#not even tagging faith man she's all alone

[tteotlma]

Edge of Redemption

Logan’s life as a priest is built on a fragile foundation of faith and restraint. But then you appear—his greatest temptation, threatening to tear down everything he’s worked so hard to build. Salvation is within reach, but the closer he gets to you, the more he wonders if it’s worth the cost.

Priest!Logan x Reader (9.1k wc)

TW: 18+ MDNI; nsfw, religious blasphemy/sacrilege, priest/church employee relationship, power dynamics, age gap relationship, light choking/breath play, dubious consent themes, emotional manipulation, religious guilt/shame, light degradation, praise kink, explicit language, sexual tension, touch starvation, passionate/rough sex, semi-public intimacy, forbidden relationship, dom/sub themes, emotional vulnerability, morality crisis, internal conflict, power imbalance dynamics, religious conflict, mild degradation through religious themes, consensual acts with power dynamics, office/workplace setting intimacy a/n: this was supposed to be 1k words... and so many tags bc honestly i felt so... religiously guilty LOL but this concept has been on my mind FOREVER. Not beta'd so probs lots of mistakes/repetition. I wanted to do smth different so...

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11/24/24 

Logan thought the church would cleanse him, that its walls would shelter him from the shadows he’d carried so long–but some sins were too hard to let go. The echoes of his past clung to him like a second skin, unyielding, no matter how many prayers he muttered or candles he lit. Every sermon, every hymn, every whispered confession felt like an act of penance, but the peace he sought remained just out of reach.

He had learned to take refuge in the routines, in the rhythm of prayer and scripture, as if repetition alone could dull the ache in his soul. The children’s laughter from the Sunday school classes brought moments of light, though even that felt like a reminder of all he’d never have—a life untainted by regret.

Then you arrived. 

A disruption he hadn’t anticipated, your presence was unassuming yet magnetic, your voice soft but firm as you led the children from their classroom to their parents. It was the first time in a long time Logan had noticed something—someone—beyond the weight of his own guilt. He told himself it was nothing. She was a teacher, a kind soul, and he was a man who had no right to be drawn to kindness.

But kindness, he found, had a way of reaching the places he had worked so hard to lock away. 

The first time you approached him, it was to ask about the church’s history. A notebook held close to your chest, a warm and unassuming smile. “Father Logan, I was hoping you could help me with something.”

He hesitated, his pulse quickening despite himself. “Of course. What do you need?”

You stepped closer, your presence filling the small space between the both of you. “The children were asking about the stained-glass windows—the stories they tell. I wanted to be sure I got it right before the next class.”

Logan glanced at the nearest window, its depiction of Saint Michael vivid in the afternoon light. He cleared his throat, forcing his focus to the question. “Saint Michael, the archangel,” he began, keeping his voice steady. “A symbol of divine protection. The sword he carries is meant to…” His voice faltered as you tilted your head, watching him with quiet attentiveness.

“Meant to what?” you asked softly.

“To strike down the forces of evil,” he finished, though the words felt hollow in his mouth. 

The conversation stayed with him long after you left, your notebook tucked under your arm and your footsteps fading into the quiet of the church. Logan stayed behind, lingering by the window watching your shadow disappear around the corner. 

——— 

This Sunday’s rain had come out of nowhere, a sudden deluge that hammered against the stained-glass windows and turned the world outside into a blur. Logan had stayed late, as he often did, finding solace in the quiet of the empty church. The flickering candlelight and the rhythm of the storm outside gave him a sense of calm he rarely found anywhere else.

He was about to extinguish the last of the candles when a faint noise caught his attention—a soft rustling sound coming from the far corner of the sanctuary. His brow furrowed as he moved toward the noise, his boots echoing softly against the stone floor.

And then he saw you. 

You were seated near the back of the church, a book in hand and papers spread out beside you. Your damp cardigan draped over the seat beside you. Your hair was slightly disheveled, as you indulged in your book, oblivious to his presence. 

“What are you doing here so late?” Logan’s voice broke the silence, low and steady but laced with curiosity. “Church let out hours ago.”

You startled, your bookmark slipping from your fingers as you looked up at him, wide-eyed. “Father Logan! I—I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He crossed his arms, his gaze softening as he took in your flustered expression. “You didn’t answer my question.”

You smiled sheepishly, closing the book in your hands. You gestured to the papers beside you, “I was trying to get a head start on next week’s lesson. The storm caught me off guard, and I figured I’d wait it out here instead of getting soaked.” 

Logan let out a soft sigh, shaking his head. “You know, most people would’ve taken the storm as a sign to go home.”

“Most people don’t have twenty kids asking them questions I don’t have answers to,” you countered, your smile growing as you tucked your bookmark between random pages. “Besides, it’s kind of nice here at night. Quiet. Peaceful.”

He leaned against the nearest pew, watching as you carefully toyed with the edges of the book. “It’s not safe for you to be out this late, especially with the weather like this.”

“I’ll be fine,” you said lightly, though the way you avoided his gaze told him you weren’t entirely convinced.

Logan frowned, the protective instinct he tried so hard to suppress flaring to life. “At least let me walk you to your car when the rain lets up. I don’t want you getting caught out there alone.” 

“It’s okay F-father, I’m not one for driving in the rain anyway.” You turned to look up at him, already finding him staring down at you. 

Logan didn’t look away, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. The way you said Father, like it was unfamiliar on your tongue, made something in him stir—a dangerous sometthing he had no business feeling. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus on the present.

“You’re planning to wait out the storm here, then?” he asked, his voice lower, quieter.

You gave a small shrug, your gaze dropping back to the notebook in your lap. “If that’s okay. It sounds like it might be letting up soon,” Lie. “It won’t be long if that’s okay.” You hug yourself and it’s then that Logan realizes your arms are bare, save for the thin straps holding your top up. 

Logan’s gaze followed your hands as you hugged yourself, the thin fabric of your top stretching over your arms. His eyes lingered, just for a moment too long, before he registered the goosebumps that had begun to rise on your skin. The soft glow of the candlelight flickered across your bare arms, highlighting the subtle tremor in your posture that unbeknownst to him had nothing to do with the storm.

He cursed under his breath, shifting uncomfortably where he stood. There was a small pang of guilt in his chest—this wasn’t right. He wasn’t supposed to notice. He wasn’t supposed to care.

But he did.

Logan cleared his throat, his voice rougher than usual. “You’re cold,” he stated, though it wasn’t really a question. It was a simple observation, but it hung in the air between you, thick with unspoken implications. His gaze flicked to the heavy downpour outside the stained glass windows, and then back to you, looking small and vulnerable in the dim light of the church. 

You gave a sheepish shrug, clearly not wanting to admit it. “I’m fine. Really.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, the protective instinct kicking in before he could stop it. “No, you’re not,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. 

He took a few steps toward you, his eyes scanning the room before settling on the door to his office. “I’ve got some coffee in my office. It’s warm, and it’ll help.”

Before you could protest, he was already moving toward the office, and without thinking, he added, “Come on. It’s not safe to stay out here for too long.”

You followed without much hesitation, the soft patter of the rain accompanying your steps as you entered his small, dimly lit office. The door clicked shut behind you, and the air inside was warmer, filled with the faint smell of coffee beans and old books.

Logan’s office was sparse but functional, with a small desk cluttered with papers, and a bookshelf lined with books, most of them theological texts, some old, some well-worn. It felt like a space where things—both literal and emotional—were tucked away, just as he liked it. But tonight, with you standing just a few feet away, the room felt different.

He motioned to the plush velvet chair in the corner of his office, his back turned as he prepared the coffee. “Have a seat,” he said, his voice softer now, but still edged with that familiar tension. "I’ll make it quick."

You settled into the chair, and Logan noticed how you kept your arms tightly crossed over your chest. His gaze flickered over to the window, the rain still relentless outside, though now it felt like a distant background to the simmering awareness between you two.

The sound of the coffee pot bubbling was the only noise for a few moments, and Logan’s mind wandered against his will. He tried not to let his thoughts drift to the way you had looked at him earlier, the softness in your eyes that made him forget himself for a second. The way your voice had caught when you said Father, the hesitation he’d caught there. It was the smallest thing, but it gnawed at him.

He cleared his throat and handed you the mug, the warmth of it radiating through his hand as he held it out to you. “Here.”

You took it, your fingers brushing his briefly, and for the briefest of moments, Logan felt something pulse beneath his skin—a flicker of heat that wasn’t just from the coffee.

“Thank you,” you said softly, lifting the mug to your lips. The warmth seemed to bring some color back to your face, and you looked up at him again. “I didn’t expect to be stuck here this late.”

He nodded, his arms crossed over his chest now, posture tense, as if trying to keep himself contained. “I know. But the storm…” He trailed off, his gaze flickering back to the window yet again, though he wasn’t really looking at it anymore.

You took a sip of the coffee, the warmth spreading through your chest, but it wasn’t enough to chase away the slight tension that had settled between you. “I should’ve left earlier, but I didn’t want to risk driving in this. And I wanted to get ahead…” You trailed off, your voice suddenly quieter, almost apologetic.

Logan's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze flickering from the window back to you. He noticed the way you hesitated, the subtle shift in your posture as if you were choosing your words carefully. The air between you two felt heavier now, a quiet pulse of unspoken things that neither of you were acknowledging outright.

“You wanted to get ahead?” Logan asked, his voice low but gentle, as if he were trying to coax you into sharing.

You nodded, your eyes not meeting his as you took another sip of coffee. “Yeah. For next week. I’ve got so much to prepare for with the kids, and I didn’t want to fall behind. They deserve more than half-effort.” You paused, a flicker of self-doubt crossing your features before you continued, “And, well, during the week... I’m usually too busy.”

Logan didn’t know why, but hearing you speak so earnestly, so committed to your work, made something stir in him. He’d seen a lot of people come and go in this church, but there was something about you that made him feel like he was seeing the world through a new lens. Something soft, something untainted.

"That's admirable," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You care a lot about them."

Your eyes met his at that, and for a brief moment, there was something like understanding shared between you two. A connection neither of you had planned on, but one that was impossible to ignore.

The quiet was starting to feel uncomfortable now, like something was building, and neither of you knew exactly how to handle it. Logan, never one to let things fester too long, cleared his throat again, stepping away from his desk to give you a little space. 

“Father Logan,” you asked, staring at the pattern on your silk skirt, your voice soft but with a trace of curiosity, “I was wondering… when we speak of sin and redemption, how do we know when we’ve truly atoned? Is there a moment when the weight finally lifts, or is it something we just carry forever?”

Logan blinked, the question taking him by surprise. He had expected something simpler—maybe a question about the liturgy, or the history of a saint—but this was different. It was deep, personal, something that touched the core of who he was.

He stood still for a moment, unsure how to answer. There were words, sure, but they all felt empty, hollow. Redemption wasn’t something you could define so easily, not when you were so steeped in your own sins.

But before he could find a way to respond, you continued.

“I’ve always wondered about it,” you said, your tone almost hesitant, as if you were unsure if you should ask at all. “Do you ever feel like it’s impossible? Like no matter how hard you try, you can’t truly be... free?”

The question hung in the air between you, thick and heavy. It felt like you were both asking something deeper than what had been spoken.

Logan’s gaze softened, but he didn’t know how to answer yet. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair and turned toward the stack of books near the desk.

“Well,” he began, “I don’t know if there’s a clear answer to that. But… maybe there’s something in one of the texts that could give a little more insight.”

He moved toward the pile of books atop the bookshelf beside you, where his most worn ones were stacked. “Just give me a second,” he muttered, crouching down to search through the shelf.

As Logan knelt beside you, his focus shifted to finding the right book, his hand brushing against the spines of the leather-bound volumes. There was something in the way you watched him, quiet and patient, that made the simple act of reaching for a book feel far more intimate than it had any right to.

Finally, he pulled one free, and with a quiet sigh, he straightened his back, holding the thick tome carefully in his hands.

“The answer may be in here,” Logan said, turning back toward you.

Logan shifted the heavy book in his hands, glancing at the faint text on the cover. The storm outside had cast the room in shadows, the only light coming from the faint glow of the streetlamp outside the rain-streaked window. He let out a soft sigh, realizing he couldn’t read a word.

“It’s too dark,” he murmured, his gaze flicking to the small lamp perched on the side table next to the chair you were sitting in. His brow furrowed slightly as he assessed the space.

Without thinking too much about it, Logan leaned forward, the weight of his body shifting slightly closer to yours.

“I’ll turn this on,” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant.

He reached across you, his chest brushing lightly against your knees where they were flush against the velvet cushion. The nearness made your breath hitch, and you froze, your eyes flickering to his face as he leaned in further.

Logan was suddenly hyperaware of how close he was to you—closer than he’d been to anyone in years. The faint scent of your perfume mixed with the rain lingered in the air between you, soft and utterly disarming. He could hear your shallow breath, could feel the heat radiating off your skin as his fingers found the switch on the lamp.

The quiet click of the lamp filled the silence, and a soft, warm light illuminated the room. Logan didn’t pull back right away. His hand lingered on the lamp’s base for a second too long, his head tilted slightly toward you but he still didn’t dare make eye contact, your faces just inches apart now.

When he finally shifted, his gaze flickered down, catching the way your lips parted as if you were about to say something. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t bring himself to step away as quickly as he should have.

The air felt heavier now, charged with something neither of you could name. His throat tightened as he swallowed hard, his pulse drumming in his ears. The coffee mug in your hands suddenly felt scorching, but you clutched it tighter, hoping the pain could anchor you to reality.

“Sorry,” Logan murmured, his voice rough as he pulled back slightly, though not enough to fully retreat. His knees remained firmly planted beside your chair, and the way his presence loomed made it impossible to look anywhere but at him.

The soft glow of the lamp cast shadows across his sharp features, making his eyes seem darker, more intense, as they searched yours for something he didn’t dare to name. 

He cleared his throat and let out a shaky breath and, without meaning to, his voice dipped lower. “Freedom… it's a tricky thing,” he murmured. “We all want it, think we can earn it. But sometimes, it feels like we're just running in circles. We try to shake the past, but it stays with us—like a shadow that never fades.”

Heat crawled down your neck as his eyes searched yours, searching for some understanding, as if the weight of his words could somehow make it easier to admit the truth. 

“You ask if it’s impossible,” Logan continued, his voice quieter now, the storm outside still raging. “The thing is… it's not about whether it's impossible. It's about the fact that sometimes, we crave the things that keep us trapped. We want freedom, but part of us still holds on to the chains we know.”

His gaze finally dropped to the book in his hand, fingers tightening around the leather binding. “The hardest struggle isn’t denying what we know is wrong. It’s living with the knowledge that sometimes, what we crave most feels impossibly, painfully right. And that’s the test. Can we break free from that?”

There was a long pause, the room thick with the weight of his words. Logan turned the book in his hands slightly, his eyes lingering on the pages but his mind clearly elsewhere. The connection between the two of you now felt more palpable than ever. There was a shift in the air—a change, as if the weight of his words had unlocked something in you.

You held your breath, unsure if you should speak, but the tension in the room was almost unbearable. His gaze was so intense, like he was waiting for something, and in that moment, you realized you were, too.

"Sometimes," you began, your voice quiet but steady, "it feels like the harder we try to let go, the more we get pulled in. Like we're just meant to repeat the same cycle."

Logan’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, his gaze flicking to yours for the briefest of moments. His lips parted as if he was about to speak, but he held back.

It was strange, almost like he didn’t want to say anything that would break the fragile balance that had settled between you both. And yet, there was something about your words—their softness, the unspoken meaning behind them—that seemed to strike him more than you anticipated.

You shifted in your seat slightly, aware of how close he’s been, the air between you thick with unspoken understanding.

"It’s like we're doomed to always want what we shouldn’t," you continued, the words slipping out before you could stop them, your voice tinged with an emotion you hadn’t fully grasped. "Maybe that’s the only thing that’s really free... the craving."

Logan's jaw tightened slightly, his eyes narrowing just a fraction, but his expression betrayed nothing. He took in your words, his gaze unwavering, but for the first time since you’d started speaking, something flickered behind his eyes—something raw, something just as vulnerable as your admission.

You hadn’t meant it like that. You hadn’t meant to give voice to that desire, to hint at something deeper. But Logan... Logan heard it.

And when he opened his mouth, the words came out more hoarse than he intended.

"You’re right," he said, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. "Craving’s the only thing that feels like freedom sometimes... but it's also the thing that keeps us from it." He paused, eyes lingering on yours with a sharpness that made your heart skip a beat. “And maybe that’s where we get stuck.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the low hum of the storm outside and the sound of your breath mingling in the charged space. It was as if everything hung on the edge of his next words, like both of you were waiting to see what would break the stillness.

You couldn’t look away. Not now. Not when the air between you was so thick with the things you hadn’t dared to say.

There was a softness in his gaze now, something like an invitation—something you couldn’t quite place, but it made your pulse quicken all the same.

For a second, it felt like the space between you had narrowed to nothing, the tension unspoken but alive, and then Logan’s voice broke through again, quieter than before.

“Sometimes it’s not about breaking free,” he murmured, his lips close enough for you to feel the heat in his words. “Sometimes it’s about giving in. To what we crave, what we need.”

You swallowed, your breath coming faster now, realizing just how close he was—how close you were to crossing a line neither of you had dared to touch. And when you met his gaze again, there was a question there. A challenge, almost, like he was daring you to acknowledge it. 

You shifted in your seat a smidge, knees brushing against his chest again. Logan looks down at your fingers pinching the fabric of your skirt between your fingers. You lean in close. 

“Tell me father, do you think the sweetest part of surrender is giving in, or the release that follows?” 

You could hear Logan's jaw clench as you leaned back to look him in the eyes. 

The room seemed to hold its breath, the storm outside a distant roar compared to the thunderous pulse of tension between you. Logan’s eyes darkened, a flicker of something predatory flashing across his face before his expression smoothed into something unreadable. His hand, still gripping the book, trembled slightly as if he was barely keeping himself in check.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the weight of your words hanging in the air like a challenge. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the space between you now almost unbearable. His gaze lingered on your lips, then your eyes, before returning to the fabric of your skirt, where your fingers still toyed with the fabric.

His voice, when it came, was rough, almost a whisper. "It’s the release that makes everything make sense," he murmured, his gaze piercing as he leaned just a fraction closer, his breath ghosting across your skin. "But the act of giving in... that’s where we find out just how far we’re willing to go."

Your heart hammered in your chest, and despite the intensity, there was something in his words, in the way he spoke them, that felt like an invitation—like the first step toward something neither of you could take back. Logan’s eyes locked with yours again, this time with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.

"You want to know what’s sweetest, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice lowering to a gravelly growl, his hand finally moving from the book to rest just a breath away from your skin. "It’s the release... but only after you’ve let go completely. That’s when it’s real." 

You barely had time to register his words before Logan's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around your throat with a force that made your pulse spike. It was a gentle pressure, but it was enough to send a jolt of heat through your body, your breath hitching as his lips crashed against yours in a kiss that was anything but soft. 

His lips were frantic, almost demanding as he lapped at the inside of your mouth,  as though he could taste the tension between you both and needed to consume it, to devour it whole. The pressure on your throat was intoxicating, just enough to make everything else fade into the background—just the weight of his hand, the heat of his mouth on yours, the way your body instinctively leaned into him, unable to resist. 

You couldn’t help but whine when he deepened the kiss, his thumb brushing over your pulse, sending electric shivers down your spine. The world outside, the storm, the heavy air—everything else seemed to dissolve, leaving only the rawness of the moment, the undeniable connection that had built between you both. 

Logan pulled back, his breath heavy, but his hands didn’t leave you completely. His fingers grazed your throat before sliding to your cheek, his touch softer now, almost apologetic. His gaze flickered for a moment, conflicted, before he let out a low, frustrated exhale discarding the book.

"Shit, sorry," he muttered, his voice rough, the usual controlled demeanor slipping. "I don’t usually—"

He trailed off, his words fading as if he was still trying to make sense of the rush of emotion that had overtaken him. For a heartbeat, you thought he might pull away entirely, the weight of his apology making him retreat. But before you could second-guess, you grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

Logan didn’t resist. Instead, his lips hovered near your ear, his breath warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I’ve wanted you," he admitted in a low whisper, the rawness of his voice making your heart race. "Since the moment I saw you, I’ve wanted nothing more than to have you." His now empty hand lightly ghosted your calf, running the back of his finger up and down your smooth skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"But the church... it’s taught me something, hasn’t it?" he continued, his voice lowering almost to a murmur, as if he was wrestling with a deeper truth. "It’s not just about following every rule or duty.” His finger trailed higher, his thumb caressing your knee, then teasing the sensitive skin where your leg bent.

“There’s a passage in Ecclesiastes that says, ‘To everything, there is a season.’” He spoke with a quiet intensity, his words lingering in the air like a weight neither of you could ignore. “Sometimes, you don’t wait for permission. If something’s right in front of you, you don’t hesitate—you take it. You don’t wait for the world to tell you when the time is right.”

His fingers pressed deeper into your skin, the subtle pressure sending a rush of heat through you. Then, his palm splayed across your thigh, squeezing the tender meat with a possessiveness that left no room for doubt. The touch was slow, deliberate, as though he was marking his territory, claiming what had always been his. The air between you both thickened, each word and touch drawing you closer to the point of no return. 

He pressed his lips to your neck, his breath hot against your skin, the words heavy with the weight of his need. "And right now," he murmured, his fingers curling into your skin, tightening as though he couldn't hold back any longer, "I’m done waiting." 

With that, his grip on your thigh tightened, drawing a soft whine from your lips. The hand that had been caressing your cheek slid to the back of your head, tangling in your hair as he pulled you into another heated kiss. Your fingers instinctively clenched tighter around the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer, as though the space between you was too much to bear.

Once he felt you leaning into the kiss, his hand then trailed a slow, deliberate path down your body, grazing your curves until it reached your ankle. Then, just as slowly, it traveled back up the unoccupied side of your body, his touch sending waves of heat through you as his fingers slid beneath the thin fabric of your skirt.

One of your hands came to rest on his, the warmth of his palm searing your skin as he kneaded the soft flesh of your thigh. You let out a breathy sigh, and he responded with a low, gravelly groan, the sound vibrating against your lips.

Your fingernails grazed the nape of his neck, drawing him closer as you leaned back into the seat. He followed without hesitation, his weight pressing against you, grounding you, yet setting your pulse racing. Instinctively, your legs shifted, parting to let him settle between them, the growing heat between you thick with tension that begged for release.

His hands gave your thighs a final, firm squeeze, sending a shiver rippling through you before they began their slow descent down your legs to your ankle. His thumbs hooked under the edge of your skirt, the fabric gathering in his hands as he teased it higher, exposing more of your skin inch by inch. For a fleeting moment, his lips left yours, leaving you gasping softly at the sudden loss of contact, your body craving the return of his warmth.

Logan’s gaze fell to your lips, now swollen and parted, his own hovering close as though he couldn’t bear to pull away completely. He leaned in again, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth in a gentle nip, tugging just enough to send a jolt of heat coursing through you. When he finally eased back, his eyes dropped lower, dark with a hunger that made your breath hitch. His chest rose and fell heavier now, his focus riveted to your legs as they shifted, parting wider in silent invitation.

Your body acted on instinct, your knees lifting to bracket his hips, pulling him closer as his hands found the heat of your thighs. His fingers slid beneath the soft skin, pushing your skirt higher with deliberate, torturous slowness. When the edge of the fabric reached just shy of exposing your underwear, he stopped, his grip tightening on your thighs as though anchoring himself. His gaze flicked back to yours, the weight of his restraint palpable, even as his dark eyes betrayed just how close he was to losing it entirely.

His voice came out rough, low, barely more than a whisper, his hand faltering for a moment as the fabric inched higher.

"You don’t know what you’re doin’ to me. This... I shouldn’t even be thinkin’ about it, let alone..."

His words trailed off as your underwear came into view, the soft lace hugging your curves in a way that made his breath stutter. He let out a low, guttural noise, his fingers flexing against your thighs.

"Christ, sweetheart... you’re gonna ruin me."

His hands moved with purpose now, sliding higher until they engulfed the swell of your ass, his palms kneading the soft flesh as though he could no longer help himself. With a single, deliberate push, he bunched the fabric of your skirt around your waist, his thumbs brushing down to press against the delicate bows resting on your hips.

His thumbs were toying with the fragile bows at your hips, brushing against the lace that barely concealed you. Your breath hitched, and you swore you felt him tremble against you, the tension in his body wound so tightly it was as if he might snap at any moment.

Logan let out a shaky breath, one hand sliding up your back pushing the fabric of your top exposing a small sliver of your back, kneading your flesh with both hands like he was memorizing every inch. "I swore I wouldn’t... I told myself I’d keep my hands off you," he admitted, his tone strained, like he was confessing a sin. "But everytime you walk in here lookin’ like that, sittin’ there all sweet... and then this—"

His thumb scraped the lace, grazing your skin so lightly it was almost unbearable. A moan catches in your throat, his jaw clenching, as he let out a frustrated growl, his hand gripping the meat of your thigh like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

"This is wrong," he muttered, though his actions betrayed his words as he pushed you upward towards him, until his lips found the curve of your jaw, trailing fire down to your throat. "But, God help me, I don’t think I care anymore."

You whimpered softly as his teeth scraped against your pulse, his hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin as his fingers explored, teasing along the edge of your underwear.

"I should stop," Logan said, his voice rough and filled with conflict, even as his hand tightened on your hip. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and clouded with want. "Tell me to stop. Tell me to walk away, and I’ll do it."

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Instead, your hands shakily slid up to cradle his face, your thumbs brushing over his rough stubble as you pulled him in close, pausing just before your lips touched. Barely brushing together, you breathed in each other’s air, trying to catch your breath but only becoming dizzier. “F-father, please,” you murmured against his lips, the words barely audible but carrying all the certainty he needed.

Logan’s eyes darkened even further, and he swallowed hard, his breath shaky as his hands came up to cup your face. “Who am I to deny help to someone in need?” he murmured, almost to himself, as if trying to convince himself this was justified. “It’s my duty, isn’t it? To guide... to offer support... even when it’s hard.” He pulls you closer to his hips. 

You nodded more enthusiastically than you intended, your body shivering with anticipation. Your lower stomach burned with arousal, the need to feel him building with each second. The cold air of the office contrasted with the slick warmth between your legs, a sensation that desperately needed to be satiated.

The shift in your posture, the way your body responded to him, was all the confirmation he needed. His gaze flicked between your lips and your eyes, his jaw tightening as he leaned in to capture your lips yet again in another heated kiss. 

He nipped and licked at your lips, the soft pressure of his teeth sending a jolt of heat straight through you. His breath mingled with yours, slow and deliberate, as if he were savoring the moment, tasting the very air between you. Then, with a groan, his tongue traced the edge of your bottom lip before slipping inside, exploring the warmth of your mouth.

Your body responded instinctively, lips parting to welcome him, your tongue meeting his in a slow, teasing dance. Every movement was deliberate, an exploration, a taste, and yet it felt like he was trying to draw you deeper into him with each brush of his tongue against yours. The warmth of his mouth, the way he gently pulled you closer, ignited a desperate ache between your thighs.

You whimpered softly as his hand slid down your back, fingers splayed to press you further into him. His hips pressed into yours, hard and unmistakable, the evidence of his desire undeniable. You felt the heat of his body, the burn of his touch, every nerve on edge, every inch of your skin on fire.

His kiss deepened, more urgent now, as if the need to consume you, to claim you, was taking over. He tilted your head just slightly, deepening the angle, and his tongue moved more aggressively, exploring with a hunger that matched the pounding of your heart. Every time he pulled back, the slight break in the kiss only heightened your yearning, the cool air rushing in before his lips found yours again, harder, more demanding. 

With a small groan, Logan pulled away and it was then you realized he had unzipped his pants and set his cock free, painfully strained as it lightly grazed the inside of your thigh. Each time he huffed a heavy breath you could feel the heat emanating from his cock atop your soaked folds. 

You began squirming beneath him, the anticipation becoming unbearable. You tried to lift your hips, desperate to meet him, to feel some kind of relief, but his grip on your knees was unyielding, anchoring you in place. Small whines escaped your throat, breathless and needy, as you wriggled beneath him, trying to close your legs, raise your hips, anything to alleviate the ache.

“S-sweetheart—” His voice faltered, thick with restraint, and your movements came to a sudden halt. You froze, looking up at him through hazy, half-lidded eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly. You were intoxicated, drowning in the heat between you, his presence suffocating in the best possible way.

His hands tightened around your knees, his fingers digging into your skin as if trying to hold himself together, to maintain some semblance of control. His eyes flicked down to where your body was reacting to him, your legs attempting to press tightly together, your hips still instinctively shifting. His gaze darkened, swallowing thickly as his breath hitched.

"God help me," Logan muttered under his breath, as if asking for forgiveness, but his voice was raw with something far less holy. “Fuuuck–” He breathed out when he finally allowed himself to touch you. 

Years of only having his hand as company, mixed with months of pining after you made him feel more adolescent as he had hoped. His body lurched violently forward as one hand grasped at the armrest and the other at your groin, as he slid his thick cock against your silk covered folds, the fabric immediately glossing over with your slick. His hips picked up their pace, almost involuntarily with how wet the both of you were, he was desperate for friction. 

You throw your head back in frustration, the mix of need and restraint between the two of you creating an almost unbearable tension. Your movements become more erratic as you try to help, attempting to rock your hips against him, but the uncoordinated motions from both of you do little to satisfy the ache in your stomach. The lack of control between you only intensifies the frustration, the heat building without any relief.

Logan’s breath hitches, his jaw clenching as he watches your desperate movements. A shameful growl rumbles in his chest, and without warning, his hand on the armrest moves to your throat. His thumb presses against the side of your pulse, feeling the frantic rhythm beneath his touch, while his fingers tighten around your neck, not enough to hurt, but enough to still you.

The pressure on your throat forces your movements to slow, your breath coming out in shaky gasps as his grip reminds you of his dominance. His hooded and hazy eyes darken, filled with an intense mixture of restraint and something far more primal. 

“Stay still sweetheart,” His chest heaves. “I promise, I’ll give you everything you want.” The hand not on your throat moves between your legs and pushes his cock down against your drenched pussy. Your thighs spread impossibly further as the pressure on your clit increases. Small moans leave your lips each time the tip of Logan’s cock halts beneath the swell of your clit each thrust harder than before. 

It isn’t until he fists the base of his shaft, where he lines the drooling tip of his cock with your seemingly tight entrance through the flooded fabric of your panties. It’s obvious he enjoys teasing you, and restraining himself. He slowly pushed his hips forward, guiding the head of his dick past your entrance watching as his precum beads against the pink fabric the deeper he buried. 

You threw your head back in both frustration and ecstasy. Relishing in the way his thick head stretched your pulsing entrance. A loud moan ripping its way through your throat but stopping short when Logan’s hand clenched tighter around your neck. 

He let out a feral grunt, as he tried to sink further into your tight hole not yet able to bury himself completely. 

"God, sweetheart... you feel so damn good, like I’m finally touching heaven." He pulls his hips back, his breath ragged. "But I can’t... I can't let myself get lost in this. You deserve better than... than whatever this is."

Despite being pinned against the seat by his grip on your throat, your heart races with the fear that he might pull away. Your hand reaches out, grabbing for the arm that’s keeping you still, your fingers scrambling desperately for purchase. The other moves to grasp his shirt, fingertips tugging at the fabric as if you could pull him back, keep him close.

"Please," you gasp, the word slipping from your lips before you can stop it. "D-don’t pull away." Your body arches instinctively, aching for more of the pleasure he’s been withholding—the sensation just barely within your grasp. Logan doesn’t say anything in response, his eyes heavy and focused as he watches you squirm beneath him, his silence more consuming than any words could be.

The hand around your throat loosens, his fingers shifting to the back of your neck, and in that instant, the air between you changes. His touch softens briefly, but then his eyes darken again, a storm of desire and restraint fighting for dominance. He leans in closer, and you don’t hesitate—you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him in as your hips lift to meet him, desperate for more, for release. Your lips part as small cries escape, mingling with needy whispers for him.

"How can I say no when this angel sent from heaven begs me so nicely?" Logan’s voice is thick with disbelief, as though he’s trying to convince himself that this isn’t happening. His lips press against your neck, nipping and kissing, while his hips grind against yours—slow and purposeful. But there’s an edge to his movements now, a crack in his control.

Suddenly, the tension breaks.

"Fuck it," Logan growls, the words a harsh release of everything he’s been holding back. His hands grip you tighter, pulling you to him with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. "I can’t hold back, sweetheart." His voice is low, gravelly, as his hips slam forward, no longer restrained, no longer holding back.

“Oh,” You gasp as his hips drive in and out of you."M-more–" The cry tears from your throat as you clutch at his back. He finally gave in, but it wasn't enough. His grunts in your ear and stuttering hips tell you he needs more too. 

"P-please father L-Logan," you whisper, overwhelmed by sensation, hands desperately searching for anchor. Your fingers tangle in his hair. 

He's lost in you now, consumed by your body beneath his, the taste of your skin, the sound of your breath. There's no more hesitation or restraint. Logan surrenders to his primal need for you, every shred of self-control abandoned. When his lips crash onto yours, it's fierce—pure, raw desire with no trace of softness.

You whine into his mouth and he eats every sound like it’s his last meal. He grabs you at the bend of your knee, holding your leg up as he uses his other hand to hold your thighs open as he rams into harder. The fabric of your soaked panties pulling taut against your entrance each time he thrust back into your heat. 

“More, more–” You cried out, when he gave one particularly hard thrust and rather than burrowing himself deep inside you, to both your dismay he instead rubbed against your folds. You sobbed in frustration. 

“P-please,” you plead, your voice trembling as you pull his head against your chest, desperation lacing every syllable. “I’m a good girl, Father Logan, I-I…” Your words falter as tears begin to spill from the corners of your eyes, slipping down your flushed cheeks.

Logan pulls away and freezes at the sight, his breath catching in his throat. For a moment, he can’t look away from the way you’ve unraveled beneath him—the way your body trembles, how your tears glisten in the dim light, and the broken pleas falling from your lips. His chest tightens with a dangerous mix of pride and guilt, the weight of what he’s done settling heavily on him.

"Aw, sweetheart..." he murmurs, his voice softer now, the rough edges dulled by an unfamiliar tenderness. He tilts his head, pressing his lips to your damp cheek, tasting the salt of your tears as he whispers, "Don't cry." His thumb gently brushes away a tear. "I've got you now. I'm sorry for makin' you wait so long."

His lips move to yours, soft and deliberate, a kiss that holds both apology and promise. As he adjusts, his hands steady themselves, sliding to your hips. His fingers find the edge of your underwear, and with a careful, almost reverent touch, he moves the fabric aside. 

Without breaking the kiss he guides his throbbing cock to your entrance, and his hips twitch forward. You cry out, but his tongue muffles your sounds. He grabs the tops of your thighs, gripping them hard enough to know marks will be there tomorrow. 

“Oh, God.” He comes to his full height when he pulls you to the edge of the seat, his hips make sharp contact with the back of your thighs and Logan pulls you impossibly close. 

“Hnn…ah!” You mewled, your body constricted, overwhelmed with the new sensation of being filled to the brim. “Father…” You reached between your legs to try and push him back but he grabs your wrists, holding your palms flush against the heat of his happy trail. Your fingers clench, yanking at the hair between your fingers, and he lets out a low chuckle. His hips jerk. 

“I was tryna take this slow, sweetheart.” He tries to bury himself deeper, and you moan at the delicious pain of being stretched.

“Ahh…” He lets out a devious chuckle as he feels you throb around him. “But now that you’re squeezing me so tight, princess, I don’t think I can.” He snaps his hips forward, and a breathy sigh of pleasure escapes his lips as his tip hits the pulsing wall of your arousal.

A cry rips from your throat as he pulls back from the hilt, his movements slow and deliberate, dragging against every sensitive inch of you. The emptiness is brief but unbearable, a plea spilling from your lips before he slams back into you, harder this time, his rhythm becoming punishingly deliberate.

"You’re somethin’ sacred," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, his hands trembling as they grip you tighter, holding you as if you might slip away. "And me? I’m a man still chained to the things I’ve done. I don’t know why God would give me you... not when I ain’t even begun to earn forgiveness."

His words hang heavy in the air, a confession borne of guilt and reverence as his thrusts grow deeper, more desperate. It’s as though he’s pouring all his contradictions—his desire, his regret, his unworthiness—into every movement, every touch.

“Yet here you are,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips brushing against your neck between ragged breaths. “Like a gift I don’t deserve, like somethin’ holy, and I…”

Between your moans, your hand wriggles free from his grasp, trembling fingers reaching up to press gently over his mouth. His words falter as his eyes meet yours, dark and brimming with emotion.

“Don’t,” you whisper, your voice shaky but firm. “Don’t overthink it. Just… just feel me.” You arch your back and thrust your hips to meet his movements, a quiet gasp slipping from your lips at the raw intensity of the connection between you.

His breath hitches against your palm, the tension in his body melting as if your words have unraveled something deep inside him. Slowly, his lips part, and he kisses the tips of your fingers reverently, like an unspoken promise—a vow to let go, to give in. 

His grip on your hips tightens, his pace quickening as he loses himself in you completely, every thrust a declaration of everything he’s too afraid to say aloud. His lips trail down the curve of your wrist, his body trembling as you murmur mantras. 

“Yes, yes, yes–” Each cry ripped from your throat, every time his cock stuffed you full. “Oh God, yes.” You yelled, as his pace became violent. 

Logan’s pace grows more frantic, each thrust a calculated mix of dominance and desperation. His breath is heavy, and the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the space between you, your cries echoing through the room.

But as your body trembles beneath him, he suddenly slows, pulling back just enough to make you gasp. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and intense. “I’m not close to God,” he growls, his voice rough with lust and something else—something conflicted. “Never have been. I don’t deserve a fucking angel like you… but damn if I’m not enjoying every moment of this.”

A twisted smirk curls on his lips as he watches your expression shift, the heat of his touch still burning against your skin. “Say it. Say ‘Father Logan,’” he demands, his hands gripping you harder. “Tell me you can feel the guilt, the sin in every fucking inch of me. Say it.”

You moan softly as his grip tightens, your body arching beneath him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as the heat between you intensifies. Despite the sinful nature of his words, the way his voice trembles with need makes your breath catch in your throat.

“I– Father Logan,” you gasp, the words slipping from your lips in a mixture of pleasure and desperation, the name falling so easily from your mouth, like it’s the only thing that feels right in that moment.

Logan’s smirk deepens, but there's a trace of something more in his eyes—something raw and uncontrollable. He presses in harder, his pace picking up again, each thrust making you cry out as he fills you completely. His lips brush against your ear, and he lets out a low, satisfied chuckle.

“Damn right, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “You’ve got no idea how much I love hearing that. It makes this… all of it feel real.” He leans down to kiss you roughly, his hands pushing you further into the mattress as he continues his relentless rhythm. "I’m so fucking far from anything holy, but you make me feel... like maybe I can be something good for you. Just for you."

The tension builds again, making every thrust deeper, harder, a wild mix of passion and pain as he drives you both toward something inevitable. He holds you close, his breath hot against your skin, his name—a prayer and a sin—escaping from your lips with each frantic cry.

“Come on princess, I know you’re burning up down here.” His heavy hand presses down on your stomach, and you sob. He was nowhere near wrong, waves of heat ran from the tips of your toes, to the center of your core. 

“I know you’re close ‘cause I’m close.” He holds your hips as he comes back up to his full height, lifting you with him as he rests his knee on the edge of the seat. The new position allows him to somehow hit deeper at a different angle and that’s all it takes to make your vision fade, and see white light. 

Your body shakes violently as the coils in your stomach finally unravel, a string of curses leave your lips, as your hips jerk violently. Logan still chasing his release. 

“Oh fuck,” Logan chokes out in a low, gravelly tone, his voice rough with need. His hands grip your hips tighter, his pace never slowing, even as you tremble beneath him. 

He pants, his words barely coherent as his thrusts become more urgent. “You’re like a fucking blessing I don’t deserve, but I can’t stop, can’t pull away—" He groans as he feels you pulse around him, coming down from your high. "God, you’re like heaven wrapped in skin.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He continues to pound into you, the newly released heat rebuilding the more Logan drove into you. 

“F-father, I’m gonna– I can’t–” Tears spill from your eyes again, but this time Logan doesn’t wipe them away. 

“Shh, you’re such a good girl,” His hands wrap around your throat as ripples of pleasure pinch at his nerves, “A goddamn angel.” And he squeezes his hands, hips coming to a halt as his cock pulses inside of you.

As he fills you with thick and heavy strings of his load, another orgasm splits your mind in half and your mind goes blank as you cry out for Logan. 

“Ah, fuuck…” He sighs as he hesitantly pulls out. You whimper as he watches you clench around nothing. He picks you up with no problem at all and he switches positions, having you sit on his lap. 

You can feel slick dripping from your abused cunt, and you attempt to move worried about ruining the man’s pants. 

"Let go," he breathes, keeping you firmly in his lap despite your squirming. His fingers dig into your hips possessively. "Want to feel what I've done to you." You whimper as he captures your lips in a deep kiss, still oversensitive from before. His hands roam your body with renewed hunger, like he can't get enough. Your body trembles as his fingers trace your spine, stopping to knead your ass. 

"Heaven sent," he murmurs against your lips, breaking the kiss to admire the marks he's left. When you try to look away, shy under his heated gaze, he gently turns your face back to his. "Look at me, angel." His eyes hold yours, dark with lingering desire and something deeper. His thumb brushes your cheek tenderly, a stark contrast to his earlier roughness. You both know this moment has changed everything between you, crossing a line that can't be uncrossed. But as he pulls you closer, neither of you can bring yourselves to regret it.

--

a/n: pls support by reblogging.

[keysmanydudes]

meeow very empty doodle page of 3 completely different horror games

[wholoveseggs]

Small Victories

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} After a tourney in which Daemon places second, he seeks solace from his loss and finds it in his little northern maid.

♡♡ Hello darlings! I'm branching out slightly and writing about a new character {Don't worry, I'm still writing Elijah} xoxo ♡♡

5.3k words - Warnings: smutt, size!kink, rough sex, dom!daemon, slight choking, virgin!reader, northern!reader, servant!reader, pre-dance Daemon, huge power imbalance...

♡♡ Hey! I didn't tag anyone because I'm unsure if you want to read Daemon content. If you wish to be tagged in future Daemon let me know ♡♡

You didn't like the Red Keep, it was too grand for your liking. Even with all of the people in it you still felt alone. At night, you could hear voices echoing throughout the halls, sometimes they were singing or laughing and other times they were screaming or moaning.

You could never tell where the sounds were coming from, it gave the place an odd feeling of being haunted. Ghosts weren't something you put your faith in, but that didn't stop the hair from standing up on the back of your neck whenever you heard a strange sound.

If it was up to you, you wouldn't live here. You would be back in the little cottage you grew up in, far into the north and as far away from King's landing as you could possibly be. It was a funny contradiction, that such a grand place in a warm environment could feel so cold, while a small house in the cold north could feel so full of warmth.

The last thing your mother said to you, was that you should be grateful. That your place in the Red Keep was the highest honor your family could ever hope to receive, and that you should do anything to stay here. To be a lady's maid to the queen, was the highest achievement a low born could achieve.

You tried to be, even though your heart yearned for the snowy landscape of your childhood. You wanted to be happy, you were thankful, but you couldn't help the way you missed the north.

So to try and capture just a bit of personal freedom, you would walk the halls at night. It was the only time you could pretend to be somewhere else, even if it was only for a moment. You would close your eyes and imagine yourself somewhere new and exciting, and when you opened them you would be reminded of where you really were.

Tonight you were in a particularly adventurous mood, there was a tourney the next day for Prince Viserys and his wife Aemma to celebrate their wedding. The Red Keep would be full of guests and it would be loud and full of life, you were sure to be very busy, and so you decided to stay up late and postpone sleep for a few more hours.

There was a room in the library that had a view of the city, one you liked to frequent often. It had a large window and a balcony that was rarely used. It was a nice place to go to clear your mind and think about home.

When you entered, nobody was around except for a cat that was perched on the windowsill. She was a lovely thing with black fur and bright green eyes, the perfect color of a dark forest at night.

"Hello, beautiful." You greeted her with a smile and a light stroke along her back. You looked out the window with her at your side, watching the moon reflect off the ocean and the waves crashing against the shore.

The sound of footsteps behind you made you look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on a man with a face that made you stand up straight and bow your head.

"Prince Daemon." You greeted him, not looking up from the floor.

"Young maidens like yourself shouldn't be out so late." He said, stepping closer to you. You didn't dare move or even breathe, his presence made you feel like you were caught doing something wrong.

"I couldn't sleep, my lord," You answered, not meeting his eyes. This was your first real meeting with the prince, but you knew the rumors that surrounded him.

He didn't respond to your answer, instead, he turned his attention towards the view. Leaning against the window, his posture was dismissive, as though you weren't there. He gave you a side glance that read, 'leave,' and so you did, not wanting to get in his way.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to intrude." You said, walking past him, heading towards the doorway.

"You are from the north," he spoke, still looking out into the water.

"Yes, my lord," You answered, stopping when he started speaking.

"How did you find yourself as a maid in the south?" He asked, looking at you, his eyes piercing through you.

The truth of the matter made you feel shameful, even though it was beyond your control. So you decided to tell him what you've been telling everyone.

"I was given as a gift for our new queen," You said, looking down at the floor.

"Is that what they call it?" Daemon laughed, his laugh was as harsh as his voice, the kind of laugh that could cut you open if you let it. "I heard you were given away as payment for a debt."

Your cheeks reddened and you looked at the ground, your throat closing up at the mention of your family's failure. Pride wasn't something you could afford anymore, but you couldn't stop the words that came out of your mouth.

"I didn't realize that princes were so fond of gossip." You said, meeting his eyes, your words were meant to cut, and they did.

He stood up straight, his expression unreadable as he closed the distance between the two of you, towering over you.

"Ahh, so they did sell you." He smirked, looking down at you. "Whoring can make you better coin… recover a debt quicker."

Your hands balled up into fists and you took a step closer, a defiant glare on your face.

He chuckled and tilted his head, he reached out and touched your chin, his hand was soft but firm as he turned your face to look at him.

"With a pretty face like yours, I'm sure you would make quite a bit of coin," His voice was a purr, a seductive growl that made your insides feel tight. "I could show you a better use for those lips."

His words were shockingly vulgar, his voice was rough and commanding and his eyes were hungry, but you didn't move away, you stayed still. You knew the dragon prince was a scandalous man, but you didn't think he would ever be so bold.

"There is no honor in a whore's coin." You answered, pushing his hand away from your face.

"Is there honor in emptying the queen's chamber pot?" He retorted, grinning slightly at how red your cheeks had become.

"Not all of us have the opportunity to choose what sort of honor we can acquire,” You said, standing your ground as best as you could.

He towered over you, his tall frame casting a shadow that almost completely covered you. He wasn't like the king or queen, who were kind and generous. There was something dark and malicious about him, as though the great beasts of his house lurked just below his skin, waiting to come out.

"You have a smart mouth, little northerner." He mused, his eyes drifting down to your lips. "It's a wonder that the queen has not put a gag in it."

"It's a poor quality I have yet to overcome." You responded, pulling away from him and putting some distance between the two of you.

He watched you move away, his eyes following your movements and the shape of your body, making you feel hot.

"I will think of you when I win the tourney tomorrow." He said, his tone smug and confident. "A sweet northern flower to bring back with me."

"You will be bringing back nothing, prince Daemon." You said, your voice a warning.

He laughed and looked at you, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"We'll see about that."

And with those final words, he left the room. You felt flustered and annoyed, a strange mixture of feelings that confused and angered you. You didn't like the prince, but he made your heart race, his voice and his eyes made you feel a strange sense of heat.

You wanted to be disgusted, and yet all you could think about was seeing him again.

It was a hectic morning, with all the knights and guests arriving, and you were late. Your tardiness had earned you a sharp reprimand from your head maid, but you were too distracted by the upcoming event to care.

The prospect of seeing the prince again was something you weren't sure you wanted, but couldn't stop thinking about.

You didn't like the way his eyes lingered on you, or how he made you feel things that shouldn't be felt. The rogue prince was indeed a fitting title, he was a scoundrel and a liar, a man of dishonor.

You thought that maybe he was the sort of person that the south created, perhaps they took people like you and turned them into someone like him. But then again, he wasn't really a southerner, no, he was a dragon.

The sound of cheers and laughter outside made your ears perk up. The queen was already seated with the other royals in their viewing box, and you were in a nearby tent, preparing more wine and food.

The tourney had just begun, and so far the knights had all performed well. You had only been paying a bit of attention, trying to do your job and keep out of the way.

The head maid was a cruel, vindictive woman, and she had been taking out her frustration on you all day. Her temper was short and her hands were rough, she was the kind of woman that would slap your hands or pull your hair if she was upset. But today she decided to simply make your life miserable with her words.

She gave you the worst jobs and the heaviest items to carry, and when she did allow you to stand and rest, she would hit your feet with her broom and tell you to get back to work.

"Once you are finished pouring wine, I want you to go to the prince's tent and serve him." She ordered, her eyes were sharp and her words were harsh.

"The prince has a squire to serve him." You protested, the idea of facing Daemon again made your cheeks turn red.

"The prince requested a woman's company,” She smiled, her eyes looking at you with an almost wicked satisfaction.

"I believe what the prince is looking for can be found on the street of silk, not among the ladies maids." You countered, hoping to change her mind.

"It's an honor to serve the prince, and he has specifically asked for a northern girl." The head maid was adamant, not willing to let this go.

You clenched your jaw and took a deep breath, biting your tongue as you looked at the floor.

"Very well, madam."

You held back tears as you climbed the stairs to the viewing box, pouring wine into the cups. Keeping your eyes low and only lifting them when absolutely necessary as you made your way down the line of royals.

Everyone began to stir and chat as the final round was announced. You turned to face the arena, watching as the prince mounted his horse, the sight of him made your heart flutter.

He was a handsome man, there was no denying that, his long blonde hair was braided and tied back, and his purple eyes were focused and determined.

His horse was a massive stallion, black as night, and he rode him as though they were one. He moved with a grace and confidence that was captivating.

The final round began, the two men charging at each other. You were nervous and excited, not knowing what to expect.

The clash of steel was the only sound in the air, it echoed throughout the entire arena. The crowd was silent, their eyes locked on the scene before them.

The two men passed each other, once, twice, three times. The tension building with each near miss, until finally the two knights clashed again.

Daemon's opponent had a slight edge over him, being bigger and stronger, but Daemon was quicker. But on the fourth pass, his opponent managed to catch him off guard, sending him flying into the dirt.

The crowd gasped, their hands covering their mouths as the prince's horse bucked and ran, leaving him in the dust.

You winced at the sight, it wasn't a good fall. He landed on his back, hard, and he lay still for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut as he caught his breath.

Only when the head maid cleared her throat did you realize you had been holding your breath.

"You are needed in the prince's tent, girl." she commanded, grabbing the jug from your hands and giving you a stern look.

You nodded, taking the tray of food and wine from the table and heading out of the box. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty, the thought of seeing Daemon after such a public humiliation was not something you were looking forward to.

The air was alive with the roar of the people, and the thumping of their feet sounded like thunder. They were chanting for the champion, something that would surely upset Daemon even more.

When you got to his tent, you hesitated, taking a moment to calm your nerves. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the noise of the crowd fade away.

You stepped inside, finding him sitting in a chair, his shirt was off and his squire was cleaning a nasty gash on his arm.

"I'm sorry for intruding, Prince Daemon." You said, placing the tray of food on the table and pouring a cup of wine.

"Leave," he barked at his squire, his voice was gruff and his jaw was clenched.

"But my prince-" his squire protested, looking up from the wound he was treating.

"Now."

The boy left quickly, leaving you alone with the brooding prince.

"Would you like some wine, my lord?" You asked, your voice soft and timid, the last thing you wanted was to make him even more upset.

"No," he hissed, his voice sharp as a knife. "Bring me a new shirt."

You did as he asked, walking over to the large chest in the corner. It was full of clothes, the colors and fabrics were fine and beautiful. You selected a clean white shirt and brought it over to him, your eyes focused on the ground.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice was quiet, but it was a demand, not a request.

You lifted your eyes, meeting his gaze. His eyes were cold, the same shade of violet that had captivated you was now a glare.

You did very well, my lord," You tried to reassure him, your voice soft and comforting.

"Is that meant to be comforting?" He asked, his tone was harsh and his expression was a scowl.

"Fine. I have never seen a worse display than the one you put on today," you said, the words slipping from your mouth before you could stop them.

He smiled, then laughed, his shoulders shaking as his amusement grew. Only his brother the king would ever talk to him this way, and here you were, a young low born northerner, mocking him. He didn't know why he enjoyed it coming from you, perhaps it was because your words meant nothing. You were no one, and he was the prince, and yet he found himself intrigued.

"That was quite a show, wasn't it?" He chuckled, the sound was hollow, not at all humorous.

"It was humiliating," you answered, the words escaping before you could stop them.

"Careful," he warned, his eyes narrowing. "You're lucky I find your insolence amusing."

"I thought it was why you had asked for me," you retorted, setting the shirt on the table and taking a step back.

He stood up from the chair, closing the space between the two of you. The air was thick with tension, his eyes boring into yours, his face was inches from yours.

"I didn't lose the tourney," he stated, his voice a low growl.

"You didn't win either," you countered, your cheeks flushed red, your heart racing in your chest.

He smiled, the gesture was almost predatory, he reached out and grabbed your face, his hands were rough and his grip was tight.

"You are quite the mouthy little wench," his words were a harsh whisper, his breath hot against your skin.

You didn't answer, afraid of what he would do if you spoke. He seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes dancing with amusement as he stared at you.

"On your knees," he ordered, his tone demanding.

"My lord, I-" you protested, trying to pull away.

"Kneel," his voice was louder this time, and you knew that he was not going to repeat himself.

You hesitated for a moment, but he was the prince, and you couldn't disobey him. So you lowered yourself onto your knees, looking up at him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.

"Is it true that northern girls can take a cock better than southern ones?" He asked, his hand still holding onto your chin.

You didn't know how to respond, his words making your cheeks burn. You could only stare at him, your mind reeling as you tried to figure out what he wanted.

He smiled, and the look in his eyes made your heart race. "Open your mouth, little northerner."

You did as he commanded, your eyes never leaving his. He pushed his thumb past your lips and slowly pressed down onto your tongue, rubbing it in circles before slowly dragging it out.

Your lips parted and your breathing became heavier as he traced his wet thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes fixated on the movement.

"Beautiful." He whispered before sliding his thumb back into your mouth, pushing it all the way into your throat, causing you to gag.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth and wiped the spit off on your cheek before grabbing you by the arms and lifting you up, turning you around and pushing you face first into the table.

"My lord," you gasped, struggling against his strong grip.

Daemon laughed at the look of shock on your face, his cock growing harder at the sight. "See? I knew you would make a great whore," he smirked, his words bringing a flush to your face.

He pulled your dress up, exposing your ass and legs. His hands were rough as he groped you, squeezing your thighs and your cheeks.

You pushed against him, trying to free yourself, but his grip was too strong. He pushed your thighs apart, his hand trailing up to your cunt, his fingers stroking your entrance, teasing you.

He softened at your defiance, a smirk crossing his lips. "I enjoy you, little northerner. Perhaps I should keep you," he mused.

He slid his finger into your cunt, his touch gentle and slow. You whimpered, pushing against him again.

"You would be my little northern flower," he murmured, his finger moving in and out of your cunt, the pace becoming quicker. "A blue rose in my garden."

You were ashamed of how aroused you were, the prince's touch was intoxicating, and you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his hand. You had never been with a man before and the pleasure he was giving you was beyond anything you had ever felt.

He slid another finger inside of you, his movements quick and rough. You moaned, biting your lip as you felt yourself getting closer to release.

He suddenly pulled away, the sudden absence of his touch made you whimper. He spun you around, knocking objects off the table and pinning you against it. Your hands went to his chest, pushing him back, but his grip was too strong, his eyes filled with lust.

"You're a feisty one," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands gripping your ass, lifting you up and pressing you against his hips. "I guess it's true that the fires always burn hotter in the north,"

You shivered as he sucked and bit at the skin on your neck, his teeth scraping across your sensitive flesh, leaving red marks behind. You couldn't help but moan, the feeling was so intense, and the sounds were so sinful.

"My prince... I..." You stuttered, trying to find the words, but he cut you off with a kiss.

The feel of his hands on your body, his lips on yours, his cock hard against you, was intoxicating. You had never felt this way before, this desire, this want. He made you feel like you were drowning in the fire of his touch. He was a dragon, and he would take what he wanted.

You couldn't resist, you gave in, kissing him back, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He smelled of blood, dirt and sweat, a combination that shouldn't have been appealing, but was.

You could taste his lust on your lips, and it made you hungry for more. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing yourself closer to him, and he moaned, the sound rumbling in his chest. He was so much larger than you, so much stronger, and you felt so small in his arms.

His hand trailed down your chest, slowly untying the strings that held up your dress, his fingers tracing over the fabric, teasing you.

"Sweet little northern girl," he teased, his voice a low growl. "Are you going to give yourself to me?"

"Yes," you whispered, your cheeks flushed pink.

He kissed you again, his lips rough and demanding, his hand pushing your dress down, exposing your breasts. "You've never touched yourself before, have you?”

"No, my Prince," you whispered, your little hands curled into his chest, your nails digging into his skin.

"That's alright, I'll show you how it's done."

His hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers trailing up, his touch light and teasing. You let out a gasp as his fingers brushed over your cunt, touching a spot that made your body tremble.

"This little spot right here," he said, rubbing his thumb against it, "is the most sensitive part of your body. The more pressure, the better."

You nodded, gasping and moaning as he pressed his thumb against it, circling it. You could feel the heat rising within you, the pleasure building.

"Feels good doesn't it?" He whispered, his voice husky, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Y-yes," you stuttered, your hips moving, grinding against his hand.

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

"Do you like being my little whore, hmm?" He asked, his lips trailing down your neck, his kisses hot and wet.

"N-no," you moaned, pushing him back, trying to fight against him.

He laughed, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. "Liar," he whispered, his tongue licking over the marks he'd made.

His hands reaching down to his waist, undoing his breeches and pulling them off, his cock springing free. You gasped, your eyes wide as you took in the size of him.

He took your hand and placed it on his cock, his eyes burning into yours. "Go on, feel it," he whispered.

Your fingers curled around his cock, your small hand barely able to fit around him. You moved your hand, sliding it down the length of his shaft, his cock thick and pulsing in your hand. His skin was so warm and smooth, his breathing deepening as you began to move your hand up and down, stroking him slowly.

You could see the scars from battle stretched across his chest and torso. Small claw-like marks around his pectoral and a deep line that stretched down the left side of his rib cage. He was a hardened warrior, and you could tell by his scars, he had been through much to get where he was now.

You squeezed his cock, moving your hand up and down, his breathing deepening and his eyes growing hazy. He watched you, his gaze following every movement you made. You were starting to get more comfortable, taking pleasure in watching him, in making him feel good. You found the nerve to press the pad of your thumb against the tip, feeling the moisture leaking from him.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice low and husky.

You felt a wave of pride, knowing that you were pleasing him, that he liked the way you were touching him. You continued to stroke him, squeezing and pulling at his cock, watching his face, seeing the pleasure on his features.

He groaned, his eyes closing and his head tilting back, his breath catching. You could feel his cock throbbing in your hand, and you knew that he was getting close.

He let out a low growl and grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. "If you keep that up, I'm going to spill my seed all over this pretty little dress of yours," he said, his eyes full of heat.

"Is that so, my lord?" You asked, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you under him, his body caging you, trapping you beneath him. He was breathing hard, his face flushed, his cock hard and resting on your stomach. His eyes burned into yours, his gaze intense, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.

You weren't talking back anymore, he could see the fear in your eyes, the hesitance, and that only made him want you more. His hand went to your throat, applying gentle pressure, a silent warning.

He could feel you trembling beneath him, and he tightened his grip, a primal, possessive urge rising within him. Your small hands pushing into his chest, clutching at his heated flesh.

"Open for me," he growled, his eyes fixed on yours.

You parted your thighs, allowing him to press closer to you. He growled, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist, his cock brushing against your cunt. He felt you tighten, your eyes widening with trepidation.

He chuckled, loving how terrified and eager you were at the same time. He gave you a moment, and then he slowly pushed into you. You whimpered, your nails digging into his back, your eyes closed, your face twisted in pain.

"Breathe," he said, rubbing his thumb against your cheek, "it will hurt for a just moment and then I will make you feel good,"

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt his cock hit your maidenhead.

"Are you ready, little northerner?" He whispered.

You gripped his forearms and nodded.

He pushed in slowly, breaking through your barrier. You cried out, the pain was intense and immediate. He groaned, the feel of your tight cunt was intoxicating.

He stayed still, giving you time to adjust. Your nails dug into his arms, leaving deep scratches in his flesh.

"Such a pretty, tight little cunt," he growled, nipping at your neck.

You kept your eyes closed, trying to focus on his words and not the pain. He began to move with slow, deep strokes, his cock stretching you, filling you. He was bigger than he felt in your hands, and you swore you could feel him everywhere.

He moaned, his hips rocking into you, his hand still on your throat, making you feel lightheaded. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed. You felt so full of him, stretched open, the pain and pleasure mixing into one.

He watched your reaction with a smirk, amused by your shocked, satisfied expression. He was moving slowly, enjoying your warmth and the feel of your cunt clenching around him. He knew you were enjoying it, too, your eyes half-closed, a soft moan escaping your lip. Your small frame was arched to his body, your hands holding on to his neck.

You were surprised at his gentleness. You'd heard that the dragon prince liked to rough up women, but he was being as careful as if you were made of spun sugar. You felt so small and helpless underneath him, his large body nearly engulfing yours, and yet he wasn't hurting you. His touch was delicate, reverent. The way he spoke to you, calling you pet names, made your heart skip a beat.

You arched against him, a soft cry leaving your lips as his strokes got faster, deeper, hitting a place inside you that sent a sharp, hot pleasure through you.

"Does my little northerner like her prince's cock?" He said, a laugh in his voice, he began to pick up the pace, pounding into you.

You squeaked and pushed on his chest, the sensations becoming too much. He grabbed your hips and held you still, fucking you hard and fast, his eyes full of fire.

You felt your release rising up inside you, the tension in your body winding tighter and tighter. You could feel yourself clamping down on his cock, the pleasure almost too much, the sweet pain sending you over the edge.

He groaned at the sight of you coming undone, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you shattered around him. He could feel the tension in your muscles as your climax tore through you. He slowed his movements, easing out the last waves of pleasure, drawing it out until you were a shuddering, moaning mess.

He was close behind, his thrusts erratic, his breathing harsh. He pulled out and spilled his seed across your stomach, his hips bucking. He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a contented sigh leaving his lips. At least he had one victory today.

Your face was hot with shame, your mind unable to comprehend what just happened. The prince's seed was cooling on your stomach and chest, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. Your hands went to your face, covering it as tears came to your eyes, you had never felt so good and so embarrassed at once.

He moved off of you, his eyes locked on yours, a smirk crossing his lips. He looked satisfied, his gaze wandering over your body, lingering on the wetness between your legs, the mess he'd made of you. He tossed you a cloth to clean yourself with. You wiped his seed off your skin, watching him dress, his blonde hair still braided back, his purple eyes full of lust and desire. He was a warrior, a dragon, he was beauty and strength, power and masculinity. He was everything you wanted and feared, a beast who could destroy you.

He gave you a side glance, his eyes full of amusement. "You may go," he said, shooing you away with a hand.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, as you took a shaky breath. You stood up, gathering the pieces of your dress and your underclothes. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt weak, sore, and full of shame.

"Yes, my prince," you said quietly, looking at the floor, unable to meet his eyes.

He chuckled, the sound of his voice making you shiver. "Don't be so timid, little northerner. This is the beginning, not the end," he said, his words sending a jolt of fear and excitement through you.

He was right, this was only the beginning. You were his servant, and he could do with you as he pleased. He would have you come to him whenever he chose, on the warmest summer nights and the coldest winter days. He would take what he wanted, when he wanted.

He was a dragon, and his will was as strong as his blood.

And deep down, you knew you would enjoy it. He was the perfect thing to distract you from the mundanity of your life, the endless monotony of serving others.

Perhaps the Red Keep wouldn't be so terrible, not if it meant serving him.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

the alchemy | iii. the first time

pairing: no outbreak!dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

chapter rating: Explicit [18+ only, minors dni, dbf/secret relationship, age gap (joel is 34, reader is 24), alcohol consumption, one douchebag of a man interacting with reader, jealousy, angst, oral (f!rec), soft dom!joel, unprotected piv, not proofread—may contain some typos but i can’t be bothered to check]

summary: you go out to the bar with your friend Maria and run into the Miller brothers. jealousy arises, feelings are made known, joel shows you just how badly he wants you.

wc: 4.4k

the masterlist | next chapter

You never did get the chance to sneak over to Joel’s place. Most nights, your dad found himself over in Joel’s backyard or in his living room, the two of them tossing back beers while talking work or watching whatever game was on. 

You tried to tag along, if only for the sake of seeing Joel, but it quickly became apparent to you that Joel had no intentions of slipping up around your father. He hardly looked your way, save for a few longing glances whenever your dad left the room. So, instead of sitting there like a third wheel, you busied yourself with hanging out with some old friends at the bars downtown. 

Tonight, a Friday night, would have been the perfect opportunity to try and spend some time with Joel, except that he was busy celebrating Tommy’s birthday. Tommy had invited you out, too, but the thought of hanging out with both Miller boys seemed a bit too awkward. Tommy had no idea about you and Joel, and Joel had heard every detail about you and Tommy. It didn’t seem fair to Joel to force him into watching his brother flirt with you all night, and vice versa. 

But you weren’t about to let Friday night go to waste by locking yourself up in your room and reading. 

You decided you’d head downtown with one of your old roommates from sophomore year, Maria. You could always count on her to turn a bad night into a drunken memory, and that’s exactly what you needed. Slipping into one of the few mini-dresses that you’d kept from college and a pair of chunky heels—you were not about to be wearing stilettos to the club—you called yourself an Uber and headed downtown. 

The bar she picked for drinks before the club was more of a dive, leaving you feeling a bit overdressed in the dim lighting. A couple frat boys tried to catch your attention as you walked past them to pull up a seat by Maria at the bar, but you ignored them. After your date with Joel, you had no interest in flirting with anyone, let alone a couple of little boys. 

You could only hope he was just as faithful to whatever this thing was between you as you were. 

“Look at you!” Maria let out a squeal and pulled you in for a hug before giving your outfit a once over. “I see you came out tonight on a mission.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Yes, to get as drunk as I did freshman year.”

“I can get you there,” she assured, giving you a wink before grabbing the bartender’s attention. “We’re gonna need a couple shots. Tequila, maybe?”

You groaned but nodded your agreement. Tequila turned you into a drunken mess, but wasn’t that exactly what you were aiming for tonight? 

“So,” she said, smirking at you. “Tell me more about your older man.”

“Stop,” you said, laughing. “He’s not even a decade older than me.”

“Old enough to be scandalous,” she said, shrugging. “And no judgment, by the way. I love an older man.” 

“He’s so…ugh,” you groaned, rolling your head back. “He’s perfect. And totally off limits. And god, I just want to ride the wheels off him.”

“You talking about me?” A man entered your conversation from beside you, forcing you to give him a scrunched look of disapproval. He was older, that much was true. But he was also sleazy, smelled like cheap beer, and looked to be the same age as your father. 

Not Joel in the slightest. 

“Definitely not,” Maria said, gagging. “Turn around and fuck off.”

“Cunt,” he spat, as if he expected the two of you to cower. Instead, his insult was only met with laughter. 

“Anyways,” you said, turning back to Maria. “His name is—“

“Is that who I think it is?” This time, the voice hitting your ear was familiar. Too familiar. 

You carefully turned around, a faltering smile on your face as you met Tommy’s eyes. “Tommy, hey.”

“Thought you said you were too busy to come out for my birthday,” he said, arching an eyebrow at you as he smirked. 

“Yeah, she’s busy with me,” Maria replied, mimicking his stance. Tommy eyed her with amused shock, chuckling at her refusal to back down. She turned to you, nudging her chin towards him. “Should I tell him to fuck off or no?”

“No,” you said, chuckling. “Tommy, this is Maria. Maria, Tommy.”

He held his hand out for her to shake, which she accepted after making him sweat for a few seconds. “Nice t’meet ya, Maria. Pretty name.”

“Wish I could say the same,” she said. “Tommy’s a little boy’s name.”

“I keep tellin’ him to change it.” 

Oh god. That voice. You knew it like the back of your hand. You heard it in your dreams, you fantasized about the way it would sound when he was moaning your name. 

Joel. 

“There you are,” Tommy said, patting Joel on the shoulder as he joined your group. You turned around to face the bartender as he set your shots down on the counter. “Maria, this is my brother, Joel.”

“Nice meetin’ ya, ma’am,” he said, polite and southern as ever. “Y’all takin’ shots?”

Maria looked your way, curious over the fact that you had yet to do so much as acknowledge Joel. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, nodding your head absently before picking up your shot of tequila and downing it. 

“Bitch, we were supposed to do that together,” she said, laughing as she reached for hers to do the same. 

“Next round is on me,” Joel offered, squeezing in beside you in the empty space the sleazy guy from earlier left. His arm brushed yours as he settled his elbows on the bartop, the sensation warm in a way the burn of tequila could never replicate. You trailed your eyes up from the contact he made, slowly lifting to meet his. He smiled once you locked eyes with him, a look of relief washing over his handsome face. “Didn’t think I’d run into you.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, a soft sigh of a thing. 

“Y’alright?” he asked, lowering his voice as he leaned in just the slightest. 

You glanced over at Tommy, finding him in the midst of a debate with Maria. Turning back to Joel, you twisted your mouth and shrugged. “I’m good. Just…fighting the awkwardness.”

“What’s awkward?” he asked, turning to face you better. “Are you…regrettin’ things?”

You were quick to shake your head, your eyes softening as you noticed the brief look of panic in his. “No. No, not anything like that. Just…you know. Tommy.”

He let out a sigh, nodding his head. “Don’t worry ‘bout that. I told you, I could care less about what went on between y’all.”

“And what happens when he tries to flirt with me in front of you?” you asked, smirking as you tipped your chin to look up at him. 

“Someone’s got an ego,” he teased, his smile enough to make you weak in the knees. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry ‘bout all that. He seems awfully interested in your friend.”

You turned to check the two of them out, and just as Joel said, Tommy looked as smitten as a schoolboy over Maria. “Well, look at that.”

“Mmhm,” Joel hummed in agreement. “Stars in his eyes and everything.” 

“Why don’t you look at me like that?” you asked, just to tease him. 

“I do,” he countered, drawing your attention back to him. “Just not when you’re lookin’.”

“Is that right?” 

“Mmhm.”

“Then how come you act like I’m not in the room whenever I come over with my dad?” You crossed your arms over your chest, pushing your cleavage together just to watch his eyes fall to it. 

“Because I like bein’ alive,” he said, chuckling. “But don’t think for a minute I’m not lookin’ at you every time he stops payin’ attention.” 

You smiled, rolling your eyes at him to hide the fact that inside, he was burning you alive with his words. Melting you to the fucking core. 

“What’re y’all talkin’ about?” Tommy asked, ruining the moment. 

“Just brainstormin’ ideas for y’all’s weddin’,” Joel said, the lie smooth as silk on his tongue. “I’m assumin’ we’re gonna be the best man and maid of honor. Only right given that we were here the first time y’all laid eyes on eachother.” 

“Shut up,” Tommy said, chuckling as he tried to hide the flush in his cheeks. Maria, however, didn’t bother to deny it. 

“I’m thinking Vegas for the bachelorette party,” she said, looking at you. “Hire as many strippers as you want.”

“Y’all are stupid,” Tommy chuckled again, shaking his head before leaning over to counter to order another round of shots. “You’re payin’, right, Joel?”

“Mmhm.”

“Then make it top shelf,” Tommy said to the bartender. “Gotta treat my future wife.”

“Technically, it’s Joel who’s treating your future wife,” you said, earning a laugh from Maria. 

“Yeah, why don’t I go talk to him instead?” 

You bit your lip to keep yourself from declaring him taken, the jealousy brewing in your chest foreign and entirely baseless. 

“Come on, Joel,” Maria said, walking over to loop her arm in his—the entire time keeping her eyes on Tommy just to watch him bite his tongue. “Come have a cigarette with me outside.”

“I don’t smoke,” Joel said, his eyes glancing your way. 

“Then come watch me smoke,” she said, tugging him to follow her. 

You could only stand there and watch as she dragged him off into the back patio of the bar, leaving you alone with Tommy. 

“I’m gonna marry that woman,” Tommy declared, watching her sway her hips as she walked off. 

“Joel might beat you to the punch,” you muttered, folding your arms over the counter to stare blankly ahead at the wall of liquor in front of you. It beat watching Maria walk off with the man of your dreams. 

“Nah, he’s seein’ somebody,” Tommy said. “Won’t tell me shit about it, but he seems into her.”

You smiled to yourself, feeling a bit of relief. 

“I think it’s that girl that moved in a few houses down from y’all,” he added. “Ava, I think. Pretty blonde, has a daughter around Sarah’s age. He was actin’ flirty when we went over to help fix her water heater a couple of days ago.”

Well, there went the relief. 

Ava…the name was unfamiliar, as was her description. But it wasn’t like you made a habit of going around to meet your neighbors. Joel, apparently, was more than happy to do just that.  

“What about you?” Tommy asked, nudging your side. “Still not ready for the whole datin’ thing?”

“No,” you managed. “Thought I might be, but…I don’t know anymore.”

“You’ll find somebody,” he assured, the words that were meant to be comforting only sounded patronizing. “Just gotta keep your mind open.” 

“Hey, I’m not feeling good. Could you tell Maria that I decided to go home?” You weren’t about to just stand here and fake a smile when jealousy was tearing through you, alluring your mood and stomach. 

“Yeah, you alright?” He furrowed his brows at you, concerned and confused. 

“The alcohol’s not mixing well with my dinner,” you lied. “Just gonna go home and lay down.”

“Alright, well, I’ll call you a cab.” 

Twenty minutes later, you were back at home, all alone. Your dad had gone off to Vic’s place again for the weekend, and though you’d normally be glad to have the place to yourself, it just seemed so dark and lonely now. You wanted him around to distract you with boring conversation, to throw on one of his old action movies so that you could tune out your inner thoughts. But now, all you had to cling to was silence. 

Somehow, you found yourself out in the backyard eating the burger and fries you had delivered to your door, the night sky clear overhead. You sipped your soda and chewed mindlessly as you stared up at them, praying that a shooting star would streak across the sky just so that you could wish on it. You wouldn’t ask for much. Just for Joel to finally be yours. 

You’d come so close, your date with him fooling you into believing that the stars had aligned. But tonight threw that all off. 

Even if he was being flirty with you, even if he did look at you with the same twinkling brown eyes Tommy had fixed on Maria, that wouldn’t help the fact that you’d never get to claim him like you wanted to. Be it Tommy or your dad, someone was bound to get hurt if they found out about the two of you. Not to mention this Ava that Joel was apparently flirting with. 

Hope slipped through your fingers like water, leaving you with nothing but the chill of your reality. You’d never have him. Not completely. Maybe not at all. 

It was nearing one in the morning when your phone began to ring on your bedside table. You scrambled for it in a half-conscious haze, blindly accepting the call in case it was Maria. 

“Hello?” you said, your voice groggy with exhaustion. 

“Hey.” The sound of Joel’s voice shooed away any hopes of going back to sleep. You sat upright, pulling the phone away to check that it was, indeed, Joel who was calling. 

“Joel? What—what’s going on?” 

He sighed, the sound drawn out. “Well, one minute I’m standin’ outside with your friend, givin’ her Tommy’s entire life story, and the next, Tommy’s walkin’ over, tellin’ us you’d gone home. Didn’t say goodbye or anythin’.”

You let out a breath through your nostrils and sagged your shoulders. 

“I just wasn’t having a good time,” you admitted. “Didn’t want to ruin everyone’s fun with my bad mood.”

“You weren’t in a bad mood before I left,” he countered. “So what happened? Tommy say somethin’?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at no one. “Yeah, he said something about you flirting with a girl named Ava earlier this week. Ring any bells?”

“I wasn’t flirtin’ with her,” he argued. “Tommy might’ve thought I was, since he doesn’t know the difference between bein’ polite and tryin’ to get into someone’s pants, but I was just bein’ neighborly.”

“Yeah, just like you’re only being neighborly with me.” You shocked even yourself with your tone, the clipped bit of attitude that you’d never once given him.  

Another sigh slipped from him, along with a muttered curse. “Can you come downstairs and let me in so we can talk about this face to face? I’m not doin’ this over the phone.”

“There’s no point,” you said, though you found yourself doing exactly as he asked. “You have every right to flirt with other people. Just wish you would’ve told me about it so that I could move on.”

“Honey, I promise you, I wasn’t—“ You cut Joel off by opening the front door, finding him pacing on your doorstep with one hand rubbing his temples. He let it fall as he took you in, your old sleeping shirt and bare face, your frown and your arms crossed. Joel slipped his phone into his pocket and shook his head, his eyes softening. “I wasn’t flirtin’ with that Ava lady. Believe me or don’t, but I take this—“ He gestured between the two of you. “Seriously. I’m not lookin’ for anything else. I don’t want you to move on. I want…”

“What do you want, Joel?” 

“God, I want you.” He took a step towards you, and you allowed it. You might’ve even leaned in when he lifted a hand to cup your face. “I know I can’t give you what you deserve. You’ll have to hide and lie, sneak around and make excuses, but honey, I’m ready to do all that, too. I’ll lie to whoever I have to lie to, I’ll make the excuses so you don’t have to. Whatever it takes to have you, because I’ve wanted you from the minute I saw you.”

You knew this wasn’t going to end well. That be it you, or Joel, or Tommy, or your dad—someone was going to walk away upset. But god, when he looked at you like that…nothing else seemed to matter. You’d lie, too. You’d do whatever you had to do, just like he would, because despite all the roadblocks, your heart had chosen him. And it would continue to choose him, no matter the cost. 

“Joel,” you sighed, tugging him close by his shirt until he was pressed against you. He tilted your head back to slant his lips against yours, slow and careful at first before both of you grew too needy to care. 

He walked you back into the house, kicking the door shut behind him, all the while continuing to map the curve of your lips with his. “Tell me you want this, baby.”

You moaned against his lips, nodding your head as he pressed you against the wall. 

“Uh-uh,” he tutted with a smirk, pulling away with a shake of his head as he held your face in the palms of his hands. “Tell me. I wanna hear it from these pretty lips.”

“I want you, Joel.” You lifted your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him in again to kiss him slow and deep. One of Joel’s hands slid down to your waist, squeezing you tight against his body as he pinned you to the wall. You let a hand wander down his chest and stomach until you were cupping him through the soft denim of his jeans. “I want this.”

Joel groaned, pushing his arousal into your palm as he trailed his lips down your neck. You canted your head, giving him room to suck a mark against your thumping pulse, a soft sigh escaping your lips. “Better take me upstairs, otherwise I might just fuck you here against the wall.”

You liked that idea. 

So much, in fact, that you took it upon yourself to pop open the button of his jeans, tugging his zipper down to emphasize your point. 

“Fuck me,” you purred, slipping your hand beneath the cotton of his briefs to grasp the warm velvet of his cock. “Right here.”

“You’re gonna kill me,” he sighed, pulling away and taking the warmth of his body with him. But before you had the chance to pout over it, Joel was crouching to the floor in front of you, his hands roaming up your bare legs. “These fuckin’ thighs…want ‘em wrapped around my head ‘til I suffocate.”

You giggled, combing his hair back. “I prefer you alive.” 

He smiled, leaning in to kiss the inside of your thigh as he hiked your leg to rest on his shoulder. “Least I’d die a happy man.” 

You grinned down at him as he trailed his lips across the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to the area that throbbed with need. You lifted the hem of your sleep shirt to watch as he pressed a kiss against your clothed seam, his nose brushing against your clit. “Fuck, Joel.”

He hummed at the desperation in your voice, hooking his fingers into the side of your underwear to tug them to the side, exposing your wetness to the cool air around you. Dragging his thumb against your arousal, he pressed and circled it when it reached your clit, sending a heavenly strike of pleasure down your spine. “Look at that. Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy, honey.” 

His words and ministrations had you tossing your head back against the wall with a dull thump. 

This man was going to kill you, and god, you would go gladly.

“Look at me when I eat your pretty pussy, baby,” he commanded, bringing your hooded eyes back to him. “That’s it.”

He kept his eyes locked on yours as he leaned in, dragging the flat of his tongue up your seam and moaning at the taste. Your face scrunched up in pleasure, your fingers tightening their hold on his chocolate waves. “Fuck, y’taste so good, baby.” 

“Shit, Joel,” you whined, your hips bucking instinctively every time he swirled the tip of his tongue over your clit. 

Oral had never felt this good before. It had always been enjoyable, but never enough to bring you to the edge. But Joel kept you there the moment his tongue touched you, as if he had a special, sinful superpower he was keeping to himself. 

How on earth did his exes want anything more than this, right here? This beautiful man, his warm hands, his skilled tongue, those eyes that screamed adoration? 

You shoved them out of your mind. You wouldn’t waste a minute of this pleasure by giving them any attention. They’d made their choice, and now you were reaping the benefits of it. 

Joel’s lips molded around your clit, sucking the swollen bud into his mouth between swirls of his tongue, the tempo driving you closer to the edge with each switch. When he guided two thick fingers into your fluttering cunt, the dam inside you broke. You writhed against him, fucking those fingers deeper as your hips bucked against his mouth, curses and praise filling the silent room along with the wet sound of him drinking down your arousal until you felt boneless. 

“So fuckin’ sweet,” Joel murmured, kissing your sensitive clit softly before rising to his feet. He held your face in his hands, sharing your taste with you as he kissed you, his tongue dancing with yours. 

“Joel,” you whined, tugging at the waistband of his unbuttoned jeans. “I need you inside of me.”

He growled at that, turning you around to face the wall. “Yeah, you want my cock, baby?”

“Mmhm,” you moaned. You listened as he slid his jeans down to his knees before feeling him do the same to your underwear. 

“You want it inside?” he purred, slapping the heft of his thick cock against the flesh of your ass. “Want me to fuck you nice and deep?”

Shivers covered your arms in goosebumps in response to the beautiful filth slipping from his lips. “Yes, please.”

“Love it when you say please like that,” he murmured against the shell of your ear, his hips thrusting as he sandwiched his cock between the globes of your ass, teasing you with what was to come. “Wanna hear you say it again.”

“Please, Joel,” you whined, arching your back to meet his thrusts. “I want it so bad.”

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he groaned, one hand leaving your hip to grip his cock. He slid the fat tip of it across your wetness, coating himself in it before pressing lightly against your entrance. “Want you t’use your words when I’m fuckin’ you, baby. Alright? Tell me what you need.”

“Okay,” you managed, biting your lip as you turned your head to the side to watch him through your periphery. 

“So fuckin’ good,” he mumbled, shaking his head as a smile brightened his face. 

He didn’t keep you waiting long, his cock pressing into you slowly to give you time to adjust to his size until you’d swallowed him down to the base. Joel let out a ragged groan at the way your walls squeezed him in welcoming, his grip on your hips turning rough as he dragged himself out to the tip before slamming back in. You held onto the wall for purchase as his thrusts came on sharp and deep and deadly accurate. 

“Fuck, it feels so good right there,” you whined, clawing at the wall as he snapped his hips against your ass, the room filling with a lewd slap. 

“Yeah?” He narrowed the aim of his thrusts to target that spongy soft spot deep inside, making your stomach clench and thighs tingle. “Right there?”

“Fuck, yes,” you cried, reaching one hand back to rest on his hip. “Don’t fucking stop.”

“Uh-uh,” he promised, drilling into that spot like his life depended on it. “Not gonna stop ‘til I feel you comin’ all over me, baby.”

“Shit!” Your knees buckled so much that Joel had to wrap an arm around your waist just to hold you up, his free hand moving to your clit to rub circles into it. “Joel, I’m so fucking close!”

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, pressing a kiss to the side of your face. “G’on and come for me.” 

You let out a strangled sob and went lax in his arms, your climax spreading from the tip of your head down to your toes as he fucked you deep and slow, drawing it out until you were sure you’d blackout. 

“Where d’you want me?” he asked, his chest heaving against yours. 

“Inside,” you panted, only half-there, the other half lost in bliss. 

“Fuck.” Joel moaned into your ear, the sound sending another pulse of pleasure down your spine, making your walls squeeze him as he spilled deep inside your cunt. “Fuck.”

The two of you stood there, leaning your weight against the wall as you caught your breath, a comfortable silence washing over you. Your thighs were weak and trembling when he slipped out and pulled away, forcing you to cling to the wall for support. Joel turned you around to face him, a grin that spread from ear to ear on his face as he took you in. 

“Fuck, you’re pretty when you’re fucked out,” he said, leaning in to kiss your lips. “How was I?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Too good. Suspiciously good.” 

He helped you over to the couch after buttoning his pants and helping you slip back into your underwear, plopping down beside your pleasure-limp form. “I’m gonna get addicted to watchin’ you come like that.” 

You rolled your eyes at him and snuggled into his chest, breathing in his familiar warm scent. “Not to do the whole ‘what are we’ thing, but—“

“I’m yours if you’ll have me,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “It’ll be hard to figure out, sure, but I’m committed to this.”

“Well, then so am I,” you said, tilting your head up to look at him—his flushed cheeks, his hooded eyes, that satisfied smile. 

All of it was beautiful and addictive and ruinous. 

And the best part was that it was all because of you.

[xxchumanixx]

No problem ma dear. I'm sure you're going to make the absolute freaking best our of my request. Happy to hear that you are going to make a story out of it 🥹♥️

Restoring faith

Tim Bradford x reader

Warnings/Tag: fluff, language, comfort, angst, hurt, readers ex was abusive, grumpy Tim (yes, he's a warning), not entirely proof read yet Word count: 5.933 Authors note: Hello love, thank you so much for the request! I had so much fun writing it, and again, I'm sorry for losing the original request (but, tell you what, I managed to get the request at least copied and pasted, because I hadn't closed tumblr on my laptop yesterday and it was still there (even though it was just a bug, but hey, i managed to copy the text)) Fun fact: My daughters name is gonna be Hailee one day (If I ever get a daughter). Also, I might have messed a little with the timeline (in terms of Celina appearing a little earlier) Here's the original request:

"I currently can't stop thinking about Tim Bradford so I came up with this grumpy Tim request, cause I need grumpy Tim becoming the protective sweet guy he is. Tim has a new neighbor, a single mom. Afraid that now his peace and quiet in his home will be over, he's convinced of the contrary when reader's little girl wrapped the grumpy neighbor around her little fingers.  

Reader wants to start a new life away from her abusive ex and so she moved states with her daughter. Tim instantly melts when the cute little girl gets bubbly when she sees Tim. 

In the meantime Tim has a suspicion why reader is a single mom, she flinches when there're loud noises or when he gets too close to her. One night she wanted to do something in her apartment and fell from the ladder hitting her head hard. Her daughter runs to Tim telling him her mommy is hurt. Reader has a bad concussion and at first doesn't recognize Tim thinking it's her ex hurting her. From that moment her secret is revealed and Tim swears to himself he's going to protect these two at all costs. Perhaps we can also see Tim nursing her back to health with her concussion 😱🙃🥹 "

Now, without further ado, enjoy!

"Hailee?"  

Rolling your eyes you sat the box in your hands down. Where did she go now? "Hailee?" you repeated louder, leaving the kitchen to go look for your daughter.  

Leaving the house you saw her at your car, with a stranger.  

"Hailee!" you called, as you suddenly panicked, running towards her. The stranger took a step back, holding up his hands.  

Stopping in front of your daughter, shielding her as you softly pushed her behind you, you looked up at the stranger.  

"Can I help you?" you asked, heart racing. 

Did he find you? But he was in jail - he shouldn't even know you moved states.  

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." the man returned, smiling slightly. "My name's Tim Bradford, I'm your neighbor. I saw that your daughter was alone and I just wanted to make sure she's okay."  

Eyes widening, you sighed in relief.  

"Sorry, I just-" you started, but cut yourself off. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N. We just moved here. Nice to meet you." He nodded, eyes wandering over the many boxes in and around your car. 

"Do you need help?" he asked, motioning at the boxes. "Oh..." you made, swallowing. "Yeah, some help would be nice, thank you." He smiled, a smile that caused you to return it.  

"Okay..." he mumbled, randomly picking one of the boxes and starting to walk towards the house. Picking up a box as well, you let Hailee walk in front of you, following Tim.  

He stood in the entryway, looking around. "Where do these boxes go?" he wanted to know. Reading what was written on the side of the box you motioned for the living room.  

He nodded, putting the box down.  

His eyes wandered over the numerous kids toys already scattered on the floor, cocking a brow.  

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you put your box down beside his.  

"She loves these toys, she's five." you explained, licking your bottom lip. He didn't seem too convinced of a five-year-old in his neighborhood, but you wouldn't let him judge early. 

Motioning outside, he walked out, picking up another box.  

"Hailee, honey, would you please stay here and wait for mommy and Tim to get the boxes inside?" you asked of her, motioning at the toys. She nodded, sitting down on a blanket and grabbing a few of her barbies.  

Nodding to yourself you walked outside, as Tim met you halfway, box in hand. 

It took an hour for you to bring all of the boxes inside, but when you were done you sighed in relief.  

"Thank you so much." you thanked Tim, handing him a beer. "I wish I could invite you for a dinner as a thanks, but my kitchen isn't ready for cooking yet, so more than takeout isn't possible for tonight." 

"Oh, don't worry, me and my girlfriend are going out for dinner tonight." he responded, smiling as he sipped his beer. 

His girlfriend. 

Damn, you should have known that a man this handsome would be in a relationship. 

Keeping a straight face, you nodded. "Well then, even better." you told him, smiling.  

When he was gone you and your daughter decided what to eat. "What about chicken nuggets?" you asked, watching her, as she drew flowers. 

"And fries?" Her eyes lit up, as she looked at you, hopefully. "Fries and nuggets for the lady it is, then." you told her, smiling. She cheered, eating a blueberry, before she continued drawing. 

_____ 

It had been a month, since you and Hailee moved into the house.  

The boxes had been unpacked and the house looked finished. You had seen Tim a few times, had talked to him and met his girlfriend Ashley.  

She seemed nice. 

Your new job had already begun, and Hailee was at the kindergarden. It seemed all good, letting you breathe more freely, since you moved states.  

Tim seemed hesitant whenever Hailee was near, like he was afraid she could disturb his peace, the quietness that convinced you to move to this street. 

You had just been grocery shopping, Hailee was playing with a stuffed animal you had bought for her, whilst you were unloading the car, when Tims truck parked in his driveway. 

He got out, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, as he saw you. Coming over, he greeted you. "Hey." you gave back, heart pumping a little faster. 

Even though he was in a relationship, that didn't mean that he wasn't handsome.  

His eyes briefly wandered to Hailee, who was playing with the stuffed animal, making sounds to emphasize it. He bit his cheek, not seeming convinced that she wouldn't start shouting any second. 

Clearing your throat you averted his attention back to you. "How is Ashley?" you asked, smiling. He stiffened, biting his cheek, but he tried to cover it up. "Oh, she's doing great." he lied, wearing a tight lipped smile. 

Biting your lip, you nodded. You weren't bad at profiling people, but you could've still been wrong about it. 

"How was work?" he wanted to know, adjusting his backpack. "Oh, it was great." you told him, nodding with a smile. "The coworkers are very nice, I think I'll stay."  

He nodded, and you made a little more smalltalk, before you realized that you had groceries that needed to be cooled.  

Apologizing, you said goodbye, before you and Hailee went inside. You looked back over your shoulder, seeing as he did the same. He waved goodbye, and you did the same, before closing the door. 

"Mommy?" Hailee asked, sitting down on the couch as you began to unpack the paperbags. You hummed, signalling for her to continue. "Why did Tim lie to you?"  

Eyes widening, you halted for a second, before you continued to pack the grocieries into the fridge. 

"What makes you think that he lied?" you wanted to know, surprised about her even noticing. "He..." she paused, searching for the right words. "He seemed like he didn't like your question."  

Huffing to yourself, you smiled. She clearly came after you. 

"You know, honey, sometimes people don't like to talk about their private life." you told her, continuing to unpack some fruits. "If he doesn't want to talk about breaking up with his girlfriend, than that's okay." 

"But mommy, you told me not to lie." she gave back, brows furrowing. "Lying is bad."  

You nodded, walking over to her with a small juice box with a tiger on it. Handing her the box, you sat down beside her. "That's right." you agreed, as she took the box and opened it. "But some things are private. And maybe he's just too hurt right now, to talk about it." 

Drinking the juice, she nodded. "Okay." she spoke, after putting the juice down on the coffee table. "Can I have some cookies?" Laughing, you shook your head. "No, honey, we'll cook now - cookies later." 

_____ 

The next day was your day off. Hailee stayed at home as well, so you could spend some time with her.  

You were baking, Hailee helping with the batter. Going through the list of things you needed for the batter, you noticed, that you didn't buy milk. 

"Damn it." you mumbled, biting your lip. "Dam-" Hailee wanted to mimick you, but you shut her up, your hand over her mouth as you sent her a pointed look. 

She grinned, causing you to shake your head, a smile on your lips, as you let go of her.  

You had real luck with her. She was a calm kid, one that wasn't stubborn or petulant - only in the right ways.  

Not like her father. 

Contemplating where to get milk from without driving to the next store, you bit your lip. 

You could go to Tim and ask him. 

"Hailee, what do you say if we ask Tim for some milk?" you asked your daughter, whose eyes lit up at the mention of him. She seemed to have grown a liking to him. 

"Okay." you mumbled, helping her down from the kitchen aisle. She ran forward and to the front door, before you stopped her. "Do you really want to go to Tim with your Frozen slippers?" you asked, cocking a brow. 

She blushed, giggling. "Do you think he likes Elsa, too?" she wanted to know, eyes sparkling. Chuckling, you kneeled down to help her into her boots.  

"I bet he loves her, just as much as you do." you told her, smiling. Giggling again, she slipped into the boots, the little lights on them flashing in multiple colors.  

Opening the door, she ran foward. Luckily Tims house was next to yours, so you didn't have to worry about her running out on the street.  

Picking her up, you helped her to ring the doorbell. It took a few seconds, in which you sat her down again, for Tim to open the door. 

His eyes widened slightly, as he saw you. "Hi." you greeted, blushing a little. "Hey." he returned, eyes narrowing. "We're sorry to interrupt, but we wanted to bake and I forgot to buy milk." you explained, sending him a crooked smile, as you wrung your hands nervously.  

"Do you happen to have some spare, that we can borrow?" His brows rose, one corner of his mouth turning upwards. "Borrow?"  

Biting your lip, you chuckled. "Yeah, with the intention to buy a new one." you explained. He huffed in amusement, before he nodded. "Sure, just give me a second." he told you, before he disappeared back into the house. 

A few seconds later, he returned, handing you the milk. You shrinked back, flinching, before you reminded yourself that he didn't want to cause you any harm. 

His mouth slightly opened, as his arm sank down a little, brows furrowing. Taking the milk from him, you breathed in deeply, trying to cover your reaction up. "Thank you." you nodded, forcing yourself to smile. "I'm gonna go grocery shopping tomorrow, then I'll get you a new one." 

He nodded as well, still a little confused from your reaction.  

When he was about to say goodbye, Hailee spoke up, holding up the new stuffed animal. "This is mr. Bubbles." she told him. You hadn't noticed her bringing it along.  

It was an elefant in the shape of a teacup. She had instantly loved it, after discovering it at the kids section.  

Tim looked at you, like he was looking for help. Motioning at your daughter with your head, you smiled a little. He looked down at her, inspecting the toy.  

"Cool." he told her, forcing himself to smile. "Looks... interesting." She giggled, not noticing his discomfort. But you did. Swallowing, your hand found her back. "Say bye to Tim." you told her. "Bye Tim!" she shouted, already running towards your front door.  

Clearing your throat, you nodded at him. "See you." He nodded in return. "Yeah, see you." 

Sighing on your way back, you swallowed.  

He clearly wasn't fond of the idea of a child next door.  

_____ 

When the pie and muffins were done, you sighed. 

Your kitchen looked like shit. 

Starting to clean up, your daughter came up to you, chewing on a muffin. "Do you think Tim would like some muffins?" she wanted to know, batting her lashes. 

Licking your lip, you knew exactly what she tried to do.  

But the amount of muffins you had baked, convinced you to say yes - right after her hopeful eyes. 

Nodding, you started to pack some muffins into a box. "I bet he'll like a few muffins." you agreed, smiling encouragingly down at her. She jumped in excitement, waiting for you to put the muffins into the box. 

"Do you want to give him the muffins?" you asked your daughter. She nodded, smiling brightly, as you handed her the box. 

Humming to herself she walked to the front door, slipping into her boots, as she patiently waited for you to follow. 

When you were both ready, you left the house, walking over to Tims. Ringing the doorbell, you waited for him. When he opened the door, Hailee was the first to speak.  

"Hi Tim, I have muffins for you!" 

His brows rose, mouth agape. Swallowing, he licked his lips, crouching down to get a better look at the box in Hailee's hands.  

You were surprised that he did so, after he was so hesitant towards her before.  

"We want to cheer you up!" Hailee told him, smiling brightly. Tims gaze wandered towards you, brow cocked in a silent question, but Hailee was faster than you. 

"Mommy said that you broke up with your girlfriend." she explained, causing his eyes to harden. Your mouth opened, but you kept silent. "When I'm said, I ask my mommy to have some sweets. So I thought, you could use some as well, so you wouldn't be sad anymore."  

He nodded slowly, biting on the inside of his lip. 

God damn it. Kids and their fast mouths. 

"Thank you, Hailee." he told her, smiling at her, as he took the box from her hands. Then he stood back up, gaze fixed on you. "Listen-" you started, but he cut you off. "Thanks for the muffins." he told you, before he went back inside his house, closing the door. 

"Mommy?" Hailee tried to gather your attention, tugging at your sleeve as your gaze was glued to the door. "Did I do something wrong?"  

Looking at your daughter, you knelt in front of her. "No, honey, you did nothing wrong." you told her, stroking her arms lovingly. "He just didn't know, that we know about him breaking up with Ashley."  

Her eyes went wide. "I'm so sorry!" she apologized, eyes watering. Hugging her, you stroked her back. "Don't be, precious. It's all fine." "Is he angry with me now?" she cried, causing your heart to ache.  

The last time she said these words, her father had yelled at her for letting a cup of water drop to the floor.  

It was the last time she had seen him. 

Sighing to yourself, you picked her up. One of the curtains moved, as you walked past them and back to your house.  

Did he see Hailee cry?  

Shaking your head, you stepped inside, closing the door, before setting Hailee down to remove her shoes.  

"Are you angry at me?"  

Your brows furrowed at her question, as you shook your head. "No!" you told her, brushing some hair out of her face. "I'm not angry at you, honey. You did nothing wrong. But, next time, I would be grateful if something like this stays between us, okay? I'm not angry, Hailee."  

She looked up at you with big, round eyes, sticking out her pinky towards you. "Pinky promise?" she asked and you nodded, as your pinky curled around hers. "Pinky promise." 

_____ 

A few days later, the box you had brought Tim sat on your porch, cleaned and emptied.  

Hailee was at the kindergarden, as you came home. Your work ended earliy, so you had some spare time until you had to pick her up. 

Taking the box, you wanted to open the door, as someone cleared their throat behind you. You flinched, instantly trying to shield yourself, as you turned around. 

It was Tim. 

Letting go of the breath you had held in, your heart hammered in your chest.  

"Hi." you said out of breath, as his brows furrowed in worry. "Are you okay?" he asked, licking his bottom lip. Nodding, you adjusted your bag, as it slid down your shoulder.  

"Everythings fine." you assured him, swallowing. "Just easy to startle, thats all." He nodded, before he cleared his throat. "Listen, I appreciate the muffins - I really do -, but my love life is something I'd like to keep private." he explained. "Yes, Ashley and I broke up, but thats my business, not yours." 

Your cheeks reddened, growing hot.  

"I'm sorry." you apologized, fumbling with the strap of your bag. "My daughter - she was just curious, she thought that you might have not been honest when I asked about Ashley. I know that its not my business, really. I just told her that you might not want to talk about it, and that she shouldn't worry about it. I didn't think much of it."  

He took a deep breath and you flinched again - you just couldn't help it.  

"Is really everything okay?" he asked. You knew it wasn't what he initially wanted to say. "Mhm." you made, biting your lip. He didn't seem convinced, but he didn't press further. 

"Its okay, I just wanted to make clear that its my business." he spoke instead, sending you a crooked smile that was surely meant to lighten the mood a little.  

Nodding, you agreed. "Yeah, I totally get that. Won't happen again." He nodded as well, a light smile gracing his lips. "Okay, thanks for the muffins again." he said, taking a few steps backwards. "They were great." With that he turned, walking to his truck. 

Only then did you notice the backpack resting on his back, indicating that he was off to work. You didn't know what he worked as, but it seemed to be in shifts. 

Getting inside, you breathed in deeply. 

He seemed reserved, but he was nice enough.  

_____ 

A week later, you and Hailee were at a BBQ hosted by one of your neighbors. You couldn't help but look out for Tim, waiting for him to appear.  

The atmosphere was nice, the people were all friendly and open. Hailee was playing with a few kids around her age, as you were sipping some coke.  

The food was almost ready and you slowly lost hope that he'd still come. 

The fire crackled, heating up, as it suddenly banged, something inside it most likely having caused a reaction. 

You flinched, shrinking together almost unnoticably, as you frantically looked for Hailee. Finding her, still playing chase with the other kids, you breathed a sigh of relief, slowly calming down. 

But, as one of your neighbors - Jeff - pushed another - Henry -, they started to fight. Walking over to Hailee, taking her by the hand, you made sure to be out of harms way, as the men punched at each other. 

When no one was able to stop them, Monica, the wife of Henry, called the police. 

It took them only a few minutes, in which Henry knocked Jeff out, to arrive. When they entered the garden, you couldn't believe, who it was. 

Tim. 

"Mommy!" Hailee whisper-yelled. "Its Tim!" You nodded, somehow flooded with relief. He was a cop. He was one of the safest neighbors you could have. 

Tim and the other officer, a young woman, took a few statements, as you others waited. When they were done, Hailee let go of your hand and before you could have stopped her, she was on her way towards Tim. 

You followed her, sighing. 

"Hi Tim!" she greeted him, smiling up at him. He blinked a few times in confusion, before he smiled, kneeling down in front of her. "Hey Hailee." he greeted her, before his eyes landed on you.  

"Hi, sorry for that." you apologized, blushing. "I couldn't stop her. I think she's excited that you're a cop." He smiled, huffing quietly. "Don't worry." he told you, as you greeted the other officer - officer Chen.  

"It was all fine, until that douchebag-" you cut yourself off, as you squinted your eyes. "Until Jeff pushed Henry." you corrected yourself, sending Hailee a warning look not to repeat what you accidentally said. 

"Don't worry, we have them under control now." officer Chen told you, smiling slightly at Hailee, who seemed far more excited to see a cop, than some others would have been. 

You nodded, thanking her, as Hailee started to ask Tim questions about the various things clipped to his belt. He chuckled at her curiosity, explaining what the things were. 

You huffed to yourself, a little confused.  

She seemed to have him wrapped around her little fingers, after all.

That would surely get interesting. 

_____ 

A few days had passed since the BBQ, leaving you to think more and more about Seargent Bradford.  

You had learned that he was a Sergeant, working for the LAPD. That explained the shifts.  

You were currently trying to fix a light that bothered you for quite some time now. Sometimes, it would work, sometimes not. 

Even though you were afraid of heights, you had climbed up the old ladder that you found in your basement, having your fingers crossed that it wouldn't shatter under your weight. 

Hailee was sat in the living room, playing with her dolls, as you tried to reach the lightbulb. Taking a shaky breath, you stretched a little further, as you suddenly slipped. 

Losing your balance you fell, your head hitting the ground rather hard. Your sight blurred, as you heard your daughter call out for you.  

She seemed to panic and you wanted to tell her that you would be alright, but you couldn't, as suddenly, the lights went out. 

"Tim!" Hailee called, crying as she frantically kocked on his door. "Tim!"  

The door opened, revealing Tim who looked down at the little girl with worry in his eyes, it only intensifying at her tear stained face. 

"Whats wrong?" he wanted to know, crouching down. "M-My mommy!" she called out, sobbing. "Its my mommy!"  

As fast as he could he picked her up, running towards the open front door of her house. Cursing at himself for not bringing his weapon, he slowly inched forward and into the living room, where her mother lay unconcious.  

"Fuck!" he breathed out, setting Hailee down and calling an ambulance, before he approached her mother. 

"Y/N?" you heard someone call out your name, luring you back into conciousness. "Y/N!"  

Your eyes slowly opened, trying to make sense of the blur you saw. "Hey, what happened?" the person who called out your name wanted to know. Its silhouette came into view and your eyes widened, as you sat up and inched backwards. 

"No, no, no, no!" you breathed out, as the person followed you, before your back hit the wall. "No!" you shouted, as he wanted to grab you, shielding your face with your hands. 

"Why are you here?" you wanted to know, as tears made their way out of your eyes. "You should be in jail, Robert!"  

He halted, you could sense it. "What?" he said, sounding confused. "Who's Robert?" He must have been messing with you, after all you were sure it was him you were seeing. 

"Go away!" you yelled, crying as your thoughts were with your daughter. "Where is Hailee?" "She's here, sitting on the couch." he told you, crouching down in front of you, as he carefully grabbed your hands, removing them from your face.  

"It's me, Tim." he explained, as your view slowly got clearer. "What?" you breathed, searching his face for any indication that it wasn't Tim. But you found none. 

"What happened?" you wanted to know, as you heard sirens. "Hailee came over, calling out for me." he explained, swallowing, as his gaze never left yours. "She said it's her mommy, so I grabbed her and went looking. You were unconscious. I assume you fell down the ladder?"  

Looking over at the ladder, you flinched. Your head exploded. 

"Don't move your head too much." he advised, as paramedics entered the room. "You might have a concussion." 

The paramedics asked what happened and Tim explained, saying that you were unconscious when he found you, that you had fallen off the ladder.  

They put you on a stretcher, securing your head and neck.  

"Wait," you told them, eyes widening. "What about my daughter?" The paramedics looked at each other, as Tim spoke up. "We'll drive after you to the hospital." he assured you. "Okay, thank you." 

He nodded, before you were brought to the ambulance. 

_____

Once you were checked, the doctor, Dr. Sierra, told you the results.

"You have a concussion, miss Y/L/N." she said, reading through the papers she held in hand. Tim and Hailee were at your side, your daughter sitting on your bed.

"We made a scan to see if you have other injuries and requested the data from the hospital in Ohio, which you used to visit rather often, as I see." the doctor continiued, and you swallowed.

Your cheeks got warmer, as she closed the chart.

"There were multiple traumata, broken bones and other injuries." she explained what you already knew. Glancing at Tim she sent you a silent question, but you shook your head.

"No, he's in jail." you explained quietly, fumbling with the bedsheet. The doctor nodded, seemingly relieved.

"You can go in the morning, if your condition stays good." she explained, before she bid you goodbye.

The room grew silent, the only noise being the bedsheets you fisted rather aggressively.

You sensed that Tim had questions; he wanted to know what happened and more importantly, why you were so scared of him at first.

Sighing, you contemplated where your daughter was supposed to stay the night. She couldn't sleep at the hospital, they wouldn't allow it.

Swallowing, you looked at Tim.

"Can I ask you something?" you wanted to know quietly, brushing through your daughters hair absentmindedly. "Sure." he gave back, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"You don't have to say yes of course..." you started, looking away for a split second. "But, can Hailee stay at your place tonight?" You prayed he would say yes, otherwise you didn't know where else she could stay at.

He nodded, as he bit his cheek.

"Of course." he said. "Where else should she go, when she could cuddle with Kojo?" He smiled, one that made your heart flutter despite the headache that was killing you.

"Thank you, Tim." you returned sincerely, smiling back through the pain. He nodded, before he brushed over his chin, thinking about something. You patiently waited for him, as Hailee played a game on your phone.

It wasn't the best way to keep her occupied, but right now it had to do, especially if it meant she was distracted enough to not listen to you two.

"I don't know what happened back then, but maybe you want to talk to me about it tomorrow?" he offered, sincerity in his eyes. "Or whenever you feel ready."

He was right. He deserved to know.

You nodded, flinching at the pain that shot through your head at the movement. He nodded in return, before he stood. "Hailee, what do you think about ice cream and nuggets?" he wanted to know, looking down at her.

She looked at you, unsure, but you smiled at her.

"Go with Tim, honey." you told her, hugging her. "He'll look after you tonight, whilst mommy stays at the hospital. You can trust him."

She nodded, kissing your cheek and you did the same. "I love you, buttercup." you told her, causing her to smile. "I love you too, mommy."

Tim picked her up, deciding to carry her to the car, as you handed him your keys.

"She's gonna sleep when you're at the car." you whispered, and he nodded, grinning. "I know." he mouthed back, before he said goodbye.

Your daughter waved over his shoulder at you, and you waved back, smiling at her.

_____

The next morning, Tim came with Hailee to pick you up.

Your daughter was excited, jumping into your arms after not having seen you for a couple hours. You hugged her tightly, making her giggle as you tickled her.

Tim smiled, he seemed to be in a good mood.

Not grumpy anymore.

The doctor had dismissed you earlier, right before Tim and Hailee arrived.

When you left the room, walking into the waiting area, you were greeted by two officers. "Sergeant Bradford." one of them greeted him, a man that seemed around his forties.

"Nolan." Tim returned, nodding at him, before he looked at the woman beside him. "Juarez." She nodded in return, greeting him as well, before her gaze landed on you and Hailee, eyes widening.

"Oh, is this your girlfriend?" she asked curiously, but still a little hesitant. Your mouth opened, eyes widening as well.

Why was it so hard for you to respond, suddenly?

Clearing his throat, Tim looked at you, before he looked back at officer Juarez. "No, but she's a friend." he told her. "What are you doing here?"

Officer Nolan seemed hesitant, before he answered Tims question. "We have arrested a robber, but he fell, and we just wanted to make sure, that he's okay, before we bring him in."

Tim nodded, but you were sure there was more behind the story.

He motioned towards the exit, and you nodded. "Was nice to meet you." you told the officers, before you followed Tim out of the hospital and towards his truck.

When you arrived home, you weren't sure how to thank Tim for looking after Hailee, whilst you were at the hospital. Should you invite him for dinner?

Getting out of the truck, you helped Hailee to get out as well. Your head still hurt a little, but it was already better than hours ago, thanks to the painkillers they gave you at the hospital.

"I have a few days off from work, so I can help you with a few things." Tim spoke up, when you and your daughter rounded the truck and came to a stop beside him.

Mouth agape, you looked at him in shock.

"You don't need to do that." you told him, still grateful, but he shook his head. "I want to. Your concussion isn't gone after a day, and you need to rest or otherwise it could get even worse."

Biting your lip, you nodded carefully.

"Thank you, Tim" you gave back. "I really mean it." He smiled slightly, walking towards your front door and you followed him with Hailee by your side.

"You can thank me by getting well."

_____

A few days had gone by, in which Tim had helped you with a few things. He played with Hailee, so you could take a nap or a bath, or would help to cook, so you wouldn't overstrain yourself.

He was different than before.

His grumpiness was all gone, replaced by a person as sweet as the muffins you and Hailee had baked together.

You weren't sure how he got to take these days off from work, but you were grateful for it. One time he was called to the station, because of an emergency that had occurred, but he came straight back afterwards.

You had gotten to learn a few things about him during the days you had spent together, about his past and the things he had seen in his life.

Deciding to make pizza, you made the dough with him helping you, kneading it with his big and strong hands.

Hailee had fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from playing with him. She only had fallen more for him during the last few days. She really liked him, and so did you, you had to admit.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tim asked, looking up from the dough.

You knew what he meant, still you had a lump in your throat at the thought of it. Biting your lip, you nodded. He deserved to know, if not for saving you, then for his help during the last couple days.

"I married rather young." you began, licking your lip, as you wiped your hands on a towel. "I was dumb and naive, not having seen the obvious warning signs that came with Robert."

He nodded, as his suspicions about the name you had called him, after you hit your head, were proved true.

"He was abusive." you continued, eyes watering as you bit your lip to stop the tears that threatened to spill. "Even when I was pregnant with Hailee he didn't stop. He took drugs, drank a lot. He used me as his very own punching bag, letting out his anger on me."

You breathed in deeply, leaning against the kitchen counter, as he continued to knead the dough, still listening.

"Half a year ago, he got arrested. He sold drugs, but the cops caught him. When he was finally gone, I made sure to get the divorce through as fast as possible, before we moved here. He'll be in jail for twelve years."

His brows furrowed, as he paused.

"For selling drugs?" he asked, confused. Shaking your head, you swallowed. "Homicide." you breathed, clearing your throat as your eyes filled with tears again. "After he got arrested, they found out that he had killed someone only a few days prior. He was able to make a deal."

He sighed, nodding as it made sense now.

"That's why you flinch, when there's loud noise or when someone gets too close." he concluded, setting the dough aside, wiping his hands clean on a towel.

You nodded, looking away for a split second, before you reminded yourself that you could trust him, looking back up.

"It's something I adapted after all these years with him."

You covered the dough up, so it could rise. It felt good, talking about it with him. Tim cleaned the countertop, before he put the cloth in the sink, drying his hands.

"Now you're safe." he told you, his eyes finding yours. "I promise. I'm gonna protect you and Hailee, as long as you let me." You nodded, cheeks heating up. You already felt safer than you had during the last years, all because of his presence.

“You have some flour on your cheek.” he told you, motioning towards it. You tried to remove it, but he shook his head. “Let me.” he mumbled, his thumb softly brushing over your cheek, removing the flour.

For the first time in years, you didn’t flinch at the contact. 

His thumb rested on your cheek, as his breath fanned over your face, causing your heart to race dangerously fast. Slowly, he leaned closer, your noses brushing as you did the same. 

Your lips softly made contact, his slowly moving against yours. You leaned more in his direction, deepening the kiss. His lips felt perfect, like they had been made to be kissed by yours.

His hands found their way to your hips, tugging you closer, as yours rested on his muscular chest. You knew that it was muscular, because you could feel it through the shirt he wore.

He softly guided your head back with his lips, deepening the kiss even more. His tongue brushed over your lip, asking for entrance.

You gladly granted it.

The kiss was soft, not demanding. His tongue brushed yours, fingers lightly digging into your hips.

Your hands went upwards, one finding his cheek, as the other stopped at his neck.

Only when you almost suffocated, did you break the kiss. It definitely was worth it.

He brushed a few strands of hair out of your face, his gaze finding yours. "What do you say," he started, hand resting on your cheek, sending a warmth through your body, that you hadn't felt in years. "if we go out for dinner?"

You smiled up at him, having a hard time to believe the luck you had. How could someone this perfect be interested in you?

"I'd love to go out for dinner with you, Tim." you told him, causing him to smile as well, before his lips connected with yours again.

It felt like he filled you with energy through his kisses. They caused something inside you to come alive again, only tearing apart as you suddenly heard your daughter behind you.

"Ew, mommy!"

[dumbseee]

stalker. pt.5.

masterlist.

charles leclerc x reader. / carlos sainz jr x reader.

fc: lalisa manoban.

note: listen to don’t blame me by taylor swift for this :)

trouble in paradise?

it seems like y/n l/n isn’t very faithful to her new boyfriend, carlos sainz if we believe his teammate charles leclerc who is also y/n’s ex boyfriend, #messy 👀. in case you lived under a rock, y/n and charles broke up a few months ago and only a month later she started dating sainz. these two looked in love until charles posted some weird insta stories hinting at y/n’s possible infidelity. the internet has been divided ever since that story with either #teamy/n or #teamcharles.

one thing for sure, y/n lost the support she had when she broke up with charles. we tried to get in touch with sainz but his team politely declined our calls, as for charles he only commented that his story was self explanatory and he didn’t need to add anything else. y/n on the other hand disappeared from social media since her comments sections were being jeopardised by haters.

and you, who’s team are you on?

_

landonorris just posted a story!

tagged: @.y/n @.francisca.cgomes

carlos put down his phone and got out his car, he was just in front of charles’s house and he came ready to put an end to his behaviour. he had charles’s address since they were teammates and once friends. the spaniard knocked multiple times, thinking about what he was going to do once charles opened the door, he rehearsed his lines a thousand times because he was scared that anger would take over once charles was in front of him. he just wanted to ask one question: why? why would he do that to you, when all he did during your relationship was hurting you over and over again.

"carlos. i knew i’d see you soon. how are you? my friend?" charles opened the door with a big smile which took carlos off guard but angered him even more. "your friend? do you even know the meaning of that word?" he answered through gritted teeth, taking a step inside charles’s apartment. "oh because you do? mister steal your girl?" charles’s attitude made carlos want to strangle him on the spot. "you really want to play that game? you cheated on her, coño how dare you act like you’re the victim here, hm?" carlos slightly pushed charles which made him take a step back.

"don’t fucking touch me." carlos knew that if he let his feelings get the best of him, this could end very badly, and he couldn’t do this to you. "you say that you still love her, that cheating on her was a mistake, but what about what you’re doing right now? everyone think that she cheated on me with you! that’s not love charles, it’s obsession." carlos added, trying to resonate the monegasque. "you don’t understand the bond we have, sainz. she’s just messing with you to get to me." charles smiled. "leave her alone, leclerc. don’t make me repeat myself." the monegasque took a step towards his teammate and grabbed him by his collar. "or what, sainz? what are you going to do, hm? because i’m never going to stop, y/n is mine and mine only." the spaniard couldn’t recognise the man in front of him, the one he once called his ‘hermanito’, the one he loved to piss off during training and the one he loved to film challenges for the fans. the man in front of him wasn’t the charles he knew. that’s why carlos didn’t feel bad for what he was about to do.

"i came here to see if i could resonate you, it was the last chance i was going to give you. but you made me realise that the charles i knew was long gone. what you’re feeling right now is not love, i’m not saying that you never loved y/n, it’s not my place to judge that, but right now you’re nothing but a stalker, charles." carlos pushed charles off him and rearranged his collar. "what i’m feeling for y/n is true love because i know that once i’ll realise that she’s happier without me, i’ll leave her alone immediately, because her happiness is more important than mine." and with that, carlos left a speechless charles behind.

later that night, carlos came back to your shared apartment, he found you asleep on the couch while your favorite tv show was playing. he smiled and took off his shoes and jacket before slowly crouching next to you. he brushed the strands of hair in front of your face and kissed your forehead. that made you open your eyes, and what you saw in front of you made you think you were dreaming. "carlos?" you asked, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. "yes, cariño, i’m home." you bit your lip and hugged him tightly while he was stroking your hair. "i’m so sorry for making you cry, i never once doubted you."

y/n just posted a story!

taglist: @ferrariloverr @incoherenciass @avengersheart @roseseraj @styles-sunflower @thievin-stealing @hiraethrhapsody @ariagonzalezsstuff @vellicora @buckybarnessweetheart @leclercloml @ru-kru @slytherheign @95lomty

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Deathless Death

Pairing: Osferth x nameless female character (third person perspective) Warnings: Religious guilt. Smut. Fingering. Slight exhibitionism. Oral (f receiving). Gratuitous Hozier references. Word count: 3.5k

Summary: When a young woman's father is killed following Skade's attack on the priests of Alton, Osferth agrees to take responsibility for her, feeling a need to protect a fellow Christian. However, the longer they travel together the deeper they have each other questioning their faith. Based on this request. Series masterlist.

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

The Lord works in mysterious ways. This is a belief that Osferth has always clung firmly to, it is the only way he can justify his existence; the result of a union between a serving girl and a deeply religious king who, so embarrassed by his extramarital indiscretion, had ensured that Osferth was enrolled as a novice monk as soon as he was old enough, and refused to ever acknowledge him as his son.

Osferth is a bastard, yet he must have a purpose, for God does not give life without intent. He feels he has found his reason for being when he crosses paths with Uhtred, a man his uncle, Leofric, had always spoken kindly of. He offers to serve Uhtred as a warrior, though he has no fighting experience. This is the divine path chosen for him, he is certain of it. He clutches the hilt of his sword as tightly as he often grips the cross that sits around his neck in times of anguish, and does his best to be brave in spite of how afraid he feels.

Reluctantly he learns the ways of ale and women, surprised when the Lord does not smite him down for his sins. He surmises that he has misinterpreted the teachings of the Holy Book; a life of piety does not have to mean an existence endured in abstinence. Though his faith in God never once falters, he grows to enjoy, and even seek out, the pleasures he’d once mistaken for temptations. They are not a means for him to stray from the light, but another outlet in which he can revere it and give thanks.

It is not until he reaches the village of Alton with Uhtred and his men that he discovers the true purpose of the journey he has embarked upon. A group of Danes with a seeress named Skade in their midst has attacked the village, killing all of its holy men.

That is where he finds her. Such a fragile looking thing, sobbing her heart out while huddled behind a vegetable cart, clutching her cross in much the same way he used to do with his.

“Don’t be afraid.” He reassures her calmly, crouching so his face is level with hers.

“Are you an angel?” She asks tearfully, her eyes wide and imploring.

Osferth cannot help but smile at that. For you I’d like to be.

With gentle persuasion, Uhtred agrees to allow Osferth to bring the girl along, provided he is responsible for her. He is all too happy to agree to that. Her mother is long dead and the attack on Alton has killed her father, she has no one else. He was meant to meet her, he feels it in his heart.

Naturally, she is fearful of the others, her only prior encounter with heathens had ended in the death of her only living relative and left her all alone in the world. She clings to Osferth, but he does not mind it. He sees a lot of himself in her, how scared he’d been when he’d first left the monastery to accompany Uhtred. But if she is anything like him, she is resilient and she will pull through this.

As the weeks pass, her face becomes less marred by fear and grief. She is beautiful, Osferth realises. He has been grateful to have someone to bow his head in prayer with, however, the way that she snuggles next to him for warmth in front of the campfire, how closely she leans back against his chest as they ride together and the proximity in which she lays her bed roll next to his no longer feel so innocent, at least not to him.

He feels ashamed for harbouring such illicit thoughts about her. Her piety makes him feel like he is the worst kind of sinner. She does not partake in ale and stays quiet when the rest of the group share lewd jokes. Where her prayers are earnest and heartfelt, his feel flimsy and disingenuous. He would renounce the Lord and worship her instead if she asked it of him. The idea makes his stones ache. When she shivers and huddles to him for warmth it occurs to him that he’d burn everything in his path if only for her to never feel cold again.

Guilt blooms heavily in his chest at the thoughts and feelings she elicits from him, especially when she looks at him, her eyes are always filled with gratitude and adoration. He has grown to crave her gaze, despite the fact that she will never view him as anything more than a protector.

When it becomes too much for him to bear, he seeks the comfort of the nearest brothel. With each thrust into the whore beneath him, he imagines her face, how those hands that fold so delicately in prayer would feel clinging to his shoulders, how soft and supple her flesh would be against the wiry hardness of his own. When he reaches his peak, picturing her, he comes harder than he ever has before in his life. It feels like he has died and approached the very gates of Heaven.

If that is how it feels merely to think about her, he wonders what it would be like to actually be inside of her. It would surely feel holy and sacred, a pleasure not meant for mere mortals. For the second time that night he craves her, and so he seeks out another woman offering her services in the pleasure house.

He pays them well, and he is not unkind to them. He is convinced that that is why they fight over him the next day. He is mortified, especially when he sees that she is watching. She will think him godless, sinful. He hopes that the Lord is merciful and does not intend for her to leave him. He sends a silent prayer of thanks when she remains by his side in the days that follow.

It is not until Uhtred, Sihtric and Finan pay a visit to Alfred, and leave Osferth and her back at camp that he realises they’ve never truly been alone together. He shifts uncomfortably on the log he sits upon, glancing up from the flames of the fire every so often at her, unsure of what to say. She eyes him curiously the entire time, the warmth from the fire and the sunny afternoon meaning she does not snuggle to him as she usually would. Secretly he is disappointed.

“Do you still believe in God?” She asks quietly.

Her gaze is timid and as Osferth turns to meet her eye, she looks to her lap as though ashamed to have asked.

“Of course I do, my lady,” He replies softly, smiling at her. He wants more than anything for her to look at him again, there is something reverent in the way she regards him that makes his chest swell and his cock twitch. He could die happily with a single glance his way from her. “My faith has never waivered.”

“You are not as devout as the people from back home.” Her fingers pinch and stroke over the fabric of her skirt as she says this, not looking up at him as he sits across from her.

“I used to be,” He admits with a slight shrug, wondering if she thinks less of him for his perceived lack of faith. “I suppose travelling with Uhtred has taught me that faith does not mean deprivation. The Lord made life for living.”

She nods, her voice barely above a whisper, as her eyes flicker to his. “Is that why you visit brothels, and why those women fight over you?”

He feels his cheeks heat up as she asks this, and suddenly it’s his turn to look away, embarrassed. He takes a moment to consider his reply, not wanting to sully her innocence with vulgarity, or say anything that might frighten her. “I was celibate when I was a monk…” He begins awkwardly. “I’m not anymore. Truthfully, partaking in the pleasures of the flesh feels like the closest experience to meeting God without dying.”

He knows he has turned pink all the way to the tips of his ears by the time he finishes speaking, he cannot bear to look at her for fear of what he might see in her eyes. She must think he is utterly depraved.

The moment of silence between them hangs thick and uncomfortable before she finally breaks it. “If that is why you are fought over…then I am eager to find out for myself.”

His head snaps up, his eyes wide, stunned and unsure of if he has heard correctly, it seems too forward a statement for such a pious little thing like her. However, her stare is steady and unwavering as it meets his, causing his breath to hitch. He hadn’t misheard her and she meant every word.

The cracking of a twig causes them to finally look away from each other, as they turn to see the others returning. He has never been displeased to see any of them before, but can’t help but wish they’d left it a little longer to come back.

Her words play on a loop in Osferth’s thoughts. I am eager to find out for myself. He frantically strokes himself to release that night, once more plagued by visions of her, the silkiness of her hair, her scent, the dulcet tone of her giggle. There is no sweeter innocence in his mind than the gentle sin that he shares with her.

There is a storm the following evening. Though they are camped beneath a thatch of trees, protected from the worst of the downpour, it does little to block out the boom of the thunder and the crackle of lightning. She whimpers at every crash, clearly frightened, and Osferth’s heart aches for her. He’d do anything to make sure the expression of fear and sadness she wore for the first few weeks they traveled together never returns.

He pulls her tight to him, wrapping the furs around them both as they sit around the fire with the others. They don’t bat an eye at the familiarity between the two, understanding of the fact that she finds comfort in a fellow Christian’s presence and that Osferth is simply offering kindness to someone in need of it.

She melts into his embrace and he allows his hands to wander over her beneath the furs, tracing the curves of her through her dress. He has never dared to touch her like this before and she looks up at him questioningly, though makes no move to stop him.

Emboldened by her silent consent, he strokes her hair with his free hand, while allowing the other to push up her skirt. She gasps at this and buries her face in his chest. He holds her tighter while Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric continue their conversation, all assuming she is just startled by the storm that rages above them.

Her inner thighs are velvety smooth as his fingertips trace over the flesh of them. Not even angel’s wings feel as divine as this, he thinks. As the pads of his digits make contact with the gusset of her smallclothes he draws in a shaky inhale at finding that it is damp with her arousal. It darkens the desire within him to have confirmation that she is just as affected by him as he is by her, and he pushes her underclothes to the side, stroking through the slickness of her folds.

She shudders against him, her breathing growing heavier and he quietly shushes her, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. He looks up to see Finan give him a sympathetic smile, clearly assuming Osferth is comforting her, before he is distracted by Uhtred swatting him softly with the back of his hand in order to gain back his attention.

Osferth looks back down at her, she is peeking up at him from where her head rests against his chest and in the flicker of the firelight he can see that her pupils are wide with lust. It is a look he has seen on the faces of many of the women within the pleasure houses he’s visited over the years. To see it burning bright within the eyes of someone so pure is enough to drive him to madness with the desire it awakens within him.

Shielded from view beneath the furs, he circles her pearl with precision, silently delighting in the way she clutches at his robes and bucks slightly up at his hand. He feels she’s growing close when her body tenses against his and she stares up at him, worry evident in how her brows pinch together. Poor thing has never peaked before.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He murmurs, coaxing her to let go.

He cradles her head to his chest as she trembles and gasps against him, before finally going limp. Osferth withdraws his hand, allowing her to slump sleepily against him, smiling softly down at her as her eyes drift closed.

He knows in that moment that she will be both his salvation and his damnation, and he welcomes both with open arms.

It is another week before they are left alone together, and life carries on as normal. They do not speak of what happened beneath the furs on the night of the storm, despite the fact that it’s all Osferth can think about.

The others head away from camp one evening to scout the locations of a possible attack from the Danes. It is too dangerous for her to come along, so Osferth remains behind so she is not left alone. This time she seats herself next to him, and he feels his mouth run dry, heart hammering in his chest as he struggles to think of what to say to her.

He startles when she places her hand on his. “You are right,” She says with a shy smile. “It felt…like something divine…when you touched me.”

Osferth swallows thickly. “You liked it?” He asks, already knowing the answer, but desperate to hear her say it.

She nods, chewing her lip nervously. “I did. Does that make me a sinner?”

His eyes widen in mild horror that she could ever consider herself such. “No, that is something you could never be.”

“I am not repentant though,” She muses, her eyes slowly meeting his. “I have thought of nothing else.”

“That is only natural.” He tells her, suddenly aware of how close their faces are, noses almost brushing. His gaze flits to her lips momentarily. Osferth has never kissed a woman before, though he has fucked plenty; the ones he exchanges coin with do not allow such intimate gestures. He desperately wants to kiss her though.

He is surprised by her boldness when she leans in first. It is a quick peck to his lips, which she rapidly withdraws from, looking sheepish. He cups her cheek, coaxing her back and presses his mouth to hers with more pressure. She softens against the movement and for a moment it feels as though time has stopped for Osferth. There is only her. It is a kiss riddled with youthful inexperience and yet he does not think there has ever been anything better.

“Will you…” She mutters against his lips, clearly uneasy with attempting to ask for what she wants.

“Touch you?” He finishes for her.

“Yes,” She whispers, “I want to feel…” She places a hand over her face, giggling. “I have never laid with a man before. I do not know what to ask for.”

“It’s okay.” He reassures her. “I understand.” Osferth coaxes her to sit on his lap as she had the night of the storm, only this time there are no furs to cover them, and he rucks her skirt up around her hips, rather than slipping his hand beneath it.

“Take these off for me.” He says, plucking at her smallclothes.

She does as he instructs and he pulls her tight against him, her back flush with his chest as his arm snakes around her waist, dipping his hand between her legs. She is wet already and he cannot help the groan that escapes him as his fingers make contact with her core.

He circles her bud slowly and she clamps her mouth shut, cutting off the mewl that threatens to spill forth.

“You don’t have to be quiet this time.” He tells her, as she turns her face into his neck, her breath coming in hot puffs against his skin.

Tentatively he dips a finger into her entrance, conscious of the fact that she has never had anything inside of her before - the thought that he is the first makes him swell painfully hard against her rear as it presses back into his lap. Her grip on his digit as he inserts it is vice-like and he wonders how she’d feel squeezing around the length of him, if she ever allows him to take things that far.

He sets a steady rhythm of dragging his finger against a rough patch inside of her that causes sounds that are prettier than any of the songs he’s heard at æfensang to spill forth from her, while circling her pearl with his thumb.

She squirms against him, her arm reaching above and behind her to wrap around his neck, her fingers scrabble desperately at the back of his robes. Her jaw is slack, her eyes glassy and Osferth believes that if the Heavens could speak then her wanton cries of pleasure would be their mouthpiece.

She falls apart with a violent shudder, clenching ceaselessly around his finger and he withdraws it slowly as she begins to calm, continuing to hold her close. Though he is pleased to have brought her to peak, he feels disappointed that the moment is over so soon. He wants, needs, longer to enjoy her.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispers to her, pressing his face to her hair. “Will you allow me to taste you?”

“Taste me?” She asks, confusion etched across her pretty features. “I do not know what you mean.”

“I will show you.” He tells her, ushering her off of him and laying down. “Come here.”

There is no question in Osferth’s mind that he would ever allow her to lay upon the ground, she is too good for that. He will gladly let her sit atop him so that she never has to experience that indignity or discomfort.

He guides her to straddle him, pushing her upwards towards his face, but she falters.

“Osferth, I’ll crush you!” She protests, hovering above him.

“You won’t, my lady.” He tells her with a soft chuckle, tugging insistently at her thighs.

She relents, hovering over his face. “What are you going to…oh!”

He cuts her off, gripping her outer thighs and runs the flat of his tongue against her centre. He can taste the remnants of her previous climax and hums at the sensation. She is sweeter than honeyed wine, an essence so pure it must be holy.

Tugging her flush against his face he laps at her like a man starved, sucking harshly against her pearl, before licking hungrily through the slick that gathers as she whines and writhes above him. If there is a Heaven then he has found it between her thighs and never wants to leave.

He strains painfully against his breeches beneath his robes as she begins to lose control, grinding against each flick of his tongue. He knows she will not last long, already sensitive from his earlier attention and so he savours each moment; her taste, her scent, the feel of her against his mouth and how she moves against him. She is a vision of beauty beyond comprehension as she sits astride him, thread thrown back, moans of ecstasy offered up to the night sky.

She was created in the image of all things good and pure, and his journey so far has led him to her; she is made for him, of this he is certain as she reaches the apex of her pleasure. He swallows down her release like it’s communion wine. In her gratification he is cleansed, reborn.

Osferth lays her down carefully on her bed roll afterwards, covering her body with his own. She appears almost drunk as she gazes up at him, eyes heavy lidded with a soft smile upon her lips.

“My sweet girl,” He coos to her, softly stroking her face. “Can you take more? Will you let me inside?”

As she opens her mouth to answer, the raucous laughter of Finan can be heard in the near distance. The group is returning.

Osferth moves quickly away from her, laying down on his own sleeping mat, watching her as her eyes flutter closed. He hopes she will dream of him. He hopes they will have further opportunities to explore each other. The Lord works in mysterious ways, and she is the most precious mystery he has yet to encounter.

[mayullla]

Title: Little Sunshine! (Part 2)

Characters: Mainly Akaza with Douma (/Doma) at the end! (Demon Slayer)

Summary: You were taken into the Paradise Faith cult with Kotoha (Inosuke's mother.) And Douma became rather fond of you like he did with Kotoha. When Kotoha ran away, she had no choice but to leave you behind as Douma hid the truth away from you. After becoming a demon you slept for a year and finally woke up again.

Warnings/tags: Platonic yandere, fem!child!reader, reader recently got turned into a demon and just woke up

Note: Part 1 is here!

Akaza didn't know when or why he started to become so attached to you. When he was forced to come to Douma's cult to tell that damn demon some news about the demon slayers, he wanted to keep the time there at the minimum.

That was where he met you.

You were alone in the middle of the garden, looking everywhere, confused and tired. He thought you were a human child at first but had to take a second glance when he realized that you were a demon.

He wondered if it was a joke, a demon art of some demon that could turn into a kid. Yet when he saw your eyes, it was clear that you were not a trap made by some weak demon. You looked at him with no fear but with curiosity and wonder. An innocence that was not supposed to be in a demon yet there...

You took a step towards him when your leg suddenly lost energy and started to fall. You thought you would hit the floor, face first into the dirt, but that never happened when the collar of your sleeping robe was grabbed by the mysterious man who was once on top of the wall.

Looking up at him, you saw the man confused face, surprised at his own actions. "Thank you, mister!" You said, returning to looking down to the floor, your feet not quite reaching as you made a kicking motion.

He let you down after a pause, but before Akaza could leave, you started asking him questions. Asking if he knew where Douma was? "How do you know that guy?" Akaza asked curiously at you. You pouted at him as he didn't answer your questions. "I live here! Douma-sama had let me stay!" You told him flapping your shoulders' sleeves.

Somehow, everything clicked in an instant when he realized who you were. He suddenly remembered that long ago, Douma had asked Muzan if he could turn a small kid into a demon a year or two ago.

You were probably the child that he had turned into a demon.

Akaza snapped back into reality when he felt his pants being tugged, looking down to see you holding him, wondering why he wasn't saying anything.

"Mister, are you okay?" You asked curiously. Giving you a grunt, you took it as a sign that he was okay and smiled at him. Watching that smile, it was strange if not weird almost to see it in a demon. Most demons have malicious intent, as most have killed or done things that were morally wrong, even if they haven't by now the smell of blood should linger on their skin. Demons can't eat food anymore to survive.

They needed blood.

Yet here you were. He barely could smell any of it from you. He wondered if this was the first time this ever happened. Why were you even here, Akaza thought to himself as he unconsciously patted your head.

When you giggled, the innocent sounds made him uneasy.

"Mister, play with me!" You called out to him, raising your arms. "Up! Up!" You told him. Akaza blinked again in surprise when he saw you asking him such a thing. Never in his life after becoming a demon did someone ask him to play like this. Most human kids run away either because they already know that he was a demon or they witness him kill someone.

However, you refuse to let your hands down and continue to stare at him. He wondered if you couldn't feel it at all, the difference in rank between him and you. Most demons can't even look at him in the eyes. Yet it seems that you didn't care as you approached him again one step and then suddenly lost strength again, staggering as you thought that you would fall again.

Akaza caught you... again. Why did he do that??

Bring you up to eye level, holding you by the collar Akaza examined you as if you were some foreign alien. You looked at him again and smiled as he wondered why you are so weird?!

Reaching out to him again, you motioned that you want to get on his shoulders.

"... Fine... Just this once." Following your instructions hesitantly as he placed you on his shoulders, holding your legs as you held on his hair. You giggled as you started pointing him in directions to head to, "Go there, Mister! Go there!"

It was so awkward for him as he followed your childish demands, wondering why he was even listening to them. Walking over to trees, you touched the branches that were far too high for you to reach before and beamed at him with self-pride. "I am so tall!" You laughed.

The more the two of you played under the moonlight, the more relaxed Akaza started to become. When was the last time he played like this when he was relaxed with almost no care in the world? He smiled as you showed off to him that you were taller than him when both of you knew that he was carrying you which made you tall.

And Akaza... maybe in a way, wanted to show his powers to you. He thought it would be a fun idea really.

You gasped in surprise when he jumped, the wind on your hair, as you guys reach so high over 3-story buildings up. This was your first time seeing up so high. You shouted in awe and excitement as the both of you landed on the roof of a building. You raved on and on about how cool that was and that Akaza was amazing, with so much respect in your eyes begging him to do it again.

You don't know how long you played with Akaza, jumping higher and higher up in the sky, and you looked at the world around you under the night sky. You didn't know when you fell asleep again, a smile on your lips hugging Akaza's neck as he held you in his arms.

Akaza looked at you in wonder, wondering why you were a demon yet so amazed by what Akaza thought was normal as a demon.

But right now wasn't the time.

"You can show yourself now." Akaza didn't turn around to face Douma. He knew for a long time when the guy showed up but would rather focus on you to really care for the man.

"Ah, Akaza-donno, thank you for taking care of her. She has been sleeping for a while now and must have been so confused to wake alone like this. It is such a shame that I wasn't by her side." Douma walked towards you, his eyes on your hair, your face hidden by Akaza's neck softly snoring away, unable to notice the two demons looking at you.

"She didn't notice anything... she is weak." Akaza stated he could not smell, not even a scent of blood other than Muzan and Douma's in you. In his mind, it was obvious that Douma had been staving you for so long now.

"She has been sleeping for over a year now after her transformation to a demon. The poor little girl refused to drink blood when her senses were telling her to do so. I had an amazing meal prepared just for her, too, that time." Douma smiled, his eyes on you slowly turning to the one holding you. "Thank you for caring for her but I will take it over from her-"

Douma's hand that was reaching out for you suddenly exploded into bits and pieces, spraying blood and flesh. His eyes still smiling as he stared at Akaza showed no emotions of annoyance or anger.

But you could see a small vein on the side of his temple.

Akaza didn't want to give you back to Douma. He didn't want to give you to this sick bastard because Akaza knew that he would break you. And as a demon now, this pain can be forever. Rather than with Douma, Akaza knew you would be father better off with him.

He would not let you go, not like this.

Note: Hope you liked it! Have a nice day guys~

[cryinglightning64]

Hope Is Lost

Summary: You left home to get away from the normalcy, only to end up in a foreign country not knowing that the world was beginning to end.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female (sorta nun) reader

A/N: this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic bc i cant seem to find any about him in france and if you have found any tag me plss 😭 i had to resort to making my own instead. lmk if anyone is even interested in a part 2 this is basically just a teaser i promise it will have smut if 1 person interacts with this. even if nobody interacts ima still post part 2 bc wtf am i doing hoarding this in my notes app.

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The first time you saw him you had a strange feeling about him. As if you knew who he was. As he floated on top of the boat that seemed to be capsized, a measly tied rope that hardly held his body to the boat, you weren't sure what his name was, but you had a gut feeling, you knew it had to be him. The one to get you home.

You followed him, watched as the man washed up on the shore, confused, but seemingly determined.

The sisters might be right, you thought to yourself. Isabelle might be right.

You met Isabelle after the world began decaying, finding refuge at the convent. It wasn't really your first choice, staying at the convent, but in this world, beggars can't be choosers. You thought maybe immersing yourself into religion might help take your mind off everything that happened to you, everything going on outside.

Many of the nuns at the abbey didn't see you as one of them, despite you doing everything possible to fit in, as much as a fake nun could. You never were religious like the rest of them, which made everyone turn their heads away from you. Religion came easy to them, meanwhile with you, well, you hadn't given it much thought.

To this day it's still in the back of your mind, chipping away at you, the guilt of not being a big enough believer in God. How could you believe in a higher power if this is what the world has succumbed to? How could anything good let all the people you loved, cared about, die such gruesome deaths? Always a constant back and forth battle you had going on in your mind.

Sister Isabelle confided in you, telling you about Laurent, and how she needed to find someone to deliver him to Paris. The whole messiah thing seemed like such a crazy thing to wrap your head around, but you still offered your help in anyway you could. After all, you knew she would do anything for you and the rest of the nuns. That and you needed to get out of France. It was your one chance, you finally had a good enough reason to leave the abbey and try to find your way back home.

Hanging up the small poster of the Union Isabelle made, you watched as the man with the wings on his back took an abandoned boat as his shelter for the night. Hopefully he would still be there by the time you got back tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Isabelle, I am telling you, I saw him." you pleaded. You stood in the now-quiet kitchen, eyes wide, but barely visible due to the small lantern you held up.

"Je t'ai dit de ne pas y aller seul," Isabelle whispered, "I told you not to go alone out there, what if he had seen you? Or followed you?"

"He didn't, okay? Please Isabelle, I know what everyone here thinks about me and my faith, but I know it, he's the one that can help us take Laurent." you spoke quietly but urgently, as to not wake up the rest of the sisters.

"No, we know nothing of this man, maybe he is already out there walking amongst the dead, or worse, he might just be here to steal from us and kill us all. You will not go back out there, especially alone, do you understand?" Isabelle spoke, her hand coming to rub her forehead, smoothing the frown lines forming.

Sighing, you nod your head, peering down at the drawing.

"Good, now get some sleep." Isabelle turned away, heading back to sleep.

Even if deep down, you didn't believe that Laurent was the messiah, you still had the need to find out more about this man.

The next morning you came back to where you had last seen the man, hoping he was still out there.

You watched and followed as he got up and began packing his things, setting out to wander the land.

You also saw how he had got himself into trouble with the young woman and older man, seeing how he fought off the men from the Pouvoir des Vivants, as best as he could. You watched from a distance until you saw how they robbed him blind, injuring him long enough for them to get away.

You ran up to him, kneeling before watching him pass out from the blows to the head and quite probably the dehydration.

You carried, or more so, dragged his limp body to your small carriage you brought with you, hoping he wouldn't be what Isabelle said he was.

You were dreading having to explain to Isabelle why you had brought this man to the abbey after she so explicitly told you not to engage with him, let alone bring him into your homes.

"Qu'est-ce que je t'ai dit? Why did you have to bring him back here?" Isabelle raised her eyebrows at you as she held the hot poker towards his arm.

"Perdóname, no supe que hacer, I had no choice he was injured" you said and you rounded to the opposite side of the bed.

"Hold his arm down, and cover his mouth." Isabelle said as she looked at you with a glare you were sure was the maddest you have ever seen her.

He screamed into the cloth you had placed between his teeth as he writhed and she held the hot metal to his arm where the mutated undead had burned him.

His grunts and pained yelling made something inside you feel horrible, the pain he was in almost made you feel as terrible as it seemed to pain him.

His anguished face combined with the peaceful singing of the nuns down the hall swarmed your senses, until he coughed and passed out once more.

"Listen to me, I know you didn't mean for all this to happen, I get that, and I understand he was hurt. But you better pray that he will be able to deliver Laurent, it's what he needs, deserves." Isabelle said after she wrapped the man's arm, who you had come to learn his name was Daryl Dixon from the tape you found in his pack.

"I will, Isabelle. I'll make it my life's mission to get that boy to Paris." you said quietly as to not wake up Daryl, who had begun to snore softly in the bed below you.

"Very well. Now help me prepare the bath for him, he's going to need it once he wakes up." Isabelle walked away to fetch a kettle of water to fill up the bath.

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a/n: yall pls dont be mad i tried my best i know its shitty writing but i dont have anything to lose.

also im open to suggestions or if you guys wanna see a certain trope or scene play along u tell me ill do my best to make it come true on paper 😪

[sunfyresrider]

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

Widow!Alicent Hightower x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ever since Alicent Hightower’s husband died her life had changed exponentially. It’s a hard thing, knowing what to do with freedom you’ve never had. In her attempt to expand her horizons she reaches many bumps in the road she didn’t realize existed, until she met you. Tags: mentions of death, sexuality crisis, struggling to accept change, heavy anxiety, eventual smut and a lot of self-healing. Author’s Note: @ilikeitbetterangsty THIS IS FOR YOU BABES💕 I really hope I did your request justice . Thank you so much for being an amazing mutual and beautiful person. Ps I’ve never been on a date, let alone a first date so I’m sorry if that scene was a little awkward. ALSO dividers are made by @saradika !!!!

His death was expected, anticipated even, yet the day she woke up next to a cold corpse seared itself inside her brain forever. She should be mourning. She should have been more upset, shed more tears for her husband of nearly twenty years. Instead, all Alicent could feel was an odd relief, a weight being lifted from her shoulders. She was finally free.

However, what does someone do with freedom when they’ve never had it? She could do anything in the world, she had more than enough money for it. But what do free people do? Alicent had to read up on what widows were into. They travel, indulge in hobbies, and go out for brunch and gossip. The main factor in all of these is they’re never alone. 

Twenty years of marriage and four children and Alicent couldn’t remember a time where she wasn’t alone. She had no friends, too busy caring for a sick old man, children, and running a company. Alicent didn’t want to be alone, she didn’t want to die knowing she had never truly loved. There was nothing holding her back, no father pushing religious guilt, no husband taking her time, and no children to judge.

At first, she made no moves for change. She continued staying at home and running her life as she always did. Although now she spent more time fussing over her only child at home rather than Viserys. Unfortunately, Aegon, her eldest and most troubled child finally declared he was moving out. He also said she needed to get a life in the exact same sentence. 

It was time to take a real look in the mirror at the woman Alicent Hightower had become. It was not the best feeling in the world. In the past she was happy, determined, and beautiful in some eyes. Now she was tired, a bit of a pushover and unbearably lonely. All she had done her whole life was serve other people, her father, her husband, her children and never herself. Alicent needed to change that before she died old and miserable. 

There was another thing she needed to come to terms with. She never loved Viserys, she never loved any man for that matter. Marriage wasn’t something she enjoyed but endured. Alicent wanted to love someone, which was something she never truly had. Except for once when she was young until she married her friend’s father. Maybe she didn’t hate sex just who it was with. Maybe she was capable of love just not for men. Maybe it was time she started attempting to live her truth.

That was the final push she needed to do something. So, Alicent took a leap of faith after reading a pop news article and downloading HER. It’s an app for lgbt dating, specifically lesbians… It still sounded like a dirty word even if she only said it in her head. There was still a twinge of guilt when she made her first match. It’ll pass, the article on women struggling being their true selves said so. 

Twenty years of marriage and Alicent didn’t even know how to flirt, let alone with a woman. The first woman she matched with was only slightly younger yet had no children. She called Alicent a milf, which is a compliment nowadays. It didn’t go much farther, the lack of knowledge on slang really did not bode well with people. 

Anyone younger than her wouldn’t do, so she changed the settings. The second match was one that made her excited. From the outside they seemed to share the same values and she was a mother too. They went on a singular date that might not have been the greatest. Alicent was a little awkward, still too insecure about herself to initiate anything, and avoided the goodnight kiss that was offered. It didn’t seem to bother the woman, which made her believe this could be the one. They could grow together, maybe even build a new life together. Alicent genuinely thought she found the perfect one. Until they ghosted her. 

The app was deleted that same night. Maybe dating wasn’t in the cards for her. It stung, surprisingly worse than when Viserys died. For a few days she sat in her house and sulked. She strictly ordered takeaway, and binge watched the housewives of Orange County. Braunwyn was without a doubt closeted, it was like looking in a mirror, a very fucked up mirror. 

Alicent did a quick deep dive only to find out her suspicions were correct. Right now, Braunwyn was happily outed and living with her girlfriend… It was a mix of jealousy and hope. Someone just like her was living her dream life, which was unfair, but maybe it meant she could manage to live her dream too. 

She finally decided to get off her ass and do something. She was a free woman, she could do whatever she wanted, she told herself as she did a rather intense spa routine. All of her expensive skincare products and fancy tools were being put to use today.  Alicent actually changed out of her pajamas and into a nice dress she hadn’t worn in ages. It was a black bodycon dress, the only one she owned. Very out of character for her but she was a free woman, she could wear whatever she wanted.

She was going to take herself on a date, to a fancy restaurant. Alicent arrived at the venue feeling nervous but excited at the same time. It was the first time she had gone here alone; the servers were quite surprised to say the least. As she was led to her table, she noticed the looks she was getting from some of the other diners. Maybe it was the dress, or maybe it was the fact she was alone for once.

It didn’t matter, she told herself. “Hey, is this seat taken?” Her head whipped to the side, “N-oh! No.” You let out a small laugh, “I'm only joking, I have my parents waiting for me. How’ve you been Ali?” The last person she expected to meet was Aegon’s old tutor. You hadn’t seen each other in several years maybe. It wasn’t a bad surprise, actually it was amazing to see you again. “I’ve been great, better than ever! How are you?” 

“Oh, I’ve been thriving! After quitting I went on a self-healing journey and haven’t gone back.” Your smile reached from ear to ear, you were absolutely glowing in every sense of the word. Alicent was captivated, maybe a little nervous trying to find the right words to say. She hasn’t felt this way since she was what? Fourteen and heavily in the closet. So, she did something way out of her comfort zone, a first step of sorts. 

“If you’re free, I’d love for you to come over for dinner sometime and hear more about how you’ve been.” You seemed shocked, cocking an eyebrow at her question. “Is the Alicent Hightower asking me on a date?” She froze, it didn’t even cross her mind what she was actually asking. 

So, she blurted out the first thing on her mind. "I...um…if you want it to be." You flashed a smile that was different from the one from earlier. You picked up a napkin, scribbling something on it. “Let me know the time and I’ll be there.”  She let out a sigh of relief when you walked away, feeling as if she was going to burst any moment now. Her head was spinning, her heart was racing. She actually asked someone out, on a date no less.

She was nervous, it had been so long since anyone besides her immediate family came into her home. At least it was clean now that Aegon wasn’t here to make messes everywhere he went. In her opinion the modern green color scheme looks great but maybe you hated green. Or maybe she was overthinking this. 

Alicent hadn’t ever really cooked besides a select few times the personal chef got sick. In her mind it would be more meaningful for her to cook something for the both of you. However, making homemade penne vodka was a lot harder than she thought. 

She wanted it to be perfect, she wanted to impress you in every way. The dining table was set with a vase of roses, her best silverware, and very expensive wine she was saving for a special occasion. She even bought a new dress for this evening, a form-fitting silk one with flowing sleeves.

It was a few hours into her cooking when you rang the doorbell. Alicent took a deep breath, telling herself to remain calm and not make a fool of herself. It didn't stop her from tripping over the edge of the rug on the way to the front door. She jumped up, dusting off herself.

You were there, just as beautiful as you were earlier. "Hey!" Your smile was contagious, making her grin in return. You looked absolutely gorgeous, dressed in a white button-down shirt and black jeans. You pulled her into a hug, you smelled like strawberries, and a scent she could only describe as happiness.

"It’s so good to see you!" She ushered you in, letting you take a seat while she went back to finish cooking. You looked around, taking everything in. “It's still as big as I remember, though you definitely changed the decor.” She snickered, "Well it was in desperate need of a facelift, I just couldn't stand the red and black anymore."

Ali returned with a big bowl, carefully plating both of yours. "I didn’t know you knew how to cook! I thought you had personal chefs for this kind of stuff.” She grinned proudly, "Well, I wanted to do something special for you tonight." 

"Aren’t you romantic," You smiled at her. You took a bite, letting out a pleasured sigh. "So good!" Her smile was practically radiant at your praise. You made small talk during dinner, talking about anything and everything. Catching up on what’s happened in the few years you hadn’t seen each other. 

She told you about how Aegon is doing, how he has a girlfriend now. You told her about how he was the reason you inevitably quit teaching and decided to travel. You talked about your life, how you took the time to really get to know yourself, and how that was the best decision of your life. She vaguely talked about hers, only giving you bits and pieces. 

What you did learn was that she was fucking hilarious, and so much more welcoming than other rich housewives you’ve met. You didn’t ask about the dead husband; it was pretty clear by the lack of a ring and her finally smiling. 

Alicent listened to every word intently, her big brown eyes staring into yours. She used to always have a sad look inside them but now she was practically beaming. It might have been the wine flushing her cheeks, but you chose to believe it was because of you.

At some point you ended up on the couch watching housewives, at least pretending to. You were both still talking over the noise, slowly leaning into each other each time you laughed. 

You leaned forward, brushing a stray hair from Alicent’s face. Your lips brushed together, “you’re beautiful, you know.” Alicent let out a laugh, "You're too much." Her eyes closed, taking the lead and kissing you first.

 When your lips met her, it felt as if fireworks had gone off. Your lips were soft like peaches but tasted sweet like cherries. Your hands touched her face gently, leaving trails of electricity where your fingers were touching. 

Her own hands gently tracing down your neck, shoulder, and side to rest on your hips. Alicent’s body sunk down on the mattress, letting you move on top of her to do as you pleased. When she broke the kiss to take a deep breath, you kissed down to her neck and jawline, sending vibrations throughout her. She made a sickly-sweet sound that made your ears tingle. 

Her hands moved slowly, almost cautiously as she moved your shirt up to feel your bare skin. She delicately traced lines up and down the curves of your waist. Your sweet kisses trailed down her neck, chest, and slowly you lifted up the dress she was wearing. Moving to suckle at the skin around her core, worshiping her thighs. 

Alicent let out a soft moan, curling her fingers into your hair. Her soft noises only encouraged you. Your fingers traced her folds, moving their way around the fabric. You looked up, watching her cheeks flush red in embarrassment. A simple nod was the encouragement you needed to continue.

Your lips kissed over the fabric, hearing her breathe become labored. Her fingers tugged lightly at your hair. You pulled down her underwear, moving it down to the end of her legs. It was your turn to blush, seeing how wet she was already.

Her hips twitched when you dragged a finger through her slit, your finger coming back glistening. You eased it inside of her, quickly finding the sweet spongy spot. Her back arched as you moved your finger, soon another one joining. Your tongue sucked at her clit, moving in circles.

Alicent bucked her hips into your hand, her moans filling the air. Her eyes were shut as you made her legs shake. Your tongue moved faster, hearing her sweet cries. She pulled your hair, pressing your mouth harder against her. Her walls tighten around your fingers, letting you know she was close.

Alicent shuddered, gripping your hair harder as she came. Her back arched off the couch, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. Her body finally relaxed, laying on the couch. Her eyes closed, a blissful smile on her lips.

You crawled up, leaning over her. You brushed her hair behind her ear, gazing into her brown eyes. They were still sparkling, like two polished stones. Alicent slowly moved her hands down your back, lifting your shirt over your head. She sat up, kissing you softly. 

Her hand slowly moved down, grasping your thighs and opening them. Her kisses trailed down your neck, breasts, and stomach. You let out a small noise as she rubbed you through your pants. Her kisses got hungrier as she undid your belt and pulled down everything that covered you.

You let out a squeal of surprise, feeling her pull you on top. Your cheeks flushed red, as she angled your cunt above her mouth. Alicent was precise, her mouth sucking at you gently. Her hands pressed against your hips, keeping you in place.

Your fingers threaded into her hair, holding her face to your cunt. She flicked her tongue against you, moving it in circles. Her hands moved up to squeeze your ass. You grinded against her face, your juices coating her chin and the couch. Alicent hummed against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you.

Her fingers pressed into you, curling up to prod at your sweet spot. She let out a purring noise, making you move your hips faster. Your breath hitched as she moved her fingers faster, sucking at you with a new intensity. Her tongue moved quickly, lapping up all the juices coming from you.

Your thighs quivered as you came, your voice shaking as you did. Alicent kept going, eating you out until she was satisfied. Your legs gave out, dropping you in a pile on top of her. You laid there, letting her wrap her arms around you as you caught your breath. 

"Did I do good?" You laughed, leaning forward to kiss her. "You were amazing,” you peppered kisses on her face, eliciting the cutest giggles you’ve ever heard. You rested your head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat. Her fingers played with your hair as you both laid there, tangled in each other's arms.

Last night had been one of the most out of character nights of Alicent’s life. She never invited someone over, let alone hooked up with someone. It was new, it was exciting, it was also borderline terrifying. Now that she was alone again her thoughts could once again consume her. 

You texted her back, at the very least you weren’t ghosting her. That eased the part of her that was afraid the sex was so bad you would never speak to her again. But now there were other things that bothered her. Your question, to be more specific. “Would you want to be my girlfriend?” 

It was too soon to do anything drastic, like a real relationship. Did she want that? The idea of being in a relationship with you was something that sounded nice in her head, But would it be good in reality. Not only was she freshly widowed as well as struggling to come to terms with her sexuality. By now, she should be over caring about what other people thought… She wasn’t over it in the slightest. 

There was still this guilt and overwhelming anxiety that was holding her back, the same things that held her back her entire life.  Alicent laid in her bed, trying to figure out how to answer your text... “I’m not sure if I’m ready, yet.” She wanted to say more, but her thoughts were quickly turning into a jumbled mess. 

“I used to tutor Aegon in mathematics… I’m very patient;)” Alicent rolled her eyes at the winky face, feeling the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile. “But…  I bought two tickets to the Bahamas last week… and my mom canceled so there’s an opening.” Her fingers hovered over the screen, she had never been to the Bahamas before. 

To be fair, she had never been anywhere but home. Alicent wasn’t one to drop everything and go on vacation… 

You made her want to.

Her thumb hovered over the send button for a moment.

Why was this so difficult?

She was free now; she could leave anytime she wanted.

So why did she keep waiting?

She could just let her phone fall out of her hand and pretend she didn’t see the text.

It took everything in her power to hit send, “I’d love too:)” 

You had been talking to each other every day for weeks. You’ve gone on several more ‘dates,’ which all ended in someone’s bedroom. She hadn’t ever felt this happy, but right now she was freaking the f out. She might have under-packed or maybe over packed her suitcase. What if the swimsuit didn’t fit like it did in the store? Should she have brought snacks? What if she forgot to lock the house? 

The airport was crowded to the point it made everything feel excruciatingly hot. Maybe it was her anxiety that was making her hot. Alicent glanced around at everyone, a million scenarios running through her head. There was no reason for her to be this nervous. Except there were a thousand reasons, she’s never left the country, the plane could crash, and maybe you wouldn’t show up. 

The last one wasn’t realistic. You promised to be waiting at the terminal. You always kept your promises, so she had no reason to worry. But what if you changed your mind? What if the flight was canceled? Or you got sick and didn't feel up to flying.

Was her mind just coming up with different scenarios so she wouldn’t get on the plane? Maybe she should turn around and go home. No, she was free now, she was finally over all the bad that happened. So, there was no reason to not get on the plane.

She had been so caught up in her own thoughts she didn't realize they called her boarding group. She slowly made her way to the gate, getting in the very back of the line. Alicent glanced around the terminal, no sign of you anywhere. She started picking at her fingers, a bad habit. When she was younger, she used to dig at them until they bled. 

The line moved at an excruciatingly slow pace. Every second felt like an hour and every step felt like a mile. However, she had made it to her seat on the plane in one piece.  She was able to get a window seat, something she was thankful for. At least if something bad happened Alicent could watch the plane crash into the waves.

You still hadn’t shown up and her heart rate showed no signs of going down. She could turn back right now, walk off this plane like nothing happened. She could go back to her old life, tucked away safely in her home. She could stop taking risks, what was she even trying to prove? There were thousands of excuses to turn back, and she was using them all. 

By letting this plane take off it meant a new beginning, a real one. The real first step, proof she was living differently and for herself. That scared her, did she even deserve to live for herself? What was her worth if she wasn’t serving someone else? Her fingers dug deeper into the bed of her nails; this was a stupid fucking idea. 

Alicent heard the flight attendant preparing to close the doors, She glanced down at her leg, preparing to jump out of this seat and run out the door. 

Back home.

Back to safety.

Back to what she was used to. 

“Hey! Sorry I took so long I was sat in the wrong seat,” your voice was soft and sweet like honey. Alicent turned around, staring into your eyes. You were gorgeous, to the point it made her temporarily forget what was going on in her head. "You made it," she spoke breathlessly, realizing she had been holding her breath the entire time. 

“I wouldn’t miss going on a trip with you for the world.” You smiled at her, intertwining your fingers with her own. A sense of calm washed over her, like the waves hitting the sand in the early morning. She finally let herself settle back into the seat, letting her eyes flutter close.

This was okay.

She could do this.

This is freedom. 

Alicent Hightower was finally living, 

For herself.

[zalrb]

for your recent ask on how to build relationships in movies where you used willabeth as an example i was just thinking of them as i read ur post lmao! what do u think are some underrated aspects of their relationship in the films ? and if you had to pick a favorite film of the potc trilogy based on just willabeth, which would you pick?

Oh, yay! A Willabeth ask!

AWE automatically wins on "At Wit's End" (aka "Will and Elizabeth's love theme") alone. That is the soundtrack to a cosmic, epic, transcendental, soul-moving, earth-shattering love story, that is the epitome of a romantic composition, it is everything. Like just listen.

But I mean, the scenes that they have in this movie?

I'm not sure that there's anything that shippers find underrated about them, it would just be in response to Sparrabeth shippers or people who are anti-Willabeth, which I just don't find merits a response but something I do quite enjoy about the Willabeth love story is the role Jack plays in it and how his respective bonds with Will and Elizabeth actually reinforce that love story:

Like, Jack helps Will come to terms with his parentage and history

and therefore who he is and Will, in turn, saves Jack from the gallows.

Elizabeth has faith in Jack, tells him he’s a good man, helps him see the morality of situations

and Jack does prove her right in Dead Man’s Chest by coming back to help the crew but I think the most significant way he proves her right is by going against a desire he wanted for all of At World’s End so he can do right by Will (and it actually goes further than his desire throughout At World’s End but to a fundamental passion like he sold his soul to Davy Jones to get the Pearl, that’s how much he loves the sea)

and then you had Jack speaking to Elizabeth’s desire for freedom

and encourages her obtainment of that freedom, of that agency, of that power

which ultimately leads back to her choosing to love and be with Will

which, despite what antis say, isn't a regression. The trilogy begins with seeing her discomfort in "polite society" and feeling pressured into doing what's expected i.e. an engagement to Norrington

which includes hiding her fascination with pirates as well as her feelings for Will

the two things are interconnected. In fact, when we see her being chastised for not behaving the way she should, it's when she's too intimate with Will

Her interest in pirates is signified with her keeping Will's medallion

her choosing Will is also her choosing her own freedom

Will even teaches her how to fight

and throughout the trilogy, it's them discovering more facets of themselves i.e. Will reunites with his father, Elizabeth actually gets to be a pirate but what even got them on those journeys was trying to find/help the other so they can be together

and those layers just bring them back together stronger. This has always been the point

This also isn't exactly underrated but I find when I go into the tag, there's a lot of emphasis on what Will does for Elizabeth, how he supports her, how in love with her he is, how devoted to her he is and I completely understand why but also Elizabeth's devotion to Will deserves a spotlight as well.

Going to fight undead pirates alone to save Will

Being both surprised and upset at Will even considering that she could be in love with Jack

Giving away the entire plan because she couldn't feign disinterest when Sao Feng acted as though he'd stab Will

Having to literally be carried away by Jack when Will was stabbed

Even the smaller, in between things like Will shouting at Elizabeth to shoot at the barrels of rum but her refusing because he was still caught in the net.

I just love them so much.

[sundew199]

Never Lose Me snippets

In honor of my Post-Rumbling Fic being completed, I wanted to put together some of my favorite moments/snippets from each chapter because I love it so much and I've become extremely attached to it. This is probably some of my best writing and I'm super proud of it. This is only the first ten chapters and I'll probably make a part two, just so this isn't ridiculously long.

Warnings/tags: mentions of suicide in chapter one's snippet. Postpartum depression implied in Chapter 10's snippet. This is a f!reader x reiner fic, the story is centered around Reiner creating a building a family with you post-rumbling.

Chapter One: A journal entry from one of Reiner's journals after he attempted, something you were unaware of and stumbled upon:

"I can’t stand to look at myself in the mirror, want to vomit when I catch a glimpse of what I am, who I was and what I’ll never be. I don’t deserve anything, I deserve to die, rot away in a nameless grave for all that I’ve done. I’m not a good person, I’m the epitome of everything opposite. 

I should be dead, I don’t know why I hesitated on blowing my head off. I guess it's because I couldn’t get her face out of my head, her eyes and how’d I rip everything she holds dear if I went through with it. An early death wouldn’t be so different from when I pass on the armor, I can’t be with her forever. Then again that’s what I deserve. She deserves better, deserves a man who doesn’t recoil at his own image and cries himself to sleep as memories flash repeatedly at night. 

I can’t allow myself to be selfish anymore, even if I so badly want to spend the rest of my life with her, as unrealistic as it sounds. She’ll live to old age and I’ll die at 25 and become nothing but a faded memory to her. I have so many regrets, more than I can count on two hands, but I think my biggest one was going through with the warrior program and signing my life away when I could’ve spent it with her. 

I’d give anything to wake up next to her in our own house, with kids running around in the early morning begging for us to get up and make them breakfast. I’d fucking break through wall Maria all over again if it meant I could have that. 

I’ll love her till my last breath even knowing her love for me will fade over time. "

His reassurance after you stumbled upon the journal and read what he wrote: "Reiner could see the hurt written across your face and saw how you took his explanation. Even if you knew just you alone wouldn’t be enough for him to mend the wounds that were his trauma, it hurt hearing how he wanted to give up. You were glad he didn’t but it stung as if he did. 

“Hey look at me.” Gently guiding you back to face him, thumbs brushing away the stray tears that ran down the old ones dried to your face. “If it weren’t for you and putting so much faith in me I wouldn’t be standing here in this kitchen. You’ve been the grounding force all my life, my reason to keep going, my reason to be better than who I was. I owe you who I am right now and I thank the universe every single day that we crossed paths, everyday sweetheart.”

The tremble in your bottom lip increased by a ten fold, allowing yourself to go limp in his hands for him to catch you, wrapping you in the familiar embrace that was him. You needed him as much as he needed you, bound together smoothly and seamlessly to always be the salve to each other's wounds, the reminder that it will get better. 

Time carried on in the kitchen, calming yourself in his arms with your face pressed to his chest. There was no urgency on his end, allowing you all the time to let everything out. When you pulled away, he smoothed the sides of your face from any remaining tears, pecking your lips."

Chapter Two: Proposing to you.

"His hand came to cup the side of your face, turning you in for a kiss. You smiled into it, placed your palm on the nape of his neck and stood on your tiptoes to meet him properly. The kiss turned into several, languid and deep, all laced with the love so strongly intertwined into your beings. Reiner pulled away, pecked your lips twice more and embraced you. 

“You are my everything, my other half.” Pulling away, running his hands up and down your arms. His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, words he wanted to speak turning his throat dry with emotion. “I can’t ever tell you how happy you make me, how lucky I am that my love for you wasn’t unrequited. You are my angel, sent to me when the universe knew I needed you most, without you sweetheart I wouldn’t be standing here, sharing this moment with you.” 

He smiled bashfully, pulling his arms away and shoving one of his hands into the pocket where the ring box was, clutching it tightly. He warmed under your expression to his words, the soft smile creasing your red cheeks. Ignoring the constant flipping of his stomach, the dryness in his throat and sweat beading on his neck, Reiner began again, lowering down to one knee. Instantly you gasped, hands over your mouth and your body shaking with near instant tears that hadn’t fallen yet. 

“From the moment I met you on that sidewalk in Liberio, when I was ten years old I knew I had to find some way to make sure you would be in my life. Even when I thought I wouldn’t live to see thirty, I still wanted to marry you, wanted to share a life with the woman who became the other half of my heart.” His voice shook, laughing cumbersomely and finally bringing out the ring box from his pocket. 

You were sobbing before him, stifling your tears of happiness as best as you could. Reiner’s entire body trembled as he fought to find the next words to go along with the famous four. 

“There is nothing else in this world that I have ever been so sure of, what was once a hopeless dream that I knew I had to make a reality when I was given a second chance, a second chance with you and to make the most of this life and cherish you like you deserve.” Pausing, Reiner blinked the few tears that escaped, opening the top of the box to reveal the ring he spent so much of his time fussing over. 

“Which is why I brought you out here tonight, to ask you a very important question sweetheart. Will you marry me?”

Chapter Three: His Doubts on Fatherhood:

"Saying that outloud was a lot for him at that moment, a vague statement that held layers upon layers beneath it. Reiner knew his most inner insecurity was failing as a partner and now add father to that list and he was a mess with unrationalized thoughts about what could or couldn’t go wrong. Not having a dad growing up and seeking out said father and finding out he had nothing to do with him rewired him that day. Reiner didn’t want for one second that his future son or daughter felt unwanted by him, to not see the lengths he went to to make sure they were loved and cherished by him, that they were all he could’ve asked for. He knew the nursery not being done when they arrived wouldn’t matter to a newborn baby, but it mattered to him. 

“Why’s that?” Came your tentative voice, one of your hands resting over his hand and your thumb rubbing soothing circles on the inside of his wrist. 

“Because I want them to feel appreciated and wanted before they arrive, to know that I want them in my life and that I’m excited to be their dad. I know a newborn baby isn’t going to know or comprehend any of that so I guess it’s more for me, to make up for what I didn’t have.” 

He wanted to cringe at how selfish that sounded, but he was telling you the truth. This baby would never experience what it felt like to be unwanted, to go to the farthest lengths to earn approval from him. Reiner would die before he ever allowed his children to feel an ounce of what he felt growing up. Finishing the nursery may have been seen as something not as important to anyone else, but to him it was the first step to being anything but what his mother and father were to him. 

“Reiner. This baby is already so loved. I know how important all of this is to you, but I feel like you’re trying to prove something to me as well, which you don’t have to.” 

Tears were burning at the corners of his eyes, blinking rapidly so he wouldn’t embarrass himself over crying in the kitchen over old buried trauma. Frustration simmered inside him often when he felt the weight of old wounds resurface after so many years, so sure that he’d healed from it at this point. Even with your constant reminders that healing was never linear and that it was okay, Reiner at times felt pathetic for letting it affect him like it did. 

“I just want to be a good dad, I’m scared that I’ll get in my own head and fail and be like my dad and I don’t want that. Even though I’ve wanted kids and I’m so excited, it’s overwhelming sweetheart.” A thumb came to brush the tear that slid down his cheek, inhaling a shaky breath and shuffling his weight on his feet. Reiner hated that this was overwhelming when it’s all he’d ever wanted. Grappling with new emotions and situations was never his strong suit and he hated that about himself sometimes, he wished it were easier to carry the stress of an impending arrival such as this one, but by god he was overwhelmed and scared and channeling that into working and finishing the nursery along with various other things for you and the baby. 

Chapter Four: After his daughter is born:

"A quick glance over to him and Reiner was crying, holding Maisie just under his chin and repeatedly kissing the crown of her head. Her fists were curled tightly to his shirt, holding onto Reiner as if she knew it would comfort him. Seeing your fiance so emotional at such random had the all too familiar lump forming in your throat. 

“I’m sorry - it just feels like I’ve been dreaming, that I’m going to wake up back in warrior barracks in Liberio.” Choking out on a whisper, tipping his head back so the tears wouldn’t roll down his cheeks too quickly. A smaller hand that belonged to you, landed over his that was cradling Maisie to his chest, offering your presence. “I don’t know why I’m having the sudden realization now that this is real when she’s six weeks old I- fuck sweetheart this is real right, I’m not going to wake up.” 

A quiver began in your bottom lip hearing the plea in his tone, like he was so afraid this would all fade from existence, slip from his fingers as he tried to hold on. Forming the words of reassurance were a struggle, mouth running try as you mouth silent words to a response. That seems to prompt a further reaction from him, blinking rapidly and forcing a smile, pulling you tighter to him. 

“Yes, this is…this is real Reiner, you're not going to lose this. You’re going to wake up in your bed in the home you built, next to me and next to your daughter.” Finally managing to say a few words, though your voice was so strained from keeping the tears at bay you feared he might’ve not heard you. 

His head bobbed in understanding, pressing his lips to the crown of Maisie’s hair and squeezing his eyes shut. What once was a broken, scarred man who convinced himself he was worthy of nothing but an early death, sat beside you a man who couldn’t be more grateful for the life he had, the life he swore would never come to fruition. Reiner inhaled sharply, lifting his head up and back to take in a few deep breaths. 

“I mean it when I saw you’re the greatest thing that’s happened to me, you’ve given me a family sweetheart, made me a father and will make me your husband. You and Maisie are my entire world, my entire purpose.” His hand came to cradle the back of your head, looking at you with glossy eyes that swirled with endless amounts of love and appreciation for the impact you had on his life. Tears were falling down both of your cheeks, Reiner wiping the one he could with his thumb and letting out a few laughs, amused that his uncontainable emotions were bringing you both to tears. Maisie remained unfazed on his chest, sleepily blinking back at you, bringing a tender smile to your lips.

“I’d choose you all over again if I had to, every single time sweetheart.” Sealing his words with a tentative kiss, allowing it to linger even if it was only meant to be short, swiping his thumb over your cheek once more for added adoration. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, bringing it to you so you could plant a kiss on his palm."

Chapter Five: A conversation you had with Pieck about her grief post-rumbling and planning for a wedding:

“Perfect, she can help us with the wedding planning, maybe wait till she’s old enough so she can be a little flower girl.” 

Warmly you smiled at Pieck, touched that she wanted to involve Maisie in her wedding. She’d make the cutest flower girl for sure, steal the show from the new couple by accident, but Jean or Pieck wouldn’t care, Maisie couldn’t help it. 

“How is the wedding planning going?” 

“It’s…it’s a work in progress. Jean and I are so busy half of the time there’s barely any time to discuss. I know he for sure wants to try and have it back in Paradis.” 

“Really? How do you feel about that?” 

A shift in emotions crossed her face, weakly giving you that somber smile. Pieck was guarded, a lot more since the rumbling, losing everything like everyone else did, but also losing so much more at the same time. 

“I’m really not sure. His parents are back in Paradis so of course I understand that, but my dad is buried here and so is…everyone else.” 

Your heart clenched, remembering the day you attended the small funeral for Mr.Finger and not too long after helping with the small grave sight for the friends who never got to see the end of the war. Marcel, Porco, Bertholdt and Colt all had headstones made in commemoration, not too far from the town hall. Reiner, Annie and Pieck visited often, as did you before Maisie. Though small and something dear to the four of you, the gesture and connection was there. 

“I’m sure Jean understands.” 

“I haven’t mentioned it.” 

“Pieck…” 

She sighed, tapping her nails on the table and looking around the cafe. You had a feeling you knew why she hadn’t mentioned it to Jean, the almost relationship she had with Porco and the time it took for her to accept his death. Like Reiner, there was a weight that crashed down after the rumbling, the weight of losing everything and realizing you'll never get to see some people ever again. 

“I know I should, but I don’t want him to take it the wrong way.” 

“How would he take it the wrong way?” Questioning her gently, careful not to pry too much into her relationship. Maisie smacked at the table, innocently unaware of the heavy emotions hovering between you and Pieck. 

“I don’t know, I’m probably overthinking this. I just wanted to get married here, because… I want our friends to see us get married.” 

Anguish of a different kind came over you, reaching for Pieck’s hand and lightly squeezing it. The tonnage of losing people you considered family would never go away, shadowing over happy and joyful events that were intended for celebration. You felt a little bit of it after Maisie was born, wishing Bertholdt were here to meet his best friend's daughter. Reiner never said, but you knew.

“Talk to Jean about it, it’s your wedding too and I have a strong feeling he’ll understand and the two of you will come to a compromise.” 

The small signature smile came from her, nodding softly and squeezing your hand back finally."

Chapter Six: the aftermath of your daughter turning one:

"When he returned, you waited for him, curling into his chest when his arms came around you. The attempts to lull you to sleep with the gentle motions of his hand rubbing up and down began to work until you shifted and reached for your book. Instead of grabbing it from the drawer of your nightstand, your fingers grasped the soft fabric of something, pulling it out to reveal the baby blanket you brought Maisie home from the hospital in. You’d put it in there a long time ago so you’d never lose it, a small keepsake from when she was a newborn. 

Bottom lip trembling seeing how small the fabric was, instantly reminding you that at one point she was that small. You sniffled and let out a sob, clutching it to your chest and curling back into Reiner. He called your name repeatedly, confused by the sudden turn around of events. 

Finally, looking at him through the tears you spoke.

“She was so little, Reiner she was so little. What happened?” 

Unable to see the relieved smile on his face as you’d buried yours in his chest, Reiner bit back the little chuckle and squeezed you close. He held you while you cried, the emotions of your baby turning one crashing down all at once. If you knew all it took was looking at the blanket she came home in, then maybe you would’ve done this earlier, get all the emotions out beforehand. 

Pulling you away, Reiner wiped your tears and let out a sigh. His face read of endearing smugness, the kind when he knew eventually all your worries would be solved. Part of you felt as if he was simply waiting for a moment like this, knowing it was bound to come. 

“Do you feel better?” 

“No?! Our baby is one, I feel sick.” 

He laughed then, hauling you into his lap and using his hand to tuck your head under his chin, rocking you as if you were Maisie, which actually turned out to be kind of soothing. 

“It’s only going to get worse from here.” 

“Thanks, I feel so much better.” Sarcastically sniffling, rolling your eyes even if he couldn’t see. 

Kissing the top of your head, a mischievous chuckle rumbled in his throat, already knowing he was just going to continue to add on. 

“She’ll start talking in full sentences. Eventually waking us up in the middle of the night to crawl into bed with us.” 

“Stooop.” Whining on top of him, purposely interrupting his ramblings for the sake of your emotional stability. 

“Then she’ll be begging you to put bows in her hair, braid it and style it how you want. Insist on following you around everywhere, turning into a mini you.” 

“She’s already growing so fast, she walked for the first time all by herself today.” 

Unable to help the small sniffle and tears once you remember Maisie hit another milestone today, Reiner paused for a moment, bringing you up to look at him. His eyes were misty, the attempt to pester you backfired. 

“Yeah, but she’ll always be our little girl, our Maisie.” Whispering and fighting the tremble in his bottom lip with a weak smile. 

Thumbing over the quivering lip, you pressed a small kiss to his lips, curling back into him with your face pressed into the side of his neck."

Chapter Seven: Yours and Reiner's wedding vows.

Reiner's to you: "Instead of reaching for the cards stuffed in his pocket, his head dipped in one final composure of his emotions before looking back up to meet you in the eye. 

“From the moment I met you sixteen years ago it was love at first sight, even if ten year old me didn’t exactly know what that was, I can guarantee it was. When I had to leave for Paradis the first time all those years ago, I promised myself I would make it back, not for Marley or the brass but for you. I didn’t have a grasp on why my heart yearned for you all those years away, but I finally understood when I saw you standing there on that dock, meeting me in each other's arms.” His voice shook further and further with every word he spoke, noticing the two tear stains on your cheeks. Sucking in a deep breath, Reiner kissed your knuckles and continued. 

“You didn’t have to care for me the way you did when I returned, didn’t have to reassure a broken man who saw himself so unworthy in his own eyes, didn’t have to stay up late with me all those nights when I couldn’t sleep, but you did. You showed me unconditional love and understanding after five years apart, never judged when at the time that was all I felt deserving of. You mended the broken pieces of my heart and soul with your attentive care, brought the light back into my dark life, helped me push through each day. You were my second chance at life, my reason to keep going even when I thought living to my thirties was never going to happen. So when I saw you again in Fort Salta, I promised myself to be the man you deserve, be the father our daughter deserves, because there aren’t enough words to express how much I love you, how much you mean to me and how you shape this heart of mine, I never want to leave this world without saying I love you.” 

Yours to Reiner: "The faint sniffles from the friends and family watching on was nothing but a buzz in his ears, training his eyes on yours and watching the emotion swirl. Reiner kissed your hands one last time, holding them between your bodies and waiting for you to speak. When you were composed enough, you let out a little laugh with the tremble in your lip. 

“Crossing paths with you changed my life forever, even if our first encounter was brief. I will admit I never understood the infatuation you had for me, why you pestered me endlessly and always ended up by my side. When I dropped out of the program, I was scared I wouldn’t get to see you again, but of course you made it a point to walk with me to and from the headquarters, even if it potentially made you late to training. I realized my crush for you right before you left, feeling so blindsided and wondering if I’d ever get to see the bright blonde boy who loved to point out the butterflies on our walks home again.” 

Your hands shook in his, Reiner quickly seeing the turn of your emotions for what you were about to say next, bracing himself for the tears that were building in his waterline and the lump rising in his throat. 

“When you did return, I was so happy to have my best friend back, so excited to mess around like before you left, but I realized that boy was buried deep inside you. I knew you weren’t lost completely even though some nights spent in your apartment I questioned if there was a light at the never ending tunnel. I never had any concrete reasoning for staying by your side when you returned, just wanting you to be okay and scared I would lose the one person who made my heart flutter when I saw them. I know you feel as if you’ll never truly be the man I deserve and I want to tell you that you’re wrong. You’ve always been a man worth loving, a man worth a life full of happiness and health, worthy of a family and friends who see you for who you are. You’ve always been the other half of my heart before I even realized it and I could live a thousand lifetimes and still not be able to tell you how much I love you.” 

Chapter eight: Yours and Reiner's daughter feeling her younger sibling kick for the first time.

"Smiling at the following question, Maisie crawled over your leg to get to Reiner, climbing onto him like a tree and poking next to the corner of his eye. You watched as he praised her for the correct answers and the gentle correction at the wrong ones. Reiner went over the features of his face until he started to point to different ones and wait for her to respond. And Maisie did flawlessly, still working on some of the pronunciations but both of you knew what she was trying to say. 

“Baby.” 

Your daughter had rotated her head in your direction, pointing at your stomach. Reiner shared a look of awe with you, neither of you had mentioned that often there was a baby in your stomach but Maisie knew and both of you were a little shocked to say the least. 

“That’s right, there's a baby in Mommy’s tummy.” Patting the center of your abdomen as you confirmed her observation. Even though Maisie had just pointed it out, she looked a little perplexed, moving to sit between you and Reiner, staring at your stomach. 

Lifting the hem of your shirt until the small bump was revealed, you rested your hand at the crown, watching your daughter's eyes widen in even more fascination. Like she was scared something was to happen, Maisie reached her tiny hand out and rested it on the side of your stomach. Eyes blinking so slowly as her mind turned with pondering, working out the complexities of your pregnancy that she now suddenly became aware of. 

A flutter rippled under your hand, barely noticeable at first but when the action repeated your eyes widened. If you were correct, the baby just kicked for the first time, and patiently you waited to see if they would do it again. 

“Reiner.” 

“Hm?” Taking his eyes off of Maisie to see what you wanted, having to balance his weight quickly as you grabbed his wrist to place his hand where yours was. At first he questioned what you were doing until he felt the tiny kick. The air in his throat hitched, body completely frozen as he waited for the baby to do it again. Maisie had been watching you two, not sure why your eyes were wide and bodies so still, so she moved her hand next to Reiner’s, feeling left out. 

Instantly, your husband guided her hand to where his once was, placing his comically larger one over Maisie’s and waiting on bated breath for the baby to hopefully kick just one more time. It would be an experience for your daughter, feeling her sibling kick in the womb in her presence and you hoped they would cooperate. 

Sighing in relief when the kick came, Maisie jolted a little, unsure of what that was, looking back at Reiner for answers. 

“That’s your brother or sister Mais, say hi.” Speaking softly by her ear and smiling with pride, encouraging his daughter to greet her sibling. 

“Hi…” 

You were melting on the spot, seeing Maisie timidly acknowledge the baby even if they couldn’t hear her, Reiner sharing the same look as you. A few moments passed with occasional kicks and Reiner guiding his daughter's hand around your stomach to entice them to keep making their presence known. With each one, Maisie smiled, even if she wasn’t entirely sure what she was feeling, she knew just by the looks on yours and Reiner’s face that it was a good thing. 

When the kicks couldn’t be felt anymore, you pulled your shirt back down and curled up next to Reiner, with Maisie beginning to doze off in your lap. The soft pats from your palm and the occasional threading of your fingers in her hair, she loses her battle with sleep quickly."

Chapter nine: doubts about being a good mom.

"“What’s wrong?” Murmuring, letting your hands fall in your lap and running his own up and down your arms. As he waited for your response, he tried to think of any possible reason why you could be upset, wanting to have his own comforting words ready the moment you were. 

“I’m just worried over everything .” 

Reiner softened, nodded for you to keep going. “I feel stupid for all this anxiety when we’ve already done this, but what if Maisie doesn’t like the baby and lashes out? How am I going to take care of two kids when you’re at work? What if I can’t-” 

“You can.” Cutting you off despite knowing there was probably so much more on your mind you needed to voice. A deep sigh exhaled through his nose, taking a moment to wipe your tears and kiss the little salt stains they left behind on your now flushed cheeks. Understanding how you felt, feeling similar to before Maisie was born, Reiner moved to take you into his arms for an embrace. The soft strands of your hair tickled the side of his face, threading through with his fingers for further comfort. He could hear the further cries into his shoulder, letting his arms tighten around you. 

“I know it’s been a lot for you recently, but sweetheart you know I’m going to be here. You know I’m going to go out of my way to be there and help you out, even if I am at work.” Pulling you away so he could look you in the eyes as he spoke. Reiner couldn’t help but give a silent chuckle when he scanned over your face, looking so much like Maisie when she got upset. Dipping down for a small soft kiss, he held the sides of your face as he gave you the most affectionate look he could muster. 

“You are an incredible woman, mother and wife. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that you won’t be able to handle both of them because you’re smart, caring and face every obstacle with a calm, sound mind. Everything is going to work out one way or another.” Affirming to you once more that there wasn’t anything you couldn’t do nor face alone if Reiner could help it. His commitment would always be to you no matter what, be there for you like you were for him in trying times. Even if he were away and you needed him, Reiner would break and bend laws to be by your side, it was the least he could do for all that you had done for him. 

“I just don’t know why I’m so worked up over this?” Wiping your nose on the back of your hand, looking up at him and then back down to your stomach. Reiner followed your gaze, carefully climbing over you to sit beside you, quickly checking on Maisie as she napped. 

“Because it’s an entirely new situation, for the both of us, double the responsibility. We don’t know what it's like to raise more than one kid and that’s okay, it’s all about figuring it out as we go.” Running his finger lightly over your bump, then palming it in the center. Reiner would admit that he’d had thoughts like yours recently, nothing to this extreme, moreso worried about the present, forcing himself the reminders that he would face the future when it came. 

“Yeah.” 

Your response was plain, but reduced of the worry and uncertainty. Hooking the hand on your bump under your chin, Reiner laid the last of his comfort into the kiss he pressed to your lips. Whatever anxiety remained, melted off of you as you kissed him back, quickly wrapped in the blanket that were his words and actions. Reiner kissed your forehead, reaching over to bring Maisie back to his arms. 

“You’ll be okay, I’ll always make sure of it.” 

Slouching against the headboard once he was readjusted, he reached for your hand, stroking his thumb over the top. Whatever life had to throw this way, Reiner made the same promise over and over again, to be everything and more to you, till the day he drew his last breath."

Chapter ten: dealing with postpartum depression after yours and Reiner's son his born.

“I’m sorry.” Trembling words left your lips, sounding so pathetic and weak. You were pulled off so you could look him in the eyes, concern laced with sternness was what you were met with. 

“For what?” Asking as if it were a rhetorical question, holding the side of your tear swollen face and dabbing a few of the tears away with his hand. 

“For…for I don’t know, he wouldn’t calm down or stop crying and I tried everything but it wouldn’t work.” 

Your husband somehow softened and hardened at your words. Reiner wasn’t truly upset with the situation, moreso with the fact that you immediately turned apologetic for being unable to calm Gabriel down. There were no signs that this was inherently your fault, and Reiner knew things would be testy with your emotions a good while after giving birth. Navigating these emotions were like walking on crack glass high in the sky, stepping lightly and weighing his words and actions to keep from everything shattering. It pained him like no other that you were a mush of emotions, knowing how mentally taxing it was on you. If somehow it were possible for him to carry all of that for you, he would. 

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing to apologize for. Sometimes babies get that way and it just takes more time to calm them down, you know that.” Wrapping an arm around your waist and hauling you into his lap. Dexterous fingers glided along your flushed, tear stained cheeks, looking at you with pure adoration. Reiner knew you were bearing the weight of being strong and capable as he returned to work earlier than expected. He hated that you felt the need to do that, his promises were still true and he would uphold every last one to ensure your emotional and mental health. 

“But you just got home from work and immediately had to take care of the situation. I didn’t even have dinner ready, nor did I greet you.” Your words turned into apologetic ramblings, overexplaining to make up for the situation at hand. 

Sweetheart,” Brushing a thumb along your bottom lip to quiet the shaking words leaving your lips. “It’s okay, I don’t expect any of that when I get home. I care about seeing the three of you, that’s it. And it doesn’t matter if I just walked in the door and you need help, I’m your husband and their dad, it's the bare minimum of what’s expected of me.” 

His words were like a wall of truth smacking you in the face, not wanting to accept it. Your husband deserved to come home and relax for a bit before jumping into parental duties, at least that was your reasoning. Reiner already had so much to handle and throwing more on him just felt…wrong. It was a way of showing your appreciation towards him, a little out of the ordinary but you couldn’t think of any other way at the moment. 

“I’m just-'' Taking in a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut for the confession you were about to let out. “I’m just so tired. They both need all of my attention and I want to do everything I can to give it to them but I feel so drained and I know that makes me sound like a bad mom. It’s not fair that you’re not here and it’s even worse for me to just dump more on your plate when you get home, I hate it and I feel like a failure.” 

Unable to look Reiner in the face, ashamed at the words that left your mouth, you buried your face in your hands, letting out pitiful little sobs. It was one thing to inwardly confess to feeling like a failure, but to voice it aloud to your husband struck you so much harder than you expected. Intentionally or not, you dubbed yourself as the strong one, the one to lean on instead of the other way around. Reiner never burdened you with that notion, that was all your doing and you knew that. Everything had gone so smoothly with Maisie, you’d admit your expectations were high with Gabriel. Naive thinking yes, but were you so wrong in thinking that? 

Settling for embracing you and pulling your hands away before he spoke, Reiner smoothed his hands over your back, rubbing circles to calm the pent up emotions inside you. He knew you held some resentment for him going back as early as he did and he couldn’t blame you. But for once he didn’t let that get inside his head, because at this moment he needed to be the rock to your support and not pity himself over something he couldn’t control. 

“You’re not a failure sweetheart. The fact that you’re so upset over this tells me how much you care.” Using age old lines he once heard over and over from you to offer the same reassurance and relief it brought him. “I know it can be hard to ask for help when you feel like you can handle everything, but you need to put yourself first sometimes. You are not just a mother, you’re a person with their own individual self that deserves to just have moments to yourself. It’s not selfish or greedy to want to be away from the kids for a bit, its healthy and that’s all I want for you angel.” 

Bringing yourself to look Reiner in the face, letting out a long somewhat defeated sigh, you gave a small nod. There were thousands of reasons why you loved Reiner, but his poetic words of reassurance were at the top of your list, the man stringing together words and sentences that were so beautifully conveyed that calmed your weary soul. Your husband was truly the better half of your and you couldn’t even imagine living in the world without him. 

“It’s not going to happen overnight.” Countering back a bit with slight humor in your tone, the tonnage of your inner struggles lifting slowly.

His lips curled into the softest smile, tracing the lines of your cheekbones and tilting his head in a small nod. “I know, but you’re not alone, you’re never alone and I want you to get used to leaning on me more when you need to. I’m never going to judge you for whatever is bothering you, nor your thoughts or feelings.”

[littlemissfiore]

Cigarettes out the Window. | Vinsmoke Sanji x fem! Reader

summary: sanji falls in love with a woman he truly loves, but faith does not grant him such luck. obligated by his family to go through an arranged marriage he does not want to partake in. sanji has to decide which path in life he wants to take.

tags: modern au!, doctor!reader, friends-to-lovers, sanji's pov, horrible family dynamics, mentions of sex, spoilers to WCI arc, no use of [y/n], angst

note: if you can read this, it means this fanfic made it out of the draft hell. it's kinda long too, was going full novel mode, chopper also doesn't exist in this au (sorry), i wanted to put my own spin on the WCI arc but if it were set in modern au, hopefully it goes well, you can also imagine this as a la!op Sanji

The Baratie was full compared to other nights. Like, god awfully full, was there some sort of special event going on? Sanji didn't know nor did he have the time to ponder something so trivial. He had tables to serve and Zeff was already losing his mind in the kitchen in desperate need of Sanji.

He took a long inhale from his cigarette before heading back inside the restaurant. Throwing it and stomping it on the ground, first clearing his throat before letting out a cough.

Shit. When was the last time he had visited a doctor? All that smoking was not good for him, Sanji knew that. Although, he could care less, fixing his posture and tie before heading back inside the Baratie.

"Where the hell is Sanji!?" yelled Zeff, smacking the kitchen counters. Sanji's footsteps were heard amongst the sizzling and loud noises in the kitchen. "Well I'll be damned, look who decided to make an appearance."

Sanji scoffs. "Decided to take a small break," he responds, picking up his blazer from the rack and putting it on. "Y'know, since I'm not allowed in the kitchen."

"You most definitely won't after this," Zeff states, even though this was not the first time Sanji heard this. "Now, get out there and serve some customers! You're holding us back!"

Usually, Sanji and Zeff would argue and go back and forth. It was tedious, but no matter how many times he tried standing up for himself. That old man would refuse to have him help out in the kitchen. Tonight, Sanji begrudgingly chooses to keep his mouth shut and head out to serve customers.

The Baratie was full, more so than other nights. It was going to be one hellish night for Sanji and the rest of the cooking crew, he was sure of it. Foolish of him to think he would be able to get out early and spend the rest of his night with his friends. Sanji made his rounds around the restaurant, making sure the guests felt comfortable and satisfied.

Everything seemed to be going okay-wait-did his eyes betray him? No. A beautiful lady sitting all by herself? Impossible!

Leaving a beautiful lady all on her own in a big restaurant like the Baratie should be a crime. Sanji watched as she looked everywhere in the restaurant, probably waiting for her date to arrive. She didn't look nervous, but one would be foolish enough to not see the obvious disappointment plastered all over her face.

Make all the guests feel welcomed and comfortable at the Baratie, thought Sanji as he made his way to the lady.

"M'lady," started Sanji. You did a little jump on your seat, surprised by the sudden appearance of the waiter. You turned around to look at him with big wide eyes, expecting him to say something. Cute, was all Sanji could think at the moment. "I'm sorry for startling you, have you decided what you would like to have for the night?"

You shook your head weakly, "No," you responded, looking down at the menu. "I'm waiting for my date but he hasn't arrived yet. Looks like I'll have to eat alone..."

Sanji was baffled. That's the only way he could describe what he was feeling right now. What kind of man left a woman alone in a restaurant, especially on a date.

"A gorgeous woman such as yourself shouldn't be eating alone," stated Sanji, a sly smirk lingering on his lips. Your date might have passed off his chance with you, but he certainly wasn't going to.

Your stare lingered before realizing he was complimenting you. You felt your face grow hot, your eyes immediately glued on the menu to avoid his stare. "Oh..! Um... Thank you!" you responded, shyly. You closed the menu and set it down on the table in front of you, turning to look at the waiter. "But I'll just have a glass of water. I don't think I'll be eating anything tonight."

Nonsense, thought Sanji. "A beautiful lady like yourself should enjoy our very best!" Sanji stated, proudly. How funny, Sanji would always complain about Baratie. Now, here he is, trying to give the best impression he can of the restaurant. You didn't seem entirely convinced, just absentmindedly staring at him. "On the house."

You smiled. "You're doing a lot more for me than my date," you gesture towards the other seat that was empty.

"And let a lovely lady like yourself be all alone tonight? Never," flirted Sanji, making you flustered. You chuckled shyly, he could tell his compliments made you feel giddy.

Before you could continue the conversation, out of the corner of his eye, Sanji could see Zeff glaring at him from a distance. While his chivalry was not a problem, the amount of time he wasted swooning over women cost the restaurant time and money.

Are we paying you to tend to customers or flirt with women?! Sanji could already hear that old man yelling at him. Before you could continue with your conversation, he fixed his blazer.

"I'm sorry, madam," started Sanji. "I have to tend to the other customers but I promise you I will be right back."

All you could do was giggle and nod your head. "Alright!" you gave him a smile before he walked off. Sanji walked past Zeff, expecting him to berate him but he just felt his gaze follow him all the way to the kitchen.

Tch! That old man was always on his ass. How could Zeff not see he was tending to a beautiful lady who's date didn't bother to show up last minute. Of course, how would he know? He's never had a wife. Sanji just needed to take these plates out to their respective tables, then, he could talk to the beautiful lady sitting by herself.

Yet, when he stepped out of the kitchen, you were no longer there. Maybe you were in the bathroom, fixing your makeup. Could you have possibly been crying? No, Sanji shakes his head. The sooner he can serve the plates, the sooner he can check up on you. You still needed your glass of water!

After he finished making his rounds, Sanji made his way to your table. He had a glass of water on his hand, setting it down on the table. You were nowhere to be found, the only thing left on the table was the menu and a folded twenty dollar bill.

Oh, you were gone.

Sanji frowned. It broke his heart to think a beautiful lady like yourself would leave out of embarrassment. It did not help that you were surrounded by people around you who had dates or friends accompanying them. What a shame, he truly wished he would have made your night.

Sanji's cough was getting worse by the day. He tried holding on for as long as he could but, alas, he succumbed to his sickness.

"Good, don't come back 'til that nasty cold of yours is gone," Zeff stated simply. Of course, he of all people would say that. Sanji felt like he could hear the man thanking the heavens from the other side of the phone. "Check with a doctor, is probably all that smoking you do."

"I'm fine," Sanji said through gritted teeth before letting out a horrible cough.

"Check yourself, boy!" yelled Zeff through the phone. "I will not allow you back into Baratie if you do not get better. So get off your lazy ass and go see a bloody doctor."

"Even outside of work, you love to order me around," spat Sanji, glaring down at his phone. "Fine! I'll get it checked out, you can stop complaining."

"Fine!" was the last thing Zeff said before hanging up.

That old man, always thinking he could intrude not only at work but in his personal life as well. Sanji coughed, holding his chest to try and ease the pain. He hadn't been to the doctor in a while, maybe he did need to check himself out.

Bzzt!

Sanji stared at his screen, reading off the text message.

Reiju Father wants to talk to you read 2:30

Sanji chose to ignore the message sent by his sister, there was no way she could convince him to talk to his father. After all these years, he wants to talk to him? After he kicked him out of his house and disowned him.

Sanji shook his head, a desperate attempt to shake off all the bad thoughts that started to crawl in his head. There was no use thinking about his old life, he was happier now. With friends who cared about him, even old man Zeff cared about Sanji in his own way.

Sanji lets out another horrible cough, man, was he feeling shitty. There was no use beating around the bush, he needed someone to take care of him. What better person to do that than the woman he trusts the most, Nami.

Sanji Nami~ I'm sick. Your presence would help me feel better ! ❤️

"Nami!" exclaimed Sanji, swinging his door wide open. He was excited to have alone time with a beautiful woman such as Nami. What else could he ask for? "And, Usopp."

Sanji frowns. "Don't get too excited to see me now," stated Usopp, holding his arms up in the air. "She told me to accompany her."

"I figured you needed more than just my company, Sanji," smirked Nami, making her way to his fridge and rummaging through it. She grabbed the first beer she could find, popping the cap off with the handle of the fridge. Oh, Nami! The woman that you are. "Ah! This tastes great! Good thing you're driving Usopp."

"What!" cried Usopp, glaring at the red-head. "Is this why you brought me all along!?"

Nami pressed her lips together. "Hmm... maybe!" she responded back, shamelessly. "You look like you went through hell, Sanji."

Sanji cleared his throat, forcing a smile for Nami even if his body felt like it was giving out on him. "You look as beautiful as ever, Nami."

"Have you ever visited a doctor yet?" asked Usopp, folding his arms. Sanji faces his friend, his blank expression giving Usopp a clear answer. "Now, that's why, you have not gotten better."

"How long has it been since you've seen a doctor?" asked Nami, sitting on Sanji's couch.

"It's... been a while," Sanji said, through gritted teeth.

"You're definitely gonna be the first one to go out of all of us," joked Usopp, earning a nasty glare from his blonde friend.

"Men..." sighed Nami, pulling out her phone. "Lucky for me, I have my own doctor. Free of charge!"

"Who?" asked Usopp, now sitting next to Nami.

It was almost as if Usopp was the one who needed to go to the doctor's office.

"I'm not saying!" Nami stuck out her tongue before chuckling. She turned to Sanji, acknowledging his presence. "She's cool, she can probably fix you up! She owes me a favor, anyway."

Sanji chuckled, heading to the kitchen to fix up a small snack for his friends. "You don't have to do all that for me, darling," he said, smiling. "I can manage."

Following right after was a string of long horrible coughs coming from Sanji. What a pain, it was unbearable he had to use the kitchen counter for support. Nami and Usopp look over at him from the couch before heading up to Sanji and leading him to bed.

"Yeah, I'm definitely calling her," grunts Nami. "This will cost you! You better feed me well once your health improves!"

Nami left Usopp alone to carry Sanji to bed while she searched through her phone. Finally finding the number and putting the call on speaker, Nami greeted, "Hello~, Love! Say.. are you free right now? I have a big favor to ask of you."

What a small world it was.

Who would've thought the girl from the restaurant was Nami's friend and a doctor. It was hilariously convenient, not that Sanji was complaining though. He was able to see your pretty face again. Just the flustered look you gave him as he laid in his bed was enough to know you recognized him.

"You two know each other already?" asked Usopp.

"From where?" Nami questioned, looking at you. From the look on your face, you were a little embarrassed that your love life would soon be on display while you're tending to someone.

"That one restaurant you told me to go to-" "Baratie, love," Sanji interrupted you. "Sorry, darling. I just work there, got to give that place some free promotion."

You chuckled.

"Stop flirting with my doctor, I don't need her running away because of your antics," huffed Nami. She turned to look at you baffled while you took Sanji's hand and checked his pulse. "Did the guy even show up?"

You shook your head, intently focused on Sanji before asking him any questions. "Something about an emergency, never texted me again," you mumbled.

Wow! That guy must've been a loser, thought Sanji. Not only had he ghosted a lady and left her alone at a restaurant, she was also a doctor. A cute doctor at that. No, gorgeous, no-wait-, a stunning woman. Ugh, thought Sanji. There were so many words to describe your beauty, it felt like he could write a novel.

"Well that guy is a loser, doesn't know what he's missing out on," cried Nami, putting her arms around you. "Don't worry, I'll marry you!"

"Yes, some guys can be dumb," stated Usopp, nodding his head.

Sanji let out a horrible cough, his body feeling disoriented as he held his chest. You searched through your bag, taking out your stethoscope and putting it around your neck.

"If you guys don't mind, can you leave us alone?" You asked, bluntly. "I shouldn't take too long, don't worry."

Even in his worst state, Sanji could feel a smile creep onto his lips. Nami did not miss his expression, giving him slight glares knowing he was secretly excited about having one-on-one interaction with a woman.

"Don't try anything weird, I can't afford to lose my doctor, they aren't cheap," said Nami, grabbing Usopp by the arms and dragging him out the room. Before closing the door, Nami points at you, "If he tries anything weird, tell me."

"Don't be jealous my dear Nami," joked Sanji, earning a giggle from you.

"As if!" with that Nami slams the door shut, leaving you and Sanji alone.

You let out a nervous chuckle. "I'm sorry, I was getting a little overwhelmed," You said. "What seems to be the problem here? You have a pretty bad cold from what I see."

"There is no problem here, darling," Sanji sits in an upright position on his bed. "It seems faith had plans for us to meet again."

"Seems so," you respond, curtly before putting on the ear tips from the stethoscope. "Do you smoke?"

"Yes."

"Hm." Was the only thing you responded with as you placed the bell on Sanji's chest. Sanji felt his heart drop, why did you respond like that? Did you find smokers unattractive? Sure he knew he had a nasty habit of smoking but he never figured it was too bad, right?

Why was Sanji doubting himself so hard? Why did his chest feel like it was all tied up in knots? He'd seen plenty of beautiful women, but now that you were in his presence he felt like he was struck by lightning. This was the first time Sanji had ever reacted like this. He usually had a collected demeanor, even when flirting with attractive ladies. Now, he didn't even know what to say, how to feel.

"Wow! Your heart is beating fast!" you exclaimed, worriedly. "Do you feel okay? I'm going to check and see if you have a fever, alright?"

You leaned in towards Sanji, the back of your hand softly landing on his cheeks. He felt his face turn red at the close proximity the two of you had. Get it together! You've been around women! Sanji scolded himself.

"You're burning up," you mentioned, sliding your hand to his forehead. "I think you might've contracted the flu, you should rest and drink plenty of water."

W-what?, thought Sanji. "That's all...?" his whisper coming out raspy. He was upset you were now leaving.

"Unfortunately for you, I am not allowed to give you any prescription medicine," you started, as you put away your things. "But if you go to a pharmacy store, you should get some medicine specifically for the flu. It'll fix you up faster, plus, you should quit smoking. At least for the time being while you recover."

There was a small silence between the both of you, listening to the rustling of your bad.

"Y'know you were beautiful that night, ma chérie?" started Sanji, staring at you starstruck. By the look of your face, you were caught off guard. He was taking a big risk flirting with you like this. "That jackass doesn't know how to appreciate a beauty like you."

Sanji watched your breathing stop for a second, taking in what was happening to you. He hadn't known you but by your reaction it seemed like you weren't used to these types of comments. What a shame, thought Sanji. He would shower you with praise every day if you would let him.

"T-thank you," you mustered the courage to say while facing down at the floor. "If you need anything, Nami has my number!"

You quickly gather your things and head towards the door, opening it. Usopp and Nami pretend to make small talk, acting as if they weren't trying to eavesdrop through the door. "I hope you get better soon!" you yelled out, leaving Sanji's room in a hurry and leaving the apartment.

Sanji's heart ached a little. He hoped he hadn't made you uncomfortable with his excessive flirting. He just couldn't resist you though. A woman of such high caliber as yourself should be showered with nothing but praise.

"You better not have said anything weird, or you're dead," frowned Nami, crossing her arms.

Even if he did, Sanji is sure he will make it up to you.

In the following weeks, no woman occupied his mind other than you. Sanji made sure to keep in touch with you, first pretending he needed another check-up to make sure he rid himself of his sickness. Then it turned from sending each other a few messages a day, to full blown conversations. Nobody had seen him like this, hell, nobody actually thought a day like this would come.

The day Sanji had confessed to his friends he had his eyes set on you, he was met with mixed reactions. Usopp and Luffy cheered him on, immediately telling Sanji to confess his feelings for you and sweep you off your feet. All Zoro could do was scoff, muttering to Nami 'let's see how long this lasts' before plopping on the couch. Sanji could see Nami's face becoming red, indicating how displeased she was.

"You womanizer!" Nami clenched her fist. "You better be serious about this! That poor girl cannot handle another heartbreak, you hear me!?"

Sanji felt a little hurt by Nami's comment but knew she was only saying it out of care for her friend. They've been friends for years, she has witnessed him flirt with almost every girl in the country by now.

"Relax, Nami, this is Sanji we're talking about," said Luffy.

"Exactly," huffed Nami, crossing her arms.

"When will we get to meet the lucky lady?" asked Luffy with a wide grin. A small smile was plastered on Sanji's face as Luffy kept asking him the same question.

Huh... Sanji hadn't thought about it. Now his mind was imagining what it would be like for you to meet his friends. His found family, how well you would get along with them. Sanji felt like a schoolboy with all that daydreaming he was doing in his head.

Vinsmoke Sanji, finally finding the woman of his dreams after spending years flirting with so many women. It started becoming more noticeable as the days passed. Before, he spent his time at the Baratie flirting with women and swooning them with free meals. Now, Zeff would catch him being on his phone, usually smiling down at whatever text message you had sent him.

Both his friends and the crew at the Baratie did not chastise Sanji whenever they saw him glued to his phone. No, instead, they would stand in front of him in disbelief. It was baffling, almost as if Sanji wasn't... Sanji.

The old man, Zeff, probably caught on before any of Sanji's friends could. He came into work more of an airhead than usual. His incessant flirting with women was now dialed back. Sanji still gave them pet names, but now he wasn't asking them for their phone numbers or to wait for him at the end of his shift.

Actually, there was one time a woman waited for Sanji at the end of his shift. Zeff was rather annoyed he had to tend to this customer when it was already closing time.

"Do you need anything?" asked Zeff, trying his best not to sound annoyed. He could tell you were nervous, stumbling on your words.

"I'm here to see Sanji, if he's here!" you said, hoping you weren't bothering them. Zeff stared at you, trying to connect the pieces together. Were you the girl Sanji was constantly messaging throughout his shift? "He told me to wait here since it's raining outside, if that's okay..."

Yes, you were the girl Sanji was so busy swooning over. "I'll bring him out for you, take a seat," Zeff walked away from you and into the kitchen.

"Hey, Sanji!" Zeff shouted loud enough for the crew to hear. Sanji appears with a dish already prepared on his hand, wondering why the old man called out for him. "Your girl is here..."

Zeff did not miss the way Sanji's eyes lit up, there was no malintent, just pure happiness. Sanji starts making his way towards you but is stopped by Zeff. "Where are you going with that plate, boy?"

Sanji didn't bother trying to argue with the old man, simply rolling his eyes before answering. "She just got off work and she's hungry," was the only thing Sanji responded with before heading out.

The crew watched in silence, surprised both men did not instantly start a screaming match with each other.

"Yep," started Zeff. "That boy is in love, Patty. Who would've thought the day would come." The Baratie crew can only snicker.

Sanji was excited for you to try out his new dish. Sure, you have already tasted his cooking since he would prepare food for you whenever he could; but this dish was special. It was something new, and Sanji could not wait for you to try it. He saw you already sitting at a table, nervously looking around at the empty space around you.

"My lovely lady!" exclaimed Sanji, making his presence known. He saw the way your eyes lit up, immediately getting shy.

"Sanji! How are you?" You asked, watching him place the dish right in front of you.

He sat next to you, he couldn't contain his excitement. "Oh, I feel much better now that you are here," flirted Sanji, making you turn shy. "I tried a new recipe, you're the first one to try it so let me know if it tastes good."

You giggle. "Whatever you cook for me, I know will be good," you complimented him, grabbing a fork and eating away.

Sanji was nervous. He had confidence in his cooking skill, he knew he was a great cook. Hell, his friends and strangers alike would always rave about his cooking. Sanji had yet to come across someone who did not enjoy his cooking. He had food critics from around the country come and visit the Baratie just to get a taste of his cooking. To Sanji, though, he could care less about the opinions of those snobby rich critics. Your opinion meant more to him than some five star review.

You seemed to be enjoying the dish Sanji made for you, seeing as you were only focused on eating. Over the past few weeks, Sanji was able to pick up on your habits. Whenever you had a rough day at work, you would enjoy eating the dish Sanji made you in silence. Even though he loved nothing more than talking to you, he'd prefer you eat first. The first week he met you, you would skip meals even though you were a doctor. From then on, Sanji made it his mission to make you a dish whenever he had the chance.

"Hm~, this is amazing, I should make you my husband," you teased. You had no clue just how much love Sanji poured into this dish he made you. You overtook his thoughts in every department, this dish was made out of genuine care for you. He would be honored if you made him your husband.

"I have some good news!" You exclaimed, wiping your mouth with a napkin.

"Tell me all about it, love," smiled Sanji, seeing your grin widen and getting all giddy. He loved how you got excited whenever you wanted to tell him something that interested you.

"There's a new aquarium that just opened downtown," you started, moving your seat closer to him. "It has all kinds of exotic fish and beautiful marine mammals!"

"Hm, maybe I should check it out, give me ideas for what I might prepare next," joked Sanji as you gasped. You slapped his arm playfully, calling him mean.

"Well... You see," you started as you twiddled with your thumbs. Sanji noticed how you refused to look him in the face. He saw your flustered expression as you tried to figure out what to say next. "A-a co-worker of mine, he gave me free tickets to the aquarium."

Sanji's heart dropped. He? As in... Male? Has somebody else asked you out on a date already? Sanji could hear his heart slowly break but he tried keeping a calm demeanor. Right now all he wanted to do was curl up on his bed and cry.

"Him and his girlfriend broke up and he didn't want the tickets to go to waste," you scratched your head, your eyes roaming around everywhere but Sanji. He felt his heart break a little more. "Anyways, he gave me two tickets... a-and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?"

You finally look up at Sanji, your flustered expression showing all over your face. What? It had hit him like a train all of the sudden. You were asking him to go out with you to the aquarium. Sanji had prepared many scenarios in his head, but this one he did not expect. It was almost as if you were asking him out on a date.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to..." you try to hide the sadness in your voice. Sanji hadn't realized he had been blanking out for a bit, explaining why you were so hesitant.

"N-no! It's not like that!" Sanji exclaimed, desperately trying to salvage the situation. "If anything, I'm honored you would like to go with me."

Was this his chance? Sanji had dreamed of this moment since he was young. A beautiful prince finally meeting his beautiful princess, it felt like something out of a fairytale.

This was his chance. Sanji had to seal the deal.

"Love," Sanji gently held your chin with his fingers, as you tried to keep your eyes on him trying hard not to show your flustered expression. "How about we make it an official date?"

Sanji felt your body tense, you always had this reaction whenever he complimented you. He wasn't sure if it was because you valued your personal space, or because you were caught up in the moment. Regardless, Sanji loved seeing your expression when he treated you sweetly.

You nodded your head. "Yes," you whispered. "It's a date."

You were so cute showing how excited you were. It was hard for Sanji not to swoop in and plant his lips on top of yours. If only he could just lean a little closer-

"Hey, you two!" a thunderous voice erupted, making you jump from your seat. Both you and Sanji turned to look at Zeff who was holding the kitchen door open. "We're about to leave, if you guys want to stay in here, be my guest!"

With that, the old man walked away. Sanji chuckled and turned to face you, "You wanna get out of here?" he asked. You nodded your head, as both of you stood up from your seats. "First, let me introduce you to this old geezer, Zeff. I promise you, he's not as intimidating as he seems."

"He's pretty scary to me," you joked. While both of you made your way to the kitchen, your hand magically interlocked with Sanji's.

How could words explain just how absolutely stunning you looked. Sanji caught a glimpse one night of how beautiful you looked all dressed up. Usually, he would see you in your work clothes, which he didn't mind, he got to see you in that white lab coat. Although, now, Sanji was able to bask in your beauty. Seeing how you put so much effort to look presentable for your date, you look so cute!

"Darling, you look absolutely stunning," complimented Sanji, taking your hand and placing a kiss on top. He gifted you a bouquet of flowers with a letter attached to it. "Read it when you get home, love."

You shyly nodded, putting the letter on your table to read for later.

Sanji held your hand, leading you to his car and finally making your way to the aquarium. You couldn't contain your excitement on the way there, explaining to him what animal you were most excited to see. It was cute, really. Nami had told him how excited you were for this date and just how head over heels you were for Sanji.

Nami I don't know how you did it, but I better hear good things from you after tonight. read 6:27pm

Sanji couldn't help but crack a smile, seeing how overprotective Nami was of you. He had no doubt in his mind that Nami would put him in his place if he crossed the line. Although, Sanji had no plans of leaving you anytime soon.

He watched you, starstruck by your beauty as you stared at the fishes in the tank. The way you stared at the fishes with such focus, pointing to Sanji every fish you found intriguing. Your skin was glowing beautifully all thanks to the water's reflection shining onto you.

"What do you think?" you asked, turning your attention to Sanji.

"I think..." He smiled, tucking your hair over your ear, before pointing at a big fish. "I think I've actually cooked that fish at Baratie before."

You gasp before stifling out a laugh. "You're cruel," you said, your eyes locking onto him.

No, you're cruel. The way you cemented yourself into Sanji's heart. The way you made him feel like he was finally allowed to be selfish. How, no matter how many women hit on him or flirt with him, you're the only one taking over his mind.

"Look at this one!" you pointed at a Green sunfish. "He reminds me of your friend!"

"Ha! That is mosshead!" laughed Sanji, pointing at the fish alongside you. He took out his phone from his pocket to take a picture of the fish. "I have to send this to the Strawhats group chat!"

As Sanji zoomed in on the Green sunfish and took a quick picture, he felt your gaze on him. He could've sworn he saw you give him a warm smile, watching him have his own fun. Sanji puts his phone away, giving you his full undivided attention.

"Sanji..." you started. He felt a shiver run down his spine as his name rolled off your tongue. Your hands were a little shaky as you went to grab his black tie.

"L-love-!" started Sanji but before he could speak, you pulled him towards you and planted a kiss on his lips.

Sanji's body felt like it was on fire. As a young boy, he always thought he would be the first one to initiate a kiss. Now here he was, getting a kiss from you first, not that he minded. If anything, it proved to him that you were just as crazy for him as he was for you.

You pulled away, refusing to look him in the eyes and planted your head on his chest out of embarrassment. Sanji couldn't help but laugh at how cute you were, you had pulled the first move and now you were acting all shy. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and held you closely.

Two lovers enjoying their moment, blissfully unaware of the world around them.

"What are you doing here?" growled Sanji, staring at the woman sitting on his couch. It was his sister, Reiju.

"You've been ignoring my calls," she answered, unamused.

"Yeah? Well, maybe I've been ignoring them for a reason," scoffed Sanji, taking off his coat.

"Father wants to talk to you," Reiju went straight to the point. "He's been wanting to get a hold of you."

"Tell him to piss off!" yelled Sanji, heated. "That man has done nothing good for me, I don't want anything to do with him. In fact, he was the one who didn't want anything to do with me first."

Sanji swore he saw his sister's face drop, remembering the mistreatment of her younger brother.

"I know that..." spat Reiju. "But I'm here to try and spare you the trouble. If you continue to ignore his request, he will make you talk to him."

"Like I said, he has no right trying to come back into my life like nothing happened," said Sanji. "Now, if you would kindly leave me be, I would appreciate it very much."

Reiju's eyes don't leave Sanji's intense stare, sighing, before getting up from the chair and making her way out. She gives her younger brother one last look, one of shame.

"I hope things go well for you..." muttered Reiju, already out the door.

Sanji frowned. "Goodbye, Reiju."

And with that, he slammed the door.

Sanji felt like the happiest man in the entire world.

He is the happiest man in the world.

Being with you the past few weeks, Sanji had never felt more alive. You surround everything around him, whether it be from the dishes he cooks you or the music you play for him on a daily basis. Sanji could never get enough of you, you occupied every single one of his thoughts.

I got lucky, thought Sanji as he watched you dance with his friends. The bonfire was brightly lit, reflecting an orange tint on not only you but all of his friends. This was beautiful, almost like a scene taken straight out of a movie.

Sanji felt relieved that you got along well with his group of friends. He knew they were a bit much to handle, their personalities could be all over the place. He had remembered when he met Luffy at the Baratie, he was accompanied by Nami, Zoro and Usopp. It was a relatively small friend group before it expanded.

A few years ago, Sanji would've never imagined he'd have a big group of friends; ones who he considered his found family. Not that he didn't consider Zeff and the cooking crew at the Baratie his family. Zeff was his father-figure, the one who pushed him to befriend Luffy, to pursue his dreams and aspirations.

Now, here Sanji was, with his friends and lover, enjoying the beautiful night by drinking and dancing. He was content, so much so, he was sitting next to Zoro enjoying his beer. They were always at each other's throats; but tonight, they enjoyed each other's presence as they watched the others have fun.

"You sure are happier than ever before..." muttered Zoro, taking a drink from his beer. "For a second, I thought you were joking but you actually surprised me this time."

Sanji knew Zoro was referring to you.

"What can I say..." started Sanji, grabbing his lighter to light up a cigarette. "When you meet the right woman, it changes you."

Zoro chuckled. "I like her," said Zoro, watching his friends getting more and more drunk. You were struggling to hold Luffy and Nami as they leaned on you for support. The others laugh at their two friends' antics. "She doesn't take herself too seriously, plus, she's a doctor."

That being said, Luffy grabbed onto Usopp, trying to give him a hug. Both of them were drunk, and instead of hugging each other, their heads collided. You gasped and went to check on both of them to see if they were alright.

"Plus, looks like we need one," Zoro gestured to Usopp and Luffy.

Sanji laughed.

As the night progressed, most of Sanji's friends left one by one, leaving only the two of you. Both of you were sitting on the couch, exhausted from the fun night you two had.

"I think I should start heading home..." you sighed. Sanji could tell you didn't want to leave him.

He held you closer to him. "Why not just stay here for the night then, darling?" Sanji cooed in your ear, making you giggle.

You sighed, shaking your head hesitantly. "Can't, I have to do a lot of paperwork tomorrow. You know they will go crazy without me there."

Sanji felt a twinge of disappointment, but he did not let it ruin his mood. He understood how important your job was to you, he didn't want to get in the way of things. Although, by the way you acted, it didn't seem like you wanted to leave either.

You sat on top of your legs, looking at Sanji with a flustered look. You didn't really want to go, you had to make it clear to him. You leaned in towards Sanji, giving him a rather passionate kiss.

Sanji reciprocated the kiss, putting his hands on your cheeks to deepen it. His hands landed on your cheek, neck and then on your waist, putting you two in an intimate position. This felt heavenly, you roaming your hands on his chest made Sanji's whole world go up in flames.

This felt like a natural transition to something more; to sex. But who was Sanji if he didn't make sure his lady was absolutely sure about this? Sure about taking your relationship to the next level. Sanji broke the kiss, seeing as you were straddling on his lap. You gave him a cute pout, one which he found adorable.

"Ma chérie," started Sanji, placing his hand on your cheek. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

He could see your eyes full of nothing but lust and love for the man in front of you. You nodded shyly, but in a desperate manner, showing him just how much you wanted this without words.

"Sanji... I have never been more sure about something," you confirmed it for Sanji. "I'm ready."

And that's all Sanji needed to ravage you for the night. He made you feel so many emotions that night; love, passion and pleasure. He made it his mission to make this night only about you. Sanji wanted to show you how much you meant to him. Just how much your presence had changed his life. You made him feel special and loved, something Sanji had gone without for far too long in his life.

You looked absolutely beautiful in your afterglow. "I love you," you said in between moans.

Sanji felt his whole world being turned upside down. Hearing those three words were so foreign to him. His family never said that to him, in fact, emotions were not allowed in his house growing up. Now, the woman that he loved, who was sprawled out on his bed, was confessing her love to him.

Sanji felt overwhelmed by the sudden emotions that had hit him, he couldn't take it. How did you know? The words he needed to hear the most. Sanji felt tears well up, but he was too ashamed to let you see him cry. He buried his head on your neck, embracing you tightly and letting his tears run.

"I love you more, ma chérie."

"Finally, I am able to sit you down and have a proper talk with you..." the large man muttered. He had long blonde hair that reached his waist, a stupidly funny upwards mustache and thick blonde curly eyebrows.

Shit, Sanji really was his father's son. Out of all his siblings, he resembled his father the most. Sure, he had his mom's features passed down to him but there was no denying that the man in front of him was most definitely his father.

He chose not to meet his father's gaze, instead staring down on the floor. He could hear his older siblings cackling, Sanji knew his siblings saw him as pathetic.

"We want to expand Germa 66, establish ourselves as a powerful business," explained Judge, keeping his eyes on his son.

"Typical..." spat Sanji, clenching his fists. "So? What's that got to do with me?"

"I've met someone that could help me expand who can help us expand. But, she will only do it if someone marries her daughter."

Sanji was growing impatient listening to his father talk. If he was going to ask him to marry somebody else, the Judge was wrong. Sanji already had built his own life, one his father didn't help create. He had Zeff, his friend and most importantly, you.

"I didn't want to bother my sons about it, so I thought, what about Sanji?"

This man knew how to get under Sanji's skin.

"I always thought you were a failure, but it turns out, you'll actually be useful this time around," laughed Judge. "So, you're gonna go through with the wedding."

Sanji felt nothing but pure rage inside of him. Not only was the Judge embarrassing him in front of his siblings, but making a decision for him; one he did not decide.

"How dare you!" yelled Sanji, clenching his fists. "I will never go through with that marriage."

"Oh, is that so?" said Judge, mildly impressed by his son's outrage. It was almost as if he wasn't anticipating this sort of reaction from him, what a joke!

"I'm not asking you, I'm ordering you," spat Judge, crossing his arms. "If you don't, it'd be a shame if the restaurant you work in just so happened to get shut down."

No way, Judge was actually threatening to close down Zeff's restaurant. After he worked his ass off to build that place from the ground up, a place Sanji had spent most of his years in.

"You wouldn't dare...!" challenged Sanji. Even though he was putting on a tough exterior, he was feeling scared and helpless. The man who was so cruel to Sanji as a kid, the man who kicked his own son out to fend for himself. Now, he was ordering him to accept this marriage like it was nothing?

No, Sanji had vowed to get married to you, the person he truly loved. His mind, body and soul belonged to you, not this random person he never even saw.

"How about that girl you're seeing," said Judge. It was almost as if he was reading Sanji's mind. "She seems like a nice lady and I hear she's a doctor too. Would be a shame if all her hard work was crushed by a simple call I could make."

This was going too far, even for them. Sanji could hear his siblings snicker, all of them enjoying the scene that was unfolding before their very eyes. Of course they would find this amusing, Sanji's brothers never held any sympathy towards him. His eyes landed on Reiju, the only one who was not laughing. She avoided Sanji's stare, looking defeated as she watched her father strip away her brother's life right in front of his eyes.

"Just accept the inevitable, failure!" laughed Yonji, Sanji's youngest brother.

This was crossing the line, threatening Zeff and threatening you? The love of his life, the person he stayed up all night talking to about his dreams. No, Sanji couldn't risk being selfish. Not when Zeff's business was on the line alongside your career. You had busted your ass day and night, you would avoid sleeping and eating just to get where you were.

There was no other choice, Sanji was backed into a corner. All he wanted to do was cry but held the tears in, knowing his father and brothers would use that to berate him even further.

With a defeated look, Sanji could only stare into the abyss as he said, "I... will go through with it. Just don't bring them into this mess."

Sanji knew how horrible his family could be and their threats were no joke. They were willing to use their positions of power just to get what they wanted. He wasn't gonna let you fall victim to his family, even if it meant hurting you in the process.

Sanji could see your whole world crashing down before his very eyes. It took you a minute to process what he had told his friend, what he had told you.

"I'm getting married, I'm cutting ties with all of you," spat Sanji.

This wasn't like him. Sanji never spoke to his friends in such a condescending way. Sure, he got annoyed by their antics from time to time but it was never enough to justify lashing out at them. He felt his heart rip in two as he watched your eyes well up with tears.

Luffy and Nami stood in shock, outraged by Sanji's behavior. Luffy shook his head, refusing to accept what his friend was saying.

"How dare you say that!" yelled Luffy. "You're supposed to get married to her!"

Sanji was grateful that you had Luffy to defend you. You looked so broken, he couldn't bear to see you any longer. He knew he wouldn't be able to go through with it if he continued seeing you in pain. You didn't say anything, but your body language said enough. You were hoping this was a dream-a nightmare-you could get out of.

"Sanji!" Nami yelled out, Sanji looking at her. He felt the palm of her hand collide with his cheek. The stinging sensation was brutal, but it was nothing compared to the sight of an angry Nami. Sanji knows he failed her, she doesn't need to say it.

"You promised me, Sanji," cried Nami. He had promised to not hurt you, now here you were, crying.

Luffy was comforting you, making sure you were alright. You hadn't spoken a word, screamed or cried, you just stood there lifeless. Sanji knew he had broken your heart, but it was for the best. That's what he wanted to believe, that you were better off without him. You wouldn't have to suffer because of him.

Nami made her way to you, and together with Luffy, guided you away from Sanji. He couldn't help but let the tears overflow as he watched the love of his life leave him. Just when he thought he had a chance at happiness, it was just as quickly diminished.

I'm sorry, was the only thing Sanji kept repeating to himself inside his head.

A few weeks have gone by and Sanji felt like his soul was already sucked dry. Sanji wanted nothing more than to escape this cursed wedding, but no matter how he tried, he couldn't avoid it. Every waking day, Sanji was reminded how much of his life was taken away. He missed his friends, but most importantly, he missed you.

Sanji missed going to visit you at the hospital you worked at. He missed the surprise visits you do when he worked at Baratie. How much he loved cooking for you, every meal made out of nothing but his love.

Now, he was making a meal for his fiancée, Pudding, the woman Sanji was forced to marry. She was a nice girl, but she was nothing like you. You had a certain charm about you that Sanji found adorable. He just couldn't help but compare Pudding to you at every corner.

Like the meal he had made for Pudding for the picnic was nothing like what he would cook for you. You had your own special meal that Sanji was accustomed to, now he had to memorize a new one that wasn't even for you.

Sanji watched Pudding as she giggled, telling him a story that he wasn't listening to. He didn't mean to be rude, he was just so busy in his thoughts he blocked the whole world around him. He knew that the date was going fine, Pudding was enjoying herself.

For a short moment, Sanji enjoyed the scenery around him. There was a beautiful lake and the sun was out. Sanji saw from the corner of his eyes a familiar figure walking up towards the bench in front of the lake.

It was you.

For the first time in weeks, Sanji felt happiness fill all over him. He hadn't seen you in a long time, he was finally able to say hi to you and how much he missed you. It's almost as if he had forgotten what he put you through. Sanji was forced to come back down to reality, watching as two familiar friends sat down beside you on the bench; it was Nami and Luffy.

Sanji wasn't able to see your face, but he could tell by the way Nami was hugging you and the way Luffy put his arm around you; you were still hurt by the events that happened weeks prior. Sanji's heart ached as he heard from afar you sniffle and Pudding calling out for him. Good thing he was too far away to draw attention to himself, but there was a dark looming feeling that floated over his head.

One of guilt, regret and sadness all combined together. Guilt for the way he made you feel, promising not only to you but to his friend Nami, that he would never hurt you. Regret that he had to leave his father figure, his friends and you behind all in favor for this sham of a marriage.

Sanji was so sure about his decision. He didn't want anyone coming after you just to get back at him. He promised you he was doing you a favor by making you stay away from him and his cursed family.

But seeing as you cried your heart out to Nami and Luffy, Sanji couldn't help but think that he had made a crucial mistake. One that he was afraid he could never undo.

if this gets enough love, i might do a part two (─‿‿─) tag list: @hellotamatoe and @somiawn, thank you for your guys support ♡5

[angelsanarchy]

What It Cost: Samuel Lafferty x Y/N Mini Series PRT 01

Tagging: @ithinkitstimetonap @kappasbbgirl @chainsawgvtsfvck @luzclarita57 @miniisunshine @madamemaximoff06 @romanroyapoligist @thirtyratsinasuit @ethical-cain-vinnel @blueberrypancakesworld @dumbbitchdelrey @loljustignoreth4t @tvgirlsbluehair @s0ulfulll @dukesofsp00ks @mommymilkers0526 @vomiting-blood @lustkillers @s-0lar @hisemoslut @roryculkinsgf @ultrakissed @tempt-ress

Samuel moved around his parents land with his brothers, doing the last of the chores for the day before they had an early supper. They were supposed to meet some new members of the church today and according to his mother, a few new members were women looking for godly men. Samuel was already happily married to Sarah but that didn't mean he couldn't check out fresh meat that one of his brother's might bring into the family.

Samuel had always been a faithful man but he often let his eyes wander. Most of his confessionals were to repent for his fantasies he had outside of his marriage. He was reassured that his thoughts, while impure, were that of a holy man looking to bring more love and light to the community.

The moment his eyes found Y/n running around with his children, he knew he was in trouble. She was a bit younger than his wife but old enough to have already been married once and birthed a child of her own. Samuel had kept his eyes on her most of the day and listened to her story being told from his mother's mouth. She had married a Mormon man but he had died while on a mission trip leaving behind her and their 8 year old little girl.

It had been over a year since her husband had passed so she appeared to be ready for remarriage and according to his father, she would be a great addition to the Lafferty family based on her involvement in her last church.

No one had ever made such an impression on his parents before and something about the way she kept herself quiet and composed like a lady but still manage to seem like a fun-loving outsider intrigued him. He watched the way her hips moved in her dress, her bare feet running through the grass after the kids, catching them and spinning them around. Her ample breasts bounced in her top but she kept all the buttons securely fastened, not allowing him even the slightest peak.

At one point, she runs directly into him and he catches her from hitting the ground.

"I'm so sorry! I clearly wasn't watching where I was running." She apologized and he smiled.

"My kids are quite atheletic. They can run you all day long if you let them." He joked.

"I've got a pretty high stamina so I think I'll be okay." She laughed. Samuel tried not to think about all the ways he could test her stamina if he just had some alone time with her.

"I'm sure Sarah appreciates the help, as well as the other little ladies." Samuel watched her tuck her hair behind her ear and lick her lips. What he wouldn't give to just get a taste of them.

"She's amazing all on her own. I'm just happy to be around such a big, loving family. I've certainly missed this." She watched the kids playing with a smile.

"Well you're always welcome here. I know if you're looking for a herd of chaotic kids to spend time with, we have that at our place all the time." Samuel offered hoping she would take him up on the offer.

"Sarah actually said she was going to check with you about my daughter and I staying a few days until our house has been cleaned and blessed. I never like to bring my baby into a home that hasn't been properly blessed." Y/n reached out and touched Samuel's arm and it gave him chills.

"Absolutely. We would love to have you both." Samuel got a sudden burst of excitement thinking about her being under the same roof as him.

He went the whole day talking to her and playing with his children as his wife and family welcomed them into the fold. Once they had gotten home, Y/n and Sarah started to put the children to bed. He passed by the laundry room and noticed his wife was bent over the dryer, trying to retrieve something, her skirt had risen up, exposing the red panties she was wearing. He walked up behind her, gripping her hips roughly and rutting his hard cock against her ass.

She yelped and stood up straight revealing it wasn't Sarah at all. Samuel let go of her hips and stepped back.

"Y/n! I'm so sorry! I thought you were Sarah!" Samuel was sure she would slap him or yell but she chuckled, pushing her hair off her face.

"Sarah let me borrow a skirt. I got my dress wet washing the kids up." She was blushing and Samuel nodded.

"Truly, I do apologize for my actions." Samuel was still rock hard and tried to hide it with his hands.

"No need to apologize. Having a healthy sex life with your wife is a beautiful thing. All those children didn't just show up." She teased. She turned back to the dryer and Samuel noticed her skirt was tucked into her panties.

"Um...you're alittle...do you mind?" He held his hands out to her waist and she glanced at her hip. She watched his hands untuck her dress and smooth it out against her panties.

"How mortifying." She covered her face and he laughed.

"Don't be silly. We can both be slightly embarrassed tonight." She looked at his face and noticed how when he smiled with his mouth, his eyes smiled too.

"Trust me Samuel, nothing about that is embarrassing...impressive but not embarrassing." She glanced down at the front of him and he bit his lip realizing she was talking about his cock. He grinned, moving his hands from her hips and pushing some of her hair out of her face.

"Red is a good color on you." He said touching her cheek just where the blush rose.

"It's my favorite color." She replied, Samuel making a mental note.

"I think it's mine now too." He teased.

Samuel had a feeling his dreams were going to be quite interesting tonight with the thought of fucking Y/n on the dryer will she screamed his name.

[hina-hina]

Could you possibly do Ghost or König falling head over heels in a bar over fem! reader, but upon actually going to talk her they find she's mostly mute, signing and such. Though eager to try and converse with this tall masked man who sits at her booth, all pretty smiles and leaning in to listen.

Hello and thank you for requesting!!! This was a super cute senario!! I already wrote a selectively mute reader imagine, but this one is going to be slightly different!

Guys, I'm so sorry for being behind this week! I think I know what I want to do for 1K, but I think I'm going to finish with requests first! Again, sorry for ending my daily posts but hopefully this will cause more high quality work!

First and foremost, I am a Roach-Ghost bestie stan. Someone help me with writing accents!!! ::>_<::

This work is not beta read!!!

→ COD Masterlist

|| Ghost + König With a Mute S/O ||

Tags: Protective Ghost, Meet-Cute, Exchanging of Numbers, Soft Ghost, Bashfulness, Mute!Reader, Ghost knows Sign Language, Possible OOC Ghost (but I try to remain as faithful as possible), Nervous König, Awkward Flirting, Maybe OOC König,

Warnings: Pushy Guys, Alcohol mentions,

Female!Reader // Romantic

|| Ghost

Ghost very seldom finds people attractive. What even rarer is that he acts on said attraction. He doesn't want to doom anyone to be attached to him, a phantom that death clings to like an ill-fitting coat.

This evening wasn't unlike all the others that happened after a particularly taxing mission. They bar wasn't particularly crowded or nice, filled with stale air and some distant rock music playing over crackly speakers. The others seem content in their conversation, sipping their drinks and laughing as they unwind. Ghost was sat, mask pulled up slightly as he took the last sip from his class of bourbon.

While he does his scan of the room, something catches his eye. Or, rather, someone.

He sees you, sitting off in one of the booths. He finds himself wondering how such a pretty young women is alone in a place like this. Ghost finds himself unable to take his eyes off of you and maybe that's a good thing because he's watching when a (clearly intoxicated) man stumbles over to the booth.

For a moment, Ghost is sure this must be the man you came with and starts to turn away. However, he manages to catch your uncomfortable expression as you try to turn the man away with some hand gestures, to no avail.

With a gruff, "be right back," that is majorly ignored by his companions, Ghost pushes away from the bar and stalks closer to the booth. As he gets closer, he starts to hear what the man is saying and finds himself more disgusted. He is shocked you haven't cursed the man out and slapped him across the face for your trouble.

He clamps one of his hands down onto the (much smaller) man's shoulder, immediately causing him to freeze and glance over his shoulder. "Get lost," Ghost's dark tone reaches even this drunkards rationality causing him to scoff and stumble off.

Upon his departure, Ghost looks back at you who has now begun staring wide eyed at him. He clears his throat, gesturing to the empty booth across from you, "This seat taken?"

You shake your head, gesturing outward to the seat as if to say, "be my guest."

Ghost nods, slumping down into the seat and trying not to make it obvious he was avoiding eye-contact, "I hope that wasn't presumptuous of me. You must've came here with someon'. 'm... Simon. By the way."

You smile, still staring openly at him before shaking your head, signing something with your hands.

Ghost freezes for a moment. He didn't expect this sudden hiccup. He is, for once, thankful for being friends with Roach which led him to learning some sign in order to communicate with him more efficiently.

"'m sorry, love, I didn't catch that," the term slips out before he can stop it, "I know some sign, but can you go a bit slower?"

You look at him in shock for a moment that he can understand before slowing down and signing, "I'm here alone." and tacking on a sign-spelling of your name. You take special care to slow down, carefully signing each word to make sure he catches it. You ask him what he's doing here.

"I think I should be askin' you that. This isn't really the place for pretty ladies," he takes a secret pride in the blush that spreads across your cheeks, "I'm here with some friends."

You glance towards the bar where the other members of 141 have started to calm down a bit before signing, "I was supposed to be meeting someone here. Looks like I've been stood up, though."

Ghost scoffs, "If he wanted to meet you in this place, he ain't worth your worries."

Your smile twitches, "Your probably right. It's not turning out all bad though"

This causes a small, amused scoff to come from his mouth, "I'm glad I can entertain."

Before he could say anything further, a slightly tipsy Soap calls from across the bar, "Ghost! You comin'?" The others have begun paying their tabs and collecting their jackets. Ghost makes a mental note to smack him upside the head for interrupting, nonetheless.

He sighs, "Duty calls." Ghost reluctantly slides, from the booth. "You should get outta' here too. Need someone to take you home?"

You smile and shake your head, "No. I could settle for your number, though."

Ghost's lips twitch into an almost-smile before he holds out his hand for your phone, "That can be arranged."

He looks so baby girl here

|| König

It wasn't often König found himself going out to bars with his colleagues. Mostly because he found himself getting nervous in crowded places and because it wasn't really acceptable to wear a sniperhood in public spaces.

But, with some urging from his recently-acquired friend Horangi, he found himself reluctantly agreeing. Instead of his normal hood, he put on a simple, black surgical mask to try and help with his anxiety. At least this bar wasn't anywhere near crowded.

He still felt incredibly awkward sitting hunched over in the too-small bar stool. The others seemed to be having a good time at least, all of them caught up in some sports game playing on the tv above the bar. König quickly took a sip of his drink, scanning across the room before his eyes landed on you, sitting quietly off to the side with a group of friends. He pauses, stunned by your smile for a moment before he turns away quickly. Despite his blush being mostly covered by his mask, Horangi notices somehow. "You should send her a drink." If his eyes weren't covered by sunglasses, he was sure the statement would have been accompanied by a wink.

König gulped, "I couldn't..."

Horangi landed a friendly pat on the bigger man's shoulder, "Sure you could. What's the worst that could happen?"

König can think of quite a few things that can go wrong. But even then, he can't get your smile out of his head. He slowly lifts his hand, calling the bartender over before asking for some pleasant, fruity drink to be sent to your table. To you.

When the waiter came to collect the drink to bring to the table, König made a point not to look in your direction. He could already feel the hot waves of embarrassment wash down his back. He briefly thought about bolting from the bar before he realized it was too late, glancing over his shoulder as you scan the bar. Your eyes meet for a moment before König quickly turns away.

He expects nothing to come from it, that you would just laugh about the occurrence with your friends before going about the rest of your night. He figures he's wrong when he hears light footsteps approaching him from behind. You set the drink that he sat you down before sliding into the bar stool next to him. König glaces up nervously.

"I'm sorry..." König can't keep the apology from coming out. You frown slightly and shake your head, signing something with your hands. König pauses, clenching and unclenching his fist around his glass, "Oh... I don't know that much English sign..."

You nod sympathetically, thinking for a moment before gesturing to yourself before slowly fingerspelling your name. König watches intently before nodding slowly, "My friends call me König." At you curious look he laughs softly, "It means King in German. It's a... long story." He didn't really want to get into why he got his callsign.

You smile, slowly signing something along the line of "thank you" before gesturing towards the drink.

König nods, resisting the urge to sheepishly rub at the back of his neck, "Your welcome... I didn't know if you would like it or not."

In response, you smile and take a sip of the drink.

He finds himself laughing softly, turning more openly towards you before saying, "I'm glad. I'm sorry for taking you away from your friends. Your just... Really pretty."

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You start to slowly sign something else but your friends call out to you. You both turn, seeing your friends had begun to collect their things. This causes you to frown slightly, which König can't help but find unreasonably cute, before you turn an apologetic look back to König. He waves his hands dismissivly, "No, no, I-It's alright! Go and join your friends."

You take the last sip of the drink he sent you before pulling the napkin you had been using as a coaster from beneath it. You reach across the bar and grab a nearby pen, quickly squibbling down your number onto the napkin before presenting it to König. He takes it carefully, staring astonished before shrinking into himself, trying to hide a rising blush, "Danke..."

You smile before winking back at him, moving towards the bartender to pay your tab before throwing one last look at König that says, "You better text me!"

König nods, carefully folding the napkin and sticking it into his pocket before letting out a deep sigh. He can't help the small smile the comes to his face when he thinks about talking to you again.

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

⇣Taglist⇣ @scarlettproof @unabashednightmarepizza @kk00789 @cl0udii-m00n @polar2oidsworld @meepsters-world @uwu-i-purple-you @punziesworld @heaven-angels-world @crystalliebling @southernbluebellereader @nptnewr @blueoorchid

[jacks347]

Would the listeners survive a zombie apocalypse? (In my slightly sarcastic, completely subjective opinion)

Idk man, I'm bored and got time to kill in church so here we are

(Tagging this is going to be a nightmare-)

(Edit from the future: It was. It really was.)

Redacted:

For sake of my sanity this isn't all the listeners, just the ones I'm still actively keeping up with (I'll get to the others...eventually)

Angel - Solid maybe. Out of all the unempowereds, definitely has one of the highest chances. But it would take an extreme streak of luck.

Babe - No...I'm sorry but no. Would be like one of those extras that you see eaten in the first minute of a horror movie.

Sweetheart - Probably. Can a zombie detect someone invisible? Sweetheart is smart enough to survive, they'll be fine.

Darlin - Yes if they have Sam to hold them back from sacrificing themself for the "greater good". No if they're left completely to their own devices.

Lovely - Depends on the version. Pre Adam, no. Pre Inversion, maybe? Post Inversion, definitely. Hard to die to a zombie apocalypse when you're a) already dead and b) literally immortal.

Treasure - Okay, I know Treasure is the newest addition to the roster and we haven't had a lot of time to see their personality develop but as of now? Yeah...no.

Freelancer - They'll do it on -3 hours of sleep simply out of spite. Freelancer has been through enough, they're just tired. They'd survive but begrudgingly.

Honey - Honey would survive out of spite and spite alone. Would definitely have that baseball bat from The Walking Dead.

GBA:

Guardian - ...you're kidding, right?

Darling - Yeah...no. Soft bby would never.

Faithful - Possibly? That stubborn attitude and medical abilities would help but has absolutely no combat training so ehhhhh, it depends.

Paradise - If she can break a pirate crew out of space Fort Knox and wrangle Yargwynn, a zombie apocalypse is pocket change. Paradise would own an apocalypse.

Partner - I swear I'll stop bullying the new additions. Once they're worth not bullying. The man made the zombie apocalypse, I guess we're gonna find out if he survives won't we? I'm not hopeful though.

Escaped:

Asset - No one in ATW even knows how to do basic math, the only way any of them survive is through sheer force of which they might actually be successful. So maybe.

Raven - Yes but she would have a mental breakdown about it so she would not be the same on the other side.

Slash - ...seriously?

Guest - Hm, a trained vampire slayer in a zombie apocalypse, I wonder what would happen! Obviously she'd be fine.

Intern - Entirely dependent on who they're trying to keep alive. If it's just them, probably. If it's them and the rest of their merry band of misfits, no.

Future Wife - You're funny. RIP my girl, no one will know her husband broke the fuckin timeline for some pancakes.

Agent Schäfer - Once the shock and panic wore off, yeah she'd be fine. Hope she doesn't get eaten during that freeze.

("Where's Lass?" When Desmond returns for more than five minutes, come talk to me about listening to Blue Infinity)

Nomad:

Pack Mom - Definitely. We already know she's a deadly shot and wasn't afraid to shoot a living person, a dead one would be fine. She will be perfectly fine.

Lass - Yes. Not with as much overwhelming power as Pack Mom but she'd get through it. I mean...she has formal sword training, I think she'd do okay.

Little One - Probably not. Out of the original Frosthaven romances, they are the least likely to survive. They'd put up a good fight though.

Lamb - Yes and no. Physically, she'd be just fine. Mentally, I don't know if she could do it. Slipping back into that killer mindset might just drag her under.

Chester's mate - Probably not. Out of all the new Frosthaven romances, they're the most average. They'd try though.

Harlow's roommate - No. I love them but no. Not our slightly stupid boat captain.

Caltraxus' TA - Yes and they'd hate it every step of the way. Would survive completely hungover if that was an option.

The Doctor - Probably? If not by her own merit then definitely through someone else cause everyone needs a doctor in the apocalypse.

Beau's mate - Yes. Literally fought a bear once. She will be just fine.

(The lack of fandom names for Nomad's listeners saddens me greatly. And also makes my work so much harder)

This was so dumb but I had fun so :P