#i just needed to fling my appreciation out into the world for a moment

[jamiethebee]

I'm..... Having a great day via seeing either vaguely, or outright stated, Spinner is Autistic takes and I'm just like yeeees yesssss same brain you guys see it toooooo

[stylesispunk]

"Is God watching our eyes burn?"

Not outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Two best friends are falling in love. What could have gone wrong?

w.c: 6k

warnings: angst as always. No proofreading.

a/n: I wrote this during the afternoon, so please don't hurt my feelings. I hope you like it, though. It has the potential for a second part. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated.💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Falling in love with your best friend. What a typical beginning or an ending of a story.

From your eyes you could see people describing their partner as their soulmates, their other half, and their best friends.

What are the odds of you falling in love with yours? How? when he had never seen you with those loving eyes you witnessed in others.

Joel loved you. That wasn’t in doubt but he had loved you as a brother loved a sister, as a friend loved his friend.

And that's why you were simply that. Best friends.

You watched him as he spoke, hands moving animatedly as he shared some story or other, and you smiled and laughed at all the right moments. Still, there was a part of you that was miles away, caught in a daydream where he was looking at you, just once, the way people looked at their person.

It wasn’t something you’d wanted to feel. For years, Joel had been your rock. You knew each other in ways no one else did, inside jokes, old scars, even that soft corner of his heart that few others got to see. He’d been the one person you could count on, even when things got messy, and you never wanted to risk that. But somewhere along the way, the little moments started to change. His hand on your shoulder, his smile in the morning, his laugh when he caught you dancing alone in the kitchen, all those things that had once been innocent had started to mean something else.

You used to feel safe around him. Now, every word, every glance, every touch was charged with a question he couldn’t hear, and it scared you. You kept asking yourself, When did it happen? How did it happen? It was like a puzzle you couldn’t solve. One minute, you were friends; the next, you were wondering what his hand would feel like if it held yours just a little longer.

He had found his way inside you. You didn’t mean it sexually, but spiritually. It felt like him and his bared hand ripped the skin off your chest and took your most precious belonging. Your heart.

From that day on, it felt like your breathed for him. That you belonged to him. To his breath, to his thoughts, to his gaze. Every time he wasn’t looking at you, you felt your heart tearing apart.

It was maddening, really, how much you had come to need him, how each of his smiles, each of his laughs, felt like something you couldn’t live without. You’d catch yourself watching him, memorizing the lines around his eyes, the way his shoulders relaxed when he was with you, how his voice softened when he talked about something he loved. You’d watch him in the little moments when he didn’t know you were looking, like when he was lost in thought, eyes drifting away as he tapped his fingers against his knee.

But you were losing your hold on yourself, inch by inch. You knew it every time he walked into the room and your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat as if he was the most important person in the world. And he was. At some point, he’d become everything. And you could do nothing about it.

It felt like you breathed for him.

The more you tried to keep those feelings quiet, the louder they seemed to get. There were nights when you’d lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the ache of his absence like a weight pressing down on you. It was terrifying to know that you belonged to him in a way that he’d never understand. You belonged to his laugh, his gaze, the casual touches he’d give that left their mark on you long after he’d pulled away.

And you had came to understand why your relationships never worked out.

And why all his flings and lover weren’t very fond of you.

It all made sense now, why every other relationship you’d tried felt hollow, why every time someone else held you, it felt like a betrayal. You had always been searching for something that could fill the space Joel left behind, something that could compare to the feeling of being with him. And no one ever measured up. No one could make you feel the way he did with just a look, just a laugh, or a soft touch on your shoulder.

His girlfriends must have sensed it, too—the subtle pull that kept you by his side, the way he’d cancel plans with them if you needed him, the way he always looked for you in a crowded room. They saw what you tried to keep hidden. They could see that in some quiet, unspoken way, you were always there, between them and him.

But you also knew he was far away from healing from his last heartbreak. And you knew that when he kissed you like he mean it, he was looking out for comfort from you, the person who always was there.

And you gave in.

You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t let it happen. You told yourself a hundred times that you could be his friend, his rock, without crossing that line. But when he showed up at your door late one night, shoulders slumped and eyes tired, the air felt different. He looked worn down, like he’d been carrying too much for too long, and all he wanted was relief, a place where he didn’t have to pretend to be okay.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said, his voice low and raw, and you knew what that meant, knew it had to do with the last woman who’d walked out of his life, leaving him with wounds that hadn’t yet healed. You’d listened to him, night after night, as he talked through the pain, the trust he’d put in her, the hopes he’d had that had all fallen apart. And though every word cut deep, you were there, steady as ever, offering him comfort, reassurance.

So when he stepped closer, when his hand reached out, brushing a lock of hair from your face, you felt your own resolve crumbling. You could tell yourself all you wanted that this wasn’t real, that it wasn’t the way you’d dreamed it. But the truth was, his touch set you on fire, made you feel like you’d been waiting for this moment forever.

He leaned in, his face inches from yours, and you could see the flicker of need in his eyes, the desperation. You knew he was reaching for you to fill a void, to ease a hurt that still felt fresh, and maybe it was wrong, maybe you were both vulnerable, but in that moment, you didn’t care. You wanted to be the person he needed, even if it was only for a night, even if he was looking at you through the lens of heartbreak and loss. Because the way his gaze softened, the way he touched you, it was everything you’d been longing for, even if it came from his own need to feel whole again.

So you let him. You let him take that step, let his lips press against yours, let him hold you close as if you were the only one who could fix the pieces left broken. It wasn’t the love you’d dreamed of, but it was real in its own way, a moment where you belonged to each other, even if he would never see it that way.

And as he kissed you, as he held you close, you knew you’d regret it in the morning, that you’d feel the ache of him slipping away once the moment passed.

But that never happened.

Instead, everything between you and Joel shifted that night, as if a door that had always been locked was suddenly wide open. You had thought it would be one moment, a single night where you could pretend that his touch was a promise, that his kisses meant as much to him as they did to you. But he didn’t let you go, didn’t pull back into that safe distance of friendship once the night had passed. Instead, he lingered, stayed close, as if he was finding something in you he hadn’t expected, as if he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

The next morning, you’d braced yourself, heart pounding as you turned to face him, expecting to see the hesitation, the discomfort. But instead, you found him watching you, his expression soft, almost vulnerable, as he reached for you again. “Hey,” he murmured, and his hand found yours, fingers intertwining with a certainty that left you breathless.

And from there, it didn’t stop.

Joel didn’t hesitate, didn’t second-guess the leap you both had taken. In the weeks that followed, it was as if he had been waiting just as long, holding back feelings he hadn’t even realized he had. He wasn’t careful, wasn’t cautious; he didn’t linger in that unsure space between friendship and something more. Instead, he was all in, crossing every line with a steadiness that left you dizzy.

It only took him two months to raise the bar, to show you what it was like to be truly wanted. He’d come over with flowers in hand like it was nothing, his face breaking into a grin when you’d open the door, as if the sight of you made everything right. He’d brush hair from your face, a little slower than he used to, letting his fingers linger on your cheek, his gaze holding a warmth you’d once only dreamed of. There was no hesitation in his touches now, no holding back. He’d pull you close on a crowded street, run his fingers down your arm as you laughed over breakfast, hold you just because you were there. With Joel, you never had to wonder if you were enough.

And you found yourself slipping into those roles, playing the parts of the lovers you’d once watched from a distance. You both did, almost instinctively. At first, it felt strange, like you were walking on a stage, wearing someone else’s life. You’d spend your days together, trying to believe it was real, that the Joel who laughed into your shoulder and kissed you in the middle of a conversation was yours.

The first time he told you he’d fallen for you, it was casual, thrown in like he’d said it a thousand times before, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Even in the warmth of his love, in the softness of his gaze when he looked at you, there was always a flicker of something else, something he couldn’t quite hide. A shadow that lingered behind his smile, a sadness that clung to him no matter how hard he tried to bury it. You could see it in the quiet moments, when the laughter faded, and he’d look at you as if he was searching for something, as if he was afraid of losing you even while you were right there in his arms.

It hurt to see that sadness in him, knowing you couldn’t reach it, couldn’t pull him fully into the light. You’d watch him sometimes, catch him lost in thought, his eyes distant, and wonder if he was thinking of his past—of the scars he’d carried from those who had left him, the pieces of himself he’d lost along the way. There were nights when he’d hold you close, his grip a little tighter, as if you were an anchor keeping him grounded, and you’d feel the weight of that sadness, as if he was trying to drown it in the warmth between you.

One evening, after a quiet dinner, you both sat on the couch, his arm around you, fingers tracing lazy circles on your shoulder. The glow of the lamplight softened everything around you, casting shadows that danced across his face. You could see the sadness there, deeper tonight, almost heavy enough to spill over. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, he looked as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“Joel,” you whispered, reaching up to brush your fingers along his jaw, hoping to ease the ache you saw in him. “What is it?”

He looked down, his thumb moving over your knuckles in slow, soothing circles, as if he was gathering his thoughts. “Sometimes, I think about… how lucky I am to have you,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “And it scares me. Because I’ve lost things before. People. And… I don’t ever want that to happen with us. I don’t want to wake up and find out this was just… I don’t know, a dream.”

You felt your heart twist, aching for him, for the years he’d spent holding onto pain he couldn’t let go of. And yet, you also understood. You’d been best friends for so long, and even in love, you could sense that he was still trying to protect himself, to guard that broken part of him that he feared would shatter if he let himself believe too much, hope too much.

So you held his face in your hands, meeting his gaze with a steady resolve. “I’m not going anywhere, Joel. I’m here, and I want to be here. Whatever shadows you carry, I’ll be here to help you face them. I love you, all of you. Even the parts that hurt.”

His eyes softened, and he looked at you like you were something he didn’t deserve, something precious he’d stumbled upon and was still afraid to hold too tightly. But then, he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours, closing his eyes as he let himself breathe, let himself feel the weight of your words.

But you knew, just as he did, that there was a part of him still haunted by her—by the girl he’d lost, the one who followed him like a ghost he could never quite shake. She lingered in the quiet corners of his mind, a memory that wouldn’t fade, an echo that haunted him even when he was wrapped in your arms. You could feel it in the way he held you sometimes, as if he was clinging to the present but couldn’t fully leave the past behind.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love you. You knew he did; you could feel it in every touch, in every whispered word. But there was a part of him still lost in a place you couldn’t reach, tethered to memories you could never truly understand. He didn’t talk about her, didn’t bring her up, and you never pushed him to. Still, you sensed the weight of her shadow in his silences, in the moments when his gaze grew distant, as though he was looking right through you to someone who wasn’t there.

It was a strange thing, learning to share him with a memory, a ghost that still lived somewhere deep inside him. You’d told yourself you could handle it, that you could be patient, that one day he’d let go of her completely. But some nights, when you caught him staring into the distance with that quiet sadness in his eyes, you felt a pang of jealousy—not for her, but for the part of him she still held captive.

In those moments, you couldn’t help but wonder if she would always be there, lingering just beyond the reach of what you and Joel were building together. If he’d ever truly be able to let go, to give himself over to this love without the pull of that past, that echo.

"Sometimes, it feels like I’m not really here," you said, voice tight with a vulnerability you’d tried to keep hidden. "Like you’re looking past me—to her."

Joel’s eyes flicked up, surprised by the intensity in your voice. He shifted, as if he wasn’t quite sure where this was coming from, but the sadness you’d seen in him so many times was still there, familiar and frustrating. "That’s not fair," he murmured, his tone soft but guarded. "You know it’s not like that."

“Then what is it like, Joel?” you demanded, feeling a pang of guilt even as the words escaped. “Because every time you get that look in your eyes, every time you drift off… it’s her, isn’t it?”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, weary. “She was a part of my life. I can’t just erase that.”

"And what about us?” you shot back, the words sharper than you intended. “Do I always have to share you with her? Am I ever going to be enough, or am I just supposed to be okay with half of you?”

Joel’s jaw clenched, and he looked away, his face shadowed. “You don’t understand,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then help me understand, Joel,” you pleaded, your voice cracking. “I’ve tried. I’ve been patient, I’ve given you space, but it’s like… it’s like there’s this wall between us that I can’t get past. And I don’t know if I ever will.”

He looked back at you then, his gaze heavy with something unreadable. “It’s not about you,” he said, frustration seeping into his tone. “This is my burden, my past. It doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

“But it does mean you’re not all here,” you replied, the words trembling with pain. “And I can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever be.”

There was a long, aching silence as your words hung in the air. Joel looked away, his face set in a hard line, and for a moment, you felt a wave of regret, of fear that maybe you’d pushed too far. But you needed him to hear it. Needed him to understand how much it hurt to be constantly measured against a memory, to feel like you were always fighting to pull him into the present.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and raw. “I’m trying. But it’s not that simple. You think I don’t want to let go? You think I don’t want to be… whole?”

The vulnerability in his voice was almost too much, cutting through your anger and leaving you feeling exposed. You could see how much he wanted to give you what you deserved, how he hated the way he was bound to a past he couldn’t change. And yet, part of you still felt that ache, that longing for a love that wasn’t haunted by shadows.

“I don’t want to be your second choice, Joel,” you whispered, feeling the tears rise, though you tried to blink them away. “I don’t want to keep feeling like I’m… not enough.”

Joel reached for you then, his hand finding yours, his grip firm but gentle. “You’re not my second choice,” he said softly, his voice barely holding together. “You’re the one here, the one I want. I just… sometimes, I don’t know how to shake the past. I don’t know how to make it stop hurting.”

You looked down at your joined hands, the warmth of his touch grounding you even as you felt the weight of his words settle heavy on your heart. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let his words reassure you, but the doubt lingered, a painful reminder of the distance that still stretched between you.

“I know you’re trying, Joel,” you said quietly. “But I know better than to wait for you back here.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you prepared to say the words you’d kept buried for too long. “I mean… I can’t keep standing on the sidelines, hoping one day you’ll be fully here. I can’t be the one waiting for you to decide if you’re ready to move on.” You paused, watching as his face registered the meaning of your words, a flicker of fear crossing his eyes. “I love you, Joel. But I can’t keep giving all of myself if you’re not ready to do the same.”

He looked at you, the silence stretching between you, and you could see the conflict etched into his expression. “You think I don’t want that?” he whispered, his voice breaking. “You think I don’t wish every day that I could leave all that behind?”

“I know you do,” you replied, feeling your own voice tremble. “But wishing isn’t enough. I need to know that you’re here, that this—us—isn’t just you trying to fill some empty space.”

He took a step closer, his hand tightening around yours. “You’re not just filling a space, not to me,” he insisted, his voice filled with a rawness you rarely saw. “But… I don’t know how to give you more when there’s still a part of me that’s… trapped there.”

You nodded, a painful understanding settling over you. “I know. And maybe that’s something you have to work through—without me.”

His grip loosened, and you felt the weight of your words sink in, the realization in his eyes piercing. He opened his mouth to argue, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he looked at you, the anguish plain on his face, and you knew he understood. This wasn’t what you wanted, wasn’t the ending you’d dreamed of, but you also knew it was the only way forward.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said finally, his voice barely a whisper.

“And I don’t want to lose you either, Joel,” you replied, your own voice choked with emotion. “But I can’t lose myself waiting for you to be ready.” You paused, your own breath shaking. “I’ve breaking my own heart for years already. I can’t do it anymore” you confessed, the truth spilling out in a rush, leaving you feeling exposed. The words hung in the air, heavy with all the unspoken feelings that had built up between you over time. You had spent so long convincing yourself that you could wait, that love would be enough to bridge the gap, but now it felt like the dam had finally burst.

He flinched, his expression twisting with a mix of regret and sorrow. “I didn’t realize…” His voice trailed off, the weight of your admission hitting him like a freight train.

“I never wanted to hurt you. You’ve always been my best friend, and now you’re so much more. I just thought… I thought we had time.”

You shook your head, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Time is what I don’t have, Joel. I’ve given so much of myself to this, to us, and I thought it would be enough. But now, standing here, I see it’s not just about love.”

He swallowed hard, the realization dawning on him. “You’re right. I need to figure this out. I can’t just keep pretending it’s all okay when it’s not.”

The truth of his words cut through you, leaving a raw ache in your chest. You wanted him to be free, to find that peace, but the thought of stepping away felt like tearing off a bandage that had just begun to heal. “I care about you, Joel. I always will. But I need to put myself first for once.”

“Please don’t go,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to lose you. You’re the best part of my life.”

You could see the pain in his eyes, and it nearly broke you. “I need space,” you whispered, barely able to hold it together. “I was brave enough when I let you in. I need to find out who I am without you being my everything. Maybe one day, we can find our way back to each other. But right now… I just can’t.”

The weight of your words hung in the air between you, heavy with the uncharted territory of separation. You could see the flicker of panic in Joel’s eyes, the realization that he might lose the one person who understood him the most. But you knew that this was necessary—for both of you.

He opened his mouth, searching for the right words, but they wouldn’t come. Instead, he simply stood there, helpless, as you took a step back. “I don’t want to lose you,” he repeated, the raw vulnerability in his voice piercing through you. “You’re the only one who knows me like this, who gets me. What if… what if we can find a way to work through this together?”

Your heart twisted at the thought, but you had to be strong. “I don’t think I can be what you need right now,” you said softly. “And you deserve to heal without me holding you back. I’ve become a crutch, Joel, and I don’t want to be that. You need to find yourself again, without the ghost of her and without me. We both do.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration mixing with despair. “I don’t want to face the world without you by my side. You make everything better, you know? I can’t imagine not having you here.”

You felt a tear escape, rolling down your cheek as you realized how much you would miss him too. “I know. But..It’s really a shame we caught each at a bad time,” you said, the words tasting bittersweet on your tongue. The reality of it all hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. You had both wanted more, but life had a way of complicating things, of intertwining your paths at the wrong moments.

Joel looked at you, his expression shifting as if he were grappling with the same sentiment.

I wish things could be different. I wish I could turn back time and be in a place where I could give you everything you deserve.”

The ache in your chest deepened. “Me too,” you admitted softly. “But wishing won’t change anything. I can’t keep hoping that one day you’ll wake up and be ready to love me the way I need to be loved. You need to find your way first, Joel.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of your words pressed down on him. “I know. I just… I don’t want to lose you in the process. I don’t want this to be the end for us.”

“It doesn’t have to be the end,” you said, feeling a flicker of hope amid the sorrow. “Maybe when you heal, I’ll be there still waiting, but now I have to free myself from you.”

“It doesn’t have to be the end,” you said, feeling a flicker of hope amid the sorrow. “Maybe when you heal, I’ll still be there waiting, but right now, I have to free myself from you.”

His brow furrowed as he took in your words, and you could see the conflict within him, a part of him wanting to fight against the inevitable. “Free yourself from me? That sounds so final,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “What if I need you?”

“It’s not about what you need right now, Joel,” you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “It’s about what I need too. I’ve spent too long being your comfort, your escape from pain, and I’ve lost sight of who I am in the process. I need to find myself again, separate from you and your memories.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you raised a hand, cutting him off gently. “I care about you deeply. I always will. But I can’t be your crutch. I can’t let my happiness depend on your healing. It’s unfair to both of us.”

The silence that followed was heavy, a shared understanding lingering in the air. You could see the flicker of realization in his eyes, the understanding that your decision was not just about him—it was about you reclaiming your own life, your own identity.

“I just wish…” he began, his voice trailing off.

“I know,” you interrupted softly. “I wish too. But wishing isn’t enough. We both deserve to find our own paths, even if it’s hard. Even if it hurts.”

He nodded slowly, the understanding settling in, and you felt a pang of sorrow for the love that had been, but also a glimmer of hope for what could be.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling the weight of what you were about to say. “Before I go, I want you to know something important,” you said, your voice steady but filled with emotion. “I don’t think of you as a bad guy for reaching out to me when you needed comfort. You were kind to me, and you opened your heart in ways I never expected. It’s okay to seek solace in the people who care about you. Just like you were there for me, I was always there for you, and I don’t regret that.”

His eyes met yours, vulnerability shining through the sadness. “I didn’t mean to put you in this position,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know,” you said softly, a tear escaping as you fought to keep your emotions in check. “And I don’t blame you. We were both trying to find our way, and sometimes, it’s messy. I’m not angry with you for needing me, or for those moments we shared. I just need to prioritize myself now.”

He nodded, the understanding settling deeper between you. “I just wish things could be different. I wish I could give you everything you deserve.”

“I wish that too,” you admitted, your heart aching at the thought of what could have been. “But I need to find out who I am beyond us. We both deserve that.”

You took a step back, feeling the distance grow between you, both physical and emotional. “I’m going to take some time for myself. I need to breathe, to figure out what I want. I hope you do the same.”

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling the weight of what you were about to say. “Before I go, I want you to know something important,” you said, your voice steady but filled with emotion. “I don’t think of you as a bad guy for reaching out to me when you needed comfort. You were kind to me, and you opened your heart in ways I never expected. It’s okay to seek solace in the people who care about you. Just like you were there for me, I was always there for you, and I don’t regret that.”

His eyes met yours, vulnerability shining through the sadness. “I didn’t mean to put you in this position,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know,” you said softly, a tear escaping as you fought to keep your emotions in check. “And I don’t blame you. We were both trying to find our way, and sometimes, it’s messy. I’m not angry with you for needing me, or for those moments we shared. I just need to prioritize myself now.”

He nodded, the understanding settling deeper between you. “I just wish things could be different. I wish I could give you everything you deserve.”

“I wish that too,” you admitted, your heart aching at the thought of what could have been. “But I need to find out who I am beyond us. We both deserve that.”

You took a step back, feeling the distance grow between you, both physical and emotional. “I’m going to take some time for myself. I need to breathe, to figure out what I want. I hope you do the same.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you raised a hand again, cutting him off gently. “Let’s not prolong this. It’s hard enough as it is. Just know that I care about you, and I always will. You’ve been an important part of my life.”

With one last lingering look, you turned to leave, each step feeling heavier than the last. The door behind you closed with a soft click, sealing away the warmth of what you once shared and leaving behind a bittersweet ache in your chest. You took a deep breath as you stepped into the world outside.

A world without Joel and you crossing paths again.

Five years later, you stood in front of the mirror, your heart racing as you adjusted the veil that framed your face. The reflection staring back at you was beautiful, but it felt like a stranger wearing a mask. The dress hugged your body in all the right places, the delicate lace and flowing fabric crafted with love, but it couldn’t hide the uncertainty churning inside you.

As you applied the final touches of makeup, you could hear the soft hum of voices filtering through the closed door. Friends and family gathered outside, their excited chatter mingling with the gentle music playing in the background. They were all waiting for you, eager to celebrate a love that was supposed to be yours. Yet, as the minutes ticked away, a feeling of pressure weighed heavily on your chest, a sense of urgency that made you question everything.

You thought about the man waiting for you at the altar, a kind and caring soul who had been there for you in ways you had never expected. He loved you deeply, and you admired him for it. But as you glanced at your reflection, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. Was this truly love? Or were you just filling a void left by someone else?

And then there was Joel. The memories of him flooded your mind like a bittersweet wave. The moments you shared, the laughter and the pain, the way he had opened your heart and left you wanting more. You hadn’t seen him in years, and yet he lingered in your thoughts, a ghost of what could have been. The ache for him had faded, but it had never truly disappeared. You had always wondered if you could love someone else as deeply as you had loved him.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself, ready to face the music outside. As you turned toward the door, your heart pounded louder, each beat echoing your uncertainty. Just then, a firm grip on your wrist stopped you in your tracks.

“Wait,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I need to talk to you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the world around you fading away as you stared into his eyes, those deep, expressive eyes that had once held your heart captive. Everything you had thought you’d left behind rushed back in an instant, and for a moment, you were both suspended in time—two souls that had once been so close, now standing on the precipice of an unknown future.

“Joel,” you breathed, the weight of his presence crashing over you. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you,” he replied, his grip on your wrist tightening just enough to show how serious he was. “I know this is crazy, but I couldn’t let you walk down that aisle without telling you how I feel.”

The air between you crackled with unspoken words, memories swirling like ghosts in the space around you. You could feel the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders, and as you glanced back at the mirror, you caught a glimpse of the reflection you had tried to ignore. It was a moment of reckoning, one that could change everything.

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 1

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings: 

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, Azriel is kind an idiot, Rhys is for once a good older brother, and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

Azriel was currently regretting his life choices that had brought him to this moment. 

“Wow,” Cassian drawled as he stared at the wall in Azriel‘s room in the House of Wind that was covered in…research. 

Intelligence. Information. Whatever one wanted to call it. 

And Azriel was ready to rip his hair out. 

“I did it all wrong,” he growled, slamming the dusty old tome the shadows had procured for him closed…only for them to take it out of his hands and open it up to check for themselves. 

“What did you do wrong?” Cassian asked as he stepped nearer to the wall, staring at all the things Azriel had pinned up there. 

It was a complete and utter mess

“This said that I should have given Eira a gift when I made my first courting overture.“

What kind of mate was he, when he couldn’t even follow the bloody rules of human men for her? 

He had been supposed to procure a gift before even asking her to let him court her. He should have started with that gift. Actually no, they would have been supposed to dance together at a ball, then he should have made that decision to court her, then he should have gotten the first gift and then…

“Well, you could argue that since your shadows bought her things, you did it?“ Cassian suggested and Azriel growled.

“That’s not the same,“ he snapped. “I am supposed to give her a gift that shows my deep affection and appreciation of who she is as a person…What in the world am I supposed to give her?“

Cassian chuckled at Azriel’s frustration, stepping closer to the wall and peering at the various items pinned up.

“You’re overthinking this, you know?“ he said, a smirk on his face. “Just give her something that’s meaningful to you and her, something that shows her how important she is to you.“

Azriel growled. This was not helpful. "Also how is a pearl necklace a show of deep affection and appreciation?" he asked Cassian. Cassian just stared at him. "That was one of the first suggestions the book had," he said with a sigh. The book about human courtship rituals. Well, one of them at least. It was better to get his information from more than one source after all.

Cassian crossed his arms over his chest, his smirk only widening. "Well, apparently humans think that something shiny and expensive is the way to go," he teased. "You’re not exactly giving her a ring yet, so you could consider it a placeholder."

Azriel's eyes darkened. "I don’t want a placeholder," he growled. "I want something real. Something that shows her how much she means to me, not just how much I can spend on her."

"Could it be that you are taking this a little bit too seriously?" Cassian said carefully.

Azriel bristled at Cassian’s comment. “Of course not,” he said sharply. “This is Eira. My mate. This isn’t like some casual fling I’ve had for a little fun. This is different, and I won't just let it go without putting the effort in that she deserves.”

Cassian held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I know, I know,” he said, a slight hint of amusement in his voice. “Believe me, I’ve never seen you so worked up over a female before. It’s just…you’re acting as if the fate of the entire world rests on this courtship gift.”

Well, it did. The fate of his entire world. The fate of his children. He needed to get this right.

“You’re being dramatic,” Cassian said, shaking his head. “It’s not like the gift is going to ruin everything. You’re acting like if you don’t get this right, the whole idea of you and Eira being mates will just poof into thin air.”

He growled in annoyance. 

“Are you trying to court my sister or kill her?” Nesta's voice came from the doorway, her arms crossed as she stared at his wall.

Azriel whipped around to see Nesta standing in the doorway. His irritation deepened at her unexpected intrusion.

"Court her, obviously," he grumbled.

Nesta sighed. "“This is obsessive, Az. Also creepy," she told him drily. "You are approaching this like Eira is the King of Hybern and not your mate."

Azriel let out an exasperated growl. He wasn't obsessed; he was just being thorough. He had never cared about anyone as much as he did Eira, and he didn't want to mess this up.

"I’m simply doing my due diligence," he replied, trying to sound as firm and confident as possible. "I won’t fail her. I won't.”

Nesta rolled her eyes at Azriel’s comment. “Then stop acting like she’s some adversary to be conquered and start treating her like your mate already,” she said. “This is about your love for her, not your obsession to control every little detail.”

Cassian snorted, chuckling. “Only you, Az,” he chortled. 

Azriel shot Cassian a dark look, clearly not amused by the comment. “This is not a laughing matter, Cassian,” he said through clenched teeth. “This is serious. I need to get this right, and I can’t afford to mess it up.”

"How about you start with what you know about her? What are her hobbies?" Nesta suggested.

"I am not buying her needles or a shovel or a rolling pin. Or a toy for Nyx," AAzriel responded immediately. He had already gone through all her hobbies: Sewing, gardening for fruits and vegetables and cooking and baking.

Cassian let out a snort, clearly amused by Azriel’s response. “Why not? Those could all be very useful gifts,” he teased. “Especially the rolling pin, I bet she could beat someone over the head with it. You know, for that assassin instinct of hers.”

"Or I could borrow it and hit you with it," Nesta muttered under her breath.

Cassian chuckled at Nesta’s comment. “I’d like to see you try, Nes-“ he began to reply, but was cut off as Azriel growled at them both.

“Enough. I don’t need you two bickering.” He massaged his temples, trying to hold back the headache that was starting to form

"Well, doesn't Eira sing?" Cassian suggested.

Azriel paused slightly and he thought for a moment, recalling a memory of hearing Eira singing softly to herself.

"Yes," he said quietly. "She does. But that doesn't help me at all unless you have an idea in that thick skull of yours."

"She used to play the harp," Nesta said quietly. “Well, not the dead trove harp. A real, human harp,” she clarified.  

Azriel's interest was piqued. "She plays harp?" he asked, turning his attention to Nesta. "In all the time we’ve been together, I’ve never heard her mention that."

"We all learned some kind of instruments. It was vital for a well-rounded education. She was the only one who enjoyed it," Nesta explained.

Azriel thought for a moment. That actually sounded ideal. His shadows immediately perked up at the idea, starting to whisper amongst themselves.

"A harp…" he mused. "A harp could be perfect. If I can manage to find one that's good enough."

Cassian chuckled. "You'll probably spend the next year researching harps, won’t you?" he teased.

"I don't have time for that," Azriel responded.

Cassian rolled his eyes. "Sure, you don’t," he said dryly. "That’s why you’ve been holed up in this room for the past three days researching things humans consider romantic. I bet your research for this is more extensive than your missions."

“She's more important than a mission," Azriel said evenly. "Also, Hybern was less terrifying."

"Go buy her a harp, Az. Alternatively, if you want her to start crying, buy her a kitten," Nesta said with a shrug. "Though maybe not...Though that will only live a decade and then she’ll be heartbroken."

"Why should it die that quickly?" he asked Nesta, furrowing his brows.

Nesta gave him a deadpan look. "Have you never met a cat before, Azriel?" she said. "That’s how long kittens live. A decade, at most. And that's not even considering the time it takes a cat to grow from a kitten to an adult. You’ll be lucky if Eira gets fifteen years."

"Magical cats live...a very long time," Cassian disagreed.

Nesta stared at Cassian. “How long do magical cats live?” she demanded. 

"Well, theoretically forever," Cassian said with a shrug. “Unless they are killed by a predator of course.”

Azriel sighed. He could see where this was going. This was one of those decisions where there was no clear-cut right path.

Cassian, sensing his hesitation, chuckled. “Come on, Az. Where’s that ‘mysterious broody spy’ everyone loves?”

"Kitten or Harp?" he muttered.

"Just buy her one and keep the other for her birthday," Nesta suggested.

Azriel shot Nesta a glare. “Stop thinking so far ahead when I can barely decide on the first one,” he muttered, making her laugh. 

Cassian just smirked. “That’s rich, considering how much work you’ve put into this entire thing.”

*******

Eira had always liked being outside. 

When they had still been in that godforsaken cottage, Eira had taken her mending outside...had doted on that little patch of horrible earth that had only ever managed to grow a couple of potatoes, carrots, radishes and green beans...so many green beans...

But she had loved it. Even the small, withered things she had been able to grow there, it had been her tiny corner outside. She had prised her hands with dirt, tended to those potatoes and carrots, and had felt alive. Now she was terrified to even look outside the window.

Now, Eira would have loved to simply lock herself in her closet, because there was no window there...to go hide there, because maybe there she would be safe…

It was irrational, she knew that. She couldn’t help it. Every time she looked out of a window, she saw them again. Saw these horrible dark uniforms…saw the faces of the men she had killed. She saw them again and her chest burned in response, her stomach turning, bile rising in her throat.

She couldn’t help it. 

"It's healing very well," Madja told her, weathered fingertips trailing over the closed gash just underneath her breast. Eira stared at the ceiling, wishing herself far, far away. It had healed well. In just a few days, it had closed, just a thin red line reminding her of what had happened.

A thin red line and the feeling of lightning crackling underneath her skin. 

Eira winced as Madja touched her tender skin, the scar still sore to the touch. Even with her accelerated healing, it would take some time before she would fully recover.

"Are you still experiencing any pain?" the elderly healer asked kindly, her eyes studying Eira closely. Eira took a deep breath, trying to find her voice. The pain was the least of her worries. She had felt worse. So much worse.

"No, not much," she replied quietly, her eyes fluttering shut. "Just a little...some twinges, here and there."

Madja nodded, her expression a bit sceptical. She had probably seen hundreds, maybe thousands of patients in her life, and she could likely tell when they weren't being entirely truthful. "Are you sure?" she pressed gently.

Eira’s face twisted into a grimace. She didn't want to be....she didn't want to be weak. She didn't want to...She had seen how Cassian's wings had been shredded, how Azriel had an ash bolt shot in his chest...and neither of them had complained. And she...she had a single knife stuck inside her and it felt like…

“Eira,” Feyre said, her voice taking on an edge.

She knew that Feyre was right, she knew that she should be honest with the healer. But saying it out loud, voicing her fears and anxieties, would just make her...so pathetic.

Still, she took a deep breath and looked at Madja, meeting her gaze. "It...It hurts," she admitted quietly. "More than just...it hurts, whenever I move."

Feyre squeezed Eira's hand tightly. Madja nodded, her eyes studying Eira with a careful, almost calculating gaze, before it softened, a flicker of sympathy passing over her features.

"I suspected as much," the healer said bluntly. "A wound like that can heal on the surface, but sometimes the internal damage is more severe than it appears." Eira‘s breath hitched. The internal damage. The internal damage she had done to herself when she had killed these males…when she had…burned them alive. 

"You should rest," Madja said quietly. "You need to give your body time to heal completely, or you'll risk making the damage worse...you can leave the room and sit outside...but you should not do anything strenuous like gardening or training or whatever else you normally get up to. Though the sunshine outside would do you well," Madja pointed out.

Sunshine...outside. Outside. Alone the thought made Eira break out in cold sweat.

Her breathing turned shallow at the thought of being outside. She knew she couldn't stay in this room forever, but...the thought of being outside...Alone...In the open air, with no protective walls around her...It made her heart race. She could feel Feyre's worried gaze on her.

Madja also studied Eira carefully. "No training," she said pointedly, "but you should try to go outside for a little...Sunshine and fresh air will do you good. It's good for healing."

"I...I’ll try," she managed to choke out, her voice barely more than a whisper.

She didn’t want to go outside. She didn’t want to leave her room.

Madja finished, and Feyre went to bring her to the door…leaving Eira alone. She forced herself to sit up, to pull her nightgown back together…and then escaped into the bathing chamber. No windows. No windows meant she was safe. Once the door to the bathing chamber closed firmly behind her, Eira allowed herself to finally break. She sagged against the door, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Alone. No windows. Safe.

She was vaguely aware of tears falling down her face. It seemed like that was all she ever did these days, cry herself into exhaustion. She didn’t even know how often she had woken up that particular night…how often the shadows had come to soothe her back to sleep. The shadows came every time Eira awoke with a start, her heart pounding or tears streaming down her face. They were always there. 

They would whisper to her, wrapping around her like a comforting blanket, soothing her back to sleep.

You are alright, they whispered now too. You are safe.  She wondered if they didn’t have anything better to do. No more important people to spy on. Why don’t you wash your face? the suggested gently. Water. Face.

Wash her face, repeated Eira mentally, slowly gathering her thoughts.

The shadows were right, of course. She should wash her face. Her eyes looked as tired and red-rimmed as she felt. Perhaps washing her face would...would help her feel somewhat better, even if only a little.

She took a deep breath, as she dried her face on the towel the shadows found for her…and then they fluttered around her like a swarm of excited butterflies, bringing her a new nightgown and dressing gown. She took a moment to examine them.  

The nightgown was a much darker colour than her usual ones, a deep, rich blue instead of the usual whites and creams. She looked at the dressing gown, taking note of its heavier fabric. The shadows were right to have chosen it - the nights were getting chilly, after all.

But still… “Did you steal it from Feyre?” She asked weakly, even as they helped her shrug out of the old dressing gown. They let her deal with her nightgown, never touching her naked skin anywhere but her hands and face if they could help it, as they drew the new one over her body…and then stuck silky soft slippers on her feet.

The shadows didn't respond to her question, and for a moment Eira wondered if they even heard her. But she had no time to dwell on it further: they were already working on her hair, untangling her braid with deft, careful movements and brushing it out. They started to braid it again, a new, different braid than the usual ones she wore, pulling it back from her face. The braiding was precise and quick as if they had done this many times before.

“How did you learn that?“ she wondered quietly.

The shadows paused for a moment, almost as if they were contemplating her question. They continued braiding her hair though, a little faster than before.

Practice, they whispered, their voices low and quiet, barely above a whisper.

Eira let out a small huff. Sometimes, she had the distinct impression that the shadows were purposefully not answering her questions, or giving her a non-answer, as they had just done. But she didn’t have the energy to press them for an answer, no matter how much she wanted to hear one.

So instead, she just leaned against the sink quietly, letting the shadows tend to her hair.

You should go outside. The sun is shining. The healer said it would be good for you.

No. She didn’t want to go outside. She didn’t want to…She wanted to stay in this room, in this safe, dark and windowless room…

She didn’t want sunshine. Didn’t want fresh air. 

It would do you good, the shadows continued, their voices low and soothing. Go outside. Sit in the sun.

“I can’t.“ she forced out.

The shadows paused in their work, just for a moment.

You can, they insisted firmly, their voices growing almost persuasive. It’s good for you. You will feel better once you go.

She highly doubted that. Her hands turned clammy at only the thought.  As soon as the shadows finished braiding her hair, they flitted away, making a beeline for the door. Eira tried to call out, to stop them, to tell them that no, she couldn’t go, but the words died in her throat, the door opening before she could even try.

Rhys was there, standing in the middle of her room.

She had no clue what he even wanted from her. She had spent the last couple of days…resting. Sleeping half the day away, which wasn’t helped by her nightmares at seemingly every damn moment…Nesta and Feyre had kept her company when they had. She hadn’t so much as sneak a peek at Azriel since their…talk two days ago. Though his shadows were a constant companion of hers, doting on her like a cat would do to a sole kitten. 

Now…Eira’s heart thudded in her chest at the sight of him. He didn’t look angry, but he didn’t look...friendly either. He just looked at her with watchful, careful eyes as she stared back at him, frozen like a deer before a hunter.

The silence was thick, stretched thin like a rope that was about to snap. Eira bit her lip, unable to tear her gaze away from Rhys’ searching stare. She could feel a sheen of sweat on her skin, her heart thudding so hard she was surprised it hadn’t burst out of her chest yet.

Her knees trembled, and she nearly pitched forward, if the shadows hadn’t caught her. The shadows appeared out of thin air, wrapping themselves around her like a silky, dark blanket as she swayed on her feet. They held her up, stopping her from falling to the ground.

Rhys was suddenly at her side, wrapping his arms around her as well, his hands warm and firm against her cold, clammy skin.

“Shhh, I got you, little one,” he shushed her. Rhys’ voice was soft, gentle, and soothing, his hands firm around her. Eira sagged against him gratefully, her body trembling and her breath coming in short gasps.

“It’s alright. I won’t let you fall,” he murmured, as he scooped her up, easily carrying her like she weighed nothing.

She thought she probably didn’t. Just because he didn’t have arms the size of tree trunks like Cassian did, didn’t mean that Rhys wasn’t an Illyrian warrior trained in his own right. 

He had absolutely no problem with just swinging her up like she did to Nyx. 

“Bed or do you want to brave the garden?” he asked her carefully. “Madja said some fresh air would be good for you.”

Of course, he already knew. 

She swallowed, her heart racing.

Bed was safe, comfortable, and familiar. She wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the day there, under the covers and away from the world. To go outside...to face the wide-open sky...that was a terrifying prospect.

“Bed,” she whispered.

Rhys nodded, carrying her over to the bed and gently placing her on it. The shadows fluffed the pillows behind her, letting her lean against them in a comfortable position.

She expected her brother-in-law to disappear again, though she had no clue why he had even come to see her in the first place. Didn’t he have something more important to do? Like, run this court maybe? 

But he didn’t disappear again. Instead, he sat down next to her, not touching her, just staying close enough that she could feel his presence. “Madja said the garden would be good for you,” Rhys insisted quietly. He wasn’t looking at her as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the wall across the room. “Fresh air, sunshine...she said it would help you recover faster,” he continued, his voice neutral.

Recover. Recover what? Recover that bit of her that had died on that playground when she had killed these men without even thinking about it? She had taken multiple lives. And she was just supposed to be fine with it?!

Eira chewed on her lower lip. She knew what the healer had said, but...the thought of going outside, of being away from the safety of these four walls, was enough to send her heart racing in her chest.

“I...” she started, her voice trembling. “I can’t.”

Rhys turned to look at her then, his expression carefully neutral. “Why not?” he asked, his voice quiet but firm. ”It’s just the garden,” he said evenly.

Eira felt a flicker of irritation rise in her chest at his words.

”it was just the playground,” she shot back shakily. Rhys visibly froze, his eyes widening as he flinched visibly. She could see the pain in his eyes, the hurt and the guilt...but she didn’t care. She couldn’t care.

“Eira...” he started, his voice suddenly hoarse.

“I can’t,” she whispered. She knew it was stupid. She knew. But she couldn’t help it. It must be ridiculous to him, to a 500-year-old warrior that she was afraid of facing the outside but she couldn’t help it. She was utterly terrified. 

“You need to heal,” he said quietly, his voice gentle but firm. “You need the sunshine, the fresh air. You can’t just stay locked up in here forever...” She could. 

She really could. 

If it stopped her from feeling like dying, she would stay right here for the rest of her life. 

“What…What is it that scares you?” Rhys asked her gently.  Her breath hitched in her throat at his question.

She opened her mouth, trying to find the words to explain how terrified she was, how the very thought of leaving this room filled her with a sense of dread that was nearly paralysing… “I don’t want it to happen again,” she choked out.

Rhys’ face darkened at her words, his eyes filling with anger and pain.

“It won’t,” he said, his voice tight. “I won’t let it. You’re safe, Eira. No one will hurt you in that garden. I swear.”

Eira wanted to believe him, wanted desperately to cling to his words like a lifeline...but she couldn’t. The fear lodged in her chest like a rock, refusing to be dislodged.

“You can’t promise that,” she whispered, her voice small and shaky.

“Yes, I can,” Rhys cut her off. “You’ll go outside and I’ll be right there. And if any rogue darkbringers suddenly show up, I’ll mist them with a single thought,” he promised her fiercely. “It won’t happen again.”

Her breath caught in her throat, her heart beating furiously in her chest. It sounded so easy when he said it like that, so simple. He would keep her safe, keep her protected...

“Let’s just try it,“ Rhys said softly. “We can go back inside if you can’t stand it, little one.”

Eira chewed on her lower lip, her fingers trembling in her lap.

Just try it. We can go back inside if you can’t stand it. 

Those words gave her a small flicker of hope, a lifeline to cling to. Eira took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady her nerves. “Alright,” she agreed weakly.

Rhys smiled at her words, the expression strained but genuine. He stood up from the bed, holding out his hand to her.

“Come on then,” he said gently. “Let’s go sit in the garden.”

Eira swallowed, her entire body tense with anxiety. She looked at his outstretched hand, feeling her heart race at the thought of taking it.

For a moment, she couldn’t move, her entire body frozen and immobile. But then, with trembling fingers, she reached out and slowly took his hand.

Rhys’ hand was warm, strong and firm around hers. He held her hand gently, as if he were afraid she might break, and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“That’s it,” he murmured gently. “We can go as slowly as you need.”

She nodded weakly, her knuckles turning white as she gripped his hand tightly. Slowly, hesitantly, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her body trembled as she stood up, her feet feeling unsteady on the floor.

Rhys was there, hovering close to her side, supporting her gently as she took her first shaky steps away from the bed. The shadows flitted around her like dark, flickering butterflies, whispering reassuring words that she could barely hear over the pounding of her heart.

“Eira…how about you let me carry you?”

Her breath hitched at the suggestion, her heart skipping a beat.

Her first instinct was to refuse, to shake her head and insist on walking on her own. But her legs felt like jelly, her steps unsteady and shaky...and she hated the thought of looking weak, of being lifted like some helpless child.

But as much as she hated it, she knew she would crumble if she walked on her own, her legs giving out like a newborn fawn.

So, with a small, defeated nod, she agreed.

“I…alright,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Rhys wasted no time in scooping her up in his arms, lifting her with ease. She tried not to let it bother her, not to think about how pathetic she must look, being cradled like a child.

The shadows fluttered closer, their dark forms brushing against her skin as they whispered gentle words of reassurance.

You’re doing well. one of them whispered in her ear, its voice low and soothing. The High Lord is right here. You’re safe.

"It will be fine," Rhys promised her as he carried her down the stairs, making no appearance that the extra weight of her in his arms bothered him in any way. "Just outside. We'll sit on the terrace, and nothing bad will happen."

Eira clung to his words like a lifeline, her hands trembling as they clutched at his shoulder.

She tried to ignore the way her heart raced, the way her blood thundered in her ears...she tried to focus on Rhys’ voice, on his words assuring her that it would be fine.

The terrace wasn’t far, it seemed. Soon enough, they were there, the doors swinging open silently as they approached.

Outside. Out of the relative safety of the house. Outside.

Eira clenched her teeth, the panic rising in her chest.

The air around them was fresh and crisp, the faint scent of grass and trees filling her nostrils. The sun streamed down, its warmth caressing her skin...and yet, Eira felt cold, her breath coming in small, shallow gasps as her heart thumped against her chest.

The wide-open space, the vastness of the sky, was suddenly so much more overwhelming. It felt like it was pressing down on her like it was closing in...

She heard a deep rumble of thunder, could feel something static-y in the air...felt the taste of metal in her mouth...

"Take a deep breath, Little One," Rhys soothed her. "It's alright. We are there already..." Just a moment later, he put her down onto the soft cushion that covered the lounge area on one side of the terrace...a place where she had often laid down Nyx for his afternoon nap this summer...

The plush cushions were a familiar comfort, their softness reminding her of the times she had spent with her nephew…

She tried to focus on that, on the memories of those times instead of the overwhelming feeling of being outside...but as she looked around, as she took in the sheer vastness of the sky stretching out in every direction, it was almost too much.

Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, and she found herself clinging to Rhys’ arm, her fingers digging into his skin.

"You are alright," he promised her again. She knew it was ridiculous. He must think she was utterly mental that being outside scared her, overwhelmed her into silent fear.

Eira was sure he must think her completely insane: Scared of being outside, of being in the open...it was ridiculous. It was pathetic.

But she couldn’t help it, no matter how much she tried to calm herself down, to shove her fear back down. It had a hold on her, a tight grip that she couldn’t shake no matter how hard she tried.

"It's alright to be afraid," Rhys said quietly. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

Eira tried to believe his words, tried to take comfort in them. But it was hard, so hard. Her fear felt so stupid, so silly, so pointless.

She should be able to handle being outside, shouldn’t be so terrified of it…and yet here she was, clinging to Rhys like a frightened child, her heart thundering in her chest. The High Lord of the Night Court had volunteered to be her protector and she was still utterly and completely...terrified.

The shadows fluttered around her, sensing her fear, her terror...whispering softly in her ear, trying to calm her, to soothe her. But even their attempts couldn’t stop the way her body trembled, the way her heart raced.

Rhys wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer to his side. His touch was gentle but firm, a silent reassurance that he was there, that she wasn’t alone.

"You have every right to be afraid, Eira. That doesn't make you weak, little sister. It only means that you went through something traumatic and you haven't fully dealt with that yet," Rhys said softly. "I still wake up from nightmares. So does your sister. Cassian, Azriel...all of us deal with that as well."

"I am pathetic, " she whimpered.

Rhys’ expression darkened at her words, his jaw clenching.

“No, you’re not,” he said, his voice firm. “You’re the farthest thing from pathetic, Eira. Some fully fledged warriors would have taken one look at these Darkbringers and ran. They wouldn’t have stood their ground.” He huffed, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t you ever call yourself that again? Do you understand me?”

"In what world am I brave?" Eira asked weakly, her hands still trembling, fear settled in some kind of panic in the back of her brain, leaving her utterly spent and exhausted.

"You threw yourself between my son and a knife, Eira," Rhys told her drily. "In what world isn't that brave?"

Eira’s breath hitched in her throat as he spoke, and her mind suddenly filled with the memory of that day.

She had done that, hadn’t she? She had thrown herself in front of a knife for Nyx, not caring what happened to herself as long as the baby was safe… For Nyx, she had done that. She hadn't thought twice about it either.

But it had been for a good cause, in a moment of crisis. This…this was just her being weak. This was her reduced to a trembling, blubbering mess, too scared to do anything but cling to Rhys like a child for comfort. How did that make her brave?

"I know it doesn't feel that way right now, but it does get easier," Rhys promised her softly.

She wanted to believe him, she really did. But right now, it was hard. The fear felt so overwhelming, so all-consuming, that it was hard to imagine ever feeling anything else.

Eira took a deep, shaky breath, her body trembling as she tried to control her emotions. But despite her attempts to steady herself, she couldn’t seem to calm down. Her heart raced, her hands clammy, her breath coming in short, anxious gasps.

“It’s alright,” Rhys said softly, his voice reassuring. “I’m right here. You’re safe.”

The shadows fluttered around them,  brushing against her hands in a soothing caress.

Slowly, slowly, the fear that had consumed her began to ease, the frantic thumping of her heart returning to a more normal rhythm. She took a deep, shaky breath, feeling her body relax slightly in Rhys’ embrace.

"I am scared all the time," he continued softly.

Eira felt a flicker of surprise at his admission, her eyes widening slightly. She had never, ever considered that Rhys might be afraid. He was so powerful, so confident and in control...it almost seemed impossible to believe.

“But...why?” she asked, her voice small and wavering. “What could possibly scare you?”

Rhys chuckled softly at her question, a humourless sound that seemed almost bitter. “Plenty of things, little one,” he replied, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “More things than you could imagine.”

Eira frowned, her confusion growing. She had always assumed that Rhys was above fear, that he was somehow above the worries and anxieties that plagued the rest of them. To hear him admit otherwise...it was jarring, to say the least.

“What...What are you afraid of?” she asked softly, her voice so quiet she could barely hear it over the sound of her heart beating in her ears.

Rhys was silent for a moment, his expression growing more serious.

“Losing my mate,” he said quietly. “Losing my son. I'm afraid that if I don't keep them safe if I make a single mistake, it could all be taken from me.” He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he spoke. "I'm afraid that one day I'll wake up and it will all have been nothing but a dream. That it was never real.”

She had never considered that he might be scared...that he might feel the same way that she did, the same fear and uncertainty that gripped her heart with a vice-like grip.

"It's real," she promised her brother quietly. "It's real, Rhys."

Rhys smiled faintly, his expression softening slightly as he looked down at her.

"I know it is,” he said quietly. “But it doesn’t make the fear go away."

Eira felt a pang of sympathy in her chest at his words.

She knew all too well what it was like to feel the weight of fear, the way it could consume you and control you and leave you feeling helpless. And yet, to hear Rhys, the High Lord of the Night Court, a man so powerful that he could crumble mountains with a snap of his fingers...

It was almost surreal.

“How do you deal with it?” she asked quietly, her voice quivering slightly. “The...the fear. How do you make it go away?”

Rhys was silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful.

"I don’t make it go away,” he said finally. “I don’t think that’s possible. The fear is always there, lurking in the back of my mind, waiting for me to let my guard down." He paused, his gaze fixed on some point over her head. “I just…I try to keep it at bay, remind myself that it’s just a feeling, that it doesn’t have to control me. I focus on the people I love, on the things that matter."

Eira felt her heartache at his words. She knew that feeling, that constant fear that lurked in the back of your mind, waiting for a moment to strike. And yet, to hear Rhys say that he felt the same...it almost made her feel better, to know that she wasn’t alone in her fear.

"Look at the flowers growing...Look at your vegetable patch," Rhys said softly. "Feel the fabric underneath you...Look at Nyx being happy and smiling..." She looked up to see Feyre walk outside, Nyx on her hip who happily squealed as soon as he saw Eira.

Eira's heart lurched at the sight of the baby, her chest constricting with emotion.

Nyx wriggled on Feyre's hip, reaching out his tiny arms towards her, babbling happily as he recognized her. Eira couldn't help but smile, her heart melting at the sight of the baby's little face. Feyre smiled, walking closer to Eira and Rhys, with Nyx bouncing on her hip.

The baby was babbling happily, his eyes fixed on Eira as he reached out for her. "Look how happy he is to see his Aunt Ra Ra" Feyre said gently, a fond smile adorning her lovely face.

"Ra Ra!" Nyx cheered at that moment, and Feyre sat him on Eira's lap, sitting next to her.

Eira felt her heart melt as Nyx settled himself on her lap, his little body bouncing with energy.

The baby looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes, his little fingers reaching out to grab at her hair. He babbled happily, his voice high-pitched and cheerful.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close to her chest as he continued to babble and coo.

Safe, untouched. 

She was safe. Maybe one day she would believe that again. 

[beardedjoel]

pretty little wife | better now

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 summary: 3.9k words, a snippet of a day in the life of husband! joel and his lovely housewife | no apocalypse au, no use of y/n warnings: 18+ MDNI! pre-established relationship/dynamic, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, cum play, spit kink, exhibition kink, dirty talk, pet names for reader, brief mention of alcohol, generally extremely submissive reader so if you're into that this is for you! a/n: not pretending this is anything other than some little fantasy i had that i needed to write out. i'm really excited about this one shot series for husband!joel though, i have some really fun (and depraved) ideas planned for these two for future blurbs so stayed tuned if you like this one! reblogs + comments are always loved and appreciated! ♡

i've decided to start a kofi in case anyone wants to consider a small donation to support my work! ♡

How’s my pretty little wife today?

The words you look forward to each day, falling from your husbands lips in some form or another, whether it’s rasped tenderly in your ear, from between your legs as he smirks up at you, or from over your shoulder as he slams his cock into you, sending you to heaven and back down as soon as he can after walking in the door after work.  

Joel asks the question today after walking up behind you in the backyard, his mouth already next to your ear, warm breath tickling along your skin there as he brushes your hair over your shoulder. The wiry texture of his beard nuzzles right into your neck, sending a thrill down your spine as his arms slide around your waist and hold you tightly to him, swaying you back and forth. The motion is soothing, reminding you that you’re right where you’re meant to be.  

You can smell the workday on him - sweat and dirt and the outdoors, and the lingering scent of the cologne you’d given him this past Christmas. He’d sprayed it on this morning, as he does every morning since you bought it for him. Makes me think of you all day, he’d remind you while you’d watched from your bed with a teasing smile, sheet disheveled and draped over your naked body.

You breathe all of it in, savoring this scent unique to your husband, before touching your hand to where his rests around your belly and stroking it gently.

“Better now,” you answer. More times than not, that’s your response to his routine question, knowing it drives him wild, makes a long day of work ache a little less when he hears you say it.

“S’what I like to hear,” he says, a kiss on your neck leading up to your lips - a long, deep, ravenous kiss that already leaves you breathless. He pulls away so suddenly you nearly have whiplash, your head falling slightly into nothing, missing his lips.

“Smells good out here,” Joel comments, turning his nose up in the air slightly. “Usin’ the new pizza oven already?” 

When you’d made a passing comment about wishing you could make wood fired pizzas at home, just like the ones a restaurant in town serves, Joel seemed to take it seriously, as he did with most things involving your wishes and desires. The next weekend, he’d hauled in bricks and began his work. You’d stepped out into the yard when you heard all the commotion, giving him a quizzical stare, and he’d simply grinned and shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world that he should be building his wife a pizza oven. You’d nearly teared up, feeling grateful and giddy with excitement at your new toy to experiment with. 

Within a few weekends, Joel had finished his new project, always seeming to need one to have around the house, wiping the sweat off his forehead and gleaming with pride at it as he showed you the final product. You’d practically jumped for joy but settled on flinging yourself into his arms to show your appreciation. When that had turned into him fucking you on top of the kitchen counter moments later after he went inside to fetch a cold drink, you hadn’t minded one bit.

“I couldn’t wait,” you say with a grin. When Joel nuzzles your neck again you start to lose your train of thought. His lips press a gentle kiss right on your pulse point, and you sigh into it. “T-trying out margherita today,” you manage to squeak out.

“Hmm,” Joel says, seemingly contemplating the flavor choice in between latching his lips on your neck and sucking, marking you over and over. You’re sure the ones from mere days ago haven’t faded all the way, a smattering of them going right down to your tits, but Joel always needs a fresh mark on you as soon as they start to fade, a way for you to always remember you’re his. He grinds his hard length into your back on the next touch of his lips, and you arch into it a little, your cunt starting to ache more needily for him. 

“F-fresh basil… from the… gar-” you gasp as he pulls you completely flush against his cock, letting out a little, devious laugh.

“Sounds fuckin’ delicious, baby,” he replies. His fingers reach down and toy with the front hem of your dress, delicately sliding his calloused fingers up your thighs, bunching the fabric as he goes. The warmth of his hands on your bare skin blazes a trail up to the apex of your thighs, finally cupping a hand around your warm heat. You instinctively grind into the heel of his hand, and can practically feel Joel smirking behind you. His fingers brush the outside of your panties, starting to rub circles on the wet fabric. He lets out a low growl, deep and needy in the back of his throat feeling the evidence of how much you’d anticipated him coming home. 

“So wet for me already, huh, doll? Couldn’t wait f’me to get home ‘n take care of ya, I bet,” Joel taunts in your ear before sucking on the lobe, and you’ve gone breathless now, nodding your head. His fingers tease the edge of your panties again, finally slipping one underneath the fabric, feeling the obscenity of your wetness directly, and he lets out an impressed tut, sucking in air between his teeth. You nearly moan out at the smallest touch he’s giving you, the way his rough, worn fingers gently brush over your clit for just a split second. 

“She’s so needy, ain’t she?” Joel coos in your ear, swiping a finger to your entrance and back to your clit. You can feel how slickness quickly gathers on Joel’s digits as he teases you. You squeeze your eyes shut and lean back into him, letting your head drop to his shoulder as pleasure wracks your body already.

“Mhm… needs you,” you murmur, turning your head towards his where he meets your lips, continuing steady strokes on your aching bundle of nerves. His lips are softer than you’d think, looking at the hardened grump behind them, but like so many parts of Joel, they are only soft for you.

“Needy, needy girl… good thing I’ve been thinkin’ about gettin’ my cock in that little cunt of yours all day.”

“A-all day?” you say with a little smirk, rutting your ass back into his throbbing length, and Joel groans with the friction.

“Second I pulled out of it this mornin’,” he replies, low voice drumming against your skin, and you shudder, desperate for what you know he’s about to do.

Another routine of yours - Joel comes home from work, and more days than not, he fucks you. And you enjoy every second of it, basking in the attention and his cock filling you up in the way nobody and nothing else can. You crave him night and day, never having gotten your fill, wondering if you ever could. His hunger for you in return only fuels the fire, a vicious circle the two of you seem to have no intention of breaking.

Your weakness lies completely in the man standing behind you, burying his fingers in between your legs and making you moan out wildly before he’s even had his way with you.

“Fuck, gotta get this cock in you, baby, split you open f’me so good, fuck you stupid,” Joel grunts suddenly, interrupting your swirling thoughts, withdrawing his fingers in a flash and leaving you whimpering. It’s not fair, the way he affects you. 

Nobody should have this power over you, but the minute you’d met Joel, you couldn’t deny the way he’d made you feel. Masculine and warm, rough hands and broad shoulders that you’d clung to that same night you’d met him in a bar, fucking mere hours later in the bathroom. Even in your drunken haze you’d submitted to him fully, Joel having no problem ordering and throwing you around the bathroom like you were just a toy to play with, his little doll. You’d found that you could never look back after that night, the safety he represented to you, the adoration he showered you with, the way he fucked you like it was his last time every time. When Joel saw how willing you were to be his in the way he craved from a woman, there was no stopping the insatiable beast he became, hellbent on never letting another man feel your touch again. Joel promised you a good life, an amazing life, even, and in the last few years, he had more than delivered for you. 

“Hush now, you’ll have what you want in a second,” he says, running a quick stroke of his fingers through your hair, giving it a tug. On principle, you let out a little mewl at the sensation, too many instances of your hair being tugged and pulled with Joel involved to not recall those memories with the pain of it. You hear the jangle of his belt as he frees himself from his jeans, the familiar sound of Joel’s thick, heavy cock slapping against his hand as he fists it. You’re already cock drunk without having seen the damn thing yet, and it’s nearly laughable how pliable you are when Joel’s involved. It’s always been that way - you’ve been happy to oblige his every desire, no matter when, where, how he wanted it, or the frequency. You were his to use, to pleasure, to fuck senseless, and you got off on the way all of it steadily built his need for you just as much as it did with your need for him.

“Please…” you whine, trying to slip out of his grasp and start for the sliding glass door to the house, making the assumption that he’d be taking you inside at any moment to take what he needed from you. 

Joel immediately tightens his hold on you, a dark tut in your ear that goes straight to your clit.

“Not so fast, little doll,” he croons, hand grabbing your cunt through your dress again to hold you to him. “Right here,” he adds on, turning your body towards the outdoor dining table in the backyard. 

“J-Joel… right here?” you question, knowing you shouldn’t. It won’t matter anyways. “The… t-the neighbors…” you whimper quietly as Joel crowds you against the table, tearing your dress up over your ass, revealing your lacy little thong to him. He groans at the sight of your bare ass ready for him to claim before roughly shimmying your underwear halfway down your thighs. He places a rough hand on your back, pressing you down into the table so that you’re completely bent over, your hands splaying out into the wood to support yourself. 

“Let them see…” Joel says quietly, a heady murmur as he slips his cock between your thighs and notches himself at your weeping entrance. “Let them see how much I love fuckin’ my wife.” He pushes in on the last sentence, and you gasp at the stretch and burn of his girth. Your vision goes white for a moment with the mix of pure pain and pleasure, and your mouth hangs open, panting in delight as he fills you inch by inch. 

“Mmm… such a sweet little pussy, honey…” Joel says quietly once he’s seated fully inside of you. He’s just as lost in the bliss of it as you are. “Know I’d fuckin’ live right here if I could.”

You give him a little moan of satisfaction, wiggling your hips to give yourself any sensation of movement from his cock. He places his hands on either side of your hips, squeezing his grip tightly enough to bruise before starting to thrust himself into you. You cry out in a yelp, the noise passing though your lips before you can even control it. 

“Yeah…” you whimper, face pressed against the table, trying to peek up as Joel looms above you, like some higher being that has the power to decide your fate, to decide the pleasure or pain you’ll have to endure in this moment. And truthfully, you do worship him. The way he moves inside of you, makes you crumble underneath even the lightest of his touches. The way he spoils you in every regard - you’ve never wanted for a single thing for as long as you’ve been Joel’s, him vowing to take care of everything you ever need, and in return, you take care of everything he needs. 

To some, it might seem like there’s a lack of balance in the way you do things, but fuck do you love it, you think as you desperately cling onto the table, manicured nails digging into the wood as Joel’s cock rams back into you, pressing so deep inside of you that you see stars.

You let out a low, strangled sound, whining as Joel begins to press against your cervix, the front of your thighs bumping into the table with every new thrust from him. He grunts with the exertion, fucking into you hard, taking what he wants, leaving you both breathless with the need for more of each other. You let Joel take and take and take because of how much he gives in return - while he loves to use you, he always makes sure you get every bit of pleasure you deserve for being so good to him.

When you continuously moan louder as Joel fucks you towards your high, you glance around, the small sliver of your brain that’s still rational worried about you two getting caught by your neighbors. The thought is equally mortifying as it is thrilling, but you decide you’d rather not deal with the embarrassment today if you can help it.

“Still worried about the neighbors, hm, pretty girl? I’ve got an idea,” Joel says, responding to your sudden nervousness. Before you can even answer, his hands are wrapping around your shoulders, urging you up from the table. You follow along, breathless and dazed, letting him move you as he wishes, too deliriously starry eyed for him to care about anything else other than what Joel is gearing up to do to you next.

He accidentally slides out with the movement of your body, and immediately he’s grasping at your hips, practically clawing his way back to you as he pulls you tight to his body again. His throbbing, dripping cock slaps periodically against your ass as he shoves you forward, pushing your body towards the house. 

“Here,” he grits out, suddenly crowding your body from behind to press you against the sliding glass door. “That better?”

“I- yes,” you say, eyes wide from the way you’d been roughly handled by him the last few moments. Your cunt aches almost painfully, having been getting so close to your climax only to have it ripped away suddenly when Joel decided to move you.

“Good,” he snips quietly. “Couldn’t stand to keep this cock out of you much longer’n this.”

With his words he brings his lips to the back of your neck again, just his heavy breathing fanning across the skin there, making you wild as he repositions himself and nudges your legs apart with his knee. You feel the length of him tease between your legs, sliding up to your entrance again. He groans loudly, letting you know how badly he wants you, so you try to pop your hips up at just the right angle you know he’s looking for. 

He slides in effortlessly and with a renewed vigor, hips snapping into you, pressing you further into the sliding glass door with neither of you seeming to be worried about the way it’s suddenly shaking on the frame. It’s completely lewd, the way you imagine the two of you - your entire body against glass, tits being pressed out the top of your dress and bouncing, palms spread against the smooth surface, nails clawing and unable to grasp at anything.

Your body is shaking in his hold now, Joel’s cock hitting inside of you in all the right places. You can feel yourself tensing, almost like every cell is going taut, your core pooling heat deep inside of you with molten pleasure from Joel hitting the spongy bit inside of you. 

“Fuck, love it when you sound like that f’me, doll,” Joel punches out as he hears your moans becoming louder and more desperate the longer he continues to thrust against your g-spot. You can’t respond, only continue your lustful noises with a renewed vigor as you try to bounce your hips back into his thrusts, getting him deeper than what’s even possible, the length of him already burying up to the hilt each time he drives himself into you.

“Know you wanna come for me, baby,” he says right in your ear, voice hoarse with need, and you whimper in response as his hand snakes around your hips and in between your legs, circling a gentle pressure on your clit. 

You feel your hold on reality completely break, your eyes squeezing shut as you melt into the way your entire body is tingling with pleasure now, waves of it turning into spasms as you go practically limp with shaky knees. Joel’s hands hold you in place, his warm strength keeping you upright as you push down onto his cock, riding out your climax and screaming for him. 

When your movements start to slow and your body relaxes, Joel thrusts into you even harder, loving the way you’re so compliant and soft after climaxing, letting him move in you however he needs as you ride out the sensitive aftershocks with a few quiet yelps.

“This little pussy is all mine, y’know that, right?” Joel reminds you through clenched teeth, giving your ass a firm slap. You nod vigorously, eyes still half lidded and mind scrambled from the way he’d shattered you mere moments ago.

“Y-yes, Joel,” you say when he slaps your ass again, demanding an answer. Your breathy answer is enough to get him to his own climax, and he surprises you by pulling out suddenly, leaving your body lurching back into nothing, missing the fullness of him already. Before you can protest, say anything, Joel’s hands grip your shoulders and spin you around and push down, forcing you onto your knees in one fluid, swift motion. You watch, wide eyed, as he fists his throbbing cock, shiny and coated in your own slick arousal as he spreads it along his shaft in jerking motions.

“Be a good girl and open up,” he commands, and you submit to the words immediately, mouth hanging open, even sticking your tongue out for good measure. Joel smirks at that before giving himself another swift tug, and you watch in renewed wonder as he begins to spill himself all over your face, ropes of cum hitting your skin. You taste him on your tongue immediately, savoring it. Your eyes are glued up on Joel’s face, watching his glazed gaze taking in the scene below him as he groans in pleasure, trying not to tilt his head back and get lost in the moment so he doesn’t miss a beat of your beautiful surrender to him.

“Fuck,” he mutters as he watches the last bits of his release hit your tongue. “Don’t you dare swallow that, yet, doll,” he adds on quickly, eyes fluttering for a moment before he tucks himself back into his slacks. He continues to tower over you for a prolonged few seconds, looking down in satisfaction at the image of your glowing, angelic face coated in something so sinful, the milky substance starting to drip down your face, your tongue trembling slightly with the need to swallow.

“Hold still,” he says needlessly since as the words come out of his mouth he grabs your chin, tilting your head upwards and gathering spit, letting a long, tortuously slow drip of it fall into your open mouth. It lands on your tongue, combining with his cum and Joel smirks again, releasing your chin.

“Swallow, my little doll,” he says, voice starting to go soft, an indication that he’s feeling satisfied and finished with his enjoyment of you. You close your mouth, smile, and swallow obviously for him, licking your lips for good measure. 

Joel holds out a hand, helping you stand, your legs buckling slightly as you try to get your bearings. He carefully smooths your disheveled dress, flattening the bottom half and tugging the neckline back into place before fixing the straps to sit perfectly square on your shoulders, eyes roaming over quickly to examine his work with pride. His hands then move to your hair, brushing his fingers gently to put it back in its place, leaving every part of you like none of this had just happened besides your face, still dripping with his spill. Your smile widens, seeing him watch a particularly large spot of it sliding down your cheek. You see his composure fail for a moment before he strokes your cheek gently, avoiding any of the mess there, giving you soft, affectionate eyes.

“Good girl,” he says quietly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Pizza’s probably ready,” he adds on, the casual tone taking you aback for only a moment before you blink yourself back to reality and nod dutifully.

“Of course,” you say, a genuine smile plastered on your face as you look at your handsome husband, admiring the way he’s looking at you with stars dancing across his eyes, the deepest love for you tucked away in his deep brown irises.

“After you get that, go clean yourself up, doll,” he says, and you nod again, the smile not leaving your face. You see out of the corner of your eye Joel settle onto one of the chairs at your outdoor table, leaning back casually as if he hadn’t just had you bent over that exact table, fucking you for the entire neighborhood to possibly see and hear.

You gather everything you need, serving utensils, plates, and two cold beers before bringing it to the table along with the pizza and a freshly tossed salad you’d made to accompany it. Each time you drop something off, the smirk on Joel’s face grows, watching the way you work with the evidence of his obsession with you still lingering on your flushed cheeks.

Once the table is set and your face cleaned off, you join Joel outside to enjoy the beautiful spring evening, and see he’s already served you two generous slices of the margherita pizza. 

He reaches a hand onto the table, taking yours delicately into his palm, dwarfing it with the size of his thick fingers as he absentmindedly runs his thumb along your knuckles, stopping to play with the large, gorgeous diamond on your ring finger. Another reminder to him that he has you all to himself, his pretty little wife.

“Thanks for dinner, baby” he says, eyes locked on yours as he uses a free hand to pick up the pizza and take a large bite, letting out a little noise in satisfaction at the flavor.

“Anytime.” You smile, genuine and tranquil, a fresh appreciation and love for the life you’ve found yourself so grateful to be living.

tysm to @jupiter-soups @huffle-punk @rensraptor for so much help with ideas and writing this fic! love u guys x

[redroomreflections]

Hair Care

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Request: Bestie I'll always come with requests :D how about in the early TLH days with Nat asking r to teach her how to do R's hair after maybe R stayed with her at the compound for the first time? Very soft and gentle Nat 💕

The Loud House Universe

It was quiet at the compound, the kind of stillness that only came late at night when everyone had retreated to their rooms and the hum of the facility faded into the background. You sat cross-legged on Natasha’s bed, your fingers working through your hair in steady, practiced motions. You had come to stay with Natasha for the first time, and though the unfamiliarity of the compound felt overwhelming at times, moments like this — peaceful and soft — made it feel like home.

It's a ritual you've known all your life - the detangling, the sectioning, the careful twisting. Something was grounding about it that reminded you of home and your mother spending her weeknights doing this very process. You didn't plan on needing to do your hair at Natasha's place. You also didn't plan on the hours of lovemaking that would inevitably cause this very process right here.

A smile graced your face as you remembered the feel of her lips pressed against your own.

Natasha leaned against the doorway, her eyes never leaving yours. She had always admired how you carried yourself — the quiet confidence, the grace that came so naturally. But there was something about watching you care for your hair that felt… sacred. Each curl you tenderly worked through, each product you applied with intention, it all felt like a ritual, a language she didn’t yet understand but wanted to learn. She stood there, captivated, unsure of how to ask the questions forming in her mind.

This was Natasha’s first time with someone so different from herself, and it made her feel uncharacteristically unsure. It wasn’t just your hair — though that alone fascinated her — it was everything about you. The way you navigated the world with a different kind of strength, a resilience born from experiences she’d never had to face. There was an authenticity about you that felt grounding, in contrast to the many layers of disguise and deception she’d worn her entire life.

When Natasha allowed herself to date in the past, it was always fleeting. Simple flings, a few weeks here, a few months there. Nothing lasting, nothing too personal. Her life as a spy required distance, a self-imposed detachment. Getting close to someone had always felt like a risk she couldn’t afford. But this was different.

With you, it wasn’t about quick connections or keeping things easy. It was about learning, about appreciating the parts of you that felt foreign to her but so integral to who you were. The way you cared for your hair, and your skin, the love you put into the routines that kept you grounded — it was all new to her. Natasha’s curiosity was piqued, not just out of habit or professional interest, but because she genuinely wanted to understand. She wanted to know every part of you, even the parts that had nothing to do with her.

Her fingers twitched at her sides as she wondered how to ask. It wasn’t a simple question of wanting to learn how to braid or twist; it was about wanting to be closer, to understand this beautiful part of your life she hadn’t experienced before.

You looked up, meeting her eyes and smiling softly. She was always beautiful, but there was something about the way her green eyes looked in this moment, a tenderness to her gaze you hadn't seen before. It took your breath away.

You could feel her restlessness from the few feet away and you let out a small laugh. "You can help, you know." You reached out to her, and grabbed the comb from the bed to pass to her.

"I don't want to mess it up," Natasha said unsurely.

"Well, you didn't think about that when you were knocking my head against the headboard," You pointed out.

Natasha rolled her eyes, but a grin tugged at her lips. She stepped forward, taking the comb. "You can guide me," she suggested, settling behind you. She rested her hands on your shoulders, giving a light squeeze before trailing them down the length of your arms.

"What should I do?" she asked.

"Just keep going. Section out a little bit more and pull back," you instructed, pointing to the area where she should begin.

"Like this?" she asked, pulling gently on a section of hair.

"Yeah, and then take the comb, and run it through like this," you guided her hand with yours, showing her the motion.

Natasha smiled as she watched her hands work, focused intently on her task. This felt different than what she had done with others. In the past, her sexual exploits were mostly based in a shared understanding — a desire to fuck and not much else. But this was different. With you, everything felt heightened, each touch and look more significant than it ever had before. Natasha didn't want to hurt you, or disappoint you. She wanted to learn, to experience this with you in the same way you'd experienced everything with her.

"A braid would be nice," You offered.

"Okay," Natasha replied, following your instructions carefully.

You hummed, and closed your eyes as she worked, relishing the feel of her nimble fingers twisting through your hair.

Natasha finished, wrapping an elastic around the end of your braid.

"I know you have questions," You spoke aloud.

"How do you know?"

"It's written all over your face."

Natasha leaned forward, her chest brushing against your shoulders. She wrapped her arms around your midsection, kissing the exposed skin of your neck.

"Is this what you did when you were younger?"

You nodded.

"You're beautiful," she breathed against your neck. "All of you."

"Thank you," You murmured. "Of course back then my mom took care of it." You informed her. "She did my hair, and we watched movies."

"Tell me about them," Natasha encouraged, settling back down and wrapping her arms around your waist again.

"They were funny," You said. "Mostly things she wouldn't allow me to watch on my own. That way we could have open discussions about certain things. My favorite was Waiting to Exhale. I was attracted to Angela Bassett."

"Hmm, she's a beautiful woman," Natasha mused.

"Yeah," You said. "Haircare days weren't always my favorite but with three siblings it was always a way for me to spend time with her."

Natasha gave a gentle squeeze to your hips, encouraging you to continue.

"She was never afraid to allow me to try different hair colors, or cuts, or styles," You explained. "I went through a straightening phase in early high school. She quickly put a stop to that."

Natasha smiled. "Sounds like you two had a lot of fun together."

"We did."

Natasha kissed the back of your neck, holding her lips against your skin for a moment before pulling away.

"I want my daughters to feel the same pride in their hair and their skin," You said softly. Your relationship is still too new to talk about long-term plans together but, you'd like to think that she would be there too. "If that ever comes about."

Natasha hummed. "You're going to be a great mother."

You smiled. "I hope so," You shrug. "What's your favorite hairstyle of mine?"

"Hmm," Natasha thought for a second."I like the braids you get. The single ones in your hair what did you call them?"

"Box braids," You laughed.

"Yes! They suit you." She nodded. "I like you natural too."

"I'll have to let my hair breathe for a little," You said. "Though it's a protective style getting braids back to back can be tension-heavy."

"Protective style?"

"Yeah," You said. "You know... a hairstyle that doesn't require a lot of maintenance, or that protects the hair."

"Gotcha," Natasha nodded.

"So," You leaned back into her. "Do you want me to teach you how to care for it?"

"I would love that," She grinned.

"Okay," You nodded and then looked down at your braid.

"I love it when you share things about yourself," She said. "Especially things that mean so much to you. And, I liked this, even though I didn't know what I was doing."

You turned and looked back at her, kissing her cheek. "I love you, Nat."

Natasha smiled, a flush creeping up her cheeks. "I love you, too."

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Perfect Score - Chapter 5 - Ice Princess | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: Moving on to the North, before the match with Cregan and Sara, everything comes to a head | Word Count: 7.2k~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: *deep breath* jealous!aemond, swearing, degradation, heaps of sexual tension, one room in the hotel trope, aemond being a sexual menace, a lot of dirty talk, p in v unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, creampie, mild angst

A/N: *me barking writing all the warnings* I ain't got nothing else to say I-

Comments, reblogs & likes are always appreciated in this household. I love u 😚

“What the fuck was that?!” El shouts over the video call, making you cradle your face in your hands. 

She’s showing you her front camera, tapping on the TV in front of her as she rewinds the footage of your routine at Casterly Rock. She must have replayed that specific part about ten times now.

She taps the screen harshly, “Look at that! You’re fucking blushing, you whore!”

“El, please” you reply, exasperated.

“Is that a fucking bruise on your leg”

"El!" You shout over the phone, making her press her lips together in a mischievous grin.

"Did you get a bit too cozy?" She teases,

"Fuck off"

"You both look completely different. Also that triple spin, that was fucking perfect"

"Thank you" you say flatly, rolling your eyes, remembering doing it in the routine.

You don't remember the time between the dressing room and getting on the ice. Just the steady hum of the crowd's applause as the announcer welcomed the representatives of the Crownlands.

"Performing second is Aemond Targaryen with his not-so-new skating partner, who proved herself significantly in the deciding match for the Championship tour"

"They were both very icy in that performance. Let's see if anything has improved"

You run over all the jumps and spins, in case your mind is so preoccupied that you've somehow forgotten. Smoothing down your hair and your skirt, desperately trying to hide any proof of his fingerprints, you take your spot in the middle of the ice.

For this routine, it begins with Aemond facing you, and when he pauses to a halt before you, you meet his gaze briefly, feeling the warmth creeping up to your cheeks.

Before he left the dressing room, he looked nervous. But that facade is gone. He looks deadly serious, and you hate to admit that the look he's giving you, performance or not, is so piercing and purposeful that it's almost exciting. Arousing? No, focus.

At the other match, his touch had been calculated, firm and almost rigid. His movements were largely the same, as you had pointed out only the day before. But now, his touch is so whisper soft it's almost undetectable. His fingers dance across your bare skin, a path of goosebumps left in their wake. Except this time, his eyes barely ever leave yours, fully aware of the effect of his touch and a ghost of a smile lob-sided on his face.

Every single touch of his hands on your waist to lift you, every hold to lunge into a jump together and every shared gaze never fails to have your stomach roll pleasantly inside you, settling between your thighs where Aemond had touched you not a moment before.

You come together, skating backwards for the triple spin. His hands brace your waist, and you swallow anxiously.

"Remember to tuck your arms in" he whispers, you nod, running over what you need to do, "you've got this"

"I'm seeing a stark difference in attitude in this performance. Perhaps our icy couple are starting to warm up"

Taking a steadying breath, Aemond does as he needs and flings you in the air, ready to catch you once you've done one, two, three spins, before taking your hand once you land.

Right leg, push…

You can't help but smile when you land it. That's the best feeling in the world, when the crowd applauds.

"She's done it! Another graceful landing!"

You release the breath you'd been tightly holding, gliding through the rest of the routine with Aemond to the view of the stands, some of them stood and some seated in applause.

It's only when you are stopped, with Aemond's arms around your middle and feeling his hurried breath against your back, that you can finally form a thought. Your heart beats furiously in your chest, lungs dry.

"Well done" he breathes, hot against the shell of your ear. The praise goes straight to your core.

"Oop, I saw that look. Perhaps the Ice Prince has an Ice Princess in his sights"

"Oh come on, look at the way he's looking at you!" El beams over the video call, tearing you from your thoughts, "I swear to all the gods, if y'all don't smash-"

"Can I have one conversation with you that isn't about fucking please?"

El pulls a face, "What can I say. Hoes United. Are you kidding me? Ice Princess? He better be calling you princess between the sheet-"

"Goodbye, El"

You hang up, heaving a large sigh, staring forwards at the bed with your packed duffle bag, ready to depart once again in the car with Arryk. 

It was clear as day, the difference between you and Aemond. The attitude.

The commentators dubbed you his 'Ice Princess', a nickname which you hate immensely. Several reporters had flocked to the hotel you were both staying in, all hanging around Arryk's car waiting for a chance to speak to the famed 'couple'.

The match was a success at least, no doubt because of the 'warming up' to one another, as the commentators graciously put it. You received good scores, marginally better technically than Johanna and Jason but ultimately winning most on performance, the former of which wiggled her eyebrow at you as she hugged you in congratulations during scoring.

She didn't dare say anything. The cameras would pick it up, no doubt.

A seasoned pro in that respect.

As per usual, you and Aemond were hauled into the back of Arryk's car provided by Hightower Management, sat together on opposite ends. 

Also as usual, Aemond had his airpods shoved inside his ears, turned away towards the window. Usually, you'd be able to hear the music blasting through his earphones. But you couldn't hear a thing. 

Perhaps he just wanted to be left alone.

His hands were clasped tight in his lap, his left leg bouncing. And you had to turn away towards your own window to stop staring at him in his sweatpants, feeling your face and neck get hot just thinking about what happened between you two.

The journey to Winterfell was several hours. You couldn't possibly be faster getting out the car and grabbing your stuff, walking straight past Aemond to go into the foyer of 'The Lone Wolf', a humble yet large hotel in the heart of Winterfell. Owned by none other than the Stark Family, so the idea of seeing Cregan before the match sent anxious flutters in your stomach.

"Good morning, Miss" the receptionist says with a polite customer service brimmed smile.

"Hello, uh, should be some rooms booked under Hightower?"

She nods, her fingernails clicking against the keyboard, "Just let me check for you…"

You ignore the white-haired male in your periphery, leaning against the desk by one of his forearms, one airpod now safely tucked away. When you spare a brief glance, he's not looking at you, but at the woman as she types quickly, flexing his fingers on the desk. You swallow thick at the closeness, sidestepping an inch.

The lady pulls a face.

"I'm afraid there seems to have been an administrative issue with the booking…"

Your skin starts to erupt in worry, "what issue?.."

The receptionist meets your eyes, her lips drawn flat in apology, "There is only one room on the Hightower booking…"

You go cold all over, staring back for a long moment without saying anything.

"A twin?" you ask,

She shakes her head, "a double.."

Your hand braces your forehead, leaning against the desk, "Fuck"

An awkward silence passes before you ask, "there aren't any other rooms?"

"I'm afraid not. We're full because of the skating match in a few days"

Aemond bites the inside of his cheek, his face stoic, "Is there a sofa? In the room?"

She reluctantly nods, "Yes but only a 2 seater-"

"That's fine" Aemond says immediately, holding his hand out and clapping the keycard in his grasp. He sighs and turns to you, smirking slightly at the horrified look on your face, "Let's go then, business partner"

You feel like you stand stock still, frozen into place, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought of sharing such intimate space with Aemond.

I've got to be the most fucking unlucky person in Westeros.

By the time you catch your breath, having checked to see if Arryk had already left (which unfortunately he had), you're walking hurriedly to the room, standing before the numbered door for a moment as if to psych yourself up for the next day and a bit that will be inevitably be spent in extremely close proximity with Aemond.

The hotel room is luckily wide, with an en-suite situated in the corner as well as a wide curved window that looks out over the roof of another building. Aemond shucks his bag onto the sofa, his well muscled back moves as he unzips it and pulls his belongings out.

He barely moves his head, "You gonna unpack or just stand there?"

Hot embarrassment combined with subtle anger nips at your insides. You pull your lips into a flat line to hold you back from retorting and huff your bag onto the bed, pulling off your jacket. 

Aemond won't stop you from getting comfortable.

"Will you fit on that 2-seater?"

Aemond shrugs, still busied with unpacking, "I've slept on worse"

Usually, unpacking is a time for relaxation, making a home of the hotel room. But here, with Aemond, it feels like you're on guard the entire time, methodically grabbing the more intimate items of clothing and putting them away as quickly as you can.

Suddenly, the shorts you're wearing feels just a bit too revealing, the hem lapping at your thighs barely. Every now and then, you feel his gaze on them, setting every hair on edge. But when you look back at him, he just does that little lob-sided smug smile, pretending to be busy with something else.

You push your palms over the skirt of your dress anxiously, feeling a nervous sweat coat them "Okay well…" you murmur awkwardly, "I'm gonna…to go downstairs for a bit"

You're barely turned, hand on the door when Aemond chuckles, low, in his chest, "Desperate to get away from me, hm?"

You freeze, not daring to turn back. All you can hear is the soft press of his trainers on the carpet as he turns away, and you just know he's looking at you. 

The inside of your mouth is so dry.

"I know what you're thinking, I can see it on your face" he muses quietly, his voice edging closer to your back as you're frozen on the spot, "I know you've been thinking about what we did, in the dressing room"

No I haven't.

Yes I have.

Fuck.

As much as the thoughts whizz around your head, they don't make the connection to your mouth. You can feel how close Aemond must be to your back, and your fingers tighten over the handle of the door.

"You have, haven't you?" He grins darkly, his voice an octave lower, quieter, more calculated, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it"

Your breath is stuck in your ribs, arousal pooling slowly in your belly, like the calm tide of the ocean sweeping in to wet the sand. 

You feel his breath against your neck and ear, blowing the hair at the side of your face. His mere presence behind you. 

"See you tonight"

Almost as soon as he says it, you're out the door, pushing it shut behind you forcefully. Shutting out the feeling that you desperately want to disappear. The mere memory of his hands on your bare thighs that day sets urgency in your core, hands clenched tight at your sides. 

But more than anything, the way he kissed you, was the feeling you remembered the most. You recall moments after he'd rushed out, touching your kiss-swollen lips, willing the feeling of them back, realising just what line had been crossed.

Aemond Targaryen was an infuriatingly good kisser. Just like the way he moves on the ice, he's smooth and deliberate, taking his time. And it translated in the passion of that moment, the way his hand had grasped the back of your neck, and the other had spread your legs to accommodate him standing between them…

…How his hardness had pressed against your clothed core.

Aemond had been aroused.

Everything you thought about him, about how he felt about you, could very well be misplaced. 

You don't know how to feel about that.

It goes against everything you thought. Everything you believed.

And he still hasn't apologised. He'd said pretty words, all but those two you really needed.

Nothing would happen until he did. You'd make sure of that.

Torture him right back. It's the least he deserves.

Prick.

The hotel bar is better than anticipated, with several tables and chairs, even stools that line the front of the large oak counter on one side of the room. You don't usually partake in drinking, or at least much. But every now and then you feel you deserve it.

And right now for example, it's taking the edge off.

The large glass windows show you just how dark outside it already is, with the streetlights beaming through the single glazing. The North is different, obviously, but you didn't quite consider the weather.

Your muscles ache from doing your cardio, choosing to train on the ice tomorrow instead, the day before the match with Cregan and Sara. The hotel gym was nice, and each time you went into the hotel room to change, you worried about running into Aemond.

But luckily he was nowhere to be found.

Where he'd gone?

Not your problem, you surmise.

You were dressed once again in black, but nowhere near as flashy as the after-party from weeks before, but still a nice enough dress that it completely didn't work with the use of a bra. Hightower Management had organised a small get-together of the skaters currently in the North, as a way of showing support, despite all of you being quite literally competitors.

This includes the Singles skaters.

With that, they insisted you and Aemond look presentable.

You were there early, as a means of…avoiding Aemond in the hotel room. With so far, success.

A few figures begin to leak into the bar area, a few you don't recognise, but then a sea of silver-hair you actually would like to see.

Baela and Rhaena, clad in equally stunning blue dresses, bound up to you with gleaming teethy smiles. You stand excitedly meeting them in the middle, a shared female squeal of excitement is the only sound emitted.

"There she is!" Baela shouts, and both the twins envelop you in an equally tight hug.

"Jesus, guys there's only one of me, bit looser please" you joke, pretending to be out of breath.

They pull back, their silver curls sitting loose with silver accessories, "Our Ice Princess!" Rhaena jabs with a mischievous smile.

You can't help but roll your eyes, "Don't you fucking start, I've had enough of that"

Baela laughs, "had enough of your Ice Prince as well?" 

You give her a warning look and the twins hold back their smile, dropping the subject as per your glare. Knowing how you can get.

"How is Pairs?" Rhaena asks,

You sigh, "Different" is all you respond, "How's Singles? Rhaenys giving you a hard time?"

They both groan comically at the same time, "is she? When is she not giving us a hard time? She's our grandmother"

You laugh, sipping your drink, "Ah yeah, forgive me, I do forget sometimes she's a gilf"

"She's not a gilf!" Baela retorts, making you snort a laugh. Almost dropping the glass in your hand.

"Who's not a gilf?" 

You all turn and beam, "Jace! When did you get here!" Baela throws herself at him, as does Rhaena as soon as her sister lets go. Sometimes you forget they're cousins, they look so different.

"Hi Jace" you smile, "How have you been?" You ask giving him a hug, which he returns with one hand politely on your back.

"Alright, competitions kicking my ass though"

"Oh dear" you pout, faking a sad face and patting his shoulder, "You'll get over it"

"Thanks, you're so kind" Jace grins.

Over his shoulder you spot him, lurking in a corner with a phone pressed to his ear. 

Aemond.

He's dressed all in black again, hair in a loose bun, with a button down and dress pants, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a chain that glints beneath the collar. You swallow at his expression.

He doesn't look pleased in the slightest.

But annoyingly, he does look good.

His eye flits from you and Jace, before realising that you're watching him, to which his attention falls entirely to you. You wonder if he's actually on the phone since he doesn't say anything.

"There she is. The Ice Princess" Cregan Stark obstructs your view for a moment and you smile politely.

"Hi, Cregan-umf"

Your outstretched hand in greeting is completely ignored as Cregan pulls you into a hug, his massive form completely swallowing yours.

"You're in the North, we hug here" he laughs, the vibrations rumbling through your chest, his hand politely in the middle of your back to gently squeeze the hug for longer than you'd think.

Your eyes immediately go to Aemond, over his shoulder. He hasn't moved an inch. But he's hung up his phone, slapping it on his thigh to shove into his pocket. You can't pin down what that look is, but the muscle in his jaw tenses when he looks at Cregan, softening into a smirk when the Northerner pulls away.

Your throat feels tight.

"I know you've been thinking about what we did, in the dressing room"

He doesn't look away, eyes trained on your body. Unabashedly raking over it.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about it"

"Drinks!" Baela announces, dragging you luckily to the bar, breaking your staring competition with Aemond.

As the night progresses, you get to know Cregan and Sara. They couldn't be more different from one another, despite being half siblings. Sara has a fire in her belly, and a competitive eye, whereas Cregan is like a big, muscly Northern golden retriever. He looks like the kind of guy who lifts at the gym in one breath and in another would be having afternoon tea with his grandmother.

The duality takes you off guard multiple times during the night.

Jace and Cregan at least seem very close, having trained together multiple times. They're like long lost brothers, the way Cregan has him in a soft headlock as they wobble back to the bar, is proof enough.

Sara leans close to you, "Is he always like that?"

"Who?" You ask, sipping the drink you've been nursing for hours. Not wanting to get drunk in the slightest.

She nods to the corner, "Your Ice Prince. Aptly named by the way he stares at you"

You follow her line of sight, your core instantly clenching at the sight of him. Perhaps you hadn't really realised it before but several of his top buttons are undone, showing more of his skin at a formal event than he had previously.

You swallow, "Oh, uh, yeah he is. Ignore him"

Sara smirks, "Girl, he wants to fuck you. Can you not see that?"

You turn urgently to her, cheeks ablaze, "That's not true"

Sara hums smugly, "Denial is a river in Egypt. He looked like he wanted to tear Jace's head off when you hugged him"

"Jace is just a friend"

"Oh good, so he's available?" Sara raises her eyebrows.

Now it's your turn to smirk, "Are you after him?"

She shrugs, "he's not bad looking. Guy like him might look harmless but I bet he's freaky between the sheets. With a massive c-"

"Sara!" Cregan interrupts, seeing your screwed up face, clearly having heard everything, "Can we have a moment alone?"

She doesn't even need a second, before she prances off in Jace's direction, giving him the big eyes. Cregan leads you to the bar by the small of your back, and you can't tell if he's oblivious to how intimate that is, or if it's intentional, but when he does it you can't help but look in Aemond's direction, who's being hounded by Baela, but clearly not listening.

Cregan smirks in Sara's direction, "Poor guy. Being in Sara's sights is never good"

You laugh, "She'll eat him alive"

"Quite literally I think" Cregan chuckles in return.

There's a pause as you lean against the bar.

"How's life with the Targs?" He asks, one large hand encircling a pint glass effortlessly.

You shrug, "Has it's trials and tribulations, but otherwise they've treated me well enough"

Cregan looks around before leaning forward, murmuring in a hushed manner, "All I would say is, be weary of the big guy"

You cock your head, "You mean Otto?"

He points his finger like you've hit the nail on the head, "Yeah, him. I heard he's a right fucking stickler"

You nod, "He's very particular" you smile, reassuringly, "I manage though"

Cregan is about to open his mouth when Aemomd steps forward, his tall stature rivaling Cregans as he makes himself known. The Northern man fakes a smile, nodding in greeting, but neither says anything.

Before you can inquire, Aemond's hand encircles your forearm, "We're leaving"

"What?" You ask wide-eyed, wondering from where this rudeness has come from. 

Aemond tugs you away, and you wave goodbye to Cregan as well as Baela and Rhaena, whose eyes you catch across the room. Sara wiggles her eyebrows.

Aemond doesn't reply, so you fight against his grip, to no avail, "Aemond let go of me. Now"

It's clear Aemond is not listening, and if he is, he doesn't show it on his face. He even stops by the lift, pressing the buttons hurriedly, but once he sees which floor it's coming from, he grumbled and drags you instead up the stairs.

"Aemond, what the fuck is wrong with you!"

"Not having that northern cunt cosying up to you" he murmurs low, dragging you up the four flights of stairs to your floor. Luckily there's nobody there to see you both, it's so late at night.

His face is stoic, lips flat in a line, seething underneath.

"Are you fucking for real? Let go of me!"

It's only when you're in the hallway, stood before the hotel room door that you manage to pull your arm free of him.

"Are you fucking deaf?" You quip angrily, "what the hell was that Aemond?" You push against his chest as hard as you can, but he's built like a fucking brick wall and doesn't move an inch. Doesn't even lose his balance a little.

He doesn't say anything for a moment.

"Do I have to repeat myself? I'm not your fucking girlfriend Aemond! Stop treating me like one"

"You'd rather me let you have the likes of Cregan fucking Stark trying to get into your-"

"So what? What right do you fucking have to boss me around like you own me?" You retort, "besides he was just being nice!"

Aemond chuckles, "Oh yeah, just being nice. He only had one thing on his mind" he smirks, his gaze raking over your dress, "dressed like that, who knows what he was thinking"

"Excuse m-"

Down the hall, a room clicks open, the shadow of it moving barely before Aemond tugs you inside the hotel room out of view. He shuts the door and locks it quickly, his fingers once again curled around your forearm.

"I swear to god, if you grab me more time-"

Aemond scoffs, releasing and facing you, dwarfing you with his form as he approaches, "Or what, princess?" 

You swallow, backing up somewhat when he takes his calculated small steps towards you. His chest level with your eyes, you see the chain poking out beneath the undone buttons, the slightest bit of skin…

"Don't call me that"

"Who can blame Cregan fucking Stark anyway? With you dressed like that" Aemond responds, invading your space even further.

Your throat goes dry, "What?.."

"The second I saw you in that flimsy little thing, all I've been able to think about, is how I'm going to take it off"

Through your fierce blush, you clench your hands, your core doing the same involuntarily, "you're delusional"

He hums a laugh, "You're cute when you're trying to be angry, princess"

You feel how short your breathing is, how your chest goes all tight. It feels like being hunted, when he looks at you like that. That mischievous glint in his good eye.

"What is your fucking deal, hm?" You retort, feeling a last rush of courage, "Does it give you some sick satisfaction making my life hell? First you hate me, then you're indifferent, then you're hating me all over again and now you're acting like th-"

His hand claps around your waist, squeezing painfully, tugging you towards him in a deep, near-desperate and dizzying kiss. Much like the first one in the dressing room, it's urgent, his lips prying yours apart to slip his tongue into your mouth, humming deeply at the contact with yours. His other hand quickly finds the back of your head, anchoring you with him and chests touching only barely.

Everything dissipates, he's a good fucking kisser annoyingly, and he sucks briefly on your lips, making the blood rush to them so that they're swollen from his attention.

Your brain, lost in the brief act of passion, kicks in finally and your hands push him away. Your lips part from each other with a wet click, your face noticeably flush. Aemond too, looks slightly flushed, but wears a smug expression.

"What the hell was that"

"You reciprocated" he answers matter-of-factly,

"In your dreams"

He hums, "So stubborn. Are you always like this?"

"Fuck you"

"In the dressing room, you were so intent to continue" he replies, stepping forward slightly from when you'd pushed him, "If we weren't due to perform, nothing would have stopped me from fucking you right on that table in your sparkly little get-up"

You can't deny how the air gets sucked out your chest when he says that. Hate and lust are head to head inside you, battling for dominance.

"You'd like that wouldn't you…"

It's the way he says the words, so low and calculated, with that lazy smirk. His lips just as kiss bruised as yours, the few strands of hair that fell from his bun, disheveled.

All of your pent up hormones from not having slept with anyone for ages, the memory of what he did in the dressing room, as well as the sight of him right here, giving you that fucking look…

Every fucking look he's given you the past few weeks.

The memory of his hand on your thigh, squeezing.

Every hand against the small of your back…

…something snaps.

"Fuck it" you whisper, advancing on him again, both hands cupping the sides of his face and kissing him fiercely again, putting all those bottled up emotions, good and bad, behind the intensity of it.

You feel him smile smugly against you, his hands rested on your hips, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress, "Fucking knew it" he murmurs between the breaks of both your hateful kisses.

One hand sliding round to the back of his head, you card your fingers into his hair, inevitably ruining whatever style he had it in, to pull him closer to you, intensifying the neediness of his lips against yours. You swear he moans at the tugging of his hair, but you don't even hear it, too concentrated on his teeth as they nip at your bottom lip, nursing the area with his tongue afterwards.

A full body shudder erupts through you, sending a gush of arousal straight between your legs. It makes you feel weightless.

As if that weren't enough, Aemond's hands drop, cupping and kneading the flesh of your ass, squeezing near-painfully. The unexpectedness of it makes you gasp into his mouth as he pulls your core that bit closer to his hips, where you can feel the evidence of his arousal hard in his dress pants.

Your hands can't help but explore him as well as he is for you, running across the planes of his well-muscled chest, feeling them strain under your touch like he's holding back. Your fingers run over his chain, dipping to undo the buttons with dizzying speed.

"Eager, are we?" He whispers cockily between kisses.

You shoot him a scathing look, punctuating your words with the rough undoing of more buttons.

"Do you ever shut up"

He doesn't reply, too entranced by the softness of your touch on his bare pale skin as it's revealed button by button. His own hands trace up your middle, over your ribs and straight past your breasts to the straps of your dress, tangling his fingers into one and them and pulling it over your shoulder. Not quite enough to expose any intimate part of you.

Fuck, he's teasing you.

His lips migrate past yours, his nose ghosting over your cheek to your neck, where his lips tease the sensitive skin with open-mouthed kisses, teeth nipping at the space where it meets your shoulder. It's rougher than anticipated, and a soft breathy moan slips out, only serving to spur him on.

His one hand on our waist pushes you back, your knees hitting the mattress sending your body against it. He follows you, cushioning the fall and looming over you, using one of his knees to edge your legs apart for him.

In the heat of it all you've managed at least to get his shirt entirely open, shifting the fabric from his shoulders, shamelessly appreciating the shape of him. Your fingers trail that little bit of hair leading beneath his belt, feeling how the muscles of his abdomen flex with the contact, hearing the whisper of a low moan in his throat.

It's only when your hand begins to massage the very obvious and, you hate to say it, impressive bulge of his erection, that Aemond lets out a shuddered quiet moan, his breath fluttering against your neck.

You smirk, "Eager, are we?" You tease, echoing his previous words.

It's like a switch flipped and Aemond rights himself slightly, one hand taking both of yours and pinning them above your head in a very sudden act of dominance. He revels in the shocked look on your face, his black shirt now forgotten on the floor.

"Keep them there. You won't like it if I have to ask twice, Princess"

His voice send a bolt of pleasure to your core, and you visibly swallow nervously, watching his hands dip to your thighs and pushing the fabric of your dress up to your hips.

You jump in your place as Aemond's hands brace your thighs roughly, parting them and bringing his lips to the sensitive skin on the inside, trailing them up slowly, teasingly, to place an open-mouthed kiss to your clothed core.

"You have no idea what you do to me" he murmurs against you, wrapping the hem of your underwear around his fingers and tugging them off your legs. The motion, as quick as he does it, leaves your lungs breathless for a moment as he descends and kisses the now bare skin on the crease where your hip meets your thigh.

"Aemon-" 

Aemond's tongue swipes through your slick folds and he groans low at the taste which sends a deep thrum of want through your core, making everything seem just too much to bear. Too much and yet too little all at the same time.

"Fuck, baby…"

You can feel your thighs shaking against his grip as he keeps them parted for him. It halts every thought in your mind, back arching off the bed as he delves deeper, his tongue parting your folds to fuck you with the wet muscle repeatedly. It feels like he's trying to discover places inside you, as deep as they may be, to make you fall apart.

The angle has your lips parted with hurried breaths, head thrown back against the bed, struggling to keep quiet with the way his nose moves side to side against your aching bundle of nerves.

"Fuck…Aemond…" 

It feels like as soon as the pressure begins to build in your belly, he comes away, his lips glistening with your slick, causing your face to heat up in embarrassment. His eyes gleam with mischief.

"What happened to that smart mouth, hm?"

Before anger even has a chance to reach you, he plunges two fingers knuckle-deep inside you, instantly curled up trying to find that sweet spot inside. Your thighs shut around his hand, effectively trapping him there, a slew of desperate moans filling the silence in the room, as well as the wet smack of his hand as he fucks you with his fingers.

" - ah, fuck, Aemond - "

He grins, "Fuck you're soaked for me…" he muses, increasing the intensity, pistoning them inside you, "...come on, baby…"

He finds that spot with infuriating accuracy, aided by the thickness and length of his fingers, stretching your pussy as he watches them disappear, covered in your arousal.

Your back arches impossibly, thighs squeezed tight. And he smirks in victory.

"There it is…"

Logic, reality, everything is just absolutely gone. Mind blank, and all you're able to think is just him. The pleasure he is giving you. His words. It's all just too much.

The coil in your belly threatens to snap at any moment, the pads of his fingers bullying your g-spot mercilessly. So much you can feel your slick soak his hand and the insides of your thighs.

And just like that.

It's gone.

Your crane your head to him, looking up as he kneels between your legs, outright moaning as he swipes his digits through his lips into his mouth. Tasting you.

Your clit throbs at the lewd action, as well as the fact he's enjoying it so much. Feeling your face flushed and heat bathing your skin.

His hands drop to his belt, "You look so fucking perfect like this" he says, the sound of the leather slipping from his dress pants sending a bolt of arousal back to the place you need him most.

"Don't look at me like that" he smirks, his fists closing around the buttons, "the first time I make you cum, it's going to be on my cock"

You would think of some kind of quip, but Aemond tugs his underwear down, his cock springing free, and his hand coming to stroke himself to full hardness. The motion has you captivated, and inadvertently makes your thighs press together.

Aemond is big. Perhaps bigger than anyone you've had before. He is slightly curved, leaning slightly to the right, and as he strokes himself, his thumb swipes whatever precum comes out his weeping pink tip all over his cockhead, sighing softly at the relief of it. Your breath is momentarily stolen once you realise how his large hand encircles it, making it clear how thick he is on top of all that.

Annoyingly, he has the prettiest cock you've ever seen.

As a last ditch attempt to keep up appearances, your eyes meet his.

"What makes you think I'd let you?" You challenge, "you've not apologised to me yet"

Quite unexpectedly, he smirks, laughing lowly.

"Oh, Princess" he whispers, one hand pulling the rucked up fabric of the dress at your waist and removing it, tearing the fabric over your head and leaving you entirely naked and exposed. The sensation of the fabric and cool air has your nipped harden to attention, and Aemond sighs appreciatively as he kneads one breast in his palm.

He leans down, his tongue darting out to tease the skin around your nipple, "I am sorry" he muses condescendingly, before closing one nipple around his lips, tongue swirling against it. You're unable to do anything but press your lips together to stifle a moan.

Aemond pays special attention, lapping at it like a man starved, humming and pleased at the reaction he gets when he grazes his teeth over it. He pulls off with a gentle pop, kissing the valley of your breasts, his cock hanging heavily against your thigh. So close, and yet still feels so far away.

He reaches away for a second to go for his wallet on the bedside table, but your hand moves quickly to capture his wrist. His piercing gaze looks down at you questioningly.

"I'm clean…" you say, face hot with embarrassment, "...and I'm on birth control"

Aemond grins wolfishly at the admission, leaning down to kiss and nip at your neck, "Someone's prepared"

You gasp when he drags the head of his cock up your folds, parting them only slightly.

"You just want it raw, don't you?"

From this action alone you can feel how wet you are, and when he taps his cockhead against your clit a few times sending sparks of pleasure up your spine, it's obvious when it smacks wetly against your skin.

"Now baby, it's just you and me. I want to hear you when I fuck you. Understood?"

You nod, dizzy from just how much he's teasing you. 

"Just fuck me" you plead, annoyance colouring your tone.

He laughs through his nose and your mouth drops open when he pushes into you, splitting you open on his thick cock, slowly working his way inside.

"I'm going to fuck that little attitude right out of you"

Fuck.

Aemond bottoms out inside you, stilling for a moment for you to adjust but also for him to catch his bearings. He breathes in shuddered bursts against your neck, his stomach flexing and fists tightened either side of your head.

"Fuck, baby, you're so tight…can feel you squeezing me…" he moans softly against your ear, pushing himself as far inside you as he can possibly go. It has your eyes fluttering shut as his length tucks against that sweet spot, filling you aggravatingly perfectly, the walls of your pussy stretching deliciously to take him.

"Shit-Aemond…" you mewl as he shallowly fucks himself into you a few times, craving friction, craving what glimpse you saw of him earlier, "...please…"

Resting on his forearms, one hand ventures to your thigh to spread you further apart as he pulls almost all the way out.

"Seeing as you asked so nicely"

All air seems to be stolen out of your lungs and replaced with warming bliss as Aemond's slams back inside, his hips immediately pressing with a loud smack against you as he thrusts ceaselessly, holding both of your thighs in his palms.

With every harsh push inside, a soft, moan-like breath slips from your lips. Gods, when was the last time someone fucked you, as in properly fucked you, like this? Probably longer than you'd like to admit. That Highgarden guy left you high and dry, and even the guys before that, they probably thought girls had one hole, so knew little about how to pleasure you.

It's clear Aemond doesn't share this trait, and your thought process is immediately zipped from your past sexual encounters to right now as Aemonds thumb begins to deftly gather your arousal on it to circle around your clit, setting every nerve alight.

"Stubborn and a brat?" He muses, applying a delicious amount of pressure to that needy bundle of nerves, "I thought I made myself very clear, Princess. I want to hear you"

He punctuates his demand with two particularly harsh thrusts, your arousal sounding almost pornographic in nature.

Whether you want to or not, your lips part more to let your sounds of pleasure fill the room, the ceaseless sounds of your fucking alongside it. Your hands fist the bedsheets and Aemond hums appreciatively watching your breasts and body move with every motion.

He rewards you by increasing the speed of his motions, practically fucking you into the mattress. It's here that is the first time you see Aemond let his face show what he's feeling. That smug, cocksure smirk he has worn since arriving back at the hotel room drops, and his jaw slackens, his eye hooded to look down at you with reverence.

"Fuck-baby, I can feel you, you're going to cum for me aren't you-" he moans, his hips never letting up their pace, "shit-feels so good. Been dreaming of this for fucking weeks"

"Aemond-" you moan softly, turning your head, closing your eyes, feeling all exposed to him when he looks at you like that. The pressure in your gut is absolutely set to explode, and you feel that coil tighten impossibly.

Your throat tightens as Aemond leans down, his hips hitting the flesh of your thighs as he continues to piston his cock inside you, the chain around his neck dangling arousingly above you. 

You feel him grab your face, turning you to face him, your eyes slightly hooded with pleasure but looking right at him. It's so intimate, it makes your skin feel like it's on fire. 

His expression is serious.

"I want you to look at me when I make you cum"

Your hand joins his wrist, guiding him to your neck, and his jaw slackens again when he realises what you want. His fingers wrap around your neck, palm against your windpipe, and he just holds you there, feeling your pulse fluttering against his touch.

All you're able to utter before falling off the edge of your pleasure is, "fuck-"

Blinding white pleasure courses through your veins, your heart hammering in your chest, feeling every single thing Aemond is doing but ten times more sensitive. Being edged twice before certainly didn't help. Every thrust inside, brushing against your sweet spot, the way his thumb continues to press circles against your bud, has your orgasm extended in a long drawn-out shattered moan.

Aemond buries his head into your neck, his arms enveloped around you, letting your bud finally have a reprieve. Your thighs begin to shake as Aemond fucks you through it, overstimulation rocking through your entire body with the incessant bullying of his length against your sweet spot.

"It's alright, baby, I've got you" he whispers, his own tone strained. You can't help but sigh fondly at his words.

"Fuck-where-"

"Inside me…please"

Aemond feels you tighten impossibly around him one last time before he stills, hot ropes of his cum painting your walls and leaving an unmistakable warmth at the deepest parts of your core. Aemond says nothing, but moans helplessly against your neck and you feel his all-body shudder through your hold on his shoulders.

He fucks you shallowly, aching for the last moments of friction just as your orgasm subsides, replaced with a manageable dull thrum, practically able to fell your own heartbeat, and his with his presence inside you. The drag of his cock through your sensitive walls has breathless pants spilling from your mouth.

The silence stretches as Aemond stills, his cock softening within you. 

You don't have time to consider what at all he's thinking, as he presses a chaste kiss to your jaw, significantly softer than anything you've both done since arriving back to the hotel room. It shocks you, the intimacy of it.

What had you expected him to do? Get up, pull on his clothes and leave?

Maybe.

You had no expectations with Aemond. So for him to do this, had your chest constrain almost painfully. 

What did this mean?

Did he just want a quick fuck?

Had he done this with Floris?

What did it mean for your partnership?

You're almost disappointed in yourself that these are the first thoughts on your mind. 

And yet despite the pleasure running hot through your veins even still, as Aemond props himself up to look down at you, his chest heaving with hurried breaths, there's something on his face, in his expression, that you just cannot read.

There's an uncertainty in not being able to read him.

And underneath that hum of pleasure, through your rapid heartbeat, there lies something that hurtles you deep away from it all.

Doubt.

Taglist 1 (Bold means I could not tag!)

General Taglist: @blairfox04 | @hb8301 | @jamespotterismydaddy | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires | @risefallrise | @theoneeyedprince | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya | @urmomsgirlfriend1 | @valeskafics 

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep ​ | @boofy1998 | @cathy1514 | @dahlias-and-marigolds | @fan-goddess | @gaeela-6

[scaredycatwrites]

Quiet Comfort

Pairing: Morgie le fay x gn reader

Prompt: you were a victim of one of Uliana's outbursts and Morgie finds you in a quiet part of the courtyard and tries his best to comfort you. 

Warnings: accidental hitting, crying 

a/n: I love Uliana's character honestly so much but i just felt this was a cute idea, this is the first time i’ve posted a one shot so apologies if its badly written.

Word count: 1,851 words

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Being a VK was fun most of the time, you and your friends would have fun pulling pranks, terrorising the other kids and causing mischief in general but of course it came with its issues. Uliana was a great friend, but she was prone to outbursts of frustration and anger, especially if someone bested her at something, and today happened to be one of those days where someone decided to test Uliana's patience when she was talking down to them. Now usually you and the rest of the VK's could calm her down after a while making her feel better by reminding her that she can get them back next time but she was not in the mood for that today.

“Uli, don't let it get to you, we can get them ten times worse next time.” You spoke attempting to comfort the sea witch. But she wasn't in the mood letting a growl leave her. “Not now Y/n I don't wanna hear your attempts at helping!” Morgie and the others watched as you attempted to calm her down knowing it was probably not the best idea. You looked at her before trying once more. “But Uli, it's not the end of the world, we can get that spoiled princess back I know we can!” The others knew the look Uliana wore well, she was frustrated and at her breaking point. Uliana then snapped. “Oh my god Y/n do you ever know when to stop talking!? Just shut up! I don't need to hear your pathetic attempt at comfort! I don't want your pity!” The sea witch exclaimed her tentacles flinging out in frustration to hit at anything she could around her, unintentionally smacking you as she did so. 

Most of the group backed up to let Uliana take her frustrations out on the surrounding area however Morgie was focused on the way you stood still for a moment as you put a hand on your face where the skin was turning a purplish red on the surrounding area of where Uliana's tentacle had caught your cheek. He could see the way your eyes threatened to spill tears and in a matter of seconds you seemed to excuse yourself mumbling an apology before doing a speed walk turned jog away from your friends. 

You made your way to one of the quieter courtyard areas of Merlin Academy and sat on one of the corner benches, soft sniffles turned to silent sobs, occasional hiccups leaving you while you let out your emotions. The truth was you'd been dealing with some other stuff and this was the last straw to set off your tears you'd been holding in for a few days. It was definitely needed but inconvenient that it happened during school hours, you'd be mortified if anyone saw you crying like this, it made you feel weak and vulnerable, something you were taught by your parents that villains should never be.

Your worst nightmare began as you heard the softest little. “Hey..” come from the entrance to the courtyard, you knew those steps and that voice anywhere. Morgie. You turned your head away trying to stop the little sobs and hiccups from leaving you, taking a shaky breath you stuttered out a broken. “G-go away M-morgie.. ‘m fine..” Morgie slowly made his way closer to the bench you had sat on and sat on the other side keeping distance between you for a moment. “You don't have to be fine, it wasn't exactly a nice situation to be in, I saw how she caught your face, that must've hurt, trust me I know she's caught me a bunch before.” He half joked trying to lighten your solemn mood. You appreciated the boy's words but still felt uncomfortable appearing so vulnerable. “Morgs I'm fine.. I'll put some ice on it or whatever.” You mumbled trying to hide the shaky tone but unfortunately for you Morgie could hear the shakiness. 

Morgie then shuffled a little closer to you on the bench placing a hand on your arm hesitantly which made you jump but you didn't move his hand away. “Y/n, you don't have to hide your emotions from me, I'm not gonna make fun of you, we're friends, I'm here for you.” You felt your heart ache slightly, it was difficult for you to be openly emotional due to your villainous upbringing and Morgie knew that pretty well having grown up in similar conditions yet he seemed so soft and gentle and kind with you all the time. “Morgie, why'd you come looking for me.. You know I would've been fine on my own.” You finally glanced at the boy next to you, your face tear stained and puffy from your crying, yet that didn’t seem to phase him all too much. Morgie slowly reached a hand up, using his thumb to wipe away any tears left, the gentle motion caused your cheeks to flush a faint shade of pink although it partially blended with the red tone of your skin from the crying which you were thankful for. “I know you say you would be ok on your own but i wanted to come and check in anyway, you mean a lot to me and i want you to be ok..” Morgie attempted to hide the faint blush on his cheeks as he confessed this to you.

Morgie let out a small hum, taking a breath as he spoke in a much softer tone than his usual excitable one. “You know, i thought you were very brave to try and help Uliana, you’re always positive about things which are hard to find in a villain, you’re kind Y/n, it’s hard to find that, even in those royal snobs.” His words made the corners of your mouth turn upwards ever so slightly producing a small smile. “Morgie.. You’re so sweet, I don’t understand why you are though, Uliana’s probably gonna kick me to the curb for trying too hard to be positive.” This caused Morgie to frown. “Not on my watch, besides you did nothing to warrant being kicked out of the group. Uliana is just having one of those days, it’s not your fault at all. I’m sure if we talk to her later she’ll probably be fine with you,she just needs to cool off.” You gently nodded and took a breath realising how silly you probably sounded worrying about being kicked out of your friend group. 

You hadn’t even realised that Morgies hand was still resting on your cheek until you felt yourself leaning into the touch. He seemed to continue the gentle rubbing motion with his thumb, no longer wiping away tears but just comforting you with the gentle touch. You let out a comforted hum as he stroked your cheek, the touch was so soothing, it felt intimate in a way but you didn’t want to assume anything about the way Morgie was being. The moment of gentle touch and quiet lasted for what felt like an eternity before Morgie spoke up. “Hey Y/n, i care about you, so much.” You let out a small laugh. “Is that so? I didn’t think that villains were supposed to care about anything.” Morgie smiled a little as he rolled his eyes. “Well if that's the case then maybe i’m not a total villain because i seriously care about you Y/n, like a lot.” You looked at Morgie not expecting him to be genuine but there was nothing but genuine adoration in his eyes. “Oh.. oh Morgie that’s so sweet of you.. I care about you too.. And I seriously appreciate how kind you’ve been to me.” 

Morgie gave a gentle nod as he felt his cheeks flush at your minor confession. “Well I'm glad we’re on the same page about caring for one another.” he half joked, causing you to snicker and nod. “Me too Morgs me too.. I should probably get to my dorm before I get seen by a bunch of snobby princesses, doubt we’d live down me being caught crying with my face in your hands.” This caused Morgie to laugh a little as he hesitated before letting go of your face and standing up. You also moved to stand up, missing the feeling of Morgie’s gentle touch on your cheeks. Morgie then gestured to you to begin walking which earnt an eyebrow raise from you. “Morgie le fay, are you offering to walk me to my dorm?” you teased playfully causing his face to flush pink and he begged you didn’t see, but you of course did. “Well.. um.. Yeah I just thought it would be the polite thing to do.” you let a giggle slip out as he explained himself. “And since when did you care about being polite?” Morgie then shrugged and smiled, beginning to walk off. “Hey if you don’t want me to, I can just let you go alone.” You shook your head quickly before doing a small jog to catch up to him. “I never said I didn't want you to.” This caused him to chuckle as you walked side by side in a comfortable silence for a few minutes towards the girls' dorms. “Thank you by the way.. For uh.. Coming to check on me, you didn’t have to do that.” you spoke up as you approached your room, unlocking your door, standing in the doorway for a moment. Morgie gave a small smile as he spoke in that soft tone once again. “Anytime Y/n, seriously if you ever need anything don’t hesitate to ask me.” you nodded gently leaning your head on the doorframe giving Morgie a lopsided smile. “The same goes for you Morgs, you can always come to me if you need anything, but if you tell the others about me crying don’t forget i know where your dorm is.” You half joked. Morgie shook his head. “I would never, I swear, VK’s honour.” He gave a silly salute making himself laugh and you giggle. “I’ll see you tomorrow Morgie, get to your dorm safe.” Morgie then took your hand in his for a moment pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles causing your face to flush a bright pink. He bowed teasingly, chuckling. “I bid you goodnight dearest Y/n, sleep well and no more tears tonight or I shall have to return and you will soon tire of me doing this voice.” You laughed quietly at Morgies silly attempt at a princely voice shaking your head and rolling your eyes. “Yes I will, your unroyal evilness.” you teased making him laugh in response before moving backwards into your room giving a gentle wave. “Goodnight Morgie, you dork, you should go before curfew.” “Ah of course, goodnight y/n, don’t miss me too much!” he chimed before you watched him head off closing the door giggling to yourself and shaking your head, a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest as you thought about everything that happened and found yourself anticipating what might happen when you see Morgie again tomorrow. 

------------------------

An: I hope you enjoy this, honestly I just wanted to write some Morgie stuff because the world could use more Morgie. This is my first time posting my writing so I'm a bit anxious about it.

[anxious-lee]

Ask || Hazbin Tickle Fic ||

A/N: what can I say? they inspire me. you know what else inspires me? the agonizing lack of content there is for them 💀

Ship: Huskerdust

No beta, we die for our craft

Word count: 1,720

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One wouldn't typically think of obnoxious behavior as out of character for Angel Dust, but this was a tad excessive. In a way that spells out exactly what he wants, if you know what to look for.

Angel had a very particular set of needs, some being more overt than others, but one facet of his desire was not known to many. Ironically, his incessant jabber of licking holes and getting punished weren't nearly as vulnerable as this information was. He never told his nightly flings, he never told Valentino, and he rarely became close enough to anyone to be able to share.

Angel Dust, the world-renowned porn star, loved to be tickled.

Now, some might say this could very easily fit into his menagerie of BDSM kinks. But that's what was so humiliating. It wasn't a kink. It wasn't sexy. It was romantic. Even downright fond.

His need would be fulfilled from time to time as partners or clients sought playfulness, but he wouldn't bring up his appreciation of it. Merely went along with and pretended to hate it. How far that was from the truth.

The obvious downside to this, of course, is that no one is available to satisfy your lee moods. Like today, for example.

The minute Angel woke up, he knew today was going to be one of those days.

The thoughts were driving him mad. He needed someone to hold him and touch him and take away his control in a way that had nothing to do with pain or power. It was about trust and love and sharing and fucking christ, does he sound like a hippie.

The thought of telling Husk did cross his mind, seeing as how they were now a month into their relationship, but he quickly banished it to where all the other scary thoughts go. Surely, he would laugh at him or look at him with disgust.

He couldn't risk it this time.

Not with Husk.

Not with him.

Fortunately, there was an option B. You see, he already loved to get on people's nerves, and that happened to be the most successful way to get tickled. As retribution.

The hotel guests, of course, didn't pick up on Angel's different behavior. They merely gave him a smirk or an eye-roll, but nothing more. Except, of course, Husk.

----

Angel sauntered over to the bar counter where his pussycat was busy at work polishing bottles.

"Mornin', Whiskers. Did ya dream of me?" Angel said, batting his eyelashes.

Husk chuckled. "Yeah, I did. It was the noisiest dream of my afterlife."

Angel gasped in mock offense and pouted. "I thought you liked our little chats!"

"I do when I'm not working. Just sit tight until I'm on my break, we can go cuddle as much as you want then, okay?"

"But that's sooo long from now!"

Returning to his bottles, Husk half-turned away from Angel, who was growing antsy.

He waited a couple of moments, then very swiftly poked his bartender in the arm.

"Baby, I can't talk right now, I'm busy."

Another poke.

"Fuck, can't you wait 5 minutes?" Husk sighed with a hint of annoyance.

It seemed to be working. One more push should send him over the edge.

Angel plucked the rag out of Husk's paw and held it out of his reach.

Husk finally turned to face his boyfriend.

Was this it? Was he gonna snap and tickle him senseless for pestering him?

The cat leaned forward, grabbed the rag, and went back to his task after giving Angel a tired glare.

It was obvious to the spider that his lover wouldn't bite. Defeated, he left the bar to find something else to distract himself with.

----

It was a few hours later when Angel found himself cuddled up next to Husk watching a movie. It was some crime boss flick, something-or-other. To be perfectly honest, he wasn't paying much attention to it. The incessant thoughts of laughter and smiles spun 'round his head, keeping his focus off of the gunfight happening on-screen.

On impulse, Angel started playing with Husk's ears, plucking and pulling and flicking in any way he could to get a rise out of him.

"What the- stop! I'm trying to watch." The cat said.

"I ain't doing nothing~"

Next, Angel gave a teensy little push to Husk's tophat, just enough to put it off-center.

"If you're that bored, why'd you pick this movie?" Was the reply.

"Who said I was bored? I'm very entertained," Angel said.

And finally, he twirled his finger around the tail beside him like a spaghetti noodle and gave it a tug.

That seemed to do the trick. Husk's face whipped to meet Angel's.

"What is going on with you? You've been pressing my buttons all day. What's the matter? You feeling friskier than normal or somethin'?" Husk was confused, and annoyed certainly, but more than anything, curious. This wasn't typical Angel Dust behavior. This was a cry for help. In regards to what, he had no idea.

Angel certainly wasn't giving him any help. "I don't know what you're talking about," he quipped with a smile tugging at his lips.

Husk watched him for a moment, then seemingly gave up and returned to cuddling in front of the movie.

It only frustrated Angel more. What was with this guy?! It didn't normally take THIS much effort to instigate a good tickle fight! And the cuddling made everything worse. Like waving a bone in front of a dog. He was given just enough touch to drive him crazy but not enough to satisfy his hunger.

----

Several days had gone by, and Angel's lee mood persisted, and Husk still wasn't taking the bait. The spider began to wonder if he would ever get tickled again at this rate.

One night, the two sinners were sitting in bed together, being on their phones or reading. It was quiet nights in with each other like these that they treasured more than anything.

Angel had lost almost all hope of actually getting tickled. No matter what he tried to get Husk's goat, nothing worked. But that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

Husk was so enraptured by the book in front of him that he didn't notice the mischievous look creeping onto his boyfriend's face.

Angel snatched the book out from Husk's nose and dangled it in front of him. "Why would you want to look at some ol' book when you could be looking at meee~?"

Husk gave the usual huff and eye-roll.

Angel waited for a moment, then set the book aside in order to sprawl across Husk's lap with his hands supporting his head.

"What's the matter, Whiskers?" He emphasized the provoking nickname. "Am I botherin' ya?"

Angel pursed his lips and gave the kitty's nose a boop.

For a moment, it was silent as Husk looked down at his lover in what looked to be...

An epiphany.

Then came the chuckle.

"You know, if you wanted it so bad, you coulda just asked," Husk sultry said.

What?

What did that-

Angel didn't have time to finish the thought before Husk's claws were dancing nimbly on his sides. He squealed in startlement, and the giggles came flowing out. As much as his body wanted to worm and wriggle away from the touch, his heart was exactly where it wanted to be. Where he needed to be. But what Husk had said-

"Whahat does thahahat mehehean?!" The spider queried.

"Don't act like you haven't been trying to provoke me into ticklin' you this whole time. Honestly, it all seems kinda obvious now," Husk laughed, "Can't believe I didn't piece it together sooner."

Wait, he knew?!

Abort, abort, abort!

"I dohont know whahahat you're tahahalking abohohout!"

"Relax, I ain't judging," Husk assured warmly, "I've heard of far stranger things than a pesky little brat who wants to relinquish control every now and then. 'Sides, I can't say it's not adorable." His voice took on a more teasing tone at that last statement.

And Angel noticed it.

His face began burning hellfire red as the claws at his sides still scribbled furiously, and his giggles now elevated to laughter.

"Ihihit's NOHOHOT!" Angel cried indignantly.

"Uh huh. And what do you call this?" Husk darted his hands up to the spider's neck and scritched and scratched into every nook and cranny he could reach.

Glass could shatter at the pitch Angel shrieked. His chortles returned to snickers and giggles as he tried to invert his head into his body like a turtle. What's more, he even began to 'tee-hee'. Like a coquettish little school girl. How humiliating.

"Seems pretty cute to me~," Husk cooed with a saccharine smile.

Angel couldn't tell if he loved it or hated it.

"I've never seen this smile on you before! Maybe I should tickle you all the time."

Definitely loved it.

Husk ran his claws down from his neck to his shoulders all the way down to his underarms.

The spider's arms snapped with the strength of a bear trap. He screeched with all his might and began to cackle. This was the most pleasant hell he's ever been in! His face-splitting grin wasn't just from all the laughing. He hoped Husk knew that.

The cat in question jumped at the loud noise. "Woah! Didn't realize this was a bad spot. You okay down there?" His fingers slowing for a second.

Angel could not nod fast enough.

Husk could feel his icy heart melting. Christ, the things this boy did to him. He'd keep this up all night if it kept Angel happy and free and forgetful of his troubles.

"Alright, just let me know when you've had enough," and with that, Husk tickled his pits harder than he did before, "But next time, just ask for this instead of purposely getting on my nerves. I'd rather just give you the love without the headache, okay baby?"

And he did.

It wasn't easy for Angel, but part of this new dynamic was learning to trust each other, hoping that the other would catch them when they fell. Every moment they spent together proved that they would.

But for now, all that was left was Angel's blissful laughter, Husk's light-hearted teases, and five nosy tennants listening in from beyond the door.

-------

The more tickle scenes I write, the harder it is to think of new things to say lol 😅

Thank you all so much for the kind feedback, you guys are why I write ❤️

[manicpixiedreamedwins]

This is a Crystal Palace appreciation post because I cannot believe the weird amount of stuff I’ve seen said about her in the past few days.

Dear Crystal: I love you. Even when you did not have your memories, you somehow managed to stay put together. I would have been walking around in pajama pants and a T-Shirt everywhere. You, on the other hand, knew that you were someone. You just needed to remember who. Look at this fit. I wish I was that stylish on my worst days.

Even when you and Edwin were bickering, you managed to be kind. You told him he mattered. He does matter. I think you meant it. This moment proves you can have sharp edges and a kind heart at the same time. Never lose that. Those edges are what will keep your heart safe.

You actually know what you want, and you’re not afraid to say it. You know you just got out of a long term, destructive relationship and you weren’t looking for another one right away. You state it multiple times. You’re looking for a cute distraction, or maybe an easy fling. You want something safe and easy. You state clearly when things get too overwhelming and you need to step back. Maybe this is why people think you’re “mean”. I won’t. I promise you I don’t. This is a gift, to be able to know yourself and to use your voice. Never lose that, either, no matter how much the world tells you to be quieter. Silence is the first step towards death.

It is so noble that you try and protect others. Perhaps there are moments where you have done this in ways that are flawed (I mean, making a guy walk in front of traffic was very extreme, but in your mind you were avenging the girls he harmed I guess?). But I am sure you thought your intentions were good. And each time you stepped up to help, you got a little better at taking on the role of the protector. You did. It’s been in you all along, you just needed to refine it (and I am so here for each attempt).

I love you Crystal Palace Surname-Von Hoverkraft. The brilliant psychic you are.

[minoudrien]

thinking about loveybug’s urge to sacrifice and chat noir’s abandonment issues… so i wrote this little loveynoir oneshot to convey the Dynamic. set after chat has started the trust loveybug but before they’ve really started to shamelessly flirt:

“Ha, I’ve got you right where I want you, Chat Noir!” The akumatized villain, an angry young woman who just got fired and was now making it Paris’ problem, smirks from her vantage point and sends a missile towards the hero.

Loveybug, who had been trying to stay under the radar after the last missile sent her way by pretending she’d been hit, leaps into action from her hiding spot.

“Kitty, watch out!” She yells, alerting him of her presence just as she deflects the missile with her yoyo and starts raging toward the villain. Loveybug glances back to make sure Chat’s okay, and in that moment another missile comes flying toward her. He dives in front of her to hit it away, using his stick like a baseball bat and hitting the villain with it head on.

“Wow, nice hit,” she gushes. “I’d say that was a home run, wouldn’t you?” She leans into him.

“Loveybug, this is serious! You need to be looking out for yourself too, not just me. As much as I appreciate it…” Chat rubs the back of his neck, blushing a little.

“Well, somebody’s got to!” She giggles, leaving out the ‘since you have no regard for your OWN safety’ she would’ve added as Ladybug.

“I-“ Chat wants to be mad, wants to give her a piece of his mind for making him worry more on top of already worrying about where the real Ladybug was. But she’s looking up at him so earnestly and her big doe eyes are piercing through every wall he tries to put up. He sighs. “Just… be more careful for me, okay?”

“I’ll try anything for you, kittycat.” Loveybug grins and hops away from a piece of rubble that comes flying at her.

The villain lets out a vicious scream, clearly mad about getting hit by her own beam. Chat Noir puts a hand around Loveybug’s waist and pulls her in, taking off with her to find a new place to hide and make a plan. The villain is hot on their heels, however, and the second they get to the ground she is sending another missile right at Chat, whose head is turned in the opposite direction. Loveybug, without thinking, shoves him to the ground and dives forward, right toward the missile heading for them.

The world turns to slow motion as Chat watches her trajectory with wide eyes.

“What did I just say? I won’t lose you too!” Chat Noir shouts, using his stick to fling himself forward and tackle Loveybug in midair. They tumble to the ground together, Chat trying to use his own body to protect her fall.

Loveybug gapes up at him for a moment, still in his protective grasp. The look on his face is downright tortured, and she furrows her brows.

“Sorry, kittycat, but I was only trying to keep you safe!”

“That’s my job.” Chat Noir says firmly. Loveybug wants to argue, wants to apprehend him for having such a low view of his purpose in the fight, but his intense, worried stare is making her melt. Maybe she did understand after all why he was so quick to sacrifice himself for Ladybug- the feeling of getting to come back. The relief in his eyes was enough for her.

“You’ll never lose me, Chat Noir,” says Loveybug, putting a gentle hand on his face. He leans into her touch, never able to resist that smile, but then sighs and pulls himself off her.

“Yeah. That’s what Ladybug said too.”

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Being Team Japan’s Manager

Visit to the Bookstore

Team Japan x GN! Manager

Warnings: none, absolute fluff

AN: I saw this on tik tok and now I’m dreaming of someone giving me a shopping spree at a book store! So who better to do it than our favorite volleyball idiots!

These boys adored you so much YN

Like they can’t even explain in words how much they love and respect you

You do everything for them and you deserve the world ♥️

And with the approaching holiday coming up, the boys wanted to give you something special

But the problem is they literally have no clue what to get you

You have a lot of what you need and they aren’t confident in their abilities to pick out makeup, clothing, skincare, fragrances, etc

They know you love to read, often times reading on breaks, bus and train rides, at night

Heck you’ve even walked into practice with a book in your hand

It’s actually Komori who suggests the idea

He first brings it up to Ushijima, Aran and Iwaizumi

Arguably the most put together of Team Japan

He shows them the tik tok of someone giving their partner a “shopping spree” in a bookstore

“Essentially Yn would have 5 minutes to browse and the 90 seconds to pick out the books they want. The only rule, besides the time limit, is that one of us would have to be able to hold them,” he explains as the men all nodd

“That’s a great idea! Then we can knock YN’s gift out in one go!” Aran says

“Plus then we maybe won’t have to hear about YN’s ever changing ‘to buy’ list,” Iwaizumi groans

That’s a pipe dream Iwa but hey, dream big 🥰

So on Saturday before practice, you guys all take a trip on the teams bus

Honestly, at this point, you just assume you’re going to some training faculty

So you decide to catch up on some reading 💅

It’s only when you pull up outside your favorite bookstore that you turn to look at the guys

Who are coincidentally all staring at you

You 👉🏻👁️👄👁️

Them 👉🏻 : D

“Umm guys what are we doing here?” You ask as the boys all begin to file off

“Come on Yn, we’ll explain inside!” Suna says, grabbing your hand and dragging you inside

Once inside, you gather around Aran and Iwaizumi

“Ok Yn, we are here because this is your gift for the upcoming holiday!” Aran says

You 👉🏻😐😳 gift?!?

“I saw on tik tok how people are getting 90 second shopping sprees in their favorite book stores and well, since you love to read so much, I thought this would be a great idea!” Komori says

“You guys- a shopping spree? In a bookstore?” You stutter out, shocked

“Yep! You do so much for us and we know you love reading so we figured this would be a great gift!”

You 👉🏻😐🥹

“YOU GUYS!” You blubber, flinging yourself onto Komori as he stands there

Please all the other idiots are so jealous rn

“Hey HEY, what about me!” Bokuto shouts

“And me!” Hinata follows

“Guys shut up we are in a bookstore!” Iwaizumi whisper shouts

“Ok ok, is there rules?” You ask, removing your jacket and beginning to stretch

Please you’ve probably prepared your entire life for this moment 😂

“Umm well, you have 5 minutes to browse first-”

You put your hand up, “appreciate it but do not need it I was in here yesterday.”

The guys 👉🏻😐

“Ok well then you have 90 seconds to get the books you want, the only rule is that one of us has to be able to hold them,” Yaku says as you nodd

“Ok I have two questions,” you say as you begin to stretch your arms out

“Proceed,” Sakusa says

“First is can I pick which one of you gets to hold the books?” You ask

The guys all look at each other, and shrug

“Sure,” Iwa says

“Ok I pick Ushijima,” you say, nonchalantly

Everyone else 👉🏻😐😱 what the heck YN?!?

Ushijima 👉🏻😏💅

“What? Toshi is the hardest hitter on the team!” You say, justifying your choice

“YN for real? I’m way stronger!” Hoshiumi argues

“No way! My liners blow through any blocks!” Bokuto yells

Iwa and Aran 👉🏻 really YN 🙄

“Ok moving on, what’s the next question?” Komori asks

“You guys have to stay here! The only person allowed to come with is Suna,” you add

“What why?” Kageyama asks

“Because you guys are annoying and would distract me! Actually the only place you are allowed to be is in the kids section,” you say

The guys 👉🏻 offended 😱

“Are you saying we are children Yn?” Atsumu asks

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” you say pointing to Hinata and Bokuto who are now playing with the train set in the kids area

Aran and Iwa 👉🏻😐 point taken

“Ok enough, YN are you ready?” Suna says, pulling up his phone to time you

“I was born ready,” you say, getting in a starting position

“Dang Yn is taking this more serious that our practices,” Hakuba whispers to Ushijima

“And go!” Suna says as you take off, beginning to grab all the books on your “to be read” list

“30 seconds down YN,” Suna says as you cross over from Romance to Fantasy

We are scouring the entire sales floor Yn, no book shall be left behind 👏🏻

“Wow Yn is really going for it,” Aran says watching you load up

“1 minutes Yn, 30 seconds left,” Suna says as you cross into your final section

At this point you have 15 books in your hands and you are still going strong

Carrying the emotional weight of team japan has really made you strong emotionally as well as physically 😂

Having to haul Bokuto off the gym floor and literally push Hinata, Kageyama and Atsumu off the court has only helped prepare you for this day

“And time!” Suna says as you round the corner, books stacked over your head at this point

The team 👉🏻 strangely impressed 😳

“Ok Toshi,” you say, setting the books down as Ushijima approaches

He picks the books up, struggling a bit with the weight

“These are pretty heavy YN even for me,” he says as you smile

“To achieve it you gotta believe it Toshi,” you say as you pick the books up and head to the register to check out

After checking out the guys all help carry your books to the bus

“That was singly handedly the most expensive 5 minutes of my life,” Yaku says to Aran

“Yeah but look how happy Yn is, I think it was worth it,” he smiles

Totally worth it 🥰

[rebelwrites]

Six: What’s The Worst That Could Happen?

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till The Wheels Fall Off Masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

An awkward silence fell over the two of us, any confidence I found had now dissolved leaving me feeling like a nervous wreck. This was only meant to be some harmless flirting, not the guy I had been crushing on for years basically asking me out on a date.

“Well, what about now?” Charles said, finally breaking the silence. Letting out a shaky breath I looked up at him to realize he wasn’t joking.

Come on Nova think!

“What about your friend?” I asked, trying to buy myself a little bit more time, “you just gonna leave him?”

“He will be fine,” Charles laughed, fiddling with the label on the beer bottle, “he’s more than likely going to have an early night, he is still pretty tired from traveling.”

I needed to come up with an excuse but my brain was drawing blank. I had been put on the spot, which was something I hated, it always made my stomach churn. “Squirt,” Jax’s voice called out from the other end of the bar, “thought I’d told you to go home and get some sleep?” he scolded, folding his arms across his chest with a cocked brow.

“Yes dad!” I laughed, rolling my eyes at him. Turning my attention to Charles I weakly smiled at him. I felt my already tired body slightly sagging in relief, “sorry, I’ve gotta go, Doctor Teller’s orders and all that shit.”

“See you around, Sunshine,” Charles smiled softly, lifting his beer bottle up at me.

Flashing him a smile in return, I swiftly slid off the bar stool, weaving my way through the bar. The moment I was through the staff only door I felt a hand land on my shoulder.

“Come here,” Jax hummed, pulling me into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, “did I hear Leclerc just asked you out on a date?”

“Yeah, you did,” I sighed, looking up at my older brother, “I kinda freaked out, told him I wouldn’t have time.”

“I hear what you are saying, Nova, but you need to put your happiness first for once,” Jax whispered, refusing to pull away from the hug, “you haven’t been truly happy for a while now have you?”

“Of course I’ve been happy,” I lied. The truth was I hated being alone, I wanted someone who loved me for who I was, someone I could go on cute dates with but also someone who loved my family as much as I did. Everyone I had ever dated turned out to be complete assholes, so for the past 3 years I refused to get involved with anyone. My heart was calling out but I just didn’t know if I could deal with more heartbreak so I shut myself off from the world keeping my focus on my family.

“Nova, you know you can’t lie to me. You have lost that sparkle in your eyes but I saw it when you were flirting with Charles,” he smiled, finally stepping back releasing me from the hug. “If he makes you happy then what's the worst that could happen?”

“Are you really asking me that?” I scoffed, rolling my eyes at him, “he’s only in town for the next four weeks, ain’t like he’s looking for something serious. He’s probably just wanting a townie to get some action. So what’s the use, he’s gonna leave and I’m gonna be heartbroken,” pausing when I realized that he was being a hypocrite right now, “hold up a minute. When was the last time you dated someone?”

“Just have a summer fling with the boy, it is blatantly obvious that he feels something for you, sis. You’re young, go have some fun, get laid, just live your life,” Jax smiled softly, placing a hand on my arm, “you might never get this opportunity again.”

“Still didn’t answer my question,” I hummed, nudging him with my elbow.

“I have a child who is my number one priority so things are a bit different for me,” he shrugged, I knew he was right, he didn’t just have to think about himself now. Elenor was always going to be his number one, nothing would ever change that. “Come on, I will drive you home.”

“I’m perfectly fine to drive,” I protested, but at that moment my body decided to betray me as a large yawn escaped my body.

“Course you are,” Jax laughed, swatting my arm away from my jacket pocket, swiping the keys for himself, “I won’t be able to focus if I don’t drive you home myself.”

“And what about the bar?” I asked, raising my brow, “you know damn well you can’t just abandon ship.”

“Chucky said he will cover me,” Jax smirked, wiggling the keys in front of me, “plus I will only be gone for like fifteen minutes, so get your ass moving.”

“Fine, you can drive,” I huffed, knowing that this wasn’t going to be a fight I was going to win.

The obnoxious blaring sound of the alarm echoed around the room causing me to groan into my cloud-like pillow. I didn’t want to leave my bed, I wanted to stay in this safe comfortable cocoon that I had created. When I arrived home last night I dragged myself straight to bed, face planting the mattress not bothering to even change as I passed out. Jax was right, I needed a good night's sleep and for the first time in the last six months that's what I got but I still hadn’t woken up feeling refreshed, in fact I felt worse.

One good night's sleep wasn’t going to fix everything, it wasn’t a magic cure.

Running my hands over my face I took a deep breath before finally kicking the duvet back, moving my body so I was now sitting on the edge of the bed. Reaching for my phone I pulled the charger out letting it drop to the floor as I silenced the alarm.

Another day, another 5am wake up.

At least Nero would be joining me at the cafe to go through everything, learning how I liked things done. My mind was constantly replaying the events of last night, it was like I enjoyed tormenting myself. I just hoped I would at least have a couple of days before I bumped into Charles again but my gut feeling was telling me that wouldn’t be the case.

Finally, I pushed myself off the bed, quickly shooting Nero a text letting him know I was awake. The time I spent at home went by in a blur, like it did every morning and once again I was fumbling with the stupid lock on the cafe door. It was something I kept meaning to get fixed but it kept slipping down the list of things I needed to get done.

Once I had finally entered the building I winced at the sound of the alarm screeching through the room. I hated this thing, I knew we needed the security but I felt like you needed a degree to shut the bloody thing off.

“Jax really went all out on the security, eh?” Nero chuckled, appearing behind me.

“Something like that,” I scoffed, sighing in relief once I had managed to deactivate it. “I think it’s overkill but you know Jax, there's no changing his mind once he has decided something.”

“Come on then, mamacita, let's get this show on the road,” Nero grinned, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as he guided me to the back room. It was such a good feeling to have him here, he was a life saver right now, he was taking a massive weight off my shoulders, relieving some of the pressure life was throwing at me.

The sound of someone knocking on the main door caused me to look up at Nero from across the room, “What time is it?” I asked, turning back to putting up the flyers for the fundraiser on the notice board.

“Twenty five past six,” he hummed, “want me to let them in?”

“Why not, it’s only five minutes before we open,” I shrugged.

I kept my back towards the door, I needed to get everything up on the notice board ready for the new week. The moment I heard his voice I panicked dropping the pot of push pins all over the floor, the sound of them scattering across the laminate caused Nero to rush over.

“You okay, mama?” he asked, placing his hands over my shaking ones, “Is that him?” My eyes were like saucers at Nero’s words, how the hell did he know? “Jax rang me last night and brought me up to speed,” he smirked, spinning me around pushing me towards the counter to where Charles was, “stop overthinking things, listen to your heart, chicka, you never know he might be the one.” he whispered in my ear.

“You live in cuckoo land,” I scoffed.

“Nova, you know me,” he smirked, taking a step back holding his hands in the air “I’m a Companionator,” he mouthed pointing at himself whilst walking away backwards.

Shaking my head at him, I took a deep breath before giving Charles my attention, “You stalking me now?” I laughed, leaning against the counter behind me, folding my arms across my chest.

“Sunshine, I didn’t know you worked here,” he mumbled, gripping the edge of the counter as he spoke. The sight of his ring clad hands caused my heart rate to triple, why did he make me so nervous?

“Yuup,” I nodded, popping the ‘p’. “Spend the mornings here and the nights at the bar.”

“Vous ne mentiez pas sur le fait que vous dirigiez deux entreprises. You weren't lying about running two companies,” he said softly, running his hand across his face.

“Pourquoi mentirais-je ? Why would I lie?” I said but the words came out a little harsher than I anticipated, the look on Charles face caused me to wince.

He dropped his eye contact as he rubbed the back of his neck, the tell tale sign of embarrassment, “Urm, I guess I don’t know,” he mumbled.

The sight of him fumbling over his words, warmed my heart. I’d never expect someone like him to be anything other than cocky and full of confidence yet here he was acting like a deer that had been caught in headlights. It was actually really endearing. The media always portrayed him as someone who had everything, even though he probably did, it was nice to see that deep down he was acting just as nervous as I felt.

“What can I get you?” I quickly asked, hoping that changing the subject could help clear the awkwardness that had fallen over the two of us.

“Urm, two coffees and a couple of blueberry muffins please,” he asked, his voice still quiet as he spoke. He had now moved from rubbing the back of his neck to fiddling with one of the many bracelets wrapped around his wrist.

“Coming right up,” I smiled, getting started on his order. My heart rate was slowly coming back down but the moment I passed him the first coffee, his fingers brushed against mine sending shockwaves through my body and in turn caused my heart to skip a beat. I had never felt this kind of connection with anyone before, although with Charles it was breathtaking. Soon enough the awkward tension around us had dissipated and the guy standing in front of me was the person who was confidently flirting with me in the bar last night.

“So Sunshine, what’s this fundraiser you were on about last night?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee whilst leaning against the counter.

“It’s something we do every year, each time we raise money for a different charity. Funds from this event will be going to a dementia charity,” I smiled, feeling tears prick my eyes as I said the one word I always tried to avoid, “it’s something extremely close to mine and Jax’s heart.”

“Your Pops?”

“Yeah,” I sighed, finding myself fiddling with my necklace, “he was diagnosed about a year ago and since then things have started to spiral.”

“What does the fundraiser entail?” Charles asked, it was like he could sense a change of subject was needed.

Reaching behind me I grabbed one of the many flyers to pass to him, “it’s in two man teams and is basically a big scavenger hunt across town. Starts at 10 and you have until 5pm to complete as many tasks as you can, capturing photo or video evidence. Each task has points attached to it and the team with the most points wins,” I smiled, watching as he intently read the flier. Whilst he took in the information I moved over to the pastry counter, finishing off his order.

I couldn’t help sneak glances as I carefully wrapped the muffins, placing them in the brown paper bag. A wave of confidence washed over me, I had no idea where it came from but I found myself swiping the marker pen off the counter, scribbling my phone number on a napkin.

For a moment I stared at the white square, deciding if I was going to do this. My head and heart were screaming different things at me but Jax’s words from yesterday rang in my head, he was right, I was still young and this might be my only chance. Carefully I folded the napkin in half before slipping it into the bag.

“I don’t know if you and your friend will still be in town by then,” I said softly, mentally praising myself for continuing the act of not knowing who he was. Although I wasn’t sure on how long I would be able to keep the charade going, “but if you are, it would be great to see you there, Jax has the sign up sheet at the bar,” I smiled, handing over the brown paper bag.

“See you around, Sunshine,” he said, throwing me a wink, spinning on his heels, coffee and baked goods in hand as he left the cafe.

@withmyteeth @chibsytelford @stillbreathin @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @celestialams @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @babypink224221

[popcornforone]

Monday Moods

A Pre-Outbreak Joel Miller Fan Fic

I was struggling what as to what I could write next. You all know I have so many in draft but I had a few people go oooh a new Joel… So here we are posting about Joel before his world fell apart. It’s been a while since I’ve written him. I do have another Joel in draft but I’m just not feeling it at the moment.

Synopsis: Your night shift is over & Sarah is off to school, what can you & Joel do to make this less of a moody Monday.

Word count:2550

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF TOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18! PURE SMUT piv sex, stimulation, licking, nipple sucking, teasing, swearing. Slight age gap but not huge, mentions of loss of virginity. This is also based on Pedros Joel & it is before the events of the show. Basically it’s full on sex.

Thanks as always for the read peoples, it’s always really appreciated. All feedback is always welcome, it’s helps me grow as a writer. Enjoy.

“I hate Mondays” slam the front door goes. Sarah might have marched her way out of the house onto the school bus, but she left part of the Monday mood behind with her. Your night shift means you’re already cranky ready for 4 nights off, before the next shift rotation starts. It’s only the sight of your partner coming downstairs that makes you smile. Not even the decaf coffee has done that.

“Was Sarah mean to you?” Joel asks sounding genuinely concerned that the two of you may have fallen out & it’s not even 8am. You’re not her mum. He can see the glazed eyes staring back at him. They are trying to care & be alive for him, but he can tell you’ve just had it now, they need a rest. He slurps on his orange Juice straight from the carton as he leans on the kitchen counter. His morning hair all over the place, not even brushed.

“You’d hate Mondays too if you had double math at the age of 15” you say with a frown as he drinks. He clocks your stern look. The free hand apologising as he then starts to hunt for a glass.

“Fair point, it’s why they teach them advanced math, isn’t math just enough?”

“Clearly not” you reply slurping your coffee, trying not to smirk at his remark. You want to be tired but not angry when you got to bed in a little while. “How many shifts have you got today?” You genuinely ask your lover with care. You’re slowly becoming a bit more like you.

“Just the two, first one doesn’t start until

Mid-day,so I’ve got time to spend with the other special girl in my life” he says as he comes across to you, kissing up your arm.

You look around.

“I don’t see a special girl in here” you joke letting him pepper you with kisses. A nip here or there, making you shudder.

“Well that’s because all the curtains are pulled & there’s no mirror to reflect your special face back at you” his juice & breakfast are no longer what he had an appetite for. His smile insinuating he wants much more than that.

“Joel? really? now?”

“Yes now or it won’t be til I’m dirty & sweaty tonight” he says. His neck kisses always make you give in. You’ve always been putty in his hands.

“Maybe I prefer you like that”

“I think you do, my specialty is to be as scruffy & rough as you want me”

“Speaking of which baby, your T-shirt’s inside out” you chuckle.

You fling your arms around Joel & your lips meet his. He might be rough & rougged, but those hands that he always has to clean, make you feel like the dirtiest thing of all. At just His touch, you feel like you were 17 again, the age you were when he first asked you to babysit his 4 year old 11 years ago. He still gives you butterflies each time he kisses you, like when you first saw him. A teenager with a fantasy when he would drive you home. You were not the reason for Sarah mum leaving but once you came back from college each summer, it was hard for him to not ignore you. You just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

The kiss breaks & he then stands up & you wrap your legs around him. “I know where this is heading mr miller” you giggle as you bite his ear lobe.

“If you keep biting my earlobe, we won’t even get to bed baby.”

“Well the lounge curtains are still pulled” you raise an eyebrows & Joel reverses into his arm chair before he lowers himself into it. This arm chair is where he watches the big games on a Sunday from. You cook him dinner & then leave for your night shift safe in the knowledge that American football will be the only thing distracting him those nights. His hands even if he wanted them to, don’t wonder else where, only on you.

The rattle of his belt being undone is a noise that always makes you smile. Joel’s never one for foreplay. A few words here & there but if he’s even slightly in the mood, you can guarantee that sex is on its way. You stand up for a few seconds to remove your work trousers & knickers, you wore your pink lace ones to work as a treat for you, but you see the smile creep across Joel’s face when you fling them at him.

“I brought you those last year for Valentine’s Day”

“That you did baby”

“I do believe…” he says as he glides his trousers & his briefs around his ankles & beacons you to come take your seat in his lap again”… that I made you lick yourself out of them that night”

“I would never do that Joel Miller” you exclaim in reply as you smile. It was a wonderful night of love making, thank you to high school for a week long residential trip, so Sarah couldn’t hear the two of you having sex all night. But your mind is back in the present when you see him cock his two fingers at you calling you over . The other hand is leisurely stroking his length looking at you naked from the waist down, wondering just how wet he still makes you. The tip leaking already, as you lick your own bottom lip. You are about to be more than satisfied.

You put your hands on the back of his arm chair & position yourself ready to lower onto his lap & his throbbing meaty cock. When you were still at college & you dated other boys while you were there, none of them had what Joel did, none of them made you scream in pleasure like him either. They all wanted a long blow job, & never finished you off when they’d cum far too soon. You’d had a taste of a manly moody Miller & now it was yours every day if you wanted it. Right now being filled by him is all that’s on your mind. He slowly nudges at your entrance, his length gliding through your arousal. He tuts & shakes his head mischievously.

“I have no idea why I buy lube baby, you’re always so wet for me darling, so eager, so ready” it’s growled from the back of the throat these words as he lowers you into his cock.

“Fuck… me.. Joel” you whimper, as you adjust to his size & the way it stretches you. Your body wanting to cum straight away & make you explode all over him, but you slowly regain your composure. Your eyes filled with desire when you open them & look at the man you love. His eyes light up from seeing your own enjoyment of this moment. The smile across his face is one of desire. Your hands graze across his jaw line. Each prickle of his hair making you want to get lost in your kisses again.

“So tight baby, made for me this pussy, you saved your Cherry for me all those years ago, & im always very grateful for that” Joel lightly slaps your bum which makes you gasp, before his hands go for your hips. They grip on to you ready for you to start to grind & rive on this cock.

“Only you Joel, only you” you gasp as you start moving now you’re comfortable. Your own hands trialing his T-shirt with the other messing up his morning hair even more. He might have had a hair cut recently but it’s still thick & lots to play with. “Your T-shirt is still inside out baby” you groan as you lean in to take his lips again. Succulent & full of love.

Joel’s not bothered. He’s not saying much at all. A few just like that & oh fucks escape when it’s not heavy breathing & panting from him. He’s watching your body roll onto him. Showing your pelvis work, wondering how he got so lucky to have you & that a girl like you would be bothered by him at all, especially when they were younger. Desire takes over him & his lips leave your mouth & the kisses pepper your own jaw line making you whine more. Your body grinding down on his cock more, enjoying all the pleasure he is providing as you drag him through your walls. But your moans get louder. One simple lick up your neck as he tastes your sweat send your body into convulsions of pleasure. A tongue that often satisfies you by lapping at your cunt for hours is now gliding up you neck.

“J…J…Joel…” it’s a groan, it’s deep & it’s filled with lust as he starts his next neck lick, your bodies nerves driven into override. It has him gasping before he licks down your neck & starts to suck the crook of your neck before he kisses your collar & shoulder. You clamp around him & he hisses, the excitement building up inside him as well.

“Ooh my love” Joel is in charge & is admiring how well you take his firm thrusts. Each one firmer, more fervent, faster & becoming more frenzied. He’s lost in your body, He finally removes your top from the hem upwards over your head, your hair still tied up. His head straight away burys into your cleavage the bra makes, as you unhook in from the back for him. You cry out once your breasts are free as he take your nipple into his mouth sucking it, like he would an ice pop. Your hand goes to your clit, furiously after friction, feeling insane that your man makes you want to do everything with him still after all these years.

“Yes Joel, yes” you moan “don’t stop, don’t stop, never stop” you’re losing control as you grip onto his arm. “Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck”. His mouth might be occupied with your breasts moving onto the next one, but he’s pulsing more, getting even harder, holding you so tight. Your body bouncing, feeling his penis get harder if that was possible as it hits that spot inside you, the one that when he finds it shocks your system. Makes you bounce more. Makes your hands grip around whatever they are on. He briefly comes away from your chest to growl.

“Fuck year baby” it’s deep & longing his words before he latches back into your tit. Like all men Joel enjoys all types of sex, but there is something about sucking your nipples & teasing your breasts that Joel adores. They aren’t the biggest breasts in the world, but they are more than a handful. & if someone held a gun to Joel’s head & asked what was his ultimate turn on he would say his head buried in your chest. You may not have any kids of your own but you know any you & Joel might one day have will not offer the satisfaction or feeling that this man’s lips do as they suck at your erect nipples. It makes you get lost in your own mind as your body crushes him & pushes him back into the arm chair even more.

“God Joel fuck”

“Oooh baby”

“Joel… Joel… fuck yes yes yes”

“Come on daring”

“Ooooh fuck”

All these word flow out of your mouths as the thrusting reaches its climax & you let go as Joel nibbles your nipple, drenching his penis, your walls fluttering around as they clamp around him, the follow up motion he fills you, breaking away from your breast. His own eyes rolling into the back of his head as he cums. Both of your body’s shaking in desire, longing looks no longer being met by each other. The smell of lust in the air, which the only sound is of you both breathing heavily as you come down from cumming so hard & ferociously.

You eventually rest your head on Joel shoulder, before looking up into his big brown eyes while he strokes your naked back, he is still inside you. You sigh looking at him before you tenderly kiss his lips. He strokes your hair with his spare hand.

“Joel?”

“Yes my darling?”

You giggle “your T-shirts now not only very sweaty but inside out still” you smile before you kiss him again.

“Ha” Joel laughs. “Maybe I wanted it that way, so then when I turn it around your sweat that dropped on me will be closer to my skin” he does a mischievous look at you.

“That is disgusting Joel Miller” you scoff & try & look shocked at what he’s said but you can’t hide that this turns you on slightly.

“Well maybe I will go change” he says as he slowly help you off him & makes sure your steady on his feet before he pulls his briefs trouser back up, which we’re still around his ankles. “But I’m not gonna shower, I want to smell of you when I sweat.” Before you can protests he’s put his large thumb over your mouth to silence you “thought you liked me sweaty & dirty?” He says before embracing your lips. His tongue not even asking permission, gliding to meet your own before he then finally removes his tshirt.

Time passes & you have showered & slept while Joel has left for work. You’re in the kitchen backing cookies when Sarah gets home. She looks stressed.

“Is it still a Monday Miller mood?” You ask her as you hear the bag slump down in the hall way.

“Urghhh”comes the cry from Sarah. “Advanced math is hell why do…” she’s interrupted by the smell of you baking cookies. “Are you making…” her head pops around the door frame. She sees your frazzled state. You’re held together by your nap,shower & sex. Your hair is no longer tied up & is frizzy & you are in your baggy shorts & one of Joel’s T-shirts for comfort.

“You know you sounded just like your dad when you started asking about advanced math” you say which makes her laugh.

“& you…” she says as she comes & sits at the counter ready to offer a hand knowing you are making her favourite cookies to get her out of her moody Monday “look like dad, your T-shirts inside out” you hadn’t even noticed the grey top wasn’t on properly.

“Well I guess that means I fit right in” you say as you pass her the bowl to stir.

“That you do”

“That you do” it’s echoed after Sarah said it as Joel is standing in the door way admiring you both getting on. You both turn & smile, before Sarah’s goes to hug her dad. Even at 15 a daughter needs a hug from her dad.

“How is my special girl?” He asks as he stroke Sarah’s hair.”did she have a good Monday?”

“She’s fine” Sarah’s replies & then she smiles at you & winks like her dad does “& im okay too”.

[thunderwetter]

headcanons for my favourite minibot, Beachcomber?

Oooh Beachcomber! Often mentioned, but just as often forgotten. He's really not getting much of a Spotlight usually, but I do have a few things for him in stock~ TLDR; - Is not an addict, but he does like the vibe that being high creates - Trust is very important! - Focused on pleasing his partner, willing to try different things - Doesn't like anything involving pain - Enjoys doing it outside, but is careful about being caught - Great massages, very loving - Can't do one-night-stands with strangers, needs some deeper connection, but is open for having multiple partners at once

Curious about other characters? My ask box is open!

Longer version:

I think for many people Beachcomber is kinda headcanoned (is that even a word?) as a complete stoner, but I don't think he's straight up addicted. He'd enjoy some nice refined crystal energon from time to time, maybe try a different kick here and there, but given that he's a chill dude in general, most wouldn't even notice when he's high and he doesn't need any of that stuff either.

This applies also to his behavior in berth. He'd be fine to do it without any mind-altering substances, but he does appreciate the pretty pink haze that fills the room whenever there's some smoking going on. It would create a lewd atmosphere and set a great mood for him to indulge and some mechs do need some help to ease up a bit.

Trust is a big thing for him, nothing feels better than a partner who can fully let go of themselves and isn't scared to ask for things from him. Beachcomber doesn't mind experimenting and trying new things and the feeling of being the trusted one, the center of the other bot's world even just in that moment, would make not only his day but his week and his month. He'd be a very loving guy, focused a lot on pleasing his partner. (Which also extends to the relationship)

Stuff that would inflict pain on himself or his partners is where he draws a line though. He's fine with some slight form of pain play, like applying pressure in certain areas (such as fuel lines) or light scratching, but for anything that would cause any participant to actually shriek out or bleed, you would have to find a different bot. He'd immediately lose the charge, no matter how close he is, if he noticed his partner react in a pained manner.

I feel like with him being a nature guy, enjoying to do it outside is kinda a given. There's nothing quite like being able to appreciate nature while being connected to someone else. It's a natural thing after all, so why be confined to a single room? That's kinda the idea. He would try to stay away from areas where he could be seen though, he doesn't wanna risk a public offense after all, he prefers to stay out of trouble haha.

He'd also give the *best* massages, paying a lot of attention to how the other body feels underneath his hands and using his sensors to recognize any blocked energon streams and twisted cables. It would play right into his desire to please and give him second-hand tingles all over his own body.

Connecting to a deeper level is very important to him, I can see him having an open relationship, or even threesomes and stuff like that, but never just straight-up one-night-stands and flings. He needs some kind of a personal bond, strangers don't really do it for him.

It was a lot of fun to think about Beachcomber some more, thank you for the ask!

[parvulous-writings]

Surprise // Silco x M!Reader

This is a special little oneshot - for the amazing @rey-is-not-a-skywalker

Summary: Silco has noticed some of your recent behaviours, so gives you a little surprise

Warnings: It's nothing graphic, it's just rather specifically tailored! partially uncharacteristically soft silco - lots of tension with Sevika. Detailed but also... not detailed?

Words: 2.6K

Notes:  Unfortunately something is wrong with my Tumblr right now - it's going through long phases of not letting me save drafts and/or post. I've submitted tickets but the first one said there wasn't anything wrong (from a couple weeks ago) and the most recent one hasn't gotten a response yet. I appreciate all of your patience <3 My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Not my gif

Silco had always had a bit of a soft spot for you. At first, he tried to hide it, but here were ways in which you could tell; you'd be the only one he'd offer a drink to at a meeting, his eyes would linger on you for a moment too long every so often, and the mere fact that you worked for him were all signs that some way, somehow, you had wormed your way into his seemingly cold, dead heart. The first to notice was of course, his right hand, Sevika. At first she thought it was merely strange, but then she started to get downright suspicious. First the child he had taken under his wing, and now... You. The child, for the most part, stayed out of Sevika's way, even when spending time with Silco. She could deal with that. But you, you were never too far from Silco - you were practically on display. The man made sure that he always had an excuse on hand to keep you close - preferably within his line of sight. You didn't seem to notice the special attention you always got from the man, but Sevika did. To her, it was akin to a giant flashing neon sign above your head. Though part of her was indeed happy that Silco had finally started to feel emotions strongly enough to care for someone again, another part of her was simply boiling at the prospect. Not out of jealousy, but more out of sheer impracticality. This was not the time to fall in love. Not when everything between Zaun and Piltover was at a head - when Silco needed to keep a close eye on his very calculated moves concerning Topside. The last thing he - or anyone else involved - needed, was a distraction.

But to Silco, the kind of distraction you were giving him wasn't the kind that would be the end of his operation - at least in his eyes. To him, you were giving him a break from the rest of the world, some peace that he had needed for what had now become many years. It was a kind of peace that made him feel almost normal, that for those brief moments, he could pretend that perhaps he had a better life; friends, perhaps a small family, a proper home. This little daydream of his never usually lasted for long, but he wished it would at times.

After about three weeks of Silco's unusual behaviour concerning you, Sevika had reached her boiling point. She couldn't deal with this situation without answers anymore. So, storming up the corridor towards Silco's study, she had a purpose. She was going to get to the bottom of this little mystery, she knew that much. Several scenarios were playing through her mind as she reached the door, flinging it open with such strength that it almost put a hole in the wall. Silco immediately looked up, glaring at the intruder. Even after realising that it was only Sevika, his gaze didn't waver. It seemed that the woman had interrupted whatever goings-on had been happening in the room, and Silco was not happy about it. Silco put down the small objects he had been fiddling with, raising his undamaged brow at the woman. "And what is the meaning of this?" He asked, his voice starting to drip with venom. "We need to... discuss something." Sevika replied, choosing her words very carefully. She didn't want to anger Silco, but she knew that she was already on her way to that eventuality. "Do we really? Well, last time I checked, people typically knock at my door before entering." He glanced to the corner of the room mid-sentence. "It's alright, you don't need to be afraid... You just keep playing..." A small smile plays on his lips as he speaks to you, sat in the corner, happily amusing yourself. Silco's gaze span back to Sevika, becoming cold once more. "Sit down." The woman didn't argue, sitting herself in the uncomfortable - albeit allegedly padded - chair on the other side of Silco's desk. "What exactly is this about?" Silco asked, brushing away the pieces of clutter he had been fiddling with a few minutes prior. Sevika stayed quiet for a moment too long, and it wore Silco's patience thin very quickly. "Well?" He snapped impatiently. "We need to talk about... Him." Sevika's gaze briefly flitted to you, and Silco's eyes narrowed. He wasn't liking where this was going. "What about him?" Silco's tone was cold, almost accusatory. It held an unsaid 'choose your next words very carefully'. Though Sevika was undeniably a valuable asset to his operation, he was not opposed to disciplining her if she dared to speak ill of you. Sevika fell silent again at this. How was she going to put this without royally pissing him off? "I just think..." She began, but soon trailed off as she watched Silco's slender hands slowly ball into fists as they rested on his desk. "... That he's distracting you." There was no other way for her to put it, so she decided to try and face the issue head on, no matter how Silco's temper may to it. "Distracting me?" Silco's voice was... Eerily calm. "And how exactly would you say he's distracting me?" Sevika just gestured to his desk with her augmented arm, then to you seated in the corner with her other arm. "He... He does not contribute. All he does is sit and play like a child. He isn't a child! And you just... Let him? You let him sit in on sensitive shit, Silco!" She exclaimed, getting to her feet. "It's not right." "You wish to lecture me on what is right?" Silco responded, voice practically oozing past his lips. He leant back in his chair as he spoke, eyes trained on Sevika across from him. "After all I have given to you? After all we have achieved together?" His hand trails along the surface of his desk as he slowly gets to his feet. "Have you anything else you wish to say about my arrangements here?" He asks, gesturing vaguely to the room encasing you all. At this question, Sevika falls silent. She knows what kind of test this is - a test of loyalty. Whether she is willing enough to withstand Silco's... fancies, or whether she wants to be dealt with. Typically, Sevika was the one to do the 'dealing', so no doubt she would be left to Jinx, to be the young woman's play thing.

Sevika barely even needed to consider this; she's played with Jinx before, and as demure as the teen could seem to most, she was truly unhinged when it mattered. She had bested Sevika, and the older woman was not too keen to let that happen again. Silco began to turn away, his hand resting on the back of his chair, just above his shoulder height. He heaved a sigh, his slender shoulders slowly moving up, then down with the action, as he tried to rid himself of the tension that had now rooted in the muscle. "I… Didn't mean right as in…" Sevika started to try and explain herself, in an effort to keep herself in his good books, but by the grip that he suddenly had on the top of his chair, he wasn't in any sort of mood to listen to her reasonings. His head whipped round partially, his lips parted in a sneer. Sevika slowly nodded at this, finally deciding to react to the silent message she was being given. Perhaps she would try and get him alone - if that were even possible. Without another word, she left the room, closing the door and returning the room to how it had been before her arrival. Silco runs a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself, before rounding his chair to face you, as you happily sat with your little creations, blissfully ignoring the conversation that had gone on beside you, just a few feet away. Silco returned to his seat, bringing the objects he had been occupied with before back to his attention, and right in front of him. Carefully, and with a deft hand, he clipped all the pieces together, making sure they fit perfectly, and could move with relative ease without being too loose. When he was finally satisfied with the state of his creation, he got to his feet once more, slowly and quietly making his way over to you. "My dear..." He began, his tone dipped in a softness that rarely ever showed itself. You glance up briefly, a little surprised that he's approached you - it's the middle of the day, shouldn't he be working? Your brows furrow as you are about to ask this question to him, but he seems to predict your query before the words pass your lips. "I always have time for you." He speaks, handing you the small figure he had been working on nearly all morning.

It's a small, pose-able bat. Your eyes light up - the model itself had many smaller components that must not have been easy to place. "I made sure it was perfect, for you." Silco's voice breaks you from your thoughts again, the man's smile visible to you before your eyes had even turned back to his face again. "Well? Do you like it?" He asks, not quite impatient, but more... Desperate. Eager, perhaps is the best way to describe him - he wants, no, needs to know that it's to your liking. You giggle quietly, nodding at him with a wide smile. "I love it, Silco..." You stretch up for a moment, pressing a gentle kiss to his scarred cheek. You then turn back to your model - a vast array of little buildings, all of which Silco has, over time, watched you build and place according to your whims. You gaze over the miniature skyline briefly, before finding the perfect place to nestle this little creature Silco had gifted you - perched amongst some billboards, hiding in plain sight of the human figurines lining the streets below. "There..." You say, partly to yourself, before turning back to look at Silco, beaming with pride. "He can stay there, and we can both see him..." You chuckle, and Silco slowly lowers himself to sit beside you. "He, hm?" Silco hums, "And that's his name? I never thought of one for him..." He muses, playing along with you. You purse your lips in thought, trying to wrack your brain for a suitable name for your newfound bat figure. You shake your head, your nose scrunches as you fail to bring forth a suitable name for the little bat. "I've got nothing..." You reply softly, almost sounding disappointed. You feel Silco's hand come to rest on your shoulder. "It's alright... I'm sure we'll think of something, hm?" He pauses for a moment, his thumb slowly moving over your shoulder in an attempt to soothe any true disappointment you may have. "Now... How about we come away from this for a little while, and get you something to eat?" You nod slowly in agreement, and the pair of you get to your feet; Silco's hand fumbles for a moment whilst it seeks out yours, before your fingers intertwine with one another's.

Lunch, as always, was served in Silco's office, but the pair of you had moved over to another part of the room, sitting down at a small table and pair of plush chairs, that Silco had actually put in a week or so after your arrival. Before you, Silco had often had lunch alone at his desk, but now he had someone to dine with, who actually seemed to be less afraid of him than anyone else. In truth, there was little reason for you to fear Silco - the temper and fury that he had so often let loose on others without warning and without mercy, had never been directed at you, not even a smidgen of it. You had seen it before, of course, living with him made that more violent side of him hard to avoid, but he would always go and calm himself down before he came back to you, if something had gotten him too riled up. You sat across from one another, happily tucking in to your warm meals. Naturally, it was no Topside meal, but it was some of the best you'd be able to get in the Underground. Silco had made sure that you would always get the finest of what the Lanes had to offer, no matter what it took to get it. Thankfully, being the one to pull the strings in the majority of Zaun now, this was no issue for the man. He had treated you to the finest things he could get his hands on, most of them from the other barons of the Underground, but some things he even managed to import from Topside - not that he ever let you in on his secrets on that side of things. In fact, it was very rare that Silco let you know of, well, anything in terms of business. You had asked him about this once or twice before, and his only response was about 'keeping you safe'. That's all it ever was, no matter what you tried to discuss with him on the side of business. 'I don't want you getting involved, dear.' He'd tell you. 'It's not safe, and I'd rather not even think about risking you in this kind of trade... Please, understand at least this much, if anything..' And after that particular conversation, he'd brush you off or change the subject any time you'd bring it up. In his eyes, he had made his stance on the situation very clear. In it's own, sort of sweet way, you believed that this was the main way Silco showed he cared for you - even if he never really said it out loud, besides perhaps the pet name. Public displays - hell, most outward displays - of affection were not entirely Silco's area... And you've never pushed for that kind of thing, as it seemed to be a somewhat tender subject for him. You never asked why, it was not your business, and you hoped that eventually he may trust you - and himself - enough to tell you. For the time being, though, you were both happy enough keeping your relationship as it was; a vastly unspoken one, where although your care and affection for one another was deep-rooted and painfully obvious even to the pair of you, nothing was ever truly confirmed, nothing was made concrete by your words. You were happy with it for the most part - though a small part of you yearned desperately for the validation of his love - and although you hoped to bring up the unspoken part of your relationship at some point in the future, it was to remain the distant future for the time being. You didn't want to ruin a good thing and push Silco too much for an answer, causing him to just... Cut off everything entirely. You had seen it happen before, though mostly with lesser goons that he took in to do all of his dirty work, and whilst you didn't see yourself on their level, you didn't want to take any risks.

"Did you like your surprise?" Silco's low, velvet voice breaks you from your trance. You look up to him, and nod eagerly. You loved it - a truly wonderful and sweet surprise. "I did... Was there an occasion for it?" You asked, placing your cutlery on your plate as you finished your meal. "Do I need an occasion to get you gifts?" He responds, his eyes now fixed on the remainder of his meal. You pause briefly, before shaking your head in answer to his question. "No, of course not..." You crack a smile at him, which he soon returns when he meets your eye. He lets out a breathy chuckle, clearly pleased with this response of yours. "Good... Because, I can assure you, there will be many more to come..."

[coal15]

Just finished the first draft of Ch.10 of my Good Omens fic All Roads Lead Back. This chapter is a bit different because it's mostly backstory of a new OC. I thought of the idea like a month ago and I knew exactly how I was going to introduce her. I'm hoping to have it locked and posted w/in the next couple of days. So, here's a little excerpt:

Once upon a time an Angel was sent to a small town about an hours' drive outside of London to monitor and protect the local squirrel population until further notice. Why? Well, the longer she remained there, the more she suspected literally no reason at all besides Gabriel’s desire to show the Almighty what a tight ship he was running. Everyone occupied with tasks and missions. Or maybe the pompous dick just didn’t like her. A squirrel or two occasionally stopped to socialise, but mostly they just squirrelled about in proper squirrel fashion and paid her no mind.

Her only escape from the boredom was gardening and music. When weather allowed, she would fling open the doors and windows of her small cottage and blast Fleetwood Mac, Bowie, Blondie, or whatever, whilst she tending to flowerbeds. Generally no one complained about this habit of hers because the homes in her village had a decent amount of space between them, so it wasn't like she was blowing out anyone’s eardrums. Besides, they all appreciated her taste in music. With one exception.

. . . “The Sex Pistols were not well received,” the Angel says with a giggle as Aziraphale and Crowley listen to her story with tingling curiosity. “So I removed them from my gardening soundtrack rotation right away.”

“That was very polite of you,” Aziraphale says with a smart nod, quite certain he also would not appreciate the musical stylings of a band called The Sex Pistols. 

. . . One day the Angel was weeding between the peonies and primrose when a handsome young man who often roamed about with his dog wandered over to the fence around her little patch of the world. “No music today?” He asked with a gentle smile.

“Nah. I need to replace the needle on my record player, it scratched up Miles Davis pretty bad the other day. But I probably should have replaced it ages ago, so. Joke’s on me.”

“Bummer.” The man’s smile went from gentle to shy. “I, uh, when I take Pippin out for walks I usually go by this place just to hear what you’re playing. You have killer taste.”

“I get that a lot.” Something about the man’s smile made her insides feel warm. 

“Have you heard of Cyndi Lauper? She’s pretty new.”

The Angel flipped through her mental catalogue and came up empty. “Ummmmm, I don’t think so.” 

“You should check her out. She’s got, like, the most unique voice.”

“I’ll add it to my list.” Ask his name! She shouted at herself with a bizarre urgency she didn’t quite understand. “Sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“Allan. And I already know your name-not in a creepy way!” He yelped the moment he said the words and heard how they sounded. “But, you’re, y’know the Garden Music Girl. You’re kinda . . . known. Around here. In general.”

The Angel didn’t know what to say. She bit the corner of her lip as her insides got even warmer and she wondered what Allan’s favourite food was. If it’s pizza I know a great spot, I could take him there. And maybe a pint at Salty Dog if he-

“I am so stupid!” Allan interrupted her inner dialogue. “Christ, what an idiot! I can get you a great deal on a new needle. Or hell, a whole new player if you want. My family runs a record shop in London.”

. . . . “Zoe!” Aziraphale cuts off the story with a sharp gasp when he makes the connection, then turns to Crowley. “Darling, this is Maggie’s mother!” 

Crowley tilts an ear closer to Aziraphale, wondering if perhaps he misheard. “How’s that?”  

A fond expression washes over Zoe’s face as she thinks back on her mortal days. “It took me a minute to realise I was in love with Allan but as soon as I did, unplugging from Heaven so we could grow old together and have kids was the easiest decision I ever made.”

“And as a human, you never . . .”

“Nope.” Zoe shook her head. “I had no idea you were an Angel. To me you were just the sweet, quirky guy who owned our building."

********to read Chapter One, go HERE