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reveluving · 3 months ago

Note

Phillip Graves getting jealous because his shy wife is getting flirted on by someone else but she doesn't know how to respond?? Yes please!!

(could be sfw at first but when they get back home graves pounds his wife against any surface he sees because he can't stand seeing his wife getting flirted on right in front of him)

YUUUUH I HAVE JUST THE THING!! I know, it's been AGES with these, and this one from last year but I still hope you like it! and I know you said doing the nasty back home, but I thought "man, I'm already here. might as well!" and filthy-ize(???) it even more for good measure 😘💗

Includes; soft (& slightly mean dom) & possessive graves, fingerf~cking, unprotected sex (p in v), petnames ('sugar', 'pretty girl'), licking, biting & marking, praising, dirty talking, mentions of voyeurism & exhibitionism!!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

It happens.

A lot.

The library, your favourite diner, your flower shop—anywhere.

It happens more than you can imagine, but with Phil around, it’s mostly from afar. The kind where they could only dream about making a move on you, if not for the guard dog with the sharp tongue.

Hence, when he’s not around, he worries a little for you, but he knows you can protect yourself when needed, thanks to the self-defence lessons he has given you when you were still dating.

So, imagine the unlucky bastard who thought it was a good idea to take advantage of your gracious hospitality, not knowing your husband was around.

It happened when he had finished work, but instead of heading home, he took the route where your flower shop was. Closing time was ten minutes ago so he knew you’d be waiting for him at the cafe next door, probably nursing a cup of your favourite drink or nibbling on a pastry.

He hated it whenever he couldn’t reach you on the dot or before, no matter how many times you’ve reassured him.

Reaching the neighbourhood shops was like a breath of fresh air, enjoying the sense of familiarity and the breeze as he turned the corner, passing by the cafe first.

But with a glance, his brows furrowed, seeing that you were nowhere in sight. He quickly took it as a sign that you were still working, though a thirty-minute overtime was almost uncommon of you.

He parked his convertible close to the entrance of your shop but still out of view, and for a brief moment, he caught sight of you through the window.

And just his mood lifted, ready to greet you with open arms, his smile dropped.

You were dealing with a customer, a man likely in his 30s and dressed, well, if one were told to dress formally, and they did it haphazardly, then that was exactly what it was. His body language was a little awkward, almost unsure what pose may look alluring in your eyes.

Though Phil had a knack for judging certain people by their looks, if and only if their personality rubbed him the wrong way, he didn’t have an issue thinking of the worst insults about the man, if not for the uncomfortable smile on your face.

So, leaning against the wall, away from you or the man’s sight, he listened in.

“So, your husband’s in the military, huh?” He asked, but Phil wasn’t dumb enough to think it wasn’t a sneer in disguise. Probably thought he held some rookie position, “Must be hard not having someone to hold to every night.”

Phil didn’t bother hiding the scornful look on his face.

“It’s not bad,” He immediately perked up at the sound of your voice. The gentle sound that could heal even his worst wounds, “He finds time to check up on me.”

Whether or not you were telling the truth or if you were downplaying your thoughts if his absence really did bother you, he’ll ask you later, but for now, he wanted to tell you how proud he was. Not letting some schmuck stick their nose in someone else’s business, and your marriage, no less.

“Well, sure, but look at you! I don’t know about you but if I had a girl like you? Shoot, I don’t I’d ever get any work done,” The audacity. Phil’s jaw tightened, listening to him weakly defend himself when you didn’t respond, undoubtedly displeased by his unnecessary opinion, “But that’s just me, y’know.”

“Right, um,” You turned to the row of flower pots, using the second to roll your eyes to the back of your head before showing him the bunch of bluebells in your hands, “How about some bluebells?”

The man pretended to think, “Nah, I mean, they’re cute but I’m looking for something… more,” He then leaned in, resting his arm on the counter, “A little bland, if I’m being honest with you.”

You forced a smile, but Phil, oh Phil.

He wasn’t smiling.

Who was this man, no, who was this kid to not see how uncomfortable you were with his god-awful ‘flirting’ skills and judge your taste in your very own store?

“That’s fine, I’m sure we can find something else.” Oh, that pitiful tone of yours. Just how long has this man been bothering you?

You bit down a sigh, placing the bluebells back into their pot before walking back to the back of the counter. You knelt, possibly looking for something else, though Phil wouldn’t blame you if you were doing so to drown him out for a bit.

Phil had listened long enough. Moving off the wall, he clicked on the lock button of his car keys. He spun his keys on his finger as he entered the shop, the rattling sounds prompted the man to follow his figure. His eyebrows knitted further, more so when Phil casually stopped right in front of the counter as if used to coming over.

His eyes darted from Phil’s attire; simple yet sophisticated, and how he carried himself, then the convertible behind him. The sudden insecurity forming in the guy’s mind was a no-brainer.

You must’ve heard the extra pair of footsteps and the keys, “I’ll be right with you!”

He didn’t respond, opting to eye the man—Chad, which he would later learn—with full of judgement. The latter flinched when their eyes met, though he tried to act cool soon by clearing his throat.

But the stare may have been too much for him, as he asked, his voice less confident than before, “Do I know you?”

“You tell me.” He responded loud enough for you to hear, and just as he hoped, you straightened, visibly lighting up at the sight of him.

“Phil!” You cheered, already forgetting about the customer as you rushed over to your husband for a hug, “I thought you wouldn’t be back until tonight?”

He shrugged, wrapping one of his arms around you while he caressed the apple of your cheek with his free hand, “Change o’plans. Drove here as fast as I could.” He gave you a lazy smile, more so when you jutted out your bottom lip, pouting at his statement.

“Phil, you know how I feel about you speeding home,” You sighed, despite leaning into his touch, “But I’m glad you’re back. Safe.”

You couldn’t stay mad at him, not with that cheeky smile of his before he pressed his lips onto yours. You could feel the upturn of his lips when you yelped, and he didn’t even bother hiding his amusement—his delighted huff when you returned the kiss.

But before he could feel you, before he could melt into your hands as they held his face, you broke the kiss, almost hiding in his chest for a moment before motioning to the man watching—his face that of panicked realization.

“Phil—Customer…”

Ew.

Well, at least he learnt he had messed with the wrong married woman.

Phil suddenly grinned, and a painfully fake one, judging by the lack of positive emotion, or any emotion in his eyes as he looked at Chad.

“Y’here for an arrangement?”

“U–Uh, no. I’m just… looking around. Thinking of buying one for my, uh, girl.”

The man wasn’t dumb enough to think the smirk on Graves’ face wasn’t the face of mockery. A man who has done enough interrogations to know just how much he was bullshitting.

“Huh, Y’must be lookin’ for a special one if you’re makin’ my girl workin’ overtime,” He glanced at the clock just hanging by the door, his arm not leaving you once, “Y’sleepin’ in the dog house or somethin’?”

“Phil.” You hissed, and ever so cutely, might your husband add. You briefly apologised to Chad, even if you wanted nothing more than to send him on his way.

“Sorry, sorry,” If you noticed his lack of sincerity, you didn't call him out on it. Graves held his hand out, the corner of his lips twitched when Chad took a step back, “Graves. Commander and CEO. Proud husband of this pretty girl right here.”

Chad accepted, albeit hesitantly, nearly squawking when Phil purposely squeezed his hand. He had a feeling he wouldn't mind breaking his arm if it weren't for the obvious repercussions and well, you being there.

“Mr Thompson was just looking for a bouquet for his girlfriend. It might take a minute so you can hang around for a bit while I help him.” You explained, standing close to your husband, now that he was with you.

“Or,” Phil spoke, and you should’ve suspected something was up just by his tone, despite his so-called generous offer, “I help him look for what he needs, while you go ahead and close up, get your bag, lock the back room and all.”

You raised your brows, “Phil, are you sure?”

He hummed, “C’mon. ‘Bout time I put my flower knowledge into good use. And who knows?” He glanced at Chad, sharply. With his eyes on the unwanted customer, he leaned to your side, as if whispering, despite making sure Chad heard him loud and clear, “It’s probably nothin’ more than a lil’ trouble in paradise. Nothin’ I can’t sort out, man to man.”

You thought for a moment. You had your suspicions when Chad stopped by the same time your shift ended. And while you wouldn’t have minded, he wasn’t exactly helpful about his request either. Giving you doubtful answers such as his supposed girlfriend’s favourite colour or the occasion.

Plus, you were a little eager to be away from Chad, even for a short while.

In the end, you nodded, much to Chad’s horror.

“Okay, I just need to organize a few boxes in the back,” You squeezed Phil's arm, “Thank you. I won’t take long.”

Sliding his hand down your arm, he raised your hand to his lips before letting you go.

“Take all the time y’need, pretty girl,” And as soon as you were out of sight, his voice dropped, the upturn of his lips now in a manner that Chad knew this was going to be anything but a quick talk amongst men about which apology flowers were the best, “Take all the time y’need.”

His smile was nowhere to be seen as he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched Chad pinching a leaf of random flower in the guise of interest.

But by the third flower, Graves had enough, surprising Chad with his authoritative tone.

“Y’just gonna stand there and ruin my wife’s flowers or are y’goin’ to buy somethin’ and get out?”

“I’m…” Chad began but Phil didn’t give him the satisfaction to explain himself. He didn’t need to.

“Look. I’m really fuckin’ tired, and my girl is, too, but I’m sure you’re too busy trying to look down her dress to notice that.”

“That’s—”

“Cut,” He didn’t even need to raise a single finger as the tone he normally used on his team on a bad or serious day was enough to shut the man up, “... the bullshit, alright? Y’can buy all the flowers you want to impress her, save a puppy as soon as you see her coincidentally walk by at the park. Fuckin’ pick-me.”

The impatient smile plastered on his face told Chad everything about the commander’s patience.

“I know a degenerate when I see one.” Chad knew not to trust how calm Phil sounded, “And I know she can defend herself just fine. Hell, I taught her everything she needs to know t’deal with boys like you. But I can tell y’one thing; I’ll do so much worse than what she’s already capable of.”

Graves’ heavy footsteps sounded like a disaster waiting to happen in mere seconds before he stood in the middle of the shop.

“Might wanna get out while y’can.” He gritted out, and Chad didn’t waste a second to find out what would’ve happened if he didn’t that very instance, whether it was from you or your husband.

You returned just in time to find Graves appreciating the tulips, though, unbeknownst to you, he was also slightly miffed that some were stained by Chad’s hands alone.

“Oh, did he find what he needed?”

“‘Guess so. Took off as soon as he figured it out. He didn’t buy anythin’ though,” He swiftly carried the bag for you, pulling you in for a kiss on your forehead, “Sorry he wasted y’time.”

“That’s alright,” You grinning, not expecting him to apologize over that, “I just need to keep the flowers in the back. Mind helping me?”

Of course he didn't mind.

He moved with you, carrying much more stock to the cool room where the unsold flowers were kept. During his second run, he lightly tapped you on the ass, stealing a kiss before telling you to lock the register instead. You did just that, carefully organizing the cash and coins before locking it.

Phil worked with ease, pushing necessary pots and displays to one side and pulling the blinds down like the tasks were at the back of his hand. But he didn’t draw the blinds close all the way, though, leaving a small opening at the bottom of the windows where you and Graves could see the sun shining through and the feet of passers-by.

But unbeknownst to you, he locked the front door and with great care, avoided the usual click.

He shamelessly glanced at you at every possible moment, watching you sit prettily as you focused on your task behind the counter.

Once his side was done, he approached you, stannding in between your legs as soon as you locked the register.

“All done.” You smiled, crinkles forming in your eyes.

“Perfect.” He opened up his arms, closing the space in between as you embraced. But just as you basked in the wholesome reunion, you froze up, eyes wide at a familiar tent prodding your stomach. He didn't bother concealing his amusement, his smile grew at your giggles, showering one side of your face with kisses to hear more of you.

“Thought he'd never leave.” He murmured against your skin with zero shame, which prompted you to pull back.

“You threw him out?” You asked in disbelief.

“He threw himself out,” He shrugged, not exactly lying but telling you the whole truth either. He cooed at your little frown, even holding his hand up in a saluting manner, “I’m serious. Scout's honour.”

“Were you even a scout?”

“Nope,” He responded without missing a beat, “But I do know how to tie a knot.”

“Phil!” You smacked his arm, but it did nothing to deter him, “I wasn't even gone that long.”

“Four minutes was all I needed.” He brushed his nose against your neck, looping his arms around you. You couldn't help but melt, sighing but more so in contentment than disappointment. Granted, you were anything but the latter, but who knows where your business would be if Phil did, well, whatever to your customers the way he did to Chad.

“He was bothering ya.” You knew it wasn't a question and there was no point denying it, so you hummed in confirmation.

“Kinda figure that out after a while,” You shrugged, though you didn't want him to worry either, “I, uh, had my suspicion as soon as I asked him what he was looking for.”

“Yeah? What did he really tell ya?”

“Just said he wanted some pretty flowers for a pretty lady, and then,” You mimicked the awkward eyebrow-wiggles he did to you, much to Phil’s amusement and disdain, “And then said no to all of my suggestions.”

Phil’s tutting was akin to a Southern mother's, being his blood and all. That, and he was having second-hand embarrassment—to think Chad thought he'd have a chance using that line on you.

Hell, on anyone.

“It was getting a little embarrassing, honestly.” You couldn't help but snort, only for your smile to grow when he, too, expressed his amusement.

‘A little’ was putting it lightly.

“You and me, sugar.”

You leaned your weight against him just as he did against the counter, figuring that this was one of those days where he needed to just relax. Be around you as if you exuded great energy, and in his eyes, you were.

A far cry from the more despicable chaos he and his partnering team have to deal with for a living.

You brushed your fingers along his stubble, smiling to yourself at the familiar, prickly sensation. Ever the perceptive man, he angled his face so your lips were pressed on his instead of his cheek.

It was much needed for the both of you as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Though, you tried not to go too far with it, your nerves rising as your eyes flitted to the door, despite Phil’s breathy reassurance that he locked it.

Noticing your hesitance, he broke the kiss to rest his head in the crook of your neck. His warm breath tickled you, more so when his hands languidly moved up and down your body.

But then, his hands didn't stop moving upwards.

He swiftly pulled down the straps of your dress, trailing his lips along your shoulder. Though the dress wasn't fully removed, the way you haphazardly held the front of it against your chest, amplifying your cleavage which was just as alluring as you were topless.

“Phil!” You choked out, and yet, he continued. Licking across your newly exposed skin with the tip of his tongue. Starting from the collarbone, down to your tits when he squeezed your breasts together, and then, sucking on the plush at random spots. Eager to leave a mark wherever he could with shameless sounds of suckling and pops, “Here?!”

If the way your hand shot up to his hair, massaging his scalp and pulling his head close instead of pushing him away was anything to go by, he knew dead set on making you scream.

He took a step back, encouraging you to stand up before hooking his arms under your ass, lifting you effortlessly to seat you on the counter.

His bulge was snug against you, thanks to his taller stature. The way his hands slid down your thighs prompted you to wrap your legs around him, despite the growing warmth in your face at the lewd display. There was something about the sliver of possibility of being watched that raised both your worries and anticipation, despite the opaqueness of the cream-coloured window blinds.

Plus, the shop wasn't exactly soundproof either.

He leaned forward, forcing you to lie back on the surface. His lips hadn't slowed down since, enjoying your squirms and breathless moans as he peppered your neck in kisses before raising his head.

“My wife's a beaut, isn't she?” He whispered against your temple, rolling one of your tits in between his fingers before sliding his hand down to your thigh, squeezing the plush of it, “Got these boys actin’ stupid around ya.”

You gasped when his hand slid further under your skirt. He toyed with the waistband of your panties, teasingly pulling them up and wedging the lacy material in between your sopping pussy.

“Even I can't resist her sweet lil’ charm,” He purred, pulling your panties to the side and then bunching the hem of your dress for him to delight in all its glory, “Y’know that, don't cha?”

He swiped two of his fingers across your lips. Even the softest touch elicited the most delicious squelch he had ever heard.

He hummed in approval, teasing you to his heart's delight, “But she's also so, so dirty, deep down,” He made sure you made the slightest mess, letting your juices drip bit by bit, down to your tight hole and the counter itself, “And this—this is only f’me to see, right, pretty girl?’

He captured your lips with his before you could even muster out a breathless ‘yes’, the kiss ending just as quickly as it happened before tapping your lips with his fingers.

You didn't need to be told, but that didn't mean it was any less embarrassing. But his approving hum at your first, kitten-like lick was encouraging. It had you chasing after his praises, verbal or otherwise.

His cock was downright throbbing, wishing it was his cock you were eagerly drooling on instead of his fingers, but who was he to say he wasn't enjoying the view in hand either?

Once he was sure they were wet enough, he slid them out of your mouth, crudely enjoying the string of saliva for a second before dropping his fingers to your cunt.

He mirrored your parted lips, watching your face scrunch up as he eased in one finger. Your whimper was pitiful, and the slightly wicked side of him couldn’t help but coo at you almost condescendingly, knowing you could handle something much bigger than his mere finger, even if they were much thicker than yours.

He set a torturing pace, taking in the way your body moved, rolling your hips in hopes you’d have his fingers knuckles-deep in you. The way you half-heartedly covered your face with one hand was endearing, probably too overwhelmed by his unapologetic stare.

Then, he cranked up the speed with two fingers, greedy for more of your juices leaking out each time he moved in and out. And by the time you were clenching around three fingers, he was ruthless with his pace.

Unforgiving.

He looked euphoric just from bringing the pleasure to you, tipping his head back as he listened to you struggling to hold back your moans and whines whenever he pulled out to tease and slap at your clit.

“Colour?” As casual as he tried to sound, he was just as breathless as you were.

“Green…” You whined, pleading him to continue, even if it felt like you were overstimulating, “Phil, please… Please…!”

You didn’t have to repeat, for he amped up his pace and chased after the climax when the pitch of your voice heightened, arching your back like you weren’t sure if you wanted him to carry on or push him away when you were getting close.

He didn’t falter, nipping on your shoulder just a tad harder just before you trembled, cumming and clenching hard around his fingers. He cupped your face with his other hand, soothing you from your high with praises and kisses.

“Such a good girl, my good girl. Always so brave f’me, makin’ the sweetest faces. None of those boys gets t’see what I see.”

It wasn’t long before he carefully slid his fingers out, comforting you each time you whimpered or twitched.

Opting to continue caressing your face, he took the chance to snag a taste of you. Savouring the one taste he had been dying for each time he was away for work.

But he didn’t finish it all. As much as he wanted to, he needed to save the rest for his cock, itching to have a mere feel of your wetness.

Speaking of, he was straining, standing proud and curved a little as the tip, just a hint of red, nearly touched his belly button as soon as he pulled his trousers down. It yearned to feel you, tight and hot, his extra-vulgar actions were the results of restraining himself.

He shuddered a little—it was entrancing, holding one of your legs up for him to brush his lips against and seeing his cock slide up and down your pussy lips.

Even after prepping you well, it felt like his cockhead was breaching your walls. You let out a breathy sigh, tilting your head at the upside windows, tensing up at the sight of passersby’s feet at the foot of the glass.

“What do y’think, pretty girl?” He murmured against your leg, still pushing into you, “Do y’think that Thompson guy’s around, wonderin’ why the window’s closed while the car’s still out there?”

The way your head tilted back against the counter in ecstasy, the last rays of the sun shining down on your skin. Even with the AC still on, it stopped neither of you from sweating. The thinnest layer of perspiration, especially gathering along your throat, down to the valley of your breasts—oh, what a shame it would be if he didn’t have even a single lick of it.

And he did just that, leaning in to give one of your tits a teasing lick.

Those half-lidded eyes, that drunken smile—oh, he was losing it.

He felt like the most blessed man in the world.

“Eyes on me, bunny. He can listen all he wants but this—it’s you and me.”

And it wouldn’t take long for you to reach your peak, Phil kept his eyes on your facial expression because if it wasn’t the sexiest look he had ever seen before he, too, cums with you. In you.

Holding himself up with one hand beside your head, he used the other to caress your face, allowing you all the time in the world to catch your breath. But truth be told, he had fucked the senses right out of you.

“You alright?” “Mmm…” Your murmurs had him chuckling as he carefully gathered you in his arms.

“Can y'walk? Or do I have to carry you? Because y'know I don't mind either way.” Not especially the latter. He may not be as buff as some of his team but he feels good being able to prove the assumptions wrong. So wrong.

You shook your head, and though none of you were even certain what your answer was, Phil somehow understood, but not before letting you collect yourself for as long as you needed. There was no need to rush. Not now.

“Alright, pretty girl. I can do that.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 6 months ago

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A GLIMPSE OF US. ( House of the Dragon x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: King Aegon ii Targaryen x Queen Consort! Wife! Reader prompt: After the Dance of the Dragon's, you and Aegon find fragments of your old self's. word count: 1, 298+ words

After the Dance of the Dragon’s many things had changed, and it was not just who sat on the Iron Throne. Aegon had been burnt and broken, confined to a heavily cushioned wheelchair when he left his chambers or in his chambers. You truly tried to be supportive, hand feeding him the Milk of the Poppy when the pain grew worse, occasionally changing bandages with guidance of the Maester’s, offering kind words of encouragement.

But, even at times you could not handle his temper. He was just..so cruel at times. He’d rant and rave, spouting out insults and picking apart pieces of you that he knew would purposefully hurt you. You always did your best to mask your hurt and tears at his cruel words. But, you could not deny that it hurt.

He was no longer the man you had married years ago. The man that you would drink wine and jest around with during Court, or the man that used to offer rides on Dragonback despite your fear for heights. Or would kiss you despite just how flustered it made you in front of others.

He was just..He was cold, cruel, and at times more of a vengeful man with your husband’s face than your actual husband. You just hoped that in some way that you could possibly break through his shield of vengeance and see just a fragment of the man that you love once again. Even if it was just a lighthearted jest or a crack of a smile. Just a sign that he was still in there.

Fiddling your wedding ring out of habit, you watch as the Maester’s phasened the thick metal braces, the cold metal straightening out his broken legs. After a particularly bad temper tantrum of him threatening everyone in Court to the Wall and back, you feared something else triggering him again. You were tired and just hoping for some peace. Cowering slightly behind a wooden chair, you watch as they hand him two metal crutches, instructing him how to use the crutches to stand.

“You look worried.” Aegn comments, his voice cold.

“I just do not wish for you to be upset tis’ all, iif those crutches do not work ” You weakly try to brush him off, “Do not fret over me.”

“Then do not look at me like that then. I am not some pathetic cripple that needs to be coddled.” He snaps back, making you cower.

It wasn’t that you were particularly scared of him, more so you were just trying to avoid another useless argument. Looking over to the Maester’s, the two older men looking a little unsure, only worsening the churning in your gut. You knew that if those leg braces and crutches did not sate his desire for normalcy, he’d mostly likely have the Maester’s killed and yell at you until his face was red. Chewing on your bottom lip, you shift your gaze back onto him, watching him like a hawk.

“It will take time until you can walk with ease once more, your grace.” The Maester explains, “You will need to practice.”

“I do not need to practice. I am fine.” Aegon snaps back, his voice coming out more of a growl.

“Aegon, just⎯”

“Have you gone deaf? I said I am fine.” Aegon bellows, “I do not need you all to fret over me!”

Resisting the urge to strangle him right then and there, you as he shakily stands up, leaning heavily on the crutches. Raising a brow as he manages to stand upright for the first time in months. You had almost forgotten just how tall he was, having gotten used to him being bedridden or wheel around in a wheelchair. Leaning heavily on his crutch, he goes to take a step toward, when he collapses onto the floor in a heap. Like a toddler tripping over air.

Instantly covering your mouth with your hand, it took everything to not let out a snicker at the sight of him. A tiny part of you worried for his well being, and another part of you happy the universe had gotten revenge on him for being such a cunt for months. Gathering enough of your bearings, he props himself up just enough to shoot you and the Maester’s an icy glare.

“Not a fucking word.” He sneers, “I swear to the Seven⎯”

“I did not say a thing.” You blurt out, attempting to defend yourself.

“Y/n!” He snaps back, his voice a little whiny.

Shooting you a mix of a scowl and a pout of displeasure, you accidentally let out a snicker at his face, the look resembling that of a grumpy cat. Turning your head away as giggles managed to slip out, it had been a long time since you had laughed⎯truly laughed about something.

“Tis’ not even that funny.” He scowls, “I fell. You should be tending to me.”

“You laughed when I fell down the stairs just a fortnight ago. Tis’ only fair I can crack a hint of a laugh at you falling.” You argue, standing up for yourself in months.

“Tis’ different!” He argues, his scarred cheeks flushed a soft pink from anger and embarrassment.

“Not a chance! Tis’ the same thing. Do not pout, Aegon.” You counter back, a soft giggle escaping at the end.

Covering your mouth with your hand, you attempt to stop yourself from bursting into another fit of giggles, trying to regain your bearings. You did love him, but since the war had ended this had to be the most humorous thing to happen and a part of you wished for more of it. Even if it was at his dispense. Turning your head back to him, as smiling at you, not a fake one or forced but a genuine smile. Cracking a smile at the look on his face, you tilt your head to the side.

He looked handsome, scars and all like this. Even that horrid little mustache that he had taken to growing out.

“What?”

“Been a long time since you smiled. I forgot what it looked like.” He comments, his voice more soft.

“I could say the same of you.” You counter back, “I thought your face was stuck in a permanent scowl.”

He goes quiet, just staring at you for the longest of times.

What? Was there something on your face?

“Seeing you smile once again, it makes me feel as though the war never happened.” He whispers, “Keep smiling for me.”

----

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

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thebenjiblackwoodexpress · 3 months ago

Text

Delicate Part. 5

Gwayne Hightower x Reader

Description: Hoping to sway her heart to him, Gwayne gifts Y/N with an heirloom of House Hightower. Gwayne displays his willingness to defend his lady when a Lannister lord insults her at a banquet. When Y/N, Gwayne, and Alicent go too far into their cups at the Tourney banquet, Gwayne makes sure the object of his affections makes her way back to her chambers safely.

Writer's note: Thank you to everyone who follows this series! I really appreciate all your lovely comments and the support for the ace rep, I just really wanted to see myself in a character. I'm so glad it resonates. And a special thanks to @just-some-random-blogger for your iconic commentaries!

Warnings: Female reader. Touch averse and Asexual reader.

As Gwayne pushed back the tissue paper of the box he was holding, a sense of doubt entered into his thoughts: that his gift might seem presumptuous to Lady Y/N. That it might displease her. Having shared his feelings about her friend with Alicent, she had been excited at the thought of her dear brother and best friend forming a union that would mean she would not have to part from either of them. Despite his attempts to temper her excitement by reminding her that the likelihood of Y/N accepting his suit or returning his feelings for her was minimal at best, he was unable to entirely repress his own joy at the picture that Alicent was painting of their potential future.

To have his two favourite ladies always with him would turn the ghostly halls of his ancestral seat into a paradise he scarcely dared to imagine becoming a reality. Still, her increasingly affectionate gestures towards him made him tentatively hopeful that such a future was not altogether impossible. He resolved to try and win her love if he could. With these thoughts in mind, he had sought to find a way of expressing his hope that she might accept his suit for her to become his wife and Lady Hightower one day. After first running the idea past Alicent, he had sent a raven back to Oldtown, requesting that one of his mother’s emerald encrusted necklaces be sent to him, forthwith. By making good on his previously expressed hope that the three should all wear green to the opening banquet, he hoped also to convey his earnest wish to Y/N that she would, one day, not only wear the colours of his House, but also belong to it.

Walking towards the library, where he knew he would find his love, he could not quash his fear that she would reject his gift outright, either frightened or displeased by his suit. He did not wish for her to feel that by accepting his gift she was also obligated to accept his love, he only hoped that she would permit him to try and win her love. This gift was intended to be a subtle indication of his hopes, without overwhelming her with outward displays of affection, which he knew would only serve to make her uncomfortable.

Upon entering the library, he immediately spotted Y/N ensconced within a dark corner of the room, the candles bolstered to the walls casting an ethereal glow across her features, which had him momentarily arrested in place by her beauty. Recollecting himself, he strode towards her and met her smile with his own, as she looked up from her book, hearing him approach.

“Ever studious. I wonder what you can be reading so intently. Plotting how to best me at the upcoming tourney, no doubt.”

Y/N laughed at this, before indicating that he sit in the chair next to her.

“What brings you to my sanctuary, Ser. Should not you be terrorising the other knights with your charm?”

Gwayne smiled affectionately at her, enjoying the joke that she had continued since they met, which had him secretly hoping she really did find him charming. Nevertheless, he sought to invest his voice with the levity that her tone suggested.

“Alas, there are plenty more hours in the day for me to do so, but I must first terrorise you with my charm.” He smirked at her, a glint in his eye, in an attempt to seem less nervous than he really was. Removing a deep green, velvet box from his tunic, he tentatively held it out to her.

“May I entreat you to accept this humble gift, in the hope that you will wear it at this evening’s banquet?”

A quizzical look passed over Y/N’s features, but she nonetheless accepted the box, carefully opening it and removing the papers that protected his family heirloom. Y/N emitted a small gasp at the beauty of the necklace she held in her hands, before her eyes snapped up to meet Gwayne’s uncharacteristically anxious expression.

“Gwayne, this is beautiful.”

Gwayne released a breath he had been holding, relieved that she should think so, before she continued.

“But I cannot accept such a gift.”

His heart momentarily stuttered before plummeting, as he feared she was rejecting his suit for her love outright, believing his gift to be presumptuous. He was relieved when she explained.

“It is far too beautiful and precious to be given to me, no doubt it is a Hightower heirloom.”

“The beauty of the trinket, I think, should befit that of the wearer.” His mouth upturned and his heart swelled as a light blush dusted her cheeks.

“You did promise that we should all wear green for this evening’s banquet, I distinctly remember. I would be honoured if you would accept this token. Both Alicent and I wish for you to accept it.”

Holding her gaze so that she would know that he really meant for her to accept the gift, whilst simultaneously attempting to convey the love he felt for her, in his eyes, he anxiously awaited her answer.

Her returning smile, as she clipped the chain around her neck, had his heart soaring at her acceptance of his gift and the image of her wearing his ancestral heirloom.

“I will gladly wear it then, if it so please you and Alicent. Thank you, Gwayne. It’s beautiful.”

Gwayne could not but think that the wearer was far more beautiful than the necklace she admired, but he rejoiced that she had accepted his gift and he grew hopeful that she would, one day, also accept his love.

Y/N placed her hand upon the cool chain around her neck, admiring how the green gems glittered and complimented the emerald gown she had chosen to wear at that evening's banquet. She had worn the gown partly as a homage to her and her two friend's constant refrain that they should all wear green to match one another. More than that, it was also her way of expressing her love for them and her intrinsic sense of affinity with their house. House Hightower's motto, 'We Light the Way', well expressed how much her friends had become a light in her own life, amidst the shadows of Court life. Before she had befriended Alicent and Gwayne, she had felt entirely alone, both within Court and within her own family. Now she was scarcely alone, always either accompanied by Alicent or Gwayne or both.

She had come to particularly value Gwayne's attentiveness, always eager to listen to anything she had to say and considerate whenever you spoke of her troubled family life or her fears for the future. His gift of a Hightower heirloom that morning had moved her greatly, seeming to suggest that he valued her friendship as much as she did his. She could not deny that she also hoped his gift might intimate that he harboured stronger feelings towards her, that it might symbolise his desire that she should one day join his and Alicent's family; the only family she could ever envision belonging to.

She quickly pushed the thought aside, rebuking herself for her presumptuousness and foolishness. Whilst she had found herself quickly falling in love with Gwayne, she resolved that she could not hope to ever marry him, even should he desire such a match. She would never be able to fulfil the expectations of intimacy required of marriage, the thought alone causing her intense anxiety. She would merely have to be content with loving him quietly, without imposing her feelings on him, when she could not hope to be the marriage partner he, no doubt, sought. The idea of him marrying another caused an intense feeling of pain to constrict her chest, but she knew that she had no right to such a feeling, and strove to squash it as it rose.

A knock at the door disturbed her from her thoughts and she called for whoever had knocked to enter.

"The Hightowers await your presence, my Lady."

A degree of nervousness seeped into her heart at the thought that Alicent and Gwayne might not like her dress, might think it too transparently a symbol of her emotional affinity to their House. Nonetheless, she would not leave them waiting, and she quickly turned on her heel to meet them at the entrance to her father's apartments. With trepidation, she entered the main hall to meet her friends and her heart was warmed to see them both dressed in green, matching each other.

Gwayne had spent the rest of the day at the training yard, after Y/N's acceptance of his gift, in a half-dazed state of happiness. The thought of her wearing his mother's necklace, the heirloom of his House, led him into potentially dangerous fantasies of her accepting him as her husband and becoming the future Lady Hightower. Perhaps he could convince his father to allow Alicent to return to Oldtown, so that the three could live together. He tried not to allow himself to be carried away by such visions of future happiness, but Y/N's sweet acceptance of his gift had him struggling to contain them. He did not believe that she yet fully understood the import of the gift from his side, symbolising as it did, for him, his hope that she would one day become part of his family. That she would be his wife. However, he hoped that her acceptance of the necklace could yet be a positive sign of her warm feelings towards him, and that he may yet hope to further cultivate them into a love like he bore for her.

Ahead of the tourney, set to begin the next day, Gwayne had dressed in a green velvet tunic. Alicent had similarly dressed in a silk, green dress, both in the shade of the lights of the Oldtown watch. As they made their way through the Keep towards Y/N's apartments, he could not but hope that she, too, would be wearing the colours of his House, and that he could hope to see her wearing his gift. The very thought of such a divine image left his stomach in knots, and he could scarcely conceal his nerves from Alicent, as she looked up at him with a knowing smile. They had barely been waiting a moment within the entrance hall to Y/N's apartments before she emerged in a forest green, velvet gown, the exact shade of his House colours, his mother's necklace glittering against her throat. The sight of her beauty, and the vision it conjured of her as the future Lady Hightower, had him opening and closing his mouth several times. A hit to his arm from Alicent reminded him that he must look like a fool in front of the lady he so wanted to impress.

"I'm so glad you decided to wear green, too, Y/N. We match perfectly!" Alicent cried, clasping her hands together delightedly, before embracing her friend.

At Y/N's sweet smile in both of their directions, Gwayne was once again at a loss for words, before a slight fall in her expression, perhaps at his silence, had him recalling himself.

Holding her gaze in the hope of conveying the truth of his feelings for her, which he dared not yet vocally pronounce, he addressed her with a level of adoration he did not attempt to conceal from his voice: "You are a vision, my Lady. I should like to always see you wearing the colours of my House."

Her light blush at his words lit a spark of hope within him that his feelings for her could one day be reciprocated. If he could convince her that he only wanted her, not anything she had been led to believe would be expected of her from marriage by her father and the Court, he could yet hope for his vision of her as his wife to become a reality. Her presence before him in his House colours, wearing his mother's necklace, seemed to him to be a happy harbinger of such a future.

Holding his free arm out to her, with more confidence now, knowing she would accept it, he felt a degree of contentment he had never before experienced, as he led his sister and his beloved to the banquet.

As the Hightower siblings and Lady Y/N entered the main hall of the Red Keep, a slight hush fell across the hall at the sight of them atop the stairwell. The matching shades of their dress, and their united front, arm-in-arm, recalled to the minds of many at Court tales of the lights of the Hightower watch burning green, when called to action. The three descended the steps and approached the end of the table reserved for the Hightowers. Gwayne was forced to slow his pace when he noticed that his love had stopped walking, tugging lightly on his sleeve.

He sought to ascertain the reason for her hesitant expression, as she looked between himself and Alicent.

"Should not I sit elsewhere. I am not a Hightower."

Realizing the reason for her hesitation, even as he quickly refuted it in his own mind, since she was already so deeply embedded within his own heart, he sought to reassure her.

"Not in name, but you are our dearest friend and we should be honoured by your presence at our table." He was quickly supported in this by Alicent nodding and pulling Y/N's arm forward, affectionately.

Rewarding him with a beatific smile, Y/N allowed herself to be led to their end of the table by Alicent, as Gwayne held a chair out, first for his sister, and then for his beloved. He held her hand and gaze longer than was strictly necessary, as he led her to her seat, before he seated himself in between his love and his sister.

The evening turned out to be one of the most enjoyable Gwayne had ever passed at a Court proceeding, as he spent the majority of it laughing with his dear sister and lady love at the antics of the Court's lickspittles and sycophants. Gwayne had both ladies doubling over with laughter at his description of Tyland Lannister's 'bizarre mating dance', as the fool continued to try and capture Alicent's attention. As the Lannister approached their table, Gwayne ineffectually gestured for the ladies to quiet their laughter, as they continued to break into it every time they made eye contact with each other. A condition made worse by the amount of wine Gwayne and Y/N had consumed, much to Alicent's disapproval.

Ostensibly unperturbed by their ill-concealed mirth, Tyland Lannister confidently swaggered up to their table, until he stood directly opposite Alicent. Holding his hand out to her, he pushed his chest out as he asked her to dance, seemingly assured of her ready acceptance. Gwayne sensed the danger when Alicent made eye contact with him and knew it was all over when she turned to Y/N, as they all broke out into laughter again.

Alicent was the first one to rally herself into some semblance of respectability, wiping her eyes of the tears that her laughter had elicited.

"I am sorry, my Lord, to have to decline your kind offer. I will not be dancing with anyone this evening."

Tyland's expression darkened as he surmised that he was the cause of their inordinate mirth. Realising that Tyland still stood before their table, a threatening presence before his sister, Gwayne decided to take control of the situation, and redirect his anger towards him.

"The lady has declined your offer, my good man. Be so good as to move away from the table, you are blocking the ladies' view of the dancing."

He said this with a light, but firm tone, which made clear this was not a request.

Growing irritated at the Lannister's continued presence before her friend, who she could see was becoming uncomfortable under his gaze, Y/N lost her cool.

"It appears that the lady does not care to partake in your particular dance, Ser. Did you not hear her decline?"

At the emphasis Y/N placed on the word 'dance', Alicent and Gwayne broke out in laughter again, at her reference to Tyland's 'mating dance'.

That was before Tyland addressed Y/N, directing a cold glower towards her.

"I do not remember asking for your opinion, Y/N."

Gwayne was immediately on his feet, glaring into Tyland's face, with fury behind his eyes.

"I think I just heard you address the Lady without the proper respect due to her, Ser. I would advise you to remove yourself from both ladies' presence before I am forced to do so."

Both Alicent and Y/N were surprised to see Gwayne so incensed, having never been on the receiving end of his anger, and Tyland seemed similarly surprised at his anger, taking a step back from the table.

Begrudgingly offering his apology to Y/N for the insult, he stalked away from the table. Gwayne did not return to his seat until Tyland had made his way back to the centre of the room, continuing to glare in the direction of his retreating back. Alicent pulled him back down to his seat by his arm, retaining a comforting hold on it. He patted her hand affectionately, and reached out to take Y/N's hand, which she quickly placed within his own.

"Pay him no mind, Gwayne. He is only a fool in Court clothing." Alicent said comfortingly, patting his arm. Gwayne nodded in response, looking down at her affectionately as he tried to calm his breathing, still angered by Tyland's presumption towards his sister and his rudeness towards his love.

Y/N squeezing his hand helped to calm him from his rage, as he turned to her, looking into her eyes with a look of earnest concern.

"I hope you were not distressed by that fool's behaviour, my Lady. I can have another conversation with him, if such be the case."

Correctly predicting by the emphasis Gwayne placed on the word 'conversation' that Gwayne meant more of a physical, than a verbal, altercation, Y/N indulgently swatted him on the arm.

"There will be no need for that, my good Ser. I think we have all effectually put that peacock in his place."

The feeling of her soft, delicate hand still placed within his own, and her playfully affectionate gesture, served to calm Gwayne, whilst her jest had them all breaking out into laughter again. Gwayne gazed down at her, the bell-like sound of her laughter filling his ears, as his eyes glittered with the love he felt for her.

The sound of muffled laughter could be heard, as Gwayne and Alicent made their way back through the Keep towards Y/N's apartments, with Y/N in tow. Both Gwayne and Y/N had drunk far more wine than was sensible, Y/N not having realised her limits, as she continued to stumble her way forward. Her movement was only made more haphazard by her inability to stop laughing at Gwayne's impression of Tyland's mating dance, as she wheezed, holding onto her stomach. When she nearly fell, as they rounded the corner, Gwayne caught her by her elbows and held her up.

"Steady, steady, how many fingers am I holding up?" he smirked at her, raising three fingers to her face.

She smiled blearily at him, before responding delightedly, "five!"

Gwayne chuckled indulgently, shaking his head as he looked downward, before sighing.

"Nothing for it, I shall have to carry you, though I can scarcely stand myself. You are to be blamed as a bad influence. If I had not been trying to best you, my Lady, I should still be in full possession of my cognitive and physical abilities."

Attempting to swat his chest, but missing, nearly careening past him, had not he caught her again, holding her waist with one arm, she laughed.

"I thoroughly bested you Ser, let there be no doubt."

Smiling at her, finding her antics adorable, he assumed a mock serious tone of voice.

"I would never be so bold as to suggest it, my Lady. Now if you could kindly get onto my back, I hope we might return you to your chambers before morning comes."

Turning away from her and lowering himself, he held his arms out behind him to lift her, as Alicent helped Y/N get onto his back.

They made it approximately half way up the turreted stairwell to Y/N's apartments before Gwayne, inebriated himself and laughing at the situation they found themselves in, slipped on a step, hitting his knee. A look of alarm crossed his face as he turned to assess whether his fumble had harmed his lady, but it was quickly replaced by a grin of amusement, as she swatted his head.

"Stupid horse, what do you mean by falling. Get up at once."

"Apologies, my Lady, your horse is not feeling very steady, himself." Laughing, yet secretly rejoicing at her touch, and that she should feel so safe with him, as she leant her head against his back, he raised them both and continued up the stairs. Whether by the grace of the Seven or Alicent's skillful steering of her brother and friend, the three managed to make it to Y/N's apartments in one piece. Hugging Alicent and patting Gwayne's head still, it seemed, under the mistaken notion that he really was a horse, Y/N retreated behind the door of her apartments. As the Hightower siblings turned to go back through the Keep to their own apartments, Gwayne wrapped an arm around his sister, a gesture of affection which also ended up being necessary, as he was now passed the point of being able to make it back in the right direction to their own apartments.

Waking up the next day with a headache, Gwayne couldn't find himself feeling sorry for it, when it was the result of a night of such merriment and joy with his sister and lady love. He had dreamt of Y/N standing at his side in his own ancestral seat, as his wife, and had awoken hoping that she might sometimes dream of him too. With such a happy thought to buoy him up, he rose and began to dress for the first day of the tourney, hoping that his lady's headache was not as bad as his own. At the thought that she could be suffering from one, he sobered a little and resolved to make a stop by the kitchens before he made his way to the tournament.

A knock on her door, early the next day, had Y/N grumbling for her maid to enter, her head throbbing from her indulgence at the previous night's banquet. Entering quietly, the maid bought a tea to Y/N, which she looked at quizzically.

"Thank you, but I don't believe I requested this."

Lowering her head in deference, the maid informed her that Ser Gwayne Hightower had brought it up personally, assuring her that it was a herbal remedy sure to cure her symptoms from the previous night's merriment. The maid also handed her a note, which Gwayne had left with the tea.

My Lady,

I do hope your pretty head does not hurt quiet so much as mine does, although I am assured by your stalwart claims to have bested me last night that it does not. I do believe I knocked mine own on several walls on my way back to my chambers last night, as if the wine were not already enough to give me a headache for several years. I swear by the efficacy of this tea for curing all manner of ill incurred by indulging in too much wine. I do hope you will be well enough to honour me with your presence and support at today's tourney.

Remember that your knight will require someone to charm, should his fellow knight's prove impervious to his charms. That failing, I shall allow you to carry my sword for me when I inevitably drop it, since I can barely see straight to write this missive.

Yours, most faithfully,

Gwayne

Laughing at his note, even as his consideration for her wellbeing caused her heart to flutter, Y/N rose to begin getting ready to meet Alicent on her way to the tourney stands to watch Gwayne compete.

As Gwayne urged his horse forth in a canter, in procession behind the other knights competing in the tourney, his heart soared at the sight of his sister and lady smiling down at him and cheering for him from the stands. Stopping below the balcony they were seated at, he called up to them, a boyish grin illuminating his features.

"Good morrow, fair ladies. Would my two favourite ladies care to grant their champion their favours, so that he may hope to compete with their blessing?"

Taking Alicent's handkerchief from her, Y/N passed both of their handkerchiefs down to him, and he quickly caught both in his grasp, smiling gratefully up at them both, before directing his horse to continue forth. Despite his nervousness at competing in his first tourney outside of Oldtown, the sight of his sister and beloved's favours tied to his sword belt made him feel as if he was already on the way to winning the only prize he truly cared for, the heart of his lady.

Both girls had anxiously held each other's hands in their laps as they watched Gwayne compete against knights twice his age, concerned for his safety. They soon found themselves cheering, however, at Gwayne's series of victories, both in the jousting and with the sword. His age did not seem to be a weakness, rather, it seemed to lend him a boldness and unpredictability in battle, which had the other knights struggling to anticipate his next move. Every time he took a hit, both ladies would hold their breath, before he would be up again, rounding on his opponent with a tenacity they had little expected for one so young and inexperienced in battle.

By the end of that day's tournaments, Gwayne had emerged the victor in many a fight. Instead of going to the podium directly beneath the King's balcony to receive the markers of his victories, he ran straight towards the balcony that his sister and lady were seated upon.

"Are you sufficiently pleased with your champion's victories on the field today, my ladies?"

Laughing at him, Y/N leant over the balcony, folding her arms on the railing, to address him.

"Your ladies are sufficiently pleased by your victories, good Ser. We shall expect you to do equally as well on the morrow."

Gazing up at his love, she appeared almost as an angel above him, so much so that he was nearly too stunned to speak. He hoped that she was impressed by his performance that day and that his victories might also go some way to convincing her that he would be a suitable choice for a husband, as someone who could protect her and would defend her with his life.

Winking at her, with a charming smile, he met her light tone with his own.

"Depend upon it, my sweet Lady, this knight shall not disappoint you."

With that, he reluctantly turned from her back towards the King's stand, the King having been left unexpectedly waiting whilst Gwayne had bypassed him on his way to meet his lady.

@liafiction @madamewhitesnake @rebeccawinters @ateliefloresdaprimavera @beebeechaos @darknessinside11 @read-just-cant @ganymede-princess @a-dorkier-book-keeper @leptitlu @ambrosia-v-black @labellapeaky @deltamoon666 @just-some-random-blogger

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #gwayne hightower fanfic #gwayne hightower #gwayne x reader #gwayne hightower imagine #gwayne hightower x reader #ser gwayne #alicent hightower #hotd #hotd s2 #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic

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runnning-outof-time · 10 months ago

Note

Can I request John and "Did you even miss me?" Congrats on 3.5k!

Thanks for sending this in, anon! I’m sorry it took me so long to write! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Wasn’t Expecting You

John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 707

Summary: After being away for weeks, John decides to surprise his wife. She becomes so surprised by him that her reaction isn’t what he was expecting.

“You really don’t know how much longer they’ll be away for?” (Y/N) asked Ada as they both took their seats in the front room of (Y/N)’s home.

“I don’t,” Ada answered with a slight frown and a shake of her head. “Tommy never gives an exact timeline, and Arthur and John just follow along with it.”

“That explains why he won’t say anything when he calls me,” (Y/N) sighed, looking down at her lap.

“They’ll be home soon enough,” Ada assured her, her lips pursed in a tight smile, “and then they’ll become our problems again.”

(Y/N) giggled at the second half of her sister-in-law’s statement. She had to agree - things were much calmer when the boys were out of town.

“So…how have things been around here lately?” Ada asked once they were finished laughing.

“They’ve been grand. This place is finally starting to feel like a home,” (Y/N) answered, her smile wide as she looked around the room.

“Everything looks lovely,” Ada answered, her eyes focused on something behind (Y/N). The other woman just figured she was looking at some of the decorations behind her. She saw her smile widen just as someone else spoke out.

“I’ve brought the booze!” a third voice entered the conversation. Ada’s expression switched on a dime and she rolled her eyes at the statement.

(Y/N) didn’t get time to question it because someone had swooped in beside her to place a set of glasses down on the coffee table. She couldn’t make out much, just that the person was wearing a brown suit. Ada was also looking at her expectantly now. “I don’t think we needed booze…?” she hesitantly questioned, her brows furrowed.

Ada had to hold back her laughter. “Have you not noticed who that is?” she asked seconds later.

“Huh?” (Y/N) was confused now. Ada nodded her head at the person. So she turned to look up at him. “Oh…John?”

“Yeah, it’s me, love,” he answered, his usual cheshire cat-like grin present. “Not the welcome home I was expectin’ though…did you even miss me?”

Something clicked in (Y/N)’s mind as he was speaking. She jumped up from the couch as quickly as she could and threw her arms around his frame. “Of course I missed you! We were just talking about you coming home,” she said to him as she held onto his body tightly. A wide smile was present on her face when she pulled away. “I just…I looked quick and thought you were Finn or something,” she sheepishly explained her previous lack of excitement.

Her statement made John snort. “Finn? Now that’s a fuckin’ insult!” he exclaimed, his still present grin showing that he was teasing her.

“Oh shut up, John,” she jokingly huffed as she lightly smacked his shoulder. He sent her a tight lipped grin, one that she couldn’t hold up a straight face to. Her grin grew as she buried her face into his chest.

“No, darling, I wanna see that beautiful smile of yours,” he said, coaxing her to lift her head once more, “been too long since I’ve seen it.”

“Been too long since you’ve kissed me as well…” she trailed off, a knowing look in her eyes.

“You make a good point,” he agreed with her, tucking his fingers under her chin so that he could guide her lips to his. They shared a sweet kiss before a voice broke them apart.

“That’ll be my cue to go,” Ada announced, standing from her chair so that she could grab her things.

“Thanks for coming over, Ada,” (Y/N) smiled at the woman as she made her way to the door. The two ladies said their goodbyes before John got the attention of his wife again.

“You really thought I was Finn?” he asked her, his eyebrows raised.

“I didn’t think you’d be home so soon,” she defended herself.

“Yeah, but…Finn?” he emphasized his little brother’s name as mock-disgust filled his time.

“Oh shut up and kiss me again, will you?” she dismissed his question, taking hold of his cheeks then so that she could bring his lips to hers once more.

*tagging in reblog so that hopefully the notification gets sent

MASTERLIST

#john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby x y/n #john shelby x you #john shelby blurb #john shelby imagine #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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spngi · 4 months ago

Text

My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader

Prologue | part 1

Part 2

summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings

warnings: Grammar mistakes, mentions of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating

My blood boils; Carlos’s words repeat in an infinite loop in my head. My hands tremble with rage, and I press them on the table to try to contain the impulse to simply rip that smile off Carlos’s face.

“You wouldn’t do that “ my words come out slowly, trying to maintain the little patience I have left. “You can’t do this.”

“Or what? Are you going to threaten me now too, dear?” Carlos asks, his relaxed figure at the table and his tone full of irony.

I stand up from the table, and the chair scrapes loudly as it moves away. I look through the glass door at the inevitable: that woman in my house, lying on one of the loungers, wearing a bikini, as if she already belonged to this house.

I feel even more irritated, or perhaps sad. I feel invaded by all of this. I turn back to Carlos; I have the urge to throw all the objects in that room at him, to hurt him the same way he’s hurting me.

“She must be low enough to accept the role of mistress” I insult her in the end.

“She knows it won’t be for long” he replies.

“Well, I can agree with you… she won’t stay for long” I approach Carlos and lean in until I’m at eye level with him. “Pay attention to what I’m going to say, Carlos. I will always be your wife, I will be by your side whether you want it or not… this girl might be getting a bit of your attention now, but she will never be anything more than a fling because, at the end of the day, the only one who has the privilege of wearing this ring is still me.”

Carlos’s brown eyes watch me as I speak. He doesn’t bother to respond but seems irritated nonetheless.

“She will never be welcome in this house, Carlos… so spare her the humiliation and get her out of here as soon as possible!” I add, and before stepping away, I kiss the corner of his lips.

I don’t wait to see his reaction to the gesture; I quickly leave to distance myself from that situation before I lose control and throw that cheap model out of our house. I lock myself in one of the farthest rooms of the house and fight the strong urge to go back and throw the crystal candelabrum at Carlos’s head.

I sit on the floor at the foot of the guest bed, a pillow in hand to muffle my screams and the occasional sobs of crying. I couldn’t take it anymore; I couldn’t understand why Carlos was doing this to me.

Before the accident happened a few months ago, we were talking about starting a family, about filling this house with children. But after that day, everything changed.

I still have nightmares about how it all happened, how my car flipped several times on the road, the pain I felt, and the terror I experienced seeing all the armed men approaching me. Carlos managed to find me quickly enough so that no further harm was done; he stayed by my side throughout my recovery and tripled the security. But when I got better and asked him for revenge on those who escaped, he changed.

My fear had turned into anger, and I needed to know that those animals would never come back to hurt me, I needed to know that I had killed them with my own hands. But he never agreed with that; it led to many discussions and arguments. He never wanted to give in, even with his father’s words supporting me, Charles’s, Lando’s, and some other allied family heads. He promised he would do the job himself, that he would never leave any of them alive, but he didn’t understand that wasn’t what I needed. And when I went against his will, when I got what I wanted, everything began to fall apart.

The door opens in front of me, bringing me back to reality. I see Lando enter the room; it’s not the first time he has found me here. This room had become a hiding place for me, so I could hide during crises or just cry without being heard.

Lando walks into the room. I point to the dresser near him, and he smiles slightly. He opens the last drawer, already knowing where I hide my things. He pulls out a bottle of bourbon and a glass.

“I’m giving you a break today. Drink with me” I try to smile at him “and grab one of those cigars too, I need my complete pity party.”

“How are you?” he asks in the end, sitting next to me and spreading the items on the floor.

“Terrible” I pour the drinks. “Is she still out by the pool?”

“Yes. If it’s any consolation, Charles and I asked the staff not to take any orders from her.” Norris says, and the gesture makes me a bit happy to know that I can still count on him.

“Thank you, Lando, you’re a good friend. And Charles too, is he upset about what I did yesterday?”

“He understands, Y/N.” Lando offers me the lighter so I can light the cigar.

“You know what annoys me?” I ask him between puffs. “If the situation were reversed, the man who dared to step into this house would already be dead. Carlos wouldn’t think twice about doing it. And I could never live with myself knowing I did that, even though now I can think of a thousand ways to do it to her.”

“You’re a good person, Y/N. You know that, and Mr. Sainz knows it too… he’s just trying to challenge you or whatever his game is.”

“I don’t know if I still have the strength to play, Lando” I murmur to him, the alcohol in my mouth calming me.

“You know I’ll be here by your side, whether you want to continue or if you want to give up… you’re my friend, Y/N, I will always support you”

“Thank you, I hope I can repay all your support someday” I smile at him and pass the cigar to him.

“Does Mr. Sainz know you stole these from his collection?” Norris asks and takes a drag on the cigar.

“He can go fuck himself” I murmur and take a sip of the drink.

One more chapter! I hope you guys are enjoying it!

Leave your comments and opinions ❤️

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #cs55 x reader #carlos sainz au #carlos sainz #cs55 #mafia!f1 #mafia au #mob!carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader

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p0orbaby · 4 months ago

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Growing Pains

summary: who doesn’t like a bit of family drama before dinner?

warnings: none really, just a teen getting a telling off

a/n: for those who wanted more mum alessia, this is for you

word count: 838

“Sit down” you say, voice steady but firm in the soft glow of the early evening.

The kitchen is eerily silent, save for the occasional clatter of dishes from dinner prep. Leo, your thirteen-year-old, stands before you with a potent blend of resistance and guilt painted across his face. His tousled hair and stubborn stance scream rebellion. He’s tall for his age, already standing at five foot five. However, he is not as intimidating as he thinks he is.

“Is this about the call from school?” Your wife asks from her spot at the counter, not turning around. Her back radiates calm, though you know she’s smirking into the sink, probably remembering some equally ridiculous thing she did at his age.

“Yes,” you reply, not taking your eyes off Leo. “It seems our dear son thought it would be amusing to call Mrs. Thompson a—what was it, Leo?”

Leo mumbles something unintelligible, staring at the floor as if it holds the secret to escaping this conversation. His toe pushes against the leg of a dining chair, scraping the tile, a small act of defiance.

“Louder,” you instruct, your patience wearing thin.

“A bossy old hag who probably sleeps with a textbook,” he repeats, a little clearer but still sullen and wilted.

Alessia’s laugh slips out before she can catch it, morphing into a cough when you shoot her a look. This is why you’re always ‘Un-Fun Mum.’ Of course, she’d find it hilarious. Classic Leo, the class clown with a streak of righteous anger he unfortunately inherited from you.

“Leonardo,” you start, trying to keep your resolve from dissolving completely, “what were you thinking?”

He shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as if he’s proud of his cleverness and the fact he made his favourite parent laugh. “She was being unfair,” he says, defensively. “She keeps picking on Etta”

Giulietta, your eleven-year-old daughter, is undoubtedly eavesdropping from her usual spy post at the top of the stairs. Her sweetness contrasts sharply with her brother's budding anarchist tendencies. You can practically see her, a shadow on the landing, ears perked for any mention of her name.

“That doesn't give you the right to insult her,” you say, feeling your frustration bubble up. “You need to find better ways to stand up for your sister”

“Like what?” he snaps back, eyes flashing. “Letting her get away with it?” His arms cross over his chest, a miniature version of Alessia when she (rarely) geared up for a fight on the pitch.

You open your mouth to respond, but Alessia steps in, sensing your irritation about to boil over. “Leo, what your mother is trying to say is that there are better ways to handle these situations,” she says, her tone like butter melting on toast. “You could have come to us, or spoken to the headteacher”

Leo's eyes flick to her, searching for some sign of leniency. The kid knows which parent to work for an angle. “But—“

“No buts,” you cut in, the finality in your voice slamming the door shut on this discussion. “You're grounded. No phone, no games, no friends”

“That's not fair!” he protests, his voice a pitch higher, desperation edging in. His face is red, the first sign that he’s about to cry. Or scream.

“Life's not fair,” you retort, standing your ground like a fortress at the centre of battle. “You'll survive”

There's a moment of tense silence, then Leo spins on his heels and storms upstairs, each stomp a protest echoing off the walls. You hear him muttering under his breath, no doubt something unflattering, possibly inventive. The door to his room slams, a punctuation mark on his outrage.

Alessia crosses the room and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You did the right thing,” she says softly, her touch a balm.

You sigh, leaning into her touch. “I know, but it doesn't make it any easier”

She smiles, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, a gesture that makes you feel like a teenager again. “Parenting never is. But we're in this together, okay?”

You nod, feeling the tension slowly drain from your shoulders like water from a leaky tap. “I know, love.” The smell of the dinner Alessia’s been preparing—garlic, tomatoes, something roasted—wafts through the room, grounding you.

From upstairs, the sound of muffled crying seeps through the ceiling. Leo’s rage, morphing into sorrow. Alessia’s hand slides down your arm, intertwining her fingers with yours.

“We’ll talk to him later,” she whispers. “When he's calmed down”

“Yeah,” you agree, squeezing her hand. “We’ll figure it out”

You both stand there for a moment, listening to the sounds of your home. The hum of the fridge, the distant rush of water from the bathroom where Giulietta is probably hiding out, and the low murmur of Leo's sobs. Parenthood, a constant balance between love and discipline, laughter and tears.

“Come on,” Alessia says finally, giving your hand a gentle tug. “Dinner's almost ready. Let's set the table”

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #awfc #awfc x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community

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wholoveseggs · 1 year ago

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Warmth - Part Three

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

This is just a smutty little thing about being in an arraigned marriage to a certain original vampire.

If you rather read this on Ao3- Link is here

{Part One} {Part Two}

Back in the vibrant streets of New Orleans, relishing in your newfound freedom. Life takes an unexpected turn as the shadows of your past life loom large, pulling you back into the life you just escaped. Yet, amidst the haunting echoes, you find strength in a partner who is ready to go to any lengths for you.

8k words (whoops) - Warnings: Smut, drama & Elijah being a wife guy.

Part Three

The blissful week of your honeymoon unfolded like a dream, each moment seemingly plucked from a fairy tale. The idyllic cottage, delicious food, and fantastic sex painted a picture of a life you never thought possible.

Now, back in New Orleans, a newfound sense of liberation coursed through you. This freedom allowed you to make choices without restraint, doing whatever pleased you without scrutiny.

You spent the day at the record shop, browsing for a particular album that was deeply sentimental to you. When you found it, you almost squealed with glee, leaving the shop with a huge grin on your face.

You decided to walk back to the compound, enjoying the sun on your bare skin. During your time with the human faction, modest dressing was mandatory, even in sweltering weather. Yet, when Rebekah presented the daring silk backless dress for your wedding, you dared to dream of a possible future with true freedom. Now, you were living it.

However, your happiness took a sudden hit when you crossed paths with some faction wives on the street. Their envious and disdainful looks made you feel self-conscious in your short leather skirt and knee-high boots.

"I thought you would be dead by now," one of them remarked with a sneer, scanning your outfit with disapproval.

"Is your husband just keeping you around as a snack?" another quipped, her words laced with sharp mockery.

"Actually, I just got back from my honeymoon," you replied, trying to politely leave the conversation.

Laughter erupted from the group as they exchanged incredulous looks. "Vampires don't procreate, darling. What's the point of all that?" one of them scoffed.

Your patience wore thin, and with a tight smile, you excused yourself. "Well, I have better things to do than…this. Enjoy your day."

As you walked away, their judgment lingered in the air, casting a shadow over your earlier joy. You knew they were victims just as much as you had been; they coped with their circumstances by making others feel as bad as them. With your head held high, you headed back to the compound, trying not to let them dampen your mood.

Klaus stormed up to you in a huff, his accusing gaze piercing through you as you entered through the main gate. "Where were you, and what did you do?" he demanded, suspicion heavy in his voice.

"Uhh, I went to the record store and bought a record?" You replied, a confused look on your face.

"There was an attack on a group of vampires, orchestrated by the human faction," Klaus stated, giving you an icy glare.

"I'm sorry to hear that," you said sincerely.

Klaus leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "Are you still involved with the humans? Are you a spy for them?"

"Niklaus," Elijah’s voice cut through the tension, he was standing on the balcony above, giving his brother a stern look. "There's no way she's a spy. She was abused by them, not collaborating with them."

Klaus crossed his arms, skepticism etched on his face. "Abuse could be a convenient cover, Elijah. We both know the lengths people go to achieve their goals."

You stepped forward, a hint of frustration in your voice. "I had a run-in with some of the faction wives. They insulted and questioned me, I'm not a spy."

Klaus raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "What did you talk about?"

"Just casual things," you replied with a forced nonchalance. "The honeymoon, mostly. They threw in some comments about vampires not being able to procreate. It was just a rather short and grating interaction."

Elijah descended the stairs and stood beside you, placing a protective hand on your waist. "When did this happen?" He asked gently.

"Like an hour ago," you replied, looking from Klaus to Elijah as they shared a silent exchange. "Do you think the attack has something to do with me?"

"Possibly," Klaus replied, pacing around with his usual dramatic flair. "The attack happened not long after your interaction with them."

Elijah's phone suddenly rang, and his expression turned dark when he answered it. Klaus was staring at him, clearly listening to the conversation you couldn't hear; his expression changed from serious to frighteningly amused.

When Elijah hung up, a heavy sigh escaped him, and he looked at Klaus with a deep furrow in his brow. "It seems we have been invited to a dinner party with your former faction," he said to you, bitterness lacing his tone.

"Why?" you asked, the word barely escaping your lips as a surge of anxiety tightened your throat.

"Apparently, renegotiations," Elijah replied with a hint of darkness in his tone, his gaze locking onto yours. He gently clasped your trembling hand, planting a reassuring kiss against it. "You will be fine," he assured you.

"I thought as much," Klaus said with a bitter laugh, "Looks like your little alliance isn't going as you planned, dear brother."

Elijah shot Klaus a disapproving glare. "I understand you've never approved of my methods, but everything I did was to avoid further bloodshed."

Klaus rolled his eyes, beginning to stroll away, leaving you both with a sardonic smile. "It appears my methods might be more fitting in this situation, unless you're willing to return her," Klaus uttered darkly, gesturing toward you.

Elijah’s grip on your waist tightened. "That's not an option."

"I know, brother, I know," Klaus laughed as he left the courtyard, clearly amused by the whole situation.

Despite Elijah's comforting words, irrational thoughts flooded your mind. Was Klaus right? Was this some cruel ploy to reclaim you, to drag you back into a life you had just escaped?

Elijah sensed your apprehension, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "I won't let anything happen to you," he vowed, his eyes filled with a protective intensity.

"You don’t know what they are like," you confessed nervously, your voice barely above a whisper. "What if they want to break the alliance? Take me back?"

Elijah's gaze held a steady determination. "They can break the alliance if they please, but that would be remarkably unwise of them," he replied, his tone unwavering. He tightened his embrace, as if shielding you from an impending storm. "You're not a pawn to be traded back and forth; they have no power to reclaim you."

Elijah's confidence gave you strength, calming the waves of anxiety that threatened to engulf you. He would protect you. No one could take you away from him.

A small smile curled his lips as he placed a soft kiss against your forehead. "This might actually be a blessing in disguise," he mused, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Perhaps a demonstration of their misguided arrogance is required."

"No," you said firmly, folding your arms across your chest.

"You would look so beautiful in it," Elijah protested, gesturing toward the garment bag draped over a chair.

"It's not really dinner party appropriate," you said with a shrug, not wanting to reveal the real reason behind your reluctance.

Elijah cocked his head, studying you intently. "Is this about the dress or something else?"

You hesitated, glancing away. "It's about everything. The attack, the faction wives, the fact that I'm about to dine with people who treated me like property."

"They have no power over you anymore," Elijah reminded you, gently taking your hand in his. "And where has your rebellious spirit flown off too all of a sudden?"

"I guess I just want to prove them wrong," you said, shrugging slightly. "I want them to see that I've won, that I'm happy. Wearing a dress that is far too risqué would undermine that."

"My dear," Elijah murmured, pulling you close and gently cupping your cheek, "They will never accept you as anything other than an object. No matter what you wear. That is not your burden to bear; it is theirs."

His words pierced through your self-doubt, filling you with a newfound sense of conviction. He was right; your only duty was to be yourself, not to try and live up to their impossible expectations.

"You’re right," you said, looking up at him as a devious smile spread across your lips. "But it will piss them off, and that could make negotiations more difficult."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," he replied with a smirk, his arms wrapping around your waist affectionately.

Your eyes narrowed, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "So, you want me to dress up to embarrass them?"

Elijah leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I want you to show them exactly who you are and how powerful you have become," he said softly, giving you an encouraging kiss on the cheek.

With a renewed sense of determination, you stepped towards the garment bag and fully unzipped it, taking out a breathtaking silk dress. It was black, with a daringly low back and a slit that would reveal almost all of your leg. It was the perfect mix of sophisticated and sexy, the kind of dress that the faction would completely disapprove of.

You smiled as you slipped on the dress, savoring the feeling of the cool silk against your skin. A thrill ran through you at the thought of what tonight might bring, a strange mix of anxiety and excitement.

Elijah looked at you, a combination of pride and admiration on his face. The hunger in his eyes was palpable, and it made you want to rip his clothes off and let him have his way with you.

But, alas, there was a dinner party to attend.

The car pulled up to the grand estate, and the familiar sight stirred memories you had fought hard to bury. The imposing structure, the opulent surroundings—they whispered of a past that still clung to you. It had only been a few weeks since you had left this life behind, and now you were thrust back into its midst.

Elijah ushered you through the door, his hand offering warmth and reassurance as he drew you close. "Try and relax. I will kill them all before they lay a finger on you," he assured with a grin, sealing the promise with a gentle kiss on your cheek before guiding you inside.

As dinner approached, you found yourself surrounded by your adoptive sisters and faction wives, a gathering of women who had consistently cast you as the family's black sheep. The forced marriage to Elijah was intended to be your punishment, and in the weeks leading up to the wedding, they took every opportunity to remind you of it.

Their eyes, once filled with disdain, now flickered with a mix of envy and fear as they noticed Elijah's presence across the room.

"Isn't he attractive," one of them commented, eyes lingering on Elijah. "I wish my husband looked like that."

"He's a vampire, for goodness' sake. I wouldn't want to be near him," another replied, her tone a mix of fascination and repulsion.

You smiled politely, choosing not to engage in their speculative chatter. The women, fueled by curiosity and perhaps a tinge of jealousy, couldn't resist bombarding you with questions.

"So, how does he... treat you?" one of them asked, her expression a mix of faux concern and genuine intrigue.

"Does he, like, drink your blood?" another blurted out with a shudder, as if the mere thought was enough to make her cringe.

"He must mind-control you, being a vampire and all," another woman remarked, her tone dripping with condescension.

You attempted to change the subject. "Do you ladies know what this dinner party is about?" You asked, trying to seem nonchalant.

"Our husbands don't share that sort of information with us," one added, giving you a critical look. "It's not for us to concern ourselves with."

"I've heard it's because your husband is not living up to his end of the deal," another added, clearly loving the chance to gossip.

"No, Elijah is a man of his word." You argued, looking around at the women. "I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding."

"There is no misunderstanding your recent behavior," the ringleader interjected. "Perhaps the faction is unhappy with your marriage, that it's not meeting their expectations," she added, barely hiding her amusement.

"What was the expectation exactly? That I'd be subjugated by my husband?" you replied harshly.

They scoffed, exchanging knowing glances. "You have been parading around like a whore and out in public without an escort. I've also heard rumors about that honeymoon of yours; you always did have a penchant for the scandalous," one of them commented, a malicious smirk playing on her face.

You raised an eyebrow, unable to resist returning their insults. "Well, I suppose being miserable is a tradition around here. But don't worry, I'll let you know if I ever need advice on how to be unhappy and unsatisfied."

"Oh, dear," one of them scoffed, feigning pity. "You must be so blinded by the allure of a vampire that you can't see the chains he'll undoubtedly tighten around you."

Another chimed in, suggesting, "Perhaps he inflicts pain in bed, then erases it from your mind with mind control."

"It's only fitting you endure such punishment, since you tarnished yourself before marriage," added another with a venomous tone.

"You know, it's fascinating how you all revel in your misery," you retorted, your words cutting through the whispers of the women.

"I heard vampires get bored easily," one of them sneered. "What happens when he loses interest in you?"

As their petty remarks continued, you maintained your composure, refusing to let their jealousy and bitterness affect you. Just before the conversation could delve further into the realm of absurdity, Elijah gracefully approached, cutting through the toxic atmosphere with his warm presence.

"Ladies," he greeted them with a charming smile, "how delightful to see you all."

They greeted him with forced smiles, their eyes shifting between you and Elijah. The ringleader couldn't resist her curiosity. "Are you happy with your new bride, Mr. Mikaelson?"

Elijah's eyes met yours, a fondness in their depths. "Immensely," he replied sincerely. "I believe I've married the best your faction has to offer."

A collective gasp rippled through the women, and you couldn't help but smirk at their transparent jealousy. Elijah then turned to you, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek that seemed calculated to fuel their envy.

"I must steal my lovely wife away for a moment," he announced, gently leading you away from the disapproving gazes. The lingering resentment from the women was almost tangible as you followed Elijah, escaping the judgmental whispers.

"They implied that they know details about our honeymoon, what a bunch of fucking weirdos," you whispered to Elijah in the shelter of a quiet corridor.

A small, understanding smile played on his lips as he gently pushed you against a wall, leaning in to kiss you softly. "They have spies everywhere," he whispered. His lips then trailed down your neck, each kiss a deliberate act of defiance against the gossiping crowd.

"They are being petty and bitter, still trying to punish me," you admitted breathlessly, your emotions a whirlwind as Elijah's touches sparked a mixture of desire and rebellion.

"What exactly did you do?" Elijah asked, gently pulling away from the delicate curve of your neck, curiosity dancing in his eyes. "You only mentioned that you were not considered pure by them."

You placed your hands on his chest, idly toying with his tie. "I may have been caught, you know, engaging in some activities with a young man in the garden," you confessed, avoiding direct eye contact, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

A low chuckle escaped Elijah, followed by another gentle kiss. "Good work," he teased, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "I'm sure that stirred up quite a reaction."

"It did," you responded, a sheepish grin crossing your face. "They couldn't proceed with marrying me off to his father after that."

You made eye contact with Elijah and the both of you burst out laughing, the sound echoing unexpectedly in the quiet corridor. Swiftly realizing the need for composure, you both attempted to stifle the laughter.

"We can always try to further tarnish your reputation," Elijah teased, a playful grin on his lips as he leaned in for another kiss.

Your smile lingered, but you gently pushed him away. "As much as I would love that," you replied playfully, "I believe we should consider playing along. Maybe we can still find a way to maintain some semblance of peace."

"If that is what you desire," Elijah responded with a smile. He took your hand and led you toward the dining hall.

The air in the grand dining room was thick with tension as you headed to your seat. This room, once off-limits to you, now hosted a gathering that felt more like a trial than a negotiation. Familiar faces, some masked in false pleasantries, stared back at you. Uncomfortable memories resurfaced, and you wished you could erase the knowledge of these people from your past.

Elijah guided you with a protective hand on the small of your back, his presence a reassuring anchor in the storm of emotions. You sat down next to your adoptive mother, avoiding her icy gaze. The air was thick with tension, and the clinking of cutlery against fine china echoed through the room.

Your former adoptive mother stood, gesturing for the other guests to remain seated. Her stern gaze turned to you and Elijah.

"It is so good to see you both," she began, her voice dripping with fake sincerity. "I'm sorry we haven't had the opportunity to properly catch up."

You forced a smile, hoping it was convincing enough. "The pleasure is all ours, mother," you lied. "Thank you for hosting such a wonderful evening."

The dinner progressed as expected, with the usual banal small talk and insincere pleasantries. You could feel the tension in the room, a palpable reminder that no one truly wanted you here.

As the dessert was taken away, your adoptive father stood and cleared his throat, capturing the attention of everyone in the room. "Mr. Mikaelson," he began, addressing your husband with a stern gaze, "It seems that we must discuss some new terms if our alliance is to be maintained."

Elijah, ever composed, inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the formality. "I am open to discussions," he replied evenly.

"When we agreed to marry one of our precious daughters to you, we expected a more old-fashioned approach. There must be a clear understanding of hierarchy. We are aware that our dear daughter may have... unconventional views on equality, but for the sake of harmony, you must maintain a certain level of control over her." your adoptive father continued, his gaze unwavering.

"So, you’ve called me here to discuss… what exactly?" Elijah asked, his voice dripping with disdain. "That I make my wife unhappy?"

The tension in the room escalated, each word carrying the weight of expectations and the unspoken threat of consequences. You gripped the edge of your chair, feeling the eyes of the faction bore into you.

"Our faction values tradition, and you and your wife's... liberal perspectives should not compromise the delicate balance we've achieved." Your adoptive mother added, her tone icy.

"My understanding is that you view me as an evil, degenerate monster, and yet you willingly gave your daughter to my family." Elijah said smoothly, leaning casually in his chair and looking around the table at the cowering faces. "It was you that insisted on a marriage pact, because you wanted to punish her."

Your former adoptive mother sighed and rolled her eyes. "She was always a rebellious child, and we had hoped she would learn some discipline under your watch."

"You have no authority to impose any rules over my wife, and as her husband, I have every right to ensure her happiness," Elijah replied, his voice low and dangerous.

The faction members exchanged uneasy glances, sensing a shift in the balance of power. Elijah continued, sarcasm lacing his words. "I apologize that your punishment didn't go as planned… but that's not my concern. Now do you have anything of actual value to discuss with me?"

Amidst the whispered threats and veiled insults, your adoptive mother leaned in, her voice a venomous whisper. "You're nothing more than a vampire's whore, my dear. He'll grow tired of you, mark my words. You'll age, and when you're no longer a viable hole, he'll discard you like yesterday's trash."

The words cut deep, and you shot her a wounded look. It wasn't the first time they had called you a whore, but it stung more this time.

"I'd rather be a vampire's whore than a spineless, miserable woman like you." You seethed. The words were out of your mouth before you could think.

She laughed, her voice sharp and cold. "You truly are a disgrace to the family."

Before you could respond, Elijah placed a calming hand on yours. He smiled, the gesture a sharp contrast to the rage you knew he was fighting to control. "Let me make something perfectly clear. She is a Mikaelson now and you have no control over what we do,"

Elijah's voice, though measured, carried a stern authority that demanded attention. The faction members, accustomed to their position of influence, shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Your adoptive mother, however, met Elijah's gaze with a defiant smirk.

"We understand, but surely you can see the wisdom in maintaining a balance between power and freedom. You wouldn't want our factions to go to war because of her actions, now would you?" Your adoptive mother challenged, her gaze fixed on Elijah.

Elijah's lips curved into a sardonic smile. "You seem to be under the illusion that I need this alliance. I agreed to it for the sake of peace, but do not mistake my compliance for weakness. I could easily rip out every single one of your tongues before you could utter a word in protest."

The room fell silent, and a cold shiver ran down the spines of the faction members as they found themselves face to face with the unyielding determination of a thousand-year-old vampire. Elijah's eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint, and the air became charged with an unmistakable tension.

Your adoptive father, attempting to salvage some semblance of control, stammered, "Mr. Mikaelson, there's no need for threats. We are merely trying to establish a harmonious relationship."

Elijah's gaze remained fixed on your adoptive mother, his tone low and menacing. "My family has a tendency to respond decisively when one of our own is threatened."

Elijah's words hung in the air like a dark omen. The grand dining room, once a space for diplomacy and negotiation, now crackled with an impending sense of conflict. The faction members, who had been so assured of their position, exchanged uneasy glances as the weight of Elijah's threat settled over them.

Your adoptive mother, her earlier bravado waning, swallowed hard. The malicious glint in her eyes faded into a flicker of doubt. For the first time, the façade of control she had meticulously maintained began to crumble.

Elijah rose to his feet, causing unease to ripple through the faction members. He bestowed upon them a sinister smile, wide but devoid of warmth, "Well then, it appears negotiations have reached their conclusion." His gaze shifted to your adoptive father, the sinister expression unwavering. "If we are not allies, I suppose we are at war."

With that, Elijah turned to you, reaching out his hand, and together, you walked out of the room, leaving the faction to their fear and uncertainty. The night air was cool and fresh as you stepped out into the garden, the tension finally releasing from your shoulders. Elijah's presence beside you was comforting, a solid reassurance that the night was over.

He pulled you close, his eyes searching yours. "Are you alright?" he asked softly, his hand caressing your cheek.

You smiled, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. "I'm fine," you replied, leaning into his touch. His other hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a silent affirmation of unity.

"You didn't have to do that for me," you said quietly, feeling far too vulnerable to meet his gaze.

"Of course I did," he replied, softly, placing a lingering kiss on your cheek. "You are my family."

As you gazed into his eyes, a feeling of longing bloomed within you. "I can't believe you threatened them like that," you breathed.

"Well, they were being quite rude," Elijah remarked, his voice tinged with amusement.

His lips grazed yours in a soft kiss, his arms pressing your body to his. You let yourself sink into the moment, savoring the quiet intimacy. He pulled away from the kiss and looked around the garden, giving you a mischievous look. “You know… I have an idea,"

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his sudden playful demeanor. "Oh, really? And what would that be?"

He didn't answer, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. You followed him deeper into the garden, where he pulled you close and began to kiss you again. His hands moved up your back, tracing your bare skin with his fingertips.

"Elijah," you gasped, his touches setting every nerve on fire. “What if they catch us out here?"

He didn't respond, just kissed you harder, his lips hungry and eager. You surrendered to the kiss, letting yourself fall into the passion of the moment.

The night air was filled with the sound of your breathless moans as Elijah kissed your neck, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin. He slowly pulled down the straps of your dress, revealing your bare chest to the moonlight.

His eyes roamed over your body, taking in every curve and inch of skin. He cupped one breast, teasing the nipple with his thumb. Your breath caught as his other hand slipped under the slit of your dress, his fingers exploring the hem of your panties.

“Where exactly did they catch you with that boy?" He whispered in your ear.

"Behind the fountain," you said, the memory making you blush.

A playful smile danced across his lips. He took your hand and led you behind the stone sculpture, pressing you against the wall. He kissed your neck, his lips lingering on the soft skin. You felt his fingers sliding under the thin fabric of your underwear.

You bit your lip, stifling a moan as his fingers brushed against your clit, his eyes fixed on your face. He stroked the sensitive spot slowly, watching your reaction with a satisfied smile.

"Did he touch you here?" he asked softly.

"Yes," you managed to breathe out, your heart racing at the memory.

Elijah's lips curved into a smirk, his gaze darkening. He pressed his body closer, a hand running down your leg and lifting your thigh around his hip. His fingers continued their gentle rhythm before he slipped a finger inside you, his lips inches away from yours.

"And did you enjoy it?" he whispered.

"Yes," you gasped.

He increased the pressure, his fingers moving faster, drawing a gasp from you. You felt the familiar tightening in your stomach, the heat building between your legs.

"I bet he was clumsy and inexperienced," he teased, his voice a low purr.

You moaned in response, your eyes closing as his fingers slid deeper.

"I bet he didn't know how to please a woman like you."

His breath was hot on your skin as his fingers continued their slow rhythm, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"Elijah," you whimpered.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he asked.

"I need more," you pleaded.

His lips curved into a smirk. "More, what?"

"Stop teasing me," you moaned, gripping at his shoulders.

He chuckled and slid a second finger inside you, curling them at the perfect angle. You gasped as his fingers began moving faster, his thumb circling your clit. Your breath came in short gasps, your body trembling under his touch.

You felt the pressure building, your hips bucking against his hand, desperate for release.

He withdrew his fingers and his lips captured yours, kissing you deeply. You whined into his mouth, desperately frustrated by his denial.

“Please fuck me," you begged, your hands gripping his hair, keeping him close to you.

“Where is the nearest bench?" He teased, a wide lustful smile on his face.

You pointed to a nearby stone bench behind him and he scooped you up and in a flash you were seated in his lap upon it.

His lips claimed yours again, and his hands gripped your hips. You straddled him, your hands roaming his body, feeling his muscles flex beneath his shirt. You could feel his cock straining against his pants, and you rubbed yourself against it, desperate for friction.

"So impatient," he teased, his voice a low growl.

You reached down, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants. You took him in your hand, stroking him slowly. His breath hitched, his hips bucking against your touch.

“You know, I had this particularly naughty idea of fucking you right on the dining table," he purred, gazing at you with admiration.

You moaned at the thought, imagining him taking you on the grand table, surrounded by the shocked faces of the faction members. You lifted yourself slightly and lowered onto his length, savoring the way he filled you.

His eyes closed, a soft groan escaping his lips. You began to move, riding him slowly, taking him deeper with each thrust.

His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you rocked against him. You moaned, feeling the tension building again. You leaned forward, pressing your breasts into his face.

He began kissing and sucking your nipples, his teeth gently scraping against the sensitive skin. The sensation sent shivers through your body, and you cried out, arching your back.

You quickly covered your mouth, afraid of getting caught. He smiled, his hands pulling your arms away, allowing your moans to fill the air.

"Let them hear," he growled.

He gripped your hips tighter, thrusting up into you with a fierce intensity. You leaned forward, burying your face in his neck, muffling your cries. You began to tighten around him, your body shaking with pleasure.

"I told you, sweet wife, don't be quiet," he commanded.

You let go, moaning his name as the orgasm rocked your body. Your nails dug into his shoulders, and you felt him tense, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his cum.

You collapsed against him, breathing heavily, and his arms wrapped around you. He kissed your temple, holding you close.

"Are you ready to go home?" He asked softly.

You nodded, still catching your breath. "Yes."

He smiled and picked you up, his arms cradling you. You felt safe and content in his embrace, the stress of the evening fading away. He set you down near the car, some of the faction members had gathered outside, watching you with disapproving glares.

“They definitely heard us," you whispered as Elijah opened the passenger door for you.

He leaned down and kissed you on the cheek, the gesture full of warmth and love. "Good," he said. "Let them hear how happy I make you."

As you sat in the car, watching him walk around to the driver's side, a thought crossed your mind. This was what real freedom was, the freedom to love and be loved. It was not the absence of boundaries, but the choice to cross them when it suited you.

You gazed at Elijah, his eyes shining in the dim light of the car, and your heart swelled. It was in that moment you realized that you had truly fallen for him.

When you arrived at the compound, Elijah went off to discuss matters with Klaus, and you returned to your bedroom. You were still getting used to the place being your home. Elijah put in a lot of effort to make you feel comfortable, even suggesting renovations. You laughed at the idea, the entire concept so foreign to the life you had always known.

You eyed the record you had purchased that morning; after the day's events, you had completely forgotten about it. You smiled and unwrapped it, placing it on the new record player Elijah had bought for you.

You smiled as the music filled the room, pulling off your dress and changing into more comfortable clothing. Then you settled by the fireplace, sinking into the sofa and letting out a soft sigh of contentment. Feeling relaxed was something you had to practice. Living back with the faction, you were always on edge, and even when you slept, your dreams were fraught with anxiety. But somehow, here, surrounded by the deadliest family on earth, you felt safe and calm.

You heard a knock at the door and expected to see Elijah, to your surprise it was Klaus, leaning in the doorframe with his usual causal arrogance.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if we could have a little chat," he said, a sly smile playing on his lips.

Curiosity piqued, you invited him in and he took a seat next to you.

"Now that you're part of the family, I thought it was high time we got to know each other better," Klaus began, his tone surprisingly genial.

You seized the opportunity to address the lingering suspicion. "Do you still think I'm a spy?"

Klaus brushed off the question with a chuckle. "Let's leave suspicions behind for now. I'm more interested in hearing about your honeymoon, the one I so thoughtfully planned."

“It was lovely," you said sincerely, giving him a kind smile. “But the lingerie was a bit presumptuous of you," you teased.

Klaus chuckled, "Well, I thought if you two bonded, such undergarments would be appreciated."

You rolled your eyes at his comment, “well, the rest of it was very nice," you replied politely. “But I'm confused as to why you planned it in the first place,"

Klaus leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Why not? I enjoy orchestrating delightful surprises, and what better way to test the strength of your newfound alliance than a romantic getaway?"

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "I thought you hated the alliance,"

He smirked. “I just wanted you two lovebirds to have a memorable time."

You sighed, realizing Klaus's motives were often shrouded in layers of complexity. "Fair enough. It was, indeed, memorable."

He leaned in, his tone turning more serious. "I hope the robbers didn't rough you up too much,"

Your eyes narrowed. "Elijah told you about that?"

Klaus shrugged coyly, "I just hope it didn't dampen the mood,"

You frowned. "Are you saying you orchestrated that?"

“When Elijah told me he was to marry, I did my research," Klaus gave you a knowing grin. “I was confused as to why the human faction would marry one of their women to a vampire, they loathe our very existence. They treat their women like livestock, to be traded and bred, so why would they insist on a marriage when they gain nothing from it? Then, I learned you were a bit infamous for being promiscuous."

You blushed, hating the knowledge of your poor reputation spreading. “Great," you said sarcastically, unable to meet Klaus’ gaze.

“I knew Elijah would treat you with the kind of respect you had never experienced before and the faction wouldn't be pleased, when they obviously handed you over as a way to hurt you," Klaus continued, giving you a wicked grin.

“How perceptive of you," you replied sardonically. “I fail to see why having me attacked on my honeymoon factors in,"

Klaus leaned back, a self-satisfied smile on his face. "You see, my dear, Elijah has a weakness. He can't resist saving a pretty face, and most women can't resist his heroic charm. It was meant to be a bonding exercise."

“So you saw a way to break the alliance, by using me to manipulate Elijah," you responded, a mixture of disbelief and frustration coloring your tone.

Klaus's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Oh, my dear, alliances in our world are as fickle as the wind. I merely set the stage for the inevitable. The human faction, their minds poisoned by centuries-old prejudices, would never truly accept a truce with vampires. This little ordeal was just the spark needed to set the powder keg ablaze."

You sighed, realizing that in the world of vampires, alliances and betrayals were as common as the moon in the night sky. "And what if I had been seriously hurt?"

Klaus's expression turned serious, a rare glimpse of sincerity in his eyes. “I compelled that robber to rough you up, not kill you,"

Despite the reassurance, a lingering unease settled in the pit of your stomach. "So, what now? Are we on the brink of war?"

Klaus chuckled, the sound carrying a hint of danger. "War, my dear, is inevitable. It's just a matter of when and how. I'm merely expediting the process. The human faction will never peacefully coexist with us. It's in their nature to fear what they don't understand."

You leaned back, grappling with the weight of the revelation. The idyllic honeymoon, orchestrated by Klaus, was nothing more than a chess move in a larger game of power and dominance. You were a pawn, unwittingly playing your part in a conflict that seemed destined to unfold.

"And what about Elijah?" you asked, your gaze piercing Klaus's calculating façade.

"Elijah will do what he must to protect what he loves," Klaus replied cryptically. "As will I."

“Well, just so you know, what you did wasn't even necessary," you replied, the flames from the fireplace dancing in your eyes. “Elijah and I had already bonded before the attack,"

Klaus let out a soft chuckle and stood up, “Elijah generally has that effect, I was just ensuring it," he teased. “Welcome to the family love," with that, he departed, leaving you equally annoyed and amused.

Elijah returned shortly after, wearing an expression of irritation. He settled down beside you, casually draping his arm over the back of the sofa behind you.

You smiled at him. "Bad meeting?"

He let out a tired sigh. "My brother has decided to be insufferable. But that's nothing new… I heard him come by here afterwards, what did he want from you?"

You turned to him, giving him a teasing smile. "Oh, you know, just trying to find out how the honeymoon was."

Elijah raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Did he mention how he set us up?"

"Yes," you replied with a chuckle, “he definitely gives interesting wedding presents."

Elijah's gaze softened. "I am sorry for my brother's antics."

"Well, I suppose it all worked out, except that we are now on the brink of war," you said with a teasing smile, leaning closer and kissing him.

Elijah brow furrowed and he sighed deeply, not returning the kiss. You gave him a concerned look, cupping his cheek as he avoided your gaze. “Care to go for a walk?" he proposed.

You nodded, a hint of anxiety bubbling within.

The journey led you to a quiet park bench overlooking the water. The night was still, the sky painted in inky black hues, and the only sounds were the distant hum of crickets and the gentle waves hitting the rocks.

"I want to discuss something important with you," Elijah spoke quietly, avoiding direct eye contact.

“The breaking of the alliance will have consequences, and you will be in the crossfire," he explained seriously, his hand finding yours. "This marriage puts a target on your back. I offer you your freedom—you can leave. I'll provide all the money you'll ever need, and you can make a real life for yourself, far away from this world."

In contemplative silence, you looked at Elijah. His expression held profound sadness. Though you hadn't known him for long, you understood the depth of his selflessness, doing what he believed was right, not necessarily what he desired.

"Elijah," you said softly, reaching out to cup his cheek. "You are the first person in my life who actually cares about me, and in return, I care about you. I'm not going anywhere."

"You won't have the life you deserve with me," he asserted, placing his hand on yours. "You can go, find a love you choose, have children, do whatever you want."

With a deep breath, you gazed into Elijah's eyes, unwavering in your determination. "I take my vows as seriously as you do," you asserted, your voice steady. "I choose you, Elijah."

He nodded to himself, his gaze shifting to the tranquil water. In a sudden, graceful move, he moved off the bench and dropped to one knee, looking at you with a serious expression, his eyebrows slightly raised. Elijah removed his daylight ring, extending it towards you.

"What are you doing?" you asked in surprise, chuckling at his gesture. "You are ruining your pants, kneeling in the dirt."

"Will you be my wife?" he asked, a gentle smile gracing his lips.

"Pretty sure I already am," you laughed, reaching out to pull him back to the bench, but he playfully slapped your hand away.

He chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with affection. "This time, it's your choice,"

A warm smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you realized the sincerity in his eyes. "Yes," you answered, your voice filled with a mixture of joy and affection. "I would be honored."

Elijah's eyes softened, a genuine happiness reflecting in them. He slipped the daylight ring onto your finger and then pulled you into his arms. In the warmth of that park, surrounded by the night's stillness, you kissed him. Then, you uttered those three powerful words for the first time. "I love you, Elijah."

His eyes, already soft with affection, seemed to deepen in emotion. A wide smile spread across his features, and he pulled you even closer, as if wanting to etch this moment into eternity. "And I love you."

Epilogue

The sun streaming through the curtains roused you from sleep, and as you turned, you found your husband still in peaceful slumber. His serene expression intrigued you, wondering about the pleasant dreams that might be occupying his mind. You rested your head on his shoulder, snuggling close and listening to his deep breathing. He let out a soft sigh and a gentle grunt as he woke, kissing the top of your head sleepily. His arms wrapped around you, as he rested his head on yours.

Your fingers traced a path down his chest and torso, igniting a warmth that intensified between your legs. Slipping beneath the blankets, your hand settled over his boxers, sensing his arousal growing beneath your touch.

"Hmm," he mumbled, his finger gently lifting your chin, tilting your head upward, and capturing your lips in a kiss.

A smile played on your lips as you returned the kiss, your hand continuing its slow, teasing strokes through the fabric.

Elijah responded with a low, appreciative hum, his hands exploring the curves of your body as the intensity between you two escalated.

With a subtle movement, he guided you onto your back, breaking the kiss only momentarily. His eyes locked onto yours, a deep intensity reflecting in them.

“What does my lovely wife desire so early in the morning?" He teased, his lips mere inches from your own.

You let out a soft laugh, feeling the warmth of the morning sunlight creating a cocoon around the two of you. "Mmm...I have a few ideas," you whispered, your voice carrying a hint of playful mischief.

He grinned, his eyes brightening as he lowered his head, his lips grazing your neck. Your eyelids fluttered closed, as you sighed in contentment. The sensation of his mouth and hands elicited a series of breathy moans, a warm ache building between your legs.

“Does my wife need me to fuck her into our bed?" he asked in a soft tone, his hands parting your legs.

You bit your lip, your eyes meeting his with an intensity that mirrored the desire growing within you. "Desperately," you admitted, a playful gleam in your eyes.

Elijah's hands traced a tantalizing path up your thighs, and his lips met yours in a hungry kiss. “Already so wet for me," he murmured in your ear, his finger brushing over your clit, causing your hips to twitch. Elijah continued to touch you with slow deliberate circles, each movement bringing you closer to the edge.

Unable to resist any longer, you tugged at his boxers. Elijah positioned himself between your legs, the anticipation in his eyes mirroring your own. Eagerly, you reached down, freeing him and rubbing the head of his cock against your wet core.

“Tell me what you want," he whispered, his voice a sultry invitation.

A breathy moan escaped your lips as you met his intense gaze. "I want you," you admitted, desire lacing every word.

Elijah's eyes darkened with a mixture of passion and possessiveness. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly entered you, and a simultaneous gasp of pleasure escaped both of you.

He set a pace of slow, deep strokes, the soft, wet sounds of your bodies colliding filling the room. His eyes were locked onto yours with such intensity that it made your heart skip. The love you shared being conveyed through the physical.

You both moved to a familiar rhythm, his fingers intertwined with yours, pressing them next to your head. The pleasure mounted with every movement, and the warmth from the sun beaming through the curtains covered you in a comforting embrace. He captured your lips again in a soft kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours, as he continued to fuck you at an agonizing pace. The combination of his kisses and the slow, steady thrusts were driving you wild.

“Elijah," you moaned as your climax began to build, the intensity of it threatening to overwhelm you.

Elijah lifted his head, a smug, satisfied grin spreading across his face. "You are so beautiful when you moan my name like that," he commented.

Elijah kissed you again, and then his lips grazed your neck, his teeth nipping and sucking gently on the sensitive skin. Your breaths came in short gasps as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

You let out a low moan, as his cock began to hit your sweet spot with every stroke, a wave of pleasure running through your body. He continued his movements, his hand finding its way between your bodies, and his thumb stroking your clit.

"Come for me, darling," he murmured, you could feel his warm breath against your neck.

Your head fell back and your eyes closed, as you focused on the feeling of his cock moving in and out of you. A tingling sensation ran through you, and the familiar warmth spread across your body, as you climaxed.

Elijah groaned as you clenched around him and he leaned back, tossing the blankets off of you and splaying his hands across your thighs and pushing them wider. He increased his pace, rolling his hips into you to maintain his deep strokes.

“I can't believe you are all mine," he said in amazement.

Your body trembled with the aftershocks, and you could already feel another orgasm building within you. Elijah continued to rock his hips, and you whimpered with pleasure. He pulled almost completely out, and then thrust back into you, hitting your sweet spot, and making you cry out.

The sensations were overwhelming and you were desperate to hold onto this moment for as long as possible.

“Elijah, please," you begged, not even knowing what for.

He leaned forward as his fingers tugged on your hair, tilting your head back and exposing your throat. His lips grazed your skin, then he began sucking hard enough to leave a mark. He moved to your mouth, capturing it in a rough, possessive kiss, his tongue tangling with yours.

The sensation sent shivers through your body, and you were so close to the edge that you felt your toes curling.

"I want you to come for me again," he whispered, his words sending a thrill of pleasure through your body.

"Oh, Elijah," you moaned.

“No pretty wife, that's not what I want you to call me," he said teasingly, slowing his pace down and grazing his fingers over your clit once more.

"Husband ," you moaned, feeling a rush of heat through your body as the word slipped from your lips.

"Good wife," he praised.

He continued to move his hips in a torturously slow rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. His thumb pressed harder on your clit, rubbing circles, and you writhed, moaning as he brought you closer to your second orgasm.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him against you, needing him, craving him, wanting him more than anything in this moment. Your breaths were ragged as you kissed him, your body trembling as your eyes widened and your back arched as a second orgasm washed over you. You tightened around him and you felt his hips buckle, his thrusts becoming erratic.

He let out a deep moan, burying his face in your neck. Your hands ran through his hair and you pulled his head up, pressing your lips against his. You moaned into his mouth, and you felt his hips buck as he emptied himself into you, the sensation causing your hips to rise and meet his, the waves of pleasure consuming you both.

He collapsed beside you, breathing heavily, and pulling you close, as you both bathed in the warmth of the morning sun.

You rested your head on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comfort.

You felt Elijah's lips brush against your forehead and his fingers tilt your chin upward. His eyes were soft, a tenderness reflecting in their depths.

"I love you, my dear wife," he murmured.

You smiled, your lips meeting his. "And I love you, my dear husband."

Thanks for reading Part 3!

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{Part One} {Part Two}

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aloesarchives · 8 months ago

Text

The Echoes from Yesterday: "The Ghost of His Yesterday: Her" (Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader) (1/3)

TW/Warnings: Female Reader/Pronouns, Profanity, Pure Angst, Angst No Happy Ending, Minor Character Death Mentioned, Toji cannot cope, Reader Highkey Hurting

Pairing: Toji x Fem!Reader, Megumi x Fem!Reader(Platonic/Parental)

Reader/Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 9.09k words

[!!Edited and Proofread as of 3/13/2024 6:35 pm CST!!]

Love isn’t the easiest thing in the world.

But you were unaware how loving a broken man would be onerous. A decision that would lead to an immense heartache, something you failed to realize until it was too late.

You knew he was still mourning her, and rightfully so. She was his first and only love, the only woman he ever gave his heart towards.

You weren’t asking for much. You didn’t want to replace her. No, never in a million years. You only hoped wished Toji would allow you to love him. To make space in his heart. To have a chance of slowly laying his heart open like he had done before with her.

Unfortunately it never came, not once during the duration of five years being together.

You meet Toji by chance at the supermarket store not too far from your residence. You never paid much attention to him until he brought a 5 month old baby boy. He was a silent but curious little one with his green eyes looking at anything.

Funny enough, the baby boy named Megumi was the reason you and his father even interacted. It was a random day where you were in the fresh meat section, looking at the deals they had for the day. You were focused on finding what you needed when a small gurgle snapped you out of your trance.

You glanced over to the little cherub looking up at you, smiling with his two bottom teeth barely showing. You gave a warm smile with a small wave his way. This made Megumi more giddy and vocal as he let out a few babbling giggles. You let out a soft chuckle seeing him bouncing in his seat while flailing his arms. The jingle of his teething ring followed his movements until it slipped out of his chubby hands. You were quick to catch it, hating to see him sad.

Handing it back to him, you were caught off-guard when he grabbed your hand. His attention was now off the toy and onto you. Megumi held onto you as he smiled like the little cherub he was. You, however, were a little concerned when realizing his father was out of sight. As cute as Megumi was, you didn’t want to cause trouble with his dad for interacting with you. Just as Megumi loosen his grip, you heard a low chuckle behind you.

“Megumi, you’re in a better mood now than earlier. Is it because you’re bothering her?”

That’s when you meet him, the towering man who also was the father of the little baby that caught your attention. His eyes met yours and something in your heart flickered. He was attractive, a glaring observation. But the way his grin highlighted the scar on his right side of his lips caught your attention.

“Sorry about my son, Miss. He’s a little troublemaker and a rascal.”

You playfully snickered at his harmless insult for Megumi.

“It’s fine. He’s quite the cute baby. I don’t mind the trouble at all.”

You don’t remember the details of that small interaction. But you knew you would see both of them again. Surprisingly, Toji walked you to your car. Although you thanked him, your wandering eyes caught a glimpse of gold on his left finger.

‘Oh…’

You knew better than to mess with marriages and have affairs. But you felt disappointed knowing Toji is married. But hey, he treated you nicely and respectfully. So maybe you could be an acquaintance or even a friend if you’re lucky. It was a weekly encounter with the man and his son, always having small talk while you entertained Megumi. Weeks turned into a month, then a month became six months.

After some time, you grew comfortable around them as you always looked forward to seeing them each week. But you noticed a key detail that felt off: where’s Toji’s wife? The mother of Megumi, where is she?

You thought she was working or a very busy woman. So during one of your weekly interactions, you asked Toji about the whereabouts of his wife. The question was meant to be harmless, you didn’t mean to pry. But the change in Toji’s face and his body going stiff showed you’ve crossed a line.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Toji! I didn’t mean to be nosy about your personal life! If it’s a sensitive topic, you can drop it and I’ll never bring it up again.”

Toji knew it was the only matter of time before you asked the question. More so, he’s anticipating your reaction to his answer more than your question itself. The guilt washing over you seeing the tall well-built man deflate in front of you. His callous hand slowly rubbed his face, pondering at the question that you threw into the open. He sighs before facing you, seeing your face full of shame and embarrassment.

“Toji, you don’t have to. I was out of line for–”

“No…No it’s fine, (Y/N). It’s just…I can’t really talk about something like that here. If we were in private, I can give the answer to your question. You free tomorrow?”

As much as shutting down Toji’s invitation would’ve brought your dignity back, something inside told you to go through with it. And so you agreed to it.

“I am, are you okay with noon? The weather is doable around that time and I don’t want to make Megumi sick. There’s this cafe where we can meet up. It's hidden in one of the side streets and has privacy booths if that's okay with you. You want me to send the address to you?”

“Yeah… That’ll be great, (Y/N).”

He relaxes in your gaze but it feels like you trespassed onto treacherous waters. The next day, you waited for Toji outside the cafe. Frequently looking between your phones and the busy street of people to see any sign of the duo. Before you dial his number, you spotted the familiar gray jacket and a stroller heading your way.

You waved in his direction to catch his attention which worked because his gaze connected with yours. You smiled at him as he made his way over before peaking in the stroller to see a baby Megumi sleeping, covered in his puppy baby blanket. You walk inside and a server already takes you to a secluded booth. You ordered your drinks ahead of time and they were ready once you sat down. Toji’s drink is easy, straight up black coffee with no sugar or creamer.

The two of you talked for a bit. Well, you were beating around the bush from yesterday's topic. Taking your anxiety by the throat, you finally had the guts to repeat your question from yesterday. Your abruptness didn’t startle Toji as he took a good sip. His answer was unexpected, one which was dreadful than his assumed replies you thought of.

“My wife died last year…She had an unknown illness the doctors couldn’t figure out even though they tried everything. But it was catching up to her faster than the doctors could work. Megumi was only barely 3 months old when she passed away…”

You didn’t know what to do. Yes, you wanted to comfort Toji but you didn’t know what to say. By the looks of things, it’s just him and his son. He has no other support from families on both sides. No friends either to lean on. You're probably his only friend he’s ever made. He was a single dad trying to take care of his son after the sudden death of his wife. But you were empathetic to him, Megumi, and their situation. You offered to help him out with Megumi, not out of pity but out of compassion.

“If it’s okay with you, I can help you out with Megumi. My work hours are short and early in the morning. That’s why I’m always available after 12:00 pm. I’m off during the weekends too. It wouldn’t be much of an inconvenience to me at all…You need help raising Megumi, Toji…”

His lips form into a sneer momentarily before returning to a straight line.

“Was it that obvious, (Y/N)?”

Carefully, you selected your words to not sound patronizing towards him.

“No…It wasn’t, at first. But after what you just told me…I think you need some extra hands to deal with this. It wouldn’t hurt to ask for help, Toji…”

He really didn’t want to…He knew you’re a kind individual when he laid eyes on you. You were different to him, being good-natured…something that was awfully similar to how his late wife was like, especially how you treated him when you two first met. He couldn’t let you be dragged into his own shortcomings as a father. You were young, 23 to be precise. You had a future ahead of you, you couldn’t slow it down for a single dad and his kid. Yet here you are, offering your help to him with no form of repayment whatsoever. It was genuine too, he could feel it when you offered a soft tender smile towards him.

He grins and allows you to help him and his son out. Though your smile didn’t change, he felt his heart rate doubled when your eyes became soft like your smile. You two left the cafe and walked along the city. Cutting through a nearby park, the two of you were in a conversation as the park’s flora were in the early stage of blossoming. You two didn’t get far as you heard some rustling coming from the stroller. Pausing your conversation, you and Toji looked inside to see Megumi stir himself awake. He slowly rubs his eyes as he sits up. Still rubbing the sleep out his eyes, he let out a whine causing Toji to stop. You raise an eyebrow observing Toji as he picks up Megumi. Then, from a whine came a small sniffle, the sniffle turned into a small sob. You watched Toji comfort a crying Megumi. Rocking him in his arms and rubbing his head gently.

Yet nothing was working to calm Megumi. By instinct alone, you wanted to comfort Megumi. Yet, you felt hesitation take over. Reeling back and forth between your two emotions, you decided to step in and hold out your hands towards Toji. The man gave you a strange look before slowly handing you his son. Once in your arms, Megumi’s crying had slowed to a stop. As you held him in your arms, you slowly rubbed his back while humming. Toji never admitted out loud but seeing how his son calmed down in your arms made his heart erupt into a feeling he wasn’t so used to.

From then on, you helped Toji out with raising Megumi. It was some work but you didn’t mind it at. Picking up Megumi from school, watching him when Toji was away or busy, running errands for Toji, and helping around their apartment, etc. You soon learned he was a quiet baby. Besides the occasional crying, he was silent for the most part when he wasn’t excited. You also noticed he’s only happy when he’s around either you or Toji. Showing it through his little baby ways, making you become attached and affectionate of Megumi. It only grew as you watched Megumi grow up.

Over time, taking care of Megumi became a part of your routine and eventually life. You grew fond and close with him. Though it was unofficial, it felt as if he was your own son. During that time, you and Toji grew close as well. A year into your involvement in his and his son’s life, you ask Toji if he liked you. To which he responded with “Yeah…Actually, I like you a lot, (Y/N)...” At the time, you felt relieved that your feelings were mutual. Seemingly the next 5 years with him and Megumi would be bliss. But that should’ve been the first sign something was up.

Although you’re not one for paranoia, you felt things between you and Toji were off as the years passed. There were little things here and there like not always holding your hand outside, lack of nicknames, and curt answers when you ask him about his day when he comes home. But you concluded it was your tendency to overthink.

However, everything changed when Megumi called you Mama. He had just turned four when he said it. Normally, he would call you “(Y/N)-san” when he’s with you. You were waiting for him as usual on the day it happened. And on the dot, you see Megumi come out with his teacher with a piece of paper in his hand. You walk up to them to retrieve Megumi from his teacher but Megumi starts to fiddle with his paper, which worries you a bit.

“Megumi, why don’t you show her what you made today in class? I think she would love it.”

His teacher gave him an encouraging smile that pushed Megumi to show you what he drew. It was a picture of three stick figures. One had a scar on the line that you assumed was the lips, a smaller one that looks like Megumi, then another that looked like you.

“Aw, Megumi. Did you draw us?”

“Yeah, because you’re Mama, (Y/N)!”

You didn’t know a child could bring such warmth and a feeling of belonging, but Megumi did. You open your arms and he goes in without hesitation. You hug him tightly before patting his head.

“Thank you, Megumi. I love it. Let’s go home now, we have to get groceries for dinner.”

Megumi nods before saying bye to his teacher. You allowed him to talk your ear off as you got ingredients for dinner. You were in a good mood, indulging him as he talked about what he did in school. Coming to their home, you got to work with dinner while Megumi did his homework on the living room table. Once Toji’s home, dinner was ready and Megumi put his school bag away, leaving out his drawing. After eating and cleaning up, you finish washing the dishes when Toji comes into the kitchen looking at the paper in his hand. It was Megumi’s drawing from school.

“Megumi drew this, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah, he drew it during school. He showed it to me when he picked it up. It’s pretty sweet of him. He was so excited to show me.”

Drying your hands on the towel nearby, the kitchen became awfully silent. You turned to Toji and see him still looking down at Megumi’s drawing. Yet, his hand started crippling the paper. Sensing his change in mood, you went up to him to see if everything was okay. You placed a comforting hand on his arm but he jolted his arm to move it off. Surprised by his action, you tried to meet his eyes. Once he did, they were filled with anger. He looks back and forth between you and his son’s drawing. It looked as if he wanted to say something but his clenched teeth prevented anything from coming out. He lets go of the drawing, letting it fall on the ground before turning on his heels to go into his bedroom.

“I need to calm down, (Y/N)...I had a rough day… Just give me space and don’t come into my room.”

You would've protested, but he was fast and left the kitchen instantly. You slowly kneeled to look at Megumi’s picture, a pain throbbed inside your heart when you saw how much the paper was crumpled by Toji’s death grip. Your pain continues with a mix of worry as Megumi’s drawing of you with the title of ‘Mama’ above was creased the most. You calmed yourself down by taking a deep breath, unconsciously holding the picture close. You made sure the kitchen was clean before going into Megumi’s room. The moonlight peaking through the blinds of his window, you can see he was knocked out cold. Placing his drawing on his night stand, you pet his hair before kissing his forehead goodnight and closing his door gently. You went to Toji’s room, knocking on it to make your presence known. When you didn’t hear anything, you let out a sigh before telling him you were leaving with a goodnight following afterwards.

Once you closed their apartment door and sat in your car, a sinking feeling began to creep into your stomach. Though not painful, it wasn't going away no matter how hard you tried to calm down. Not understanding why you felt the sudden rush of anxiety. You didn’t know it back then but perhaps it was your gut feeling warning you something bad would happen. But you would have never thought it was be the downfall of your relationship with Toji.

That’s when the arguments started happening. Well, they weren’t arguments if Toji was the only one yelling. You tried diffusing the situation while not getting emotional yourself. All for the sake of not disturbing Megumi. You tried your best to calm him down, asking what made him feel this way. That he can talk about anything that’s bothering him and you can help him.

But how can Toji say what’s bothering him when it’s you.

Nonetheless, you already knew it had to do something with you. Even if it wasn’t spoken out loud, the strain between you and Toji involved you in some way shape or form. But to know it was because of people around you two, specifically Megumi, seeing your dynamic in the relationship. You couldn’t help but feel hurt knowing Toji was rejecting you, let alone being mad at you for being involved in his and Megumi’s life.

Out of respect for Toji, you would correct anyone and everyone when they see you in public with Megumi. Especially when Toji is with you two. Unfortunately, some of the ‘arguments’ happen because someone commented how you cared for Megumi or the cute little family you three are.

While you would've been content with the compliment, you knew you had to shut it down because you weren’t Megumi’s biological real mother, nor Toji’s wife. Saying you were a close friend rather than girlfriend since it didn’t feel right either. You even corrected Megumi’s school teacher too.

“Actually, I’m not Megumi’s biological mother. I’m just a friend of his father that helps out. That’s all.” As you left with Megumi, his teacher felt confused and melancholic by your answer. To her, you were his mother from the way he talks about you in class.

You begin to correct Megumi whenever he tries to call you Mama. It didn’t matter where it was, you tried making it a habit for Megumi to just call you by your name. At first, Megumi followed along with it. But as time went on, there were slip ups. To a point Megumi didn’t want to refer to you as (Y/N), he wanted to call you Mama. You’ve now understood why Megumi calls you Mama because you acted like one. The only one he’s ever known. The aching pain you felt when you forced yourself to correct him grew. For a child not of your blood to call you his mother, it's an honor and blessing. However, you don’t think Toji would agree.

You had a feeling there was something else you were unaware of that’s got him like this. And it wouldn’t be until your recent ‘argument’ with him is when everything clicked. While carrying the laundry basket of freshly folded towels, you accidentally bumped into one of the photos and knocked it to the floor. The glass covering shattered and pieces of it fell out. It wasn’t a loud smash but loud enough for Toji to come and see you trying to clean up the pieces.

“What are you doing, (Y/N)?”

You flinched at how dangerously low his voice sounded, teetering on frustration. Still kneeling on the floor, you slowly look up and see Toji towering over you. You could never forget how huge and daunting he appeared, or his eyes as he looked down at you.

“I accidentally knocked the picture frame over and it broke. I’ll clean it up, Toji. I promise–”

“No…Let me do it…”

“But Toji, I was the one who made the mess. At least let me–”

“I SAID LET ME DEAL WITH IT, (Y/N)! JUST FINISH PUTTING AWAY THE LAUNDRY AND THE DAMN TOWELS IN THE BATHROOM!!!”

That was the loudest you’ve heard Toji yelled, louder than he spoke to you before. Scrambling to your feet, you grabbed the laundry basket and scurried away into the hall. Though you looked over your shoulder for a split second, you saw Toji crouching down to pick up the broken frame. Then, you caught the glimpse of which photo you accidentally broke. It was a solo picture of his late wife, smiling brightly in a field of sunflowers. The truth began to resurface no matter how much you tried to suppress it. Biting your inner bottom lip to not let a single whimper escape, your eyes glazing over with tears. As you walked further away, you didn’t miss the sniffle from the other direction. Or how Toji didn’t ask if you were okay or hurt when he came to check it out.

As you busy yourself with your chore, everything started to fall into place.

His lingering eyes whenever he saw a small family together or a mother with her baby. The way his gaze had a hard time tearing themselves away from a married couple enjoying their day together. His eyes were full of frustrated longing and desperate yearning. You never dwelled on it thinking he zoned out. Now, your memories become crystal clear that he always had sad eyes. You noticed because he had them when Megumi took his first steps towards you. Smiling and giggling as you coaxed him to continue walking until you caught him in your arms. You were so happy, proud of this milestone of Megumi’s. Then looking over at Toji, you saw his smile but his eyes told a different story as he replayed the video he recorded on his phone.

They were always there, right in front of you for the past three years.

Then came the distancing, his spontaneous rage, lack of intimacy, and the prevalent resistance in allowing Megumi to accept you as his mother.

Now you know, after piecing everything together…

Toji’s longing was wishing his beloved was there with him. It should be her playing and caring for Megumi, not you. It should’ve been her with him and his son, their complete family. But she was gone and you were here instead.

It all went back to her. His late wife and Megumi’s mother…

You didn’t know when it started but you knew your exact feelings when it did. Every time you look at her in the multitude of photos around the apartment, a wave of bitterness and jealousy envelopes your heart like a suffocating hug.

With it came resentment. Then hate, hatred towards her, his wife and only love. Oh how you wished you were Megumi’s mom instead of her. Longing to be her in order for Toji to love you. So you can be loved by him…

That’s when you caught yourself and the fresh thought that left your mind. Once you grasped that thought of yours and the feelings behind it, you were mortified with yourself. How could you ever think like that about someone? Someone who’s life was cut too short and unfairly when it was just getting started? Towards the deceased wife of the man you love and mother of the boy you grew to love as your son?

‘What’s wrong with me…WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME!?!?’

Never in your life have you felt disgust for yourself until now. Ashamed of how you allowed these deprave emotions to fester from within for so long. This was beyond unhealthy, almost demented to feel towards someone you have never met before. Not only was this detrimental to your relationship with Toji and Megumi, it was detrimental to yourself to harbor feelings that would eventually corrupt you.

But another thought popped up in your head, a realization that completely shatters your heart.

There were barely any photos of you with Toji and Megumi. Let alone any pictures of you around their home, no traces of you. It was like pouring salt in a gaping fresh wound. That’s when you knew Toji didn’t love you. Nor was he ready to love again. The distance he kept no matter how much you gave yourself to him, helped him, or opened up to him. The walls you tried so desperately to break stood tall and thick, your hands bleeding the more you clawed at it. Your attempts weren't taking you anywhere.

No matter what you did, Toji always kept you at a distance. That after five years of being with him and Megumi, nothing has changed or is willing to.

For it to take three years to have this realization, you bitterly laughed at yourself for staying so wistfully blind to the writings on the wall.

The situation was complicated. This was complicated. You don’t blame Toji for mourning the loss of his first and only love. But it had been almost five years since then. You understand everyone mourns differently and in their own way. Grief never truly goes away, you only learn to coexist with it. But Toji’s grief cuts deep and runs long, making his yearning for his late wife strong. Stronger than what he has with you. To his credit, however, Toji doesn’t hate nor is meant to be hostile toward you. In fact, he deeply cares about you. Yet, he fears by letting you in like he did with his first wife meant he would be replacing her. To forget her and what they had together, moving on from her. Toji was a man with very few fears, but this was one of them and it terrified him to no end.

And yet, here he was. Self-sabotaging himself because of longing, fear, and grief.

Toji knew the reason why your relationship is at its current stage is because it was his fault. He knew he was pushing you away, keeping you afar but within reach. This was all his doing, and yet he can’t bring himself to fix it. No action, no fight, no attempts of saving what will become of your relationship.

It is selfish of you. You never made it your mission to replace Toji’s first wife and the mother of Megumi in their lives. But you wished Toji would give himself a chance to love you as you already did for him. In the end, you couldn’t force Toji into something he wasn’t ready for which pains you immensely.

You couldn’t stay with him, continue being with Toji. Not when this is what you and Toji’s relationship has become. Unlike any sane person, you were reluctant to leave because it meant leaving Megumi behind. You have grown so attached to him, treating him so fondly and tenderly. Of course you did! You watched this kid grow up for the past five years! You remember when Megumi was a baby with no teeth, now he’s a growing toddler who can speak full sentences. Megumi was in a fraction of your life, but you were there for all of his. Then the thought of you, the only mother figure he’s known his entire life, to suddenly leave and never return made your soul howl in agony and anguish. Megumi shouldn’t be caught up in this but he was right in the middle.

You soon left once you were done, your heart bearing an excruciating weight with each passing minute. This wasn’t good for you, neither is it for Toji or Megumi. So you had to make a decision, a devastating one that would befall on everyone involved. But it was the only way to not hurt yourself and put you through hell anymore. As you drive home, you recall a crucial conversation with your best friend. The memory grows stronger as you deal with this relationship.

‘‘WHAT?!? Excuse me, (Y/N). But can you please run it back for me one more time?’’

You were having a hangout with (Best Friend’s Name). Due to lack of align schedules, you haven’t been able to physically fill her in on your personal life. Though when an availability arised, you didn’t expect the hangout to go this route. Then again, it shouldn’t be a surprise to you.

‘‘Okay, okay, okay. Let me get this straight, (Y/N). After almost five years of being together, Toji still hasn’t moved on from his late wife? Doesn’t want Megumi refer to you as his mom even though his own dad doesn’t say anything about the kid’s own biological mother to him? Then blows up on you for the smallest things even though you’re genuinely trying to help?’’

Your silence was everything she needed for an answer. A sigh was evoked from her as she took a deep sip of her espresso latte.

‘‘(Y/N), I love you to hell and back but you need to get out of this relationship. I haven’t met Toji myself so I can’t jump to conclusions. However, I do know his hurting is becoming yours. It’s seeping into you, (Y/N). You’re only trying to be by his side, nothing more and nothing less. But this isn’t good for you, (Y/N). Both for your physical and mental health. I can tell that you are stressed by how tense your posture is, and I know you long enough to know you’re not so rigid.’’

You sat there stunned, was it that noticeable? (Bsf/n)’s eyes look at you through her cup, unchanging by your shocked expression. She inhales deeply, feeling the gravity of the situation before you did.

‘‘I…just didn’t even notice, (Bsf/N).’’

‘‘Well you should. As your best friend and sister by bond, I’m just looking out for you. Meaning, you deserve better, (Y/N). This is unhealthy and you know it yourself. You deserve someone who will love you for you, not hold you to a standard of their previous lovers. Someone who values what they have together with you, not endlessly yearning for something of the past.’’

‘‘(Bsf/N), please—’’

‘‘(Y/N), I’m being serious. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not shitting on Toji for grieving over his losses. But if he’s not willing to accept your help and presence, then he never will, no matter how much you wait. If Toji is stuck in the past and can’t be here in the present with you and his OWN son, he’s going to stay in the past. It sucks that you are suffering from this when you did nothing wrong… And Megumi… Fuck, (Y/N). He’s suffering too, this isn’t going to be easy if you fall through with it. But I need you to know that your health is your top priority and I will have your back one hundred percent. If you even needed, you could live with me. I’m just a call away, (Y/N). Remember that, please.’’

Megumi knew something was off when he saw you two were waiting for him. The gap between you two that was once miniscule has become wide and spacious. Other’s assumed it was to make room for Megumi himself. But the kid knew something was amiss when your smile was paired with dimmed eyes, sad eyes. He’s never seen eyes like that before, and frankly, it was scaring him.

Megumi is intelligent for his age, too intelligent for his liking. He knows that his dad has changed around you within the past few years. Honestly, he hated it because he saw more frequently you were lost in thought. Absentmindedly doing chores but your body devoid of your loving aura.

Unfortunately, this was causing the young boy to become frustrated with his father. Especially when he hears Toji’s yelling at night, the walls muffling the true volume of Toji’s voice. Knowing you were the one it was being directed towards. It got worse when Toji told him you weren’t his mom.

Wasn't his mom? Who was then? The smiling lady in the numerous photos around the apartment? “Okay, yeah sure, Dad,” Megumi thought.

He knows of the woman in the photos, but Megumi doesn’t know her. He doesn’t believe that’s his mama when you have taken care of him his entire life. Genetically, he doesn’t have anything from you. But you treated him like the moms of his classmates. Therefore, you were a mom, his mom.

He doesn’t like the fact his dad is denying it, seeing how it’s starting to take its toll on you. But the poor boy didn’t know how much damage had already been done. For that reason, his gut feeling told him to hold you close for dear life. He couldn’t explain it as his vernacular being limited for his age.

So he breaks out in a sprint towards you, not his dad. You blinked a few times before looking down at Megumi hugging your knees tightly. You and Toji gave each other a look before you crouched down to be at Megumi’s level.

“Megumi, what’s wrong?”

He shakes his head as you rub his back softly to coax him into saying something. He was not budging and you gave Toji a concerned look. Toji sighs before proceeding to pick up Megumi.

“Come on, kid. Time to go home.”

But as soon as Toji’s hands were a few millimeters away from his son’s body, they were immediately smacked away. He stares with wide eyes at what just happened. Megumi didn’t care as he clung to your neck for dear life. Knowing Megumi was going to throw a tantrum, you and Toji decided it would be best for you to hold him.

On the walk home, Megumi’s answers were curt. A simple yes or no. You ruled it as him being cranking with a needed nap. Once home, you put Megumi down but he was glued to your bottom clothing for dear life. He never left you alone for a second. If you went to the bathroom, he’ll simply wait outside the door for you. Megumi also didn’t spare Toji one glance or spoke to him at all. It lasted up to dinner too. Megumi only answered and spoke to you only. If Toji did ask him something, he gave a plain answer.

Toji thought Megumi had a bad day so he let it slide. After putting in Megumi for the night, Toji sat at the table reading the newspaper while you washed the dishes. Tension wasn’t thick but it was there. Present enough that a rug couldn’t hide it. The both of you knew what the tension was about, it was who will be the one to bring it up first. The standoff lasted a few minutes when the first voice spoke, your voice.

“I don’t think we can continue on like this, Toji…”

Your words falling like dominos, setting off the inevitable confrontation.

“I can’t…I can’t have this relationship with you anymore, Toji.”

Although the man in question knew this was bound to happen, it didn’t stop him feeling a pinch of fear and guilt once it came.

“(Y/N), don't be like that. We can work this out–”

“Can we, Toji? Because every time we did, it always ended in an argument. The ones where you’re the only one yelling while I just take it…”

Once mentioned, Toji’s shame slowly took over his body. He was aware he always yelled at you, putting you through pain when you don’t deserve it. You never deserve any of it really. But Toji couldn’t bring it to him to apologize and make it up to you. Was it because he knew you would forgive him every time? Or was it because you allowed it to happen for the sake of keeping him and Megumi happy? He took you for granted, now he was facing the brute force of his consequences.

“Toji,” You paused before sighing. “I’ve been with you for five years yet our relationship hasn’t changed. I don’t know what I’m even to you… This has been the most confused and lonely I’ve felt. I know you stopped loving me, Toji…If you even loved me at all.”

Toji grunts and clears his throat, placing his paper down before looking at you.

“(Y/N), it’s not like that.”

“Then what is, Toji? Tell me, be honest and open your heart to me just this once. Tell me, truthfully, what this is to you? What am I to you?”

“I care about you, (Y/N). I like you a lot. I really do”

There, that was it for you. The nail in the coffin. This wasn’t the last straw that broke the camel’s back, but it confirmed everything that was already there. All telling of how Toji felt and saw you. You didn’t let it surface but you would have winced at the last part of his answer. ‘Like’, he’s always said that. Not once has an “I love you, (Y/N)” has left Toji for the past five years. Now knowing it will never come. It was decided from the start.

“Then I guess this is it for us, Toji.”

Before Toji could ask you what you meant, a muffled crying could be heard from Megumi’s room. You inhaled deeply and exhaled some of the weight off your chest before hanging the drying rag by the sink. You look at Toji with somber eyes before heading off to his son’s room.

“We’ll finish this in the morning, Toji.”

You peaked your head into Megumi’s room seeing the boy sniffle as he closely clutched his stuffed dog you got him. You closed the door softly and kneeled down by Megumi’s bedside. Making your presence known, Megumi looked up and jumped into your arms. You hugged him close, patting his back.

“I wanna sleep with Mama.”

Your breath hitched at the word. You loved when Megumi called you mama, but you weren’t her.

“You wanna sleep with Papa instead of (Y/N), Megumi—?”

“No! I wanna sleep with Mama!”

While you were a bit blown away by the kid’s declaration, you honored it as it would be the last time you get to hold him like this.

“Okay, I’ll sleep with you, Megumi.”

You set up a spare futon from Megumi’s closet and placed it on the floor. Tucking both of you in, you kissed his forehead as you held him close.

“Goodnight Megumi…I love you…”

“G’night, Mama…I love you too…”

Toji finds the two of you asleep. He could go sleep in his own bed but decided not to. Not tonight, at least, because he didn’t want to be alone. You stopped sleeping in his bed a year ago but Toji still didn’t get used to your absence in his bed. Even if he was the reason why you stopped.

He joins the two of you on the floor. Megumi on your right as you lay on your side, back turned towards the empty space Toji decided to occupy. His fingers and arm itched to pull you close, to hold you tightly against his chest. While battling his temptation, an image flashed in Toji’s mind. It was fast but Toji can make out what it was showing him.

Megumi was laying on your chest, snoozing away as you slept peacefully. Then the next image shows Toji with a gentle smile as he caresses your cheek then his hand moves to pat Megumi’s hair. Oddly enough, he didn’t hate his mind for conjuring up that imagination. He welcomed it earnestly.

He satisfied his itch by loosely draping his arm over your side. To him, this would suffice his need to be close, to be near you. To hold you in a somewhat intimate way before you disappear from his life.

For a kid his age, Megumi has impeccable social awareness and perception. But with that, he struggles to properly describe the situation with his limited vocabulary. It’s morning of the next day, and he notices you still hold the same eyes from yesterday. During the morning, he constantly asked if you were okay, if you needed something, checking up on you any way a child can. However, you replied you were just tired and under the weather, always sending Megumi a smile every time he asked. You didn’t want to worry the young boy for the truth will traumatize him and shatter his innocent reality.

Toji knows the evitable will happen as he hears Megumi be concerned for you. Even so, for you to not involve his son is something he’ll silently be grateful for. As Megumi plays on the floor by the coffee table, you and Toji finish off the conversation from last night.

“(Y/N), we’ve been together for five years. You can’t simply throw it away.”

“Five years doesn’t mean anything, Toji, if the relationship doesn’t change or grow. Also, how can you say that I am throwing all of this away when it became one-sided for half of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was like that from the start.”

Toji’s eyes closed in on you as you stood your ground. You were leaning on the counter while he was sitting at the table. You looked at him exhausted and defeated. How come Toji is so adamant on keeping this alive when he was the main reason you made your decision? Was it guilt? Loneliness? Manipulation? It could be all three but you didn’t have enough in you to question it.

“Fine then, I’ll admit I haven’t been treating you the best lately. I shouldn’t have exploded on you like the way I have for the past few months.”

“You have been doing it for almost a year, Toji. Not a few months.” You stoically corrected Toji.

Toji sighs once again, but it wasn’t out of frustration. Rather it was out of acknowledgement.

“Then I apologize for it. I knew what I was doing but I was stubborn to say sorry. But we can’t end like this, (Y/N).”

“No, Toji. That’s not how that works. Even your apologies won’t fix this. ”

“Then say it, (Y/N). Why are you breaking up with me after being together for five years—?” Toji says as he gets up and slowly walks towards you. Aware how he uses his size to intimidate and coax answers from people, you got used to his antics.

“Because Toji, you’re not ready. Even after me being by your side and through everything, you are still not ready to be in a serious committed relationship.”

Toji raises an eyebrow and squints his eyes at you. His action doesn’t phase you, as you stare back with unshaken eyes.

“What makes you say that, (Y/N)? How are you so sure about me not being ready–.”

“Then tell me, Toji Zen’in, you love me. I have been saying I love you to you since the second year out of the five. I know I loved you, Toji, and no one else. If you say it back to me and truly mean it, then I will get down on my knees and formally apologize for my assumptions and accusations towards you.” You spoke unwavering and firm, no sign of tremble or stutter as your eyes held the same expression.

Like a deer in headlights, Toji stood frozen with wide eyes. He was caught off guard by your statement. To say he loves you wasn’t such a hard statement but it held so much significance. The last time he said those words with utmost conviction was towards his late wife. Now he had to say those words in order for you to stay. Toji deeply cares and looks out for you in ways you aren’t aware of. But for you two to have this conversation meant he wasn’t fulfilling his role and promises to you. He let his fear of love and vulnerability hold him back in your relationship and you suffered from it. His throat snapped shut when he tried to fill the air with words to buy himself time. Toji’s mouth was open but nothing came out, not the fabled three words to make you stay.

Seeing his mouth open but devoid of an answer, the door you kept open for so long now quietly shuts itself. Locking out whoever it was available for, purposefully locking Toji…and Megumi…out of your life. With a crestfallen smile, the stare you held softened as you shook your head.

“I’ll see myself out then, Zen’in-san. It’s unfortunate what we have had to end like this. But do know I don’t regret this or my love for you and Megumi.”

Megumi is standing by Toji as you say goodbye. You hugged Megumi tight, soaking in the warmth of the kind child one last time before you walked out of his life forever.

“Megumi, promise me you will be a good and kind boy, listening to your papa?”

Megumi nods while being pressed to your shoulder.

“I have to go, Megumi… I love you…”

Megumi breaks away to look up at you, staring into your eyes. There was a slight warmth to them making him break into a small smile.

“I love you too, Mama…”

You smile warmly to him one last time, memorizing him so he wouldn’t fade from your memories. You kissed his forehead before entering your car and driving off. Toji didn’t get angry at what you said to Megumi. Nor did he when Megumi referred to you as mama. He was feeling too downhearted at your departure, his son waving at your fading car in the distance. Unknowingly that would be the last time Megumi would ever see you.

Megumi waited for you the next day, asking for you. Toji thought he could avoid giving Megumi the truth but he caved in when he started to miss your presence.

“She’s gone, Megumi…(Y/N) won't be here anymore…Mama’s not coming back to us anymore…”

Then a loud sob escaped the child, his voice shrill and full of heartbreak. Megumi’s tears were endless and no amount of comfort from Toji could calm him down. Toji can hear his son cry out your name and ‘Mama’ during breaks from his wailing. Megumi’s wailing only stopped because he completely cried himself to exhaustion. Even when Toji tucks him into bed, Megumi’s whimpers for you in his sleep. Toji closes his eyes as he sits at the kitchen table alone and cold. His face in his hands as his reality comes crashing down on him. He should’ve fought you to stay, fought to keep the relationship, to make it up to you so you wouldn’t leave them. To leave him alone with his son.

Fully dawning on him that he misses you, your smile, your laugh, the sound of your voice, your kindness and compassion. He laughs at how ironic the situation is. He has the audacity to take you for granted after everything you’ve done for him and Megumi. Took your love and loyalty for granted after being with him for five years. Then now you rightfully leave and he gets all depressed and heart-broken even though it’s all his fault. Toji lets his tears freely fall from his face as he lost another person in his life. But why does your departure leave a huge hole in his heart? More gut-wrenching and devastating than of his late wife’s passing?

He ponders on it as he sits with his lonesome pathetic self. Not realizing the spot he sat in was your designated seat at the kitchen table.

This wasn't easier on you either. As you drove away, your eyes kept flickering between the road and the rearview mirror. Forcing yourself to catch Megumi’s wave as he and Toji become specks in the background. The drive wasn’t long but it felt like an eternity getting to your place. Becoming agonizingly slow due to sensing your breaking composure and the dam of tears cracking as the minutes past. Parking in front of your place, you let everything loose. You didn’t stop the rush of tears nor held in your sobs any longer. You cried your heart out inside your car, not finding enough energy to do it in the confines of your apartment. You didn’t care how crazy and pitiful you looked to any passersby. You needed this out of your system because the pressure of your emotions became too much. After a good 30 minute crying session, you take a deep breath while sitting in the car.

You fished for your phone and dialed a phone number, wiping your tears away with a sniffle. The phone rings three times before the call goes through.

“(Y/N)? Is everything okay?”

“(Bsf/N)…Remember what you said a while back? I hope you can honor it…Because now’s a good time for it…”

“Hold on, (Y/N)…I’m coming over. Give me seven minutes, hang in there for me.”

The call ends as you stare up at your sunroof, seeing blue hues of the sky bleeding into orange. You laid back into your seat. Focusing on your breathing as your arm draped over your eyes. Your body ached and stung everywhere. Though you were done crying, your heart was in a million pieces and lost all of its warmth. You mumbled out something as you waited.

“I’m so sorry, Megumi…Mama is so sorry…”

A week later, Toji goes to your apartment complex to attempt any possibility of trying again. He walks up to your door and knocks. Around this time, you would usually be home and decompressing from the day. He didn’t see your car but it’s probably getting an oil change. You did talk about getting one soon in the upcoming weeks. He would have knocked again if it wasn’t for one of the neighboring tenants.

“Hi, um, sorry to bother you, sir. Are you friends with (Y/N)?”

Toji’s fist froze mid knock as he turned to the young woman who addressed him.

“I am, actually. I just needed to talk to her.”

“Oh, I see. Excuse me for intruding but unfortunately (Y/N) doesn’t live here anymore.”

Toji’s breath got caught in his chest along with his heart to a standstill. The only thing Toji could feel was the light breeze that passed by. He slowly pivoted his body to face the tenant, looking at her with a strained expression.

“I’m sorry. What do you mean she doesn’t live here anymore?”

“Some time last week, she sold her space and moved out. All within a day too. No one knew she was leaving, but it didn’t look like she was rushing to leave. I ran into her actually after she turned in her keys. I asked her why she was moving. Her answer was she found a place for a good deal and it was closer to her work so she took it. It’s a shame, she was a really good neighbor too. Everyone in the complex loved her.”

Toji felt his blood freeze over and his hand became clammy. Last week was when you broke up with him but he didn’t know about this. You never mentioned moving or finding a new place when together. He mentally curses himself at how fast you were slipping away.

“Thank you for the information, Miss. Did she mention where she was moving by any chance?”

The woman thought about it but shook her head.

“Sorry, but she didn’t say where. I would assume the heart of the city but that’s me guessing. Sorry that this isn’t much.”

“No, it's fine. Thank you for your help, I appreciate it. I’ll leave now so I’m not trespassing here.”

Toji goes to leave but the tenant remembers something.

“Wait! Excuse me again, but I just remembered something else. When I was talking to her last week, I couldn’t help but notice her usual smile doesn’t reach her eyes. Her eyes felt sad like they lost some sort of warmth to them. I didn’t want to be rude but I can tell she was dealing with something painful. If you manage to run into her, please make sure she’s alright.”

Toji’s heart starts to bleed at her observation. He really fucked up, didn’t he? So bad that people are starting to notice it. He could’ve had a good life with you and his son, he looks back on it now. He could have had it all but he self-sabotage himself, ruined everything for him, for you, and even for his son who his late wife asked to take care of as her dying wish.

After thanking the tenant, Toji books it to the heart of Tokyo. He tried calling you but an automated voice told him the number he dialed was currently out of service. You changed your phone number too? He searches through the crowds, hoping to find you in the raging sea of people. Any sign of you, just anything for him to know you were here. But you were gone without trace, just as he did with you in his apartment. With no chance of seeing you in sight, Toji curses himself once again at his undeserving nature and carelessness. He goes back home defeated, wondering what life will be like now without you in it.

Looking out the window, your eyes wandered to the busy streets below. Your mind is wondering about what Toji and Megumi are up to. It was a painful relationship, no doubt about it. But you couldn’t deny the warm memories with Megumi or how Toji treated you early on. Though they can’t be with you anymore, you could never forget those two no matter how much time passes.

You desired for things to have gone differently and worked out in the end. Unfortunately, you can’t change what has already happened.

This was your new life.

You wish things didn’t turn out this way but life goes on, even without them in the picture.

Tag list:

@ploylulla @lillycore @sillyfreakfanparty @viatorem-maris @luqueam

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withahappyrefrain · 2 years ago

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So I've thought a lot about how big an asshole jake would be if he introduced bob to his soulmate but I've only just considered how much would change if bob introduced jake to his... checkmate bagman

I love this idea so much. This can also be seen as a follow up to He's All That!

"All I'm saying, Baby on Board," Jake continued as he racked up the pool balls, "Is that it's the least you can do, considering that if it weren't for me, you'd still be single."

"And all I'm saying bagman is thanks again for your help and you'll get a shoutout in the ceremony," Bob sighed before taking another sip of his water. With the way Jake was bothering him, he was debating switching to beer.

"Jacob Floyd has a great ring to it and would be a wonderful way to honor the man responsible for your future children."

"All you did was tell her his name and that Bob was single," Mickey retorted, shaking his head as he grabbed a nearby pool stick.

"Summarizing what I did as merely telling her his name is insulting beyond belief. I sold Bob to Luna. Without me, she wouldn't have gone looking for him," Jake scoffed.

Unfortunately the woman of the hour was not here to confirm or deny if Jake was telling the truth or making up shit as he went along.

"And without us, he wouldn't have had those three shots to give him enough courage to continue talking to her," Bradley countered.

"Nor would I had bumped into her because you took my glasses," Bob muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Besides, Bradley Floyd sounds way better," He remarked, ignoring the scoff from Jake.

"Wait, why do you get a kid named after you?" Mickey chimed in.

"All I'm saying, is that you'd much rather start your kid off right by giving them my name than Bradshaw's."

"Why, you little-"

"Bob has to propose to her first before there are any kids to name!" Phoenix chimed in, pressing her beer bottle to her temple, hoping it would somehow take her away from all these idiots.

"He's working on it!" Bob had revealed earlier that he finally picked up the ring for her, which was what prompted this whole conversation.

"Working on what?" A sweet, lithe voice promptly caused everyone to shut up. Everyone, except Bob ironically.

"Hey darlin'! Where's your friend?" Bob asked before placing a kiss on his girlfriend's cheek.

"She's on her way! I was going to wait outside for her, but wanted to say hi first," She paused, a sweet smile overtaking her face, "Hi Robby."

"Hi Luna," Bob giggled before planting a kiss on her lips that was so sweet, the nearby squad groaned.

"They're so stupidly cute," Phoenix muttered.

"I'm going to go wait for her," Luna was about to turn when she stopped, her eyes meeting Jake's, "You ready Bagman?"

Jake scoffed to cover his confusion, "Ready for what?"

She giggled, the bridge of her nose creasing as she smiled, making it impossible to be annoyed with her, "To meet your future wife!"

And with that she left, practically skipping out of the bar.

"Floyd, what the hell is she talking about?" Jake asked, turning his full attention to the bespectacled WSO, one had an uncharacteristic smirk on his face.

"We're not going to name our kid after you. Instead, we're going to introduce you to your future wife." Bob was pretty confident for once, not at all shaken by having all eyes on him.

"I'm sorry?" was all Jake could find himself saying.

"Don't worry Bagman, you'll love her. She's perfect for you."

"Floyd, no offense-"

"Offense already taken."

"But your idea of the perfect woman is a bit different from mine."

It wasn't. In fact, it was pretty similar. But Bob knew Jake wasn't ready for that conversation yet.

"Yeah Bob, you sure this girl is right for Hangman?" Phoenix lowered her voice, "You really want to subject her to Bagman? How bad is she?"

"She's perfect for Bagman," Bob assured her, not that if convinced Nat-or anyone else. Certainly not Jake.

"Whatever baby on board," Jake scoffed, "Just know that when she comes crying to you, all heartbroken that she's not....."

His voice trailed off as his eyes fully took in the sight of the sun dress-clad figure that was now next to Luna at the bar.

"She's not the what?" Javy asked, nudging Jake.

Javy received no response, as Jake was too mesmerized by how fucking adorable you were when you pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

He could see that you were listening to Luna intently as she pointed out people in the dagger squad.

When your eyes met his, Jake swore he could feel the Earth stop moving.

"The future Mrs. Seresin," He said with a dreamy sigh, causing Bradley and Natasha to wonder if somehow an alien had taken over his body. Because that would make more sense the other alternative.

Jake all but shoved the pool stick to Javy, his eyes focused on you. The smile and small wave you sent his way caused Jake to nearly trip over his feet.

"Where the hell are you going, the game isn't finished," Mickey called out to no avail.

"I'm going to meet my future wife," Jake said, annoyed that he even had to explain it because wasn't it obvious?

The squad watched in wonder (except for Bob, who still had a smug look on his face) as Jake made his way over to you and Luna.

"Bob, this girl seems sweet. You sure you want to subject her to Bagman?" Bradley asked, legitimate concern in his eyes.

Bob shrugged, "She teaches seventh grade. She'll be able to put Bagman in his place just fine. See?"

The group watched as you handed Jake several bottles of beer to hold. Jake was more than happy to oblige, staring at you with what could only be described as heart eyes.

Luna skipped ahead, giving the squad a thumbs up as she sat down next to Bob.

"How's it going darlin'?" Bob asked before pressing a light but sweet kiss to her cheek.

"Bagman tried to kiss her on the wrist and she lectured him about how it's not the 1950s," Luna giggled while everyone else stared at her in shock.

Everyone except for Bob.

"He apologized profusely. That's also why he offered to carry the drinks."

"Has he ever held anyone's drinks besides his own?" Mickey asked.

"Better question, has he ever apologized within five minutes of offending someone?" Bradley countered.

"He sure as fuck hasn't," Natasha's eyes widened at the sight of Jake fucking Seresin offering the crook of his arm to you. After staring at the gesture long enough to make him sweat, you hooked your arm around his, letting him lead you back to everyone.

"Bob, what the fuck did you do?" Reuben asked.

"He just needed someone to soften the edges!" Luna explained. Natasha was about to scoff at the mere idea of Hangman being soft.

But then she saw how gentle Jake was when he offered you his stool and handed you a beer. The smile he had on his face was just that, uncharacteristically soft.

Maybe Bob and his lady were onto something.

"Hey Bagman!" Bob called out.

"Yeah?" Jake turned around, trying his best hide his annoyance at Bob interrupting the conversation he was having with you.

"Robert Seresin has a great ring to it."

#my writing #jake seresin x reader #Bob Floyd #jake seresin #Hangman fluff #hangman x you #jake hangman x reader #hangman x y/n #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman fic #jake hangman seresin

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savannahsdeath · 1 year ago

Note

hi Savannah!!! was thinking abt this idea for a while and thought that your amazing writing would so do it justice. maybe popular Ellie! x loser-ish s/o and they’re going to prom together. readers parents or Joel (whoever’s house they’re at) could be taking pictures and commenting on how cute they look together. after they end up going to prom and they’re so happy and cute with each other. maybe some angst where like someone’s makes fun of readers dress or something. they could be like jealous of reader since she’s kind of a loser and Ellie’s more on the popular side, idk. do whatever u want. bye!!!

POPULAR!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

warnings: none i think ?? just reader having a mean fake friend;(((

writers note: omg anon i love u !! you and your idea !! i had to stand up and start pacing around my room writing it cus ohmygod .

your dress hugged your figure, the fabric stretching with every movement, clinging to your curves. it shimmered as you walked, catching the light as a slight glimmer. it draped down to just above your ankles, a slit on the side accentuating your legs. you stood in front of a full-body mirror, trying to decide if you should keep your hair down or...

"come on, babe!" ellie shouted from the hallway, quickly making her way to you. "you ready?" she gave you a hug from behind, loosely wrapping her arms around your waist. you stared at her reflection. she, obviously, wasn't wearing a dress but a white, formal shirt decorated by a messily tied tie, probably stolen from joel. and somehow, she still looked so attractive.

she spun you around, pressing her lips to yours with a light hum. "i hate these little school parties." she admitted, still standing suspiciously close to you. "but at least i get to see you in pretty dresses."

you smiled, fixing her tie before tugging on it and turning around to walk away. she followed you everywhere like a puppy, tangling your fingers together anytime she had the chance to.

"i'd rather stay home." you agreed with a slight shrug.

she filled her glass with water, not letting go of your hand as she drank. "and what would we do?"

as she finished, you took the glass out of her hand and put it in the dishwasher, knowing she wouldn't do it herself. "i'm sure we'd come up with something."

you heard someone clearing their throat, making you slightly jump. it was joel, standing in the doorway, scanning both of you with his firm gaze.

"what do you think?" ellie proudly wrapped her hand around your waist, bringing you as close as possible.

he nodded with a barely noticeable smile. "she looks like a millionaire's wife." he pointed at you with his chin.

you looked down, trying to hide your flushed face.

"well, of course." ellie huffed, her hand stroking your side. "and i'm the millionaire."

"hell no." he immediately shook his head. "you're just a random homeless man." you giggled and she immediately gave you a disappointed look, as if to judge you for finding joel's taunting funny.

"homeless men have good style." she rolled her eyes, before adding a; "sometimes", and slowly guiding you to the living room.

"hey, kiddo, you know i'm kidding." joel's smile widened. "you both look great."

she mumbled a quiet; "whatever", though you could tell it reassured her, so you turned to joel and mouthed a silent thanks to him, knowing ellie would be in a bad mood for the next few hours if he wouldn't take his silly insult back.

joel wouldn't let go so easily, trailing after you with his phone covered in the, typical dad's, flip case. he raised it, telling you to pose.

"joeel—" ellie whined. "we had a deal, no pics."

you laughed, playfully nudging her. joel frowned, still focusing his camera on you. "your girlfriend's parents would definitely want to see how you look." he insisted, but she persistently shook her head. he managed to stealthily take a few photos of you both, smirking as if he just did the most illegal cheat ever.

"how do you feel now, ellie?" he asked, shooting a video.

"what do you mean?" she frowned, though it wasn't visible on the camera, since she didn't bother to turn around.

"you know, you're growing up." he shrugged. "you probably want to move out."

she was propping herself against the countertop, suddenly stopping doodling something in her diary. "what did you just say?" she turned around, seeing joel catching her reaction on the camera.

he laughed and stopped recording, sharing a chuckle with you. "just kidding, just kidding, no need to stress. it's not like i'm kicking you out."

"yeah, i fucking hope so." she muttered, looking away with an annoyed expression.

joel huffed, though the amusement was still palpable in his tone. "language." he warned with a toothy smile.

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

"i'm not into girls, but jesus-" a voice from one of the bathroom cabins sighed. even though you couldn't tell who said it, you felt the admiration in the girl's voice.

you and ellie sat on the windowsill, listening to their conversation. overhearing wasn't fair, but how could you miss out on something like that? they were talking about your girlfriend, after all.

"and her girl—" someone added, but the previous girl mockingly laughed. "c'mon now. she's all right, but out of ellie's league." another mocking laugh. "and somehow, they're still together." "i dunno, maybe she's rich." rich? so people think ellie's with you because you pay her for affection? "i just don't believe in the good personality bullshit. and it definitely aren't the looks either." the voice continued.

you heard the sound of glasses hitting one another, as if raising a toast, though it was probably an accident. hiding in the bathroom to drink and talk shit, how mature.

"she's just as fine as ellie!" someone's annoyed voice rang out. "you're tasteless as fuck if you really believe what you're saying. now," another bang of bottles, "drink up." the voices took a break to down their glasses, before the argument continued. "okay, i admit, no one's better than williams, but still—" "no fucking way. m' not hearing you out!" another pause, way shorter this time. "oh, hey, sorry for talking like that about her. i forgot— you two are friends, aren't you?"

a third voice, one that stayed silent before, spoke up; "no, we're not." you quickly recognised the tone of your best friend, or at least a girl you thought is your best friend - layla. you opened your mouth to shout at her, but ellie brought you closer to her, gently covering your lips to keep you quiet. meanwhile, layla continued; "i don't know what ellie sees in her, either."

your eyes immediately watered up and your puffy lips trembled against your lover's hand. she pulled you closer to her, stroking your hair and planting little kisses on your forehead or nose. you sniffled, but the hiding girls didn't seem to hear it.

suddenly, one of them - the meanest one - started excitedly squealing; "look who texted me!! look, look!" you could see the dim light of phone screen from the gap above the floor. they packed their things, slowly spilling out of the cabin. and, well, when they finally noticed you and ellie, she had her lips persistently pressed against yours, making them freeze. she pulled away and stood up, giving them a nonchalant look. "hi, girls." she winked, extending her hand for you. you dragged her out of the bathroom, and when you were finally out of the girls' sight, you burst out laughing.

ellie smiled, though your sudden joy seemed weird to her, and her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "what?"

without answering, you continued tugging on her hand, letting go only when you were at the dance floor. you wrapped your hands around her neck as she placed hers on your waist, still surprised by your actions.

you rocked back and forth to whatever song was playing now, thinking of how to explain your reaction to ellie.

eventually, you just softly chuckled again. "i love you, els."

her frown disappeared, replaced by a look of pure affection she felt towards you. "i love you too."

she brought you closer to her by the grip she had on your hips, and your arms slowly withdraw, stopping when your hands reached her cheeks, cupping her face. you shared a long, slow, passionate, but most importantly - real kiss. you forgot about all the people surrounding you and focused on her tongue, which softly lapped against yours.

#reqs open #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #popular!ellie williams x reader #popular!ellie x reader #popular!ellie williams #popular!ellie #prom

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waynes-multiverse · 8 months ago

Text

Rehab – Epilogue

Series Summary: Thanks to Soldier Boy, the CIA was able to develop Project Bloom under the fierce leadership of Grace Mallory: a final cure to Compound V and a hopeful end to the supe epidemic three years after the explosive incident at Vought. A secret rehab facility in Upstate New York is supposed to help former heroes find their way back to humanity. The catch, though? Soldier Boy has never fucking agreed to any of this shit and is surely not happy about being powerless for the first time in his goddamn long life.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, some crack, a bit of fluff and angst, hard decisions, a lot of goodbyes & all the feels

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: We're here, babes! End of the road! Thank you guys so much for everything. This was a wild ride, and I'm glad I had you in my passenger's seat 💚

Feedback is my fuel 🖤

<< Chapter 8 || Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Epilogue: twin flame

You’re gonna be nowhere The loneliest kind of lonely It may be rough goin’ Just to do your thing’s the hardest thing to do…

“Morning.” Y/N smiles brightly as he stirs and slowly wakes. “Wakey, wakey, sunshine.”

Blue eyes flutter open and fearfully widen, his brow scrunches in confusion as he looks around and scans his environment. He tries to wiggle free of the handcuffs around his wrists, keeping him tied to the metal bed frame.

Not that it matters – he can’t leave either way.

She turns off the radio with a blissful sigh. “You know, that was one of his favorite songs. Your father’s,” she clarifies. “He sang it all the time. It was fucking annoying.”

“Why the hell can’t I move? Get me the fuck out of here,” the man in a sky-blue hospital gown demands and lifts his head off the mattress, only a few inches, attempting to get up.

Needless to say, that attempt is futile and fails miserably.

“Don’t strain yourself, John, or you might shit the bed. And I ain’t cleaning that mess… You’ve been in a coma for three weeks,” Y/N tells him with an amused smile. “Oh, and you can’t move because you’re paralyzed from the waist down. I even doubt that meager dick’s still working.”

His nostrils flare and let out a huff. “It’s Homelander, you bitch. No one calls me by that name.”

“Yeah, not anymore.” Y/N twitches her shoulders in mock apology. Her mouth curves into a Machiavellian grin. “Scared yet?”

“Where the fuck am I?” he growls through gritted teeth, upset by her blatant disrespect.

“You’re at a rehab facility for former supes. I mean, it’s discontinued. Abandoned, really. It’s just you and me,” she replies flatly and then forces a customer-service smile to her lips. “So, guess I’ll be your nurse for the day. How are we doing, you–”

Her brow furrows as she tries to remember the exact words, pensively pursing her lips.

“Wait…” She holds up a finger to stop him from interrupting her as she fishes out a crumpled piece of paper from her jeans pocket. She squints her eyes in concentration as she skims over its content.

“Ah yes!” With a smile, she clears her throat and reads from her paper. “So, how are you doing, you bootlicking… carpet-munching… cockboy?”

Homelander frowns at the insults. Y/N does too, but for a different reason as she shakes her head.

“Jesus fucking Christ, your dad’s handwriting is an atrocity,” she mutters as she tilts her head with narrowed eyes at the paper in her hands.

The blond man’s eyes narrow in both shock and confusion. “How do you know my father?”

“Oh, uhm, I’m his wife,” Y/N says and smiles complacently. “Which technically makes me your step-mommy, but let’s not go there, you–… Wait.” She peeks once more at the paper in her hands. “You cumguzzling… cowfucking… cuck fluffer.” Her brow draws up, impressed. “Huh, nice. Little alliteration going on there. Guess all those books paid off…”

“Can we skip to the part where you tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?” Homelander snaps impatiently, annoyed with the shenanigans.

“Alright, your dad sent me here to, you know… gloat,” Y/N says simply and shrugs, flashing him an easy smile. “He wanted you to know that he’s the one that put you into this damn bed. Funnily enough, he once woke up in this very room, tied to a bed. Not in a kinky way, though. Although, he probably would’ve loved that…” She chuckles fondly. “This place really changed him, but I doubt it’ll do the same for you.”

“And why the fuck isn’t he here telling me this, huh?” John asks with a challenging look. “I didn’t reckon him for a fucking coward.”

Y/N’s facade cracks a little at his words, a vicious smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, he was not a coward. He was the bravest man I’ve ever known. He was and is a fucking hero and surely getting celebrated as one.”

Y/N leans back in her chair and grabs the remote from the bedside table, switching on the TV. A news report flickers across the screen. It’s a recording from a few weeks ago, but Homelander doesn’t know that. It shows a row of celebratory parades held all over the country. A statue of Soldier Boy is being erected next to the Statue of Liberty.

Homelander finally defeated. Soldier Boy dies a hero in fierce combat. America breathes a sigh of relief.

Homelander watches the news and reads the taglines as they scroll in front of his eyes. His mouth is agape in bewilderment before Y/N switches the television off again.

“Everyone loves him… and fucking hates you. Like spit-on-your-grave hate,” she summarizes and watches his face darken. She rises from her seat and smiles down at him. “Have a nice life chained to that bed till you rot to death, you dickfaced, inbred, garbage-eating fascist.”

With a wide smirk, she then leans down and whispers into his ear, “Those were my insults, by the way.”

“Well, he’s dead, and I’m fucking alive, which means I won,” Homelander snarls from the bed with a contrivedly triumphant sneer, rattling with his handcuffs. He’s close to an explosion, she can tell.

“Yeah, you’d be telling yourself that if it makes you feel better…”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N turns her back. As she marches out of the room, Homelander’s furious screams of agony haunt the clinic’s empty hallways, but there is no one here to hear them anymore.

Project Bloom has been disbanded. There’s only a handful of CIA nurses left, tasked to take care of Homelander until his hopefully slow and painful death. If someone decides to hold a pillow over his head at any point, she supposes she wouldn’t be that mad about it either.

Homelander is history. Soldier Boy is dead. And Ben is at rest.

Finally, Y/N can leave this godforsaken place behind her.

Y/N slides into the driver’s seat of her Prius, her head falling back as she exhales a long, exhaustive breath and rubs her temples. That damn brat gave her a fucking migraine with his whiny bitching.

“Finally,” it huffs from the backseat. “Took you long enough. How the fuck did it go?”

Y/N blinks into the rearview mirror and catches a set of expectant green eyes. Her hand drops from her temples as she chuckles.

“Your handwriting is horrible,” she says as a response and pulls out the paper, pointing at a word. “What the hell is that one?”

Ben leans forward between the seats and squints his eyes. “Mmh, pube flosser,” he supplies and frowns. “You didn’t use that one?”

Y/N sighs. “I think he’s got the gist without it.”

“Yeah, but that was a good one,” Ben mumbles and sighs disappointedly. “Did you play him the song?”

“Yes, I did. I played him the song and did everything else you wanted me to do,” she confirms patiently. “You know, you’ve got a weird knack for torture.”

“Thank you. It’s a gift.” Ben blushes and adjusts his baseball cap. “Did you sell it properly? You know, acting is a skill. The most important thing is to–”

“Ben! For the love of God, shut up or I’ll run you over with my car,” Y/N snaps. If he gives her one more acting lesson, she swears she’ll turn herself a widow.

“Fine.” Ben scoffs and rolls his eyes back. “Did he fucking buy it?”

“Yup, he surely thinks you’re dead. Like the rest of the world,” Y/N says and shoots him a smile over her shoulder.

He matches it and scratches his shaved chin, letting himself fall back into the seat. “Good. So, we’re done, right?”

“Yeah, he was the last stop on our list,” she replies quietly, her smile mixing with sadness. “How’s the arm?”

“Good, good…” He nods, his head bobbing thoughtfully as he clutches the scar on his right bicep. “Healing nicely. Finally got a real war wound. Always wanted one.”

“Okay, then… Let’s go, I guess.” With a heavy swallow, Y/N turns the ignition and starts the car.

“You know, I’d really love to kiss you now,” Ben notes, heartache swinging in his voice, and finds her eyes in the rearview mirror.

Y/N bites down on her lip and nods. “Yeah, wouldn’t that be nice…”

Three weeks ago…

A guard gestures down the hallway to the restrooms, but as soon as Y/N rounds the corner and is out of sight, she takes a turn in the opposite direction.

The good thing about a super secret government facility that’s not supposed to exist is that it only comes with the necessary manpower. There’s no abundance of guards at every corner. It’s quiet and desolate.

Moreover, no one expects a silly and weak human to cause any trouble. It surely has its advantages to be constantly underestimated.

Y/N finds the lab she’s passed on their way in, where she spied a glass fridge with vials of different colors. It’s guarded, but only by one person. It’s sloppy, honestly.

A flirty ambush, a stab to the neck with a dull pocket knife, a stolen keycard, and she’s inside. She drags the body in, too, leaving no trace of her crime behind.

Her fingers rummage through differently labeled flasks. There’s plenty of blue and yellow, but not the poisonous green she’s looking for.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…” she mutters to herself as she desperately searches every drawer, every goddamn cabinet of the laboratory.

Out of breath, she stops and grips her temples, shoulders slumping as her mind spins. She wants to curse and scream, but that would draw too much attention. She knows she’s running out of time. No one takes that long to fucking pee. Decisions have to be made quickly.

She grabs a blue vial.

Rolling down her sleeves, she walks nervously back into the control room. Neither Mallory nor Edgar pays her any mind. Everyone’s eyes are glued to Soldier Boy and Homelander. Father and son. It’s biblical.

It’s as if she isn’t even there.

Her veins twitch, her blood boils. It’s tingling in her fingertips.

“Little help would be fucking appreciated!” Ben yells as he wrangles with a defunct Homelander.

Stan Edgar’s smile. So vicious. So cold. So calculating.

She knows the air in the room is about to shift. Her hands ball into fists by her side, gather their energy.

He gives his command. She screams.

“No! That wasn’t the fucking deal!”

Edgar doesn’t even look at her fully. A sideways glance is all she’s worth. “Take her out, too.”

Mallory sees it first, her eyes widening when she realizes what’s going on. It’s too late to warn anyone, however, her cries for help unheard as the acid rots her throat.

Edgar and two guards are next, metal weapons melt and mix with a puddle of human soup on the ground. Then, she goes after the one that got away.

The third guard hurries inside the prison cell, but Y/N slips through the crack of the door before it slams shut. The first gunshot goes clean through Homelander’s spine, but the second is deterred and only strikes Ben’s arm as the guard bubbles to a pond, a hot spring in the concrete.

Ben clutches his bleeding wound with a hiss before his green eyes lock with hers. They widen, and it takes him a moment to make sense of it all.

“Y/N, what–”

He takes a step forward. She takes a step back.

“Don’t come near me,” she orders him with panic blinking in her eyes like a flashing alarm. Her chest rises and falls with every anxious breath.

He holds his palms up high, surrendering. “It’s okay.”

Ben carefully walks around her and steps over the bubbling human puddle on the floor. He peeks outside the door, purses his lips, and nods in impressed satisfaction.

“Those little blobs outside–”

Y/N bobs her head at his unfinished question. “Mallory and Edgar plus two guards,” she replies.

“Nice job.” He whistles lowly and shoots her a devilish grin, taking a step closer. “Gotta say, I’ve never been more turned on by you. I’m getting fucking hard.”

“Ben!” Y/N scolds and backs away from him until she’s pressed against the wall. “I told you, don’t touch me,” she warns him again.

Ben’s smile fades as he recognizes her fear. His features soften, the jokes disappear. “Hey, it’s alright. Twenty-four hours and you’ll be fine again. Just gotta get through it.”

Y/N shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes. Ben’s brow knits in confusion, his face stern.

“What-… Why are you shaking your head?”

A tear escapes and streaks her cheek. “It won’t go away in twenty-four hours,” she chokes out. “They were out of Temp V.”

Ben’s face drops at the realization. “No, no, no… Tell me you didn’t fucking do this!” he yells.

“They were going to kill you! What was I supposed to do?” Y/N explains tearfully.

“Die, Y/N! You were supposed to let me fucking die!” Ben’s jaw tightens as anger surges through his body.

“I didn’t let you die the first time! What made you think I would let you fucking die right now, huh?” Y/N cries through gritted teeth, her hands balling into fists. “Stop trying to kill yourself. You fucking promised me!”

Licking his lips, Ben swallows. He’s quiet, running a palm over his face while his mind races a mile a minute. “Okay… alright,” he says finally, his voice significantly calmer now. “Where did you get the Compound V from?”

“There’s a lab here,” she replies in the same calm manner.

“They got more?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Ben nods and finds her eyes. “Show me.”

Y/N presses her lips into a thin line, shaking her head once more. “No.”

His anger returns, nostrils flaring as his brow creases. “What d’you mean no?”

She swallows thickly. “Look, if you really wanna do this, then I won’t stop you,” she says, a pleading glimmer haunting her eyes. “But you finally got a chance. You can live the normal, boring life. You can go on road trips, see Mount Rushmore… I know you want to.”

Ben swipes his tongue over his teeth and averts his gaze. He pinches the bridge of his freckled nose, and Y/N can see that she’s right.

“I’m not even sure if I want powers,” she continues after a pause. “But at least this time it was my choice. And I don’t regret it if it means I got to save you, okay?”

When Ben finally looks at her, it breaks her heart. “I don’t wanna be alone.”

Y/N gives him a sad smile. “I know… And you won’t be. I promise.”

Their attention is then temporarily drawn to a groan on the ground. Y/N’s brow furrows as she looks at Homelander’s body and notices his fingers twitching.

“Is he still alive?”

“Looks like it,” Ben replies. But as Y/N gets ready to take care of the problem, he stops her, holding out his flat palm. “Wait, wait, wait… Judging by the wound, he’s gonna be a fucking vegetable. It’s a waste of a kill.” He then grins mischievously at her. “I’ve got a better fucking idea. The other question is: how the fuck do we get outta this place… alive?”

Y/N’s mouth opens, but she doesn’t have an answer aside from a helpless shrug for him. This is as far as she has planned. Actually, she hasn’t planned any of this at all.

“I might be able to help with that,” a woman’s voice sounds behind her.

Y/N’s eyes widen as she recognizes the newcomer, her mouth parting anew in both surprise and shock. Ben, on the other hand, furrows his brow and glares at the stranger as if she had just spoken Russian.

“Who the fuck are you?” Ben prompts and then leans closer to Y/N, whispering in her ear, “Kill her.”

Y/N frowns, but her eyes are glued to the young woman in front of her, the familiarity sinking in. “I can’t,” she grits through her teeth.

“Why the fuck not?” Ben asks now loud enough for everyone to hear, including their guest.

“Because I’m the president,” the woman replies, smiling complacently. “And an old friend.”

Ben’s brow creases even more. “President of what? Cunt-town?”

“The United States, Ben,” Y/N tells him flatly. If she could kick his leg right now, she would. Leave it to her husband to get them both killed.

“Wait, a skirt is president?” Ben arches an eyebrow and mutters, “No wonder this country’s going to shit…”

“Charming,” Victoria Neuman says with a small sigh, but seemingly unbothered by the old-school views. Much like Y/N, she ignores the comment and doesn’t take offense to it. “I can see why you married him,” she adds wryly, looking at Y/N.

“Technically, she wasn’t elected. She was Vice President till President Singer died… accidentally,” Y/N explains, knowing Ben only reads the paper for the sports section and the comic strip. She swallows the thick lump in her throat, her heart thrashing wildly in her chest.

“Ah, I know what that’s code for.” Ben smirks coolly. “Bold move. I can fucking respect that.”

“Yeah, God knows some old fuck’s approval is what I’m looking for,” Neuman taunts, the sarcasm dripping from her red-painted lips.

Ben’s face drops as a bit of anger bubbles up inside of him. That bitch is lucky he’s V-free. He forces a tight-lipped smile. “I’m just saying I would’ve done the same thing, okay?”

“No offense, but you’re too much of a moron for that,” Neuman replies dryly.

Ben’s nostrils flare as he grits, “Offense fucking taken.”

“Okay!” Y/N tries to cut the tension with a nervous chuckle, pushing herself between Neuman and Ben. “How about you just tell us what we have to do to get out of this one?”

“See? She’s smart,” Neuman says and smirks at Ben. “I’ve always liked you, Y/N. You know, when Stan and Grace told me their plan of getting you two involved, I warned them. But they just wouldn’t listen. Everyone always underestimates the orphan. I should know, and so do you. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

“Yeah, guess we’re MVP, after all, Nadia,” Y/N says and makes it a point to emphasize her real name.

Victoria just smiles in response. “So, since you took care of two problems for me, one in here and one out there, I have a proposal for you.”

“What is it?” Y/N knows she’s really out of choices. Either she agrees, or Ben and her will spend the afterlife together.

“I need a new Chief of Staff. I want you to do it. You’re smart, driven, and I know you wanna change shit around here. You wanna make a difference? This is your chance,” Neuman proposes. “You can’t take the cure again. It’s going to kill you. Trust me, we’ve done studies, and the results are not pretty.”

Y/N thinks for a few breaths. “What about Ben?”

“I guess he can live. It’s not like he’s a threat to anyone,” Neuman says and almost sounds bored. “Hell, for all I care, we can even make Soldier Boy a reformed hero for dealing with Homelander. He dies heroically in battle and quietly lives out his retirement in fucking Florida or some shit. We get him a big fucking statue. It’s good publicity.”

Y/N shares a look with Ben. “What d’you think?”

Thoughtfully, Ben clicks his tongue. He supposes it’s the best deal they can get, and declining it would probably get them nowhere, although he hates everything about it.

Swallowing, the former supe nods. “Alright, let’s fucking do this,” he agrees and states his conditions, “But for the record, I’m not moving to shit-ass Florida. I want a nice lake house in Minnesota.”

Victoria rolls her eyes. “Fine, whatever. Minnesota it is.”

“You okay? You ready?” Y/N checks as Ben has made it up the stone steps and halts in front of the big, red door.

“I don’t know. You really think this is a good idea? I’m not sure I can do this,” Ben says and insecurely eyes the entrance.

“You’ll do great, alright?” Y/N smiles encouragingly. “I believe in you.”

“I don’t wanna do this alone. What if I fuck up?” Ben asks.

Amused, Y/N chuckles. “Oh, you’re for sure gonna fuck up.”

The green-eyed man scowls. “That’s fucking reassuring. Thanks.”

“Look, this way you won’t be alone. I’ll wire you money every month and check in as much as I can, alright? You can always call me. This isn’t the end,” Y/N soothes his worries. “Maybe one day there’s a cure that’ll work, and we can be together again for real.”

She forces a weak smile to her lips, although she doesn’t believe her own words. But as long as Ben believes them, it’s enough.

“Okay.” Ben nods and takes a deep breath – in through his nose and out through his mouth. “I think I’m ready now.”

“Good.” Y/N sends him a smile. “You thought of a new name yet?”

“I’m still marinating on it,” Ben grumbles.

“Well, marinate faster. I have to introduce you.”

As they enter the orphanage, Y/N checks them in at the reception and fills out all necessary forms. Ben taps his foot nervously and scratches the back of his neck as they wait before one of Y/N’s former colleagues walks in with a little boy in hand, who’s no older than five.

Ben tries to smile but isn’t sure if it looks creepy, so he stops and opts for a more neutral expression. Y/N, however, immediately kneels down to the young boy and smiles brightly at him. It causes Ben’s heart to ache. She deserved to have all of this, but instead, she gave it all up for him.

“Hey, Benny,” she greets the boy. “You ready to meet your new adoptive parent?”

The boy scrunches his brow in careful suspicion as he eyes his future father-to-be. “I guess so,” he says. “Is that him? He looks like he drives a fucking minivan and offers candy to kids. Are you sure he’s not a pedo, Ms. Y/N?”

Ben purses his lips, biting the insides of his cheeks. The initial smile was definitely a mistake. They’re not off to a good start.

Y/N presses her lips together to muffle her snort. “Yes, Benny, I’m sure,” she replies patiently. “He’s cool, trust me.”

“Fine, whatever.” The kid rolls his eyes. “As long as he’s not fucking vegan like Ms. Teresa. They’re the worst.”

“Ugh, agreed! Do I look like a fucking plant-shitter to you?” Ben asks the boy rhetorically.

“No, you look like a fucking pedo to me,” the boy retorts.

Ben grins broadly at Y/N. “I like the kid. I think I get what you mean now. I see the resemblance.”

“Well, great. Glad you two are hitting it off… I think,” Y/N says with a crinkled brow, although a part of her is doubting her idea. Honestly, it’s wild she’s trusting him with a child. A year ago she would’ve thought that it was insane. “Alright, uh, Benny, this is, uhm–”

“Sam,” Ben proudly introduces himself with his fake name and shakes the kid’s hand. He then notices Y/N’s strange look. “What?”

“Nothing, just… you don’t really strike me as a Sam. That’s all,” she tells him in a whisper-tone, shrugging.

“Oh, really? Well, I don’t give a fuck. I love it,” Ben quips, grinning rather smugly.

“Fine.” Y/N sighs. She turns back to little Ben with a smile. “You guys ready to hit the road?”

“Where are we going?” Benny asks curiously and promptly takes Ben’s hand, dragging the older man through the doors. He’s been waiting to get out of the orphanage for a while, the excitement of finally being able to leave visible in every step he takes.

It’s a fresh start for both of them.

“Uh, Mount Rushmore,” Ben answers.

“Cool! Can we get burgers on the way there? I’m starving.”

“Sure can, kid.”

Y/N can see Ben’s initial hesitance until he eventually accepts it and eases into the situation, holding the boy’s hand tightly. He helps the kid into the car, even puts the seatbelt on, and shuts the door behind him.

Her heart twinges as she watches the two, wishing she could go with them if things were different. However, she knows the risk is too big. She would never forgive herself if she hurt either of them. She doesn’t trust herself enough yet. Maybe someday she can.

“You okay?” Ben asks as he sees the unshed tears brimming in her eyes. He’d dreaded this day for the past few weeks, hoping she’d still change her mind. He hates that this is goodbye, but he supposes he has to set her free now.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Y/N says with a forced smile, but a tear escapes and rolls down her cheek.

“C’mere.”

Y/N protests as Ben slings his arms around her and pulls her flush against him, holding her tightly. He hasn’t touched her since that night, but he doesn’t care anymore. He presses his lips against hers and tastes her one last time.

Breathlessly, Y/N withdraws and sniffles. “Are you fucking insane? I could kill you.”

Ben simply smiles at her. “Hey, if I die kissing you, then that’s a fucking great way to go out. ‘Sides, insanity is contagious,” he quips and sends her a wink. “Thank you… for everything, you know?”

“You’re welcome,” she says quietly and swallows harshly as the tears fall freely now. Not every film has a happy ending. “I guess I’ve done my job as your sponsor. You’ve been successfully rehabilitated.”

Ben snorts. “If by that you mean I’m fucking boring and responsible now then yeah, you’ve done your job.”

“You won’t be bored for long. The kid’s already trying to hotwire the car,” Y/N tells him, laughing.

“Wha–” Ben spins around and points a warning finger at the boy. “Ay! Hands in your fucking lap!”

The kid raises his palms in surrender and yells, “Hurry the fuck up!”

With a shaking head, Ben turns back to her. “Gotta watch that kid like an eagle,” he mutters. He exhales a dreaded breath and licks his lips. “So, I guess this is goodbye, huh?”

Y/N smiles softly, the corners of her mouth reaching her dimples. “Maybe.”

Little Ben gets me every time 😂 Alright, now you may yell and complain, but I love this bittersweet ending 🥲 (But of course, you're welcome to send in requests. Whether it's deleted scenes, bonus shots of a potential future, or some fun Big Ben/Little Ben drabbles)

Thank you so much for reading, for your gifs and comments! It's so appreciated! Without them, this would only be half the fun 🤍

I'll announce future plans soon. The final five of Plastic Hearts will probably be next up. Get ready 'cause it's another wild one! 🌟

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