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glossgojo · 11 days ago

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father mayhew x fem! detective reader the long awaited part-2

picking up right where we left off with part 1 you know the drill

2.2k words

i’m a sucker for some plot with p0rn, oral!fem receiving, riding, creampie, no protection don’t be dumb wrap it up, not proofread and i fear it will be obvious, lowkey yandere /they’re both down bad

the rational part of your mind told you to hightail it out of the church after you’d both fallen back on his bed sweaty and blissful. your body wasn’t cooperating, the haze of desire had clouded the stark reality of your legs being sore and the space between them aching, still leaking onto his sheets. charlie was clearly going through some kind of turmoil himself as he covered his face with his hands, shoulder pressed against yours as you caught your breath. you cleared your throat, thinking maybe it would be better to walk very slowly out of his room and back home. as soon as you tried to sit up one of his hands found your waist, “no please don’t go.” they were still warm and rough, the bandaid on his finger reminding you of how all this started. you had gotten too caught up, losing the reason you came here in the first place. maybe now was the time to get him to talk. you turned towards him and batted your wide eyes, charlie couldn’t help but do the same, his hand traveling up and resting in the dip of your waist.

“i don’t want to intrude.” you whispered it knowing that there was no point in it, you were the only ones there and from how loud you were earlier anyone who was nearby would know what you two were up to.

“you’re not i just-“ he closed his eyes, the vision of you in his bed, duvet barely covering you or the marks he left was a test to his faith all over again.

“go on,” your voice although siren-like soothed his hesitation.

“it’s the catholic guilt.” he muttered, half confessing and half ashamed of it.

“i think god will understand, you can blame me if it helps.” you tried not to find the situation ironic, he was built like a sex god and touting the sin of premarital relations. if it helped him open up you’d be the degenerate for him.

“no i don’t think i could, you look like an angel.” he said it without flinching, your lips twitched at the corner. the situation was laughable and later you’d definitely tell lois about it over some wine.

“what does that make you? the devil?” you brushed a piece of his hair back, unruly from all your tugging and nearly unrecognizable from how it usually looked, gelled back and pristine.

“in a way, yes.” you couldn’t believe that a modern man was so archaic in his thinking.

“i disagree, there’s nothing more human than succumbing to desire, no one is perfect, you can’t expect yourself to be either.” he rolled the words around in his mind, it was a nice sentiment but he was a priest he was supposed to be devoted to god and the faith alone. not the way your eyelashes fluttered or how your ankles felt on his shoulders.

“do we not all strive for perfection?” the pout on your lips was still there, it had been since he started this conversation and he wanted to kiss it away, he shouldn’t.

“you’ll always end up disappointed.” he leaned up on his elbow, looking down at you, lifting up the duvet to cover you up more, not that it helped his current situation.

“so what do you do?” his voice sent a chill through your spine, deep and gruff, like he’d just woken up. you imagined his voice would be enough to just get you off. you blinked away the thoughts, formulating a response to the best of your ability while looking into his espresso eyes.

“whatever i want, of course i have my own morality and i try to be ‘good’ but i know i’m not perfect.” religion had never led your morality, surely in some way it shaped it without your knowing, but you did what you thought was right.

“whatever you want? what do you want?” he could think of a few things he wanted, perhaps even needed, but you were involved in all of them.

“geez what a loaded question, hmm right now a shower and a snack would be nice, in general i want to help people.” he laughed at your response finding you even more endearing than before, you were so straightforward it was jarring. you watched the corner of his eyes crinkle. “what about you?”

“i want you.” he said it without a bat of his eyes like it was the most obvious answer in the world. you weren’t so nonchalant, lips parted in a small gasp and he tried not to smile at your reaction, tried not to let it etch into his bones.

“you have me.” you said it with all the conviction you could muster, it didn’t really take much if you were being honest because in that moment it was true. your legs were covered in him and the ache between them could only be filled by him. he’d haunt you for days if not weeks. your hands found their way to cradle his jaw before you knew what you were doing, titling his head down towards you, kissing him slow and gentle, as if he was a ghost. charlie thought you tasted sweet and the way you kissed him made his heart ache faintly in his chest. he moved on top of you, kissing you with an urgency you didn’t quite feel. you let him kiss you with desperation. his hands roamed down to your legs, parting them and bringing them to the side of his hips. you didn’t know if you could handle another round even if you clenched on air when his slightly hard cock rested between your chests. charlie had other ideas anyways, kissing down your neck, somehow knowing exactly where to nip at to get you to arch into him, kissing gently over the bite marks and bruises he’d left on your chest until he was under the covers, kissing at your stomach. and when he pressed another soft kiss to your clit you swore your heartbeat had moved south.

you throbbed against him, bucking into him gently as a soft whine of his name left your lips. when he licked down your slit, cleaning up his slick mixed with yours you sucked in a breath of air. it was so messy and he didn’t seem to care at all.

“this pussy is fucking divine.” he murmured under the cover of the duvet, licking your thighs clean next, nose bumping against your opening in the process making you clench on it. he didn’t mention that you smelled sweet too, he wished he could eat you for every meal of the day.

“s-such a dirty mouth.” despite your words your legs were parting more for him, he smirked against the soft skin of your thighs, holding your thigh open with a strong hand.

“might as well use it then huh?” before you could even think of an intelligible response he was delving his tongue into you with one of his fingers, pulling out everything he could as you gave, and gave, and gave. his fingers were already long and thick you knew that but the thick wet muscle of his tongue hammering into you, curling and slurping in a craze made you gush into his mouth. you imagined he was tasting himself there mixed with your cum and you felt a tinge of jealousy. his finger managed to find the spot that had you squirting earlier, his tongue quickly following and you pushed your hand up against the headboard, running from the sensation. charlie wouldn’t have any of that, tugging you by your legs right back where he needed you, in fact closer than before. his nose bumping against your clit as he fucked you on his tongue, as if you were a toy for his pleasure. the thought made you clench even harder on his tongue eliciting a groan from him, the vibrations against your core making you gasp. he was ruthless on your poor stretched cunt and just when you felt close he was pulling his finger and tongue out, playing with your puffy folds and blowing cool air on your throbbing clit.

“charlie-“ you gasped out, feeling your eyes starting to water at the desperation you felt to come.

“father.” he corrected you, clearly it wasn’t about respect, not like megan meant. you swallowed down the spit accumulating in your mouth and with it your hesitance.

“father mayhew please do something.” your voice sounded foreign, so desperate and whiny you almost cringed at it.

“so cute,” he murmured against your clit, kissing it once before licking at it, the rough pad of his tongue igniting every nerve in your body. two of his fingers pressed at your now drooling hole and you sighed in relief. he sucked at your clit as his fingers stretched you open, you were soaking his hand thoroughly practically dropping down the length of it. charlie knew he would smell you for days and when he didn’t he’d start missing it. your eyes wrung shut as you felt your orgasm approaching, the obscene sound of your gushing and his hand smacking against your wet skin filled the air as you started to see white behind your eyelids. you came so hard you were bucking up into him, shaking and squirming in his hold and he fucked you through it, cleaning up the mess you made of yourself and then his fingers. with one last kiss to your clit he lifted himself back up the length of you, kissing your lips and swirling your tongue with his, tasting the sin.

you felt like you were on a cloud, floating in pure bliss and charlie watched the way your eyelids fluttered shut when he pulled back. he’d let you sleep, in the meantime he needed to atone. you could feel him heavy and hot between your legs, clearly hard but not making any move to address it, the thought spurred on your need for more. you were surely addicted to him. his heady musk was starting to affect, you were being drugged by him and his body. you pushed at his shoulders he looked concerned as he broke off the kiss, you pushed a little more and he seemed to get the hint, falling onto his back and bringing you with him.

you straddled him, your clit bumping his hard cock, making you wince at the overstimulation. charlie pulled you along with him as he settled with his back against the headboard, his bare chest fully on display and you trailed a hand down his abs, resting on the small tuft of hair below his belly button. you didn’t know if you could take him again, but surely at your own pace it wouldn’t be too bad. at least that’s what you thought. when you were lifting up on your knees and lining him up, you still felt the stretch from just his tip.

“fuck.” charlie was on the brink of coming just from the sight of you struggling to take him. you had been so insistent on this and then in one second all your bravado went out the door. god he could just eat you up.

“need help baby?” you nodded your head weakly and he guided your hips down and you gripped at his shoulders. once you were down halfway you started to bounce up and down, trying to adjust to the pain. he felt so much deeper like this and you swore it didn’t hurt this much before. fortunately you were still dripping down his length, which helped with the friction and you could feel his precum dripping inside you. you set your own pace, grinding and moving up and down slowly. he wasn’t even fully in but the tight hug of your pussy was enough to make his eyes roll back, there was barely any room for him inside you and every twitch of his dick felt like a shock to your system. you got a bit braver, taking more of him as you leaned against him, his head was leaned back and you didn’t like how far he was, tugging him by his hair towards your lips. and that seemed to be the limit of charlie’s patience, the sharp feeling like some kind of trigger. he was kissing you back fiercely, biting at your lip as he snapped his hips up, filling you up and making you gasp into his mouth. your hole spasmed around him and he kissed you with a bloody devotion, snapping his hips as your own hips bounced down on him, a new mind breaking rhythm that ensured your legs would go weak. you were dripping down both of your thighs now, the force of his thrusts making your ass clap against his lap and you swore you were getting air from the force of his thrusts. it made the way he filled you up even more devastating, abusing your cervix and carving you out with every beat.

when it all became too much for him, he wove a hand between you both, pressing against your clit and made you come on his cock, milking him dry as he came with a few more thrusts up into you. even after he emptied inside you earlier he was still filling you up and leaking down onto his sheets, clearly pent up.

your body fell limp against him, he ran a hand down your smooth back, soothing you while he grew soft inside you. you didn’t think you could move and he didn’t really mind if you never did. you looked so beautiful on his lap almost as if you were made to be there.

#glossgojo #father charlie smut #charlie mayhew x reader #father charlie mayhew x reader #father charlie x reader #father charlie mayhew #grotesquerie #nicholas alexander chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez smut

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gojomamashouse · 1 year ago

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Taking Care of You

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x babysitter!reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (M receiving), breeding kink, praise kink, Fem!reader. Very minor mentions of injury & blood.

Description: He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home.

A/N: crossposted on my Ao3 and Tumblr.

3.7k words

18+ content! Minors and ageless blogs dni!

You remember the first time you came over to babysit for Mike all too clearly. You remember the way your eyes went wide when the door opened, and how your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. More importantly, you remember thinking that Mike Schmidt was far too hot for his own good, a clear image in your mind of how he had greeted you with tired eyes, messy hair, and a hand gripping the doorframe.

"Mr. Schmidt," you had blurted, ignorant to how his nose scrunched at the words leaving your mouth, "It's nice to—"

"Don't tell me I look that old?" His tired expression tried a smile, and you found yourself standing there, unable to formulate a proper response as you were already convinced you messed up the job before you even started. "Just Mike is fine.”

Back then, the only thing you knew about him was that he was hot, overworked, and clearly exhausted. So you did your best to make his life easier, even if those things were small, like cleaning all the dishes before he came home, tidying up all the clutter left behind on the table and kitchen counter. It wasn’t much, but you figured he could use whatever help he could get. He came home the first night, too tired to even notice before collapsing on the couch. Suppressing a giggle, you threw a blanket over his sleeping form, lingering a moment longer than you should have just to observe his face. Even in his sleep, you weren’t sure you could find even an ounce of peace in his expression.

—

Mike remembers the first week of your babysitting, when he returned home at some ungodly hour that Friday. While most babysitters in the past opted to lay on the couch, sleeping or watching TV, he had discovered that you preferred to be a bit more proactive. That night, in particular, he recalled your humming in the kitchen, rinsing the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher.

A strange feeling filled his chest at the sight, the smell of dinner still lingering and the radio playing some old song from his childhood. It was a feeling he shouldn't have been feeling towards the babysitter looking after his little sister. You had jumped when the floorboard creaked beneath himself shifting weight, still shy and jittery around him at the time.

“I didn’t see you come in,” your voice is still shaken from the scare. You turned to the oven, “Oh! I kept the food warm, in case you wanted some. Are you hungry?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” he said, blinking a bit to shake the thoughts from his head, “Ah, you don’t have to do all this, you know. The cooking and cleaning stuff.”

“I don’t mind. It’s not like I have anything else to do,” you returned your gaze to the dishes in the sink, “Besides, you work hard. It’s the least I can do. Just let me take care of it.”

Just let me take care of it.

A phrase he hadn’t yet forgotten, either. When was the last time anyone had taken care of anything for him? He’d taken on the role of being Abby’s caretaker the moment his parents were out of the picture. He had made countless sacrifices, dropping out of school to work full-time, losing his social life. His old friends preferring to go out partying rather than hang out with the guy who has a kid sister and a full-time job. Every day was work, only to mess up at work. Then go home, stress over a dirty home. Drive Abby to school, stress over her education and development.

He didn’t have it within himself to deny you, not when you were so kind and helpful. Even if the guilt ate away at him, reminding him how he couldn’t even afford to pay you close to what you deserved.

His eyes wandered to an image on the counter. There was himself, a familiar stickman with brown hair. There was Abby, of course, given the height difference. And then there was another figure, the hair undeniably similar to yours. All three figures were holding hands together inside a square home.

“What’s this?” He picked it up.

“Abby told me it’s us,” you had laughed, placing a dish in the dishwasher. “Cute, right?”

There was a thumping in his chest as he looked at you, before looking back down at the paper. All he could manage was a smile as he pinned it to the fridge.

You soon felt his presence at your side, his hand picking up another dish while you rinsed yours.

“Let me help with that,” he said.

—

You’ve fallen into a routine. Every day, when he returns home, he is met with the same thing. You, in the kitchen, humming. You, greeting him with a smile. You, sitting down to eat with him. You, always asking him about his day even though you know by now that he has nothing interesting to say. He prefers to hear you talk instead, to listen to you ramble about your shitty college professors and annoying roommates. He likes it like this. To be able to pretend that he’s not some deadbeat who can’t hold down a job to save his life or some traumatized freak haunted by the memories of his dead brother and parents. With you, he gets to pretend like he’s normal.

But, of course, just because he can pretend things are normal, doesn’t mean they are. Reality soon hits him when he’s sitting in his boss’s office, asking Mike for his badge and ID. It hits him when he’s driving home, remembering how he beat an innocent man, his knuckles still bloody as he grips the steering wheel tight. He walks through the front door, hearing you greet him from the kitchen, a sound that would have been music to his ears any other day.

“Mike?”

He doesn’t have the energy to reply. No, all he can do is walk over to the chair in the living room, sinking into it with a sigh. He loosens his tie and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the sound of dishes clattering in the sink followed by your footsteps against the hardwood floor.

“Hey, you okay?” Your voice is soft and gentle. His eyes shoot open when he feels your even softer touch against his forehead, laying the back of your palm flat. “You’re not sick, are you?”

In all the time you’ve been babysitting, neither of you had done so much as touch each other at all. The few times he could remember was how your fingers brushed when you reached for the same dish in the sink or the innocent hand you placed on his shoulder that one time you laughed so hard you couldn’t hold yourself up. He had always made sure to keep his hands firmly placed in his pockets or at his side. Now, you were touching his face, and he thinks that’s the first time anyone has touched him like that in years.

“Don’t worry about me.” He pleads, his body betraying his words when he leans into your touch, your hand drifting to caress his cheek, “You don’t have to.”

You ignore him, and your eyes scan over his form, before landing on his bloodied knuckles. A gasp escapes you, followed by the scolding of his name. He hears you stumble towards the bathroom, rummaging through whatever you can find and returning with a washcloth and disinfectant. You kneel beside him, cleaning the dried blood from his wounds and he winced from the sting of the alcohol.

“I know I don’t have to,” you finally break the silence. “I worry because I care.”

“Why?”

You avert your gaze.

“I just do.”

“That’s not a good enough answer.” He presses. There’s another pause.

“Because this feels like home.”

The answer is enough to render both of you silent, you out of humiliation, and him out of shock because he hadn’t realized you thought the same way.

You finish wiping the last bit of dried blood from his knuckles and there’s a lingering feeling left on his skin, where your fingers held his hands. Soft. Familiar. You’re still kneeling in front of him, but you’re wearing an expression he hadn’t seen since the first week he met you. It’s that look of shyness, the way you used to squirm under his gaze or shrink your presence out of fear of overstepping a boundary.

“Mike?”

“Yeah?

“Let me take care of you. Please?”

He knows it’s wrong. He knows that “messing around with the babysitter” has never been a good idea in the history of ever, but when he sees you gazing up at him like that, sitting on your knees between his legs, your eyes wide like that. Well, what the fuck else is he supposed to do?

The chair isn’t too high from the floor, so he easily finds himself at somewhat your level when he leans forward, his hand lifting your chin to look him in the eye. He pauses, analyzing your face just for a moment. Your lips are parted, so prettily, and your eyes are filled with a look of lust and desperation.

“Please,” you repeat, this time in a whisper.

Any semblance of self-restraint he had before was all lost the moment his lips met yours. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until he got a taste, a groan escaping his throat when he feels your tongue in his mouth. And you, you are so pliant. So eager to please. Still timid, hands hesitant as they rested on his knees, but so willing to let him handle you however he pleases, moaning when he tugs on your hair, whimpering when his hands grope your chest through your shirt.

“Quiet,” he mutters between kisses. You feel him pull away, the ghost of his lips at your ear, “we gotta be quiet, yeah?”

You nod, and he kisses your forehead, a tender change from his rough kisses shared only moments prior. He looks down at you, a flustered mess, but knows he must look the same. He couldn’t even remember the last time he let himself indulge like this. He feels your hand slither up his thigh, fumbling with his belt, groaning when you feel him through his jeans.

“You’ve had a long day, haven’t you?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes as your hand dips into his boxers.

“You have no idea,” he says, his hand caressing the side of your face, making circles with his thumb against your cheek. He can feel your skin heat up under his touch. Your hand wraps around his hardening cock, and he has to stop himself from bucking into you. You’re just so gentle and sweet and he knows you’d let him take his frustration out but he just cannot allow himself to do that just yet— not without a little guilt.

“Then talk to me.”

“Got, ah, fired,” he chokes out, feeling your thumb swipe over his tip, gathering his pre-cum and helping you stroke up and down with more ease. “Was my fault, too.”

“You started a fight, didn’t you?”

“Something like that.”

He looks down at you, his cock now fully hard in your hand. He can’t hold but admire the sight, how you hungrily stare at him, or how you press your thighs together to relieve yourself of your own desires. He feels his breathing become heavier with each passing stroke of your hand on his dick, and he forces himself to look away, his hand that had previously been caressing the side of your head now digging his fingers into the back of your scalp.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” he leans his head back, in an attempt to stop himself from busting in your hand before you’ve even done anything. He swears he’s not usually this sensitive, but the fact that it’s been so long, and the fact that it’s you, had him feeling like he was a teenager getting his first handjob all over again. He tries not to think about it. “I’m already behind on bills. I don’t think I can even pay you. Probably won’t even get another fucking job after what I did.”

“You don’t need to pay me.”

“You’ve got to stop saying shit like that,” he shakes his head, almost in disbelief. He looks down at you again, and you’re pressing your lips to kiss the underside of his dick, then kissing his tip. He shudders. “You’re too good for this. For me.”

He’s about to continue, but your lips wrap around him and he can’t think of anything. Curse words slip from his lips, feeling your tongue work around him, your hot mouth taking him. He still has his hand on the back of your head, tempting him to force your head down, but he’s more curious about whether you’d try to take him all yourself— which you do. He feels your throat contract around him as you try to push yourself down his cock, determined to take it all. Sometimes, you really were that predictable. Sure, you were a timid little thing, but you were equally if not more stubborn. He grips the back of your head to pull you off, a cough rising to your throat as you catch your breath and he smiles lazily.

Your quick to take him back in your mouth, and he cherishes the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and your hands that reached for the base of him to stroke whatever you couldn’t take. He gives an experimental thrust and he’s in bliss when he hears you moan around him. And as much as he wishes he could do this forever, watching you take him in your mouth, he knows his own limits and he knows he won’t last any longer. Besides, he’s neglected your needs for far too long.

He pulls you off of his cock finally, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, your lips puffy from their earlier actions. Then, he’s lifting you to the couch, hovering over your form as your back hits the cushions. Mike is thankful that you chose to wear a skirt tonight because with your legs spread like this, he gets a full view of your white cotton underwear, as well as the wet patch your arousal has created. He brings his hand down between your legs, feeling you through the fabric. He can hear your breath hitch and he watches you bite down on your lower lip to suppress your noises. And as much as he wants to tell you not to, he is reminded by the fact that you are both doing this in the living room, and the last thing he wants to do is traumatize his little sister, who is sleeping a few doors down the hallway.

“Didn’t know you wanted me this bad,” he whispers, finally slipping his hand past the fabric barrier to gather your slick at his fingers and rub your clit with his thumb, his other fingers prodding at your hole but not yet entering.

“Wanted you for so long,” you admit, sucking in a breath when you feel his thumb circle around your clit again. “You’re really fucking hot.”

“Yeah?”

Two of his fingers finally sink into you and you’re gripping the fabric of his uniform at his shoulders. Rough, long and so much bigger than your own— you have to grit your teeth even harder to stop any sinful noises from escaping you.

“Always thought you were real pretty, too.” He continues, “You’re prettier right now, though.”

He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, the wet sounds making you burn up in embarrassment. He’s obsessed with the way your eyes roll back, how your pretty lashes flutter open and closed, and how your hips buck to meet his rhythm.

“More, please,” you finally let out, your eyes going down to his cock, which was still very much hard. “Need you inside.”

You whimper at the emptiness you feel when his fingers leave, but quickly forget about it the moment your panties are removed and you feel his cock rub against your cunt, the tip resting at your entrance. You expect to feel him push in, only to see that he has paused.

“I don’t have any condoms,” he says, a pained look on his face. He had no reason to keep any around any more, not since providing for Abby had become his number one priority. He mentally kicked himself for it now.

“Mike,” you whine, trying to roll your hips up, but his hands remained firm against you, keeping you down. “I don’t care. Just pull out or something.”

You feel like a pathetic idiot for saying it, and he feels even more of one for considering it at all. All he can manage is a sigh. He’d already crossed so many lines tonight that he shouldn’t have. What difference would crossing one more be?

He hesitates before pushing in, but once he feels your tight walls around the head of his dick he can’t find it within himself to have any regrets. You’re so tight and warm and wet and he loves the way you stretch around him, gasping with every inch he gives you. He pauses when he’s buried at the hilt, mentally trying to cool himself down because the fact that he’s fucking you raw and you’re taking him so well is driving him mad.

“So good,” he coos, his hand on your face, thumb on your lower lip, “so fucking good.”

He pulls away until he’s nearly out again before thrusting into you fully, and he has to slam his hand over your mouth to stop the moan that would have escaped you. He continues to fuck you like this, slowly, and deeply, before it’s not enough, and he finds himself taking you faster, harder, wanting to see how much you were willing to take.

You feel every inch of him inside you, and you can’t help but clench around him every time the tip of his cock hits the spot inside you that you can’t reach with your own fingers. You feel so full and it’s everything and more that you’ve needed for so long.

He pushes up your shirt, revealing your cleavage. Your breasts are still covered by your bra, but he pinches your nipples through the lacy fabric anyway, content when he hears you make a sound, muffled by his other hand which remains on your mouth.

He can tell you’re close from the telltale sign of your pussy clenching harder, and how you start to freeze up, too fucked out to do anything else. He, too, starts to feel himself approaching his limit but knows he has to hold out long enough to let you reach your high first. He finally removes his hand from your mouth and uses it to rub your clit.

“Such a good girl,” he breathes.

“I’ll always be good for you,” you keep your voice a whisper, “Always waiting for you when you come home.”

Your words ignite a desire within him he never realizes he had. He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home. Now, as he’s fucking you, the only thing he can think about is how deeply he wants to cum inside you, over and over again until he gives you another kid to take care of. He doesn’t care if he can’t afford it. He’ll pick up as many jobs as he can get just to take care of you.

He feels your back arch and your walls clench around him, immediately going to kiss you to swallow your cries. He ruts into you, over and over again and though there’s a sinful voice in the back of his head telling him to fill you up until he’s dripping out of you, he knows he should stay true to his promise to pull out. That is, until you tell him otherwise.

“You can do it inside,” you choke out, still fucked out from your orgasm, “I don’t mind—“

Before you can finish your sentence his hips come to a stop and he’s finishing inside you, as deep as he possibly can, as if to not waste a single drop. When he finally pulls out, he can’t help but watch in awe as his seed drips from your cunt down to your ass, ruining the couch cushions beneath you both. He tries not the think about the consequences that will bring. Instead, he’s pulling you close, catching his breath while laying his head against your stomach. Moments later, he feels your hand running your fingers through his hair and he sighs, leaning into your warmth.

“I don’t want you to be Abby’s babysitter anymore,” he starts, his voice hoarse and worn out. He can feel you tense up when he says it, before immediately continuing, “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

He hears you laugh.

“Does that mean I won’t get paid anymore?”

“I’ll repay you in other ways,” he flashes you a suggestive smile, earning him a snort and a flick on his forehead. Still, the guilt gnaws at him from within. “Seriously, though. I will. I’ll take care of you, too.”

He doesn’t care what job he picks up next. He’ll take any job in the world, so long as it means he can provide for you and Abby.

—

You wake up the next morning, the scent of pinewood and campfire surrounding you. You don’t remember exactly how, but you remember, after being fucked mercilessly, being carried to his room, cleaned up, and falling asleep in Mike’s bed. Now, you find the place next to you empty but can observe Mike standing at the door, speaking in a hushed voice while holding back the door.

You stand on shaky legs, still wobbly from your earlier affairs, approaching the argument.

“Abby, go away!”

“No! Let me—“

“What’s all this?” You interject.

Mike loses his grip on the door and Abby opens it wide. Her arms are crossed, adorning a frown while Mike is bringing his hands to his face.

“Abby, I can explain—“

“Why didn’t you tell me you guys were having a sleepover?” She fumes, “We could have built a pillow fort!”

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #fnaf movie #mike schmidt x you

1K notes · View notes

xzaddyzanakinx · 9 months ago

Text

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Four: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship, sexual content, pervy behavior, male masturbation, panty kink, sex daydreams [eventual warning for smut; be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is doing his very best, he just loves you and wants you to be comfy around him. Just let him worm his way into your heart babe [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. I’m illiterate so apologies in advance MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: July 8th

Mr. Nelson’s funeral was today, it really was a beautiful ceremony as I look back on it. Even more so when my inner self smears the background enough to bring you to the front of the mental image.

You’d spoken to the man a handful of times, but I didn’t expect you to come. When I saw you accept the invite to the event on Facebook I thought surely it was a mistake. That was until you messaged Luke and asked him to accompany you, funerals make you nervous, but feeling obligated to do something and avoiding it makes you more nervous.

So your moral support was happy to attend and fight off dear old Alan’s corpse should he rise from the casket and set his sights on you.

And I though I had irrational fears, geez babydoll, how old were you when you watched Night of The Living Dead for the first time? If I had to guess it was too young. It’s alright though I get it, you know what movie traumatized me? The Mummy. Heebied my fucking Jeebies so bad I avoided the beach on family vacations.

You’re telling me there’s not a sarcophagus under all that sand? There’s at least one under there and you can’t convince me otherwise.

Solid ground for me only, please and thank you.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I had a thought that I initially considered to be a sweet reminder of my dear friend Alan. His obituary was in the newspaper and I happened to swipe one from the guest book table at the viewing as well. Have you ever scrapbooked before? I bet you’ve at least tried it.

Well I thought it would be nice to make him a page in my journal. A little celebration of life for the man who gave me an opportunity to grow and nurture my love for you.

Then I realized mid-glue stick on the newspaper clipping that the idea was something that a clinically insane person would do.

I’m not that guy. That guy’s not me.

But the glue was already on there and it felt wrong to toss Alan’s wrinkly old face into the trash so I pasted him into my journal anyway.

Crazy people don’t know that they’re crazy. I’m well aware that little idea was less than tasteful, just felt like I should mention that.

Date:

July 28th

Anakin Skywalker hadn’t been this happy since… ever. The previous record being his discovery of you, was now toppled into second place and overshadowed by ‘Move In Day’.

He could hardly contain himself. It was a dopamine high that he would ride out until he’d drained every last drop.

The movers lugged in box after box, furniture and books, until finally they dropped off the last load and thanked Anakin for the business. He eagerly shook their hand and shoved them out. He had preparations to make.

He set up his Tv, screen mirroring the live feed of the apartment building entrance to the big screen so that he could easily keep an eye out for you while he unpacked his kitchen.

He’d planned your ‘meet-cute’ meticulously, looking to your bookshelf and streaming services to gather intel on your ideal scenario. You were an odd bird, but he liked that about you. It’s part of your charm, it’s part of the challenge. You’re not as predictable in your tastes and interests as others can be.

Anakin formulated the interaction step by step, frame by frame in the storyboard of his imagination until he had the perfect scene. His box office hit that he’d replay over and over again until the next time he stood face to face with you.

It took quite some time and a load of practice. Discarded dialogue, awkward movements that made him feel stiff and less than human when he practiced them in the mirror. Endless options of clothes, shoes, and hair.

Should he get a new piercing? He wanted to. So he did, he knew you’d like it.

It’d match the one he already had on the opposite nostril. It made him feel more complete to add something so permanent to his body, he wished he could do something similar with you. He wanted you to be permanent, so maybe it’s his subconscious’s way of telling him that this was going in the right direction.

He was on the right path. His journey of life alone was coming to a close and a new trail would reveal itself. No more rocky, unsteady tread. No more sharp turns and blind spots, no more impossible inclines.

Scraped knees and bloodied hands would be distant memories. Maybe even distant enough that he could toss them into The Pit.

He would have no need for anger or sorrow anymore.

How could he feel anything but the warm embrace of love as he strolled down the flowered path ahead with you?

Who knew that you could position one box in 83 different ways and hate every single one of them? Anakin was so thankful there weren’t any actual surveillance cameras in the apartment building. It’d be really difficult to explain why he was in the hallway for an hour with his hands on his hips, scooting a box of books a centimeter or two at a time. Turning it sideways and then making sure the book on top was perfectly positioned and would effectively fall to the ground to catch your attention.

He checked his watch nonstop, stared at his Tv screen, willing you to just hurry the fuck up before he vomited from anxiety. He’d waited months for this. If he fucked it up now he’d… well he’d probably keel over on the spot.

Which would promptly traumatize you and not even his ghost would be able to peacefully haunt you. It’s hard to peacefully haunt someone if they watched you die, or at least Anakin assumed it would be difficult. He wasn’t willing to test that theory though.

So, he puffed up his chest and walked back into his apartment and rehearsed the upcoming conversation a few more times. He needed, desperately needed to ensure his facial expressions conveyed what he wanted.

Soft, trustworthy, dependable, safe, caring.

He practiced softening his eyes, knowing sometimes he stared alittle too hard. He worked on his facial fidget; chewing on the inside of his cheek was a quick tell of his nervousness. He didn’t want to be perceived as nervous, he wanted to be confident and sure of himself so that you would be confident in your soon to blossom affection for him.

His eyebrows, that’s a hard one, but he’d meticulously watched bar goers trying to flirt. The successful ones he learned, sometimes use their eyebrows in place of questions or words. A difficult concept, but one he studied until he mastered it.

Now, the other facial expressions and mannerisms… he gathered that information from your watch lists on your streaming services. For the visible examples at least, but your books were just as helpful in describing how he should approach you, speak to you, and simply exist near you.

He hadn’t realized these things were this important until now. Standing and posture was surprisingly very, very important to women. As well as hand movements and subtle glances and minuscule changes of expression.

You were worth the time and effort it took to learn all of it. He’d read and research and practice until he couldn’t stand to look at himself in the mirror any longer. He was determined to make sure you were happy with the results.

He was startled by a loud ping, someone had entered to building and holy shit it was you.

Anakin shook out his hands frantically, remembering the breathing techniques he’d learned as a child, he grounded himself quickly.

It’s okay.

‘She’s gonna love you. She’ll warm up to you quickly, you know everything you need to know about her to make her comfortable and loved.’

‘There’s no way she won’t fall head over heels.’

He smoothed out his band-tee and ran his hands through his hair quickly and headed to his door that was propped open slightly. A few boxes sat in the hall, including the most important one, the one instrumental to his plan.

The apartment hallway was ridiculously tiny, which worked in his favor in this situation.

He heard you come up the stairs, counted your steps until he knew you were almost at the door, 17 and a half steps. Then he swung open the door and bent down to grab one of the boxes.

As expected, he startled you and you dropped your keys. You always wore your backpack on one shoulder, one strap. So when you quickly went to scoop up your keys, your bag swung out of place and toppled a few books from one of the boxes.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Anakin could gloat to himself about his magnificent setup later, right now he needed to woo you with his sweet words.

“Oh, sweetheart I’m sorry.” He said softly, coming over to offer you a hand up.

“It’s okay, my bad.” You laughed, taking his hand.

He managed to keep calm and collected despite his insides boiling him alive at the willing skin contact.

“No, not at all. It’s my fault for startling you like that.” He chuckled, squeezing your upper arm and using his hand already in yours to give you a small handshake. Smooth.

“I’m Anakin.” He said with a bashful smile, dropping your hand and reveling in the lingering warmth your palm left on his.

You introduced yourself in return, gesturing to his apartment door.

“So I take it that you’re my new neighbor huh?” You said, making small talk as you crouched down to pick up the books you’d knocked over.

“No I’m just a one man moving crew.” He grinned.

“Very funny.” You laughed, standing up as you looked through the titles. “Hmm, you’ve got good taste.”

“You think so?” He asked, remembering to make his eyebrows swoop up toward the middle of his forehead to give a quizzical look.

“Oh yeah, this is one of my favorites.” You said, showing him the cover of The Silmarillion by Tolkien.

“Not many people actually read that one, I’m impressed.” He smiled.

“Impressed? Yeah well I’m jealous.” You laughed.

“What?” He chuckled, holding his hands out to take the other books from you.

“This is a really nice edition, it’s similar to mine. I recently lost it.” You sighed. “I think I must’ve left it the park or maybe it fell out of my bag or something.”

“Ah, that sucks… well, I mean I’ve read that one a few times now. It’s been well loved.” He said tipping the books in his arms toward the one you were holding. “Why don’t you keep it?”

He shrugged, acting nonchalant as though this didn’t mean the entire world to him and if you said no he’d sob about it later.

“You’re serious?” You asked in surprise, he was offering you a 50$ special edition book and you’d barely known him for a minute.

“Yeah, ‘course sweetheart.” He said with a cute, crooked smile. “Think of it as a… reverse house warming gift.” He chuckled.

“Thank you, I- this means a lot to me.” You said, grinning widely. “That’s real sweet of you Anakin. I owe you one.”

“No worries.” He chuckled, “I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it even sweetheart.” His gaze flickered quickly from your eyes to your lips, and he turned to go back into his apartment after giving you an almost-missed wink.

You stepped inside your home, and went straight to the bookshelf to put your new-to-you book where it belonged. After the fact you stood there and buffered, just staring at it.

‘There’s no way, this guy has to be too good to be true.’

But he seemed… so genuine. He didn’t ogle you, he didn’t make you feel weird or like he just felt obligated to speak to you.

He seemed to actually, really be a good guy.

Rare. Few and far of those exist in this day and age. It’s uncommon to meet someone who would do something, even as simple as giving you a used book, without expecting anything in return.

But he didn’t seem to expect anything. He didn’t seem to even expect a thank you, it was like he’d already decided he would give it to you before he even offered.

What are the odds that a hot, tattooed and pierced man moves in next door and gifts you an expensive book that just so happens to be an even better replacement for the one that you just lost? That couldn’t happen twice even if you tried to make it happen again.

What kind of second dimension did you step into? The land of dreamy men?

Diary Entry: July 28th

It’s late. But I have to write to you, it can’t wait til tomorrow.

Everything went more perfectly than I could’ve imagined. Thank you so much for being you sweet girl. It made my job of curating the scenery so much easier, you clumsy little thing. I am sorry for having to spook you though, but it worked didn’t it?

Research pays off. Always.

And of course there’s the issue of your book, I hated to see your frustration and your mad scowl when you realized it was missing from your backpack. I really did.

But I’d do it every goddamn day if I knew I’d get the same reaction out of you from giving you that new copy.

Oh god you’re… you’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful. You look angelic when you sleep but you look like competition for Aphrodite when you smile at me.

You smiled, grinned. You smiled all the way up to the corners of your bright and beautiful eyes. For me.

You even laughed for me.

It was so sweet I could taste it. The honey of your voice, I could fucking bathe in it. Just the sound of you speaking, knowing you were speaking to me. Really speaking to me.

In the flesh.

It’s intoxicating. It’s emboldening, it’s dangerous. I’ve never been more worked up in my life. I’m torn all to pieces from at two minute and 6 second conversation.

I think I’ll have to fucking recover from this like a damn hangover.

But what has me so drunk you might ask? Was it your laugh at my stupid jokes? Was it your perfect smile, your radiant glow, your soulful eyes? The softness of your skin or you willingness to let me touch you?

No baby. It’s how you said my name.

I wish I could’ve stayed longer, I wish I could’ve spoken to you more. But it’s so hard to concentrate when my dick is leaking precum down my leg at a rate that should probably be concerning.

The minute you closed that door I shoved those boxes into my apartment and locked the door. Took my elated ass straight to the couch and watched you in your living room, admiring your gift from me while I fucked my fist with a pair of your dirty panties in my mouth.

I couldn’t have your honeyed lips soothing my angry red cock just yet, but I sure as hell could imagine licking your gorgeous little cunt while I tasted you.

I tugged my balls and pumped my cock for over half an hour until I was a fucking mess for you in my new living room’s floor. The cool hardwood letting the heat from my flushed skin seep away from me as I came back down to earth.

I made myself dizzy. Didn’t give myself a break, didn’t slow down, just stroked my cock like the desperate little manwhore that I am for you. The only thing missing was you being there to watch me fall apart.

I think you’d like that wouldn’t you? Watching a man like me get on his knees and beg for you?

Diary Entry: July 29th

I’ve replayed that moment in my head for hours on end. The beginning always stays the same, but the ending… that’s been subject to many changes. It started off simple, we’d chat alittle longer, I’d ask you how your day was; you’d tell me it was ‘fine, thank you’.

Or you’d ask me why I decided to move in, why I chose this side of town, this side of town, this apartment building, across from you. That one always ended questionably and I’d rather not explore that one on paper.

My favorites however were the ones where you’d laugh at a stupid pick-up line and somehow we’d end up in your bed. The bed I’ve sat and watched you sleep in. Those were the best additions.

Now, I’ve been fortunate enough that you’ve been loyal, faithful and devoted to only me since the very beginning. So I don’t really have a clue what you’d actually be like in bed.

But god it’s so fun to imagine it.

You’ve got such pretty, soft skin. You let me mar it up with my teeth and soothe it with my tongue. You let me grip the pillowy flesh of your thighs to spread you open for me. You let me pinch and roll and pull your nipples until they were raw and begging for a break. You let me caress the sensitive slick covered folds between those beautiful pussy lips, plunge my fingers in as far as they’d go.

I took you from behind, watching your perky little ass bounce off my cock while I plowed into you. Your face smushed against the couch cushions and your body folded over the arm rest for me to fuck you like the good little girl that you are.

Against the wall with your arms around my neck while I’ve got my hands holding you spread open and in place by the crook of your knees. You promised you stay real still so that I could drill up into you like you deserved.

God damn. Do you know how good you look like that? Back arched against the wall, tits jiggling in my face with every thrust. Your legs pushed up and back to the sides of your torso, to pin you in place?

It was like a pretty pink flower had bloomed and spread its buttery smooth petals just for me.

Don’t even get me started on how good you suck cock. Have you ever been told you could be mistaken for a warm, wet Hoover? No? Didn’t think so cause that would be rude as hell, but I bet someone’s thought it before.

(Me. It’s me, I thought that.)

Fuck those soft lips. Fuck that smooth snake of a tongue. Fuck that tight, hot throat that just loves to take a beating from my dick.

Can’t wait to prove my imagination right.

Speaking of, my dick has been beat. Like actually. If one didn’t know any better they’d assume it’s on life support, but I’m a freak of nature. Cumming upwards of 16 times in the span of 40ish hours would probably put a weaker man in a hospital bed. Or maybe a psych ward.

But I am not a weak man even if my dick feels raw. I’d still fuck you if you asked.

I’d be curious to know if I’d be able to stave off cumming longer from all the abuse or if I’d be so fucking sensitive that I wouldn’t make it in half an inch.

Probably the latter.

Diary Entry: August 2nd

Being so close to you is killing me. Truly it is.

You’ve sunken your claws so deeply into my very soul and you don’t even realize it. It’s torture. To you, I’m just the new guy, nice dude who gave you a book. But to me? You’re my entire world.

I’ve been told I have the personality of a guard dog. Soft and squishy on the inside, dangerous and fierce on the outside. Which I suppose could be true, but really I think it’s for a different reason. For a human, a dog is one small but very impactful blip in your life. But for the dog? You are it’s life.

Am I comparing myself to a dog right now? Yes I am.

I’ll beg for you to throw me the scraps of your affections until you finally toss me a bone.

Bark.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I’ve been trying my best to give you space. To plan accordingly and in advance. I have our next two interactions simmering on the back burner.

I know that if I go too hard, too fast, you’ll be overwhelmed. That’s the last thing I want. I never want to be the thing that causes you stress, I want to siphon it from you. So, in one week I will set out to help you with a few of your errands and plant a few seeds.

But until then, we have late night snacks and couch chats with Boogie.

I’ve also been doing- you guessed it- more research to do with helpful vitamins and medicines. You’ve responded so well to your SleepyTime tea and since I’ve started making sure your birth control packet is plainly visible in the countertop basket directly beneath that cabinet, you’ve been taking it so well.

I’m so proud of you sweetheart, that’s my girl, look at you taking care of yourself. You’ve done so well in fact, that it’s in my personal opinion that you have earned a very special reward.

Anakin sat on his couch, the live feed of your living room screen mirrored to his Tv. He was watching you cook dinner, he knew you’d be making a stir fry. He’d seen it in your planner, so he’d taken the liberty of ordering himself the same, it’d be here any minute. As would your good friend Sam.

Anakin had originally burned red hot with jealousy at the thought of you inviting a man over to your apartment, that he hadn’t vetted via social media and a quick drop-in. But he was relieved to discover that Sam was just a girl from your book club.

This wasn’t one of his well thought out plans, this was decided upon this morning after you’d returned from book club. So, he was anxious to see if his hunches served him well. Sam seemed like a punctual gal, at least from what he’d seen on social media and the text messages between the two of you from weeks/months before.

Anakin had the wonderful idea to log into your cell service providers website to pull your deleted messages from their data bank. You really should have better passwords.

The thing he was most worried about was his door dasher arriving on time. It was rare that one was too far off on arrival time, but it would be his shit luck and lack of planning that could ruin this little glimpse of you.

The minutes ticked by and he was alerted to the new motion sensors he’d placed near the LED pathway lights on the paved entrance to the apartment building. He quickly switched over to the hallway feed at the front door, seeing that it was his door dasher.

Damn you Trevor. How dare you get there before Sam.

Not to worry, he’d call for the door code and Anakin wouldn’t answer the first time. It wasn’t much but it would buy him a few seconds.

Though it seemed to be that luck was on his side as it often was when it came to you. Sam was so kind, kind enough to let the delivery guy into the building. Which is technically a security concern but Trevor didn’t seem like the type of guy who’d be able to remember a 6 digit door code.

He was too busy staring at your friends ass to pay attention to the numbers she entered anyway.

The footsteps approached your door and his, Anakin waited until he heard Sam knock on your door before he opened his. Trevor stood patiently as Anakin slowly counted out his tip in cash and thankfully you were quick to let your friend inside. After the exchange was complete Anakin gave you a smile and wave.

He could’ve had a heart attack at the response you gave him.

A flirty little finger waggle and smile.

He had to remind himself to breathe and keep his expression a happy-neutral. He’d hate for you to see his blushing cheeks this early on.

“Have a good night girls.” He said as he closed his door and to his surprise you actually answered.

“You too!”

If he weren’t confident that you were a sweet and loving soul, he’d think you were trying to kill him with the siren song of your voice.

Stir fry had never tasted so fucking good.

Diary Entry: July 8th

Grocery day baby, here I come.

I love that you’re so predictable. I love that you’re so fucking cute and always try to strong arm your groceries in one trip. I love that it takes at least two good whacks to the trunk of your shitty old Nissan to properly close it.

It’s cute to watch you struggle with it, the annoyed huffs and angry scowl.

I thought you’d combust on the spot once when your paper grocery bag of flour and sugar ripped open and sent a plume of flour up on your black jeans. The parking lot was very empty and I was very glad because I’d hate for someone to have seen the cursing contest you had with yourself as you picked up your spilled items. Very unladylike you know. But it’s you so I don’t mind, I just like to hear you talk.

It’s almost time. I’ve been sitting in my car for about 10 minutes. Gotta account for the traffic on highway 76. Do you really have to shop all the way out there just because of the Whole Foods? C’mon baby they have the same shit at Kroger.

I’ve been watching your little blue dot on my phone and you’re rounding the corner so I’ll write you later doll.

I love you.

You pulled into the parking lot and sat in your car for a moment. Giving yourself the much need quiet to decompress from your work day and the grocery trip. After you’d checked your messages and scrolled for a moment you decided it was time to head inside before your frozen foods got… not so frozen.

You popped the trunk and fumbled with the faulty latch, your fingers feeling blindly under the metal lip until it finally detached and you were able to open the trunk.

You took a deep breath and scolded yourself for buying the extra few things that could’ve waited till next time. Second trips are for wimps and you weren’t one. So you loaded up your left arm bag by bag until you heard a humored puff of air and the beep of a car locking behind you.

“Need a hand sweetheart?” Anakin grinned, shoving his keys into his front pocket.

He waltzed over and took a few bags off your hands without waiting for a response. It took you aback, not because he hadn’t waited for permission, but because of the way he exuded an odd charm that made you falter.

“Anakin, really it’s alright I can get it.” You said, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion by his kind gesture.

“Mmm no, this seems like a two man mission sweet girl.” He smiled, gathering up a few the last few bags from the trunk and shutting it with one solid push.

“You really don’t have to-“

“I know I don’t have to.” He said tilting his head toward the apartment building to encourage you to walk with him. “I want to.”

“Thank you, that’s… thanks.” You smiled, a light blush creeping across your cheeks.

“Atta girl.” He chuckled, tapping in the door code and holding it open for you despite holding many more bags than you.

Something about the low tone of voice or maybe just the way he looked at you with his icey blue eyes… just sent a chill down your spine. A quick one that was gone in an instant, replaced by a warm glow in the center of your chest.

“Guess chivalry’s not dead.” You joked.

“I’m no knight.” He laughed, “but you’re sure as hell a princess.”

‘Oh that was smooth.’ You thought, trying to ignore the heat at the bottom of your stomach.

What is happening? How on earth can one man be so… everything? Kind, caring, chivalrous and gorgeous to boot.

You felt a wave of embarrassment at the squeaky giggle you let out. He had you tore up from one little comment.

True to the gentleman he seemed to be, he chose not to push it and tease you about your beet red cheeks. He just waited patiently for you as you unlocked your door.

“Do you want me to bring these in for you?” He asked, watching your movements closely.

“Oh that would be great.” You said in relief, leading him into your kitchen.

“Cute little place.” He said, looking around the kitchenette and over to the living room.

He sat down your bags on the counter and started unloading them neatly into rows.

“Oh, you-“

“Mmm mmm.” He shook his head with a smirk, “Just let me help, it’s no big deal.”

You let out a puff of air in an amused sort of amazement and pulled out your little step stool to open up the cabinets. Anakin snickered from behind you as you stepped up and started putting things away.

You shot him a glare over your shoulder and almost said something snarky until you realized he was folding your paper grocery bags in the same way that you always do.

“Huh.” You laughed. “I thought I was the only one who did that.”

“Did what?” He asked, his head cocked to the side.

“Fold the bags.” You said, turning back around to continue placing your things where they belonged.

“Oh,” he chuckled, “I dunno it’s just a habit I guess. Fits better in that stupid slot on the recycling bin this way.”

“Yeah I never really understood why they made them that way? I guess so people don’t just shove other trash in there.” You mused.

“Mmhm probably.” He agreed, stacking them neatly and gathering it in his hands. “Do you want me to take these out back for you?”

“I can do-“ You stopped yourself when Anakin raised his eyebrow and cocked his head to the side with a crooked smirk.

You sighed and gave him a downturned smile. “Yes, I would love for you to take them out back for me.”

“Good girl.” He nodded, clicking his tongue and heading for the door. “See ya princess.”

After he shut the door you let yourself breathe alittle easier, blowing out the air in a short puff through your nose. Maybe even letting a little smile cross your lips before you finished up your task.

You’d be thinking about that low rumble of his voice later. Good girl? Shit.

PART FIVE

Tag-List:

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dracowars · 27 days ago

Text

angel | annatar

pairing: annatar x elf!reader

word count: 3,1k

summary: where annatar fails to protect what is most precious to him

a/n: this man has me in a chokehold, writing for him is so much fun!! thank you for all the love and support on my first annatar one shot, i'm so excited to write more for him in the future. i hope you enjoy this one as well and ily all <3

warnings: angst, manipulation, violence, mentions of blood, mentions of severe injuries, mentions of death, character death

universe: the rings of power

You breathe in relief when you finally reach a clearing, the fresh air blowing through your hair, the sun high in the sky warming your face. Breathing heavily and holding on to the stones at the exit of the cave tunnel you just stumbled through, you leave the protective walls behind you with a few more steps. Your gaze wanders over Eregion, immediately diminishing the short spark of joy you felt. The beautiful city, your home, lies in ruins. Most of the buildings have crumbled or burned beyond recognition and even from up here you can hear the roar of the numerous orcs invading the city. The sun, which brightens yet another day, does nothing to cheer you up. It is merely a reminder of what you have lost in the last few horrifying hours. The night may be over, but the battle is not.

You take a moment to take in the disaster, but hiss when you suddenly feel a stabbing pain in your abdomen. The climb up here has cost you an enormous amount of strength and you can't even formulate a coherent thought anymore. You look down at yourself, your precious dress dirty and torn. Trembling, you remove your hand from the wound on your stomach, where an arrow had pierced your flesh just a few moments ago. You broke it off in agony and tried to stop the blood with your hand, but you continue to lose blood, causing you to stagger a little.

You are not a fighter, you are a simple elf and resident of Eregion. Never in your eternal life would you have expected to see Eregion fall. And its Lord with it.

Celebrimbor has been entirely dedicated to the creation of the Rings of Power. For the past few weeks he has been left in solitude to end what he started. You gave him the time and space he needed. And prayed that he finishes his work before it finishes him, as Lord Annatar put it. But what did all these precautions ultimately lead to? You stood there, watching your only home get destroyed. You stood there, watching your best friend fall to her death by the hand of Celebrimbor. You stood there and let him accuse Annatar of the most atrocious deeds.

Annatar, who sacrificed so much for him, for this city. Annatar, who always helped everyone in need, who did not shy away from standing up against the Lord of Eregion or fighting for the well-being of the elves.

Annatar, who captured your heart.

Which is why you find yourself on top of a mountain right now and not in the middle of a fight for life or death. Celebrimbor's mind is gone. And the proof lies right in front of you, your beautiful, breathtaking Eregion - nothing more than rubble and ashes.

All you knew is that you had to follow him.

'Stay', Annatar told you with his beautiful shining eyes in which you discovered the stars. 'You are safe here.'

You nodded. And still followed him.

And now you understand why you should have listened to him. As you turn around and look into the forest that is at the top of the mountain, you see him standing there, his sword drawn. But he is not alone. At first you thought that your eyes were playing tricks on you, that the heavy loss of blood was confusing your thoughts, causing you to hallucinate, but you actually see Galadriel standing opposite him.

Not only that, they are also surrounded by orcs who are just waiting for the order to attack. An order from none other than Adar, who is slowly walking towards Annatar now as well, with his weapon drawn.

"No", you gasp under your breath, stumbling your way toward them. You take one painful step after the other. They haven't noticed you yet, the trees covering you protectively. Breathing heavily, you lean against a broad trunk, a few steps already exhausting your weak body, Annatar's words wafting over to you more and more clearly the closer you get. You swallow hard, but as you want to turn to them, your gaze is caught by an orc lying dead on the ground, his blade capturing the sunlight breaking through the treetops.

Carefully, you approach the creature and grab its weapon in a swift movement. The handle of the sword feels heavy in your hands and you would rather drop it immediately. But you have to somehow make sure that you can defend yourself if necessary. Once again, you breathe in and move on.

Galadriel and Adar are facing Annatar together now, apparently coming to a silent agreement to focus their attention on Annatar for the time being. Once you realize this betrayal, your weakend heart beats faster. Because how can Galadriel of the Ñoldor, daughter of the Golden House of Finarfin, Commander of the Northern Armies of High King Gil-galad, side with this monster? With the man who is responsible for numerous deaths, for the destruction of Eregion? Whose orcs are currently ravaging an entire city, dividing families and carrying elven souls on their conscience.

Blinking your tears away that well up in your eyes at the thought and sight of it, you try to steady your steps. When you were just a little elf, you looked up to Galadriel, but now you don't recognize her anymore, from the stories you were once told. The only thing that calms you down a little is the fact that Annatar doesn't seem surprised by this turn of events at all. He stands there, his dark armour swallowing the rays of sunshine, his sword lying loosely in his hand. If you didn't know better, you imagine that you can even see a mischievous, knowing smile on his lips from the distance.

In a high arc, Galadriel swings her sword at Annatar and thus opens the fight. Annatar, however, dodges the attack skillfully, making it look like it was not even remotely dangerous for him. In contrast, Galadriel has to parry his blows with great effort. You didn't know that Annatar was such a good fighter, but it seems like he always has a trick up his sleeve.

Even when Adar joins the fight and Annatar now has to dodge two life threatening blades, he is not challenged at all. Although you wonder how long he can keep this up. No matter how good of a fighter he is, immortal or not, the odds are clearly against him. That is why you look around for help, searching for something that could potentially aid him in this battle. However, all you see is a lot of orcs standing at the other end of the clearing, idly watching the spectacle. Fearing that they might spot you, you step back in order to be hidden from their view by the thick trunk of a tree. Or so you hope.

As you move, a branch cracks under your boots. The sound is barely audible, but Annatar's gaze meets yours in an instant and his eyes widen almost imperceptibly. It only takes that one split-second glance for him to discover that you are badly injured. That you are bleeding. And that you have disobeyed his words, his direct order.

Although he is only distracted for a tiny second, Galadriel takes this chance and strikes, hitting Annatar's face with the tip of her sword, which inevitably makes you gasp aloud in shock. Now Galadriel and Adar definitely noted your presence, the orcs as well, but you can only watch in silence as a tiny droplet of blood runs from the cut on Annatar's cheek.

"Leave! This is not your fight", Galadriel calls over to you, breathing heavily, her face and golden hair dirty. Her expression screams at you to go. Adar, on the other hand, looks at you with pity. And Annatar looks like he is about to burn the whole world down. In one swift move, he attacks Galadriel again, unable to believe that she has actually shed his blood.

You are forced to tear your eyes away from the fight, however, when you suddenly hear snarling and footsteps on the leaf-covered ground to your left. Your presence on top of the mountain seems to have peaked the orcs' interest.

Sharp pain shoots through your entire body as you lean your back against the tree trunk in order to hide your body from their view. You close your eyes to be able to discern their sounds better, breathing heavily. Gripping the hilt of the sword tightly with both hands, pressing it against your breasts with the blade pointing towards the ground, you stand there completely motionless. At least you try to, but the sword almost slips from your hands, your palms slick with your own blood, making it all the more difficult to hold on to. Your breathing is still louder and faster than you wish and you know that the creatures can smell your blood from miles away anyway.

They talk to each other as they get closer to you, completely ignoring their father's fight in the promising prospect of prey. When they are about to reach the tree behind which you are hiding, a command rings out through the thicket and the orcs look to its source and so do you. Before you can even realize what is happening, however, a blade suddenly pierces through Adar's upper body, causing the orcs to roar loudly. In an instant, they all charge towards the two figures that are still standing, Annatar's sword stained with black blood. To your surprise, not all of the orcs attack their father's murderer; some of them suddenly stab Adar, who has collapsed on the ground, with their own weapons.

They stab him again and again, black blood splattering everywhere. Bile rises in your throat, which you quickly swallow as you turn away from the horrifying sight.

When you hear your name across the clearing, however, you spot Annatar, who comes running towards you, the momentary chaos apparently enabling him to escape from the action as he reaches his hand out to you.

"You need to leave. Now", he orders, but you just shake your head with tear-filled eyes, which earns you a stoic but compassionate and sad look from him. He opens his mouth to reply, but doesn't get the chance when you suddenly see an orc charging towards you. With all your strength, you push Annatar away from you, so that the orc's axe lands in the tree trunk between the two of you. The sudden movement makes you dizzy and you almost fall to the ground if Annatar didn't grab your upper arm in the last second and pulled you up against him. The orc, now dead by his blade, lies to your feet.

The battlefield that stretches out before you is terrible: Adar's lifeless, blood-soaked body lies on the ground, Galadriel has to defend herself against some orcs, but the majority of them are attacking each other, apparently not agreeing on which orders they should follow now that Adar is dead. Some of them come towards you as well, not understanding their dead brother's warning. Annatar quickly grabs your hand and walks ahead, his body serving as a protective shield for you.

If you can't protect yourself, he will have to.

Together you fight your way through the charging orcs, whom Annatar defeats without much effort, so that you find yourself facing Galadriel again. She stands in front of you, dead orcs to her feet, one hand on her hip as she is obviously quite out of breath. When she spots you behind Annatar's back, her eyes widen.

"You're on the wrong side", she whispers through clenched teeth and slowly moves to the right, as if she wants to circle her prey. Annatar squeezes your hand briefly and then lets go so that he can fully concentrate on the fight in front of him. Before that, however, he signals you to move a little farther away, which you do immediately.

"Where are the rings?", he asks her, keeping a close eye on her, waiting for her next move. Meanwhile, you are struggling to ignore how the remaining orcs behind them are still fighting each other to death.

Instead of answering him, Galadriel sprints towards him with a battle cry and their swords meet several times. The force behind it causes Annatar to stumble a few steps backwards, towards you. Your vision is now so blurred, the pain running through your whole body so numbing, that you hardly notice it. You only vaguely perceive Annatar moving on to the next attack. Exhausted, you squeeze your eyes shut in the hope that the fog will clear from your vision. But it is to no avail. Everything is still blurry.

What you do see, however, is a small pouch lying next to the spot where Galadriel and Annatar are currently fighting. Narrowing your eyes, you try to discern what it could be, until Annatar's previous words come to your mind.

The rings. Galadriel must have lost them in the fight without noticing.

Making up your mind, you stumble a few weak, trembling steps towards it, away from the seemingly endless fight. When you reach the small pouch, you fall to your knees and carefully take it in your shaking hands. When you peak inside, several beautiful rings shine at you, enveloping you in their spell for a moment.

A moment it takes for an orc to stand in front of you with his raised blade after spotting you with the rings. A moment in which you can only raise your head and look the beast in the eye. Then his blood splatters everywhere, covering you in it, when his head is suddenly separated from the rest of his body with a clean cut. He would have ended your life here and now. You let out a frightened scream and frantically scramble to stand up when you feel a gentle touch on your arm. Looking deep into Annatar's eyes, you try to thank him for saving your life once again, but your vocal cords are not able to form any coherent words.

Then, everything happens very quickly. Out of the corner of your eye you see Galadriel rushing towards the two of you, her sword drawn. As if time moves very slowly, your gaze wanders to the man in front of you, who is unaware of the impending danger. Because his focus was on you, on protecting you. Without thinking twice, you tug on his arm, pulling him in your direction, and walk towards Galadriel yourself, throwing your beaten body between them.

You exhale in shock as her sword pierces right through your middle.

"NO!", you hear Annatar cry out loudly, anger and sadness mingling in his voice which breaks at the end. Galadriel, who is just as shocked as you are, stands in front of you with tears in her eyes. Her hand around her sword is trembling.

"I- I-", she stammers, but doesn't get much further as Annatar pushes her away with so much force that she flies through the air. She hits the ground and remains there, motionless. Gasping for breath, you fall to the ground as well, no longer able to hold yourself upright. Involuntarily, your hand goes to where the sword is still sticking out of you.

It hurts. It hurts so much that you can't even shed a tear, your breath catching in your throat. Black dots appear in your vision, covering the blue sky like stars. But then Annatar's face appears in front of you and they suddenly disappear.

"Stay with me. You hear me? Don't go", he shouts at you as he kneels next to you and bends over your fragile body, gently lifting you so that he can place your head on his lap. "No, no, no", he whispers quietly to himself, his hand wandering over your upper body without touching it, as if he could only do more damage otherwise.

You can't do anything but lie there, your throat too dry to choke out another word. The sun shining from behind Annatar's head makes him look like an angel, bringing a gentle smile to your chapped lips. With a trembling hand you lift the little pouch, which you still had in a firm grip, up to him.

Annatar's eyes widen and as soon as he feels the rings in his hand, he discards them. He feels your willpower leaving. Desperate for help, he looks around, thinking about how he could help you, how he could save you. But Galadriel is gone, with her one of the elven rings which might have given you a slim chance of survival. And he can't use the Nine because he personally made sure that they were corrupted.

"Why would you do that?", he asks you now, sounding so defeated, not understanding how you could give your life for his so thoughtlessly. If only you had known that he is not easy to kill, that his immortality cannot be threatened by a simple sword.

And yet here you are, on your way to the Halls of Mandos in Valinor.

"You can't leave me", Annatar says almost reproachfully, his hand gently stroking your still soft hair. His eyes, which look deep into yours, are getting glassier each moment. He simply can't accept that you are leaving him now, that you are leaving him alone, the only person who ever truly cared for him. Who made his cold heart of stone a little warmer, a little softer.

You were supposed to be his. His and only his forever.

"Leithio nin¹", your weak voice whispers in Sindarin, your hand searching for his and finally enveloping it on top of your slow beating heart. You tell him to release you, to release you from this pain, and yet he can't fathom how he should ever be able to let you go.

"I will bring you back. We will meet again, I will make sure of that. I promise. Even if I have to burn down the whole of Middle-earth just to see you again", he says, giving you one last promise which you consider with a small smile, your eyes heavy. You look at him closely one more time, to memorize his face for eternity, your trembling hand reaching for him. Before you can touch him one last time, feel his soft skin beneath your fingertips, your eyes close forever.

"Gi melin²", Annatar sobs, the words following you along on your journey before your last breath finally leaves you and your body goes limp in his arms. He puts his forehead against yours, pulling you as close to him as possible, rocking you, and a single tear finds its way down his cheek.

After just a few seconds, the sadness inside him mixes with anger. With unrelenting, burning anger. He will make everyone suffer for his loss.

He meant every word he said. He will bring you back, no matter what it takes.

And the One Ring will help him.

¹ Release me

² I love you

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comingdownwithme · 2 months ago

Text

CW: Mentions and discussions of intrusive thoughts, details of said intrusive thoughts

also not beta read and it's 6 am at the time of posting so–

"Tobes," Jeff said as he exhaled smoke, blue eyes averted to the cigarette fixed between his fingers, "D'ya think I'm a, uh, bad person..?"

"Huh?"

Toby blinked and stopped chewing his nail.

"Uhm, wh- what?"

"D'ya think I'm a bad person," Jeff repeats, louder, clearer this time, as he fidgets with his cigarette.

Toby let his words sink in, processing them, before he turned just slightly to watch the other teen from the corner of his eye. Jeff's hand over his shoulder squeezed faintly at the slight movement, an unconscious reaction under Toby's watchful gaze.

"Whu- Why...?" He asked.

"Jus' gimme a yes or no, Tob–"

"No. N- now t- t- tell me why."

Jeff pressed his lips close.

Neither boy said anything for a long moment. There was only the faint cacophony of the street life below them, melding together with the distant chirp of birds that flew over their small, suburban town.

Twenty minutes. That's all they've got left until the bell signaling the end of their lunch period rang. Then it'll be three or so hours until the two would see each other again with Liu in tow for their commute home.

So, as he brought the cigarette to his lips, Jeff decided it'd be best to just rip the bandaid off now than to let it worsen and fester later.

This isn't the first time he's been this vulnerable to Toby anyways, having felt as if he had pulled his ribcage apart to expose his damned soul under his careful eyes, nor did he think this would be the last.

This is just the first time the thought had actually scared him enough to think that maybe– maybe this was the last straw, the line he'd cross that would lead to the loss of his very lifeline.

Jeff inhaled, warmth filled his lungs.

He held that breath.

Then, he exhaled.

And he smelled smoke.

"I..." Jeff glanced up, meeting his best friend's dark eyes, before his gaze flickered down to his feet. "I've been thinkin'..."

"Damn, di- didn't know you–" Toby cracked his neck, "you c- could."

He couldn't help it, and Jeff let slip a snort. "Shuddup,"

Toby rolled his eyes before he elbowed him.

"Yeah, yeah, gettin' on with it," He huffed. "I've just... Sometimes these... thoughts come up."

"Th- thoughts?" Toby raised a brow.

"Bad ones, yeah..." Jeff explained.

Toby hummed, contemplative. "Like...?"

Jeff stared down at his cigarette, watching as smoke slowly rose from the burning end.

"I- I won't make fu- fun of y- y- you, if that's what you're think- thinking."

"Nah," Jeff blew a heavy breath, the scent of nicotine lingering on his tongue. "That's not what I've thought 'bout..."

"What i- is it then?"

"I've thought about hurtin' you."

Jeff let the confession settle between them, and he occupied his free hand by rolling the cigarette between his fingers.

He doesn't meet Toby's eyes when he continues.

"Hurtin' Liu too," He says, "An' mama, daddy... myself...

"I- I uh,"

Jeff's mouth hung open briefly as he tried to organise his thoughts, formulate his words in a way that won't cause his best friend- his only friend- to run off. He knew it was an uphill battle, but before he knew it, words spilled free from his tongue, desperate to pull the suffocating weight of guilt that's been festering, rotting inside him, off of his chest.

"When daddy took me huntin'– you weren't 'round here then, I was eight– I helped him hunt squirrels, had to hold 'em.

"He gave me one, a- an' I held it's limp lil' body in my lil' hands..."

The long, pale fingers that rested over Toby's shoulder flexed involuntary, squeezing the other boy's shoulder.

"I- It was..." Jeff paused, and he pulled in a shuddering breath. "I... I wanted ta crush it's head, hear it's skull crack open in my palms, feel the shards poke outta it's skin, and–"

"B- But did you do it?"

Jeff blinked.

Slowly, he turned to face the shorter teen, and after what felt like an entire lifetime, blue eyes finally met brown.

"Wha–"

"D- did you do it," He asked again, firmer this time.

"Fuck no! I wouldn't–"

"And w- would you hurt m- m- me? How about Liu? Your mo- mom? Dad?"

Jeff pressed his lips into a thin line.

An eye twitched before Toby simply raised a brow in response.

"I..." Jeff sighed. "N... No,"

"Then there's noth- nothing t- t- to worry abou- about."

"Tobes, I just told you I've thought about hurtin' you."

"And I knew you si- since I was– what? T- t- ten?" Toby broke his gaze and huffed out a laugh. "Jeff, you're not gonna hu- hurt me."

Jeff studied his best friend's face with furrowed brows as Toby's words settled between them. Despite the weight of Jeff's confession and the uneasiness even he felt at the mere thought alone, as the gentle brush of an afternoon wind ruffled brunette locks over his freckled cheeks, Toby met Jeff's gaze from the corner of his eyes and smiled.

"You're..." Jeff's mouth hung open briefly, eyes flickering to the floor. "Toby, you're so fuckin' weird."

"Yeah, yeah, sh- shut up, you've alr– already t- t- told me before." He huffed, leaning back against Jeff's arms over his shoulder, "Now q- quit the sad sh- shit. You're not a– a bad per- person, alright?"

"I'm..." Jeff sucked in a shuddering breath and held it. "I'm not... a bad person."

"See?" Toby's smile split into a full grin this time, revealing bucked teeth. "N- Now c'mon, I've guh- gotta keep telling you about how much o- of a piece of- piece of shit R- Richardson was e- earlier."

Jeff rolled his eyes, and as his own lips curved upwards into a small, unconscious smile, he held the shorter teen just a bit closer to his side, his cigarette forgotten between his own two fingers.

"Alright, what'd he do now?"

It was as if nothing happened. Toby still talked as if Jeff hadn't just admitted to thinking about hurting him. Hell, he shut it down quick and made him admit- accept that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as bad of a person as he had first thought.

He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Toby's words were only a bandage over an infected wound, that those thoughts aren't going to come up any less or get any better, any less disturbing. But with how he had talked- how he had believed in what he said so easily and with such nonchalance, even Jeff was swayed, willing to forgive even himself for even daring to think about hurting someone good, hurting someone like Toby.

It was just the two of them on that roof that one, cool afternoon, chattering away as the sounds of the surrounding town blurred around them. Jeff had never felt this light, not for as long as he could remember, and as he revelled in the easy flow of their conversation, unburdened by the guilt that would usually taint these small moments, he wanted to hold this one close.

A time where he bore his damned and accursed soul, and how a weird, freckled teen accepted him, all of him.

It was just the two of them on that roof.

Jeff, Toby,

And smoke.

He could still smell it.

It wrapped around his throat, clogging his lungs.

Jeff watched the burning visage of his own home, transfixed from it's front walkway. It illuminated the surrounding streets in a warm glow amidst the dark backdrop of night, and his skin burned with an unrepentant itch, nerves still alight as raw muscle and reddened skin were exposed to the cool evening air.

Whatever dragged itself out of the Woods' home- out of hell, wasn't Jeffery Woods. No, he wouldn't consider himself that, not anymore.

Whatever was left of that troubled teen died in the fires of that house alongside his parents, leaving the charred, burned remains of a deep, primal anger in disfigured, human flesh to watch as the place he once called home steadily burned in it's funeral pyre.

He knew who did this.

And as he pulled himself up, the small movement forcing a sharp gasp from his damaged throat, Jeff knew now for a fact that he wasn't a good person as he moved down the street towards three, distinct houses, fueled by an adrenaline and an anger that burned brighter than the flames he's limping away from.

May God save his soul.

And may his best friend- wherever he is- forgive him for what he's about to do

#oh whoops accidentally dropped a ticcijeff oneshot #this was just an excuse to draw and write them interacting as kids #creepypasta #jeff the killer #ticci toby #ticcijeff #toby erin rogers #jeffery woods #art #digital art #doodles #writing

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atlabeth · 10 months ago

Text

all of me | luke castellan

pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader

a/n: sooooooo i know that i said i would work on something else but this hit me and suddenly i could not rest until i wrote something for it so you're getting headcanons since i can't formulate proper thoughts. some of this is dialogue but most of this is pure stream of consciousness. im already kind of obsessed w them ?

wc: 3.7k lollll this got away from me but it was so much fun.

warning(s): parental death, fighting, normal royal stuff. fluff, angst, all that good shit

princess!reader and knight!luke

yeah

and they're childhood friends bc they grew up in the castle together

YEAH

luke is the son of a kingsguard and he wants to be just like his mom

his father is out of the picture (booo) and his mom never really talks about him but she’s raised luke the best she can

shoutout to may castellan, she was the first female kingsguard! and definitely the first to personally guard the king

you are the heir to the throne and the only thing you're sure of is that you want luke to be in your life

you basically spent all your time together because he was kinda the only one your parents would approve you hanging out with

most of the crownsguard don't have children and those that do have them live with their spouse outside of the palace, and your parents didn't want you spending time with the children of servants

and luke's mom is your father's closest friend because she's the king's personal knight and so everything’s basically already vetted and they don’t have to worry about you accidentally getting murdered by him

so you and luke basically spend every moment of your free time together!!

even when you’re not free tbh

sometimes you beg your tutor to hold your lessons outside so that you can sneak glimpses at the knights training and luke training alongside them

whenever he sees you, his face always instantly brightens and he will lose focus in whatever tf he’s doing because he’s only thinking about you now

and instead of either of you doing what you’re supposed to do, you just spend the whole time making faces at each other and trying to grab the other’s attention

after his mother tries (and fails) to get him back on track a million times and your tutor realizes that you’re never going to listen to her historical prattles they allow the two of you to talk for “FIVE MINUTES AND NO LONGER MY BOY” and your tutor is all “i ask that you do not delay our lessons any further, your highness”

and tbf you and luke could notttttt care less. you immediately join up and you start teasing him about his form and how he was holding his sword and he just makes fun of you for having to be a princess

“Your form is horrendous, Luke! How do you expect to beat anyone holding a sword like that?”

“At least I’ll be on the battlefield one day. You can bore our enemies to sleep with your recounts of Aureldan history.”

“Oh, I bet I could beat you right now. I’ve got royal blood in my veins.”

“And I’ve got knight’s blood in mine,” he says. “I’ve at least got a sword. That’s more than you have.”

You huff. “Mother says I have to learn propriety before I even think about picking up a weapon.”

“Do you want to hold mine?” he asks immediately, his eyes lighting up as he offers it over. “It’s just wood because Mom doesn’t want me to hurt myself, but that means it’s safe for you.”

you do. obviously.

You’ve got soft hands, untouched by the world, and the sword feels foreign in their grasp as you realize this is in fact the first time you’ve ever held a weapon. You cut it through the air a few times and Luke is grinning wider than ever

“I think the role of a warrior princess suits you,” he says.

“It is nice,” you muse as you turn it over in your hands, already growing used to the feeling of it.

“And you look great with it,” he says. “Powerful.”

“I’d give myself a splinter before I can do anything with it,” you retort as you hand it back to him. “It’s a nice thought, though.”

His eyes light up. “You should train with us sometime. My mom is the best at teaching— she’d teach you everything you need to know!”

You glance back at your tutor, who is very clearly eavesdropping, and you sigh as you look back at Luke. “Maybe in a few months.”

Luke’s mother calls his name and it’s obvious that your time is over. You hug each other and promise to meet up as soon as your responsibilities for the day are over, then go back to your respective duties.

Your tutor takes you inside because she doesn’t want anymore distractions, and you wave at each other like crazy as you’re walking back into the castle.

so yeah. you’re best friends and you have been since you first met as children, and though it is a battle for your betters to keep you on task if you’re near each other, you just light up when you see each other and it actually helps

You’re learning dining etiquette and if you get told that you’re using the wrong spoon again, you’re going to lose your mind.

luke is hurrying through the halls to catch up with his mother and you both catch a glimpse of each other.

your posture straightens, he stops in his tracks, and you both smile at each other. then luke’s mother calls his name again and he’s on his way again.

spoons aren’t that bad, you think

you’re mulling over history books in the library that make you want to fall asleep.

luke just happens to be walking past on the way to his chores, and when he spots you, he yells out your name and waves at you. you wave back, and you both stifle laughs as your tutor shushes you

suddenly, you’re not feeling so down.

Luke is training on his own out in the yard before dinner and he’s about ready to break his sword over his knee because he can not get this damned move right.

he hears your voice across the way and sees you, all dressed up and with your parents about to get into a carriage. you’re on your way to a ball, he remembers you telling him earlier, and he finds himself smiling.

You had been complaining about it, and Luke had told you to just think of the two of you hanging out whenever you were bored. You said you were already planning on it.

His smile widens. He’d be thinking of you too, wondering what it would be like for him to attend with you. Dressed in the same gaudy outfits as the rest of the court, having to go through the same dull niceties that you’d been raised on, listening to stories from other royals he couldn’t care less about.

Standing beside you as an equal.

Luke’s young, but he already doesn’t care for nobles and their court. But he thinks he would wear any amount of uncomfortable suits and listen to any number of dull proposals for you.

for the rest of the night, he trains better than he thinks he ever has.

and of course, you break the rules together. GOD HELP YOUR CHARGES YOU ALWAYS BREAK THE RULES TOGETHER

your tutor cannot count how many times you’ve slipped out of lessons and she’s found you in the halls talking with luke, him smiling brighter than she’s ever seen as he listens to you go on and on and on

your mother cannot count all the times you’ve talked about what you and luke did that day instead of describing to her any of the history or arithmetic you were supposed to be learning

May always keeps watch over her son, but she’s been known to turn a blind eye when Luke thinks he’s being sneaky to go off and see you.

and of course, sometimes you actually hang out when you’re allowed to hang out lol

you’ve run around every bit of the palace grounds together, you ride horses together (with parental supervision of course), and once you’re a bit older, you’re actually allowed to practice with luke and the rest of the knights!

typically, it’s a shorter session with May teaching the two of you, and typically, it ends with both of you ready to die because you’re just kids and even though Luke is a prodigy, you are sooooo bad at swordfighting. it’s honestly not even funny how bad you are at it the first couple of lessons

But May just pats you on the shoulder and promises to work with you until you’re as good as her.

(luke pouts and says he wants to be better than you. you forget that you’re holding a sword and just start complaining at each other)

(“you CAN’T be better than me luke I’m the princess”) (“YES I CAN MY MOM’S THE GREATEST KNIGHT EVER”) (“SHE PROTECTS MY DAD WHICH MEANS I CAN BE THE BEST EVER”) (“THAT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE”) (“YES IT DOES”) (“NO IT DOESN’T”) (“I’M YOUR PRINCESS YES IT DOES”)

(the lesson ends when May has to pry you two apart)

but we haven’t gotten to the knight part.

because it’s a bit sad.

what happens to may in pjo canon is awful but

May Castellan dies when you and Luke are sixteen. A month after your birthday, in fact. Four months after Luke’s.

(he’s always held those three months over you, especially as you get older.)

(it doesn’t seem to matter as much now.)

rumor has it throughout the kingdom that she slowly went insane and then fully lost it, ultimately dying in an attack against the king during a ball that turned out to be a set-up.

the only one who knows what really happened that night is your father as he was the only other person there at her death that still lives, but he refuses to talk about it, only saying that “Head of the Kingsguard May Castellan died a hero and shall be remembered as such”.

Luke… does not take it well

besides the king, he obviously spent the most time with his mother and it was obvious to anyone that she loved him with all her heart and wanted him to follow whatever dreams he may have had

she’s given a knight’s funeral and you are beside Luke the entire time, holding his hand or him leaning against you as you listen to eulogies or even just sitting next to each other because your presence is enough for him. it doesn’t matter what—you’re always connected in some way, and no one says a single thing.

he needs you, and you need him. it’s as simple as that. and no one dares to correct the princess when she’s icier than they’ve ever seen her.

You put on that front to protect Luke—you don’t want anyone bothering him, and you don’t want him to have to worry about you at a time like this.

Because you know he would. He always does.

When Luke gives his speech, barely able to hold back tears, he looks at you the entire time. he doesn’t tell you, but you’re the only reason he’s able to get through the day.

Luke becomes a ward of the royal family.

There’s no chance you’re letting him leave, and Luke doesn’t want to go either. The memories of his mother all around are painful, but he takes some small comfort that she’ll live on in Aurelda forever.

Your parents have no objection to it—he grew up in the palace anyways, and he can practically provide for himself. You wouldn’t have let them say no.

You’re thankful beyond words that Luke is still here. Because everything feels like a mess, and things are a little more manageable with him by your side.

Someone tried to kill your father. They killed Luke’s mother instead. Both of you are broken in different ways.

Obviously, this sparks the beginnings of war both in Aurelda and in Luke’s entire being.

but that’s a topic for another day.

May’s death changes your relationship.

She was his mother, obviously, but you were close to her as well. you could never forget every time she ruffled your hair and complimented your sword fighting, or every time she would acknowledge you in the midst of a crowd with a smile and a nod, or every time she would act like a mother and not a knight.

she had the best hugs in the entire kingdom.

But her death changes your relationship because Luke changes.

He’s angrier. His edges have all sharpened, honed by his own spirit. He softens when he’s around you, but to the outside eye he’s impenetrable. He thinks you’re the only one that understands him.

Others pity him, fear him, are jealous of him.

You treat him the way you always have. Like your best friend.

That’s all he needs.

And so Luke throws himself into his training, vowing to become the youngest kingsguard in Aureldan history to honor his mother’s memory. He wasn’t able to save his mother, and he needs to become strong enough to protect the ones he loves from anything.

(You don’t know it, but he thinks of you every time he closes his eyes and sees the night his mother died. He’s in the place of his mother and you’re in your father’s position, and Luke knows that he would sacrifice himself for you every single time.)

So you don’t have as much time for each other anymore. Luke is on his kingsguard mission, and you’re starting to come into your own as the Crown Princess of Aurelda.

You can’t sneak out of lessons anymore to go talk with Luke, because you’re starting to learn about the nuances of politics.

Luke can’t let you interrupt his training, because he’s on a warpath and he won’t be stopped before he reaches his goal.

You can’t neglect your responsibilities because they’re more than just etiquette or history lessons. War is going to come to Aurelda sooner or later, and you’ve got to be ready when it does.

You’re only sixteen, but neither of you are children anymore.

But you’re still best friends. Nothing can change that—it’s just changed the way you show it.

You take your morning walks with your mother past the training grounds, and Luke always smiles at you and salutes no matter what. You bow your head in a very refined, princess-y nod, and you continue on.

Luke makes sure he’s always the one that gets to deliver news to you, even going so far as to make deals with other servants and messengers just to make sure he gets to see you at least once a day.

Most of the time, you end up seeing each other at night. Just happening to end up in the kitchens at the same time for a midnight snack that results in hours of talking with each other. Bringing Luke to your balcony to look at the stars together.

Even some midnight training has occurred together, though you always end up a sweaty mess and having to make a bath for yourself because you can’t alert your servants. Luke says he likes you best when you have that vicious glint in your eye while you’re training with him.

Luke still has horrific dreams, and though he weathered them on his own for a while, one night he finds himself outside your door. When you open it, seeing his haunted eyes and disheveled appearance, you let him in immediately.

It’s not the first time you’ve slept in the same bed after nightmares, and you know it won’t be the last.

(You spent the whole week together after his mother’s death. Not even your parents could complain when they saw the change in both of you.)

And Luke does it. He completes his training, having become one of the fiercest and youngest warriors Aurelda has ever seen. Traditionally, knights are older, but an exception was made for Luke—he’s got the Castellan name and a childhood spent with the greatest knights in the kingdom to back him up.

You’re the first person he tells when he finds out, and your scream of pure joy must have echoed throughout the entire castle. You hug him tighter than he’s ever been hugged before, and for just a moment, in your embrace, he feels like you’re both kids again.

Weeks from his eighteenth birthday, your father knights Luke Castellan in an official ceremony.

Not just as a member of the kingsguard, though—he is sworn in as a knight, and as your personal bodyguard.

Your father didn’t tell you beforehand, and you thank a childhood of courtly influence to keep the shock off your face. One hand tightens ever so slightly into a fist, and you let it out just as quickly.

You can’t see Luke’s expression, kneeling and head turned downward. You would pay all the gold in the kingdom to know what he was thinking.

“Sir Luke Castellan.” Your father’s voice booms through the hall, and a shiver even goes down your spine. “Do you swear to serve Aurelda as her loyal knight, through war and peace, through riches and debt?”

“I do,” Luke says.

“Do you swear to protect the Crown Princess of Aurelda—” your father says your entire title, and for the fifth time you wonder how many middle names a princess needs, “—my daughter—with everything you have in you, until your dying breath?”

Your breathing stills for the slightest moment.

Luke doesn’t flinch. “I do.”

The thought of Luke dying for you is unimaginable. It’s something you’d never ask of him—you don’t think you could live in a world without him anyways. You know it’s what knights are expected to do—for king and country, my life for yours—but that’s for any member of the royal family—any member of the court.

Luke is assigned solely to your protection.

And he doesn’t even falter when he bonds his life to yours.

As soon as the ceremony is over and Aurelda has gained three new knights, you’re on your way to Luke. You don’t care if anyone else wants to talk with the princess, you don’t care if your parents need to tell you something—royal propriety be damned, you need to talk to Luke.

He doesn’t look surprised when you march up to him, but there’s already a different air about him.

Maybe it’s because in these past couple of years he’s absolutely shot up in height, maybe it’s because his insane training regimen has toned every part of him, maybe it’s because he’s done what no one else has done before, or maybe it’s just because he actually accomplished his goal.

But when he smiles at you, that crooked slant to his lips that always meant mischief when you were younger, it’s enough to make that train of thought immediately shut down.

“Princess,” he greets. “I think we’re going to be spending a lot more time together, these days.”

“Yeah,” you say, the warpath you’d intended to be on fading away almost immediately with his words (and that goddamned smile that will certainly be the death of you someday.) “Maybe this is our way to make up on all that lost time.”

“...I’d like that,” Luke says.

“Can I hug you?” you ask wryly. “Or is that unbecoming of a brand new knight?”

“I don’t think anyone will tell the princess she is doing something wrong,” Luke says.

So you do. You hug him, and he immediately wraps his arms around you, and you hate that you had any doubt that he would. You’ve always felt safe in his embrace even since you were children, and now that he’s four times as strong and much taller, you feel it more than ever.

He truly does look the part of a perfect knight. You remember the days of wooden sword fights and afternoons by the lake, wondering what your future awaited, but sure you would be together no matter what.

You feel like you’ve aged a century since then.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” you say as you pull away. “You’re incredible. I mean— you always have been, but this… It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. So I’m proud of you.”

Luke brushes his curls out of his face with a gauntleted hand, his smile turning a bit more genuine. “It means the world, princess. You are… one of the main reasons that I even made it up here. So I have you to thank.”

You feel your cheeks heat. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You’ve been you,” he refutes. “You’ve stood by my side through everything, and you’ve always been there when I need you no matter what. You’ve done everything.”

You’re thankful for the sheer sleeves of your gown, because now your entire body feels warm. And maybe that’s why you practically blurt the question out, but it’s been burning in your mind since the moment it happened.

“Did you know?”

He frowns. “Know what?”

“That you would become my personal guard,” you said. “You’ve wanted to be a part of the kingsguard since you were a child, and now…”

“Princess,” Luke says, “I asked your father for the honor.”

That throws you off. “What?”

“Do you think he would entrust your wellbeing to just anyone?” he asks. “It’s part of the reason I’ve been training so hard—I wanted to prove to him that I was worthy of the position.”

“Luke—” you start, but he shakes his head.

“War is coming to Aurelda whether we like it or not,” he says. “All I want is for you to be safe. This way, I can ensure it.”

“You said you would die for me,” you say. “You vowed it.”

“That is generally how knighthood works, yes—”

“Luke,” you interrupt forcefully. “I don’t want you to die for me.”

“The goal is for nobody to die,” he says wryly.

You cross your arms. “You know what I mean.”

“Your safety is my number one concern, princess,” he says. “That’s all you need to know.”

You stare at him. He stares back.

You win, because Luke sighs and shakes his head. “We don’t have to worry about that at the moment. Right now, you have to get back to change before you sit in on an advisor’s meeting with the king and queen.”

You frown. “How do you know?”

“I’m your guard,” Luke says. “It’s my job to know.”

“You were just sworn in!” you protest.

“And I am always prepared,” he remarks. Luke holds his hand out in a gesture towards the door. “After you, princess.”

You shake your head as you start walking. You hear Luke’s footsteps start soon after, much heavier than yours in full armor as opposed to your ceremonial dress. “You are ridiculous.”

“Which is also my job,” Luke muses.

and so luke becomes a knight, but not just any knight.

your knight.

good luck handling that crush on him you've harbored since childhood now.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan headcanon #luke castellan au #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #knight!luke #sadie writes

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milaisreading · 11 months ago

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Meet the boyfriend

Pairing: Leonardo Luna x Itoshi sister!Yn

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Yn is here like 24 or 25 years old. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️

"Leonardo Luna!!" The blonde flinched from his spot on the couch. (Y/n) wasn't one to yell at him, or anyone as far as he could remember, but when she did it was the scariest experience in his life.

"Yes?" He smiled nervously as (Y/n) walked into the living room, looking pissed at the Spaniard.

"What time is it?" She asked as Luna looked at his phone.

"Like, 10 in the morning."

"And you didn't bother waking me up? You said you would. We are supposed to meet Sae and Rin in an hour."

"In my defense I tried to wake you up, but you sleep like a rock. I tried waking you up for 20 minutes and then gave up." Luna said, raising his arms defensively as (Y/n) stared at him for a moment and growing flustered by his words. She did believe him that one, her parents and brothers did tell her the same thing in the past.

"I am sorry for yelling at you like that. I am just stressed." (Y/n) sighed in defeat as Luna pulled her down to the couch, hugging her right after.

"What's wrong, mi vida? You are never like this?" Came his worried response right after. (Y/n) kept quiet for a moment, unsure how to formulate her thoughts the best. This meeting was very important to her, after all, her brothers are very protective of her, even if they were younger.

"It's just that this whole you meeting my brothers thing is stressing me out. You guys aren't on the best terms, and I fear how Rin might react. Sae might take it better but I don't think he will try to calm Rin down-"

Before she could continue her ramble, Luna moved closer and kissed her. This surprised her, but she quickly recovered and kissed him back. The two parted after a minute and Luna gave her a warm smile, pulling her into a hug.

"It will be alright. I love you,and you love me. Whatever the two say won't bother me much."

"It won't?" (Y/n) hummed as Luna chuckled a little.

"I play football for a living. I hear insults on the field and critics all the time. Don't worry. But, I doubt they will say much, at least not in front of you." The older Itoshi moved away from the Spaniard, confused by his statement. But, just before she could answer the question, Luna decided to answer it for her.

"They love you, a lot. So I doubt they will say anything that might upset you, in front of you. I think the lunch will go well." Luna said simply, but it didn't help her at all.

"But they will still insult you when I am not there-"

"As I said, I heard worse on the field."

"How are you so relaxed?" She mumbled, pinching Luna's cheek as the blonde laughed.

By the time the two arrived at the restaurant, they were late by a good 20 minutes. Although Luna reassured her that everything will go well, her nerves were still all over the place. Sensing her uneasiness, Luna gave her hand a gentle squeeze, causing the girl to smile at him before looking for her brothers.

'It will go well.' She took a deep breath as she finally found the 2 sitting in a corner.

"Leo, I found them."

"Let's go then." He said casually as he finally spotted the younger two, pulling (Y/n) towards them.

"Sae, Rin, sorry for being late." (Y/n) finally spoke up as they approached their table.

"It's ok, big sis. We just came here as well-" Sae stopped talking as his eyes landed on Luna's form, then they fell onto their hands. Rin, who needed a good minute to connect the dots cleared his throat and spoke up.

"So, this is the guy you are seeing?" He asked coldly, causing (Y/n) to flinch and Luna to chuckle a little.

"S-surprise." She stuttered out as Luna kissed her cheek.

"Leo." (Y/n) looked at him in shock as her brothers yelled at him.

"Hands off!"

"Don't kiss her so casually."

'Most awkward lunch...' (Y/n) thought as she looked at their glaring figures.

#bllk #blue lock anime #blue lock manga #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock scenarios #itoshi sister #leonardo luna #bllk leonardo #blue lock leonardo #leonardo luna x reader #sae itoshi #itoshi rin

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pinkexpertnerdghost · 1 year ago

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A Rose for You!

Lyney x Gn!Reader

Pt.2 to Watch and Be Amazed!

{ Ok! Ya'll asked for it. I kinda wanted to write more in the first part but it was already kinda lengthy. As in the last part there wasn't much one on one Lyney and Reader moments. But don't fret dear [Name]! You'll be in the lovely company of this little magical menace for a tour around the Nation! }

! Some Spoilers for the Fontaine Archon Quest Act 1 and some nudges to Lyney and Lynettes Backstory/Personal Stories !

General: sfw, fluff, Grin Malkin Cat, small Freminet and Lynette cameo, Lyney being the charming little flirt he is, flustered Lyney, french, a wee bit of angst here and there towards the end,

It was a new day, and you felt refreshed. Truly, Fontaine is one of the most snazziest places you’ve ever been in. Alongside the technological advancements, there was much attention to the intricacies of decorum and an artistic romanticism in the most mundane activities. Although, the air was a bit smellier than the countryside and the stars couldn’t sparkle as brightly.

You had woken up from your slumber, the sun beaming through the thin curtains by the window. Next to your bedside was a small nightstand with a beautiful lamp and the prop card laying face down.

You rolled a bit around in your bed until you laid on your back facing the ceiling.

Your mind wandered to the events that unfolded last evening. The colorful memory replayed in your mind like moving photographs.

The doves, cats in hats, paper butterflies and a pair of soft lilac eyes.

You sighed.

From the walk to your hotel yesterday, you had viciously tried to recount the events that happened. At what point did Lyney slip this note in your sleeve? And why didn’t you notice sooner?

You had trouble sleeping that night.

Lyney couldn’t have been serious could he? It was just a part of the show, of course he would shower you with pretty words and a suave demeanor . It's part of his charming routine, nothing more.

Then again…

Why did he whisper at you so much? Now you thought about it, you were up there for at least one two..TECHNICALLY FOUR ACTS?! Also, he stopped you after the show to talk. AND NOW HE HANDED YOU A CARD ASKING YOU OUT?! No WaIT- Not ‘Out Out’ like a date or anything, an outing as friends? Can you even call him that?! What acquaintance just requests a day to hang out together? HE ISN'T BREAKING SOME PERFORMER AUDIENCE ETIQUETTE REGULATIONS IS HE?!-

Overthinking can lead to a very unsettled mindset preventing you from getting proper rest.

So here you were, laying like a beached seal on your bed. You didn’t bother to get up right away. Too lazy and your head was fizzed out of thoughts.

You shifted your head around, the bedding beneath you shuffled along. On the nightstand was the prop card you had found in your sleeve last night.

You eyed the shiny piece of paper. The little red grinning cat silhouette on the backside felt like it was taunting you. Calling you pathetic as it stared at you from atop his side table throne.

Stretching your arms above your head, you finally sat up.

You reached and picked up the card, holding it with your index and thumb. Once again you carefully read the words that were written on the front in cursive.

“ I hope you had a magical evening, [Name]. Meet me by the bench near the potted flowers by the station at noon tomorrow. If you show up, best prepare for I still have tricks up my sleeve that will leave you dazzled! ”

You stared at it and noticed it was written on what was a blank playing card.

Staring at how the curved letters formulated each word you wondered.

Meet him at the benches by the Aquabus station by noon. Did you really trust this man? Even though he is technically a celebrity, you just met him not even a day ago.

You swung your feet off the bed, card still in hand. Stepping down onto the small bedside rug, you idled around near the window. It looked to be early morning, you’d guess around eight o’ clock.

“ I don’t have much plans today. Other than wandering the streets and walking into what I think will be interesting.” You said, your voice a bit groggy.

You twirled the card in your hand.

You thought carefully of what you’d do next.

“ I think he might it want back.”

Yeah, that’s it.

“I’m sorry, sir?” You yelped. You had to crane your neck a bit to be able to make eye contact? You didn’t think it had eyes, but nevertheless you made the best effort to stare into its face.

Or what looked to be a face.

You had seen some of them walking about freely in the main city. When you were making your way towards a staircase you bumped into one.

The robotic garde halted and nodded.

‘ Ah, so they can communicate.’

It went back to walking down the street, undeterred. Turning around after that odd exchange you went back to the matter afoot.

You were lost. Lyney never specified which station he’d be waiting in. You were almost half convinced he was going to be at the Marcotte Line; the one closest to the Opera Epiclese. Although, the more you thought about it the less likely he would be there.

He did mention that he might be available to take you to see around Fontaine. So he must have meant the main station hub located in the main city.

Even if he wasn’t there, you’d have that station checked off the list of possibilities.

You hurried up the stairs, the small journey reminding you of the Nation of Freedom surprisingly. Although both were vastly different, they did share a similar style of building upward rather than outward.

Reaching the top, you made your way to the station. You kept your eyes open as you scoped out your surroundings hoping to find a tall tophat.

It shouldn’t be hard right? Someone as extravagant as him would surely stand out.

You stood corrected. It looks like many people here in Fontaine take up the fashion trend that was tall extravagant head wear. You had gone over almost every suspect bench near flora, most of them were occupied by either locals, adventurers or both.

He didn’t seem to be near the reception or the inner waiting area.

“ It's almost noon” you turn to look out a window, the sun is high in the sky now.

“ If I were a famous magician with an outgoing personality, where would I be?” You muttered as you had your eyes peeled, wondering in the same space.

Your eyes followed the cheers of children. Near a bench a group of kids surrounded someone.

“ Wow!”

“Where did it go?”

“Could you do it again mister?”

“ Alright! Since you asked nicely. Watch carefully now!~” You heard a jovial smooth voice.

Looking above the kid group you spot him, seated comfortably playing with his card deck.

‘ Of course! You’d be where a willing audience was present!’

You waltzed over subtly. He was entertaining a group of little kids with some card tricks, you’d let him finish his mini performance before you made yourself known.

“ Is this your card little Mademoiselle?” Lyney knelt down and held up a four of hearts card. The little girl with blonde hair jumped up excitedly.

“ Yeah! That’s my card!”

Lyney laughed, a warm expression graced his features. His eyes met yours for a split second. Not knowing what to do, you sent a little wave. Well at least he knows you're here.

His gaze flitted back to the group of kids. He got back up with the card in hand. “ Before I go, I’ll leave you all with a grand finale!”

The children gasped in unison and quieted down instantly.

He brought the card close to his face. He flicked it two times before crumpling it into his hand.

He shook his hand and reeled it as if he was going to throw a shot ball. He brought his hand up in a presenting way and when his palm opened there was a pop sound. It rained rainbow confetti and small cut out paper stars.

The children ooo’d and awe’d, and two were reaching their little arms up to catch the popper’s confetti.

“ Ta-da! This has been a special performance, brought to you by Magician Extraordinaire Lyney!” The magician lifted his cape from behind him and took a bow. The children clapped and cheered.

Two adults came walking up to the mini crowd.

“ Thank you for entertaining them, Mister Lyney. Getting our little Anais to sit still is a magic trick on its own.” An older woman laughed, as she picked up a small girl who wore a Boater styled hat.

“ Alright Hugo, let's go. Our boat will leave in a few minutes. Say thank you to Monsieur Lyney.” A man with a distinguished mustache taped a young boy in overalls. The little boy with his hands behind his back, thanked the magician before he went off with his father.

Lyney waved the kids off as he walked off towards you.

“ Hey there you. I hope managed to get a full night's rest.” He said, there was this sort of bounce in his voice. You may have only known him for a little while now, but you couldn’t help but pick up some recurring little quirks about him.

He wasn’t much different casually like he was on stage. This guy really does live and breathe in the spotlight huh?

“ Sort of. I had a bit of trouble sleeping.”

‘No way you were going to tell him you were thinking about him. That would make the rest of the day awkward.’

“ I did end up getting some shut eye though, eventually.” You mustered up a reassuring smile.

“ Trouble sleeping?” Lyney tilted his head as his index finger came up to chin. His eyes slightly narrowed as a mischief inducing grin made its way onto his face. “ You weren’t laying awake thinking about me were you?~”

You couldn’t help but widen your eyes and sputter out. Is telepathy in his book of magic tricks too?!

“What? No, of course not!” You forced a cough to cover your small blunder. “It’s just, I need to get accustomed to the climate, that's all. It's like that the first few days in a new location.”

Lyney laughed, his smirk melting into a more genuine expression.

“I’m kidding! That might have been a bit much, sorry about that! Hehe.” He said apologetically.

You crossed your arms as you held a small jaded stare at the cheeky magician. You were doubting if he really meant that. You blew out a held breath.

Reaching into your pocket you fetched the prop card

“ I found this in my sleeve when I left the Opera House. I believe this belongs to you.” You extended his card to him. His eyes suddenly lit up and he swiped the card away from you.

“So this is where it went! Honestly, sometimes my card deck has a mind of its own.” He mused as he twirled the card in his hand.

His eyes traveled back to you. “Well since it got you here today, why not take a walk around town! I did say if we had free time we were going to show you around. Call it an encore if you will.”

You looked around you, noticing something amiss after he said that.

“ Is Miss Lynette not going to join today?”

Lyney shrugged as he slid the card back into his deck. “ Lynette had something urgent to take care of, So she can't join us today unfortunately. So it will probably just be little old me and you today.”

He was idly playing around with the deck before he made it disappear. “ Oh, you don’t need to be so formal! Just Lyney is fine.”

You hummed.

“Alright. So any places to recommend visiting?”

At this the magician sported a confident smile and walked ahead of you. “ I have a full day planned out, a surprise around every corner. I want your stay in Fontaine to be an unforgettable glimmering memory.”

He turned on his heel to face you and extended a hand to you.

“ Now if you’d allow me to be your escort, mon cher?”

You could do nothing but stare. You couldn’t come up with any words to say except stepping forward and taking his hand.

With a content smile, Lyney gently pulled you along. His gloved hand felt smooth where his fingers grazed your palm yet there was a distinctive tougher texture where the white detailing was sewn on. The people wandering the streets around you felt like the fizzling suds of a wave.

You felt your face becoming a bit warmer.

He really does have a flair for the theatrical doesn’t he?

Lyney had taken you everywhere, one exciting place following the next. But before anything, he invented you for a meal. It was noon and the complimentary breakfast from early morning wasn’t going to keep you going for the entire day. So you both stopped by a humble cafe. The food was absolutely delicious! The smell of toasty bread invaded your senses and the savory taste of garlic on your tongue made you smile with each bite .

You were perfectly content with the garlic bread but you curiously asked Lyney for any recommended dish for the main course.

His answer was; “ If you want my word, then I’d say try this dish right here!” He pointed to a warm soup bowl as he leaned himself over to you.

After lunch, Lyney brought you to see many sights and places. From the tall waterfalls that made up the borders of Fontaine, you could stare at it for hours. He had to subtly pull you away from the viewing point as you kept your eyes glued to the running water.

You took the Aquabus every so often to get around. You were looking out into the distance. The water seemed to stretch on for infinity, islands broke through the surface making the land seem like one big jigsaw puzzle.

While the ride dragged out, Lyney made quick conversation to pass the time.

“So, what brought you to Fontaine, hm? If my memory serves me right, you mentioned that you don’t get out much.” Lyney sat next to you with his legs crossed.

“ Yeah. I see travelers but I'm never the one traveling. My job is not something exciting like an adventurer or extravagant like an artist.”

You shift in your seat. You folded your arms onto your lap.

“ I’m just a shopkeep. So, you can already say that I live a perfectly mundane life” You chuckled a bit dryly.

Lyney was uncharacteristically quiet. He was paying his undivided attention to your words. You continued.

“With every passing day, I gradually realized that my life had possibly reached a stalemate. Every day felt like a repeat of yesterday. It was the same route, same building, same aisles, and same feelings.” You said. You couldn’t exactly remember when you began to feel like this. It was a thought that had crossed your mind one day. And ever since, it had stayed in the crevices like gunk you couldn’t wipe off.

“ So, I decided that I’m just going to throw myself out there into the world!” You spoke. You couldn’t really say exactly what your ideas were, but you described what you felt.

Comfort. Trapped. Empty. Jealous. Fear. Doubt. Excitement.

“ It may be reckless of me, but If I was never going to do it, I knew I would end up feeling regret for not having done anything about it. And even so, my boss was kind enough to grant me time off.”

You snickered. “ I’m probably just assuming, but I feel like they might have let me have this because they probably noticed something. Not to brag, but I was their best employee. Swooping in to save the day when my colleagues were out.”

You stretched your arms a bit, not having realized how still your body was the entire time. Once you were done it felt nice; it was as if your entire being took a fresh breath of relief.

“ So now I’m here. In Fontaine on an Aquabus with you.” You look up to see Lyney again. His eyes were soft and he had this understanding expression on his face.

Really, any expression he wore felt as if it were through a pair of rosy lenses. Perhaps it was the natural charm artists like him had. Maybe.

Besides,he could get away with just about anything because of his attractive face.

You shook your head away to look out into the Fontaine waters around and below.

“ Well, good on you [Name]! I hope your ventures have been nothing but amazing and brought you happiness! ” He finally spoke. He inhaled deeply before he sighed out. His gaze faced the bow of the aquabus.

“ Do you agree that birds create wonderful music for the ear to hear? Not to mention the splendor of colorful feathers and their ability to fly.”

“Due to their natural charm, they are sometimes kept as ‘decorations’, provided food and shelter so long as they continue to amuse the people.” He said, his tone shifted ever so slightly. It was barely noticeable, but there was a very micro edge to his word.

He crossed his arms, the brim of his hat covered the sun creating a little inkling of shadow cast over half his face blocking out the sunlight that might’ve stung his eyes.

“ But being kept in captivity for too long, it will yearn for the open skies. It’s only a matter of time before the initial luxury turns into a finite cage.” Lyney hummed. His words brought you an unexplainable comfort yet somehow it felt very out of character for him. You subtly shift your gaze to his face. His expression didn’t seem to be exaggerated. His features were calm like a still lake, unmoving. His eyes, although trained forward, seemed to be not fully there. A misty reflection had settled over his lilac irises.

The intermission lasted for a few beats of seconds. His mouth effortlessly shifts up into a cat-like grin. He turns his head back to you and straightens his posture, his signature tophat tips back slightly. His eyes conveyed excitement as the lilac once again seemed as vivid during his performance.

He was no longer a still freshwater lake, but instead a lively and winding river.

“Which is why you’ll get the best tour of Fontaine by yours truly! Mark my words when I said I’d leave you dazzled today, for I Lyney will see to it that you have nothing but laughs and smiles upon your lovely face, mon cher.~” He declared proudly.

You felt dazed. A warm bubbly feeling began to infest your chest. It was very much like when he placed a kiss to the back of your hand.

You smiled happily at his declaration. “Thank you for listening to me. And also..”

You couldn’t help the hot sensation over the apples of your cheeks or your muted heart rate from your ears. Yet you persisted, not breaking away your gaze from him.

“Thank you for being with me today.”

Lyney’s confident facade had faltered ever so slightly for that moment. But he recuperated and mirrored your expression.

“It’s no problem at all, [Name].”

This was nice. He was nice. Despite knowing him for a little while, it felt as if you’d known him for much longer.

However, you barely knew anything about him other than he had a twin sister who was coincidentally his assistant and that he was a popular performer in Fontaine.

It irked you a bit, but you wouldn’t voice this opinion out loud. It is as people said, once you learn the inner mechanism to a magic trick, the magic itself is lost and you're left to face the raw and sometimes cruel trick.

You wouldn’t question why he went quiet. You wouldn’t question if he himself felt similar. You wouldn’t question why his demeanor sometimes felt too whimsical to be true. You didn’t want to ruin the mood. And you didn’t want to linger on the thought any longer.

You both went to many shops, Lyney had insisted you try out anything that caught your fancy. And if you liked it, to get it! Of course you were on a travel budget, but you did end up purchasing two items.

Your favorite stop however was the Hat Boutique. Lyney had a rather interesting insight on what headwear would ‘shape a face better’.

“Hm, you could probably store triple the amount of props in this one.” He studied a scarlet red top hat that looked suspiciously similar to the one he owns. He then looked over to another hat sitting on a display. “But that one brings out my petite and charming face more.”

He turned to face you. “ Help me out here [Name], should I go with this one or that one?”

You looked between the two options, narrowing your eyes and looked closely at the detailings. You looked at Lyney’s face and imagined how he’d look with either on.

“If you want my opinion, why not go with this one.” You walked over to a particular Hat you saw as you were pursuing. It was a Fedora like hat in a rich dark violet color; it looked more like an inky black purple. It had a gray sash wrapped around it that shined slightly silver when the sun hit.

“ It looks nice, and the material feels smooth to the touch. The color brings out your eyes too.” You said as you held up the hat for him to look.

“Oh my, aren't you the charmer?” He smirked playfully.

You avert your eyes to the aisles of material and color, “ It’s just an astute observation is all.”

He took the hat off your hands and studied it. “ Color me impressed! You have quite the eye for fashion mon cherie.” He sent you a proud smile and his eyes glowed with pride.

You shook your head. “ I work full time at a small shop remember, so picking up on the interest of buyers is a skill I’ve gained. I wouldn’t say I’m a fashion expert.” You felt the corner of your lips twitch up into a little smile.

“Are you going to tell me what you mean by that?”

“What do I mean by what?” He repeated your question blinking owlishly

You pouted. You got the feeling he was doing it on purpose.

“The nickname? You refer to me by that sometimes. What does it mean?”

Lyney thought for two seconds before his mouth formed an o shape in realization. He gave you an innocent close eyed smile. “ That’s a secret~! But, I have faith you’ll figure out what it means on your own.”

You gasped and brought a hand to your heart. “ How do I know you're not calling me a mean name? What a cruel scheme to pull one over me like that!” You whisper yelled in an over the top voice of hurt.

His shoulders tensed. Lyney suddenly became the slightest bit flustered. He shook his head, “I-I would never! Honest! I can assure you it doesn’t mean anything like that.”

You let out a quiet snicker. You found it adorable really. He suddenly became embarrassed despite the brimming confidence he usually carries himself in.

After purchasing the hat, he decided to keep his signature cat still on but suggested making a stop by his house to leave the newly purchased hat.

“ It won’t be long I promise! It’s just that, I wouldn’t want it to get weathered by bringing it around with us today. You did end up choosing it and I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to it.” He reasoned.

It was a small but cute home. It was built in a typical style that the main city carried; geometric edges, a very advanced looking outdoor light, and a beautiful door with a stained window.

“Wait here okay! I promise I’ll be in and out before you can tell I left.” He quickly spoke as he jogged over to the front door. You couldn’t help but laugh a little as he sped off.

So you stood outside. You looked around, and spotted a potted plant.

CLANK TICK CLANK

The sharp sounds of metal and objects clashing made you sharply look at the direction it came from. You suddenly felt a bit confused.

The door swung open and you were expecting to see the charming magician. Instead it was a boy running out the door. He spotted you and suddenly skidded to a sudden stop.

“...”

He had a giant metal helmet next to him. He had ash blonde hair that almost covered the left side of his face. His apparel reminded you of a sailor.

He just stared at you and stepped back a bit. His form seemed slightly shrunken and he held his helmet thing closer to him. Not wanting wrong assumptions to be made you sent the boy the most casual smile you could.

“ Oh, don’t mind me! I’m just waiting on a friend, said he had to drop off something. He should be back any minute.”

The boy didn’t say anything, and just nodded. And he stood there. Unmoving.

Some glances at you and back to the floor.

He taps around his helmet.

Well this was awkward. Should you make small talk?

“Er, cool helmet. What is it for, if you don’t mind me asking?”

The boy nervously glanced at you from the corner of his eye. His eyes were a very vibrant blue color. He didn’t answer for a while. You purse your lips feeling bad. Maybe the silence was better.

“ving…” You barely heard it. You look over back to the boy.

“Diving..a diving helmet.” He spoke quietly. He didn’t make eye contact as his eyes were glued to the floor.

“Diving? As in underwater?” You spoke with some bubbling curiosity. Before the boy could react, the door opened again.

“ I am here! Haha, sorry. That may have taken a bit longer than I thought. I hope you didn’t get too bored while I was away.” Lyney announced himself. He no longer had the hat box with him and he scratched the nape of his neck.

He noticed the other blonde boy.

“Hm? Ah, Freminet! Where are you off to today?”

Oh, he knows him? You thought, glancing between the two.

“I was on my way to the beach.” The young man known as Freminet spoke. His voice sounded soft yet slightly raspy, perhaps he wasn’t used to talking much you figured.

Lyney approached you and eagerly motioned for you to join in the conversation.

“ [Name], allow me to introduce you to my little brother, Freminet. Freminet, this is my new friend [Name]. They were the ones to share the spotlight with me and Lynette during last evening’s show.” Lyney proudly chirped.

Freminet looked a lot less tense. “Oh, yeah. I remember. You rambled on about that show, saying how well they-”

Lyney coughed loudly. You look over at the magician with a raised eyebrow.

There on his pale face was the smallest smidgen of a rosy color. Freminet immediately hushed. But he had a small nervous smile on his face.

“ I’m sorry If I seemed quiet just now.” Fremeniet now said addressing you. “ I recognized you from your appearance, but I didn’t know what to talk about. Or If you would find me odd for knowing about you.”

You shook your head, understanding the full picture now made you feel a bit more reassured. “ Don’t worry about it, really. But, it’s nice to meet you, Freminet.”

You turned to face Lyney who looked a lot more relaxed. “ So you have two siblings? What a nice family you three are! There probably isn’t a shortage of banter or boredom then.”

Lyney chuckled. “ Well, I’m usually the one who does most of the talking. I’m the eldest so it's my duty.”

“Sometimes you take it a bit too far and become a blabber mouth.” A familiar voice suddenly joined the conversation. Looking about you were met with another familiar face.

“Hey Lynette.” You sent the twin a little friendly wave. She turned to you. Smiling a little and returning it, albeit more lazy.

“Really? You see me as a blabber mouth? But Lynette, I mustn't let the audience’s cheers and support fall on deaf ears. Especially that our friend [Name] here has been on a grand tour with me as their guide.” Lyney ground proudly as he placed both his hands on his hips.

“Whatever you say. But, you’ve been taking them on a tour? How come you didn’t invite me to tag along?” Lynette deadpanned.

Huh? You tilted your head in confusion and furrowed your brow. Didn’t Lyney mention earlier that his sister was busy. Lyney must have felt the obvious sudden awkward tension placed upon him as his shoulder tensed and he chuckled nervously.

“A-ah, b-but dear sister, you see since you were busy in the early time of today I didn’t wish to trouble you, so I took it upon myself to show them around. Hehe, please don’t be mad at me.” Lyney stuttered out all while looking at Lynette as he brought his hat closer to his chest.

Lynette sighed and shook her head before she turned to you with a laid back expression.

“ I hope he hasn’t caused you too much trouble, [Name]. He can go a little too far sometimes but that’s just Lyney being Lyney.”

“Hey! I’m right here you know.” Lyney whined sadly. Lynette didn’t bother to look at him and Freminet had turned his head to the side. His shoulder’s bounced and looked like he was suppressing a giggle.

“ It’s really okay. More than okay really. Lyney has been nothing but kind and patient with me. He is a good listener and always manages to make me smile and laugh!” You said happily.

Lynette’s deep violet eyes got slightly bigger with confusion and curiosity. Lyney stood beside you and took a quick glance at your direction. It was quiet for a moment. You suddenly became a bit nervous, was there something wrong you said?

Lyney laughed heartily as he threw an arm over your shoulders. “You see! Take it from them, that I never let my audience down!” You quickly glanced in his direction, not minding the close contact. You could see some red culminating around the tips of his ear and beneath his eyes.

“Well that's good to know.” Lynette crossed her arms.

“ We must get going, the daylight is short so we mustn't waste it idlying.” Lyney said. Before you two left Lyney sent his siblings goodbye. “Take care Lynette, remember to be on alert alright? And Freminet, remember to get back home before curfew! I was about to dive into the waters last time you had forgotten about time.”

“ Okay.”

“Of course.”

Lynette and Freminet replied in unison.

“ Looks like we’re on the move again. I hope to be able to spend time with you Lynette.” You said. You wanted to get to know this family better. Lynette was blunt and to the point but you could tell she cared about the people closest to her.

Lynette nodded and her lips curled up into a small but sincere smile. You turned to Freminet.

“ It was nice to meet you, Freminet. If we ever meet again, would you mind explaining diving to me? It sounds interesting.”

Freminet tensed slightly but managed to nod in agreement.

“ Bye Bye! Take care!”

After you two had left, Lynette turned to Fremeinet with a pensive look.

“ Freminet, do you think our older brother is perhaps getting attached to them?”

“ I don’t know. But, he really seems to like their company. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him being this flustered in the presence of someone else.”

Lynette hummed. “ I hope he knows what he’s attempting to get himself into. Out of all of us, he knows what kind of situation we’re in.”

Freminet was quiet as he fidgeted with the nails and guards on his helmet.

“ Do you think that [Name] would like Per?”

Lynette glanced at Freminet with an unreadable expression. She stood still and thought of last evening's performance.

“Did... Did you go into idle mode?”

“Yes.”

“Huh?”

“ I think [Name] would find Per cute.”

The rest of the day was spontaneous. From a walk by the sea shore, trying out pastries and free samples, Lyney explaining Fontaine history and technology.

It was now close to night time and you were both currently walking through the garden close to the Opera House. The road towards the Opera House was beautiful, ever since you first came here a day prior. You had almost ran late to the Magic show seeing as to how pretty it was. The carved marble statues, the beds of wildflowers beyond the decorative iron railing, and not to mention the fountains. Water was almost everywhere you’d look, it was a given as this was the nation of Hydro.

“Well, today was certainly a fun day.” You spoke softly. You looked up into the sky. It was the final rays of daylight and the sky was a beautiful swatch of evening gradience. All of the orange, blues and reds bled right into each other.

The water beyond mirrored the sky. The land was akin to a watercolor tray, a smokey mixture of cool and warm colors.

“Thankyou, again for taking time out of your day to guide me through the nation’s cities. You didn’t need to know?” You walked alongside Lyney who was too admiring the sky.

“Nonsense. I took you on this little journey because I wanted to. It was one of my prop cards that called to you, yes?” He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Yes but-”

“And you answered. You could have very well ignored it, even kept the card as a souvenir. But you didn’t. And that choice led you to today.” He spoke calmly.

You said nothing. Lyney was a stubborn man, no matter how many times you could protest against his kindness he would fire back with a reasonable explanation.

“ The card, how did you manage to put it into my sleeve?”

Lyney grinned like a bobcat. “ Uh uh my dear, a magician never reveals his trade secrets.” He mused teasingly.

“ Of course.” You sighed, giving up.

“Have you always had a talent in magic? In performing?”

Lyney finally turned his head to glance at you. Skipping ahead of you, he manages to turn his whole body towards you.

“ If you must know, It is a rags to riches tale!” He exclaimed as he bellowed out his arms dramatically in front of him.

“ As a young lad, me and Lynette were street performers. Everyday little crowds of people would congregate around us on the side of the street. Card tricks, Flower tricks, and even the feathered friends would aid in our little shows.” He exclaimed as he walked backwards.

“We would give it our all and Mora would rain down upon us.” He spoke with a triumphant smile on his face. He slowed down his pace and you managed to catch up. He was now walking next to you like before.

“ You could guess the rest. We eventually became so well renowned, we were able to afford high end venues and quality equipment for our shows. And soon we went from paupers to famed actors.”

You had listened carefully. Despite his colorful disposition, the underlying tone of his small backstory felt off.

“ I’m sorry you had to go through such tribulation. It must have been tough on the two of you early on.” You frowned. Although he framed the tale as a dramatic novel, the implication that he and lynette had been living in the streets tugged at your heart.

He did say when he was a lad, so this probably must have happened while they were both children. Where were their parents? The rest of their family? You decided to stave off these questions as they could be delicate.

Lyney had gone quiet for a moment. He smiled warmly at you. “ It’s alright. There is no need to feel sad for us. That is long in the past now. And besides…” He grinned widely. “ I think a smile would suit your lovely face more!”

He took off his hat and dug around it and pulled out a curious plant. It was a glowing blue color and its shape resembled a pearl. It shined a mixture of a translucent lilac and ocean blue.

He outstretched it out to you. You went ahead and tapped the leaves that looked like sea shells. The flower suddenly released some bubbles. The translucent orbs floated around you. You couldn’t help but pop a few, some giggles escaping you as you whirled around.

Lyney chuckled. “ I did promise you that I would keep that smile on your lips followed by the melody of your laughter.”

“ I-” You brought a hand up to your face. Your heart suddenly began to beat as if you had just ran a distance.

Why did his words have to feel so..so..like this? Why did it feel as if what he said was true? Would that explain why your heart feels like it would sprout wings and fly away any moment?

You were positive your face was burning up. You coughed into your hand.

“You did, didn't you? Thank you for the reminder.” You had managed to sputter out. You heard the soft chuckling of the magician. The flower was no wear to be seen, he must’ve vanished it away when you weren’t paying attention.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page, [Name].” He had a lopsided grin. Lyney was a cheeky man, a person with a silver tongue. He was a conman. And yet…

He managed to make you feel like you had a tornado of butterflies in your stomach all the time.

You were left speechless, as you both continued to walk down a few more minutes. You both made it to the Opera. In front of the opera was a bigger fountain, and a few pairs of people were collected around it.

You went up to the fountain, interested to see it up close. In the water collected at the bottom, you could make out a few glittering coins of Mora beneath the water. You heard a few steps up behind you and guess Lyney must’ve followed you.

“ People wish at this fountain, right? What for?” You looked around at the elegant structure. The reflected moonlight in the water gleamed against the little gold accents around its edges.

“ Fontainians come to this fountain to wish about anything, really. Better fortune, health, and happiness. But mostly, people come to this specific fountain for love or hopes for a healthy baby.” Lyney answered, his hands behind his back.

‘Hmm, the pairs of people make sense now.’ You thought as you glanced around the area. Satisfied you walk around the front of the Opera house. The fountains shooting water high into the air makes you wanna take a closer look. Leaning into the thin railing your eyes stayed glued to the water.

You could feel a ghost coolness of the falling mist from the tall fountain.

Although it was a fun outing today, you had ran around almost everywhere in the nation. Lyney in toe with you, making you ignore the aches you felt for doing so much in such a short time. Now in this still moment, all your tiredness was catching up to you.

Lyney must have noticed, as his lilac eyes flitted between your face and the fountain ahead.

“ Hey, want to see something cool?”

You turned your head over to the cheeky magician with a brow raised.

With your attention now on him, he took off his hat. You leaned more on your arm against the railing with a warm smile. Half expecting him to pull out something out of his hat again, he did something else. He shook it in front of him, emptying it out of nothing. Nothing left the hat.

Lyney hummed aloud. “Hmm, I was sure I had it stored in here.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Maybe you dropped it somewhere?”

“No no. I was sure It was in here.” He pouted as he now looked in, under and above his tophat. It was rather cute.

He eventually gave up and placed it back on his head. “ You might be right, maybe it slipped out while we were on the aqua-”

Just as he was about to finish, something dangled in front of his face. It moved from side to side, as if it was dusting off his face. Upon a closer look, It looked like a cat tail.

The look on Lyney’s face was endearing, his lilac eyes had dilated in surprise and followed the tail.

“Ah, there it is!” The hat suddenly lifted up his head, floating just above.

To your surprise, you see a smaller tophat along two little black ears pop out. Two little black bean paws followed, grabbing along the inner rim of Lyney’s hat.

Pop

“!!!”

You finally saw its face. It was a black cat with mismatched eyes of a droplet and star. It had a permanent toothy grin on its face. It wiggled in the hat and turned itself to look down at you.

“?!!”

You could make out the red bow behind its back. You weren’t sure what to do so you waved at the cat. It moved its small pudgy body around the hat and twitched its tiny ears.

“!!!”

Lyney let out a giggle at the interaction. “ Aww, I think he likes you.” He managed to grab his floating hat by the rim and brought it down in front of him. The cat in the hat seemed bothered and was now looking up at you. Its tiny hat was slightly tipped back.

“Can I pet it?” You asked almost too excitedly.

“Since you asked, of course! He is a bit mischievous but a glutton for attention.” He mused, side eyeing down on the cat.

You gingerly brough your hand down onto the cat. Its surface was surprisingly smooth yet soft, and the cat wiggled towards your touch. It’s two little ears ducked back as it seemed to love the attention it was given. It’s face never changed, however.

“ Does it have a name?” You asked as you kept petting it. Lyney nodded and smiled.

“ It’s a Grin-Malkin cat! I’m sure you're quite familiar with it, as it’s not only a prop for Lynette and I’s show, but our cute mascot.” He said.

“Prop?” You asked slightly confused. So it wasn’t alive? Then how did it move so life-like?

“ The Grin-Malkin cat is a puppet, but its movements are based off of a real cat.” He said.

You smiled, but kept petting the cute kitty. Even if it was just a puppet, the cat seemed to have a familiar personality. Its little paws stuck out, and one came up to ‘attack’ your finger. You quietly giggled at its playfulness.

“ So, cats are a part of your show’s soul huh?” You asked.

“ If it wasn’t that obvious, yes.” He said with a charming smile.

“ ‘Based on a real cat’, so who was the lucky cat this little bean was based on?” You asked curiously.

“ When Lynette and I were street performers, we managed to run into a lot of stray cats. Lynette was shy, so most of them got along with her.” He said as he looked down to Grin-Malkin.

“But, there was one troublesome cat. He kept on running off with my hat. Apparently, it made for a better cat bed than anything. He would be curled up inside when I found it.”

“ Eventually, I thought of replacing my old friend with a new hat. A hat that wouldn’t disappear when I didn’t tell it so. But, me and the cat came to a mutual agreement. I would bring him along to the show as a replica puppet!” He said with a proud smile. It slightly faltered however as he continued.

“During one particular performance, there was a little mishap that happened. I had forgotten a card in my deck and the trick required that one card that I misplaced.”

You winced at the second hand embarrassment. “Talk about bad luck. What did you do?” You asked. The kitty that you were petting now turned around to look up at Lyney. It looked interesting in his story. So now, it was you and the cat’s eyes on Lyney.

“Well, as I was coming up with an improvised outcome, out came this little guy.” He motioned down to the cat.

“!!!” It bounced slightly in the hat as the attention now was on it.

“ He had the card that I had misplaced and was able to save the show. And ultimately, make it better. The crowd and even I wasn’t expecting such an outcome.” He shook his head.

“Aww, so he became the star of the show.” You laughed.

“!!!” The cat whirled around to face you again and puffed out its chest in pride.

Lyney laughed alongside you. “ That’s one way to put it.”

Once you calmed down you noticed that you didn’t feel as tired anymore.

“ It looks like today is coming to a close.” Lyney said as he looked around. There were now very few people outside, and the sky had turned darker than earlier. The magician tapped the tiny tophat on the cat.

“Before today the curtains come to a close, let me send you off with a grand finale.” He whispered.

The Grin-Malkin cat wiggled its tail and his paw came up to the brim of its own hat. The cat tipped its tophat to you before Lyney grabbed his own and placed it back atop it’s hat.

“With your permission, could you close your eyes for me.” He said as he leaned in close to you, his hands behind his back.

“Okay?” You smiled nervously.

You shut your eyes and saw darkness. You could still hear the rushing of water and a faint sound of chirping crickets.

“Okay, no peeking until I tell you too.” You heard the magician.

You waited for what would happen. You felt someone get closer to you. The ghostly presence of someone close to your face. You refrained from moving, yet your heart began to pick up its pace.

You felt something warm touch your cheek, and something soft tickle your ear. At the same time you felt stiffer material tap against you above your head.

It came as quickly as it went, as you felt a small breeze and you could no longer feel the close presence.

“Okay, open your eyes now.” You heard Lyney say.

You opened and saw the magician in front of you with a warm smile.

“Do you feel anything different? Perhaps something is missing!” He said in a cheery tone.

Your hand reached up to where you felt something earlier.

“Huh?”

There was something behind your ear. Carefully, your fingers outstretched and touched something soft. It was a delicate circlet of petals connected to a smooth stem. Looking up from the corner of your eye, you spotted a blur of prisma like colors.

A blurb of pink and pastel yellow.

“ A rose? How?” You quietly questioned.

“Mhm!” Lyney nodded enthusiastically. “ That is a rainbow rose. A beautiful flower that grows wild only within Fontaine.”

“Ah, thank you! It’s really pretty and soft.” You delicately felt a petal. Beneath the bloom, there were smaller outstretched petals that pressed against your temple.

“ Have you found it yet? The thing I stole from you.” Lyney asked, tilting his head to the side.

You glanced back at him confused. You didn’t feel anything missing from you, as you checked your packets and around your person.

Lyney’s eyes followed your attempts to look for the missing something, slightly amused.

“Given up yet?”

You really couldn’t find anything off.

“ Is this a trick question, because I don’t feel like anything was taken.” You asked.

Lyney raised a closed hand next to his face. He smirked mischievously.

“How strange, because I have something of yours in the palm of my hand.” He teased me. “I’ll give you one more chance, could you guess what it is?”

You nodded. You guessed it was either a prop card or maybe some mora.

“ I give up, what is it?”

Lyney opened his palm and there was…

Nothing.

“Ta-da! The thing I stole from you was your attention.” He exclaimed with glee. He walked over to me and extended his hand over to me.

“Here you go, you can have it back now!”

…

This little-

You may have had the tiniest urge to smack his shoulder. Shaking off that urge, you huffed and played along. Once you reached his hand to get your ‘attention’ back, his finger’s gently encased your hand.

He bowed down dramatically and kissed the back of your palm.

Very discreetly, he cracked one eye open and glanced up at you. You had frozen in place and with a flustered face you could only stare.

He had the gall to smirk and send you a wink.

There was an odd sense of Dejavu, the memory of when you were approached by him after the magic show that evening.

“And it seems that…I have stolen your heart as well ma chérie.” Lyney whispered.

He gently let your hand fall back to your side as he stood back up. He had an innocent smile on his face.

You just stared at him completely dazed.

It was quiet for a very. Long. Second.

Lyney’s pale face slowly became redder and redder although he did not move.

The awkwardness was beginning to thicken and soon Lyney couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ahem…Ahaha hah haa... D-Did you get it? Because I had you focused on me the entire time so I stole your attention right under your nose. And now I just did a chivalrous act to make you feel flustered! I didn’t go too far again did I?” He muttered as he brought a hand to his mouth and averted his eyes.

His rambling snapped you out of your dazed phase and you suddenly became very aware as to how hot your face was. Lyney being in some sort of distress in front of you made you sputter out.

“Nononono, It’s fine! I was surprised, very surprised actually…er that was a nice trick there, very smart. So don’t worry about it.” You went ahead and leaned forward from the railing to look back at the fountain. Lyney might have gotten the message because he did the same.

After a few minutes of cooling down, you turned your head to look at Lyney and see if he was alright. His lilac eyes spotted you out of the corner, and he ducked under the brim of his hat.

“I think it’s getting late, I’ll take the Aquabus back to the main city.” You said, there was a small tight feeling in your chest. You were sad as to how fast the day went, how fast you had to say goodbye.

“Let me walk you back to the station then. It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly to let you walk back on your own this late.” Lyney offered, his voice sincere.

And so you did. The walk back was slightly quieter. Again, he became uncharacteristically quiet.

Was it because of what happened earlier? Did he feel like he did something wrong?

“You know I had fun today, right?” You began.

“It was very kind of you to take me on a tour around the city. I got to learn about the nation, eat good food, spoil myself with samples and sweets, and saw many hats I didn’t even know existed.” you slightly laughed. You heard him laughing quietly too.

“ I met your siblings, met your prop cat and I got to meet you in last evening's show.”

You might’ve never gone out today if you hadn’t met Lyney.

You might’ve never got to know his family if you hadn’t met Lyney.

You might’ve never gotten to meet Lyney like this if you weren’t picked to participate in the final act.

The more you thought about it, the more you became grateful that for some miracle of coincidence you were picked from the audience.

“I’m really happy that I met you. You made my time here in Fontaine feel magical. I’ll keep this day close to my heart, if that’s okay with you.” You smiled happily, the giddy feeling making you feel all sorts of floaty.

Lyney said nothing, only humming in approval.

Once you had gotten to the station, there was already a bus sitting there. The tour guide, or Melusine as you later found out, was sitting and leaning against the bus. Once it heard the sound of footsteps it sat up quickly, it’s tall ears snapping up.

“Ah! Oh, all aboard the bus! No wait, that’s not it..uh- everyone boarding please be careful with your arms, feet and legs inside the boat!” It spoke, half asleep.

You turn to Lyney. “ Are you going to go back to the main city?”

He shook his head.

“ No, I think I’m going to go back to the Opera house. I hate to be the naggy brother, but I just want to make sure Lynette didn’t forget any of the props backstage.”

“ Oh alright. I guess this is goodbye then.”

You had the urge to hug him. You weren’t sure how busy the Magician might be tomorrow, but somewhere in the back of your mind you believed you wouldn’t see him again for a while. The thought once again made your chest feel tight.

“ I believe so.” Lyney said quietly.

Well, no point in delaying your leave.

“Wha- HEY!” You heard Lyney yelp, and quickly you turn back to see what happened. His hat was off its what and seemed to zoom over to you.

The Grin-Malkin cat drove the Top hat like some dune buggy as now right side up was swirled with pyro elemental energy.

The grinning cat raced in the sky towards you, there wasn’t enough time to get out of the way so you braced for impact. But it never came.

The hat had swerved around you, drifting mid air as the cat kept facing you.

Suddenly the thing nudged itself into your face, the Grin-Malkin cat rubbing its pudgy dark body against you. You could almost hear purrs.

“ Hello, nice to see you again.” You giggled as its ears tickled your chin. Wrapping an arm around it you used the other to scratch above its head.

“!!!”

Lyney got closer and smiled nervously. “ I think he likes you too much. It never usually takes off on it’s own.”

He bent slightly down to be on the hat’s level and he put both his hands on his hip.

“Hey now! Come on, back up here alright?” he tried to sound like a scolding parent.

“!!!” The cat shook its tail in his face.

“I’m serious. C’mon, back on Lyney’s head” He pointed to his hat-less head of hair.

“!!!” The cat dug itself deeper into your embrace.

Lyney frowned. “ I know you like [Name], but they really have to go. It could be dangerous for them to be out in the streets this late. The sooner you let them go, the sooner they’ll go back safely.” He reasoned with a reassuring tone of voice.

The cat retracted itself from your hold and glanced down at Lyney. Having made up its mind the cat’s paws extended to you.

You tapped them both. “ Lyney’s right. I have to go. I’ll miss you too.” You leaned down and pressed a small peck on the robotic cat’s forehead.

It wiggled and a paw came up to its hat and brought it down in an attempt to hide its face. Although its features couldn’t exactly express, it looked to be shy.

Lyney had noticed and brought a hand up to his mouth to cover his snickers.

The cat then ducked into the hat, disappearing from view. You looked inside the hat and it was empty.

Grabbing it from in front of you, you flipped it right side up.

“Here, let me help.” You raised it above Lyney’s head. Slowly you set it down and secure it in its place. All the while doing it, Lyney had his soft lilac eyes on your face.

Fixing the hat a bit, you dusted off any dirt that may have gotten on it. “There we go! Now you look as sharp as you usually do.” You grinned.

You didn’t notice but when you smiled, especially at such close proximity, Lyney couldn’t stop the flush of color rising in his face.

You kept staring at his hat and his face as well to see if anything was out of place.

Without realizing your hands hover just above his arms. You weren’t sure if this was right. Maybe ... .Everything was going a step too far. Just as you were gonna reel back, Lyney raised his hands to hover right beneath your arms.

Without saying much but a nod, you hugged.

His cape felt soft, and his arms held you with care and protectiveness. You smiled as your face dug into his shoulder. You felt the hard material of the brim bump your temple.

He smelled like flowers and ash. An odd combination yet somewhat comforting.

For what felt like a full day, you two finally separated. He had a warm and sincere smile on his face.

Most of his smiles are bright grins that could light up a room.

But somehow after a while the spark is lost, and the smiles feel all the same. But this one, the one you saw before your eyes. No, this was different.

The kind of smile that was not rehearsed nor under scrutiny of the captive audience’s eye.

This one felt raw, special, authentic.

It made him look beautiful.

Realizing you were staring, you stepped back.

“ I….really think I need to go, or the Melusine will go back to sleep.” You turned on your heel and headed towards the boarding area. Before you left you took a big breath in. the cold air of the night and mist sending a current of energy through you.

As you were about to step on the bus, you heard him walk behind you.

“When will you be leaving?”

“What?”

“When will you be leaving? You said you were here on holiday, so when will you go back?” He asked.

You stopped and thought. When will I go back?

Go back.

Do I want to go back?

Can I go back after having a taste of what the world is outside of what I once knew?

“I leave in two days. Two days, yes.” You managed to say out almost in a flat voice.

“Why do you want to know?” You asked, you hadn;t turn your back to face him.

I want to see you again.

“ No reason in particular. I just thought you would be around to watch me and my sister perform in three days at the courts theater.” He said, there was a cheapness to his voice.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to go. I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, Sounds like it.” Lyney dejectedly said.

You step onto the bus and Melusine shoots up on it’s tiny feet.

“ Leaving Marcotte Station!” They yelled. You sat down on one of the benches. You didn;t have the heart to look at Lyney as the bus started to move along the river.

You did however outstretched your hand behind your ear. The rose was still there.

“ Ah, a rainbow rose? Oh oh! Did you have someone propose to you?” the Mesuline asked.

“Wh-What?! What do you mean by ‘propose?!’ ” You shrieked. The Melusine set comfy on top it’s little pedestal.

“Oopsie, I’m sorry you probably don’t know the rumored implications of that rose do you?” They asked, tilting their head as their ears flopped to the side.

You shook your head.

“Well, since you're my only passenger for tonight, I suppose it’s okay for me to add on to the guidelines. And I’m tired right now.” It yawned.

“ When someone gifts you a Rainbow Rose, much like the one on you, it usually symbolizes passion and romantic encounters. It’s very common for couples here to gift each other a single rainbow rose or a bouquet of a dozen roses as a way to express their devotion to one another.” The Melusine mused.

“Oh.”

“ But it’s also used to express platonic love for a dear friend or family. Flower gifting is a language that revolves around love no matter which kind.” It said happily.

It hummed a little tune, and the boat sailed along.

“ But for it to be placed behind the ear, someone may be interested in you. Romantically I mean, haha.”

Oh dear…you might realize what the nickname he gave you means now.

“Ah- AHCHOO!” You covered your face as you sneezed.

“ Bless you!” the Melusine said.

You sniffled. Maybe it was the cold.

Lyney had stood there watching the Aquabus get farther and farther away. He had his hat to his chest.

He quickly placed his hat back on his head and walked back to the garden path.

There was no one around. He was alone.

Had his siblings made it back home yet? Probably.

The steps of his boots bore a fast and rhythmic pattern as he stepped.

His lips were in a flat line. His mind was preoccupied on many things.

His sister, his brother, the rest of his siblings, “Father” and you.

You. He shook his head.

He had a blast today. Although he had known Fontaine all his life, he practically lived on the stone walkways for a good part of his life, he never saw it like he did today. It felt new to him, a wondrous view!

Like that of an innocent curious child. Something that he never thought he would experience ever in his life.

He snapped away the thought.

He made it past the fountain in front of the Opera House. Getting past the gates and the lonely lobby he made it into the audience area.

He had met you here.

From when he was looking for a willing participant, he spotted you amongst the sea of eager people.

He spotted you. You weren’t a local, perhaps a tourist. You intrigued him.

Foreigner’s often brought in the best source of intel. A web of secrets and truths hidden beneath the veil of illusions. The normal people and Magicians were similar in that aspect, despite the other living in ignorance.

He never would have expected you to complete the trick well. Oftentimes, stage fright took a hold of the non troupe assistance, some on the spot improv would be on set in case the trick went off the rails.

That is why Lyney wouldn’t often pick from the audience. It was a rare occasion.

He would seek you out. Get you into a sense of comfortability, his silver tongue had a way of making people profess their hearts out to him.

The world was a stage to him, and thus he must always perform his best. At least, that is what “Father” told him.

You didn’t have much useful information. He was hoping for something more scandalous or perhaps a secret you were ashamed of. Instead, you were just some person seeking out the world that you never had stepped foot in despite being born into it.

And yet.

Lyney sat down on one of the cushy seats of the audience area. He crossed on foot atop the other.

Why had he stayed with you today?

Perhaps he was afraid of seeing you upset if he left suddenly to shop for props he needed.

Maybe, he didn’t want to go back on his promise he made to you backstage.

Maybe, he didn’t want to see your angry face if you found out the initial reason he asked you out.

Lyney looked around, his eyes wandered to the stage. No one was performing. It was empty. The spotlight wasn’t shining down. It was devoid and completely useless to its intended purpose at the moment.

Lyney had purposefully left out key information when you had asked about his background in magic.

You didn’t need to know of the desperate times where he pushed through with a smile while the tummies of he and his sister gurgled for food.

You didn’t need to know the cruelty of Nobility and their disgusting greed and wicked selfishness.

You didn’t need to know about the House and the Fatui.

And you didn’t need to know about “Father”.

Lyney exhaled.

All of that would probably make you look down on him with disgust and fear. He much preferred to see a beautiful smile on you.

He didn’t need to see you again. You were useless to “Father”, to the grand scheme of he and his sibling’s mission. You would be a distraction, and distractions lead to silly avoidable mistakes.

Yes, that’s what “Father” would say to him.

And yet.

Lyney scrunched his face. He didn’t like feeling like this. He thought he was over this. After all, he had a home and a supportive family now. He shouldn't feel like this, he had his sister, little brother and the other younger ones to look after.

And yet he wanted to see you again.

You made him feel like he had freedom. It wasn’t like the one he was granted when he and Lynette were free from being street rats. And strangely enough, it wasn’t like the freedom “Father” granted him when she took him away from the cruel mansion.

He felt bliss with you. He felt like how the audience looked in the countless times he performed on stage.

Was that how it felt like to live normally? To live in bliss and ignore the world’s harsh reality, even for a few moments.

He used to stutter a lot as a young boy. Whenever his juvenile performances went wrong or a slip of the tongue in pronouncing large words.

Yet he seemed to awfully flustered around you a lot of the time.

He even gave you a Rainbow Rose of all things.

It’s what felt the most appropriate he thought.

“ Oh no..”

The realization hit him like a Mitachurl’s Axe.

“ Father is definitely going to kill me if she ever finds out about this. Lynette might as well.” He cried.

“ACHOO!”

“Ugh, I should’ve gotten out of the port sooner. I might come down with a cold.” He sniffled.

‘Maybe someone’s thinking of me.’ He thought.

Before you went into your room, you had asked the reception for a vase you could borrow. They immediately noticed the flower on you and gave you a sneaky glance. Ignoring them, you went and filled the vase with water.

Before going to bed you placed the rose in the vase, on your nightstand so when the morning came it would get sun.

The last thing you saw when you fell into slumber was the rose. The memory of that charming magician is still vivid in your mind.

Perhaps, you could delay your trip back home.

After all,

He did steal your heart and had yet to give it back.

A/N: CWNCWNCONCON I WAS KICKING MY FEET AND CRYING WHEN I WORTE SOME PARTS CBKEBCIB The Fonatine siblings have a choke hold on me fr. Fontaine water giving that same energy that 3 am cold crispy tap water- I'm now tempted to make a Lynette x F!Reader fluff were they have a nice little tea party and make paper flower arrangements like cottage core girlfriends Tags: @b0rninh3ll @yukiaei @xiaossocksniffer @nayumeas @scarletrosesposts @sol3chu @rionah @jar-03

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empress-simps · 8 months ago

Note

May I please request a fic with James and a tomboy!reader? She’s into sports (namely quidditch, ofc), doesn’t mind getting dirty. Typical tomboy-ish stuff lmao!!! I’m not sure how to describe it. Whatever house you think is fitting will be fine by me :)

Thanks for the request darling! I hope this is what you had in mind! I’m not quite confident on how I wrote the reader but I hope it’s alright, this is my understanding of your request🥹 Thank you!(I was listening to “Everybody Talks” by Neon Trees when writing this!)

Bruises and Broomsticks

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

CW: Implied Fem!Reader (uses she/her pronouns), Reader getting injured, Jealous James, and Language. (2.4k words)

James doesn’t know how it happened or when it happened.

He viewed you as a great friend- even going as far as calling you an honorary marauder. James had always seen you as one of the guys, someone who could take a joke and throw a punch. Your laughter was infectious, your loyalty unwavering, and your spirit indomitable. You were the one who would challenge him to a race on brooms, who would formulate the best strategies for capturing the snitch, and who never backed down from a dare as ridiculous as spray painting a random wall in Hogwarts.

Although, there were moments that caught him off guard—like the way the sun caught in your hair during a late afternoon practice, or how your eyes sparkled with mischief before helping them plan a prank. It was in those quiet, unguarded moments that James found himself drawn to you.

James thought it probably was the way you care and defend everyone close to you with everything you got, or how you don’t care what people thought of you. You were confident to be yourself. Whatever it was, he realized his feelings for you ran deeper than he had ever anticipated.

“Marls!” You called, running to her (almost tripping) as you entered the Gryffindor common room, sporting an ever-growing bruise on your cheek. Marlene smiled, but quickly frowned as she spotted the purple-green blob on your cheek. “Godric! What happened to your face, Y/n?!”

James quickly perked u as he heard your name, pulling him out of the conversation he’s having with Remus. He watches as you shrugged, “Dolohov was messing with me again earlier.” Sirius grinned, emerging from the portrait a second behind you. “She was a menace, I tell you!” The tall boy barks out a laugh, backing you up as a toothy grin appeared on your face.

Poor James, one of these days he’s bound to have a heart attack if he hears another news of you getting into a fight.

James watched one of his best mates throw an arm around your shoulders, hyping you up. His jaw clenched, trying to mask the growing pit of jealousy in his otherwise calm demeanor. He couldn’t help the flare of jealousy that sparked within him each time Sirius got too close, each time his laughter mingled with yours in a way that made James’s heart race for all the wrong reasons. He knew Sirius meant no harm, that your friendship with the marauder was just that—friendship. But as James’s eyes followed the casual way Sirius’s hand rested on your shoulder, he felt a possessive urge to sweep you away from everyone. He thinks he should be the one who’s on your side.

Remus tried his best not to laugh; he leans to Peter beside him, whispering “Looks like Prong’s about to burst a blood vessel,” his voice low, laced with amusement and humor as Peter looked up from his essay.

James shot Remus a warning glance, but it was softened by the half-smile that betrayed his true feelings. “Shut it, Moony,” he said, though his eyes never left you.

“What happened?” Peter asked, most students lounging in the common room looked at you, awaiting your reply.

You placed your hands in the pockets of your worn-out wide legged jeans. “I beat the shit out of that fucker.” You shrugged, a triumphant smirk on your features.

As the common room erupted with laughter at your bold proclamation, James couldn’t help but feel his heart swell with pride. There you were, fearless and fierce, and utterly oblivious to the way he hung on to your every word, to the way his world seemed to orbit around you.

And perhaps, he thought, that was exactly as it should be. For now.

Remus looks at him with a mirth present on his face. “You know, Prongs, one of these days you’ll have to accept that Y/n can handle herself,” he said, nudging James with a knowing smile. James, however, couldn’t shake off the concern he felt. “It’s not about her handling herself, Moony,” he muttered, his gaze still fixed on you. “It’s about her getting hurt.”

Oblivious to James’s inner turmoil, you continued your tale. “So, I was minding my business when Dolohov suddenly appeared and was uttering how a muggle born like me shouldn’t be walking around and tainting the wizarding world.” You started, “His wand was pointed right at me, probably about to hex me. You know what I did?” You paused for dramatic effect; your eyes twinkling. The common room was silent, everyone hanging on your every word. “I grabbed the nearest ink pot and chucked it right at his nose. Got him square in the face!” You laughed, the sound rich and carefree. Sirius joined in, slapping his knee in amusement. “It looked like a squid inked him in the face!” he adds, “This sod charmed the ink, so it’ll stay for a week!” Sirius pointed at you.

"Sirius and I were laughing so hard, he managed to hit me in the face—can you believe he forgot to even use magic? I got him back; pretty sure my converse left a mark on the side of his face.” You couldn't help but grin, recounting the tale. Marlene shook her head, her earlier concern now replaced with admiration. "That's my Y/n right there!" she said proudly, "Never one to back down from a fight."

As the laughter died down, you caught James’s eye. He was trying to look stern, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him, curving into a reluctant smile. “Just be careful, okay?” he said softly, a rare display of tenderness from him.

You nodded, your smirk softening into a genuine smile. “Always am, Potter.”

And with that, you turned on your heel, your maroon converse thudding against the wooden floor as you made your way to the dorms, leaving a trail of whispers and a certain besotted Marauder in your wake.

“Merlin, Prongs. You never told us to be careful, just to bugger off.” Peter complained, Eliciting a grin from Sirius. “Luck’s not on our side, wormy. James doesn’t fancy us.” James gave Sirius a look.

“Don’t even deny it, Prongsie. You thought I couldn’t see you practically hexing me when I was beside her?” Sirius snorts, sitting beside Remus and leaning onto the boy’s shoulder who wrapped an arm around him.

James couldn’t find it in himself to disagree, nor did he want to. It was the truth, and it was out there now. James realized that this was a turning point, not just in his relationship with you, but in his own life. He was in love, truly and deeply, and it was time to embrace that reality.

Stepping out into the field in your quidditch uniform, you can hear the screams and chants echoing in your ears, the noise never fails you to get riled up. The vibrant green of the grass seemed to pulse with the energy of the crowd, the sky was a clear blue, a perfect backdrop for the game ahead. Feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins, you gripped your broom tighter, an excited smile appearing on your face. You adjusted your goggles, the leather strap snug against your hair, and swung a leg over your broom.

James took in the sight of you, smiling softly. “Be safe, yeah?”

Shooting him a wink, you replied. “Aye aye, captain.”

The referee's whistle pierced the air, and with a powerful kick, you were airborne. The wind whipped past you, tangling your hair as you soared higher. Below, the field became a patchwork of colors, the players mere specks in a sea of movement. You were in your element, the broom an extension of your body as you weaved through the air seamlessly, air resistance got nothing on you.

The Quidditch match was in full swing, the stands filled with cheers and the sky a blur of players on brooms. You were a force to be reckoned with, dodging Bludgers and racing after the Quaffle with unmatched skill. But in a split second, everything changed. A rogue Bludger, charmed by Dolohov's dark magic, veered off course and struck you with a sickening crack that seemed to echo throughout the pitch.

The game halted as screams and shocked whispers echoed through the pitch. James, who saw the entire thing happen in front of him, stopped dead in his tracks. His heart plummeted and felt his body go cold as he watched you fall, your body limp and vulnerable. Without a second thought, he dove, catching you just before you hit the ground.

“What in Merlin’s name is going on?! Gryffindor’s quidditch star L/n has just been knocked off her broom!” The announcer sputters, also shocked at the event.

In the aftermath of the rogue Bludger's strike, James's instincts took over. With Y/n cradled in his arms, he flew to the ground, the rest of the world a blur. The screams from the stands faded into the background as he focused solely on you. Nothing else mattered, you were his priority. Damn that stupid match, he needs to make sure you’re okay.

"Y/n, can you hear me?" James's voice was steady, but his eyes were wide with pure unadulterated fear. He gently laid you on the grass, brushing away a strand of hair from your face.

Sirius landed next to James, “Prongs, what happened? How’s Y/n?” His voice was laced with worry, checking you for any possible injuries. Your other teammates shot each other worried glances; the match has been called off.

Madam Pomfrey rushed onto the field, her medical bag in hand. “Make way, students!” She yells, but James was hesitant to move away. "She’s going to be okay," the matron assured him, James looked in Madame Pomfrey’s eyes, trying but failing to know if she meant what she said. Other players and the audiences have been ushered out of the field.

James nodded, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from Y/n's still face. "I've got you," he whispered, more to himself than to her. "I won't let anything happen to you." Sirius gently pulls him away. “C’mon Prongs, let’s leave Madam Pomfrey to do her magic, yeah?”

The fear that gripped him was real, and it brought a clarity he'd never felt before. He loves you, and he needs you to be okay because Merlin forbid- he wouldn’t know what he’ll do if you aren’t.

He stayed close to you, not letting you out of his sight. Miraculously, Y/n stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She was hurt, but she was alive- that was enough for James for now. “Alright, love. We’ll get you to the Hospital Wing, just hang on.”

Your mind was hazy, you could make out two forms of people whom you guessed was James and Sirius. You groaned, the events earlier somehow getting clearer. “Fucking… Dolohov… I’ll get him back…” You muttered, sleep and exhaustion got the best of you.

As consciousness slowly crept back, your eyelids fluttered open, revealing the blurry outlines of the hospital wing. The ceiling came into focus, and a wave of relief washed over you. Well, you were glad you can still get revenge on that Slytherin wanker.

Turning your head, your gaze fell upon James. He was slumped in a chair beside your bed, his glasses askew, and his hair more tousled than usual. It was clear he hadn't moved from that spot since you’d been brought in.

"James?" Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, making you cringe.

His head snapped up, his eyes wide with a mix of hope and fear. "Y/n? Oh, Merlin, you're awake," he breathed out, a smile breaking through his exhaustion. “That I am, have you been here this entire time?’ You asked, leaning to his direction to fix his glasses, effectively making him blush.

James' pursed his lips, trying hard not to show his hands that were slightly trembling as he clasped them together, trying to gather his thoughts. The sight of you lying there, injured, and vulnerable, had shaken him to the core. "I was terrified," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "When I saw you fall during the game, my heart just... stopped."

You felt your heart fill with warmth, he moved closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "It made me realize how fragile everything is, how quickly things can change," he continued, his voice growing stronger with each word. "And it made me realize that I couldn't waste another moment hiding the truth from you.”

He takes a deep breath, reaching for your hand. His gaze earnest and unwavering, "I fancy you, and not just in some passing way. You mean everything to me, and the thought of losing you, of not having the chance to tell you how I feel... it's unbearable."

He paused, searching your face for any sign of how you were taking his words. "I don't want to wait for another scare to be honest with you. I want to be there for you, to protect you, and to be someone you can rely on. If you'll let me."

The room was filled with a tense silence as James awaited your response, his confession hanging between you like a delicate thread, ready to weave a new beginning or unravel at the slightest touch.

“Is this your way of saying you’re in love with me, Potter?” You smiled, which prompted James to roll his eyes playfully.

“I’m being serious, darling.” His thumb softly caressed the back of your hand, "I love you too, pothead. You’re an idiot for not saying it sooner." You laughed, teasing the boy beside you but your fingers curled into his, holding on just as firmly.

“I am your idiot, darling.” he replied, a soft chuckle escaping him as he leaned forward, his forehead resting gently against yours.

Looking into his eyes, you can see the rawness of emotion he feels, you know everything he had said was genuine. It was a look that cannot be put into words. In that moment, everything that had happened on the Quidditch pitch, every fear and confession, seemed to solidify into something undeniable.

Neither of you needed to speak; your hands entwined with James speak volumes. You gave his hand a weak squeeze, a silent promise that you were there, you were with him, and you weren’t going anywhere.

#james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james x reader #james potter fluff #marauders fanfiction #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders era #harry potter #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #peter pettigrew

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