#Single mother and the Bachelor | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

softspiderling · 3 months ago

Text

est-ce que je t’aime? | j.v

summary:

“What does dear Jace have to say?”

“I do not like your tone,” you huffed, snatching the letter out of his hands. Daeron chuckled, his eyes gleaming.

“You could become my niece, if this continues.”

“Oh please,” you answered, not even entertaining the idea. “I am too low of a rank for him to even consider marrying me.”

OR; After having spent almost eight namedays in Oldtown, you longed for your return to King’s Landing, to see Jace again. When the day finally comes, you didn’t expect to be thrust in the middle of a war for the crown.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader, platonic!daeron targaryen x reader

warnings: mention of death (Viserys), canonical violence (follows plot of the show up to Storm’s End), otherwise this part is pretty tame!

word count: 8,2k

author’s note: i do not know a single thing about daeron except for the tidbits we have learned in the show. the rest is made up (but imo my Daeron character analysis is pretty great finally my bachelor's in english has proven useful). this is gonna be a two parter! the first part is heavily reader x daeron/team green focused, while the second part will focus on reader’s and jace’s relationship. title is from GIMS' song est-ce que tu m'aimes which also inspired this fic... also @eldrith bc i fear i will be threatened with a gun if i dont... happy reading 🫶🏼

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“I have a letter from the Queen Alicent and and another one from the Prince Jacaerys Velaryon,” the messenger said, bowing as he stood at the door.

“Thank you Ser.”

Taking the letters, the messenger bowed to take his leave, and you handed Daeron the letter from his mother before settling into your chaise with Jace’s letter.

This was how you and Daeron received news from King’s Landing and Dragonstone. You hated how you had to wait so long to hear news, longing for the time all of you were at King’s Landing together, but you knew that things hadn’t been working out with Rhaenyra and her family nor with Alicent and her children.

You thought that was the main reason Daeron had been sent to Oldtown, to shield him from the tumultuous life at court and you along with him, despite that you had been Helaena’s lady in waiting.

Smiling at the contents of the letter, you tried to imagine Jace’s voice as he told you of Luke taking flight with Arrax for the first time, failing miserably. It had only been two years since you saw him last, but you knew how boys matured quickly in a short span of time, Daeron being the perfect example.

He had only come up to your shoulders when you first arrived in Oldtown, now, he was almost as tall as you.

“Helaena and Aegon were married,” Daeron suddenly said and your hands stilled, lowering Jace’s letter.

You glanced at him, noticing how small his voice sounded. Putting the letter away, you clasped Daeron’s arm, offering some comfort. You knew how hard it was for him to be away from his family and hearing about important news like that through letter just made the distance seem even greater.

“To whom?”

“To each other.”

“What?”

“Look,” Daeron said, handing you the letter his mother had sent him with the official sigil of the Targaryen house. You read through the letter, before sitting back with a surprised sigh.

“Helaena must be devastated,” you muttered, rubbing the side of your temples. You couldn’t imagine how alone Helaena must feel, to be married off to Aegon. He had always been a little crude; you doubted he had changed much.

“I cannot believe mother did not even deem it necessary to bring me home for their wedding,” Daeron said with a frown. “Am I even still her son?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you chastised him. “Your mother sent you away for your own good.”

Even as you said those words, you didn’t quite believe them yourself. It had been so long since Daeron has seen his family, you understood sending him away in the first place, but going for so long without a single visit?

With a sigh, Daeron brushed his silver hair back, angling towards Jace’s letter you had left on the table.

“What does dear Jace have to say?”

“I do not like your tone,” you huffed, snatching the letter out of his hands. Daeron chuckled, his eyes gleaming.

“You could become my niece, if this continues.”

“Oh please,” you answered, not even entertaining the idea. “I am too low of a rank for him to even consider marrying me.”

“So you have thought about marrying my nephew?”

You groaned and Daeron only cackled when you shoved him.

“Go sit and write to your mother,” you told him with a sniff of your nose and even though he grimaced at you, he sat down at the wooden desk, grabbing a roll of parchment. Even though Daeron was of much higher rank than you, he had adopted you as some sort of older sister ever since you two got to Oldtown, with you being the only familiar person from home that was still present in his life, apart from his uncles, of course.

It pained you, to see Daeron long for his family, who seemed to have discarded him so easily. You wondered when he would get to his family again as you reached for Jace’s letter to keep on reading;You wondered when you would get to see Jace again.

It was six more years before either of that would happen. However under much different circumstances than either of you had imagined.

“Urgent news from King’s Landing!” the messenger said, his breath short as he handed Lord Ormund a roll of parchment. You and Daeron glanced at each other; you were in the middle of breaking fast, the most important meal of the day in Oldtown; it must be incredible important news for the messenger to disrupt the meal like that. His face was stony as he read the contents of the letter, before his eyebrows raised in surprise. He lowered the letter, his eyes finding Daeron.

“Your father has passed. They are to crown your brother Aegon to be King. You are expected back in King’s Landing.” Lord Ormund’s eyes found you. “Both of you.”

It didn’t take long for Daeron and you get everything ready for your departure, you barely noticed most of your belongings being packed up, still reeling from the news. You couldn’t believe King Viserys had died. Of course you had known from the letters that Daeron had received from his mother that the king had taken quite ill, but still. And he named Aegon as his new heir? You couldn’t imagine Aegon, the boy who teased his brother endlessly to become King of the Seven Realms, but who were you to judge?

Your hand was itching to write to Jace, despite your last letter still being unanswered. You weren’t sure what had changed, but lately you felt like Jace’s letters had become scarce, every answer taking longer than the last. You weren’t quite bold enough to ask why in a letter, fearing a rejection, but maybe when you saw him, you could gauge his mood. You knew you were to see him at King Viserys’ funeral or the latest at Aegon’s coronation, you would see him sooner than your letter would take to get to him. Despite knowing that, your eyes caught on parchment and quill, so you took leave to Daeron’s chamber to distract yourself.

The door to his chambers stood open as you stepped in, the maids moving in a flurry as they packed his belongings, while Daeron was sitting on his bed, unmoving. Gingerly, you moved to sit behind him, but he barely acknowledged your presence, gazing out of the window.

“I’m sorry about your father’s passing,” you told him, nudging him with your shoulder.

“I have been living without a father for quite some time,” he replied wryly, glancing at you. “I suppose it will not feel any different.”

You reached for his hand, squeezing it, hoping to lend him comfort. “I know. But still, I wish he had been a better father to you.”

Daeron only snorted, shaking his head.

“Are you nervous to see your kin again?”

The young Prince let out a laugh, unwinding his hand from your grip to stand.

“Kin? I haven’t seen them in nearly ten years,” he scoffed, starting to pace. “Mother writes to me once in a moon, Helaena’s letters are more confusing than not, and Aegon and Aemond barely write to me on my name day. I have not seen them since my eighth name day.”

“They are still your kin, Daeron.”

“By blood, yes.”

“Is there any other way to be kin?”

You were humoring him, knowing he was frustrated and nervous to see his family but Daeron stopped in his tracks, looking at you.

“Yes. You.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise and he took his seat next to you again, cradling your hand in his.

“You came with me to Oldtown when you did not have to, gave me a sense of familiarity in this… Farce of a home, lent me comfort in a way my own blood failed to do,” he said quietly, squeezing your hand. “You are my sister in everything but blood.”

“Oh Daeron,” you sighed, pulling him into a hug and letting the younger boy - despite him arguing that he was long a man - find comfort in your arms. Ten and six, and the burden of feeling like you were abandoned by your family. You wished he did not have to feel this way, but you were powerless to change it.

“Swear to me you will not abandon me once we get back to King’s Landing,” Daeron said, pulling away to hold you at an arm’s length, his eyes searching yours.

“I swear it,” you told him, a smile on your face. “Swear to me you will not say any of this to your mother.”

Daeron let out a laugh at that, but you only shook your head, only half-jesting. You know Otto Hightower would fall right to his grave if he had heard Daeron call you his sister. You were high-born, yes, but in no way comparable to a Princess.

A knock sounded on the door, before a squire entered. “Everything has been prepared for your departure my Prince.”

“Very well, we will be right out,” Daeron answered with a nod.

The squire bowed, before leaving again and you squeezed Daeron’s hand, standing.

“I will go fetch my belongings, you go bid farewell to your uncles.”

Daeron nodded, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders. “I will meet you outside the city walls.”

You touched his cheek gently before you departed. A knight and two maids followed you with bags of sustenance and personal belongings to the city walls, where a handful of dragonkeepers were eyeing the sky. Lifting your gaze, you saw Tessarion fly over the city in circles, a smile growing on your face, excited to be making the trip back to King’s Landing on dragonback.

You had always loved whenever Daeron took you out flying on Tessarion; deep within you wished to feel a bond as special as a dragonrider had with their dragon. You wondered if Jace would take you flying on Vermax, now that all of you were reconvening for the King’s funeral rite and Aegon’s coronation.

Tessarion let out a screech before coming to land on the small green meadow, and you knew Daeron must be close. Surely enough, you heard footsteps coming closer before Daeron stopped just next to you, knights accompanying him.

“Will you miss Oldtown?” You asked him, but Daeron only shook his head.

“Nothing keeping me here,” he answered, stepping forward to greet Tessarion as she landed, calming her as the knights and maids attached the satchels and bags to the saddle. You let out a deep breath, turning to look at Oldtown for one last time. While Daeron had been right, a part of you was sad to leave, as it had been the place you had called home for the last years.

“Are you sure this is King’s Landing?”

The journey to King’s Landing had been uneventful and quick, a half day’s journey only. When you had arrived, flying over the city, Daeron directed Tessarion into the dragon pit, where the dragonkeepers had been waiting. Maids had then taken you into the Red Keep, and you barely had any time to react as you looked at the adornments that decorated castle; countless dedications to the Seven. The busy Keep you had remembered had now been replaced with empty halls and dark walls.

Daeron glanced at you before looking around. “Surely mother’s doing.”

The maid led you into empty chambers, bowing to Daeron.

“The Queen Dowager will be with you shortly, my Prince.”

Daeron thanked her and she inclined her head at him before turning to you.

“My Lady, if you follow me.”

“Where are you taking her?” Daeron, his hand on your arm to stop you from leaving. The maid paused, glancing between the two of you.

“To her chambers, my Prince.”

“She will stay with me.”

“Daeron, you should see your mother by yourself, I can come see you after,” you assured him but Daeron merely shook his head, his grip on your arm tightening.

“I shall not meet my mother alone.”

“Daeron-“

“Please,” Daeron begged, his voice panicked and you sighed, giving in. Only then did Daeron release the grip on your arm.

The maid still paused but she then decided to retreat, but not without bowing to Daeron again. He started pacing in the room, picking up the small trinkets that littered the desk.

“They just put me in my old chambers thinking it will be like I never left.”

You raised your eyebrows, glancing around before you realized that Daeron was right - you were standing in his old chambers. They had replaced the furniture and added a bigger bed, but it was the same chambers he had stayed in when he was a little boy.

“They have always kept a place for you to return, is that not a good thing?”

Daeron looked at you with a frown when the doors suddenly opened and Alicent stepped in, in tow with Daeron’s siblings and his grandsire, Otto. Alicent beamed at the sight of her youngest son, though her smile wavered when she saw you, before turning her eyes back to Daeron, opening her arms.

“My boy.”

“Mother,” Daeron replied, his voice hesitant before he fell into her arms, hugging him tightly.

Your heart warmed at the sight and Daeron seemed to lose all of the fears he had been carrying - if only for a split second - as he laid in his mother’s arms. You were content to stay back, let Daeron get reacq with his family again, but you weren’t ignored for long, when someone threw their arms around you with so much momentum, it nearly knocked you off your feet.

“Oh Gods,” you laughed, a head of silver hair in your face. “Helaena.”

“I missed you,” the Princess whispered and you hugged her back just as tightly, sighing. She gave you one last squeeze, before Helaena pulled away to muster you, running her hands through the ends of your hair.

“You look well,” she said. “Very beautiful.”

You flushed at her kind words, lacing her hands with yours. “So are you, my Princess.”

Helaena smiled brightly at you. “You must meet Jahaera and Jahaerys.”

“There is time for that later,” Alicent decided, cutting in. Helaena’s smile dropped slightly and she fled to your side as her mother stepped to you. You bowed your head to greet her, but Alicent grabbed you by the shoulders before pulling you into a hug, surprising you.

“Thank you,” she said quietly in the privacy of the embrace. “Thank you for watching over Daeron when I was unable to.”

You wrapped your arms around Alicent. “Of course my Queen.”

She pulled away, straightening her dress and you caught a glimpse of Otto talking to Daeron before Aegon and Aemond stepped into your view.

“My Princes,” you said, bowing. “My condolences for your father.”

“Thank you,” Aemond said. “He was in great pain, The Stranger freed him.”

His voice was monotone, almost void of emotion and you wondered if any of them mourned their father. Aegon nodded, though he seemed more subdued.

“Are you excited to be King, my Prince?” you asked, hoping to change the topic.

He gave you a wry smile, opening his mouth but Aemond gave him a subtle jab in the side with his elbow.

“Uh, yes, of course, my Lady,” Aegon said, clearing his throat. “Now that we have all reconvened, the coronation cannot come soon enough. You are a much better guest than our nephews.”

That made you pause.

“Jace and Luke were here?” You asked, your forehead creasing.

“Yes. Lord Vaemond challenged Luke as heir for Driftmark and the trial was held at court. They left just shortly before father passed,” Aemond told you, his voice even. You hadn’t known that.

“When are they expected to return?”

Alicent exchanged looks with Otto, silent conversation passing between them and you glanced at Daeron, who seemed just as confused. Something was going on, something you weren’t aware of.

“They are not,” Alicent then said and your lips parted in surprise. “Rhaenyra is upset, rightfully so, that her father had chosen Aegon as his heir, so she decided to remain on Dragonstone.”

Your eyebrows furrowed but you decided not to press the matter, only nodding. The topic was quickly brushed off as Alicent wrapped her arm around Daeron, trying to draw him into conversation, asking about his interests. You only listened half-heartedly, your mind still spinning from the news.

“Do you not think all of this odd?” you asked, your voice low. “I know Rhaenyra is proud, but refusing to show up to the coronation or even pay respects to her late father?”

It was the day after your arrival in King’s Landing, the day of the coronation. The day was hectic, the Keep suddenly bustling with servants and maids getting everything ready; you had taken the advantage to sneak into Daeron’s room, something that had gotten much more difficult ever since you got back to King’s Landing.

“Maybe thing’s have changed,” Daeron replied, rubbing his temple. “We have been away for a while, we do not know of the things that have transpired.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but a knock on the door interrupted you, a maid coming to fetch you for the coronation was about to begin. As you walked to the carriage, you were arguing with yourself on the inside, knowing that you were privy of most details, thanks to Jace’s letters. You couldn’t believe Rhaenyra wouldn’t rush to King’s Landing to bid farewell to her father. There must be something else holding her back.

As you got to the Dragonpit where the coronation was held, you were surprised that it was over faster than you had imagined, almost like it was rushed. Then again, this was your first coronation so who were you to say this wasn’t how every coronation went? As Aegon raised his hand to the small folk, eliciting applause, you joined in. The applause ceded when a loud growl shook the entire building. Silence followed, before the floor gave away when a dragon emerged through the stone, countless people falling to their death, trampled by the the huge beast with Princess Rhaenys on top.

Meleys, you thought, stood before the family, and Alicent rushed towards Aegon to shield him, cries and pleads from the smallfolk surrounding you. Criston shielded Helaena, and you grasped Daron’s hand as he only stared at his cousin in shock.

With bated breath, everyone waited - to be burnt, eaten, you weren’t sure. But Meleys only let out a deafening roar, before flapping her wings, breaking through the doors to escape to freedom.

“What in the Seven Hells was that?” you muttered to Daeron. He gave you a shrug, squeezing your hand as he looked you over, making sure you were unharmed.

The small folk on the other hand were fighting to get out of the building, which seemed to be crumbling in on itself, and Criston began to usher everyone out.

You were the last to come down from the stairs, taking Daeron’s hand he was offering to you when a crunching sound from above made you lift your head, seeing a large part of the roof cave in, falling right down heading straight for you.

“Sister!”

Daeron gave a harsh tug of your arm, pulling you behind him, as the large slab of stone fell right in the place you were standing mere moments ago.

“Are you well?” He asked, his voice full of concern as he padded you down.

“I’m fine, Daeron.”

“Daeron.”

You both looked up when Alicent called for him, just to see that they were all staring at you, Otto seeming incredibly displeased as you realized what Daeron had just called you. Seven Hells, you thought, this was precisely what you had been trying to avoid.

“Do you even realize what sort of rumors would be spread if anyone had heard you refer to her as “sister”?!”

You were pacing in front of the study, voices muffled through the wooden door. After you had gotten back to the Keep, Helaena and Aegon had returned to their children, while Otto and Alicent had dragged Daeron into the study. Neither of them sounded particularly happy, their raised voices spilling out of the room. You were wringing your hands, something that you had been doing a lot since you got to King’s Landing. Not even three nights ago, you were in Oldtown wondering if you were ever to return to King’s Landing, now you were back and everything was happening so fast and you felt like you were missing a big part of the story. When did the King change his mind about his heir? Why wouldn’t Rhaenyra and Daemon return to King’s Landing following the King’s death? And why in the Seven Hells did Rhaenys break through the floor with Meleys like she was being held captive? You had so many questions, none of which you had answer to; deep in thoughts, you didn’t even notice someone approaching you.

“Eavesdropping, are we?”

Letting out a small gasp, you jumped to face Aemond, a hand on your chest as he eyed you, unimpressed.

“Gods, you scared me,” you said, shaking your head. “No, I am waiting on Daeron. Your mother and grandsire didn’t want me to come in.”

Clearly.

Aemond didn’t say anything else as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest. You eyed him as he stood there, on guard. It was hard to gauge him; you felt like Aemond was waiting for you to make a mistake so he had a reason to get rid of you. You remembered the soft, warm boy he used to be when you first got to King’s Landing. You wondered when he had changed, if it was when Luke took his eye or before.

“I should have known Daeron would cling to you after you had gone to Oldtown with him,” he said, his voice slow. “What is it, that you are planning to do with him? Make him infatuated with you so you can insinuate yourself into our family?”

Your ears grew hot at his implication. How dare he abandon his brother for nearly all his life and accuse you of having improper thoughts?

“Daeron is like a brother to me,” you said, voice indignant. “I care about him and I mislike being accused of such a horrible things.”

“So you vow your loyalty to our family, to Aegon as King?”

The way Aemond phrased the question made it seem like you had a choice and you hesitated, the fight leaving you.

“Of course, he’s the rightful heir, is he not?”

Aemond only gave a nod, taking a step back. You narrowed your eyebrows at him, but the door opened and Daeron stepped out, his face in a scowl.

“What happened?” you asked, but he only gave a brief shake of his head. He inclined his head, and you followed him, a knight on your trail, while Aemond stayed behind. The two of you walked for a while, until you reached the gardens, the knight staying by the edge as you and Daeron took a seat on a bench. He still seemed agitated, so you placed your hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

“They accused me of impropriety,” Daeron muttered. “Said that I was opening our family up for vulnerabilities and rumors.”

“We’re not in Oldtown anymore, Daeron, everything you do here is looked upon,” you sighed.

“What is improper about calling you my sister? You have been by my side since my eighth name day,” he argued. “How can I call a woman my mother when I haven’t seen her since I was a boy? The strangers brothers and sister, when I barely recognize them?” Daeron hissed, his voice rising.

“I know you’re upset,” you said quietly, eyes darting around, not wanting him to get in even more trouble. “It’s hard for them to understand. They are not trying to hurt you.”

“Did they not try to hurt me when they cast me out of the family?”

You sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder, and Daeron let out a shaky breath, staring out in the distance.

“How is my brother faring?”

You shut the door to Daron’s chambers quietly to find Aemond waiting just in front. After you had spent the rest of the afternoon in the gardens, you had thought it best if Daeron laid down for a while before supper, hoping it would calm him.

“It’s hard for him to find his footing here. His life in Oldtown hasn’t been this… Restrictive. It will take him time to adjust.”

Aemond nodded, letting out a sigh.

“I was hoping he would accompany me,” he said. “But I do not think he sounds well enough to go.”

“Where are you going?”

“Storm’s End. To get Lord Borros to vow for my brother.”

What?

“Forgive me but who else would he be loyal to?”

Aemond turned around, looking at you in disdain.

“Rhaenyra. She might think she still has some claim on the throne.”

He paused, eyeing you carefully.

“You should come.”

“Me?”

Aemond’s eye swept over you once more and he nodded.

“Yes, it will look good to Lord Borros if someone outside of our family is there showing support to Aegon,” he insisted. “It will be a short flight on Vhagar.”

“Very well,” you said, a glance on Daron’s closed door, wondering if you should tell him that you would be gone, but it sounded like the trip to Storm’s End wouldn’t be long, so you decided against waking him. You could tell him after.

You followed Aemond to the dragonpit, where a maid laid a cloak around your shoulders as you watched Aemond mount Vhagar, the breath stocking in your throat at the size of his dragon. Vhagar was large and old, barely able to turn in the dragon pit without brushing the cave.

“Come,” Aemond said, offering his hand to you before pulling you into the saddle, instructing you to hold on tightly.

“Soves, Vhagar!”

With a loud growl, Vhagar stepped out of the dragon pit before taking to the skies, her enormous wings stretching out several feet. The ride on Vhagar was much smoother than every ride you had ever taken on Tessarion, and it wasn’t long before you reached Storm’s End, dark clouds following you. Vhagar landed in the courtyard, you and Aemond climbing off.

“Just in time,” the Baratheon knight said, watching the rain pour from the skies just as you stepped under the roof.

“I am Prince Aemond Targaryen, brother of King Aegon II,” Aemond said, fixing his doublet. “I am here to talk to Lord Borros.”

The knight lead him into the Round Hall, where Lord Borros sat on his seat, seemingly having expected Aemond, his four daughters standing idly next to him.

“Prince Aemond, what can I do for you?”

“Lord Borros, I am here to ask you to pledge loyalty to my brother, King Aegon II.”

“King Aegon, you say,” Lord Borros said, arrogance dripping from his voice. “And what do you offer me for my loyalty?”

You were taken aback by his words, but Aemond only smiled, his hands locked behind his back.

“Your four daughters… They are still unwed?”

A smile spread on Lord Borros’ face and he gestured to his four daughters with his arm.

“Indeed. Are you proposing a betrothal?”

Aemond inclined his head. “Not only am I free to marry, but my younger brother, Prince Daeron as well. His lady companion can attest to his formidable character.”

Your eyes widened at Aemond’s words and you glanced at him, anger welling up inside you. So this was why he had wanted you to come. Aemond paid you no mind and you exhaled deeply, turning to face Lord Borros again, putting up a faux smile.

“Excellent, excellent,” Lord Borros said, clapping his hands. “Let us discuss-“

“My Lord!” A knight called, striding into the hall with quick steps. “Another dragon has been sighted, headed straight to Storm’s End.”

“Ah, that must be my nephew,” Aemond replied easily, your heart skipping a beat. Were you finally going to see Jace again? Lord Borros gestured to the side, and Aemond placed his hand to your lower back to push you along; you fought your urge to slap his hand away from you, eyes darting over to the door.

The heavy rain was still pelting outside, nearly drowning out the sound of the steps as a young boy entered.

“Prince Lucerys Velaryon,” the knight announced. “Son of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

Luke, you thought, looking at the young Prince, now old enough to be delivering messages. The last time you saw him, he was round faced, his dark locks curling around his angelic face. Seeing him lessened the fire in your chest, though you were still angry at this whole situation, and you threw Aemond a look. He didn’t seem like he was paying any attention anyhow, his focus on his nephew who came further into the hall.

Luke’s step faltered when he saw Aemond, before his eyes laid on you. You tried to give him a comforting smile, show him you were a friendly face in a crowd of hostiles, knowing Luke was about to be met with a rejection, but he quickly glanced away, facing Lord Borros.

“Lord Borros...” Luke started. “I brought you a message from my mother... the Queen.”

“Yet earlier this day, I received an envoy from the King,” Lord Borros drawled, his tone less warm. “Which is it? King, or Queen? The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it.”

Lord Borros chuckled in amusement and you could tell Luke was nervous by the way he was shifting on his feet. Aemond seemed to enjoy all of it.

“What’s your mother’s message?”

Luke held out the parchment roll and the a knight fetched it, bringing it to Lord Borros, which he readily accepted, asking for the maester. As the maester quietly recounted the content of the message to Lord Borros, Luke glanced to you and Aemond numerous times, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. Your eyebrows creased, but the corners of Aemond’s mouth tugged up.

“Remind me of my father’s oath?” Lord Borros spoke, the message seemingly upsetting him greatly. “King Aegon at least came with an offer: My swords and banners for a marriage pact. If I do as your mother bids… Which one of my daughters will you wed, boy?”

Luke hesitated. You pressed your lips together; he had probably expected less of a hostile welcoming. Lord Borros only scoffed at Luke’s silence.

“Go home, pup,” he sneered. “Tell your mother that the Lord of Storm’s End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes.”

Luke inclined his head, disappointed at the rejection.

“I shall take your answer to the Queen; my Lord.”

Luke turned to leave, but Aemond stepped forward, calling out to him.

“Wait, my Lord Strong.”

You glanced at Aemond, letting out a soft breath, nerves pooling in your stomach. Luke turned, despite the blatant insult.

“Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”

Your hand reached out to grasp Aemond, but he slipped out of your grips as he stepped closer to his nephew.

“I will not fight you. I came as messenger, not a warrior.”

“A fight would be little challenge,” Aemond said. “No. I want you to put out your eye.”

He took off his eyepatch and you pressed your lips together, eyes darting between uncle and nephew, knowing this was about to escalate terribly.

“As payment for mine. One will serve,” Aemond added, throwing a dagger in Luke’s direction. “I would not blind you.”

Luke stared at Aemond in shock, his lips parted.

“Plan to make it a gift of it to my mother.”

Luke’s eyes dropped to the dagger on the floor, before he lifted his head. “No.”

“Then you are craven as well as a traitor.”

“Not here,” Lord Borros said, but no one paid him any attention.

“Give me your eye!” Aemond yelled, descending upon Luke, grabbing the dagger from the floor, while Luke stepped back, reaching for his sword. “Or I will take it, bastard.”

“Aemond!” you shouted, panic evident in your voice.

“Not in my hall!” Lord Borros cut in, his voice raised and Aemond stopped, turning back to look at him. “The boy came as an envoy. I’ll not have blood shed beneath my roof. Take Prince Lucerys back to his dragon. Now.”

Luke resheathed his sword, throwing one last look at you before he turned, hurrying out of the hall. Aemond let out a huff of frustration, throwing a dirty look at Lord Borros, exiting the hall without waiting for you.

“Aemond, wait,” you called after him, hurrying to keep up with his long strides. “You’re not thinking about following him on Vhagar in this horrible storm, are you?”

“He cannot get away with it, not again.”

Aemond’s voice was angry and you let out a breath, trying to keep a clear head.

“This is a thing from the past!” you reminded him. “Did you not gain a dragon from it?”

“You were not present when he took my eye!” Aemond hissed, taking a turn before you had reached the courtyard, just in time to see Luke on Arrax, flying out of Storm’s End. It was raining so heavily, you could barely see him, dark rain clouds swallowing Arrax and his rider easily.

Aemond was already walking towards Vhagar, the rain soaking, as you stayed put under the roof, hesitant.

“Are you coming, or staying?” Aemond shouted, climbing on top of Vhagar. You could feel the anger rolling off of him, something that Vhagar no doubtedly was feeling as well with the way she was growling and you wanted him to stay, calm down, but you knew it was no use, so you exhaled deeply, lowering your head.

“I am coming.”

You took his outstretched hand and he pulled you into the saddle behind him; you had barely settled in before Vhagar already leapt up in the sky.

The rain felt like small icy daggers in your face as you ascended higher and higher to the sky, easily catching up to the smaller dragon carrying Luke. Vhagar let out a roar, snapping her jaws at Arrax, as the smaller dragon breathed fire in your direction. It was clear that Arrax was no match for Vhagar.

“Aemond stop!”

Your voice barely carried over the rain, but Aemond disregarded you, his Vhagar as she darted to the left. You tightened your hold on Aemond, nerves coursing through you.

“What is it you’re trying to achieve, Aemond? You yelled, shaking him. “Are you trying to kill him?”

“That boy needs to learn how to fear me,” he only replied, tightening his reins on Vhagar, the distance between you and Arrax growing.

Aemond let out a frustrated growl, urging Vhagar to fly faster and you could feel the adrenaline rising as you almost caught up to Arrax again. You knew you were at a cross roads, and what would happen next would change everything, with Aemond consumed by his anger, and Vhagar following his emotions, someone was bound to get hurt. You had to do something. So as Vhagar descended upon Arrax, her jaws opening, you let go of Aemond, leaping off of Vhagar, almost immediately regretting it as Aemond yelled out your name, before you landed on Arrax, the wind being knocked out of your chest.

The young dragon let out a screech, dropping several feet down with the sudden added weight, just barely escaping Vhagar’s jaws.

“What are you doing?!” Luke screamed, the rain pelting against his face as he held onto his saddle tightly, Arrax roaring.

“Saving your life!”

You scrambled to find anything to hold onto, trying not to fall a gruesome death, your hands gripping onto Luke’s shoulders.

Vhagar’s shadow disappeared, but you knew her and Aemond were lurking inbetween the stormy clouds, you had to act fast. Your eyes were straining against the heavy rain, hand gripping into Luke’s shoulders.

“Do you trust me?”

“Not particularly, no!”

You grumbled, knowing his feelings were warranted, but this was not the time.

“We’re vulnerable. We need to find a spot to lay low, where Vhagar cannot come in.”

“Arrax is faster, I just need to get back home. It’s not that far!” Luke yelled back and you shook your head, even though he couldn’t even see you.

“That’s what Aemond is counting on! Please Luke, I know you don’t trust me, but I am trying to keep both of us alive.”

Luke groaned in frustration before tightening his reins on Arrax.

“Ilagon, Arrax!” Luke instructed. “Īlon jorrāelagon naejot jurnegon syt ruaragon.” Down, Arrax. We need to search for cover.

Arrax roared before you dropped several feet, flying by a range of mountains. You squinted your eyes trying to see anything in the rain, when you saw a cave several feet down.

The opening was small, too small for Vhagar to get in, but large enough for Arrax.

“Luke,” you said, squeezing his shoulder and pointing to the cave. “Down there.”

Luke nodded, leaning down to guide Arrax into the cave, and soon enough, the both of you were back on solid ground.

Arrax whined and Luke whispered to him gently, stroking his snout. “Lykiri, Arrax,” he said, leaning his head against his dragon’s. “Īlon jāhor jikagon lenton aderī, syt sir, ziry iksos daor ȳgha. Lykiri, issa valonqar.” Calm down, Arrax. We will go home soon, for now, it’s not safe. Calm down, my boy.

Arrax let out a soft whine, before curling in on himself, letting out a puff of smoke. With slumped shoulders, Luke sat down against the cave wall. You took off your cloak, laying it down so it could dry off before you sat down next to Luke, even as the boy avoided eye contact with you.

For a while, the two of you sat in silence with the occasional huff of Arrax, listening to the storm raging on outside. You hoped Aemond would cease his need for revenge soon. As a particularly loud thunder sounded, Luke jumped and you glanced at him, your heart aching.

“Are you well?”

Luke glanced over to you, trying to hide his tense shoulder by tightening his wet cloak around himself.

“No. But I’m unharmed,” he replied, his lips unmistakably shivering.

“It is better when you take off wet clothes, otherwise it might make you sick,” you said, leaning over to him to help unfasten his cloak, but Luke flinched away at your touch and your hands froze midair.

“I am sorry,” you said, breath bated. He must still be shaken, after seeing The Stranger right in the eyes. Luke let out a small breath, his fingers tightening in the fabric of his cloak.

“Did you know my uncle came to Storm’s End to kill me?” Luke asked, his voice small. “Did you come to make me lower my guards?”

“Forgive me?”

You knew their family affairs were difficult, strained from what had happened in the past, but you were stunned that he would expect this from Aemond, or you.

“I cannot speak of Aemond’s intentions,” you said truthfully. “Only of mine. I never wanted to harm you, and I did my best to keep you safe as soon as I realized that Aemond was too blinded by his need for revenge…”

Luke sniffed, wiping his cheeks and you moved to sit down in front of him.

“I’m only here to help you,” you assured him, holding your hands up in defense. “Arrax would turn me to ashes if I even touch you the wrong way, right?”

Arrax let out a soft growl at that and Luke gave you a small smile, nodding.

“Yes he would.”

“See, you’re in no danger,” you told him, your hand slowly reaching for his cloak, careful, as to not spook him. “Now take off your cloak and lay it down, it will dry off faster this way.”

Luke nodded, unfastening his cloak and laying it down next to yours before he took a seat beside you. Even though he had grown considerably in the years you had not seen him, he still was the little cheeky boy you remembered from before you had left King’s Landing.

“You have grown into a fine young Prince,” you told him. “I almost did not recognize you when you walked into Lord Borros’ hall.”

Luke quirked a smile at you, ducking his head. “I’m almost as tall as Jace now. He despises it.”

You grinned, pulling your legs close. You could imagine Jace just all too well, squinting at the mirror standing next to Luke.

“How is Jace?” you asked, your chest tight. You couldn’t believe how it was mere moon’s turns ago where you were exchanging letters, wondering why his replies seemed to become rarer.

Luke let out a small sigh, like it was a question that plagued him.

“Jace is… Angry. Ever since my uncle usurped the throne he has been trying to take action, fight for my mother’s claim.”

Your forehead creased.

Usurp?

“Pardon… Are you saying Aegon is not the rightful heir to King Viserys?”

Luke stared at you, mouth agape. “… Yes. He stole my mother’s inheritance.”

You only blinked at him, letting the news sink in as you leaned back against the wall, stumped.

“Now everything is falling into place… Why Aemond was questioning my loyalties, Rhaenys! Gods!” You covered your face with your hands, a gasp escaping your lips. “Daeron. I’ve left Daeron at King’s Landing without telling him that I’ve gone.”

You didn’t want to imagine what story Aemond has spun to make you a villain, to draw Daeron on his side.

“I’m sure all will be well,” Luke assured you, patting your hand consolingly. You only nodded, even though you were making up the worst scenarios in your head. Luke gave you a small smile, turning his hand when a yawn overtook him; Arrax had long curled up, his snores filling the cave.

“You should get some rest,” you told him, glancing over to the entrance of the cave where it was still pouring rain. “It might be a while before the rain ceases. I will wake you, when it is safe to leave.”

Luke semed hesitant, but then gave in, settling back against the wall, closing his eyes. As he slept, you noticed how he looked even younger, too young to be thrust into a war like this. Was this the fate that would meet Daeron, Helaena or even Joffrey? The thought unsettled you.

Time passed for a while, and it seemed like the clouds would never pass, but surely enough, the rain lessened, before stopping completely.

Gently, you shook Luke awake, feeling bad for waking him, but you knew he’d want to go home as soon as possible.

“Luke, the rain has stopped,” you told him, waiting for him to blink at you sleepily before you got to your feet, collecting your cloaks off of the ground. You handed Luke his cloak, fastening your own around your shoulders.

“It should be safe now. Aemond must be long gone.”

Luke nodded, glancing at Arrax and then back at you, hesitating, and you knew what he was thinking. You had been thinking it ever since you got to the cave.

“It is alright, Luke. Arrax is too small to carry us both all the way to Dragonstone. Go.”

You tried to be brave, giving Luke a smile but your voice was shaking, whether it was from fear or cold, you weren’t sure. You were a high born lady, you were in no way capable of fending for yourself. Luke leaving you here would mean a certain death, but he didn’t need to know that. Luke looked at you with big eyes, saying nothing before he walked over to Arrax, whispering to him as he stroked his dragon’s neck gently.

You let out a small breath, taking another look around the cave, resigning yourself to your fate when Luke called your name.

“Come, we need to leave before the weather turns again.”

“Luke, no,” you argued but Luke shook his head.

“You saved me. I am not leaving you behind. I would never forgive myself, and neither would Jace,” Luke said, and you let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head. “Arrax can carry us both, it is not much longer until Dragonstone.”

You ducked your head, a smile on your lips. Rhaenyra really raised amazing children.

“Very well.”

The two of you squeezed into the saddle on top of Arrax, who let out a small huff as he walked to the entrance of the cave.

“Mēre mōrī kipagon gō īlon issi lenton, issa valonquar,” Luke said to Arrax, gently caressing his neck. “Soves.” One more flight until we’re home, my boy.

Arrax leapt into the air, letting out a screech before stretching his wings, making his way home. As you flew through the skies, your eyes darted around constantly, looking for any sign of Vhagar, but it seemed like the coast was clear. Soon enough, you could see the outline of Dragonstone, and just in time; as you had noticed Arrax growing tired the more you lost on altitude.

“Īlon issi bē konīr, Arrax. Sepār mirrī tolī.” We are almost there, Arrax. Just a bit more.

Luke’s voice was gentle as he spoke to Arrax, despite his nerves. You nearly sighed in relief when Arrax flew towards the small opening to the dragon mount, and you thanked all the Gods when both you and Luke climbed off of Arrax onto solid ground again.

“Prince Lucerys!”

A knight came hurrying into the dragon pit, his eyes flickering to you before turning his attention back to Luke.

“Her Grace has been awaiting your arrival.”

Luke nodded, watching Arrax climb into the depths of the cave to get some much needed rest before he turned to the knight. “Take us to my mother.”

The knight bowed, leading you and Luke into the Keep, stopping in the doorway. Rhaenyra was pacing in front of the fire, her face worried. You hadn’t seen her for so long, but she looked almost exactly the same.

“Prince Lucerys, your Grace.”

Rhaenyra ceased her pacing, looking up and the relief was obvious on her face as she ran toward her son.

“Luke!”

“Mother!”

Rhaenyra threw her arms around her son, embracing him tightly and your breath stocked in your throat as you stayed back. You couldn’t believe how everything could have played out so differently if you had not intervened.

Rhaenyra pulled away, cupping Lucerys’ face with her hands.

“What happened?”

“Aemond and Vhagar were already at Storm’s End when I arrived. Lord Borros refused to stand by his oath… When I left Aemond followed me on Vhagar; if she hadn’t intervened…”

Lucerys paused and Rhaenyra glanced over to you; you, who had stayed behind to give them privacy.

You bowed your head, mostly out of respect but also because you had no idea what to do.

“You’re Helaena’s lady in waiting,” Rhaenyra said.

“I was. I have spent my last eight name days in Oldtown with Daeron.”

Rhaenyra gave you a small, grateful smile, but before either of you could continue your talks, shouts interrupted you.

“Mother! Luke!”

You turned around just to see Jace storming into the hall, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. Your heart stopped in your chest as you saw him again for the first time in so many years, relief washing over his face as he saw his brother stand with his mother unharmed. Then his eyes laid on you, and you gave him a shy smile. Jace only blinked at you, eyeing you from head to toe before his eyes widened; and for a second, you thought he’d be happy to see you. Instead, his forehead creased and his mouth curled downwards.

“What are you doing here?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: omg the drama...what are we thinking??

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jace x reader #jacaerys x reader #jace x you #jacaerys x you #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon fic #jacaerys velaryon #house of the dragon #hotd

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onmyyan · 6 months ago

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Ain't no sunshine

A/N: neglected reader x yandere batfam part one if y'all like this I'll continue it feedback always welcome 🤗 part 2

Your mother always spoke so fondly of your father, this certain warmth fell over her whenever you asked about him, as if he was the great love of her life, but even at your young age, you could also sense the heavy air of sadness around her whenever you brought him up.

As a child, your curiosity about the man seemed to be never-ending, it didn't help that your mom talked about him, about how you'd meet him someday. She inadvertently set you up, instilling you with this unfortunate expectation of him being just as excited to meet you as you were him.

Having the city's most famous bachelor as a father felt like some weird dirty secret. Seeing him on TV with his adopted kids- how happy they looked filled you with such a profound sense of longing, a feeling you were far too young to understand. TV was the only reason you could even put a face to a name, he was constantly in the news. Your childlike curiosity and fondness for the man soured with each view of him wrapped around some model or cutting some stupid ribbon where the crowd around him applauds every time he so much as shifts.

Your mother never badmouthed him despite the way he so clearly abandoned her, she had this fantasy where he'd come walking in the door declaring his undying love, over the years you learned to simply smile and nod, you knew it was a delusion.

She never allowed herself to move on, it was something you'd forever hold against the man. He'd ruined your mom in a way she was incapable of recovering from and that alone had Bruce on your bad side long before the unfortunate day you were dropped in his life.

The woman loved and raised you as best she could but a single mother forced to support herself through her pregnancy, could only do so much. In truth, you'd been forced to grow up long before you were dumped at Wayne's doorstep. Your sweet mother had been caught in the criminal underbelly of Gotham, something that seemed to happen to many good people in this town, she turned to unsavory means to provide for you and it caught up with her quickly.

She worked double shifts so most days you had to walk home alone, thankfully the local scumbags of your neighborhood had a soft spot for the woman and in turn, you. Despite how dangerous and crime-riddled your neighborhood was, you never felt afraid walking home, not until the day the firetrucks went screaming past you, something about them had your stomach sinking, your little feet pumping faster towards your home, you smelled the smoke before you saw it, and you'll never forget the sight, how dark it made the already grey Gotham skies, how horribly loud the sirens were, the way your neighbor picked you up, shielding your eyes as he pushes you into his chest. You can still remember the heat from the flames as they consumed your small home. You stood unmoving, unblinking as the roaring fire destroyed everything you'd ever known.

To make matters worse, Jim Gordon, the chief of police happened to be the cop on call, and because of that he inevitably noticed something in your eyes, something in your face so strikingly familiar, that despite this being your first meeting, he could feel in his gut he knew you. It bothers him so much that he follows his hunch and does a blood test the second they get you to the station, his theory is confirmed when your DNA comes back matching the Playboy of Gotham City

Jim tries to comfort you but he knows you'll never be the same after losing your mother. He takes you straight to Bruce's door hoping your Father could help soothe the unimaginable hurt you were going through.

Bruce had no idea how to deal with you. In his defense, you happened to come into his life broken, needing guidance and parental love, at the worst possible time, the same day you're plopped at his feet is the same there's a massive breakout at Arkham, the casualties are already in the fifties, not to mention how high that number would jump the longer he left his more worrisome foes out.

In this mess of emotional turmoil, the last thing Bruce needed was a kid plopped in his lap, but it's what he gets. He was seconds from suiting up when Jim dropped you off.

With some half-assed excuse, you don't even really register, Bruce ushers you inside by the wrist only to drop you off with Alfred, he bolts to the batmobile in an effort to not waste any more of his time, knowing he could be saving lives.

He swore to himself once he fixed this problem, he'd give you his full attention, after all, he knew exactly what you were feeling right now, all the confusion and guilt, the anger and despair, he knew he was the one to comfort you, who'd be able to give you the support you needed.

The thing is, problems in Gotham are never truly quite fixed, are they?

Alfred doesn't know anything about your situation other than that you were Bruce's daughter, he can tell you're traumatized by the glossy look in your big eyes, how you limply held his hand as he showed you to the kitchen, he treats you kindly, speaking softly and getting you settled in your too big room in your too big bed, it felt so bare, so empty, it made that hollow feeling in your chest deeper.

This is the first of many nights you cry yourself to sleep.

The next day Bruce officially introduces himself, sitting across from you at a large table, the distance feeling three miles long. You numbly eat, taking small bites, not truly hungry, but you didn't want to hurt the nice Butler's feelings after hearing he made every elegant dish before you. You're still quiet and don't look happy to be here but you respond when Bruce asks you questions, wanting to be cooperative, because, despite the hellish situation, you need a parent right now.

He can only offer you this brief moment of connection before he's called away, Batman's job was never truly over after all. He gives you a stiff pat on your shoulder before leaving, it's the most he's touched you since you've come here.

At that moment, swallowing how uncomfortable you were in your new situation, you stop him with a gentle tug to his arm, eyes teary and wet, your young mind needed the comfort of a trusted adult, needed someone to look at you with a warm smile and tell you it was all going to be okay, but you can't ask for it... The words dry and shrivel on your tongue, so instead you simply stare at him, eyes full of a mix of emotions, silently pleading for him to stay, to hold you, anything, other than walk away.

But he doesn't, what he does is give you that perfect T.V. smile, the one you grew up seeing him give at charity galas and somehow it felt warmer through the screen, he removes your hand gently, "I'm sorry (Y/n), I really have to go, if you need anything at all Alfred can help you out okay? I'll be home soon." The smile he sends you doesn't reach his eyes as he rushes to exit, this is the first time your father breaks your heart.

The second time he breaks it is when he introduces you to some of the rest of his family. Dick Grayson needed no introduction as his adoption into the Wayne family had been heavily televised, his face was the one you were most familiar with, despite this, it was still odd to meet someone you'd grown up watching on your old little television with envy in your (e/c) eyes, the feeling of otherness was only amplified as you walked into the manor's dining room on what looked like a sweet familial lunch, the dark-haired man opens his mouth to greet you but is cut off by Bruce's stern voice, "(Y/n),

The third time Bruce breaks your heart is when Damian arrives, he shows up a good year after you, by now your were closest to Alfred, you'd made a habit of texting Dick and Barbara updates on Bruce and the homes state, considering they didn't live at the manner like Tim, and only ever rarely received texts back from Barbara.

The moment you meet your younger brother you can sense the difference between the two of you instantly. He looks like Bruce, standing tall despite being shorter than you, he turned his nose up at you as Bruce introduces him. Dick is there too, which makes things worse because of the visible effort he's putting into Damian.

You do your best to try to befriend him at first, offering to show him around the large manner to which he scoffs. Like you've offended him with your question.

"As if I need a nobody like you to show me around my home." He never hid his feelings of disdain, often and frequently letting you know just how inferior to him he thought you were, granted at this point Damian thinks this about most people, but it still felt like a knife twisted in your gut each time he ruthlessly rejects you.

It doesn't help that Bruce seems so eager to spend time with him, how they're always together when you had to fight him to spare you five minutes, they bonded so fast, it made your insecurities bubble over each time they scurry off together in a rush, you once grew brave enough to ask them if you can join but the second the request leaves your lips, Bruce is shutting it down.

"I'm sorry, I have business at the office I need Damian for, next time." Bruce says as they leave, his smile just as empty as his promise, the smug look Damian gives you feels like gravel and dirt being smeared into your carved open flesh.

You try to talk to Dick whenever he comes around, one afternoon, the rain is so heavy in Gotham you decide to stay home, a small voice inside you cruelly reminds you it was also a cheap ploy for some kind of attention from Bruce, by the afternoon you figure the school has alerted him of your absence, deciding to face whatever consequences awaited you, you go downstairs, subconsciously keeping your footfall light, a nervous habit you picked up after Damian said you shook the whole house when you walked.

You overhear him talking with Dick in the kitchen when you tiptoe down the stairs, you were quiet, so quiet they don't hear you, "How's the case going?" There was always this audible warmth in Bruce's tone whenever he spoke to Dick, "Fine, I got a lead I'm pretty confident with, gonna-" He stops talking as you step on a creaky floorboard. "My department is pretty confident that is." You round the steps with a small smile, but only Dick returns it.

"Hello, how've you been?" you'd ask earnestly, "Good thanks!" he'd say, but that would be it, the friendly man was never mean to you per se, he just had this terrible habit of forgetting you. You kept to yourself a lot, seeing you so rarely it felt hard not to forget when he had so much going on, not only in Bludhaven but Bruce had been calling him to Gotham more and more to help deal with Damian, he had his hands full, not to mention the sudden rise of crime in Gotham.

Barbara likes you, she really does, but being Oracle took up every moment of her free time, she was a focused woman and people in this town always needed her help. She had a room in the manner dedicated to her vigilante work, the villains were getting bolder and more frequent in their attacks and Bruce needed her help constantly. And it wasn't just him calling on her skills, everyone was constantly asking her for things because they knew she could get them, that's just how she was, everyone but you.

Whenever she was in the manner working, you were always the one to tell her dinner was done or remind her to drink water, and bring her coffee when she hadn't left her office all day, you were reaching out in a way that didn't overwhelm her, like you could see she was stressed, but she was like a horse with blinders on.

Tim meets you while he's still neck deep in his search for revenge against captain boomerang, which unfortunately means he's short-tempered and stuck in a permanent work mode, he's cross with his close family, so it's no surprise he's even quicker to anger with you, you're intentions are as pure as can be, you see him awake late into the night, his bedroom door open, and say genuinely, "It's so late Tim, maybe you should try to get some sleep-"

"Maybe you shouldn't stick your nose where it doesn't belong?" He snaps back without so much as looking away from his screen, he was already on edge, defensive as Bruce had been nagging him all day not to overwork himself, he says this with pure venom, so much irritation and malice it makes your bottom lip wobble, he doesn't see the way you flinch at his anger, the way you sink into yourself.

It seemed like each time you tried to reach out to them, to bridge the obvious gap between you, it just made things worse. His comment hit you like a bus, only furthering the nasty idea that had been gnawing at you since you'd arrived, you didn't belong here.

You didn't belong with them.

When you meet Jason, it's about a year and a half into your stay, you were in the same uncomfy position in terms of your closeness with the Family, or rather lack thereof, and the day you meet, things are bright for the first time since you've moved in. You're in the kitchen making yourself lunch when he stealthily climbs in through the window, this scares the shit out of you, having never met him before, you brandish your peanut butter-covered butter knife towards him, "Woah! Easy there, I used to live here I swear." Jason says clearly amused by your fierce stance, he smiles at you with a warmth you'd grown unfamiliar with, "Shit- sorry I thought you were a burglar or something." You say laughing off your nervousness, dropping the knife in the sink as he leans against the counter.

"And if I was..you planned on buttering me to death?" He teases, you feel yourself snort before you can stop it, "Maybe, consider yourself lucky we never have to find out." This makes Jason chuckle under his breath, it still felt extremely weird for him to be back here, just recently becoming cordial with Bruce, but he enjoyed your company. nonetheless.

"You're (Y/n) right? Bruce's newest kid?" He notices the way your smile falls, how you turn to finish making your lunch, the mere mention of his name seems to deflate your once bright aura. "That's me." You seem to say this with a heaviness that doesn't belong on someone so young, "Who are you?" He scoffs lightly at your question, before leaning over, swiping half of your sandwich with a playful grin, "Wow, they didn't tell you about me? Figures, whatever, I'm Jason." He shakes your hand, and for the first time in years you feel good like you weren't on the edge of fucking something up, but then Jason's watch beeps and he leaves. He gently ruffles your hair, "Good to meet you kid, see you around yeah?"

Jason was like the sunshine breaking through the clouds of your new life, but eventually, his own life gets busier and busier, his monthly visits turn into a short call every once, and not long after, even that stops, he's busy ripping Gotham criminals to pieces, consumed by his rage. He just assumes you're fine, that everything is okay, after all, you never complained about it.

You know something is going on with them, their hushed conversations and seemingly never-ending parade of bruises and mysterious cuts start to add up, the way they disappeared at night, but it's only on your fifteenth birthday that you finally figure out what they'd been hiding. Bruce and Damian suddenly rushed away from your birthday dinner, you turn on the news as Alfred boxes up the mostly untouched food, watching you blow out your candles with a sad smile., Bruce and Damian's portions go cold and untouched.

Batman and Robin arrive on the scene just a few minutes after your father and your younger brother dash away. it's only then do you really notice how similar the dynamic duo looks to your two family members.

This is the final straw, when you realize what they've been hiding under your nose this whole time is.. infuriating to say the least, all of a sudden the isolation and otherness makes sense, of course they excluded you, you weren't a member of their little club. This night is the last you spend yearning for them, the bitter, festering anger that had been building over the years only intensifies as you stew in your rage.

#yananswers #anon submission #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere dc imagine #yandere dc x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #aint no sunshine

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lodgersims · 2 months ago

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As a Sims 2 player one of the most eerie things about playing the original game isn't necessarily the creepy/more liminal aesthetic or the repetitively endless gameplay, but the fact that almost all the pre-made Sims from the original game are inexorably doomed by the narrative.

There's something odd about Pleasantview specifically, where the majority of the returning Sim families live (save for Tara Kat, who seems... relatively fine). Like, the concept of the game is that twenty-five years have passed, and all of the returning characters are pre-baked into character arcs that communicate an unavoidable truth: You, the player, failed.

Bella Goth will disappear. Her brother (though in the original Sims we aren't aware that Michael Bachelor is her brother) will die, possibly murdered. Mortimer will be lost and alone. Cassandra will be stuck in an unloving engagement. The Newbie's daughter will be impoverished, a single mother whose husband died young, with two boys and another on the way. Daniel Pleasant will grow up to be a cheater. Jennifer Pleasant will never be an athlete like she wanted (her brother will). And though poor Johnny Burb never mentions Tucker anymore, you know that old dog died years ago. The Roomies, the Mashugas, the Hicks, the Charmings - all leave town... or worse, die out.

I think about Jeff Pleasant's bio in the first game: "Jeff and his family are new to the neighborhood. Can you help Jeff provide for his family and fulfill his lifelong goal of being the first man to walk on Mars?" And how it contrasts to Daniel's in the second: "Since his father Jeff died without achieving his dream of going to Mars, Daniel has felt an overwhelming guilt."

And sure, you can save the families of Pleasantview. You can choose for Mary-Sue to not go to work that day, or maybe Daniel never pursues Kaylynn Langerak again. You can give Cassandra a happy marriage, tame Don Lothario's womanizer ways. You can financially save Brandi Broke. You can get John Burb another dog. You can get Jennifer the career she always wanted. You can defy the scripted in-game prompts and say "No. I don't want to play like this." You can break the cycle, every time you play.

And yet, at the end of the day, no matter what you do... uninstalling the game and reinstalling it, maybe just deleting that Neighborhood folder, they are reset back to exactly where they were again. They're doomed to repeat it forever.

The game makes it clear that there are some things you aren't meant to change. A genie lamp or a Resurrect-O-Nomitron can bring back sims like Michael Bachelor, but you will pay for it in your neighborhood deteriorating to corruption. And no matter what you do, no force in the universe can bring Bella Goth back. The one in Strangetown isn't even really her, after all. And maybe she isn't. They say they deleted her in development, replaced her with a clone. Maybe that's what Bella Goth in Strangetown is. A clone. Maybe we were wrong, after all. Maybe she was never abducted by aliens. Maybe Don Lothario killed her. Maybe Dina Caliente killed her. Maybe Mortimer did. But you can't bring her back, no matter what you do. Recreate the original Bella, pixel by pixel, extract her data, make your zombie Bella. Build your own monster. Create a sim. But she will never recognize her family. Never see them as her own.

And she was never meant to.

#the sims #the sims 1 #sims 1 #sims #ts1 #the sims 2 #sims 2 #ts2 #pleasantview

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jyoongim · 6 months ago

Note

Alastor loves his mother, he protected her from his father and went on a killing spree on all horrible men.

So it only makes sense that he falls in love with single mother reader yeah? Like she killed her husband to protect her child and they both ended up in hell? And Alastor just obsessing with mother reader and her child.

I haven’t written anything in a while so this might be a little wonky but i hope i did ok

———————————————————————————

Alastor hated men that treated good women terribly.

Especially if there were children in the home.

He had lived with his mother, who put up with his father’s abuse for his sake.

Until Alastor had had enough of seeing the woman he loved abused by her husband.

Despite his mother's protests.

His mother always loved his father despite how he treated them.

Love works in mysterious ways Is what his mother use to say.

He didn’t understand what that meant…

Until he met you.

The pretty doll with a tot.

From the grapevine he learned that no one had seen a husband around or a band on your finger.

He thought it was impossible; you were a catch!

Why was a sweet thing like you without a husband?

“Would you care to stay for dinner my dear?” Alastor asked as you got up ready to go home. You had came over to give him a fruit basket, a welcome gift as you were his neighbor.

You looked at the time surprised at how long you had stayed chatting.

”Oh Al i would hate to intrude and its past this one’s bedtime” you said gesturing to the child, who had fell asleep in your arms.

Alastor hummed. He had grown quite attached to you and the little one, he had hoped you would take his invitation and stay the night.

Soon.

You gave him a soft smile and went home.

Alastor was the most eligible bachelor in town. All the ladies swooned after him, though he never cared for the attention, but it was different with you.

He went about his evening routine when the sound of shouting could be heard.

interesting.

From the window of his kitchen, he had a perfect view into your home.

A man was standing in your living room, hands moving animatedly.

He scowled. Ah that must be your estranged husband.

You had told Alastor a bit about the man you were married to and how much of a bastard he was.

You were frowning and standing between him and your child.

The man advanced and Alastor thought to go over but to his surprise you gestured for the child to go to their room and got in the man’s face.

The two of you exchanged words and the man raised his hand and hit you. You stumbled back, seemingly shock and looked at him with disbelief and something else.

You grabbed a nearby by lamp and smashed it against his head. The man went down and you jumped on top of him, slamming the lamp down over and over until you stood back up and there was blood on your clothes.

You covered your mouth, panic set in and you ran from the room.

Alastor’s lips turned into a smile and he made his way over.

He knocked at the door, basically bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.

You opened the door, now cleaned “A-Al? What are you-”

He feigned concern “Heard a ruckus and came to make sure you and the tot were ok” You looked back into the house and then back at him.

”We-we’re ok” you whispered.

His brows quirked, head tilting “You sure Cher?”

You bit at your lip before opening the door to let him in.

Alastor’s eyes landed on the battered body of your husband and turned to you.

You were obviously distressed “Al he-he threatened me and then hit me and I didn’t know what else to do” you approached him, almost pleading

”Please don’t report me. Pretend you saw nothing and keep. This between us”

Alastor approached the body. He nugded it with his shoe and smiled “Oh my dear I would never. In fact, why not leave this mess to me hm? You look worn for wear ”

You nodded and sat on your couch and had a meltdown.

You just killed a man.

Your husband.

But you had no choice.

———————————————————————————-

“So you’re telling me that you been with Smiles ever since” Angel asked shocked.

You smiled “I mean it ain’t every day a man takes care of your dead body. I knew from that moment that he was the one for me”

After the death of your husband, you and Alastor started seeing each other more intimately.

He had let you in on his true identity and the bond between the two of you had grown stronger.

He was an excellent father to your child. The little tot had even started calling him daddy.

But fate was cruel and after many years you died, ending up in Hell for the murder of your husband.

You had found Alastor and reunited, he led you to the hotel, where the two of you lived as a couple.

”She’s full of surprises I assure you” a radio-like voice said and you turned to see Alastor entering the lobby with your child in tow.

Yes. Full of surprises.

For he would have killed the man himself if you didn’t.

it was only right that you were now his

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon

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winterzsurprise · 18 days ago

Text

Crimson Lovers • KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x reader

SUMMARY: “I'd spoil you rotten, put you in the nicest, most expensive clothing and I'd still have more to spend on you for an eternity.” Jin whispered into your lips like a promise. If it weren't for your lust addled mind, you'd believe him. “You like wealth, princess? I have plenty. My coven has a dragon, he'd spoil you rotten, he’d stop at nothing to give you everything you'd ever wanted.”

Or alternatively, your friend’s only solution to you being a broke college student with a family to feed is to attend a private feeding party where the most affluent vampires are in attendance to drink fresh blood in exchange for money and get yourself in trouble with the infamous Kim Coven.

Tags: Vampire! Seokjin, Half-Faerie! Reader, Mythical Creatures AU!, SMUT, Cunnilingus, Magic slick (Seokjin passed out from it lmao), Blood sucking(obvs), not beta read.

Words: 5.1k

I just found this one collecting dust in the vault so I decided to post it here since it'll be a shame if I don't post a 5k words worth work. Its supposed to be the first chapter for a mythical creatures and reincarnation au bts x reader story but I immediately hit a wall.

I'll prolly pick it up in the future idk.

• MASTERLIST •

__________

Never in your life have you ever thought a single sheet of paper could weigh so heavily in the palm of your hands like it holds the heaviness of your future.

Depending on your answer, it does.

The card was a vibrant crimson with a nice golden design of modest swirls as margins for the text that are colored in silver, the material no doubt expensive. It was an invitation to a private feeding after all, how could it look shabby when only a selected few are given the opportunity to attend?

By selecting a few, you meant people from affluent backgrounds and some unfortunate people desperate for money.

It was obvious what category you’d fall into.

If you were to attend the party.

“Stop staring at it like it offended your ancestors, I'm just suggesting it.”

Soomin, your friend since high school, says.

“Where did you even get this? You don't know any vampires, do you?”

She shrugs, leaning back into her armchair. “Got a few favours. You were complaining about needing money and thought I could use some of them.”

Scratching your head, you read the card's contents with careful apprehension.

“Relax, it's not enchanted to track where it goes. It's just a normal card, you know I wouldn't force you into something if safety wasn't guaranteed.”

Before leaving the herd to pursue college far from the safety of family wards, your mother had enchanted your accessories with aura suppressors and glamours to prevent people from knowing your heritage.

You were told of horrors of the inhabitants outside the plane, both mortals and supernaturals turning over every leaf in the forest just for a whiff of a faerie.

Your blood is as precious as its golden colour, said to restore even the weakest mortal on its deathbed to pristine condition with a mere drop and turn a half vampire’s miniscule powers into a bottomless pit of a royal pureblood.

Faeries live in constant danger and you'd be damned if you weren’t taught to overthink everything.

“It’s anonymous, they’ll have you wear a mask, don't overthink it too much. My aunt used to tell me ‘your body is an emergency fund, every part of you is profitable. You just need to know the right place.’ or in my case, a man.”

She says, wiggling her fingers in front of your face where a gigantic pink diamond glimmered under the light above you, an engagement ring from the werewolf she bagged from dancing haphazardly on a stranger one friday night.

It's her pride, being able to capture the attention of one of the country's most attractive bachelors. It gave her a confidence that soared so high in the skies, she had nudged the space terminal. You couldn't even blame her for thinking so, knowing you'd share the same sentiments if it were you.

But still, daring to wander around without the wards your mother has spent years of creating to keep you safe, it makes your stomach churn.

Placing the card and pushing it as far as you could, you lean back into the chair.

“I don't know… It's really risky.”

“I’m just suggesting here,” she sighs, sliding the paper back in front of you and patting it. “If all goes well, you wouldn't need to work overtime for a year at least.”

“You saying that only makes me overthink it even more.”

She rolls her eyes playfully.

You knew she was right and the prospect of not working for a year is tempting. But a part of you frowned at the thought of risking your safety for a couple of zeroes in your bank account. Pride is such a fickle thing, so easily threatened and dragged through the mud when desperation kicks in.

But what is Pride in the face of your mountainous pending bills?

Not to mention, your mother and little brother's living situation back in the province. Soobin needed new shoes for school, you've seen how well-worn it has been—if well-worn meant clumsily glued back soles onto the upper body for the nth time with shoelaces frizzled and pulled taut from being twisted into knots and years of washing.

Your barista and supermarket cashier job nor your mother's job as a saleslady in the wet market doesn't reward you enough to save for his shoe while trying to sustain both you and your family, you need more. Taking on another 9-5 job is far from the solution.

Grabbing the paper with a newfound heaviness in your body, you sighed. The address encrusted in silver stood out in the seas of crimson reds, rooting your eyes onto the text.

“You asked for my help and I offer this–this somewhat long term solution.”

“But what if someone tries to track my blood back to me?”

Your mother and brother are counting on you, her salary from selling in the market aren't enough for the both of them. If you were to disappear they would sink further than you all already are, Soobin would stop attending school in favour of working. The guilt from seeing your mother bend over her back to be able to put food on the table would kill him.

It's a burdening feeling you wouldn't wish upon him. He should only know to have fun, make friends, and experience life in high school like a normal teen would.

You can't afford to put yourself in danger.

“I’ll put my name on the list instead. I promise you that you'll be safe, you just need to find someone to feed on you and then you can go, easy money!”

Seeing the hesitance in your eyes, she continued.

“Sometimes you just need to live a little. There's rewards in risking, you know?”

But then again, nor can you afford new shoes for Soobin with your minimum wage jobs.

With a defeated sigh, you looked up to meet your friend's eyes.

“How should I dress?”

________

He should've known better than attending parties the prehistoric council members had invited him into, you'd think centuries of politics would render him immune to these tricky situations yet here he is, standing awkwardly in the middle of the meeting room while holding said invitation and a cocktail. The old geezer was already gone by the time he realised his mistake.

The envelope was a deep hue of red, a foretelling sign of what the party might be about.

It wasn't a shock when he saw the neatly imprinted silver text on the thick crimson paper telling him of a private feeding gathering for both the fortunate and the unfortunate on Saturday.

While being a vampire himself, he never had to feed on strangers when he had his coven to fill him up for the next month or so. His age has allowed him longer intervals between feeding and at this point, he has grown nonchalant with that aspect of his life.

Obviously, he should've ripped it to shreds and incinerated the damn thing.

But a voice whispered at the back of his, urging him to join the small gathering. A nagging feeling tugging at him and telling him he'd miss something important if he were to dismiss the invitation. Yet when asked why he went, he said it's to oversee the event undercover.

He could still feel the burning curious gaze of his brothers on his skin.

Which brings him to his current predicament, fighting off the urge to yawn from the absolute boredom caused by newbloods breaking their backs to impress potential business partners and blood donors.

He silently thanked whoever thought it was a good idea to have guests wear masks. There would've been heaps upon heaps of scandals if he were to be spotted in a feeding party, not to mention, the newbloods trying to peacock their way to being sponsored by the Kim Coven and from the rising irritation burning his back, he might shave off a huge number off the vampire population.

He couldn't remember the times he had done his route around the hall, trying to avoid people vying for a morsel of attention and trying his best to not stay still in one place for people to recognize him but he did know that if he were to go around once more, he's leaving once and for all.

Downing his last martini, he stood up.

Only for a dizzying scent to knock him back into his seat. It grabbed onto his throat with a tight grip, stuffing his head and demanding his attention. It smelled like the sweetest of sin, honeyed and dripping thick on his tongue.

A faerie’s blood, although from a half, is still as tantalising as a pure blooded one.

He hears the murmurs, could feel multiple spawns’ auras spilling out of their body, their greed relentless and non-discriminating as it lashed out over each other, fighting to be noticed by the woman in the black bodycon dress. Why are they looking at her? How dare they lay their eyes on what's mine—

He immediately shook the thought away, making a note to review it later.

You strode into the middle of the ballroom with a sway to your hips, lips painted in the hue of blood stretching into a coy smile as vampires of all ages take a step towards your direction. The dress didn't leave much to the imagination with its thin fabric clinging onto your form tightly. From the spaghetti straps hanging flimsily on your shoulders to the low dip of its collar between the mounds of your chest and the high slits on one side to reveal the plumpness of your thighs, you were mouth watering in every way possible.

With pouty lips tinted in crimson red and hair loosely curled on the side of your face. You were a sight to behold.

Seeing you stride in with all that skin displayed for everyone to see, a ravenous monster at the back of his mind resurfaces. Greed and possessiveness of the others seeped into his skin, awakening something he had long buried.

A potential mate, his mind had whispered

Fuck, you're driving him insane.

Seokjin didn't notice his feet moving, following the alluring scent beckoning him close as if hypnotised but he did see the flirtatious narrowing of your eyes as he approached. If his power is spilling over the floor and deterring everyone from daring to get in between you both, he ignored it.

In fact, he revelled in their soured faces and shivering bodies.

He wasn't one for claiming territories nor was he the type to flaunt his power but for tonight, he'll make an exception.

No one is to dare interrupt him.

“What's a pretty faerie like you doing outside of their realm?”

He tried so hard not to stare at the delectable view of the mounds of your breast or the unblemished skin of your neck and chest but it's difficult with the view granted by his height. Your heartbeat pulsed nervously despite the flirtatious mask you so perfectly strut with.

He could practically taste your scent being this close and his throat dries up.

Fuck, you're gonna make him religious.

“The same as the other women in pretty dresses in this room, darling. Money.”

“Aren't you scared people might hurt you?” It was a genuine question, if he wasn't here to step over the pining prospects, he didn't want to imagine how they would've killed each other for a glance.

You would've been ravaged, you were bold for strutting into a room full of ravenous vampires. It was impressive as much as it made his blood curl. He pushed the thought away, he wouldn't want to scare you off by decorating the hall in gore.

Seokjin could feel your fear, could hear it from the racing beats of your heart under flesh and bones. You were nervous, no doubt ready to bolt the moment you were approached by the predators surrounding you in all directions yet you faced him head on with a false confidence he started to think is real.

If fear were to ever linger in the corner of your eyes, he had a feeling it wouldn't end well for every supernatural in this room.

No one should ever dare scare you.

“I'm desperate. So, if you aren't trying to take me for the night, I have other guys pining for me so excuse—”

“I didn't say I didn't want you, sweetheart. I'm just trying to get to know you better.”

You stopped, looking up at him through your lashes as you stepped closer.

Lithe fingers boldly reached onto his tie pressed neatly behind his blazer—nails painted in a sinful red hue, he notes— tugging and twirling it between fingers as you stepped closer and closer, further drowning him in your delectable fragrance. Your nervous heart beats echoed in his ears and it sounded like the piper's capturing tune, your scent surrounds him like a haze of amortentia, demanding his attention on your eyes, your lips, your skin and to the dip in your waist. All Seokjin could think about was you.

Your soft flesh flashing up at him, teasing him and urging him to have a taste, to feel the rush of your blood coating his tongue and down his throat, to run his hands over your skin and have his marks littering its unblemished surface.

Suddenly his clothes felt suffocating in the heat of his desire.

Was he seriously this floored for someone whose face he hasn't seen?

“All you need to know is that I need a name to moan, handsome.”

He could feel the thread of his patience running thin, lust leaking in and clouding his judgement. He smirked. “Name’s Jin. What should I call you then, sweet thing?”

Your arms reached around his neck, body pressing flush into his chest as you looked up at him through lidded eyes. The size difference not going unnoticed, if anything, it made him want to drive a stake through his heart.

“Cherry.”

He doesn't know who started it first, nor does he remember how you both ended up in a private room after the feeding contract was signed, doors locked behind you both as he pressed you onto its wooden material, the masks long forgotten on the floor. Seokjin felt your lust in how your scent sweetened further like heaven's nectar, grabbing onto his throat and drowning him.

It almost felt sacrilegious that he gets to know you so intimately like this. Almost unfair how your desires grappled with his patience like a cat with a ball of yarn, temptation lighting his skin alight.

Pulling away, his lips immediately zeroed in on your neck. His fangs ached to be buried onto your precious skin but he knows better than to harvest his rewards early. He sucked bruises and marked your throat yet the greediness in his chest didn't relent, if anything, it rampaged further at the sight of you littered with his marks.

They looked so pretty on you.

“You're driving me insane.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Taking your lips once again with his, you engaged in a wild dance of teeth dragging over his lips and tongue clashing with yours before picking you up and taking you both to the bed at the far corner of the room.

The straps of your dress falling from your shoulders shouldn't have the effect it does to him yet here he is, throat tight and mouth watering as he hovers over your pliant body, full chest spilling on the sides of your body, raising with your laboured breath with cheeks flushed with desire. His hands pushed the offending fabric of your dress to bunch over your inner thighs, eyes greedily drinking in every inch of skin being revealed to him before noticing how the thick flesh managed to look so small under his palms.

His mouth dries.

He can't wait to see how Namjoon feels about the size difference between you. The man would lose every morsel of control.

“Stop staring!”

“Why should I? You look so pretty like this.”

There's something so sinfully divine in how the fabric only seems to cover the necessary parts of your body, trying its best—and failing—to hide you from his gaze, the devil about to corrupt your purity with a bite.

You whined, hand reaching for him as you flush darker at his comment.

You'd turn Yoongi into a devout worshipper who'd dedicate a thousand songs because of this sight alone.

He ran his hands across your thighs, thumb inching closer to your heat under the fabric and every time it neared your breath hitches. Your heartbeat thuds a little faster, a new melody he's grown to love.

Yoongi would've somehow composed a song with it.

“If you stare any longer, I'm going to start charging you.”

He didn't mean to laugh as hard as he did at that.

“Not much of a threat for me, sweetheart. I'm fucking rich.”

Your scent flares as you let out a soft moan and he captures your lips once more before pulling away with a smirk.

“I'd spoil you rotten, put you in the nicest, most expensive clothing and I'd still have more to spend on you for an eternity.”

You whined and it sounded like the sweetest melody he'd hear once he enters whatever heaven there is for the supernatural.

Seokjin didn't have a kink for spending money on someone nor did he imagine he'd have one, but as he drawled on, he couldn't help but imagine you in the most lavish fabric to pose for him and his coven members, to see your form covered in the softest of silk and the rarest of gems only their money could purchase, his throat tightened.

Taehyung’s designed clothes would fit you perfectly.

“You like wealth, princess? I have plenty. My coven has a dragon, he'd spoil you rotten, he’d stop at nothing to give you everything you'd ever wanted.”

You didn't react to his revelation and he takes it as a win, a silent acceptance of his coven.

“Please just touch me.”

“Where do you want me, princess?”

You take his hand, lithe and small against him, and bring it close to where you wanted him most between legs, nudging his fingers between folds and shocks shoots through his body. He groans, the lacy fabric already drenched with your arousal, doused with your addicting scent.

“I want your fingers inside me, Jinnie. Please?”

If you asked him for the universe with that voice, he would learn how to shrink it and hand it over to you the next day tied with a bowstring.

Are you aware of the power you hold over him?

Instead of moving, he let you move his wrist, watched you with rapt attention as his fingers dipped down your folds, hovering on your clenching hole before rising to nudge your clit, teasing your already sensitive self and moaning from the slightest of touch.

If it wasn't for the unfamiliar signature of a faerie in your scent, he would've thought you were a succubus.

“Look at you grinding on my knuckles so prettily, already so needy for me.”

He pressed light figures of eight on your button and drank in the sight of your desperation with rapt attention. Your hips twisted, eager for more. Tugging the fabric aside with the other hand, he toyed with your clit, using different pressures and motions to figure out what brings you the most pleasure before dipping a finger into you.

Your velvety walls fluttered around him, pulsing with need and tightening oh so deliciously on his finger. His cock stirs in his pants as he adds another digit, he can't wait to bury himself into your warmth.

Seeing you thrash around in pleasure as his fingers drove and curled inside you, got his body crawling with the intense feeling of greed. He wanted to see more of you, to have you on the brink of breaking. Suddenly, the dress flimsily covering you grew offensive. He eyed the material restricting his movements before pulling away from your cunt and reaching up to tug your panties off of you, discreetly tossing it into his spatial storage.

The dress is already halfway off your skin, he could easily tear them apart to replace them with a better, more expensive fabric but decided against it.

He sheds the clothing inch by inch, placing soft kisses and gentle nibbles to newly uncovered skin, leaving you breathless beneath him. Your scent flourished with your magic. It was electrifying. Intoxicating how your power seems to react so well with his.

Like you were meant to be.

Sitting back, he admired the divine artwork before him, embedding the sight into the walls of his brain. Your arms moved to cross over your breasts from his gaze making him reach down to entangle your fingers with his and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Don't hide from me. You look so pretty like this.”

With you finally revealed bare beneath him, he wasted no more time, leaning down to your cunt where your scent was stronger and licked.

Your flavour explodes on his tongue and he groans. Whether it was just your scent he’s tasting or your arousal he could care less, mouth latching onto your folds and tongue lolling on your erect bead as he sucked. His head buzzed, intoxicated by the fluctuating aroma surrounding him. He could die happy between your shuddering thighs threatening to close around his face, he didn’t mind it though, he can go on without breathing if only he could taste your sweet nectar.

Tasting you felt blasphemous, like he broke every heavenly rule there is by having you drip on his tongue. Sinful and outright disrespectful, and he loved it.

Heat ravaged his entire being alight, desire running rampant and restless under his skin. His fingers roamed your uncharted skin possessively, digging his fingers onto flesh and dragging them down, cupping and squeezing whatever he could reach while his mouth busied with your clit. Your hands grabbed at his head, fingers threading and entangling themselves onto his hair, confused whether to push him away or to tug him closer as you edged closer to the precipice of your high.

“I'm so close…! Jinnie please!”

With your back arched, hair laid around your head like a halo and chest glistening with sweat stuttering as you come to a close, skin illuminated by the soft lights of the room, Seokjin swore he has never seen a more beautiful sight than this.

His fangs ached once more.

“Fuck..! I’m gonna—”

He pulls away, teeth sinking into the plush of your thigh and your body seizes with pleasure, the ecstasy caused by his bite pushing you over.

Your blood is light and rich on his tongue, syrupy and honeyed, like the sweetest nectar found only in the garden of eden, the flavour heightened by your climax. Seokjin could taste the sugariness of your orgasm as if it was his own and he groaned. It was dizzying, the taste clogging his senses and stuffing cottons inside his mind as he took and took. He has never realised how hungry he was until he’s bitten into your skin.

His head swims, intoxicated by the raw magic in your blood entering his system, intertwining and entangling themselves into his own before boldly integrating with the flow of his power as if they've always been there. Energy buzzed under his fingers now erratically plunging and curling inside your cunt, further sweetening your blood as you edged between pleasure and pain from overstimulation.

Then in the midst of all the pleasure and nirvana, something clicks into place and he jerks awake from the haze.

Forcing himself to pull away, he almost black out as if he’s been taken off of life support—he feels like he did. Head blank and lightheaded, blood drunk. Even in his bleary state, he could feel it. An additional trace of your magic latching onto his own, a bond unconsciously made.

The uncomfortable stickiness in his boxers didn't go unnoticed and he buried his face into your thigh, blushing for no one in particular.

He cursed under his breath before pushing himself up and wishing you both into the comfortable clothing he had stocked up in his pocket dimension before taking his phone out of it, immediately greeted by the onslaught of text on his lock screen, all two hundred of them from his brothers who had no doubt felt the addition and his intense pleasure from feeding on you.

Normally, he'd be embarrassed by the thought of them knowing what he's been up to but there were more pressing matters to attend to.

For example, the bond formed without your consent and his.

There's panic and confusion swirling madly like a hurricane through the six other bonds. He forced calmness down the lines tethered to his magic before turning back to the issue at hand.

He might have to wake you up and inform you of what happened.

But when he looked up and found your eyes closed, most likely blacking out from the intensity of the unprecedented bonding and the overstimulation from a vampire's bite, he figured that he'd deal with it tomorrow. You looked peaceful and he found himself mirroring the same sentiment, exhaustion weighing his bones. He dragged himself up next to you, arms wrapping around your torso as if he has always been doing so.

There's still insistent tugs down the lines of his bond, demanding answers and the constant buzzing from his phone but that's for tomorrow's Seokjin’s problem to solve, for now, he closes his eyes.

For the first time that year, Seokjin sleeps and wakes from the most pleasant rest he's had in centuries only to end it abruptly when he wakes up with the other side of the bed empty and he freaks.

______

“What the fuck do you mean you just left him?!”

“What the fuck was I supposed to do then?! If he's as high profile as you think, I don't think he'd appreciate waking up next to a one night stand!”

“Not all of them you—ARGH!”

Soomin groaned exasperatedly and loudly, folding over herself as she facepalms on the other armchair in your dorm's living room. Deeming it not dramatic enough, she grabs the pink throw pillow behind her and screams onto it.

Truth be told, leaving Jin earlier that morning placed a heavy weight on your heart. It felt so wrong to walk away from him, as if there's a string tying you to him and now it's pulled taut—which is a crazy statement to think about, there was no bonding ritual so how could you feel so dejected from closing the door behind you?

You have a couple of spare zeroes in your bank account now with bills paid and an expensive pair of black shoes already in transit for Soobin. Why would you be sad from leaving a one night stand?

You couldn't even believe you managed to bag someone that high in the social hierarchy. That party was a nightmare, walking in knowing all eyes would turn to you, all predatorial and hungry, it almost made you want to run back to your mother's arms. But you're an actress, theatre experience be damned if you weren't going to put on the greatest act of your life.

Fake till you make it, you always think and it led to you having the most earth shattering, blackout worthy orgasm as well as owning heaps of money.

Soomin has a different sentiment though, now standing up to crossover to where you sat across her before promptly hitting your body with the pillow.

“You're. So. Fucking. Stupid!” She screams like you had pissed and disrespected her ancestors’ grave, striking after each word. “That man might be Kim Seokjin from the most elusive clan in the world! Number one most sought bachelor and the country's most powerful sorcerer and you just walked away from him!”

“How could you be so sure it's him? All we got is a nickname.”

“His name is literally Jin which is short for Seokjin and he's a vampire wizard! You said he has a coven with a dragon? Well, guess what?! That dragon is Kim fucking Namjoon, another member of the Kim coven! That man is one of the richest in the fucking world and you just ditched his coven’s eldest!”

She swings for the last time and you weren't so fortunate the last few times—already letting down your guard when she began ranting—and it hits you square in the face. You groaned in pain, the zipper on the side of the pillow scratching your skin.

Soomin’s anger immediately dwindled as she realised her error and gasped, falling to her knees and hands already reaching to cup your face to check for visible marks, pillow left abandoned on the carpet.

“Can't be damaging the face that bagged the Kim coven.”

“No damage here.”

“Just my faith in your decision making skills. I mean,” she stands, now more subdued and more disappointed than angry, still you eyed the pillow warily. “You've been wearing yourself down to death for years not only for you but also your family. If you were taken into the Kim Clan, you wouldn't have to worry about money anymore.”

Despite being one of your closest and longest friends, there's always been a huge difference with how you both perceive money.

You're desperate for it, clawing and digging your hands bloody through the desolate desert for a chance of finding one small nugget to sustain your family while Soomin was familiar with it—she grew comfortably living in her parents’ spoils of years of hard work but never enough to buy the highest of quality items until her fiance came and suddenly, she had more than enough to spend for her luxury and you.

You strived and toiled for a smidge of stability whereas she revelled in anything life throws at her without worry because she has her parents to catch her if everything ever goes wrong.

She thinks of luxury as designer brands and ridiculously highly priced products that don't guarantee the greatest quality but you think of luxury as never having to worry about spending a cent over the designated budget for food shopping.

Even then, you loved her to the bone. Appreciated her like a sister from another mother.

“I can't afford to be distracted right now. I have a course to finish and a family to keep alive, I can't be hanging onto blind hope.”

Soomin's eyes softened, understanding and sighed. Turning around, she licked up the stray pillow before settling back into her chair and crossing her arms.

“I'm just… I just wanted you to be happier. It's a life mission of mine to make sure I won't die before seeing you living without stressing over details.”

“I know.”

“I love you, leaflet.”

You laugh and she smiles. “I love you too, queen.”

#bts x reader #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin bts #kim seokjin #seokjin smut

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slutofpsh · 6 months ago

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f1 racer | psh. (teaser)

pairings: park sunghoon x reader

synopsis: f1 racer park sunghoon is the ace of their team until he got into a terrible accident causing of his sudden hiatus. the incident injured his shoulder and affected his mental health. you are hired by his mother to help him get through this tough times as you are one of the best psychiatrist in town. he hated the idea of being vulnerable so instinctively, he hates you. he hates how you try to get into his head for him to open up and he hates his parents for meddling with his life like he’s a kid. but he couldn’t deny that you are exceptionally beautiful and he can’t help his cock from twitching just by imagining pushing you down on your office table, fucking you deep and hard until you can’t think straight anymore.

warnings: smut, lots of dirty talking, degrading, corruption kink, minors dni, p into v raw (please always use protection) and dom sunghoon.

genre: smut.

date of release: 05.22.24

tag-list: open

“So did you accept it?” your head cranes over to the side to glance at one of your colleagues. She’s still wearing her white coat while she rest her back at the swivel chair.

“Yes. It’s a good offer.” you gave her a short shoulder shrug.

She sighs and watch how you took off your white coat then hangs it on your chair. Obviously, you are clueless of the situation you just got yourself into. She hates how workaholic you are and how you’re one of the best psychiatrist in the hospital. Mainly why you’re at the top list of the recommended doctors.

“Do you know who’s going to be your patient?” her tone sounded challenging, arms crossing as she waits for your answer.

You nod your head, eye glancing at the folder laid beside your keyboard.

“Yes. Mr. Park Sunghoon.”

She rolls her eyes, “He’s not just Park Sunghoon, y/n.” she sighs and tilts her head.

“He’s the ace driver of a famour F1 team. The young bachelor who got into a terrible accident three months ago.”

You’re a person with good life background. Not a single record for doing something bad, graduated top on your class, one of the best psychiatrist in your hospital, very smart and someone who truly enjoys the profession she pursued.

There are varieties of patients you’ve worked with before. The group who's willingly seek for your help in order for them to get better. The patients who was forced to do these sessions for the satisfaction of a family member or a loved one. And then the ones who truly hates it and give you hard time, punishing you for merely wanting to help them professionally.

That’s where Park Sunghoon is aligned. He made sure you perfectly know that he’s against with this arrangement. But he cannot do anything about it. He cannot fire you, because he didn’t hire you on the first place.

It was his Mother who asked for your professional help, so if there’s someone who can tell you that you’re not qualified for the job already, it would be only her.

Park Sunghoon is a walking temptation for you. It was against your rules to be attracted towards your patients, but you just couldn’t help yourself. He’s very handsome despite his rotten attitude. You kept having this sensual thoughts whenever he’s around. It felt so wrong and illegal. How you felt so weak and how you get wet just by looking at his toned arms and veiny hands.

“So you don’t have any idea who I was before you accepted this job?” amusment lurks over his tone as he truly find it somehow entertaining.

Not to sound so full of himself, but he’s pretty famous. Not only to his home country, but to the whole world. The bitterness slowly creeps over his chest by the thought of it. He shoves it off his mind because that’s not important as of the moment.

You nod your head sincerely while eyes darted straight at the handsome man sat across of you. His long legs are spread occupying most of the space of your couch. One of his arm rests at the side of it, the other arm on a cast. It was the one that got injured and he needed it to be casted from time to time.

“You live under a rock or something?” his tone taunting.

You didn’t let it get to you then just flash him a small smile. “I was busy studying.”

He pursed his lips downwards while nodding his head slowly. His brow arches attractively before he smirks again.

“Oh, right. Miss Valedictorian have no time to fool around.” he said it with so much sarcasm and sighs right after. His gaze turned slightly dark while thinking about something. To what it is, you have no idea.

For starter, he was hard to read after-all.

“Let me just ask you something, Doc.” he starts. Just by the way he’s looking at you, you can already tell he’s up to no good.

You gulped, trying to get a hold of your thoughts and keep a firm look on your face. The last thing you would want is too look weak in front of him. He’ll eat you alive if you let him overpower you.

“Go ahead, Mr. Park.” you tried to sound so casual. A doctor interviewing her patient. Not crossing any line, keeping a safe distant from him.

“Are you still a virgin?” his bold question completely caught you off-guard. Your breath hitches as blood rushes over your face, blushing hard.

“E-Excuse me?” the flustered look on your face made his grin wider.

Just seeing your innocent eyes opens wider after that question was priceless for Sunghoon. He couldn’t get enough of you. Dark thoughts occupies his mind, how you will be so perfect for him. How fun would it be corrupting the fuck out of you.

“I forbid you from asking personal questions. This has nothing to do with your sessions.” and you cleared your throat then teared your eyes off of him.

He tilts his head, “Don’t you think you’re being unfair? You ask me personal questions too.”

Your lips hangs open, ready to answer him. Sunghoon’s brows arched as he waits for what you’re about to say.

“T-That’s different. You are my patient and you—”

“How am I suppose to trust you when I know nothing about you?” his words stunned you. Truly he makes a point. In order for your patient to be confident enough to share their thoughts to you, you need to earn their trust.

How are you suppose to gain his trust when he knows nothing about you? But why does it have to be your sex life? You can share anything else, not that one.

“Then ask something else.”

He shook his head with a teasing grin. “That’s what I want to know the most.”

You stared at him straight to his eyes, silently asking him if he’s being serious about it. He didn’t budge and just stared back, piercing through your soul. You let out a strained sigh as an act of surrender before resting your back at your chair.

“Y-Yes.” you gulped, trying to get rid of the lump between your throat. The amount of embarrasment you are having right now is incomparable to anything else. You’ve never been humiliated like this.

A spark lights up over his pretty eyes, his thick pretty brows raising in amusement. He chuckles and you quickly glanced away, couldn’t take it.

“I did expect you to say yes, but to actually hear you confirming it is still surprising.” he stated.

You nibbled over your lower lip then dropped your eyes at the clipboard you are holding. The paper clipped to it was almost blank, nothing else was written except from the date as he’s not cooperating as usual. But in comparison from your previous meetings, he’s more talkative as of the moment.

“So tell me, why?” he asks in full curiosity. You glanced at him with a furrowed brows, confused as to what’s he’s talking about.

“Does no one wants you? Nobody tried to— ah no, that’s impossible right? I bet a lot had tried before but they just miserably failed.” the corner of his mouth lifts as he racked his eyes from your eyes down to your feet, licking and biting over his lips through the process. It was almost like he’s undressing you inside his mind.

The sight itself was enough to make you feel horny, the space between your thighs slowly getting wet. It was sinful and becoming unbearable for you. The temperature of the room surprisingly became hotter because of the man in front of you.

If you’re slowly losing your mind, Sunghoon had gone crazy in his own thoughts. After hearing it from you, he lost it. The thought of how pure and innocent you are just makes him dizzy and very horny. He can think of the most awful and darkest thoughts he wants to do to corrupt you. Make you his cum dump and a slave to his cock. It makes him so riled up.

Sunghoon curses inside his mind feeling his cock getting painfully hard.

Your eyes unconsciously darted over the wall clock and a part of you cheers that finally it was times up for his session.

“O-Our session is over, Mr. Park.” you forced yourself up, thighs rubbing each other and the heat coming out from your core makes it so bothering.

You didn’t wait for Sunghoon to speak and just stood up then walk towards your table, starting to rummage over nothing. Continuously touching and arranging things that doesn’t necessarily messy.

The couch made a sound when he stood up and you can feel your heart thumping so hard as you wait for him to talk.

Instead of hearing his voice, you heard him carefully walking near you. It halts your movement and your chest rises up and down. Your breath hitched as you feel his presence looming behind him, his tall figure approaching closer.

He stopped a step behind you. The sexual tension between the two of you is sky rocket, making you feel slightly suffocated. Sunghoon raises his free arm to reach over your waist.

The moment his big hand touched you, it was over for you. The wall you tried to barricade yourself in, crumbling down.

Sunghoon inched closer pressing his hot body at your back. Your scent made its way over his nose and he nibbled his lips at how good you smell.

“We shouldn’t really—” your words hangs as his action caught you off guard.

He dipped his head down, face dangerously burying your neck. His sinful hot lips places feathery kisses over it. Your hand clenched into fists, trying hard not to make any sound or let out a moan that can surely please him.

“Mr. Park,” you tried hard to face him, hand rests over his uninjured shoulder to push him away.

The difference between your physique clearly made it obvious how your strength would not even match his and so to see him not budging from his position isn’t really surprising.

He smirks, finding you adorable while blushing so hard. His effect on you visible and he’s loving it so much. He pressed himself again and this time it’s even more dangerous as you are face to face with each other.

You can now see his ethereal visuals, his thick dark brows, eyes surrounded by thick long lashes, nose pointy with a noticeable beauty mark on it and his pretty lips. He smirks, running his tongue once over them before nibbling over his lower lip showing you his fangs.

“Just like what you always tell me...” he murmured, lips inches away from yours.

Your heart almost burst out from your chest because of the intensity he's making you feel. The urge of giving in and kissing him plays inside your head dangerously clouding your senses.

“Cooperate.” his grip over your waist tightens as he leans even closer.

The last string of resistance prevents you from kissing him on his lips, leaning away when he inched closer. His eyes lifts from your lips, to your eyes. You can see how his eyes are clouded with nothing but lust.

“Think about it, Doctor. If we both cooperate in here, we’ll get what we wants the most. It’s a win win situation.” and he tugs you closer to him making you feel his erection from his pants.

His head leans at the side, his lips grazing slightly to bite your earlobe teasingly. It makes you feel ticklish and lightheaded.

“You, getting inside of my mind and me getting inside of you.” he seductively whispered over your ears, hot breath fanning your neck that made the hairs stands up.

Your knees weakened and he hold your waist tighter to prevent you from collapsing down the cold floor.

The intercom to your office rings and it made you jolt. Sunghoon chuckles at how adorable you are for getting surprise by small sounds.

“Doctor, I would like to remind you that your session with Mr. Park is now over. The next client just arrived.” your assistant just announced.

A heavy and disappointed sigh slips off from Sunghoon’s mouth before he moves away from you. His hands ripped away from you and the sudden lose contact made you slightly feel empty, hand gripping the table hardly to keep balance.

He noticed it and he grinned widely. He sighs and felt slightly annoyed that the fun has to be interrupted.

“I should go. You seem to have a busy day.” he turns his heels and started heading towards the door, like as if he didn’t just pulled that stunt.

Just in time, your secretary opened the door and Sunghoon glanced at you for the last time, flashing you a very meaningful smile.

“I really had enjoyed this session, Doctor. I’ll see you on monday.” and he sent a wink before finally leaving you a whole mess, the space between your thighs dripping wet wanting nothing but to feel more of him.

#enhypen #slutofpsh #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen park sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon hard hours #enhypen sunghoon smut #enhypen sunghoon

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mawlaeina · 4 months ago

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Childe is a family man.

Of course he loves his current family—so much that he spoils them everytime he comes home to Snezhnaya.

But recently he’s come to a point where he’s thought of making a family of his own. Sadly, he’s been too busy with his work as a harbinger to even find someone he wants to get to know better.

That all changed though when he saw you comforting Teucer at the lake nearby his family cabin.

When he came to the lake, he wasn’t expecting hearing the sad sobs of his younger brother Teucer. Instinctively, he began to run through the snowy terrain and towards where the cries were coming from.

There he saw you, panicking and reassuring Teucer (albeit timidly). Teucer had clung to you, hugging you tightly as he cried his eyes out on your shoulder, and there you were—knelt to the young ginger’s height as you embraced him, softly patting his back to soothe whatever was ailing him.

Something ticked inside Childe’s head, and before he knew it he was walking towards you with a glint of interest in his eyes.

Childe called out to Teucer, and Teucer let go of you to rush over to his older brother. It put a smile on Childe’s face knowing he was still his younger brother’s favorite. You stood up, and both of you introduced each other.

You say that you were new, having just moved into the neighborhood from Liyue. Currently, you began to work as a tutor for the neighborhood kids, adding that you’ve always liked kids and wanted to help and see them grow up. It gave you such a fulfilling experience.

Oh, you had no idea how that statement made Childe’s blood rush to his head… and pants.

He smiled, saying that he also liked kids, his younger brother Teucer in particular. He asks how you managed to meet Teucer since he usually just stays inside playing with the Mr. Cyclops toys that Childe gave him everytime he returned. You reply that you visited his family cabin because his mother invited you over after helping her with some groceries before.

Teucer randomly began to mention how his brother was single—much to his own brother’s surprise. Who taught him that? Childe thought as he awkwardly laughs it off in front of you, though he secretly hoped you’d take interest in such a topic.

Before any of you could even say another thing, Teucer began to go off again, talking to his brother how pretty you were, and how he liked and wanted you to be another one of his big sisters. You were flattered of course and chuckled at the cute ramblings of the kid.

You asked Childe if this was a normal thing, and Childe responded that he doesn’t usually do this. You began to talk to each other, and Teucer seemed to notice how the two of you got a long so well so quickly.

So he asked you the million dollar question.

“Hey, will you marry my big brother Ajax?” He asks abruptly, stunning you and Childe momentarily.

A blush forms on your cheeks as you began to laugh bashfully, scratching your cheeks with a finger, unsure of how to respond to the child without sounding too bad.

“Uhm… Teucer, we just met.” You say to the young boy.

“But you’ll marry him, right?” He seemed so excited at the thought, and Childe was as well, though he decided to laugh it off.

“Teucer, don’t get too excited now. No one’s rushing for me to get married.” Childe tells his younger brother kindly, though Teucer only pouts.

Oh, but the plans that Childe began to have in his head after Teucer mentioned marriage. He definitely saw a possibility that he could spend a future with you.

Maybe give him some time, get to know him. You’ll definitely find yourself spoiled rotten in the future by this handsome Snezhnayan bachelor.

✦ I’m not obsessed with him, I’m not obsessed with him, I’m not-

✦ happy birthday to my dearest darling harbinger and husband

[Good lord I just wanna pamper him with kisses in the face]

#childe #ajax #tartaglia #childe x reader #ajax x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact childe #genshin impact tartaglia #genshin impact ajax #teucer #Snezhnaya #teucer being a crybaby and wingman #BIG BROTHER AJAX #greatest toy salesman in Snezhnaya #childe | genshin impact/reader #short fanfiction #i love him sm #HAPPY BIRTHDAY GINGER BOY

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flemingsfreckles · 8 months ago

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Physio’s Daughter

Jessie Fleming x Physio!Reader

Preview: Reader is following in her mother’s footsteps in becoming a physiotherapist and gets the opportunity to spend the afternoon with the Canadian women’s soccer team.

Warnings: none

WC: 3.7k

A/N: this is going to be a few parts

You couldn’t believe you were attending ‘bring your kid to work day’ with your mom as a 22 year old but here you were, in the car on the way to her work.

“Are you sure I’m not too old to be coming with you?” You questioned your mom.

“It’ll be just like going to your clinical rotations. Plus you can put it on your resume, so it's really just helping you.” That’s how your mom had tried to convince you that you’d have fun coming to work with her. “Plus I talked with my boss, he said as of now we have an extra spot on the physio team to take someone to the Olympics, if you do well today, maybe it could be you.”

“Wouldn’t you want someone who's more qualified, not just a student?” You were in the process of obtaining your certification as a physiotherapist. You had finished your bachelor’s degree and were in the middle of your post graduate athletic therapy program.

“We have all the staff we need, they think bringing on someone young might be good. The players might like having someone closer to their age, not just all 40 and 50 year olds on their staff. Plus you’re plenty qualified, we have students in and out of the facility all the time.”

As a kid you always tagged along with your mom, you didn't have much of a choice, having a single mom who worked late hours in secondary schools meant your evenings were spent in her training room or on the sidelines of games. The older you got, the less you went with your mom, opting to stay home or spend time with friends instead of accompanying her at work. When you moved out to go to university you had chosen to follow in your Mom’s footsteps, intending to become a physiotherapist as well. At the same time you moved out, your Mom took on a new job, one that allowed her to travel more, a job with the Canada’s Women’s Soccer Team.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to spend the day with your mom, you were interested in seeing her work, it was more that you knew you'd be the oldest “kid” who was at her work, a lot of her other staff had either young children or kids that had moved away and were on with their own lives.

The ride to the training facility was short, you got out of the car, and walked into the front door. You followed your mom around the facility, having no idea where to go. She walked you down and around various hallways, saying hello to the other staff who passed with their small children. You just would give a polite hello and a wave before continuing down the hall.

It was a weird feeling, walking into a room of players you recognized from TV, players who were well known across the country and the world, and yet they greeted your Mom with a hello and questions about her weekend, as if they were friends.

“That is my daughter, she thinks she's too old to be here but she's studying to be a physio too so I figured I'd bring her here and get some free labor.” You hear your mom joking with the two players standing in front of her, she's pointing at you over her shoulder and the two players who you recognized to be Janine Beckie and Ashley Lawrence were looking over at you. You politely wave and move over in their direction.

“Hi.” Not knowing what to say to them, you just keep it short.

They both introduce themselves to you, you assume just being polite of them, it would be hard to not know who they were. One of the other physios comes in, taking Ashley to get taped, your mom taking Janine to work on her knee. Not sure what to do with yourself you just stand back, as if you were back to being a shy 6 year old in a new environment hiding behind your mom. You watch your mom work, she moves effortlessly, doing tasks in seconds that would take you minutes. You always admired your Mom at her work but you had a new appreciation now that you had begun school and realized how much work and time it took to learn everything.

Players come and go, getting various treatments, keeping the staff busy. You watch around, seeing the rest of the staff, how they work with the players, how they all seemed so relaxed and at ease.

“Hi Jessie, how are you, what do you need today?” Your mom looks past you toward the door where Jessie Fleming had walked in. Obviously you knew who she was, her olympic heroics from many years ago making her a Canadian household name. On top of her soccer talent that drew your attention as a kid, her appearance definitely didn't hurt. You had always found her pretty, a silly little school girl crush when you were younger watching her on TV as she played as a teenager, something that you had forgotten about over the years but her standing in front of you brought it all back up.

“Hi, I’m doing well. Can I just get my calf worked out? I’ve been having some tightness.” She looked at your mom, a polite smile across her face, she pointed at the empty table as she asked.

“Can you handle that?” You realize your mom is looking at you, asking you to help with Jessie as the rest of the staff is held up with other players. She’s asking you to help

“Um, yeah, sure.” You weren’t going to say no, plus you could handle a simple massage.

“Jessie, this is my daughter, she’s a physio student and plenty qualified to massage your calf, I promise.” You roll your eyes at your mom’s comment, feeling embarrassed that she has to explain that you’re able to help. You wash your hands and walk over to the table Jessie had sat down on.

“Hi, I’m Jessie.” She introduces herself, her hand extended for a handshake, you can't help but let out a small laugh at the fact that she of all people is introducing herself.

“I know who you are.” Your hand meets hers taking her handshake and you quickly introduce yourself to her. Her hand is soft but her handshake is firm, it only lasts a second before you pull back, pointing to her legs.

“Which calf?” You look at her. She points to her left before taking off her sock and she rolls over onto her stomach shifting up the table so that just her foot is hanging off the edge. You grab lotion and rub it into your hands before placing your hands slowly onto Jessie’s leg. You take a few passes of your hands over her leg before starting to dig into the muscle. It doesn't take you long to find the knot that is resting in her leg, focusing on it. You feel Jessie clench her muscle and slightly pull her leg away. You quickly lighten the pressure you were putting on her and you look at the direction of her face. You see a small grimace across her face.

“Are you good?” The last thing you want is to hurt the captain of the team, that probably wouldn't go over well with anyone.

“Yeah it's just sore. I’ve had some previous injury with it.” You knew that, you knew about most of the players' previous injuries, they were publicly announced anyway and you liked to keep up with your mom on what she was doing at work.

“Sorry.” Not sure if it's appropriate to apologize, you do it anyway.

“Oh don’t be, it’s never been a huge injury so I’m lucky. Unless you were saying sorry about the soreness, but then don’t worry, it’s sort of a good hurt I guess.” She stumbles a bit with their words, looking back at you over her shoulder. With her confirmation that the pain wasn’t bad, you return your pressure to her leg, working your fingers deep into her skin.

“Is she doing alright Jessie?” The voice of your Mom comes from behind you, you turn to see her walking up toward you, finished with the other athletes.

“She might be better than you.” Jessie laughs joking with your mom. “No but seriously she's doing great.”

“I taught her well then.” Your mom gives you a pat on the shoulder before walking away and moving to a desk to do some paperwork.

You finish up with Jessie’s calf, letting her know she should be good to go, the knot being worked out. She stands up with a smile and thanks you for the help. She uses your name when she thanks you which causes a small blush to come across your cheeks. You can't keep your eyes off of her as she walks out to head to the field. When she turns the corner and out of your sight you shake your head, trying to clear your mind as you feel the small childhood crush come crawling back up.

You clean up the table you had been working on, putting the lotion away and wiping down the table with sanitizer. Moving over to where your mom was working, she was completing reports for each of the players who had come in for treatment, she passed them to you to file once she’s completed with them. When the paperwork is done you follow her out to the pitch. You find yourself sitting on the bench, watching as the players work through drills, your mom occasionally going to chat with the coaching staff or other physios.

You couldn't help but watch Jessie, watching how effortlessly she made moving the ball look, how much power and control she had on the ball, it was fascinating. On a couple of occasions you found yourself admiring her physique a little too much, watching as her muscles twitch with every movement. You also started to notice she was favoring her weight on her right leg the longer practice went on.

“Mom.” You get your mom’s attention, not wanting to make the call yourself on if Jessie’s movements were unusual. “Does Fleming usually favor her right leg?”

“What?” She moves over closer to you, looking out to the field in the direction of Jessie. You both watch as Jessie takes another pass, moving upfield with the ball. “Oh, no she doesn't, I mean she prefers her right foot, but not like that.”

At the next water break you see your mom sitting in front of Jessie, hand on her calf, you watch as they talk about your mom maneuvering her leg. When the team moves back to the field, the players and coaches bring out their kids, letting them join in on games. Jessie stays sitting, now talking with your mom and the coach. She then stands up, your mom following her in your direction.

“Can you take her inside? I want to be overcautious and treat her for a calf strain, heat pack, use the TENS unit, then have her roll out, ice and tape.” Your mom throws a laundry list of tasks at you.

“Of course.” You stand up, grabbing your water and phone from next to you before heading in the direction of the physio room.

“Sorry you're getting stuck with me again.” You apologize to Jessie, trying to make small talk with the girl and also hoping she doesn’t feel like she’s getting stuck with just the student again.

“Oh, I don't mind. I wasn't really joking earlier when I said you did a better job than your mom.” She gives you a smile, you feel the flutter in your stomach. Her praise is nice, but it's the smile that she's giving you that makes your stomach flip, it’s gentle and friendly. “Don't take that the wrong way, your mom is excellent, just it was different, you were more thorough maybe, I’m not sure, it was just different.” Jessie rambles.

“That's probably because I’m more nervous about messing up than they are.” You’re honest, you were doing everything to the exact standard, following the expectations you had been taught in class, yet to develop your own style.

“You’re nervous?” She seems surprised.

“I mean, wouldn’t you be, being brought into a professional sports team and being asked to help that team's captain while you're still a student? I mean I guess you’re usually level headed, penalty machine and all.” Thankfully you have half a brain to not throw in that the captain being attractive was definitely adding to your nerves.

“Oh believe me, I was nervous for those penalties but I’ve always thought nerves are good, they show you care. How much more school do you have?” She continues with the small talk.

“Just another semester. And then licensing tests, but just a semester of school.”

“That's exciting, do you know what you are going to do after that?” You make your way into the training room, holding the door open for Jessie to walk through.

“I don’t know, probably work at some secondary school to start, work my way up to bigger teams, I'll have to see what options I have. Go ahead and sit up on the table.” You point at the table at the end of the room as you move over to where the heat packs were stored. Jessie is sitting on the table, watching you when you turn around. You lift her foot, placing the heat pack on the table before placing her calf down on top of it.

“Is it still just sore or is it more sharp now?” Turning the conversation back to a more professional topic away from the small talk about yourself.

“Just sore, feels like a sore muscle.”

“You know, it's nice to actually meet you finally.” When you give her a confused look, she continues “I just mean your mom talks a lot about you.”

“Oh that's embarrassing.” You regret saying it as soon as it comes out of your mouth, you loved your mom, you know you shouldn’t be embarrassed about her talking about you.

“No, it's actually really sweet, I hope my parents talk about me even half as much as your mom talks about you. She’s so proud of you. You're her world.”

“Yeah, I know, it was always just the two of us. I know she misses me when I’m at school, I feel bad leaving her sometimes.” You look down, then realize youre probably giving way too much information to someone who likely doesn't care. “Sorry, I don't mean to talk about my personal stuff.”

“No problem, I don't mind, it's nice talking to you,” she quickly corrects her sentence “to someone closer to my age.”

You pull up a stool and sit with Jessie while she uses the heat pack. When the heat pack starts to cool off you slide over and start digging around for the TENS unit your mom recommended. When you’ve opened your third cabinet and had no luck finding it Jessie speaks up.

“They keep the TENS over there.” She points across the room to a different cabinet. You push up off the stool and move over to where she pointed, opening a drawer and finding it quickly.

“Sorry, I obviously don’t know where anything is, I didn't have time to really get acclimated this morning.” You feel embarrassed, already feeling inferior being the student but now being clueless and having to have Jessie tell you where everything is.

“That’s alright.” She reassures you. You move back and attach the pads onto her calf, turning the machine on low and handing her the controls and tell her to leave it on for 10 minutes. She messes with the controls of a second before setting down the remote and slightly leaning back, her arms propped behind her. Not knowing what to do with yourself you stand up and move over to the other tables where rolls of tape, bandaids, scissors, and various other tools used by the trainers are askew. You tidy up, finding where things belong through your own searching.

“So what do you do outside of school?” You had gotten used to the silence that Jessie’s voice breaks.

“Well school takes up most of my time, I wish I could travel more, I miss going to new places, seeing new things. But unfortunately school turns me into a pretty boring person.”

“Maybe you’ll get a travel experience this summer eh?” You turn at her, you’re assuming she’s implying going with your mom to Paris for the Olympics. “Your mom mentioned she wanted you to come with the team.”

“Yeah she said something about it to me, I mean I’d have to have her boss, Mark, pick me, I think there’s a few people they’re looking at for the trip. She thinks it’ll be a good experience for me for future jobs. I know it would look good on a resume and all but I also don’t want to get the opportunity just because my mom is here.”

“If it means anything you have my vote, the other people have been boring.” Jessie quickly says. “Sorry that’s not what I meant. I just meant, you’ve been the best one they’ve tried out. You care the most, at least it seems like you do. Plus you’re easy to talk to, the rest were too caught up on work, some of them stressed me out just being around them. And no one else was as observant. Your mom mentioned you were the one to see I was putting my weight off center, that’s why it’s important to have fresh eyes.”

“Yeah, I just happened to be watching, I get told I’m observant a lot.” You move your hands to take the TENS unit off of her gently peeling the pads from her skin. You move to grab her the foam ball across the room, tossing it in her direction. Jessie tried to catch it, it bounces off her hands, into her face and then onto the floor.

“Oh my god sorry, I didn’t mean to throw it that hard.” You throw your hands in her direction apologizing. Moving quickly across the room you pick up the ball where it had rolled before gently placing it in her hand.

“Nope, that was my fault. There’s a reason I play a foot sport.” She laughs. Her laugh is beautiful, it fills the room momentarily. It makes you feel light inside.

Just as she moves to the floor to begin rolling out her calf, the training room door opens and in comes the loud crowd of her teammates. They move in all directions across the room, some moving to the ice bath, some moving to grab heat packs. Some move to take off tape, tossing it in the trash. It’s loud, conversations in every direction and you’re quickly swept away, your arm being pulled by your mom as she moves you over to where the ice cooler was. You’re instructed to make ice bags for the players who want them and help them wrap the ice wherever they want it. It’s an easy task but it takes you away from Jessie, no longer having the quiet privacy of the training room.

You wrap arms and legs and shoulders and backs and feet with ice. You can’t help but keep glancing at Jessie, she was still rolling her calf, chatting with her teammates as they walked by. On a couple instances you caught her looking back at you, she’d give a quick smile before looking away. You finish the last player requesting ice and when you look up Jessie is now sitting on the table with Mark, he’s taping her calf. A small part of you feels jealous, which is insanely stupid you tell yourself, she’s his player not yours, he’s the head trainer, you’re not even one, it should be him doing the work.

Only a few minutes later, Jessie hops off the table, giving you a wave and a shout of thanks before leaving the room. Only staff remained, the rest of the players on their way home for the day. You finish cleaning up, asking your Mom a couple of times where everything belongs, making sure nothing gets put away in the wrong place.

It feels like time has flown by in the eight hours that you have been at the training center, before you know it you’re headed out to the car with your mom, the same way you came in this morning.

“Mark wanted to extend the offer for you to spend the rest of the summer here, and for the Olympics. He’s going to give you a call tomorrow, but he gave me a heads up. It can probably count as some clinical work for school, he said he’ll just have to get the paperwork sorted. Something about high praises from a certain team captain.” Your mom nudges you with her shoulder. You look at her and you can tell she’s being suggestive with her wording.

“What?” Your cheeks begin to flush slightly. “You’re the one who kept sticking her with me.”

“I know, I also know you had a little crush when you were younger.” She teases. You just roll your eyes, not wanting to give yourself away.

“Oh my god mom that was years ago, she’s not my type.” It was true, your dating history was littered with blonde preppy girls with terrible personalities, quite literally the opposite of Jessie. Hoping that fact would help your argument that you didn’t still have a crush on Jessie and it seemed to as your mom dropped the topic.

“I know honey, I’m only kidding you. You can drive, I’m tired.” She places the keys in your hand. You don’t mind driving, you turn back looking at the facility, realizing you could be spending your summer everyday here didn’t sound like too bad of an idea.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming imagine #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt

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hardlyinteresting · 2 months ago

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Lemon drops

Jake Seresin x reader

Nights at The Hard Deck just got a lot more interesting.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, The reader is referred to as she/her, with no physical description, (please let me know if you'd like me to tag anything please), I grew up in an Army household so some of my Navy knowledge may be slightly off base (no pun intended)

This one-shot will exist in the same universe as other one-shots I have planned. But, they can all be read entirely independently.

Word count: 1.3K

Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler

Friday nights at The Hard Deck are always busy. Sailors and pilots all stopping by on their way home from base eager to let loose, that's to be expected. What he's not expecting is to walk in on a bachelorette party in full swing.

In a Navy town, it's not completely unheard of for last-minute bachelor and bachelorette parties to fill the local dives, but the larger-than-normal crowd and the young woman dancing on one of the tables has Jake rolling his shoulders back before he settles into the night. He'd been looking for a chill vibe, a cold beer and a few rounds at the pool table. But, he won't complain about a night of flirting, he fancies his odds in a room full of jealous bridesmaids and tag chasers.

Rooster and Coyote seem to have gotten a head start if the empty glasses, or the girls they're helping line up shots at the pool table are any indicator.

Leaning against the bar Jake waits patiently for Penny to finish making a tray of shots. Lemon-coloured liquid poured from the silver shaker he's so rarely seen used at The Hard Deck, into sugar-rimmed 1 oz glasses. His eyes follow the tray over to the crowd of already tipsy ladies all dressed up to celebrate the blonde in her “bride” sash and tiara. But his attention lingers on the woman who laughs brightly as she raises the tiny glass for a toast.

“To the bride! I think I speak for everyone when I say that we love you so much, and we're all so excited for this next chapter of your life!” The rest of the party cheers in response, “Now, let's get drunk and start drinking something that's not just sugar”

She's quick to down the lemon drop shot, quickly licking the drip that rolls down the back of her hand. She's sun-kissed and glowing even under the dim overhead lights. She must be from the area, not just passing through. The music is loud and the bar chatter is louder, and she's stunning as she moves her hips to the sound stepping down from the table. She's licked away the sugar rim on the glass by the time she makes it through the crowd to lean at the bar next to him. It's only when Penny sets a beer in front of him that he realizes he's been staring at the mystery girl.

She's even cuter up close. And for the first time in a long time, he's speechless. Several recycled one-liners rattle around inside his head, but not a single one feels like it's worth the breath. Something about the way she moves through the room, either unaware or intentionally disinterested as several other patrons turn their heads to look her way, tells him she'll have no trouble shooting him down. Regretfully, it only makes him more intrigued.

And as if she couldn't get sweeter, the scent of her perfume or her shampoo, or the hell if he knows knocks him back. Brown sugar and vanilla. Of course, she smells like sugar. He scolds himself as he replays the image of her pink-tongued and unctuous in her attempt to clean the syrupy glaze dripping across the back of her hand. He may be a self-proclaimed flirt and widely identified playboy but he does do his best to be a gentleman. Despite his attempts to think of church surgeons, or his mother's lectures, geography lessons, or complex aerodynamics, he knows it will be ages before he's able to completely erase the surprising saccharine bar room sight from his mind.

“Whiskey, please,” she asks Penny, “and thank you for making those shots”.

“For you girls it's no problem,” Penny insists, sliding the glass of whisky across the bar.

If he bothered to look up he'd catch her raking her own eyes across his form, paying attention to read his name badge, and trace his pins in an attempt to keep herself from ogling his broad shoulders, and strong arms. The khaki uniform does him all sorts of favours. Penny gives her a knowing smirk as she slides the whiskey across the bar.

Unashamed, his eyes follow the intriguing girl back across the room lingering too long on the back pockets of her little denim shorts.

He's no stranger to wooing pretty girls in bars. He won't brag, but he's got an admirable success rate when it comes to finding a partner for the evening (and he's never heard any complaints). But, something about this girl is different. She's not just pretty, but she's stunning in a girl-next-door kind of way that damn near knocks him off his feet. The way she talks with her friends, and laughs without hesitation has a smile forming on his own face and he feels like a damn idiot for watching her from across the room. She pays no mind to any of the pilots or other patrons who mosey over to shoot their shot with her and the rest of her party, but she accepts every challenge that comes her way at the dartboard and the pool table.

“What's wrong hangman? Cat got your tongue?” Penny laughs, “I was sure you were going to try to chat her up”.

The truth is for the first time in a long time he feels like he might be out of his depth. Like a schoolboy with a crush on the new girl in class.

“The night is still young,” he shrugs.

But the night flies by, he drinks his beers, and laughs with his own friends, makes his own bets, but never crosses the room.

She buys her own drinks, and corrals her drunk friends safely into the backs of taxi cabs, calling out for them to text her when they get home. And when closing time rolls around she settles her tab and says goodbye to Penny with a hug, and a reminder that she'll see her later.

Jake goes home alone, the thought of the sugar sweet girl on his mind.

When he returns to The Hard Deck next it's a week later. He saunters in with a grin. a bet with Rooster and Phoenix waiting to be won at the pool table, and an ice cold beer with his name on it calling for him.

He heads to the bar first, leaning waiting to be served when he smells the hauntingly familiar smell of vanilla sugar. He's damn near certain his heart stops when she turns around behind the counter, a megawatt smile on her when she says, “hey, what can I get you?”

“Whiskey. Neat. Thanks Sugar,” the name rips off his tongue before he can stop it.

“Coming right up hot shot,” she laughs.

“It's ‘Hangman’, actually. But you can call me Jake”.

She hums, setting his glass in front of him, “you were in here last week, weren't you”?”

“Sure was,” he confirms, allowing himself to memorize the way she leans back against the middle counter, her arms crossed; so calm and so cool. He suddenly feels the need to swallow hard, his cheeks warming under her directed gaze.

“You won a lot of money off of my friends,” he offers when she says nothing else.

She shrugs, “it's a habit I can't seem to break”.

He hopes she never does. Watching Payback and Coyote empty their wallets had been the highlight of his week.

“Well, maybe when your shifts over, you can come and try your luck with tonight's crowd, Sugar,” Jake offers. It's a feeble attempt at flirtation compared to his usual routine, but none of his words seem to be coming out right, his mind going blank each time he looks at her in her jeans and white tank top. Thoughts of lemon drop shots, short shorts, and table dancing fill his mind. Suddenly he's 13 again, asking a girl to the school dance with a racing heart.

“I'm here ‘til closing,” she tells him, saving him from his spiral. She sorts her station and wipe down the bar top, “but don't worry, I'll be able to watch you show off from over here”.

And with that she gone again, moving down the bar to help another customer.

Nights at The Hard Deck sure just got a lot more interesting.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin fic #Pour me another drink

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dreaming-of-lu · 9 months ago

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A thought that I shared with a couple of mutuals, cause I cannot shut up about Stardew Valley right now. Imma mix mash my favs together and make y'all spiral with me.

You, the only beloved grandchild of your grandfather, was given a letter by your grandfather who was on his last leg, filled with information regarding his left behind farm and cottage in your name. He told you when the day comes that when you've grown tired of the city and yearn for a life free from the shackles of the ever growing demand of corporates and nonstop hustle bustle. The farm and cottage will be waiting until you are ready. Years passed and of course, you become tired, exactly what your grandfather told you would. With no thoughts to spare to the city you left behind and little clothes on your back. Quitting your job, you head towards Pelican Town.

The mayor was friendly, save for the carpenter that definitely made you laugh until she made a jab at your grandfather's cottage. While you could agree, since it's honestly not much, yet you'll make do with what you got for now and add things on later. However, the slight pang went through your heart at the disrespect she gave to him. Before the mayor could set off, he highly encouraged you to introduce yourself to the entire town. He then goes over with you about the shipping container, what to put in there while handing you a sack filled with parsnip seeds. He also gestures to the tools he was able to get you that were sitting on the porch, with a wordless pat of good luck, he sets off down the road back to the town.

MEET OUR BACHELORS

First: Single (Bachelor)

Meeting First was quite quick since the man was known to be busy and quite on the run to get things done before heading back to the adventurer's guild that his great uncle runs. He was short in his greetings to you and apologized swiftly that he had to be somewhere.

It may not seem like it, but this man is definitely a poet with words. Chivalrous, that had his great uncle playfully rolling his eyes at his nephew.

Yet there's something underlying mysterious about him that drew you in to him. Perhaps you should gift him things and get to know him a little more better!

Sky: Single (Bachelor)

The eldest son of the carpenter! He lives down southeast of Lon Lon Ranch. He's the absolute sweetest person you've ever met in your entire life. The bright smile on his sleepy face had you mentally cooing at him.

He carves, paints, builds little bird houses just like what his mother use to do. He definitely decorates his home each time the season changes, it's so damn adorable.

He's single due to a breakup that did not end on good terms unfortunately. While he still respect her, however, there are things that were said that ended up hurting the other.

Four: Single (Bachelor)

The grandson of the blacksmith. He was working behind the counter when your fresh face entered the shop. Obviously, a little put off since not many people tend to flock to Pelican Town. He's a bit shy yet he makes small talk just to get to know you better. Until his grandfather emerged and the look on his face had him laughing.

Yeah, he ain't laughing anymore when his grandfather told him 'that's the kid you used to play with all the time when you were younger.'

He takes the tools you got and upgrades them or process the geodes that you tend to bring in.

Time: Single (Bachelor)

The working left hand man of Lon Lon Ranch. This man scared the absolute shit out of you when he showed up on your front porch that morning. To open a door to a towering, one eye, scarred man was not on your bingo card of shit you witness while living here.

He was straight to the point of who to come to when buying animals whenever you get your barn and coop up n going.

He's someone you want to be careful around, an anger you do not want aimed towards you. That mask you saw sitting on his belt felt ominous. He's hard to get warm up to.

Twilight: Single (Bachelor)

You were just planting the parsnip seeds when you heard a bark come from behind you and yelling from someone telling to 'Come back!' A black and white dog ran up on your porch with its tail wagging a mile a minute. A cute dirty blonde haired male came jogging up with an exasperated look before realizing you were the new farmer there.

He was embarrassed yet quickly introduced himself. The adopted son of Uli and Rusl's, the older brother to Colin and his soon to be born little sister. He also works at Lon Lon Ranch.

He's hiding something.

Hyrule: Single (Bachelor)

The doctor of the town. A shy sweetheart that introduced himself to you after you came in due to an already early incident on the farm. He scolds you gently for doing something stupid and rash.

May or may not have told you one day that he wasn't getting enough patients which affected his pay heavily.

Man has unprocessed trauma.

Wild: Single (Bachelor)

He runs the saloon, all by himself, save for his friend Flora does tend to come help him to keep things smooth and sailing when it gets packed. He was friendly enough to introduce himself to you when seeing you pass him on your way to Ravio's General Store.

He def encouraged you to take a load off once and awhile to relax in his Saloon.

He doesn't remember his old life, it seems like he doesn't want to either way.

Warriors: Single (Bachelor)

The older brother to Wind and Aryll. House is on the beach and he's dramatic as hell yet he comes in later on year 2 of your life on the farm. He introduced himself first thing in the morning and he's a bit stiff about it.

He's the only soldier(?) in Pelican Town and ties to the city, he seems so tired and run down honestly.

He's doing his absolute best to raise Wind and Aryll after the funeral of their grandmother.

Legend: Single (Bachelor)

The lone wizard that "summoned" you to his tower to gift you the language of the Junimos. Just to be able to easily translate the language and to fix up the community center.

His sassy attitude def threw you off yet he's standoffish. Only asking you of things he needed from the mines.

He seems to be mourning something.

Ravio: Single???

The owner of Ravio's General Store. The sight of his bunny ear hat sat upon his head was the first thing that caught your eyes. His eagerness to greet you while showing you the package of seeds he was given, showing off the wares he gotten.

The sight of his broken heart made yours clench when one of the workers of Joja mart came in and declared loudly that things were on sale for 50% off. He's trying his best, but the income is needed.

Is finding ways to take down Joja Mart

-TO BACHELORETTES (To be added at some point-

#linked universe x reader #.bea's writing #lu x reader #linkeduniverse x reader #linked universe #link x reader #lu time x reader #lu first x reader #lu legend x reader #lu sky x reader #lu four x reader #lu twilight x reader #lu warriors x reader #lu wild x reader #lu hyrule x reader #ravio x reader #loz x reader #loz link x reader

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dlscenarios · 2 months ago

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Delicate

Benedict Bridgerton x f!reader SMUT

"Come here, you could meet me in the back"

Cw: SMUT, AFAB Reader + Reader wears period-typical feminine clothes, Ben catches feelings instantly (like an idiot), Why are all Bridgertons handsy, Vaginal Fingering, Pull Out Method/Coming on Stomach, Sex with Feelings, Is Vanilla a Kink?

I don't like this one as much as I liked Anthony's but I'm sure I'll write more for Ben eventually.

MDNI

It is oft said that second sons have more fun. They have the wealth and influence of a firstborn son, but they also have the freedom to behave in ways their elder brother could only dream of. This was the case with Benedict Bridgerton, second son of the late Viscount Bridgerton and only two years younger than the new one. While being one of the most eligible bachelors in London, he somehow manages to deflect wedding bells every time his eager mother brings around a single lady. He often escapes to White's for a stiff drink, but lately he has taken up going to parties thrown by the other unmarried men in the ton.

Benedict had never been a fan of Phillip Cavender — his soirées were always hit or miss — but tonight's actually seemed to be quite good for once. The spirits were high end yet no guest had thrown up the contents of their stomach thus far and the rooms didn't smell of sweat and sex. Of course, there was still the occasional couple in the hallway with their tongues down each other's throat, but the Cavenders' house had seen much worse based on the last few times Benedict had paid a visit. Though better than the last, the party was not exactly to Benedict's taste.

The only unwed Bridgerton brother — aside from Gregory who was not quite old enough for marriage — had just stepped outside with his glass to enjoy some fresh air when he heard a groan from the other side of the house. Benedict, though intrigued, decided not to butt in but subconsciously took a small step closer toward the sound. He took a sip of his drink before someone, supposedly the one that had made the aforementioned noise, stepped out from behind the wall, halting instantly once they spotted him.

You had been hiding on the side of the Cavenders' house, having been relegated there after the friend you had come with started getting debauched by a nameless lord in the hallway. It hadn't exactly been an unwanted change of scenery, the party had begun to take a turn for the worse when Phillip started chugging brandy straight from the bottle, but you would have preferred to gather your friend and flee had she not been taken up with someone.

When you rounded the corner, posture relaxed and hair freed from the coiffure it'd been in all night, Benedict's heart almost leapt out of his chest. He couldn't put his finger on why, but it had been the first time in his nearly thirty years of life that someone caught him so off guard. You took a startled step back, eyes widened after nearly running into the man.

You let out a small surprised squeak before clearing your throat. "Apologies..." you muttered, offering the stranger a quick nod of acknowledgment before turning to walk past him.

"Wait!" Benedict's mouth had worked before his mind. He couldn't let you leave. Something about you drew him in and after years of thinking he'd never feel the same flutter his siblings felt when meeting their spouses, a random partygoer gave him that exact feeling. However, now that he had your attention and you waited for him to speak once more, he couldn't think of anything that'd make you stay. Instead, he just gazed at you, studying every feature of your face, your hair, your chest...

"Sir...?" your voice came out meek but was enough to force Benedict back to earth. He blinked and straightened his stance, instinctively bitting his lip as he tried to think of what to say. Would a compliment be too forward? Too soon to ask for your time?

"Would you...care for a drink?" He immediately regretted uttering such a flubbed line.

Much to his relief, you tittered, "Sorry but I do not drink. Especially not at a party such as this."

Benedict nodded. There went his only idea...

You cut off his thoughts, "You seem familiar."

He looked up from the ground. "Do I?" He could track your eyes as they studied his appearance.

"You're a Bridgerton, aren't you?"

That made Benedict crack a nervous smile. Of course you'd clock him as a Bridgerton. Everyone in the ton knew his family and how they all shared the same features. "Can you guess which one?"

"Well...considering you are here and not with a wife, I assume you're Benedict. Unless you're the viscount hiding from the viscountess." Your smirk told him you were joking. If you knew Benedict's name, surely you knew enough about his brother to know he was too enamored to ever leave Kate's side.

He mirrored your smirk. "I assure you, I am not married." He paused briefly before asking, "Might I ask why you were out here alone?"

You sighed and pointed toward the Cavenders' front door. "My friend is in there. She's found some man to make her very happy, for turn of phrase."

Benedict let out an "ah" and leaned against the side of the house.

"Why are you out here alone?" you asked, clasping your hands in front of you.

"Not quite a fan of Cavender's parties. I only came because a few buddies asked me to."

"I am not a fan either. The man himself is so...distasteful. I do not understand why any respectable person comes here."

"What is your name, if I may be so earnest?" Benedict pipes in and the moment you answered, the very sound of your name became a tight yet comforting presence around his heart. It felt right, as if he had been searching for it all his life. He had never heard of you or your family before but meeting you hadn't felt like meeting the other strangers of the ton.

He couldn't even tear his eyes away from you, meeting yours as he suggested aimlessly, "Do you...wish to go inside? It is quite cold out here tonight. I'm sure we could find a room to stow away in."

It, in fact, wasn't "quite cold" at night in the middle of June, but Benedict chose not to correct his mistake either. You seemingly didn't care to call him out as well, as your reply came in the form of linking your arm with his, eyes still glued to each other's as he lead you through the house.

After escorting you into a vacant bedroom and shutting the door, Benedict downed the rest of the alcohol in the glass he'd forgotten about until then before setting it on a nearby table and sitting on the side of the bed, gesturing for you to sit next to him. His eyes trailed over your dress, taking in how it hugged you in places too improper to show off in any other occasion.

His hand subconsciously moved to rest on your thigh, just above your knee, as he spoke with a smirk. "Quite the dress..."

You smiled shyly. "My friend suggested I wear it."

Benedict seemed much closer than he had been five seconds ago, yet neither of you moved away. He replied lowly, "I should thank her then."

Without warning, Benedict leaned in and captured your lips with his. His hand squeezed your leg a little tighter when your hands moved up to his head, pulling him into you as you returned his kiss. His hand trailed up your thigh, aching to bring you closer if it were possible and, when he squeezed, you noticed how dangerously close he was to your ass.

Breaking the kiss, you pressed a softer one to his jaw before leaning back to meet his gaze once more. His own hand now cupped your cheek. Benedict leaned in again, this time resting his forehead to yours. Neither of you said anything, not wanting to ruin the moment with meaningless words, instead basking in the other's presence.

The air had changed and with it changed the way you saw the man holding you. Instead of Mr. Bridgerton, the most eligible bachelor and skilled eluder of the aisle, you saw Benedict, a beautiful, warmer soul than most men you had met in the ton. It left you wanting to know more of him. It left you wanting him.

As if on the same wavelength, the two of you leaned in once more, the hand he'd had on your cheek slipping into your hair as the kiss grew hotter. Benedict groaned into your mouth, instinctively rolling his hips into the air when you returned his moan. He broke the kiss, gripping your shoulder, softly panting against your lips.

"I want you..." he whispered, eyes shining as if he'd just then realized it. "I want you..."

Your hands held his face again, futilely steadying him when you felt the hand sliding along your back tremble.

"I need you..." Benedict muttered, pulling your lower half closer. "Please..." His hand trailed over your clothed leg again.

He could have blamed it on the alcohol had you declined. He would have accepted your decision, though shattering his heart, apologized and fled. Instead, he meticulously watched as you hiked up your skirt, bunching the fabric at your thigh. Without hesitation, Benedict slipped his hand under, passing your stocking and caressing the soft skin above it. His eyes looked up to meet yours, silently asking if you were sure. Your warm smile coaxed him into kissing you again, softer and sweeter than the two prior and ending much too soon, but then he pressed similar pecks to your jaw and neck. His thumb rubbed gentle circles on your thigh before moving up to squeeze your clothed breast.

Your breath hitched as he mouthed at your neck. The hand at your chest then groped your hip then finally rest on your ass. With another chaste kiss to your cheek and a limp tug to your skirt, he whispers into your ear, "Take this off. Lie on the bed."

Without wasting a second, after he pulled away, you reached back to unbutton your gown. Benedict's eyes were glued to your body as he followed your actions, throwing his coat and shirt to the floor in time with your dress. He helped you undress further, having to restrain himself from ripping off your stays. The moment your back hit the bed, Benedict was on you, caressing your newly-bared thigh.

Benedict lowered himself to capture your lips again. Warm hands slipped up your sides, one taking a breast into it as he planted another peck to your cheek, whispering breathlessly into your ear, "Perfect..."

His lips pressed a kiss below your ear before trailing down your neck, past your collarbone and stopping at your chest. He mouthed at your breast, showering the soft skin in languid kisses. The hand that once held one slid between your legs, the pads of his fingers wasting no time in circling your clit. You let out a gasped moan, instinctively curling into his hand. Benedict's lips met your jaw as nimble fingers rubbed just a little faster.

Your own hand, unsure of what else to do, sneaked up his shoulder and rested at the nape of his neck, guiding him in for another kiss. His tongue expertly clashed with yours when you felt a finger slowly push into you. Benedict swallowed your moan, unable to hold back one of his own as he felt your heat clench around him. He gently thrusted into you, thumb returning to your neglected clit. As your lips departed, a quiet smack echoing between your bodies, your hips rolled to match his movements.

The way your pleading eyes looked up to meet his almost broke Benedict's resolve. It was almost like an angel had fallen from heaven and landed right beneath him. He studied the way your lips parted to allow breathy pants to escape, the glass-like shine in your stare begging him for more, the way your back arched when he applied just a little more pressure to your bud. God, if he wouldn't kill to paint the very sight into the recesses of his mind.

Benedict was admittedly never a patient man — a trait all Bridgertons carried if his nearly thirty years of experience with seven siblings was any indication — so it should have come as no surprise when he started growing antsy. The ache in his trousers was growing harder to ignore and, with a dejected whine from you, he slipped his hand away to undo the buttons. Your eyes were glued to his newly bared form. Benedict resumed his position above, hands roaming your figure again. Everything about you was perfect.

His fingers dragged across your ribs, running warm, gentle lines over them as he whispered, "Are you ready?" He hardly heard himself, lost in his head, admiring your body in another once-over. However, Benedict heard your breathy "yes" clearly.

He took himself into one hand, holding the plush flesh of your thigh in the other as he aligned with your entrance. He slowly entered, breath hitching at the way your body welcomed him. Once he finally bottomed out, Benedict gripped your hips, blunt nails digging into them in a futile attempt to ground himself. He couldn't come before you, but the way you squeezed him, taking him as if created by God to do so, did not make that an easy feat.

Benedict was no virgin — hardly any man his age and status hadn't lain with someone — yet it suddenly felt as if he was. He gave an experimental, careful thrust, soon adjusting into a slow rhythm. As he gradually picked up speed, nearly resorting to recounting arithmetic from his schooling days to stave off the orgasm threatening to overtake him, one of his hands flew between your hips, thumb catching your clit once again. He needed you to come, needed to feel you tightening around him before he'd join you.

Maths could only do so much.

Yet, as if some higher power had answered Benedict's prayer, your back arched, muscles tensing and moans growing louder as your release hit. His thumb continued its assault on you long enough to guide you through your high, your toes curling and hands ripping into the silk sheets below.

Once your body retracted from his touch, Benedict pulled out, replacing you with his hand, your arousal dripping from his cock as he finished himself off, tightly gripping the pillow by your head. With a high moan, he painted your stomach with his spend.

He sighed and crumbled to the bed beside you, his hand resuming its spot on your thigh. Benedict laid back and stared at the unfamiliar ceiling. He never wanted to let go, he thought with a subconscious squeeze of your flesh. As he replayed the events of the past few minutes in his head, the pieces were falling into place. His heart picked up speed, the satisfied expression he wore falling as he realized what he felt for you.

Benedict turned to your side, seeing that you too had been reflecting on the night as you bore up.

He never wanted to let you go, and the way you looked at him when you finally noticed his gaze told him that this wouldn't be the last time he'd see you.

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton smut #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader smut #benedict x reader #benedict x you #benedict x y/n #bene #benedict bridgerton x reader smut #kinktober 2024

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snailmail444 · 3 months ago

Note

Can I get a headcanon of the bachelors and how they'd be sexy with you when you're down? Like, if they're trying to cheer you up and be a little goofy with it but also tryna HIT. THAT. 🤣🤣🤣

Thanks Snail, ILU.

Bachelors Goofing Their way Into Your Pants

18+ 🌱 MDNI 🌱 NSFW (-ish)

This one was a tough ask Libby but I’ll do nothing if not stand and deliver 🫡 Honestly might be my favorite head cannon list for the bachelors I’ve ever done so THANK YOU for this prompt icon. NSFW? -ish under the cut (lewd?? Idk lol)

Harvey-

💚 Perhaps the goofiest about this

💚 He would not try to come onto you when you’re down unless he KNOWS it’s going to pick you up

💚 So once he’s confident let’s start there

💚 It’s a song and dance

💚 Dissappears, and when he’s back he’s got his med kit

💚 He gets out the stethoscope and all. The whole nine yards.

💚 That’s right folks. We’re paging Dr. Love

💚 Will NOT let you stop this routine. Dr. Love WILL be completing the full assessment. Listening to your heart rate, checking your throat and ears, somehow always having to complete a chest exam

💚 (M or F he will be groping your tits for this one)

💚 The diagnosis is in

💚 There’s Only One Cure for What Ails You

💚 You guessed it! You need a little lovin’ (Dr. Love’s catchphrase)

💚 Important note: Dr. Love is not a licensed medical practitioner

💚 This works a little too well perhaps. He’s so confident for no reason at all LMAO

💚 Lowkey want to write a Dr. Love oneshot now because this is really fun and cute

Elliott-

❤️ If you’re feeling down man will preform the absolute worst ad lib poetry

❤️ Silliest lymrics you’ve ever heard

❤️ Dumb dumb dummmmmb

❤️ Very dirty and stupid bad poems about you

❤️ Specifically about his favorite parts of your body

❤️ Or his favorite things you do during sex

❤️ The worse it is, the better as far as he is concerned

❤️ Raunchy dirty filthy

❤️ But like. In the most grade school mother goose style he can manage

❤️ No flowery language here

❤️ Takes off your clothes to expose the parts of you the he’s referring to

❤️ When you do x thing (then tries to make you do x thing)

❤️ Will be proving his point. Period!!!

Alex-

🤎 Physical touch legend

🤎 Wrestles

🤎 Winner gets whatever they want from the loser

🤎 Has a wrestling name and all

🤎 Does the John Cena theme

🤎 His hands end up in all sorts of places that they don’t need to be

🤎 Most wrestlers aren’t grabbing ass 🤨

🤎 Gets you in some really tight, close pins, but somehow you end up winning anyway

🤎 No I didn’t let you win don’t be ridiculous I respect the sport too much to ever—

🤎 He let you win

🤎 You can take your prize now 😌 Whatever you want 😌

🤎 And if his hard on is pressing against you? Well. Maybe he has some ideas about what your prize should be

Shane-

💙 Gets you through the hard stuff first, so once you’re on the mend he’s goofing to the max

💙 KING FLEXER!

💙 Aw babe come on? How can you be so sad when you have these guns to look at?

💙 Runs through a series of absurd poses to show off his muscly farm boy arms

💙 Lays it on really thick about being a stud

💙 “No matter what at the end of the day you have a trophy husband” (even if he’s not married to you. ESPECIALLY if he’s not married to you)

💙 STRIP! TEASE!!

💙 Showing off everything you’re so lucky to have with a big goofy grin on his face

💙 Throwing his clothes across the room and everything

💙 Making the music sounds with his mouth

💙 You HAVE to whistle or hoot at him or clap or something

💙 He demands applause from his audience if he’s not getting some singles at least

Sam-

🩷 Another song and dancer

🩷 This man was born for the stage I fear

🩷 Genuinely and truly putting on a SHOW about it all

🩷 The drama of it. Uh oh, he’s compromised!

🩷 Will end up ‘stuck’ under the couch or table or anywhere else

🩷 Uh oh! I hope nobody takes advantage of me 👀 When I’m so exposed 👀👀 and vulnerable 👀👀👀

🩷 The worst stage acting you’ve ever seen in your life

🩷 Starts stripping in the middle of the living room because he “didn’t see you there!”

🩷 Pretends to be scandalized when you finally succumb to his advances

🩷 What are you doing?! Huh? What do you MEAN I was coming on to you? I always take off all my clothes in the kitchen, that’s ritual

🩷 insists he’s been objectified and taken advantage of

🩷 That kind of turns him on though let’s be so fucking real

Sebastian-

🖤 Okay so we’re going blunt king here

🖤 Two possible options

🖤 Uses it as a way to hard reset the system mid breakdown

🖤 Full crying, upset, whatever, he’s been holding you and trying to calm you down but it’s not working

🖤 “Wanna have sex?”

🖤 DEADPANNNNNN delivery

🖤 It never fails. Tried and true

🖤 Option two?

🖤 This is ONLY if mans is super comfortable in your dynamic

🖤 A classic

🖤 Whips it out

🖤 Thinking about that one tweet of the boyfriend who was in the mood and just put his dick on her shoulder while she was watching tv

🖤 Like that but buried under sixteen levels of irony

🖤 “I know what’ll help” and then he pulls his dick out

🖤 Probably the least likely to actually hit with these methods

🖤 However, he’s maybe the most likely to help improve your mood substantially

🖤 Through sheer presentation if nothing else. Man can deliver, and knows when to hit with the absurd to make it the most impactful

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luvly-writer · 4 months ago

Text

Crimes of a Mother

Ch. 1: She’s our shadow

Batfamily x Reader

-•-

Author’s note: I did NOT think this story was gonna get amount of love it did because i’m so insecure about it but wow!!! Thank you so much!!! I truly am grateful for your love for this! Thank you Thank you!! I think it will become a short series so if you’d like to be added to the taglist, leave a message! Here’s chapter 1, Enjoy!!!

Warning: English is not my first language

Taglist: (i’m starting the taglist with the people who asked for a part two <3) @nxdxsworld @give-jack-a-lightsaber @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @can-i-feel @n4muar

Masterlist:

-•-

Subject name: Yn Wayne Salazar

Age: 18

Mother: Valentina Salazar (alias, the Golden Serpent)

Father: Bruce Wayne (alias, Batman)

Skills: High level of expertise on criminal investigation, Bilingual, Photographic memory...

Weaknesses: [empty folder]

Education: [CURRENTLY UNDERGOING] Bachelor in Criminal Journalism

Motive for investigating: ???

———

-“Nghhhh”

Bruce mutters as he leans back and rubs his eyes. The Batcomputer displayed a series of pictures and the beginning of a subject report on Yn. The last few weeks have been interesting to say the least. After her visit to the manor, everyone aside from Bruce and Alfred had been curious on who this unknown girl and had been trying to get either of them to spill on who she was. Normally, they would have let it go by now, they reason (lies) ; but after seeing Bruce and Alfred pale as a sheet of paper, they knew this wasn’t just another of Bruces small secrets

After much perstering, Bruce finally caved in. (Barbara found Vals note as she was managing the commns. He left it there after having to rush out and stop Tim from strangling Jason and Damian for lacing his coffee with a laxative. In their defense, they are trying different ways to help Tim get more sleep and lay off coffee. In Tim’s defense, he had to miss two days of patrol because his stomach wouldn’t hold anything...alas, the life of a single father)

To say that it caused a raucus withing the family is an understatement. Jason, Stephanie, and Tim couldn’t stop laughing about Bruce having another kid. Barbara and Cass were just glad they had another girl in the family. Dick was contemplating whether he wanted to leave or stay for the drama and risk meeting another version of Damian. Duke was trying to console Damian who stayed in catatonic shock for a few moments seeing as he had an actual blood sibling. Bruce had figured that if he had all of them on the lookout for her, she would be safer plus, they would be able to get the largest amount of information about her together. This had proven to be somewhat difficult seeing as Valentina had made sure to leave no trace of her their daughter’s existence in Gotham.

The following weeks after the debrief were anything but boring. They had been made aware that they had a shadow during patrol. Tim, familiar with the situation, had taken note of it first. Yn was good. She kept hidden, had the stamina to keep up, and most of the time could almost accurately predict their next move. One time, Tim, Dick, and Jason had decided to go on a coffee run in the middle of a stakeout. They hadn’t seen her all night and decided to leave Steph, Damian, and Duke in charge while they went and ordered. Lo and behold, there she was in a booth in the back sipping some coffee and typing on her laptop. They hadn’t thought anything of it seeing as this coffee shop normaly stayed open till late hours of the night due to its proximity to Gotham University and students constantly went to study there as classes had started. It wasn’t until Dick made eye contact with her that he felt chills down his spine. Her eyes were trained on them like a predator to its prey, still, unmoving, and absorving everything. He had called out to Jason and Tim; and once they turned to look ate her, she was unintimidated by the three figures, with her head leaning on one hand and her other holding her cup. She raised a delicate eyebrow at them and just stared. They figured the girl had her mothers looks but good grace, she was Bruce Wayne’s Daughter. To be more specific, she was the Dark Knight’s daughter and her eyes were a key give away of that. Not even Damian, with all his devil spawness, could recreate that piercing gaze.

It wasn’t only as vigilantes. She would be seen with a notebook in the back of Bruce’s conferences and interviews, eyes cold, calculating and focused as she observed and wrote down. It was known she was targeting Bruce and he didn’t know whether to feel some sort of twisted pride or to be concerned.

Back in the present, Bruce had never felt so frustrated. Why was this kid here? Was this a cruel trick of fate where she was destined to cross his path? Was he finally believing in something as simplish as fate and destiny? What was her investigation? What did she wanna know? How much did she know? Was she sleeping and eating? Were her grades slipping? In a moment of fatherly worry he hacked into Gotham's system and found her students bio. Classes had started two months ago...it really had been two months since he had met her? Her grades were perfect. Exams aced, projects and homework all As, she had taken a few college credits in high school so she had advanced in some of her classes and skipped the basics. She truly was brilliant.

-“I finally get a Wayne in university who has the intention of finishing it.”

Exclaimed Alfred as he walked closer and interrupted his thought process. (He would forever be salty that neither his “son” nor his “grandkids´” had gone or finished college.)

-“She's a brilliant kid.”

-“Well she ought to be. If I remember anything about her mother, I'd be worried if she wasn’t”

He corrects and Bruce scoffs a laugh.

-“She’s been tailing us for weeks, yet not a single bad score.”

-“It almost sounds as if you’re proud, master Bruce”

-“I....I barely know her”

-“Let’s fix that then, shall we? Invite her over for dinner with the family. It is a possibility that all the questions that have you perplexed may find their answer if you get to know her and she begins to trust you”

-"Couldn’t this just be an ordinary investigation without any attachment?"

-“That is your daughter, master Wayne. Better her to be here and protected than out there for her other family to find her and make a move first.”

-“Nghh”

-“Such a cooperative answer, I shall notify the rest.”

----

For all of her bravado, Yn was nervous. It had been two months and a half since she had stepped into the manor. Charlie and Taylor had told her encouraging words as she dropped them off at their respective practices and headed for the Wayne house. She had tried to dress nicely and make a better impression that last time. Had Mr. Wayne seen her at the conferences? Did he know of her nightly investigations? Was he gonna tell her mom?

She parked her car and stepped out. Would dressing up and acting nicer make her look guiltier? She walked up the stairs and pressed the doorbell. She was working so hard on understanding her family and it wouldnt go to waste because of some pissy billionare. She heard some footsteps walking towards the door. She was not going to give up today.

-“Hello, miss Salazar, it is great to see you again.”

---

Dinner had been going great so far. You had been introduced to all of them at once and began small chatter. Everyone had been somewhat pleasant with her, trying to make her feel at ease. She had chalked it up to Mr. Wayne fulfilling some sort of favor her mother had asked of him to protect her and this actittud had passed on to his kids.

-“So, Yn, why Gotham?”

Asked Dick, which made everyone turn to her

-“Yeah, why this dumpster fire of a city?”

Laughed Jason

-“Well -she laughed- I have always felt a connection to Gotham. Like as if something was missing and I knew I would find it here. Ever since I was a child, it had always been my mom and I only, no other immediate nor distant family members. Mom would never talk about the city even though she’s from here and it made me wonder why. I mean, feels like there's a huge part of me that I dont know about and I would like to, even if my mom advices against it constantly. What if I find family here, you know? There's something out there for me and I know it is here. Not only that, Gotham U has the best Criminal Forensics and Journalism departments ever. Of course..that can be because of the high profile of criminality and the amount of rougues running around. My mom tried to advise that Star City and even Metropolis would work but they aren’t Gotham, you know. They don’t have the history, the profile, the exentric rougues, the vigilantes. I mean, who is the Dark Knight? Why does he inspire so much fear? Is he a friend or someone who could potentially face a dark turn? What is his history with his sidekicks? Why so many? Are they human? A failed experiment? Cryptics? It is all fascinating, wouldn't you agree?

They all digested her answer. They all understood and and could relate to a certain level. Her determination was admirable.

-“That's actually...not a bad reason to move to Gotham”

Damian spoke up, surprising everyone. Yn smiled in approval and thanked him shyly.

-“When did you begin to have a passion for investigating?”

He asked again

-“Well, I guess I was too into crime shows? Plus being good at it certainly helps”

She laughs making the rest chuckle

Dinner finished shortly after. Everyone had decided to exchange social media handles and say their goodbyes. Bruce walks her to the door and speaks up,

-“Listen Yn, I am sorry about the thing about your father. I really ca-“

-“I know. You are a good man, Mr. Wayne. I am sorry for being too upfront that day, I tend to be too pushy sometimes during an investigation. I appretiate your respect and care for my mother a lot but...that still won’t stop me. I will find out who is my family.”

-“Well...seeing as nothing can hold you back, I just wanted to let you that our doors are always open for you. You are always welcomed into our family.”

She smiled at the sentiment and he could feel it pulling his heart strings. This is his kid, literally his. She is his daughter.

-“Thank you, Mr. Wayne”

She said as she started to walk to her car

-“One last thing...about your father”

Yn had never turned around so fast in her life

-“Yes?”

The hopeful look in her eyes made him take a step back and consider his words lightly

-“I think...I think he'd be very proud of you. You really are an extraordinary kid”

Seeing the hope fade a little killed him but it was better this way

-“You think so?”

-“I know so”

Her eyes watered a little but she held back. She gave him a nod and a tight smile

-“Goodnight, Mr. Wayne”

-“Goodnight, kid”

———•———•———

I am always open to feedback so remember to leave a comment or a reblogs if you have any suggestions, comments or just want to be added to the taglist!

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