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loliwrites · 2 days ago

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The One You Need | seven

🎶 Rest your head here, pull me closer I'll hold you tight while you let go, girl And I could love you, if you just let me Be the one you need🎶

pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. warnings/tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], hyper-independent reader, absent fathers, minor discussion of baby poop, fluff, cuddling, SMUT, repeated verbal consent, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, hair pulling, hickeys, mild choking, pussy pronouns, terms of endearment [sweetheart, good girl, sweet girl], female reader, reader has hair long enough to pull, no physical description, protective!joel, soft!joel, dare i say ei!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 9.1k series masterlist | part six a/n: here’s the last chapter of this fic! it’s been a long time coming and i’ve appreciated each and every one of you for reading, commenting, and reblogging. it was great fun and i hope there’re more stories to tell in the future

It was worse than you imagined. You sister really was on her own despite having a very legally married husband. It only took a day to realize she hadn’t been exaggerating the situation at all. He left for work at five in the morning after not even attempting to help with the baby through the night. Your little nephew was going through a bout of sleep regression, and you witnessed how your sister was the one who went to soothe him when he seemed to wake and cry every hour. And when her husband came home twelve hours later in the evening, he made a beeline for the couch, sat down on it and suddenly had a list of demands.

Bring me a beer. When’s dinner? Did you vacuum today? Why is the washing machine ringing? You should switch those clothes out. And after dinner, he didn’t even bother taking his plate to the sink much less being a fully-functioning adult and cleaning it – or at the very least, rinsing it off.

Your sister’s day to day seemed to be a never ending circle of soothing the baby, changing the baby, feeding the baby, cleaning, cooking, cleaning again, and laundry. How she had managed for so long before hitting her breaking point and calling was beyond you. Now carrying some of the burden, you felt resentment growing for her husband – and for all men. Was this not how your own father had acted when your mom was raising you and your sister? Was he not just as absent-minded? And if these were the two marriages you had for reference, men seemed to take the cake for least helpful and useless humans on the face of the earth. All forty-nine percent of them.

It was a big reason (but not the only reason) as to why you were dodging Joel’s calls. Your first few days with your sister had grown so much anger toward men that the last thing you wanted to do was talk to one – even if he was putting on what you now believed to be an act about being attentive and caring. For the first week, he tried calling two or three times a day, and you let each of them go to voicemail. Your sister had asked who was calling, but you shrugged and insisted it was spam. Now that you’d been with her for two weeks, Joel called less and less. Still, he called once a day at varying times, hoping to catch you in a free moment. What he didn’t realize was you had no free moments as you took some of the weight off your sister’s shoulders.

You closed your laptop as your sister rounded the couch with two cups of coffee. On the carpet in front of you, your nephew was playing with a toy that seemed to only be able to play one song over and over again. With rather poor timing, your phone rang right as you were being handed coffee, and so it was impossible for you to hide the screen which very clearly read “Joel” and not “Spam Risk”. As you went to click the side button and send the call to voicemail, you caught a mischievous glance from your sister.

“Who’s Joel?”

“My neighbor,”

Your sister hid her smile by taking a sip from her coffee. She nodded slowly and let out an acknowledging hum. “He’s spam?”

You shot her a glare, “yes.”

She nodded again, then fixated her attention on her child. “How many times have you slept with spam?”

You took another sip of your coffee before reaching forward to set the mug on the table in front of you. “Not enough to warrant him being so persistent,”

“Must’ve left quite an impression. Why aren’t you answering?”

You pondered how far into this conversation you wanted to go. If you wanted to go into it at all. That childhood in the family home had really done a number on you. Shit, you were sure it had done a number on her, too. That the years of walking on eggshells and trying to figure out what type of mood mom and dad were in had done seemingly irreparable damage. That you couldn’t get yourself to let someone in. That in the times that you’d tried, it wasn’t enough. It ended in heartbreak – both blindsided and not.

And deciding none of that mattered because your sister was in her own sewer of shit, you decided to go with a simple answer. “I think he’s looking for something I can’t give him,”

If she’d been your best friend who you told everything to, she would’ve called bullshit. But it was just your sister, so she nodded in false understanding. You wondered if anyone would ever really know you.

With your morning coffee behind you, you started off on a laundry list of chores – which surprisingly enough, didn’t include actual laundry today. Surely today would blend into all the other days spent here. And would culminate in you growing so frustrated with your brother-in-law that you’d eventually just remove yourself from the room and disappear into the guest bedroom that at this point should’ve just had your name on it.

It was like clockwork. Completely infuriating that you could predict it so easily. He came home, ignored his child, and plopped his ass in his recliner, demanding a beer and asking why the living room hadn’t been vacuumed. You wanted to smash the glass bottle over his head and scream that there weren’t enough hours in the day to do everything. Not when there was an infant that needed attention and caring for.

And because you knew you were bound to say something you’d regret, you excused yourself from the living room early and retreated to bed with your laptop and some shitty television show you could go numb to. Even though the intent was to turn off your brain, you couldn’t stop thinking about how long you were going to stay here. A couple more days? Weeks? A month or two? Would you ever go back to Texas?

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

The next morning, you woke up in a sheen of sweat. Hair stuck to your cheek and forehead. And you sat up with the sheets pooled around your waist. Fuck. Two weeks and the sex dream about Joel you expected to happen in the first couple days had finally made an appearance. It would’ve been nice to get laid. Of course. But not at the expense of stringing him along. He deserved someone who could open all the way up to him. And lean on him. And depend on him. And all you could do was depend on yourself. No one else could pick up any slack for you. You could do it the best.

The baby shrieked from the other room and you knew it was late enough in the morning that he was up for good and your brother-in-law had already left for work. It was safe for you to re-emerge into the wild. Blindly reaching for the nightstand, you fumbled around for your phone, realizing it wasn’t plugged into the charger. Thinking back through the blending of days, you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d had it.

Padding out and seeing your nephew playing with a rattle, you waved excitedly to him. All but running over, you bent over and gave him a big, loud kiss to the head. Then you turned to finally address your sister who was already brewing a pot of coffee.

“I gotta go to the store today,”

Your sister nodded and picked up a notepad where you could see the grocery list of things she’d already added to it. She was past the point of offering to go with you as the last time that happened, it was an utter nightmare. Toting a fussy infant around while trying to move efficiently through the market was counterintuitive. You just wanted to get in and get out, and you could do that best if you went by yourself.

“Do you know where my phone is?” You looked back over your shoulder at the coffee table with no luck.

“I put it by your keys near the front door. It fell between the couch cushions last night,”

You nodded once – the sneaky couch cushion. Always the likely culprit. “I’m gonna go shower, get a cup of coffee and watch an episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse with my little man,” you pointed at your nephew. At your attention he burst out into a toothless grin and a giggle. “And then I’ll head out for groceries,”

You were quickly learning that nothing ever went to plan with a baby. Everything was constantly derailed. The plan of shower, coffee, and TV was a nice one. But what you couldn’t account for was that halfway through the episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, your nephew was going to have a massive blowout that sent poop up to his shoulder blades. Gagging and choking to keep yourself from upchucking, you ran him to the bathroom while your sister drew the bath. Getting him undressed was a task as removing his onesie meant you got some of the poop in his hair. And bathing him while also dodging the poopy water he slapped in your direction could’ve qualified you for an olympic medal. You ran for the front door as quickly as you could once he was clean again and your sister had him back in a fresh onesie.

You never thought you’d be so happy to go to the grocery store. Even if it ended up that it seemed like everyone and their mother was doing their shopping all at the same time. Didn’t anyone work anymore?

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Stubborn as all hell and not wanting to make more than one trip out to the car for groceries, you loaded the canvas bags on your shoulders and forearms until they were tugging at your skin and threatening to drop everything you’d just bought on the garage floor.

Struggling to lift your hand to turn the doorknob you got the slightest of grips on it and used your weight to push the door open, while using your foot as a wedge to keep it ajar for you to slither through and into the house. It was commonplace now to enter the house as quietly as possible. The baby was a notoriously light sleeper and you’d already been guilty of accidentally waking him more than once. So sneaking in, you knew you’d made the correct decision when you heard the classical lullabies coming from the nursery. He was out. And elsewhere in the house, you could hear the kitchen sink going. Good. Your sister was catching up on the pile of dirty dishes her husband had left behind.

You huffed and puffed, willing yourself to make it to the kitchen before you dropped the bags to the floor. It seemed as though you were going to make it. A quiet, self-congratulatory cheer was halfway out of your mouth when your breath caught in your throat at the threshold of the kitchen.

Hunched over the kitchen sink, rinsing off a handful of soapy silverware, was a large, strong back with broad shoulders. Far larger than your sister’s. Joel.

Frozen, taking a moment to comprehend that he was actually, truly there, you didn’t say a thing or make another sound. But it was like he could sense someone behind him. After setting the clean silverware down in the drying rack, he looked over his shoulder and spotted you.

“Hey,” he pressed a smile at you. That charming smile you’d gotten really used to seeing back home.

“What are you doing?”

“Well,” he chuckled and looked down at the sink, “I’m gonna finish washing these dishes.” He glanced back up at you, “then I’m throwing a load of towels into the laundry.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. Eyes flicked over him. He was just as you remembered. As if two weeks had been two years and you’d just come back from war. “Where’s my sister?”

“Sleepin’. She was tryin’ to get the little guy down for a nap but he was fussin’. I told her to get some rest,”

Tears started stinging the corners of your eyes, “you put the baby down for a nap?”

He nodded, almost looking confused at your confusion. Why wouldn’t he help with the baby? Little did he know you’d just spent the last couple weeks watching the baby’s father do absolutely nothing. So without saying anything else, you ran to him. Threw your arms over his shoulders and clutched onto him. There was a keen awareness that as you held onto him for dear life, he wrapped his arms around your hips and held you to him. Secure. Steady.

You sniffled and turned your face into the crook of his neck, “I miss you.”

Though he knew you couldn’t see his face, he still tried to hide a grin. Instead, he turned and pressed a kiss to the side of your head, “I miss you, too.” He let you go as you slowly backed away from him and wiped your fingers beneath your eyes to make sure he didn’t see any tears fall. But he stared into your eyes and smiled a little wider, helping you catch the one tear that had made it down your cheek. He swiped it away with his thumb, “you were screening my calls.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I–”

He pursed his lips and shook his head, “don’t apologize. I know.” Joel pressed another smile and cupped his hand over the back of your head to guide you closer so he could kiss your forehead. “I know I was asking a lot of you too soon. I know that,” he lowered his hands to yours and intertwined your fingers together. “I was scared you were going to run too far away from me. That I wouldn’t be able to wrangle you back. And I… pushed too hard. I know I did because I saw the same thing in your sister today. So afraid to ask for help. Like someone’s gonna think you’re a burden if you can’t do it all,”

You sniffled again and Joel raised his hand again to swipe another tear away before it could fall fully down your cheek.

“You’re not a burden because despite your best efforts, I’m falling for you. Take the trash out to the bins for you. Snake the drain when your hair clogs it. Plant flowers in the winter and pick a bouquet for you in the spring. I want to do all those things, so all you gotta do is ask me. Ask me and I’ll do anything for you,”

Nodding, you leaned forward and pressed your forehead to Joel’s chest. He scritched his fingers through your hair. All you could do was sniffle again. Because how in the hell did you stumble upon a guy like him when… “My sister’s husband is just like our dad. And I feel bad for her,”

Joel took a deep breath. He didn’t want to be too hasty with a response to this one. Finally he settled on one. “Is that why you dodged me? Thought maybe I’d turn out to be like your dad and your sister’s husband?” He lowered his head closer to yours when you didn’t stir. You were just trying to protect yourself. He knew that, too. “You’re a good girl. You know that?”

You raised your head and looked up at him. Something you expected to hear more likely within the bedroom, had never sounded so innocent. Joel grinned a little wider and brushed his fingers through your hair to push it away from your face.

“A good girl. An understanding sister. And a helluva woman,”

On any other day, you would’ve blushed and hid your face from him at a comment like that. But today, you let his words rain over you. You wanted him to continue. To keep proving that he was leaps and bounds different from other men. But your nephew had other plans.

And at the sound of his crying, your sister padded out of her room and spotted you and Joel in the kitchen. She blinked sleepily, beaming at the sight of you two before she carried on to tend to the baby.

You stayed turned in her direction for a moment after she’d already left your scope of vision. But at the feeling of Joel’s hands squeezing your hips, you turned your attention back to him. “You stayin’ here, or…?”

He shook his head, “I’ve got a hotel ‘bout 10 minutes away.”

“Well, hurry up, then. I’ll throw the towels in the wash,”

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

There you were. Once again. Lounging in Joel Miller’s (hotel) bed. His khaki duffle bag was on the desk pushed up against the corner of the room. A small backpack of some items of yours sat beside it. And his phone was on the nightstand beside you. That struck you as the greenest of all green flags because the phone was in striking distance should you get curious, but Joel was not. He was in the bathroom, where now, the shower turned off. You had come in together, but despite your lips on his neck with teeth grazing over it, he insisted on showering first. To get the airport off of him.

The bathroom door creaked open and you looked in that direction, awaiting him to return to your line of vision. He did just a second later. Rounded the corner out of the bathroom and stood there at the foot of the bed – a white towel slung around his hips, haphazardly secured at the front. He held a smaller white towel and scrubbed it over his head to rid his hair of dripping water.

“Now that’s a sight I missed,” he trailed his eyes over your body, splayed out on the bed. He tossed the smaller of the towels onto the desk and crawled onto the bed.

He was so close now. His position above you forced you to recline, laying down fully. Caged there between his hands on either side of your body, you lifted your head off the pillow and kissed him. Pleased that when you lowered your head back to the bed, he followed with you as to not break your kiss. His tongue pressed to your mouth in search of entry, and once you let it in, it was greeted by your own tongue.

Joel hummed into your mouth and let his hips fall down to yours so he could move his hands to your face. Cupping either side of your head, he brushed his thumbs back and forth over your cheeks. After a couple weeks of living life more closely resembling a nun, mixed with this morning’s sex dream, you felt redeemed by a makeout session. Longing and yearning paired with frenzied lips. Teeth gently tugging at soft, plush skin. Tongue vying for attention and power. Wandering hands in search of the next bit of purchase. You bucked your hips upward, dragging your mound over the bulge between his legs. That white towel was doing as many wonders as his gray sweatpants did. It felt like you were in college again, on some sad twin mattress, dry-humping a co-ed that wasn’t going to give you any amount of pleasure. This time, you knew the man you were dry-humping would.

Joel’s lips tightened into a smile against yours and he pulled his hips back to tease you… to keep you from getting the friction you wanted. He snaked his hand between you and the pillow and grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of your head. With a slight yank, your head tilted backward, leaving your neck exposed, and you at his mercy.

“Joel,” you moaned, feeling the throbbing in your core intensify.

“Only good girls get to do that,” he smirked and pulled your hair a little harder. With your neck stretched out fully, he leaned forward and bit it, close to the collarbone.

Instead of letting go, he sucked on it, and you absolutely knew what he was doing… Marking you. You’d wear the bruise for a few days, hiding it like a teenager who feared getting caught with it, but who would secretly ogle it in the mirror to remember the day it was given to you.

“I’m a good girl,” you pleaded, trying to lift your hips again.

But now he moved his other hand down and gripped into your hips. Forced it back down to the bed. Too easily, you thought. “Are you? Last time I checked, good girls didn’t disappear for two weeks without a goodbye fuck,”

You pursed your lips together in a pout. That was fair. Had you not sprung your exit on him at the very last possible moment, knowing it wouldn’t amount to any sort of closure. For either of you. “I want to be one for you,”

Joel did his best to hide his smile. But you saw it crack through this domineering facade. “Yeah?”

You nodded with widened eyes and batting eyelashes. Tracing down his chest and stomach, your hands found their purchase on the top of the towel at his hips. You looked down at it for the quickest of moments. Just enough time to spot the outline of his cock beneath the fabric. Then you flicked your gaze back up to his eyes.

“Show me what kind of good girl you are,”

With a clear indication to proceed, you looked back down at his waist and curled your fingers beneath the fabric. Though it hadn’t budged from where he’d originally secured it, it became undone with very little force from you. The towel fell open and partially exposed him to you. Realizing your jaw had fallen slack, you closed it and swallowed while simultaneously pulling the towel to the side until he was completely free from it.

There was something oddly intimate about his complete nudity juxtaposed by your lack thereof. His member bobbed up and down on its own volition as he grew harder and you reached forward to wrap your fingers around him. Though with the way you were positioned together, you had to rotate your hand palm up, and twist it in a less than desirable way to be able to stroke him at all.

His eyes drifted down to his waist and caught sight of your hand. Just having you touch him again was pleasurable enough. If he was being honest, his own hand hadn’t been cutting it in the past couple weeks. But he saw you struggle to keep pace at the awkward angle and he grabbed hold of your wrist and pulled it off of him. What he didn’t expect was that you’d cry out, and with a sense of near-panic, try to reach for his length again.

Realizing he’d asked you to show him, and then very quickly was keeping you from doing so like some sort of punishment, his heart twisted into a knot. “Sorry– sorry. Just let me…” He sat back on his heels and shifted his weight from one knee to the other, to reposition himself, straddling your body.

He lifted your hand, palm facing up, and spit into it before he released your wrist, which you promptly brought back to his shaft. Now with a better angle, you were able to stroke him with far more ease. Your eyes stayed glued to it, focused on how your hand slid from the base all the way up to the head, where your fingers curled over it before sliding back down to the base.

“Lemme see your eyes,”

On command, you looked up at Joel. His jaw had fallen slack and he stared at you with something devilish in his eyes. You licked your lips and inhaled sharply, wishing you were a little less clothed at the moment. Or at the very least, not wearing an old college t-shirt. A little visual stimulation right now could’ve done him some good.

“You wanna suck my dick, sweetheart?”

It was a far more gentle proposal than you’d been expecting, but nonetheless, you nodded eagerly. You lifted your head to try to get at him as quickly as possible, but he shook his head and clicked his teeth until you succumbed and laid back down. This time when he peeled your hand off of him, he did so with a nod to assure you, you’d have it back in a moment.

“Take your shirt off for me?”

Thank God. You reached for the hem with haste and tore the thing off, flinging it over the side of the bed. Left in your bra – not the sexiest of them but still with a little padding for a slight push-up – you went to resume your place, but Joel caught you and helped you up a little further so you weren’t in a fully supine position. Now with your head propped up at a slight angle on the pillows, he brought his knees further up until he was straddled just below your shoulders. You flicked your eyes at him nervously. This was new.

“This alright?” He asked with his length in his hand, slowly stroking himself. There was a moment’s pause on your end, eyes flicking back and forth between him and his cock, before you nodded. He smiled to himself as you fixated on the way he played with his member. “Let me hear you say it,”

You looked back up at him. How could you have forgotten you were in the presence of the king of verbal consent? “This is good,”

“Good girl,” he smiled. With slow deliberation, he eased his hips forward and guided himself into your awaiting mouth. His free hand moved to the headboard, palm pressed flat against it to steady himself. He knew he’d grow weak feeling your mouth working him over.

And he was right. The moment your lips closed around the head of his cock, he let out a labored groan. His eyes fluttered shut and he let his chest deflate for what seemed like the first time in a long time. Now with both of his hands against the headboard, you held onto the base of his cock gently while you sucked and licked at the head; pulling more and more precum from him with each lick to the underside.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he looked down at caught you staring at him.

You blushed and inhaled through your nose. Allowing your eyes to drift shut, you worked your mouth down halfway down his length, then pulled back so as to not choke on him. With a slow rhythm, you did that over. And over. And over again. Joel wasn’t touching you. Wasn’t saying anything particularly dirty to you. Yet you felt yourself drip in your underwear and you squeezed your thighs together.

He must’ve heard the fabric of your jeans rustle because a chuckle floated out of his throat and your eyes snapped open. He stared down at you, head cocked to the side, and had a hard time deciding if he wanted to look at your eyes or the way his shaft moved in and out of your mouth. You kept in a staring match until your hands drifted around his legs and urged him forward even more. At that, Joel bowed his head and was decidedly focused on your eyes.

He obeyed your urging, but with a watchful gaze, he went even further than you expected him to. The head of his cock pressed at the back of your throat. Your eyes filled with tears. One even escaped the corner of your eye and rolled down to your temple. Fingers gripped tighter to the back of his thighs as he pushed the limit.

“Look at you gettin’ all of me in your mouth,” he’d grinned breathlessly, all but shoving the entirety of his length past your lips.

You’d managed to hold your breath while he explored the far ends of the boundary, but with the next breath you tried to take, you choked and sputtered around his length. Joel pulled out of your mouth. Strands of saliva kept you connected for just a moment before they broke as he stroked himself again.

He bent over, nearly folding himself in half to lower his face to yours. Despite your heavy breathing, his free hand cupped around your neck and squeezed the sides of it gently. And he kissed you with lust and fire. No consideration or care for the fact that you’d just had him in his mouth. He lapped at your lips and tongue, drinking you up until you’d regained your breath enough for his liking.

Joel unfolded himself and placed both hands against the headboard again. Eyes glued to you, he watched as you dove forward for his length, and took it in your mouth again. Reinvigorated, you sloppily dragged your lips over him before pulling back just enough to move your mouth down to his balls.

“F’you keep doing that, I’m gonna come,” he muttered through his teeth trying not to paint your face with his spend then and there.

But when his comment was met with a challenging hum from you, he lowered one hand from the headboard and reached behind him, stretching as much as he could while not disturbing what you were doing. His fingers hit the waistband of your jeans and he kept going. He pushed them beneath the tight fabric, and then pressed into your skin to get his fingertips beneath your underwear.

Your legs flinched together when he passed over your clit. You brought a hand up to his shaft for the twofold purpose of pleasuring him and keeping it out of the way while you paid his balls some attention. But with his middle finger circling your button, your mouth dropped open, “please, Joel.”

His response came to you in a soft tone. “I need to taste this pussy, sweet girl. Make me come and I’ll eat you out,”

The lightness of it – despite his words being wonderfully and horribly sexual – caught you off guard to the point that your eyes found his and you licked up over his delicate anatomy. Carefully, you sucked one of his balls into your mouth and rolled your tongue over it. The more you continued, the more you felt Joel unable to keep pace. His fingers stopped and started randomly. Brain slowly losing the ability to function as the pleasure swept through. You switched over to his other testicle and gave it the same gentle treatment when his finger stopped for good this time. He slid his hand out of your pants and curled it around the front half of his length, cautious to not accidentally bump into your face.

“M’gonna come,” he mumbled frantically, giving himself a few short tugs. “Where do you want it?”

You grinned and pulled away from his balls, “anywhere.”

“Where,” he all but demanded. His cheeks were flushed as he besought you for a clear answer.

“Mouth,” you cupped your hands around his thighs again. “My mouth,”

A guttural moan came from Joel and he angled his member at your open mouth with not a second to spare. He spilled onto your tongue with another groan. The muscles in his shoulders and arms tensed up until his orgasm was over. He released his shaft and it smacked down to your tongue. You picked up where he left off and wrapped your lips around him. Despite being wary of continuing gently, his body shuddered when you gave a final suck to him.

“Wait, wait…” he eased his shaft out of your mouth and hand and began to work himself backward away from your head.

Again, you’d only just swallowed when he bent over again and kissed you with an open mouth. He was, undoubtedly, the most surprising man you’d ever come across. Soon though, his lips left yours and he made his way down to your neck, where you stretched out to give him room to do so. His lips stayed by your ear, and ever so stealthily, he settled himself between your legs. Easing your thighs apart so he could drop a knee between them.

Joel kissed and licked your neck for a moment before he nipped on your earlobe, “you’re wearin’ too many clothes.” He smiled at your reaction when you nuzzled your face into his shoulder. “How about we take this bra off?”

His hand snaked around to your back and paused at the clasp until he heard you give him the go ahead. “Yes,”

Within seconds, he pulled away to part your chests only as far as he needed to in order to take the garment off you and toss it to the floor. He returned his lips to your ear with another quiet demand, “arms above your head.” Pride flooding him when you obeyed yet again. He crossed your wrists over one another and held them with one of his massive hands. Joel kept his eyes locked on yours when he trailed his free hand down between your bodies and set his fingertips on the button of your pants. “You gonna let me eat you out?”

You nodded enthusiastically and responded all at the same time, “yes. Please, God, yes,”

Joel undid the button and zipper on your jeans. With your help of lifting your lower half off the bed, he managed to shove your pants down to your calves. “She still taste as good as I remember?”

You giggled, playfully fighting against his grip on your wrists. Testing the waters. “It’s been two weeks, not two months,”

“Two weeks too long when I want it everyday,” he released your hands and kissed his way down your chest, between your breasts, down to your belly button, until he met the waistband of your underwear. He tugged on your jeans and freed your legs from them completely. Spreading your legs wider, he lowered himself between them and draped one of your legs over his shoulder. He kissed your inner thigh while his fingers toyed with the lace at the crease of your leg, “can I?”

“Joel, just do it, pl–” your words died in your throat when Joel pulled your underwear to the side and latched his mouth on your clit. “Please,” you moaned and immediately buried your fingers in his hair. Both of your hands cradled the back of his head, fighting the urge to push it down harder on you.

He opened and closed his mouth around you, craning his head lower to lap at your dripping entrance. “Goddamn. Love that you get this wet just from sucking my cock,”

Just from the way your underwear had stuck to you, you were sure you were a mess. Slicked up and ready for Joel. He wouldn’t need to do too much for you here. Shit, the sex dream itself had nearly gotten you there. Yet he kept working. Licking from your entrance, all the way up to your clit.

You shivered and tugged on his hair, silently begging him not to stop. The noises coming from him – the hums and the moans – were a pretty good sign that he wasn’t going to. He lifted your leg off his shoulder and pushed it back toward your chest. It raised the angle he was able to get at you and he used that advantage to close his lips around your clit again. It made your calf spasm in his hand which he remedied by massaging his fingers into the muscle. And most of all, you knew he was making more of a mess of you than you’d already been before. With each lick and swipe of his tongue, a wave of arousal flowed out of you. He even brought a hand up to your entrance and smeared your slick all over as if proving the point even further.

Joel eased his middle finger into you with his palm facing upward. Your body fought him but he fought back by biting your inner thigh, and a shriek left your throat at the sharp feeling.

You clutched at his hair tighter, tugging on it with fervor, “so good, Joel. S’good,”

He pulled his finger out of you, much to your dismay. But very quickly pushed it back inside. This time with the addition of his ring finger. You let out a coo… a hum… a plea for him to get you there. To just tip you a little further, off the edge, foregoing the wherewithal to be embarrassed by how quickly he could.

You came without warning. You’d thought you had a minute left but there you were coming undone, moaning and trembling beneath him. In fact, the first coherent words out of your mouth were exclamations of apology. You brought a hand up over your mouth, trying to ground yourself as your body still jerked to each of Joel’s movements. Sorry’s passed your lips in a steady stream.

Joel didn’t answer right away. Just removed his fingers from your core and kept kissing and licking your swollen cunt until your body stopped spasming. He kissed up your hip, to your navel, and continued past it. It wasn’t until he pressed his lips to the curve of your breast that he finally lifted his head. He stared at your lips and wiped his hand over his beard to clean away some of your release before he leaned back in and kissed you.

You accepted it wholeheartedly, trying to pay him back for your lack of warning before you came. He’d been aware enough to warn you of his. “I meant to warn you, I–”

Joel pulled away from you and shook his head, “don’t you fucking dare apologize for coming.” He lowered his weight to you and cupped one of your breasts in his hand. He kneaded the supple flesh and lifted his other hand to the side of your head. Lips pecked your jawline until he closed in on your ear. “Want me to fuck you?”

He whispered so softly you almost didn’t hear it. Had you not been so tuned into him, you might’ve missed it. But you nodded eagerly, arching your body off the bed to grind up against him.

His lips stretched into a smile against your jaw. “Take your underwear off,” he paused, waiting as you did so. He only lifted himself far enough up for you to complete the job. Then, brimming with pride, he whispered to you again, “put me inside you.”

“Joel,” you whined, hoping he’d take control of the situation.

But he was intent on matching your stubbornness. “If you want it, take it,” he grinned again against your ear.

This time there wasn’t hesitation on your end. You reached between your bodies and wrapped your fingers around his girth. He nodded softly and you brought him between your spread legs. Careful, deliberate actions until you pushed him past your tight ring of muscle and he sunk inside you.

“Attagirl,” he lifted his head and kissed you tenderly.

You’d expected frantic, hurried sex. The type of starved lovers after weeks away. Something a little more similar to the oral sex you’d both just given and received. But instead of quick thrusts that sent your head into the headboard, Joel let himself rest inside you for an extra minute. He kissed your lips, and cheek, and jaw, before he made his way back up to your lips. Just content for the time being to relish in the feeling of him throbbing inside you, and your body responding to it with tugging clenches.

“Joel,” you whined again.

This time he cupped both hands around your cheeks and hushed you. “Let me take my time with you,”

“I need you to move though. Fuck me. Hard. And now.”

He smiled a little wider. Before he gave you a verbal answer, he rocked his hips backward and then slowly thrust back into you. “Be patient. Let me take care of you,”

It wasn’t lost on you that he was saying that a lot lately. Let me take care of you. If this… mind-blowing sex and earth-shattering orgasms were included in the “taking care of you”, you were inclined to let him. So you bit your tongue and set your hands on his ribs, content to let him take care of you however he saw fit. You doubted you’d have any objections if it was going to end in another orgasm.

Joel’s languid thrusts pierced into you in steady repetition. And though they weren’t fast or rough, they were just as deep and powerful as you remembered. Maybe even more so as the slowness allowed for his eyes to remain on your face; catching every miniscule change in your expression. From the breathless smile that spread across your face when his cock passed over your gspot, to the wince that replaced it when the head of his length pressed against your cervix.

He kissed you again, this one a tender thing that matched the care and precision of his thrusts inside you. Each forward motion of himself into your anatomy fanned the flame inside you. A heat rose in your chest and migrated up your neck and to your cheeks. You saw a similar flush in Joel’s own chest and cheeks. It gave you great pleasure to know you could satisfy him as much as he could satisfy you.

You clutched at his sides a little tighter when a particularly deep thrust made the edges of your vision blur. “Want you to come inside me,”

“Yeah?” He nodded, reassuring, “I will.”

In times past, even if the sex wasn’t hurried, it wasn’t necessarily an event. Not like this. Not like Joel was content to fuck up into you for hours if that’s what it took. It surely wasn’t going to. But not once did his pace quicken or falter. Not when you purposefully squeezed your muscles around him to spit him on. Not when you lifted your hips off the bed to meet him halfway. In fact, he just held you down. Pinned a hand to your waist and forced you flush to the bed so he could keep his desired speed.

But in the effort of once again meeting each other at stubbornness, you decided to take matters into your own hand. You pressed against his chest with force, not surprised when he immediately leaned away from you. He didn’t go as far as to pull out, but he did stare down at you, utterly confused. Just after your last request, he wasn’t expecting you to be stopping him.

“I wanna be on top,” you pressed on his shoulder thinking he’d roll over just as easily.

But Joel just laughed at you and shook his head. He pulled out to the tip and then rolled his hips forward back into you. However, you pushed on his chest again, more insistent this time. Joel caught one of your wrists in his hand and pinned it down by your head.

“Why not?”

“‘Cause you’re gonna go too fast and we’re havin’ a moment,”

You glared playfully at him. If he wasn’t going to let you do it off the bat, you knew you could play harder. Lifting your head off the pillow, you nipped at his jaw, making your slow way to his neck, where you dragged your tongue over his jugular. “I want to ride you… pretty please?” You suckled on his neck and let out an airy whimper, “wanna feel you all the way up in my stomach. Feel you…”

Joel cut you off with a well-placed arm around your back and he carefully flipped you both over without slipping out of you. Victorious, you wiggled your hips, drilling him into you to the hilt.

“Don’t get too cocky. I would’ve come if you said rearrange your guts, so really I did you a favor,”

You rolled your eyes and set your hands on his chest, using the leverage to roll your hips back and forth along his length. You’d play by his rules. You’d go slow and let the moment continue. You wouldn’t try to ride him within an inch of his life just for the heck of it. Shit, you weren’t far off of your next orgasm when he was on top of you. Now you knew your time on top of him was finite.

He kept his hands on your hips as if he wasn’t sure you’d comply with him. Like he’d have to use every remaining ounce of strength to keep you moving how he wanted you to. But on top of him, able to fully harness the friction against your clit you’d been searching for, it wasn’t hard to want to comply. You could get everything your wanted and more. So as your movements kept him deep, and your anatomy clung and pulled at him, you neared another orgasm with haste.

You thought he could feel it coming. You were sure he could. The grin on his face was either because he knew your climax was imminent, or because his was. Either way, it seemed like a good time to you. Your head bowed forward, chin dropping to your chest, and your body stiffened. Everything stopped for you as you tried to fight it off. To make it last a little while longer. But the ever-present grip Joel had on your hips tightened. Fingers squeezed your supple flesh. And he thrust up into you with power you weren’t sure he’d be able to get at this angle.

The orgasm crashed into you and you were only half-aware of the filth coming out of Joel’s mouth. The words, despite being completely debauched, seemed almost normal now. The only thing that caught you was how his expression twisted when you clenched down on him. How his fingers flexed around your hip. And how he then pushed you down on him, making it impossible for you to wriggle away as he came inside you.

You collapsed down against his chest, breathing in as much fresh air as you could get into his lungs. A thin sheen of sweat covered his neck and chest but you couldn’t have cared any less to lay your cheek against it. As your breathing began to even out, you felt one of Joel’s hands wrap around your backside and reach for his member. He eased himself out of you, humming to match the groan you let out.

It wasn’t the time to think about it, but you couldn’t get your mind off the thought of how long you’d get to keep Joel out here. If he’d stay with you a few days. Maybe a week. How were you ever going to leave your sister in a lurch, without help, if you returned back home. Home to Texas.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Despite having showered before sex, both you and Joel showered again after it. Bound to go back to your sister’s. But you were already back in bed waiting for him, while Joel rustled through his duffle bag in search of a clean shirt and pair of jeans. He’d already asked you in the shower what that funny look on your face was all about. But you’d told him it was nothing, and though he didn’t particularly like that answer, he didn’t press it at the time.

Now as he glanced over at you on the bed and saw the same look on your face, he figured he’d try again. “Spooked?”

You flicked your eyes over at him, “no. Just thinking about how I’m gonna have to leave her here with him.”

Joel nodded and slid a navy blue shirt over his head. “You can stay here as long as you need,” he tilted his head to the side. “I mean, you don’t have to rush home for me. I’m not goin’ anywhere,”

You nodded as he neared with a pair of jeans in his hands. He sat on the edge of the bed beside you and leaned in for a quick kiss. It was there and gone in a flash. Replaced by the feeling of his hand on your thigh.

“I know this is a weird thing to bring up but I feel like we should talk about it before we get too deep into this thing and it gets brutal or mes–”

“I hate this preface,” you mumbled, searching his face for any indication of what this apparently uncomfortable conversation was going to be.

“Do you want kids?” He caught your widening eyes and gripped into your thigh a little tighter as if to keep you both grounded in reality. “I can’t give you any, ‘cause you know… snipped. And before you say it’s reversible or anything, I don’t want to get it reversed.”

“I wasn’t going to say it’s reversible,” you pressed a smile.

“Well…” he took a breath. “I just don’t want to get too far into this if the answer is yes because then I won’t be able to give you what you want. And you deserve that… if you want it,”

“I don’t know. I haven’t met a man that I could see myself having kids with,”

“But what if that’s me?”

“It won’t be.” Off his shocked expression, you reached forward too and set your own hand on his leg, “I mean, if seeing myself with you means no kids, then that’s not even an option to consider if I see myself with you. It’s like you being young… it’s not an option,”

Joel smirked and raised his hands to your ribs to tickle you, “that was kinda mean.”

You nudged his hands away from you and leaned in instead, resting yourself against his chest. “Right now, at this moment, I’d rather have you and nothing than a sub-par husband and a kid,”

“I didn’t say nothin’ about getting married. The vasectomy got nothin’ to do with that,”

“We’ll see how it goes. No pressure. Y’know ‘cause in fifteen years you might be a real pain in my ass,” you winked.

He tackled you down to the bed and smothered your neck and face with endless kisses until you were laughing hysterically.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

The following days passed slowly. For the first time in a long time, you were happy about that. Time wasn’t flying by before your very eyes. You had time to relish Joel. To be continually stunned by him every time he stepped up to do something for your nephew that your sister’s husband should’ve been doing. There was time to lounge and talk. To play around. To be told by an older woman in the grocery store that “you and your husband have made the cutest little boy”.

And when his flight home came a few days later, you drove him to the airport and clutched at his sweater with every ounce of strength you had. Told him you didn’t know when you’d be home, but it would be soon. And he didn’t ask you to clarify. Didn’t ask if that meant in a couple days, a week, or a month. Just cupped his hands over your cheeks and nodded. Told you it was okay. Trusted that you’d come home when you were ready to.

That only took about a week. One more week of watching your brother-in-law sit on his ass while you helped raise his child. You broke the news to your sister and she did her best to hide her fear and pain. You did your best to hide yours, too. On the way out, you also left her with some words of encouragement. To not let him sit on his ass. To force him to take an active role. And if he couldn’t, then to get the fuck out. Though she nodded and said she would, you knew she’d always stick around and be left unsatisfied.

Joel had told you to let him know when you were coming home. That he’d pick you up from the airport. But you decided to let him off the hook. To handle your own business and call an Uber to scoop you up.

He was in your front yard, mowing the lawn when you showed up. He let the gas engine rumble to a stop when the car pulled up. Stood, watching you, with his hands on his hips as you rounded to the trunk of your car and lifted out your suitcase though the driver came around to help you. You murmured an “I got it” to him and Joel found it endearing. How you said that to him on the first day you moved into the neighborhood and put up such a fight at his insistence to help. What he’d learn later, and what this sad Uber driver would never get the chance to learn, is that you were all bark and no bite.

You rolled your suitcase over the curb and let it fall to the half-cut grass. Got up in front of Joel and smirked at him, “you’re mowing my lawn?”

He smiled back. Much more pleasant. “Yeah. It was so long, it was bringing down my property value. You’re a bad neighbor,”

“Yeah,” you shifted your gaze to the grass momentarily. “Maybe I’ll be a better girlfriend,”

A red flush crept up over Joel’s cheeks. He nodded as if he was sure of it. “Probably not,”

Your jaw dropped and you slapped his chest playfully.

Joel caught your hands and held them against him. He leaned in for a kiss. Something rather chaste, but he inhaled to take you in before he stood back up. With a nod in the direction of his house, he smiled again, “go on to the house. I got a fresh pot of coffee goin’.”

“I want to shower,”

“Shower there. I got clothes,”

You pointed at your suitcase, “I have laundry.”

“I’ll bring it in. Go on.” He nodded again in the direction of his home, “I’ll meet you there after I finish up here,”

You relented and made off for his home after one more kiss. Before you’d even fully crossed the street, you heard his old push mower roar back to life. With his front door unlocked, you stepped inside and came face to face with a vase full of fresh cut flowers on the table in the entryway. Like he’d been expecting you the whole time.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #the one you need

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celtrist · 6 hours ago

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This was a planned thing I had around the time I had this little rant (appreciate everyone who's bothered reading that thank you!)

Seeing as we have three canonically Asexual characters, I thought each of them having a different romantic orientation (and varying asexuality on the scale) would be fun and neat to show the variations to the orientations! But I was really stumped on Mammon since I was pretty set on Alastor and Octavia, but Mammon not being any form of aromantic didn't feel right, not terribly ooc, just definitely felt a bit more like "he's the leftovers" sort of thing when divvying up the romantic orientations. But lo and behold, the new episode of Helluva came out and helped solved that little quandrie. So here are my thoughts below on each!

Alastor (Loveless Aromantic) If you've seen my rant, you probably have a good idea why I labeled him as a "loveless aromantic" (meaning in this sense I'm talking about, he just wouldn't have any form of romantic affections or go into something like a QPR or the like). And I do genuinely think he would be! But I know there's A LOT of bias for Alastor NOT being aromantic (or at least open to some sort of relationship), and I will admit I might've been a bit biased here too! I've just seen a lot of love for only specific parts of the aro spectrum that "allows" Alastor to get with someone, and I wanted to give some love to the aro spectrum that gets little to no appreciation (plus I do just genuinely think he'd be this). If you don't agree, all is fair ദ്ദി（• ˕ •マ.ᐟ The point is, I realize I'm probably in the minority here. Plus, it's all a guessing game more or less until something is officially stated, which probably will never happen for any of these three.

Anyway, like I said, I just don't see Alastor really getting as close to anyone even as a QPR. At the VERY LEAST, not in a QPR that has a lot of romantic parts to it (kissing on the lips, cuddling, etc.). My man wouldn't have any interest in marriage or anything romantic, he's very happy on his own and probably gossips about OTHER people's love lives. Then again, he seemed pretty close to cracking when he heard Charlie ranting about her own love life... With that said, I do think he DOES like the company of others, he's VERY social after all. But actually, getting intimate with someone? Mmm, that doesn't feel right for him to me. A kiss on the cheek or PERHAPS a cuddle here and there at most, but nothing like bathing with someone or kissing with tongue. He's also a man of the roaring twenties, so you KNOW how he thinks about intimacies that might have no romantic/sexual connotations by themselves (like bathing with someone) are romantic on their own just because being that close to someone was seen that way in his time. Plus again, I just don't think he'd be interested in that stuff as is (potentially he could be both touch-starved and touch-aversed. And oh boy, wouldn't that be a conundrum!) On one hand, I like and can see Alastor being sex-repulsed, on the other I can also see him just feeling nothing towards it. Considering Angel's "advances" in both the first episode and the pilot, he does have a bit of a strong reaction towards sex, but nothing crazy either. I can see him being lukewarm to the subject (so he could read a book or read a script out loud with sex in it), but he could be repulsed when it actually INVOLVES HIM. I can definitely see him somewhat annoyed with the subject for how everywhere it is though.

Octavia (QPR Aromantic) It's a little hard to pinpoint, but I can personally see Octavia getting into a close QPR sooner than Alastor, but maaayybe only be a hair. Octavia could possibly get into a platonic relationship with someone that would have remnants of seeming romantic. I do think she's probably the most sex-repulsed of the three, if in part because of her father's inclinations that he doesn't seem to hide even when she's around. Honestly, I feel like we still haven't seen enough of her to get a good grasp on this aspect of her character in if she would be interested in getting as close as to a QPR with someone. But I'd certainly like to think so, because damn does our girl need it. Her falling into some sort of relationship would probably be hard seeing as how her parents' relationship was so awful. So she could be hesitant about doing something like that.

Mammon He was the big toughy! And while his advances on Leviathan might have been meant in a more platonic way or just for show to go against Ozzy's and Bee's romantic relations, I'm going with what's there! So Mammon seems like he could be straight or bi/pan. But I don't have a hard grasp on which so I'm tossing that in the air. I don't think he'd be sex-repulsed just because of how "sex makes money". Like, there's no question that sex appeal is a big part of business even if something isn't even that sexual. So while I think he's not largely interested in doing anything sexual, I can see him being okay or even lukewarm to the subject, maybe just not getting the appeal entirely. Maaaayybe he's sex-favorable? Of the three I would imagine he would be the most likely to be sex-favorable, but I dunno.

I like the idea of Octavia being the only one aware as to what her orientations are. Alastor is... well he's Alastor, and Mammon doesn't seem like he'd be too interested in the details of things. Just that "there's straight, gay, and the between area".

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lovecla · 2 days ago

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FAKE IT ‘TILL YOU MAKE IT, phase one:

➴ chapter warnings: none!!

➴ word count: 2.1k

💌 from me to you: i heard it’s thanksgiving in the us so happy thanksgiving to all of you!! thank u so much for all the love in part one, but here’s where the fun really begins. also, thank u for the 500 reblogs <3 i love u all so much and i’m thankful for all of u. 🤍

𖧷

emmaroberts

Newark, New Jersey

liked by nicohischier, dawson1417, ninahischier and 603 others

emmaroberts night out :)

View all 30 comments

user1 it’s so funny to me how the hischiers always like emma’s pics like they love her 😭

miaturner YOURE SO FINE HELP HELP HELP CALL THE COPS

emmaroberts miaturner mia you’re mentally challenged but i love you a lot

user2 it’s not even been five minutes since she’s posted and nico’s already in the likes

user3 user2 and so is nina so???? your point??

tmeier96 Why was I not invited 😢

emmaroberts tmeier96 next time we’ll call you promise

user4 ok. have u guys seen nico’s story

user5 user4 omg yes do you think they were dining together

user6 user5 user4 it wouldn’t be THAT much of a surprise bc they’ve been friends for AGES

user4 user6 you’re right i guess 🤷‍♂️

𖧷

nicohischier and emmaroberts added a new story!

𖧷

THE FLORAL perfume you had chosen for the night was bothering you, yet you had no one to blame but that one lady at Sephora who offered you a huge deal and made you buy it even if you didn’t like it that much.

Realistically speaking, you knew that the perfume wasn’t really the issue here. You were nervous about this whole fake-dating thing, even if you’d been your idea to begin with.

Lying and faking things weren’t really your deal. As a child, you’d always get in trouble because you could never lie properly. Growing up, you also faced your own problems because you can’t lie.

But you really want to help Nico.

Tonight’s Luke’s 21st birthday, and you had been invited to his little birthday dinner, a small celebration with people from his team and close friends, which included you. Although, you’re going more as a plus one than a friend, but Luke doesn’t need to know that.

A knock on your bedroom door has you turning your head around, facing Nico as he leans on the door frame and crosses his arms in front of you.

“You look nice,” he compliments you, and you smile, putting your arms behind you.

“Thanks. So do you.”

“So,” he claps his hands, sighing. “Are we ready? What’s the game plan for today?”

You take a deep breath, mentally repeating the “plan” you’ve been working on.

“Okay, this is what we’re going to do tonight, and Nico, you have to take this really seriously or else—”

“You sound really scary right now—”

“Nico.”

“Okay,” he pouts. “Go ahead.”

“All of your teammates are going to be there tonight and if anyone is going to help us fool Nora Ellis, it’s them,” you walk around the room, moving your hands as you explain your thoughts. “If we make ‘em believe that we are very much in love and together, then we’ll be safe.”

“That will be kind of hard,” he shrugs. “We’ve been friends for a while and we’re close but… I don’t know.”

“Nico,” you step closer, standing in front of him. “For this lie to work, you have to believe it. We have to believe it. It’s the only way we’ll be able to make this work.”

He whistles. “You know a lot for someone who can’t lie to save her life and started crying when I asked you if you had turned my jerseys pink when you decided that washing them with Nina’s pink shirt was a good idea.”

You roll your eyes and bite your lips, trying to hide your smile. “I just read tons of books.”

“When was the last time you—”

“This isn’t relevant right now!” you point your finger at him. “What’s relevant is: we need to make your teammates believe we’re together and in love. Think you can make it?”

Nico smirks, poking your cheek with his finger.

“When have I ever backed out of a challenge?”

“You’ve been around Jack for too much time, you’re getting too cocky,” you joke, crossing your arms. “So, the second part of your plan: PDA, pet names and touching.”

“Go on, little genius.”

“Lots of touching,” you say, feeling your cheeks get warm as you emphasize the word lots, making you want to look elsewhere. You don’t. “Lots of PDA and I guess we can squeeze some pet names in there too.”

“What?” he chuckles. “Want me to call you baby? Sweetheart?”

You spend the next five seconds forcing your face to remain red-less and your heart to stop beating so fucking fast— you were afraid Nico might hear it, considering how close you were and how fast it was going.

Gulping, you continue. “I don’t want anything,” you mumble. “I just think it’ll work.”

“Then we’re fine,” he claps again, moving his hair around. “Do we need to discuss something else?”

You look at the watch on your wrist and click your tongue.

“We don’t have time, we have to leave now,” you walk towards your bed and grab your purse, your phone and your wallet. “We can talk more in the car.”

“Lead the way, baby.”

Oh God, you think as you hear Nico’s laugh and comments about how fun this is all going to be, what have I done?

𖧷

“OKAY, AND remember, we started dating a month ago but we kept it super lowkey,” you remind Nico as you walk by his side towards the restaurant Luke chose for the night. “I hate lobster, you hate pop music.”

“I don’t hate it—”

“Strongly dislike,” you smile, before looking down, where Nico had just slipped his hand and intertwined both of your hands together.

Right. You’re dating.

Entering the fancy place, you felt Nico’s body close to yours, and you tried your hardest to keep your cool. You were used to being close to him but not in this way, not like this—

“Hischier!” Jack shouts across the room and you almost want to knock him out with your own two hands for yelling like this and drawing everyone’s attention to you and Nico. “And… Emma?”

It was almost comical how grown men looked interested in your hands together, and how many smiles you could see directed at both of you. Your grip on Nico’s hand tightened without you even realizing it did, and you smiled politely at Luke and the rest of the Devils.

Nico let go of your hand for a second before shaking hands with Luke, wishing him a happy birthday like an old grandpa.

“Hey, Emma, thanks for coming.” Luke hugs you briefly, barely touching you, and you grin.

“Happy birthday, Lukey.”

“Emma!” Mia, one of your best friends, shouts and gets up, running to you. She hugs you tightly, and you hug her back, happy to see her again after weeks. “I didn’t know you were coming! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I forgot,” you lie, feeling your cheeks getting warm. Mia looks at you like a human lie detector and you can tell she sees right through your bullshit but, happily, she doesn’t say anything else. “Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. Ella’s here, too.”

You look around and try to find Ella, smiling when you see her sitting beside Luke, quietly speaking to one of the wives sitting beside her.

“I’ll talk to her later.” You reply.

You and Nico spend the next five minutes greeting the other people there, the rest of the players and some of the girlfriends before finally sitting down by Jack’s side— per his request, you must say. Nico’s hands immediately found yours as you placed them on top of the table, before grabbing the menu and smiling at you, brown eyes full of mischief.

“What do you want to eat, baby?”

Before you could even think of what to say, Jack’s loud and annoying laugh filled the table. “I fucking knew it! Hamilton, you owe me a hundred bucks!”

“Oh, man,” Hamilton sighs as he picks up his phone. “Couldn’t you guys keep hiding your relationship for a little bit more?”

“W-What do you mean?” you ask, looking at him before looking at Jack again.

“Dougie and I made a bet: if you made your relationship public by the end of the year, I’d win,” Jack starts, and you can tell how proud he is. “But if you didn’t, he’d win. Thankfully, I know my man here always gets my back.” He cheers, slapping Nico’s shoulder.

“You’re such a fucking child, Hughes.” Mia hisses before looking at you, clearly asking you why you hadn’t told her before.

“Shut up, princess. Now,” he grins. “My money, Dougie.”

You stare at them in disbelief, while Nico puts on his best performance and squeezes your hands together, smiling like he had just been caught eating snacks before lunch.

“Sorry, guys. We were just waiting for the right time,” he explains, and he sounds so natural you have to remind yourself to keep your surprise hidden. “Didn’t want to be like you and rush things.”

“Oh, screw you,” Jack laughs. “We all knew. You’re not slick.”

They kept talking while you tried to hide the fact that the things they were saying made no sense. Because you and Nico have never been close, romantically speaking. Sure, you’re friends, best friends if you want to go that way, but dating?

And, okay, you’re used to people thinking you’re together, because apparently a guy and a girl can’t be friends anymore, but this? The fact that they were sure of your “relationship” with Nico, sure enough to bet? This is surreal.

“Did you choose already?” Nico whispers to you, and you look at him with wide eyes. You don’t answer, trying to find the right things to say so you don’t screw up everything. “Baby? Are you okay?”

You nod, blinking a few times before staring at the menu in Nico’s hand again. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I think I’ll get the Caesar Burger, please.”

“Great choice.” He smiles at you, before telling your orders to the waiter.

You thought that your biggest concern here would be Nico, but in reality, it’s going to be you. You can’t really deal with too much attention on you, that’s why you’ve been keeping yourself in the shadows for this long— Hockey players can be loud and invasive sometimes, and you’d rather hang out with their kids or parents, because they won’t ask questions you don’t want to answer.

“So,” Timo starts, sipping on his beer and resting his chin on his hands, looking like a goddamn school girl. “What made you decide it was finally time? Sie ist ein hübsches Mädchen, Nico.”

Nico looks at you, smiling. “Ja, ist sie,” he nods, and even if you have no idea of what they’re talking about, you smile too, because Nico’s smile makes you want to smile. “And, I don’t know, man. If you had a girl who looked like this,” he points at you with his head. “Would you want to hide her?”

“Nico, he won’t ever get a girl like Emma,” Dougie laughs before getting shoved by Timo. “Ouch.”

“Well, I think it’s nice you guys are finally out.” Palat’s wife says, making you smile and rest your head on Nico’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” you say, sweetening your voice to the max. “I think we were just trying to understand where we stood before, y’know, letting everyone know.”

“How did the Hischiers take it?” Mia asks, looking extra curious. “I bet Nina was happy.” Like I would’ve been if you had told me sooner, she mouths, making you cringe. Sorry, you mouth back.

“They took it well,” you lie through your teeth, squeezing Nico’s arm more than you probably should. “And Nina is just glad her sister-in-law isn’t a Hockey obsessed girl.”

People laugh and you can’t help but feel you had just gotten your approval from Nico's friends.

Nico changes the topic of the conversation, moving back to Luke, the star of the night, and you’re glad for it. You eat side by side with him, you laugh at his jokes, you’re constantly touching him, as he’s constantly touching you.

“We should go out some time,” Mia says, casually, like she doesn’t mean anything by it. “Y’know, catch up.”

“Like anyone would willingly choose to spend a day with you.” Jack bickers, and Mia rolls her eyes at him.

“Go fuck yourself, Hughes.”

“Hey, guys,” Luke yells from the other corner of the table. “You promised you’d be nice to each other today. It’s my birthday.”

“I said no such thing—”

“You can’t even hear what we’re saying—” They both say at the same time.

“Jack and Mia. Shut. Up.” Luke says and they both pout while they shut up.

“It’s so funny because they’re much more alike than they think.” You whisper to Nico, smiling as he places his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly.

“They sure are, baby.”

It all seems so… natural. It’s weird and unsettling, but you’re fine with it as long as it helps people buy your lie. Also, the feeling of Nico’s heavy hand on your thigh isn’t really unpleasant.

The rest of the evening flies by and when you notice, it’s time for you to leave. You almost don’t want to, for the first time, happy to spend time with the players.

“D’you think they bought it?” You ask when you’re away from the guys and the restaurant. Your hands are still together but none of you notice it.

“I think they did,” he chuckles. “Actually, it was a lot easier than I was expecting.”

None of you address the fact that they already thought you were dating, though.

“Yeah,” you whisper, looking at your heels. “Phase one is complete, then.”

“I like how seriously you’re taking this,” he says, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to look down at you, dimples on display for the whole world to see. Yet, you were the only one watching them right now. “Thank you. Truly.”

You smile, standing on the tip of your toes and giving him a light, brief kiss on the cheek, as you’re used to doing.

“You’re welcome.”

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emo-toaster · 3 days ago

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Okay, since chapter 6 of my beauty and the Beast fic isn't out yet, I wanna make it up to you!

✦————————————————————————————————————————✦

No warnings. Just fluff Headcanons

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Gyutaro - Dating Headcanons ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

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╰┈➤ It takes him quite a while to get used to the new relationship dynamics you have. He's overthinking a lot and doesn't know what to do at first. Trust me tho, when he gets the hang of it, finally, he'll be the sweetest boyfriend he can be. He'll sure try!

╰┈➤ Gyutaro will take anyone who shows him genuine affection and care. Male, Female, Non-binary, it doesn't matter. He's simply happy to have you.

╰┈➤ Gyutaro is usually the big spoon, occasionally he'll be the little spoon, it makes him feel better. Like he doesn't have to be the one to deal with every problem all the time, finally rest and be vulnerable.

╰┈➤ If you have long hair, he'll brush it and braid it. He used to do the same thing for Daki back when they were human, and it brings him comfort. He'll be over the moon if you do the same for him. Gyutaro is pretty touch-starved, so when your fingers go through his hair, brushing it, braiding... he'll melt.

╰┈➤ He isn't fond of mirrors. Even though he learned to be proud of his ugliness at some point, he's like that only with other people around. When he's alone, he truly hates his appearance. He'll often doubt himself, wondering if he even deserves you and all the good things that happened to him so far. Gyutaro will then claw at himself, muttering insults and curses directed at himself, well, at least until you find him and get him busy with cuddling with you instead. He'll need a lot of comfort and reassurance from you, but eventually he'll feel better.

╰┈➤ Expect a lot of random gifts from him. Pretty rocks, flowers, hairpins, sweets or anything he'll find good enough will go straight into your hands. Gyutaro will make sure that everything he brings makes you happy, so overtime he's gonna bring more and more stuff that you may like and find useful. Favourite sweets, accessories that go well with your favourite pieces of clothing, random trinkets in your favourite colour. Gyutaro will make sure to pay attention to your preferences.

╰┈➤ There will be a lot of learning, that's for sure. Gyutaro grew up poor and unlike his sister he didn't get great education afterwards. He can read and write alright, but his handwriting is pretty wonky and looks like chicken scratch, he makes hiragana and katakana characters look complicated or unrecognisable— he'll need help with reading too, he can read kanji of course, but it takes him a good minute or two to remember it's meaning.

╰┈➤ Since Gyutaro and his sister reside in the entertainment district of Yoshiwara, your dear demon boyfriend will make sure that no-one bothers you, and if they do...well, he'll take care of them alright. He's very protective of you and his sister, so anyone who messes with you or her will get the same treatment.

╰┈➤ It took a while for Daki to finally accept you. She wasn't very fond of you at the begging, but she grew to tolerate you. She doesn't see you as an equal tho, but she doesn't see any human as such, so it's nothing to worry about. Daki is acting pretty nice around you actually, putting on the sweet facade she also uses in the presence of Kyogoku House's owner. She'll keep all the nasty things she has to say to herself. At the bottom of her heart she is happy that her brother found someone for himself, and she doesn't necessarily want to ruin it.

╰┈➤ Gyutaro will ask you to become a demon. Once in a while he'll bring it up in a conversation, asking if you'd want that. If you refuse, he'll just ask you another time, but if you agree, he'll be more happy to give you his blood so you can join him and his sister.

╰┈➤ He probably doesn't have fleas anymore! Probably.

╰┈➤ It's very surprising, but from time to time Gyutaro tries to show off, prove that's he's good enough for you. He knows he isn't handsome, so if he's not gonna be the good-looking boyfriend, he'll be the strong one. Gyutaro will show off his strength a lot, at some point he'll also want to teach you about fighting with his sickles if you're willing to try. Gyutaro enjoys fighting, it's the first thing he was actually good at, so doing something related to it with you will bring him a lot of joy.

╰┈➤ He's pretty shy if it comes to kissing, but he'll try to be more confident for you. Just be patient with him, he still has so much to learn.

╰┈➤ It's not a surprise, but you're actually his first partner. Back when he was human people wouldn't go near him if possible, after he became a Demon people were even more terrified of him, so it's truly a miracle that he has you with him now.

╰┈➤ If you have a bit of a tummy, then there's nothing to worry about! Gyutaro will be very happy about that, after all it means that you're eating well and you don't go to sleep with an empty stomach. It makes him glad, knowing that you don't have to worry about the same hunger he felt so many times as a human. Besides, he'll love to lay his head on your stomach during your cuddling sessions.

╰┈➤ If you like painting your nails, he'll do it with you. Gyutaro has naturally dark nails ever since he became a demon, so if you like having black nail polish on, it will make him feel great. After all, you two now match! Any other colour will be fine too, but he's still more comfortable with darker shades.

╰┈➤ Well, Gyutaro never had the greatest hygiene, but for you'll he'll try his best. He likes when you take care of it tho, he can then do the same for you afterwards and it brings him comfort.

╰┈➤ he likes listening to your talking. You can yap about anything to him for hours and he'll just sit there with a dumb grin on his face, happy to learn more about your interest or the topics you like.

╰┈➤ Gyutaro doesn't have to sleep since he's a Demon, but from time to time he'll happily take a nap with you, and he'll definitely enjoy it.

╰┈➤ Once, when there was a spider in the room and you asked him to take care of it... he ate the damn spider. After that you begged him to never do that again, and now he just throws them out or kills with one of his sickles.

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#silly stuff #demon slayer #kny #gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #headcanon #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyutaro headcanons

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scarletwinterxx · 14 hours ago

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ddaddu series #1 - choi seungcheol dadverse au

hellooo ~ i said i think a week ago i wrote a new dad fic... and yes it's w the one and the only choi seungcheol😅 he's just screaaams dad girl so here we are. this is definetely one of longest i've written in a while. I was up all night and it took a few days to finish all of this so i hope you like it! and let me know if i should make more....

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pic not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Seungcheol burst through your front door, not even bothering to knock, looking slightly frazzled and out of breath. You were sitting on the living room floor with Areum, helping her color in a princess-themed coloring book, when he made his dramatic entrance.

"What's going on?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as Areum looked up, wide-eyed at her dad's sudden arrival.

"Daddy!" Areum exclaimed, abandoning her crayons and running over to hug him. He scooped her up with a brief smile but quickly turned his attention to you.

"I need your help," he said, his voice low and urgent.

You blinked, confused by his tone. "Help with what? Are you in trouble?"

"Yes," he replied immediately, setting Areum back down and stepping closer to you. "Big trouble. The boys are trying to set me up on a blind date, and I need an alibi."

"So, let me get this straight. Your *big trouble* is a blind date?" you stared at him for a moment, your lips twitching as you try not to laugh

"It's not funny," he protested, running a hand through his hair "Jeonghan and Joshua have been hounding me about it for weeks, and now they've gone and actually arranged something. They told the girl I was available. *Available!* Can you believe that?"

"Well..." you started, unable to keep the teasing tone out of your voice. "You *are* technically available, Seungcheol. You're single, remember?"

He narrowed his eyes at you, clearly unamused. "That's not the point. I don't want to go."

"Then just say no?" you suggested, shrugging

"They won’t take no for an answer! They’ll guilt-trip me into going somehow. You know how they are." He sighed, flopping onto your couch like a man defeated. "That's why I need you to help me. Pretend I’m busy. Say we’ve got plans. Something—anything—to get me out of this."

"And why would I do that?" confused, you ask him

"Because..." He paused, looking genuinely desperate now. "You’re my only hope."

Before you could respond, Areum piped up, her little voice curious. "Daddy, what's a 'blind date'?"

Seungcheol winced, glancing at you for help. You smirked, not about to let him off the hook that easily. "Oh, it's when someone goes out with a stranger to see if they like each other," you explained casually. "Your dad's friends think he needs a girlfriend."

Areum's eyes went wide. "A girlfriend? But Daddy doesn't need a girlfriend. He has Mommy!"

Both you and Seungcheol froze at her innocent declaration, and then your cheeks flushed. You quickly looked away, focusing on the coloring book in front of you.

Seungcheol, on the other hand, seemed to perk up at Areum’s words.

"See?" he said, pointing at her as if she'd just made his case. "Even Areum agrees. I don’t need a girlfriend." as if his five year old's daughter is the only thing making sense right now.

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile.

"Fine," you relented. "What exactly do you want me to say to get you out of this?"

"Anything!" he said quickly, leaning forward. "Just tell them we’re doing something together this weekend. A family thing. They'll back off if they think I'm spending time with you and Areum."

"You're so dramatic," you muttered, shaking your head. "But okay, I'll help you. This time."

"Thank you. You’re a lifesaver." he grinned, looking ridiculously pleased with himself.

"Yeah, yeah," you said, waving him off. "But you owe me for this."

"Deal," he said without hesitation, standing up and pulling Areum into his arms. "You hear that, princess? Daddy’s off the hook, thanks to Mommy."

Areum giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You're silly, Daddy."

Seungcheol laughed, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Yeah, I am. But don’t tell uncle Jeonghan and uncle Joshua that, okay? It’s our little secret."

As he left your apartment, looking far more relaxed than when he’d arrived, you couldn’t help but shake your head at the whole situation. Seungcheol, despite all his bravado, could be such a dork sometimes.

Still, there was a small, unexpected warmth in your chest as you watched him leave. Even after everything, he always seemed to find his way back to you. No matter what excuse he needed to make it happen.

Later that evening, Seungcheol was sitting at home, blissfully unaware that his “alibi” plan was about to backfire. He had just finished putting Areum to bed when his phone buzzed on the coffee table. Picking it up, he saw Jeonghan’s name on the screen.

He answered with a suspicious, “Hello?”

“You sneaky little liar,” Jeonghan’s voice greeted him, half-amused and half-accusing. “You could’ve just said no, you know.”

Seungcheol’s stomach dropped. “What are you talking about?”

“*What am I talking about?* Oh, just the fact that we got a call from *her.*” Jeonghan’s emphasis on the word *her* was enough to make Seungcheol’s heart skip a beat.

“Her?” Seungcheol played dumb, even though he knew exactly who Jeonghan meant.

“Your lovely *ex-wife,*” Jeonghan said, clearly enjoying this. “She called to tell us you’re busy this weekend because you’re spending time with her and Areum. Ring any bells?”

Seungcheol groaned, rubbing his face. “She wasn’t supposed to actually call you! She was just supposed to tell me to tell you—”

“Well, she called anyway,” Jeonghan interrupted, snickering. “And let me just say, it was a very enlightening conversation. Joshua and I were on speakerphone with her, by the way.”

“Oh, great,” Seungcheol muttered, already dreading what was coming next

“She sounded so sweet, too,” Joshua chimed in, suddenly joining the call. “Told us you’d be having a family day. Said you were a great dad and how nice it was that you prioritized Areum.”

“I am a great dad,” Seungcheol defended, even though he knew where this was going

“And then,” Jeonghan continued, his voice dripping with mischief, “she thanked us for ‘understanding.’ Understanding *what,* Seungcheol? That you’re still hopelessly hung up on her?”

“I’m not hung up on her!” Seungcheol snapped, though his face was burning

“Oh, please,” Jeonghan said, laughing now. “You *ran* to her to avoid going on a blind date. If that doesn’t scream ‘still in love with my ex,’ I don’t know what does.”

“It’s not like that,” Seungcheol argued, even though he could hear how weak his own defense sounded

“Then what’s it like?” Joshua asked innocently, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer

Seungcheol sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I didn’t want to go on the date, and it was the only way I could think of okay? That’s all it was.”

“Sure,” Jeonghan said, drawing the word out. “And the fact that you still wear your wedding ring sometimes doesn’t mean anything either, right?”

“I don’t—” Seungcheol started to protest, but Joshua cut him off.

“And the fact that you’re always making excuses to hang out with her and Areum? Totally not suspicious.”

“Or how about how you still call her whenever something important happens?” Jeonghan added. “Like that time you got promoted, and the *first* person you told wasn’t us, but *her.*”

“Okay, enough!” Seungcheol snapped, though he couldn’t deny any of it. He slumped back on the couch, glaring at the ceiling. “You two are insufferable.”

“Maybe,” Jeonghan said, clearly enjoying this. “But we’re not wrong, are we?”

There was a long pause, and for once, Seungcheol didn’t have a quick comeback. Instead, he muttered, “I’m hanging up now,” and ended the call before they could say anything else.

As he set his phone down, Seungcheol sighed heavily. He hated how well Jeonghan and Joshua knew him. Hated how they could see right through him, even when he tried to deny it.

But most of all, he hated that they were right. Because no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise, he wasn’t over you.

Not even close.

The next weekend, Seungcheol found himself being herded into a bar by Jeonghan, Joshua, and a few other friends. He hadn’t wanted to come, he’d rather be home with Areum or even by himself but Jeonghan had been persistent, and Seungcheol didn’t have the energy to argue.

“Come on, Cheol,” Jeonghan said, throwing an arm around his shoulders as they walked inside. “You’ve been way too uptight lately. A night out is exactly what you need.”

Seungcheol grunted in response, scanning the bar. It was packed with people, the music loud enough to make casual conversation impossible. He could already feel the headache forming.

“I’ll get us a table,” Joshua said, disappearing into the crowd

As they settled into a corner booth, Jeonghan smirked and gestured toward a group of women near the bar. “What about them? Think any of them would catch your eye, Cheol?”

Seungcheol shot him a glare. “Not interested.”

“Oh, come on,” Jeonghan teased. “You can’t stay hung up on—”

“I said I’m not interested,” Seungcheol interrupted, his tone sharper than he intended

Jeonghan raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. No need to bite my head off.”

But Jeonghan being Jeonghan, he didn’t let it drop. When the women eventually came over, clearly encouraged by Jeonghan and Joshua, Seungcheol’s discomfort was palpable

“Hi,” one of the women said, flashing him a bright smile. “I’m Hyejin. And you are?”

“Not interested,” Seungcheol muttered, taking a sip of his drink without meeting her gaze.

Her smile faltered, but she didn’t give up. “Oh, come on. You’re way too handsome to be sitting here brooding all night.”

Joshua tried to suppress a laugh while Jeonghan nudged him under the table, grinning like the devil himself.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Seungcheol said, still avoiding eye contact.

“Don’t mind him,” Jeonghan said, ever the instigator. “He’s just shy.”

Seungcheol glared at Jeonghan. “I’m not shy.”

“Then talk to her,” Jeonghan challenged, a mischievous glint in his eye

“I don’t want to,” Seungcheol snapped, standing up abruptly. “I’m getting some air.”

As he walked away, Jeonghan burst into laughter. “I swear, he’s worse than a teenager with a crush.”

Outside, Seungcheol leaned against the cool brick wall, letting out a heavy sigh. He didn’t know why he’d let the guys drag him out in the first place. This wasn’t his scene anymore.

He pulled out his phone and instinctively opened your messages. There was a picture you’d sent earlier that day of Areum holding up a crayon drawing of the two of you with her in the middle. She’d written “My Famly” in bright, messy letters at the top.

He smiled to himself, his thumb hovering over the call button.

Before he could make a decision, the door to the bar opened, and Joshua stepped outside, a knowing look on his face. “Thought I’d find you out here.”

“Not in the mood,” Seungcheol muttered, putting his phone away.

Joshua leaned against the wall next to him, crossing his arms. “You know, Jeonghan’s just messing with you. He knows you’re still into her.”

“I’m not—”

“Cheol.” Joshua cut him off with a pointed look. “We’ve known you for years. Don’t even try to deny it.”

Seungcheol sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter. We’re divorced. She’s moved on.”

“Has she?” Joshua asked, raising an eyebrow

That made Seungcheol pause. “What do you mean?”

“She’s not exactly going on dates, is she?” Joshua pointed out. “And last I checked, she’s still wearing your ring.”

Seungcheol frowned, his chest tightening at the thought. He’d noticed it, of course. How could he not? But he hadn’t dared to hope it meant anything.

“Look, man,” Joshua said, clapping him on the shoulder. “If you still love her and I know you do you’ve got to stop acting like it’s too late. Because if you keep sitting on the sidelines, someone else *will* come along eventually. And you won’t have anyone to blame but yourself.”

With that, Joshua turned and went back inside, leaving Seungcheol alone with his thoughts.

And for the first time in a long while, those thoughts were filled with hope.

Seungcheol sighed and adjusted his jacket as he made his way back inside. Maybe if he stayed near the bar’s edge, the persistent group would lose interest. But as soon as he returned to the booth, Hyejin, the overly determined woman, lit up like he was her jackpot.

“There you are,” she said, patting the empty seat beside her. “I thought you might’ve run off.”

Seungcheol stayed standing, crossing his arms. “Just needed air.”

“Well, now that you’re back, let’s make this night a little more fun, huh?” She reached for his arm, but he took a step back

“I’m good,” he said flatly

But Hyejin clearly wasn’t one to give up easily.

“Oh, come on. One drink. What’s the harm?”

Jeonghan and Joshua, meanwhile, were watching the scene unfold like it was the best drama of the year. Joshua even had the audacity to take a sip of his beer and mutter, “This is going to be good.”

Seungcheol shot them both a glare before turning back to Hyejin. He’d had enough of the games.

“Look,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “I’m flattered, really. But I’m not interested. I have someone else.”

Her smile faltered. “Oh? You’re married?”

He didn’t hesitate reaching for the gold chain tucked under his shirt, there hangs his wedding ring. The date and your initials engraved on the inside. He let it dangle in the dim light, the small circle gleaming like a quiet promise.

“Divorced,” he clarified, “but that doesn’t mean I’m available.”

Hyejin blinked, clearly not expecting that response. “You’re divorced, but you’re still...?”

“I’m still in love with my ex-wife,” Seungcheol said plainly, his voice steady. “And we have a daughter together. Her name is Areum. She’s five, loves soccer, and thinks I can fix anything—even when I can’t.”

Jeonghan and Joshua exchanged wide-eyed glances, the playful smirks slipping from their faces.

“Whoa,” Jeonghan muttered under his breath. “He went there.”

Seungcheol ignored them, keeping his focus on Hyejin. “So, no offense, but I’m not looking for anything. My family is my priority. Always.”

There was a moment of stunned silence before Hyejin finally nodded, clearly caught off guard. “I see. Well... good for you, I guess. It’s rare to meet someone so dedicated.”

With that, she stood up, mumbling something about grabbing another drink, and walked away.

The second she was out of earshot, Jeonghan burst into laughter. “Oh, my God. Cheol, that was...”

“I’ve never seen someone so politely crush someone’s hopes like that.” Joshua shook his head, though he was smiling

“I’m not joking,” Seungcheol said, slipping the ring and chain back under his shirt

Jeonghan grinned, leaning across the table. “We know you’re not. That’s what makes it so entertaining. You’re still head over heels for her, aren’t you?”

Seungcheol sighed, sinking into the booth. “Can we not do this right now?”

“Nope,” Jeonghan said, popping the “p.” “This is exactly the time to do it. Because you just told a complete stranger that you’re still in love with your ex-wife. Out loud. In public.”

“And in front of witnesses,” Joshua added, smirking

Seungcheol groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Why do I even hang out with you two?”

“Because we’re the only ones who can call you out on your nonsense,” Jeonghan said, patting him on the back. “And honestly, Cheol, it’s about time you stopped hiding it.”

“Stopped hiding what?” Seungcheol muttered.

“That you want her back,” Joshua said simply.

Seungcheol didn’t respond, his thoughts too tangled with the truth of their words. He didn’t need to admit it—they already knew.

And deep down, so did he.

The hum of the car engine fills the silence between you and Seungcheol. The road stretches endlessly, flanked by towering trees that seem to lean in, listening to the quiet tension between you. In the backseat, Areum is a bundle of energy, her stuffed rabbit tucked securely under one arm as she hums a made-up tune. Her legs swing back and forth, her excitement barely contained.

“Are we there yet?” she chirps for the third time in an hour

“Almost, sweetheart,” Seungcheol answers, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

You glance at him from the passenger seat, noting how his hands grip the steering wheel, veins faintly visible under his tan skin. He looks good—too good. His hair, slightly longer than when you last saw him, falls over his forehead, and his jawline is as sharp as ever.

You force yourself to look away, instead focusing on the scenery outside, even though it does little to distract you from the weight of his presence.

“You excited, Areum?” you ask

“I’m soooo excited!” she exclaims, throwing her hands into the air. “Mommy, Daddy, we’re going to have so much fun! Just like old times!”

Your heart clenches at her words. You glance at Seungcheol again, catching the way his lips press into a thin line. He doesn’t say anything, but the moment hangs heavily between you.

The cabin is perfect. Nestled by a serene lake, it’s surrounded by tall pines that sway gently in the breeze. The wooden exterior glows warmly in the afternoon sunlight, and Areum bounces with excitement as soon as you step out of the car.

“Look, Mommy! A swing!” she squeals, racing toward the porch where a rustic wooden swing creaks invitingly.

Seungcheol opens the trunk and starts unloading the bags. You hesitate for a moment before grabbing Areum’s smaller suitcase and following him inside.

Areum darts around, exploring every nook and cranny, while you and Seungcheol silently divvy up tasks. You find yourself in the kitchen, unpacking snacks and prepping a quick lunch.

The clatter of utensils is the only sound until Seungcheol walks in, his sleeves rolled up, revealing forearms that shouldn’t still affect you the way they do.

“Need help?” he asks

“I’ve got it,” you reply curtly, not looking up

He doesn’t leave. Instead, he leans against the counter, watching you as you slice fruit. The tension is suffocating, and you’re about to tell him to either help or leave when Areum bursts in

“Daddy! Come help me unpack my toys!” she demands, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the door

He follows her willingly, but not before casting one last look your way A look that lingers too long and says too much.

After dinner, Areum insists on roasting marshmallows by the firepit outside. The three of you gather under the clear night sky, the flames crackling and sending up occasional sparks. Areum’s laughter fills the air as she holds her marshmallow too close to the fire, causing it to catch alight.

“Help, Daddy!” she shrieks, holding the stick out.

Seungcheol chuckles, taking it from her and expertly blowing out the flames. “There. Perfectly charred,” he declares, handing it back to her.

You watch as he wipes a smudge of chocolate from her cheek, his expression soft and full of love. The sight twists something inside you, and you have to look away.

When your eyes meet his across the fire, his gaze is steady, searching, as if he’s trying to read your mind.

Areum’s birthday breakfast is a chaotic mix of pancakes, whipped cream, and sprinkles. She insists on wearing her birthday crown all day, and Seungcheol dutifully bows every time she walks by, calling her “Princess Areum.”

When it’s time for cake, she claps her hands excitedly as you light the candles. “Okay, sweetie, make a wish,” you say, kneeling beside her.

She closes her eyes, her expression scrunching up in concentration. Then, with a triumphant shout, she declares, “I wish for a sibling!”

Your breath catches, and you glance at Seungcheol, who looks just as stunned. Areum blows out the candles in one go, her face lighting up with joy. “Now it has to come true!” she exclaims, completely oblivious to the tension between you and her father.

The morning sun glitters on the lake’s surface, and Areum races ahead, her bright pink swimsuit standing out against the greens and blues of nature. She shrieks with delight as her toes touch the cold water, kicking up little splashes.

“Come on, Mommy! Daddy!” she calls, waving her arms.

You hesitate at the shoreline, adjusting your cover-up nervously. Seungcheol, on the other hand, wades in without hesitation, his muscular frame cutting through the water as he lifts Areum into his arms. She giggles as he spins her around, droplets flying everywhere.

“Scared of a little water?” he teases, glancing back at you with a smirk.

You roll your eyes but step in, letting the icy water creep up your legs. Areum swims over to you, her small hands grasping yours.

“Let’s play! All of us!” she exclaims.

She drags you toward Seungcheol, who’s treading water a few feet away. The three of you end up playing a makeshift game of tag, and for a moment, it feels almost normal almost like the three of you are a family again.

Later, when Areum insists on building sandcastles by the shore, you sit side by side with Seungcheol, the silence between you no longer quite as heavy.

“She really loves this,” he says, watching Areum with a fond smile.

“She’s been looking forward to it for weeks,” you admit, fiddling with a piece of grass. “She wanted it to be perfect.”

He glances at you. “I think it is.”

After Areum falls asleep, the cabin feels too quiet. You find yourself on the porch, staring out at the dark lake. The sound of footsteps behind you makes you tense, but you don’t turn around. You know it’s him.

“She really surprised us today,” Seungcheol says, leaning against the railing beside you

“That’s Areum,” you reply softly, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Always full of surprises.”

There’s a pause before he speaks again. “She’s a lot like you.”

You glance at him, caught off guard. His gaze is steady, filled with something you can’t quite name. “You don’t have to say that,” you mumble

“I mean it,” he says, his voice low. “You’re both stubborn, and you never give up on what you want.”

The words hang between you, and before you can think, he takes a step closer. “I know I messed up,” he says, his tone almost pleading. “But being here… it reminds me of what we had. What we could still have.”

“Cheol…” you start, but he silences you with a gentle touch on your arm.

“I’m not asking for everything right now,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “But tell me… do you feel it too? Even a little?”

You don’t answer with words. Instead, you close the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss that feels like both a question and an answer. It’s slow, deliberate, and filled with the weight of everything left unsaid.

For the first time in years, you let yourself hope.

The kiss deepens, but it isn’t hurried. It feels more like rediscovering something familiar yet distant. Seungcheol’s hand finds the curve of your waist, grounding you, while the other gently brushes your cheek.

For a fleeting moment, the years of heartbreak, resentment, and missed chances seem to melt away, leaving just the two of you under the starlit sky.

When you finally pull back, his forehead rests against yours, and his breath fans across your face. Neither of you says a word, and for once, the silence feels comfortable, even necessary.

“I… I should go to bed,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly. It isn’t a rejection, but a plea for space, a moment to process what just happened.

Seungcheol nods, his hand lingering on your arm before he lets you go. “Goodnight,” he murmurs, his voice laced with something you can’t quite place—hope, maybe.

You retreat to your room, your heart pounding in your chest. You glance at the bed, where Areum sleeps peacefully, her little hand clutching her stuffed rabbit. Her soft breaths are a reminder of everything that matters, of why you came here in the first place.

Still, when you lie down, the memory of Seungcheol’s touch lingers, refusing to let you rest.

The next morning, it's smell of freshly brewed coffee wakes you. Padding into the kitchen, you find Seungcheol already at work, flipping pancakes while Areum sits on the counter, wearing one of his oversized shirts over her pajamas. She’s animatedly telling him a story about her dreams, waving her arms for emphasis.

“And then the dragon said, ‘Areum, you’re the bravest princess ever!’” she declares, her eyes wide. “Right, Daddy?”

“Of course,” he says with a grin, ruffling her hair. “If there’s anyone who can take down a dragon, it’s you.”

You linger in the doorway, unnoticed for a moment, watching the easy way they interact. Areum looks at him like he hung the moon, and Seungcheol, for all his faults, looks at her like she’s his whole world.

“Mommy!” Areum spots you first, her face lighting up. “Daddy’s teaching me how to flip pancakes! Look!” She holds up a spatula triumphantly

“Is he now?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you step closer. “Just don’t let him burn them.”

“Hey, I’m a pro. You remember.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. It’s moments like this that make it hard to hold on to the walls you’ve built.

As the three of you sit down to breakfast, Areum chatters on about all the things she wants to do before you leave the cabin. Her energy is infectious, and for the first time in a long while, you let yourself relax.

After lunch, Areum insists on having a tea party outside by the lake. She drags Seungcheol along, handing him a tiny pink teacup and a plastic tiara. You try not to laugh as he dutifully places it on his head, his expression serious as Areum pours invisible tea into his cup.

“Daddy, you have to hold your pinky up!” Areum scolds, demonstrating the proper way to hold a teacup.

“Like this?” he asks, holding up his pinky with exaggerated effort.

Areum giggles. “No, Daddy, you’re doing it wrong!”

“Why don’t you join us, Mommy?” Areum calls, waving you over

“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “You and Daddy seem to have it under control.”

“She’s scared of your tea,” Seungcheol teases, winking at you. “Probably thinks it’s too strong.”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

It's the last night at the cabin before going back to normal. After putting Areum to bed, you find Seungcheol on the porch again, leaning against the railing. The moon casts a soft glow on the lake, and the air is cool but pleasant.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks without turning around.

You step out, closing the door quietly behind you. “Something like that.”

He gestures for you to join him, and after a moment’s hesitation, you do. The two of you stand in silence, the sounds of crickets and the gentle lapping of the lake filling the void.

“She’s amazing, you know,” he says finally, his voice low. “Areum. She’s everything good about us.”

You swallow hard, nodding. “She is.”

He turns to look at you then, his gaze soft but intense. “I meant what I said last night,” he murmurs. “I don’t want to lose this again. I don’t want to lose you.”

Your breath catches, but before you can respond, he reaches for your hand. His fingers are warm, steady, as they curl around yours.

“I know it will be hard,” he continues, his voice rough with emotion. “But if there’s even a part of you that still believes in us, I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’ve changed.”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you look down, unsure of how to respond.

“Cheol…” you start, your voice trembling. “This isn’t just about us anymore. It’s about Areum.”

“I know,” he says, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “And that’s why I want to do this right. For her. For you.”

For a long moment, you say nothing, your gaze fixed on the horizon. But when you finally look up, you see the sincerity in his eyes, and the walls you’ve built around your heart begin to crumble.

“Okay,” you whisper. “But this time… we take it slow.”

A smile spreads across his face, and for the first time in years, it feels like the start of something new.

The porch is quiet, save for the soft chirping of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. Seungcheol’s hand lingers in yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, deliberate movements. The air between you feels charged, heavy with unspoken words and emotions that neither of you can ignore anymore.

“Slow,” he repeats, his voice soft but resolute. “I can do slow.”

But the way he’s looking at you now. His gaze warm and searching, dipping from your eyes to your lips makes you doubt his resolve. Your pulse quickens as he steps closer, his presence overwhelming in a way that feels both familiar and new.

“Cheol…” you murmur, unsure whether it’s meant to be a warning or encouragement

“Tell me to stop,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. His free hand rises, fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face, lingering at your temple. “Tell me, and I will.”

You should say it. You should remind him that Areum is just inside, that this isn’t the time, that you’re still trying to figure things out. But instead, you find yourself leaning into his touch, the warmth of his hand against your skin unraveling the last of your defenses.

He takes your silence as permission and leans down slowly, his lips brushing against yours with an achingly soft tenderness. The kiss is tentative at first, as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away, but when you don’t, it deepens. His hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you closer until your bodies are flush against each other.

The sensation is overwhelming, a rush of emotions you’ve tried so hard to bury. His lips are firm and insistent, and when his teeth graze your lower lip, you let out a soft gasp that seems to ignite something in him. He tilts his head, angling the kiss to deepen it further, and you feel his fingers tighten on your waist.

Your hands find their way to his chest, pressing lightly against the hard muscle beneath his shirt. It’s not a push to stop, but it makes him pause. He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his breathing uneven.

“This okay?” he asks, his voice hoarse.

You nod, your fingers curling into his shirt. “Yeah.”

He lets out a soft laugh, pressing his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

His confession sends a shiver through you, but before you can respond, his lips are on yours again. This time, there’s less hesitation. His hand slips under the hem of your sweater, his palm warm against the bare skin of your lower back. The touch is electric, sending sparks racing up your spine.

You can’t help the soft moan that escapes you, and Seungcheol freezes, pulling back abruptly. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his voice strained. “I said slow, and I mean it. I don’t want to mess this up.”

You’re breathless, your cheeks flushed as you look up at him. There’s a vulnerability in his expression that makes your heart ache. “You’re not messing anything up,” you assure him, your fingers still gripping his shirt.

He exhales deeply, resting his hands on your hips but making no move to take things further. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters, half-smiling as he brushes his thumb against your hipbone.

The sound of a soft thud inside the cabin breaks the moment, and both of you freeze, turning toward the door.

“Areum,” you whisper, your heart racing for an entirely different reason now

Seungcheol chuckles under his breath, stepping back and running a hand through his hair. “Guess the universe has a way of keeping me in check.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “We should check on her.”

He nods, his expression still warm. As you turn to head back inside, he catches your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Slow,” he repeats, his eyes locking with yours. “But I’m not letting you go this time.”

You smile, the warmth of his words settling deep in your chest. “Okay.”

Inside, Areum is fast asleep, her stuffed rabbit lying on the floor beside her bed. You tuck her back in, brushing a kiss to her forehead before slipping out of the room. As you close the door, Seungcheol is waiting in the hallway, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

“Goodnight,” you say softly, pausing in front of him

“Goodnight,” he replies, but his eyes linger on you a moment longer before he heads to his own room.

You retreat to your bed, your heart still racing from the night’s events. For the first time in years, you feel a flicker of hope—a possibility of rebuilding what you thought was lost. And as you drift off to sleep, you find yourself looking forward to what tomorrow might bring.

The next morning you were woken up by the sound of Areum’s laughter as she runs through the living room, her stuffed rabbit trailing behind her. Seungcheol is chasing after her, pretending to be a monster, his deep growls making her shriek in delight.

You go down to see the duo having so much energy this early in the day, a fond smiling forming on your face

“Daddy, you’ll never catch me!” Areum taunts, darting behind the couch.

“We’ll see about that!” Seungcheol lunges dramatically, scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Put me down!” she squeals, though her giggles betray her delight.

“Okay, okay, you win!” she says between giggles.

He sits beside her, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “That’s what I thought. Who’s the champ?”

“You are!” she says, sticking her tongue out at him before turning her attention to you. “Mommy! Come sit with us!”

You join them on the couch, Areum immediately climbing into your lap and wrapping her arms around your neck. “Did you have fun this weekend, sweetheart?” you ask, smoothing her hair

“Yes! It was the best birthday ever!” she exclaims, her eyes lighting up. Then, as if remembering something important, she leans back to look at both you and Seungcheol, her expression suddenly serious

“What is it, Areum?” you ask her

She takes a deep breath, her little brows furrowed in concentration. “Yesterday, when I blew out my candles, I made a wish.”

You and Seungcheol exchange a quick glance, his brow lifting in curiosity "We remember, what about it sweet girl?"

"I thought about it a lot. And since Mommy and Daddy are best friends” she pauses to give each of you a knowing look, “—I thought maybe you could make it happen.”

Seungcheol bursts into laughter, ruffling Areum’s hair. “That’s quite the request, princess.”

“But you always say you’d do anything for me!” she counters, crossing her arms in a way that makes her look far older than six.

You bite back a smile, trying to keep your tone serious. “Sweetheart, it doesn’t exactly work like that.”

“Why not?” she asks, tilting her head.

“Well,” Seungcheol jumps in, his voice warm and teasing, “it’s not something that happens overnight. It takes time and a lot of love.”

Areum seems to consider this, her little face scrunching up in thought. Then she looks at the two of you, her smile returning. “That’s okay! I can wait. As long as you promise!”

You and Seungcheol both laugh, and he reaches over to give her a hug. “We’ll see what we can do, princess. No promises, but we’ll try our best.”

“Yay!” Areum cheers, completely satisfied with that answer. She wriggles out of your lap and runs off to find her toys, leaving the two of you alone.

As soon as Areum disappears down the hall, Seungcheol turns to you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Well, that was unexpected.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “She’s bold. Definitely takes after you.”

“Me?” he protests, feigning offense. “I think she takes after her mom. You’ve got a pretty bold streak yourself.”

“So, what do we tell her if she asks again?”

Seungcheol leans back, his gaze softening as he looks at you. “We tell her the truth. That we’re figuring things out, but we’ll always be a family—no matter what.”

“And hey,” he adds, his tone teasing, “if she really wants a sibling, I guess we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

You swat his arm, laughing despite yourself. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Choi Seungcheol.”

He grins, reaching for your hand and intertwining your fingers. “No rush,” he says softly, his eyes locking with yours. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

And as you sit there, hand in hand, you can’t help but feel that, for the first time in a long while, you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

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misspelledwordswizard · 1 day ago

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Can I request a Time content?

The Chaín except Time asking Reader his type or things she likes of a man. She mention some qualities but she specify "Older Man".

Time all blushing because he is in love with reader and Reader likes him too.

Time Content, yeay! I loved writing this asdfkqaj I hope you like it! <3

I like older men

— Oh, come on, you have to have a type! – Warriors exclaimed, referring to me. He’s been pestering me for a few minutes to tell me what type of man I’m attracted to.

— I don’t think I have an exact type. – I kept giving the same answer. My taste can be quite flexible, I’d say.

We were all around the campfire, talking, sharing stories, after the meal. The conversation was going smoothly until they got to the subject of relationships, which Sky dominated, by the way. The Captain has some experience in short-term relationships, so to speak, some of the others seem to have traumas, while the rest simply have never had anything with anyone until now, totally fair.

But, apparently, my romantic life became the central point of the entire conversation after I said I was single, and had never been seriously involved with anyone before. From what I understand, this information is somewhat shocking to them.

— But not even some things you find attractive in men? – Wild suggested, he wasn’t helping me either.

Unconsciously, my thoughts took me to the leader of the group, who was the only one who wasn’t bothering me with the subject. I can’t tell if it was because he was not interested in the subject or simply out of respect for my dignity.

He didn’t even seem to be paying attention, to tell the truth. Leaning so calmly against a tree, with both eyes closed, I couldn’t even tell if he was awake. Avoiding looking at him and ending up generating comments among the heroes, I sighed and accepted my fate. Okay, I just need to wind them up.

— Hm, let me think. – I said, raising expectations in the boys around me. – I guess we can say I like tall men. – Out of the corner of my eye, I had the impression of seeing Four wilt in his place, did he feel offended? – And strong ones too, something more natural... – I could feel my cheeks blushing. I wouldn’t mind talking about it at a sleepover with my friends, but with the men I’ve been living with for the past few months? What a nightmare.

They remained silent, indicating that they expected more. Damn, damn gossips.

— Well, I find light eyes attractive, I would say. And tattoos... Oh, and men who wear black, especially those tight, high-necked shirts. – Okay, I think I’m going too far. My cheeks looked like bell peppers. Oh, right, there’s one last very important one. – And, mainly, older men.

I concluded, unable to bear all this pressure of stares while I talk about something so personal. I closed my eyes, expecting their provocative comments or something like that, but I was surprised to notice the silence that followed. Was that really that shocking?

I opened my eyes to see their reactions, and, to my surprise, they weren’t looking at me. All eight boys looked with shock, surprise or curiosity in Time’s direction. Confused, I turned to look at him too, and, after some time processing the information, I understood the reason for their exaggerated reactions, feeling my face even hotter than before. Time kept his eyes closed. His face, so relaxed before, was now tense, his lips pressed together in a line and his good eye closed a little tighter. What was surprising, in fact, was how rosy his cheeks were.

In all my life, or rather, since I met him, I never thought I would see the hero of time blush. Because of me. Damn, am I not going crazy?  Well, I am definitely to blame for this, without realizing it, I ended up almost describing him in this silly joke.

Oh man, I want to bury my face in a hole, I couldn’t have made it more obvious! Great, now I will have to deal with the provocations of this bunch of idiots. I looked away, no longer having the courage to look at him, and just accepted my cruel fate.

— Look... – Warriors began, and I was already mentally preparing myself for the humiliation that was to come. – ... it seems that we have finally discovered the Old Man’s type as well.

I turned my head abruptly to look at him, in time to see his eye widen and his mouth open in surprise and indignation, but nothing came out of his mouth. With his face even redder, he sighed and stood up, leaving the group in search of a moment of peace.

These brats are still going to kill Time with these provocations, and in addition, they are going to kill me too.

#link x reader #linked universe x reader #linked universe #tloz #linked universe fanfic #lu x reader #legend of zelda #x reader #lu time x reader #lu time

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razorblade180 · 8 hours ago

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What is love?

Carmine:Mom, how did you fall in love with dad?

Ruby:Oof, that question has no real answer.

Carmine:You don’t love him?

Ruby:Not what I said in the slightest. Why would you even- I meant there was no single instance!

Carmine:Oh…

Ruby:We bonded as friends and relied on each other physically, emotionally, mentally; at some point it just sorta hit me how happy he made me and that life without him would be so…miserable. I can’t think of a single person that I’d want in my life like this other than your father.

Carmine:Hmmm, yep, don’t really get it. Sounds nice though.

Ruby:What’s with the interest in love? You like Aero or something?

Carmine:….*looks away*

Ruby:…Awwww, my baby~

Carmine:Stop! None of that. It’s not love. Honestly I don’t fucking get it. I just know he’s important to me and it pisses me off to see him struggle.

Ruby:He’s kinda your first friend. It’s natural to feel that way. You do know he likes you, right?

Carmine:I’m aware. It’s interesting. He got mad at me for calling him out on it and wasn’t really happy about me asking for help with a case.

Ruby:Carmine it sounds like you might be taking advantage of him a little.

Carmine:But he likes to help me. He gets more upset when I do something crazy and without involving him.

Ruby:….

Carmine:What!?

Ruby:Nothing. I’m just wondering if I was this dense back then. *pats head* You want things okay between you?

Carmine:Yes.

Ruby:Then openly express your thoughts. Tell him how you feel and have an honest conversation.

Carmine:But that’s what I- isn’t that what’s been happening!? I’ve never hid anything from him; aside y’know, my eyes.

Ruby:Have you told him you care about his safety and like spending time with him.

Carmine:Y…Yes? No? I mean, isn’t that obvious? I wouldn’t fight thugs messing with him or visit often of if I didn’t care.

Ruby:Sometimes you have to say those things. You know I love you, but i still tell you that you’re my little happily ever after. *hugs her* My sweet little rose.

Carmine:…I guess that makes sense. *hugs back* Okay, maybe your advice is pretty good.

Jaune:*walks in* Hello my two roses.

Ruby:Hello, the author of my fairy tale. My beloved.

Jaune:Your mother is trying to stop me from telling you she had a crush about two weeks after we met.

Ruby:Don’t listen to him! He weaves lies and tricks! I would never get attached that fast!

Carmine:You loved me instantly.

Ruby:That’s different!

Carmine:Did you fall for mom immediately?

Jaune:Nah I crushing on Weiss.

Carmine:Makes sense.

Ruby:What do you- I can’t even be upset honestly. Weiss had a 13 step skin care routine and I couldn’t be bothered to wash my hair some days.

Jaune:*hugs both* It just meant you spent more time with me. It was a long con.

Ruby:Thanks for the out but let’s be real, I was just lazy.

xxxxxx

Aero:*opens window*

Carmine:*sitting in a tree* In case it wasn’t obvious, I actually care how you perceive me.

Aero:Spell “perceive”

Carmine:*red* I also don’t like arguing. I care about your thoughts and emotions.

Aero:Okay? I figured. But like…can you actually apologize.

Carmine:…Oh! I didn’t- I’m sorry.

Aero:….

Carmine:I’m really sorry.

Aero:…..

Carmine:*lip quivers* Am I out of friends now?

Aero:Oh my god; shut up and come inside already before your density snaps the branch.

Carmine:You shouldn’t call the girl you like heavy. *crawls inside*

Aero:You’re doing this on purpose now.

Carmine:Little bit. *hugs him*

Aero:!? You don’t like hugs.

Carmine:Yeah, but you do. So why not?

Aero:…You’re so weird. *hugs her with wings*

Carmine:Okay, if all hugs were this cool I might change my opinion.

#rwby #ruby rose #jaune arc #rwby lancaster #carmine arc rose #aero amitola #rwbabies #rwby au #rwby rosebud

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coffeekittycatt · 2 days ago

Text

Just A Taste (Sylus Fanfic)

(Part 1. This is my first piece of fanfic. Be patient with me pls 🙂‍↕️)

Mature (18+) (eh it’s not too bad.. yet lol)

—————————————————————————————

MC point of view:

7pm on the dot. Man I am so tired.. I think to myself while brushing my teeth. I dry my mouth and look forward. Slightly reddish pink eyes stare back at me. This had been my third day in a row working a 12 hour shift. I make my way out the bathroom and plop onto my soft, queen sized bed. Ahh.. finally! This might be the earliest bedtime for me in a while.

I lie my head down and before I know it.. I am out. No sleepy bear tea needed. Perfect slumber.

*Phone Rings* My eyes flick open. My phone.. I squint in pain of being awoken so suddenly and see my screen lit up with the name "Sylus". Oh god. What does he want? What time is it even? I reluctantly pick up the device and press accept.

"Hello? Can I help you?"

S: "Excuse me? I am at your door. Care to let me in, sweetie?"

"Sylus, why are you at my door? Is it not the middle of the night?"

S: "It's 9pm. Is my little kitten losing track of time?"

"First off, I am not your "kitten." Second, I was taking a nap so I only have half a brain cell working at the moment. But besides that, you still haven't answered my question."

S: "You told me I could drop off Mephisto so you could take care of him while I am gone on my business trip next week. This is usually the time I am up so I didn't see a problem. "

Ah shit, I forgot I promised him.. The one thing I actually said I would do for this obnoxious man.

"Right. Okay Sylus, I will be right there."

I roll my eyes. It's not that I hate Sylus or anything.. I just am wary towards him. He is cocky, a smartass, and to be frank.. I just don't know him well enough. I will say, he is very handsome. But that means nothing to me if he can't be trusted. I am just doing him this solid because, well.. I love Mephisto! I am an animal lover. Plus, if I can get Sylus to trust me, I can get some useful information regarding Onychinus.

I quickly switch from my oversized tee and shorts to a cute lounge set. A light lavender color sits pretty and hugs my body. The material is soft and thin. I spray some vanilla scented perfume on my neck and glide my favorite lip oil on. Why am I getting all dolled up?

I pause to ponder about the sudden question. Well.. why was I? Why should I care about what he thinks? Sure, he is attractive but.. Ugh. Need to hurry. No time for thinking. I shake my head and make my way to the entrance.

A pair of crimson eyes meet mine as I open my apartment door. "Well hello", he says softly. I slightly tense up as I see his eyes wander downwards, reading my body. I smile inside, feeling a small victory. Okay, maybe I secretly desired his eyes on me, at least to admire my outfit. I try to be collected with my exterior. A moment passes and I decide he has stared long enough. "Coming inside, or did you come just to admire the doorway?" I ask teasingly. He scoffs playfully and walks inside my apartment.

My living room was small but cozy. The couch was big enough for me to sleep on and lounge around on days where I couldn't be bothered to do anything else. I had plenty of throw blankets ready and dim lights that gave the room a warm glow. Sylus sets Mephisto’s cage on the coffee table gently. I find a fall-scented candle I want to use and I grab my trusty lighter. As I get ready to light the flame, I see Sylus taking his leather jacket off. I steal a quick peek at his arms. He was a big guy. Standing at 6'2, his presence alone towered me. His arms.. My oh my. Toned.. Strong. His hands smooth and well kept, but durable. He can probably lift me onto his shoulders with no prob- "(y/n)?", Sylus suddenly says, breaking the glorious trance my mind had engulfed itself onto his body. "(y/n) are you going to light that candle? Or am I distracting you?" He asks with a smirk. I feel my cheeks warm up, and a ping of annoyance heats me. Why did I let myself get caught gawking? Shaking off my embarrassment, I light the candle and meet Sylus at the couch. "Would you like anything to drink? Water? Tea?", I ask. I am a nice host after all, even to annoyingly hot men. "How nice of you to offer sweetie, but no thanks." He says. I nod in response and have a seat alongside him, keeping quite a bit of space between us.

Sylus sits back on the couch. Confident and relaxed. He is wearing a somewhat loose. white button up shirt. A closer look reveals expensive, soft fabric that must’ve been handmade. His wardrobe cannot be cheap. A mist of clean smelling soap pings my nose. Wow, he smells amazing. I suddenly feel my stomach turn in a way that makes my skin feel flushed. Does he know how deadly handsome he is? I notice his hair is quite messy as well, not in the usual parted and neatly styled way, but his bangs laid tousled on his forehead instead. He must’ve showered right before coming.

Interesting.

"So.. Mephisto. How long will I be watching after him?" I ask as I peek down at the medium-sized metal cage Mephisto sits peacefully in. His eyes are closed and he seems to be sleepy. How cute!

S: "Not too long. I will be away for about 4 days on my trip so it shouldn't be too bad. He is not a high maintenance crow by any means. I brought his special food and the serving instructions are labeled on the back. "

"Great! Should be no issue then."

The room falls quiet for a moment. Sylus looks down, almost seems to be lost in thought for a second.

My face changes to a somewhat confused look. Why is he so lost in thought?

"Well.. if that's all you need from me.." I say, trying to close this awkward gap in our conversation.

Sylus looks up at me for a few seconds without saying anything.

"What? Something on my face?" I ask somewhat nervously.

S: "You are quite beautiful."

"I-"

My face feels flushed. Oh no. Did he actually just say that? What is he playing at? I am so confused.

S: "Aw, am I making you blush? Kitten, do you enjoy receiving compliments?"

I don't know whether to feel turned on or offended. Maybe both. Who does this guy think he is? He is rude one day.. obnoxious another.. now he is calling me beautiful? And calling me kitten?

" Why do you call me that?" I say, taking a sip of water. Praying my face will stop flashing red.

Sylus slightly changes his seating position, his legs spread out as he sits back further on his side of the couch. "Would like a different name?”, he questions with a hint of amusement displayed on his face.

"Like what? Is my first name not enough?"

S: "I prefer names that describe exactly what you are."

"And what am I?" I ask boldly.

Sylus chuckles at my snappy attitude. "A feisty kitten who tries to deny her feelings for me,” he replies.

I laugh in surprise and am somewhat shocked at how ridiculous this conversation has turned.

"W-What? What makes you come to that conclusion? " I ask while closing my eyes. My cheeks aren’t calming down, and I am getting annoyed at how this man is triggering me so easily.

S: "I see the way you look at me, dollface. The way you sneak peeks at me when you think I don't notice. How your thighs rub together when I inch near you on this couch." He smirks.

I stay quiet. He’s right. And I hate him for that. My body instinctively wants him. I feel a warm ping of adrenaline in my core and down lower, a wetness makes its presence known.

"So?" I state quietly, gazing at him with an unsureness.

He inched closer to me and slowly rose his hand to my cheek. I gasped, my body paralyzed by nerves and butterflies making laps in my tummy. We locked eyes and for a second, I thought, I would do anything for this man. Why, why, why? I shouldn't feel this way. Is he just that physically attractive? Am I just really horny? I didn't have time to contemplate. Sylus was already inches near my face.

S: "Say you don't want this."

From here, I can feel his minty breath against my face. Ugh he smelled delicious. Sweet, expensive cologne radiating off his clothes and into the air. My lower lady parts pinged with heat and throbbed in desire. Just his presence alone turned me on.. But he could never know that. This is wrong.

"I-I don't want this…" I say while looking down.

S: "Liar." His gentle hand on my right cheek turned into a cuff, holding against my chin. He made my head look up at him. My eyes widen a bit at the sudden boldness of his touch.

S: "Now kitten, you can sit here and try to play with me.. but I don't buy it."

I look away. He is right. I am lying. But is this a good idea? I don't even know this man's intentions. Can I trust him? All I know is my body yearns for him.

S: "Look at you.. blushing. Like a little schoolgirl. Not so great at playing poker face, kitten." He smirks and lets my face go.

He quickly leans in closer and is now centimeters from my face. He looks into my eyes and traces down to my lips.

S: "Just a taste? Don't make me beg now, sweetie."

I lose my breath at his demanding comment and notice my underwear is soaked. His voice.. his eyes. At this point.. I can't fight the urge anymore.

I give a bashful nod and bite my lower lip.

Sylus leans in and his mouth meets mine. His lips were like honey, making me sugar wasted. Sweet and surprisingly gentle kisses from a bold and confident man. It was almost like he was teasing me, only giving me 50% of his energy. Each kiss was a half-written love letter crafted just for me and left me wanting my complete ending. He gently tugged at my lip with his teeth and his long tongue danced with mine, giving me just enough to keep me drunk. He held my warm face and the back of head, taking control but never overwhelming me. I wanted more. This felt too good.

I quietly moaned in his mouth, hoping he would get the hint to take things further. He grazed my hair with his right hand and gathered some in his palm. He pulled the bit that he had gently, making me gasp and our lips broke free. The slight tug felt so good. Any bit of touch from him was making me melt.

S: "Not so fast kitten, I only said a taste."

"Why?" I ask, demanding to know.

He smirks and satisfaction radiates across his face. "Ah, my naughty kitten likes what she tastes. How cute. Unfortunately, I don't go any further than that. Unless we are dating."

I am puzzled by his comment. Is he asking me out right now? He is kind of putting me on the spot. Am I assuming correctly?

"Is this your unique way of asking me on a date?" I questioned, afraid of his answer. Part of me hopes he will randomly say he does in fact want me. My mind is no longer rational.

S: "And if it is? What is your answer, sweetie? Yes? No? Maybe so?"

-Part 2 to be continued-

#lads #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x mc #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #smut #smut with plot #smuttish #sylus smut #lnds sylus #lnds mc #lnds smut #lads smut

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damn-stark · 1 day ago

Text

Chapter 31 In that big ol’ room

Chapter 31 of Moonlight

A/N- we’re close to the end :(

Warning- talks of postpartum depression, ANGST, swearing, violence, fire, blood, and DEATH. SPOILERS!! FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD, USING FIRE AND BLOOD, long chapter.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode/Pages- 535-539

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

The memory of her death, even though it was recent and still a raw one in your mind, can’t stop playing in your head over and over again.

Like a veil it obscures your vision, not letting you take a good look at the newborn babies you just gave birth to, and here's the thing, as bad as it sounds you don’t care to look at them. Even if you cradle them both in your arms you can’t find that joy or relief to look at their red little faces and wait for their eyes to open to tell you who their father might be.

You keep the veil over your face like a badge of honor to remind yourself why you wear it. You don’t want to forget even if it's impossible to do so. Does it make you a terrible mother?

All you wanted to be as a mother was to be the mother yours was to you. You want to nuzzle with all three of your babies now that you’re together. You want to love them and let go of your pain, but…then Daenys begins to cry a shrieking cry and it takes you back to that moment where your mother shrieked before she burnt, and you’re bombarded with frustration.

“Take them,” you demand and turn to the edge of the bed to let a handmaiden take them from your arms so they can shush the shrieking babe.

However, she only cries louder and your frustration starts to torture you by bringing rage along.

You try to shake it off, but as you close your eyes the memory of your mother burning plays vividly so you quickly snap your eyes open and simply sit there ruminating in your anger and frustration, hoping it’ll fade into something you can manage, but alas, that veil only gets thicker to the point you can’t see what’s in front of you. All that exists is your anger and…a desire—no, an obligation to kill Aegon for what he did. It doesn’t matter if they end up killing you in the process.

You don’t care as long as he’s dead too.

He has to die…

Thus in a blinded rage, you swipe the scissors that the handmaidens used to cut the twin’s umbilical cord and then drag yourself off the bed, catching the immediate attention of all the handmaidens.

“Princess what are you doing?! You should not be moving!” Vanessa warns you and rushes to your side to attempt and move you back to bed, but you put your hand up to stop her.

“Leave me,” you snap without meeting her gaze. “I am going to try and call to my dragon,” you lie and push yourself off the bed, causing your bloody and soaked gown to fall over your body, and feeling sharp pains shooting throughout your body, threatening to keep you down, but you just clutch onto your belly and swallow back your pained groan before you start to drag your feet without bothering to put anything on your feet.

You just start walking, making the poor handmaidens' hearts hurt with pity and concern.

“Don’t dare and follow me,” you warn them as you keep the scissors hidden in your sleeve so they won’t stop you.

“But—”

“No,” you cut them off and leave out the door where guards are there to greet you. “If you follow me I won’t need my dragon to kill you. I’ll do it myself,” you warn them bitterly.

However, unlike the handmaidens, they move to trail after you, making you bring yourself to a stop and peer over your shoulder with a glare. “I said. Stay,” you grimace. “Guard the twins. They are more important. What threat can I be anyway?” You try to deceive them, and after a moment of debate, they step back to their previous position, letting you continue to trudge forward.

However, every step you take is a cruel reminder of what you just went through. And with every step you want to stop and take a break, but you keep moving your bare feet and exhausted body forward because what is your pain compared to the pain your mother went through every single second before she was ripped apart?

Nothing…that’s what. Nothing compares to the suffering she went through. It's why you keep moving forward. It’s why you clench your jaw as you grow angrier, and it’s why you clutch onto the scissors you keep hidden. Even though you have no idea where Aegon is, you keep moving—then again is it really hard to find him as he’s bound to that wooden chair?

Not likely. He can only be in so many places. Is it the throne room? The master quarters? Or the meeting room?

You’ll go search in all of them if you have to. Even if you’re writhing in agony you will find him. After all, what does he know of Dragonstone? He’s never called it home like you have. This is your home! Yours! Your mothers, your brothers, your cousins, and your children’s home! Not his! So you will find Aegon.

Aegon.

Aegon…

After a while of stalking through those corridors like a vengeful ghost terrorizing the castle, you finally catch the sound of his voice coming from the meeting room. He’s not alone either, you can hear Ser Alfred and Lord Larys with him too, but it’s okay you can wait and if they don't leave his side then you’ll still ram your scissors through Aegon’s throat.

You wait first though. Just for a while.

“…killing Lord Corlys Velaryon would not be a wise action. Even if Ser Alfred has a point about having Rhaenyra's allies suffer consequences, he still has the greatest fleet and a bastard boy who will never ally with us.”

Aegon hums before he interjects. “Then…we make him bend the knee and ask for forgiveness. He did turn against Rhaenyra when she imprisoned him, besides…his counsel would be welcome.”

The corner of your lips curl to a scowl and your grip around the scissors only tightens more.

“If he doesn’t comply we have his granddaughters in our grasp. We will just threaten one of their lives until he bends the knee,” he shares without an ounce of hesitation. His words just roll off of his tongue.

“That will surely work, but I’m certain we won’t have to take those measures,” Lord Larys says before Ser Alfred cuts in.

“That is if he doesn’t call to his other granddaughter, Lady Rhaena, and her wild dragon. With Astraea still alive, they could use Lord Stark’s new host and Lady Arryn’s host to turn against us. And we don’t have the numbers to compete.”

Aegon scoffs with displeasure and Ser Alfred continues with a bit of hesitation.

“That is why I suggest we kill Rhaenyra’s son Aegon…”

Your pinched eyebrows falter as the rage contorting your face turns to disbelief for a second.

“…That way they don’t have an heir to use against us. With Prince Aemond’s son you don’t need Aegon as heir, nor will your niece be a threat with her now betrothed to Lord Stark. Killing Aegon will discourage the forces, it will show them that we still have power and that we are not to be trifled with.”

No. No. No…

Aegon can’t die too. Your mother would have fought to the death to keep him alive; her last living son.

Plus, he is your brother. Even if you weren’t raised together and he’s more like a stranger to you, he’s still the last living brother you have so he can’t die. You can’t let him die, and…you…won’t. Even if it means swallowing your anger and your pride you will keep him alive.

Thus after a deep shuddering breath, you drop the scissors meant to kill Aegon, making a loud clattering sound the moment the metal hits the floor. After that, you draw out another trembling breath before you slowly step out of hiding and come across guards on their way to investigate the noise.

“I have come to see the King,” you mutter in defeat and ignore the way they look at you with disgust as you’re still wearing your birthing gown and have not cleaned any of your sweat, tears, or blood.

“This…way,” one guard points to the hall as he steps aside, letting you push your chin up and continue to trudge forward.

Once you’re in the sights of all three men you bring yourself to a halt and force yourself to drag your eyes toward Aegon, even if it brings you more pain than when you were walking where you are.

“Princess,” Ser Alfred gasps.

“Bring—”

“No,” you cut Lord Larys off and hold your belly. “I come to say one thing.”

You draw in a deep breath as you hesitate to form your next words.

You will say what you came here to say, there’s no doubt about it. But even if it hurts to admit it, having to sacrifice your own dreams to save your brother wounds you deeply because it’s Aegon; the man who killed your mother, the man who you always hated, and the man who has always been so perverted and gross. Furthermore, after having immunity by being betrothed to Cregan, Aegon is taking that away too.

“I,” you breathe out and break your silence, but don’t continue right away. First, you fall to your knees with a pained groan and then, continue with your head hanging. “…Will marry you.”

You miss the looks that are shared and fail to look strong and nonchalant. Your voice and your face both expose your weakness as those words pierce your soul.

“Just please,” you beg in a quivering voice. “Don't kill my brother. He-he can go to the wall the moment he turns of age. Just please, please don’t kill him,” you plead in the same desperation you used to plead for your mother's life.

“He’s all I have left of my family,” you whisper. “Please, Aegon. He doesn’t even have to be raised in the Red Keep, you can send him to be someone’s ward. Just please…don’t kill him.”

You can hear shifting and wood creaking before Aegon’s voice makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise, and a twinge of anger sparks back where it had been burning before.

“Look at me,” he says smugly because he has control over you like never before. And even if you don’t want to meet his gaze. Even if the thought disgusts and angers you, you slowly pull your head up and meet his gaze with a hardened look.

“I accept your proposal. It’s a relief you came to your senses, my sweet niece. Just tell me you renounce your betrothed Lord Stark and you are mine.”

You swallow back thickly and feel your lips twitch down before you open your mouth and respond with dread. “I do. I renounce my betrothed Lord Cregan Stark.”

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

“Were my letters sent?”

“Yes,” Vanessa gives your question a response before leaving you in your solitude once again.

“<I love you.>”.

Tears slipped past her eyes…small beads of salt and sorrow littered water rolled down her face the same way they involuntarily run down your cheeks right now. You remember.

Having memories is a blessing. The way one's mind can recall things that happened in the past is truly fascinating, but right now, like every other second since your mother died, your mind and your memories are cruel. They bring such a visceral physical aching pain that can’t be tamed, it's so deafening and it makes you grow overwhelmed fast. It doesn't even let you find solace in the sun's touch because you refuse to welcome its cold embrace.

Usually admiring the sea is a quick calming effect too, but even though you’re surrounded by it as you remain in Dragonstone, you refuse to look at it; almost as if it is guilty of causing your pain.

Lastly, being with Aerion is a great way to bring a smile to your face and relax your current aching heart, but you can’t be your children’s mother right now. You tried, you really have tried, but that connection feels like it’s blocked by the entity that is your rage, grief, and sorrow. It feels like you can’t love them until you take care of that which brought you pain and took everything away from you. Is it cruel?

Maybe, but you did make it your task to at least study your twins to know how they look, and you can say that Daenys has the same blond-silver hair and blue eyes Aemond had. It’s too soon to tell but you have a feeling she’s going to look like him too. As for Daenerys, she’s smaller just like she was in the womb; she’s a lot slimmer than her sister too, and her eyes are…grey, but Vanessa says that she’s far too young to really know if that’s the eye color she’ll have forever. They might change colors as she grows older, so the jury is still out on who her father might be, more so because her hair color is white-silver just like yours, which, that in itself is good. It’s something you don’t have to worry about anymore.

So now all that you’re pestered with is that you can’t be the mother that your children so desperately need. With Aerion grown so attached to your mother, he’s missing her terribly. He won’t stop calling out for her, and it hurts because you’re here but you can’t make yourself comfort him, and it’s not because you don’t want to, you do, but…there’s just so much pain that you can't scrape up an ounce of any other emotion besides anger. Loud, throbbing, and agonizing anger that makes you scream out to the ground as you fold over the edge of the bed.

Does that ease everything that torments you? No, but it lets you stand up and walk out of your chambers—at least Aegon lets you have free reign of the castle since you are his betrothed and because he knows you won’t risk your brother's life since he holds it in the palm of his hand.

Alas, when you step out and try to walk to the library or anywhere you can spend your time where Aegon won’t be, you’re reminded of your mother. The memory of her haunts every hall and every corridor, so you can either return to your quarters or go…visit Baela. You haven’t gone to see her or attempted to free her from her imprisonment because once again it’s your emotions that keep you away, they’ve kept you captive and isolated in your lonesome to let you simmer in your rage-born hatred.

However, you have nothing to do now and Baela has no clue what happened—and how can you let her continue with her days thinking of a life that no longer exists? And if you can’t muster an ounce of warmth then she at least deserves to know the truth. Thus after some hesitation, you make your way to the cells at the lowest part of the castle, but linger in the shadows for a moment and debate returning to the isolation of your chambers as you imagine how the interaction could play out.

She could hate you and she could also blame you for your mother's death, but if she doesn’t know she wouldn’t have the ability to do any of those things.

Yet she needs to know, so after a deep breath you slowly walk out of the shadows and make your way to the only occupied cell. Right away Baela spots the shadow that casts on the cell floor and lets her curiosity get answered by looking over and seeing you standing at the other side of those bars.

“Baela,” you greet her with a whisper and she takes a few more hard blinks before she shoves herself to her feet and rushes to the bars, letting you notice that she looks slimmer than the last time you saw her, and she has burn scars on one part of her face. She also has short hair now too so she sports a cute afro.

“The twins,” she says after she uttered your name with a surprised gasp. “They’re born?”

You offer her the ghost of a smile and nod. “Yes, girls, Daenys and Daenerys.”

Baela sighs with relief and offers you a sweet and happy smile that you can’t mirror. She’s quick to notice it; along with your drooped eyes and falling lips. Yet before she can interject you beat her to speaking.

“Aegon told me about what happened. I’m sorry about Moondancer,” you offer her your condolences and linger where you are for a second before you step forward and gently wrap your hands around hers.

“She went out fighting,” her voice quivers, and her eyes water. “And she might have not killed Sunfyre but…”

“He can't fly because of Moondancer, he’s rotting away in the courtyard,” you cut her off to offer her some hope before the dread is revealed.

“Sunfyre is dying?” Baela queries with a twitch of her lips.

“He is.” You nod. “No doubt about it. He should die any day now.”

Baela musters a faint smirk before lifting her chin and slowly looking at you in confusion. “What are you doing here without chains? Is Astraea okay?”

You nod lightly. “She suffered some injuries at the Second Battle at Tumbleton, but she will be fine. She’s just off the Island for now.”

Baela scoffs and passes you an amused look. “Why? Are you two upset with each other?”

You swallow back thickly and let the silence build up as you admire the way she manages to smile in such gloomy times and in such a dark space.

“No,” you mumble after a moment of admiration and drop your head to let out a heavy sigh whilst your grip unknowingly tightens around her hands. “Baela listen to me…I’m here because I was hurt in the battle at Tumbleton. Astraea brought me here and Aegon and his party were able to hold me captive,” you pause and she tries to slip her grasp from under your hold, but you refuse to let go.

“Okay,” Baela whispers.

“In my captivity, I attempted to escape to find my mother, and I did find her, but,” you swallow back the lump that was quick to form in your throat. “She was already here. I couldn’t even sail past the island,” you mutter and find it hard to look up at Baela even though you’re curious about her current reaction.

“I tried to save her. I swam and ran to her to try and save her, but…I-I was too late,” your voice quivers and you feel Baela stiffen under your grasp—“they overwhelmed us and Ser Jason betrayed us, so they were able to take us. That’s…when…Aegon,” you gasp shakily. “He…killed her,” you let out with a growl as your anger overturns the sorrow that was clinging in your throat.

“No,” Baela whispers. “No. No…” she trails off and manages to yank her hands from under your grasp.

You continue to look at the ground beneath your feet, but you hear her back away in the growing silence.

And it’s in the silence that violent memories of that night come forth and you stop feeling sorry for yourself. You push back your grief and sorrow, and let your agony, your loud and throbbing rage come forth to take control of every part of you.

“But it’s okay,” you interject in a voice that finally holds emotion, but not warmth to comfort her, a coldness that only accompanies the bad. “It’s okay, Baela,” you continue and look at her with a gaze bathing in raging flames of malice, giving Baela chills when she finds your eyes.

“<Because I will avenge her. I will avenge our Queen,” you say in Valyrian so the guards nearby won’t understand. “I’m set to marry Aegon, and it’s when I become his Queen and garner some of his trust that I will kill him. We will.>”

Baela watches you with concern as your eyes grow dark and a wicked smirk paints on your lips. Yet she also feels relieved that your mother will be avenged. It’s that fire that will keep the war alive and bring justice.

However, you then continue adding on to your plans.

“<But not before I burn down the part of King’s Landing that killed Joffrey and forced my mother to flee,>” you reveal without remorse or a hint of deceit, only coldness and madness, and that’s when Baela’s concern outgrows her own thirst for revenge because hasn’t she lost enough?

“<But you can’t,>” she protests your plans in Valyrian and makes your face contort with confusion.

“<But I can,” you counter. “I have the means to. I have my dragon. And they deserve it. How can they go unpunished when they rose up against the crown? Besides,” you scoff. “Say what you want about Aegon, but he is still a Targaryen and those were our dragons, he’ll let me take revenge and put those people in their place.>”

Baela makes her way back to the bars and you see her eyes are still gleaming, but now as she speaks you know she doesn’t cry for your mother, she’s tearing up out of a gnawing worry. “<But what will raining fire down on those people cost but your life? Your own humanity?>”

“<Humanity?>” You quip and feel your face twist back with anger. “<Did they have humanity when they killed my son's dragon? Or every other dragon that lived in that pit, at that? Did they have humanity when they rose up against a woman trying to help them?!>” You raise your voice and grip onto those bars with a deadly grip.

“Perhaps not,” Baela counters in the common tongue. “<But that’s when you become the bigger person and show them we can still be a fraction they can trust and believe in. We can have them help us in our fight against the traitors that still remain!>”

You look at her as if she offended you and shake your head. “But don’t you get it? It was because they turned against my mother that she had to flee. It was because of them that she’s dead! There's no point in saving such traitorous and disgusting people. Don’t you see?”

“And don’t you see that raining fire will result in more smallfolk asking for your head?!” She exclaims. “Don't you see that it will turn you into someone unrecognizable that you won’t even comprehend? You will lose yourself!”

You clench your jaw and lower your jaw as your glare turns fierce.

“Let it go,” Baela warns. “Let all that anger and thirst for revenge go because it will kill you and I have already lost enough. We both have. Just do it the right away. It may be a longer path but it won’t get you killed.”

You blink as you take in her words. Not because you’re considering them, but because you don’t know what to answer with. Not at that moment.

“No,” is all you muster, and fall quiet again, letting her draw out a deep breath and linger in the growing silence for a moment before you finally blurt words that just bombard your mind. “What if it had been Jace?”

“Don’t,” Baela warns but you continue and lean your face towards the bar.

“I will,” you rebuttal and keep going. “If it had been Jace who had died in that riot you would not think twice about doing what I want to do even if it cost your life!”

“I said don’t!” Baela exclaims and slams her hands on the bars hoping it will scare you off, but you just stare deep into her eyes and try to press her.

Yet there’s no buttons to push. Anger perhaps reigned over her once, but you don’t see it now through the windows that let you take a peek at her tired soul.

“Do what you want,” she says and follows up with your name as she continues. “Just don’t expect me to have your back because your mother is the last person I will grieve in this war,” she remarks and backs away toward the shadows of her cell. “I won’t hold a candle for you anymore,” she adds with an attempt at sounding angry but she sounds more sad than anything else.

“Okay,” you mutter and blink repeatedly, feeling your eyes sting with tears that build up in your eyes, but you don’t let them fall. You draw in a deep breath and nod stiffly in comprehension before you turn and storm away with your agitation almost rising off your head in the form of steam.

How could she of all people expect you to let your anger go? Why can’t she muster the energy to keep pushing a little longer? Isn’t her grief, rage, and agony loud and chaotic too?

Nevertheless, when you reach the door and try to leave the dungeon, the door opens and guards barge in.

There’s no one else in this dungeon for them to take so even if you're pissed off at Baela, you stop in your tracks and turn on your heels to watch them open her cell.

“What are you doing?” You probe with curiosity and worry that form quickly.

When neither of the men answers, you march over to the man yanking Baela out of her cell, and demand an answer. “Where are you taking Lady Baela? Answer me!”

The guard looks at you from the corner of his eyes and deadpans. “The King wants to see her in the courtyard.”

What? What for?

These men won’t answer you, they hardly wanted to answer your previous question, so you turn swiftly and storm past them to reach the courtyard first. That’s when you come to a stop though and get riddled with disgust when the stench of rotting flesh hits your nose before you’re shocked to see that Sunfyre is no longer struggling to stay alive. He’s dead, and Aegon…when you let yourself take him in you notice that his eyes are red and puffy, but they're also mixed with anger.

“What do you want from Baela?” You demand him and struggle to hold his gaze.

“So you do come out of your chambers?” Aegon remarks and doesn’t hold amusement or any kind of teasing glint, his gaze remains narrowed and locked on you. “You’ll see.”

You huff and stomp toward him to keep pressing him, but his sad attempt at a Kingsguard puts themselves in between him and you, leaving only glares to be passed and challenged until Baela is brought forth.

“Sunfyre is dead,” Aegon blurts but there’s a hint of…sadness in his voice and why wouldn’t there be? No matter what you feel about Aegon, he was still a dragonrider and his bond with his dragon was like yours with Astraea, so it’s easy to tell why he expresses such sadness.

“And it’s because of you and your damned dragon,” Aegon hisses and has the guards move aside to let him pass and drag his wooden chair toward Baela. “So it’s good your dragon paid the price, but now you must pay it too.”

“No,” you interrupt him and take a big step forward to try and get close, but a guard once again steps in between and blocks you away from Aegon with his arm.

“I renounced my betrothed to be yours. I am going to be your willing wife once we return to King’s Landing,” you remind him with distress building in your voice. “Which means that our sins have been pardoned, you cannot kill her. Spare her life.”

Aegon tilts his head and shakes it. “No. I already spared your brother's life. He’s a threat to my claim, but I spared him because you and I will marry. That was the only condition you could be granted. No more. She will die for what she did,” he spats in return and then snaps his gaze to the guards holding Baela so they can drag her to the block.

“Aegon!” You exclaim and look at him with desperation. The same desperation you used when your mother was in a similar position. “Please!”

“<I love you.>”.

You gasp and try to move toward Baela now that you have free range, but the guard that had kept you from Aegon wraps his arms around your waist to hold you back, making those words that just echoed in your head get louder, and making the image of her, your mother start forming in your mind and threaten to paralyze you.

“<I love you.>”.

No. No, no, go away. Go away…

“Aegon, please,” you whisper and look over at him with tears that are quick to form in your eyes. “She’s still your cousin. She…she…” you trail off as the image of your mother appears before you in the same way before she died, so you’re forcefully ripped away from the current moment and return to that night.

You see her as clear as day all over again. You see her in front of Sunfyre.

You want to save her, but you can’t. Once again you’re useless in the situation and you watch as the fire bathes her all over again, ripping her away from you.

“NOO!” You bellow and reach out for her, but the moment you blink you’re brought back to reality and Baela is now taking your mother's place.

“The princess is right about sparing Lady Baela’s life,” the new maester interjects and glances at you with concern. “She is still a Velaryon, daughter to Lady Laena, and granddaughter to Lord Corlys. If you kill her he might turn his fleet against you and trap you here. There has been no word about him declaring war so it’s safe to assume you can negotiate a deal but only if his remaining kin are left alive.”

You keep your eyes on Aegon to wait and watch him ponder the decision laid before him while Baela’s head remains on the chopping block.

“Aegon,” you mumble but don’t gain his attention. He keeps his eyes averted and remains silent until he comes up with his answer.

“Alright then. Send a letter to the Sea Snake’s bastard…the living one,” he snickers and steals a glance at you so you know he’s taunting you. “Tell him if he doesn’t present himself in a fortnight to pay homage to his rightful liege, his niece Lady Baela will die.”

The maester bows and scurries off, whilst the guards pull Baela to her feet and without needing to be told, they start dragging her back where they had brought her from, letting you draw out a deep relieved breath, and part away from the guard still holding you back to get close to Baela.

Albeit it’s when you’re near her that she drags her eyes toward you and mutters. “I did not need your help nor did this change my mind about you.”

You blink in disbelief and draw in a shaky breath of shock before you push your nose up in the air and nod stiffly because this hasn’t changed your mind about what you need to do. “If that’s what you want I won’t beg for your attention.”

You let out a deep breath and watch her get taken away with your jaw clenched, and your eyes cloudy with tears unaware of the fact that that would be the last time you would see her. Not forever, but while you waited for a response you were restricted from going down to the dungeons—so much for free range. So you were left waiting in your quarters for days and days for any response whether it was a direct attack or a letter.

Then again, you did not mind being still and waiting because it let you plan what you wanted to do to get rid of Aegon once and for all. Besides, you weren't desperate to look for some way to talk to Baela either. Perhaps you should’ve snuck your way down to the dungeons and made peace with her—it’s what your mother and Jacaerys would have told you to do, but you heard what she said, and you were being honest in what you said too, so you kept your word while you were waiting in your solitude and just planned and let yourself get lost in your thoughts again and again.

That is until finally word came from Kings Landing that your grandfather Lord Corlys had declared his loyalty to Aegon, and that he was pardoned and accepted back in the Small Council after declaring his allegiance to the Broken King. In turn, Baela was spared from her fate and finally brought out from the dark dungeon, but not spared from chains. She would be kept in chains until you reached Kings Landing, which won’t be long now because at long last, “we’re going home”, left Aegon’s lips.

Thus finally after weeks, you were allowed to leave the grey walls and haunting halls of Dragonstone. Yet what was leaving Dragonstone really worth when every waking hour, with every step you take, and every breath you breathe you’re reminded of her, your mother, and her death.

The memory of her death is like a never-ending loop that the sight of the sea can’t wash away while you’re on your way back to King's Landing. Which is such a shame because you really love the sea...

“You know,” you say to Aegon after you debated long and hard if you wanted to speak to him or not—“it was the Smallfolk who killed all the dragons. They’re the ones to blame for not letting you have access to a new dragon.”

Aegon watches the waves splitting against the ship while you watch the clouds with a hint of a smirk.

“I know,” Aegon mutters.

“We have to respond to their treason and rebellion with fire,” you share as you catch a large, winged shadow form in the clouds. “We have to remind them that there are consequences to their actions and that we are still the crown and that they are sheep. Even if they did defy the opposing side.”

Aegon doesn’t respond right away, he stays quiet and continues to watch the way the waves part.

“What would you have me do?” Aegon almost snaps at you, but he manages to keep his composure and just sounds annoyed.

“Let me rain fire on them,” you share the plan you’ve been brewing for a while. “Not the entire city, just a section of it so they remember we hold the power. That they have to look up at us. We are not their equal.”

Aegon slowly diverts his eyes away from the waves and starts to turn his head to look at you, but before he can take a glance the sound of clicking coming from above steals his attention before a roar that rattles the wooden boards and shakes the water's surface blasts from the clouds.

“Why should I trust you not turning against me when you’re on your dragon?” He asks the right question as claws and a purple-scaled belly break the clouds as Astraea reveals only a part of herself first before she dives down in front of the running ship and quickly yet shakily swoops up to the air with a large fish caught in her claws.

“Because,” you say with a faint smile as you watch your dragon go back to hiding in the clouds. “You have my brother's life in your hands and I will do anything to keep my last remaining brother alive.”

You finally drop your eyes to look down at Aegon and await his response, knowing that he knows that if he doesn’t act, people will view him as weak and he doesn’t want people to keep thinking that about him. Not anymore because after all that’s happened he’s still alive and the King.

“Fine. Do it,” Aegon gives in, causing a wicked smirk to break on your lips.

——

“Who is it that you wanted to be?”

A peaceful tranquility can almost be felt radiating from Shae’s Manse as the brisk wind running over King’s Landing almost seems to carry it in between its gusts that hit you while you sit upon your dragon; causing your long sleeves designed like dragon wings, and the end of your crimson dipped skirt to blow behind you while your shining silver chain head peace that falls over your face like a veil, sings as the wind makes the silver chains hit each other lightly.

“Besides wanting to be a sailor, or an explorer, or a singer, I wanted to be Queen; a kind one like my great, great grandmother Queen Alyssane, and my ancestor Queen Rhaenys.”

You’ve had time to think about what you wanted to do and yes there were moments in time when you hesitated and wanted to back off from your plan for the sake of the innocent lives that had to do with running your mother out of town. However, just as your plans fire is going to die out, the sparks of anger, revenge, and agony keep it alive because that same mother returns to haunt your thoughts, and then you can’t stand the thought of the people’s betrayal going unpunished.

Besides, they had their chance and they wasted it. They chose fear, so you will give them something to fear.

“<Forward.>” You command Astraea in Valyrian and nudge the handles down regardless of your verbal command. All without changing a single expression on your face. Even if you're full of rage, your exhaustion, grief, and agony keep their claim on your face, exposing someone who looks empty and tired of everything life has thrown at them, even something as small as expressing emotion.

Then again you are tired. You’re tired of it all. You just want silence and a moment of stillness and where else can you find it but here? In this current moment as Astraea flies past the wall and brings the Smallfolk a moment of darkness as her shadow casts over the streets, homes, and busybodies.

However, the darkness doesn’t scare them right away because when they look up they see The Adventurous Astraea, a dragon known as tolerant to people, protective and kind to those you love, and obedient to her rider. So they look away from the purple beast. Some welcome the dragon as they start to feel immediately safer due to all the criminal activity that has ravished the city. However, they should have known. They should have expected consequences for their crimes.

No bad deed goes unpunished and you are here now for justice. You are your mother and Joffrey’s revenge.

You are their terror.

“Dracarys,” you sneer and lift your chin slightly to look down at the people with a change in your gaze, going from an exhausted and empty look to a pierced glare reflecting the roaring fire as it falls from Astraea’s mouth and rains down on the people.

There’s no hesitation, no pause, or a small taste of justice. The cries and screams don’t reach your heart because now it’s impenetrable. Like a nasty and quick plague, the fire keeps unfolding over the streets of Shae’s Manse, causing that beautiful tranquility that once traveled past the city walls to erupt into an uproar of chaos.

Some people that were lucky to escape the flames that ate away at everything and everyone in its way, found salvation in Flea Bottom. However, the same can’t be said for the people who try to escape toward Rhaeny’s Hill because you and Astraea turn your terror toward it.

If only the Dragonpit had been intact because people could be safe and untouched by the fire in there, but alas, it was the Smallfolk who caused the Dragonpit to fall when they killed those dragons. It was their own stupidity that destroyed their biggest means of salvation because Astraea doesn’t put it up in flames, you make sure to leave it untouched by any flames.

When you fly past what was once the city’s greatest wonder, you continue to spread your terror with more vigor. With more rage and pure visceral hate because if it wasn’t for them your mother would have never fled King’s Landing! She wouldn’t have fallen in Aegon’s clutches! And she would still be alive!

But no, they ran her out of her home. They killed your brother Joffrey and took the person you loved the most. Them! They did it! Every single filthy person below was the cause of your mother's death. They robbed you of your hope, joy, and light and left you in the dark void where all you have is your pain that throbs in the same way your heart beats. And with every single ba-dum, there's a reminder of what you lost and the pain it brings. And with every other beat the pain and the hate that was already so overwhelming spreads.

How much more of it can you handle? You don’t want to hurt, but you can’t forget. The pain is constant and the memory is haunting and loud! You just want it to stop!

“Please, please, please,” you beg in your mind and close your eyes, but Sunfyre ripping your mother apart flashes in your mind. You see her dying over and over again and it all grows louder.

The cries and pleas coming from below grow tenfold, adding the volume in your head. The fire's constant roar heightens too and it all starts to swirl in your head until you let out a blood-curdling scream that finally brings silence.

The fire that you rain doesn’t come to a stop, you continue to spread it as you fly down the Street of Seeds, but everything is quiet. There’s a peace in the chaos that you alone relish in until finally you hit Cobble Square and have Astraea finally stop, letting you tune into the noise once again.

However, rather than turning your dragon around and flying toward the Red Keep, you descend your dragon and land on Cobble Square to watch the beauty of the flames as they rise toward the sky, and the thick smoke pollutes the air. Furthermore in that moment as you stand there taking it all in, a swarm of people who were unscathed, and people who were caught on fire run toward you, but not to seek your attention nor is it because they’re full of wonder by your appearance. The people ran past you in terror. They don’t try to touch you or ask for a simple greeting, they shove past you because they’re terrified.

And that's all you wanted, but not all you see. You also see your mother standing in the middle of the chaos that runs at you; she glows in the chaos and outshines the bright flames, but doesn’t carry any notable emotion. She just watches you and you watch her as if telling her that this is all for her.

After a lingering minute of the world just being about her illusion and you, you decide to turn away and mount your dragon to fly to the Red Keep. This time when you land, people don’t run, nor do they look at you with fear. You find horror in the eyes of the survivors like Alicent, Lord Borros, Lord Larys, and your grandfather Lord Corlys as they stand in the courtyard after having greeted their King.

Your grandfather tries to find the answer in your eyes, but when he finds your gaze past your veil of chains he sees a glossy yet narrowed and burning gaze. That girl he was looking for is gone; he sees that when you stop by him, but that's not all because he’s the only one who looks deeper than the surface. Everyone else sees a mad woman who couldn’t be stopped because it was the King himself who allowed the terror to happen.

“Welcome home, Princess. It’s good to see you again.” Your grandfather breaks his stunned silence, making you slowly find his gaze and neither smile nor frown. Your gaze remains glossy and hardened and keeps holding that fiery behind them that tells him without a need for words that there’s nothing good about being back.

“Did they find the guilty party for the uprising?” You ask bluntly without returning his warmth despite the fire you hold. “I want to see them”

Your grandfather sighs and hesitates before he nods. “Yes, but,” he pauses. “The King wants to wait until after the wedding to pass judgment on the guilty. He is eager…” he trails off and you avert your gaze and nod stiffly before you walk without bothering to greet anyone else even though Lord Borros had restored peace to the city, and Alicent couldn’t keep her eyes off you, almost like she wanted to talk to you but also couldn’t bring herself to do it, so instead she just stands there watching you until you completely disappear inside and aren't seen again. Not like before.

Before you were spotted in the halls of the Red Keep frequently. When you were young it always varied whether you were alone or accompanied, but you truly lived up to the name they had given you, “The Golden Girl.” It was always such a delight for so many to see you. And when you got older, when you returned from the North, people often sought out a mere glimpse of your appearance as you had grown more glorious, and it’s not like you didn’t give them a reason not to seek you out, because oh, you did. You intrigued them more with the warmth that flowed from you and embraced their presence like the sun embraced everyone it saw.

Now no one sought you out, you were not a glorious presence riddled with warmth. You would be like a dark cloud bringing in a storm that everyone wants gone and wants to avoid; if you would get out of your quarters that is, but you didn’t. You stayed inside your quarters as if locked inside, making everyone believe you felt safer and more comfortable within your four walls, but that was far from the truth. You’re miserable. You can hardly sleep or stand being awake. You hardly eat and don’t do anything you used to like. You hardly see your children. You’re just there wallowing in everything that torments you.

When the day of the wedding rolls around (which was only two days after you returned) you did manage to get in a few winks of sleep and when you woke up there he was, your husband, your Aemond. He’s still asleep with his long blond-silver hair in a braid, and his calm breaths making his chest and nostrils rise and fall ever so gently.

He honestly looks like a beautiful piece of artwork that you can admire for hours, but alas, you want to be that much closer to him so you raise your hand right from under you and reach out for his cheek to stroke it.

Yet, when your hand is about to make contact with his flesh you're abruptly reminded that no one is lying beside you, and Aemond is in fact dead. You wake up alone in a cold room looking at an empty space, remembering, like a slap to the face, that today is your wedding to the man you hate.

You could jump out of your balcony and avoid the entire thing, but they’re all now depending on you, aren’t they? Everyone that died? They depend on you to try and get your mother's own blood on her rightful throne. You can feel the pressure of their haunting hands holding you up, pushing you to keep fighting another day and walk down that aisle to play your part in this war still kept alive by sparks and people fanning the flames.

Thus you let the army of women get you ready. You drape on your heavy ivory wedding gown dipped in crimson red, and hide your grieving and hardened face behind a crystal-littered veil before you finally drag your feet out of your quarters.

This time around your wedding isn’t private nor is it done under Valyrian traditions like when Aemond and you married on that hill with no one but your dragons, Helaena, his mother, and Aegon. The sun isn’t out, and the sea isn’t accompanying you either, snow graces Kings Landing as it gently falls from the sky, and hundreds pairs of eyes are forced to be your witness to show the people that at long last the Targaryen family had mended their differences and rejoined their forces as one.

War will surely end now, and peace will finally return to the realm!

That’s all they want, that’s all they care about. They don’t care about Aegon marrying you, they stopped caring about you the moment you turned your dragon against them, so they don’t care if you look miserable. Not even the highborn Lords that stand nearby care that you never lift your head off the ground throughout the ceremony done under the eyes of the Seven. They just care about finally reeling you in and locking you away to bring an end to the war (they started).

The only people who care are Cregan who is too far to do anything to stop the wedding, and you, but they can’t hear you screaming and crying because you suffer quietly and act like the cooperating princess. That’s what you let Aegon see when he drapes his cloak on your back to signify that you’re at last his, cooperation and emptiness, and that’s what you continue to show him when he lifts the veil off your face. However, he ignores that as he's eager to finally know the taste of your lips.

“You truly are radiant today,” he says with a faint smirk, making you offer him a soft scoff as a response before you stand to your given height after having to crouch to his level, causing the veil to slip over on your face as you turn away from him to let the ceremony continue to the second portion; your coronation.

However, as much as you dreamt and as excited as you once were to hear those glorious words directed at you. Now you simply tune them out and don’t even think about smiling or mustering any ounce of pride when the time comes for the crown to be placed upon your veiled-covered head.

Albeit you also don’t look like there’s no soul inside your body. When you turn to face the crowd of people, your eyebrows are slightly furrowed, the corner of your lips droop with your faint scowl, and the crystal fragments on your veil cascade down so perfectly that it looks like there’s tears rolling down your cheeks, leading the audience to see you as some ethereal beauty; like those tapestries and statues of beautiful weeping gods. However, it’s all a trick of the bright white light reflecting through the windows of the Great Sept, because the mist in your eyes reflects the flames of ferocity still very much alive inside.

——

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

It’s a good thing Aegon can’t get his cock up anymore or else the night would be unpleasant and traumatizing. And it was almost traumatizing, but when it came to the bedding ceremony he couldn’t make it work, no matter the hunger in his eyes, so he began to drink and sent you off after he told you to swear that you wouldn’t tell a soul what happened.

But who could you tell? Baela? She doesn’t talk to you even though she’s not living in a cell anymore.

Vanessa? Sure, but the conversation will get a couple of laughs before it’s over and done with.

Rhaena? She’s still in the Eyrie and by the time she responds your amusement would have died down, so no there’s no one you could have actually told, he’s made sure of that…

Nevertheless, it’s a good thing the bedding ceremony didn’t last—or start to begin with because now you can put all your focus on the significant matter at hand.

“Ser Cane!” You greet excitedly as you watch him taking his hood off as he’s climbing up the steps of the Red Keep.

“Your Grace,” he responds with a hint of warmth in his otherwise nonchalant voice. “Look at you,” he muses and when he finally reaches you on top of the staircase he bows before he puts his arms out. “I hope it was a safe delivery.”

You avert your gaze and respond quietly. “It was a rather stressful one but the three of us are alive so it was safe.”

Your sworn protector sighs and drops one arm back to his side while he lets the other one hover over your shoulder for a second before he lets it fall gently. “My deepest condolences about your loss, my Queen.”

You blink repeatedly and feel your eyes sting at the weight of his words because you can hear that he actually means what he says, but you refuse to cry so you just take a deep breath and look up at him with a thankful smile. “Thank you Ser…was your trip here pleasant?”

Ser Cane drops his hand and shrugs. “As good as it gets.”

You scoff softly in response before you point your head inside. “Let’s get inside. It’s cold out here.”

Without any protest or attempt to add anything right there on the staircase where you have prying eyes, Ser Cane follows you inside to a secluded corner barely touched by nearby candlelight.

“How was the wedding?” Ser Cane asks with a hint of amusement.

“Pft,” you blow out and turn around on your heels with a smirk. “I got to wear beautiful gowns, and I now own beautiful crowns so I’ll say it was pleasant.”

Ser Cane scoffs and when you’re facing each other under the faint candlelight you begin to fiddle with your rings and probe. “Is Cregan okay? Safe?”

“He was worried,” Ser Cane admits as he watches your downcasted gaze. “He almost went mad with worry, but when we heard word of your wellbeing he calmed down. I’m sure he would be here in a heartbeat given the chance, but he’s keeping his head up and doing his job. He’s waiting on his army, they should reach him soon.”

Your lips fall as you nod gently in comprehension and take it all in without letting the news ache your heart too much. You feel it get tugged at as you imagine what Cregan might be feeling and thinking after you had finally gotten your chance to start your long-awaited story together, but he can’t take up all your thoughts nor can you let him torment you too harshly because there’s still a sliver of hope. If he gives you one more chance then there will be no more obstacles after this.

“How did he take the news about me being engaged to Aegon?” You have to ask as that specific thought has been killing you since he couldn’t respond back with a letter of his thoughts on the matter.

“I don’t know,” Ser Cane admits with a sigh. “I’m sorry, your Grace. He read the letter in his private quarters and when he came out, well…you know how he is. Cool as ice.”

The corner of your lips twitch up and you nod in agreement before you ask one more thing. “You didn’t tell him why you left, did you?”

Ser Cane scoffs. “Of course not. Who do you take me for?”

You smile and tilt your head to the side. “I am not doubting you Ser, I just know that if he had asked, you wouldn’t have denied him an answer. You’re respectful that way.”

Ser Cane pulls something out of his satchel that’s hidden behind his cloak and then shakes his head. “Not with your personal matters, My Queen,” he says with a small proud smile that stays on his face as he hands you a small flask wrapped with parchment paper.

Before you pull the paper off the flask though, you offer him a flustered smile and then proceed to take the paper off to read the words it holds.

“You are going down the right path.

I will see you soon enough. Until then.

-Alys”

You smile softly and with admiration, before you hand the letter to Ser Cane so he can put it away while you lift your hand to look at the slow-acting poison you asked Alys to concoct for you.

“Great. Now I hope you’re able to stand on your feet for a while longer, Ser because we have work to do,” you let him know with a smug hint in your tone of voice as you hand him the flask so he can keep it hidden for you in his satchel for now.

“Of course, I can,” he assures you, making you flash him a smirk before you depart from your dimly lit corner and return to your quarters, but not to stay there. You take the hidden passage hidden within the walls of your quarters and guide Ser Cane down corridors festered with rats and only lit by the torch that you both hold in your hands.

There are many times when your sworn protector wants to question where you’re leading him, but he trusts you so follows you blindly until finally, you hit a stone wall that holds a doorknob.

“Here,” you point your chin to the doorknob on the wall.

“Are you sure?” Ser Cane asks for your safety.

You hum in agreement and take his torch before you step aside to let him open the door.

Once the light from inside the room casts outside you hang the torches on the wall, and let Ser Cane take the lead to the mysterious room.

“Who goes there?” A voice from inside carries out, but doesn’t get answered as Ser Cane stomps in, nor when you strut behind him and get surrounded by the brighter room. You let the sight of your presence answer the question your grandfather, Baela, and Lord Larys ask themselves.

“Granddaughter,” your grandfather gasps as he watches you quietly stride toward the chair at the end of the table.

“Queen,” Ser Cane corrects him as he closes the secret door. “She’s your Queen.”

“Your Grace,” your grandfather corrects himself whilst Lord Larys immediately greets you with the right title and Baela stays quiet.

Albeit you ignore the greetings so it doesn’t matter. You just take a seat on the chair that steals all of the attention of the room, and sit up straight with your nose in the air and a smirk dancing on your lips.

“Sit my Lords and Lady, we have a coup to plan.”

A/N- Ser Cane the father that stepped up

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104 @r-3dlips @strangersunghoon @just-pure-trash @ethereal-athalia @missyviolet123 @callsignwidow @xunquish-blog @tabathastan @weepingfashionwritingplaid @answer-the-sirens @silverlightsaber @rosey1981 @amortentiaaaa

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melliemell · 1 day ago

Text

Pairing: Akutagawa x reader

Contents: SFW, hesitant reader (for intimacy), little shit to actual good boyfriend akutagawa, crappy braiding attempts, fluff and make-outs, Approx. 1.3k words

“I don’t see the point in this. It is absurd.”

You rolled your eyes, not bothering in the slightest to answer that question. Getting Akutagawa to agree to… this, was a hard enough quest to begin with. No way were you spoiling it by wasting time on useless arguing.

You had him exactly where you wanted.

“Just keep doing it, no buts,” you sighed, leaning further back. Feeling Akutagawa’s body embrace you from behind was simply too pleasant; and sinking deeper against his chest, your head huddled under his chin as he struggled to detangle another failed attempt at a small braid– it was simply heaven in the flesh. His cute, scrunched up face of concentration-bordering-on-annoyance was the highlight of the show. You found yourself glancing up more often than not, making his attempts at braiding even more bothersome with your movement.

“If you have expectations from this, drop it.” Akutagawa said, gaze narrowed as another lock came loose. His eye twitched. “I can think of better ways to spend my time than this. It will not lead to anything.”

“That’s not the point.” You stretching lazily against him. He was way comfier than the couch you sat on. Having such quick access to his chest made it all the easier to turn and squish your face against it. “The point’s that I like it,” you said, voice muffled.

“You’re a creature of simple pleasures. What are you, a cat?”

You snorted. “Well… I could purr for you all night long, babygirl.”

Akutagawa’s hands stopped. You never quite knew how far you could go with your teasing. That was the fun of it, really, seeing how he’d react each time.

Akutagawa sighed. He cupped your cheek, drawing you up until he held your chin between his thumb and index finger. Cool gray eyes locked into yours. “I can’t even begin with deciding which part of your statement to address first. Was that a bad joke?”

“I would never joke on such matters. Never,” you said, voice filled the severity found only in honest men. Almost. You’ve been getting quite good at bulshitting lately, you couldn’t deny it.

Akutagawa hardly seemed fazed though. But he was used to your antics, so it scarcely counted. “You’re being ridiculous. At least it’s amusing you.”

You sat straighter, pulling his hand from your chin to rest against your nape instead. “I’m a hard worker. Being funny for two drains a lot out of you, I’m afraid.”

“Are you by chance implying something?” Akutagawa said, eyes boring into yours. His other hand landed on your waist, pulling you in gently.

He never quite managed to pull his trademark intimidating guy facade since you became partners. But you humoured him still. “Believe what you want to believe, I see.” You ran your fingers through Akutagawa’s hair, drawing a quiet sigh from him.

“What, are you calling me a bore?” he asked, looking down to your lips/looking down his nose..

Your hand found the hem of shirt. You smiled.

“Yeah. What you gonna do about it, mister uptight?”

“You leave me no choice on the matter, you scoundrel,” Akutagawa said and your smile grew wider as he leaned in.

The kiss was a chaste, delicate thing. Akutagawa’s lips brushed against your, pointy nose grazing against your cheek as he tilted your faces closer. He was all angles and no tenderness… usually. Drawing out this side of him had specific requirements, and even then it was a hard-pressed battle to win. Even holding his hand for the first time was an adventure; one of many failed attempts and sharp glares of warning. Especially in public, god forbid.

But now they engulfed you, Akutagawa holding you firmly against him. You could never figure out how to efficiently keep him warm, but it didn’t matter now because every light brush of a cool finger against your nape sent pleasant shivers down your spine. You snuggled closer, your hands sneaking around his waist. Akutagawa hummed in approval against your lips.

You liked those moments, melting into the comfort of it easily. You could have gone on forever, tasting Akutagawa against your lips. Until you noticed a cool hand trail around your back, slowly prying the hem of your shirt loose to stroke against your belly. You tensed involuntarily, feeling his thumb brush beneath your waistband.

“Hey… quick question?” you breathed in between peppered kisses.

“Yes?”

“Are we…” you searched your mind for the right words, only to feel your face begin to flush. “I mean, where are going here? Doing stuff wise.”

Akutagawa pulled back, considering you with a blank face. “Judging by my quite sharp memory–”

You groaned, flopping against his chest.

“Allow me to finish, please,” Akutagawa said, voice even. “You stated the ability, and I quote– to purr all night for me. Whatever that would imply. How creative.”

You huddled closer, nose poking at Akutagawa’s lower neck. “...yeeah,” you grumbled.

Akutagawa stroked your hair, falling silent for a moment. Too long. You were about to ask if something was wrong when Akutagawa continued.

“Now,” he said. “I’m not opposed to you making a fool of yourself, it is a frequent occurrence after all–” He shushed your huff of protest. “–but I’ve also acquired a very useful ability of recent. Care to hear of it?”

Akutagawa was guarding his expressions to the notch, ever the image of nonchalance. If it weren’t for the way he spun around his words, drawing out their conclusion with eloquent filler, you would’ve been more worried.

But this here? Yeah, you were unavoidably being teased by a man who thinks dry–commenting how funny your jokes are is essentially the same as laughing at them.

Please.

You rose up languidly, drooping your head to the side as you eyed Akutagawa warily. Here we go. “Do go on, then.”

Akutagawa leaned in, expression serious. His hand reached up to poke a finger between your creased brow. “I can see this.”

“This what?” you said, feeling lost.

“It’s not there now, but nonetheless– it was.”

“Okey, mister cryptic.”

“Now, now” Akutagawa began, drawing a surprised uhh from you as he spun you around, his chest to your back again. “I believe I was busy with wasting my time.” And his hands trailed to your hair, his clumsy attempts at braididng starting anew.

“But–” you shut your mouth. As pleasant as this was, it didn’t answer anything. You huffed in annoyance. “You’re being the weird one now.”

For a moment no answer came, Akutagawa’s hands stilled to brush liggtly against your shoulders. You glanced back curiously.

His hands resumed their braiding, eyes focused. “I don’t wish for you to feel… uncomfortable, around me. You were worried earlier. And you’re too expressive; an easily exploitable weakness. Just because I’m not as skilled at reading people it doesn’t apply to you.”

Oh, you stupid man. “So you were worried?”

“I was merely paying attention,” Akutagawa retorted. He stubbornly kept his gaze on his work.

You… hadn’t really noticed, but you did stiffen up a moment ago. It’s not that you disliked his touch, the contrary even. But uncertainty was there and demanding, and pushing things too fast when they shouldn’t be was a tendency you had. A bad one.

You leaned back further, signing contently as Akutagawa brushed against your neck with deft fingers. He really was shit at braiding. But you wanted this, it was the plan. And so what, you were in no hurry for anything, were you?

He was a solid presence behind you; a promise of staying exactly where he was. Maybe you’ll smooch him later again.

Or not.

Okay definitely you will, but that wasn’t the point. The point was you could just rest against each other here as well, and it would still be enough for both of you, no expectations or pressure.

Man, what a life indeed.

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd fanfic #bsd x reader #bsd x y/n #bsd x you #bsd ryunosuke #bsd akutagawa #akutagawa ryuunosuke #akutagawa ryunosuke #akutagawa x reader #akutagawa x you #akutagawa x y/n #ryuunosuke bsd #ryuunosuke akutagawa #ryuunosuke x reader

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pixeldolly · 2 days ago

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My Apocalypse Challenge Rules

@coriel-muroz asked me which rules I'm using for my Apocalypse Challenge, and I promised I'd post them. They are largely Phaenoh's, but with a few tweaks/additions by me, which will be written in red. Some of these changes just made sense to me, others I decided to implement because I found they made things more fun (for me).

Mind you, these are just the Restriction Level 1 rules, because I'm nowhere near unlocking Level 2.

Restriction Level #1

You cannot move in or marry in any Sims or pets until the founder reaches the top of their Career.

Family Aspiration Perks may not be redeemed before the above requirement has been met. Interesting Rule Change:

Here you should include a few community lots in your hood at the moment. A military base, a soup kitchen/food bank, and a First Aid station may be built and sims may visit them a few times provided they follow certain rules. While these comm lots *may* include items currently restricted, such as a restaurant stove to feed the hungry. They still need to be very VERY limited.

As for visiting them, the entire family needs to visit when you go. Protection in numbers, you can't leave anyone at home either. If you have toddlers or infants currently, you will have to wait. You may only go out once a week, and you need to visit all before going to any a second time.

Going out only once a week means the rest of the time your founder Sim will be stuck at home skilling/going to work, which is a little dull. The most interesting/fun situations take place on community lots, so I decided to let them visit one community lot per day, instead of all of them in one day.

Your sims may NOT take a job without visiting their new 'place of employment' first. Send your founder down to the military base, first aid station, or soup kitchen to become their newest 'recruit'. Community lots are allowed to break their own rules but no others. You are allowed to eat at the Culinary community lot, and you are allowed to fish at the Oceanography lot, however, you can't have electrical lights at the Medical facility until Science has been lifted, understand?

I can't be bothered getting a bunch of non-electrical lights, plus I have plenty of cool apocalyptic light fixtures, so I get around this restriction by placing a (decorative) generator on each lot. There, electricity is working again!

Update/Rule Change: Teen jobs are restricted even further. Its really just not safe enough out for teens to go by themselves. They may join the military, but if they want to be in medical or culinary, they may only take that job if one of the adults in the house also has that job. Once they themselves are adults they may, of course, switch jobs by visiting a different career center comm lot.

Culinary

You may only prepare food once per sim day. Once any Sim has prepared food, no other may do so for the rest of the day. A Sim making a one-serving meal counts. Baby bottles do not. Filling any pet food bowl counts against the family's "one meal per day".

Sims may not purchase or use anything from the Ovens or Small Appliance category except for the cheapest grill. I also used a hotplate I downloaded, which I think is appropriate. Its hunger rating is only 1.

Grilled Cheese Aspiration Perks may not be redeemed.

Sims may not prepare Gelatin.

Sims may not purchase or use the Nectar Bar or Vending Machines.

Sims may not Give Treats to pets.

Sims may not use the Tea Time table.

Sims may not purchase or use birthday cakes, wedding cakes, the bakery display case or any catering buffet tables.

Sims may NOT store leftovers – in the fridge, in inventory, marked for sale, or in a display case.

Sims may not prepare food, purchase, or eat on community lots, save for one plate per sim at the Food Center. What's the point of building a food center if it's just for show?

You may not use the Delivery menu on the phone to order Pizza or Chinese food.

Only Sims in the Culinary career track can make use of the Chocolate Maker.

Once a Culinary master emerges from the household, new ways are invented to preserve food. Sims learn better ways to cook the artificial food and how to rewire home appliances so they can be used again. They also open up supply chains to coffee growers. All Culinary restrictions are lifted.

Medical

Sims may not use medicine to become well.

You may not give dogs a bath or purchase or use the litter box.

No showers, Medicine Cabinet, or changing tables may be purchased or used.

If a rain collector is present on the lot (there's one in the Castaways conversions packs), a sim may have a bath after it has rained. The rest of the time I keep the tub in their inventory so they can't sneak a bath when I'm not looking. I might also download a mod to enable Sponge Baths at all times.

Pools,sprinklers, hot tubs, and saunas may not be built or used.

Whenever Sims Woohoo, they MUST choose Try for Baby.

That's not how it works, nobody is fertile 100% of the time. Instead, I enable Risky Woohoo in ACR with a fairly high chance of pregnancy (20%)

Sims may not purchase Vamprocillin-D, WitchBeGone, Lycanthropic-B, or Plantophic-C.

Only Sims currently employed in the Medical career may use the Surgical Dummy

Once a leader in the medical field emerges from the family and leads the Red Cross restoration effort, clean running water is restored to the region. Supplies of medicine and contraceptives are now available to the people who need it. The Medical restrictions are lifted.

Military

Sims may not travel to any community lots, except to the required three once a week.

You may not invite over any Sims with two exceptions:

Sims may invite over other Sims they are have red hearts with, or are engaged to. (True love knows no fear.)

If your Sim owns a car (and has it placed on a driveway on the lot), you may also invite over Sims your Sim is best friends with. (Your Sim spins by and picks the buddies up.)

You may purchase the Military Maxis Car after reaching lvl 6.

Teenage Sims may not Ask Permission to Go Out or Sneak Out

Sims may not go Hiking/Jogging or Walk off the lot. I make an exception for Psychosim's Zombie Hunting mod, because it's just so thematically appropriate (military Sims only, ofc)

Only Sims currently in the military can use the Obstacle Course object.

Sims in the military can offer self-defence training to other members of the community at the Obstacle Course. They can't protect everyone all the time, and this way Sims can become better able to fend off zombie attacks. (Community Lot Skilling mod needed)

Once a brave general from the family leads the local National Guard in a strike force against the zombie hordes, the streets will become safe to travel again and the Military restriction is lifted. This is also where I plan to get rid of my Zombie Apocalypse mod (and the zombies) but it's up to you!

Security Pet Zombies, mobsters, anarchists, burglars . . . there is a lot out there that can get you. Even if these threats don't directly harm Sims, the fear of them does. A thick blanket of paranoia has spread over the region. Sleep does not come easy to a fearful mind, and the idea of these bad guys out to get them is enough to keep most Sims awake at night.

Sims may not sleep in a bed or on a couch with an Energy rating higher than 3.

Once a family pet is inducted to the Pet Corps, Sims begin to rid themselves of paranoia and get in the habit of sleeping soundly at night. The Service Pet restriction is lifted. If you do not have Pets EP, then this restriction becomes part of the Military restriction, and is lifted when that one is.

#sims 2 #ts2 #the sims 2 #sims2 #sims 2 apocalypse challenge #apocalypse challenge rules

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icarusredwings · 9 hours ago

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Baby talk 2/2

Trying something new. Be kind (take 2)

A very little wade fic

Ft. Wo-wo, Mama, and 'essy

For @sirwadewilsonfromimgur because apparently people like my brain

"Logan? It's a bit late, what's wrong?" The voice asks over the phone. He wasn't sure why he called her. Why he called Jean. But he felt like she might know what to do.

"Yeah.. sorry, i-.. It's nothing.. I'll go if you're busy - I just.." he mumbles, phone in his shoulder as he begins boiling some water for the pasta.

"Logan... tell me." She says, in a way of someone who knows he won't tell her if he feels like he's bothering her.

"So, I'm... er.." He turns to see Wade laying in his pile of stuffies, watching the movie with large eyes and a curious o shaped mouth. Right now, they were at the part where she was singing in her secret cave, Wade's eyes glued to the screen in awe, as if he hadn't seen this movie 40 times already. "Babysitting... and I don't really know what to do?"

"Oh.. okay. Well how old are they?"

"Young. Really young. Barely talks." He says, trying not to sound nervous out of his mind as he preps the chicken to be cooked.

"That can be as young as 12 months. Are they potty trained?" She asks, trying to help best she could over the phone. Not like Logan would ever let them see him like this anyway.

"God I fucking hope so." Is all he can awnser with a big sigh. "I don't know, I just.. it's so much different then the kids at school."

Chuckling, he could feel that 'well no duh' look in her eyes and that smug smile. "Well, I would hope that 12 month olds are different than 12 year olds. That's 12:1, Logan." She says, and he grunts, nodding.

"Yeah, yeah, I just.. you read parenting books, right? What do they like? Babys, I mean."

Instantly Wade turns, Giving him a small glare and a pount. "MmMmh.."

"My bad, kids this little." He didn't need to understand the whines to know exactly what he was saying.

'I'm not a baby' He always said that.. man.. Wade not talking felt so weird, and it freaked him out, getting to the point he would subconsiously check to make sure he was still consious and that he COULD talk if wanted, but he didn't.

Wade was just quiet today. Al must think it's a blessing but to Logan? This was a nightmare.

"I do" She laughs again, giggling. "Why? Are they misbehaving?"

"Well... No.. but i'm afraid I might..." He mutters, blowing his cover at pretending not to be anxious about this entire thing.

"Mama?" He hears, indirectly awnsering. "No bub. Not your mama."

The woman giggles again from the side conversation. "I'm sure you'll be fine. Do you want me to-"

"NO!!" He screams, watching as Al got spooked, drawing her pistol on Wade, and for once, she had a good shot. "Get off of me!!"

"Well, jeez Logan, you could have just -"

"Sorry! I have to go!!"

Beep.

"Logan??.. He hung up on me." Jean says, miles away. Logan just knows it.

"Althea! It's Wade!! It's just Wade!!" He shouts, quickly coming over to take the gun from her. "He's just.. really little right now. God damn kid, are you tryna die!?" He yells at him, seeing him only try to curl up more into the woman, tearing up.

"Althea, why don't you go sleep in the room, okay?"

The older woman grumbles, shifting. "Baby you can't lay on me like that. You're too big." She says, much calmer now as Logan pulled Wade off of her and set him back on the floor.

"You're too big for that, kid, you're gonna hurt her!" He tells him, only making Wade feel worse.

"..mama?"

"No! No mama. She dosn't feel good and-"

"Logan. Enough. I can take care of myself." She mutters, groaning as she got up.

".. Mama?" Wade says again, his mind very one tracked at the moment. He knew three things. That he wanted held. He liked Mama. And he didn't know why he was so upset with him. Did he hurt her? Was she okay? Wade wished he could ask, but no words seemed to come out when he tried.

"Hi, Honey, Mama's gonna go take a nap. Behave. Both of you." The old woman mumbles, cupping his face and giving him a kiss on the head, stumbling towards the room. "Wake me up when dinner's ready."

"Yes ma'am.." Logan mutters, glancing down at Wade, watching as he wiped his tears, pulling Fluffy and his legs into his chest, sniffling.

Swallowing, he wasn't even sure if he would understand if he apologized, but he needed to anyway. "Hey.. I'm sorry for yelling at you.. I thought... I thought that.." He rubs his hand into his face with an embaressed grumble. "..Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking. You can't even.. well, no, that's not right. It still would hurt, and I guess I just didn't want Mama to hurt you and- "

Wade wasn't even looking at him. He was staring at the Tv, curled up, and didn't seem to be litsening.

Sighing heavily, he looked at the gun in his hand, deciding he should put it up. It wasn't something he should have down with Althea not feeling the greatest and Wade not even being able to put together sentences.

Walking away, he puts it in the closet, making sure to lock it like it was supposed to. God, there were so many weapons in here. It wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that these guns weren't just for hunting or a hobby. No one had this much ammo when owning a gun collection that was "just for show."

Making his way to the kitchen, he stirred the boiling noodles, dumping them in the colander.

"Wo-wo?... wo-wo!"

"Woah woah?" He asks himself, looking up to see Wade pointing at the tv. Prince Eric had picked up Ariel and was now twirling her while smiling.

"Wo- wo?"

Tilting his head, he thought that perhaps this was cool to Wade. "Yeah, Wow buddy. That's amazing." He says but Wade gave him a dirty look. One that usually was his 'Bitch? Thats not what I said' squish of his non existing brows.

"Wo-wo. Ups?"

"Ups?"

"Wo-wo, Ups?" He grins, putting his hands up as he did the grabby motions again.

Oh. That made more sense. "You want me to do that to you?"

Wade nods, crawling about two feet before doing the hands again.

"Mmh... okay, but just once. And then I have to cook. Deal?"

Putting the butter in the pan, he came to pick him up, raising him up. The small squeal and the wide, sparkly eyes said all that Logan needed to know. When put back down, Wade claps.

"Yaay!"

Logan couldn't help but smirk. Really? That's all he wanted? "Heh.. yeah.. Yay." Was it that simple? This.. easy??

Vanessa made it sound so much more complicated when she talked about it. But then again.. I guess Vanessa wasn't as strong as him either, so it must have been difficult for her to hold him. The idea of her holding a 6'2 man on her hip made him snort.

She was strong, obviously, most dancers had to be, but dancers were lean and nimble as well. Logan was much more on the heavier side, so it was far easier for him.

"More?"

"More ups?" He asks, despite seeing his hands reach up. It wasn't the fact that he didn't know. Rather, he wanted confirmation.

"Wo-wo, Ups!" He smiles, excited and happy to be given the attention.

"Ok, ok, but last time, alright?" With another nod, Logan picks him up again. This time, Wade wraps his arms around him tight, nuzzling him again.

Sighing, Logan rubs his back, letting his chin go to the top of his head. "I can't hold you forever, you know... I have stuff to do.." he mumbles, bouncing just a bit in his knees, keeping his arm under his bottom so he didn't drop him.

"You're a good kid, Wade but I really do have to cook."

The whine that comes out of Wade is desperate for attention, lonely even. As if he just told Wade he was leaving and never coming back ever again.

"I come."

"No, sweetheart.. you'll get burned." The bouncing stops as he tries to set Wade down but he holds onto him like a kitten whos afraid of being dropped too far.

"Come on, let go. You'll be okay in here. See look. She's using a fork as a comb. Isn't that funny?" Logan says, trying to distract him enough to stay put. Vanessa wasn't kidding about the wanting held part. He was quite literally clinging to him like his life depended on it.

"Alright, get off. Here- do you want this? Take it." Putting him down, he took his hoodie off with him, letting him hold it as he stood. "There. Now stay. Im trying to make you some noodles, bub."

Finally getting to walk away, the look on his face hurt his chest.. just a bit anyway. The way he watched him go with such sad eyes and clutching the hoodie close to him. As if he was abandoning him.

Eh. He'd be fine. He could still see him in the kitchen so there wasn't really any reason to worry.

In said small kitchen, Logan put together the sauce, butter, and some seasonings, starting to stir it when he glanced towards the tv, doing a double take because Wade was missing.

"Wade?" He says, only to be met with him tugging on his jeans. The sight was something he wasn't prepared for, Wade put his hoodie on, and it was too big for him by at least two sizes. "Wo-wo!"

"Woah woah huh... wait, is that me?" He asks, tilting his head. "It's an L, bud. L" he made the L noise for him. "Lo-Lo."

"Wo-wo."

His eyes roll. "What ever. Come on, kid get out of the kitchen. You're gonna burn yourself."

This lasted about 2 seconds before Wade came back in. "Ups?"

At this point, dinner was practically done. Now, just have to finish it up and serve. "Fine... but don't touch anything."

"Yaaay!!" He claps, reaching up only to get scooped up and put on his hip, holding him with one arm, the other stiring.

"Yeah... yay.. fuckin' brat.." Wade was always getting what he wanted.

Wade giggles, holding his neck and once again snuggling up to him.

"Yeah, yeah, that's enough. Just be good. Don't touch. Ouches."

"Ow?"

"Yup. Ow."

So now, here was Logan, an almost 400 pound man holding 150 pound 6'2 guy on his hip, stiring and plating dinner. With his head on his shoulder, Wade calmed down immensely from being carried, just watching what Logan was doing and silent.

Dipping his finger into the sauce, Logan held it up. "Do you like this?"

Taking the finger in his mouth, Wade immediately made a 'mmmh' noise, nodding.

"Good. Do you want it on the side or on top of your noodles?"

" 'op."

" 'kay." Putting the sauce on top, he began to make Als.

" 'essy?"

"Huh?" He asks, not sure.

" 'essy??" Wade points to the plate.

"No. Mama's."

"Mama?"

"Mhm. Wo- wo's." Logan points to his own.

"Ooooh! Yummies."

"Yup.. Yummies..." he says, only to become embarrassed, face heating up as he grunts. Man... damn this baby talk..

____

A little later, after dinner, Wade came out of the room, looking almost ashamed, wearing Logan's x-men athletics department hoodie, the back saying 'HOWLETT' in big letters.

He was playing with his hands as he came to him. "Hey.."

Glancing away from the Tv, Logan was a bit confused, Not now sure if he was still small or not. "Hey?"

"I-.. im sorry.. for.. ealier. I know you don't like that stuff. I don't really.. know.." It seemed the farther he got into the apology, the tighter his voice got, his eyes becoming glossy.

"Hey-hey, stop. Why are you crying? You don't have anything to be sorry about. You're alright. Everything's okay, Wade. Sit." He says, patting next to him, but he just shook his head, rubbing his arm.

"No. I-it's not okay. You didn't ask for that. And you don't like t-taking care of me like that-" he wipes his eyes with the sleeves, clearly feeling bad about being so small infront of him.

"What? No, hold on. I never said that. I'll always take care of you." He says, a little frustrated that he would think differently.

"B-but you-"

"Shut the fuck up and come here."

Swallowing, He hesitantly sat on his lap, letting Logan pull him close and kiss the tears from his eyes. "Don't you ever say that shit again, you hear me? If I didn't want to take care of you, I would have left a long time ago. It was just.. odd at first. Because I've never seen it before. That's all. Just because something is new doesn't mean it's bad. You taught me that, idiot."

Sniffling, he shifts to nuzzle up under his chin again, curling up to be as small as possible, letting the man hold him in his arms. "I-i don't.." he heaves.

Logan is patiant, holding his cheek and rubbing his breath. "Shh.."

"I-i don't even know why I did that. I just.. it just happened." He whispers.

"That's alright. You don't have to know everything... a little heads up would be nice though." He mutters, pulling him up more to rub his cheek on him the way he liked.

Sniffling again, he smiles softly. "I'll try.. worst case senerio I just ask you to pick me up."

"Tell ya what. You ask me to pick you up and I will. Just... not during missions. I don't wanna have to slice a fucker in half because he shot you when you're small."

Wade giggles, his heart rate finally settling down as he listened to Logan's. "No promises.." letting out a big sigh, he let his body relax, taking a few deep breaths, nestling into him, the smell of the hoodie making him tired. "..I love you.. a-And thanks for not letting Al shoot me.."

Logan's eyes widened. He did hear his apology. A soft half lidded smile came to his face, glad that it wasn't for nothing. "I love you too.... cry baby."

"Can you guys shut up? Wheel of fortunes on." Al says, feeling much better that she too has had a nap and a good meal.

Sigh... that was their Althea.. keeping them humble.

The little giggle that came from him and the rythemed breathing following told Logan that he would be stuck in this spot for quite a while. Oh well... He was always up for a good nap.

"...Morons." The old woman says with a hint of fondness in her voice, hearing not one but two sets of snores. It was music to her ears.

#jean gray #kid wade #kitty and kid #sfw interaction only #sfw agere #sfw littlespace #caregiver logan howlett #caregiver wolverine #blind al #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool #wolverine #deadpool 3

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