not remembering just why you were so mad at Toji, but now he’s got you on one.

“I have a right to be mad, old man.”

“No, you don’t, I clearly stopped everything since Spring break. I didn’t even look at anyone the whole time I was gone.” You blink back tears then, as he’s got his other hand gripping your waist so tight you can’t stand it, gripping the silk material of your dress, bunched in his hands.

“You really didn’t?” You whisper, and he sighs, lips just an inch away from yours now, and you can taste him, that taste that fucking kills you, as you both pant heavily, as he’s scowling at you.

“How could I see anyone but you, little fucking brat. You think I want anyone the fuck else?”

“She was all elegant, and pretty… and…” You’re sniffling now, as your insecurities hit you, and Toji sighs.

“Ain’t shit compared to you. Y’know how beautiful you fuckin are!? You know how sexy? How perfect your body is?” You tremble, as he turns you then, pressing you against the door face forward, unzipping your dress, baring your skin to his hungry gaze and his hot touch. “I’ll take you in a Hello Kitty bikini over any bitch.”

Fuck.

You’re being petty, stupid. You sigh, trying to calm down now, but he’s simultaneously putting you over the edge of how bad you want him. “T-Toji… M’sorry. I let it get to me. Am I just young, stupid!? I…” You gasp as he yanks your dress down, pulling it past your hips, and he moans softly, hands sliding down your every curve and line.

“You’re young, you’re stupid-”

You glare back at him. “Hey!”

He chuckles a bit. “But you’re beautiful. You’re mine. My little doll, don’t you fuckin know?” He kisses down your spine then, pressing hot trails of his lips as you step out of your dress, as he eases those heels off your feet.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You didn’t even know me…”

“I knew you, but you were barely twenty, off limits. Think I didn’t jack off to you then?”

“I’m dumb, fuck.”

“Mmm, you were a virgin. It’s all it is. But you’re not now, are you?” You shake your head, as he smacks your ass gently, one cheek than the other. “And when you threw her to the ground, lemme tell ya how hard ya got me?”

“I did?” He chuckles, kissing up your thighs now, fingers gripping into the plush flesh at the center, and his breath is hot, tickling you, you’re so shaky you can barely take it.

“Sure did, sexy as fuck.”

“Ah!” You scream out as Toji pulls your thong to the side and licks a stripe up your slit with the flat of his tongue, lapping at the wetness already pooled there.

“And you, little bitch that you are, got this wet from making me angry? Was that the goal, get Toji mean with ya?”

Shit.

Your pussy did this maybe!?

“Did n-not. Fuck you.”

“Nah think I’ll fuck you.” He stands then, turning you and picking you up, throwing you over his shoulder, smacking your bare ass so hard this time you cry out at the sting, as the fans whirl from his ceiling and cool air hits them. You gasp, up far too high.

“That hurts, you damn big brute! Caveman!”

“Ah, getting yourself even wetter? Slutty little brat.” Toji huffs, fingering you then as he holds you up over his shoulder, and you’re moaning, soaking his fingers, as he bites the fuck out of your hip, before tossing you on his bed, and you bounce at the impact, gasping.

“Toji, I am sorry. Daddy…” You crawl on your knees, just in your panties and bra now, and Toji is furious, veins in that thick neck bulging, his hands brutal when they push you down again, on your back, and he’s yanking your panties down your thighs, making you shiver with desire.

“No, you’re not just bad, you’re very fucking annoying and bad. You wanna drive me fuckin insane, then you get the consequenses, got it?”

“Daddy I said sorry.” You blink your lashes, and he hesitates, then shakes his head, putting your panties to his face and moaning, he’s so nasty but it makes you even wetter, and he clearly sees it pooling down.

“No, not getting out of this one, brat. I’m done with your attitude, it seems I gotta teach you manners. Your dad didn’t, let you run around and be such a little brat, all the time. Spoiled.”

“Toji…” You get this tiny amount of fear then, as Toji takes off his belt, and your cunt throbs around nothing as he flips you, and you feel something silky wrapping your wrists now. “Toji!”

“Hush this mouth before I gag you.” You whine pathetically now, as your tits are shoved out of the bra, bouncing out for his view as he circles you on the bed.

“I’m tired of your mouth. I only want you, annoying as fuck as you are. Got me, doll?” You nod, biting your lip as he bends down, tilting your chin up and kissing you, bruising in his kisses, and you melt into him, but then he’s smacking your cheek, making your face sting. “Answer me.”

“Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

“Not good enough, but it’s a start.” He pushes your head down into the mattress then, running his leather belt along the curve of your ass, and then he smacks the fuck out of you with that belt, so hard you scream. “One. How many do you think you deserve?”

“N-none, daddy.”

“Wrong answer doll. Let’s start with how many times you said ‘Fuck you Toji’ yeah?” He mocks your voice, and you’re whimpering, then he smacks you with the belt again, burning your skin, and then he slides a finger between your lips, pulling that wetness out, moaning softly. “And you like it, dirty lil slut f’me.”

“Ngh, Toji I’m really sorry.” You scream out as he smacks you again, fingering you rougher, two fingers, pressing up against your spot, past that tight ring of muscles, against your little gummy walls. Your pussy starts pouring out wetness now, slippery, loud in his room.

“So slutty. You’re not a good girl, are you?”

“I am.”

“Lying to me now. Hmm.” He hits you right across the backs of your thighs, hitting your sore little cunt, and it hurts so bad you’re crying into your pillow now, but your pussy is almost ready to cum, you’re so fucking ready. “Got something to say, brat?”

“F-fuck me, please.” He grips your hips now, pulling your ass up, cheeks apart, spitting down your little ass hole and dripping to your cunt.

“You deserve dick right now, you think so?”

“You want it, old man, stop- okay fuck!” Another smack, lower across your thighs, makes your knees buckle, and he’s pulling your ass back, holding you up, as you sob softly. “I’m sorry, s’sorry… T-Toji…”

“You remember that safe word?” He says softly, pulling your hair and bringing you to your knees, you nod quickly, as his breath tickles your ear.

“I remember it.”

“So you’re good, doll?” You hear it then, the concern, the care, making sure you’re okay even as he’s beating your ass.

“I’m not just good, I’m soaking wet, Daddy.” Your words earn his sexy moan, and he’s turning your face to him, gripping your breasts, squishing them in his hands and his thumbs pressing on your sensitive nipples. Your head falls back, ass arching for more and more of his rough touches.

Your pussy is so soaked when he wraps his arm around your hips, finding your clit, and you’re so wet his fingers slip. “Fuck, you’re stupid wet.”

“Fuck me, please.” You beg, as he’s pumping two fingers inside you, making the most lewd noise, and he pulls them out just before you cum, shoving them in your mouth so deep you almost choke.

“You’re not done yet, you’ve pissed me off so fuckin much. Ya think that was enough hits?”

“I do!”

“And now you beg for dick, pathetic f’me, so fucking slutty.”

“Ugh, fuck you- shit, shit sorry!” Toji’s big hand now smacks the fuck out of you, so hard you’re rocked forward, and you look back with tears in your eyes, and he’s furious now.

“So you’re still running the mouth, gotta fix that.” He shoves your head back down, and then he’s shoved three fingers in your little entrance, stretching you too full, and you’re wriggling every which way.

“T’much!” You whimper the words, muffled by the pillow, and Toji bends low now, tongue on the little unused hole, as he keeps working your cunt. The sensations are too much, there’s so much pressure building you think you’ll explode, your eyes rolling back, thighs shaking.

“Always running this mouth, huh? Do you think you’ll get to cum?” He yanks his fingers out then, and you scream out in pain, empty and pulsing, so close it hurts. “Aw, were ya close, brat?”

“S’sorry…”

“Nah, that’s not a good apology.” Toji slides two fingers in your cunt again, only to shove them up into your ass, and now the stretch nearly breaks you, as his other hand slides down, rubbing your clit, overstimulating and teasing. “Maybe I’ll break you the fuck in, huh?”

“Ngh…” You can’t say a damn thing, you’re drowning in pleasure, in need, as you’re about to cum again, and you’re sobbing hot sticky tears when he stops toying with you completely, when he’s spitting on you again, spreading his hot saliva all over your pussy and ass. “Please…”

“Please what, slutty fuckin brat? Use those words. Or already stupid from my fingers?”

The more he degrades you, the hornier and wetter you are, as his thumb pumps in your ass again. “Fuck me there.”

Toji pauses then, and for a moment it’s silent, then he’s getting undressed behind you, his tip rubbing against your slit, grinding on your clit, between your puffy lips, moaning as he feels how wet you are. Your arms are aching as you can barely breathe, so shoved against the blanket you are feeling so hot everywhere, almost weak.

“So slutty ya need me in all your holes, huh?” He whispers, now sliding his cock up, his thick, reddened tip dripping precum as it rubs your little hole, pressing in and making you hiss at it.

“Slutty for you, Daddy.” He moans then, one hand at the base of his cock, the other gripping your hip, pressing his thumb in the dimple of your back, pressing further, and then you feel him, the thickness inside, so intense you’re shaking violently. He’s gentle for all his talk, for how he usually fucks your pussy, just barely moving, and just that has you a mess.

“Fuck you feel so good, doll. Fuck… are you all right?” He asks, and you smile against the pillow, at how sweet he can be even when he’s literally fucking your ass, which is covered in red whelps.

“It feels good, alot though… can you untie me, please?” He quickly does as you ask, and you move your numb fingers, up on your hands and knees now, and he’s running one hand up your rib cage, wrapping your waist and bending over you, his lips against your ear. “Daddy… it’s s’good.”

“You like it, doll, huh? Want me deeper in that tight little ass?” His husky voice kills you, as he pulls back, and you nod eagerly. “Then what do we say?”

“Please, Daddy. Please- ah!” He shoves in deeper, his hand brutal as it grabs your entire body damn near, as the other braces itself on the bed over you. Your own hands cling to his thick cotton blankets, arching your ass up for more, every inch feels like ten, so good you can’t stand it, eyes rolling back, your toes curling against the bed as he fucks you slowly.

“Oh my fucking… fuck, fuck…” He’s cursing, not moving, moaning and breathing in your ear, making you shiver as your cunt throbs around nothing. “Can’t hold back, can you take it, baby doll?”

“I’ll try, Daddy.” He moans at that again, then he’s shoved in so deep it rips you in fucking half, and you’re screaming, as he’s huffing, his huge cock sliding in and out of your tight hole, his balls smacking your neglected entrance. “Ah, ah, ah!”

“Feel so fuckin good, Ma.” Toji bottoms out, before leaning you forward, on your stomach, bracing himself over you, one hand sliding down your spine, dripping with sweat now. He smacks your ass, bringing your hips up, and starts fucking into you, skin of his pelvis smacking your ass, making it jiggle with each thrust. “Rub that clit, pretty doll.”

“Y-yes Daddy.” You earn his satisfied sigh, as he pulls your hips up more, you’re on your knees, rubbing your clit in circles with your tiny fingers, and one of his hands finds your cunt, filling your pussy with two fingers. It’s so much, too much, your clit, pussy and ass so filled you can’t think anymore.

Your hands join each other, and you’re gushing out, as Toji’s thrusts slow, and he’s rolling his hips, hitting some spot that makes your tummy coil with tension. “You’re doing good, doll, s’good for your daddy, huh?”

“Please… can I cum? Please. I’ll be good.” He laughs softly, slamming his length in you hard, fingering you deeper, until your cunt and mouth are drooling, pools of arousal and saliva, and you’re blinded.

“Cum f’me, doll, let me feel this slutty ass around my cock.” Toji presses in so deep you can’t see, crooking those fingers, and yours slip off as you begin to cum, so hard and so much pressure, your little hole begins to squirt all over Toji’s hands, and you can’t even speak, can’t do anything as it sprays all over the bed. “Oh my god… fuck…”

“S-sorry!? Sorry! S-sorry….” You’re chanting as you keep cumming, and he groans, pausing his movements, to pull his hand back staring at the sticky mess with wonder.

“Sorry, fuck no. You’re such a good girl, squirting f’me.” You blink a bit, as you try to come to, and he’s pulled out of you, making you hiss, so damn sore, as he flips you on your back, rubbing your clit side to side.

“Too sensitive, too much… too wet…”

“Oh, doll, fuck no, Imma need you to do it again, gonna drink it.” He says, husky, dragging your hips and spreading your thighs, and you’re yanking at his silky black hair, and he’s lapping at your clit, three fingers back stretching your cunt, and you’re close again. He hums on your clit, and your hips buck up off the bed, and you’re gushing all over again.

“F-f-fuck, ah!” You’re screaming out as Toji drinks you up, you’re spraying so much wetness out, it’s all over his chin, his face, as he grins, long tongue lapping what he can as you make a wet spot in the bed.

“That’s it, that’s my lil slut.” He’s smacking loud kisses on your cunt, leaning up now, shoving your thighs up high, your knees on either side of you, pressing into the mattress, folding you in fucking half. “Imma put a baby in you now.”

“Toji…” He chuckles, smacking your cheek and shaking his head. “Daddy…”

“Mmm, you ready to take it? She sure made a fuckin mess, didn’t she?” He shoves in your cunt now, and it immediately tightens, so sensitive from how hard you had cum you can’t stand it, falling apart with every thick thrust of his veiny cock, as his swollen tip is rubbing right against your spot.

“Too much, too much! Too much!” You’re a mess, writhing and shattering under him, under his heavy weight, pressing down on your thighs with his brutal hands, as his cock bullies your cervix, and you can’t take anymore, damn near blacking out.

“You tryna pass out, brat? Tap out?” He huffs, as you try to keep your eyes open, as your mouth is slack and open, as you’re pushed over some edge. He fucks you so deep you feel him everywhere, as you see black glittery stars, and he’s cupping your face possessively. “Look at me, doll.”

You gaze at him with dilated, cock drunk eyes, narrowing, your lashes shaqdowing your view, as you struggle to breathe, brows drawing together, cheeks flushed, and he studies you with heated dark eyes, shoving in so deep then. He rolls his hips and the tip is just grinding against your cervix, pushing you again, and you’re so weak you can barely moan.

You cling to him, nails digging into his broad shoulders, scratching him hard as you cling to him to tether you, but he’s the one pushing you further and further, as he works you, as he’s heaving his own breaths. His chest contains that heart that thuds erratically now, his thumbs brushing your cheeks gently as his cock presses and stretches you till you’ll break.

“That’s it doll, lemme feel ya around me, can’t fuckin think can you? I fuck you stupid?” You would say ‘fuck you Toji’ but you can’t do anything, he has to swipe your drool off your face then, sticking his thumb between your lips, for you to weakly bite, and he bites out in laughter. “Fucked the brat out of ya.”

You wish you could say something smart, but he’s got you so weak, it’s too much, the pressure, the stretch, his sweat dripping down on you, you just weakly cry out, and now he’s leaned back slightly, putting his weight on your sore thighs. His balls smack the little hole he’d wrecked, as he fills your pussy, and his pelvis smaches against an overstimulated clit.

“Ready for this baby in ya, huh doll? Fill ya so good with me.” He cooes those words out, and all you can do is nod just a bit, gasping, head sinking into the bed as your hips buck up at how deep he gets. “Say it, say it doll.’

“W-want… your babies… Daddy…” You speak in a breathy whisper, hearing that gutteral groan as his rhythm stutters, as your walls convulse around him, and you’re gulping for air, as if he’s choking you, your sore ass fucked deeper and deeper into the mattress, making it throb and ache.

“Take all this cum, be my good girl, yeah?” You nod weakly, then he’s leaned over you, shoving in and his tip is quivering, pulsing, as hot spurts of cum fill you, and she eagerly drinks them in, like she wants it, wants it as bad as you won’t admit. Toji’s kissing you, hot and messy, moaning his pleasure into your lips, his scar brushing against the corner of your mouth.

You’re crying now, tears down your face, as he finishes pumping so much cum, and you’re clinging to him, as he’s tasting your salty tears. He keeps kissing you, long after he’s cum, as your fluids are dripping down the bed under you, and he leans up then, eyes different, they’re softer, his lips are rested, parting as he rubs your face so sweetly.

“I fuckin love, you, little doll.” He murmurs, and you sob more, kissing him and sinking your hands into his hair.

“L-love you. Love you Toji. Fuck. I’m a mess.” You say weakly, and he chuckles a bit, pulling off you, making you suck in a breath as he pulls out, leaving you empty.

“You’re a beautiful fucking mess, so, so messy too.” He fingers the sticky cum between your lips, making you jerk and cry out. “Didn’t know you could squirt, freaky lil slut aren’t ya?”

“I didn’t know either. Fuck it was too much though. I’m done.” You weakly fall back, and Toji sits you up carefully, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Lemme get you cleaned up, want a shower doll?” He asks softly, caressing your back, brushing up and down, and you exhale, shutting your eyes and sinking against him.

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll take care of ya.” He picks you up with ease, as you weakly let him carry you. “I love taking care of you after I ruin that little mind of yours.”

“Dick.” He snorts, and you can’t summon the energy to glare, you just let him bring you inside his shower, surprisingly gorgeous, with marble tiles, and a waterfall shower head. “This is s’nice.”

“Built it.”

“Built it?” You yawn, blinking bleary eyed as he washes your hair, his rough hands gently, massaging your scalp, as the hot water pours over you both, and the steam rises in the shower.

“Yeah, I built most of this place. Was bare bones.”

“Mmm, my manly man.” He snorts, and soon he’s rinsing your hair, sudsing your body up.

“You’re so pathetic f’me, little doll, can’t stand?”

“Fuck no.” He’s chuckling, holding you gently, and you think that the moment can’t get much better, being in his arms, feeling his heartbeat thud in his chest, so soothing you almost fall asleep then and there. Only to be wrapped in his big, strong arms all night in his bed.

*****

Fuck you feel sick, you sit up as you awaken, and Toji’s sheets are rumpled, your nipples are killing you, more than they have been, and you peer between your thighs, worried you’re on your period. You’re thankfully not, standing now, smelling breakfast Toji is cooking, which should be yummy, tantalizing, but another wave of nausea rolls through you.

You only had one glass of wine!?

You blink at the sun streaming through the windows of Toji’s cozy cabin, standing on wobbly legs, he’d fucked you so good you can barely walk even now, your ass is so goddamn sore from his belt, and his cock it’s ridiculous. You wonder how you’re going to manage to sit even.

You pad barefooted on old wooden floors, seeing Toji’s sexy, strong back now, and you can’t even appreciate it, because your tummy is rumbling and hurts. You bite back it, trying to suck in a breath, and Toji looks back, grinning deviously, dark green eyes drinking you in.

“Sit down and eat, doll. Let daddy cook for ya.”

You can’t even snort, you can’t do anything but cover your mouth, and he then looks concerned, brows lowering, and you run off to his bathroom, throwing up everything you’d digested last night. You’re sobbing as you do, and Toji is there, freaking out.

“Well shit, the fuck!? You okay!?” He’s pulling your hair, trying to be gentle but he’s such a damn brute it yanks your hair.

“Ow- fuck!” 

“Shit, my bad. Here.” He’s yanking one of your pony tails off the sink, putting your hair up in a bun then, rubbing his hand on your back as you flush the toilet. “Was it something you ate?”

“No, I don’t think?”

“The wine?”

“One glass, no. Shit am I sick? I…”

You trail off then, and do some math in your damn head, then you gasp, falling back on the tile floor. “Doll, want some water?”

“Fuck no. No, no, no. Shit!” You’re trembling, hugging your knocking knees then, eyes wide in horror as you look at Toji.

“What the fuck is it?”

“You… I… oh my god.”

“What!?”

“You asshole!” You haul off and smack him then, earning his glare, snatching your wrist and shoving you against the wall, pinning you there.

“Me, I didn’t do shit, don’t smack me little fuckin bitch. Explain yourself, what the fuck is…” He trails off then, and brushes your nipple, making you scream out. “Fuck… shit… you’re sensitive, I noticed, and they’re even…”

“Oh my god.”

“Shit. Are you…” He looks up at you carefully, as you struggle to fight another wave of nausea, then he presses on your flat tummy, as you come to the most scary fucking thing you’ve ever though of. “Are you pregnant!?”

Shit.

A/N enjoy the cliffie *evil laughing* ahahahah

Chapter 11