#i don’t celebrate Christmas but for those who do merry christmas!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

toournextadventure · 11 months ago

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a novel life pt.2

Summary: You're trying to make nice with Sam's little sister, for everyone's sake. Maybe it leads to an interrogation. Maybe it leads to more. And maybe you end up sucked into the unusual events that follow Legacies

Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: swearing, distrust, mentions of past trauma, mentions of blood, mentions of Scream typical violence Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x GN!Reader A/N: Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Yule, and whatever holidays y'all all celebrate 🫶 (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5)

“Are you sure this is okay?” You asked as you nearly tripped over your feet.

Sam gave you a look that was both sweet and condescending. “Yes, because I said so.”

“That doesn’t seem like solid reasoning,” you mumbled, but nonetheless continued following her up the steps to her apartment.

It was nearing Halloween, with the cooling air finally allowing for the use of jackets. Which you had few of, since Sam had decided to keep them for herself. Not that there was anyone to blame but yourself; it was what you deserved for offering her jackets every time she forgot one. She had simply decided it was rather nice to have an unlimited selection of jackets, both too-large and just right.

In all her wisdom, Sam had suggested the two of you, and Tara and her partner have a movie night. Tara got to choose the movie, and no one could object. All in all it should have been a win for the younger Carpenter; she could make you suffer if she truly wanted, and you couldn’t say a word about it. Which was going to cause the night to be very, very long.

Oh, the things you would do for her.

“Is she going to pick something scary?” You asked before you both approached the door. “Because I don’t like scary.”

“I have no doubt it will be scary,” Sam said with a barely-concealed smile. “I’ll hold your hand to keep you safe.”

“You’re my hero,” you said as you leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to her lips. She tasted strongly of the cigarette she had smoked on the way from your apartment to hers.

You tried to pull away, but she quickly followed, keeping her lips pressed against yours. Every sense was enveloped by her. Her smell, her taste, the feel of her body pressed against yours so tightly it was as if you would float away without her. There was nothing you could have ever wanted more than your Sam.

“We shouldn’t give Tara something to be upset about,” you mumbled against Sam’s lips when she finally pulled back just the slightest distance.

“Tara’s always upset,” she answered before sighing, “but you’re right.”

“Baby steps,” you said with a smile.

“For the big baby.”

“Samantha.”

“I’m kidding,” she tried to argue as she grabbed your hand and started finally moving into the apartment.

You both knew she wasn’t kidding.

“My dude!”

You had barely walked through the door when Tara’s partner called out to you, a genuine, toothy grin visible on their face. They had asked you to call them J, which you had happily agreed to. Sam teased that it was short for Joker - you assumed because of the scars - but the look on Tara’s face told you not to ever bring it up. Ever.

It was a rule you could oblige by.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again,” you said as you hung your coat on the back of one of the chairs at the dining table. It had only taken you dropping your coat once before you realised the Carpenters saw no need for a coat rack.

How utterly uncivilised.

“They think it’s a pleasure to see me,” J said to Tara, who rolled her eyes almost instantly.

You would never say it aloud, but you noticed the small smile she sent their way. So, she wasn’t as heartless as she wanted you to believe. Exactly like her older sister. It would be simple enough to chalk it down to their past experiences with the world; it had taught them nothing but hardness. But maybe they both just needed a safe space to let those walls come down.

“What did you choose?” Sam asked. She very quickly made her way to the couch opposite Tara and J.

“Depends,” they said.

“On?” Sam asked.

J turned to look at you and held something up to their mouth. “What’s your favourite scary movie?” The voice came out almost robotic, sounding similar to… something you possibly recognised? Vaguely?

“That’s not funny,” Sam said quickly.

“Lighten up, Sam,” Tara said even though she pushed J’s hand - and the voice changer - into their lap. “We’re watching Hellraiser.”

“Thought you didn’t like that one,” Sam said. She reached over and grabbed your hand the moment you sat down beside her on the couch.

Tara’s eyes darted to where your hands were joined and lingered. “I don’t.” She looked back up at you with a hard gaze. “I picked it out just for you.”

“Oh,” you said, perking up instantly. “Thank you.”

You turned to look at Sam with a stupid smile on your face, missing the look J sent Tara. Well, this was turning into a lovely evening! Tara had picked out a movie just for you! Surely that was progress to the finest degree, was it not? If all it took was watching a movie with them every month, you were more than happy to do so. This was turning out to be a rather lovely evening.

At least you thought so until the movie started and you realised just exactly why Tara had picked the movie out just for you.

It was… well, it was a movie. Filled with hooks and needles and… blood. Oh gosh, so much blood. There was a singular blessing amongst it all; you hadn’t eaten before coming over. Thankfully the popcorn sat untouched between you and Sam as your stomach twisted and turned and tried its best to embarrass you.

Sam squeezed your hand as you did your best to keep your cool. Not that it was such an easy thing with all the… you couldn’t even think the word without feeling queasy. Surely there was no way they all enjoyed this kind of thing, right? It was grotesque! The creatures on the screen, the inhumanity of it all, how was it an enjoyable movie?

The room started to shrink around you. Oh, that wasn’t good, you didn’t want to feel claustrophobic, you were trying to be tough. You couldn’t let anyone know that you had an, um, aversion to blood. What would they say? They were all horror fans, how could you ever possibly mention that you just… didn’t enjoy it? Quite frankly, it made you sick to your stomach, like all those science experiments you had to do back in grade school.

The credits couldn’t have rolled a moment too soon. If anyone were to ask you what you thought, you wouldn’t have been able to answer. The only thing you were aware of was your heart beating loudly in your ear and the saliva that continued to fill your mouth. Maybe it would actually be better if you didn’t try to answer anyone for a few more moments.

“So, Professor,” Tara asked all too soon. “What did you think?”

“I-”

-You cut yourself short. There was a part, a rather significant part of your mind that said you should lie. Tell Tara it was a wonderful movie, and you would love to see more if it existed. But lying had never gotten you anywhere in the past, had it? It certainly wasn’t going to assist you in winning over Tara, not when she was already sceptical of you. How was a lie going to assist you?

It wasn’t.

“It’s not my cup of tea,” you finally said before swallowing the remaining saliva in your mouth. “I don’t really enjoy scary movies.” You nodded to yourself. “Or blood.”

“Oh my god,” Tara huffed, “why can’t you just lose your shit about something?”

“Tara,” Sam warned.

“No, this is ridiculous,” she continued as she stood up from the couch, ignoring J reaching for her hand. “Why can’t you lose your shit?” She pointed at you. “Nobody is this level-headed about everything.”

“That’s enough,” Sam said as she followed suit, standing up from the couch. Similarly, you reached out for her hand but she moved just far enough away.

“Get out,” Tara said before promptly looking Sam dead in the eyes.

“Excuse me?” Sam asked.

“Get out,” she repeated.

“Hey, T-”

“-You too,” Tara interrupted J, who froze with a comically shocked expression on their face. “Both of you get out so I can talk to them-” she pointed at you “-alone.”

“Absolutely not-”

“-Sounds reasonable,” you interrupted Sam. She looked at you like you had grown a second head. “I would love to talk.”

“Come on, Baby Ghost,” J said as they stood up. You were starting to feel left out by being the only one still sitting. “I’ll buy you a new pack of cigs.”

Sam looked like she wanted to argue, but both you and Tara gave her a look. Differing looks, of course, but still. While Tara seemed to get her a death stare that was almost permanently etched onto her face, you tried to go the more convincing route. If Tara wanted to talk, who were you to tell her no? Talking was key, that’s what your family had always done and it had never ended poorly.

“Fine,” Sam finally said. She seemed resigned. “But you have 15 minutes and that’s it.”

“Deal,” Tara said. “Now get out.”

You stayed as still as a statue when Sam leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. A little more forceful than usual, but you wouldn’t complain. Any kiss from her was perfect. A sigh came from behind her, and you both knew who it was from, but she took her time before pulling away and standing back up.

“Don’t let her bully you,” she said.

“Sam,” Tara said forcefully. “Get out.”

“Fine,” Sam said, throwing her hands up. “But I mean it,” she said as she and J walked to the door together. “15 minutes.”

You and Tara both watched your partners leave the apartment, practically abandoning you to the force of nature that was the youngest Carpenter sister. It shamed you to admit you were a little afraid of her. You knew there was something going on deep down that she either wouldn’t or couldn’t accept, and you wouldn’t dare fault her for it. But she let her internal frustrations out in a very external way.

“What’s wrong with you?” Tara asked the moment the door shut behind the two. You stayed silent. “You don’t yell, you don’t scream, you don’t even freak out when I put on a movie I knew you would hate.”

You waited a moment to make sure she was finished. “I was raised by two very… pacifistic parents,” you said, gesturing for her to sit on the couch opposite you. “We talked through our issues, we didn’t yell about them.”

Tara opened her mouth as if she was about to argue, or complain, or something. Slowly, her mouth closed and she pursed her lips. She kept looking at you, but slowly took a seat opposite you. There was something going on behind her eyes, you could see it, but you knew better than to question her just yet. Just like your mom had taught you; let them lead the conversation.

“I don’t trust you,” she said slowly. Her eyes stayed locked with yours. “You’re too understanding and too kind.” You stayed silent. “Sam only ever falls for freaks.”

“Didn’t she date an FBI agent?” You asked. You could vaguely remember what Sam had said about her, but she had seemed nice enough.

“Kirby is cool, I’ve always liked her,” Tara said with a dismissive shake of her head. “But she was attacked by Ghostface twice,” she said, “so she’s a freak by proxy.” She looked back at you. “So what’s your deal?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know,” you said, “ask your questions and maybe you can find out.”

It had initially been your idea, but before Tara could even open her mouth you started to second guess yourself. Perhaps allowing her to ask whatever questions she wanted without any repercussions was… not the smartest idea on your part. You had nothing to hide, but what if she really started to ask unusual questions? What if your answers weren’t what she wanted to hear?

But when you thought of Sam, and being with her, you felt that, without question, it was worth the gamble.

“Have you ever used a knife?” Tara asked quickly. It seemed she wasn’t going to wait.

“Not outside of cooking,” you answered just as quickly.

“How about a gun?” So, it would be a rapid fire interrogation. Game on.

“Never.”

“Ever hurt anybody before?” A tilt of her head.

“Not on purpose.”

“What about animals?”

“No.”

“Not even in science class?”

“I-” you attempted to clear your throat to buy a bit of time “-I fell ill that day.”

Tara paused and narrowed her eyes. “Because of blood.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” you said anyway. “It makes me sick to my stomach.”

“You’re pretty pathetic,” Tara said as she leaned back on the couch. For the first time in… well, ever, you thought you almost saw her smile at you. “That’s exactly Sam’s type.”

“I thought you said it was freaks,” you pointed out.

“Pathetic freaks,” she corrected quickly. That quirk near the corner of her mouth rapidly disappeared. “Why did you choose Sam?”

You paused. It was uncertain what exactly Sam had told Tara about you both meeting. Surely she wouldn’t have overdramatised it, but had she told her the truth? The truth was… well, it was pathetic as well, but you weren’t entirely convinced Tara would approve. Not that it was entirely her place, but the two were the only family each other had. They both had a right to be cautious of anyone new coming into their lives.

But perhaps you could answer the question a little differently.

“She’s kind,” you said with a subconscious nod of your head. “And bold, and intelligent - god she’s intelligent - and brave.” You averted Tara’s eyes. “And she’s really pretty too.”

Tara nodded once. “What are your intentions with her?”

Another question that you believed was potentially a trick. You couldn’t very well say you loved Sam just yet; you hadn’t even told Sam that little piece of information. But there were other intentions with her even if you didn’t necessarily use the word “love.” There were other things that were just as important.

“I don’t want to sound overly self-important,” you started off, looking back up to meet Tara’s eyes. “But I would very much like to be the one by Sam’s side as she continues on this path she’s created for herself.”

Tara looked at you; really looked at you. She was so very difficult for you to read. Unlike Sam, Tara did a better job at hiding her emotions. While Sam would give it away with her facial expressions, Tara did not. No, her feelings came out differently, whether in the slight twitch of her fingers or the impatient tapping of her foot on the rug. You hadn’t been around her long enough to know what exactly those feelings were, you simply acknowledged they were feelings.

“I’ll give you a chance,” Tara finally said, her voice far softer than you had ever heard. At least when it was directed at you. “But if you do anything to hurt her, or upset her, or lie to her, I won’t hesitate to kill you.” You gulped. “I’m not afraid to kill again.”

“I forgot you’ve both killed someone before,” you mumbled to yourself before speaking up louder. “Those are acceptable terms.”

“Good,” she said with a single nod of her head. “But don’t think this means I’ll go easy on you.”

You could both hear the other two finally approaching the door, bickering in a way that mimicked biological siblings.

“I would expect nothing less,” you told Tara as the door opened and the moment ended.

—---

The rest of the semester went by without incident. Tara had stayed true to her word and gave you a fair chance to prove that you could be trusted with her sister’s heart, and it wasn’t something you had taken lightly. You knew how important the both of them were to each other, and you had done your best to prove that not only did you care for Sam, but you cared for Tara too.

She had finally eased up during classes, allowing you to properly teach without an ounce of disdain for you personally. In fact, she had even dared to come to office hours on more than one occasion to discuss certain pieces you had offered as optional readings. The Carpenters were immensely intelligent, no matter what the subject matter was.

You and Sam had fallen into a rather comfortable routine, always going for a date night on Thursdays to whatever new place your colleagues had recommended, and movies with Tara and J on Saturdays. You would spend the night at her place Thursday through Monday morning, and she would stay at yours Monday through Thursday morning. It was comfortable, and you were more than content.

But with school finally over for the semester, you could focus on the real gem; Christmas.

Both Carpenters - and J, for that matter - had been nonchalant with their decorations. A minimal Charlie Brown tree that had, at most, four ornaments on it. It was awfully quaint, and if they hadn’t been so blase about it you would have been content to leave it standing. Nevertheless, they had made it clear they didn’t care if there were any decorations, and you had taken that as a cry for help.

Your own apartment had, of course, been decorated since the day after Thanksgiving. It was a wonderful gift from your mother, learning how to decorate for the holidays, and you weren’t keen on squandering the skills and letting them fall off the wagon, so to speak. Sam had made a few comments, though you hadn’t taken her for a non-believer.

“It’s okay, really,” Sam tried to say when you and J finished bringing in what had to have been the seventh box of decorations from your apartment.

“Oh no, I insist,” you said with a smile. “Besides, my mother would be downright dismayed if she knew the decorations were sitting in my apartment unused.”

“Great,” Tara mumbled as she walked by without even offering to help, “we get to live at the North Pole.”

“Isn’t it exciting?” You said with a smile. “These are more neutral, so you shouldn’t feel too out of place, but they still embody the holiday spirit.”

“Well I think it’ll be fun,” J said with their own smile. “Do I get to hang the ornaments?”

“Why-”

“-the ornaments won’t be the only thing hanging this Christmas,” Tara said, tossing a mini marshmallow into the air and catching it in her mouth. “Especially with those blinding lights.”

You looked down at the ones in your hand and frowned. “I thought they were rather tame.”

“And they’re lovely,” Sam tried to cover, even though you could see the fake smile she had on her face. “You’re doing great,” she continued as she left a simple kiss on your cheek.

The decorating ended up being a one person job, you quickly realised when you discovered J could not, for the life of them, listen to instructions. More than once, the lights had been blown and you had to find the faulty one to fix it. Normally you would chalk it down to bad luck, but when it was only the ones that they were installing? You became a little suspicious.

At least they were all eager to help with the snacks and desserts, and that was something you could live with. Surprisingly, Tara was the one who had the most ideas. You knew you weren’t the best cook; you could follow instructions but that didn’t necessarily mean they would turn out nice. But with Tara at the helm? They were almost as good as your mother’s! Though obviously you would never dare to tell her that.

You also rather quickly discovered that they were not gift giving people. Understandable, you supposed, they had much more important things to worry about in life. It was still unacceptable. The moment you had found out, you had called your parents and told them the tragic news.

Gifts for all three of them - plus a gift each for Mindy, Chad, and Anika - had been delivered to your house within the week. Express shipping to be certain they would arrive before Christmas.

Which led to yet another tragedy; they had no stockings.

“It’s really not worth buying,” Sam attempted to persuade you over the phone on one of the rare nights you two weren’t spending together. “Just stay home tonight.”

“It’s no trouble, Sam,” you argued. “I’m heading out for a bit anyway.”

You didn’t admit you were already at the store, trying to decide which one would fit each person best.

“Just stay safe,” she said. You could hear car horns in the background but thought nothing of it. “I mean it.”

“I’ll be safe,” you insisted, “I always am.”

“Call me when you’re back home,” she said.

“Yes ma’am,” you said with a smile that she couldn’t see.

She hung up first, and you continued your search without any second thoughts. In the end, you had decided on a Santa stocking for J, a reindeer for Tara, and a snowman for Sam. They would look lovely hanging underneath the mounted television in their living room. But with the stockings, you needed things to fill them with.

Santa’s work was never finished.

It was dark by the time you finished buying everything you believed you needed. Stockings, fillers, and some snacks to make for a lovely evening. That should surely be enough to give the three of them a very merry Christmas, would it not? Your mother had already sent their Santa presents, and their other presents were underneath the tree, so as far as you were aware of at the moment, everything was taken care of.

You were still going over your mental checklist when you heard a commotion down one of the alleys on the way home. Every cell in your body told you not to bother looking; people got desperate around the holidays and it would do you no good to go poking your head where it didn’t belong. But if someone was getting hurt, then you needed to attempt to help.

Or at least make enough of a scene that someone else would come help.

“Excuse me?” You called out foolishly as you started down the dark alleyway. “Is everyone alright out there?”

You pulled your coat tighter around you as you continued walking. It hadn’t been raining or snowing recently, and yet something started to soak through your shoes and socks. The shocking cold that normally came from liquids in December wasn’t present; it was warm.

There was another noise. It almost sounded like something solid, but it was overshadowed by something metallic. You did your best to see something in the dark, even as your body continued to tell you to move along. But something didn’t feel right; you were feeling queasy again.

Something hissed in front of you, but it wasn’t a snake. No, you knew what those sounded like and this wasn’t even close. This sounded much more human, though that sound would only ever really happen in dire circumstances like if-

-a large white mask faced you. It was the only thing you could see in the dark, thanks to the lights behind you causing just enough radiance to make the mask almost seem luminescent. You weren’t a movie buff, especially not scary movies, but you weren’t stupid. Everyone knew what that mask was.

Ghostface.

All those cells that had been telling you to run? They were silent. Frozen in fear, just like your mind. The killer wasn’t moving toward you, simply facing you, almost as if it was the very reason you were stationary. Which, it was, but not in the typical way that most would be privy to. You felt like a deer in headlights, and if you moved then you died.

You supposed that was how all the movies went.

“Aren’t you going to run?” Ghostface asked, in that same voicebox that J had had during the movie night.

You swallowed the saliva filling your mouth. “No,” you said in a trembling voice.

“Why not?” He continued. “I like when they run.”

“I’m not very fast,” you said. “You’ll catch me before I get to the street.”

He still didn’t move, and your eyes finally adjusted enough to see the silhouette of a body slumped at his feet. Your throat constricted at the sight; you were going to be sick. The very image started to worm its way into your brain; there was a very simple explanation for what was still soaking through your socks. It wasn’t snow.

“You should get home, Professor,” Ghostface said.

You nodded, even though you weren’t sure if he could see you. “Yes I should.”

“Stay on the sidewalk next time,” he said.

“I- I believe that’s sound advice,” you said with more frantic nods of your head. Your palms were starting to get clammy.

Ghostface lifted up a hand - holding a knife - and waved. “Good night, Professor.”

“Good night,” you said with your own shaky wave.

You walked backwards out of the alley, keeping an eye on the figure until it was completely out of sight. Your feet were frozen on the ground once you were under a street light. There were no more sounds coming from the alley, not even the sound of someone leaving. Wherever Ghostface had gone, he hadn’t followed you.

In an incredibly brave moment, you leaned over and vomited directly into a storm grate before going back home. You called Sam the moment you got back into your apartment.

You couldn’t find the courage to inform her of the night’s mystery encounter.

#samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter imagine #sam carpenter imagine

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luv4fushi · 11 months ago

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omfg i litr read everything uve written off ur masterlist I NEED MOREEEE. i love the way u write megumi especially, i couldn’t get enough of it. i hope you write more of him, my heart aches for more tbh 🥹 tysm for being such a good writer and feeding us starved readers well

tysm! i'm sooo glad i can be a good source of megumi content for you >_< i looove writing megumi so you'll be seeing sooo much more of him, dw! happy holidays!

this december

jjk fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

it’s always colder on your own, especially around this time of year. you should be at home, bundled up with a warm cup of hot chocolate, but here you are in shinjuku, exorcizing curses with your ex boyfriend two weeks after your breakup with him. great.

content: post break up, aged up megumi (19/20), megumi is terrible at feelings, getting back together, fluff if you squint, a bit of angst, miscommunication, one bed (but it isn’t the main plot point sorry), megumi calls you baby like once, gojo is the best wingman, SHIBUYA ARC NEVER HAPPENED AND LIFE IS GOOD, not proofread im very sorry guys pls forgive me, kinda a word dump sry

word count: 5.8k (sigh this was supposed to be 2k words max)

click on my masterlist for more & merry christmas to those who celebrate!

it’s december 19th when satoru gojo tells you that he has a mission just for you. you’re less than ecstatic about it to say the least. the last thing you want to do is be sent to your death just shy of christmas day. you just want to rest your sore muscles and bask in the presence of your best friends. you’re not in the mood to kill any curses, mainly because you’ve just recovered from a previous mission.

“why me?” you groan.

gone are the days where you used to be a goody two shoes for satoru. you’re old enough to talk back now, not like when you had been a shy fifteen-year-old girl. besides, you’ve been around the silver-haired sorcerer long enough to know that he doesn’t mind the bite.

“sorry, kid,” satoru says with a shrug. at least he sounds genuine about it. “the higher ups requested for you specifically. they say you’ll get the job done in the cleanest way. we can’t have things getting messy before the holidays, right?”

“and you wouldn’t be the best choice?” you quip.

satoru only laughs. he ruffles your hair. even with your growth spurt and merciless training, he still towers over you. in a way, he’ll always be your mentor. “hey, i’m going out of town that weekend. give me a break.”

you huff petulantly. something about this mission seems fishy to you. you’re not nearly the strongest sorcerer out of the bunch of kids under satoru’s wings (not that you guys are kids anymore, but sometimes it’s hard to feel otherwise). hell, there’s the kyoto students. it feels like they never have to do anything. you wish that you were rebellious enough to chew utahime out for it.

“why couldn’t they just make yuta or megumi go?” you mutter under your breath. you stammer out megumi’s name and hope satoru doesn’t catch on to the way you can barely say it.

satoru knows about the breakup. why wouldn’t he? he’s basically megumi’s dad, even if the raven haired boy refuses to admit it. satoru’s six eyes mean you can’t hide anything from him (he’d been the first to know that megumi was head over heels for you).

satoru raises a brow. “oh, right. megumi’s coming along too.”

your face twists and you immediately whip around to glare at him. “you’re lying.”

“i wish,” he jokes. “i was really hoping i’d get a wedding invitation one day, you little rascal. i can’t believe you two broke up. maybe this’ll be a good thing!”

“i appreciate your honesty, but—”

“but megumi’s an emotionally constipated kid, yeah, that i know,” satoru laughs. he makes his way to the exit of his office which has you furrowing your brows. is your former teacher actually gonna just leave after making you come all the way here? how rude and so very in character of him.

“please, gojo,” you call out after him, “i don’t wanna go with him.”

“sucks for you,” satoru responds halfheartedly. “merry christmas. try not to take more than a week on this. you’ll have to pay the rest of the fee for accommodations if you do.”

“gojo!” you whine.

“it’s not a hard mission!” satoru insists like it’ll make your life any easier. “y’know, this time of year is when things get ugly. think of it as saving as many people as you can while putting in the least amount of effort!”

and then he teleports. your former teacher teleports away rather than being normal and walking out of the door. you roll your eyes and hope that he can sense it (you know he can’t).

so that’s why you’re here now. with your ex. on the elevator to your assigned room on the tenth floor. you’re so glad that it’s a normal hotel and not a love hotel. lord knows what you’d do if you had checked into a love hotel.

megumi hasn’t spoken a word to you since he broke up with you two weeks ago. it had been in the doorway to your apartment a few days after a particularly rough mission assigned to the both of you—the one you’re still recovering from. he’d pulled you in for a hug, whispering sweet words into your ear. he gave you a look, one of those looks that made him soften his usually sharp eyes.

“i think we should break up.”

and then came the pathetic whimper of yours. he had wiped your tears, even kissed them tenderly, before telling you that it wasn’t your fault—it was his. how cliche.

now as you stand next to him, you want to beat yourself up for not asking for closure. neither of you had explicitly stated that you two were going to be no-contact, but it hurts a lot less to push the idea of forever with megumi away to the back of your mind. besides, you two aren’t confrontational like that. not with each other, anyway.

“need help?” his tone is soft, tender—the tone he reserves specifically for you, the one that tells you he still cares.

you stare down at the luggage at your feet. you’ve always been a chronic overpacker, a habit that megumi knows of by now. he watches you curiously, hands itching at his sides. you can tell that he wants to reach out and grab your suitcase like he always does. he thinks he isn’t obvious, but you can always read through the lines, especially when it’s megumi.

“i’m okay,” you croak out, clearing your throat awkwardly.

the elevator dings and you make your way to your room. as much as you hate to admit it, you’re sort of glad that you and your ex boyfriend are sharing a room. perhaps his’ll be a good way to get closure, though you’re not really sure what closure entails.

what you don’t expect is to unlock the door and be met with a singular bed.

if satoru gojo didn’t have a layer of infinity coating his body (and if he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive), you would’ve wrung out his neck.

megumi simply walks into the room, setting his duffel bag down on one of the dressers opposite from the foot of the bed. he doesn’t comment on the lack of double beds, seemingly already aware of the set up.all he does is puff out a weary sigh. you suck in a breath and follow him inside, slipping your shoes off at the entrance.

you lug your suitcase in after you along with your duffel bag and backpack. you stumble forward and megumi’s arm snakes around your waist, steadying you.

“careful,” he mutters, nonchalantly taking your bag off our your shoulders.

it’s a quick series of movements; he swings your bag over his shoulders and places it on the dresser next to the one he’s claimed while guiding you softly to the side of the bed so that you’re not standing in the middle of the doorway.

you scrunch your face, feeling your heart thump against your ribcage. it’s stupid how he still has such a hold on you, even after two weeks of not seeing or talking to him. he’s just so caring, so gentle. it stings, like little the little cuts you get when fighting curses, when you realize that this is something you’ll have to learn how to lose.

“thanks,” you manage to mutter. you don’t trust yourself to say anything else. you know from the way your throat tightens that you’ll be crying soon if you force yourself to talk any more.

“i can take the couch,” megumi says.

it’s that easy with him; he’s a gentleman, so of course he’d take the couch. that’s the way megumi fushiguro is—he offers a solution before you even have the chance to complain. in your year and a half long relationship, that skill of his had been a saving grace.

“no, don’t bother,” you croak. “i’ll book another room.”

“really?” he asks. he stands up a little straighter, awkwardly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “i mean, i don’t mind sharing a room with you… we’ve..”

we’ve shared a room countless of times before.

megumi doesn’t have to continue his sentence for you to understand what he’s implying. you part your lips to speak, but nothing comes out except for a long, heavy sigh. your shoulders drop as you let the exhaustion seep into your bones. there’s no use arguing about it, not when you don't’ mind sharing a room with megumi, either.

“we’ve broken up,” you remind him in a quiet voice, like you’re afraid saying it out loud will make it truer than it already is.

megumi pauses. you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “i know that, but … it’ll be fine. we’ve shared a room as friends before.”

he’s right, like he usually is. you two have shared a room before as just friends, but that had been as teenagers—back when you both harbored such hardcore crushes on each other that you two somehow didn’t notice.

“right,” you find yourself agreeing with a small nod.

“you should go get ready for bed.” megumi begins grabbing a few or the decorative pillow off of the bed. he places them gingerly on the brown couch tucked in the corner of the hotel room. “we’ll be getting up pretty early to deal with the brunt of the mission.”

to finish this mission as quickly as possible, you think.

and so you oblige and head to the bathroom. it’s december 19th, just a few days shy of christmas day, and you’re in bed with your ex boyfriend on the couch just a few feet away.

december 20th greets you with megumi hovering over you. he peers down at you with his messy bangs covering his eyes. they’re piercingly blue as he blinks. his lashes flutter perfectly, even in the early morning. your eyes meet his and you jolt awake.

“good morning,” he says. “your alarm has been ringing for a bit now, so i turned it off.”

you blink rapidly, getting the tiredness out of your eyes. “oh.”

he chuckles softly, just enough for you to catch it with your ears. he rises from his crouched position and heads to the front door. he spares you a glance over his shoulder before he heads out, presumably giving you the privacy you need. you let out a strangled breath before you swing your legs over the bed and head to the bathroom.

by the time you’re finished putting on your uniform, you swing the door to your hotel room open and see megumi leaned up against the wall, tapping away on his phone. his dark blue eyes flicker up to you and he turns away to head down the hall.

you furrow your brows. you can’t help but think that he’s being a little cold to you. it isn’t like you initiated the breakup. despite your frustration with his behavior, you can sort of understand why he wouldn’t want to be sweet around you; you two aren’t dating anymore and so it makes sense that he’d go back to being aloof in your presence, the usual way he acts around everyone else. losing that position in his life makes your stomach churn for reasons you’re less than willing to uncover.

your mission is a vague one; all you know is that it’s a clean-up mission. rather than a level 1 curse (or even a special grade), the mission consists of an acclimation of weak curses surrounding shinjuku. these missions are normally given to younger, more inexperienced sorcerers with the help of a senior sorcerer, but for an odd reason, it’s been given to you and megumi this year. megumi could’ve probably handled it himself. actually, you could’ve handled it yourself.

you bite your tongue to hold back on your complaints as you walk just a step behind megumi. he pauses regularly, waiting for you to catch up to his side. you roll your eyes in secret. does he not realize that you don’t want to walk next to him?

“it’s all just bars,” you mutter.

with that, you earn a tiny laugh from megumi. “well, yeah. this is the red-light district of shinjuku.”

you pale. “this sucks.”

“why do you think i wanted to come out here in the morning rather than at night?” he says, his tone strangely light.

“to deal with the brunt of the mission,” you repeat his words from last night sarcastically. you’re unsure as to what he’s talking about, so you think that it’s okay to give him a little bit of attitude.

he raises his brow but doesn’t comment on your sarcasm. instead, he says softly, “no, stupid. it’s because this is the red-light district. it’s unsafe for anyone, especially a pretty, young girl alone at night.”

your first thought is to coo and tease him. you think i’m pretty? it takes you half a second to remember that you two are broken up. you scoff, “i’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“i never said you weren’t,” megumi shoots back. “it would just be annoying explaining to the higher ups why you were fighting people and not curses.”

“i’m sure they’d understand,” you retort, frowning. you cross your arms.

“don’t be so pouty,” he says in that stupid, gentle tone he uses with you when you’re acting bratty.

you both decide to split up. well, it’s more like you demand the two of you to split up. you say it under the pretense that it’ll get the job done faster. besides, you both want to be home before christmas day, right?

there’s about two curses you cross paths with every hour. you’re starting to lose your mind. shouldn’t the streets be infested with them? you don’t even need a veil! all you have to do is give the weak curses just one punch and they vaporize on the spot. your head is running with hundreds of thoughts.

that’s when it hits you: the first years at the tokyo jujutsu school did come out here a week prior! maybe they did a bad job? but you remember nobara had been the one to lead the group. she may half-ass almost everything in her life, but she wouldn’t jeopardize her underclassmen for the sake of her freetime.

so why on earth are you here? it’s not like there are enough harmful curses for a mission to be assigned to you right before christmas, and to you and megumi of all sorcerers. you’re both strong enough to the point of having some kind of importance in the jujutsu world. the higher ups wouldn’t send the two of you on some stupid mission for the sake of it unless they’re planning some sort of secret execution. but even then, satoru gojo should’ve known through their lies to not send you or megumi. unless…he wants you two dead…?

you shake your head and bite your nails. the sun begins to set and you realize that you’ve been out here for longer than you expected. you’re starting to feel a chill in your bones—you had argued petulantly with megumi earlier about not wanting to wear your jacket despite it being the dead of winter; “it’s gonna get in the way!”

you always seem to forget the the sun sets earlier in the winter. it’s stupid how bright all the lights are in shinjuku. there isn’t a square foot of anything that isn’t lit up with neon signs reading out the names of clubs and bars. you see couples and large groups of people walking along the streets.

it’s lonely, you realize. it would’ve been less lonely with megumi.

you make your way to the meeting spot with megumi. you both share a few small words before retiring for the night. megumi says he wants to go sightseeing, even though there’s really nothing much to see. he doesn’t return to the hotel room until late at night.

when he slips into the only bed that the room offers, you chalk it up to the slight alcohol you smell on his lips. it feels so natural that you don’t push him away even though you should. his body is warm and you fit so perfectly against his broad chest that you think it’ll be okay for you to be a little selfish tonight.

“g’night,” megumi mumbles in his sleep.

you smile and nuzzle closer.

it’s december 21st as you realize how late it is in the day. megumi is back on the couch. you feel a tinge of disappointment in the bottom of your stomach.

to no one’s surprise, the sun is barely peeking over the buildings when you’re finally back in the red-light district. you’re doing the last bit of cleanup, but there’s really nothing much for you to clean.

tomorrow, you’ll be heading to a shopping mall, so you suppose you should do your best to sniff out the rest of the curses littering the place unless you want to stay here an extra day. the day is, yet again, slow.

it’s nearing 8 PM and you're finally sure that you’ve gotten rid of all the curses in the general area. you’ve been done for quite a while now, but you just haven’t found the courage to let megumi know that you’re ready to go back to the hotel room. a little sightseeing on your end wouldn’t hurt, right?

“hi, pretty.” a gravelly voice, battered by cigarettes, whispers in your ear.

you jump in surprise. you need to remember not to get too far into your head. you should’ve felt his presence coming from a mile away. it’s a terrible habit and satoru has scolded you for years about it.

“hi,” you mutter, pushing past his larger frame.

the man isn’t as nicely built as the men you know (but then again, your friends are jujutsu sorcerers, so it’s kind of hard to beat that), but he still towers over you. he’s got a squad of rough-looking guys behind him, smirking down at you.

“why’s someone like you alone?” he says, shoving his arm to loop around your waist.

you roll your eyes, getting ready to punch the man square in the nose. will you get in trouble? probably yes. will it be a funny story to tell? also probably yes.

“don’t touch my wife.”

the group of men turn their heads along with you to see megumi. his expression is shrouded with a mixture of anger and frustration. you blink in confusion—megumi usually looks pretty pissed off, but this is the most angry you’ve seen him in a while. and ‘wife’? what’s up with that?

“oh, my bad,” the man chuckles. “didn’t know this pretty thing was married.”

“this ‘pretty thing’ wants you to let her go,” you say with an overly sweet smile. your teeth clench and you hiss, “right now.”

the guy scurries down the sidewalk with his buddies trailing along, making fun of him for hitting on a married woman. nobody mentions the lack of a ring on your finger. nobody mentions the lack of a relationship, either.

“wife?” you scowl. “we’re broken up.”

“guys tend to back up when they know a woman is married. it’s the only way you can really, uh, get them to go away around here.”

you glare at him. “and how would you know? you come here often with girls?”

“...no?” he blinks, unable to comprehend your sudden burst of jealousy. “i sometimes get missions around here, though. pretending to be married was the easiest way—”

“we aren’t, though. we’re not even in a relationship.” you seem to be throwing that into his face a lot more than you should. you can’t help it, though. you still feel a little bitter about not getting a real reason as to why megumi wanted to break up.

“i was trying to help you.” he’s calm and collected, as heard through his voice. he walks up to you and takes your freezing hand into his much warmer ones. “let’s go home.”

“i don’t want to,” you argue.

“stop being a brat,” he says, but there’s no bite to his words. “you’re cold and you’ve been out here all day. if i hadn’t stopped those guys, you probably would’ve beat them up pretty badly.”

“i’m not a fucking brat!” you try to retract your hand, but megumi’s grip only tightens.

“baby, stop,” the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease. megumi sighs softly and pulls you to his chest. “why are you so worked up, hm?”

from the way he speaks, you can tell that he already has an inkling. the breakup. cuddling last night. hugging you now. everything.

you don’t realize you’re crying until he gently wipes his thumb under your eye. he has the audacity to have an amused grin plastered on his stupidly pretty lips. your vision is blurry but if it hadn’t been, you would’ve thrown a punch.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair. “it’s all my fault.”

“it is,” you whimper pathetically. all the tears and the emotions you’ve been holding back bubble up to the surface.

“don’t be upset,” he almost pleads. “let’s go back, okay?”

the night ends with megumi on the couch. neither of you bring up the argument or the fact that he had slept in your bed with you last night. you two don’t talk about the usage of pet names, either.

when you open your eyes on december 22nd, you’re surprised to see that megumi has already headed out for the day. you click your tongue in annoyance—he’s always been good at avoiding his problems when it comes to dealing with them, especially problems involving his emotions. you already know where you’re supposed to be headed, so you suppose that it’s for the best that he’d left before you.

the shopping mall is a long line of vendors and stores among other things. the snow on the ground is fresh—it must’ve snowed late last night after you’d fallen asleep. it crunches underneath your beat-up sneakers with each step you take. you’re not shocked when you end up wandering aimlessly, dipping in and out of stores with no real urgency to finish your mission.

there’s nothing to do anyway.

you’ve killed about 3 curses total and it’s really starting to look like you’ve been sent out here for busy work. you really should’ve figured that out the first day of the mission when you had to practically beg the curses to come out and fight you.

you find yourself in the front of a jewelry store, eyeing a pretty bracelet that you know would look stunning around megumi’s wrist. it’s one of those bracelets that clasp tightly. there’s a thicker band in the center with pretty carvings that seem to resemble some sort of swirly heart. it’s pretty, you have to admit.

without much thought, you buy the gift.

the seller has to clear her throat to get your attention when you don’t answer her question. “um, would you like this to be wrapped?”

you nod absentmindedly. “oh, yes. sorry. please wrap it.”

she nods in return and proceeds to wrap the bracelet in a tiny box, adorning it with a festive bow. you ask her to change it out for a different color, explaining that it isn’t a christmas gift and instead, it’s for someone’s birthday. she offers you a warm smile before switching it with a muted blue ribbon.

you return to the hotel, having to take an expensive taxi. you don’t mind—the bracelet has already made a decent-sized dent in your wallet. why not spend an extra amount on getting home? it’s not like jujutsu sorcerers are paid poorly.

reality hits you when you finally get back to the hotel room. you want to punch yourself for being so stupid. did you really just buy a birthday present for your ex-boyfriend?

you’re thankful that megumi hasn’t arrived yet. he seems to be determined to avoid you for as long as he can. you can’t blame him, either. you did give him quite a hard time yesterday.

you toss the box on to the dresser and head to the bathroom to splash some much needed cold water on to your face. maybe that’ll wake you up enough to clear your mind. you’ve acted out once during this trip already and you’re not really looking forward to any other possible outbursts.

you rinse your face and pat yourself dry with one of the face towels provided to you by the hotel staff. you hang it over the rack again and tiredly make your way to your bed. you halt your movements when you see megumi standing by the dresser, admiring your gift.

he looks up at you in surprise with the smallest grin on his face. it’s so subtle that you would’ve missed it had you not been dating him for nearly two years.

“is this for me?”

“no,” you quickly deny. his face falls and you cough out, “um, i mean.. yeah. i-i didn’t… i… happy birthday.”

he brightens, lips pulling up into a real, genuine smile. “you remembered?”

“why wouldn’t i?” you blurt gently. you bite your inner cheek to stop yourself from saying anything more.

“i dunno.” his voice is distant and low, like he’s trying to hold back his tears. “i just…i didn’t think i was deserving of a gift from you. thank you. i like it.”

you stand awkwardly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. “yeah, well…”

“can you help me put it on?” he asks, sitting at the edge of your unmade bed.

you feel your body heat up. part of you screams for you to stop. you shouldn’t do that. it’s far too intimate and you two are broken up. you’ve never been good at making decisions, though, so you sit next to him and feel the mattress dip.

he gives you a grateful look, one that you willfully ignore, and gives you his wrist. you clasp the bracelet on, fingertips just barely grazing his skin. your heart skips a beat and you have to inhale sharply before pulling away.

“thank you,” he whispers.

december 23rd is a sore reminder that life goes on. you had half-expected something to spark between you and megumi. perhaps he’d beg for you back, or maybe with less wishful thinking, he’d give you his real reason as to why he doesn’t want you anymore.

“i don’t think we need to go anymore,” megumi says when you come out of the bathroom after freshening up.

“huh? why not?”

“there’s nothing out there.” megumi’s voice is flat.

“i know, but we’ll get in trouble if we…”

“gojo probably sent us out here for fun.”

your lips part. megumi turns to you with a slight frown.

“don’t you think so too?” he asks, but you know it isn’t a question he’s looking to find an answer to. “why would the higher-ups assign a mission like this to a special grade sorcerer and a grade 1 sorcerer? if they needed that much manpower, this mission would’ve been deadlier. instead, we’re playing cleanup crew.”

“yeah, but..” you trail off, unable to think of a statement to refute his words. “if we go back now, we’ll get chewed out.”

“it’s just a scolding. you’ll be fine.” megumi stands up and stretches his arms.

you watch him cautiously as he begins to fold his clothes and throw them into his duffel bag. he doesn’t say anything else, letting the silence overtake the room.

“...are we leaving, then?” you ask meekly, not bothering to hide the slight quiver in your voice.

he pauses slightly. “do you want to stay here until christmas? this mission is stupid and you know it. there’s no point.”

why is his tone so cold all of the sudden? it’s as if you two hadn’t shared a moment last night before bed. does your gift not mean anything to him now that he’s cleared his mind with a good rest?

your eyes flicker to his wrist. the gold glimmers underneath the light and you realize that megumi doesn’t seem to hate wearing it. so why is he acting so … unpleasant?

you feel a lump in your throat. it’s embarrassing how quickly he’s able to upset you from just the tone of his voice. even his body language, usually fluid and smooth, is rigid with your presence. you want to tell him that you’ve enjoyed your time with him. you want to shake his shoulders and tell him that if you two cut your mission short, you might not get another chance to be near him again.

“do you still care about me?” you whisper instead.

he stills completely. “what?”

“this entire time,” you begin shakily, “you’ve been nice to me. you treat me like you always do. you’re always hovering over me even though you pretend you aren’t! you obviously still care, megumi.”

his adam's apple bobs as swallows. a beat of silence. then two. then three.

“i do care,” he admits sorely.

“then why did you break up with me?” you blurt. there it is, the question you’ve been meaning to ask. you both had seen it coming.

“because…” megumi winces as if he’s the one getting hurt from the ordeal. “because you deserve someone that’s normal. someone that isn’t a sorcerer. i can’t give you that life.”

you feel your chest swarm with anger. why does he always think he needs to sabotage himself to make others happy? this is something you’ve tried working with him on, but it seems like old habits are hard to kill off, just like your habit of loving him.

“why the hell would you decide that for me? when did i ever say i wanted a normal life?” you snap. your hands clench at your sides.

“it’s too early for this,” he says, his voice straining as he finally musters up the strength to look at you in your eyes.

“tell me, megumi. if that’s the real reason, then that is the most pathetic excuse for a breakup i've ever heard.” your voice cracks and you gulp down the oncoming sob that’s threatening to explode from your throat.

he inhales slowly and makes his way to you, holding you close against his chest. you should push him away, but you would rather let him hug you. you know that you can’t fight him, anyway.

“you…once said you wanted a regular relationship. when you got hurt a few weeks ago, i realized i couldn’t be that for you,” he confesses lowly. “i knew that you’d never find it in yourself to leave, so i figured i should just let you go for your sa–”

“are you kidding me?” you shout incredulously. “i said that when i was fifteen, megumi! before i even knew what being in love was like!”

he flinches against you. “but i…”

“you and your damn savior complex! i don’t need to be in a regular, normal relationship! i don’t need any of that, megumi! i’m a sorcerer, I won't ever get to be normal! in fact, it’s even better that i’m with you because you at least know what this life is like, you idiot! you’re always ruining the good things in your life because you—”

he takes his fingers to grab your chin and he pulls you in for a kiss. if the kiss is a ploy to shut you up, you hate to admit that it’s working. his tongue slips into your mouth and you melt against him. your arms loop around his neck as you desperately drag him down closer to your body. his hand grip your waist while the other clings to the small of your back.

you whimper out of instinct and he pulls away, lips bruised and breathless. it’s been so long since you’ve tasted him and you frown, tiptoeing to capture his lips again. you need to savor him, to feel him lips against yours again.

“baby, wait.” his chest heaves as he looks down at you. “don’t…don’t do this to me.”

“do what?” you ask, an edge to your voice. did he just reject you? even after all that?

“w-we gotta report back to—”

“we’re supposed to leave tomorrow,” you interrupt.

the gears shift in his head. “fine, but—”

“i’m still really fucking mad, but i just need you to kiss me right now,” you whine impatiently.

all megumi does is laugh when he swoops down to press his lips against yours.

it’s december 24th when you two find yourselves in satoru’s office. steam is practically rising from your ears as you try to compose yourself in front of your former teacher.

“... i wanted a wedding invitation.” satoru shrugs.

“you set us up!” you whine angrily. “gojo, are you serious?! isn’t this a little immature?”

megumi stays silent, averting his gaze. he suddenly finds the succulents on satoru’s desk very interesting. he’s never noticed that they’re all nearly dead! how cool.

your eyes shoot daggers at megumi's silence.

"we aren't gonna get married any time soon..." megumi mutters when he feels your pointy glare on him.

satoru raises his hands in mock surrender. “you two can’t blame me! it worked out! you two are back together now, right?”

“but did you have to make us look like fools out there?” you groan.

“you should’ve figured it out on the first day that the mission was a sham!” satoru exclaims, offense taking over his features.

“but still!” you’re borderline hysterical at this point, unable to believe that your former teacher of all people had to set up an entire fake mission so that you and your ex could talk your feelings out. “we would’ve figured ourselves out sooner or later!”

megumi nods. he feels like he should at least give you a little support even if he’s embarrassed out of his mind.

“oh really?” satoru’s voice drips with sarcasm. “you guys should be thanking me—”

“you’re so not getting an invitation to our wedding!” you grumble.

“wha—hey! i’m the one that got you two back together! besides, i’m megumi’s guardian! you can’t just not invite me.”

“watch me!”

“megumi, tell her that she can’t do that—hey! where are you guys going? invite me, you rascals—why are you guys leaving? we aren’t done discussing this! megumi, don’t you dare take her side! she isn’t even your wife yet—don’t slam my door!”

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk megumi #megumi fluff #not my best work tbh

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pigcowboys · 11 months ago

Text

secret santa !

pairing: percy jackson x female!reader

summary: camp half-blood decides to do secret santa this year.

warning(s): pre-established relationship and kissing but, none, mostly!

a/n: merry (late) christmas to everyone who celebrates it!! this was supposed to be out on christmas day but.. uh yeah. this is slightly self-indulgent.

“you’re doing it right?” you asked, adjusting your position on your bunk bed as you tried your best to scrub out the nasty maroon stain you’d spilled onto the fabric.

it was almost christmas day and with that important birthday coming up, it meant only one thing for you, gift shopping. not that you hated it — honestly. it was just the idea of somehow disappointing your friends.

the stakes were higher this year considering the fact chiron had brought up the idea of doing a secret santa with the rest of the camp. everyone voted in agreement the idea — well, except for clovis but, to be fair he wasn’t conscious when the announcement was made.

soon after it was set in stone that the camp would be hosting its very first secret santa and then following that, everyone was assigned a partner.

piper got annabeth, annabeth got leo, leo got piper and somehow travis stoll had gotten clarisse. that last part was going to be interesting. you even got someone as well, too. not that it made you anxious at all, you loved gifting people presents — great at it, dare you say.

well, it was a bit easier to gift people presents when you didn’t have to worry about whether or not your gift would somehow make the person hate you and question why they even started dating you in the first place.

so, it was safe to say you weren’t especially overjoyed when you got percy as your secret santa. your mind went blank as you shifted to the side, allowing percy to slide past you to reach for his paper with his santa.

you eyed him curiously as he stared at the words on the paper indifferently before a smile flashed onto his face. he turned the paper so your eyes had access to it clearly, completely missing the moment when your heart dropped.

"we got each other," percy said, tucking the paper into his pocket. "that's lucky, right?" you merely laughed nervously in response.

"yeah, totally." not lucky, not lucky at all.

“everyone is,” annabeth started “why? are you changing your mind?” annabeth asked, causing you to frown slightly.

“well, no..i think.” you trailed off, eyebrows furrowing as you flung your sponge to the side. gods, you seriously hoped this would wash out after a while.

“i wouldn’t wanna spoil the fun.”

“plus, you’re curious about what your secret santa might’ve gotten you.” annabeth chimed in.

“that too.” you replied. "any idea what percy might have in mind?"

annabeth merely hummed in response leaving you even more conflicted than before. what if he gets you an amazing gift and all you get him is some crap that he'll say he loves, a fake smile on his face before dumping it somewhere in his cabin 'till the next secret santa.

you didn't want to be that girlfriend. you actively rebuke any allegations that may have even brought that idea up.

“i am so screwed.” you sobbed out, pressing your fingers against your face as you sighed dramatically.

“you have time, use it.” annabeth reminded you. she was right, it was only 2 days till christmas day and even then, secret santa wasn’t going to happen till later into the evening.

“just don’t use too much, shopping places are never open for late minute gifts.”

“right, okay..” you murmured out. "i have time."

those 2 days came and went sooner than you expected it to and by christmas day morning, you were frantically wrapping up percy’s gift, thoughts racing as you tried to not think about whether or not the gift would be cool enough for him.

he’s be happy with anything you got him, you knew that. didn’t make ease your mind any less, though. you stumbled out of your cabin as you rushed towards the decorated tree that was out near the forest, courtesy of the demeter kids.

to be honest, even if you liked christmas or disliked it, everyone could appreciate the effort put into decorating the tree. especially with all the presents stacked under - it added to the scene. you bent down, carefully placing it underneath the tree, not too close so that it would obviously stick out, but not too far that people would forget it was there.

this was a big camp, after all.

you'd made your way over the mess hall, scanning over it for any signs of percy before taking a plate and shoving food onto it. you spared a part for your godly parent and then made your way toward the table to sit with everyone else.

even with percy missing, the mess hall was still lively - believe it or not. everyone seemed to be talking lively about their gifts and what they were expecting, something that didn't ease your anxieties about your own gift.

it didn't help at all when your eyes finally settled on percy's own across the room, a small smile pulling on his face as he tended to his plate. your mind had been so zeroed in on worrying you hadn't even clued in on the fact he was walking over to you, taking a seat beside you.

"thanks for saving me a seat." you fought back a smile at the sound of his tired voice. he must've been knocked out sometime after sword practice. you hummed in response, fiddling with your food as your mind raced.

your eyes drifted towards percy as you watched him silently from the corner of your eyes. between the bed hair and the disheveled state of his clothes, it was safe to say that he had just woken up. despite the anxieties that swirled in your mind and the ansty fidgeting of your legs, you couldn't deny that percy was gorgeous.

though, it just brought your mind back to your dilemma. secret santa would happen right after dinner and then would be campfire time. how could you sit and sing songs at the campfire knowing percy had hated your gift?

"you're being stranger than usual, y'know."

"hm?" you turned to look at percy who gave you a quizzical look. "i'm acting completely normal."

"you've barely touched your food."

you stared down at your plate, it looked like a ghost had gently floated over it - devoid of human ingestion.

"i'm not hungry." you lied, slapping yourself mentally when your stomach growled deeply.

"mhm.." percy nodded along, trying to suppress the smile on his face. "what's wrong?" he asked, pushing his plate aside as he turned his whole body to face you, something that didn't go unnoticed by you as you locked eyes with him.

"just..thinking."

"about?"

you narrowed your eyes at him, ignoring the tingling in your chest as you watched him carefully. you really hoped he hadn't caught onto the fact you were just checking him out at this point, turning your face away in embarrassment as you rested your head on your elbows,

"stuff."

"what kind of stuff?"

"important stuff."

"like what?"

"percy, will you leave me alone!" a laugh, followed by his hand brushing against your back soothingly. you titled your head up to look at him as your head rested on your elbows.

"sorry, sorry." he smiled. "just hang in there, okay?" was all he whispered in your ear before moving back to press a sloppy kiss to your head that made your face scrunch in disgust.

"gross...you're so disgusting, percy.." you murmur, wiping the wet blotch of spit that was left on your forehead from the kiss.

"i love you too."

"what'd you think you got?" piper asked, shifting in her seat slightly as she waited for annabeth to respond.

"you're asking me like you don't know what i got." annabeth replied with a small smile.

"can't hurt to imagine."

you zoned out the rest of the conversation as you suppressed the urge to scream out of frustration. the camp chatted lively around you, cueing you in on the fact that you'd been cuddled up beside percy without once offering a word to him.

not that he minded, he was aware you wanted to be with your thoughts and he respected it. just..didn't feel very..couple appropriate. it felt like you'd been talking to yourself way more than the guy who was supposed to be your boyfriend.

"quiet down," chiron's voice rang through all the chatter, reducing the crowd to silence. he'd somehow managed to shimmy matching ugly christmas sweaters onto him and mr. d respectively. the image alone made you want to pull out your phone and snap a picture.

though, you decided against it, taking notice of the death glares mr.d had sent your way.

chiron announced that secret santa would be happening in a bit, receiving a series of cheers from some campers in the crowd. you shifted slightly in percy's hold, prompting him to look at you - a curious look on his face.

"you okay?"

"yeah, it's just kind of cold, i guess."

percy hummed in response before pulling you into him so you were resting against his chest. he rested his chin on your head with a small smile.

“is this better?” he whispered, to which you merely hummed in response, snuggling yourself against him as you tried to get comfortable. now, you weren’t a fan of those overly lovely couples that couldn’t keep their hands off each other in public but, you had to admit that being in percy’s arms felt more than good with the day you’ve had.

chiron continued on with his announcements, listing out the series of activities tomorrow and also stating as well that the stables would be closed on account of an “accident” that had happened in there. that part was received with a small shiver.

“that’s all i’d like to say, furthermore, I’d like to wish everyone a merry christmas.” then, chiron and mr.d stepped to the side as the festivities continued on.

it was time.

“wonder what everyone got.” you murmured, watching quietly as the rest of the campers hurried towards the tree decked out with over the top presents. percy stood up, offering you his hand as he locked them.

“me too.” percy agreed, sighing slightly. “gods, all i hope is that someone doesn’t make the mistake of gifting travis firecrackers ever again.”

“or a megaphone.”

“oh, yeah, i totally remember that year.”

“I’m sure everyone else does too..”

percy cracked a grin, one that cause your stomach to flutter slightly as you smiled back at him. he squeezed your hand before making short strides towards the rest of the campers.

you should’ve been anxious — you were anxious. though, your concerns seemed to slip away the longer you stayed with percy. the way he looked at you, it made you realize just one thing that you were sure a crummy present wasn’t going to change.

he loved you.

camp activities were fun and all but, extremely loud.

you’d figured it’d only been amplified by the fact that everyone was opening their christmas gifts and comparing what they’d gotten from each of their respective partners.

you could respect that, secret santa was no joke.

yet, you’d still managed to slip away with percy while none of the adults were watching in favorite of opening your gifts in the company of one another rather than the rest of the camp. and judging by the sputters of stars in the night sky illuminating percy and your faces, it was a good call.

“you think they’ll be mad at us for ditching everyone else?” you asked, clutching your present to your chest as you adjusted your winter coat.

“we’ll be back before they know it,” percy replied, turning to face you with a smile. he was always smiling. “and anyways, everyone else would be too busy with their presents to care.”

you sighed, taking a seat next to percy as you rested his gift in-front of you. percy turned to look at you with an anxious look on his face as he cleared his throat, holing his hand out as he waited for you to take the gift from him.

you looked back at him, nerves set ablaze as well as you exchanged your gifts, resting the wrapped present in your lap as you ogled the festive paper.

“so, truth be told — i’m pretty nervous.” percy blurred out of the blue.

“gods, i’m so glad you said that cause, i so was too.” you sighed softly, your heartbeat stilling for the first time this night as you shifted your body so you were turned towards percy. “i really wanted my gift to special and.. i feel like if it isn’t you’d like hate me or something.”

“i could never hate you.”

you paused for a moment. it’d only be a few years since you’d started to date percy, you should’ve been more used to his personality. yet, it never seemed to catch you off guard when he said these kind of sentimental things.

“even if i got you like..a smelly sock for christmas?”

percy laughed before shaking his head. you bite the inside of your mouth, frowning slightly as your face grew hot.

“sorry, i’ve been so quiet tonight.” you averted percy’s gaze, picking at the clear taping of your present. “it’s just — I don’t know, i guess i was lost in my own head.”

percy watched you quietly, leaning forward to cup your cheek as he planted a soft kiss to your lips, pulling back to stare you head on in your eyes.

“don’t apologize for something like that, it’s fine — really.” percy replied, his voice soft and careful. it made your body feel warm.

“if you want, you could open my gift first,” he added, moving his hand to rest atop yours. “that way you won’t be so nervous.”

you smiled, a genuine one. “that or your gift will be so amazing that it makes mine look horrible.” percy grinned back at you.

“let’s see.”

you nodded, turning to stare down the gift in your lap before you started to unravel it. it wasn’t a particularly big present, not that you minded at all. anything from percy was something to treasure. you moved the packaging to the side carefully as you stared at the small box that hit behind it.

it wasn’t cardboard, more like.. leather? or silk. and it was blue — percy’s trademark. you looked to him with a curious look on your face before turning back to gaze at the small box. you let your finger glide over the material once more before you opened it.

“percy..?” you mumbled out, voice barely a whisper.

inside the box contained a small ring that looked to be just about the size of your ring finger. your heart dropped at the sight of it — in a good way. it was pretty, careful patterns etched into that showed that it was finely crafted. and at the center of it, a small gem that was the same shade of your favorite color.

the cherry on top.

your eyes started to water involuntarily as your lips trembled. you were at a loss for words, how could you say anything? you stared at percy in shock as you tried to grasp the right words to say, eventually coming up with the idea to not say any words at all, leaning forward as you pulled him into a tight hug.

percy hugged back immediately, burying his head into your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you gently.

you pulled back to look at him, tears pooling down your face as he wiped them away with his thumb, pressing a kiss to your tear stained cheeks.

“you’re..you’re totally insane for being nervous.” you managed out, laughing slightly as you choked back a sob. “how did you get the money to pay for this?”

“i saved up!” he replied brightly, a proud smile flashing on his face. your shoulders trembled as a warm laugh broke through your lips, causing percy to flush slightly in your hold.

“thank you so much percy.” you whispered, moving your hand to rest on his cheek as you spoke. “you really didn’t have to get me something like this.”

“it’s all fine.” he replied calmly. “it’s you were talking about, y’know.” your face burned with embarrassment as you smiled uncontrollably, pulling percy in for a deeper kiss.

you pulled away from him, watching quietly as percy took the small blue box you’d placed on the floor beside you and opening it. he held the promise ring in his hand, gently taking your own as he slid the ring on carefully. you watched him quietly before press another kiss to his face.

then another, and another.

and before you knew it, you were peppering kisses all over his face, taking the small giggles he emitted from his lips as a sign to do even more than before. percy managed your name out though his giggles, fingers digging into your winter coat as he tried to pry you off of him.

“the — gift!” he giggled, shutting his eyes tightly as you pressed another kiss to the bridge of his nose. “what about — your gift?”

“another time.” was all you whispered as you slid the gift away, focusing in on making sure you’d filled every single spot off percy’s with the feeling of your lips.

safe to say percy hadn’t gotten to see what you’d gotten him till a little later into the night.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #x reader #x reader fluff #pjo fluff

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starvity · 11 months ago

Text

— ☆ zb1 reacting to being pushed with their (crush) best friend under the mistletoe

gn!reader x zb1 (ot9)

genre: fluff, drabble // warnings: kissing and flirting ofc, mention of food in yujin's (ps: his is not as romantic because i just thought it was more appropriate that way!!)

author’s note: happy holidays and merry christmas to those who celebrate!! here is my little gift for you <3 (★ω★)/

ੈ✩‧₊˚ jiwoong

probably stares into your soul like sooo when are we kissing… he’s pretty casual about it, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and smiling softly, waiting for you to give him the green light. when you do kiss though he’s super giggly and he will be clingy for the rest of the evening.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ zhang hao

he is so nonchalant about it. will tease you about how you planned all this just because you were dying to kiss him so bad (he is just trying to take your attention away from his red ears). when your hands cup his face he immediately freezes though, his eyes not being able to leave your lips as you lean in.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ hanbin

hanbin just naturally smiles a lot but after he gets pushed under the mistletoe with you he would just be giggling uncontrollably. he reassures you that you don’t have to do anything if it makes you uncomfortable but he’s still holding onto your hand, hoping that you would close the gap between you and him.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ matthew

matthew will panic so much, immediately tackling his friends who pushed him towards you. the embodiment of ahah i won't kiss my best friend, are you crazy!!!!! unless.... *curious gaze*. will try to brush it off if you seem too nervous or uncomfortable but if you definitely show him that you want him, he will not hesitate to cup your cheeks and pull you closer.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ taerae

he is so serious about it, immediately puckering his lips and leaning in (cue that bbangiz live). taerae looks so invested and expressionless that you think it's a joke so when you start laughing he's like okay lol but when are we kissing? if you want to make him blush, play the same game as him. if you flirt back he will immediately panic and run away hehe

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ricky

rizzy will flirt back OF COURSE (i am not calling him that ever again). he's so gentle though, one hand in yours and the other on your waist, slowly pulling you closer while analysing if he sees any sign of discomfort from your side. after your lips touch though, he goes full on lovelicky mode; blushing cheeks, giggles and reddish lips.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gyuvin

gyuvin is literally the O_O emoji. his big round eyes telling you everything about the chaos that is going on in his mind at that moment. oh if you want to make him melt, grab him by the collar of his shirt to make him duck down to your height and kiss his nose. there you have him wrapped around your finger and 3 seconds won't even pass before he picks you up to kiss you properly.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gunwook

gunwook is ready to risk it all to be honest. probably chuckles a little, dropping a flirty comment or two to test the mood before he casually pecks the top of your head. you wrap your arms around his neck and he thinks that you are just going in for a hug so when you softly peck his mouth, his cheeks turn a bright shade of red.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yujin

glares at whoever pushed him towards you, hands reaching for a chip in the bag he was eating, followed by a deep sigh. you immediately take the opportunity to tease yujin, poking his rosy cheeks with your finger before you get cut off by him shoving a chip into your mouth. you two will end up making fun of each other during the entire party, while fully aware that your friendship took quite a different turn that night.

#starvity.text #zerobaseone #zb1 #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone drabbles #zerobaseone reactions #zerobaseone fluff #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 reactions #zb1 drabbles #zb1 scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop drabble #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff

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bookyeom · 11 months ago

Text

A/N: Merry Christmas to all who celebrate, and a special Merry Christmas to my boo @gyuminusone. This is my Christmas gift to you!! I hope you have the best holiday, M! Sending love across the country!!!

Parties and Pickup Lines

Pairing: Mingyu x Reader Genre: friends to lovers Rating: PG (because of the swearing.. i think that's the only reason? also alcohol consumption) Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: kissing, alcohol consumption, reader & squad celebrate Christmas somewhat traditionally (Westernized)? Um... there's a kiss and some swearing also

“Mingyu.” You drag out the last syllable of his name, aggressively dropping your head against his arm as he continues to carry on conversation with Joshua, your host for the evening. He had hosted a dinner party that, in true Joshua Hong fashion, was full of expensive and foreign wines. It was great, but now you’re sufficiently tipsy, tired, and ready to go home, and Mingyu and Joshua just won’t shut up.

“Are you giving her a ride?” Joshua nods in your direction and you narrow your eyes at him from your place against Mingyu’s side. All he does is smile back.

“Yeah,” Mingyu responds with a dramatic sigh, and you can feel him shift as he turns to look down at you. You want to lift your head to glare up at him, but you’re tired.

“Of course you are,” Joshua quips. “Don’t know why I even asked.” He’s teasing, and you can’t see Mingyu’s reaction, but you imagine he uses his free hand to flip the other man off.

You’re used to it — the way everyone teases you and Mingyu. Sure, you’re a little bit in love with him, but isn’t everyone? Sure, you’re always together, and you take care of each other, and sure, every time he looks at you, or smiles at you, or laughs because of you, you feel yourself falling just that little bit more. Sure, the two of you might be on the edge of something more than friends, but you don’t know what, and you don’t know how to get there.

All you know is that right now, you want to go home.

Mingyu finally stands up from the couch, pulling you with him while bidding farewell to an amused Joshua. As he tugs you by the hand through the apartment towards the door, he calls out goodbyes to everyone you pass. You somehow manage a few hugs and waves yourself before you reach the exit, where Mingyu hands you your coat, and then you’re finally out in the fresh air.

“Our Uber is two minutes away,” he informs you.

You nod and regretfully let go of his hand, pulling your gloves from your coat pocket and squinting down at your fingers as you clumsily put them on. You can feel him watching you as you wait, and you meet his eyes. The corner of his mouth turns up when you catch him looking, and you can’t help but stick your tongue out at him.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you manage — quite smoothly if you do say so yourself — but all he does is smile bigger.

“I have lots of those.”

You gasp. “Blackmail is a crime.”

He ignores you and looks away, eyes scanning the road for your ride as he says, “It’s not my fault that you’re so nice to take pictures of.”

You stare at him, and even in your tipsy state, you feel it again — the overwhelming affection that blooms in your chest. You want to push him on it, you want to know, but for the millionth time, you can’t seem to get the words out. So you say nothing as your Uber arrives and drives the two of you back to your place.

Your apartment is basically Mingyu’s second home, and the same goes for you with his. “It’s just easier, convenient to know someone on the other side of town when you need to crash,” is the excuse you tend to use the most. You never say that it has a lot more to do with the way he looks in your kitchen in the morning as he makes your coffee, or the way he always makes you take his bed while he sleeps on the couch, or the way he knows exactly where you keep the popcorn for movie nights.

He knows where you keep everything else, too — makeup remover included.

“I personally don’t care if you take your makeup off or not,” Mingyu points out from his spot by your bathroom door, “but you are going to care in the morning, and I am going to be on the receiving end of your wrath if I don’t make you do it now.”

“Well then, help me,” you say, and it comes out as a whine. You’re too tired to care, and you say as much. You miss the way Mingyu’s entire being softens when you pout dejectedly, exhausted, and lean back against the mirror from where you sit on the counter. He lets out a dramatic sigh, but you know you’ve won when he moves to stand in front of you.

“Sit up,” he instructs, reaching over your shoulder to open the cupboard above the mirror as you do what he says. He’s careful not to hit your head with the door as he takes out your makeup wipes, doting as always. You watch as he opens the package while you sit there waiting, eyes intent on him and his movements. You try to stay still as he lifts a hand to your face, holding your breath as he gently begins to clean your makeup off. His free hand lifts to your chin to steady you after a moment, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You wish you could blame the alcohol for the intense desire you feel to just… kiss him, but it’s not the first time, and you’re sure it won’t be the last.

You realize it again, then, as you watch him — that your feelings for him run so irrevocably deep.

You don’t know how long it takes as he stands between your legs, thoroughly cleansing your face with gentle motions. Once or twice, he catches you staring; the first time, he teases you, and the second, he pulls a face that’s meant to make you laugh (it works). When he announces that he’s done, adding on something about how grateful you should be for his hard work as he leans down to find your trash can, you can’t help it.

Your hands have a mind of their own. As soon as he straightens from throwing the cloth into the trash, they gently find his face, and he stills. He doesn’t pull away. He just waits, eyes wide and imploring, and you let his silence spur you on. You don’t say anything as you begin to map his features out with your fingertips, and you can feel his eyes on you the entire time. The high of his cheekbones, the beauty mark on the very edge of his nose; his mouth, lips softly parting as you brush over them, barely noticing the breath he’s holding as you do.

“You are so beautiful,” is what finally breaks the silence. “I think about you and how beautiful you are all the time.” It’s you that says it, and it takes you a second to register that you said it out loud. You vaguely register an alarm going off in your brain, a loud fuck! Fuck! Fuck! in quick succession, but you don’t take it back, because it’s true.

Mingyu blinks, staring back at you for a few moments before he finally looks away.

“Thank you,” he says as he grasps onto your wrists to pull your hands away from his face. “And you’re drunk.”

“Both of these things can be true,” you quip, and he lets out a laugh at that.

“Come on, brush your teeth. I’m not doing that part for you.”

A week passes, and you’re not avoiding Mingyu, per se, but you’re not not avoiding him, either.

The morning after your slip-up, when you wake up sober and embarrassed, you think maybe you’ve fucked up your friendship for good. You get a text from him, explaining that he’d gone to the gym and that he’d text you later, and all seems relatively normal — everything except for the fact that you’d blatantly ogled him and called him beautiful to his face the night before. He doesn’t say anything else about it.

Throughout the week, his texts seem to be coming in slower and fewer, though you imagine that might have something to do with the short and accidentally-on-purpose delayed responses from you. He hasn’t asked, and you’re grateful. Thankfully, your work had actually been a welcome distraction in the daytime since you were rapidly approaching a deadline. You had only needed to fill your evenings so that you weren’t thinking about him. Today is Friday though, and that means another work week is over — and another holiday festivity is waiting for you at Seokmin’s.

Unfortunately, your feelings for one of your closest friends are waiting for you there, too.

You don’t know if it’s better or worse that Mingyu is already a few drinks deep when you arrive.

He greets you at the door as if the place is his own, ushering you in before pulling you in for a bone-crushing hug. You sink into him, eyes squeezing shut briefly before he pulls away, eyes bright as he holds you by the biceps.

“Hi!” He beams. “I missed you.”

That thing in your chest shifts and jumps around as he smiles at you. You are my favourite person in the entire world, you think. And I have no idea what to do about it.

“I missed you, too.”

You had wondered if Mingyu would notice the space you’d taken from him over the week, the space you’d needed to try and gather your feelings, but if he had, he doesn’t show it. He’s just Mingyu, who stays close to you the whole night while remaining the life of the party. Tonight, he doesn’t comment when you don’t return his physical touches or flirtations. You wonder if it’s because of the alcohol or just how excited he is at the idea of Christmas being so close — because Mingyu usually notices everything, especially when it comes to you.

You finally get a reprieve when he’s called into the kitchen to help clean up a spill, and you let out a sigh as you sink further into the couch cushions. You would never have the heart to ask him for the space you need, not when you know how affectionate he always is, but at least you can breathe a little right now. He hasn’t said a word all night about last weekend, and you’re not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

“Gyu said you had a busy week. You okay?”

You’re startled when Seokmin plops down next to you.

“Yeah,” you affirm, smiling tiredly over at your friend. “But the project is finally over now.”

“Congrats!” Seokmin lifts his glass in a toast, and you lift your wine glass to clink it with his. His eyebrows furrow as he eyes your drink. “Isn’t that the exact same amount of wine you had an hour ago?”

“No.”

You’ve never been a good liar.

“What’s up? You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want it, obviously. No sober shame here.”

You laugh at that. “Yeah, thanks, Seok. I know.”

He continues to look at you, and you wish this was one of those times that Seokmin decided to let something go, but you’re not so lucky. Curse him for loving his people so much.

“You sure everything’s okay?”

You get distracted when your eyes catch a glimpse of Mingyu as he pops his head out of the kitchen to call for Seungcheol, and they linger on the doorframe long after he’s gone.

“Ah.”

“Hm?” You turn back to Seokmin, cheeks flushing at being caught.

Instead of teasing like you’d expected, Seokmin’s smile is gentle. “You should tell him.”

You almost drop your wine. “Seokmin—“

You don’t get a chance to say anything else because Mingyu reappears over the back of the couch, his arms lazily hanging around Seokmin’s shoulders as he rests his cheek on the other boy’s head.

“Can we go home? I’m tired,” he pouts.

You don’t hesitate for a second.

You stand up with a nod, all wariness from the moment in your bathroom last weekend flying out the window as you take his hand. Because this is what the two of you do. He takes care of you, and you take care of him. No questions asked.

“Bye, Seok,” you offer, and he sends you another smile as he lifts his glass. “Thanks for hosting.” He glances between the two of you, at your joined hands, and you shrug with a sad smile before turning to leave.

The walk to Mingyu’s from Seokmin’s isn’t very long. It’s cold, but you’ll manage. You feel warm all over from the way he refuses to let go of your hand, anyway.

“I love Christmas.”

You smile over at Mingyu, who’s been fairly quiet since you left Seokmin’s apartment.

“I know.” You squeeze the hand he has attached to yours, and he smiles back. You ignore the ache in your chest at the sight of it.

It’s quiet for another few minutes as you walk slowly down the sidewalk before he speaks again, pulling you to a stop and catching you entirely off guard with his words.

“What does Santa say to Mrs. Claus when she dresses up nice?”

You hold back a laugh. “What does he say, Gyu? Tell me.”

He giggles, and then with a wiggle of his eyebrows, he leans in close and he says, “‘Ho ho ho-ly shit, you look good’.”

“Incredible. Great joke.” You tug on his hand, hoping he’ll decide to keep following you — because you’re not getting his ass anywhere without him wanting to go — but he plants his feet even more and shakes his head.

“Wait,” he whines, “hang on. I’m Santa!”

You snort. “Of course you are,” you try to appease, gesturing for him to start walking. To your relief, he finally takes a few steps, but his hold on your hand only gets tighter.

“No,” he pouts, and you almost groan as he pulls you to a stop again. “I mean, I’m Santa in this story! And you’re Mrs. Claus!”

“Gyu, I’m not following. And it’s cold—“

“‘Ho ho ho-ly shit, you look good’,” he repeats the punchline, but this time, he uses his free hand to emphasize your outfit. “Do you get it now? I’m Santa and I’m saying that to you!”

You blink as you process. A pickup line?

All night, you’d managed to avoid… this, for the most part, because people were around and he was busy. Now, it’s just the two of you. Your body feels warm all over at the silly flirtation, at the insinuation, and you’re not sure how to respond. You don’t even get a chance to open your mouth, though, before he’s speaking again.

“I don’t care what Santa says… you’re at the top of my nice list.” He winks, pulling you in closer to him so quickly that you stumble a little. It’s freezing outside, but you suddenly feel far too warm.

“Can we please go home?”

Mingyu begins to giggle, and you half think he’s going to kiss you as he leans in. Then his forehead is falling into the crook of your shoulder, laughing into your scarf, arms sliding around your middle. You can’t do anything but hug him back while he calms down, your cheeks burning, until he stands up straight again and nods, smile still on his lips.

“I’m sleepy.”

You don’t know how you make it the rest of the way, but you do. When you arrive, you head into the bathroom to try and compose yourself.

“Hey!” Mingyu says abruptly, startling you when you exit his bathroom. He’s got his phone in his hands and he squints down at it, giggling to himself before meeting your expectant gaze. “Are you the Grinch?”

You blink. “Pardon?”

“Because you’ve stolen my heart.”

You groan, ignoring the tingling feeling that shoots through your entire body at the stupid line. “Get changed,” you order, turning around to give him — and yourself — some space. “Where the hell are you getting these from?”

“From my brain,” he attempts. When you don’t say anything, he admits, “from Soonyoung.”

“Can you tell Soonyoung to shut up so we can go to sleep?”

“We?”

You turn back in surprise to find him already in his bed, sheets pulled up around his waist. He’s beaming.

“Yeah,” you stammer, “you in here and me out there.” You jut your thumb in the direction of the living room, and Mingyu pouts again.

“Oh. Well, hang out with me in here for a bit longer, then.”

“Fine. Fifteen minutes.” You cave, moving to sit next to him on the bed, leaving as much space between you as you can.

Mingyu isn’t having any of it, though, as he rolls over and snuggles into your side. He holds up his phone, giggling, canines on full display as he wiggles his brows, before he says, “Mind if we take a picture? I need to show Santa exactly what I want for Christmas.”

“Remind me to kill Soonyoung for this.”

“Rude.” Mingyu is suddenly pouting, the change so quick that it takes you a second to process. “I asked him to send them. I wanted to tell them to you.”

Oh.

“I’m going to go to sleep,” is what you respond with, praying that he doesn’t notice how flushed your cheeks are as you stand up.

He catches you by surprise though, his fingers reaching for yours as he speaks, gently closing around them in an attempt to keep you close. “How come you won’t talk to me about it?”

You tilt your head in question. “Hm? Talk to you about what, Gyu?”

His eyebrows furrow, and his frown deepens. With a tug, he’s pulled you back onto the bed next to him, his arm thrown over your legs as he presses his face into your side. You let yourself tangle your fingers in his hair, just one more time.

“This,” he murmurs, squeezing you gently on your thigh.

“Huh?”

You can feel it when he hums against you. “Us.”

Your hand stills its motions against his scalp, and the blood rushes to your ears.

“I’ve given you so much space,” he continues, his voice so sad that your heart sinks even lower. “And I don’t know what else to do.”

“Mingyu—“

“Do you like me?” He interrupts, sitting up abruptly. His honey eyes are piercing as he asks it, as he delves as deep into your soul as he can go. You can tell he’s sobered up quite a bit as he looks at you, as he waits for your answer.

“Yeah, I do,” you finally say. It’s quiet, soft, but he hears you.

Mingyu tilts his head, voice low as he presses on. “And do you really think I’m beautiful?”

You feel your cheeks flush even deeper. “You are.”

Mingyu sits back, shoulders suddenly deflating. “Then why won’t you talk to me about it? Why do you keep it to yourself?” He looks away before he adds, quietly, “I don’t want to keep it to myself anymore.”

His name comes out in a whisper. “Mingyu…”

He sighs, falling back down onto his bed and throwing an arm over his eyes. “Y/N,” he mumbles back.

You’re frozen. Your mind is racing, heart stumbling over itself as you search for the right words. You can’t find them. “Goodnight,” you say softly.

Mingyu nods, but he doesn’t look at you again as he responds, rolling over and away from you. “Goodnight.”

Needless to say, you don’t sleep very well.

Y/N [9:13am]: morning

Y/N [9:13am]: I had to go home to prepare for Jeonghan’s party. I didn’t want to wake you up

Gyu [9:47am]: you should have woken me up.

Gyu [9:52am]: I’ll see you there

You’re a bundle of nerves when you reach Jeonghan’s, every nerve standing on edge as you try and prepare yourself to see Mingyu. You know that tonight is the night – you can’t ignore what’s happening, not when he means so much.

You greet the rest of your friends, trying to play it cool. You follow Chan into the apartment and to the table, freezing when you catch sight of Mingyu. He’s got on an ugly, green Christmas sweater with bells attached, and his hair is gently falling across his forehead as he chats to Jeonghan. Everyone turns as you walk in, but your eyes can do nothing but find him first. All he does when he sees you is raise his glass in your direction in acknowledgement, before he’s turning back to his conversation. It hurts, but you can’t say you don’t deserve it.

I don’t want to keep it to myself anymore.

His words replay in your mind over dinner and during the entire movie afterwards, where you happen to somehow be sat across from and beside anyone but Mingyu. It’s funny, you think, how you’re finally ready to face this, and you can’t even get close to him tonight.

The entire night, you can feel him watching you from across the room. Every time you look back, he just smiles a bit and looks away. He doesn’t go out of his way to try to come find you, and you can’t say that doesn’t hurt. Should you have stayed this morning? Should you have talked about it? Probably.

You miss him, but he’s in the same room.

I don’t want to keep it to myself anymore.

You know you have to be the one to initiate this time – you know that he was vulnerable with you yesterday. It’s your turn now.

When the movie ends, Mingyu is the first to start cleaning up. You follow him into the kitchen, ignoring the stares from your friends as you practically trip over yourself to get to him.

“Mingyu.”

He turns around from where he’s placing dishes in the sink in surprise. “Hey.”

You take a deep breath, debating starting with small talk – but you can’t do it. “Will you come outside with me?”

His hands stop halfway to the sink when you blurt the words out, abrupt, and you hold your breath. You don’t know if you’re imagining how tense he is. You hate this. You’re sure you’re about to be sick when he doesn’t respond for a moment, before he nods and dries his hands off on a towel.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

When you step outside, the awkward silence continues. Then the two of you are speaking at once.

“Mingyu, I need to—“

“We should—“

You let out a nervous laugh, biting down on your lip, and gesture for him to go first. He looks down, kicking at the ground with his boot, but your eyes are rooted to his face. Snowflakes are getting stuck in his hair as they fall, his lip drawn between his teeth, and you can’t look away.

“Did you mean what you said last night?”

Your heart leaps into your throat. “I was the sober one, Gyu. Of course I do.” you try to joke to lighten the mood, but he doesn’t take the bait.

“Did you say it just to shut me up, then?” His eyes fly to yours again, piercing. He’s tense, jaw clenched as he waits, and your stomach flips.

“Why would I do that, Mingyu?”

He shrugs. Then he shoves his hands into his pockets, the bells on his ugly Christmas sweater chiming as he does, and you’d laugh if you didn’t instantly recognize his reaction for what it is: a defence mechanism. A defence mechanism to protect him from you. You can practically feel your heart begin to shatter.

“If you meant it,” he says, voice soft and low, “then say it again.”

“Mingyu—“

You’re caught by surprise when he takes a step forward, cutting you off as he says, “I like you, and I need you to say it back right now if you meant what you said. If you don’t, I’ll never bring it up again, but I’m not going to keep guessing how you feel about me.”

“Of course I meant it.” The words come out so quickly, so desperately that you stumble over them a little. “I really, really like you, Mingyu. So much that I feel sick to my stomach about it sometimes.”

Another step closer. “So why did you leave this morning?” He doesn’t sound angry anymore. His voice is soft, almost uncertain. It’s you that closes the final step.

Your arms wrap around his waist and you pull him in tight, face muffled against his coat as you murmur, “I’m terrified about what this means for us.”

He moves back just enough to see you, hands finding your face. “What are you so scared of?”

“I don’t know.”

“I like you,” he says again, eyes intent on yours. Your eyes flutter shut as he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. “And you like me.”

You nod, your hands lifting to rest on his chest. “Yeah,” you whisper.

“I know you better than anyone else.”

You open your eyes, leaning back so that you can look at him this time. “You’re my favourite person in the world,” you say, and you watch as his smile begins to grow. You feel all sorts of giddy, fingers grasping the material of his coat tighter as he beams down at you.

“Yeah?” He teases, and your eyes fly to his mouth.

“Mhm.”

His expression grows serious again, eyes flickering across your face as he asks, “Do you want to give this a shot, then?”

You hope the kiss you press to his lips answers his question well enough.

A/N: please please please reblog if you liked! it's what us writers rely on :)

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joelscurls · 11 months ago

Text

a heart for melting

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: post-outbreak, implied age gap, themes surrounding child loss and grief, some angst but mostly festive fluff, grumpy x sunshine dynamics (Joel is a grinch & reader loves the holidays), reader is described as having long-ish hair

summary: Jackson's first annual Holiday Market brings about more than just cheer.

a/n: Merry Christmas @thetriumphantpanda; I'm your pedrostories secret santa! I hope you enjoy this lil festive take on grumpy!joel x sunshine!reader — I had lots of fun writing it 🤍🎄 🥧 🪵 🦌

Joel doesn’t want to be here — surrounded by garland and ribbons and so much unadulterated joy, it’s nauseating. No, he was forced to be here.

Please, Ellie had begged, it’ll be good for you to do something other than patrol or drinking with Tommy. Plus, they’re too good to keep to yourself.

They, being wood carvings — the tiny sculptures of deer and bears and birds, tufts of hair and bunches of feathers drawn out of driftwood with the tip of his blade. It was only ever meant to be a hobby, a way to busy his hands after they’d been wrapped around the cold metal of his rifle all day. Something lighter, creative rather than destructive, an act of giving rather than taking.

But sharing them with other people? He hadn’t been interested. Maybe he’d make one for Ellie or Tommy. Wrap it up in a piece of cloth and offer it as a gift for their birthday.

Not that he thought they were any good, really.

With the announcement of Jackson’s first annual Holiday Market, though, came Ellie’s pleading. “I’ll help you,” she’d bargained. “You don’t even have to give me anything!”

“Who said I would anyway?” he’d grumbled, digging his spoon into the bottom of his bowl of stew and sifting out a chunk of meat.

Joel despises the Holiday Season. He’d welcomed its disappearance with the end of the world. Because he had no reason to celebrate, with Sarah gone. Her absence stung like salt in an open wound on any normal day. But on Christmas, memories of her hanging her favorite ornaments on the tree and sneaking one of the cookies baked for Santa burned behind his eyelids. Left him heaving through hot tears.

The holidays had no place in his world, but they certainly had a place in Jackson. The first time he and Ellie had strode through those gates, they’d been met with that damned Christmas Tree, towering over the settlement like a beacon. And he hated it, hated the way it brought about that pounding in his chest and that spinning in his head.

How could anyone find any good in such a poignant reminder of loss?

Tommy says it’s about new beginnings, finding ways to be happy again. And what’s happier ‘n Christmas? God damn Santa Clause, hot chocolate, children singin’ carols?

Still, Joel isn’t convinced — not yet.

Standing across the mess hall, at your table piled high with baked goods, you are far too cheerful. You’re humming some song with a jovial beat, absentmindedly swaying as you rearrange rows of gingerbread and muffins and scones — all of which are draped in white icing, like flocking on Christmas trees. You pause to wish a happy holiday to everyone who passes through.

Joel knows he’s seen you before, flitting in and out of the community’s kitchen, always with that signature smile scrawled across your face.

And god, you’re so bubbly, taking to everyone you meet like a bee to honey, letting them in without a care in the world. Popping from table to table, making sure they have enough to eat. That they’re doing well.

It shouldn’t surprise him that you’re so…spirited, too. You seem to find the good in everyone and everything, after all.

It infuriates him, nonetheless.

Joel groans to himself. Stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans as an elderly couple rounds on him.

He grumbles a hello to them when they approach. They offer him half-smiles in return, beginning to pick up some of the carvings laid out on the table — turning them, inspecting them.

“This one’s nice,” the man says to his wife. She hums in agreement.

“You got any tigers?” the man asks.

“Tigers?”

“Yeah — I used to love ‘em as a kid.”

“Got what’s on the table,” Joel grumbles.

“You make ‘em custom? I can offer some homemade jam in return — elderberry.”

Joel sighs in annoyance.

“Don’t make ‘em custom. Got what I got.”

The man seems defeated, nodding and walking off without another word. The woman follows closely behind.

Just as they leave, Ellie appears. She sidles up to Joel and shrugs her jacket off. Pulls a chair up next to him.

“There’s so much cool shit here!” she exclaims, too loud. A judgemental set of eyes flit her direction. She glares right back at them.

“Do you mind?” Joel huffs, jaw ticking.

“Jesus, who pissed in your Cheerios?”

“How do you even know what Cheerios are?”

“Don’t,” she admits. “I read it in a book.”

“Of course you did.”

Ellie leans back in her chair, pulling an apple out of her backpack and biting into it. She shuffles some of the carvings around on the table. “Gotta fill in these gaps, man,” she says, juice dribbling down her chin.

Joel ignores her. He sneaks a glance at you; finds that you’re already looking. Your expression is unreadable, gaze unmoving as he studies you.

Despite your upbeat disposition bothering him, he can’t deny that you’re gorgeous: bright, beckoning eyes, siren-like smile — it’s like you’re peering into his soul.

He didn’t think he still had one of those.

“Dude.” Ellie nudges him. He peels his eyes from you reluctantly. “I asked how many takers you’ve had.”

“Uh.” He pretends to think.

“You have no fucking idea, do you? Too busy staring at that girl.”

“Wasn’t starin’,” he clips defensively.

“No? Well she’s coming over here, man.”

Sure enough, you’re striding right toward him, abandoning your post. Joel barely has time to prepare for impact.

He unconsciously straightens up and pulls his hands out of his pockets. He brushes them on his jeans just as you stop in front of his table.

“Hi there,” you say.

“Hi!” Ellie chimes.

You pick up a carving of a two-headed deer. His favorite.

“This is beautiful,” you coo. “The craftsmanship is lovely.” You’re running a finger along the grooves in the wood, holding the piece delicately in the palm of your hand — as if it’s made of glass, not wood. “You have a real gift…”

“Joel.”

“Joel,” you repeat. He ignores how sweet his name sounds coming out of your mouth. You tell him your name, and it fits you, he thinks. It’s pretty.

“How long have you been making them?”

“Just since I got to Jackson. ‘ts somethin’ to pass the time.”

You nod. Continue scanning over the intricacies of the deer. “I was never much of a baker before I got here, either,” you joke, gesturing back toward your table.

“Good one,” Ellie laughs. “You’re funny — isn’t she funny, Joel?”

In his head, he’s glowering at her. Outwardly, he feigns amusement.

“Real funny.”

“I’d love to see how you make these sometime,” you say, then, placing the deer back on the table gingerly. “Do you have a workshop?”

“In our shed,” Ellie pipes in before he can say anything. “You should come by tomorrow! Joel’s off patrol.”

He shoots her daggers. She pretends not to notice.

“I’d love that! I have to work in the kitchen, though. I could come by after?”

Joel starts to shake his head no. Ellie’s hand wraps around his arm like a vice grip. He stills.

“Sure,” he grits.

“I can bring some pastries, if you’d like.”

“Don’t like sweets.”

“Oh,” you say, a little thwarted, but you’re undeterred. You shift on your feet. Chew your bottom lip. “Well, how about something not sweet, then?”

Your brows lift, narrowed eyes on him as you await a response. Joel still isn’t thrilled about the prospect of a visitor. Really, he doesn’t like anyone on his property that isn’t Ellie, or Tommy and Maria if he’s invited them. But you don’t seem so bad, offering to bring him food.

He can probably deal with your sunny disposition in exchange for a full belly. Lord knows he went too long without that luxury, and he’d be a fool to deny himself of it ever again.

So, he agrees, the garbled sure less than enthusiastic leaving his mouth. Still, you don’t seem too offended. In fact, you smirk at him, wordlessly sauntering back to your table, sneaking glances at him every so often for the remainder of the afternoon.

Sure enough, the next evening, while Joel is whittling in the shed, you show up.

You’re wielding a basket of savory hand pies, as promised, and Joel has to stop himself from drooling. They smell incredible. And they’re still warm, somehow, steam wafting off of them even after your walk here.

“Come in,” he gruffs, his nose following the scent like a dog’s as he trails behind you inside.

His set up is minimal: a rocking chair next to a bench, a couple stools he made for when Tommy comes by to play poker. But his works are scattered throughout, every surface in the small room cluttered with little carvings.

He settles atop one of the stools as you begin to wander around the room, plucking sculptures off shelves and awing at them with such genuine admiration, it causes something to pull in his chest.

Every so often, you make a remark about the details in a piece, how the fur on the deer looks real, how you can practically smell the replica evergreen in your grasp.

And something shifts — carried by your kind words through the stuffy shed.

Taken by the slight lilt in your voice when you speak to him, the almost-shy smile that pulls at the corners of your lips — Joel is attracted to you.

He’s following the line of your neck down to your collarbone, ogling at the exposed skin there when you pick another carving up off the shelf. And he feels guilty — he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. You’re just being nice, being neighborly, and he’s gawking at you like you’d have any interest in him.

No; you’re young, beautiful, could do a lot better than an old grump like him.

He averts his gaze quickly when you suddenly set down the tiny, carved bird that had been in your palm, round the workbench and perch yourself atop the stool next to his. You retrieve a handpie out of the basket and pass it over to him.

“It has braised rabbit and carmelized onions in it,” you explain, taking a bite and letting the steam roll out.

He follows suit and — it tastes just as good as it smells, if not better. He’s salivating again, letting the dough melt in his mouth before swallowing.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence, getting through the entire basket in mere minutes.

When you’re finished, you ask him where he’s from.

The question shouldn’t feel like such a shock to the system. But after a year of being in Jackson, successfully avoiding conversation about his life before the outbreak, it sets off a panging between his eyes, a dull ache in his viscera.

“Texas,” he tells you plainly. “From Austin, originally.”

You nod. And you must be able to tell that he’s not used to talking about himself — by the tick of his jaw or the lack of eye contact — he’s not sure. Because you don’t pry. Instead, you say, “you can ask me something.”

He nods. Thinks on it for a moment.

“When did you arrive here? To Jackson?”

Unlike him, you do not grimace at the intrusion. Instead, you tell him: about your parents, their untimely deaths, the harrowing road that led you here. You do not cry, but Joel can see the pain in your shiny eyes.

It’s inevitable; there isn’t a single person here who hasn’t been dealt a bad hand. But you wear your past like a badge of honor, like you’re still grateful, after it all, to be alive.

Joel envies your tenacity.

So when you ask him about Ellie, if she is his daughter, he lets the walls around him down — just an inch. He doesn’t get upset when he stumbles over his words while telling you about Sarah. He finds comfort in confiding in you, in the way you so attentively listen, quietly nodding along as he recalls his version of the end of the world.

“Thank you,” you say when he’s done, burying his hands back in his pockets.

“For what?”

“For sharing that with me. I know it can be difficult to relive it.”

“I relive it everyday,” he admits. “Everything reminds me of her in one way or another.”

“I understand,” you nod. He believes you do.

So sweet, gaze like honey, you are an enigma to him. He hasn’t met many people who are kind just for the sake of it — not in a long while. Maybe that’s why he’d been so bothered by it at the market. It had felt almost unnatural to him, bound to be laced with an ulterior motive.

He’s still learning how to trust people again. It doesn’t come easily after twenty-odd years of rationing it like the pills he’d stowed. Still, there is something innate about baring his soul to you. Letting you in through the cracks in his battered being. You are safe, he’s sure of it; benevolence radiating from you like warmth.

It drips off your tongue when you ask him to show you how he does his craft — slips down your fluttering lashes. No longer can he deny you of anything — he’s accepted this swiftly — and so he obliges.

A half-whittled fox materializes from his coat pocket, along with his blade. He passes both to you and pulls his stool closer to yours.

He guides you, taking your hand in his, encouraging the press of the blade into the wood. Shows you how to round out a corner with a subtle twist of the knife. You’re a fast learner, Joel notes, attentive, taking every instruction like gospel.

The slow drag of steel, your fingers wrapped tightly around the handle; you’re so focused that you jump slightly when he places a reassuring hand on your knee.

“Doin’ great, darlin’,” he says, and your lips pull around pearlescent teeth. Joel feels as enraptured by you as you do the carving — the loose tendrils of hair that drape over your shoulder, the clinging of cotton to your soft curves. Though he hardened into stone a long time ago, he feels smelted in your presence. So he cannot help it when his fingers begin to drift up your leg, settling at your side as he turns his body toward yours.

The blade stalls, tip still stuck into the wood, puncturing the fox’s non-existent spine, and your face lifts.

“Is this okay?” he whispers. You nod, gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips.

You’re so close like this; Joel can smell the floral perfume dappled along your neck, can feel your warm breath fanning his face. He has half a mind to stop himself from sealing the sliver of distance left between you. But then you’re sighing, placing the blade and the wooden fox on the tabletop. And it’s your turn to guide him — winding your delicate fingers around his wrist and settling his hand at the small of your back.

The air in the tiny workshop grows heavy with unspoken desire, a longing to disrupt; to create. Your body forms to his languidly, arms interlocking behind his neck, fingers weaving in his hair to pull him closer to you. And then your lips press to his — hesitant at first, then not. You drink from each other until you are drunk, breathless and giddy when you separate.

“That was nice,” you whisper, and Joel chuckles.

“Just nice?”

“Great,” you amend. “It was great. Better than I imagined, even.”

“You imagined this?”

“Yes,” you smirk. “On a loop since I first saw you at the market.”

He pulls you back in. Gives you another chaste kiss. “For good measure.”

“Joel,” you say then, “will you and Ellie come by mine on Christmas? I could even cook — it’s just-”

“Yes,” he’s accepting before you can finish. “I’d love that. As long as you make more of those,” he gestures toward the empty basket on the workbench.

“That can be arranged,” you grin.

As soon as you leave that evening — sent off with a goodbye muttered between slotted mouths — Joel starts on your Christmas present.

end notes: thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you enjoyed <3

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller oneshot #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal as joel miller #pedro pascal #pedrostoriesgift23 #pedrostories

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apothe-roses · 11 months ago

Text

Dance of the Sugarplum Prince

Nutcracker!Aemond x Clara!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: violence, character death, smut, tiddy sucking, oral (f-receiving), uncle-niece incest, unprotected sex, piv sex, breeding kink, possessive Aemond, obsessed Aemond

A/N: I may not be the first nor the last to do a nutcracker au, but I’m doin it anyways! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. All rights go to HBO and George RR Martin

The snow falls heavy and thick outside the window. You watch the snowflakes dance to the ground while your family makes a ruckus behind you. The adults Gossip amongst themselves while your brothers laugh and joke amongst themselves. You love your family, but you’ve grown tired of your overbearing aunties trying to set you up with “nice boys” they know.

You notice a figure making their way towards the front door, making your own way towards it to greet them. Right after the doorbell rings, you open the door, smiling at the woman on the other side.

“Aunt Alys,” you smile and embrace the older woman.

“Forgive me for my tardiness, but it’s nearly impossible to make one’s way through that,” she replies, indicating to the storm outside. Other family members come to greet Alys, so you move to the side and let them. She pulls a large case out from under her coat. She reveals several beautifully made dolls, winding them up and letting them dance across the carpet. Your family is in awe. While they’re distracted, Alys approaches you.

“I have a special gift for you,” Alys says. She opens her bag, gingerly pulling out a final doll. He was a beautiful man with long silver hair and black armor accentuated with gold.

“This,” you aunt explains, “is no ordinary knight. He is a prince of a faraway land.”

“Oh Alys, she’s too old for dolls!” your mother calls from across the room.

“Oh, but he’s so beautiful!” you rebut. “Couldn’t I just put on on my shelf and admire him?”

“You can put these dirty dishes in the kitchen,” your mother tells you. You sigh, setting your doll on the windowsill. Alys follows you into the kitchen.

“Perhaps you should’ve brought me a real prince. That would’ve made mother happy,” you laugh. Alys simply smiles at that.

Suddenly, a loud crash sounds from the sitting room, followed by your mother shouting “Luke!” You rush into the room. Your doll is lying on the floor at your brother’s feet.

“It was an accident!” Luke explains. “I only wanted to get a closer look!”

You rush over, picking your doll up off the ground. One of his eyes is broken. Luke apologizes profusely while you carefully extract the broken pieces. Alys approaches.

“I couldn’t find a spare eye, but this should fit,” she says, handing you a small sapphire. You slip it into his empty socket; it fits perfectly. She provides a small strip of black fabric that you use as a makeshift eyepatch.

“Thank you, Alys,” you say, giving the older woman a hug. You don’t notice the worried look she gives your doll.

BONG

Was it midnight already? You must have nodded off at some point. You look down at your prince, admiring his handsome face. Perhaps it’s the dim light, but it looks as though his mouth twitches.

You’re about to go to bed when something moves at the edge of your vision. A small man walks out from under your Christmas tree! For a moment, you think it’s your prince. However, this man has two eyes and looks older. He wears a crown that looks like it’s made of wood. He’s looking around, clearly searching for something. You stay as still as possible, hoping he doesn’t notice you. Theres a possibility you’re still dreaming, but you’re not willing to take that risk.

“Looking for someone, Daemon?” a voice calls out. Both your heads snap to the corner where it came from. Your mouth falls open. It’s your prince! But he’s alive! He approaches the man, sword drawn.

“Aemond,” Daemon greets. “It appears you’ve suffered a horrible accident. Shame. I was hoping for a fair fight.”

“And you’ll get one,” Aemond snaps. At that moment, more figures storm into view. You recognize them as your brothers’ toy soldiers.

“Alright. Two can play at that game,” Daemon raises a hand, and several mice scurry out from nowhere. You clap a hand over your mouth, trying not to scream. Daemon and Aemond draw their swords, circling one another. Daemon strikes first, but Aemond is quick to block. The mice and toys launch at each other. You’re enthralled. Though bloodless, the battle is intense.

Suddenly, Daemon strikes Aemond’s blind side. He’s sent flying to the floor, his sword clattering away. Daemon smiles viciously, standing over his nephew. He raises his sword to strike the killing blow and—

WHAM!

A giant slipper knocks him off his feet. Aemond glances at you, noting you are now missing a slipper. He grins, then springs into action. He draws a dagger, races to his uncle, and plunges the blade into his neck. Daemon never had time to regain his senses before he bleeds out, choking and clasping at his throat. The battle stops. The now leaderless mice scurry off, and the toy soldiers return to where your brothers left them originally. Aemond walks over to you. As he does, he grows until he’s the height of a normal man. You stare up at him, lips parted. He’s tall, and even more handsome as a man.

“You saved me,” he states, kneeling at your side.

“I-it was nothing,” you stammer, blushing. “I didn’t want him to…kill you.”

Aemond’s lips curl into a smirk. “Such a sweet thing you are,” he muses. He reaches out, winding a lock on your hair around his finger. “It’s not every day a man can say he was saved by someone so beautiful or kind.”

Your blush deepens. “You’re too kind,” you whisper.

“You must come back to the castle with me. My family will want to meet the girl who helped defeat my wicked uncle and his wretched mouse army,” he stands, extending a hand to you. You look around the empty sitting room, wondering what to do.

“It’s only for tonight. I promise to have you back by morning,” he assures you. You bite your lip, not noticing the way his gaze darkens. Then, you smile and take his hand. When you stand, you notice how much taller he is. you look down shyly, but he tucks a finger under your chin and tilts your face up to his. For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. But then he says, “let’s be off then,” and leads you to the Christmas tree. With each step, you shrink until you can easily walk under the branches.

You spot a castle in the distance. A beautiful red fortress perched on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a sprawling city. The faint ringing of bells can be heard.

“It seems word of our victory has spread,” Aemond observes. “I imagine the celebration is well underway.

“Oh, but I’m not dressed!” you realize.

“Look down, little one,” Aemond replies. You do, and you gasp. Your simple nightgown had been replaced with a beautiful white dress, tied by a large red ribbon. The skirt floats in light layers down to your calves. Your feet are covered by red slippers with ribbons wrapped around your legs.

“How…?” you start to ask, the question dying on your lips when you look up and see Aemond had changed as well. He’s wearing a black and red jacket adorned with golden epaulettes, and also matching breeches and shiny black boots. His hair is loose, and the swath of ribbon covering his eye is replaced with a proper eyepatch.

“Come,” he requests, extending his hand. “We don’t want to miss out on the festivities.”

The walk to the castle is filled with merriment as the small folk throw flowers over your heads and dance and cheer. Inside the castle is even more merry as ball is in full swing. You spy the king and queen at the end of the hall, their matching silver hair catching the light.

Aemond leads you to the middle of the dance floor and leads you in a waltz. The night passes in a series of twirls and lifts, until a hush falls over the crowd.

The king leads his queen off the dais into the center of the crowd. Everyone pushes back, forming a wide berth around them as they lead a solitary waltz. You feel a large hand on the small of your back.

“Come with me,” Aemond whispers. His breath tickles your ear.

He leads you out of the room. The two of you race down the halls. You haven’t felt this exhilarated since you were a child chasing your brothers outdoors.

You’re lead into a bedroom that you presume is his. You don’t have time to take in the decor, as he grabs your face and kisses you hungrily. You kiss him back, hands tangling in his soft hair.

He deftly undoes the bow on your back. He tries to untie the laces, but he gets impatient and just tears your dress open. You gasp as your dress falls from your body.

Aemond scoops you up and lays you on the bed. He looks over you like a lion about to devour his kill.

“Have you ever been with a man before little one?”

“N-no,” you stutter, causing him to chuckle.

“Well,” he starts, “allow me to show you.”

He tears the rest of your underthings off, leaving you bare before him. Without breaking eye contact, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Your head rolls back as he sucks on the sensitive flesh, kneading your other side.

“So beautiful,” he gasps, switching to the other tit.

“So perfect.” He trails kisses down your torso. He fingers swipe through your folds. He brings them to his lips and sucks them clean; his eyes roll back and he groans.

“I knew you’d taste sweet,” he purrs. He lowers his head to your mound and drags his tongue through your folds. You gasp and instinctually shy away, but he pins you with this hands on your hips. You can only moan as he relentlessly devours your cunt.

“M-my prince…”

“Aemond. Call me Aemond,” he breathes, sending a shiver through you. You feel your peak approaching, closer and closer. It’s just about to wash over you when he pulls away. You whine at the loss of stimulation.

“The first time I make you come, it will be on my cock,” Aemond states, once again leaning over you. He sheds his clothing with ease. He’s truly one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. His cock is long and thick, and already leaking. He strokes himself as he gets into position.

“What if it doesn’t fit?” You ask innocently.

“It will fit.” He replies. “I’ll make it fit.”

He angles his cock and enters you with one sure thrust. You gasp loudly, clinging to his shoulders.

“Gods you’re tight,” he whispers. He begins to rock in and out of you, setting a steady pace.

“So wet, and I’ve barely touched you. Such a needy little thing. Absolutely begging to be fucked.”

You babble incoherently in response. Aemond chuckles and starts playing with your pearl.

“Already cockdumb are we?”

He pinches your pearl.

“I could keep you here you know. Fuck you—breed you— day and night, until your belly swells with my child. You’d like that wouldn’t you? My perfect little princess. My broodmare. Mine.”

You’re a little frightened by his declaration, but you’re to overwhelmed by pleasure to do anything about it. You can only lay there as you climax, the pleasure melting your bones and heating your blood.

“That’s my girl. That’s my good girl,” he groans, and you feel his cock pulse followed by a sense of warmth. He keeps his cock plugged inside until he starts to soften, then he pulls out. You feel a mixture of your fluid and his seed leak out. He hold your legs open, admiring the sight. Then, he lays down, pulling you into his arms.

“You’ll want for nothing. I’ll make sure of it,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your hair.

You lay against his chest, and it isn’t long before sleep claims you.

“Sweetheart, wake up!” you hear your mother call. You reluctantly open your eyes. You’re in your own bed, in your own room.

“I don’t mean to rush you, but we have some surprise guests waiting downstairs,” she pulls open the curtains, and you wince at the sudden brightness.

“Get dressed quickly! I need to get back downstairs!” she rushes out of your room, closing the door behind you.

At first, you don’t move. There was a heaviness in your chest. It had all been a dream. Of course it had been a dream. Mice soldiers, living dolls, and princes could only be the product of dreams. This is the real world, and there are guests waiting for you.

As you get dressed, you realize your prince doll is nowhere to be found. You must have left him downstairs.

Voices could be heard in the sitting room as you make your way downstairs. Unfamiliar voices. You round the corner and freeze. Sitting around the room are three very familiar faces.

“Darling, these are my half-siblings.” She leads you to the Sugarplum King. “This is Aegon,” then to the Queen, who smiles sweetly at you, “Helaena,” then finally to the most familiar of them all, “and this is Aemond.”

He takes your hand in his, planting a kiss on your knuckles. You stare up at him with wide eyes. He’s wearing an eyepatch. Over the same eye your brother broke. Was he hiding a sapphire under there?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you breathe.

“Please, the pleasure is all mine, niece,” he purrs, looking at you in a way an uncle should never look at a niece.

“What happened to your eye?” Luke asked abruptly. Jace whacks him on the shoulder, admonishing him.

“Ow!”

“It’s alright. It was an accident long ago,” Aemond replies.

“Oh, let’s not dwell on unhappy memories,” your mother says, turning to Helaena. “How is Alicent? It’s been too long since I’ve heard from her.”

The conversation carries on, but you’ve stopped paying attention. You’re not looking at him, but you feel his gaze on you. Just as intense as it had been when he made love to you in your dream.

A dream.

It had only been a dream.

Right?

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen smut #house of the dragon aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond smut

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sunkifye · 11 months ago

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don’t kiss me under the mistletoe

pairing— non idol nishimura riki x female reader

genre— enemies to lovers, high school au

synopsis— it was the biggest (holiday) party of the year, so it was no surprise that you saw your enemy, who also happens to be your ex-crush, there. you just weren’t expecting to see him under the mistletoe next to you.

featuring— minji from newjeans

warnings— cursing, kissing, partying, riki is honestly really mean (im sorry!!)

word count— 3.1k

author’s note— merry christmas to those who celebrate! and happy holidays!!

“I seriously can’t believe they’re dating,” minji, your best friend, whispered into your ear.

“really? I saw it coming,” you shrugged before taking a sip of your drink.

“what?! how?? they’re literally best friends,” minji asked, pouring fruit punch into a plastic cup.

“that’s exactly why I saw it coming,” you explained.

“I guess so,” minji agreed. “they’re totally gonna be the it couple of the year aren’t they?”

“for sure”

“ugh I’m so jealous” minji complained.

“me too,” you sighed. “I wish I had a-”

someone had aggressively bumped into your shoulder, launching you forward towards minji.

“excuse you!” you yelled out at the person who bumped into you.

“who? me?” a familiar voice asked.

you looked up to see the culprit standing before you, nishimura riki.

“yes you nishimura! do you seriously have no manners?” you scolded the boy just to receive an eye roll from him.

“to be honest,” he said, taking a step closer to you. “I don’t really care.”

oh how he made your blood boil.

he began to walk away from you, but after taking two steps he turned back around.

“oh and I forgot to mention,” he said, looking down at you. “you should probably stop daydreaming about things that’ll never happen…”

“because you’ll never get a boyfriend,” riki said with a smirk on his face before finally walking away from you.

oh he’s really done it now.

you started to march towards riki just for minji to put her hand on your shoulder and pull you back.

“just let him go,” minji said with a sigh.

“no way! I’m not letting him get away with saying that to me,” you replied, ripping minji’s hand off of your shoulder before beginning to walk after riki once more.

“nishimura!” you shout at the boy. “who do you think you are?!”

“better than you,” he says, turning his head around to look at you.

“well, news flash! you aren’t,” you yell at him. he scoffs as he turns his head back around and continues to walk away from you.

“don’t walk away from me!” you shouted, quickening your pace so you could catch up to him.

“why? do you want my attention or something?” he asked, smirking as he turned around to face you.

“ugh as if,” you grumbled, furrowing your eyebrows.

“as if!” riki said in a high-pitched voice, mocking you.

he lets out a laugh before walking away, but now he’s walking backwards just so he could look at you.

“you should really be nicer to people,” you reply, following him once more.

“I am nice!” he defends himself, placing his hand over his heart, pretending to be offended by your words.

“yeah right,” you say, rolling you eyes.

“just not to you,” he adds, continuing to walk backwards—which in all honesty, was a really bad idea.

since riki was facing you and not looking at where he was going, he bumped into a small table that was placed up against the wall in the hallway. the sudden movement of the table made a glass vase, which had a bouquet of white roses in it, fall over and onto the floor.

CRASH!

the vase had shattered on the floor, leaving the roses in a puddle of water on the ground, surrounded by shards of glass.

“look at what you did!” riki blamed you, pointing to the mess on the floor.

“what I did?! look at what you did!” you retorted, “this is your fault. if you were looking where you were going then maybe you wouldn’t have caused this mess!”

“well maybe if you weren’t annoying me then I wouldn’t have-”

“well maybe if you weren’t annoying me first-”

“well maybe if you hadn’t showed up to this party then none of this wouldn’t have happened!” riki spat out at you.

“what…” you mumbled in utter confusion.

“you shouldn’t even be here. these parties aren’t for people like you,” he stated, looking down at you.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, crossing your arms.

“you’re a loser y/n! you always have been and you always will be,” riki stated coldly.

your eyes widened at his words. you knew he was mean, but to say something like that? you stood there looking at him, not able to fathom the fact that you once had a crush on the boy standing before you.

you were in your second year of middle school when you developed feelings for your first crush, nishimura riki. he was friends with some boys in the higher grades and was quite popular among the students in your grade. you began to crush on him a week after school had started since he sat next to you in history class. your feelings for him grew as school went on because you saw him everyday and you even had to do a project with him once.

it was the middle of the school year—about february—when a girl you were kinda friends with told you to confess to riki, telling you that he would totally go out with you and that you would have a boyfriend for valentine’s day. you, being young and naive, trusted the girl’s words and decided to tell riki how you felt.

big mistake.

it was lunchtime and you entered the cafeteria, looking around for riki’s table. you found him in almost an instant, especially with how loud his friends were. you walked up to his table and with a sudden rush of confidence you tapped on his shoulder.

“huh?” he uttered, turning his head around to face you.

“hi,” you said quietly.

“hi?” he repeated, scrunching up his eyebrows.

“riki, I really really like you,” you blurted out, causing riki to raise his eyebrows. his friends were biting their lips and covering their mouths, trying to hold back their laughter, which you failed to notice.

“and- and I was wondering if you would go out with me,” you added, looking at him with hope in your eyes. he turned his head, looking around the cafeteria, then looking at his friends, before setting his gaze back on you.

“who are you again?” he asked, genuinely confused. his friends continued to try to hold back their laughter, which they were failing at miserably. you ignored them as you kept your eyes on riki.

“I’m y/n, we have history together,” you said, hoping he would remember you. “you sit next to me… a-and we did a project together a few weeks ago,” you added, just for him to furrow his eyebrows once more.

“I don’t recall,” riki said before turning his attention away from you as he began to eat his lunch. you stood next to the table, dumbfounded as you watched him eat his sandwich. suddenly, he stopped eating and turned to you again.

“why are you still here?” riki asked in a rude tone. you honestly couldn’t comprehend anything that was happening in that moment, but you decided to speak anyway.

“I-I thought-” you stuttered.

“listen, uh… what’s your name? y/n or something, right? whatever it doesn’t matter,” riki said, looking up at you. “I don’t like you, alright? and I’d never go out with you.”

hearing his words felt like a knife just stabbed you in the heart. he seriously couldn’t have rejected you a little nicer? out of embarrassment, you turned away and quickly ran out of the cafeteria. as you left, you heard riki’s obnoxious friends burst out in laughter.

“wow riki, look at you!” one of his friends cheered.

“who does she think she is?” another one of his friends asked in between laughs.

“I know right, what a weirdo,” riki laughed. your eyes welled up with tears as you ran to the closest bathroom.

ever since that day, riki started to tease you in any way possible: making fun of you in class, calling you names, bringing up how you had a crush on him, and when his friends were around, he would be extra irritable towards you.

that was the first and last time you were confessing to someone ever again.

you turned away from riki, careful not to step in any shards of glass, and walked away from him. you felt tears begin to well up in your eyes.

“no no no! don’t cry!” you told yourself as you fanned your face, hoping to stop the tears from falling. you had to get out of here. you had to find minji.

you pushed past people in the crowded house, trying to find your best friend. luckily for you, she was standing where you last left her, by the drink table.

“y/n!! there you are! I thought you left me for good,” minji half-joked as you ran up to her.

“I wanna go home,” you muttered, making minji’s cheerful expression change into one of worry.

“what happened?” she asked you, looking deep into your glassy eyes. you opened your mouth to say something but no words came out.

“Y/N! WAIT!” you heard a voice yell. you turn around to see riki pushing past people, making his way towards you.

you turn back around to face minji. you didn’t even need to tell her what happened because after seeing riki, she already knew.

minji was about to say something when you walked away from her, wanting to get as far away from riki as possible.

you made your way through the living room, trying to get to the front door. as you squeezed past people you heard riki’s faint voice calling after you. you walked faster, stumbling as you bumped into the upperclassmen that were crowded by the couch. you saw the front door down the hallway.

“it’s the final stretch,” you thought as you approached the doorway that connected the living room with the hallway. but before you could step out of the living room, you felt a hand grasp your wrist, tugging you backwards. you turn around, stopping in your tracks when you see that riki is the one holding onto your wrist.

“y/n-” riki said, breathing heavily.

“what?!” you snap, ripping your wrist out of his hand.

“uhm…” he uttered quietly. you rolled your eyes before turning around and trying to walk away.

he grabbed your wrist again.

“don’t go,” riki begged. you spun around to face him and he looked kinda…upset?

“why? you said that you didn’t want me here just a second ago,” you protested. he let go of your arm.

“I-” riki started before getting cut off by someone yelling.

“LOOK WHO’S UNDER THE MISTLETOE!” you heard an obnoxious voice shout.

you examined your surroundings, trying to figure out who just screamed, but instead you saw a bunch of eyes on you. by instinct, you tilted your head up, shifting your gaze to the ceiling above you. there hung the festive plant from the top of the doorway you were standing under. shit.

you averted your gaze away from the mistletoe and instead locked eyes with riki, who for some reason, looked very calm about this situation. you on the other hand—felt like you’ve completely lost your mind.

“KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!” people started to chant.

you turned towards the hallway, hoping to run away from this horrid position, but there was a crowd of people blocking your way. instead, you turn the other way. maybe you can leave through the living room? wrong. there were even more teens standing in a crowd next to you, you couldn’t even see into the living room with how many people were gathered there. you had no chance of escaping this.

“so…” you heard riki mumble. you turn your head to look at him.

“so?” you repeat, furrowing your eyebrows. he doesn’t elaborate.

you sigh before deciding to speak up.

“EVERYBODY SHUT UP!” you scream at the top of your lungs, causing the crowd to stop chanting.

“you all are out of your mind if you think I’m going to kiss him,” you say, emphasizing the word “him” in an offended voice.

“but you guys are under the mistletoe! you have to kiss!” someone yells, breaking the crowd’s silence.

“yeah!” another voice shouts, “you can’t break a tradition!”

the crowd cheers, beginning to chant, “KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!” once more.

you glance at riki, whose expression is unreadable. you stare into his eyes as you fiddle with your fingers, trying to think of something, anything, to get out of this situation.

suddenly, you felt pressure on the back of your head, pushing you forward.

the last thing you saw was a hand behind riki’s head, pushing him towards you, before your lips collided into his.

there was no way in hell you were kissing nishimura riki right now. what kinda sick dream nightmare is this?! you know your past self would be ecstatic to know you were kissing your first ever crush, your “dream man.” how disgusting.

you felt your face heat up with every second that your lips were against his. was it from anger? embarrassment? or from the feelings you still had for him since middle school? the feelings that you shoved deep down into your heart, ignoring them since he rejected you that one day.

the kiss felt like it lasted forever, when in reality, it was just a small peck that was over in seconds.

you stared at riki with wide eyes after pulling away from the forced kiss. after locking eyes with him for a split second, you immediately turn away and start to run towards the front door, squeezing past the people who were blocking your way.

you push open the door and breathlessly stumble outside into the cold. you deeply inhale through your nose, taking in the sense of freedom, before exhaling through your mouth as you slowly walk down the snow covered driveway.

“I have to call minji,” you thought to yourself. you reach down into your bag just to realize that you didn’t have your bag with you—or your coat for that matter. well now what? you needed minji to drive you home and you needed your stuff that you left inside. you shivered at the thought of entering the house again—or maybe it was because it was below freezing out and you had no jacket on? you couldn’t really tell.

just then, you heard the front door creak open. you turned around in hopes of seeing your best friend there, holding your things, and ready to drive you home. but no. it was him. seriously, out of all people it had to be him?!

you watched riki close the door behind him before jogging down the driveway.

“y/n can we talk?” he panted as he approached you.

“talk? there’s nothing to talk about,” you protested.

“well actually there is, we literally just ki-”

“can we just forget about it?”

“what?”

“forget that it happened, okay?” you demanded, wanting nothing more than to just go home and lock yourself in your bedroom.

“what if I don’t want to forget about it?”

“huh?” you mutter, making riki go silent.

“why…?” you ask, in an almost inaudible voice.

“please don’t make me say it,” he begs, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.

“say what?” you reply with genuine confusion. he takes a slow, deep breath before answering.

“I really like you y/n and I have for a while.”

what. the. actual. fuck.

“that…doesn’t make any sense,” you ramble,“why- then why did you reject me back then?”

“I wanted to impress my friends and if I rejected you… I thought that maybe they would think I was cool,” riki admitted shyly.

“that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” you snapped.

“I know I know, but please let me-”

“don’t you think you're a bit too late?” you asked coldly, causing his face to fall.

“I…” he mumbled before stopping himself.

“can you please give me a second chance?” riki pleaded, his eyes glassy.

“why should I? you never even gave me a first chance,” you retort while crossing your arms.

“I know, I messed up badly and I really regret that,” he confessed in a shaky voice, “I'm so sorry y/n. I really am.”

the logical part of you wants to scoff at his words, reject him, give him a taste of his own medicine. but the other part of you consists of the feelings you have for him; the feelings you’ve been ignoring for years, not wanting to accept the fact that you were still infatuated by your first crush. you wanted to be with him. you always have.

“I can’t forgive myself for making you hate me but-”

“hate you? I don’t hate you,” you replied as you tugged on the end of the sleeve of your sweater, making it cover your bare hand.

“wait, what?” riki said with a glint of hope in his eyes.

“I hate that I still like you,” you admitted softly, with a small smile appearing on your face.

your words made his face light up in an instant, his bright eyes looked like they held galaxies in them.

you shifted your gaze from his eyes to his lips, which felt so warm and soft against yours a few minutes ago. now they were cracked and more of a purple color due to the chilly weather, but you still wanted to kiss them nonetheless.

you look into riki’s eyes again before taking a hesitant step towards him, your feet crunching on the snow beneath you. it seemed like he was able to read your mind because he copied your actions, taking a step towards you. leaving barely an inch in between the two of you, riki cupped your face with his hands as he pulled you in for a kiss. you leaned into him, deepening the kiss. it felt so good to finally be able to embrace your feelings for him.

after you both pull away, you notice small white specs falling onto riki’s hair. you tilt your head up and look at the sky just to see snow dancing down from the flurries above you. you look back at riki, both of you wearing cheesy smiles on your faces due to the sudden snowfall. he pulls you into a tight hug, resting his chin on your shoulder. you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, embracing his warmth.

“promise me you won’t push me away ever again,” you say almost inaudibly, speaking into his skin as you hug him tighter.

“I promise,” riki replies, laughing lightly.

“and don’t be so stupid!” you scold him half-jokingly, making him laugh even harder.

note : the more I continued writing this, the more I hated it. I feel like the ending is really rushed so I’m very sorry 😭 I feel like I could’ve done better but I wanted to write something and have it up in time for xmas. ANYWHO, thanks for reading and I’ll be back to updating chapters for rage quit. and once again happy holidays!!

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perfectlyoongi · 3 months ago

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BEST-FRIEND!NAMJOON who has a matching necklace with rings from your favorite drink cans. you thought those necklaces were made when you were 15 years old. 16? no, 17. yes, 18 for sure. it was something simple, very insignificant, but for you and Namjoon it was memories of two days full of sun and joy. in each necklace there was a new promise of eternal friendship and infinite love. it was as if those necklaces were the rings of your friendship. you never took them off. and whenever you needed that extra strength or comfort, it was by holding your necklaces that you found a little peace. “i’ll be honest with you. i don’t remember when we made our necklaces. all i remember is your huge smile when you put on yours. and to be honest, that’s all i need to remember.”

BEST-FRIEND!NAMJOON who pretended to marry you on your last day of high school and still has the vows he made to you. you knew that your paths would separate with the arrival of adulthood, but neither of you wanted to lose that special friendship. so, as if to celebrate the love between you, you and Namjoon faked a small ceremony in the garden of his house, where vows were exchanged and sealed with a tight hug. neither of you would disappear, you would just keep growing together. “i promise that our paths will meet again and when that happens, i will come to you with a suitcase full of my love for you. i promise that i will see you again and i will have my heart empty of missing you.”

BEST-FRIEND!NAMJOON who does embarrassing photoshoots to give you as postcards at christmas. when you took that photo of Namjoon at the beginning of high school and just teased him that he looked like he had never seen a camera in his life, Namjoon took your words as a challenge. so, every year without fail, Namjoon would do a small photoshoot where he would pose as if the art of photography was a science too complex to be understood. always signing the postcards with words too sweet for the photographs used, you looked forward to christmases just because you would receive that piece of intimacy from your best friend. “merry christmas to you and me. here’s your annual postcard. i don't know how to exist. i hope this makes you smile. stay well.”

BEST-FRIEND!NAMJOON who has written down in a notebook all the promises you made to each other. from the day you started a friendship, promises started to be exchanged. small things like taking his first car ride with you, or giving handmade gifts until you were twenty-five, you and Namjoon had a long list of hopes that graced your friendship. with each promise fulfilled, Namjoon crossed it out with the date it was fulfilled. but those long-term promises, those promises that lasted a lifetime, those were the ones that graced the first page in Namjoon’s notebook; after all, there is nothing more beautiful and hopeful than “i promise to love you until the day the earth eats me. and even then i will return in the form of flowers to show my eternal love for you — N.”

BEST-FRIEND!NAMJOON who saves you whenever you have a date that goes wrong. whenever you went on a date and it was going badly or was really uncomfortable, Namjoon didn’t mind pretending to be your very sick grandfather or your little sister who had a nightmare. all it took was a message from you for Namjoon to come up with a story that would justify your absence. changing his voice, status and name, Namjoon always made sure you had a way out of that date, always waiting for you at the door of your house to have ice cream with you on your couch. “remember if you need a way out, just send me a text. i can be everything you need, just say the word. i hope you have fun and remember, i’m always here.”

BEST-FRIEND!NAMJOON who is always the first to wish you a happy birthday. Namjoon always made sure to do two things: be the first to send you a happy birthday message and the first to call you to sing you the happy birthday song. when your special day arrived, a long and sincere message found refuge in your inbox and, before you even managed to open the message, Namjoon was already calling you to wish you a happy birthday. between Namjoon’s tender voice and his gentle words, you were starting your birthday with a little encouragement and happiness — that day was going to go good, Namjoon had promised you that. “happy birthday, sunshine. i know your day will be fantastic because you will be with me, but still, i hope the day goes well for you. remember that i love you very much and that the world is a better place because you are in it.”

BEST-FRIEND!NAMJOON who had no problem declaring himself to you because he knew it was reciprocal. when the time was right, Namjoon declared himself to you without nerves or beating around the bush. he knew you like no one else. he knew everything about you, including your feelings. so when he realized that his love was desperate to find shelter in your soul, it was with calmness and affection that Namjoon spoke to you. with bright eyes and a wide smile, Namjoon just looked at you and confessed. “ i like you. i dare say i love you. and i know you feel the same, so thank you for taking care of me and my heart. i know that with you i am in good hands.”

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littledollll · 11 months ago

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Loving

Brienne of Tarth x reader

A/n: I needed some brienne sweetness in my life and I saw a couple of people talking about the same thing. This came to me in just a few days and I’m very happy with it! I need to remind myself that my fics don’t always have to be over 1,000 words.

Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate and happy holidays🎊

Warnings: not much, playful banter, lots of loving (as title suggests), Brienne adores you, you adore Brienne, mentions (barely) long distance relationship? A bit of a playfully possessive reader.

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Brienne always made sure to be extra quiet when she arrived home late, not wanting to risk waking you and ruining your precious sleep, there’d always be time for all the greeting and talking in the morning.

She was pleasantly surprised to find you were wide awake and seemed to have been waiting for her for quite some time. There was a cup of tea placed on the table and a book you were merely scanning with your eyes before you looked up at her.

“Look at you trying to be sneaky in that clanky armor..” you mused.

“It works when you’re asleep, or at least I’ve been led to believe it does?” She said as she dropped every item she was carrying near the door for later.

“No no.. it does work. I appreciate you not waking me up, but don’t you deserve a little company once you’re finally back?” You said as you stood and made your way towards her.

“I missed you so much, pretty..” you murmured softly as you stood on your tippy toes, your arms wrapped around her neck, and pulling her into a tight hug. “The least I could do is help you get ready for bed.”

“That’s nonsense. There’s no need for such a thing, it’s not too much work and I rather see you sleeping peacefully than disturb you for something I can do myself.” She counter argued.

“Absolutely nothing about being with you could ever disturb me in any way. I appreciate you way more than I do my sleep.”

“Oh my that’s a heavy statement. You do love to sleep.” Brienne said with a smile grazing her face as she hugged around your waist.

“I love you way more.” You said as you pulled back a bit to look at her.

“You look too stunning, seriously. I can’t have you looking like this while you’re far away from me, somebody’s bound to steal you away.” Your smile light up every part of her soul as you spoke, but your teasing was endless every time she visited you.

“Don’t start with that..” Brienne seemed a bit flustered at that, but she was quick to wrap her own arms tighter around you, lifting you into her grasp. You let out a little yelp in surprise as she lifted you up, but quickly regained your composure to shoot her a look.

Brienne sat down on the edge of the bed, keeping you wrapped up in her arms as you sat on her lap.

“Are you saying I’m not allowed to call my woman, pretty?” You mused as you played with her hair. “Mm.. you’re allowed.. but you know no one will steal me away from you.” She mumbled as she nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“They better not.”

“Love-“ Brienne started a sigh, before getting cut off by you.

“I’m serious!”

She moved her head to look at you, a soft, more than beautiful smile on her lips. “I know you are.”

“I love that about you. So unnecessarily possessive when you know I’m yours. I love you.” She could spend a thousand years listing all the things she loves about you. If only it were possible.

You hummed, pulling her into a kiss in response. It carried a world of softness and love she could feel in her soul. She didn’t know how you did it. You made her feel so complete, you made her feel the love of the whole universe.

You rested your forehead against hers once you pulled away. “I love you too.”

#brienne of Tarth #brienne of tarth x reader #game of thrones #gwendoline christie #brienne of tarth got #got brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth fanfiction #ser brienne of tarth #game of thrones brienne #brienne x reader #ser brienne

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l0starl · 11 months ago

Text

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋

౨ৎ featuring - Miles 42 x reader

-> synopsis - Snow ball fight with miles!

꒰ 🥥 ꒱ؘ warnings - if your allergic to cursing, I guess don’t read 🤷🏾‍♀️

ᯤ Author’s note - New writing style + Have a merry Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, and a happy new year!!! And if you don’t celebrate those, I hope you have a nice day and spend time with family ^_^

You and your friends + miles all agreed to a snow ball fight, it was all fun and games till everyone started getting competitive…

Hiding behind a snow built wall, you peaked your head out to see if anyone was out in the open, yet there was no one in sigh-

“Shit!” Someone yelled, seems like they got ambushed

Peaking out your head once again to see who it was, to your surprise it was ganke, taking the walk of shame back into the house

Taking this chance to ambush the person who took out ganke, you paused before you made your move.

“Something’s off” You muttered to yourself, being high alert of your surroundings, But it was too late, footsteps approached rapidly, as their boots hit the snow below, as you turned around, miles was right behind you, ready to strike

“What’s good, mami?” Miles spoke in a mocking way

“Geez don’t scare me like that!” You huffed, crossing your arms

“So, you ready to accept defeat? There ain’t no where to run, unless you wanna end up like Ganke” He sneered

“I’m not gonna lose to you!” You scoffed as you throw snow at him

He grabbed your arm to halt you, “Nice try guapa, but it’s over” He smiled

You broke free from his grasp, sighing in frustration “If I’m gonna lose I might as well get a head start at running” You suggested

“Alright then, you’ve got 8 seconds, starting now” he replied

You lifted yourself as you sprinted, your boots hitting the snow with a soft faint hissing sound

You know your friends aren’t out yet, so maybe he’s saving you for last..?

You duck behind a tree, sure it’s not the smartest, but hey! You only had 8 secon-

A abrupt yelp snapped you right out your thoughts, you peak out from the tree, your friend Tasha got ambushed with snow near her snow fort

She went back inside the house with a scowl, though who could blame her?

All your friends are out, meaning…..

It’s just you..

But miles is no where to be seen, keeping your guard up, you move from your position near a snow fort Tasha built earlier

A familiar set of footsteps approached rapidly From behind you, though you didn’t get the chance to turn around

“Gotcha once again” Miles smiled

“Man this shit ain’t fair!” You hissed

“How about a 1v1 then? Whoever wins, gets the person anything they want, deal?” He suggested

”Deal!” You beamed

Grabbing the nearest snow, you just quickly roll it up to throw it at him

Miles being taken aback, not prepared for the attack, soon after fires back, but he ends up losing.

“Alright fine, you win!” He grabbed your arm forcing you to halt “There you win”

“That means you have to get me anything I want!” You cheered

“Alright, what do you want then?” Miles questioned

“Maybe hot Chocolate, you free tomorrow?” You responded

“Alright, bet!” He replied

‼️ Thanks for reading :3 Before you go! Check out the hot chocolate fic, basically the continuation of this ‼️

‼️ Hot chocolate fic ‼️

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 2 years ago

Note

Can I request something with Daemon and Alicent sister.

She always thought she was second choice to Rhaenyra and tries not to show her sadness but her sons that they have together can see it and ask there father why is there mother second choice. And he finally relises that she feels like second choice.

Happy ending though.

Second Choice || D. Targaryen x Hightower!oc

GIF by @buffysummers DIVIDERS by @straywords

a/n: I had so much fun writing this, thank you for the request! I added my own little twists to this but it’s still along the lines of your request so I hope you don’t mind! Also this is oc btw, and enjoy!! also this is a long one! ALSO MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE TO THOSE WHO CELEBRATE IT <33 i live in aus so xmas is today!

warning: big age gap, oc starts of as 15 in the beginning and is 18 in the end, otto gaslighting and being manipulative

“You will marry the Prince” Otto had his back turned to his daughter. Leyla’s eyes widen at her father’s words, she looks to her older sister Alicent who wears a sad expression on her face.

“But father- he’s nearly three times my age! Why must I marry him” She pleads, she had no feelings for Daemon. And the terrible stories she had heard about him made her avoid him even more.

“Because you are my youngest child, I want you to live in royalty. The Prince has his eyes on the Princess but the King would never allow it-“ Leyla scoffed. “So you force me to marry him so that the King would thank you?! Do you love the power you have so much? So much that you would marry me off to that vile man!” She yelled, infuriated at her father.

“Do you have no respect child!” Both Leyla and Alicent flinch at the sound of everything on the table being pushed to the ground. “I am doing you good by marrying you to Daemon. You will have a high spot in court and you will, without a doubt live in luxury. Your children would be of royalty” Otto steps closer to Leyla, taking her face in his hands in a rough manner.

“You will give him children. You will marry him. Do you hear me” He yells the last bit as he shakes her, her jaw clenching as tears form in her eyes. Leyla pushes herself off of him as he leaves the room.

“I am so sorry sister” Alicent quietly says before giving her a sympathetic look and leaving the room. Leyla stood there for god knows how long, her mind clouded with thoughts.

She was only 15, how could her father marry her off to a man nearly three times her age and bear his children? Leyla knew there was nothing that could be done to get out of this so instead, she held a strong front.

She laid motionless on the bed. Her whole body was aching, particularly her womanhood. “You did well, sweet child” Daemon kissed her cheek before he laid beside her. “Did you enjoy the show my lords?” He called out in a humorous manner as they stayed silent, Alicent only coughing before they all left the room.

Embarrassed, Leyla turned on her side, her naked back facing Daemon. She felt so many things at that moment. She did not expect to lose her maidenhood so early and to a man that she did not love.

Daemon turns his head to only see the back of his wife’s head. He too did not love Leyla, his eyes were on someone else. He did not know her very well, only that she was the youngest offspring of that cunt, Otto.

But nonetheless, he refused to treat Leyla in an ill manner. Throughout their very short courtship, he had grown to be protective of her, he didn’t understand why, maybe because it was the fact that he was nearly three times older than the girl.

He nearly choked the old fool who offered his youngest daughter to him. He couldn’t help but scoff and roll his eyes when he heard the offer and her age. Daemon knew that they were doing this so that he couldn’t marry Rhaenyra. Pathetic really, he thought.

Leyla smiled at Daemon as he places his hand atop her swollen belly, caressing it slowly before taking her hand off of his to place a gentle kiss on it. “How is the pregnancy going Lady Leyla?” Viserys looks up from his plate sending her a smile.

She grins back as Daemon and her look at each other before she replies, “Very well your Grace, though she’s been quite active recently, kicking and moving around constantly” Leyla says as they all chuckle. “A true Targaryen she is” Daemon adds with a huge grin.

“She?” Rhaenyra asks as she looks at the two across from her. Leyla awkwardly lookd at her, a tight smile on her lips. It has always been quite awkward around Rhaenyra. Ever since Leyla and Daemon married, there had been an awkward atmosphere around.

“Yes Princess, Daemon is adamant that the babe is a girl” Leyla squeezes his hand as she nods with a smile before looking at Daemon, something only Leyla notices. She watches Daemon from the corner of her eye as he looks at Rhaenyra, a subtle smile on his lips before he looks back down to his plate.

“Princess,” Ser Criston calls out from the door, without uttering another word, Viserys gives Rhaenyra a smile and nods his head as she stands up. “Please excuse me” She says before leaving the room.

“I do hope that you are able to attend the wedding then, hopefully you won’t be in labour” Leyla’s sister looks up to her as she nods, “What wedding?” Daemon questioned, raising an eyebrow at his sister-in-law.

“Rhaenyra’s wedding to Prince Laenor, husband” Leyla placed her hand on top of his to which he shoves it off, “Rhaenyra is marrying and no one has told me?” Daemon says frustratedly, banging the table making everyone jump.

“Well I was going tell you-“ Leyla was interrupted once Daemon sat up from his seat making it fall to the ground. “Daemon-“ Leyla tried but she was turned down, “Don’t.” He glares at her as she looks at him in bewilderment.

Her eyes followed his figure leave the room, the door closing with a loud slam. Leyla sighed in defeat, massaging her forehead with her fingers. “Excuse me your Grace” She apologetically smiles and leaves the room to find her husband.

“Daemon?” Leyla slowly opened the door to their shared bedchambers. She stepped in seeing Daemon sat on a chair infront of the firepit. Her feet move to the chair, her hands placing themselves on his tense shoulders.

“Were you going to tell me or did I have to wait until the day she marries him” He mutters, “I was going to tell you okay? I-It just slipped out of my head” She sighed,!moving infront of him.

Leyla could see his feature’s immediately softening when he looks at her. He looks at her swollen belly before grinning up at her, Daemon takes her hands in his moving her closer to him as he gently leans his head on her belly.

She liked to think that he was over Rhaenyra—even the slightest bit over her—ever since they found out they were expecting a child. And during those months together, Leyla was undeniably falling for Daemon.

“Why do you worry about it so much, my love?” Leyla says in a hushed voice, careful to not anger him, Daemon only ignores her, placing kisses on her covered belly. Leyla sighs in defeat, running her hands through his hair.

3 years later….

“Mumma!” Alyssa, Leyla’s eldest child, ran up to her on the bed, followed by Baelon, the second oldest. She jumped onto the bed making Leyla giggle. “Careful Alyssa” Daemon warned as he lifts Baelon onto the bed.

He places a kiss on Leyla’s forehead before nestling himself beside her who was holding their third child in her arms. “Meet your baby brother” Leyla smiled at her children as they move closer to look at him.

“You are amazing, sweetling” He whispered against her hair, she tiredly smiles before leaning her head on his chest. A knock at the door makes the couple pause.

The handmaiden rushes to the door, the handmaiden curtsying before letting out a quiet “Princess”. Leyla slightly leaned up, wondering why Rhaenyra was here.

“Who is it?” Daemon calls out, his gaze on the child in Leyla’s arms. “Princess Rhaenyra, my Prince” She replied. Leyla felt his body slightly shift. She watched as he gazes at her intensely.

“Uncle, Lady Leyla” Rhaenyra smiled as she steps closer to the family. “Princess” Leyla politely bows her head as Daemon’s eyes still fixate themselves on her. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” Leyla speaks up.

“I just arrived this morning for a visit when I heard you gave birth to your third child, I wanted to know how you were” She smiles as she looks to Daemon, then to her, then to the child in Leyla’s arms.

“That is very kind of you, Princess, isn’t it Husband?” Leyla turns her head to look at Daemon. He still had his eyes on Rhaenyra with a subtle smile. And that was when it hit her, the reality that Daemon still had feelings for Rhaenyra.

1 year later…

Ever since Rhaenyra moved back to the castle, the same tension that Leyla felt nearly 4 years ago was back, more than ever. She couldn’t help but notice the subtle looks they would exchange whenever they were in the same room.

Or how Daemon would never be paying attention to her or their children whenever Rhaenyra was close by. At one point, their youngest son who had just started to walk, Aegon, was one step away from falling down the stairs. That night, the two had a huge argument, the room was left in pieces.

Leyla watched with a sadden gaze as her husband dances with his niece. It was her sister’s name day. She had Aegon on her lap, bouncing him to usher his cries. Alyssa and Baelon to her left playing with their wet nurse.

Daemon was still so sweet and caring to Leyla but she could feel it deep inside. The feeling that she would always be second choice to Rhaenyra. She tried accepting it, she really did, she knew that he married her when he was inlove with another.

But in those 4 years, she liked to think he loved her. She gave him everything, her childhood, her maidenhood, children, her nonstop love and care, but sometimes she felt as if it was going all to waste.

Leyla couldn’t bare watching the two dance knowing that there was—or still is—something between the two. Leyla raised her hand to beckon the wet nurse. “Take Aegon to the children so that they may play together” She smiles to the women. “Of course, my lady”

She stood from her seat walking towards her sister. “I apologise sister, I feel as if I should retire to my bedchambers” She says to her, kissing her cheek as Alicent smiles. “Of course, rest up well” She holds her hand as Leyla nods walking to her three children.

“I am going to go rest my darlings, Alyssa, take care of your brothers for me” Leyla kisses their foreheads as she stands and leaves the bustling room. God was Leyla tired. Mentally and physically drained.

She had no rest. The last 4 years was nothing but Leyla going through another pregnancy. She was only 18 and she already has three children—4 maybe because she hadn’t bled in a month—but nonetheless she loved her children very much.

When she arrived at her bedchambers, she immediately laid herself on the bed. A loud sigh leaves her lips, before she could even close her eyes to get some much needed sleep, a knock erupts from the door.

Groaning, she takes heavy footsteps to the door. Opening it, she was surprised to see her father. “Father-“ “What are you doing here? You should be celebrating with your sister” He utters as he invites himself in.

“I’m not feeling well, I already told his Grace and Alicent” She mutters as Otto turns to her, “Are you expecting again? The handmaidens have told me you haven’t bled this month-“ “Why are you associating yourself with my handmaidens father? Are you that interested in my life” Leyla scoffs.

Otto slightly smiles, “Just making sure my daughter is being a dutiful wife and producing the Prince heirs, that is all” He shrugs. This made Leyla absolutely fume.

Grabbing the closest vase, she throws it on the ground, shards flying everywhere. “Is that what you think I am? A pawn?Someone who can just pop out babies for the Prince!” She yells, “I have wasted my childhood on the birthing bed! Because of you and your stupid arrangement for me to marry Daemon, he doesn’t even love me!”

“Why would you do that to me! I was only 15…” Leyla sobbed, her legs giving up on her as she released all her pent up emotions. What surprised her was the feeling of her father’s arms wrapped around her shaking body. “Silly girl, love doesn’t exist in arranged marriages”

“This was what you were made to do, my dear. Produce heirs, be married off to a noble man, in this case, married to a Prince and producing royalty. You are giving our family, our house, great honour” He says as Leyla listens.

“Get out” She quietly says, “I’m sorry?” Otto says confused, “I said, get out!” Leyla raises her voice as she shrugs his hands off of her. “Get out now!” She screams, her face red from all the crying.

Otto chuckles, “You should be thanking me, my child. I have built this for you, this extravagant life you have and for your children-“ “Get the fuck out of my chambers father” She loudly says, fed up with all his words that tried to give her some sort of comfort and reassurance that this what all she was made to do, produce heirs.

“Darlings, where’s mother?” Daemon had finished dancing with his niece and searched for his wife, but she was nowhere to be found. He sat down on the ground with his three children, something that made the nearby lady and lords gossip.

“Alyssa?” Daemon questions, taking baby Aegon from the arms of the wet nurse. “Mumma is not feeling well, she’s resting in her room” The little girl responds, her attention still on the toys.

Daemon looks towards their wet nurse who briefly nods in confirmation. He was worried for Leyla, she had been feeling more tired and was quiet in the past few weeks.

He knocks on the door, “Darling, it’s me” He waits for a few minutes before he could hear Leyla’s footsteps approaching. “Are you-“ He cut off mid sentence when he saw her face. Red eyes and wet cheeks.

Daemon furrows his eyebrows before stepping in and wrapping his arms around her shoulders as she sniffles. “What happened? Are you okay?” He says, concern in his voice as he cups his lover’s cheeks in his big hands.

Leyla says nothing, keeping her gaze on the floor before taking his hands off of her face. This made Daemon even more confused, she would usually cave in and tell him what bothered her. “Leyla?” He quietly calls out as she makes her way to the balcony.

Daemon follows her outside where they both lean against the railing in silence, overlooking King’s Landing. “What’s bothering you, my love?” He says softly, his face turned to her as he waits patiently for her response.

“Did you enjoy your dance with Rhaenyra?” She quietly says, catching Daemon off guard with the sudden topic of Rhaenyra. “Yes, I was going to ask to ask you for a dance but-“ Leyla laughs at this.

“I am so stupid,” She groans as Daemon looks at her confused, “I was right all along” A scoff emits from her lips as Daemon takes ahold of her forearm. “Right about what Leyla?”

“Right about the fact that I am and will always be the second choice to Rhaenyra!” She bursts out, “What?” Daemon furrows his eyebrow, confused.

“You still love her don’t you? I can see it! The way you treat me and your own children Daemon! I-I thought that finally after all those years of me giving you my everything, you would love me back” She ranted as Daemon quietly listens.

“Are you done?” He mutters, Leyla looks at him, “What?” “I said, are you done?” Daemon says a bit louder. “Who is married to me, mother to my children, Leyla?” He asks.

She was confused at the sudden questions, “Me?” “Exactly, and who do I love?” Leyla ponders for a minute, “Rhaenyra.” She deadpan says, a small giggle leaving her lips soon after, her anger leaving her slowly.

Daemon chuckles too, turning his body towards her, he pulls her hand before wrapping themselves around his torso. “You, silly. I love you and I love our beautiful children, not Rhaenyra.” He clarifies, looking down at her.

“But-“ “When I look at her, I laugh at myself thinking how much of an idiot I was trying to chase her when I realised the only person I love was right infront of me. Thank you for everything you have given me” He smiles, kissing her forehead as Leyla listens intently.

“Though I would like to choke your cunt of a father for giving you to me at such a young age” Daemon mutters under his breath as Leyla laughs.

“Your are my wife, mother to our children. You will always be my first choice, Leyla.” This brought comfort to her, her lover finally reassuring that she was not second choice, “You will always be the most important person to me” Daemon squeezes Leyla as he brings his face down to hers for a kiss.

Their lips touch and all of Leyla’s pent up emotions and worries left her. She hummed in the kiss, the feeling never boring her. The two pull away when they hear the door suddenly opening.

Alyssa and Baelon came running in searching them before spotting the two on the balcony. “Alyssa, Baelon, come back here!” The poor women ran in out of breath, Aegon in her arms. She finally looks to Leyla and Daemon before curtsying, “My apologies my Prince, my Lady, they insisted on coming to see you” She sheepishly says.

Leyla and Daemon look at each other before letting out giggles. “It is alright, go rest, We’d like to spend time with our children” Leyla smiles at the women as Alyssa and Baelon cling to her dress. She engulfs the two in a hug as Daemon walks to the women to take Aegon.

Aegon cooed once in his father’s arms as Daemon smiles at the boy, “Looks quite like me doesn’t he?” He cheekily says as Aegon gently touches Daemon’s face with his small hands. “You wish, I think he looks awfully quite like me, disregarding the blonde hair” Leyla replies as she starts playing with Alyssa and Baelon.

Soon enough, Daemon sits beside Leyla, Aegon on his feet as he stands in between Daemon’s legs, holding his thigh for support. Leyla watched the scene infront of her, the children happily playing and Daemon infatuated with Aegon who was babbling.

Daemon takes Leyla’s hand bringing it closer to his lips. Placing a soft kiss on it, he speaks, “I love you, so so much” He murmurs against her soft hand as Leyla smiles. She was happy and content with what she had. “Daemon?” Leyla starts, “Hmm?” Daemon hums, busy with peppering your hand with kisses. “I’m pregnant.”

#daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #house targaryen #fanfiction #matt smith #game of thrones #daemon targaryen x oc #rhaenyra targaryen #otto hightower

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