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mclqren · 8 months ago

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WINNER TAKES IT ALL ★ CS55

PAIRING ✦ carlos sainz x fem!singer!reader

SUMMARY ✦ you and your boyfriend both seem to be very lucky recently: you in opening for taylor swift, and him in winning the australian grand prix [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ cursing

REQUESTED ✦ here!

NOTES ✦ for the purpose of this fic, taylor has added an extra date in melbourne for the friday before the australian grand prix. as per request, the fc i've used is sabrina carpenter, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)

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liked by carlossainz55, taylorswift, and 3,055,971 others

tagged taylorswift

yourusername and with that we have one show left: back to melbourne in a couple of weeks! thank you all so much for the support, love you all like crazy 🫶

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user1 you're such a disney princess i can't

user2 DON'T MESS W ME RN IM SO SAD UR NO LONGER OPENING.

user3 FR what will we do without all of her content???

user4 ☹️☹️

carlossainz55 so proud of you!!

yourusername im way prouder of you 💘

user5 PARENTS WOOHOO

taylorswift i'll miss you, my angel! ❤️

yourusername love you sm 😢💘💘

yourusername

( caption one: just woke up and my boyfriend's got appendicitis hellooo?? wtf have i missed while i've been in singapore. | caption two: never mind guys all is well ❤️ ( i am a photographer and i took THIS photo ) )

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 3,281,119 others

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yourusername impromptu visit to jeddah after SOMEONE'S appendix was removed...thanks for giving me an excuse to see you carlos 😘💘💘

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user6 THE WAY HE STILL WENT TO SEE THE GP IS CRAZY ur boyfriend is hella strong

yourusername ur telling me 🤷‍♀️

user6 OMG YOU REPLIED??? I LOVE YOU

user7 nah carlos acc has to be some sort of super human because how THE FUCK did he walk after that surgery.

user8 literally convinced he is atp.

carlossainz55 the appendix wasn't my fault...

charles_leclerc or was it 🤷‍♂️

yourusername hmmm...

user9 i'm acc their biggest fan you don't understand

liked by carlossainz55, taylorswift, and 3,331,354 others

tagged taylorswift

yourusername from the bottom of my heart, thank you thank you thank you for all of the love and support i've received over the past couple of weeks. they've honestly been such a fever dream for me: like you're telling me that i was opening for THE taylor swift?? twelve year old me would be screaming right about now, let me tell you that much. i've loved every minute of this experience, and i can't wait to see what era is next for me 🫶

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user13 i still remember watching you when you were eighteen, just releasing music on youtube 🥺

user14 she's come sooo far since then im so proud of her

taylorswift loved having you with me!! couldn't think of anyone else better to keep me company during these times ❤️

yourusername thank you sm tay, im going to miss youuu 💘💘

user15 why am i acc tearing up this is so sad

carlossainz55 now i have you all to myself ❤️

yourusername yeah well you have ur cars AND charles so i guess it's not just me is it.

charles_leclerc why am i being mentioned

yourusername ur just like collateral damage in this argument

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 989,911 others

carlossainz55 back from my surgery and into P2 👊 looking forward to the race!

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user16 SMOOTH OPERATOR IS BACKKK

user17 the surgery did NOT hold him back

user18 NO REAL THE GUY WAS FLYINGGG

user19 the extra weight is gone and now he's in first row THIS IS WHAT WE NEEDED

yourusername do you ever actually rest like. ur appendix was just taken out when i get colds i stay in bed longer.

carlossainz55 yeah i know from firsthand experience 😘

user20 SHE'S SO REAL FOR THIS THOUGH

yourusername either way i'm so proud of you! smash it tomorrow 💘

liked by carlossainz55

user21 the way y/n is literally so supportive of him is my fav thing

user22 all whilst telling him off for not resting enough 🤣🤣 she's too iconic for us, i fear

liked by carlossainz55, fransisca.cgomes, and 3,215,984 others

tagged fransisca.cgomes

yourusername me and kika are truly THOSE BITCHES 😘

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user23 SPEAK ON ITTTT 🗣️🗣️🗣️

user24 my fav wags fr 🫶

fransisca.cgomes my girlll 😍😍

yourusername foreverrr 💘

fransisca.cgomes that second pic is soooo yum

yourusername leave pierre for me RIGHT NOW.

fransisca.cgomes gladlyyy! 😍

pierregasly HUH??

yourusername got ur girl tripod how does it feel 🤣

carlossainz55 ❤️❤️

yourusername love youuu!!

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 1,443,999 others

carlossainz55 P1 babyyy!! Onto Japan we go 🎢❤️

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user28 THE SMOOTHEST OPERATOR AROUND

user29 staying up until 2am to watch it was SOOO WORTH IT

user30 SO PROUD!!

yourusername YESSS I KNOW THAT'S RIGHTTT!!

liked by carlossainz55

yourusername MY FUCKING MANNN LET'S GOOO!! P1 BABY 💘💘

carlossainz55 ❤️

user31 the way she supports him will never not warm my heart

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 3,331,354 others

tagged carlossainz55

yourusername he only went and did it!! after his appendix got removed and all. couldn't be fucking prouder 💘

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yourusername proud of @/charles_leclerc as well!! what a way to end the weekend 😘

charles_leclerc thank you y/n!! 😍

yourusername FORZA FERRARI 👊

user31 the way they support each other >>>

user32 actual power couple idc

user33 i need to find myself a y/n asap.

user34 WHY ARE YOU SO PERFECT

carlossainz55 te amo siempre ❤️

liked by yourusername

carlossainz55 it was the lack of an appendix that did it 🤣

yourusername @/charles_leclerc are you taking notes??

charles_leclerc already scheduling an appointment for the winter, don't worry 📝

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motorsportbarbie13 · 22 days ago

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Forbidden - Part 5

In which you can't stand to be away from Max any longer

Warnings: descriptions of a crash, swearing (maybe?) Pairing: Max Verstappen x LeClercSister!Reader Word Count: 2.5k words (tiny note from me: I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the lovely feedback and comments. It's truly reinforced my desire to publish the novel I wrote this summer so I've started working on my edits for that<3 you all are such lovely human beings.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Master List

“FP2 is about to start, ma fille.” Your mother says gently, wiping her hands on the dish towel she was holding. “Do you want to watch?”

You look up from your computer, heart squeezing a bit at the thought of watching anything racing related right now. It’s race weekend in Zandvoort, the first race weekend back after summer break and also Max’s home race. You were supposed to be there for him and your brother this weekend but instead you were at home, in Monaco, with your mother.

You hadn’t gone to Croatia with your family, much to your mother’s dismay. She had tried to talk some sense in you, despite Charles’ protests. She had been absolutely livid with her son when she found out what he had done, how he had broken up something that was making you so happy. But in the end, Charles had won and you had skipped the entire thing, opting for a few weeks spent in London with a some college friends instead.

You had been miserable the entire time.

Meanwhile, in Belgium and then Italy, Max had spent the break equally as miserable. The thought of losing you before you had even really gotten started just ripped him further in pieces. He had respected your wishes though, staying away despite every bone in his body screaming at him to show up at your door and not leave until you realized you two were the real thing. No, he couldn’t do that. If he had learned anything about you in the months that you had been together, even just in secret, it was that you were stubborn and wouldn’t budge on something that you felt strongly about. He had seen that look in your eye the afternoon he walked out of your apartment. He knew he had to be patient and wait for you to come to him, otherwise he risked losing you forever.

Seeing him on the TV earlier this morning before the first practice session of his home race had sent your heart racing. You missed him so badly. More than you had thought possible. You could tell he was just as miserable as you were just by looking at him. Dark circles cast shadows under his eyes and he looked exhausted, not well rested like the rest of the drivers coming off a four week break.

It broke your heart.

But every time you thought about going to him, something that skittered through your mind, your brother’s words echoed in your head. You weren’t strong enough. You weren’t good enough. You couldn’t handle it. Max was using you to get back at Charles. Those thoughts flew through your brain at such a speed that the idea of going to him was out of the question. You simply didn’t feel brave enough.

“You’re going to put it on even if I say no, maman.” You say with a sad smile.

“Oui, bien sur.” Yes, of course. She replies with a smile, patting you on the shoulder as she passes by to pick up the remote control, switching on her F1TV app on her TV.

Your mother knew everything that happened, having gotten both sides from both of her babies. She had tried to remain impartial but at the end of the story, she had wanted to strangle Charles. He was being a stubborn idiot, everyone knew it but no one could seem to get through to him. She had never seen you so heartsick before, noting that every time Max was shown on TV earlier during the first practice stint that you perked up a bit, paying more attention to what the commentators said when he was discussed. She knew, just like Max did, that you wouldn’t be moved on this until you were ready though, so she kept her opinions to herself, determined to support you in whatever way you needed.

Your mother really was a saint among women.

Will Buxton’s face popped up when the coverage started and you sat, pretending to work on your laptop as you waited for the cameras to show Max. You didn’t care about Charlie, not at all. You weren’t sure how you were ever going to forgive your brother after all he said that afternoon, but currently, you weren’t interested in discussing anything with him.

“Max seemed to have a good session earlier.” Your mother comments, trying to gently open the door to talk about the man you were so clearly head over heels with.

You hum in response, quietly watching the coverage. On the screen, the cars are all on the track now. Max seemed to be struggling this session though, despite the smooth start he had earlier. The back of the car kept kicking out on the corners, and the speed just wasn’t there.

“I’m fighting this thing every step of the fucking way, GP.” He growls over the radio. The sound of his voice in distress sends cold shivers down your spine.

“Okay, we’ll figure it out. Give it a few more laps to sort itself out and then come back in, yeah?”

“Sure, why the fuck not.” He snaps.

You give your mother a look, eyebrows raised. He doesn’t usually get this snippy with GP this early in the weekend unless something was really off with the car.

“Oh this isn’t going to be good.” You mumble, closing your laptop so you can focus on the TV.

“And just like that, all the progress that Red Bull made in FP1 is erased. Max seems to really be struggling out there this afternoon.” Will Buxton says as Max slides around a corner.

“Come in next lap, Max and we’ll get this figured out.” It’s Christian on the radio this time and you know it’s bad. Christian only comes on the radio when GP has had it with the driver and needs someone else to reign him in.

But Max doesn’t get the chance to get into the pits. As he dives into the next corner on the track, his back end kicks out yet again but this time Max isn’t able to save it. His front tire hits the grass on the inside of the turn, causing him to lose all grip and control over the car, sending the car careening off into the fences on the opposite side of the track. The navy Red Bull car slams into the safety barrier at such an intense speed, you hear yourself scream before you can get your emotions under control.

You and your mother are on your feet, hands cupped over your mouths as you wait, breathless, to hear that he’s okay. It’s not a messy crash, only bits of the front wing are scattered about the track, but it was the speed at which Max went into the wall that concerns you.

“Maman.” You whisper, voice cracking in panic. “Oh, maman, he has to be okay.” Panic sings through your blood, desperate to hear his voice over the radio. Heart hammering in your chest, you take several steps closer to the TV, as if getting closer to it will provide you with a better view.

Next to you, your mother puts a calming hand on your shoulder, giving you a squeeze. You both have seen nasty crashes before, it’s something that you almost expect every weekend but when they do happen, it’s still a shock to the system. You can’t bare anything happening to Max before you’ve had a chance to reconcile.

Tears spring to your eyes thinking about the last time you spoke to him, how you pushed him away when he so desperately wanted to be there for you. How he had stayed when even your own brother had abandoned you, bruised ego being more important than his own sister.

“Max, you okay?” GP’s voice rings out over the radio.

“Ye-yeah, I’m okay.” Max grunts.

A wave of relief washes over you, a welcome cool splash that calms some of your panic. You stumble back towards the couch, collapsing on the cream cushions, chest heaving as the adrenaline seeps from your body. “Oh my God.” You whimper.

“He’s okay, ma fille. He’s okay.” Your mother murmurs into your ear, sitting down next to you, wrapping you in a gentle hug.

“I need to go see him.” The words are out of your mouth before you even have a chance to consider what you’re saying.

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Six Hours Later

Max couldn’t recall the last time he had a worse start to a weekend than this. He knew why, of course. It wasn’t the car, even though the car was absolute shit but he’s usually able to overcome a shit car and perform better than the rest of the field anyway. That’s why he’s Max Verstappen. No, the weekend started off so poorly because he had been so distracted. He’s never gotten into the car this distracted and distraught before and it cost him this afternoon during the second free practice. He had binned the car straight into the wall because the only thing he’s been able to think about for the past three weeks is you.

His entire body hurts as he gets out of the car that evening. He had tried to stay with the mechanics and engineers while they put the car that he wrecked back together. They were going to take a grid penalty for working on the car after curfew, so his weekend was fucked either way. But as the clock approached 11pm, Christian had finally pulled rank and sent him back to the hotel to get some rest.

It was simply the last place he wanted to be though. A quiet hotel room with nothing else to do but think about what had happened today and how fucked he was if he couldn’t get his shit together before Sunday? No thank you. He wanted nothing to do with that. He had considered telling the driver to take him to whatever the closest bar to the track was but he knew Horner would have an absolute conniption if he did that. So instead, he decided to behave and had let the driver take him back to the hotel.

Thankfully, there aren’t any fans waiting as the driver pulls up to the front doors of the hotel. It’s late and most everyone is already back in their hotel for the night, resting up for the last practice and qualifying tomorrow. Max is thankful for that, so he doesn’t have to see anyone. The lobby to the hotel is quiet as well, only the night concierge and front desk clerk on duty.

His steps are soft as he shuffles across the white and gold marble floor towards the elevators. To his left, there is a group of chairs and couches gathered for people to sit on while they wait and he’s surprised to see that there’s someone there, settled in a couch facing away from him. As he gets closer though, the hair that tumbles down around the woman’s shoulders sends a squeeze of pain shooting through his chest. It’s the color of your hair. Fuck, Max, get your shit together, he chides himself as he walks past the figure.

And then, time stands still for a moment. The person sitting on the couch turns and Max swears he’s completely lost his mind. He’s now conjuring up images of you out of thin air.

Or his he?

Your heart hammers in your chest when you hear the foot steps sound across the marble floor. You hadn’t really thought of anything beyond getting on the jet and getting to the Netherlands as quick as you could so when you landed, you were somewhat panicked that you didn’t have a plan. A quick call to Lando Norris of all people had solved that problem quite quickly. He had told you exactly where Max was staying but that he was still at the track so there was time to surprise him.

“Maxie.” You sob, tears pouring down your face at the look of utter confusion and bewilderment sitting on Max’s face.

“Liefje?”

You nod furiously as Max finally snaps into action, closing the distance between the two of you with just a few strides. He’s captured you up in his arms, crushing you to his body in a fierce hug, before you’re able to say anything else.

Home, your body sighs.

For the first time in weeks, you feel settled, the quiet sense of belonging etching itself deep in your bones the moment you find yourself in his arms.

“Did you really come back to me, liefje?” Max’s voice is strained, raspy with emotion. “Are you really here right now?”

You nod vigorously against his neck, burying your head there as you draw in a deep breath. He even smells like home. “I could never leave you, Maxie.” You can’t stop the tears, they just keep falling. “I saw you go into the wall earlier and the first thing that crossed my mind was ‘I never told him I loved him too.’”

Max nearly loses his grip on you he’s so beside himself. For several long seconds, Max just stands there, clutching you to his chest. He knows he should probably put you down, that your emotional reunion is causing a scene but he can’t quite convince his arms to let go. Almost as if he’s afraid that you’ll disappear again if he lets you go.

Max does lower you to the ground after managing to convince himself that you are really here and you won’t disappear but he doesn’t take his hands off of you. One hand goes to your waist, the other frames your face as he stares down at you. “Ho-How did you get here so fast?”

“Maman called up the pilot that Charlie uses and he happened to be in Nice. Lando told me where you were staying and I took an Uber here. I didn’t know what room you were in though, so I had to wait.”

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” Max takes your hand, leading you towards the bank of elevators. He had one thing on his mind: he needed you alone and he needed to touch every fucking inch of you to convince himself that you were real.

“I’d wait forever for you, Maxie.” You sigh, stumbling into his arms as the elevator doors ding close.

Tag List: @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @jovialpainterunknown @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland

(leave me a comment or message if you want to be added!! <3)

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #formula 1 fanfic

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chiriwritesstuff · 10 months ago

Text

The Girl in IT - 2. Off to the Races

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

Previous Chapter │ The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Preview: You hesitantly reach for the massive bouquet, looking at the beautiful mix of colors in awe. "Joel," you breathe, "They're beautiful." "The woman at the shop said that certain flowers can have meaning. She asked me about you." He points to the flowers in your hand. "Lilies, well, they mean infatuation. Chrysanthemums, for excitement." He points to the pink rose. "For sweetness and admiration." "and the carnations?" "For fascination and enchantment." "Joel.. you don't mean that, do you?" He chuckles. "Oh, I absolutely do, Sugar. Those flowers are just my way of expressing what I already know."

Chapter Warnings and Tags: Joel Miller is hungry and wants to EAT, Smut, One massive Tess sized-cockblock, Boss x Employee relationship, Time Jumping to and fro, Joel Miller is a silly flirt, Joel jumps right in, Explicit language, Did I mention smut?, Soft boy Joel Miller

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: You GUYS. YOU GUYS (!!!!!)

Thank you so much for all of the love for the first chapter of my silly little series with my even sillier Old Man Joel and his Sugar. I am absolutely flabbergasted by all of the likes, reblogs, and comments from all of you, it really means a lot to me! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You have no idea how much it means to me.

I have the first few chapters written and planned out, and I hope to post at least a new chapter once a week. I can't make any promises as I go back to work next week, but I will try. I apologize in advance if I skip a week, it is not my intention to let you guys down.

I hope you all enjoy!

Today.

[Hey Sugar, are you in your office right now?]

Yes, did you need something, Mr. Miller?

[Yes, actually, I do. I'll come to you, don't leave!]

A knock on the door startles you.

"Hey, Sugar?" Tommy Miller's voice rings out from the other side of the door. "Have you seen Joel? I know he said he had to ask you about something, but that was an hour ago-"

"Yeah?" you reply, almost in a whine, your head tipped back in pleasure as you try to muffle a scream. "Joel? No, haven't seen him around. No, not since this—"

There's a pause, and then Tommy's voice comes again, this time with a hint of amusement. "Still wrestling with his laptop, huh? The man can't even change his wallpaper without causing a crisis. I'll check his usual spots. If you see him, tell him Tess needs him in her office, pronto."

Just then, the muted sound of a cough under your desk catches your attention. You look down to find Joel, crouched beneath the desk with a sheepish grin on his face.

"Now, where were we?" he chuckles, his eyes meeting yours with a mischievous glint.

“Joel!” You smack him playfully as you roll your desk chair back. “Tess will have your head if you don’t show up soon!”

“But I’m starving, baby! Just let me have a little snack-“ he pulls your chair back to him as he situates himself under your desk, lifting your skirt as he smiles at the sight of your barely-there scrap of lace one would call underwear. “Shit baby, is this for me?” He lowers his head to your aching cunt, his arms wrapping around your thighs as he pulls you closer to his mouth. He rubs the tip of his nose along your slit, a satisfied smirk forming on his lips. He licks at your covered mound, the tip of his tongue adding just enough pressure for you to gasp out in pleasure. “I asked you a question, baby girl. Who did you wear these panties for?”

“You,” you say breathily, covering your mouth to muffle up your moans as he plants kisses along your thighs. “You, Mr. Miller. Only you.”

“Who owns this pretty pussy?”

"You do, Sir."

"Damn right, I do." Joel licks his lips as he pushes your panties aside, licking your clit. "Fuck, she's aching for me, isn't she?" He locks his eyes with yours, his mouth hovering over your pussy. "Can I?"

You nod, not trusting yourself to keep quiet.

Joel shakes his head, displeased with your answer. "No baby, use your words-" he growls, nipping at your thighs as you wince in pain.

"PLEASE Joel, keep going!" He smiles at your eagerness, licking and parting your folds with his tongue. He pins you against his face, tightening his hold on you as your body trembles.

"Fuck, you taste so fucking sweet-"

"JOEL!" Tess's voice reverberates through the hallway, the urgency evident in her heavy-footed approach, each step echoing past your office door. "Has anyone seen him?!"

Joel lets out an exasperated groan, his head dropping onto your lap as you suppress a giggle. "Duty calls, Mr. Miller. Can't keep your boss waiting, can you?"

"I am the boss, just so you're clear on that."

"Sure, Joel, keep telling yourself that."

Joel crawls out from under your desk with a grunt, stumbling onto the carpet with a thud. "I'm definitely too old for this shit," he mutters, trying to regain his footing.

"It's your list, Mr. Miller. You make the rules, I just help you execute it," you quip, smirking as you extend a hand to help him up.

He takes your hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He yanks you towards him, and you end up falling into his lap. "Right where I want you," he smirks, capturing your lips in a kiss.

You smile as he starts to kiss along your jaw. "You are insatiable."

"Only for you, Sugar."

"JOEL, FOR FUCKS SAKE!" Tess bellows from across the building.

"You better go before she breaks down all the doors," you wince as you give him a small frown. "Again."

Joel sighs, pressing one last kiss on your forehead. "Fine, but once I'm done with Ms. Pain in my ass-"

"You're going to go back to work like a good boy?" you reply sweetly, straightening out your skirt as Joel heads towards the door. He gives you one last glance as he turns the doorknob, a hungry look on his face.

"This isn't over, baby girl. When I come back, I expect to eat."

Ten years earlier.

"Joel! Tommy! Thank you so much for coming! Please, come in, come in!"

Joel straightens up and smooths out his flannel, nervously fiddling with his tool belt slung taut on his hips. He gives a curt nod to the client, turning to his side expecting to find Tommy next to him. His eyes narrow at the empty space. "Tommy, you fuck," he hissed under his breath at his brother, who was casually smoking a cigarette off to the side of the client's perfectly manicured lawn. "Put that out and stop fucking around, we're getting paid for this shit!"

Tommy takes a long drag, exhaling a long plume of smoke before flicking the cigarette onto the street. "This is small-time shit, Joel. We should be playing with the big dogs, not wasting our time doing residential work. How much was the bid?"

"20."

"Bullshit. This is no more than 5, and you know it. It's just a fucking scorched roof, and at only one side, it's not even a complete replacement."

Joel scoffs at his brother, his eyes narrowing in irritation. "Have you seen the size of this fucking house? We're in fucking Westlake Hills, for fucks sake. Think of the potential! Maybe we can convince them to replace the entire roof, replace their windows... fuck, I just want to make a good impression!"

"Oh, so is that why you're dressed like a fucking moron? Cowboy boots? Really? You're 46, not 26." he appraises him as he makes his way towards the front of the house. "Don't tuck in your shirt, man. I can see your fucking beer belly from here!" Tommy looks towards the front door, the client having already retreated into the home. He cocks his head and whispers to his older brother. "Is the wife hot? Shit. Maybe I should have run a comb through my hair-"

"They want this project done in a month."

Tommy whips his head towards Joel. "Are you fucking KIDDING ME? JOEL-"

"Boys!" The client's voice cuts through the building tension between the brothers, a sweet conspiratory smile on her face. "Are you coming?" She looks out into the distance beyond the brothers, a big smile blooming across her face. "Oh, Sugar! come and meet the boys who are fixing up the roof, you know, the side where your antenna thing exploded?" She beckons to the figure who was suddenly behind them, motioning her to join their conversation.

She's a sweet little thing, Joel muses, all nerves and jitters like a baby calf attempting to walk for the first time. So fucking cute, he thinks to himself. You were dressed for the brutality of the Austin summer, with barely there cut-off shorts and a tiny white baby tee, the sweat forming on your skin wetting the thin fabric, and if Joel looked hard enough, he swears he saw the outline of your nip-"

"Baby," the client rings out, forcing Joel to look away in embarrassment, a blush forming on his neck all the way up to his face. "You remember Joel Miller, the contractor we ran into in the mall?"

"Yeah. I remember. Hi, Mr. Miller."

You cringed as you approached, your head downcast as you awkwardly reached your overbearing mother. "Tommy, come and meet my daughter, we call her Sugar, because she's so sweet! She's back home from UT Dallas, she's working her way up to her master's in IT! We're all so proud of-"

"Mom," you whine, glaring at the ground as you shift around uncomfortably. "I don't think they care about what I'm doing at school."

"Don't be silly, Sugar," the mom chided with a dismissive wave. "These fine gentlemen surely appreciate a smart, capable woman, right, Joel? Tommy?"

Joel, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected introduction, nodded with a friendly smile. "Absolutely, ma'am. Education is valuable, and we're glad to have such esteemed company. It's hard enough to go through earning your bachelor's, I'm sure it's hell trying to navigate trying to get your masters!" Joel clears his throat as he gives her a nervous smile. "You look great, by the way. You look well rested, I reckon this break is doing you some good."

Tommy, giving Joel an amused look, chimed in. "Smart is the new sexy, Sugar. Nothing to be shy about. I agree," Tommy winks at his brother as his smile widens at Joel's nervous shuffling. "Joel sure likes them smart and capable, alright."

You blushed, still uncomfortable with the attention. "Well, uh, nice to meet you, Tommy, and it's nice to see you again, Joel," You mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

"Pleasure to see you again too, Sugar," Joel replies.

Tommy chokes on nothing as he witnesses his brother taking the girl's hand in his, placing a soft kiss on it.

"Oh, brother of mine," he whispered to himself, shaking his head at seeing how smitten his brother was for you. "For fucks sake, what the hell am I going to do with you?"

Six Months and One Week ago.

"Sugar? Is that you?"

You turn towards the deep voice, smiling at the body that it's coming from. "Mr. Miller, it's nice to see you again. Thank you so much for this opportunity-"

"I heard from your mother that you got that Masters, I'm proud of you, girlie."

"Oh," you stammer, "It was nothing-"

"Don't do that," Joel says with a frown, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Do what?" you ask, matching his frown as he steps towards you. You can't help but gasp at his sudden boldness. You keep your hands glued to your sides, willing yourself to not reach out to his chest. You forgot just how much he affected you, even if it's been a decade since you've seen him last. He's older, sure, with strands of grey peppered throughout his curly hair... but he's different too, the remnants of his boyish charm morphing into something harder, more rugged, more broad. You tremble under his scrutiny. You force yourself to meet his heavy gaze. "Do what?" you repeat out louder, your voice getting caught in your throat as you push an errant strand of hair away from your face.

"You shouldn't downplay yourself like that. Earning something like your Master's is a big deal, don't sell yourself short like that, okay?"

You grant him a small smile. "Okay."

Joel, satisfied with your answer, nods. "Want to grab a cup of coffee with me?"

Six Months Ago.

"Are you sure she's good? Joel! Are you fucking listening?" Tess snaps, her fingers snapping for emphasis as Joel jolts in surprise. "It says here that she's been working at the Geek Squad for the last eight years; that's hardly enough experience to run an entire department—"

"She has her masters in Management Information Systems from UT Dallas, and the person who vouched for her-"

"Yeah, her mother? If she's as old as you, I highly doubt she can grasp what we need... what are we doing Joel? Are we just letting little old rich ladies headhunt for us now? I don't need no privileged priss in some ball gown running IT, we're a multi-million dollar company-"

"... who didn't even have a decent IT department in the first place, and now that Gloria is retiring, shit, Tess-" Joel runs his hands through his hair as he groans in frustration. "... she's better than everyone else we've interviewed, hell- at least we know that she's a lifer, being that she's worked for minimum wage at Best Buy for almost a decade! We have a chance to bring someone in to help out with the draftsmen, shit, she's even proficient in Revit! Tess, level with me: with her knowing that 3D modeling shit - we need her! More than she needs us!"

"So it's not that you want to fuck her, then?" Tess rolls her eyes as she throws your resume on his desk. "Yeah, Tommy mentioned your little high school crush on her, it's funny, you conveniently forgot to mention that-"

"Tess, don't."

"So if we decide to hire her, I won't catch you fucking her in your office? Her office? The conference room, the supply closet..." She glares at him, tipping her head back as she pinches the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

"For fucks sake Tess, are we hiring her or not?"

Tess rises from her seat, running her hands down her slacks to straighten them, and gives Joel one last glance. With a half-smile, she shakes her head as she heads toward the door. "I'll email her an offer. If she takes it, she takes it... But, I will be starting her off at our base pay."

Joel nods, suppressing the urge to beam as much as he'd like. "That's fine."

"Oh? And Joel?" She pivots back to Joel, hand on the doorknob. "I didn't hear a no. If I catch you guys in my office, I will fucking castrate you, you hear?"

Two weeks ago.

To: [email protected]

Fr: [email protected]

Subject: About that list...

11:30 am (30 min ago)

Sugar,

Thanks for saving my ass last night. The meeting with The H Hotel went off with a hitch and Tess was none the wiser for my little mishap... no harm, no foul, right? Right.

About earlier today, when you said "Let's do this", was that a "Yes, maybe?" or a "Yes, definitely?" because I would very much like to do this, with you, at your pace, of course. I don't want to pressure you or anything. I'm just fucking excited, you know? You have no idea how much I've wanted to talk to you back then... I let shit get into my head, you know? Fuck. I'm rambling.

Thank you for giving me a chance, Sugar. I promise I will do everything in my power to make it worth your while.

Joel

To: [email protected]

Fr: [email protected]

Subject: RE: About that list...

11:45 am (0 min ago)

Yes, definitely. Yes to all of it.

When do you want to start?

One week ago.

[Hey Sugar, are you busy?]

Not at the moment, I'm about to clock out for lunch, what's up? Did you click on a phishing link again?

[Sugar, have a little faith! Say, I'm about to head out to lunch too, meet me in the parking lot in 5?]

That's rather forward and presumptuous of you, Mr. Miller. What if I had already brought lunch from home? What if I was looking forward to eating my adult lunchable?

[What the hell is an adult lunchable? It sounds terrible! What if I take you to that little Sushi joint down the road? Would that be enough to convince you to come out with me? I'll let you snack on the lunchable on the way there.]

Hey! Don't knock my charcuterie! Also, Doesn't that "little sushi joint" have a two-month waiting list? It's impossible to get in! I thought that it was only open for dinner?

[Baby, don't you know that we built that restaurant? Masayoshi is a good friend of mine, and he owes me a favor. All it takes is one call, what do you say? Nothing's impossible for my Sugar.]

Nothing's impossible for my Sugar. Sugar. My Sugar. You read Joel's message over and over again, your stomach growling as you contemplate the current state of your life. If someone had told you six months ago that you would manage to not only crawl your way out of the depths of Geek Squad hell, snag a decent job, and catch the eye of your hot-as-fuck boss, you would have laughed in their face at how ridiculous that sounded. It is ridiculous - how one little mistake led to having everything you could have possibly wanted out of your minuscule life, hot man included. So what if you haven't had a serious relationship since college? It's not like you were with your ex long enough for you to go all the way, and even then, you weren't remotely even into him, he was too skinny and nerdy and didn't scream 'man' at all. His nervous laughter and awkward shaking did nothing for you. Joel, on the other hand- now that was a man. A man you wouldn't mind climbing like a tree, all thick and firm and sturdy...

[Sugar? You still there? Are we doing this or not?]

You snap out of your daydreaming, your decision already being made. Your hands shake as you type out your response, your fingers striking the keys with a finality that you never would have thought you would ever have the courage for. Well, you think to yourself as you press enter. Here goes nothing...

I'll be right there. See you soon.

[That's my good girl.]

"Hey, Sugar," Joel greeted with a playful grin from the driver's seat of his F-150, his arm casually resting on the open window. His eyes lingered on you as if savoring the moment. "Hop in, Masayoshi is heading over to the restaurant now."

You rolled your eyes with a teasing smirk as you approached the passenger side, clamoring into the cab with a bit of awkward grace. "Just like that? A single call to your chef friend, and he drops everything to cater to your every whim? Color me impressed, Mr. Miller."

Joel chuckled. "Well, what can I say? I am sort of a big deal." He reached for your hand across the center console, fingers intertwining, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin. "Is this okay, Sugar?" He lifted your hand to his lips, planting a gentle kiss. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a delightful flutter in your stomach. Turning your head away, you mumbled, "It's very okay, Mr. Miller."

"Now, what did I tell you?" Joel teased, a glint in his eyes. "It's Joel, none of this Mr. Miller nonsense. Save that for when we're crossing off items on my list, alright?"

You couldn't help but laugh nervously, a blush creeping up your cheeks as Joel's easy charm and forwardness caught you off guard. "You're going to be the death of me, Joel," you quipped, half-jokingly, half-serious, unsure how to navigate the sudden closeness. The air in the truck seemed to hum with a subtle tension, and you wondered if Joel could sense the rapid beating of your heart.

Joel's gaze held a playful sparkle, and he grinned. "Well, Sugar, I hope it's a good way to go." He revved the engine, and the truck rumbled to life as he pulled out onto the road.

"So, Sugar, tell me something interesting about yourself," his fingers tapping the steering wheel to an imaginary beat.

You chuckled, playing along. "Well, Joel, I like to teach myself new things, I have a British shorthair named Sir Bubbles, you know, because I was obsessed with Bridgerton, And, by the way, it's Mr. Miller only when executing things on your list, right?" you teased, recalling his earlier remark.

Joel shot you a sly grin. "Sharp memory, Sugar. You're catching on quickly."

As you neared the sushi restaurant, the conversation seamlessly transitioned to lighter topics. Joel shared stories about his work, and how it felt working with Tommy and Tess, and you found yourself drawn into his earnestness and honesty. The playful banter continued as Joel made his way towards the edge of town, your cheeks hurting from how easy it was to smile in his company.

Parking the truck, Joel turned to you with a playful glint in his eye. "Ready for some sushi and more of my irresistibly charming company, Sugar?"

You roll your eyes, feigning reluctance. "Oh, the charm? I don't know if I can handle it, Mr. Miller."

He grins, opening your door with a flourish. "Well, brace yourself, because it's coming."

As you step out, Joel pauses, reaching behind your seat. "Wait a sec," he says, unveiling what looks like the botanical equivalent of a small garden. "A little something to brighten up your day."

You raise an eyebrow. "Is this part of the list?"

Joel chuckles. "Maybe."

You hesitantly reach for the massive bouquet, looking at the beautiful mix of colors in awe. "Joel," you breathe, "They're beautiful."

"The woman at the shop said that certain flowers can have meaning. She asked me about you." He points to the flowers in your hand. "Lilies, well, they mean infatuation. Chrysanthemums, for excitement." He points to the pink rose. "For sweetness and admiration."

"and the carnations?"

"For fascination and enchantment."

"Joel.. you don't mean that, do you?"

He chuckles. "Oh, I absolutely do, Sugar. Those flowers are just my way of expressing what I already know."

You playfully roll your eyes, holding the bouquet to your chest. "You're quite the charmer, Mr. Miller."

"Only for you," he replies with a wink, taking your hand as you both head towards the sushi restaurant. "After you, baby girl."

After lunch, you and Joel emerge to find the heavens have opened up, rain pouring down in sheets. Joel stops you in your tracks, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of sincerity and mischief.

With a twinkle in his eye, he asks, "Mind if I tick off the first thing on my list?"

You smile, stepping closer to Joel as he tucks an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, the both of you soaked to the bone.

"Yes please, Mr. Miller."

Taglist: @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat, @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115, @thewiigers,

@auteurdelabre, @quicax3, @casa-boiardi, @amyispxnk, @untamedheart81,

@paleidiot, @bbiophiliaa (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

As always, dividers by @saradika-graphics

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makethemhoesmad · 1 month ago

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sex concept-2

paige x oc

paige’s pov!

wc: 754

part one

—

this is the first time in quite a few years i’ve woken up with a woman on top of me, in my bed, in my clothes, and haven’t fucked her. not that i don’t want to. in fact, i really want to. she just won’t let me.

“p…” i hear scarlett whimper on top of me, shifting in a way that gives me a blissful whiff of her shampoo.

“mhm?” i answer, wrapping my arms around her. she turns her face into my neck, muttering something about how my room’s “so goddamn fucking cold,” and i think i fall in love right there, trying to pull her closer into me to keep her warm. i guess she wakes up fully a few moments later, because she rolls off of me, sits up, and says,

“i really should go home, i’ve got a date with one of my friends in two hours.”

No way she’s about to go on a date with anyone other than me, even though she’s technically not mine. I grab her and hold her to my chest, letting her squeal and demand to be released.

“let me go, bro, come on, paige.”

“nun uh, gotta have you close to me for just a little bit longer. i’ont got practice for another hour and a half, baby, we could stay here till then.”

i see her resolve falter, her pupils blow wide as she listens to me trying to sweet-talk her down. when her eyes flit down to my lips, i try to swoop in, press them to hers, but she places a hand right over my face.

“i really, need to go. thank you so much!” she crows, scrambling out of my bed and out the door, leaving her dress and taking my pants. it’s okay, really, i think as i watch her leave. i let the moment of her scurrying out in my clothes replay in my mind until my phone rings, with kk yelling to remind me we have practice in 30 minutes.

“normally after paige gets pussy she plays like a mad woman,” kk remarks, nudging azzi, who had just commented on my two missed layups.

“fuck all the way off, kamorea,” i mutter, storming towards the locker room.

“damn, she leave you hanging?” azzi asks, smirking at me.

“yes, bro, she told me she doesn’t fuck athletes,” i whine, burying my face in my hands. azzi pats me on the head, saying,

“what a shame, she’s really cute. scarlett, right? of course, you got her number so maybe you could change her mind or something.”

my face goes red, then pale. “No, azzi, i didn’t get her number, because i couldn’t think to ask her any of that shit. she shakes her head, walking out and calling that i should have tried harder, and to do something about my layup situation.

later that night, after a long, hot shower to contemplate my recent issues, i open instagram, set on scrolling a bit then going to bed. i lay down, and my plans are destroyed by the still lingering scent of scarlett on my pillows, my blankets, my sheets, my skin. i find myself opening her instagram, moving my hand between my legs. it’s sinful, how quickly i come onto my own fingers, with her name on my lips, just from a picture of her. i lean back, languidly scrolling through her photos, appreciating her. i’ve scrolled just a bit too far when i accidentally click the heart near the bottom of my screen. i panic briefly, then decide to leave it. let her see me stalking her. i plug my phone in, laying it facedown and turning over to scream into my pillow. my phone buzzing has me jolting up and grabbing it, nearly shrieking in delight at an instagram notification from @scar_let

why u stalking me, creepy

i giggle, unable to control myself

just can’t seem to get you outta my mind, ma

i reply back. i hope she thought it was slick, and not overly creepy and cringe.

bet you were rubbing one out to my old high school volleyball pictures

this girl, goddamn. she’s not right, but she’s not necessarily far from the truth.

you’d have lost that bet because i wasn’t rubbing one out to your high school volleyball pictures

i smirk, watching as the message goes to seen, and she starts typing.

wanna show me what you were doing then?

and then next message is an address, with a little winking face.

#paige bueckers #mutuals💀#azzi fudd #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x oc #anons😗

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pastafossa · 5 months ago

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I love you guys. I hope you know that.

Like.

Ok so I posted the new TRT chapter the other day. Obviously. And I had to force myself to do it, to click that final, 'post' button because at that last moment, this big wave of imposter syndrome hit (that had already hit on and off as I'd started working on the chapter again). And it was just this cycle of, 'It's been like 6 months since you posted a chapter or anything other than a couple one-shots and you're out of practice, I bet it's bad, it's probably terrible, I bet everyone's left and no one cares about this thing you love so why do you? What if no one likes it, you're gonna drop this and everyone's gonna god 'wtf is this, pasta? what happened?'' And so I forced myself to post it, took my meds to ensure I slept, and then kinda just bunkered down and slept/hid because I was halfway convinced that all the trauma in the previous six months had just bopped any ability I had to write.

Instead I got this outpouring, of just like, 'WELCOME BACK' and people telling me they're happy that mom is ok (which made me cry but in a good way) and they're sorry Cato passed away (more tears, but comforted tears), but also delightful jokes about the funny lines I put in or screaming over that romantic line or about missing Jane and the dynamics and comments about being eager for the next chapter, and how now I can be one of those AO3 authors with those notes of 'yeah my life blew up so I was delayed, but hey I'm back!' which... yeah. And much like when I first started TRT, I didn't... really expect that at all, and it's made me really emotional.

So if you've dropped into my ask box or the comments or the replies, seriously, from the bottom of my heart, thank you, because the excitement and love and just you all being the best little fam and continuing on this journey of TRT with me - a journey that has now included both Matt and Jane's journey, and a real life journey through a pandemic, a huge move, a passing of two of my pets, my mom's hospitalization and recovery, some heart issues, the cancellation and resurrection of the show, me meeting Charlie Cox and getting him to hold a red thread, my first wood carving event, etc - and I know I say this a lot, but you all really, really help me keep going when things get hard. I'd write TRT for nothing, I would, because I love this story and I intend to see it through, but ya'll just... I love you all tons. I'm hoping to get through the asks and fic comments and replies in the next few days, but I just wanted you guys to know that.

#i cannot understate how much i cried when i woke up and saw all the comments #and then when i posted about the chapter being up and got a bunch of excitement i just like #i was SO convinced i'd lost something after all the bad things and that some part of me had been lost in it #especially writing a chapter without my old kitty who had sat with me through every goddamn chapter #since the day i first sat down to write it #but the reactions have just... they were really comforting #so thank you #the red thread #and now we look forward to so much more <3

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berryhobii · 4 months ago

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Nerd Hunter (teaser)

Pairing: nerd!Jeon Wonwoo x black!female!reader

Word Count: 596(teaser) 5.3K(full fic)

Warnings: Pining, kind of a slow burn, strangers to lovers, feelings, Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), corruption kink, slight dom/sub undertones, a little girl on girl action, rough s*x, manhandling, fingering(f receiving), oral(m and f receiving), protected(do this) and unprotected s*x(don’t do this unless you’re sure), BACKSHOTS, mating press, dumbification, spit kink, creampies

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: he was supposed to be just another conquest—another notch in your studded belt, another victory to mount on your wall but when that bespectacled nerd with the cutest smile worms his way into your heart, your gun jams and now you’re caught in a stampede of feelings that you weren’t sure how to escape….did you even want to?

Release Date: TBD

Your hazel eyes wandered over the packed crowd of drunk college students, glossed lips leaving a sticky film on your straw as you sipped on whatever fruity concoction Kyla had poured into your cup.

The party was in full swing—drinks were flowing, the music was bumping with the greatest hits of the early 2000s, and there was no doubt there were about 7 people having sex upstairs. If you were lucky, you and another person would make 9 but that was proving to be more difficult than you thought. Despite all the friends that surrounded you, you were still so incredibly bored.

You needed something to do. You needed someone to do.

“Daddy’s home!” Mingyu bellowed once he reached your group, holding two cases of Twisted Tea in the air with his beefy arms. Cheers erupted at the sight of your group’s sunshine, Kyla jumping up from her seat next to you to run into his chest and whisk him into a kiss that got heated quicker than a Chick Fil A worker could say my pleasure.

Hoshi threw a cup at the pair, groaning loudly in disgust. “Get a room! I’d like to stay innocent, thank you.”

Seungcheol scoffed. “Innocent? You and Jasmine fuck so much, you could get a condom sponsorship. You do it at least 6 times a day.”

A chorus of laughter rang out at the expense of an embarrassed Jasmine, her hands flying up to cover her face whereas her boyfriend was smugly grinning, not at all ashamed of his sexual attraction to his girlfriend.

“Hey! We stopped using condoms a little while ago.” He revealed and Jasmine wanted nothing more than to fade into obscurity right now. “Besides, we only did it twice today, it would have been three if we didn’t get disrupted in the car on the way here-oof.” His words cut off when Jasmine hit him in the chest, her eyes screaming at him to shut the hell up but the damage was already done.

Seungcheol’s face dropped, the gears in his brain turning before he said, “wait but…..I drove us here.”

A pause of awkward silence followed as the realization washed over everyone; Kyla popped her lips as Mingyu coughed, Jihoon lifted his glass to look at the bottom of it for some reason, and your eyes went to that spot in the corner which became increasingly interesting at the moment.

Hoshi cleared his throat, checking the imaginary watch on his wrist. “Well would you look at the time? Come on, baby. We have to go volunteer at that otter daycare. Stay blessed, my brothers and sisters.” He rushed, ushering Jasmine off his lap and leading her away from the group.

“KWON SOONYOUNG! If I find nut in my car, you’re dead!” Seungcheol threatened lividly, closely following behind the scampering couple.

The remainder of you looked at one another before breaking out in laughter once again.

“Those 3 are ridiculous.” Mingyu commented with a shake of his head.

“For real.” Kyla agreed. “Anyway, baby. Do you want a drink?”

“Let me go put these in the kitchen first.” He motioned to the drinks he had brought. Then, his eyes lit up as he remembered something. “Oh yeah! I want to introduce you guys to my friend, Wonwoo.”

Moving to the side, Mingyu revealed a person standing right behind him who none of you noticed until now and suddenly your previous boredom hoped on a flight with Spirit Airlines because it just got drop kicked.

Dark jeans. Oversized hoodie. Glasses. Kind of slouched posture. Eyes shifting around nervously.

Target acquired.

#seventeen x black reader #seventeen smut #seventeen fic #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo smut #wonwoo x reader

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neos127 · 9 months ago

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WHY HER? (chapter two)

pairing. idol!jake x fem!fan!reader

synopsis. in the most cliche way, jake falls for a fan of his. y/n just has to decide if she’s able to handle being apart of his life.

notes. i was inspired by this one jake fan sign vid i saw…he’s absolutely insane

Y/N was sure she had never felt so nervous in her life. She had already talked to Sunghoon and Jungwon, feeling as if she were about to pass out. (Un)fortunately Jake was next, and Y/N could feel her throat closing up. She felt tingly as Jungwon kindly thanked the girl for her gift while holding her hands. He even sent an air kiss her way as she stood up from her seat.

Y/N had never been to a fan sign before, not wanting to feed her delusions even more. Whenever she visited South Korea, she was always bombarded by all of the kpop fan service she could partake in, something that wasn’t common back in New York. She refused to go to fan signs, feeling as if she would pass out, throw up, or become insanely delusional like those people she laughed at on twitter.

She had changed twice, in an outfit different from the one she posted online. She decided to go with a plain long sleeve shirt and a cute red skirt she had found online, hoping that it wouldn’t be too much. She put on light makeup and added some accessories to elevate her look. Y/N decided that if she were to attend this fansign just this once— she would allow herself to indulge in her fantasies and look good for the boys she adored. There was truly no harm in it for at least one day.

But when Y/N sat down in front of Jake, she nearly forgot what to say. How was it that the man was more beautiful in person? His features had always captured her attention but they were even more striking now.

“Oh my gosh…um…hi.” Y/N squeaked out, a nervous smile on her face. Jake smiled and greeted her back, offering his hand over the table after signing the album she brought. Y/N looked down at it with wide eyes before bringing both her hands forward to rest in his. She noticed the size difference instantly and had to hold back a scream.

“How old are you?” Jake asked, leaning forward. Y/N unknowingly clutched Jake’s hand harder, causing the boy to smirk slightly.

“I’m uh 19. I’m turning 20 this year actually. I’ll probably celebrate my birthday in Korea this year.” Y/N answered, trying to stop the word vomit that threatened to come out. Jake’s eyes seemed to light up at that and he began to play with her hands.

“Are you not from here?” He asked seemingly genuinely intrigued. Y/N had to convince herself that he acted like this with everyone before she had a heart attack.

“No I’m not. I live in New York but I often visit Korea to see my friends.” She answered, silently hoping that her face wasn’t showing any signs of nervousness. Jake pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he observed Y/N, trying to commit her face to memory. He wasn’t sure why she captivated him so much compared to the other fans he talked to earlier, but he also didn’t care at the moment either. There was just something about how adorable she looked, and the twinkle that appeared in her eye when he asked her questions.

When Y/N thanked him for being such an amazing performer and inspiration, he felt his chest tighten and his stomach flip. Compliments from enegenes always made him feel happy and appreciated, but this felt different— and Jake was in awe of how Y/N had a hold on him already.

Y/N then held up the Spider-man keychain she had bought for Jake, her hands shaking as he took it from her. He smiled wide, thanking her for bringing him something and grabbing her hand again. He suddenly paused, realizing the smell of the perfume she was wearing. It smelt of chocolate with a mix of vanilla…Jake had to make sure his composure didn’t slip even more.

“Your perfume smells really good.” He commented, nearly in the girls’ face. She smiled wide, embracing the blush that was definitely on her face.

“Thanks! I can’t remember what it’s called but-” Y/N was suddenly cut off by Enhypen’s staff. She had to move along to the next member since her time was up. Before she could fully stand up, Jake grabbed her wrist, bringing it to his nose to smell her perfume once more.

“Suits you.” He murmured before sending a wink her way. Y/N was sure she was about to pass out right there. On the floor. In front of all the members. She mumbled out a weak ‘bye’ before quickly moving over and sitting down in front of Heeseung, nearly tripping over her own feet.

Unfortunately, Jake never managed to leave her mind. Even when she went to sit down in front of Sunoo, or when she went out with her friends for dinner that night. Especially when she laid down to sleep that night. She swore she could still feel his hands touching hers, or the brush of his lips against her wrist when he smelled her perfume. Y/N groaned, burying her face into her blanket. That was exactly why she didn’t want to attend any fansigns.

previous | masterlist | next

taglist. @junityy @super-amberlynn @jvjsssnaa @dreamiesformula @deepdeancloudspy @syazzzlisa @nnana2 @hkkbrosdienagge @iheartjayke @armydrcamers @yeojeolmi @yelshin @yunville (it won’t let me tag some people :/)

©neos127

#enha x reader #enha fluff #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enha scenarios #enha smau #enha imagines #enhypen imagines #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagines #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun imagines #jake x reader

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companionjones · 1 year ago

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From the Bottom

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Fandom: The Originals (The CW)

Summary: You attend a party with Elijah, and its guests do not treat you very well. What will be the Mikaelsons’ reactions to this?

Warnings: The guests at the party are very mean to Reader, Klaus’ regular violence

*******

You were surprised you lasted as long as you did. You sat at the vanity and watched as the makeup streamed down your face.

Just as the next round of sobs raked through your body, there was a knock on the door.

“Y/n? My love, may I please come in.” It was Elijah.

You opened your mouth to give a pitiful, “Yes,” and turned to face Elijah as he entered.

As soon as he saw the look on your face, he used his vampire speed to get across the room and kneel in front of you. He took one of your hands in his. “I don’t want you to spare them another thought--”

“How can I stop thinking about it, Elijah?!” you exploded. “I was just publicly humiliated for the last hour!”

You had shown up to a ‘business’ party at the Mikaelson Compound on Elijah’s arm. It was the first time the public had seen you with him. Apparently, no one there thought you were good enough for Elijah Mikaelson. The whole time, you kept getting mean looks and you kept hearing strangers whisper hurtful things. At a certain point, it was all you could do to keep yourself from crying your eyes out until you had excused yourself and were safe in Elijah’s room.

“Y/n, please look at me,” Elijah begged.

You did as he asked.

He lamented, “From the bottom of my heart, you are the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on. Céleste, Tatia, any one of those monsters downstairs can’t even compare to the beauty I see in you. You are the love of my eternal life. I will feel like this always and forever. I promise you that.”

“How am I supposed to face them again, Elijah?” you pleaded.

He shook his head. “Don’t worry. Once Klaus is done with them, what they’ll fear most is ever looking at you the wrong way again.”

“‘Once Klaus is done with them’?”

Just then, you heard a loud scream, followed by the squelch of blood.

You rose to your feet. So did Elijah. He was still holding your hand.

“What is he doing to them?” It scared you to even wonder.

Elijah tried his best to calm your fears. “He is just teaching them a few lessons. Klaus cares for you too, you know.”

Vaguely, you felt yourself nodding. All you could hear were sounds of torture as you took steps closer to the door with Elijah’s hand still in yours.

As you opened the door, your heart was beating rapidly, but your tears had dried. You approached the railing to thunderous applause, a few dead people, and a smirking Klaus.

You had to admit: you much preferred the fear in the people’s eyes to the looks they were giving you earlier.

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, you should check out my masterlist over on my page. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #the originals #the originals cw #daniel gillies #companion jones #from the bottom

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

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Unexpected 51

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Trapped in another holding pattern. That's all that life seems to be. Phases. Dull and prolonged. Waiting but for what?

Your days aren't much different than before Lloyd's return. He may as well have stayed gone. For you, he's not there. He's nothing. He doesn't deserve to be anything to you.

Your routine once more stagnates; sleep and feedings and some crying. Between it all, you see Harlan or Dottie, sometimes both. Your mother-in-law has grown quiet, even evasive, since her son came back. You know why but you won't argue with her or her precious Marion.

You get your walks in, looking forward to the escape from the suffocating walls. Andy passes you often, waving or saying hi. He doesn't try to talk again, not with your father around. They barely acknowledge each other. You ignore his texts. You're still trying to figure it all out.

When you're at home, Harlan holds Luna as you catch up on your reality TV. You whisper back and forth about your most hated personalities. It can never be what it once was, or what you wished it could be, but it's manageable.

That day, Harlan and Dottie go into town to do some shopping. You haven't seen Lloyd but you don't mourn his absence. Not like before.

You have Luna downstairs in her rolling bassinet. She's fully fed and sleepy. You might do some cooking. You're finally feeling up to it.

You shiver and watch your daughter dozing peacefully. Why is it so cold in here? You hug yourself and notice the draft freezing in from the kitchen. You find one of the french doors slightly open and push it shut. You can guess who did it. You should lock him out but you'd rather not provoke a confrontation.

You go back to the front room. Something feels off. You don't know. Maybe it's just the empty house. You check the thermostat then the bassinet. Luna is tucked against the side. She must feel it too.

You make sure the wheels are locked before you flit out to grab a quilt from the nursery. You pant as you get to the top of the stairs. Whew, you still got work to do before you're anywhere close to back to normal.

You snatch the sewn pink blanket and come back down, catching your breath as you sweep through the doorway.

“Lulu,” you say quietly, “gonna swaddle you up–”

You notice the angle of the bassinet. It's not how you left it, almost parallel to the sofa instead. You rush over and nearly scream as the bottom stares back at you empty.

You drop the quilt and spin, searching for any sign of the culprit. You storm back into the foyer and stomp a foot.

“Lloyd!” You bellow, not caring if you wake the babe, “where the fuck are you? Give me my baby!”

Nothing. Just the echo of your anger. You snarl and holler again. Louder.

“LLOYD! I'M NOT FUCKING AROUND!”

You stride forward and go down the hall. Not in the kitchen. Nope, not in the dining room either. You go through the first floor, yelling, then ascend the stairs again. There's no way he could've snuck her up there.

“You motherfucker. Lloyd!” You stop at the top, “it's not fucking funny.”

“Jesus Christ!” You hear a door swing open, then another as he comes out of his bedroom, “what is it now? Wanna call me more names? Push me around?”

He has a towel clutched around his waist as his feet slap on the floor. He glistens, his hair slick and dripping the noise of the shower still buzzing. You gulp and your heart drops.

“Lloyd, give her back.”

“What?”

“Don't. Give me Luna.”

“Luna–” he grimaces, “what the fuck? You serious? You won't let me see her and now– wait, where is she?”

You stand silent in horror. He's a loar to the bone but dammit, he's convincing.

“You took her. I know… I went to get her a blanket and you…”

“I've been in the shower for twenty minutes, sweetheart,” he sneers, “I… she's… gone?”

You croak. It's all you can do. You spin and hurtle back downstairs. You near the bassinet again and squeal. Gripping the sides as panic floods your chest.

“She's gone! Lloyd! My baby! Where is she?!”

You hear him come downstairs and his footsteps rush across the floor, searching everywhere you did. He appears from the kitchen, barely hanging onto his towel. You look at him as he stares at you palely.

“The back door was unlocked.”

“I know, I thought you were out there–”

“Peaches,” he utters as his eyes dilate, “call the police.”

🍑

You're still sobbing as the red and blue flash on the other side of the window. You told the story a dozen times over. It's 2am and you haven't seen Luna in thirteen hours. You feel her absence heavy in your chest.

Your baby. You failed her. She's gone and it's all your fault.

Why didn't you just take her upstairs? Why did you want to cook? Why weren't you watching her? Why didn't you lock the goddamn door?

“Honey,” Harlan clinks down a mug and his weight dips beside you on the couch, “they'll find her. She can't have gone far.”

“No, no, no,” you bawl, head throbbing, “someone took her. Someone– it's all my fault–”

“Shhh, shhh, it's alright. It'll be alright. She got everyone lookin’, they'll find her.”

“I fucked up!” You fold over your lap, “I was selfish--c-c-carlessssss.”

He hushes you again and rubs your back. You can hear the police milling around outside, a few inside still investigating every nook and cranny.

“Ma'am,” an officer approaches, “we're doing what we can but these things can take a while. You know, we got a few volunteers from the neighborhood too and some statements–”

“I don't care! I want my daughter back,” you snap.

“Sorry, officer, she's just…scared,” Harlan slings his arm over your shoulders.

“Understood,” the officer says, “we're doing all we can.”

You sniffle and bury your face in your palms. This can't be real. It is and it's all on you. You wished so many times that Luna would just go away, you didn't want her, you remember that, and now that wish came true. You are a monster.

“Breathe,” Harlan coos as your breath turns shallow and suffocating, “honey, please, you needa–”

“Let me look!” You sit up, so dizzy you nearly keel over, “I wanna look for her.”

“Dear, you already did. You needa rest.”

“No, no!” You shove him away and stand, slippers slapping as you stomp around the couch, “she's my baby, I can find her! I know I will.”

“You won't help. Lloyd's already out there–” Harlan calls after you as he follows.

You hurry through the entryway and burst out the front door. You hear your father swearing as he scrambles for his shoes. The snow crunches under your thin soles as you jog past the cruisers and the uniformed figures.

You turn down the street without a thought. The streetlights flash over you, yellow, then darkness, yellow, dark…. You don't know where you're going. Maybe you want to disappear too.

You hear Harlan calling your name but he's getting further away, not closer. You slow down and cough, lungs burning. You lean on a fence post and bend to collect yourself.

“What are you doing out here?” A drawl brings you straight up.

You squint. You think it's Lloyd at first, you haven't seen him since the police got there. Andy steps into the soft hue of the lightpole.

“I… what are you doing?” You throw the question back at Andy.

“I'm a volunteer firefighter. Heard there was a missing baby so I've been helping. I'm sorry to hear about Luna. I don't know who would do this.”

You shake your head and snivel, “I don't know.”

“I know what it's like to lose a child but… I think… she's out there. It'll be okay. You'll see her again, I know it.”

“I hope,” your voice cracks and wipes your eyes as your grief spills anew, “I should go back.”

He says nothing. You back away and turn, dragging your feet down the pavement. You see the sirens lit up and the distant beans of flashlights. Suddenly, you're caught around the neck, a hand smothering your mouth.

“Do you wanna see her?” Andy whispers as you kick out, “Luna needs her mommy…” he wrestles you out of the cone of light and behind the fence, “so do I.”

You thrash, clawing at his sleeve. Your slippers fly off in your struggle as he squeezes tighter. No, it can't be him.

You were wrong. Again.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #andy barber #andy barber x reader #unexpected #series #drabble #the gray man #defending jacob

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bellofthemeadow · 10 months ago

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Dawn Ends the Night - Chapter 3

Aemond Targaryen x FemReader (Dayne)

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 4.7K

Warning: All warnings on the Series Masterlist, will update if necessary (Re-iterating, no minors allowed! Thank you)

Chapter Summary: The aftermath of the attack sees Prince Aemond wrestle with new feelings.

Notes: Hello everyone, I hope you are all enjoying this chaotic posting schedule just as much as I am!!! I am back with a new chapter, a little window into Aemond's very messy mind. That man is a softboy at heart, he just needs like 20 years of therapy. RN its the beginning of a slight "obsession" as our boy for the first is feeling... something that is not murder, or hatred, or the need to burn everything with Vhagar. So yeah.

Like always thank you to everyone who reblogged and commented I love interacting with y'all and I really hope that you enjoy this chapter 💜💜💜

Taglist: @duds31 , @snh96, @lol-im-done, @heavenly1927, @whimsywilde , @queen-123s-posts

Through your Eyes

In the silence of his bedchamber, Aemond's pulse raced like the chained dragons lagering in the dragon pit, its beat echoing from the cavern of his chest to the very tips of his fingers, awakening the primal blood-rage that slept within his Targaryen blood. The air around him trembled with his ragged breaths, each one a stormy gust tearing through the otherwise stillness of the room. Alone, he wrestled with his armor, the leather stained with the day's deadly encounter. He would need to get the leather treated so the blood wouldn’t leave its reddish mark, Aemond thought with annoyance. His hands, though shaking with a fury he struggled to contain, methodically peeled away each layer, dismissing the need for a manservant's aid. This was his ritual of solitude, after a lost fight in the yard with Ser Criston, or an annoying dinner with Aegon, Aemond needed to take a moment to confront the tempest within, a moment to try and tame the dragon.

“My thanks for saving us” your sweet words echoed in Aemond’s brain like the hymns his mother had once insisted he memorize, trapped in his mind – relentless in their grab for his undivided attention. Although he had just met you earlier (had it only been 3 hours?) each detail was etched into his memory with unnerving clarity —the putrid stench of Flea Bottom that now seemed to permeate his very being and clung all the way to his smallclothes, the satisfying melody of the guard's screams echoes loud as he replays the moment he severed the man's hand from his foul body; an act of true dragon-justice.

Your eyes.

Those eyes, captivating and raw, rimmed with red, their watery sheen reflecting a tumult of fury and fear. It was a look Aemond rarely witnessed in others, but they were a mirror to the emotions he often grappled with in his daily solitude. Staring into his own reflection, he was accustomed to seeing the same intensity in his sole eye, the other a remnant of his past, a void where fear once dwelled. Now, that fear was often overshadowed by a simmering fury, a relentless fire that had become his constant companion. Yet, in your gaze, he saw the fear and anger, a young bird still scared of an unknown, cruel world – but oh so angry and unwilling to get yourself drag down by its cruelty.

Since coming back to the keep after he had settled the matter at the market, Aemond’s mind was inexorably drawn back to the market, to the moment he first laid eyes on you. He had not needed anyone to point you out; he knew who you were from the second he saw you, holding that little boy who was clinging onto you like the barnacles that littered the rocks in blackwater bay.

Seeing you so small yet standing so tall in the shadow of the guard’s golden cloak, he had only seen the resolve and desire to protect; for Aemond, it was like a visceral pull that transcended mere sight that had drawn him to you, like he was being pulled with a thight string attached to his heart.And in the dirt of Flea Bottom, you had stood cloaked in a gown of gauzy lilac in a style of dress he had never seen at court. The sheerness of the sleeves and the plunge of the loose bodice defied the strict, colorless conventions of the court and in a way that would surely raise his mother's brow in disapproval. But Aemond did not care for what was proper, as when he freed the man’s body from its hand, he only longed to take you in his arms, to press the silky fabric of your gown, under which he knew luscious curves hid, between his fingertips.

Aemond closed his eyes trying to imagine what you would feel like in his arms, he could almost feel it if he concentrated enough - were he a bold man, Aemond would have tugged on the fabric of your dress to bring you closer to him, to hold you tight. Not for unseemly reasons as you were still his betrothed, a lady of noble birth at that, and he was no Aegon. It was hard to admit it to himself, but all he wanted was to inhale the sweet citrusy scent he had caught when you had tied the purple scrap of silk to his bicep.

Aemond unwound the fabric from his arm with a tenderness that echoed the way his mother handled her most precious emerald necklace, an heirloom passed down from his grandmother. She cherished it so deeply that she allowed only herself to touch or clean it, guarding it like a dragon hoarding its treasure. But to Aemond, this simple piece of purple cloth was infinitely more valuable than any gems or riches that lay in the royal vault; it was the only tangible thread linking him to you. Through this favor, you were his and he was yours, bonded through blood and silk. He hoped one day he could shower you in trinkets; ruby-red necklaces, perhaps paired with a green samite gown, or freshwater pearls jewelery ; he had heard that Riverrun made amazing hairnet with them –Aemond could not help but smile at the thought of you outfitted with tokens from him, all would know that you belonged to him.

Aemond let the fabric dance lightly between his fingertips and bringing the scarf closer, he tentatively pressed it against his nose, inhaling deeply. The fragrance was faint, a hint of your presence as if you had only briefly held the fabric in your grasp. Frustration flickered within him as he sought more of your scent, breathing in with an intensity born of deep longing and desire. Aemond was no stranger to yearning; his life was a testament to insatiable hunger - for recognition, for greatness, for respect, and for the Iron Throne. His brother, with his lecherous appetite and penchant for debauchery, and his older sister who is always entangled in a web of deceit with her brood of Strong bastards, were both underserving of what should have been rightfully Aemond.

Yet, as he held the fabric close to his face, Aemond felt his greed transform from ugly and covetous to an all-encompassing desire to protect and care. He yearned not for accolades or crowns, but for the intimacy of your existence in his arms. Indeed, Aemond was a greedy man, and at that moment, he longed to truly have you, to have your scent permeate his skin. The mere thought of burying his face in your hair, drawing in the essence of your being, became a need that tugged at his very core. He almost scoffed at his thoughts, to think that the dragonrider of Vhagar would be reduced to a puddle of quivering emotions! If, when his mother first informed him of his betrothal, Aegon had told him that in barely a moon's turn he would desire nothing more than the simple pleasure of his betrothed's closeness, to breathe in the sweet aroma, he would have throttled his idiot brother. But you had ensnared him – a simple instant in your presence, a look from your beautiful eyes and he was yours. What a mess he was.

Closing his eyes, Aemond did his best to recall the delicate touch of your hands as they had wrapped the fabric around his arm. The feeling of your delicate fingers resonated deep within him, intimate and gentle, unlike any he had ever experienced. The soft pressure of your fingers against his skin, the careful way you secured the scarf, it all felt like a silent promise, I shall care for you, my lord husbands. Words Aemond yearned to hear falling from your plush lips.

Under the tender scrutiny of your eyes, Aemond felt a man transformed; Gone was the bitter sting of being known as 'Aemond the Dragonless' or 'Aemond-who-sends-the-maids-crying.' Instead, he felt seen as who he should have been, had fate not cruelly snatched away his eye – a true dragon prince, deserving of admiration and respect. Deserving of a crown, even if his weak father refused to admit it.

"Prince Aemond!" The call from Ser Criston echoed forcefully through the door, breaking the stillness of the chamber and brought Aemond from his musings. Huffing, Aemond groaned in displeasure, he could understand now why Aegon stopped his sword training - Ser Criston did have the worst of timing. Maybe if he held his breath, Ser Criston would go away. He waited a minute, but the pounding restarted; Of course, he would not go away, the knight was relentless.

"Just a moment," Aemond replied tersely.

"The Queen requests your presence immediately, my prince. The matter is urgent, so please make haste my prince" came Ser Criston's insistent voice from the other side.

Aemond groaned before swiftly splashing cool water across his face, feeling it's refreshing touch against his skin and hastily pulling a tunic over his head, covering his bare chest. There would be time for a proper bath later in the evening, before dinner and the official presentation of his betrothed to court, he reasoned.

His fingers then reached for the purple silk and carefully he tied it around his wrist, positioning it high enough to remain concealed beneath the folds of his jerkin. Though hidden from view, its presence was a secret comfort, a reminder that he did not dream you – that you existed, in flesh and blood.

Aemond flung the door open, his movements brusque, revealing the stern figure of Ser Criston Cole. The knight looked annoyed; his lips downturned in displeasure. Without exchanging words, Aemond began striding towards his mother’s solar, the path so familiar that he required no guidance, least of all from his mother’s shadow.

"The Queen is quite agitated, my prince," Ser Criston broke the silence, his voice echoing down the dimly lit corridor. "She has been informed of the incident at the market and is... less than pleased."

Aemond's steps faltered, his fists clenching at his sides, he knew it was coming, he just had not imagined it would happen so soon, although it made sense as Alicent had many eyes and ears all over the city. Aemond looked at Ser Criston before rolling his eye, the knight had no doubt babbled the second he had reached his mother's vicinity. The thought of disappointing his mother tightly squeezed at his heart, with gritted teeth, Aemond let out a noncommittal grunt in a thinly veiled effort to maintain composure. Ser Criston, however, persisted. "In light of the current tensions at court, such a public display of violence was... ill-advised, to say the least. For a prince of the realm to act so rashly..."

Stopping abruptly, the torchlight casting long shadows that danced on the walls, Aemond turned sharply, his eyes a stormy sea of frustration and barely contained rage. "And what would you have had me do, Ser Criston? Stand by while that animal threatened my betrothed with cold steel? Be grateful I let him leave with his life."

Ser Criston's demeanor remained stoic, attempting to soothe the prince's anger. "These are indeed trying times, my prince. But your betrothed should not have found herself in such a predicament. A lady of her station venturing away from her escort raises questions about her discretion. Such behavior could bring unforeseen troubles to our doorstep..."

Aemond's voice cut through the air, sharp as Valyrian steel. "I severed the hand that dared harm her. What do you think I would do to the tongues of those who dare tarnish her name?"

Ser Criston's expression flickered, a brief moment of uncertainty crossing his face. "My prince, I did not mean to imply—"

"I know exactly what you implied," Aemond interjected, his voice laced with a cold venom. He unconsciously reached to his right arm where he knew your favor was hidden, touching it to bring your bravery to his words. "Remember your place, Ser Criston. As much as you are a valued member of this household and as much as I have always considered you to be a great mentor, I will not tolerate any slight against my betrothed. Is that clear?"

"Yes, my prince," Ser Criston conceded, the strain in his voice evident. "I shall be more mindful."

With a curt nod, Aemond turned away and, as he moved through the corridors, passing servants and knights alike, he noticed their efforts to avoid meeting his gaze. It was a dance he had grown accustomed to, yet today, it felt more pronounced as it made the hole beneath the eye-patch throbbed. Trying to keep the pain at bay, he imagined you at his side holding his hand and giving a sweet reassuring smile. It seemed to help somewhat as the pain started subsiding, leaving in its wake only the feeling of emptiness. It would do for now.

Reaching the door to the Queen's solar, Aemond paused, collecting his thoughts. He had hoped that by now, his usual icy composure would have resettled over him like a familiar cloak, that the fiery dragon within would have been tamed and subdued. Yet, beneath his skin, a prickling heat lingered, a reminder of the inferno that had coursed through his veins earlier. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for the encounter ahead. The comforting memory of your grateful eyes had to be set aside, replaced with the bracing reality of his mother's scrutiny.

Aemond gently rapped on the door and after a brief pause, one of his mother's handmaidens opened the door, allowing him and Ser Criston to enter the room. Inside, Queen Alicent, adorned in a dress of her usual striking green, paced before a large window. Her anxiety was palpable, evidenced by the way she gnawed at her cuticles, some of which were surrounded by tiny specks of blood where she had bitten too deeply.

Aemond felt a pang of shame tighten in his gut. He was rather unaccustomed to being the source of his mother's disappointment. Throughout his life, she had always shown him a particular kind of attention, especially during his more vulnerable, bullied childhood years when he did not have a dragon to stop people (Aegon) from mocking him. Displeasing Queen Alicent was not something he took lightly. His gaze swept across the room, and Aemond noticed the unusual absence of Otto Hightower, which was odd as the man always had a way to immerse himself in every family discussion.

Aemond's thoughts were shattered by the sharp rebuke of his mother. "Aemond, for the love of the Seven, what possessed you?" Queen Alicent's voice might have sounded stern and strict to the uneased ear, but Aemond could hear a pinch of desperation. "To attack and dismember a gold cloak in full view of the public. Do you realize the talk this will incite!?" Her eyes, usually so full of maternal warmth reserved for him, now bore into him with a sternness that made him inwardly flinch.

The smoldering embers of Aemond's anger flared up once more, and he met his mother's gaze with his own steely look – the one that made grown man shudder. "Mother, that man was a disgrace to his cloak. He was assaulting the woman who is to be my wife, threatening her life. He was a beast, unworthy of his position and of the gold on his back. By intervening, I not only did what was necessary to protect my intended, but I restored the name of the King in the eyes of the people of King’s Landing. I will not apologize for my actions as I was under the impression that Lady Dayne, being betrothed to a prince, would be under the protection of our house. It seems I was mistaken. Perhaps I should have allowed her to be stripped naked and beaten for all of Flea bottom to see, would this have been more appropriate?!"

Queen Alicent, her fingers once again finding their way to her mouth, bit her nails nervously. With a weary sigh, she approached Aemond, her hands reaching out to gently grasp his arms. "Aemond, you misunderstand my concern," she began, her voice tinged with fatigue. "Your actions in defending your betrothed were commendable, but the manner in which you executed them... it is the brutality of it that troubles me. Such a display of violence and cruelty, it's not befitting a prince of your stature."

Aemond's response came with a touch of bitterness, "Mother, the people of King’s Landing have always viewed me as a monster. What I did today is likely mild in comparison to what they all believe me capable of. And frankly, the man got off lightly. Had it been solely up to me, I would have fed him to Vhagar without a second thought."

Queen Alicent's sigh was heavy. "Aemond, please," she implored. "I understand your urge to protect your future wife, but you have not even properly met her, your reaction was..."

"You understand nothing," Aemond interjected sharply, his voice rising with indignation. "My name is Aemond Targaryen! NOT Aemond Hightower and I will uphold the words of my house, 'Fire and Blood,' in dealing with any who threaten us. And that includes Lady Dayne, from the moment Ggrandfather arranged for our betrothal. "

Alicent's expression turned grave, her gaze unyielding "Is that truly your desire, Aemond? To be remembered as another Maegor the Cruel? To walk the same dark path as your uncle, the rogue that all the nobility of the realm scorns? What legacy do you wish to leave – Aemond the Monstrous? Aemond the Brutal?"

Aemond winced upon his mother's words – Aemond the monstruous? A bitter retort escaped his lips, "Perhaps I do want that. Perhaps if they called me 'Aemond the Cruel' openly as they all think it, my dear older sister would reconsider herself, parading her bastards as if they were legitimate heirs, worthy of the throne."

Queen Alicent took a deep, steadying breath, her eyes closing momentarily in a silent plea for patience. She released Aemond's arms, turning away from him, her posture one of weary resignation. "I only wish that you would remember the lessons of mercy taught by the Mother," she said softly. "I understand your anger, Aemond, but you must see that there are alternatives to your actions. Violence, war, death – these are not the sole answers to all our difficulties."

Aemond felt sour upon his mother’s words, had she always been so blind? "And what would be the 'appropriate' answer, mother, when Rhaenyra learns of your plans with Grandfather? When she discovers your intention to crown Aegon over her?"

"Aemond, please," Alicent implored, but he pressed on relentlessly.

"Do you truly believe she will simply just accept it? Do you not see that war and violence are already at our doorstep? Is this not why you arranged my marriage to Lady Dayne – to secure Dorne's support when conflict inevitably breaks out? Consider how our position would weaken if I had allowed the first Dornish lady on our soil since the conquest to be abused on the streets of King's Landing. Prince Quoren might have renounced our alliance entirely. And then what, Mother? Whom would you have me marry? A distant Beesbury cousin? Perhaps some lesser Velaryon to challenge Lord Corlys? What would your grand strategy be, mother?"

Alicent remained silent, her figure still and composed, even as the tension in the room thickened. Aemond felt like a snarling dragon, spewing fire at the calm and poised figure of his mother – but a dragon could burn down a tower if needed. From his vantage point in the corner, Ser Criston, who had been observing the exchange in silence, finally spoke up, his voice stern. "Prince or not, you will show the proper respect when addressing the Queen."

Alicent's voice was calm, final. "It is alright, Ser Criston. My son is evidently still distressed from today's events. You may leave us, Aemond." She did not turn back to look at Aemond, her gaze fixed somewhere distant.

"Mother," Aemond uttered, the anger was still there, but a deep feeling of regret was starting to tightnened in his troath – he had never spoken to his mother this. Had always revered her as the woman who had always loved him, would always love and cherish him, eyes or no eyes. The woman who had taken his side on Driftmark, who had been willing to draw blood for him. So why was he so angry? Because you know of another woman who would have taken your side on Driftmark now, a smooth voice whispered in his mind. He could imagine Lady Dayne, except instead of the little street urchin clinging to you, it was him – holding you as you were soothing him and urling insults to the Strong. Nevertheless, although Aemond knew he had won the argument, the victory was hollow and left a bitter taste in his mouth.

As Aemond stormed out of his mother's solar, the door slammed shut with a force that was quite petulant and wholly unbefitting of his princely demeanor. The urge to visit Vhagar tugged at him; her presence, the soothing texture of her scales, and the smoldering depths of her yellow eyes often brought him solace in tumultuous times. Soaring through the skies on her back, he found unparalleled freedom, a sense of true self that grounded him amidst the chaos of court life. But today, his steps wavered, his usual path to where Vhagar rested, momentarily forgotten.

A different impulse guided him instead, steering his course through the corridors of the castle. He caught sight of a maid, her steps quick and purposeful towards the kitchens. In a swift motion, Aemond reached out, his hand gently but firmly grasping her arm. His voice, though laced with the lingering storm of his recent encounter, carried a softer edge. "Tell me, where in the castle is the Dayne retinue lodging?"

The maid, attempting to maintain her composure, did everything to avoid the intense gaze of his solitary eye, stuttered her reply. "In... the west wing, my prince," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. With a nod of acknowledgement, Aemond released her, his mind now set on a new destination.

Navigating the labyrinth of corridors towards the West wing, Prince Aemond was in a whirlwind as each step he took was shadowed by uncertainty - would you be there in your quarters? And if so, would you welcome his presence? He wondered if the radiant spark that had lit your eyes earlier, the one that had captivated him so completely, would still shine when faced with him alone. Doubt nagged at him, whispering questions of whether you might prefer solitude over his company. He shook his head, none of it mattered; the second-guessing, the fear. He needed to see you, to lay eyes on you and ensure your well-being. These thoughts propelled him towards your quarters, and he felt more like a dragon than ever before, like a great beast tracking its prey before feasting – unrelenting, with a singular purpose. You.

As Prince Aemond neared the West wing, he was met with a contingent of guards adorned with the Dayne sigil – a white fallen star against a field of lilac. A frown marred his features. Where had these men been when you needed them most? "I wish to see my betrothed." Aemond’s tone left no place for arguments.

However, one of the guards, an older man with a graying beard and sharp brown eyes, appeared unmoved by Aemond's royal status and instead eyed the prince distrustfully. "The lady is currently resting after a taxing day... My prince" The last part was definitely added as an afterthought.

Bastard, Aemond thought angrily, did he not know he was speaking to a prince? How dare this commoner (who had let harm come to you) come between him and his need to see you! Aemond's sneer was barely concealed. "I'm well aware of her trying day, as I was present," he retorted, trying to quell the anger that pulsed in his veins. "Is it a Dornish custom then, that betrothed couples cannot converse? Especially after one of the party saved the other. Quite a peculiar custom if you ask me."

Another younger guard grumbled “Not as much as fucking your siblings...” If Aemond was not so consumed with thoughts of you, he would have had whipped this guard for the insolence.

The older guard's expression soured further, his eyes narrowing. "Given today’s events, where one of your men assaulted our lady, you'll understand my prince,” definitely a sneer” “Our caution.”

"And the man responsible has been dealt with," Aemond countered firmly, his gaze unwavering.

The standoff continued for a tense moment before the older guard relented under Aemond's intense gaze. For once, Aemond was quite satisfied that his one eye could make even the fiercest of men grow uncomfortable, it helped to get his bidding done. The guard led the prince to a corner door and knocked briskly. "My lady, Prince Aemond is here to see you," he announced.

The response came in the form of your familiar, melodious voice, which had haunted Aemond's thoughts throughout the day. "Come in!" you called out, and Aemond felt a mixture of relief and apprehension as he prepared to enter.

Upon opening the room, Aemond was met with a scene quite unexpected. There you were, center stage in the spacious chamber, having exchanged your earlier attire for a strikingly different ensemble. You were adorned in a long, elegant purple tunic with short sleeves that left your arms gracefully exposed. Underneath, a pair of voluminous white breeches reached down to your calves, leaving the lower parts of your legs exposed. Aemond gulped loudly at the sight of you, he had never seen a young lady dressed in such a manner. Were all Dornish ladies such beautiful women, who scorned proper attire? Were all Dornish ladies so... enticing? No, Aemond thought decidedly, you must be one of a kind, a lone bright star in the otherwise dark skies of his life.

Yet, it was the action before him that truly caught him off guard. You were in the midst of a tussle with the same young boy from earlier - Daven, was it? You were attempting to apply soap to his hair, a task he seemed to be resisting with all the vigor a 5-year-old boy could muster. On the large bed nearby, another boy of a similar age sat, munching on a bright red apple, his eyes wide with fascination as he observed the struggle.

“My Lady... Am I... Bothering you? Aemond muttered, at a lost feeling like he might be intruding on such a strange, yet merry moment.”

Your smile bloomed like a desert rose at dawn, eyes sparkling with the kind of joy that one might associate with discovering a long-lost treasure, or seeing a long-lost friend... Or lover. Gently, you shifted the still-pouting boy in your arms to face Aemond, calling to him with a warmth that melted the icy barriers around the prince's heart. "Look, Davos! Our brave prince who saved us earlier has come to see us!" The boy, Davos, offered a shy smile and a timid wave, his earlier resistance forgotten in the presence of his hero.

Aemond felt an unfamiliar flush of warmth spread across his cheeks under your gaze, filled with gratitude and something deeper, something that seemed to stir the very core of his being. The usual fire that raged within him, driving his every ambition and desire, seemed to simmer down into a comforting warmth, a feeling he couldn't quite place but didn't wish to escape.

His heart pounding a rapid rhythm, Aemond offered a slight bow. "Might I be of assistance, my Lady?"

Your response came with an infectious beam. "Another pair of hands would be most welcome."

Positioning himself to be of help, Aemond muttered, "Guide me to where I can be most useful, my Lady."

With a soft and tender smile, you replied, "I believe, my prince, that you are perfect just where you are."

Perfect right where he is?

Aemond would never leave your side, nothing would ever tear from you and you from him. The Gods had always scorned him since his childhood, this was payment. His due. You were his and he was yours from this day until the end of his days.

Next chapter

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writing-wh0re · 1 year ago

Note

Heyoooo I saw that your requests are open and I'm absolutely screaming because OH MY GOD WHAT A PROMPT LIST

So may I request, “If they touch you again, I’ll break their fucking hands” + Bodyguard AU + Billy Hargrove?

I'd probably faint it you wrote this!! Thank you so so much! 😍💖🙏

All writings will be #writing-wh0re-requests

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,572

Warnings: Smut 18+, Explicit Language, Praise Kink, Sir Kink, Vaginal Intercourse, Unprotected Sex, Oral (female and male receiving), Jealousy, Language.

A/n: I have re-written this so many times trying to make it right, I hope you enjoy this Leyla! Thank you so much for sending this through!

Being the daughter of a powerful man wasn't the most ideal situation but it did have its perks, like getting into exclusive clubs, penthouse apartments in New York and my own sex god of a body guard, can’t complain.

“Y/n, I expect you to be there?”

I flick my eyes up from my phone, looking up at my father, his best friend Mike smirking at my confusion.

“Uhh, could you repeat that?”

My father tuts, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“My birthday party tonight, I'm hoping you'll make an appearance.”

“If I must.” I smile up at my father as he nods, ticking my name on the guest list.

“That completes the list, be there by 9pm.”

My fathers phone buzzes on the table as he excuses himself and walks out of the room. I noticed Billy standing by the door, a swift wink sent my way as I felt my cheeks heat up.

“Will you let me buy you a drink tonight?” Mike asks, his eyes looking from my cleavage to my eyes.

‘Ew’

“Let's see where the night takes us.” I stand from my seat, feeling Billy’s hand on the small of my back as he pulls my chair out for me, guiding me out of the room.

I wave goodbye to my father as Billy and I get into the private elevator, leaving my fathers penthouse.

I lean against the back wall, the cool marble refreshing against my back. Billy leans on the wall to my left, his arms crossed.

“I hate Mike.”

I smirk at his mumbled comment, humming in agreement. Billy pushes off the wall, his body standing in front of mine, towering over me. I look up at him, his hand tucking a fallen strand of hair behind my ear. Billy licks his bottom lip as my heart hammers in my chest. This isn’t the first time I’ve been this close to him. My mind quickly wanders to where I want this to lead, internally slapping myself knowing Billy won’t cross the line. His hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing against my bottom lip. My breathing becomes uneasy, butterflies erupting inside of me.

“He is not buying you a drink, got it?”

I bite my lip, nodding in response as Billy shakes his head.

“Tell me you understand.”

“Yes Sir.” I whisper, watching Billy’s eyes darken as the elevator tings signalling the doors open.

“Good girl.” Billy whispers guiding me out of the elevator and to the car. Billy opens my door, sliding in beside me and providing the driver with directions.

| | | |

I rummage through my closet, sorting through the outfits, trying to find something to grab Billy’s attention.“Oh.” My fingers brush against the red silk dress, “Definitely this one.” I slip out of my robe, pulling the dress up my body, backless with a halter neck, slightly showing off side boob. The dress sits against my mid thigh, the addition of my black stilettos tying the whole outfit together.

I spray myself with perfume, quickly applying clear gloss to my lips. I look over myself in the mirror hoping to drive Billy crazy.

I swing open my bedroom door, meeting Billy in the hallway, his eyes instantly roaming up my body. I smile posing slightly as Billy chuckles.

“You look great.” I compliment, noticing Billy is dressed in all black, a black button up with the top buttons undone and sleeves rolled up, paired with black pants and shoes.

“So do you.” His fingers brush up my arm leaving goosebumps in his wake. Billy bends down slightly, our lips inches away from each other before his phone vibrates, pulling away from me. Billy sighs before answering, quickly finishing the call before looking over at me. “Car is waiting.”

I nod, following Billy to the car, mentally slapping the driver for interrupting our moment.

| | | |

“The princess is here.” Mike beams, my father right by his side.

Billy stays close to me as I hug my father, taking a champagne glass from a nearby waiter. My father quickly dismisses me, walking through the party to greet other people.

“Drink Hargrove?” Mike asks

Billy shakes his head as Mike pouts.

“C’mon it's Silver's birthday.” I slightly cringe at my fathers nickname, watching Billy decline Mike again causing the man to shake his head.

“Well you’re boring.”

“Just doing my job.” Billy retorts.

“Pfff, please, little princess doesn’t need saving here, everyone loves y/n.” Mike smiles, his eyes wandering over me lingering on my side boob as I cross my arms. “You’re stunning.”

Billy’s jaw tightens as he moves closer to me, standing slightly in front of me. I quickly finish my champagne, needing alcohol to get through this night.

“Ah, let me buy you a drink.”

“She’s good.”

“I'm good.”

Billy and I respond at the same time, a small smirk on his lips at my response.

Mike rolls his eyes, walking away from the two of us.

“God why is he so interested in me, he’s literally my dad’s age.” I cringe.

Billy chuckles, his eyes looking at me.

“You’re stunning so I don’t blame him.”

Butterflies erupt inside of me as I blush, hiding my face by looking around the room.

“Here princess.” My whole body stiffens, my eyes widen as Mike’s arm falls around my shoulders. Within an instant Billy pulled me from Mike’s embrace and stood in front of me.

“What the fuck are you doing.” Billy spits, grabbing Mike by the collar.

Mike laughs, avoiding Billy’s gaze.

“Simply providing the princess with a refreshment.”

“After she said no?”

“You’re making a scene.” Mike spits, smiling at a few people looking at him.

“Don’t fucking touch her.”

“How much is Silver paying you to care about her?”

Billy uses his grip on Mike’s collar to throw him to the ground, the drinks he was holding splashing onto himself and the floor.

“Billy, let's go.” I grab his arm, pulling him closer to me as he looks at me, his eyes running over my body quickly for anything out of place, noticing I’m uncomfortable he nods in agreement.

“You’re a fucking idiot, do you know who you’re messing with?”

Billy sighs, turning around to Mike and bending down to his face. Billy whispers something to Mike that makes his eyes go wide before he shakes his head mumbling a ‘Yes Mr Hargrove.’

My mouth falls open in shock as Billy laces his fingers with mine, pulling me through the crowd of people. My eyes quickly scan the room for my father, seeing him with a blonde girl on his lap as she laughs at something he said. I cringe at the sight, thankful that Billy is taking me home.

“What did you say to Mike?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But I want to know Billy, what did you say?” I pull my hand from his, standing in the lobby of my father’s hotel.

Billy tilts his head back a deep sigh leaving his lips, frustration oozing from him. He spins to face me, closing the distance between us, his body heat enveloping me as our eyes lock.

“I told him if he touches you again, I’ll break his fucking hands. No one touches you, especially that jack off.”

My heart races before my mind can process, I wrap my arms around his neck pulling him down to meet my lips. Our kiss is messy, lips, teeth and tongues smashing together as Billy pulls my waist against him, pulling me up into his arms. I wrap my legs around his torso, his hands holding my ass as he walks us towards the waiting car.

We fumble into the car, Billy tells the driver my address before pulling me into his lap, ignoring all his typical road safety rules.

His lips fall to my neck kissing and sucking on my skin, his hands running up and down my exposed back.

“God, I crave you.” His whispered words mixed with his lips on my neck cause my panties to flood with wetness, wanting nothing more than Billy.

“Billy, I need you.”

Billy pulls away from my neck, his eyes locking with mine before flicking to the driver.

“Mind your fucking business and drive the car.”

I blush having forgotten about the driver and hide my face in his neck.

“You’re safe with me.” Billy whispers, running his fingers up and down my back.

“I know.” I whisper, kissing his neck, dragging my tongue up throat as he grips my hips. I smirk against his skin, having found his sweet spot. I suck and bite leaving my mark on him.

The car stops as Billy rushes us out of the vehicle without another word to the driver.

We barely made it to my apartment without pulling our clothes off each other. The moment the door was shut Billy was pulling my dress off. The only light filling the room is from the city below, a mix of whites, reds and blues bounce off the walls and our skin.

“You’re beautiful baby.”

My heart flutters, my fingers working on the buttons of Billy’s shirt. My fingers drag down his chest, fumbling with his belt as Billy’s hands cup my breasts, his mouth capturing my nipples, sucking on the hardened nub.

“Fuck Billy.”

“Uh uh, what do you call me baby.” “Sir.”

Billy groans, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pulls my head back, locking his eyes with mine.

“Such a good girl for me, aren’t you baby.”

I nod as Billy chuckles, shaking his head.

“Yes sir.”

Billy smirks, kissing me softly, biting my bottom lip and pulling it away from me.

I pull Billy towards me by his belt loops, undoing his pants as I drop to my knees, my heels providing me with more height, becoming level with his cock. I look up at Billy, holding his dick in my hand, dragging my tongue from the base to the tip. His breath becomes shaky, my tongue swirls around the throbbing head, sliding my lips down his length. I feel his fingers tangle in my hair helping guide my mouth up and down his cock. I tilt my head back, taking more of his cock slipping into my throat as Billy’s moans fill the air.

“Holy fuck, yes baby.”

I moan around him, pulling his cock from my lips with a pop as I tap it against my tongue, kitten licking the tip.

“God.” Billy moans, his hands running through his hair as I smirk up at him, winking.

Billy bends down quickly pulling me up into his arms. His cock brushes against my red thong, his lips smash against mine, walking us towards the huge living room window and pushing me against it.

I gasp looking at the city below, holding onto Billy tighter, my heart racing at the thought of the only thing separating us from the world is the cold glass.

“You’re safe with me, remember baby?”

“Always.” I whisper, his smile illuminated by the city light below.

Billy softly places me down, falling to his knees and placing my leg over his shoulder. He places a soft kiss against my clothed clit; I whimper at the contact, rocking my hips forward as he pulls my thong to the side.

“You’re soaking, so needy for me.” I moan in response, his tongue tracing my pussy lips, teasing me. He blows air on my glistening slit, his fingers slipping inside of me. My head rests against the window, my fingers tangling in his hair, his tongue swirling around my throbbing clit, dragging up and down, tracing numbers earning a gasp to fall from my lips. He curls his fingers inside of me, keeping a slow steady pace to match his tongue.

“Fuck Billy.”

Billy groans against me, lapping at my core as if he would never get the chance again, savouring every stroke. His free hand reaches up my body, cupping my boob and squeezing the skin as he sucks my clit, Billy’s fingers pressing against my g-spot.

“Right there, fuck.” My legs tremble against the glass, Billy continues his pace, my fingers pull at the strands of his hair, my hips grinding against his tongue and fingers to reach my high.

“I’m-fuck, cumming Sir.”

Billy moans against my core as I tighten around his fingers, covering them in cum.

My chest rises and falls, Billy kisses my thighs, trailing kisses up my body. His lips wrap around my nipple looking up at me.

“Please, Sir, fuck me, I need you Billy.”

Billy smirks, pulling away from my body as he runs his cock up and down my slit, the nudges against my clit causing small shocks to rush through my body. Billy holds my leg up under my knee before slipping inside of me.

I gasp at the size of him, his thick cock stretching my walls. Billy smirks at me, looking down at his cock buried inside of me.

“You were made for me baby.”

“Only you.”

Billy kisses me, his hips thrusting in and out of me slowly, building a rhythm. My mouth falls open, the sound of skin slapping skin accompanying my moans.

“Look at me baby.”

I lock eyes with Billy, my hands tangling in his hair.

“There’s my pretty girl, you take my cock so well.”

I groan in response, my pussy tightening around his cock at the praise. Billy licks his lips, his signature smirk on his face as he grabs my other leg under my knee, placing his hands on my ass, holding me off the ground.

“Fuck.” I dig my nails into his shoulders leaving marks on his skin.

The new angle allows for Billy to slip deeper inside of me, the grip on my ass helping his thrusts as he bounces me on his cock.

Billy captures my lips in his, our moans mixing as our tongues fight against each other.

“I’m close.” I whisper, pulling Billy closer to me for support as I slip my fingers between my slit, rubbing my clit.

“Fuck baby.” Billy moans, watching me play while his cock continues to slide in and out of me.

“God, don’t stop, please.”

Billy picks up his pace causing my legs to tremble around his arms. His hands grip my ass tighter, his pace slowing slightly.

“Cum for me baby, cover my cock”

My mind falls fuzzy, feeling his cock twitch inside of me, his lips fall to my neck, sucking and biting as his moans vibrate against my skin.

“I want you to fill me Sir, please.”

“God, I’m going to ruin you.”

Billy opens my legs a little more, going faster before his hips falter, cumming deep inside of me.

His head falls on my shoulder, keeping his cock inside of me, both of us catching our breath, holding each other.

Billy gently pulls out of me, letting my legs down, my heels unbalancing me slightly.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck you against this window.”

I giggle slightly at Billy’s comment, looking over the window that is slightly fogged up, a few imprints marking the clear glass.

“I’ve always wanted you to fuck me.”

Billy smiles, cupping my face in his hands and kissing my lips softly as if I could break.

“Please stay.” I whisper, wrapping my hand around Billy’s wrists, his eyes searching mine.

“Baby, I will never leave you.”

#writing-wh0re-requests #smut #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove one shot #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove blurb #billy hargrove x y/n #stranger things smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #billy hargove fanfic #smutty fanfiction #fanfiction #dacre montgomery

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hollandorks · 1 year ago

Text

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter twelve

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: I enjoy this chapter so much, that is all. I also enjoy the chapter I just wrote but you don't get that yet (hehe). This chapter is a little on the shorter side but that's because the next bit is a Bruce POV interlude! Thanks as usual for the comments etc, I love feedback and I love making y'all lose your minds with cliffhangers!

Series Masterlist

word count: 2k

She screamed as hands grabbed her and yanked her off of the motorcycle.

A primal need to survive rose within y/n as hands dragged her into the smoke. She thrashed wildly, twisting every which way to try and escape the iron grip that held her. Her hands turned into claws and she swiped at whatever she could find. Her nails met flesh and she abruptly hit the asphalt as a man yelled.

Go, go, go, she shouted to herself, her breath coming in panicked pants. “Help!” she called, but she didn’t have enough air to shout. She was almost to the motorcycle, hands reaching for the key to turn it, when she was grabbed again.

“Bitch,” the man she had seen earlier snarled into her ear. The fourth murder suspect. Hell, he wasn’t even a suspect. She knew he had killed those two people. She had seen it.

Pain exploded across her face as his fist connected.

This time she did scream.

He laughed. “All this time searching, and you’re right here on our doorstep.”

She took a swipe at him with her nails again. He moved easily out of the way. She tried to run again but he simply caught her like a cat toying with its prey before killing it.

Because he was going to kill her. And he was going to do it before Batman or Gordon or anyone else could save her.

Behind her was the man who’d grabbed her, both of his hands bleeding where she had scratched him. She was between the two men, the motorcycle too far, Batman nowhere to be seen.

She went still. She looked around wildly for an escape, any escape, but saw none. There was still gunfire from the front of the pub. She could hear sirens now, but they were too distant. They would be too late.

She closed her eyes.

“There’s a good girl,” her murderer said. She shivered and almost gagged at the words. “No use fighting it. You saw something you weren’t supposed to, and it’s my job to take care of it, you see. You can’t hide forever, even with your little vigilante friend.” He snorted. “Some good he did you.”

When her eyes opened, they landed on the gun at his waist.

She had never shot a gun before, but if she could grab it…

She turned in a slow circle, a trapped animal, wild with panic, searching for a way out under a false calm.

When she again faced her killer, there was a soft sound behind her. He frowned.

The smoke was clearing now.

With another sudden gust of wind, it cleared enough for her to see the man she’d scratched , now unconscious on the ground.

She ran towards him and the shadow that stood over him.

The other man grabbed for her but she managed to shrug out of her jacket and get away.

She was almost to her savior when the shot rang out.

She gasped and stumbled to a halt. She waited for the pain, the agony, the sudden onslaught of darkness bringing her death.

When she opened her eyes, the Batman was in front of her.

The shot had hit him the chest. She could see the mark from it, the bullet perfectly pressed into the armor right over his heart.

The man pointing the gun stared at them with wide eyes.

Then he cursed and ran.

Batman stepped after him, but more shots rang out. He shoved her against the wall and covered her with his body as he took one, two, three more bullets to the chest like it was nothing. He growled and knocked the shooter unconscious as soon as the gun clicked, empty.

The alley lit up in red and blue as the shooter hit the ground with a thud.

“I’ve got you,” Batman said, his voice almost hoarse. He turned and caged her in with his arms, her own personal bulletproof shield. She stared up at him, still sucking in panicked breaths. Her face was wet with tears, her vision blurry with them.

“You–” she said but it came out a sob. “They shot you. Oh my god.” Her hands fumbled over his chest in a search for blood. No way he had taken four shots and come away completely unscathed.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. There was something dangerous in his voice.

“Are you hurt?” she asked then hiccuped on another sob.

He ripped off a glove and cupped her face with his bare hand.

Her entire body melted into the touch. She whimpered softly and closed her eyes. “I’m okay,” she said, because she was now. His skin was hot, almost burning where he caressed her cheek. He slipped the hand down her neck and angled her head towards the light.

“You’re bleeding,” he said.

“I’m okay,” she repeated. He let out a long breath. “He got away,” she said, because that seemed important.

“But you’re alive,” Batman said.

“Hey!” Gordon’s familiar voice shouted.

“I have his picture,” she said. She didn’t want Batman to stop touching her face. The touch was a comfort, an anchor, a safe haven in a storm. His hands were callused but gentle. “A clear picture.”

Batman let her go. His absence was an immediate ache in her chest.

“What the hell happened?” Gordon demanded in an almost-shout as police swarmed the alley. “You were supposed to take her to the store or something, not to a gunfight!”

She realized that Batman had stepped in front of her again. As if Gordon was going to shoot at her and he was ready to take the bullet. She leaned around him. The presence of Gordon calmed her further. For the moment, she was safe, and Batman was safe, and that was all that mattered. Everything else was a problem for later that she shoved into a locked box in her mind.

As Batman explained what happened to Gordon, y/n clung to his cape like a kid with a security blanket. She wanted his hand on her skin again, wanted the anchor of his touch, but he had already put his glove back on.

With a jolt, she quickly pulled up her recent pictures with her free hand.

“Here,” she said, holding it out between the two men, interrupting whatever argument they were having. “I got a picture of him. It’s him. I know it’s him. He admitted it to me and everything.”

Gordon took the camera. “I need to–”

“Keep it, yeah, I know. Just don’t delete anything.” She waved a hand and almost tipped over. Now that the adrenaline was fading, she thought she might pass out.

Gordon cursed and paced in a small circle. When he paused, he crossed his arms, then used one hand to point at her. “I’m putting a police detail on your house. And I’m taking you home and speaking with Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth both.”

She nodded, but she wasn’t really listening. Batman was watching her, a hand on her elbow, steadying her, his mouth turned down with concern.

She met his eyes.

He looked away, as usual.

“Stay right here,” Gordon said. “I’ll send someone over to get a statement, then I’m taking you straight home.”

“But won’t they know who I am as soon as they see the police there every day?” she asked. Her brain was finally starting to catch up with things.

“It’s only a matter of time before they figure it out,” Gordon said, his voice gentling. “I’d rather err on the side of caution. Now stay put, both of you.”

Gordon strode away, taking command of the scene, having her camera bagged as evidence as he went.

She didn’t move from Batman’s side. She didn’t want to. Men were being led away in cuffs or on stretchers and she let the movements hold her gaze until she landed on a familiar officer.

Martinez saw her at the same time and jogged over. “Hey, you okay?” he said, not even bothering to acknowledge the hulking figure that had once again moved to block her view. She thumped a fist into Batman’s armored back to try to get him to move. What, did he think Martinez was a threat?

“Fit as a fiddle,” she said. She moved to the side so she could see Martinez. “Except for whatever adrenaline and fear do to your brain.” She went to brush hair out of her face and touched the spot where the man had hit her. She winced. “Okay, and the tiny bump on the head.”

“God, what happened? I heard Gordon’s call come over and we got like, a million calls reporting gunshots and–” He reached out a hand, probably to make sure y/n really was okay, only to be blocked again by Batman. He looked up at him. “Good thing you were here, man.”

“Good thing,” Batman said in his low growl. She heard the threat in it even if Martinez didn’t. Her brows drew together. Martinez was about as menacing as a puppy.

“I gotta go,” Martinez said as someone called his name. “Text me later!”

He jogged away.

“Friend of yours?” Batman asked wryly. He glanced down at her and away.

“You always look away from me,” she said instead of answering the question. “It’s like you’re scared to look at me or something. Am I that hideous?” She meant it as a joke but it came out weird, strangled.

She saw him swallow even as he still refused to look at her. “Because I’m scared to get too close.” His voice was a low rasp. There it was again–that hint of familiarity, like a dream fading upon waking.

“Why?”

“Because you–terrify me.”

The words sent a crackle of electricity through her. She opened her mouth to ask why again, but Gordon was back.

“Let’s go, kid.” He grabbed her by the elbow but she dug in her heels.

“Wait,” she said, but she didn’t know what for. She pulled her arm away. She went to turn back to Batman, to make him answer her questions, to get him to say why she terrified him.

But he was gone.

–

Wayne Tower’s lobby was ablaze with light. The whole security team was there, in a standoff with several GCPD officers. Gordon spoke briefly with Blake and a uniformed officer before escorting her upstairs with Martinez.

She couldn’t stop thinking of Batman’s words. Because you terrify me. Her? Terrify him? But why? How? She remembered the warmth of his hand on her face, so gentle despite the violence he had just displayed towards their attackers.

She wondered, albeit briefly, if her mind was focusing on that instead of what had happened to her, like some form of shock.

As the elevator opened, all thoughts of Batman fled.

Because standing there, looking rumpled like he’d rolled out of bed, was Bruce Wayne.

He was lurking behind Alfred, eyes half closed in the bright foyer lights, his clothes baggy and ratty like he was homeless rather than a billionaire.

He had never looked better, or more far away.

Seeing him there–even knowing that it was Gordon that had requested he be there and not a concern for her safety–loosened something within her.

Alfred rushed towards her and gathered her in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re alright, dear girl,” he said into her hair. “Gordon called and explained.” Her eyes met Bruce’s over Alfred’s shoulder. She expected him to walk away like he so often did whenever they were in the same room lately.

Instead, he held her gaze steadily. She felt like he was trying to tell her something, but she didn’t know what.

The thought brought tears to her eyes as the night’s events caught up with her. Bruce was so far away from her and the distance had never been more apparent. She used to be able to read him with a single glance and vice versa. Now his gaze was a wall of blue ice, as distant from her as the Antarctic.

“I’m okay,” she said, but she wasn’t sure she was.

Next Chapter

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darlingsfandom · 4 months ago

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I love your fics, they're like sooooo good!! I find myself in need of some angst fics... Maybe someone, Cillian or reader, is like caught cheating and they're angry, but then they find common ground and forgive maybe? Or not lol... But thanks so much for gracing us with delicious Cillian fics 😏

Thank you lovely 💕💕 I always try my best.

TW: Angst! Swearing

It was a simple question. Just a question that he had heard a million times. At first it bothered him and even though he says it’s old news now, it still bothered him to the core.

“Have you heard that Y/N has been spotted with another man?”

He hated it! He always screamed on the inside holding back his tongue the best he could with the fakest smile painted across his face. He’d always give the same dry response of “yeah” or “no comment” Everyone wanted to know!

You on the other hand took it in a different direction with just running away or just stayed silent when the press would bring him up. Ever since the break up anytime you were seen with a man it was your new lover! And you rolled your eyes every time.

As time went on it was been two months since you broke up with Cillian and your heart still hurt. You still wore the necklace he gave you with the silver “C” on it. You still kept his shirts to keep his smell close. You weren’t over him. Cillian was your first everything really! Your first kiss , first sexual partner! The two of you met on the set of Red Eye when you were just an extra but he took a liking to you. A young new actress trying to make her way in Hollywood but you didn’t try the whole “I’ll do anything” act with him. You didn’t freak out over him when you first met.

Cillian grew fond of you quickly. The way your smile lit up the room, your laugh made everyone else laugh, how you’d always say bless you even to animals! He always seen this little sparkle in your eye whenever he’d get you going about one of your favorite subjects. He made the first move to ask you out and at first you swore you were dreaming because there was no way he was actually asking you out but he did!

Your thoughts were interrupted when a loud knock was being pounded into your front door. The rain outside started pouring down as you approached the door with confusion written all over your face.

“What the fuck are you doing here ?” You yelled as tears instantly fell down your cheeks. Cillian stood there with sadden eyes and a bouquet of flowers. A few seconds passed before you sucked in a sharp breath and let him in. He took off the hood of his coat before placing it on the coat rack and followed you to the living room. “Answer my question!” You snapped.

“I’m here to win ya back!” Cillian sat next to you. You held your head high while wiping away the salty tears.

“Win me back? Why? I wasn’t good enough for you! You cheated on me!”

“I know and it was a mistake! A drunken mistake! I need ya baby! I can’t get ya off me mind! All I hear about is yer new boyfriends!” He wrapped his hand around yours and squeezed it tight making you look away as he pleaded. You wanted to hate him, you could taste a bitter taste in your mouth and your heart was ripping into pieces all over again. Neither of you spoke a word , just sat there listening to the storm whip up outside, the rain pouring down and pounding against the windows.

“You still cheated on me! I gave you everything! Literally everything!” You blurted out. Cillian looked at you like a lost puppy. Your bottom lip quivered as he moved closer to you and quickly pulled you into his arms. A flash flood of tears poured from your eyes. Those arms no longer felt like home , it wasn’t safe, it wasn’t warm… it was uncomfortable . You were in the arms of a stranger.

“I’ll say I’m sorry to ya everyday until I die. I need ya.” Cillian kissed the topped of your head.

“I don’t know… you hurt me more than anyone could imagine!” You sobbed into his chest allowing your tears and snot rub into his shirt while he tried to sooth you by rubbing your back but it just made you more upset! This was heartbreak at its best. Cillian pulled you back and sighed as he looked at how broken you were. He did this to you! His soft sweet girl had been reduced to this. It was all his fault and he knew it.

“Please take me back darlin! I need ya! Yer me better half and we both know it!” He ran his thumbs under your cheeks making you look anywhere else but at him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him because you knew that if you did you’d find yourself taking him back. You shouldn’t even be thinking about taking him back! Yet you were! He had made you the happiest you’ve ever felt but at the same time he broke your heart and crushed you into this shell. “Please! I’m beggin ya!” Cillian got down on his knees and wrapped his arms around your legs like a child who had lost his mother.

“I… I don’t know. You damaged me and left me to sit here and think about how terrible I am…”

“But you’re not terrible !”

“I must’ve been something because you still stuck your dick in some other bitches pussy!” The anger was finally hitting you. It was only a matter of time before that emotion was going to swallow you alive.

“Her pussy was nothin compared to yers!”

“Wow !” You rolled your eyes so hard you swore they almost fell out. A scuff left your lips as you tried to pull your legs back but he wouldn’t let go.

“Tell you what, fuck me good enough and I’ll take you back, but if you can’t make me cum before you do… you never get me back.” You pulled on his hair while he got back on his feet.

This was his mission! He wanted you back and he was going to do what it took to have you back.

#cillian murphy masterlist #cillian murphy #emsblurbs #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy drabble #cillian murphy blurb #cillian murphy x fem!reader

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