#he also has white hair i think??????????? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

damneddamsy · 24 hours ago

Text

falling | joel miller x fem!oc (part iv)

Summary: It's a day out on the town, and Jackson has much more to offer than just a home and traded goods. Perspective, comfort, and a nice helping of lovesickness—all of which catch Joel's eye.

a/n: did you know you can only mention fifty people in a post? that's just plain boring. and no more than five people in a comment? RUDE. and did anyone else see that SNL episode with Pedro and his hip thrusts, and just fucking die? yeah, me too. also - i had so much FUN writing this chapter, the feels, the angst, the yearning, the loooove. thank you all so much, and I hope you like this long ass chapter!

Joel didn’t like looking in the mirror for too long.

It wasn’t vanity—never had been—but it showed too much. Told the truth in ways he didn’t much care for. The deep lines, the greying scruff, the years stacked on top of each other like weathered wood, each one heftier than the last. He preferred the delusion, the easy forgetfulness that came with living day to day, not thinking too hard about the good ol' days or how much he wished time hadn't gotten his hands on him. But today?

Well, today he damn near felt good in his own skin.

The clothes, that Leela generously offered, helped. Goddamn, they smelled amazing. Fresh. Worn but not ragged. The denim was sturdy but soft, the fleece underlayer warm and snug. The shearling jacket fit like something out of another life—one where he had more time, where he cared about how he looked. Even his boots, though a little tight, made him feel like he was standing taller. He couldn't even pronounce the brand of the damn thing—French apostrophes, all that fancy bullshit—but whatever it was, it smelled nice, felt nice.

Oh, for sure: Ellie was bound to give him shit. Tommy even more so.

But really... he couldn't give a flying fuck. Today he felt like he was Joel from Texas again. Like he wasn’t some worn-down relic with a bad knee and a worse past.

On the note of Leela, the big, white house across the street was officially back in order. Finally functional after hours of wrestling with the complex fucking wiring, one of the few cons of such a massive home. Not that it had been much of a fight after the resident brainiac showed up—Leela had already pinpointed the problem in minutes and quietly rattled it off like it was second nature. All he had to do was be her muscle, follow along and weld it. It was more attractive than any love or sex this world had to offer.

Catching his reflection again in the front mirror of Leela's home, Joel ruffled the front of his hair, combing down the longer strands at the back, brushing at his jaw, at the scruff that had grown heavier these days, adjusting the collar, smoothing out the sleeve.

He hadn’t meant to get this caught up in it, hadn’t meant to feel this—what, good? Yeah, good. Christ, what a joke.

He’d just turned to grab Maya's baby blanket off the couch, the breathy voice from the stairs made him stiffen.

“Jesus, Joel.”

He looked up.

Leela was halfway down the staircase, cradling Maya against her chest. She wasn’t wearing the usual loose nightgowns or sweats she’d holed herself up in for months. No, this time, she was in clean, fitted jeans, and a long-sleeved shirt in that same soft blue he liked on her. Her hair was brushed smooth down her back, tucked behind her ears, not tangled and loose like usual.

For the first time, he really saw her. Not just the soft, exhausted mother. Not just the lonely woman who never let anyone too close. Her. Tall and breathtaking. Arch calves, thighs, the swell of her hips, the softness at her love handles that hadn’t quite gone away after childbirth.

And because life had a twisted sense of humour, because the moment was already damn near suffocating from seeing her, she had to go and hit him with—

“I thought you were my dad from the back.”

Joel took that one like a sucker punch straight to the gut. He had to fight the instinct to wince, to let it show. At least she didn’t say granddad, he reasoned, trying to patch up what little was left of his dignity. Small mercies.

He exhaled, fixing his fist into the coat pockets, forcing himself to smirk. “Yeah? He must’ve been one hell of a good-lookin’ guy.”

Leela huffed out a laugh, resting the baby’s cheek against her shoulder. “He loved suede. A huge show-off.”

“Well,” he drawled, tugging at the sleeve, “that's where we disagree. At least the man had taste.”

“He also loved polka-dots,” she pointed out.

He clicked his tongue. “I take the fifth, thanks.”

That earned him another laugh, light and easy, like he’d actually said something funny. He didn’t think too hard about how that was probably all he was to her—just some seasoned guy lending a hand. A reliable acquaintance. Nothing more, nothing less.

But then, feeling excluded, Maya let out a breathless little giggle—one of those soft, airy sounds she always seemed to save just for him—and he feared for whatever was left of his soul, crushing.

Maya was grinning up at him, tiny fists wriggling in her mittens, legs kicking against Leela’s side, looking like a baby worth a thousand pictures in a camera. Bundled up in a white cotton onesie, all warm and snug, her beanie perched on her head with those stupid little ears sticking up like a baby bear. Everything was a size too big like she was still growing into the world.

Joel clutched at his chest, mock-staggering back. “You’re breakin’ my goddamned heart, doll,” he murmured, unable to resist a toothy grin, as he held out his arms for her. “Look at you. C’mere, beautiful girl. G'morning.”

Maya squirmed excitedly, tiny mitten-clad hands grasping the air, and as Joel habitually pressed a warm kiss into her cheek, tempted to steal four more, he caught a glimpse of the gold ‘L’ embroidered on the chest of the onesie. Leela’s old hand-me-down that had survived the test of time.

“Lost an eardrum trying to get her into that,” Leela admitted.

She shook her head but passed Maya over, cracking her knuckles absently as she stretched out her arms, unease becoming her. He adjusted Maya against his side, settling her little weight against him. That was her seat for the rest of the day today.

Then, as if debating something, she asked, “Do you really think it’s fine? Bringing her outside? I'm worried she'll fall sick or...”

Joel arched a brow. “I told you. You’re not goin’ there without me, and Maya’s not goin’ anywhere without either of us.”

Leela chewed on that, still unsure.

Maria had been insistent about her showing up, about giving her insight into the lightning harvester with workers—the innovation she’d designed, the one they were planning to station right outside the dam. The whole quadrant was already in progress, groundwork was being laid, and people getting involved. The biggest project Jackson had taken on in a long while.

Even after Joel had warned Maria that Leela was banged up and still on the mend, she'd cherry-picked the argument and cornered him by labelling him an 'overbearing son of a bitch who was getting on her last nerve'. He'd essentially shut up after that since Maria still scared him witless.

"Look, I've got the kid. You do your thing," Joel said, adjusting Maya as she wriggled against him. "I'll just hang back at the square with Tommy and the rest, stay close by. I'll check up on you after."

Leela pressed her lips together, clearly thinking it over.

Joel tried his hand at persuasion. “Y'know, you've been holed up here for three months.”

Leela blinked. Like she was only just realizing it. Her brows furrowed, fingers lifting as she counted—one, two, three. Each number dropped a new rock in Joel’s stomach.

“More, actually.” Her voice was distant like she was doing the math in real time. “I delivered Maya at home. Nearly... eight months now.”

Eight months. Eight months since she’d stepped beyond these walls, since she’d breathed fresh air, and been around people.

He hadn’t let himself think about it before—hadn’t wanted to—but now the image was there, unshakable. Leela, alone. Covered in sweat, spasming in pain. Bloody, weak, feeling like she was dying, like the walls were closing in, like no one in the world could help her. The raw struggle of it.

His stomach turned. No—Maria would’ve made sure she had someone. She had to have. Someone must've heard her.

Joel was aware of what that kind of loneliness did to a person. How it made you shrink, made you start believing that was all there was—that the world outside didn’t need you anymore. And she’d stayed in here. For eight goddamn months. That wasn’t living.

He cleared his throat, forcing the thought away. No use stewing in it.

“Well,” he muttered, his hand reaching for the door handle, “’nuff said. Let’s get this show on the road.”

People in Jackson knew Joel Miller.

Same as Maria. Same as Tommy. They knew him for his angry brow, the way his mouth rarely broke from that grim, set line. They knew the sharpness in his eyes, the way he cut through a room without saying a word. They knew he was a hardass bastard. He didn’t make small talk. Didn’t go out of his way to be liked. He knew he scared off plenty of folks just by standing there, arms crossed, expression set like granite. And that suited him just fine. People left him be.

So seeing him now—walking through town cradling a baby instead of a rifle, with a woman most thought was a ghost at his side—that was gonna be the topic of the damn day.

He could feel the looks, hear the murmurs, the way conversations stuttered as he passed. And he did not give a shit. Let ‘em talk. Let ‘em wonder.

It wasn’t like he was breaking news—his neighbours saw him come and go from her big white house as he pleased. Enough times that people could put two and two together. But this? Out in broad daylight, baby in tow? Now what the hell was going on?

Joel wasn’t the kind of man people expected to be carrying a baby. Much less one that looked at him like he hung the damn moon. And yet, here was Maya, snug against his chest, her tiny fingers curled into his fleece collar, drooling on his coat like it belonged to her.

And Leela—well. She was another matter entirely. She wasn’t just quiet. She was tense. She kept close, but not close enough to touch. Her shoulders were drawn up, her hands flexing and unflexing like she was trying to shake off the feeling of being watched.

And it wasn’t hard to guess why.

People hadn’t seen her in months. Half of Jackson had probably forgotten she even existed. The other half had started whispering about why. Joel had heard it in passing, plenty of rumours. Theories. That she was still sick. That she was holed up with her baby because she was too ashamed to be seen alone. That she was broken, not quite right in the head.

He knew better. He knew she was just trying to get by. Trying to put herself together while holding onto a child that didn’t feel quite like hers yet. And this? Being out here? This was the most out of her comfort zone she’d been in a long time.

Joel kept a steady pace, letting Leela take in what she hadn’t seen in months. He pointed things out as they walked—the grocery store with the fresh carrots now, thanks to the greenhouse. The bar with the good music. The repair shop he visited often. The little barbecue place that always smelled so mouthwatering it was damn near criminal.

He did it all for her. To keep her focused on something else—something that wasn’t the way people watched her. Wasn’t the way she was already winding herself up, bracing for something bad that wasn’t coming.

Joel kept a close eye on her, shifting Maya in his arms, pretending not to notice the way her breathing went uneven. The way she stiffened every time someone got too close. The way she gripped Joel’s elbow a little tighter like she had to remind herself he was still there.

Then, like it was nothing, like this was any other day, he muttered, “Y’ever had barbecue before?”

Leela blinked, like the question startled her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah?” He echoed with a smirk, shifting Maya higher in his arms who was listening to his voice drum in his chest. “That didn’t sound real confident.”

She let out a breath, still gripping his jacket tight. “I have, just… not in a very long time.”

“Well,” he drawled, eyes on the path ahead like this was already settled, “when you’re done with work, I’m takin’ you out. Get you a nice smoked brisket. A big slice of pecan pie with cream. How 'bout it?”

Leela glanced at him, agape. “I don’t... you don’t have to—”

“I know,” he cut in. “I want to.”

She didn’t say anything. A moment later, he felt her hand slip lower, brushing against his wrist. Just a light touch, nothing much. But Joel knew what it meant. The world around her was too much, too fast, too loud. Drowning in the noise of it all.

So, soft and low, he asked, “D’you wanna head inside for a bit?”

Leela barely hesitated. Just nodded once, fast, reaching for Maya like she needed something to anchor herself.

But Maya wasn't having it at all. She whined a stubborn noise, little hands grasping at Joel’s coat, face burrowing into the material, refusing to be handed off when she had just gotten cosy.

And maybe Joel imagined it—but he thought he saw something in Leela’s eyes splinter, that little rejection cutting deeper than it should’ve. A flicker in her dark eyes she buried quick. It looked a hell of a lot like hurt.

But she didn’t say anything. Didn’t react. Just let her hands fall, face blank and turned for the closest door.

Joel followed without a word, close enough, an arm outstretched around her, never touching, his presence simply a buffer between her and the rest of the world.

Inside, it was quiet. The clothing store, he quickly realized. The shelves were full but mismatched, stocked with whatever could be traded, salvaged, or repurposed. Nothing had price tags—Jackson ran on barter. Jackets, boots, canned food, and old records. Everything was up for negotiation. You talked it out with the shopkeep and settled on a fair deal.

Leela didn’t say a word. Just let out a slow, shuddering breath, stepping into a corner aisle, hidden away, and pressing her slick palms against the wooden shelf.

Joel watched her quietly, stroking Maya's back. Eight months locked up in that house, barely speaking to a soul. Now, she is back in the thick of it, remembering how to breathe in open air. No wonder, she looked like she was trying to find her footing. It made sense; people forgot how to be around people.

It was something he'd seen before. The way a person stepped out of the dark after too long, how the world suddenly felt like it could swallow them whole. Some folks got jumpy. Some shut down. Leela was somewhere in between—standing still, silent, stiff as a board, like she was trying to keep herself from bolting.

He’d seen that before, too.

Her fingers curled into the edge of the shelf at her back, grip tightening, knuckles white. She shut her eyes, breathing slow, deliberate—like she was trying to disappear inside herself. Trying to access some space within herself where the world wasn’t pressing in on her.

Yeah. He knew that look all too well now. She was trying not to cry.

Joel shifted his weight, glancing down at Maya, who was blissfully unaware, busy gumming the edge of a scarf she’d pulled off the shelf.

He cleared his throat. “Hey.”

Leela flinched—not much, just a little twitch of her shoulders—but it was enough to tell him that, for a second, she’d forgotten where she was. She blinked, pulling back from wherever she’d gone in her head, and looked at him.

Joel didn’t do the whole let's-address-this-nonsense, so he reached for the first thing that might pull her back. He grabbed an old record from the shelf and held it up. “Wanna put that fancy record player to use?”

Her expression softened instantly. She reached for the record, fingers tracing the edges like she was handling something precious. He eventually noticed the label—The Beach Boys, Wild Honey. What was with him, her and the sixties music?

“I have this one,” she mumbled.

An unsurprising turn of events. “’Course you do.” Joel sighed, sliding it back onto the shelf. "Hard to spoil a rich girl.”

She huffed out a laugh, tired, but at least it was real. She picked up a cloudy snow globe next, giving it a shake, eyes tracking the upending snow inside. “Don’t care for money anymore.”

Joel watched her, watched the way her fingers moved over the glass, trying to wipe away the dust. The way her shoulders had started to relax, just a little. He figured now was a good time for a distraction.

He tipped his chin at her. “You’re sittin’ on a gold mine, darlin'. You got salt. Basil or whatever.”

Her head tilted. "Seasoning makes me rich?"

"You ever eaten twenty years’ worth of QZ ration packs?" He scoffed, thumbing through the record covers. "Tryin’ to remember what real food tastes like while chewing expired crap they call 'dehydrated bolognese'?"

She actually laughed at that—not a breathy little huff, but a real laugh, short and amused. Then her eyes picked up that spark, a sharpness brightening her. “I make my own salt, actually. It’s a chemical reaction. It's fascinating, the sedimentation from caustic soda and—”

Joel lifted a hand to interrupt her, making a 'whoosh' motion over his head. “Alright, you lost me at ‘chemical.’ But if you got some to spare, I'd love to start saltin' my eggs in the morning.”

Her grin widened, but before she could respond, the door clattered open.

Maria swept in like a windstorm, hardly stepping inside, just enough to hold the door open. Clipboard in hand, she scanned the shelves, eyes flicking from one thing to the next, already onto whatever task she had next.

When she finally spotted Leela, she barely paused. “C’mon, kid, people are waiting for you. Let’s go.”

Leela stiffened, a shallow breath catching in her throat.

Joel caught the way her fingers tightened around the snow globe. The way her gaze flickered toward the door, then away just as fast—like she couldn’t look at it too long like it was something too bright, too overwhelming. She had just started breathing again.

He was about to say something—tell Maria to give her a damn minute, at least—but Leela nodded at her before he could get a word out. “I’ll be right there.”

But he saw the way her throat worked, how her hands wouldn’t quite let go of the shelf behind her. Then, she glanced back at him. A flicker. Hesitation. Like she was searching for something—a push, a reason to stall.

Joel had no goddamn clue what to do with that. Flash her a thumbs-up? Offer some dopey, generic shit like, “You got this”? None of it seemed right.

Maya—still happily oblivious, still gnawing on that damp, probably filthy scarf—grinned up at her mother with a gurgle, all gums and trouble. Her small hand finally reached out to her mama like her own little vote of confidence.

Leela’s expression softened, melting at that. She pressed a kiss to Maya's mitten, cupped her cheeks, and pressed another kiss to her head, lingering for a moment, breathing her in. “Don’t miss me too much, baby girl.”

And Joel—who was just holding the kid, who had nothing to do with that kiss—felt it all the way to his goddamn toes, until he curled them tight.

His throat closed when Leela straightened, and before he could react, she reached out, squeezing his shoulder. A quick thing, warm, shocking and grounding, there and gone.

“Take care of her, Joel,” she murmured.

She didn’t wait for a response. Didn’t hesitate this time. Just turned and walked toward the door, already steeling herself for whatever was waiting outside. Maria scarcely gave Joel a second glance as she hooked an arm around Leela’s shoulder, guiding her down the street, toward the dam.

Joel let out a slow breath through his nose, shifting Maya in his arms. Take care of her. Like that was even a question.

So, this was it. Joel hadn’t done something like this in a long time.

Running errands. Moving through town without it being about work, about survival, about making sure no one was about to freeze or starve. Just walking, going slow, letting himself ease into the rhythm of a day.

It was stupid how much he liked it. Maybe it was Maya in her room that was his arms, the warmth of her little body tucked up against him, the soft sighs and quiet sounds she made as she drifted in and out of sleep on his chest. Maybe it was the feeling of just being—going from place to place with no rush, no urgency, no reason to keep his hand near a weapon. It had been a while since he felt this liberated.

And yet, for all that, it was also the most uncomfortable he’d ever been. Because everywhere he went, people noticed him.

Or more specifically, they noticed her.

Maya was the newest baby in town, and in a place like Jackson—where everyone kept track of every fucking thing—that meant she was an instant celebrity.

It started at the main square. Joel had barely stepped inside before an older woman behind the counter lit up, clasping her hands together. “Oh, well, would you look at that.” She leaned forward, peering at Maya like she was a new puppy. “Aren’t you just the prettiest little thing?”

Joel braced. He was never good at shit like this—casual conversation, polite interactions. But he was prepared to nod, maybe mutter something noncommittal. Didn’t get the chance.

Before he could step away, the woman moved in.

“Can I see her?” She was already reaching like she might touch her, and instinct had Joel stepping back, moving Maya’s weight against his chest, his free hand flexing at his side.

The handsy woman noticed, laughing lightly. “Don’t worry, hon, I won’t take her from you.” But then she looked up, past Maya and her face dropped like a corpse wearing boots. “Oh. Joel.”

Yeah. Exactly. People never approached him. They let him pass, they let him do what he needed to do, and they didn’t ask for more than what was necessary. But now? Now he had her snug to his chest, and people suddenly thought they could get in his space, that they could smile at him like he was one of them.

“Right,” Joel muttered, clearing his throat. He took a step back, putting more space between them. “Gotta—uh. Got things to do.”

And he left before she could say anything else.

But it kept happening. Like having a baby made you instantly likeable. Erased everything that people deemed you unlikeable for.

A pair of young women on the street whispered to each other behind their hands. The Miller baby. Even some guy he didn’t know—a carpenter or a repairman or something—told over his shoulder to his friend while passing him, “Is that the little Miller baby?”

He didn’t answer. It wasn’t. But he hated how the words stuck to his skin, how they lingered. Feeding him false truths.

Maya, for her part, handled the attention in the same way she handled everything. She stared, wide-eyed, for a few seconds before burying her face in his chest, hiding against him.

Which—fair. Joel had the same damn instinct.

After a while, he just stopped slowing down, stopped making eye contact, and stopped acknowledging the people trying to grab his attention. By the time he hit the shop that traded in home goods, his patience was running thin.

He bartered for his coffee first. Priorities. He was low on supply, and he didn’t feel right starting a morning without it. Then, a stop at the shelf where he found some candles. The kind that a hifalutin name, like lavender or some other flower he couldn’t name. He wasn’t proud of what he’d had to trade to get them, but if they helped Leela sleep, he figured it was worth it.

Then, while shifting the baby bag on his shoulder, he saw it—some worn-down, wooden playthings on one of the shelves, a sad little collection of toys no one had much use for.

The kid had nothing. Leela didn’t seem to know enough to engage her in play. Honestly, Maya’s biggest laughs came from him, from just seeing him come in through the door and the way he bounced her when no one was looking. She didn’t have a stuffed animal to chew on, a rattle to shake, nothing. That sat wrong with him.

He reached out, fingers brushing over a carved horse with rounded edges. But before he could test it in his palms, Maya twisted in his arms, a tiny frown forming on her face.

The warning signs.

Joel sighed. “Ah, shit. Really, sweetheart?”

The fussing started slow—grunts, little unhappy noises, fidgeting with her mittens. It was hunger, he knew that much, and he hadn’t exactly planned on stopping somewhere good for it.

He glanced around, eyes landing on the worst place he could think of to feed a baby. He looked up to the sky instead, hoping for some cosmic assistance. Test him, test him, and test him again.

The fucking bar.

Well, then. It should be empty at this time of day. He'll take what is given.

Joel stepped in, scanning the dimly lit space for judgmental stares, the door swinging shut behind him. No one. It smelled like old wood and stale beer, the kind of place that felt settled into itself, like it had been standing for a hundred years and would stand for a hundred more. Even Tommy was behind the counter, rummaging through shelves, looking for something that clearly wasn’t there.

Joel exhaled sharply and shook his head. “Caught you at the right time.”

Tommy barely glanced up. “Look who it is. Papa Joel.” Then he did look, properly this time, and his smirk widened. “And look at you. Hell, you wearin’ cologne?”

Joel grunted, shifting Maya higher in his arms. “Shut up.”

“Not my fault you look—” Tommy gestured vaguely at all of him, “—like you popped outta Sears catalogue.”

Joel scowled. The swanky clothes. Right. But leave it to Tommy to make a damn thing of it.

Instead of answering, he settled onto a stool, already halfway to getting Maya’s bottle ready. She'd gone quiet, watching him move, which was never a good sign. Not for long, anyway.

Joel gently adjusted her in the crook of his arm, tucking the bottle against her lips, and that was it. The instant it was him feeding her, the second she got comfortable, her hands started roaming. She did this thing every single time. Feeling. Grabbing. Claiming.

And today, like always, they landed on the scar on his wrist. That big, pale line that ran jagged up his wrist into his forearm, from a blade that had nearly done more than nick him. A raider that he'd shivved in less than two seconds once the bleeding started.

In cruel irony, Maya was obsessed with it. She smoothed her tiny mitten over it, again and again, like she was trying to figure it out, her hand bare speck against the scar. Then she started digging her little hand into it, gripping it like she could peel it off him like it was something separate from his skin.

If Joel took his arm away when she got her claws in, her hands floated after it, waiting. A small whine, and she even gave up on the bottle.

“What?” he asked her, a single brow arched. “Aren't you hungry?”

She moved her head when he tried to push the sipper against her lips. Little smartass. A small, give-it-back-coo, brows furrowed, fists still waiting within her mittens. He missed seeing those little fingers already.

“Yeah, yeah. I ain’t goin’ anywhere, baby girl,” he sighed, letting her have his hand again. His voice was barely above a rasp, more to himself than anything. Not like she could understand, anyway. But talking to her—talking at her—had become something natural. Like breathing.

Immediately, she latched onto it again, tiny fingers curling around the scar like it belonged to her. Just let it happen. Couldn’t do a damn thing with her around. She had all his attention.

The silence between them stretched, like something Joel could settle into. Maya kept her hold on him, even as she finished eating, even as her round eyelids drooped with sleep.

His free hand, the one that had been absently nursing the cold whiskey glass, came up to trace down her nose. That tiny little twitching nose. She scrunched it at the sensation, gave the smallest little sigh—then she was out. Just like that.

Ahead, Tommy took a sip of his drink, still watching. Not saying anything. Not yet.

Then, after a beat, he sighed. “So, you’re really gonna do this?”

Joel blinked, caught mid-motion, his fingers coming up against the cool glass of his drink. He knew what Tommy's 'this' implied, he didn't even have to point it out. Joel hadn’t thought about it, not in words. Not in the way Tommy was asking. But the question hung there between them, waiting to be acknowledged.

His first instinct was to scoff. Shake his head. Deflect. Like he always did.

But instead, he just sat there.

Maya was still curled against him, warm and impossibly small. Her fingers had loosened in sleep, no longer gripping his wrist so fiercely, but every now and then, she’d twitch, like she was reaching for him even in dreams. Like she knew exactly where she belonged, in the arms that were always ready to catch her.

Joel swallowed, jaw working, eyes fixed on the grain of the counter. He could feel Tommy watching him, waiting.

Then came the shrug. That half-assed, useless shrug. A non-answer, because he wasn’t ready to say it out loud.

Tommy snorted, shaking his head. “Bullshit.”

“Ain’t that simple. You know how it is with her mom.” The words came out rougher than Joel intended like he was trying to shove them between himself and whatever his shitty brother was about to say next.

Tommy, of course, wasn’t buying it. He leaned against the bar, arms folded, giving Joel that look—the one that said he was already ten steps ahead, already seeing straight through the seven layers of crap. Joel hated that damn look.

“It’s already simple,” Tommy said, voice even. “You just don’t wanna admit it.”

Joel scowled, shifting Maya higher in his arms, adjusting her like it was nothing. Like she wasn’t the thing anchoring him in place.

“The hell does that mean?”

Tommy huffed a laugh, shaking his head. Then he just gestured—a lazy flick of his fingers toward Maya, toward the way she was curled into Joel’s chest, tiny and warm and completely at home.

It made Joel pause. The way Tommy was looking at him. The way he didn’t say what he meant, just let the silence speak for itself.

Joel swallowed, jaw tightening.

“It means you already decided,” Tommy finally said. “You’re just waitin’ on someone else to say it first, you pussy.”

Joel’s fingers curled tighter around his drink. A muscle jumped in his jaw. Because Tommy wasn’t wrong. He fucking hated that Tommy wasn’t wrong.

This was what he did. This was how it always went. With Ellie. With Sarah. He didn’t decide—he just let it happen. Let them carve out their space in his life, let them claim him before he ever had the guts to admit it. Because once you said it—really said it—that was it. No taking it back. No pretending you could walk away.

And Maya… she was already there. Already in. And fuck. Tommy must’ve caught the shift in his expression, because his posture eased, his voice dropping into something quieter, something real.

“Y’know,” he said, softer this time. “I’ve missed seein’ you like this.”

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose. “Like what?”

Tommy tilted his head, studying him. “Like you still give a damn.”

Joel scoffed. “That’s real cute, Tommy.”

“I’m serious.”

And Joel knew he was. Could hear it in the way Tommy’s voice had lost its usual sharpness, in the way he wasn’t teasing anymore.

Tommy wasn’t just looking at him now—he was seeing him.

The way Joel had melted into this. How he hadn’t put her down, hadn’t even tried. How his hand, scarred and mangled, still rested against the small of Maya’s back, gently rubbing circles as if he needed to make sure she was still there.

Joel looked away. Something crawled up his spine, sharp and unnameable. He didn’t like being seen. Not like this. Not even by Tommy. So he went for the easiest thing—the simplest way to cut the tension.

A half-hearted mutter. A low, unconvincing, “Yeah, well.”

Tommy’s smirk returned, slow and knowing. “Poetic,” he drawled.

Joel shook his head, finally taking a drink. “You talk too damn much.”

Tommy chuckled, tapping his fingers against his glass. “Yeah, well,” he mimicked before his voice softened again. “You don’t gotta say it, Joel.” He gestured toward Maya, still curled against his chest, safe, home. “You’re already doin’ it. Even if you got fuckin’ old.”

“Guess I had to, didn’t I?” he muttered, adjusting Maya against his chest, making sure her head rested easy against his chest.

Tommy didn’t argue. Didn’t need to. They both knew the truth of it.

Joel had aged in ways Tommy never would, in ways no one who hadn’t lived what he lived could understand. His life had been gunpowder, dirt and blood. But still—there was something about this, about sitting here, not rushing anywhere, not killing anything, not surviving, just existing.

Something about her. She had her little hands on his shirt, curled tight in sleep, and he knew without a doubt that when she woke up, she'd reach for him again.

Yeah, this was what getting old was.

It wasn’t so abnormal anymore, Joel thought, being here like this. A weekend evening, in nice clothes, at a restaurant, beer in hand, sitting around a table with family. Nothing left to rock the boat.

For a long time, this kind of thing had felt impossible. Something for other people. Other lives. Even in Jackson, even after all these years, he still sometimes caught himself expecting the old rhythm—always waiting for something to go wrong.

But here he was. Sitting in a booth at the barbecue joint, letting the warmth of the moment settle in. Maria was talking a mile a minute, Tommy was stretched out beside her, looking half in disbelief, and across from him—Leela cradling Maya, quiet as ever.

Joel took a slow sip of his beer, tearing his eyes off her, half-listening as Maria went off, excitement lighting up her face.

“—seriously, I’ve never seen anything like it,” she was saying, gesturing so wildly she nearly knocked over Tommy’s drink. “Fixed the whole irrigation backup in minutes, Joel! Got the system running smoother than it ever has, and on top of that—this little Einstein somehow managed to work out a whole fucking ration adjustment in the same damn hour.”

Leela’s face went warm. She waved a hand, dismissing it. “It wasn’t that complicated. The whole system just needed a pressure bypass to reduce cavitation in the main feed lines. And the rationing—honestly, it was just a matter of optimizing caloric allotments based on intake efficiency per household.”

A stunned hush.

Tommy blinked. Joel just stared in amazement. Maria narrowed her eyes like she was trying to do the math in her head.

“Right,” Tommy finally muttered, dragging his drink closer to safety. “I totally knew what all that meant.”

Joel huffed a laugh, shaking his head. And a little proud of her. “Christ.”

Leela frowned, looking between them. “It's all just calibration.”

Maria snorted, nudging Tommy. “I think that just proved her point.”

She was surpassing expectations with Maria fuckin' Miller. That had got to count for something. It was rare, too, to watch her this spirited, this excited. Even rarer that Tommy wasn’t the loudest one at the table.

"Well," Tommy said, smirking as he raised his glass. "Guess it's good to have a genius in your corner sometimes."

Joel smirked too, but his gaze flickered sideways again, back to Leela. He couldn't help himself to another look, and another, and another. Total headcase conduct.

But she wasn’t looking at any of them. She sat beside him, holding Maya close, not engaging much, just keeping her eyes down, drifting between the door and Maya in her bouncing lap. Every now and then, she’d offer a thin, polite smile—one of those distant ones, not real, not reaching her eyes. Present, but not fully there.

Joel noticed it all. The way she sat just a little too stiff, the way her fingers fidgeted lightly against Maya’s back. The way her shoulders didn’t fully relax, even though she was surrounded by people she trusted. She was clearly still agitated with something. Maybe the attention? The restaurant? The smell of the food? Perhaps Maya? Or was it himself?

Joel sipped his beer and let his eyes linger on her for a second longer, about to change the subject, before Tommy—that big-mouthed bastard—broke the moment.

“Leela’s birthday’s comin’ up in a few days, right?” he said, nodding toward Joel like he expected him to confirm. “You two got plans?”

Joel damn near choked. He shot Tommy a glare so sharp it could’ve gutted a man. Wanted to kick him square in the balls. What was this little shit implying? And her birthday? He didn’t even know. Then again, he wasn't big on celebrations anyway.

Leela, to his relief, didn’t seem to care much. She just shook her head. “No plans.”

Maria, of course, had other ideas. Plans. To put that unused, exquisite dining room in her home to good use.

“Dinner, then,” she announced, already scheming, her face bright with it. “Your place. You don't have to lift a finger, the menu’s on me.”

Leela hesitated. “Um...”

Joel was ready to witness Maria take a licking for the first time ever. He could see the wheels turning in Leela's head, the way her fingers curled into Maya’s blanket. She looked down at the baby, who was happily slapping her little hands against the table, amusing herself, laughing that hiccuping laugh, at the sound.

Joel couldn’t help but smile. He reached out, brushing his knuckles over Maya’s chin, and she let out a delighted squeal, and tried to catch his hand before he returned it to his glass.

Leela exhaled, barely a smile on her lips, blindsiding him with: "I think that'd be nice. I could make something, too. With seasoning." And she flashed a knowing grin at Joel.

He bit his smile into the rim of his beer glass, meeting her eye. "Amen."

“Sweet,” Tommy grinned. “I’ll let Ellie know.”

When the food arrived in a leering waitress's arms, Joel didn’t touch his plate right away. He was too busy looking at Tommy’s. A full rack of ribs, juicy, glistening with sauce, looking like the best damn thing on the table. Regret burned in his gut.

Tommy, the smug shithead, was already smirking, rolling back his sleeves. “Something wrong, big brother?”

Joel grunted, reaching for his beer instead of dignifying that with an answer. His brother had no one to impress, Maria was well-versed in Tommy-isms. Joel had played it safe. Ribs were messy. Hands-on. Fucking delicious. If he were alone, or if it was just Tommy, he’d be going to town on them.

But with Maya switching from his lap to Leela's lap half the time? With Leela, this smart, stunning girl, sitting beside him, barely eating, her shoulder brushing his every now and then? He’d gone for the safe, decent option. A nice slab of brisket. Neater. Quieter. Civil. Less of a goddamn spectacle.

Across from him, Maria was already chatting about something—town expansion, hydroponics for the greenhouse, that kind of thing. Leela was listening, but not really. Not engaging entirely. Her gaze stayed down, distracted.

And then there was Maya. For all her adorableness, she was being an absolute menace. Squirming. Reaching. Grabbing. Her big eyes were all stubborn, yet curious. Joel felt her shifting in Leela’s lap, wiggling against her arm, determined to smack her little hands onto her mother's plate.

“Maya, please,” Leela whispered, exasperated, nudging her hands away. Even positioning her farther on her lap.

Of course, it didn’t work. Maya let out a loud, insistent whine—real dramatic-like. Another scream of objection, fists squeezed like she was throwing a fit, and smacking for the plate again.

Maria chuckled. “Kid’s got some lungs on her.”

Leela huffed a small, tired laugh, but Joel could see her struggle even if it was hilarious. Trying to keep handsy Maya at bay while attempting to cut her steak one-handed. She wasn’t doing a great job of it. Fork in one hand, knife awkwardly angled in the other, barely making progress.

Joel didn’t think about it. Didn’t need to.

He just reached over and swapped their plates. Simple. Quiet. Didn’t make a thing of it. Just slid his brisket—already cut—toward her, nudging it a little farther from Maya’s reach.

Leela stilled. And glanced up at him, astonished.

Joel kept his eyes on his own plate, reaching for his knife. Shrugged, like it was nothing. “Go on,” he urged. “The best thing you'll put in your mouth.”

Tommy cleared his throat, catching onto the innuendo. Joel imagined sticking his knife into his eye.

Leela hesitated. Then, after a beat, he heard the soft clink of her fork against the plate as she speared a piece. A grateful smile came alive on her face while she chewed, a genuine one. He'd learned to tell the difference now.

“Thank you, Joel,” she nodded.

Joel nodded back, a tight smile stretching on his lips. Took a bite from his plate. There was nothing else to be said. The message was clear: I've got you.

Oh, Joel didn’t miss the looks either. Maria’s subtle smirk behind her glass. Tommy’s full-blown, shit-eating grin. The two of them watched like they were studying a goddamn exhibit every time Joel so much as glanced at Leela or reached out for Maya.

Fuck them. He ignored it all, chewing through another bite of steak, keeping his focus where it needed to be. Maya was calm now. Full belly, busy little hands—playing with his own hand now, like it was her favourite toy in the world. Leela, finally eating without interruption, though still too quiet.

Joel didn’t say a damn word about any of it. Even when Maria started up again.

“What I'm saying is, that the town’s growing,” she said, wiping her mouth. “More people settling in every month. It’s getting to the point where we’re running low on homes.”

That got Joel’s attention. His chewing slowed, a sliver of suspicion creeping in. Tommy wasn’t looking at him. That was the first red flag that he'd learned from one of the more recent dinners in the Miller household.

“Couple of new families coming in next week,” Maria continued. “One’s got three kids. You believe that? Haven’t had that many young ones in Jackson in a long time.”

Joel grunted. More people. More mouths to feed. Meant the town was growing, sure—but also meant more risk. Running this place with a tight ship was already starting to show. And Maria wasn’t done.

“Thing is, if we keep expanding at this rate, we’ll have to start repurposing old homes.”

There it was. Joel was halfway through his beer when he heard more of this.

“You know, Joel,” Tommy started his tone too goddamn casual to be anything but questionable. “If push comes to shove, we could always put your place up for new tenants.”

Joel’s grip tightened on his glass. He didn’t blink. Didn’t look at Tommy right away. Just kept chewing slow, steady, like he hadn’t heard a thing.

Because he knew what this was. He knew Tommy and that arrogant little edge in his voice, the way Maria was staying too quiet, swirling her drink like she wasn’t waiting for impact.

It was a set-up. Fishing. Looking for a reaction. Confirming some inside hunches. And Maria took the shot before he could load his own.

“We’d put you up at ours, sure enough,” she said, breezy, easy.

“No kidding. You're family, can't just chuck you on the street as much as I want to,” Tommy added, mockingly, grinning like a jackass.

Joel set his drink down with a little too much pressure, the sound a noisy thud. Finally, finally, he levelled a look at Tommy. He didn't need to say a damn thing. Because whatever was on his face? It was enough.

Tommy coughed, glancing away as if he felt the heat of it. He knew what would follow if he spoke another word. Maria, to her credit, held his stare, only raising an eyebrow.

Joel’s jaw flexed, real slow. The urge to tell them both to go straight to hell was right there, burning at the back of his throat. And he would have. Would’ve shut the whole damn thing down, hard. But before he could, Leela beat him to it with—

“I have spare rooms in my place,” she said, casually. Like she was discussing the weather. “If that happens, Joel could take one. Stay as long as he wants.” She used Maya's arm to motion a wave. “Maya would love that, too.”

More silence. She was just full of surprises today, wasn't she?

Tommy, who had been bracing for impact, looked like he’d tripped over his own damn feet. Maria, mid-drink, paused. Chewed on her cheeks. Like she was recalibrating the entire situation.

And Joel? He didn't even know what to do with that. For a second, all he could do was stare at Leela, completely gobsmacked. What she'd suggested was to take it to the next level, in the most casual way. Yeah, just stay with me and my kid, forever, I guess. Doesn't matter.

Leela didn’t look up. Didn’t seem to notice what she’d said. She just kept wiping at Maya's mouth and hands who'd started to entertain herself by blowing raspberries, and bouncing her gently like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Joel exhaled through his nose. A slow, heavy thing. “It's all a big 'if',” he muttered, edged with finality.

Maria recovered first. Pulled a face that said she was perfectly fine with it. “Yep.”

Tommy, still catching up, pressed his lips together. “Just wanted to make sure of something,” he muttered. “Pretty sure now.”

Joel didn’t ask what. Just picked up his beer again, and took a slow, measured sip. His glare at Tommy, though? Firmly in place.

They left the restaurant together, in cackles of laughter that was at the expense of Joel's face, making their way up the same street where their homes resided, boots crunching against the frozen dirt road. The air was sharp, biting, but Joel barely felt it.

Maya had run herself ragged. After all her theatrics inside—her constant wriggling, the battle for the damn steak, the way she’d made herself known to the entire damn restaurant—she’d finally given in.

“You feelin' cold, baby?” he murmured.

She was in his arms now, bundled up and warm, her bunny-ear beanie snug over her head. Her tiny nose was red from the cold, her cheek pressed against the fabric of his jacket, picking at a loose lint on his sweater. He tucked closer, safer, pressing a warming kiss into her sleepy head.

Joel caught up with Maria before she could reach Tommy and Leela ahead. His breath came out in slow, even puffs, but inside, he felt a little less steady. Hadn’t planned on asking. Hadn’t even realized it was sitting there, coiled tight in his chest, until the words were already forming.

"Hey," he said lowly, his voice carrying that weighted kind of hesitation. "Can we talk?"

Maria arched a brow before smirking. "If you’re about to chew me out, it was Tommy’s idea. You know we haven’t had new people settle in for months."

Joel barely registered it. Just shook his head. Not about that.

His gaze flicked toward Leela’s back—small, quiet steps beside Tommy’s like she wasn’t all the way there. His jaw tightened before he spoke. Carefully.

"At the dam today." He paused, feeling the words thick on his tongue. "Did she seem… alright to you? Seem a little off?"

That smirk faded. Maria exhaled, her face shifting into something more careful. "Wouldn’t stay in the room with all the workers," she admitted. "Spooked her out. After that, I just let her stick by my side in the office."

Joel frowned.

"Must’ve been a trigger," Maria added, quieter now.

He only nodded. He didn't need to say what they both already knew.

He watched Leela a little longer, the way her hands stayed tucked inside her coat sleeves, the way she wasn’t engaging much with Tommy’s easy conversation. There was something… too still about her.

"She’s been quiet all night," he muttered, mostly to himself.

Maria nudged him lightly. "She’ll be fine, Joel. Baby steps."

Joel pressed his lips together. He wasn't a believer in the process of baby steps. Either you healed or you rotted in the filth of guilt or devastation for the rest of your life.

Maria gave him a sideways glance, one of those knowing looks. "You look good together."

Joel let out a breath. Not quite a scoff. Not quite anything. "Thought lawyers didn’t bullshit," he muttered.

Maria shrugged easily. "I don't. Sure, you’re," she cleared her throat, shooting him a look. "Let’s say ‘well into your prime’—and she’s… not. But I can tell she trusts you absolutely."

Joel said nothing. Only bit down the small grin that broke through his lips, staring at his boots. Coming from Maria, point-blank like that, it meant a lot.

Up ahead, Tommy was acting like he hadn’t just pulled that shit back in the restaurant, talking easy, hands in his pockets, like he was the picture of innocence.

Joel narrowed his eyes. Yeah, alright. That jagoff needed to be put in his place.

He picked up his pace, stepping just ahead of Tommy, and without breaking stride, swept his leg out.

Tommy didn’t even get a chance to balance before he was airborne—arms flailing, momentum carrying him forward—a sad, "What the fuck!"—then crashing face-first into the snow with a solid thud.

Maria burst out laughing. Full-on, bent-over, hands-on-her-knees laughing. Leela, though—she gasped, her eyes going wide, clearly more horrified than she needed to be.

Joel just kept walking, adjusting Maya, who let out a startled little giggle like she understood the exact kind of justice that had just been served.

"Fuckin' deserved it," he grumbled.

Maya was bawling at the big white house’s door, tiny fists clutching his shirt like letting go might break her little heart. And maybe it would—maybe that’s why Joel hesitated, his hands hovering at her back, torn between unwinding her grip and holding her tighter. Damn it, he didn’t want to go, either.

If he peeled her off him and stepped away, she’d do the sweetest thing that always got him—cover her eyes with her hands like she’d seen her mother do, weeping like his leaving was the greatest tragedy of her small world.

“He’ll come back tomorrow, Maya,” Leela tried, rubbing absently at her belly. “He has to sleep, too.”

Maya wasn’t convinced. She wriggled in her mother’s hold, stretching her arms out toward Joel, demanding, no—pleading—to be held. Then she wailed, loud and unrestrained, the kind of cry that could bring a whole street to a standstill.

Joel exhaled, a smile creeping onto his face despite himself. God, this girl was breaking his heart.

Leela shifted Maya against her chest and patted her back. “Do you want to stay a while?” Her voice was softer now. “Until she falls asleep?”

Joel didn’t even pretend to hesitate. His arms were already reaching for Maya, lifting her effortlessly out of Leela’s hold. The moment she settled against his chest, her tiny hands fisting into his shirt, her cries turned to hiccups, then sniffles.

“Gonna be a handful when she gets older,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her damp cheek.

Leela rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her palm, stifling a yawn. “Gosh, please don’t remind me.” She nodded toward the stairs. “I’m gonna get changed. Help yourself to anything.”

Joel watched her retreat up the steps, back hunched with exhaustion. At the landing, she disappeared into the hallway, and he found himself standing there a moment longer than necessary, listening to the creak of the floorboards as she moved through the house. He liked that about her—the way she kept reminding him to make himself at home like she knew he hadn’t quite figured out how to.

Maya was still sniffling, the last remnants of her earlier tears damp against Joel’s shirt. She stirred against him, adjusting in his arms like she was making herself right at home. Safe. Where she belonged.

Joel smoothed his palm over her back and felt the way she breaths puffed against his collar, her little chest rising and falling in a slower rhythm now. She was alright. He did that.

"You missed me already?" he murmured, rubbing a thumb under her damp eye.

She didn’t answer, just breathed out a soft, shuddering coo.

Yeah. That was about what he thought.

He bounced her gently as he moved through the living room, shifting his weight as he glanced around, looking for something to keep her mind off whatever had gotten her so worked up in the first place. His eyes caught on something up on the shelf, half-forgotten.

That record player he'd been gawking at for weeks. Not just any old thing, either. Glass case. Dark mahogany. Expensive. Fancy, like the rest of Leela’s place.

There was already a record inside. Percy Sledge. Gold, fucking gold. The glossy cover sat neatly on the side like someone had meant to come back to it and never did.

Joel exhaled, dusting off the lid before flipping it open. “Haven’t heard this in a long time,” he muttered, mostly to himself. Then, glancing down at Maya, "You wanna hear some music, baby girl?"

Maya blinked up at him, her earlier tears forgotten, and let out that breathless little panting laugh she did when she was excited. Her small hands clapped together in that uncoordinated, barbed motion that made her look like she was still figuring out how her own fingers worked.

Joel grinned. “Yeah, me too.”

He brushed away the dust, set the needle down, and let the music cut through the quiet.

The room filled with the low, honeyed croon of Percy Sledge, velvet-smooth, drifting through the air like something out of a different time.

Joel felt her still in his arms, eyes going wide as she stared at the record player, completely awestruck. Like she was trying to make sense of where the sound was coming from.

He poked a finger into her squishy thigh. “Never heard real music before? You like it?”

Maya was so curious, watching the record spin, producing music, head tilting in that goddamned adorable way of hers, like she was putting all her baby brainpower into figuring it out.

Joel’s chest ached. It was a deep, familiar thing, the kind of ache that came from having too much and knowing it was, perhaps now, all his to keep.

He shifted Maya in his arms, kissing the top of her bunny-eared beanie. She smelled like warm blankets, like home, even though he’d never had a home quite like this before.

"You wanna dance with me, darlin’?"

She gasped, her whole body jerking in excitement, arms flailing like she couldn’t believe her luck. Then came that breathless, hitching laugh—the one that made her whole face crinkle, her tiny chest heaving like she could barely keep up with herself.

He’d never heard her laugh like this before. Was that the first?

So he lifted her high into the air, listening to the way she squealed, legs kicking like she was soaring. That same laugh again—bright, bubbling over, pure sunshine—rang through the room as he pulled her back into his chest, then did it again. Twice. Thrice. Oh, his back was going to pay the piper, but for that laugh, it was fucking worth it.

She was weightless, and for a moment, so was he. The world didn’t feel so heavy when he had her in his arms like this.

His eyes caught on something in the doorway.

Leela. She was watching.

She had changed into that same white nightdress, the one with the pearl buttons he liked more than he should. Loose fabric brushing just above her ankles, a sleeve slipping off her shoulders. She was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, fingers touching her lips like she was trying to trap the smile already there.

Joel didn’t stop moving, just slowed a little, swaying Maya in his arms, pretending like his chest didn’t feel too goddamn tight at the look on Leela’s face. If he stopped, the moment might end, and he wasn’t ready for that.

Leela wasn’t looking at him, not exactly. Her eyes were on Maya, wondering, at the way she was still laughing, still catching her breath, little fingers clinging to the fabric of Joel’s shirt like her whole world was nothing but him and the feeling of flying.

He'd never had anything like this. Something whole, real, his. Could this moment get any more perfect? And then he had the thought—

He wanted to dance with Leela.

It settled deep in his chest, curling between the cracks. Maybe he’d wanted that for a while now. Maybe that was why his hands always hoped to reach for her when it was without Maya, why his pulse kicked up when she got too close, why he always noticed when she was around—soft, careful, like someone who didn’t want to take up too much space.

He huffed, dipping his head down to whisper against Maya’s temple, his voice all low and warm—"Gotta give your mama a turn, huh?"

He lowered Maya onto the couch, kissing her nose, making sure she was snug, and safe between the sunken cushions. She was already grabbing for her baby blanket, nibbling on the edge of it, still watching him with that shining little grin. That was enough confidence to power him up.

Joel knew better than to ask Leela. Knew better than to want. She’d probably turn him down. Politely. And somehow, that would hurt worse. Brushing him off like a stranger.

But he asked anyway.

He turned around and didn’t say a word—just held out his hands, just a little. Not a grand gesture, nothing obvious, just enough. Just enough that she’d see it, that she’d know. He wants her close.

Leela’s gaze flickered, something changing. Her lips parted, just barely, and for a moment—a long, slow, aching moment—he thought she might step forward, might meet him where he stood. A silly pipedream.

Joel was too goddamn old for his heart to be pounding like this. Like some stupid kid, all restless hands and reckless hope, hoping the girl he liked would share that feeling with him. It had been a long time since someone made him feel like this. Hell, he wasn’t sure he ever had—not like this. Not with something this soft, this easy, this whole.

He blamed that when she looked away, the moment unravelling.

Blamed the gap, the years that stretched between them, the life he’d already lived, the losses already burned into his bones. The grey in his hair, the angry brow, the lines on his face. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not for him. Not anymore. But then—why did he still want? Why, after all these years, after everything, did he still feel this?

The way his chest clenched when she hesitated. The way his palms itched, waiting, wanting. The way he caught himself hoping—hoping—like some love-struck fool that she might actually step forward.

He exhaled slowly, telling himself it was fine. Telling himself he was being ridiculous. She didn’t owe him anything. He should’ve known better, should’ve kept his hands where they belonged... anyways, what else could he offer her?

And then she did. She moved a little. Leaned off the doorway. A few slow, quiet steps forward. Hands knotted behind her back, shoulders tense, reluctant to give in.

His breath caught in his throat.

She wasn’t looking at him—not at first. Her eyes dipped downward to the boots on his feet, flickering uncertainly, almost like she was working up the nerve to do something.

And then she glimpsed his hands. The callouses. The mangled skin. The years of work, of war, of violence. Of a life that had been anything but easy. The way his fingers curled just slightly like he wasn’t sure if he should be offering them in the first place.

For a moment, she hesitated. And he thought, yeah, that’s about right.

And then—slowly, so slowly—she slipped her hands into his. Her fingers were slender against his, swallowed within his own, cool and soft where his were rough, ruined. It had been so long since anyone had reached for him first.

He didn’t move right away. Just felt it. The way she fit there, the shape of her hands in his, like it wasn’t a mistake. Like she wasn’t regretting it.

All those lifetimes, chipping away parts of him, making space for her hands to be there. And fuck, if that didn’t scare him more than anything.

The scratchy record spun on, Percy Sledge’s voice melting into the room, velvet-smooth. What am I living for, he sang on, if not for you?

Joel swallowed thickly.

Slowly, he guided her hand to his bicep, barely pressing down. She was tense, wound tight like she’d bolt if he moved too fast. So he didn’t.

"You good?" he checked in.

She nodded, glancing up, baring a gentle smile.

His own hand skimmed her hip—ginger, careful—before settling there. He let her other hand hang from his grasp, mid-air, not forcing it, not demanding more than she was willing to give. Leela was stiff against him, like this was too much for her. Like it had been too long for her, too. Like she was afraid of him. Of this. My god, it burned.

So he eased. Dipped his head, rested his nose against her hairline, and just swayed. Joel couldn't cut a rug or shake his hips to save his damn life, but he could feel. And shit, he felt so good.

She was right there. Right where he wanted her, but not as close as he wanted, although he completely dwarfed her. He could feel the tension in her frame, that deep-rooted hesitance like she wasn’t sure she was allowed this.

Joel knew that feeling all too well. So he let her lead without leading. Let her find the pace. Even if it was fucking killing him.

Even though his body ached to pull her closer. Even though his fingers twitched where they rested against her hip, wanting to dig in, to hold, to keep. He wanted her warmth pressed tight to him, her weight resting against his chest. Wanted to feel her relax, not just in body but in heart.

He’d spent years running on instinct, on gut, making quick decisions with deadly precision. But he’d never been this meticulous about anything before.

And then—he felt it. The shift. It wasn’t big, not something he would've noticed a while ago. Now he did. The way her breath came just a little easier. The way her grip steadied, not quite clinging but not pulling away either. She was letting herself be here.

And for the first time in some time—Joel wanted to feel, too.

So he let himself move with her. Not well, not smooth, not anything he’d want anyone else to see. But with her.

She laughed like he'd cracked something open in her, when he pulled her in, twirling her under his arm, snaring her against his chest before she could stumble. She laughed again when he spun her out, her head tipping back, black hair spilling like a dark halo.

"Never been spun around, my ass," he muttered against her hair as he spun her back into him, arms curling around her waist, anchoring her to him. "You're a natural."

Leela laughed, breathless, cheeks flushed. "Practice. Mom and I used to spin around for hours when it got lonely."

Joel stilled for just a second. He could picture it then—little Leela, small hands clutching at her mother’s as she twirled, all giggles and untamed joy. A warm, glowing memory, but edged with something else. The kind of happiness you cling to when there’s nothing else.

He hummed low in his throat, muffling a smile. Leela’s fingers curled against his back.

"Joel?"

"Mhm?"

She hesitated, just a beat. "I think you look really handsome today."

He stopped moving altogether. A strange, sharp thing twisted behind his ribs—surprise, confusion, something too damn soft to name. Handsome. Not tired, not rude, not old. Joel was handsome to her. The prickling memory from that morning, her mistaking him for her father went up in smoke.

For a second, he considered brushing it off, making some dry remark, giving himself an out. He wasn’t careful about much. Wasn’t the kind of man who tiptoed around what he wanted. Life had burned that out of him long ago. But right now? Right now, he was careful.

So, Joel did what he could; he held her tighter. Not much. Just enough. Just enough that she’d know he’d heard her.

And when he finally spoke, it was quiet, low, a little rough around the edges. "Thank you, darlin'."

Leela smiled up at him. And Joel—God help him. He let himself smile back.

As Percy crooned about his love growing stronger and his lover becoming a habit, they actually danced. However slow it was, there was a wildness to the way she moved, arms outstretched, the hem of her nightdress catching air, cheeks catching the low lamplight. The sharp pivot of her foot against the floorboards, the way her body dipped and twisted, loose and natural. She looked so young, so different from the woman he’d met all those weeks ago, that quiet, anxious thing who always kept herself tucked away.

This was the Leela he was falling for.

And he was so fucked. But for the first time in a long time—he was glad he was.

Joel barely had time to react before she was in his arms, knocking the wind out of his chest. Not swaying anymore, not laughing—just holding.

Her arms locked tight around his waist, cheek pressed firm against his chest like she was bracing herself. Like something in her had finally tipped over, finally let go, and she needed something to catch her.

And Joel—goddamn it, Joel wasn’t sure what to do. How to process this. She didn’t do things like this. Not the Leela he’d come to know. She was careful, always. Kept her distance. Kept everything measured. Even when she let people in, it was guarded. Always one foot out the door, always ready to pull away.

But now?

Now, she was holding on. Holding onto him.

Joel hesitated, feeling all of her against all of him, the heat, the muscle, the softness, the realness.

Then, slow and steady, he let himself move. One arm curled around her waist, the other settled at the back of her head. His fingers slid into her hair, pressing her close—not just to comfort her, but to reassure himself. She was here. He was here. They were here.

She wasn’t trembling, but she was tense. Her grip on him was firm, almost desperate. Holding onto something bigger than just this moment, nails digging into his sweater, something that must’ve been clawing at her for God knows how long.

"I needed this a lot," she muttered, voice barely above a whisper, muffled against his chest.

Joel swallowed. Shifted just enough to angle his chin over the crown of her head. "Anytime."

That was all he could say. Because what else was there?

He didn’t know how to tell her that she could stay like this for as long as she wanted. All night, all day, That whatever had been weighing her down before—whatever had kept her small, kept her afraid—it wasn’t going to touch her here. Not while he was holding her.

Although he wished the song could last forever, reality came a-knocking, and they answered. There was nothing awkward left to pick up, just a dreaming baby girl on the couch cushions.

After placing Maya in her crib and squeezing three deep goodnight kisses into her head, Joel left to cross the street. He turned around to see Leela by the big oak door, watching him go, a meaningful smile alive on her face. She waved him goodnight.

The heat in his cabin hit him first as he entered, sighing. Thick and suffocating. The fire in the hearth had burned too hot again, filling the place with a sticky kind of warmth that made his skin prickle.

Joel shrugged off that expensive shearling jacket, tossed it somewhere, and rubbed a hand down his face. It was too damn quiet. No soft breaths ghosted across his skin. No little palms clung to the fabric of his shirt.

Just the crackle of fire. Empty arms. The twisted sheets on his bed. And himself.

Joel sat down at the edge of the mattress, forearms braced against his knees, head in his hands. A million hazy thoughts swirled, smouldering, yet all he could look upon clearly was wanting to close the gap and kiss that girl in her living room.

Was this what he wanted? Would he really go through with it? If it all went to shit—if he fucked it up, if they got hurt, if she regretted letting him in—there’d be no one else to blame, but him. He would have done this to himself, some sort of screwed-up self-sabotage he thought he earned. Someday, when he kicks the bucket, all he is going to leave to that family is grief. Or not even that? Was he worth the suffering? Would they spare him a thought?

His fingers unconsciously drifted down, brushing against the cracked leather of his watch strap. That old, broken dial. The last thing Sarah had ever given him, the last vestige of her memory, hanging off his defeated body.

The hands were still stuck in place—frozen, unmoving. Just like he’d been for all those years. Until now.

Joel exhaled, slow and heavy, dragging a hand down his face. He was already in too deep.

And maybe—maybe he didn’t want to climb back out.

{ taglist 🫶: @darknight3904 , @guiltyasdave , @letsgobarbs , @helskemes , @jodiswiftle , @tinawantstobeadoll , @bergamote-catsandbooks , @cheekychaos28 , @randofantfic , @justagalwhowrites , @emerald-evans , @amyispxnk , @corazondebeskar-reads , @wildemaven , @tuquoquebrute , @elli3williams , @bluemusickid , @bumblepony , @legoemma , @chantelle-mh , @heartlessvirgo , @possiblyafangirl , @pedropascalsbbg , @brklynln -> @kaseynsfws , @prose-before-hoes , @kateg88 , @laliceee , @escaping-reality8 , @mystickittytaco , @penvisions , @elliaze , @eviispunk , @lola-lola-lola , @peepawispunk , @sarahhxx03 , @julielightwood , @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi , @arten1234 , @jhiddles03 , @everinlove , @nobodycanknoww , @ashleyfilm , @rainbowcosmicchaos , @i-howl-like-a-wolf-at-the-moon , @orcasoul , @nunya7394 , @noisynightmarepoetry , @picketniffler , @ameagrice , @mojaveghst , @dinomecanico , @guelyury , @staytrueblue , @queenb-42069 , @suzysface , @btskzfav , @ali-in-w0nderland , @ashhlsstuff , @devotedlypaleluminary , @sagexsenorita , @serenadingtigers , @yourgirlcin , @henrywintersgun , @jadagirl15 , @misshoneypaper , @lunnaisjustvibing , @enchantingchildkitten , @senhoritamayblog , @isla-finke-blog , @millercontracting , @tinawantstobeadoll , @funerals-with-cake , @txlady37 , @inasunlitroom , @clya4 , @callmebyyournick-name , @axshadows , @littlemissoblivious } - thank you!! awwwww we're like a little family <3

196 notes · View notes

your-favourite-yapper · 3 days ago

Text

Mary macdonald hcs (sorta modern au) bc I love her*

Used 2 be bullied in primary school

Not that bad but she just was Not Liked

Has 2 younger siblings and raised by a single dad

Changed schools after begging her dad 2 let her

Watched some 2000s hs movies to learn how to be "cool" bc she didn't have an older sister or someone to tell her how to do that

Is now tech "popular" BUT

She still feels Not Enough

She's mean 2 ppl her friends are mean to

And nice to the ones her friends are nice to

Bc all it sound take was one wrong word, one mistep

And she'd be the weird chubby kid in school noone sat next to again

TRIES HER FUCKING HARDEST AND THEN SOME STUDYING

noone rage studies like her

She gets good grades but is always top 5 nvr top 3

Has cried once when she got 98% in Chem

Not in friend of her friends tho

Doesn't like crying bc she prides herself on being "perfect" mary

The one who always has her homework done and takes 6 APs and is in 5 extracurricular and is the head of 3 of them and is always in some sort of competion or event and is always w perfect hair makeup outfit and is always composed

Has MANY friends but 2 main friend groups

The valkries and like her "popular" friends (emmeline flo chastity)

Lowkey Dislikes most men as a default

"No one wanted to play with me as a little kid

So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since

To make them love me and make it seem effortless"

^^ that's her

Definition of faking it till u make it but she's "made it" and is still faking

Has minibusses every few wks on whether she even knows her "real" personality

Doesn't care abt fashion THAT MUCH

But she knos every microtrend since the 1960s

Half black and half white

And defo went thru a phase where she told ppl that she was acc only like 1/4th black

Bc all the popular girls in the movies aren't black

Teenage Girl

She spends 4hr every day on hair and makeup b4 school

Will always feel like the Odd One Out

Does Not kno how to read social cues

Loves acting dumb or clueless

Type girl to study for 8hrs for a test then act like she didn't even kno there was a test

Wants to major in robotics

(Mainly bc no1 would expect it and she loves the feeling of vindication she gtes whe she shocks ppl who assume shes dumb)

Low middle income family

But doesnt correct her friends when they assume shes upper middle

Has not been in a designer mall

Style is "boho vintage" and preppy pink

The "boho vintage" is clothes she sewed together instead of buying new ones

She just Gaslight every1 into thinking they were b9ught

Loves her friends to bits and pieces

In primary her friend group was odd numbered so every1 would pair up and leave her out

Now it's even w marlene lily dorcas and her and flo emmeline chastity and her

V territorial of the number of ppl in the group

Once when lily was getting a bit TOO close to alice mary pretended alice sent her death threats and alice gets bullied sm she has to leave the school

Either doesn't offer any personal info to anyone

Or tmis sm u get second hand embarassment

"I wish I wasn't such a narcissist

I wish I didn't really kiss

The mirror when I'm on my own

Oh God, I'm gonna die alone" <- also her

Actively oversexualizes herself to hide the fact that she's scared of sex

Has beef w sirius and peter

Peter bc he's the only person in her hs who was in her primary and so he knos what she was like then and she's terrified he'd told the marauders abt that (he lowkey forgot lol)

Highly problematic

Tries her hardest 2 be nice

But she just isn't

Has stolen countless girls bf

Only to dump the bf 1wk later

And start flirting w the girl

5" 5.5

Loves her hair

She's rjl coded but forces herself to be sob coded

Acc LOVES gory horror movies

Loves ice cream but generally prefers savory > sweet

The og Mirrorball girlie

Tried to start a diary for some "self discovery" but stopped after she realized she was faking it there too

Attractiveness = 75% looks and 25% (fake) confidence

"Please im a star....im a star im a star im a sTAR"

the type of person to Not Say Anything when 1 of her friends make a joke she finds annoying/hurtful and then slowly gets more and more mad at them till she ghosts them

Her aura is somehow both toxic green and pink

Is still v much Scarred from primary so even tho she loves her friends she still has "back up groups" she'd go 2 if her friends unfriended her

Has ghosted 2838383893 ppl

Lowkeg a misandrist

Loves to bake

"I just wanted them to like me 🥺🥺" <- her after destroying her perception of self

Cant cry properly bc she can only think of how stupid she probably looks

"Theyre probably going to cheat on me....i should cheat first"

Ways to show love quality time

Ways to recieve love words of affirmation + phy touch but even tho she gives the best hugs u can't hug her wo 3 days warning

Acc v funny

Like constant banger after banger

Looks like a cinnamon roll thinks she could kill you is a cinnamon roll

Pink lipgloss

Always thinks she takes things a Bit Too Far (she acc kinda does)

like her friend could be shit talking someone and she spends 30min talking abt how disgusting that person is and how gross they are and insults them and reads them to filth. (She doenst even hate that person )

hey I should yap -> pvershares for 2hrs -> wait no ew (post yap clarity) -> cool and mysterious era (20 minutes) -> hey I should yap

Genuinely loves her younger siblings but uses up all her energy at school so at home she's v much a bitch to them

Ev she can't even say I love u to them

Can't even sound the words out

Gen believes she ruined them

Loves : chappell mitski and sabrina

Pathological liar

Lies for no rzn at all

Fav color is yellow

Says it's pink

Loves summer

Says she loves spring

Chat she's a good person when it rlly counts I promise

ev she leaves hs

!! And she gets into her dream uni

Yay!!

And then...

Uh oh

U kno the thing that happens when ppl who were popular in hs can't make friends in college

Yea that's mary

But eventually ?? She gets better ??

She goes out on silly walks

And goes 9ut her home wo a detailed 20 step guideline on what to do and how to act

And takes shitty pictures

And forgives and forgets !!

And she grows closer to the valkries !!

And sings shitty karaoke shittily in shitty pubs

And she forgives peter

And she wears more yellow

and she calls her siblings every other day and doesn't have to pretend to be interested

and listens to "cringe" girly talk podcasts bc they acc help her

and it doesn't matter if her laugh is now a tad bit too loud and if its more like a snort

and if her hips grow a bit bigger

Bc she's Human

She lives n breathes and walks and she Healing omigod shes Healing

she starts living for the experience of living and doesn't view herself in 3rd perspective

and she's seeing w her eyes and not the eyes of others and wow

and in one of her classes she gets an 89

And she cries abit but it's Ok!!

bc she still learned

And mare friends in that class!!

And she was ok she was ok she was ok

she gets her 2nd choice internship

And celebrates messily w all her friends

but when the 1yr internship is over she doenst get a perm job

But it's ok!!!

Bc it was an experience she experienced in her lovely life !!!

U kno those tiktoks that go "me making straberry pancakes bc life didnt end when i was 16"?

Thats her

She dates a girl (!!!)

And they communicate

And she holds her and is held by her

And go on silly cirnge dates

And have meaningless convos

And then they break it off amicably

But it's ok!!!

Bc it was an experience!!!!

"And I couldn't be sure

I had a feeling so peculiar

This pain wouldn't be for

Evermore"

And then she gets invited to an interview at her 1st choice job

And she stares at the building from across the street

And realizes

She Made It

And she closes the street in her yellow pumps

And she's thinking abt what she's gonna write in her journal today and thinking of all her friends and it's all ok now and and OMIGOD IS THAT A TRUC-

she gets run over ://

And dies ://

She would've gotten the job :/

If she hadn't uh died ://

*not as much as my wife @mrstellmeafuckingsecret

#:)#I hope u liked this #If u r mean 2 me ill cry so

87 notes · View notes

muqingslover · 6 hours ago

Note

Hii!! Love your writing!!

I wanted to ask if you have any hc about the lads men as fathers? For example, my hc was that Xavier is a boy dad that makes sure his kid will not end up listening to those "alpha podcasts" because he sets the example of a gentle yet "i slayed over 70,000 wanderers", kind yet assertive man. HOWEVER, since the level 175 affinity interaction came out, I'm 100% hes a girl dad raising his daughter to be a strong and independent woman (like the MC he loves dearly). What do you think?

[ my first ask! yahooo! thank you, pookie! I'll give you my thoughts in general (a big mix of everything) but if anyone wants one of the boys in more detail then feel free to ask because I have more to share! ]

Xavier

Alright maybe this is a hot take but I don't think he wants children, like at all.

Xavier does NOT like sharing. He's literally jealous of himself for goodness sake and he really, reaaaally, does not want to share you, especially not with clingy children that would take almost if not all of your attention and also his sleep.

In-game he's also shown to not be super fond of children in general which I find hilarious.

He's lived a long life, sacrificed everything and everyone for you, and spent the rest of his years searching for you. He believes he has the right to be a bit selfish and keep you to himself. Let's be honest, he's earned it.

Zayne

He does want children, but he is the type to plan for it. And I mean *plan*.

Out of everyone, he understands the best what it means for both your body and mental health the changes pregnancy would bring (including the chance of postpartum depression and other complications) so there would be a looooong discussion before anything happened.

When putting together the nursery it's like he's preparing for the apocalypse and not a baby "We might need this" (you won't be needing it), "This was made with [chemical], it could be toxic for you or the baby." "Zayne, it's just a plastic spoon."

Absolutely not as cool as he leads you to believe. You have this man stressed™ but he is so, soooo patient.

He'd be very serious about follow-up appointments and he'll make time for the both of you no matter what.

GIRL DAD ! GIRL DAD ! GIRL DAD !

100% victim of waking up covered in silly drawings and bows in his hair but he says before him than his poor white walls.

You have your hands full monitoring these two that love to sneak around and stuff their cheeks full like hamsters with sweets.

Sylus

Now this man wants a whole LITTER if you'll let him.

Hear me out: TRIPLETS. Oooor, twins with a younger sibling right after. Maybe one more if you are really brave.

This was not planned at all, but when you tell him he's so happy he'd be in actual tears while hugging you.

Luke and Kieran are over the moon about it too. They'd be so cute with the children because they get to be big bros now and they take their role very seriously.

Sylus would pull out his phone or coat and it would be covered in cute stickers. He takes no action in getting rid of it though because he loves it.

Those children are S P O I L E D. You have to take the role of saying no otherwise he'd take over the world just because his baby asked to be queen of the world on a random Thursday.

Rafayel

I think he's on the same boat as Xavier but for different reasons.

I have some...perhaps...controversial takes on this little guy in general so I'll leave it open for your interpretation hehe

love him though<3

Caleb

I know I know everyone says he'd be the best girl dad but PLEASE pleaaaase give this man a little boy.

If you think women's baby fever are bad just wait until you see Caleb's

He would draw on your belly bump where he thinks the baby is and talk to him even while you're asleep

This guy is taking lessons about pregnancy, how to support you during birth and he is 100% in one of those moms group chat.

"Caleb we do not need another onesie—" "But look! Look how cute it is! Oh, and the little hat? C'mon angel, please?" (Ban him from shopping by himself because he comes back with WAY too many things you do not need)

He loves and I mean LOVES matching clothes. From silly costumes, to pajamas and outside outfits.

So. Many. Pictures. He takes pictures all the time to keep them as memories because if something were to happen where you or he lost their memories again then they'd forever be preserved :(

[ I have so much more to say about this but maybe I'll just make a separate post for each of them ]

135 notes · View notes

eden-falls · 3 days ago

Text

the manwhores of the realm. i mean fellowship of the ring

design notes under cut!! this is the product of a lot of work and i planned to design EVERYONE but i got tired and this is a good stopping point. for now.

expect more sansûkh gigolas soon. what a genuinely phenomenal piece of writing

gandalf:

• just an unassuming scruffy old guy. nothing weird going on here definitely not a minor god wandering around kidnapping hobbits for quests

• the staff was inspired by a shepherd's crook which felt appropriate considering his role

• i did also design gandalf the white but i dont like that one as much so if it ever comes up i'll go back to it

the hobbits:

• tails!! the length indicates age which is why pippin's is the shortest

• frodo's outfit is inspired by welsh traditional clothing (i am welsh) while merry and pip are kinda more general edwardian style and sam more medieval aligned based on a particular vintage costume design i dug up

• pippin's pockets are endless and hold many mysteries! he ties his hair like that to look taller

aragorn:

• to be honest. still not sure about him. i think the green is a mistake when putting him next to legolas and i sort of think the elves of rivendell go for deeper blues and purples, but my reasoning for the green was like... nature and camouflage? this one is still subject to change colour wise

• i didn't forget arwen's necklace he just wears it under the jacket

• yah theres not really any real life inspo. the cut of the jacket is viking i think but it's like 90% made up

• the books say he is the tallest so i let that hold true. however. know i am not happy about it and will probably continue to draw legolas the tallest otherwise

boromir

• first and foremost black hair. idgaf thats what the books say and in this regard i like canon more so

• i didnt wanna just do black and white gondorian colours so i played about with saturation a bit

• i moved the tree from the shirt area to his belt buckle only because i have made the shirt too complex to properly display it

• a little inspired by traditional turkish wear! i don't have much reasoning its just how i imagine minas tirith style clothing

legolas:

• hes a WOOD ELF he is GREEN 💚

• always has a stray leaf in his hair its literally in the name

• he has scabbards for his daggers on the back of his belt

• silver metal details rather than golden like the others

• like pippin's pockets nobody knows how deep his little bag actually is. he probably puts bugs in it or something

• his bow is pretty simple. i like to think he made it himself or maybe tauriel if we r considering her canon

• hair defies physics slightly

gimli

• high ponytail gimli truther it's just GOOD

• as is usually headcanoned, there's an overwhelming viking influence here. i felt however that horns on the helmet would be too much (and historically inaccurate if thats something that matters)

• jewel tones! i think he has an appreciation for aesthetics like this. nice patterning as well

• i added leather armour here but i probably won't draw it very often because why would he wear armour to smooch legolas. it's just so i can be consistent when i DO draw it honestly

#lotr #the fellowship of the ring #gandalf #frodo #aragorn #boromir #legolas #gimli #gigolas #samfro #merry brandybuck #pippin took #the hobbit #lord of the rings #lotr fanart #character design

82 notes · View notes

lsunstreakerl · 3 days ago

Note

my prompt has been extremely fulfilled but im just putting this out in the universe… maxiel or lestappen, with a Significant age difference where max is inexperienced, like a shy blushing type. and oop, daddy kink unlocked…. 🙂‍↕️

obviously, again, this has gotten out of hand. in the name of the father, the son, and the holy coldplums, I gift to you all the reason for my relative radio silence: maxiel corporate boytoy.

I've got. hmmmm. about 8k of it written at the moment, so I'm posting the first few chunks for you all to read. here is 2.5k of exposition, alternating POV's. HI: kink prompt. obviously. explicit content ahead.

pairings: daniel ricciardo/max verstappen

relevant heads up: power imbalance, age difference, work environment that would make an HR department cry. dirtbag daniel (somewhat), inexperienced max.

Daniel doesn't really keep up with the interns- supposedly he's been observing them all year, narrowing them down the best ones, the perfect fit for the company.

In reality, he pays them no mind and lets the supervisors tell him who they want. It's a good system, and it hasn't failed him yet.

He's walking with Blake down across the loft portion of the fourth floor- he can see down across the glass at some of the other levels, and it still blows his mind sometimes that everyone he can see works for him.

Blake is nattering on about the next fiscal year's budget- Daniel will pay attention to it when the paperwork is on his desk, and not a moment sooner. His eyes are bouncing around, landing on familiar and unfamiliar faces, older and experienced supervisors training the young blood.

His attention snags. There's someone across the walkway, half leaning over a desk and gesturing at something on a monitor. Daniel is more distracted at the way his slacks fit, hugging his thighs and narrowing into a waist that Daniel immediately wants to take a bite out of.

He's not sure when they started hiring pornstars.

"Blake- who is that? Over by Scarlett's desk."

Blake looks confused for a moment before his face lights up in recognition.

"Oh! That's Max- he's one of the interns for the year, and he's really good on the numbers end- kid's got a real solid brain in him. I was actually hoping to talk to you about him- he's my favorite intern I've ever had in the department, and I think he'd be really good full time."

Daniel thinks he'd be really good bent over the desk. All the way.

"Yeah, for sure man. Well bring him on board."

"Uh, Dan?"

Daniel's still walking, but he's pivoted his course, making his way over to Scarlett's desk. She and Max have their heads together- probably trying to actually do Daniel's company some good, honest work.

Daniel doesn't care.

There's more details as Daniel gets closer- Max has blonde hair, just on the side of too short around the back of his head, slightly longer at the top. It's gelled, which- they can fix that. If the women in the company don't break him of the habit, Daniel will just change the dress code.

His shoulders are broad under the white button up, which really adds to the waist thing he's got going on- Daniel wants to wrap his hands around him, see if it feels as perfect as it looks.

He's definitely not complaining about his back view though- Max has a cute ass. Daniel wants to put teeth marks in it.

Scarlett notices them approaching, straightening up.

"Daniel! Blake! This is Max, our finance and accounting intern for the year. Max, this is Daniel- you should know who he is, and Blake- you should also know who he is."

Max spins around, and Daniel wants to hire him on the spot. He's got a unique face- European of some kind, probably. He also has a perfect set of DSL's.

Max smiles, eyes scrunching up into little crescents. There's a freckle on his lip.

"Hello! Mr. Friend, it is of course nice to meet you again. It is nice to meet you as well, Mr. Ricciardo."

Oh, he has a lisp. They're definitely keeping him.

"Just Blake is fine, Max. Dan over here prefers his first name too- everything else is too stuffy. We're not that kind of workplace."

Daniel reaches out to shake Max's hand- he has long fingers, blunt squared off nails. No jewelry, and most importantly- no ring.

He flashes Max his best smile, and the kid goes a bit red, cheeks flushing as his eyes dart away for a moment.

Bingo. Point for Daniel.

Daniel likes the way he blushes, wonders how deep it can get, how far it can go.

"So Max- how do ya like working for the company?"

Daniel keeps his voice light, but his eyes are locked on Max. To his credit, Max doesn't look away again, holds his gaze as he starts talking.

"It is very nice! The teamwork is helpful, and everyone has been kind."

He talks with his hands, which reminds Daniel of the Italian side of his family- although with the accent, Max has got to be some kind of Northern European.

"Glad to hear it, Maxy."

Ding ding! Another point for Daniel.

Max goes red, stuttering over his words for a moment. Daniel drinks it in, the way Max is completely derailed, just at the nickname. He's cute.

Daniel gives him another smile as he starts walking away again- and then a lightning quick wink, just to see the way Max blinks, like a deer in headlights.

Blake lets them get out of earshot before he starts complaining.

"Dan, mate- do not fuck my intern, please. I want him to stick around."

Daniel's grinning, hands in his pockets. This day is going great.

"Relax, Blake. I'm not going to fuck your intern."

Blake eyes him suspiciously.

"Really? Because those are kind of your textbook steps on the way to getting laid."

Daniel whistles, thinking about the rest of the day. He'll cater lunch to the finance department, as a little treat. Make up some shit about good budgeting.

"I'm going to fuck my employee. There's a difference."

Blake stops in his tracks for a moment.

"Dan. You cannot seriously tell me you're going to poach one of the brightest minds to come through my department to get your dick wet man, come on."

Daniel shrugs.

"I'll let you give him some busywork- not too much though, I'll be keeping him occupied."

Blake rolls his eyes.

"Busy on his knees, maybe."

Daniel snaps his fingers, shooting him finger guns. This is why he likes Blake- he gets him.

"Exactly! I'm buying your department lunch, what do you guys like?"

"Oh sweet- there's this Greek place a couple blocks over-"

------

None of the other interns even stood a chance- Max is unofficially hired four months before the end of the internship period.

It doesn't look as biased as Daniel had wondered- Max really does stand out from the other interns in terms of the quality of his work, and he gets along well with the team.

It would be a shame Daniel isn't actually interested in that from him, if not for the way that he's just so cute. Daniel's a bit hedonistic, believes in having fun, and Max definitely looks like fun.

He's gone ahead and let Blake handle telling Max about his responsibilities shift- he's got some bullshit analytics job Daniel hadn't even known they had. The important thing is that it requires him to visit Daniel often. He normally hates being interrupted, but this is one he won't mind, not if it means getting to tease Max in the relative privacy of his office.

Now he just has to wait.

------

Max carefully flicks through his printed report. He's nervous- everyone has said Daniel is nice, but he also has a famous hatred for paperwork, and Max is about to dump some on his desk. He'd seemed friendly enough in the few moments he'd talked to Max, even if Max had thoroughly embarrassed himself, stumbling over his words and losing his train of thought.

He knows he's checked for typos a million times, but this final check is the most important. The new responsibilities on Max's plate aren't quite what he was doing before, but he's up for the challenge.

He checks the last page, satisfied, before tugging at the end of his shirt sleeves, hopes he looks presentable enough to be going to the top floor. He's never really gone higher than six- certainly has never had a need to go to eight, where Daniel's office is.

The elevator ride is quick, and Max is on the eighth floor sooner than he'd like.

He passes Blake's office on his way to Daniel's, who gives him a weird little half salute- odd, but most CFO's are.

Daniel's door is closed. Max had really been hoping it would be open- having to knock is stressing him out. He's not sure if Daniel is in a meeting, or has guests, or anything.

Surely his report can't be this important. Technically, his report should be able to go to Blake, but- that's none of Max's business.

He breathes out slow before he raises his fist and knocks, knuckles rapping firmly against the door.

There's a moment of silence during which Max assumes he's about to be fired- before he's even officially hired on, which would surely be some kind of office record.

"Come in."

Daniel's voice is clear, and Max pushes the door open, slips inside. Daniel is leaned back in his chair, one ankle crossed over his other knee. His suit jacket is open, and the first few buttons of his shirt are undone, showcasing his neck- long golden skin, the kind of tan Max could never manage.

"Hey, Maxy. Whatcha got for me?"

Max wills his fingers not to shake as he steps forward, shoes quiet in the plush flooring of Daniel's rug.

"I have- from the last quarter, the missing earnings report."

Daniel's eyes are... not on Max's face. He hopes he hasn't somehow spilled something on himself.

"Yeah?"

Max nods.

Daniel moves his mouse, minimizes his monitor screens before moving a stack of binders off of the side of his desk.

"Sit, tell me about it."

Max blinks, confused. There's no chair across from Daniel's desk- and he doesn't think he's being asked to sit on the floor.

"Sit..?"

Daniel nods at the space he's cleared on the desk, and Max's heart jumps into his throat- it feels inappropriate somehow, but Daniel is saying it's okay, so-

He's not quite tall enough, has to do a little hop braced on his hand to get up there, and one of Daniel's hands is hovering near his waist- maybe in case he falls.

Max clears his throat, tries to ignore the heat in his face.

"So, the materials department, and their quarterly budget-"

------

Daniel is very pleased with himself. Sure, Blake looks annoyed every time he has to bring his own chair with him to talk to Daniel, but it's a small price to pay for what Daniel gets in return.

He's been carefully inching the clear space on the desk closer to him- Max is so delightfully nervous about sitting on his desk, even two weeks after he'd made him do it the first time.

Daniel is taking things slow with him- slower than he normally would, but that's because he's been accused of playing with his food.

He can't help it- Max is too cute. The way he's just slightly too short, has to do a little hop, the way he squeezes his thighs together to try not to take up space- Daniel wants to take a bite out of him.

He's being patient.

It's especially delicate today- the space Daniel has cleared, the only available space on the desk- it's practically right in front of Daniel. He has his chair scooted back a bit, so that Max won't feel like he's directly in his lap, but- he might as well be.

He's looking forward to it, and if he's lucky Max will really go pink. Surely he notices when he's bright red, but he always powers through anyways.

Blake walks into his office, doesn't bother knocking- everyone else knows Daniel doesn't care for it, but he likes when Max does it.

He sighs, leaning his hip against the desk.

"Would you just fuck him already, please? He's a phenomenal worker Dan, I'd like to actually take advantage of that."

Daniel smiles at him.

"What, you don't want to sit on my desk and tell me that?"

Blake rolls his eyes, and he has the expression Daniel knows means he's begging for divine patience.

"You're toying with him, Dan."

Daniel shrugs, twisting a pen between his fingers, spinning it like a drumstick.

"Yeah babe, that's the point. He's cute like that- perfect little toy, I kind of want to wrap him in a bow. But I'm being patient, Blake, I thought you wanted me to work on that?"

Blake snorts, snatching the pen from Daniel's fingers.

"I meant that in terms of company growth and you know it. But I'll keep the ribbon thing in mind for the office Christmas party, how's that?"

"You do love me!"

------

Max straightens his stack of papers. He's got another report ready, and he's splashed cold water on his face, a reminder that Daniel is his boss- his boss boss, the CEO. Just because he's terribly attractive doesn't mean Max gets to drool over him.

Not to mention- he's so busy there's almost never space on the desk, so Max is probably just a passing blip in his day, barely noticeable.

The elevator dings as the doors slide open, and Max gives Blake a small wave as he passes by his office door. He's not sure what's endeared him to Blake, but the CFO treats him somewhat fondly, in a way that's almost demeaning. Max can't figure it out.

Blake waves back anyways, and then Max is knocking on Daniel's door again.

A beat of silence, and then Daniel is calling him in, but he has a finger pressed to his lips when Max slips inside, and Max freezes. There's voices from one of Daniel's monitors, and Max moves back towards the door, only for Daniel to snap his fingers at him.

Max looks back over and Daniel gestures at his desk, moving his mouse for a moment.

"C'mere, it's fine- I'm almost done."

There's not- Max looks for his usual space by the corner, but it's messy again, the only space is along the edge right in the middle, directly in front of Daniel.

Surely Daniel doesn't mean...

Daniel quirks an eyebrow and Max shoves the doubt down, carefully hopping up onto the desk. Daniel's camera doesn't look like it's on, thankfully, but he's afraid to even breathe as they all exchange their goodbyes.

Daniel chimes in with his own, and then he's leaning forward, chest between Max's knees as he reaches past him to fiddle with the speakers, one palm pressing on Max's thigh to support himself.

Max feels the heat of his palm like a brand. He's frozen still- his face has to be bright red, there's no way it isn't. He fights not to squeeze his thighs together, ignores the warmth starting to pool in his gut.

Daniel just wants to talk about quarter reports.

More like listen to Max talk about quarter reports, but the point remains the same.

Daniel gives Max's thigh a little pat as he leans back, grinning at him.

"Sorry about that babe, meeting went long. What do you have for me?"

Max swallows, tries to pull himself back together.

"So I noticed in the fiscal budget for 2016 a few years ago..."

#ficlet #kind of #when I put it all together on ao3 it will be fic sized #maxiel corporate au #kink prompt #sunny where is the daddy kink you all ask #it comes in later

60 notes · View notes

nabiracha · 1 day ago

Text

Teacher, teacher ~ B.C

This is also on Wattpad.

Hola~ It's me again! I hope you're doing well :) All characters should be depicted as over 18 years of age. !!!!MDNI!!!!

Synopsis: You're teacher sees the way you look at him and when you misbehave in class he decides it's best he deal you...

Warnings: Age gap, studentxteacher, use of baby, princess, y/n, unprotected sex, degrading...I definitely missed some but oh well.

"Yah! Give it back!" I had forgotten I was in school, yelling at the kid- my friends, next to me who stole my phone. First of all, we weren't even allowed to have our phones out during lessons. Second, I had interrupted my teachers lesson.

"Y/n." The voice was cold, stern. I could feel his gaze on me, burning like an inferno between my legs as warmth pools in my abdomen. My gaze moves my friend to the teacher, my cheeks heating up in embarrassment. "Yes...Mr. Bang?"

His gaze was stern. I knew just from the look that I was in deep shit. "Stay after class." I nodded, not wanting to further embarrass myself. The class went by so slowly after that, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my baby pink skirt. Fuck, I was scared. Sure, I had gotten in trouble before, who hasn't? But this was Mr. Bang. The man who's name I called when my fingers explored myself into the late night. The man who I could never take my eyes off, just one look from him and I was dripping onto my panties.

My friend has snickered, finally handing my phone back as I glared at her. "You're buying me coffee after that, asshat." I had told her just before the bell rang. She just laughed, shooting me a thumbs up and mumbling some 'good luck' shit. I packed my stuff back up into my bag, walking up to Mr. Bang's desk. I fiddled with the the hem of my sweater, cream white in color.

"Y/n. You know why I told you to stay after class, no?" I nodded, not meeting his gaze. I was embarrassed, and oddly turned on by the sternness in his voice. I shouldn't be thinking that, he's too old for me. But fuck, I can't stop my imagination. Nor do I truly want to. "Yes, sir. I do."

He hummed in acknowledgement, leaning back against his deck. "You should be punished, don't you agree?" I-what? That sounded sexual, but maybe I'm delusional. "Yes sir."

He brought a bent finger under my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. Holy hell this man is so fine. I gulped, forcing down my nerves. He smirked. He...just smirked. "I see the way you look at me, princess."

"Princess?" My eyebrows furrowed as I questioned the nickname. But I didn't get a reply. "I don't have another class the rest of the day," He spoke, his eyes flooding with lust as his gaze raked down my form. "Are you attracted to me, baby?" My eyes had widened more than I thought possible. Was I? "Yes..."

He grinned like a kid who just got a lollipop. I was done for. My panties were soaked through, my essence making my inner thighs sticky with arousal. "Good girl."

His lips met mine roughly like he had been waiting centuries for this. I let out a surprised gasp moments before returning the kiss. My hands moved up his shoulders to tangle in his wavy hair. I loved him like this, his hair natural like he hadn't put much thought into doing it this morning. Yet, somehow it was perfect.

His hands went to my waist, turning me around so I was now the one with my thighs pressed against his desk. I moved, sitting down on his desk now. His hands found my thigh, his touch like fire to ice. His fingers slipped under my skirt. "Fuck, baby. I've wanted you so long, you know?" I was out of breath when he pulled away from the kiss, my lips swollen and glossy. "Me too."

His fingers trailed my inner thighs, his knee forcing my legs open so he could settle between them. We knew this had to be quick, and I knew I'd have to be quiet. He dropped to his knees, his face disappearing beneath my skirt. His fingers brushed against my clit through the strawberry printed panties I wore, making me gasp. I could feel his smirk without actually having to see it. He kissed me through my panties before hooking his fingers in the waistband and pulling them down my legs. I hadn't noticed it, when he shoved my panties in his pockets, but he had.

"Oh- fuck..." I gasped when his tongue gave an experimental lick. He groaned as he licked again, more confident this time. "You taste so good, baby." His lips latched around my clit, his tongue pushing into my entrance. I moaned, my back arching. "Fuck, chan."

He was so good at this, like euphoria if it was a tongue. I swear I've never had oral like this, it had me seeing stars. My hands tangled in his hair as he lapped more. I pulled my skirt up, getting the perfect view of him on his knees, mouth around my pussy with hazy eyes like he was pussy drunk.

He pulled away, grinning like an idiot. He was a messy eater, spit and my arousal coating his chin. It only served to make me wetter. His fingers trailed my inner thighs once again and when they met my clit he rubbed in slow, sensual circles. "Feel good? Hm, maybe you want more?" He taunted. I could only offer a nod, not trusting my voice to spit out the words for me. "Words, baby." He slipped a finger, then two inside me. He curled them expertly, making me moan, "Y-yes, sir. Need more, please." My voice was pathetic but I couldn't bring myself to care.

He gave in, pulling his fingers out of me. He made sure I was looking at him when he brought his fingers to his mouth, moaning around his digits at the taste of me lingering on them. He wasted no time in pulling his belt off, letting hid pants pool around his feet. Fuck, he was hot no matter what he did.

My eyes traveled lower, a gasp escaping me at the sheer size of him. He was thick and at least 6 inches. He had a pretty vein traveling from the base up to the head, the swollen, leaking head of his cock. I wanted nothing more than to wrap my lips around it and taste him, but I was more desperate to have his cock in me after months of dreaming of it.

And he did that just for me. "Ready, baby? It might hurt." I nodded, widening my legs further. I laid back on his desk now, his papers long forgotten. He ran the tip of his cock through my folds several times, causing me to twitch. "Please, channie." I all but begged, hands gripping the edge of the desk. He smirked, chuckling lowly to himself. "So impatient." He pushed in inch by inch, stretching me open. I moaned, loud. His hand slapped on my mouth, effectively muffling my moans. "Shh, baby. Don't wanna get caught, do you?" I shook my head, my moans muffled by his hand. "That's what I thought."

He pulled back all the way just to slam into me, my eyes rolling back as i moaned. "Such a cock hungry whore, huh?" He repeated the action several times, tears starting to form in my eyes as his head kissed my cervix every time. He moved my legs up onto his shoulders as he sped up. I was a moaning, whimpering mess.

"Mhm, such a pretty slut. Taking her teacher's cock so well, huh?" He smirked when I clenched around him, getting close. He brought his other hand down, thumb pressing against my clit and rubbing in tight circles. My back arched, my moans growing in pitch. "Close? Me too, baby"

It only took a few more thrust to have me moaning his name, although muffled by his hand, my juices coating his cock as he spilled inside me, moaning as well.

"Don't get in trouble again, okay princess?"

I don't know how I feel about it, honestly. I hope you like it though :)))

#skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan #christopher bang #skz #bang chan smut #chan smut #smut #chan fanfic #bangchan fanfic #fanfic

50 notes · View notes

weirdmagideon · 2 days ago

Text

Gideon headcanons because we need more of them I think‼️

-Born on July 9th, 2002 (this kid is older than me wtf)

-Rainbow baby, idk why but it just makes sense to me.

-He has BPD and OCD because I say so (l'm projecting)

-He becomes a correctional psychologist when he's older. He's been in the prison system and he's seen what it does to other people, he genuinely wants to help and he's better at listening to people when he's older.

-Volunteers at an animal shelter post weirdmageddon.

-Tries to reconnect with his parents post weirdmageddon. He eventually connects really well with his mom, but his relationship with his dad is always a bit weird and awkward.

-Briefly thought about becoming a vampire so he doesn't have to grow out of the cute kid thing, decided against it because the town was dumb, but not that dumb.

-His dad tried to fix his corrupting soul/anger issues using the memory gun, and it backfired horribly by blocking out most of his memories with his parents. (Also I should note that he does have a memory tube thing in the graphic novel and I think more people should know about it)

-In a pokemon au he would have a Woobat fight me. (Pale blue, psychic, no neck, ect)

-Befriends Pacifica post weirdmageddon. It kinda starts out as them hanging out together because nobody else will, but they end up having a genuine connection.

-He helps his ex convict friends with functioning in the real world after weirdmageddon, as much as he can anyways.

-Has minor identity crisis after weirdmageddon and during his "regular kid phase" he wants to be normal but normal doesn't really fit him.

-Eventually adopts the biker aesthetic from the ex-convicts after a while too. Ghost eyes gives him his old blue headband from prison. He kinda plays into the whole "outcast" thing.

-I also just like the idea of cute aesthetic -> actually evil and punk aesthetic -> chill guy that's trying to be better if that makes sense lmao.

-Ghost eyes just kinda lives with him now. He's allowed to adopt a grown ass man, as a treat.

-Some of the ex-convicts end up working at Bud's auto mart. And fix up the cars after they kinda took over during weirdmageddon.

-Ghost eyes and Gideon's parents have a weird relationship at first, but they eventually kinda co-parent him together. (Pic related)

-His "love" for Mabel was actually just him getting super attached to his first friend that treated him like a person and was around his age and thinking “she's a girl and I like her therefore we need to date each other”

-Loves rodents and small birds :)

-He also really likes to read. He and Dipper like the same books, but they have wildly different takes that they will fight each other over.

-Speaking of Dipper he kinda becomes a mentor/ older sibling figure to him. Dipper finds himself seeing himself in Gideon and giving him advice and stuff, and Gideon ends up genuinely listening to him.

-They share a lot of interests surprisingly! Mysteries, the secrets of Gravity Falls, books that are probably meant for older readers, ect. They don't agree on much though. (Dipper and Gideon parallels make me go insane btw)

-He and Pacifica are able to be friends with Mabel and her group of friends after a while. Gideon feels more comfortable in girl friend groups, he feels like he's able to be himself more.

-After a while Mrs Gleeful starts to regain her memories, and she starts to get overwhelmed. Her and Gideon stay at the mystery shack for a bit to sort out their feelings about both her and Bud being in a brainwash cult and the fact that Gideon doesn't remember a lot of his childhood because of it. (Also Mrs Gleeful and Melody should be friends I think. Also Gideon and Soos should also be friends. Everyone should be friends. Friendship is magic guys.)

-He had his mom's hair color before the amulet changed it. I'm a brown haired Gideon truther sorry but not really.

-His hair goes back to normal sorta?? Some parts are permanently white. He might start dying his hair one color so it doesn't stand out as much.

-His hair was that long because he physically couldn't cut it due to the effects of the amulet. (This is the most oddly specific curse ever who tf made this amulet)

-He is able to cut his hair eventually, but he doesn't realize it on his own. A monster tries to attack him but it gets his hair instead, giving him the first haircut he's had in years lmao.

-He doesn't know that Ford is the author. He actively avoids him because he associates his face with being tortured for like. Two days straight.

-He eventually finds out after a while and he's...Very conflicted. On one hand he looked up to this guy and even sorta admired him, but over time he started to blame "whoever's bright idea it was to hide a book of cursed spells near a kindergarten”

-Ford tried to apologize to him and it's extremely awkward because 1. Ford is the most autistic man alive and 2. Gideon tried to kill his grandkids because of the amulets' influence. Everyone involved feels really guilty, confused and terrible.

-Gideon gets over it eventually though. It takes the help of Ford explaining why he did what he did (aka the evil demon ex making him not think clearly) and a therapist, but he slowly gets better.

-The amulet was it's own entity that talked to him, Gideon considered it a friend even. After he loses it, when he's almost asleep, he can hear it whispering to him. Whispering how It misses him so much, and he needs to take revenge on those that wronged the both of them.

-The whispers slowly get fainter in prison, and completely stop post weirdmageddon.

-Gideon gets a FUCKING THERAPIST‼️

#gideon gleeful #skully speaks #gravity falls #gideon gleeful headcanon #gf headcanons #gravity falls hcs #gravity falls headcanons #gravity falls ghost eyes #ghost eyes gravity falls #ghost eyes #mrs gleeful #bud gleeful #dipper pines #mabel pines #pacifica northwest #stanford pines

42 notes · View notes

loveneversleepss · 2 days ago

Text

TROPE SERIES: Lee Felix

UNFINISHED

Pairing: Brother-in-law!Felix x Princess!F Reader, AU fantasy world (royalty), reader has an identical twin.

Trope: Marriage pact, lovers in denial

Warnings: smut duh, cursing, jealousy, angst, manipulation, physical abuse, unprotected sex(Oopsie), nicknames(Princess,baby), and heartbreak lol.

A/n: By marriage pact I mean with the reader’s twin sister.

~~~

It has always been known that your twin sister would be queen. And you… always a princess.

She is the older one after-all. But nevertheless you were made to believe that you are less. Who could beat the crown princess? Everything was handed to her. Identical to you and yet not.

You were born to be her forever servant. To abide by her side, to her wishes and accept it.

But you would not go down without a fight.

“How are you feeling today?” You ask as you lace the white strings to your sister’s wedding gown. Today she is getting married. To her childhood love, who was also yours, until she stole him right under your feet. Like a rug that was swept.

Lee Felix. A prince from another kingdom. A simple transaction to join their hands.

“A bit nervous, but I know he will love how I look.” This all for him after-all. To sink her claws further.

“Of course, sister, you look divine.”

She turns her head to look back at you, not caring for the mirror in front of her, to assess your reaction. “Oh, y/n.”

Suddenly tears build up in her eyes. Scaring down the cheeks that are yours. Her bottom lip pouts. “I am so grateful that I have you.”

A sudden sentiment? She wants something.

“Don’t cry, Serena.” I reach up to swipe a tear away gently.

“I have a favor to ask, my dear sister.”

Here we go. She cups my hands with her and brings me over to a the small couch in her room. Dragging me along to sit with her.

She sucks in a breath. “Tonight, after the marriage party is over. He will take me to his room, to congregate our joint of hands.”

“Yes… that is procedure for the future rulers.”

“But I do not want to, or rather, I can’t.” Her brows bunch upwards. She squeezes my palms as I feel my pulse quicken. She better not be thinking what I am thinking.

There have been times in the past where your sister and you have posed as the other. A way for her to get out of chores or cheat on a school test. You were always commanded to do whatever she said. An order by the crown princess. An order by your elder sister. You were scared to say no.

“Sister, do you think you could do it for me? Go through with the night with him. And if it works, to continue whenever he wants to pleasure himself?”

She. Has. To. Be. Joking. You stand up. Looking at her in utter disbelief. Shocked.

“But why? Why do you not want to?”

“I intend to stay pure, for life. To be able to go to heaven. I have made a promise with god.”

“Serena… he will know.” Having sex with your childhood crush in your sisters stead is not how you imagined your future. You may be identical, but that much.

“No, he won’t. And if he does… I will explain it to him. He will have to abide by me after we marry.”

Is this her way of making up to you after all those things she did to secure him? You are a virgin. Made sure by her, and you will never marry. Life to solidarity. It was clear she did all of it to show she can easily take what you have.

“Is it an order?” You grit out through your teeth.

Her face falls. “…yes.”

“Then so be it.” Your heels click against the white marble floor as you make your way over to the door. You slam it shut.

You await on the blue sheets of the bed, awaiting your sister’s groom. She stated that he insisted to grab champagne to celebrate in private and she took the opportunity to switch with you. Your hair done like she had. And the clothes.

A silk night gown with all-too revealing pink lingerie underneath. Barely the lace covering your parts. And the stockings. Embarrassingly soft.

MORE ON MY WATTPAD

#stray kids #stray kids stay #stray kids imagines #stray kids series #straykids hard hours #straykids smut #lee felix smut #felix hard hours #stray kids smut #felix smut #skz hard thoughts #lee yongbok smut #straykidshardhours

36 notes · View notes

animatewarriorcats · 9 hours ago

Text

Stoatfur! This description got long so here's the character part. Stoatfur has no living relatives, he was not originally listed in the Allegiances of the Last Hope, so we don't know who his mentor specifically is, but it was likely one of the four cats he was on a patrol with during a scene when Lionblaze picks a fight with Ratscar to prove he can change his destiny to Cinderheart by losing a fight, so either Ratscar, Smokefoot, Dawnpelt, or Olivenose. It does seem it was meant to be Ratscar though, as Stoatpaw is seen on a messenger patrol with Ratscar again later. He is also seen in the final battle, as a messenger seeking help for Shadowclan. She appears again in bramblestar's storm during the fight against the badgers, and on a patrol later on in the book.

I have to admit I didn't notice Stoatfur on my first reading of The Last Hope and Bramblestar's Storm, but they are a pretty interesting cat. As Stoatpaw he is described as a ginger and white tom in The Last Hope, but as Stoatfur she is described as a tortie and white she-cat in Bramblestar's Storm. plus to make the change more interesting, in their other two allegiances descriptions, the descriptions are tied-one each-and out of order chronologically and according to publish date, so while it would be totally valid and very cool to see Stoatfur as a canon trans femme cat, I think the story could also be more complicated as they are described as ginger tom, tortie she-cat, tortie she-cat, ginger tom in order. Maybe Stoatfur is bi-gender, maybe Stoatfur is fluid, maybe stoatfur does whatever the hell Stoatfur likes. I'm here for every headcanon. As result of this I debated how to depict Stoatfur, as I've been leaning into the weird british shorthair genetics for Shadowclan I spent a considerable amount of time researching what a golden tortoiseshell might look like, as I felt like the ticked golden tabbies are closest to the warm summer coat of a stoat, with the red coat and darker tipped tail feet and face markings. I don't think I totally know whether I want them to be a ticked tortie for animation reasons, but I know I wanted to present it as an option (shoutout to the design I saw where she transistioned and dyes her fur with mud to be a tortie). Either way as I was doing the research I found its actually Really Hard to find and identify golden tabby tortoiseshells, partly because most people interested in the golden genes are because of the effect it has on non-red cats thus excluding red genes and torties for the most part, but also because when you push the black tip of the tabby pattern all the way out of the hair with the golden wide band genes it all starts to look really ginger. Here is a smattering of golden torties (and one silver shaded/ticked tortie for comparison) for your viewing pleasure:

#stoatfur #warrior #Shadowclan #warriors #warriorcats #warriorcat #warriorcat designs #warriorcats designs #warrior cats designs #warriors designs

57 notes · View notes

stellar-waves · 2 days ago

Text

arrow

. . .

[ boondock saints : murphy + fem!reader ] fluffy february : prompt 15 ⚠ warnings: none really, established relationship, canon-adjacent-ish, high sugar content A/N: This is more like it. Sorry for all the angst, guys. Also, this prompt obviously made me think of Daryl, too. And no I'm not knocking out more just to catch up. Hope you like it! 💗

. . .

“Close yer eyes.” You do as Murphy instructs, but slightly open one eye to peek at him. “No peeking!” He says with a laugh, quickly turning around and taking your wrists to move your hands over your eyes.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you oblige, wondering what he could possibly be concocting for you. After a long day at work, you’re honestly not really in the mood for a big surprise, but you love your idiot Irish boyfriend, and if he’s excited about something, then it’s all good.

“Alright, open ‘em, lass.” You feel your cheeks blush before you pull your hands down; doesn’t matter how many times he calls you that, the way he says it makes you melt every single time.

You open your eyes to find him standing directly before you, holding a small blue box wrapped with a white ribbon. Immediately, you know it’s jewelry, just from what you’ve seen in the movies and not from actual experience. And logic has you ruling out a very serious piece of jewelry that would be much too soon to even be a thought in your relationship. Plus, the size of the box is too wide and too shallow for that jewelry.

Murphy’s entire face smiles, the blue of the box matching the color of his beautiful eyes. “Go ahead, yeah. Open it!” he encourages, handing the box to you as your nerves spark up the back of your neck.

You finally oblige, taking the box, carefully undoing the white ribbon, and lifting the lid. The box reveals a simple silver necklace with an arrow charm linked horizontally in the middle of the thin chain. You smile because it’s so beautiful, but you are also confused about why he would do this and what the occasion could possibly be.

“Just because I love ye,” Murphy affirms as if he’s reading your mind. He’s gotten pretty good at that, actually.

“It’s beautiful, babe. Thank you.” You look up and flash your famous grin at him, the kind that makes his knees weak.

He breaks into a proper grin himself and reaches into the box with his tattooed hand to gently pull out the necklace. “Here, let’s put it on ye.”

His fairly large fingers struggle a bit to open the tiny clasp, but he finally does, and you twist your hair up off your neck as he reaches around. You love that feeling when he’s close to you, touching you, and it makes you genuinely forget your troubles from the day.

“So there is a significance here,” he starts to explain.

“You mean, like, why an arrow?”

“Aye. It signifies direction, force, movement, and power. When it’s pointed to the left, it wards off evil. But pointing it to the right shows protection.”

You hum, smiling more and chuckling a little because that’s the most Murphy-like reason for his jewelry selection. All the times have you heard him and his brother remind each other that they’re “destroying all that which is evil, so that which is good shall flourish.”

Your curiosity piques, making you want to strain to see which direction he’s placed the arrow against your clavicle. But you choose not to move, not to break the contact of his fingers grazing the back of your neck. “So which way is it pointing?”

Murphy grunts a soft laugh. “To the right. Because I’ll always protect ye.” He says it with such a soft yet direct assurance that makes you swoon. You let your hair down when his hands move down your shoulders, gently spinning you around so he can see how it looks, breathing out his reaction, “Beautiful.”

You gently touch the arrow sitting at the base of your neck, feeling the silver against your skin, and you pull at the waistband of Murphy’s jeans with your other hand. You press into him, and he dips his head down to reach your lips, kissing you soft and slow. “It’s lovely, Murph,” you whisper against his mouth. “Thank you.”

He presses his forehead to yours with a deep breath. “I mean it, love. I’ll always protect ye.”

. . .

#fluffy february #fluffy february 2025 #murphy macmanus x reader #boondock saints fanfic #murphy macmanus #the boondock saints #norman reedus #fanfic #waves of stories

34 notes · View notes

yoonjae20 · 17 hours ago

Text

Ric(hard) Fenton; Part 6 of 6

Read on ao3.

Masterpost. Previous

“Ellie didn’t visit while I was gone, right?” Dick questions as they walk into the second basement to free the Amity Park residents that were arrested by the GIW for not complying to a house search or the GIW’s lockdown rules and those who were “too liminal” by the GIW’s standards. The rest stayed behind to wipe the GIW’s database and keep a look on all the agents as well as scientists and guards. The ghosts that were captured had already been released by Sam and Tucker.

Danny shakes his head.

“No, last we heard from her, she was still in Puerto Rico.”

“Who’s Ellie?” Jason questions, trying to think back to the photos in the Fenton home, but he doesn’t remember a 7th person in the group photo.

“My sort-of twin, slash clone,” Danny says and at Jason’s unbelieving look he adds, “It’s complicated.”

Suddenly a girl appears, floating next to them, who looks like Danny’s female version if he had white hair and green exes, startling them all.

“You called?” she says, cheekily.

“How even-“ Danny starts and gets interrupted before he can finish his sentence when the girl sticks a green sticky note with something scribbled on it on his forehead.

Danny takes it, staring at it before he groans.

“Of course,” he grumbles.

“Did you already greet the rest?” Dick asks and Ellie nods before she settles down on the ground and rings travel over her body, turning her hair black and eyes blue.

“Yeah Mom and Dad told me you are down here.”

She turns to Jason with a grin.

“Apparently we also have a new brother.”

“Ellie,” Dick warns, but before he can make a step to stop her, she transforms back and tackles Jason.

To Jason’s surprise his Pit Rage stays quiet and a grin forms on his own face as they ruffle with each other. He ducks under a green blast, actually having fun as he attacks himself. Jason gets lost in the spar and by the time they stop, both panting, Jason notices Danny and Dick are gone.

“Where are Dick and Danny?” Jason asks in between breaths, where he is sitting down on the floor.

“They went to finish breaking out the Amity Pearl residents like ten minutes into our fight.”

She holds out a hand for Jason to grab.

“Good fight.”

Jason grins as he accepts, still slightly surprised at her strong grip as she helps him up without any difficulty.

“You too,” he echoes and finds that he isn’t even lying.

“You finally finished?”

They turn to Dick who has his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised as he takes in their ruffled hair and slightly with soot covered clothes and the new holes in the walls.

Jason rolls his eyes as he straightens his clothes.

“It’s been barely 20 minutes,” he counters.

“It’s been an hour,” Dick corrects with a deadpan look, shaking his head. “We went by you to evacuate the residents and you didn’t even notice.”

Jason gapes as the man turns to Ellie.

“Mr. Lancer says he prepared some homeschooling packets you can work on during the next trip,” Dick says. “I gave him your finished assignments.”

“Thanks,” Ellie chirps.

“How long are you planning on staying?” Dick asks as they walk back up, Jason slightly trailing behind them.

Ellie hums as she raises her arms behind her neck.

“Haven’t decided yet,” she admits. “I do want to see the shit show that’ll happen when Mom and Jazz rip into the Justice League.”

“Wait, what?” Jason questions, but he gets ignored. Jason blows the white lock hanging into his face away, annoyed.

Dick winces, slightly squeezing his eyes together.

“They remembered, didn’t they?”

“Yup,” Ellie says simply, popping the p.

Jason slips between the two, before they can continue their conversation.

“Hello, context please?”

Dick and Ellie exchange a gaze, before the former explains everything that happened with the Justice League and Danny, Sam and Tucker. Jason blinks at the information, once again left reeling, slowly starting to understand why Dick had acted so differently when he returned.

“Danny slightly reversed the spell by showing B his memories,” Dick explains. “Apparently it had the effect that the memories of the people closest to the event will slowly trickle in. Thankfully the general public will still stay unaware of what happened.”

They turn the corner and Jason almost feels like in a fever dream as he takes in the situation. The Fentons — mainly Jazz and Maddie — are berating Bruce as the man is as still as a scolded puppy. It takes all of Jason’s concentration to not break out in laughter once again.

Ellie gestures to the interaction as if to say, “See what I mean?”

Dick shakes his head fondly, before he joins where Danny is standing next to his father chatting with his friends along with Ellie. Jason stays rooted in his place until Jack waves him over with a smile. The man ruffles his hair as soon as he gets close enough.

Yeah, Jason could get used to this.

Danny is snacking on popcorn when Dick joins him after using the zeta tube to get here, both leaning at the wall as they watch their mother and sister annihilate the Justice League with words alone, making them bend to their will to get rid of the GIW and the Ecto Acts as fast as humanly possible.

The Justice League Dark are right behind them, supporting the two women as they glare at the Justice League. Turns out hunting Danny and essentially his fraid for sport could have been seen as a declaration of war on the Infinite Realms considering Danny's status as the savior of the Realms and unofficial prince.

Dick doesn’t think he has seen Clark, Diana and the rest look so chastised before. Whenever one of the Flashes wants to pipe in a new green sticky note appears out of thin air and Jazz reads out Clockwork’s complaints about them messing with time. By now they have shut their mouth, considering the about 20 odd sticky notes gathered on the meeting table.

“You do know that my… other family won’t leave you all alone after this, right?” Dick says as Danny throws popcorn into his mouth. He doesn’t try to stare as he phases his hand back into his chest for another handful. This might be the one thing Dick will never get used to despite being liminal enough himself to develop some of the standard ghost powers.

“Oh yeah,” Danny says easily. “They already don't.”

Dick lets out a sigh — yeah okay, he should have expected it.

“What did they do?” he asks, wearily. He knows he left them alone for a bit to make sure everything in Blüdhaven is still running smoothly before the meeting, but he couldn’t have been gone longer than a few hours. Although by now he should know this is plenty — both for the Bats and Birds and his family.

Danny hums, slightly amused before he starts listing everything.

“Well, firstly Damian challegened Ellie to a duel,” Danny says. “It ended up in a draw and now he practically sticks to her shadow after she told him about all the places she visited and the exotic animals she saw. I’m also still 50/50 about the chances that Ellie will convince the boy to go travel with her around the world.”

Dick shakes his head with a smile. Leave it to Ellie to break through Damian’s serious demeanor so quickly. It will do him good if they stay friends. Maybe her being a free spirit will make it so Damian allows himself to act a little bit more like his age.

“Then Tucker thought it would be funny to try hacking into Batcomputer and now he, Barbara and Tim are challenging each other to see who will be caught first in like their edition of a puzzle game,” Danny adds. “They are sending each other ciphers to crack and what not.”

Dick had always had the feeling that Tucker and Tim as well as Barbara would get along. All of them are a bit of a tech geek. And very competitive. He’ll need to keep a watch on them so they don’t take this too seriously.

“Sam is painting Cass’ and Stephanie’s nails at the moment after they went shopping and Dad is playing video games with Duke. Jason and Alfred are busy in the kitchen,” Danny ends.

Dick huffs out a laugh, not even surprised at the turn of events.

“If someone told me roughly a year ago that this would be my current reality, I don't think I would have believed them.”

Danny grins, soft and relieved and for the first time Dick can see the boy Danny had been before the accident — without the constant responsibility of having to save his home city on his shoulders, of the possibility of dying if he makes a wrong step.

“I know what you mean,” Danny murmurs and for a moment the boy seems far away as he gets lost in his thoughts.

Dick leans against the boy, tucking him into his side to distract him from the memories. Danny practically melts into his touch and a wave of familial affection surges through Dick. He smiles at Danny’s genuine feelings that register to him. Safe, protected, loved.

“Thanks for letting me be your brother,” Dick says genuinely, having to blink back tears.

Danny lets out a wet chuckle, pressing even closer to Dick.

“No take backs anymore, Ric,” Danny teases.

Dick ruffles the boy’s hair with a smile.

“Of course not,” he denies, “I’m not Richard Grayson-Fenton for nothing, after all.”

Dick releases Danny after a few minutes of them soaking in each other’s warmth (or cold in Danny’s case) and steps away from the wall with a grin.

“Ready to save them from Jazz’s and Mom’s wrath?”

Danny chuckles but joins him nevertheless. It’s a feat to see that the boy doesn’t seem afraid of the Justice League anymore.

“I don’t think they will let us.”

“Well at least we can say we tried,” Dick proposes and both of them laugh, walking over to the meeting with bright eyes.

Things may be a lot different than Dick expected more than a year ago, but he can’t say he’s mad about it as Jazz and Maddie pull both of them into a side hug, not stopping in their tirade while they do so. Not at all.

#dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #batfamily #batfam #jason todd #dick grayson #danny fenton #danielle fenton #part 6 #good parents jack and maddie #yoonjae20 #yoonjae20 writing #jazz fenton

24 notes · View notes

shobolanya · 17 hours ago

Text

random hcs i have about the Fëanorians:

♡Fëanor wears guyliner and takes and EXTREME pride in his hair (my favorite drama queen 😌).

♡ Nerdanel has a gorgeous singing voice, but people rarely hear her singing, because she used to sing lullabies to her seven sons and that was the only way they would fall asleep and now she only sings while sculpting.

♡Maedhros likes to feed pigeons (carrier pigeons maybe, if the wild ones don't live in Himring), because he finds their presence and cooing calming.

♡Maglor is basically a disney princess and, like his younger brother, he can talk in song to animals, especially birds. also when he started wandering the shores of Middle-Earth he started growing white and silver strands of hair in his dark locks.

♡Celegorm loved to befriend and adopt all sorts of creatures since he was a child (he's like Newt from Fantastic Beasts), in Valinor he had a garden where all his adopted "pets" come to visit him. he also had a garden like this in Nargothrond, gifted to him by Finrod (the creatures adopted include: a snow leopard, a saber-tooth tiger, a woolly mammoth, a sloth, many opossums, an anaconda, a chameleon, a platypus, a tarantula and a dolphin).

♡Caranthir invented the game of chess in collaboration with a dwarf.

♡Curufin has a tiny black cat (with nine lives ofc) that actually became a friend of Huan.

♡the only ones who never got pranked by Amrod and Amras pretending to be the other were Fëanor, Nerdanel, Finwë, Maedhros, Celegorm , Huan and Finrod.

♡Celebrimbor's favorite uncle to spend time with was Finrod and he learned many things from him, like his kindness and selflessness. he also made Finrod, with Curufin's help, some rings that he always wore.

bonus: not my headcanon, but i saw it on the internet multiple times and i wholeheartedly agree - > Fëanor loves babies and thinks they are the cutest creatures ever (no wonder he has 7 kids)

challenge: spot the Ice Age reference

#thoughts #the silmarillion #feanorians #feanor #nerdanel #maedhros #maglor #celegorm #caranthir #curufin #ambarussa #celebrimbor

24 notes · View notes

misguidedasgardian · 1 day ago

Text

AMOR VINCIT OMNIA PROLOGUE

Summary: The people around you were weaving the threads of your fate, unbeknownst to you

Warnings: Ancient Rome accuracies and inaccuracies, animal slaughter for ritualistic purposes, arranged marriages, age difference (Marcus is late forties reader is 20), cursing, use of historic characters that don’t belong on this timeline, and other sort of inaccuracies (i'm not an historian), other warnings might be added by chapter

Notes: AAAHHHH OK LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTED, This fic is inspired by “Soldier in the armour”, a masterpiece by @stylesispunk

The heat of the sun was unforgiving above Rome, the late summer making the city almost ablaze with its heat.

But to no matter, you fanned yourself as your eyes never left the ceremonial procession

“The Auspices have spoken, this couple, as their union, is blessed by the gods”, spoke the Augur, dressed with his ceremonial tunic, and with his twisted wand on his hand, the crowd cheered. Then, the matron grabbed your very best friend Cecilia’s hand and joined it with the one of the men that was supposed to become her husband. The concordia, their consent of the union

“Ubi tu Gaius, Ego Gaia”, she said nervously. She looked beautiful, you believed, her hair fixed in the traditional roman way, tutulus, hidden under a thin red veil, and she wore a beautiful white dress and golden jewelry. Her husband smiled softly at her, with a devotion in his eyes that made you smile.

You were happy for her, so happy for her.

“Feliciter!”, all the people that were gathered chanted at the same time, wishing the couple good fortune for their marriage

The ceremony was interrupted by the screech of a pig that was being brought forward, you closed your eyes when they slaughtered it, a sacrifice to ask the gods for the couple’s fertility.

“Those might be us, soon enough”, you jumped when Lucius whispered in your ear

“Stop it”, you giggled, as you looked up at his handsome face, but when he returned your stare, your eyes drifted off of him, and found again your friend, who was looking, enamored, at her new husband. He was older than her, a man from an important family, a senator of the Curia, but he had proven to be courteous, and decent, and well… powerful and rich.

And he looked at her as she was the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

Your friend had fallen for him, truly a blessing in an arranged marriage

As the wedding ceremony has ended, people find the time to greet the couple and congratulate them. Also, they dispersed all over your friend’s house, as the banquet was being served and the wine flowed freely.

It was still early in the day, so Lucius invited you to take a stroll through the villa’s gardens. You searched your mother with only your eyes, to find her speaking to General Marcus Acacius at the edge of the Peristylium. So you looked at your companion and nodded at him, accepting his invitation.

As they were more people around you, you didn’t precisely needed an escort, so you walked slowly at the edge of the garden

You had met Lucius as soon as you were introduced to society by your mother, when you started coming with her to these events. Lucius and his father Consus surrounded himself, as did you, with the richest and most important people of Rome

“Do you think your mother would say yes?”, he asked, as happily as you were, “if my father asked her for your hand in marriage to me?”, in his eyes there was hopefulness, that made your chest warm and butterflies fly about in your belly.

“I don’t see why she wouldn't”. you answered with a shy smile. You did not know if you loved him, it was too soon to tell, but still, you found him to be a decent patrician man, handsome and from a good family.

You believed he was the perfect man.

“Your daughter has grown into a beautiful woman”, Marcus admired, as he stood beside Lucilla at the edge of the atrium that led to the garden. He had just returned from his campaigns north to fight against rebellions in Gaul, and he never thought he’d say this, but he was happy to return to Rome, it had been a couple of years away, in campaign, and there had been no glory, no laurels to adorn his head this time.

“She has”, she said, admiring her with a soft smile on her lips, “and you are not the only one who has taken notice”, she murmured with a preoccupied look on her face.

“Who?”, he asked, his face frowning in worry.

“Many”, she said quickly, “I have received many offers for her hand, I have to be thankful, though, that the twins have forgotten their father's pledge to marry her to one of them”, she whispered, when she saw his face, she explained further, “when I agreed to that, I never thought they would grow to become…”, they were alone with nobody around, but still she looked everywhere with distrustful eyes. “what they are”, she finished carefully

“You need to be careful who you select to marry her”, he said softly. He, as Lucilla, knew what was at stake: you might not be in line to the throne as your brother were, but in his absence, your husband, and the children born from you, could perfectly be contenders for the throne of Rome.

“Yes, I know”, she said, “I thought about it, quite a great deal… and.. it must be you”, he thought he didn’t heart her correctly, looking at her, at her face, looking for any signed he had misheard her, “you must marry her, Acacius”, the man’s eyes searched frantically for Lucilla’s eyes, but he found them looking at you, as you were walking along the garden by the side of the son of the richest man in Rome

“She… is young, she could be my daughter”, he said, trying to hide his horror.

“It has to be you”, only then her eyes turned to him, with urgency, “you are the only one I trust”

“It is clear that the son of Craso wants to marry her, we could use the help of the richest man in the Republic, that controls most of the trade routes”, he said solemnly, his eyes finding you again, you were smiling, looking at the handsome, young, man by your side

“That will come after”, she said, “I cannot leave her in the hands of Craso”, she said, “even if I wanted to”, she said lowly, “she is young and innocent, she could be easily manipulated, and we cannot afford that mistake”, she said quickly, “I can talk to Consus Licinius Craso”, she said, “but I cannot let my daughter marry his son Lucius”, she murmured, “they are close to the emperors, and the twins… will never refute her union with you, as they know you are…”, she thought her words carefully, “loyal to them”, she said then, “they need you, you are the most successful general, so they won’t think is strange, they will grant you this honour”, she explained

“But…”

“They are tightening a rope around us, Marcus”, she whispered, interrupting him, “all her tutors, the ones she loved were changed by people from the palace, and they have switched some maids in my own villa, they have their eyes on both of us”, she said softly. “We both need safety, but… I am most concerned for her, for my daughter”, she explained, “that is why it must be you…”

“Will you then, marry Consus?”, he asked, he felt a knot on his throat, at the prospect of both marrying, but not each other.

“I might have to”, she said then, when she looked at him back, she saw sorrow in his eyes.

“Lucilla, I…”, she shushed him, sharing significant looks amongst themselves

“I know Marcus”, she whispered, “but she is my daughter”, she said then, “she is an innocent, and dark times are coming, for the dream of Rome, we have to protect her”, she grabbed his hand then, “I only trust you, please, do this for me”, she begged him. He was going to protest, he was going to say they could figure something else out, but they were interrupted

“Lucilla dear”, someone demanded her attention, drawing Lucilla away from his side, he followed her with a tormented gaze, but then he turned to you, even more tormented

You had seemed to look for your mother too, finding him instead. You only smiled at him shyly, at the other side of the garden in front of him, he only nodded back.

If he could turn beasts to soldiers, soldiers to generals, and generals to consuls. He should be able to put his feelings under his arm, and to marry another.

If he could conquer cities and empires to the glory of Rome, he should be able to marry you, the delicate, beautiful daughter of the… of the… of the woman he loved, the grand daughter of Marcus Aurelius

As a seasoned general, he was used to following orders and then commanding them; he should have no trouble being married to a young woman, who knew little of a married life, who knew little of life and expectations.

And as Marcus Acacius, he should be able to protect you, he should be able to keep you safe, of the political intrigues, of the treasons, of the ones who are hungry for power and would want to use you for their benefit.

You were now his mission, a city who could fall into enemies hands, he needed to protect it, to defend it from anyone.

Yes, he could do it, he thought, he’d do it for her, he’ll protect you.

You just stood there, engaging in conversation with Cecilia, her new husband, and Lucius, not knowing that the person you loved the most, was sealing your fate with a union of marriage.

AAAHHHH hoped you like it! chapter one coming soon 💕

MASTERLIST

#misguidedamor #marcus acacius #general acacius #general marcus acacius #gladiator ll #gladiator 2

47 notes · View notes

itsbells · 3 days ago

Note

Can we get a hotel room smut, after a chargers away game?

Apologies for requesting filth, but you’re very good at writing!!

omg neverr apologize! trust, i get it 😉 & thank you so much! i try my best 😮‍💨

(thank you to everyone that submitted their votes!)

the dress.

(justin herbert x madison beer) 2 povs

warnings: smut, 18+

౨ৎ⋆ 🍒｡⋆𐙚⋆🍓.˚₊⊹♡enjoy ౨ৎ⋆ 🍒｡⋆𐙚⋆🍓.˚₊⊹♡

madison’s pov

i looked at myself in the mirror feeling very content with my outfit choice for tonight’s game. i was wearing a short white flowy dress i recently thrifted with a chargers leather jacket that has the number 10 on the back, along with my sambas. i sprayed my perfume and started getting my bag ready to go, when i heard a knock on the door. i walked towards it and opened it revealing a very excited ama. ama is one of my best friends that i’ve known for years, her and i have always loved going to sports games way before i met justin so when i asked her if she wanted to go come to justin’s away game against the panthers, she was more than happy to join. unfortunately justin’s parents weren’t able to attend today’s game but i was still going to be accompanied by his brothers and a few other friends.

“hey babesss you ready to go?” she asked smiling and doing a little wiggle dance. i let out a small laugh, “yesss let me just get my bag then we can head out.” i said turning around to grab my bag that was sitting on the bed. “alright let’s go!” i said linking our arms together as we walked outside the room and headed towards the elevator. “girl, i know this is random but sometimes i still can’t believe you’re dating a football player. wait no i’ll do you one better, a quarterback!” ama said as we stepped into the elevator. i laughed and pressed on the lobby button before turning towards her, “why? what do you mean?” i asked with a smile. she shrugged her shoulders and looked around the elevator, “i don’t know like, we went to just going to games for fun to like actually going because your MAN is playing. it’s just crazy to think about.” she said with wide eyes enhancing the word ‘man’ as she spoke. i laughed and shock my head. “and now you’re traveling even more! like ugh, you’re living the life.” she finished. “yeah it is a little crazy and different but it makes the games even more interesting.” i said to her. “very much.” she said puckering her lips pointing at me causing me to laugh again. still with our arms linked, we walked to the front lobby doors and made our way inside the car that was waiting for us at the front of the hotel. once we were situated in the car, ama said, “oh also i’ve been texting rachel and she said she’s already there with jacob”, while looking down at her phone. “awesome!” i said then went on my phone to text justin, ‘on my way to you ;)’ i sent. a few minutes later he texted back, ‘can’t wait, meet me at the locker room baby’, i smiled to myself and hearted his message. even though we briefly saw each other before he left this morning, i couldn’t help but feel excited to see him again. before we flew out to north carolina, justin got a haircut and boy let me tell you. that man looks so good. i mean i love his long hair.. like i love it. but there’s something about short haired justin that gets me going..

when we got to the stadium, i told ama that i’d meet her at our suite in a few minutes so that i can go see justin. she gave me a wink, “oh okayyy madisonn.” she said teasingly before turning around and made her way to our suite with everyone else. i shook my head at her comment and made my way towards the locker room.

when i reached the locker room, i was greeted right away by some of guys, “hey, maddy! so glad you could make it!” simi said greeting me with a side hug. “of course, i wouldn’t miss it! how are we feeling? ready to win?” i asked with a smile. “oh hell yeah! you already know the deal, we’re always ready to bring home another dub.” he said with a huge smile. as i was about to answer i heard, “hey, baby.” someone said from behind me. i felt a large hand on lower back, i turned around to see justin. i smiled bigger and gave him a quick kiss, “hi, handsome.” i greeted him. he smirked at me before grabbing my hand and pulled me to his locker area, unintentionally dismissing simi, whom i was having a conversation with. i saw khalil and derwin on our short walk to his locker. i gave them a smile and a wave, they did the same before i turned to look ahead. when we made it to his locker, justin looked behind me, and made what looked like a signal to someone. soon after he did, the guys started spilling out the door. i furrowed my eyebrows confusedly, hearing a bunch of commotion from the guys leaving the room and looked behind me. “see you out there j, you too maddy!” simi yelled out. i gave him a wave, justin gave him a salute before sitting down on the bench infront of his locker and pulled me toward him so i was standing in between his legs.

“you know usually you don’t bring me back here, because in your words ‘i’m a distraction’” i said in air quotes. “what makes this time different?” i asked placing my hands on his shoulder pads. he held me in place by keeping his large hands on my hips, “i just really needed to see you.” he said smiling at me. “we didn’t get much time with each other this morning and i needed a little motivation before tonight’s game.” he said softly. “oh now i give you motivation?” i smirked at him. “mhm, a lot of motivation” he said now looking up and down at me. “i like this.” he said moving one of his hands from my hips to touch the hem of my dress then dragging his large hand on my thigh. “you look very pretty, baby.” he said in a soft yet deep voice. lord this man. “yeah? you think so?” i asked him softly. “mhmm” he hummed. i removed my hands from his shoulders and placed them on top of his large hands, rubbing them softly before teasingly moving my dress up but then back down. “it’s not too short?” i asked. he looked back up at my face. “you’re a tease you know that?” he said squeezing my thighs before going under my dress and squeezing my butt making me squeal. “stop it! clearly you’re the tease.” i said laughing and stepping away from his embrace. he removed his hands from my hips, but quickly held my hands in his. he let out a laugh and stood up, making me look up at him. “you started it.” he said, keeping our hands interlocked, pinning them behind my back. i scoffed at him. “me?” i raised my eyebrows. “you are the one that started looking at me with those bedroom eyes and touching all up on me.” i said smiling. he raised his eyebrows. “bedroom eyes? i don’t know what are you talking about, madison.” he said looking away from me smiling. “you know exactly what i’m talking about, justin.” i told him. he looked back down at me, “whatever.” then leaned down giving me a kiss. thinking it was a quick peck, i started to pull away but he stopped me by letting go of my hands and wrapping his large arms around my waist, pulling me back in. i smiled into our kiss and wrapped my arms around his neck. our supposed small kiss, turning into a mini make out session, after a couple minutes i pulled back a little, “baby you have a game today, remember?” i said against his lips. he slightly opened his eyes a bit, “mhmm. just a little more.” he said closing his eyes again and leaning back in. as we continued kissing, i felt him move one of his hands down to my butt squeezing it and pulling me even closer, if that was even possible.

i pulled away before things got more intense, “alright, quarterback. don’t get too carried away, the team needs you.” i said letting out a breath and biting my lip as i patted his protected chest. he pulled away and smirked bringing one of his hands up and tugged at his bottom lip, sizing me up like he was making plans on what to do with me later. “thank you for the motivation, baby.” he turned around to grab his helmet. “let’s go. we’ll finish this at the hotel.” he said slapping my butt lightly before grabbing my hand and walking us out the locker room. “and you say i’m a tease.” i said in a whisper, making him laugh.

everyone in our suite were standing up cheering, watching as justin started running with the ball. we were now at the second quarter of the game, 6-20 with us leading. let me just say justin looks very fired up right now, in a good way. from the start of the game he seemed so ready to start this game, guess i did give him a little motivation.. “justin’s playing nasty today!” i heard patrick yell out from my side. i laughed, “hell yeah!” mitch chimed in. “hmm wonder why.” ama said side eyeing me. i scoff and shook my head, secretly biting my lip remembering our moment before the game.

i was knocked out of my day dream by everyone cheering. i turned my attention back to the game and started cheering with everyone as justin was running with the ball once again, getting stopped close to the 6-yard line. quickly after getting back in formation, he threw the ball to johnston scoring another touchdown. we all started cheering again, “oh he’s a fucking beast.” our friend jacob said. patrick turned around and they did they’re handshake, as ama and rachel hugged me and we all started jumping in excitement. by the end of the second quarter we were 6-27 with us still leading.

we finished the game at 7-40 chargers winning, of course. we were all so pumped from how good the game went and ended. looking down i see justin look up at our suite yelling and pumping his fist up and down, i smiled at him and clapped my hands. i saw him smile back and pointed towards the back signaling that he wanted us to meet him out back.

as we made it outside the locker rooms everyone was so happy with the outcome of the game. we all started talking about how good justin performance was. until i heard jacob yell, “yeah 10!” then, “okay 10!” i heard justin’s brothers and other friends yell out as they saw justin down the hall. he started running up to all of us and greeted everyone, leaving me to be the last. i smiled up at him with my nose scrunched up and patted his shoulder pads with my hands, “good job, quarterback.” i said to him. he gave me a quick kiss, not wanting to show too much PDA. “that’s all thanks to you.” he whispered before turning his attention back to everyone. “good as fucking game, man. you were crazy out there!” mitch said hitting justin’s shoulder pad. justin blushed a little and shook his head. “nahh. stop it.” he said. “no seriously. you played like crazy today. dad even texted us asking what you ate this morning, because you were doing so fired up today!” patrick said making us all laugh. justin lightly bumped into me making look at him. he smirked at me, making blush slightly and quickly look down at my feet, not wanting anyone to notice my rosy cheeks. i felt him leaned down to my ear. “wait for me in the hotel room, yeah? i’m going to take a while here and don’t want to keep you waiting.” he whispered. “much rather have you relaxed at the hotel for me, hmm?” he added. i nodded with a shy smile, feeling a wave of heat running through my body. he winked at me before turning around to the guys to say his goodbyes as he had to go to hit the showers before his press conference.

as i was waiting for justin to get back to the hotel room, i laid in bed going through my phone. when i scrolling through my instagram, i heard a beep and the door handle turn, revealing a very tired yet hot looking, justin. he smirked right away looking at me as laid on the bed in only my dress now.

“hello, handsome.” i greeted him putting my phone down on the nightstand. as justin closed the door, he set his bag down by the door and took off his shoes before he started making his way towards me. “well hello to you, my lucky charm.” he smiled and leaned down to give me a quick peck on my lips. he started to pull away but i quickly put my hand on the back of his neck and brought him back down, wanting nothing more but to continue what we started back at the locker room. he smiled against my lips as we continued kissing each other. he placed his large hand on my waist and started moving it down to my hip. then slowly started moving his hand under my dress. i moved my free hand to his strong arm, feeling as he flexed it under my touch.

after a little while, justin pulled away so we can catch our breath, letting our foreheads touch. “i really like this dress, baby.” he said looking down then back up to my eyes. “yeah? maybe i should wear it more often then.” i said squeezing his bicep. “mhm, but only for me.” he said pulling away to stand straight up, moving his hand down my exposed thigh then back up moving my dress higher. one of my hands reached up and held his free hand, my other hand laid on top of one of my dress straps, feeling anxious of what’s to come next. “i wanted to thank you for tonight.” he said continuing his movements, each time moving my dress higher and higher. “for what?” i asked. his eyes moving from the lower half of my body to my eyes, seeing as they turned into a dark shade of green. “just..” he looked down again. “for being here with me and..” he moved his large hand up from my thigh to my hip then to my waist giving it a squeeze. “for supporting me and..” he leaned down to my lips, giving me a kiss. “giving me motivation whenever i need it.” another kiss. “rather that’s giving me a pep talk..” he hovered over me with my legs naturally moving in between him, giving me another kiss. “or just being in my presence” another kiss. “and giving me what i want.” his hands started roaming all over my body and my hands roaming over his large arms. “you know, you deserve to be rewarded.” a placed kiss on my cheek this time. “you’ve been working so hard..” he placed a kiss on my jaw, then my neck, down to my chest. “justin.” i breathed out as he started kissing further down my chest with his beard rubbing against my skin making me shiver. i then felt one of his hands reach up to move one of the straps from my dress off my shoulder. “hmm?” he hummed looking up at me, still giving me small pecks along my chest. “tell me what you want, baby. it’s your night for being so good to me.” he told me, moving back up so his face is directly in front of mine. “it’s your winning night, you should be rewarded.” i said moving my hands up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss him. he kissed me back before pulling away. he shook his head, “i won, thanks to you.” he moved back, sitting on his knees in between my legs. my dress was pulled up at this point, revealing my panties. he moved his large hands along my legs, rubbing them softly. “so, tell me what you want baby.” he said placing a kiss on my inner thigh, making me shiver again. i leaned up on my elbows, “i want you, to do whatever you want with me.” i said to him. he smirked, “are you sure?” he asked giving me a teasing kiss on my lips. i bit my lip and nodded. that was enough for him to smash his lips on mine again. our lips moving in sync, i felt him bring his tongue to my bottom lip, i opened my mouth slightly just enough for him to slip his tongue inside my mouth. i moaned in our kiss feeling his hands pushing my dresses higher, exposing my stomach. he broke our heated kiss bringing his lips down to my jaw, to my neck, to my chest pulling down my other dress strap revealing my breast. he took one of them in his mouth while he caressed the other one with his large hand. “hmm, justin.” i moaned as my hands started running through his short hair, slightly pulling it making him groan against my chest.

i was about to remove my dress fully until justin stopped me, “no, keep it on.” he said, grabbing a hold of my hands and putting them behind his neck, i obeyed his orders. we continued kissing when i felt him reach down my body to my panties, rubbing my clothed heat making me moan against his lips. he then broke our kiss and leaned back before hooking his large fingers around the waistband of my panties and pulled them down. i lifted my hips and legs to help make it easier to take them off, he placed a kiss on my legs before getting off the bed and started pulling off his shirt. i looked up at him and smirked, giving the biggest doe eyes i know he loves best. he looked at me in awe, as he started to remove his sweatpants. i couldn’t help but start running my hands throughout my body, missing his touch. opening my legs wider making him have a perfect view of my heat. moving my hands to my breast, down to my inner thighs. he stood there, looking like he was enjoying every second of it. i leaned up and started running my hands over his upper body, admiring him, feeling as he flexed wherever my hands went. he let me have my fun for a minute before leaning down to me, giving a rough kiss then leaned back a bit breaking our kiss, “get on all fours for me, baby.” he said, giving me one more rough kiss before standing up to give me room to move. i bit my lip trying to hide my smile, he knew i enjoyed when he got very dominant in bed, i knew he did too. it’s always the quiet ones that are the most kinkiest, i learned that quick when justin and i started becoming intimate with each other.

i turned myself around, placing my hands and knees on the bed to stand myself up. justin had yet to touch me again so i started to getting impatient. i moved my hips back making contact with justin’s hard on poking through his boxers making me gasp. he let out a deep chuckle before i felt his large hands on my hips, giving me a squeeze before lightly slapping my butt, making me gasp again at the unexpected contact. “fuck, you look so good, madison.” he said, rubbing where previously slapped. i hummed, leaning down moving my hands higher above my head, placing my cheek on the bed, arching my back and opened my legs more. still feeling impatient from his lack of movements i started wiggling my hips. he let out a small deep laugh, then i felt his long fingers rub my slit, causing me to moan. “so wet for me, baby.” he kept rubbing me. i then heard him shuffling around, continuing his movements but then i felt him replace his fingers with his thick member, mimicking his movements. i squealed at the contact, “fuck, stop teasing.” i whined looking back at him, moving a hand back reaching for his hips trying to push him towards me. “okay, baby. okay, i’ll give you what you want.” he said. he placed a kiss on my hip before positioning himself and slowly inserting his cock into me.

justin’s pov

“oh god.” madison moaned as i fully inserted myself in her sweet cunt. i let out a deep moan, feeling how much i filled her up. i let her adjust herself a little before i started to thrust into her. looking down at how she sucked me in and out so perfectly like our bodies were made for each other. i started thrusting harder into her, she became a moaning mess. “fuck, you fit me so well, baby.” i moaned leaning over her small figure, placing a kiss on her upper back. she looked back and smiled lightly, then biting her bottom lip. “you feel so good, justin.” she moaned then leaned her head down onto the bed, opening up her legs more to give me more access. i leaned back up, “yeah baby?” i said to her, thrusting harder but slower, letting my cock almost come all the way out before thrusting it back in. knowing how much it drove her crazy when i did that, she moaned louder as started to quicken my pace again. moving one of my hands from her hips under her stomach to bring her up against me. “come here, baby.” i said to her as she stood on her knees with her back against my chest, her dress dangerously hanging around her waist. she turned her head to look up me and smiled, her eyes a dark shade of hazel. i smirked down at her, moving my hand that was previously on her stomach and placed it on her jaw then leaned down to kiss her. “you like the way my cock fills you up? hm?” i asked against her lips. she nodded, unable to speak as i was still thrusting into her, she moaned into our kiss and moved one her hands behind my neck, keeping me in place and her other hand grabbing ahold of my other hand that was on her hip, to help herself keep her balance.

she broke our kiss and said, “i’m gonna cum, justin.” looking into my eyes. i gave her another kiss, “cum for me.” i said encouraging her. she let go of my neck and laid her head back down on the bed, signaling she wanted me to finish her off. so i started thrusting harder into her, feeling myself starting to reach my climax too, as she started clenching around me. “fuck, i’m not going to last long f’you keep clenching me like that, babe.” i told her, gripping her hips harder. she let out a soft laugh and turned her head to look back at me. “maybe i don’t want you too.” i don’t know what came over me, maybe it’s was the way she looked back at me, looking so beautiful with her hair all over the place, her lipstick almost completely off from kissing her so much and her mascara smeared. i pushed her head lightly back down on the bed, my hand holding the back of her neck keeping her down, and my other hand gripping her hip harder, knowing it’ll leave marks later. i started slamming into her making her moan louder, “fuuuck, juustin!” a couple more thrust and it didn’t take long for both of us to reach our highs together. madison’s legs started shaking from now intensely she started cumming, my hips still thrusting but slower this time. “oh my god.” she moaned. i let out a satisfied sigh, as i came down from my high. i stopped thrusting into her and slowly pulled out, making her wince. usually i wait for her to fully calm down from such an intense orgasm, but tonight was different.

madison’s pov

as i was still breathing heavily from my orgasm, my legs still trembling slightly. justin all of a sudden turned me over so i was laying on my back and got on his knees in front of me. he wasted no time kissing down my leg feeling as his beard tickling my inner thighs making me giggle. “j-justin.” i bit my lip, he made eye contact with me signaling he wasn’t done with me just yet, shortly after he dived in between my legs. i let out a gasp, my hands gripping and tugging at his hair again. “oh fuck, baby.” i moaned. i used one of my elbows to bring myself up to get a better look at him, watching him as he was eating me out like his life depended on it. he had his eyes closed now, yet he looked so focused on what he was doing. “oh- justin.” i moaned again. feeling my legs shaking more, as i felt another orgasm creeping up. he opened his eyes again, making eye contact with me, i felt him smile against my cunt. and there it is. the satisfaction in his eyes i know too well. i knew i was in for trouble when i told him i wanted him to do whatever he wanted, but who’s to say that i wasn’t enjoining it as much as he was? i couldn’t help but smirk at him then tilted my head back with my eyes rolling back, laying back down on the bed arching my back feeling my second orgasm rush over me. my mouth opened but nothing came out but gasps of air. my legs flexing closed around justin’s head, he let me do so as he let go of my thighs, moving them to grip my breast and my hands tugging at his hair. “f-fuuck” i finally let out. his tongue capturing every drop of my cum. “mmhm” he hummed into my sensitive heat, making legs shake more feeling the vibration.

when he finished, he slowly kissed my body all the way up to my face, “you okay, baby?” he said placing a kiss on my cheek. i nodded, still trying to catch my breath. i looked at him making eye contact, then we both smiled tiredly. “what’s gotten into you?” i asked curiously. justin gets aggressive in bed, like i said it’s always the quiet ones that are the kinkiest but this certainly the most he’s let loose in bed. he smirked and pulled at my dress that was surprisingly still wrapped around my waist, all crinkled up at this point. “this dress, baby.” he said shaking his head. “i told you i liked it, didn’t i?” he added. i smirked at him and pulled him down by his neck and kissed his now swollen lips. “why was it too much? did i hurt you?” he said with his eyes filled with worry now. there he is. my sweet sweet man. “did i get too carried away? you should’ve told me to stop, baby.” i giggled at how much he got concerned, loving him even more for it. “no no, baby. i’m okay, i’m just asking so i know how to unleash this aggressive side of you next time.” i teased. he laughed and hid his face in the crock of my neck. he came back and looked into my eyes, “oh, baby. you have no idea.” he smirked giving me a quick kiss before picking me up, carrying me to the bathroom. “c’mon, since you want to be funny, i’m not down with you yet.” he said making me squeal in excitement.

let’s just say we almost missed our flight back home, because we had a looong night.. and i’m also getting the same dress in 5 different colors now..

౨ৎ⋆ 🍒｡⋆𐙚⋆🍓.˚₊⊹♡the end ౨ৎ⋆ 🍒｡⋆𐙚⋆🍓.˚₊⊹♡

#justin herbert imagines #madison beer imagines #justin herbert fanfic #madison beer fanfic #justin herbert fanfiction #madison beer fanfiction #justin herbert imagine #madison beer imagine #justinherbert x madisonbeer #justin herbert smut #madison beer smut #justin herbert x reader #madison beer x reader #justin herbert #madison beer

29 notes · View notes

ashblooddragons · 7 hours ago

Text

The Red Queen (Chapter 17/?)

Series Masterlist

116 ac

Daemons pov

I storm into my tent after beating that messenger.

My brother thinks he can kick me out of his court, and as soon as glory is on the horizon take what I earned? My glory? No, I'll make a fool of him. I think as I throw my helmet onto my bed where a little squeak comes.

I turn to see the whore I brought to my bed last night still there. She isn't what I usually go for with her freckled skin and flaming orange hair. But when you're on a battlefield you don't get too choosy with a willing cunt.

“What are you still doing here?” I ask in an annoyed tone which makes her eyes go big.

“I-I was asleep.” She says quickly as she reaches for her loose fitting linen dress.

I take in the style of dress and remember she isn't a whore but one of the lords personal maids.

Same difference. I think as I turn away from her as she continues to apologize and clumsily puts her clothes back on.

“Just go, I don't have time for this.” I hiss which makes her quickly scurry out of the tent with one final sorry leaving her lips.

I look down at my battle plan and sigh in defeat.

It truly is a suicide mission.

I sit there for a while calculating what needs to be done and what doesn't when someone calls for me from outside my tent.

“A letter for you, my Prince.” The boy says and I can't help but roll my eyes.

“Yes I am well aware.” I respond in a tone I know has this boy shaking in his little boots.

But strangely he stays. “I think you'll want to see this one, my Prince. It's from the Princess.”

I freeze, turning to look back at the boy who holds a scroll.

“Which one?” I ask even though I already know.

“Only one of them sends you letters regularly at that.” He says holding it out for me.

I snatch it from him waving him away as I look down at the seal.

It's yours. You had gotten a wax seal at some point, most likely because my brother was tired of you asking to use his. It's the Targaryen symbol, but you never use red or black, always pink or purple, sometimes even white.

Never did like our harsh colors. I think with a smile as I move over to my desk, setting your letter down.

I then sit down and open a drawer where I keep each and every one of your letters. They are one of the only things that keep me going, but also one of the things that gives me the most grief. For with each letter I see you grow, mature, but I can't see you do it, only through your words.

I grab your first letter quickly, it's so worn down from how often I open and close it but I don't care. It's important.

I open it with care making sure the now flimsy paper doesn't tear and read your scribbled words.

Dear Kepus

I miss you. A lot. Papa doesn't talk to me anymore, not even at super. Nyra says mean things. Like how I'm not needed here. Why doesn't she love me? Did I do something bad? Why did Papa make you leave? Why won't you come back? I have so many questions but no one wants to answer them.

Papa says I'm gonna be heir. That it's important that I am. But I don't want to be heir. I want to be me.

I miss you. Please write back soon.

I always have to push back tears when I read this. You were so young, so confused. But it also always brings a smile to my face seeing your scribbled writing and the random drops of ink as you learned how to use a quill.

I reach for another letter, one that always seems to make my blood boil.

Dear Kepus

Aegon's one today, he's adorable. Papa has a large feast planned to celebrate him. There will be jesters, actors, and some people called acrobats. It's suppose to be lots of fun.

I requested a new dress for it, Papa said yes. But I'm confused, all the fabrics are red or black. I had asked for a pink or purple dress. When I asked Papa he said I have to wear our house colors now. So I make us look strong and united. I'm not sure how a dress will do this but he seems sure it will.

What do you think? Is a red dress really going to change so much over a purple one?

I know you don't like me asking, but I need to know. How is the war going? Are you alright? You're not hurt or injured are you? I'm so worried about you I have a hard time sleeping, especially when Papa’s council talks about how horrible it's going.

Please say you're alright. And tell the truth this time, because I know your shoulder got hurt. Papa got a letter from Lord Corlys, Laena’s Papa. It said your chest was burned, bad. That you almost died because of the injury. So no lying, didn't anyone teach you that's rude?

I miss you, please write soon.

I sigh when I finish the letter. I always felt like this was the beginning of Viserys' changes of you. It didn't take long for that day on for you to always get a new red dress. It broke my heart because though I always thought red was your color you never cared for it much. Preferring pink, purple, blue, even yellow over our house colors.

He's trying to make you into what he wants you to be, and it infuriates me. But what kills me is that you know of my pain. I swore I would come back, I could only imagine the fear you felt in that moment. Perhaps even the betrayal.

And with that thought I break the wax seal and slowly open your latest letter.

Dear Kepus

I'm ten now, and there was a huge celebration. I got to wear a white dress with red Myrish lace. Ali said I looked ethereal and Father said I looked lovely. There were a lot of people there, most I didn't know but they said nice things and gave gifts. But sadly I didn't get the one I wanted. My book about Daenys is falling apart. The maesters say I should just get a new one. But I don't know where you got this one, and neither does Father. He says I don't need the pictures but I love them. Do you think you could tell me where you got the book? I just want to read my favorite story again.

Aegon is three, he's always running. Father says that's because he's a boy, but I think it's just because he's Aegon. He's been sad though, his egg hasn't hatched. Rhaenyra gave it from Syrax's clutch but for some reason it just won't hatch. Maybe when you get back you can look at it and see why.

Have I told you about Helaena? She's so cute! She has chubby cheeks, silver hair, and violet eyes. They look so different compared to Aegon's periwinkle ones. She likes quiet though, and Aegon likes to be loud. So she gets startled a lot, but we're trying to explain that he needs to be calmer around Helaena. It's a slow process though because so used to being as loud as he wants. It's a big change for him.

Stormchaser laid another clutch, but they were all stone again. I don't know why, when she and Caraxes were together they were all perfect. But now they are all stone and she's so sad. It hurts seeing her so sad without Caraxes.

One last thing, Father wants to reinstate me as heir. But he wants you here when he does it. So he said he's bringing tropes to help you. Be nice to them, they're just trying to help.

I miss you, come home soon.

I sigh and look down thinking over each word. I can't help but chuckle about your book. You had always loved Daenys, if people thought Rhaenyra loved Visenya they haven't seen nor heard you talk about Daenys the Dreamer.

She is your idol, in your words. She saved us so we can be here today. I can't remember how many spats you and Rhaenyra have had over who was more important in the Targaryen family. But at the end of the day, I have to agree with you. If it weren't for Daenys our house would be ash in the wind never to be heard of again like so many other Valyrian houses.

But something I've noticed is how in each letter since you've gotten your younger siblings, you always want to talk about them. You truly are just an excited big sister wanting to show off her younger siblings.

Though the thing that hurts most is watching you grow only through your writing. How things used to be so misspelled and scratchy upon the paper is now refined and perfectly spelled. It hurts not knowing how you look now and only having the frail little girl who screamed for me to come back to remember as my last memory of your face.

But three things stuck out to me, your dragon hasn't been laying viable eggs ever since I and Caraxes left. And then there is the fact your Father is trying to use you to make me behave. And sadly it's working But the thing that sticks out the most is your last line.

I miss you, come home soon.

You have never sent this, it was always write soon, never come home. And for some reason, that one line makes me stand up and look at the battle plan one last time.

It isn't the worst plan I've seen. I think before walking out of my tent towards Lord Corlys to get our troops moving to their correct places.

Your pov

I sit on the settee holding Helaena. She looks adorable with her chubby cheeks and dark violet eyes that almost look like wine.

“She's so quiet. I thought she would do more.” Aegon says from beside me. He looks down at her with curiosity and apprehension because when he plays she usually starts crying.

I turn to look at him as he assesses Helaena with a wary look.

“You were like this, you just screamed more.” I tease which makes him gasp with his eyes wide and a scowl on his lips making it very clear his dislike of my words.

“I did not!” He yells but thankfully it doesn't startle Helaena this time.

“Well do you remember what you were like, my Love?” Ali asks from her spot in front of her vanity. Her maids braid her hair in intricate designs.

Something fit for a Queen. The words Father always says each time he watches my maids braid mine. He says they have to look perfect or else it will give or house judgment. I'm not sure how hair or dresses changes so much in the way the court looks at our house but Father is insistent.

“Well, no, but I don't scream.” Aegon says animatedly. This time a whimper comes from Helaena at his raised voice.

“Of course you don't.” Ali says with a teasing grin before standing up and walking towards us. She takes one look at Helaena's scrunched up face and reaches down to pick her up. “And what have I said about keeping your voice down while Helaena sleeps?”

Aegon looks down at the gentle reminder. “To try and be calm. Sorry Mama, I really am trying.” He says as his lower lip wobbles.

“I know you are, and you're doing so well. I know it's hard to real in all your joy.” She says as she strokes her fingers through his hair calming him down.

He looks up with a pout while nodding his head. “Yeah.” Is all he says as he leans into Ali's touch.

I look up at her taking in her dress that is black with a red bodice and long red sleeves. She looks beautiful in it, but it doesn't feel like it was made for her.

I then look down at my dress that is a deep scarlet with gold embroidery of flowers along the sleeves and bodice. It's also a very beautiful dress, but just like Ali's it just isn't me.

“Your sister sent a raven, she says there has yet to be a match made and that she is…enjoying this trip. She should be at Storms End now as we speak.” Ali says and I can tell she changed a lot of words from what Rhaenyra actually sent.

“I'm glad she's enjoying it.” Is all I say before turning to look at the books I need to study.

Can't hold Helaena forever, you have to get this done. I think before picking up the book on how to sit on the throne properly. I never realized there were so many ways to do this wrong, but supposedly Maester Huebert does.

“Has your Uncle sent anything back yet?” Ali says as she tries and calms Helaena down after a maid accidentally dropped a chamber pot. Thankfully it was clean.

“No, not yet, though it usually takes a bit because of the war.” I say with a frown. It's been two weeks since I sent my raven. I know I should be patient but the last time he took this long he got hurt. And some part of me worries if he is even alive.

No you would know if he died, you would know. I think with urgency hoping to throw that awful thought out of my mind for good.

Just as I think this a resounding screech reaches my ears.

I know that sounds. I think clambering towards the window to see if my kind is playing tricks on me or not.

“What's that long red thing?” I hear Aegon say and I know that what I'm seeing is true.

“He's back.” I whisper to myself before turning to Ali who whispers to her maids.

“I am needed in the throne room, you three stay here. Though your Father may wish for you to come as well but as of now stay here and watch after your siblings and study.” She says before walking out of her chambers.

I have to force myself to not run after her. Because I know why she made me stay. Just because Caraxes is back, doesn't mean Kepus is. And she doesn't want me to get hurt hoping he's back.

So instead I turn towards Aegon who stares at the door confused and hold a hand out for him.

“Why don't you practice your letters while I study? It could be fun.” I suggest and I can tell he doesn't like the idea but he nods anyways taking my hand as we walk back to the settee.

Please be back, please be alive. I pray hoping that whatever gods are out there hear me and make my prayers come true.

I feel tense as I walk towards the royal gardens. I can't help but try and remember what he looked like but all I get is hazy images and it hurts not knowing what he looked like. I dare not even try and remember what Mama looked like, for I know it will only shatter my heart completely.

I look down at my bracelet taking in the pearls and rubies. I then fiddle with my necklace trying to see if these items will make any memories of his face rise up. But it is futile, it's been too long since I've seen his face to know exactly what he looked like.

So instead I decide to stand straight and walk into the gardens as was my Father's request.

When I do I notice all the Lords and Ladies whispering and glancing towards Ali, Father, someone who I know has to be Rhaenyra but that can't be right because she's supposed to be at Storms End, and a man who in the deepest parts of my soul I know is my Kepus.

I don't hesitate to walk towards them, only catching the end of Father's jest.

“You were always Mother’s favorite, she was wild and free and sadly I was no great warrior.”

I go to speak but Rhaenyra beats me to it.

“It's wonderful to see you Uncle.”

I frown at the way she looks at him, the way her eyes flutter and she gently bites her lip before releasing it.

I may be young but I know she is trying to flirt or seduce Kepus. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out. But what I also notice is how tense the atmosphere becomes with just those simple words.

She wasn't supposed to be back, Father must be livid. I think, eyeing him and quickly notice the scowl that overtakes his usually calm and collected features.

“Thank you Niece.” He says with a tight smile before he turns and looks down at me.

I freeze, not sure how to start the conversation. It's been so long that I have only been able to hear his words through ravens that now that I may actually talk to him the words are missing.

“Would you like to see the tapestries? We have just received some from Myr.” Ali says with a pinched smile obviously not liking how much wine Father has drunk already.

I smile excited to show him my favorites when Father bursts out laughing.

“Would you like to see them? Would you?” He asks in an obvious jesting tone. “He has no interest in such things.” He says with a dismissive wave.

“I would like to see them.” Rhaenyra says out of nowhere staring at Father with that look that usually means she wants to start an argument.

“Oh well then deprive yourself.” Father says waving her off.

I've never seen nor heard him speak to Rhaenyra like this so I'm shocked, frozen in place hoping if I do not speak or move I will not be the object of their wrath next.

Thankfully Rhaenyra walks away with a huff sitting on a bench as she inspects her nails.

“Do not worry, your Father is only a bit…disoriented. He does not mean his harsh words.” Ali says, noticing my tense shoulders before she decides to walk over to Rhaenyra.

And once I'm alone between my obviously drunk Father, and my Kepus who I haven't spoken to in years. Well it is an easy choice to try and find Laena and Nymeria.

So with a quick curtsy I turn and walk towards the food table where Laena and Nymeria seem to be bickering.

“Lemon cake is obviously the better choice.” Nymeria says before biting into one with a triumphant smirk.

“Please, raspberry crumble is the best.” Laena responds before taking a bite of her sweet treat.

I watch them stare each other down before clearing my throat and making them gasp and turn to face me before they quickly relax.

“Which do you think is better!” They say at the same time only ti turn to the other and glare once more.

I stop for a second before moving forward and picking up a honey cake.

“I much prefer the honey cakes.” I say, eyeing them as I take a bite letting the sweet flavor of honey and sugar fill my pallet. “Maybe instead of fighting over which is the best, we all just agree we like different things?” I suggest which seems to work until Nymeria whispers to herself and the argument starts up again.

I look down and sigh in annoyance, this is not what I was hoping for when I wanted to escape the tension of my family.

So just as quickly as I sought them out, I walked away for some solitude. Though I never am truly alone, for the clank of armor follows after me and I know who it is.

I take a seat on a bench looking at the weirwood tree wondering how best to approach Kepus. When I hear Ssr Criston finally stop behind me I turn to look up at him.

“Why is it so hard to talk to him? We sent letters for all those years, so why can't I speak to him?” I ask as tears rim my eyes that I fight to push down.

An heir cannot look weak. I think wiping at my eyes fervently.

He sighs with a look that almost seems pained. Like seeing me so hurt and confused hurts him. But why would it? It isn't him that is feeling this way.

“Mayhaps because of the letters.” He says with a look of pity.

Do not pity me, that means I'm weak and Father will hate me more. I think as I mull over his words.

“What do you mean?”

He looks up in thought before letting out a long sigh. “You didn't have to face him when you spoke your words. You didn't even need to speak them. You write all your thoughts down and send them to him. You didn't need to worry about his reaction because he wasn't in front of you.” He says before looking down at me again. “That is at least my guess, Your Grace.”

I think over his words before looking at my Kepus who seems to he walking towards me.

“Thank you, Ser Criston. You may leave me.”

He gives a quick bow before walking a few paces away to give me and my Kepus privacy.

“I was wondering where you had gone.” I hear him say. I remember that voice, the teasing lilt after each word. The way it always made me feel safe even now.

But yet again no words leave me, I only look up at him fighting tears that demand to fall.

Instead of speaking of my obvious hurt he sits next to me, warping an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close to his chest. And without thought, without caring, I let all my pain, worry, and confusion out.

He rubs my back gently telling me to ‘let it all out’. I know that if Father sees me in this state there will be more lessons on how to act among Lords and Ladies. But I don't care, because for the first time in a long time I feel completely and utterly safe.

I don't know how long I cried, but what I do know is by the time I'm done I feel like all the weight has left my shoulders and I can finally breathe again. So I lift my head finding a clear wet spot on his jerkin and sit straight against the back of the bench once more.

“I'm sorry.” I whisper looking down at my hands as I chew at my lip.

“And what do you have to be sorry for?” He asks as he puts his forefinger under my chin to force me to look at him.

I stop letting myself take in his features once more.

He has a strong jaw that seems tense right now. High cheekbones, and his long straight nose. His hair is the same silver blonde as I remember, only it's shorter. But it's his eyes that I know, his eyes that I have always been able to remember. Those deep lilacs that always seem to have mischief in them as well as something darker, something dangerous. But that is never shown towards me and I never understood why.

I'm brought back by the tapping of his finger on my chin. He seems almost amused which leads me to believe he caught me inspecting his features.

“I ruined your jerkin.” I finally say which only makes him throw his head back laughing. “What's so funny?” I ask, confusion washing over my face.

“I don't care about the jerkin, ñuha riña. What I'm more worried about is you.” He says and I can't help the way my heart squeezes in joy when he uses my nickname.

“I'm fine.” I say but I can tell he knows it's a lie, I mean I did just sob into his chest so I can't blame him.

He hums before picking something up from beside him. It is only now that I realize he was carrying something.

“I heard you were in need of this. And who would I be if I didn't bring it to you?” and there in his James is a new copy of the story of Daenys the Dreamer and her brother husband Gaemon.

“You found it.” I say in awe as I take it from him feeling the soft leather as I open the book to find all the same paintings and pictures that were in my old one.

“Well you did ask me to.” He says in his teasing tone.

“No, I asked you to tell me where to get it.” I correct with a cheeky grin.

This makes him chuckle and I can't help but smile when his eyes crinkle in the way that always means he is happy.

“Well you're welcome nonetheless.”

I giggle flipping through the pages reading some of my favorite passages. We sit like this for a while, in silence. Not the kind where you feel stiff and like you can't breathe, the kind where you feel safe and loved.

That is until I look up at him again and find him reading the book over my shoulder.

“If you want to read it, get one yourself.” I scold holding the book to my chest.

He raises a brow in shock giving me a playful smirk.

“I'm sorry, you're right I will read one I paid for.” He says before taking the book back and starts reading it.

“Hey!” I yell trying to reach for it but he holds it just out of my reach.

“I'm doing what you told me to do, ñuha riña.” He says with what I've heard would be called a shit eating grin.

“Please.” Is all I say holding my hands out for my book. I'm not sure if it will work until I look up at him and he seems so…soft. Like he can't say no to me in this moment. It's a strange feeling after so many years of having cold looks from everyone but Ali and my younger siblings.

“Fine, but you better let me borrow it.” He says and I can't help but giggle because for some reason I know I will more than likely be reading it with him.

“Agreed.” I hold my hand out for him to shake and he does before bending down to kiss my knuckles.

The rest of the afternoon we spend reading or he's making me tell stories about the times when he was away. Like the first time I got to hold Aegon, or how many times have me and Laena almost given our parents heart attacks while flying.

“Well it sounds like a lot happened while I was gone.” He says almost mournfully. And his face is grief stricken. I can't help but frown when I see it, he didn't want to leave.

I can't help but kick myself for all the times I thought he left because he was tired of us.

I decide to lean into him and hug him as tight as I can. “I missed you.” I say and for some reason he tenses at my words. Almost as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

I feel his arms wrap around mine as he kisses the crown of my head. “I missed you as well, ñuha riña.”

But for some reason my mind decided to turn my head and I noticed Rhaenyra with her guard Ser Daniel Karstark. I frown at the way they look at each other.

Rhaenyra is doing that eye thing again and he is brushing the hair from her shoulder. It looks like they are courting but that can't be right he's a Kingsguard. They can't marry anyone.

But even though I know this, and I know they know this. I can't help but wonder if they care.

Special thanks to my bestie @sugutoad for making the header for this fiction! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @themoonlitquill @technicallylegendaryenemy @thelastemzy @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @athzhowakar

22 notes · View notes