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dilf-docs · 2 months ago

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It Always Leads To You

joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

#dilfistwrites #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #tlou #tlou fanfiction

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omgthatdress · 1 year ago

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The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence started when three friends banded together to dress as nuns and recite a loving and forgiving liturgy to drive homophobic evangelists off of Castro Street in San Francisco. It worked. The organization quickly expanded as an advocacy group for gay rights.

When asked why they are dressed as nuns, the answer was, "We do all that traditional nuns have done for centuries. Our look might be unique, but our ministry is common. We serve our community. We have raised lots of money for AIDS and other social causes. We visit the sick, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and sometimes disrobe the clothed! We are 21st Century queer nuns."

The Sisters primarily made a name for themselves through their AIDS activism. In 1982, The Sisters published Play Fair! which was the first humorous and easy-to-understand sexual health and safety pamphlet specifically intended for gay men.

The Sisters also used their presence to shame homophobic public figures, performing "exorcisms" on Phyllis Schlaffey, Jerry Fallwell, and Pope John Paul II, as well as on the steps of the U.S. House of Representatives.

In 2023, The Los Angeles Dodgers caused a huge controversy by selecting the Sisters to receive a "community hero award" on their Pride Night game (again, the Sisters are a legendary charity group that has literally saved lives), but then they gave in to right-wing pressure and cancelled it. Eventually, they realized how badly they had fucked up and re-invited the Sisters to their game.

The sisters remain active today with many chapters across the U.S. and Canada. Membership is open to all genders and sexualities.

#drag #history of drag #gay #queer #lgbt #gay history #queer history #lgbt history

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horrortalecomic · 7 months ago

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The rest of Chapter 2, Aliza in Waterfall, will be released as a fully playable webgame instead of a comic in October. I understand this is quite different from past installments, but the truth is, Aliza's adventure actually comes to me much more clearly as a game for this chapter than a comic series.

Chapter 2 of Book II has already been released to Patrons before I made this decision, and is very different from what the official story of Horrortale is to be. For $5 a month All of Chapter 2, Book II can be read here, along with a few more goodies about the upcoming game.

Amazingly, I have found the means to re-visit Horrortale as the game I had always envisioned it to be. You might remember what I mean; as in this popular mini web-game where Aliza ventures through Snowdin (you can try playing the flash game here) Most of my fans discovered me through that very webgame, and I feel it is time to re-attempt and answer the many, many calls to release another chapter in this medium.

As I busily work on this webgame, a future update will be released September 1st. I aim to complete this project completely by the month of October.

I cannot thank you all enough for your interest and patience in the telling of this story. I am very aware of the wait in store for you after such a brief return. That is the way of truly independently-run passion projects created and released publicly by one person alone. Should the game fail, please know that I will absolutely return to telling the story in comic form ASAP.

Another big thank-you for your patience on this wild ride!

Commissions are closed. Read the rules here

The SAS pin is available! Buy it on Etsy

Navigate the comic on DA here.

New? View the first page here.

Read the FAQ here.

Read the archives here

Patrons have access to more in-depth updates and have questions answered ($1) as well as screenshots/details on this upcoming game ($5).

#horrortale #comic #undertale #book ii #update

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wileys-russo · 6 months ago

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mascot II l.williamson

"you nervous?" you asked, leaning in your door frame as leah glanced over to you with a firm shake of her head. "no." she replied quickly, not an ounce of doubt present in her voice but you knew her well enough to see the flicker of unease in her eyes.

you stepped into the bathroom, making your way over to her and gently pushing her hands out of the way where she'd been messing about with the collar of her jacket.

"it's okay if you are, means its important and you want to do well." you assured softly, folding over and smoothing out her collar, tapping her shoulders with a smile.

"maybe a tiny bit nervous then." your girlfriend admitted quietly, pulling you into a sudden hug as her chin rested on your shoulder.

"you mean to tell me the leah williamson, england captain and european champion is human?" you gasped teasingly, leah pinching your sides.

"you'll be brilliant my love. you've done everything right lee, now its time to go and enjoy it." you smiled kindly, holding her away from you at arms length, your hands gently clasping her face.

"what if i mess it up again?" the doubt was now clear in her facial features as her eyebrows turned downward into a deep frown.

"like i said lee, you're human. football has ups and football has downs, you've been smashing it back on pitch for arsenal. this isn't anything different, you go out and you give 100% and do your best for your country. no one can ever expect anything more from you than that." you assured, eyes never leaving hers as she nodded.

"i love you." she replied simply, leaning in and pressing her lips to yours. you indulged her for a moment, leahs hands slipping down to your hips and drawing your body closer into hers.

"i need to go before you get in trouble for having visitors." you pulled away with a smile, leah sighing but nodding none the less. "stop pouting, i'll be seeing you in like three hours." you laughed at her face, sweetly pecking her lips a few more times.

"i'll meet you with the mascots yeah? you'll have mia?" leah asked, hands grabbing yours and fiddling with your fingers as you hung about by her door. "we'll be there." you promised, your girlfriend nodding as you opened the door.

"ah! captain mode, be professional." you warned with a playful glare as she took the opportunity of your back facing her to reach out and smack your bum, her usual cheeky grin returning as you shook your head.

then with one more final kiss goodbye, you were gone.

"how does she seem?" you murmured quietly to keira, keeping a watchful eye on your niece as she ran around giggling, making friends left right and centre forever the social butterfly. "good. stern and serious as usual!" keira chuckled, bumping her shoulder into yours.

"back to herself then." you laughed quietly, greeting a few of the other girls as they joined you, your girlfriend still not to be seen as they called out for the mascots to line up so the girls could meet them properly.

you bid keira goodbye and squatted down as mia ran over. "come here you grub." you laughed with a shake of your head, re-tucking in her shorts and smoothing out her hair.

"you are just like your dad." you chuckled, your older brother forever bouncing about like an energizer bunny nearly his whole life. "do i have to tuck it in?" she groaned, stamping her foot and pulling her shirt back out of her shorts.

"all the very best footballers tuck their shirt." you looked up to see your favourite smile bearing down on you, mia tackling leah in a hug and wrapping tightly around her leg. "can you do it please?" mia asked, lifting her arms as leah knelt down to help her tuck it in.

"mia! what was wrong with how i did it?" you gasped in mock offence, hand on your chest as your niece shrugged. "aunty lee's the best at everything." she answered simply, leah picking her up into a tight hug.

"yeah very mature captain williamson." you rolled your eyes at the older girl who stuck her tongue out at you over the five year olds shoulder making her giggle. snapping back out of it your girlfriend gently placed mia back down, again squatting to her height.

"hey mee." leah started, poking at her sides and making her squeal. "so when you walk out with me in a little bit i won't be smiling very much. i want you to know that doesn't mean i'm upset or grumpy or anything. but all of this-" she paused to gesture her hands around the room.

"-this is my job. and part of my job means i have to be a bit more serious than usual, and make sure all my girls are ready to play the best football we can. but that doesn't mean im cross with you, okay?" leah finished with a reassuring smile, mia nodding along in understanding as your heart melted at the sight.

"you're the boss!" your neice chirped, tapping the england crest on leahs top with her hand making you laugh as your girlfriend grinned up at you.

"nah not the boss, just wear the armband and look after the girls. don't tell anyone but really i just pretend to know what im doing!" leah whispered looking around before grinning at the five year old, ruffling her hair and standing up as the refs appeared ready to walk out.

"now mia you listen to aunty lee when you're out there yeah? and then as soon as you're told to you come right back and meet me here and i'll take us to our seats. okay? no funny business!" you warned, your niece nodding as leah held out her hand, stern look already settled into her features as mia bounced excitedly on her feet.

knowing better than to break leahs professionalism you took a step back, huddling on the edge of the tunnel with the families of the other mascots as the girls walked out.

watching on as mia sang her heart out to the national anthem made your own melt, catching leah almost break her serious facade, some of the other girls chuckling at the unbridled passion from your niece.

it was so fast you might have missed it if you blinked, but you saw the indescribable pride flicker across your girlfriends face as she used the back of her hand to wipe away a single tear, masking it as she clapped and the girls started to disperse.

you smiled as mia raced over to you, babbling on and on as you chuckled, taking her hand and just catching leahs eye. "i love you." you mouthed, a small smile curling into the corners of her mouth as she winked quickly, dropping back into position as you hoisted mia up onto your hip and left to make your ways to your seats.

and you'd never felt prouder.

#leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso community #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years ago

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Run Away To Me (I)

AU MASTERLIST || PART II

PAIRING: Blacksmith!Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Runaway Bride!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 4.8k

WARNINGS: Blood, wounds, being hunted/chased, medieval period-esc standards, arranged marriage insinuations, toxic family insinuations, angst, protective Johnny?, etc.

A/N: This series is so Lord Huron coded

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You rush through the low-hanging branches of the reaching pines, their green arms tearing at the once perfect and virginal white dress clothing your body; waves of delicate fabric like bird’s wings. Shredded and torn, you sob in large gasps while the shouting gets louder behind you—the pound of vile hooves along cobblestone.

“After her!” Blood was rushing down a long slice in your palm, dripping to the verdant grass as you traversed the off-trial paths, the roads of animals and bandits—monsters in the night.

Flashes of torchlight had gone out long ago, the rain slamming the ground with ancient purpose as the storm got angrier. Tree trunks slam into your shoulders, the wedding dress ripping away in strips as pine needles pierce the bare skin of your feet. Your shoes had slipped off as soon as you had started this mad dash.

“She went this way! Quickly!” You run faster, shuffling down a long hill as mud gets packed into your flesh; infecting wounds with its slimy make-up.

“Please,” your voice begs lowly, hiccuping out vowels as you drop to your knees at the bottom of a ravine before you sob and grit your teeth. Wading through the stream of chilled water, you dig into the ground and shove yourself up on shaking legs as rain pelts your head. “Please, I can’t go back.”

Even your thin clothes are heavy on you—body weighed down by terror and a desperate plea. Because what you said was true. You can’t go back. Can’t go back to the search party, can’t go back to the ceremony…and you can’t go back to the man you were supposed to marry. No, you’d rather face the woods.

Scaling up the other edge of the ravine, you slam a bloody hand down to the rocks atop, pebbles flying past your face as a flash of lightning momentarily illuminates your field of view. Noises reminiscent of an animal carve their way out of your esophagus, teeth gritted as feet slip and strain.

You heave yourself over and fight the weakness in your arms. Coughing, you pray the storm will wash away any trace of your charge to freedom—the blood and the tracks. With any luck, the hounds won’t be able to pick up your scent even with the strips of your dress left behind in the branches.

Pushing away the water from your forehead, you stumble onwards on unsteady feet that pound with pain. Grasping at your gushing palm, you cry out as the burning pain echoes up your forearm.

“Whatever God is out there,” You speak in gasps, slurring the words as your dry throat grates. It’s all but lost to the wind in its great bouts of staggering attacks through the trucks of the trees. “Please, offer me sanctuary.”

Lightning is the world’s answer, more streaks of light that make your soaked body flinch and shake even more. Yet, in that tiny second of light, there had been something in the far distance—a shadow.

Your eyes peer harder, the calls from the riders suck in the back of your mind as they taper off as the search is re-routed.

What was…?

Wooden sides, three separate rectangular shapes that stand firm in the rampaging elements. Your feet slide over the ground as you limp in the direction you’d seen them, the flesh of your body so cold that you had gone numb in the sheets of rainfall.

A heart fills with senseless hope.

A homestead! With no other option, you take a deep, ragged, breath and continue on as quickly as you’re able; dress hanging off one shoulder. When you reach the front door some ear-ringing minutes later you’re barely standing upright��legs teetering and thighs shaking with dying vigor.

Panting, your first banging to the wood is weak at best, barely a sound above the thunder and the slap of rain. You strangle a sob and wrench your shoulder back, landing three hard hits that act more like punches. Pain blossoms in your hand, but you continue striking the wood.

There’s a loud ruckus from behind the blackened barrier, a yell, and before your knuckles can make themselves bleed from fear-filled adrenaline, the door is whipped open. A dim firelight spills out from a low hearth and you find yourself staring into the narrowed eyes of a man and his exasperated expression.

There’s the beginning of a growl, heavy with an accented voice, “Now who in the hell is—!”

A strong jaw goes slack, brunette stubble stilling. Blue eyes like cobalt instantly peel back to show the whites, words strangled away in a sharp inhale.

The man is in his late twenties, stocky, and clothed in a loose sleep shirt made of thin linen with black pants. His shoulders were near large enough to knock on the frame of the door as he stood in it, built with the strength of a boar and then some. His large, lightly-tanned hand on the door slackens as his eyes speedily dart down your disoriented form. Biceps the size of your skull.

Heart hammering, you stare for a moment longer, rain pelting your back and looking like a wet dog. It’s as if you’ve forgotten to speak beyond gasps for air, but your eyes implore enough for you. The stranger recovers from his surprise at seeing such a beautiful lone woman at his door with a clearing of his throat.

“...Christ, Dearie, you’re soakin’ wet out here.” He shoulders the door open wider without another question. “Inside, now, quickly.”

You wrap your arms around your waist and speed into the shelter of the home, water dripping down to the wood as you shiver and your teeth clatter. Not for a second did you think if this might be safe or not, too scared of the riders and their hounds than anything. You wouldn’t allow them to drag you back to your husband-to-be. Not in a million years.

Your voice is hiccuping as you speak.

“I…I don’t mean to i-intrude, I’m very sorry, Sir.” The man looks around his home before he spots a large bear fur by the messy bed in the corner—he rushes over and grabs it. “I ask forgiveness for w-waking you at such an hour.”

“Jesus, is that what you’re worried about?” Blue eyes crease at you as the heavy fur over your shoulders; your hands snap to catch it, the entire thing swallowing you as gaze up in confusion. The man frowns, staring back as water drips from your nose. “Let’s just focus on gettin’ you dry, yeah? You’ll catch your death like this, Little Lady.”

A wide hand presses to the expanse of your spine, prodding you forward as you squeak at the sudden contact. You’re guided to a small chair in front of the hearth, plopped down and the sides of the fur are hiked up to your neck quickly.

The stranger kneels down in front of you, focused, and his tired eyes alight with worry. He makes sure the fur isn’t going to fall as he blinks over the state of your hands. He pauses, his large grip stalling at the sight of spreading blood.

Your wound—you’d almost forgotten.

“Now what’s this, then?” The brunette's words are quiet, very in-tune with your state as you try to catch your breath and shiver. It was like coaxing a wild animal.

Blinking, you shift your hand farther under the bear's fur, bringing it to your chest.

“I won’t be here long, Sir. I promise,” you try to change the topic, but quickly jerk your nose into the crook of your arm as you sneeze, bending over slightly as mud and blood stain your skin.

Lips tighten along a square face.

“It’s Johnny, Miss.” The world outside rages on, blocked out by the four walls of this nicely sized home of wooden logs and boards. It was well-made with pine and cider, the large hearth in the back wall with inlets near the shuddered windows and various crudely carved pieces of art.

Weapon displays lined the walls, various makes and models hung on pegs. Axes and swords, spears with red-leather shafts set next to halberds of black steel. You blink at them in slight concern, not used to being around weapons.

Johnny, as he calls himself, sees this and quickly explains as he rubs at the back of his head, eyes crinkling.

“Ah, Johnny MacTavish, the blacksmith, that is,” a small, rough chuckle echos out.

You ease at that.

“Mr. MacTavish,” you give your name and offer a kind, yet still anxious, smile. “I give my thanks for allowing me shelter. A-and the fur.”

His gaze slips down to your hidden hand once more, face swirling with an unidentified emotion before studying your torn wedding gown.

“Well, I’m not one to leave a person out on my doorstep in weather like this. Certainly not a Lady.” His brow raises, head tilting. “You going to let me clean that wound a’yours or am I going to have to fish it out myself?”

Your body tenses slowly, bare feet shuffling over the floor. Staring at Johnny, you gaze at the strangely cut hair atop his head and the messy strands that speak to a night of shifting on his bed. His face is honest and open to you, blinking in soft question as his head angles to the side with an easy twitch of his lips.

“It’s really not necessary,” you try to chuckle but it falls flat, eyes red and heart still speeding.

Johnny sighs and glances at the fire, blinking before he shifts to grab another log and toss it in with no concern for the heat of the flame that lap at his fingers. You watch his muscles bunch under his shirt and quickly look at your lap.

“I’m not the greatest doctor out there, Dearie, but I can do good with washin’ out a cut an’ wrapping it.” You study him and nervously tighten your lips. Johnny’s face seems to soften, hands going up and wrists tilting as his knee stays connected to the floor; firelight on his face. A small smile blooms. “C’mon, I’m not that scary of a bastard, am I?”

You spare a tiny chuckle, shoulders jumping as rainwater slips down your chin. Your shivering was still going on, and would until you got a change of clothes, but the warmth from the fire was helping tremendously. Already feeling was returning to your limbs.

“Ah,” the blacksmith huffs a laugh, “there’s a smile. Now, let's have a little look-see shall we?”

Under the fur, your hand lightly shifts, coming back into view, slit palm and all. Johnny’s eyes darken, face going serious behind his stubble. Brown brows turn in.

“Now where in the hell did you get a—” Just as his gigantic hands were about to circle around yours, there was a violent knock at the door.

You shoot up in an instant, jerking away from the blacksmith as he snaps his head to the front, eyes lighting. He stands up slowly as you back up a few paces, eyes frantically darting back and forth. The knocking starts up again and thunder peels from outside.

Your form flinches.

“You can’t let them take me back,” you say quickly, breathing catching up in speed again. Fear burns your lungs and suddenly you’re ten times colder than before. “Mr. MacTavish, please, I can’t go back.”

Another round of knocking shakes the barrier. Blues eyes stare at you blankly, half-turned face pulled in visible confusion as Johnny’s jaw clenches.

A voice echoes from under the door as the blacksmith once more lets his eyes linger down your battered frame; taking in cuts and the limp you carry. Muddy feet and water stained red. His hands twitch at his sides.

“These are the guards of Lord Wilkin, would anyone in this home come to make him or herself known? It is of the utmost urgency!” You grow more fearful, head darting to find any other exit in this home but you land on nothing besides the windows. Your fingers shake with panic.

No, no, no.

Confusion gives way to deep concern.

A hand grasps your upper arm and you’re being hurried to the corner wall by the front door with fast feet and a firm, iron, grip. An accented voice mumbles quietly by your ear, “Keep quiet for me, Dearie. It’s alright, you let me take care of it.”

He stands you there and takes one last look at you, blinking, before grabbing the bear fur and pulling it above your head in a swift motion. There’s a quiet chuckle as you tense and slam a hand up to the brown material instinctually before Johnny darts around the corner and opens the door. You hold your breath and listen.

“Well, steamin’ Jesus, you bastards have any idea what time it is?! And in this damning weather, you show up at my door reamin’ on the wood like you’re the one who has to keep it anchored to the frame.” There’s a fast conversation of apologies and explanations that you can't catch above the yell of the rain.

“Does it look like I give a shite about a lost bride? Not my fuckin’ place to keep ‘er…I’ve seen nothing besides you…anyone out in this storm is as good as lost…” You listen and stay completely still, holding your breath as if it’s a prisoner in your lungs.

You can hardly believe it. Why was this man…lying for you? A wounded stranger that had shown up at his doorstep in nothing but a tattered gown and babbling through tears. Anyone else would have turned you over—especially to your betrothed, Lord Wilkin. He owned these lands and held fiefs by all who lived here. Not a man to mess with, if your slit palm was anything to go by.

“Go on!” Johnny calls loudly, and the door closes a second later, the latch locking. There’s a moment of nothing, before the clearing of a throat and a soft call. “Well, they won’t be back, least.”

He pops around the corner and smiles comfortingly.

“Sorry about the yellin'.” You part your lips in innocent awe and you take a deep breath before speaking slowly.

“Why would you do that?” His expression tightens, crossing his arms over his chest. Under him, his large hips shift.

“Ya asked, didn’t you?” Your blank expression only serves to make him chuckle heartily, head shaking. Johnny hums, “I won’t press you about it all tonight, though I well should. You’re in no shape for it.” Cobalt eyes glance at the food before looking back up. “But I’m guessin’ you have a good enough reason to sneak off as I hear you did.”

The very blood in your body heats with warmth.

You’re waved back over to the chair by the hearth. “Let’s get that injury looked at and I‘ll get you a change of clothes. You can take my place for the night,” eyes twinkle, “there’s no bed bugs in it, Dearie, knight’s honor.”

“What about iron shavings?” You call back softly, lips jerking up momentarily. The man’s actions had given you a large amount of trust in him. Johnny blinks in surprise at your joke, but a large grin grows moments later as you walk over delicately.

“Can’t say for certain, but I promise there’ll be no weapons under the covers. If anyone breaks in they’ll find my fists to be the first iron they get a touch of.”

Your laugh bounces off the walls, hand coming up to cover your mouth in the picture of a cultured upbringing. Johnny chuckles in turn, looking smug. He liked your laugh, it seems.

“That was detestable, Mr. MacTavish.” You sit down, and Johnny kneels where he had been before—his hand outstretched where you carefully place your wounded limb.

Immediately you feel the scrape of old burns and calluses, hands hardened by long hours of labor and intensive demands. You’re certain these are the hardest hands that have ever touched your skin, but it astounds you by how gently you’re being caressed and turned. People with far fairer flesh have never handled you like this. As if you would break apart with the barest of pressures.

Your breath stills as the blacksmith, with all the care of a butterfly, tilts your cut into the light and studies it, thumb absentmindedly brushing up and down your wrist. You hold back a shiver.

“Ah,” he grumbles, still smiling yet more focused on your injury now. “It wasn’t that bad.”

You hum under your breath and try not to flinch when he wipes away a stain of mud near your wound. The blacksmith grunts to himself, gentle pressure at your flesh like the scuff of tree bark. But it wasn’t unpleasant. No, you thought, not at all.

The two of you fall into a hole of soft silence, Johnny leaving for a moment to grab a bucket of water and bandages, saying in a mutter that he had plenty of the former to go around.

“Have a habit of burnin’ myself on my bad days, y’see,” he shimmies past, pausing before pulling back up the bear fur from where it had slightly slipped down your neck. “Comes with the job.”

Your face burns as he grabs what he needs, eyes stuck on your lap. You were astounded by the man’s ability to put away his obvious confusion for your care, how he was content to wait for answers until you were rested. It was honorable of him.

Thinking back to Lord Wilkin’s guards at the door, your thighs shift over the chair. They’d be looking for you until they found you—be that days or months, it didn’t matter. The Lord wasn’t someone to let what he wanted get away from him. Like senseless beasts, your family would undoubtedly help. Your chest is stiff with worry. How would you get away with this?

The scene you’d made at the wedding wasn’t exactly subtle.

Johnny comes back carrying a small bucket of fresh water, ladled from the wash basin, and a bundle of clean white cloth.

“Alright,” he huffs, “let’s get this sorted, eh, Dearie?” The wound was very obviously a slice from a knife, anyone could see it.

Johnny takes your hand once more and holds it in his palm, glancing up at you before dipping one of the cloths into the water and beginning to clean the cut.

“Is it…bad, Mr. MacTavish?” You ask, worried about the likelihood of scarring. That would be the last thing you would want. The blacksmith looks up from where he pats the edges, the fabric already going red.

“Just Johnny, if it pleases you,” he smiles, hulking form seemingly all a facade to hide a cheeky and loyal Scot. “And…no, not bad. If you’re worried about a mark, don’t be—it’s deep but only at the beginning. A slight discoloration, no more.” His brows pull back, teasing, “You’ll not end up like me, at any rate.” Your shoulders ease back, and you let him work with a thankful comment and a giggle.

You watch and take in the way his jaw clenches and loosens as he works, completely focused as if he was fashioning an axe and not helping a complete stranger.

“There’s no harm in scars,” you settle on saying, thinking over his last comment. Blues lock with your eyes, head tilting like a hound. Your face gains a slight heat to it and you stutter, “It’s just this one I’d rather not carry, Johnny.” Smiling warmly, you see the man’s lips part, his motions stalling for a moment as he looks up at you and blinks. “But yours suit you if…I’m allowed to say.”

It’s then that you realize that a slight flush has come to his cheeks, starting from under his stubble and leaking out to his cheeks like a red blaze—his gaze burrows deep with hidden fire that rivals the dancing shadows from the hearth.

Noticing, your own face burns all the hotter as the blacksmith quickly clears his throat, snapping his eyes away. Fingers once more cleaning your cut, he grunts out, neck now shifting to a blush of crimson, “...Thank you, Miss.”

You stay in silence for the rest of the delicate process; the air heated and rolling with something. Electricity sparks when Johnny’s hands rub across yours, large enough to break you in an instant but acting like moss over a stone. You find yourself falling into a sort of comforted state you hadn’t felt in a long time—the fur over your shoulders and the tingle of skin-on-skin contact that expects nothing but offers all.

“There,” Johnny says at last, and a part of you wants to cry when he pulls back, standing slowly. A firm but malleable wrapping is over your palm, a tiny knot tied in the middle to keep it from falling off.

You bring it to your abdomen and blink, the other hand going to run over the material.

“Thank you, Johnny. Truly. If I hadn’t found your homestead, I would have been lost.” The man rubs at the back of his neck, tunic bunched up by his elbows.

“Gah,” after a second of bruising off the comment, he waves a hand while his wide chest puffs with pride. “It’s no trouble, really. Keeps me on my toes.”

Outside the storm continues to beat the walls, and the blacksmith can’t help but feel his eyes drawn to your dwarfed form under the large fur, the dripping water, and the weight of your gown. Based on the information from the guard, he had a decent story already forming in his head.

A runaway bride and an angry Lord. By his own role as the fiefdom’s accomplished blacksmith, he should be turning you over. But your eyes had been flooded with tears when you’d pounded on his door; soaked in rain and mud—blood. No shoes. Freezing.

You had looked so afraid, his heart had hurt for you, a strong need to shelter you stuck like a knife into his ribs. Johnny had seen much in his life, war, and death, but your desperation had stuck a cord in him.

He’d keep you here with no charge, offer food and shelter, and do what he can to understand your situation. If not for simply hospitality sake, then because he had heard your laugh and had found it to be like a bird’s call in the wake of a dew-coated morning. Your soft skin like the wisps of fire from his forges. Your voice like a rippling spring. There was no way to describe the way he wanted to help besides to admit to himself that he was a good man.

And, while cocky, the blacksmith had never once been self-absorbed.

He watches you rub at your damp cheek and starts out of whatever trance he had been sucked into.

“I’ll…” Johnny rubs at his neck again, “I’ll get you that change of clothes, Bonnie. You just wait right here.”

You stare at his back as he strides over, the fatigue washing back over you now that the adrenaline leaves in its stupendous sweep of heavy heartbeats. Anyone else would have given you up. Your face softens, seeing the quick dig of hands into the stack of clothes in the dresser.

“Fuckin’ hell,” the man huffs, looking over his shoulder and shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Dearie, all I’ve got are my tunics and pants.” Black and pale cream linen is held up on display.

“Oh,” you mutter, “I don’t mind,” your chuckle makes his lips twitch with care. “I would just prefer to be out of this…thing.” Your eyes glare down at the tattered gown, breathing softly. “Anything is perfect.”

“Well, then I hope you don’t mind the smell of fire,” Johnny hums. “Here you are.” As much as his insides twist to understand the story, making sure you don’t run a cold was more important.

Your legs push you up and you walk over softly, gliding over the wooden floor to take up the articles and dig your fingers into the warm and easy texture, thin stitching, and cuffed wrists. There was a cut down the neck with a tied cord looped through, making up an ‘x’ pattern.

“I would say thank you again,” you begin, “but I think you’ll be getting annoyed with how many times I’ve already said it.”

Johnny laughs, crossing his arms over his chest and setting his feet.

“Ah, perhaps only a little.” Silence laps into a minute, and you study him with slow puzzlement, tilting your head. For a moment, the man wonders what he’s done. The blacksmith’s dark brows furrow, lips moving back. He looks down at the clothes again and starts with a wild blinking of his lids.

“Oh! Hell’s bells, right,” Johnny walks to the other side of the room and swiftly turns his back to you with respect and a burning neck. He cringes. “Christ.”

You laugh brightly, letting the fur fall to the floor as you undress and shimmy into the borrowed clothes. Your nose takes in the scents of metal and fire—fatty linseed oil used to protect a blade against corrosion. With the crackling fire, you slip the large tunic above your head and find that it falls heavily over you; far thicker than it seemed and very comfortable, ending at your lower thigh.

But those scents make your head spin, rolling up the cuffs as you bring your nose to the collar and once more take it in with a slow breath. You hum and move, throwing the bear fur back atop your shoulders and grabbing your ruined garments from the floor before calling out to the rod-straight figure.

“Johnny?” His arms lightly jerk, as if he’d been unfocused, but he doesn’t turn around. “Where would you like me to throw these?”

The blacksmith delicately tilts his head to the side and utters with his eyes stuck to the side wall. “Bin by the door is just fine.” You look to the container holding scraps and other garbage to be taken out and drop the gown in before rubbing your cheek.

Wide cobalt eyes stare at the clothes you wear heavily, jaw loose before he re-set it and averts his gaze. Johnny chuckles to ease himself and loops his thumbs into his waistband, embarrassed.

“Do you need anything else, then?” Your eyes blink with fatigue.

“No, I…I don’t think so.” Gazing at the home, your lips thin. Your family would have a heart attack if you even mentioned that you were staying the night at a complete stranger’s homestead. No protection, no way to beat off a blacksmith beyond a well-placed punch, and running from your betrothed. To say that you’d cause anything less than a heart attack would be generous. But Johnny felt different. Firmer in his emotions and intentions. Far more than the Lord.

That was really all that matted.

“Are you really sure this is okay,” you still ask hesitantly, gargantuan clothes atop your frame. Johnny is already nodding firmly.

“It’s my pleasure. I won’t be turnin’ you back out to the woods in a storm like this.” For whatever reason, the next words fall from his lips like an oath. “There’ll be no harm comin’ to ya as long as you stay under my roof.”

Your hand burns with the memory of his gentle grip and your heart skips beats. You feel as if a great weight is lifted, even if only for a night.

“Alright,” your words barely make it to air, and you grip the bear fur harder to stop yourself from kissing this man’s cheek, wanting to take him into a tight hug.

Johnny takes a blanket from the bottom of his bed and shuffles over to the inlet below the shuddered window, sitting down while you slowly walk forward.

“But, Little Lady,” you rest on the edge of the bed and look up to find him watching you intently, leaning back with a hand behind his head and the other on his stomach. The fire still crackles, the storm still dances outside, and the room is still tight with something you can’t put a name to. Like you’re caught in a trap of soft pillows and the scent of metal, you listen to the blacksmith with bated breath. “I’ll be needin’ answers…you hear?”

Licking your lips, you nod tersely. “Tomorrow,” you agree.

Johnny gazes off into your eyes, the runaway bride that had shown up on his doorstep and captured his attention like a bird made of a white wedding gown and panicked breath. He sneaks a peek down at your wrapped hand as you settle on his bed, burrowing into his furs and his covers—wearing his clothes.

For some unknown reason, the smallest of blood stains makes his chest roll with bright anger.

“Tomorrow,” he grunts through a tight jaw before he fights to turn his head away from you. It’s a long while before he sees any type of sleep, listening to the sound of your soft breath and the crackle of the fire.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

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sanjisleggy · 26 days ago

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beautiful things (roronoa zoro x reader) [pt2/2]

a/n: the way Ace has me gripped by the BALLS is insane i have woken up every day the past two(?) weeks thinking about him send help anyway here’s part 2 of the zoro fic i wrote last week. also if you;re reading this, this is a plea for Ace requests ty

contents: hurt/comfort, fluff!!, making up, zoro tries his best :’)

wc. 2.3k

wanna be on my taglist?

part 1

you know Zoro loves you.

you can tell from the way he’s always watching over you, even when you’ve been avoiding him for most of the past week. he keeps an eye on you during meals when you’re seated far away and not in your usual spot beside him, always ready to pass the salt or the whatever it is you need even before you ask for it.

you can tell he loves you from the way he checks up on you every night when you’re sleeping in Nami and Robin’s room instead of the one you share with him. Zoro never questions why you haven’t been sleeping beside him–he already knows the answer–instead, he takes a quick peek into the room you’re in and leaves once he spots your peacefully sleeping form draped across Nami. some nights, he does it multiple times, as if he’s unable to sleep and checking on you is the only thing he wants to do in his waking hours.

you can tell Zoro loves you from how Robin tells you he’s been asking the other Straw Hats what he should do to make it up to you. while having tea with her in the Sunny’s aquarium on a particularly cold day on the seas, you ask her how he’s been and she says he’s been resting, without needing Chopper to even breathe down his neck.

“he’s been asking everyone what he should do,” she says, taking a sip.

“do what?” you ask, tilting your head.

“he wants to apologise to you but doesn’t know how.” you can’t help but smile at the thought of Zoro overthinking such a simple matter–though, matters of the heart never seem to be simple to a man like him.

“he could just say sorry,” you think aloud with a shrug and Robin laughs lightly.

“i think you’re too special to him for that.”

ii.

it’s been a little over a week since your perilous experience on Thriller Bark and you find yourselves docked at a new island. it’s fairly small compared to the other places you’ve been to but since it’ll take a few days for the log pose to set, everyone splits up to kill time in their own way.

Zoro heads straight to town with Nami accompanying him so he doesn’t get lost (and also because she has berry). holding a small piece of paper in his hands, he frowns down at it, prompting the navigator to ask what’s up.

“‘m just not sure if i can find everything i need here,” the swordsman replies with a deep sigh, missing the way Nami smiles at him. as tempted as she is to make fun of him for being broke and–possibly in the near future–single, she bites her tongue, knowing Zoro’s putting a whole lot of effort into his apology. she’ll be nice to him, for you.

“don’t worry about it so much, what could possibly be so hard to find anyway?”

Sanji felt Zoro’s stare burning into the back of his head for nearly five whole, silent minutes before the shitty swordsman finally decided to speak up.

“hey… i need your help.”

well. that certainly was not what Sanji thought he was gonna say but the chef would be lying if he said he was totally surprised.

almost everyone in the crew heard firsthand what Zoro said to you several days ago. the commotion inside the infirmary had drawn everyone to linger outside nearby in case an intervention was needed and it ended up backfiring in the worst way possible. you’d walked out of the infirmary in tears and cried even harder once you realised all your friends were looking at you after hearing what should have been a private moment.

Sanji nearly offered to kick his ass upon seeing your distraught face but stopped himself when he remembered the sight that greeted him once he’d woken up after encountering Kuma. as much as he wanted to avenge your feelings, he knew Zoro was going through a lot, too.

“the shitty co– i mean, Sanji told me to get ‘em roses because ‘it’s romantic’,” he said with a scoff, as if physically incapable of talking about the blond chef without insulting him. “but i know (Y/N)’s favourite flowers are daffodils. i just don’t know if this island has them or not.”

the next person he approached was Nami, who was much less courteous than her previous counterpart. upon seeing his face, she’d started tearing into him immediately, stopping only when she noticed he was just letting himself take all of it.

“not gonna fight back?” she scoffed, unable to push away the anger she felt on your behalf.

“why would i fight back if you’re right?” he replied, his jaw clenched. “i know i fucked up. that’s why i came here for help.”

“you told me to get her a gift, like a necklace or something,” Zoro continues talking without missing a beat as the two weave through the crowded shopping street. “(Y/N) doesn’t like necklaces, though, they make her neck feel itchy, so i thought i’d get a bracelet instead.” even though he’s finished his sentence, Nami can’t help but notice how he looks like he has more to say.

“you’re broke, aren’t you?”

he nods, looking almost like a child being scolded by his mother.

“fine, i’ll pay for it this time. only because it’s for (Y/N).” Nami keeps it to herself, but she’s impressed he remembers such specific details. if only he could do the same with directions, she sighs.

he never intended to ask Luffy for relationship advice but his captain, with his weirdly high emotional intelligence, sniffed out Zoro’s distress without even realising it. he was one of the few who didn’t catch the argument so he wasn’t really sure why his first mate and chronicler weren’t seen together as much as usual but he knew something was up and wanted to help.

“i think you should buy her meat. lots of it. just all the meat the island has to offer.” Luffy nearly started drooling as he spoke and Zoro wasn’t sure if he even remembered what the conversation was about at that point.

the whole meat thing was useless but the conversation did spark an idea in him.

“there’s this candy that (Y/N) talks about a lot, it’s her favourite,” Zoro says with a smile, unable to help remembering all the times you yapped on and on about how it’s the best thing ever from your childhood and how you hope one day he gets to try it. he’s not a fan of sweets but if you love it, he knows he will, too.

“that’s gonna be the hardest thing to find here, i think,” Nami says exactly what Zoro’s been most concerned about. “but i think if we try hard enough, we can probably find it.” she gives him an encouraging look. “c’mon, i’ll help you look.”

iii.

you only see Zoro again when the sun has set and everyone slowly starts gathering in the dining room for dinner. you’re not sure if they’re just trying to be funny or if they’re actually this bad at subtlety because your beloved crewmates don’t even try to hide how they’re leaving the last available seat next to you. Chopper’s even draped across two chairs for no reason aside from “i just feel like lying down today”. you don’t point it out, though, having reflected on your role in the argument after your conversation with Robin, you no longer feel the need to be petty.

with an awkwardness only two complete strangers could possess, your boyfriend slowly takes a seat right beside you. to Zoro’s surprise, you turn to look at him for a second–so starved for your attention, he nearly feels his heart stop–before asking, “you okay?” your eyes flicker down to the fresh set of bandages wrapped around his upper body.

“yeah, i’m good.” Zoro coughs and looks away, inadvertently making eye-contact with Nami. she frowns at him and mouths "don't be a loser!” turning back to you, he feels his heart drop when he realises you’re talking to Sanji about something else now. not wanting to draw too much attention to himself, the swordsman tugs gently at the hem of your shirt.

almost instantaneously, you look back at him, a hint of a smile on your face. “what’s up?” you ask, reaching your own hand over to rest it over his before rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

swallowing thickly, Zoro murmurs, just loud enough for only you to hear, “can you meet me in our room after dinner? i have something to show you.” his face is burning red and you swear you can feel his calloused hand start to tremble ever so slightly.

the last person he ended up approaching for help was Chopper. it wasn’t planned since he’s just a little reindeer but Zoro thought it wouldn’t hurt asking him for his opinion, especially since redressing his wounds always took a bit of time and the silence sometimes got a little awkward.

“hmm…” the doctor hummed thoughtfully as he opened a new pack of bandages. “wouldn’t the best thing be to just do what she wanted you to? i mean, you guys fought because she didn’t want you to train while still injured, right?” Chopper sniffled a little but held it together. it wasn’t a secret that he felt a little responsible for your falling out since he was the one who asked you for help in getting Zoro to rest that fateful day.

“i think i might have an idea.”

“here,” Zoro says as he hands you a neatly folded piece of paper. there’s an obvious lump on your bed under the blanket but you opt to ignore it for now. in the distance, you can hear the clanking of utensils and muffled chatter as your crewmates carry on with dessert without the both of you.

unfolding the paper, the first thing that catches your eye is a large stamp of what looks like a hoof at the very bottom.

this note is to verify that Roronoa Zoro has locked all his training equipment and swords in the crow’s nest and that the sole key is in the possession of Tony Tony Chopper. if in any case Roronoa Zoro tries to exercise before he is cleared to do so by Tony Tony Chopper, the latter reserves the right to throw the key into the ocean. signed, Roronoa Zoro & Tony Tony Chopper

the laugh bursts out of your mouth before you can help yourself and for a full minute that’s all you do as the silliness of it all tickles at your heart. too preoccupied, you fail to notice how Zoro’s eyes soften as he watches you in silence. seeing the familiar smile on your face, after more than a week of being deprived of your voice and warmth, soothes his nerves in a way he should frankly find alarming. no one person should hold this much power over him and yet he wilfully leaves his entire heart in your possession to keep safe or to break.

folding back the extremely precious document in your hands before slipping it into your pocket, you return your attention to the man standing in front of you, his physical size a stark contrast to the shy smile on his flushed face.

“i got you some stuff, too–” before Zoro can turn away to bring out the gifts, you lunge towards him and lock your arms around his neck. he’s quick to return the embrace, instantly nuzzling his face into the junction between your neck and shoulder as he holds you close.

“i’m so sorry, (Y/N),” he mutters into your skin, brushing his lips against your jaw as his warm breath brushes past your ear, “i didn’t mean what i said. i was pissed at myself and took it out on you.” Zoro hears you draw in a shuddering breath and his fingers curl around the fabric of the back of your shirt instinctively. “i’m sorry. you’re never a burden and… i-i want to be the one who protects you for the rest of our lives, so please,” your boyfriend pleads as he presses a kiss to your neck, “keep fussing over me and taking care of me. i’ll listen to everything you say.”

for a while, you remain silent, basking in the warmth of his embrace as you think about what he’d just said. you feel almost breathless from how rapidly your heart pounds in your chest and you briefly wonder if Zoro feels it, too. mistaking your silence for hesitation, the swordsman presses his lips against your neck and jawline a few more times as he runs his hands up and down your back.

“i love you,” Zoro mutters as he shuts his eyes and leans his temple against yours, wondering if this will be the last time he gets to touch you like this. “whatever you choose to do with me, i’ll always love you.”

“i love you, too,” you sniffle, finding yourself suddenly tearing up as you’re caught completely off-guard by his words. “i didn’t know you could be so cheesy,” you add with a soft laugh, only to feel his fingers brush against a particularly ticklish part of your body. you try to wriggle away but even an injured-Zoro is much too strong for you to break free from.

“don’t make fun of me, brat,” your lover replies, his own lips tugging into a smile as he keeps you locked in place and unable to escape from his wandering hands. “this is what i get for pouring my heart out to you, huh?”

“no, you get this,” you giggle before pulling your head away just enough to kiss all over his face. shutting his eyes, Zoro basks in the feeling of your brushing against all parts of his face as his heart nearly bursts from the overwhelming affection; and he can’t help but wonder what he’d done in his life to deserve such a beautiful thing.

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui @paraparakiss @krooschl @teewon @olliesoxenfree @misstraffy @riftmage27 @aletch

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x yn #one piece x you #op #op x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #imagine #fanfic #fluff #hurt/comfort

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ripdragonbeans · 7 months ago

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You Win II // modern!Aemond x reader

Summary: You and Aemond have fallen in love, steady in a relationship built of trust and love. All that is challenged when Aemond takes a class led by Professor Rivers.

TW: indefinitely, manipulation, p in v, afab reader, violence, Aemond is an idiot

Part I • Epilogue

Empty. Completely empty.

Numb. You felt nothing

Cold. There was no warmth in your life anymore.

That's all you were when you left your - his - apartment. The towel that staunched the bleeding was drying up, becoming stiff. It's been hours since you left but you didn't have the energy to even pull it off your knuckle. That, and you wouldn't know what to do if it started bleeding again. Taking the train, you went to the one person who you knew would welcome you without a doubt.

Jace Velaryon.

You lied when you said you were going home. You didn't have a home to go to anymore because he was your home.

When you arrived at his apartment, you immediately started pounding on the door. Tears were streaming down your face again, new tears. They were hot against your skin and flowed freely.

Jace answered the door. “I don’t know who you are but I don’t need any - oh shit!”

You fell into Jace as soon as he opened the door and sobbed openly into his arms.

“Hey, what happened? Why isn’t Aemond with you?”

At the mention of his name you sobbed even harder. You balled your fists into Jace’s shirt, not wanting to let him go.

“Fuck, okay. Let’s get you inside. I’ll call Hel.”

As Jace led you into the apartment you tried to calm yourself but it was difficult, nearly impossible. All of the different visions Alys had planted in your head kept playing on one after the other. The more you looked into the past the more you could see the warning signs that something was up. The way he touched you, looked at you, the small things. How lately he would recoil from your touch, or look guilty when he said he loved you. It all added up and you hated that you couldn’t see it. Instead, you got hurt. You could’ve protected yourself, your heart, but instead you gave it to someone else.

You sat on the couch clutching your things. Well, all that you could carry out of his apartment. Fog was clouding your vision and your chest was heavy. All you wanted to do was fall in a deep sleep and never wake up again. You curled up around a pillow and buried your head in it. Hugging the pillow helped a bit but it wasn’t enough.

“Hel, something happened to her,” you heard Jace call Helaena from the kitchen. “She came to my apartment sobbing her eyes out and when I mentioned Aemond she cried even harder. I think… I think they broke up, Hel.” He paused so Helaena could respond. “No, I don’t know what happened but whatever it was was bad. Her hand is wrapped in a towel and there’s dried blood on it. Fuck, just come over, please? Okay, see you soon.”

Jace came out of the kitchen and sat next to you on the couch. “Hey, Hel is on her way. Want to tell me what’s going on or -”

You aggressively shook your head as you shut your eyes to keep even more tears from flowing out.

“Okay, we can wait for Hel.”

Jace wrapped you in a hug and you melted into him. You inhaled his cologne, a familiar smell, and it calmed you, even just a tiny bit. After a moment you pulled away from him.

“I punched a mirror,” you rasped. “I was feeling too much and I hated what I saw so I just. I -” you broke down in sobs again.

“As long as you’re safe and it wasn’t anyone else who physically hurt you, it’s okay.”

You nodded and let yourself sink into the couch. For a few minutes it was just you and Jace in a sad silence. He wanted to comfort you but didn’t know how to. You wanted to tell him everything that happened but you wanted to wait for Helaena so you wouldn’t have to relive it twice out loud. You’ve already re-lived it many times over in your head. Everything was so clear, so crisp and clear. In your mind’s eye Alys was giving you that evil smirk while her hand was on Aemond’s shoulder. The image wouldn’t leave your mind. She touched him like she owned him.

“No one physically hurt me but fuck, my heart hurts so much.” You leaned your head on Jace’s shoulder.

Jace nodded. You fell into a silence, a sad silence. The door unlocked.

“Hey, I'm here.” Helaena looked at you and your tear stained face. “Holy shit, what's happened to you?” She was quick to move to you and pull you into a hug.

With Helaena hugging you came a new wave of tears. While she was his sister, you were glad that she didn't remind you of him. You held on tight to her and tried to calm down your breathing.

“There we go, easy breaths,” she encouraged you.

When you finally caught your breath you glanced at both of your friends before putting your head down. “He cheated on me.”

Their eyes were wide with disbelief.

“No way,” Helaena whispered.

“I'm gonna fucking kill him,” Jace growled.

You let out a broken laugh. “Please don't kill him, Jace.”

“No, I'm serious. What was he thinking?”

“It was Professor Rivers.”

“Of course it was her.” Helaena’s eyes were hard. “I've heard so many things about her. I didn't think she'd go after Aemond.”

You scoffed. “Well she did and she was successful.” You lowered your head. “She said that he loved her,” your voice cracked on the last word.

“I don't believe that at all.”

“You should have seen him, Hel. He was fucking her! He looked so guilty that he was caught.”

“He fucked her?!”

“Yes!” You started sobbing again. “It was some kind of cruel plan the professor came up with. She requested me in her office while he was with her so I could see them.”

Jace and Helaena were silent.

“Okay, now that's messed up,” said Jace.

“I bet she gets off on breaking up couples,” Helaena said matter-of-factly.

Jace looked at Helaena. “I'm sorry, what?”

“Haven't you heard the rumors? She has a history of breaking up couples.”

“That's demented.”

As Jace and Helaena talked about how cruel Alys was to her students outside their academic life, all you could think about was him. You still refused to say his name out loud. Saying his name would be admitting that he was real. For once, you wished your relationship was fake, a figment of your imagination. If you could convince yourself it never happened then you never got hurt.

A delusional smile crossed your face. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine. What are we even talking about? I don't know any Professor Rivers,” you laughed.

Helaena and Jace shared a concerned look.

“I've never heard of her.”

“Sweetie, she's a professor at your university. You know this very well,” Helaena said gently. “Are you okay?”

You started laughing maniacally. “Of course I'm okay! Why wouldn't I be? And again, I don’t know any Professor Rivers. That name means nothing to me. Nothing.” You reached for Jace’s hand and squeezed it as tight as you could.

“Damn, you have a strong grip. Can you loosen up or let me go?” Jace tried to wiggle his hand out of yours.

“I have never given my heart to anyone. I have never been hurt. I am completely fine. My heart is whole and safe. I have never fallen in love. No one has shattered me. Nothing bad ever happened, I’m just having a bad dream or something. But I’m fine. Fine and happy. I'm happy.”

“Oh, my dear,” Helaena tugged your hand off of Jace’s and took it in hers instead. “You're not okay and that's okay. But it happened, you can't pretend it didn't happen. It's not healthy.”

Your smile dissipated as you cocked your head to the side. “Nothing happened, Helaena. I am fine. I've never dated anyone.” You shook your head. “Please, I don't want it to be real,” you whispered. Trembling, you pulled your hands away from Helaena and wrapped them around yourself. Rocking back and forth you began to mumble, “It didn't happen. I'm okay. It didn't happen.” Your eyes became unfocused until everything around you was blurry. You didn't even try to correct it.

“Let's go to the spare room. You can stay here as long as you need,” Jace said as he gathered your things.

“Come on, sweetie. Let's get you up,” Helaena tried to get you to stand but you sat rooted on the spot.

Tucking your chin in and wrapping your arms around you even tighter, you closed your eyes and refused to open them. “I'm fine right here.”

“Okay, you can stay here but Jace is going to take your things to the spare room.”

Jace left with your belongings and brought them to the bedroom, the place you'll be living in for the next unforeseeable days. Helaena stayed next to you, refusing for you to be left alone.

“Do you want me to stay the night? I don't want you to be alone.”

With eyes still shut you nodded your head. You agreed with her; you should not be left alone.

“Your room is set up.” Jace entered the living room. “Do you want to sleep there now or?”

“I think she's gonna sleep out here on the couch tonight, Jace.” Helaena turned to you. “Can you get up or do you want to stay here?”

“I can't move. My body won't let me,” you whispered.

“Yeah, she’ll sleep out here tonight, Jace. I'll sleep on the floor.”

“I have an air mattress, Hel. You're not gonna sleep on the floor.” Jace turned and left the room once again to get the air mattress and some extra pillows and a blanket.

“Lay down, sweetie. Close your eyes. You've had a rough day.”

Helaena’s voice calmed you. You did as she said and slowly unwound yourself and laid down on the couch. “Hel, I still love him. And I hate him for it.”

It was the last thing you said before falling into the sweet darkness of sleep.

Aemond was still sitting on the floor of your - his - bedroom. Clothes were strewn across the floor. His eye was red from crying; he hasn't stopped since you left. He went to the bathroom to clean up but stopped at the door. When he saw the shattered glass on the ground he whimpered. You did this. You did it because he caused you to feel so much pain that you needed to break something.

Fresh tears began pouring out. His heart was continually breaking. He tried to clean up the mess the best he could but it was hard to see with his one good eye blurry from the crying. Aemond had just picked up all the glass when his phone started ringing.

Without looking at who it was, he answered it, hoping it would be you.

“Princess, please, are you -”

“Princess? Well, that's a new name for me, baby,” the female voice said.

Anger rose inside of him. “How did you get my number, Professor Rivers?”

“‘Professor Rivers?’ Now, now, you know me better than that. In fact you know me extremely well.”

“You didn't answer my question.”

“Oh, no need to know.” He could hear her smile. “I just called to make sure you're okay. I know you're hurting but you know my arms are always open for you.”

“I'm done with you,” Aemond ground out.

“You say that but you know you'll come back to me. They always do.”

“You said you loved me.”

“Yes, and it's true. I love all my students.”

“You said I was the only one.”

“Yes, now that was a lie. Would you have chosen to be with me if you had known you were not the first?”

“I didn't choose you,” he spat out.

“That's not what I remember. If memory serves me correctly, I asked if you were sure you wanted this and you said yes.”

“You were straddling my lap with my cock in your hand!” Aemond’s heartbeat was racing, not at the memory, but at the anger towards this woman.

“And you still could’ve said no. But you didn't. Instead you said yes and the rest is history. And what a damn good history it was.”

“Delete this number and never come near me again.”

“I know you wish that could happen but you know better. I'll delete this number but I'll see you in class on Monday.” With a click the phone call ended.

Aemond let out a guttural scream and punched the already broken mirror. Once. Twice. Three times. Just like you. Tears streamed down his face as he stared at his bloody knuckle. It was another thing that reminded him of you. Opening and closing his hand, he let the blood run down. He stared at it, thinking of you and hoping you were okay.

He turned on the water and ran his hand under it then wrapped it up in some gauze. He wasn't rushing so he had time to actually look for some. Everything has slowed down for him.

After he cleaned up the rest of the glass he went to the couch in the living room. He sat there for a while but soon remembered the many times the two of you made love on it. Immediately getting up he paced, thinking of a place where he wouldn't be reminded of his sins.

“I'm not gonna hear the end of this,” he mumbled to himself. Not packing anything, he left the apartment and called an Uber for his brother, Aegon's, place.

When he got to Aegon’s front door he couldn't even bring himself to knock on the door. Instead he texted his brother to come and open the door.

“And what can I do for my little brother?” Aegon wore a grin.

Aemond took a deep breath. “I cheated on her, Aegon. I fucked up and I can't stand to be in our apartment.”

Aegon’s face dropped. “Shit, I wasn't expecting that. Get in here and tell me how you messed everything up.”

Aemond followed Aegon into the apartment and plopped himself on the couch. Without giving him a second glance, Aegon went to the fridge and grabbed two beers.

“Drink it,” he said as he handed him one. “If you're going to relive your mistakes you should have something to ease the pain.”

In one smooth motion, Aemond took it from Aegon, opened it, and began chugging it. He stopped halfway through the bottle.

“My professor seduced me,” he started off. “And I fucking fell for her. She has a history of getting with students and I thought I could never be one of them but I am, Aegon. I slept with my fucking professor and ruined the only true relationship I've ever had.”

Aegon ran a hand down his face. “Dude, that's bad. Like bad bad.”

“It was more than once, too,” Aemond admitted.

“I'm sorry, what?”

“I basically had a relationship with her. She'd tell me she loved me and I thought it was real even though I already had someone who loved me unconditionally. Fuck, she gave me her heart and I stomped on it the second I started talking to Professor Rivers.” Aemond put his face in his hands.

Aegon nodded his head. “Oh, her.”

“Do you know her?”

“Even I knew she was bad news. There's a reason other than my grades as to why I didn't take her class. She's hot though, I'll give you that.”

“That doesn't help, Aegon.”

Aegon shrugged. “Just saying,” he took a sip of his beer. “What are you gonna do to get her back?”

Aemond blinked. “‘Get her back?’ I don't deserve her!”

“Listen,” Aegon leaned forward. “I've seen you two together and I have never seen you so happy before. I don't know her well but it looked like she had eyes only for you. You gotta go back and get her. Or at least help her.”

“How can I help her when all I've done is cause her pain?” Aemond’s hands began to shake.

“Beg. Get on your knees. Anything to make her smile.”

“I think me dying would make her smile,” Aemond grumbled.

“There we go, that's it!” Aegon went over and clapped Aemond on the back. “While you try to regain your honor, I'm going to ruin that Professor Alys and her career.”

“No! Please don't do that!”

Aegon narrowed his eyes. “Don't tell me you actually have feelings for her.”

“She called me earlier. I don't know how but she got my number. She sounded so sure that I'd go back to her. But I don't! I mean, fuck, you can't. She'll know it was me somehow.”

“I’ll cover your ass, don't worry.” Aegon finished his beer. “Now, you can stay as long as you need to but I don't want you wallowing in self pity. It's annoying when you do that.”

“Thank you, brother.” Aemond went to clasp his arm but Aegon pulled him in for a hug.

“Go get her back.”

When you woke up the next day it took you a while to remember where you were. As you looked around the room, you saw Helaena on an air mattress. That was when it all came rushing back.

Aemond and Alys.

Punching the mirror.

Slapping Aemond.

Running away.

You hurriedly got up when you felt whatever was left in your stomach come up to the surface. Careful not to trip over Helaena, you made a beeline for the bathroom and emptied out your guts. It was the dry heaving that had you crying again. Between the retching and the memories, it all became too much again.

“Sweetie?” Came a sleepy voice. “Are you okay?”

You gagged on nothing in response.

“I'm coming in, hold up.”

The bathroom door creaked open and Helaena entered, hair messy from sleeping.

“Oh, my dear, you look horrible.”

You gave a dry laugh. “Thanks, Hel.” You gagged into the bowl again.

Helaena knelt by you and rubbed your back in soothing circles. “We’ll take it day by day. You can get through this, you're one of the strongest people I know.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, I feel so strong right now.” You hurled out nothing into the toilet bowl again. Your chest was beginning to hurt from all the heaving and still your heart was aching, too. “I don't know when this will stop,” you admitted. Sitting back on your haunches, you looked up at Helaena. “Do I forgive him? Do I ignore him? What do I do if he wants to be back in my life?”

“Then you'll have a decision to make. Open your heart once again to the guy who shattered and trust that he won't do it again, or close yourself off from him forever.”

Your chest tightened at the prospect. On one hand you never wanted to see him again, it'd be too painful. But on the other hand, life without him seemed impossible, lifeless. Yet he broke you and made you feel the way you feel now and that is unforgivable.

When you moved to get up Helaena offered her hand. Once you took it you gave her a thankful squeeze. You linked arms with her and walked to the kitchen where Jace was making breakfast.

“Waffle morning!” He called out. Jace sent you a bright smile.

You cracked the first genuine smile you've had since the break up. Jace always knew how to raise your spirit.

“I made your favorite waffles. There’s whipped cream and strawberries in the fridge if you want any.”

You noticed he wasn’t mentioning yesterday. That was fine for you; you needed a break. Over breakfast you laughed with your friends and briefly forgot about the last twenty four hours. It wasn’t until you brought up slapping him that you brought the topic to the day before.

“I will admit that I did slap him and it felt great. Do I regret it? I do. I’ve never wanted to hurt him but I didn’t know what to do. He kept trying to get closer to me and I didn’t want him near me.”

Helaena and Jace looked at you, stunned.

“You slapped him?” Helaena wanted clarification.

“I wasn’t thinking.” You shrugged.

“That’s better than me,” Jace chuckled. “Next time I see him I’m gonna deck the shit out of him.”

“He deserved that,” Helaena agreed.

“Please don't deck him, Jace. As upset as I am, I still don't want him hurt.”

“You don't want him to get hurt? Look at you! Aemond hurt you so much, punching him is the nicest thing I could do to him,” Jace said.

You flinched at the mention of his name. “Please don't say his name right now.”

“You can't even say his name!” Jace was getting aggravated. “I know you don't like this, but he hurt you and that's not okay. You're one of my best friends and I refuse to stand by and do nothing.”

“And I appreciate that so much, I really do,” you gave Jace a small smile. “But I still care about him, as stupid as that sounds.”

“It's not stupid, sweetie,” Helaena put a hand on your arm. “You love him - don't try to deny it.”

Looking down at your half eaten waffle you contemplated the complexity of your feelings. You still loved him, you knew that. But it hurt so much. You didn't want to love him, he didn't deserve your love. Still, your heart reached out to him, he hurt you, shattered you, but it also being away from him made your heart ache as well.

“I do. I still love him. I feel empty without him and I wish it would stop. I don't want to feel anything anymore.”

“Feeling this is okay, it means you're human.”

“Ugh,” you stuffed a bit of waffle in your mouth. “I don't want to be a human then.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Jace elbowed you in the side.

“I can't help it,” you elbowed him back.

“See, you're already doing better,” Helaena said.

You took a breath. “Yeah, I am.” A weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

“It will still hit you every now and then,” Helaean warned you.

“I know. But I have you guys to help me,” you clasped a hand from both of them. “And I'm forever grateful.” You sighed. “Ugh, I don’t want to go to class on Monday.”

“I mean,” Jace started, “you don’t have to.”

“You can always take a mental day and it seems like a good time to take one,” Helaena said.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. And -” You were cut off by the doorbell. “Did you guys tell anyone else to be here?”

“No, the only person I called was Hel,” Jace said. “I’ll go check on the door.”

The doorbell rang again.

A familiar sinking feeling came over you. “Gods, what if it’s him?”

Jace’s face hardened. “Then I’m going to punch him like I said I would.”

You turned to Helaena, face filled with panic. “I don’t want to see him again, not now. Please, I can’t do this!” Tears began to fill your eyes.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Helaena took your hand. “We’ll go back to the spare room. Jace will handle this.”

The doorbell rang a third time.

“Gods, he’s impatient,” Jace muttered.

“Go get the door before he starts knocking and trying to break it down,” Helaena ordered.

With your hand in her, Helaena guided you back to the spare room while Jace went to answer the door. Your heartbeat quickened as you heard him open it.

A familiar voice began to speak. “Please, I’m here for -”

You heard the sound of skin hitting skin.

“That’s for hurting my best friend,” you heard Jace say.

A deep sigh. “I deserved that.”

Silence. You imagined the two guys staring at each other. Well, Jace staring hard at him and the other one with his head down in shame.

“I just need to see her, make sure she’s okay.”

“Physically, she’s fine. Emotionally? I’ve never seen her so broken.”

“Fuck,” you almost didn’t hear him. “Can I at least talk to Hel? I saw her car.”

A pause. “Fine.”

Jace’s footsteps came closer and closer to the door. “Hel, he wants to talk to you. Think you can handle it?”

“Of course I can handle my little brother,” Helaena scoffed. “You stay right here.” She gave you one last hug before exiting the room.

“Hel, I really fucked up and -”

SLAP

You couldn’t help the small smile that graced your face.

“How dare you?” Helaena exclaimed. “How dare you hurt her then show up? You should be absolutely ashamed of yourself. You’re weak, Aemond.”

You sucked in a breath at the mention of his name.

“I know I am.” You heard him sniffle. “I destroyed our relationship and now I’m asking for her forgiveness. I know she may never want to see me again, but I at least want to know that she’s healing.”

“Aemond, it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. She’s not okay at all!” Helaena sighed. “I think you need to leave. She needs space and time before she can see you. Hell, she can’t even say your name. Whatever you did hurt her bad.”

“She - she won’t even say my name?”

“No. That’s how bad this is. So I suggest you go home.”

“...Can I at least see her?”

“No, Aemond. Now, go home.”

You heard the door beginning to close. “WAIT! I mean - he can see me.”

Helaena went to you and gripped your hand. “Sweetie, are you sure?”

“If he tries anything I’ll punch him again,” Jace said.

“It’s fine, guys. Really. I’ll need to face him at some point,” you shrugged. Wiping your eyes, you tried to make yourself look somewhat presentable, that you haven’t been a complete wreck. You walked to the door to face him. To face Aemond.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you looked at Aemond but it certainly wasn’t this. His hair was messy, eye was puffy and red, there was a mark where Jace punched him and Helaena slapped him. His eye was devoid of any happiness. Good.

“Princess, I -” he started.

“I thought I told you not to call me that,” you stopped him. “I’m not your princess, never was apparently.”

Something in Aemond’s face broke. “No, no, you know that’s not true.”

“Stop. Please,” you took a deep breath. “You broke me, Aemond,” your voice shook on his name. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for what you’ve done. I gave you everything I had and you dropped it all for a professor. I can’t go through that again. Please don’t make me.” Tears slipped out. “Please, just go home.”

Aemond took in a shaky breath. “I’ll go. But know that I will do everything I can to prove to you that you are my one and only love.”

Jace coughed next to you. “Sure.”

Helaena went to the door. “It’s time for you to go, Aemond.”

Aemond nodded his head and turned around. When he got to his car you collapsed into Jace’s arms, full of fresh tears.

“He came back for me,” you choked out. “I don’t know if I want him.”

“You don’t need to take him back if you don’t want to,” Jace said as he held you tight.

“He’s right. Aemond is not entitled to you.” Helaena came back from the doorway. She made sure that Aemond actually left.

“Can I go back to sleep?” you mumbled against Jace.

“Of course, let’s get you in an actual bed this time, though.” Helaena gently peeled you off of Jace and led you to the spare room.

You fell on the bed with a plop and immediately you welcomed the soothing darkness of sleep.

Aemond stepped back into the apartment feeling broken. All he had to do was gather some of his things to take to Aegon’s house. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. Simply walking into the apartment, however, had his memories reeling.

“Aemond!” you called from the doorway. “I’m home!”

Aemond made sure you were turned around before picking you up from behind and twirling you. “How were classes, princess?” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Classes were meh. So nothing new, just normal.” You shrugged. “What about you?”

Aemond felt himself stiffen very briefly. She couldn’t know. He couldn’t tell her. It would only break her. No, he would have to break off everything with Alys. “Classes are fine, nothing new, just like yours.”

“And Professor Rivers?” you asked him. You knew she was a flirt and didn’t want her anywhere near Aemond.

“She’s nowhere near me.” A lie. “I sit in the back of the class.” Another lie.

“Hmmm okay.” There was something unsettling about his answer but you let it slide.

“I love you and only you, okay Princess? Never forget that.” He captured your lips in a kiss.

------

“Oh, fuck, harder, Aemond!” Alys was bent over her desk with her skirt hiked up.

Aemond pounded into her. He was torn in his mind. His body craved Alys but his heart and mind knew this would break his Princess if she ever found out.

“More, more!”

His fingers dug into Alys’ skin as he picked up the pace. His thrusts were becoming sloppy, he was near his peak.

“FUCK, AEMOND!” Alys squeezed Aemond’s cock, triggering his own release.

Aemond caught himself before he fell on top of Alys, not out of courtesy, but that he didn’t want to touch her anymore. He pulled out of her and fixed his pants. He didn’t look her in the eye anymore when he was with her. He simply looked at the ground.

“Aw, baby, are you okay?” Alys had fixed her skirt. She trailed a manicured hand up his chest and brought it up to cup his face.

Without thinking, Aemond leaned into her touch.

“Don’t worry, she’ll never find out.” She pulled him down so she could whisper in his ear. “You’ll always have a place with me. You don’t need her.”

At that, Aemond recoiled. “You’re wrong, I do need her.”

“If that’s true, then why are you with me?”

He couldn’t think of a reason.

“Exactly. You want me, and that’s okay.” Alys moved her other hand to cup him through his pants. He was already beginning to harden again. “Tsk, you already want to go again, babe?”

“No,” Aemond ground out. “I don’t.”

Alys ignored him as she kneeled down to the ground. “Oh, but your cock says otherwise.” She slowly unzipped his pants and freed his cock. “Would you like me to taste you?”

Aemond swore he said no but, “Yes.”

Aemond was crying as he was gathering his clothes. It hurt. Everything hurt. When he was in the bathroom all he could think about was you punching the mirror. When he was in the living room all he could think about was all the times you made love on the couch.

He fell to his knees and clutched his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Princess.” He curled up on the ground and held himself while he sobbed. He was broken. He knew he made terrible choices and now he had to live with them.

When he finally got up to leave the apartment, he found one of your favorite sweaters. He choked on another sob as he ran his fingers on it, imagining you and your smile while wearing it. Bringing it up to his nose, he inhaled the scent. Your scent. Putting it back on the hook, he adjusted the bags in his hands, and made his way back to the outside world.

“Why did you go to her?” Aegon groaned. “That was such a stupid move.”

“I had to see her,” Aemond murmured. “I had to make sure she was okay. That she wasn’t took hurt.”

“And how did that work out for you?”

Aemond looked up at his brother. “She’s in so much pain and I caused all of that.”

“Were you expecting anything different?”

“Not really.”

“Exactly. Man, you’re just punishing yourself by seeing her like that. Stop. You want to fix this? Then get off your ass and start fixing it. This means ending everything, and I mean everything, with Professor Rivers.”

Aemond nodded; he had to follow his brother’s advice if he were to get you back.

“Thank you for a constructive class this afternoon. I'll see you all on Wednesday.” Professor Rivers dismissed her students.

Aemond was quick to get up and gather his things but Professor Rivers was quicker.

“Aemond, I'd like to see you in my office, please.”

Something in Aemond's gut began to sink. His hands were soon clammy. He didn't want to do this, didn't want to face her, but he knew he had to. Taking a shaky breath, he followed Professor Rivers to her office.

He was sure she was swaying her hips more than usual, and even wore a smaller skirt. As they arrived at her office she looked around before sliding a hand along his chest and whispering in his ear. “Gods, I've missed you.” One hand moved to cup his crotch while she used her other hand to pulled him down in a kiss. Aemond wanted to lean into her, to kiss her, but he thought of you and pulled back.

“You said you needed to see me, Professor Rivers?” He tried to keep his face neutral.

“Ah, yes. Please, come in.” She opened the door.

As Aemond stepped in, he took a seat in front of her desk, like any other student would do. He heard the click of a lock but refused to turn around.

Alys ran a hand across his back then over his shoulder. She gripped him tight. “Why don't you turn around, baby? Or do you want me in your lap?” She sauntered around him and set herself on his thighs. “Oh, I can feel you. You're trying so hard but you know you could never resist me.” She pulled him in for a kiss.

Aemond let her kiss him. He did his best not to kiss back but he failed. Soon, he was gripping her waist and aggressively kissing her. Alys was right. He could never leave her. She ground herself on his cock, straining against his pants.

“Forget about her,” she said against his lips.

Immediately, reality hit Aemond and he reeled back and pushed her off. “No. It’s you I need to forget.”

Alys looked at him, eyes wide, panting with her hand on her chest. For a second she looked stunned but recovered quickly. “Aemond. She’s gone. You ruined her. It’s because of you that she left, not me.”

“No,” Aemond shook his head. “You tricked me, you used me somehow. Convinced that we could be together.”

“Oh, my dear,” she purred, “you made the choice to come to me. And you will always come to me, or in me. It’s wonderful both ways.” She stalked towards him and once again reached out.

“I love her more than I want to be with you.”

“That’s not what your body says.” Alys made a note of glancing at his crotch.

“I don’t care what my body says. It only wants a fuck, that’s all you’ll ever be to anyone.”

“Who says I want more? That’s all I want, all I ever needed out of you, was a good fuck. And damn, are you fucking good.”

Aemond ignored her. “Gods, you played me and I was an idiot to believe your lies.”

“Lies? Not all of them are lies. It’s not a lie that I love you, well part of you. Your cock is just so good.”

Aemond crossed the room to get away from her but she followed. “Fuck that. I never want to see you again, Professor Rivers.” He pushed her away again.

“Now, now, we don’t have to get into formalities.” She was looking worried. No other student has talked to her like this before, has actually pushed her back.

“We’re done. I’m done with you, with your lies, everything. Hell, I’ll even report you.”

Alys laughed. “Report me? And who will believe you?”

“You don’t know what exactly I’m capable of to get what I want.” There was a vengeful gleam in his eye. He turned to leave. “By the way, I’m transferring out of your class. I never want to see you or hear from you ever again.” And with that, Aemond stalked out of her office.

As soon as Aemond was out of her office, he went straight to the president. “Professor Strong, one of your staff members has been harassing students.”

Professor Larys Strong turned around. “Ah, yes. I think I know who you’re talking about. I’ve heard all the rumors.”

“Then why haven’t you done anything?” Aemond asked.

“Because they’re just that. Rumors. Unless you have proof?”

Aemond blanched. “Check the hallway cameras outside of Professor Rivers’ office. She cornered me there.”

Professor Strong hummed. “Cornered? Are you sure? I’ve heard whispers that you’ve been going to her willingly.”

“She shouldn’t be doing this! She’s taking advantage of her students!”

“Fine.” Professor Strong flourished a hand. “If there is footage of her, coercing you, and you are resisting, then fine. I will look into it.”

Aemond nodded his head, knowing it was the best answer he could get right now, and left for Aegon’s apartment.

“I did it!” Aemond burst into the living room breathing hard. “I ended everything and I reported her.”

“Great!” Aegon popped his head around the corner. “I keyed her car!”

“I - you - what?”

“Yeah, I keyed her car,” Aegon repeated. Aegon walked over to Aemond, completely serious. “I found her car in the campus parking lot and I keyed it. Specifically, I carved ‘fuck you.’”

“I guess I'll have to thank you for that one. Wish I could've been there myself but…” Aemond trailed off.

“You made the right choice, brother.”

About a month had passed and you felt…lighter. It was as though a weight had been taken off of your shoulder. You still felt the heaviness of the break up but it wasn't completely unbearable anymore.

You still hadn't gone back to the apartment; you still stayed with Jace. Sitting up and stretching, you looked out the window to see the sun rising. Staring out the window you thought of all that you had gone through the last month.

Aemond’s tried to contact you but every time your phone rang you let it go to voicemail. You'd be lying if you said you didn't listen to each and every message. It broke your heart to hear him but you had to stand your ground. He betrayed you in the worst way possible, he couldn’t be easily forgiven.

Every now and then you'd go through your social media profiles and look through the pictures of the two of you. Both of you were so happy, so in love, and it showed. But he broke it. It was a lie. Taking a shaky breath, you pushed the thought from your mind. Over the last week or so you've been training yourself not to say it was a lie. He did love you, at least at one point, but then he met Professor Rivers and he apparently fell out of love with you. Wrapping your arms around yourself you cried a bit for the first time in a few days. It was cathartic. There was a knock at the door and Helaena stepped in.

“Hey, sweetie, how are you doing?” She said softly.

A watery smile graced your face. “I'm doing okay, no improvement from the last few days. I've just been thinking.”

“I figured as much.” She sat down on the bed next to you. “You know, I do believe he loves you. He's been trying to get in touch, but I don't blame you for not answering him. I've seen my brother at his worst but whenever I saw you two together he looked the happiest I've ever seen.”

“‘Loves?’ I think you're looking for ‘loved.’ I don't think he loves me anymore.”

“Even with the constant phone calls and texts?”

“He just feels bad he was caught, I'm sure.” You rolled your eyes.

“Sweetie, I know you may not want to hear it, but I think he really might still love you.”

There was a sinking feeling in your gut. You wanted so badly to believe Helaena but letting Aemond in again would mean opening yourself up to more hurt.

“I don't know if I want to risk my heart again, Hel. And how do I know he's not gonna cheat on me again? What if Professor Rivers comes back?”

“You won't have to worry about her,” Jace said as he leaned on the door frame. “Apparently she's being investigated for sexually harassing students. That and it's against university policy to be involved with them, too.”

A smile played on your lips. “Wait, what?”

Jace shrugged. “Apparently someone finally stepped up to tell the president. There was footage of Professor Rivers hitting on a student outside of her office in the hallway.”

“Do you know who reported her?” Helaena was on the edge of her seat.

“Aemond.”

You sucked in a breath. “Aemond reported her?”

“Yeah, and apparently she tried to kiss him in the hallway and moved her hand over his, uh, crotch.”

Anger bubbled within you. As much as it hurt for him to have betrayed you, knowing Professor Rivers still wanted him even after he pushed her away made your blood boil.

“Gods I hate her. I hate what she did to Aemond, I hate what she did to me, I hate what she did to us,” you ground out.

“The investigation isn't complete. While Aemond's footage does show that she made unwanted advances, he still followed her into her office.

“Of course he did. He'll keep going back to her.”

It hurt, knowing he still followed her even after he said no. You had no doubt they still did things in her office.

“But,” Jace interjected, “there are a few others who have stepped up to say something. Apparently the guys Professor Rivers has been involved with include Jason Lannister and Cregan Stark. Just those two alone make a good case against her.”

“Maybe I should talk to him,” you murmured.

“I think you should, sweetie.” Helaena put a hand over yours and squeezed tight.

“...I think I will. It's not a promise we'll get back together but it's something.” You looked at your two best friends. “Thank you for everything, I love you guys so much.” Your eyes began to water and a few tears slipped out but they were thankful tears. Tears that were light.

When Jace and Helaena left your room you picked up your phone to find a new voicemail from Aemond. With shaking hands you brought the phone up to your eye and listened.

“I'm so sorry. I know I can't say it enough. I never loved her, I was thinking with my dick. I miss you. I miss you so much and I will do whatever it takes for you to at least look at me again. Everything I do, everything I see, reminds me of you. If I could turn back time and never enroll in her class I'd do it. I'm not even in it anymore, I dropped out of the class.” A break. “When I saw you that day, when you saw everything, I knew I had fucked up. I knew beforehand that I fucked up yet I kept making those decisions. I will never be able to erase the pain from your heart and I wish I could. Gods, I wish I could. I promise you that you are the love of my life, no one else.”

A fresh wave of tears rolled down your face. It's the same thing he's said over and over again but this time you could feel his desperation. You didn't know how long it would last until he would give up, so you took your chance and called him back. The phone rang once.

“Aemond,” you wanted to be the first one to talk. “I - I think I'm ready to see you.”

“Princess! Gods, you called me back.” You could hear his voice crack.

“Please don't call me that,” you whispered. Being called his princess made your heart ache.

“I'm sorry, I won't do that again.”

You smiled a sad smile. “Let's meet at the apartment, okay? Neutral ground.”

“You want to see me?”

“I think I'm ready now. I'll see you around noon?”

“Yeah, noon works. I'll see you then.”

And with a click of the button the line was dead.

Walking out of the spare room and into the living room, you found Helaena and Jace lounging on the couch.

“I'm going to meet him later today at the apartment,” you announced.

“You are?” Exclaimed Jace. “If he tries anything I swear I'm gonna -”

Helaena interrupted him, “I don't think Aemond is going to try anything. He's too afraid of hurting her even more.”

Jace turned to you. “Are you sure about this?”

You nodded. “As sure as I'll ever be. But I can't keep avoiding him forever, either.”

“I'm so proud of you.” Helaena got up and wrapped you in a warm hug. “You can do this, sweetie.”

As you pulled up at the apartment complex, your chest began to tighten and your breaths became short.

“I'm right out here if you need me, remember? If you gotta get out just run and hop in.” Helaena told you.

You took one big breath before nodding your head and then stepping out of the car. There wasn't any sign of Aemond, at least not that you could tell. Walking up the stairs was a challenge; each step felt heavier and heavier. You had to do this, though. Face your fear and tackle him straight on. As you reached the door you noticed it wasn't locked.

“I can do this,” you whispered to yourself. Steeling your nerves, you knocked on the door.

Almost immediately the door opened. It was as if Aemond was sitting by the door waiting for you.

“You came,” he mumbled.

“I did.”

“Come in.” He held the door open for you to enter the threshold.

The apartment was a mess. It was unkempt, clothes were everywhere, you could even see the shattered glass that was never picked up after you punched the mirror. It was as though Aemond had no drive to keep the place tidy anymore. You turned your focus to him and saw that he was in the same state as the apartment; a mess. His hair was frizzy, loose ends were everywhere. His face looked like it had sunken in a bit. He seemed skinnier than before and it's only been a month. There was a dark circle under his eye that looks like it's been there a long time.

For a moment you and Aemond just stared at each other, not believing you were seeing one another.

“I got her fired. She's no longer on campus,” he blurted.

“Good, good.”

“I've missed you.”

You met him with silence. Staring at him, you could see how painful this was for him, not to touch you, not to comfort.

“Why? Why did you do it?” Your voice was barely louder than a whisper.

Aemond shuffled awkwardly. “I don't know.”

“That's not an answer.” A laugh left you. “Tell me why or I'm going to walk out. What did she have that I didn't? Was I not enough for you?” Tears began to flow down your cheeks.

“No, no,” he took a step towards you but you stepped back. “I don't know what I was thinking. She was seductive, I guess. I liked how she was taboo.”

“So I need to be a forbidden fruit to be with you?” You scoffed

“No, I know now that's not what I want.”

“You wanted her? If you wanted her then why didn't you break up with me when it started?”

“Because I didn't want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? Aemond, you did so much more damage than what you could've done. You shattered me. I felt my heart break when I saw you fucking her,” you spat out the last few words.

“I know, I know,” he pleaded.

“Do you?”

He took a step back. “You're right, I don't know. I don't know how badly I've hurt you, I don't know the struggle you've been through.” He collapsed to his knees and bowed his head. “And I'm so fucking sorry. I wish I could take everything back.” His body began to shake with sobs.

“Aemond…” you knelt down in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder. “I…I don't know if I could ever forgive you.”

He sobbed harder.

“But I know I still want you in my life. I love you, Aemond, and this past month has been terrible without you by my side.”

“You still love me? Even after all I've done?” He looked into your eyes. His one was puffy and red.

“I don't think I can ever not love you,” you have him a small smile. “I don't know if I could trust you again, either.”

“I understand.”

“But,” you started. “I'm willing to try again.” You placed a hand on his cheek and cupped his face. “It'll be a long time until I'll even be ready to hear you call me Princess again. But we can work on it together.”

Aemond looked at you with awe. “You want to try again?”

“Yes. I do. I can't imagine a world without you. I could barely stand a single month.” You chuckled and moved to intertwine your hand with his.

“I don't deserve you,” he whispered.

“No, you don't. But I miss you and I need you in my life, please, Aemond.”

“I'll be in your life if you want me to. I'll do anything for you.” His hand reached for your arm and he gave a small squeeze.

“It'll be a while until I can give my heart to you again. We'll take it slow.”

“I'll hold on to you tight.” He pressed his forehead against yours. “I'll do better this time.”

“One step at a time.”

#fics by bean #aemond x reader #modern aemond #modern aemond Targaryen #modern hotd #hotd fanfic #modern hotd au #modern au #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you

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jeongharine · 1 year ago

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syntax ERROR

⚝ wonwoo x reader

⚝ comedy, light smut

⚝ notes: the one where jeon wonwoo is your nerdy math tutor. but he’s unexpectedly hot. and you’re his friend’s sister. obviously. (part ii)

“a pc bang?” “yes she’s always there,” says hoshi, while munching down his sandwich.

“but i can’t teach her there-” “of course you can’t, but you’ll find her there. it’s the one on the left around the corner,”

“now, remind me why i am doing this,” “because you’re my friend and i’m fantastic at being one,”

wonwoo just gulps down his apple juice, looking at the time on his phone.

“you should change this narrative, it’s getting boring,” “wonu, i just need you to do me this favour because if she doesn’t pass this class it’ll be a problem, okay?”

a sigh. “yes, that’s fine. but only for this class okay?” hoshi grins, all teeth “you’re the best,”

“yeah.. i better be going then, i hope she’s a well-mannered student otherw-” wonwoo says, setting off.

“oh.. about that..” “what?” he stops.

“nothing, she listens well,” hoshi says, scratching the back of his head.

she listens well when she wants to, he should have said.

not that this a surprise for wonwoo, knowing her brother. but damn, this girl is getting on his nerves.

“okay y/n, let me be clear. your brother begged me to give you lessons, so now please can we go to the library?”

“nu-uh, i have a tournament here this afternoon. we can do another day,” you crack your fingers and re-position your chair.

“see, maybe this is why you’re not getting through this class. you can do the tournament another day, it’s more important to study matrix systems to pass the exam than gaming,”

“boooooring, i will do that tonight if i feel like it okay? i don’t need your-” you turn your chair around to face him. “...help...”

since when your brother’s friends were this handsome. holy fuck, with that cap on before you couldn’t see anything and maybe he should have kept it on for your sanity. fuck. fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. fuckity fuck.

you can see that he is deeply annoyed by your behaviour, probably he’s used to people who take academic life very seriously. nah, he’s friend with hoshi so. you scoff a laugh.

and he’s just there, looking at you, waiting for an answer.

or maybe to beg you.

“but on second thoughts...” you begin to say, “we can come to an agreement..” “that is?” he shifts in his position.

“we game for about an hour, because you game and i can see that just by looking at your face. and then, we can look at the first two chapters of maths analysis. i think this we’ll do, yes.” you grin widely.

and he hates to admit that the grinning suits you best.

wonwoo promised hoshi that he would have at least gotten through the matrix systems today with you, but here he is. without a fucking clue of what to do.

and you are just looking at him smiling prettily, as if you absolutely don’t know how charming and good-looking you are.

so wonwoo just sighs, and turns his head to glance at the pc screen near him.

even his side profile is pretty, you think to yourself.

“fine. but at least let’s play some battlegrounds.”

“can’t promise you anything,” you say pleasantly, eyes creasing in a glittering smile that suddenly makes wonwoo skittish.

“do you want to fuck my brains out?”

the air in his little dorm becomes unbearably stuffy all of a sudden but you refuse to let it show, after finally voicing the thoughts that were possessing your head for the past few weeks.

wonwoo turns to face you, looking far more collected. you never would have thought it would all come to a head like this in his room on a monday afternoon. but here you are, feeling a little light headed but inexplicably brave.

“i mean,” you say. “doesn’t every girl on campus you know want you to fuck their brains out?” “that you have to tell me, i don’t think i can give you an answer,” he says, piling up the books on his desk.

he starts to drum his long fingers on the cover of the statistics textbook for a good minute, eyes focused on the dusty windowsill while he is chewing on the inside of his cheek.

and it takes you a second to really make that sink in: wonwoo is restless. he is hanging on your next words.

“so, are you going to say something or you will make me wait here all afternoon?”

you smile. and he hates how his palpitations go up by a notch.

“neither. just knowing that you rubbed one out to the thought of me is closure enough to me.” he clearly tenses up. “who says i have?”

you close your textbook with a thud. “oh, don’t be embarrassed wonu. we’ve all been there at one point or another.”

he’s at the brink of being disgusted with himself for getting a hard on when you just used his nickname like that, but despite it all his heart still leaps up into his throat when you sit up from his bed and collect your bag.

“you touched yourself thinking of me?”

you look at him with one hand on the door handle and wonwoo swears his vision blurs slightly as you grin at him like that.

“you say it like you’re surprised.”

there is no build up, no easing you into the uncharted waters. he kisses open the seam of your mouth without any hesitation, the heat of your tongue against his. it feels so harsh and erotic, so completely unlike the wonwoo you just got to know.

so polite and so pleasant.

but now his hands are on you. and you haven’t had the time to realize your eyes were closed until his hands come up to palm around your waist, searching for skin while you whine against him.

your brain is foggy with the taste of him. he pulls back just as you starts to sway in his arms.

“you don’t even know...” he traces up your back. “..what you do to me, uhm?” you gulp, lips all wet.

the muskiness of him makes your head spin fast, especially when he leaves soft kisses on the skin behind your ear. his mouth is so hypnotic, every move perfectly placed.

“wonwoo,” you stammer, not knowing what else to say. your voice has gone croaky and his hand is venturing up your sweater now, not looking like it would stop any time soon.

your breath catches in your throat when wonwoo trails his fingertips over your clothed breast, dancing across it before brushing the underside. you expected his touches to be harsh, sharp. but they are slow, feather-light. practiced.

his chest heaving like he’s just run a mile, the skin of his stomach hard and hot under your fingers from where you shoved his t-shirt up. his lips are smooth when you inch up to kiss him, gently by his cupid’s bow just to make him grunt. wonwoo’s hands curl around your wrists gently, pampering you with kisses for a couple of minutes before pulling away.

“fuck me,” you whisper. and then, because he has to double take like he didn’t quite hear you right. “fuck me wonwoo, please.”

“please. please, wonu. i’m begging.”

“y/n…” wonwoo growls, because he is really close to pop a blood vessel when you sound all whiny and shameless like that.

“i don’t care if someone will hear us,” you murmur against his mouth before pressing it there for a short kiss. you proceed to trail wet pecks all over his jaw and neck, so that he has to close his eyes with a soft sigh.

“fuck,” he whispers, “you’re really begging me to fuck you here when your brother could come back any minute,” wonwoo says, kissing you.

it’s getting difficult for you to respond when his hand ventures down to undo your jeans though, mouth hanging open in pleasure while he nips at your bottom lip before pushing you back down on his bed.

“you have to be extra quiet, okay?” he huffs. and there is something wonderfully satisfying for wonwoo to see you like this, underneath him and all putty in his hands.

“wonu,” you whine again, accepting the soft kiss he presses on your lips before he turns you over and positions you how he wants: on your knees, ass up, face pushed into a pillow to muffle your moans.

“you’re so impatient,” he chuckles behind you, but it sounds so soft. fond, even. he pecks your ear swiftly while you listen to him sliding down your jeans and undies and prepare himself, your heart thudding in anticipation. you’re so thrilled you barely register the embarrassment and awkwardness of being left to wait like this, propped up and ready for him to fuck you stupid. and you gasp when you finally feel his erection against your weeping slit, hot and everything you want.

he keeps grinding against your slick folds. “wonwoo,” you whimper, because his tip keeps slipping in and that alone is making you gush. you push your hips back, tears blurring your sight with how desperately you want him inside you. “please.”

he chuckles softly, leaning over to kiss your shoulder before finally pushing into you.

“so, i assume the lessons are going well since you two see each other three times a week now,” hoshi says, voice muffled by the noodles he’s slurping.

his eyes are set on wonwoo’s face, lost in the gimbap in front of him.

because if wonwoo has to be real honest, the lessons are going really well, yes. but also his dating life.

and how can he say that to hoshi... ‘oh yeah, she’s really smart hosh and also a fucking star at giving head!’

in his defence, wonwoo would probably never get over the fact that he has succeded in pulling someone like you. he suddenly turns pink thinking about your pretty smile and your prettier laugh. the glint in your eyes when gaming together and the concentrated face you make when trying to understand math concepts that even he has difficulties in teaching. you clinging onto his arm, the late night ramen runs at the convenience store and your honeyed sighs and moans when you’re in the private of your own.

so yeah, he doesn’t really know where to start with this.

“wonu-yah?” hoshi hisses, and suddenly wonwoo gulps when his friend is holding his stare in a vice grip.

“we’re fucking hosh,” he admits timidly, and hoshi starts swearing.

#wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #wonwoo smut #seventeen fic #wonwoo fic #svt fic #wonwoo x y/n #seventeen smut #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines

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l0lita-luv · 1 month ago

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if you could write act II caitlyn x fem!reader that would be really good 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ so basically im thinking like office sex and caitlyn is either a service top or a dom top (whatever you find easier/prefer to write. 😚) could be that she’s basically like stressed from all the ambessa, piltover, enforcer, etc etc stuff, but i’ll let you do your thing thank you in advance 🫡

Ok jokes over where did my pants go?

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ HIT ME HARD…

…and soft coming soon!

Caitlyn x Fem!reader

warnings- Dom!Caitlyn, sub!reader, reader is described as fem, the two of you r married, grinding w clothes on, mommy kink-c receiving, spanking, hair pulling, slapping, use of strap, all r receiving, pet names: baby & angel, strap is referred to as cock, L bomb after sex, office sex!! (didn’t check for mistakes)

Today was moving too slow for your liking. Your wife barely payed any attention to you even though she promised she would spend time with you today.

When you entered her office in just your frilly robe not even then did she pay attention! But you also understood the amount of stress she’s been going through these past weeks with Ambessas orders and piltover. Hell she even lost her mother!

So to distract yourself, you cleaned the house up a bit and started on dinner. Maybe her favorite dish will cheer her up a bit!

As you finished up, you took the plate and made your way to Caitlyn’s office knocking softly on the door. “Come in…” Caitlyn sighed out barely audible. “Hi love, I just wanted to give you your dinner!” You say sweetly making your way to her desk, setting the plate down. Placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Dinner already?” Caitlyn’s eyes widen as she noticed how much time she’s been working. “M’ sorry love I’m just so stressed!” Caitlyn yells out the last part, her hands balling into fists.

“Is there any way I can help?” You ask suggestively sliding your way into Caitlyn’s lap. She groans gripping your hips harshly forcing you down grind onto her whimpers falling out of your mouth taking the chance to untie your robe letting the silk fall to the floor leaving you in the pretty matching set you picked out.

Caitlyn’s eyes are filled with pure lust, bucking her hips up making you yelp. “W-when did you put that on?” You ask since you haven’t seen her around the house all day. “This morning.” Caitlyn responds plainly your whines filling the room from the friction.

Suddenly, she lifts you up from her lap onto her desk placing the plate of food elsewhere. “Can’t wait any longer…” Caitlyn grunts swiftly removing her pants, revealing the blue strap that you loved so much. You practically moaned at the sight quickly taking of your panties urging for Caitlyn to just fuck you already!

“Please Cait…” You whine out looking up at her, “That’s not my name Angel” Caitlyn responds cocking her head at you. “Please fuck me mommy!” With that she kisses you sweetly plunging her cock into with no warning making you both moan.

“You ok?” Caitlyn asks holding your hips steadily beginning to move at a generous pace making you wail gripping onto her shoulders.

But it wasn’t long until she was fucking you like her life depended on it, your moans becoming more erotic “Mommy! Y-yes just like that, god ‘re so de-ep!” You moaned out making Caitlyn groan, her grip on your hips becoming tighter.

“Being so so g-good for mommy yeah? Letting me use you however and whenever I want.” Caitlyn smiles looking intently at all the adorable faces you made.

You couldn’t even come up with a proper answer. You received a firm slap on your face quickly coming up with a response, “Y-es, use me!” You manage to get out quickly becoming a babbling mess all over again.

Her pace became more erratic bringing the two of you closer to the edge. “M’ gonna cum!” Your squeal out scratching her back. “Cum for mommy baby let go.” Caitlyn said as she whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

Your legs trembled as you came undone onto her cock Caitlyn quickly following after riding out your highs.

“M’ gonna pull out ok?” Caitlyn says as she pulls out softly kissing your neck. You thought you were done, but then she surprised you by her flipping you over and bending you over her desk.

You barely got a break before you feel Caitlyn aligning the tip to your entrance. This time, she enters slowly.

“M’ gonna move now ok?” That was the only warning you got before she was quite literally destroying you. Her grunts and slight moans mixed with yours filling the room along with the lewd squelching sounds happening between the two of you.

“Doing s’ good for me…” Caitlyn told you sweetly before placing a firm slap on your ass making you yelp.

“Mommy please!” You moaned out, “Please what angel?” Caitlyn responded gripping you hair back. “I need to cum!” You whined whispering profanities the closer you got. “Yeah? Cum for me baby let go!” Caitlyn moaned out the strap hitting her clit perfectly.

You ripped out a loud moan, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. “You did so good baby.” Caitlyn whispered into your ear slowly pulling out. She carefully flipped you over for you to sit on her lap once again, her nimble fingers caressing your skin.

“I love you Cait.” You whispered, “I love you too angel.”

#l0lita luv #fanfic #oneshot #fluff #caitlyn smut #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn x you #caitlyn x reader #arcane #caitlyn x female reader #caitlyn x fem reader #hmhas billie eilish #request #reqs open

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peachdues · 9 months ago

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A little softness from Part II of The Great War, featuring Giyuu’s unfurnished manor and the first look at the meeting between Reader and the Uzui gang…

READ PART I HERE

Giyuu watched her survey his estate and he felt a flush of embarrassment. He’d never given much thought to its furnishings beyond the barest essentials – namely, his futon and a mismatched assortment of cookwares for the rare occasion he bothered to prepare himself a meal.

Admittedly, he’d never spared much consideration for how empty and barren his home might appear to outsiders. Never before had it occurred to him to decorate; after all, he’d never had visitors in his time with the Corps, apart from the time Tanjiro had come to train with him, shortly before that final battle. But then, as he watched his new fiance slowly take in the sprawling estate before her, he felt a strange unease.

“It’s not much,” he admitted, quietly. “But you are free to do – to decorate – as you wish.”

Y/N still did not answer, and Giyuu found himself in a rush to explain; to justify. “This is your home, too, after all –”

At that, the shrine maiden’s eyes snapped to his, as though suddenly aware he was indeed there.

“Forgive me, I –,” her voice faltered as her eyes swept across the empty interior of the Manor. “I have never had a place I could truly call my own. But now I do.”

She finally looked to him, and Giyuu realized he expression had not been one of wary judgment; it was awe.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her hand rising to settle against his cheek. “Thank you for returning to me. Thank you for this gift.”

As Y/N hurriedly re-dressed in her shrine clothes, she swore she heard a titter of voices join the one which had loudly disrupted her soft morning with her new fiance.

Once dressed, the young Miko quickly looked around her fiance’s sparsely furnished bedroom, desperate for a mirror to ensure she looked presentable, but to her chagrin, there was none. With a grimace, she fished her small wooden comb out of her bag and yanked it through her hair, scowling at some of the knots which had formed as a result of Giyuu’s enthusiastic fingers.

She moved like a storm through the bedroom, finding the delicate hairpin the Water Pillar had gifted her discarded haphazardly to the side of the futon. Y/N quickly twisted her hair back and slid the pin through the knot she’d made, securing it in place. Her hands patted nervously down her front, smoothing any wrinkles or pulls in her shrine uniform. There was little else she could do to ensure her appearance was proper to greet guests, but she would have to discuss the need for a mirror with Giyuu later.

Quietly, she slid the door of the bedroom open and padded softly down the long hallway which led to the front of the Water Pillar’s estate. As she drew nearer, the muffled hum of voices clarified.

“Kanao and that haughty loudmouth of hers are quite cross with you,” the male voice, warm and rich boomed from the front of the Manor. “You didn’t even allow them to examine you once you woke up –”

“I had something I needed to do,” came Giyuu’s even reply. “It could not wait.”

There was a great snort. “You just don’t think, Giyuu.”

Y/N drew upon the last corner that separated her from Giyuu and his guests and she paused. After two quick, steadying breaths, she squared her shoulders and forced her legs to carry her around the partition, her heart lodged uncomfortably in her throat.

The four strangers gathered in the front hall did not immediately notice her appearance, but the Manor’s raven-haired master did. The moment the shrine maiden stepped into the entry wing, Giyuu turned toward her. Though the man – lumbering and massive as he was – had been in te middle of lecturing the former Water Pillar about the need to take care of his health, Giyuu’s attention on her remained rapt, his eyes full of warmth and longing.

Slowly, each of the strangers – three women and one man – turned their attention to what had so ensnared that of their friend’s, and suddenly, Y/N found herself bearing the uncomfortable weight of four additional pairs of eyes.

Three and a half, she corrected inwardly, noting that the one who’d ben speaking when she’d arrived wore a distinct, bejeweled eyepatch over his left eye.

The four strangers continued to stare at her, their faces contorted in various degrees of surprise, from the stunned, raised-eyebrow expression worn by the woman whose hair was slicked back and up, to the gobsmacked, slack-jawed look of pure awe by the girl whose eyes were a distinct shade of brilliant blue.

The male companion blinked. “Well,” he straightened, a massive arm coming to rest on his hip as he flashed her a crooked smile. “I guess this is the reason you were in such a hurry to leave the Butterfly Mansion, huh?”

—

BONUS:

“Who is this, Giyuu?” The silver haired man prompted, eye flicking back and forth between Y/N and his comrade.

“She is everything.” Giyuu said simply, and Y/N felt her cheeks burn. “She is my betrothed.”

such babies 🥺

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #giyuu tomioka #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny giyuu #giyuu x reader #kimetsu giyuu #giyuu x y/n #demon slayer fanfic #kny smut #demon slayer smut

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ivoryrebellionmess · 5 months ago

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Spooky remorses II

Part I

Summary: You dated Jax for a year and a half, it was great. You fought sure, but that's a given if you´re both stubborn (and he's constantly in danger). Gemma didn't like the relationship, and she made sure that it ended. Now, months after the breakup, your friend takes you to a Halloween party that just happens to be SAMCRO´s.

warnings: 18+, mdni

A/N: hiii omg i cant believe so many people liked the first snippet. thank you so much, honestly, i am beyond excited. so here´s a follow up, hope youu like it <3

tw: foul language, kinda hooking up with your ex, jealous jax, smoking,a little bit of spice, alcohol, gemma being mean

Word count: 4096

As you got to the middle of the dancefloor you saw Juice and Hazel and went over. Juice and you had gotten close while you dated Jax. He was easygoing, funny and nerdy, and the first of the boys to warm up to you.

He lifted you from the floor when you hugged, ¨How are you Juicy??¨.

He seemed genuinely happy to see you, and he gestured to Hazel when he answered, ¨I´m great. You look awesome, the fangs are hot¨.

Finally someone complimented you on the fangs, you personally considered they made you look way hotter, but whatever.

Your relationship with Juice had always been the find of friendship where it feels like you´ve known each other forever, so flirty jokes had always been present. Hazel seemed surprised at the closeness you had with him, but it made sense that you had friends there if you had dated Jax for a year and a half.

¨While you two catch up¨, she interrupted smiling, ¨I´m going to the bathroom and to get another drink¨

Juice and you danced for a little while when his shirt sleeve rolled up and his bicep was visible. Before you could help yourself, your hand was on it.

¨What the fuck happened to you since I´m not around? You on steroids or something?¨ Juice laughed at that and shook his head.

He flexed his muscles while he talked about the new work out he´d been doing, ¨You like it?¨

He kept flexing his arm, and you kept laughing and touching him. Both of you oblivious to Jax´s stare, a mix of annoyance and jealousy. Chibs wasn't obvious though, and he did what he was there for. ¨You don't look too happy there, Jackie-boy¨.

Ever since he'd seen you go in, he was on edge, he didn't know why. Okay, he did, you looked awesome and it wasn't for him. He regretted what had happened between you, and he felt guilty, he should've stood up for you to his mom. And now you were there, all gorgeous. But it wasn't for him, and you weren't with him. You were with Juice, admiring his muscles. And it pissed him off. You thought you could just walk in? Not even say hello? Prance around looking that good? Flirt with one of his brothers? All of that in front of him?

Juice and you were still joking around about how girls just swooned when they saw his ¨guns¨, as he liked to call them. If Jax thought that was as bad as it got, he was wrong when a song you loved came on and you seemed determined to have Juice dance it with you. He eventually accepted and pulled you close to him by your waist, your arms around his neck. Jax was burning holes between his brother's tats when Chibs decided to continue his quest.

¨They´re getting cozy, aren't they?¨. He could feel the scot staring, but his eyes were glued to you.

To Juice´s hands on your waist, to the space separating your bodies that seemed to be getting smaller by the second. And your face, you were laughing at something, you lit up when you laughed. The way your right hand traveled from Juice´s neck to his arm again, squeezing it teasingly. He could feel the tension in his jaw, how tight he was gripping the beer, his knuckles white. And so could his brothers.

Then, you turned your head to look at him, your gaze uninterested and bored, and said something in Juice´s ear. That was it, you had crossed a line. Ignoring him was one thing, but that look of pure disinterest, you could not ignore what you meant to each other. So he started walking before he could think about it, not knowing what he was going to say when he got to you.

While you danced and joked, you suddenly felt Juice´s demeanor change, but you didn't need to ask what was going on.

¨Shit, I don't think Jax is loving this¨. He didn't stop dancing, but you could tell he was being careful.

You decided you were not going to take it seriously so you retorted, ¨Why wouldn't he like us dancing?¨

Juice chuckled, but his tone was serious, ¨Don't play innocent, you know he's jealous¨

You just couldn't resist a peek, was he really?, so you turned your head, very focused on keeping a neutral face, and looked at him. He did look jealous, and annoyed. You tried not to let it get to you, trying to have a good time.

So you made a joke, you had to get close to Juice´s ear so he could hear it, ¨Is he scared you´re gonna make a move on me or somethin´?¨

Instead of an actual answer, you saw Juice´s look of terror. Turning around, you understood why. Jax was walking towards you, an angry look on his face.

Juice´s whisper got mixed with yours, ¨Oh, hell¨ and ¨For the love of god-¨

Jax stopped in front of you, his eyes flickering back and forth between you two. He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw before speaking in the coldest tone you'd ever heard from him.

¨What the hell is going on?¨ It was an easy question, with an easy answer, but you weren't feeling like taking the easy and safe route.

Did you know he probably thought you were flirting? Yes. Did you care? No.

So, before you could think, or Juice could answer, the snarky remark was out your dark red lips. ¨What's it look like, genius?¨

It didn't seem possible, but his jaw clenched harder, he wasn't even looking at you. ¨It looks like you're flirtin´with Juice, gettin´all up on him right in front of me¨ There was something bitter about the way he answered.

¨You think I care that you´re here? ¨ Of course you did ¨You think I did this for your attention?¨ You hadn't, you actually hadn't. You were just trying to have some fun and ignore the hottest guy in the room.

Jax knew you were just trying to provoke him, and it was working, but he refused to give you the satisfaction. He just hated seeing you two together, laughing and having fun while he was miserable. And maybe he also hated how damn close you had been dancing. The way you were looking at him, a challenge in your eyes. Go ahead, make a scene. He absolutely hated that he was about to.

He took a step closer, lowering his voice. ¨I don't think you did it for my attention, but now you have it. So cut it out¨

What did he think was going to happen? You'd just agree? No, he just wasn't thinking straight anymore.

You, of course, only challenged him further. All that was needed for that were a scoff and two words. ¨Or. What.¨

Another step closer, you could touch him if you wanted to. ¨Or you´ll find out, that's what¨ He just growled an empty threat, you both knew it. He also knew he was out of patience and you were not going to keep pushing his buttons.

You realized something then, he had growled, and you heard him. How had you been able to hear him with all of the noise…everyone was staring at you. Well, fuck.

¨Okay people this isn't a show, go back to the party¨. With that, you left the clubhouse, only stopping against one of the picnic tables to lay against it and breathe deeply.

Jax´s eyes followed you, as they had through the night. He could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on him, this had turned into a bit of a spectacle. He let out a frustrated sigh as he followed you to the picnic table, his footsteps heavy and deliberate.

You heard him before you saw him, and as usual around him, you spoke before you thought. ¨You did always like to be the center of attention¨.

The snarky comment had Jax gritting his teeth, his anger flaring up again. He did not speak, however until he was standing in front of you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

¨I don't know what the hell your deal is tonight, but you´re really pushing my buttons, you know that?¨

To that, you only shrugged, looking at him coldly. ¨My deal is I just wanted to have some fun¨

Maybe looking at him had been a mistake, if he had looked good from afar, he looked even better right in front of you, illuminated only by the streetlamps. He was wearing what he always wore, and still he had never looked better in jeans and an oversized white t-shirt. Your face did not show any of that obviously, it was neutral. He could tell you were angry though. But you could tell that so was he, so you were in a tie.

Fun, that was what you were calling it? He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. ¨Yeah, real fun. Gettin´all cozy with Juice, practically making´out with him in front of me. That your idea of fun?¨

You bit your lip, trying not to lose it on him, the fake fangs drawing his attention. ¨So let's see if I got this right¨ You put all the poison you could in your words, hoping they stung as much as seeing him again did. ¨You´re mad that I danced with Juice, whose attention was on me, as opposed to dancing with you¨ You poked his chest before continuing ¨who didn't even say hi when I walked in?¨

He felt a pang in his chest at that, you were right, he´d been so caught up in his anger and jealousy that he hadn't even considered how he had ignored you up until that point. Jax looked away for a moment, a flash of guilt in his eyes.

¨I didn´t-¨ He started to defend himself, but cut himself off, you were right. Instead he let out a frustrated huff.

¨Yeah, that's what I thought¨ You let a beat of silence pass, then looked at him again. Fuck he looked good . ¨Got a smoke?¨ You needed something to do with your hands.

Jax looked confused for a second, his eyes scanning your face, staying on your lips for a second too long. He was still mad at you, but he obliged. ¨Yeah¨

He patted down his pockets until he found a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He took one out and handed it to you with his lighter. You only took the first, bringing your hand up as you asked , ¨Light me?¨

His pulse quickened at the simple request, something about the way you said it. A bolt of desire went down his spine. Something in him wanted to challenge you, so instead of just lighting it, he took the cigarette from your fingers and placed it between your lips, lightly brushing them. You made an effort to not show the way he affected you. Jax then leaned in closer, shielding the flame from the wind with his hand, not touching you. Your eyes were locked on his, the intensity of the moment almost unbearable. The fire made his eyes sparkle, you got lost in them.

His gaze was still fixed on yours as you took the first drag, his face so close to yours he could almost feel your breath on his lips. The intimacy made his heart race, his anger slowly fading into the background. Your anger also became less and less prominent, upstaged by a complexity of feelings.

Jax grabbed the cigarette from you and took a drag of his own, never breaking eye contact. The air between you was electric, crackling with tension. It was hard to breathe, having him so close. He blew the smoke, you felt it on the tip of your nose before it was blown away by the wind. His blue eyes were relentless, never breaking from you, not as he took another drag, and not as your hand searched for his to grab the cigarette. It felt like the tension was growing thicker by the second. Jax was very aware of how close he was to you, how easily he could just touch you.

He watched you smoke, and you watched him. Until your eyes focused on the cigarette instead of his blue ones. You followed the lipstick stained cig, and then your eyes stayed locked onto his lips. They wrapped around the end of the cigarette, then closed while he held the smoke in, and finally parted to let the smoke out. Jax could feel your gaze on his lips, it made his stomach clench with desire.

He took another drag, slowly and deliberately, his lips closing around the cigarette in a way that was almost sinful. To top it off, he let out a low hum, eyes never leaving yours even if you were not looking him back, mesmerized by his lips. He was fully aware of the effect he had on you. And you both knew it. You cursed him mentally when you realized he was doing it on purpose.

When he hummed though, that was straight up mean, and this time the curse came muttered under your breath, ¨fuck-¨

Jax smirked at your cursed response, his ego inflating. He could tell he was riling you up, and he was loving every second of it.

¨What was that, baby?¨ His voice was low and dripping with false innocence. And using baby so casually, like he would while you were together. None of it was accidental.

He took another drag, this time he watched you with a wolfish smile playing on his lips. You couldn't let him win.

Your hand went up to his face, sneaking the cigarette from him and taking it to your own lips. You exhaled the smoke in his face, lips almost brushing his.

¨Didn't say anything¨, you played along with his innocence, replicating it.

Jax´s heart skipped a beat when your hand snatched the cigarette from his mouth. He could feel your breath on his skin when your lips came so enticingly close to his. The innocent facade only making it harder not to close the space between you. But he knew it was only an act, one he wasn't buying.

He chuckled lowly, ¨Yeah, sure you didn´t¨. His eyes fell to your lips again. Your gaze was fixed on his eyes, the hungry look in them making it harder to think of a comeback.

You did what you could, taking a drag, hoping it would distract you, it didn't. ¨Yeah, sure I didn´t¨

Had it been the smartest thing to say? No, but it was the best you could come up with, so it would have to do. You had to up your game, he couldn't win. Jax found your teasing infuriating, it was also hot, yes, but infuriating. He was on edge, trying to keep his thoughts in check each time your lips wrapped around the cig. The need inside him to kiss you senseless was overwhelming, clouding his brain.

¨You're such a damn tease¨, he growled, ¨you know that?¨

To say that the growl had made your knees weak would be an understanding, so you decided to bring it up a notch too. It was only fair.

You replied in what could be considered a purr, rather than actual talking. ¨Don´t know what you´re talking about¨

His body ached to touch you, he gritted his teeth, wanting to kiss you until you couldn't breathe. Hell he wanted to kiss you until you couldn't remember your own damn name. The next time he talked you could hear the desire dripping in his rough voice, ¨God damnit, darlin´¨

You liked the effect that had had on him, so you purred again, this time closer to his ear. ¨What is it baby?¨

You hadn't meant to call him baby, it slipped, you got too lost in the heat of the moment. If you weren't so distracted, you'd realize the importance of what you had just said, the major step back you'd taken in getting over him. And his beautiful blue eyes. And his perfect lips. But he didn't give you time to think about all of that because his eyes darkened, his body stiffened by the tension. The sultry purr, calling him baby, you made him want to show you how much he'd missed you.

¨You know damn well what you're doing to me¨, the desire was mixed with a bit of a warning. It did nothing to scare you off.

Using the hand that wasn't holding the cigarette, you pulled him closer by his belt loop, all caution thrown to the wind.

¨Remember when we used to smoke together? Blowing the smoke into each others mouths?¨. You sensed him nod, watching him clench his jaw.

The reminder of those memories felt like a punch to his gut, your mouths touching, feeling your breath against him, the way your kisses would taste,...Jax felt like he was drowning.

His hands came to rest on your hips and his voice was barely rough whisper, ¨Yeah, I remember¨

You hummed, enjoying the feel of his hands on you, yours now resting on his abs, ,¨Havent done it in a long time, have you?¨

You could feel him tensing under your hand, fingers caressing his skin over the white cloth. His mind was spiraling, it had been so long since he felt your touch, and he wanted more. Jax tried to pull himself together, shaking his head and looking at your eyes.

His husky voice broke the silence, ¨No¨, and hesitantly, he added, ¨Not since you¨.

The hold on your hips got harsher, holding steady against his body. It made you press your legs together, and even worse, it pulled a groan from your throat. The fact that he hadn't done it with anyone else held significance, it felt like it was yours, it was something you did whenever your screaming matches reached a dead end. You´d share a cigarette, and it always led to this, which always led to bed. Or a couch. Or wherever. Even the pool table once.

Your legs pressing together did not go unnoticed, igniting in him the urge to pin you against the picnic table and take care of it himself. But he needed to keep some semblance of control, even if it was slipping further and further away. He did lean in closer, pressing himself against your body, his mouth so close to your ear you felt his beard scratch it.

But you couldn´r let him have this, so taking control over your body. Okay, maybe taking control was an exaggeration. Regaining an inch of self control, you whispered in his ear, ¨Wanna do it again? for old times sake?¨

Jax´x breath hitched as your breath ghosted over his ear, it took him a few seconds to understand what you said. And when he did, a shiver ghosted down his spine. His eyes fell closed as he fought the desire inside him, the want to do very ungentlemanly things to you against that table. But when had he even been a gentleman? He opened his eyes and looked at you, sending sparks though your whole body.

When he spoke and you looked up to him again his eyes were practically burning with desire. ¨Fuck yeah, I do.¨ His voice was barely above a whisper, yet it seemed to resonate through your whole body.

You did not have the strength to do anything, scared that your hands would tremble or your voice would shake. It wasn't a problem, because Jax took the cigarette from your hand, letting his knuckles graze your fingers. Your touch against his abs was driving him crazy. So did your smell. And so did your eyes, which were locked on his lips. The heat of your body, even if it was a chilly october night, made his mind travel to dark places. He took a slow drag.

¨Open up¨, his voice was raspier, holding the smoke in his lungs.

Your lips parted on their own accord, your head moving closer.That made Jax hum, itching to close the space between your mouths. His next command came right before he exhaled, not giving you time to react or answer, ¨Inhale¨. So you just obeyed, lips barely touching his.

That graze sent a wave of heat through his body. Every little detail, from the way the smoke curled around your nose to your hand tracing patterns on his abs, was more overwhelming than the last. It was a hard fight against himself, against the crippling desire to fuck you right then and there. The anticipation though, was making the moment hotter and hotter.

Your self awareness, the little voice screaming don´t do this, seemed to have disappeared with your self-esteem when he next ordered: ¨Hold it in¨. You almost moaned at that, his dominant side had always had that effect on you. Your hand moved to his waist, needing somewhere to hold on to before your knees gave out.

Your hand clutching his waist, that brought back memories. way more naked memories. Your body pressed against his, he was sure you could feel how hard he was against your thigh. And you could. It was distracting. You felt his arm move up again, but your eyes were locked on his.

Jax got closer as he spoke, his lips now millimeters from yours, ¨Ready?¨ You could taste the smoke as you exhaled.

Then your mind managed to work for a short second, what did he mean by ready?. ¨Another one?¨

Jax seemed to be a second away from tearing your dress off as he answered, ¨Yeah…another one¨. It was a challenge, he was challenging you, the stubborn bastard. But you were definitely not losing this fight.

So as the cigarette came closer to his lips again, you snatched it, ¨My turn. ¨

He could hear it in your voice, you were fighting a losing battle, so was he. The idea of losing control with you in this moment, though, seemed appealing and terrifying at the same time. What you got instead of an answer was a groan and a rub, his impossibly hard dick against your soft thigh. You didn't realize you had moaned until he mocked you for it, ¨You need to keep it together baby¨, then his head moved lower as he bit your earlobe, ¨We haven't even started yet¨.

His sass, as much as it bothered you, was hardly enough to keep you from clashing your lips with his. But he pulled away, his voice dripping sex and cockiness, ¨Show me what you got¨, nodding to the cig in your hand. And you had no voice but to obey.

So you took a long drag, hoping it would distract you from the ache between your legs. It didn't. Moving the hand from his waist to his face, you caressed his lower lip and decided to throw his words back at him.

¨Open up¨. You sounded way more confident than you were expecting, or felt for that matter. You could tell it had bothered him, good . That's not all it did, it caused him to hum. And as he parted his lips, his tongue darted out and licked your thumb. You shakingly exhaled the smoke, not knowing how much more you could take.

Jax did not need your instructions, closing the gap between you and inhaling the smoke, not pulling away even after he let the smoke out, you were breathing the same air. Jax somehow got closer, one of his hands steady on your hips as the other moved up, finally setting on the back of your head. His fingers traced patterns on your nape, sending shivers down your spine. Your mind was no longer yours as you slowly licked his lower lip. His lips parted a second later, but he didnt give in. Lucky for him, you didnt give a fuck anymore. Using the hand on his cheek, you pulled him closer and kissed him, your tongue in his mouth, battling for dominance. Fuck. It was somehow better than you remembered. And you couldn't get enough, his lips tasted like smoke and addiction.

Life never made it easy for you as the clubhouse door flew open, breaking the moment, shedding light and noise on you. On your compromising position.

#jax teller x you #jax teller x reader #jax teller fanfic #jax teller #soa #sons of anarchy #samcro

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zillychu · 12 days ago

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hi hello looks at the tags of ur recent act 5 sif art. i wld LOVE to hear more about the stress level mechanic you mentioned if you perhaps wanna ramble about it 👉👈

I kept putting off answering this ask forever bc I wanted to finish the idea it came with, but idk when that will happen so here we go!

This was a game mechanic I thought of while refining an idea for a hypothetical sequel (two actually, for a trilogy), where Siffrin essentially remains OP as hell. But this does not actually make things easier.

Ramblings about the distress level mechanic, and story thoughts under the cut! This contains spoilers!

Re: In Stars and Wind

(get it. re: because it's a sequel. and also re:wind. wind is important. and there are no loops but Sif rewinds. god I'm so funny)

[[ Act I, part I ]]

Starts as a slow, cute holiday where the player gets to control different party members for each part of the story for different points of view and inner thoughts, to get a better feel of where everyone is emotionally.

Now in Bambouche, the party is traveling together, the atmosphere very much a relaxed and welcomed vacation. We see some of the new, but very mild conflict they have to juggle–how everyone has different opinions on handling their exploding fame, different ideas on where to go next… acclimating to Siffrin’s new demeanor and ailments.

It's nothing terrible! Siffrin is more susceptible to Crafting sickness now, like an old injury that's fully healed but can get sore easily. Using Craft normally tends to mean lingering fatigue, maybe a nap or two. Heavier usage, and he gets body aches and fevers.

He's also…different, now. They all know, they understand, they take it all in genuine stride. It's just a bit bumpy when Siffrin brings up something he shouldn't know, references things that never happened, still instinctively reaches for their knife or looks for easy ways to die when they feel cornered. Sometimes he gets unreasonably scared in battle, sometimes unreasonably scary. His power fluctuates from lv.1 to lv.999 (wait, wasn't the level cap supposed to be 99?)

Odile and Isa are the first ones seen discussing how odd that is. They saw those after-images of him running through the House on his own, they know he's strong. Much stronger than anyone could be even with years of fighting Sadness. (How long was Siffrin trapped in those loops, anyway?) Hell, he had the power to become something akin to a god.

They chalk up his moments of weakness to Craft Sickness, perhaps even a new and lingering disorder. They're not worried about it being a bother, they're just worried about what it could mean for him. They've brought it up before, but Sif also looked a bit confused and would say he just felt weak and tired for some reason. They think maybe his ridiculous power back then was only there due to the Wish Craft that no longer exists–maybe they're blowing things out of proportion.

Though all in all, everyone is happy! They're all together, seeing new places, becoming closer.

At the end, they have a campfire picnic at night. It's then that everyone solidifies they're family now, and Sif is struck by how similar it all feels to that night. The night he wished he had back. He breaks down into tears and they try to comfort him, but he's happy. He tells them about that night now lost in the loops, how everything went right that day. Everyone laughs and cries and it's full and bright, their little campfire shining like a star in the night. They all love, and they're all loved.

[[ Act I, part II ]]

Despite all the warmth. Despite all the joy and progress they've all made.

Siffrin is still hiding something.

Back in purely Sif's POV, we find out there's much, much more to his condition than everyone realizes.

He struggles with keeping his masks in order, some of them popping up against his will. He doesn't have multiple personalities, but he is a bit more extreme with his personas. He tries to be Siffrin, the rogue, the traveler, the friend. But he's also Siffrin, who endured over a year stuck in a time loop, who aged what feels like eons, whose power now rivals a god's and can barely contain his extreme reactions to distress, to knowing or even thinking his family is in danger.

Sometimes, during a fight, he thinks a Sadness hit a friend a bit too hard–and he eviscerates it, gaze too dead and too cold and he can see the way his allies freeze up. Can see their uncertainty, their waiting fear (just like that time). Thankfully, he can shake it off once he notices they're safe, and they relax when he's “back to normal" easy enough.

But it isn't just battles when this can happen. Sometimes even doing the simplest most mundane thing can slowly slip the contentment off his face (even if he's still happy!), or habitually slip into masking too hard with unnervingly fake smiles. Sometimes he'll simply order some food only to find the shopkeep staring at him warily.

But that's okay. He's used to acting. His family tells him he doesn't need to do that, that he shouldn't hide anymore. But this isn't the same, is it? He really is happy, he's just covering up some weird muscle memory that'll disappear in time. This is a good thing, actually! He's being more honest this way! Right?

Like he's being “honest” about the Time and Wish Craft irrevocably etched into his soul now. He's not lying, he really does get Craft Sickness easily now! It's just. It's maybe not all coming from his “injury" of overusing Craft and nearly destroying the world. Not entirely. But that's part of it, so he's not lying!

(Lying by omission is still lying. Stupid. Useless. Don't you ever learn? When will you learn? Can you learn? Why do you keep repeating the same mistakes–)

They're not the same mistakes though! He's getting better at talking to his friends, letting them know when he needs help. He's changing he's changed too much go back go back go back just like they are!

He knows he needs to tell them if something big happens. And he will! He'd never get trapped in a another time loop and not trust them enough to avoid relying on them. He knows now how much it hurts to see a loved one shoulder so much pain when you can be there to help split the burden.

But what's going on is nothing. It's silly! It's just him being silly. There's no reason to tell them about something they'll probably get all worked up over when it's really not that big of a deal. Friends don't tell friends absolutely everything, they've all admitted as much too! Sometimes you do have to balance little white lies, little secrets. Pick and choose which battles to share, which to keep personal.

So it's really not that big of a deal! He's figuring out why his body still innately uses Time Craft sometimes and he rewinds the world a bit.

Okay. Okay that sounds so much worse than it is. Really! He's not stuck in a loop anymore, he doesn't rewind whole days. He'll just. Sometimes he'll get hurt, or really scared, or really upset and the world kinda. Blinks back a few minutes, or hours. Back before the thing that caused him distress.

They don't need to know about that. It's no big deal. Nothing has ever changed drastically anyway (Bonnie would have just gotten scuffed up falling down that hill, that stomach wound Odile sustained could have been easily healed, Isa would have recovered from a broken fractured leg, Mira could have dealt with that overzealous fan herself)

It wasn't like he watched them die again again again, he didn't die, the world wasn't ending. Everything was fine!

Did that weird cat just talk.

[Gameplay changes from here, traveling from town A to town B. There are still a lot of Sadness roaming about, you save a couple people, etc etc]

[[End of Act I]]

[GAMEPLAY DIFFERENCES]

Everything is the same, but has additional statuses now!

Buffs and debuffs have two levels, normal (1 level) and critical (2 levels)

In addition to HP, there's now distress (DL= distress level)

Distress increases with:

Battle duration

Damage taken (healing proportionally reverses this) (lower HP = bigger increase)

Allies getting hit with Criticals

Allies getting low on HP

New enemy attacks that inflict negative emotions

Distress decreases with:

Healing

Shields and buffs

New distress-specific items

New neutral Craft ability: Breathe

Resets to 0 after battle victory

Effects of distress:

When personal distress hits a certain percentage, allies gain certain debuffs and/or buffs (intentionally made to show stress can be beneficial, up to a point)

20%: ATK/DEF/ATKSPD up (1)

40%: ATK/ATKSPD up (1), DEF down critically (2) (most mob fights stop around here)

60%: ATK up (1), DEF/ATKSPD down critically (2)

80%: ATK/DEF/ATKSPD down critically (2)

100%: Cannot act. Essentially frozen, can only be decreased with specific items/skills or battle end.

Siffrin only:

As personal distress increases, the chance increases that Siffrin loses control of his strength, dealing massive damage 1.5x above a Critical, but at a cost. These are called Overclocked attack/Crafts (haha, get it?)

Overclocked attack: Hits all enemies and your party, lowering HP (including yourself)

Overclocked Craft: Increases both ally and enemy stress (including yourself)

80%: Act 5 Siffrin unlocked. Sprite permanently changed until distress is lowered under 50%. All attacks/Crafts are now Overclocked, and he only has DEF down critically. Allies gain distress 1.5x faster.

100%: Unleashes Wish Craft immediately (regardless of turn order), dealing massive damage to all enemies and allies, and brings HP down to 1. Gains special “Craft Sickness" status, where all stats are down critically for the remainder of the battle.

This state is Siffrin instinctively attempting to go full bigfrin, but non-fatally stabs themself to keep their mind grounded :)

(You eventually obtain equips and/or Craft skills that minimizes the backlash of Siffrin's Overclocked hits and Wish Craft, making it a viable strategy to intentionally distress him. This has an effect on the story! It's not healthy to burn yourself out to achieve more in life, stop that.)

And that's all I have for now! I'm not sure if/when I'll get the urge to finish things up, but I have a super rough draft. Can you guess what the weird talking cat is about? :) Teehee

#in stars and time #isat #isat spoilers #KASS AND RIN AND SUMMER AND KATIE AND NICKI. THAT MEANS DON'T FUCKING LOOK #zilly squeaks #if ur wondering how wind is important here. it's bc that's introduced in Act II and I haven't written it yet lmao #it has to do with traveling tho! :)

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