#then this is hard again but I would say the last patrol I KNOW I’M BIASED but if not then crossroads. or bastogne

[ww2yaoi]

okay band of brothers warriors. in the tags I want to know what you think is: the episode with the best visuals/cinematography? the episode with the best acting? the episode with the best narrative/plot? and then tell everyone what your favourite episode is overall :3

[wintrwinchestr]

an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on. 

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression. 

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand. 

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it. 

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state. 

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap. 

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows. 

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you. 

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches. 

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against. 

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can. 

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain. 

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…” 

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is. 

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[cellophanejpeg]

sink your teeth into my flesh | s. hanta

s: Sero’s jealousy flares once more after you reconnect with your high school crush during hero patrol, rekindling old memories and ugly insecurities he had buried deep inside. Just how far would he go to show you he's only trying to protect you?

w: smut, angry sex, jealousy, Sero gets slapped (in a non sexual way, but he deserves it)

n: how do we feel knowing there's only one more chapter left???!!!!! beta read by my queen @jemifis | read on ao3

previous | next | start here

10 years ago

“Okay,” you say, leaving the minuscule bathroom in your dorm room and showing off your new dress to Sero, who was sitting on the edge of your bed. “What do you think?”

He looks up from his phone and pauses, taking in your blue dress and sandals, makeup and hair done. You look beautiful. His heart skips a beat and his face reddens when you spin around, smiling.

“It’s- fine .” He looks away, forcing himself to not look love-sick.

“Fine?” Your smile drops.

“It’s okay.” Sero shrugs. “I don’t understand why you have to go, though.”

You sigh. “Not this again.”

He stands up from your bed and crosses his arms.

“I’m serious. Monoma hates our class, why would he want to go out with you?”

“Wow, Sero. Thank you.” You turn around to enter the bathroom again, but Sero catches you before you do.

“No, I mean!” He holds your elbow, turning you to face him, “Why would you want to go out with him?”

“He makes me laugh,” you shrug.

“That’s not very hard to do, is it?”

“ Hanta! ”

“I’m just saying! You deserve better.”

You lean on the doorframe, head resting on the wooden structure, as you narrow your eyes at him.

“Are you jealous?” You smile, crossing your arms.

The question makes him jump, widening his eyes, “What?! Of course not!”

Sero turns his back on you, taking large steps to make some distance between the both of you. You just laugh, taking one last look in the mirror, ready to go out.

“Well, I’m going, whether you like it or not.” You declare, grabbing your purse from your desk.

“Fine. Have fun then.”

“I will!”

…

Now

“So, funny bumping into Monoma today, right?” Sero says, dropping himself on your bed.

It’s a Friday night and you were doing some chores peacefully in your bedroom, until he barged in through the window.

“You know you can use the door, like a normal person, right?” You say, dropping a bunch of clean laundry to fold and put it in your closet. Sero is still wearing his hero suit, helmet under his arm, sweat glistening on his temples. “And don’t lie on the bed with that gross suit!”

“You seemed to like the suit the other day…” He gives you a shit eating smile.

You just roll your eyes and turn your back to him, hiding the fact that you might look flustered. Walking to your closet, you pull out a spare pair of shorts and a shirt you’d always keep for when he’d show up unannounced like tonight.

“Here.” You throw the clothes at him, “Change your clothes. I just put on clean bed sheets.

Sero sighs, hopping from the bed and undressing. “You seemed so happy to run into him.”

“Who?”

“Phantom Thief,” he says, referring to Monoma’s hero name.

During a patrol round together, you and Sero ran into your old high school crush, Neito Monoma. He recognized you on the spot and you both engaged in a pleasant conversation that lasted longer than it should have, in Sero’s eyes. It’s not like he was jealous or something – he was –, but seeing you smiling and laughing with another guy made him annoyed. Sero tried to chime in a few times, but, apparently, you and Monoma had your own inside jokes and memories to reminisce about.

At the end of the conversation, Monoma even asked for your contact information so you could keep in touch, and you happily obliged. It did leave a bitter taste in Sero’s mouth to see you eagerly type your number in on his phone, but he kept quiet on the way back to the agency.

What broke the camel’s back was when Sero was on his break, after you went home, mindlessly scrolling through his phone when he saw a picture of you, him, and Monoma on a shitty gossip website. You looked so happy talking with Monoma in the picture, as Sero stood behind you, only half of his body in the frame.

It made his blood boil.

“Yeah, it was nice to see someone from school,” you answer, folding a T-shirt, “someone that isn't from our friend group, that is.”

“Especially him, right?” He kicked his shoes off, crossing his ankles.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know, you used to go out with him a lot “

You snort, “Please, it was one date. He was late and it was super awkward. Remember how I kept avoiding him and then you and Bakugou had to scare him away?” You laugh, fond of the memories.

“I remember you being giddy about going out with him.”

You pause. “Are you jealous?”

Sero hesitates for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip. “No.”

“Oh my god, you are!” You bark out a laugh, throwing your head back, “that's new.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. His annoyance grows by the second and he can’t even look at you right now. You walk to him, and go around your bed, patting his head in a condescending way.

“Aw, don't worry about it, you know you're the only one who can make me come.”

“Me and Kaminari apparently,” he mumbles, referring to last week when you and him had some fun with Kaminari at his apartment.

“Oh, here we go again,” you sigh, rolling your eyes, “if I knew it was going to be a problem, I wouldn't have gone along with it.”

“You even squirted all over him!” He hops off the bed to face you better.

“Hanta…” you sigh again, “where is this coming from? I thought you were okay with it–”

“I was, until you started moaning to him, like a whore –”

As soon as the word left his mouth, your hand made contact with his face in a hard slap. You were always quicker than him, your reflexes sharper than his. He stares at you dumbfounded, mouth agape. You stare back, pupils dilated and a deep frown between your eyebrows.

“What the fuck–”

You don’t get to finish as Sero’s mouth is suddenly on yours, his hands cupping your face as he forces his tongue inside your mouth. You used all your strength to push him away and stare back at him for a moment, before kissing him back, giving in to him. The kiss isn’t like the sweet or heated ones you’ve exchanged before. It’s a fight for domination, to see who’s angrier at the other.

It’s a clash of teeth, biting of lips, as Sero reaches for the hem of your shirt and hastily pulls it over your head. You reach for the back of his suit, trembling hands looking for the invisible zipper that would give you access to him; you pull it down his shoulders as you both fall back into the mattress, him on top of you.

Sero kneels on the bed, quickly pulling your shorts down and undressing his suit right after. His toned body comes to view and you salivate at the sight, wanting to lick down his torso and give him the best blowjob of your life. You’re still angry at him, so you hold yourself back, even when he’s on top of you again, mouth on your neck, hand in your hair. He sinks his teeth on the soft flesh right under your ear, making you let out a cry. He’s never been this rough with you, it’s definitely a new sight. You’re not sure if you dislike it completely.

Before you realize, Sero flips you over, having you on your stomach, and pulls your hips up. You’re on your fours now, completely bare to him, but you face the full body mirror you have in front of your bed. Your hair is all messy from Sero’s tugs and your lips are swollen and full from his rough kisses. Your eyes meet his in the reflection, full of lust, as he sinks inside you, not giving time for you to catch your breath. He thrusts inside almost immediately, only pausing to press his chest to your back, and tangle his fingers on your hair. His lips touch your right ear as he makes eye contact with you through the mirror.

“You like it when I’m rough with you?” He says, still thrusting hard inside of you. You don’t respond, still trying to catch your breath from being impaled by his dick just moments ago. Sero pulls your hair even harder when you’re about to close your eyes, so you look back at him, “You like to be treated like a slut, don’t you?”

“Shut–”

“I saw your face when I called you a whore. It makes you horny.”

You hate it. You hate it that he’s right. You hate to admit, even to yourself, that when he called you a whore, you acted out on instinct, slapping him, but the word sent a wave of arousal to the middle of your legs. What made you even more turned on was the look in his eyes when you slapped him. His pupils dilated right after the initial shock.

“Shut up.” You push him away from you, making him lie back on the bed.

You lock eyes, tension crackling like static in the air; pushing him back almost roughly, you straddle his face, grabbing a fist full of his hair. Sero immediately grabs your hips and sinks his mouth on you, despite every cell of his body telling him not to give you the satisfaction. You throw your head back as he latches onto you, sucking and licking and rubbing just the way you like it. When you orgasm, your grip on his hair tightens and you ride his face with no shame.

Sero squeezes the flesh of your hips as you get off him, moving to sit on his cock. He glides in easily with you so wet and open for him and the position allows you to feel every inch of him. You try to control the twitches of your body, so overstimulated that you can barely move, but you do your best.

“Why were you jealous today?” You breathe out as you bounce on his cock, using his chest for support. Sweat drips down your nose onto his forehead as you stare intensely into his eyes. When he doesn’t respond, you slap your hips on his, making him let out a moan. “Why, Hanta?”

“Shit, fuck!” He curses, eyes closed and fingers digging into your skin. You know he’s close, but you wish he was closer because your legs are burning and you feel them giving in. “Fuck, angel, it’s because I love you!”

You stop, eyes wide and heart beating fast. Sero opens his eyes, widening them.

“You love me?” You ask, gasping for air.

“I have to go.”

“What?!” You’re confused now, as he’s still inside you.

Sero pushes you away from him, quickly pulling his suit up as he tries to step into his shoes. You stare at him, dumbfounded and speechless as he makes his way to the bedroom window. Before you realize, he’s gone without a word.

And you’re sitting on the bed, still naked and sweaty, words sinking in.

Your best friend loves you back.

@lousypotatoes @shoyosdoll @fresa-luna @crazyvalerie1236 @siillkie @jeanbabygirl @bookcluberror

[hvnyrt]

Voice in the Wind - ALTERNATE ENDING

JASON TODD X READER

I have never really written angst before, and I was really happy with the way my last work came out, but I couldn't help but want the reader and Jason to end up together in the end ;’) So I wrote a quick alternate ending to the same work, a happy ending this time, enjoy!

SUMMARY: Jason has been struggling with the idea of a relationship, fighting inner battles with himself constantly, you convince him to open up.

The rooftop of a Gotham skyscraper was cold beneath Jason Todd’s boots. His breath formed small clouds in the air, the city’s ever-present hum a background noise to his thoughts. He stood facing the edge, arms crossed, eyes scanning the streets below. It was late — or early, depending on how you looked at it — and the city was bathed in a sickly orange glow from the streetlights. Gotham was always awake, like a predator that never rested, and Jason… Jason was just another hunter in its maze of shadows.

He was trying to focus. ‘Focus, Todd,’ he told himself. ‘Don’t be weak. Stay sharp.’ But there was a problem. Your face kept slipping into his mind. No matter how hard he tried to shove it away, there you were again, with that crooked smile and those damn eyes that could cut straight through his walls.

Your voice rang in his ears. He hated your voice because it followed him everywhere, like an earworm he couldn’t get rid of. And your name. He hated your name because it made him feel like he could say it, like he could speak it aloud and claim it, and he didn’t want to claim anything. Not You. 

"She’s just a distraction," he muttered under his breath, the words lost in the wind. "Just a damn distraction." 

Except you werent. He knew it. 

He didn’t know how you had got under his skin, but you had. It had started innocently enough: a few random meetings while he was on patrol, a conversation here and there. But then something shifted. Something he couldn’t control, couldn’t shake. It wasn’t that he wanted to care about you; he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not when he knew better, when he was haunted by the ghosts of his past mistakes. People like him didn’t get to have things like that. People like him didn’t get to have… normal.

It was so fucking frustrating. 

"Stupid." Jason spat the word out as if it could wash away the thoughts, the feelings he didn’t want to deal with. There was no place for feelings in the world he lived in. It was all blood and violence, adrenaline and fear, and you… you were none of that. You were calm. Grounded. Real. You made him feel like he wasn’t constantly running from something.

Nope. Not happening.

"Jason?"

The voice broke through his internal tirade, familiar and warm, cutting through the cold like a blade. Jason didn’t turn around. Didn’t even flinch. But his heart did a strange little lurch. He hated that it did, but it did.

There you were, standing a few feet away, your arms wrapped around yourself to shield against the Gotham night. You didn’t even seem to notice how out of place you were up here — on this rooftop, so far above the city you loved but could never truly understand. You weren't like him. Never would be.

"You shouldn’t be here," he said, his tone as dismissive as he could manage. "Go home, It’s dangerous up here."

Your eyes flickered with that same mixture of concern and defiance he was growing all too familiar with. "And I’m guessing you’re worried about me?" you said, your voice laced with quiet amusement.

Jason’s lip curled slightly, though it wasn’t a smile. More like a reflex. “I worry about everyone, you're no different.” He said flatly, his back still turned.

But even as he said it, the doubt crept in. You had a way of doing that — making him second-guess every cynical, hardened part of himself that wanted to pretend he didn’t care. But he didn’t let it show. He never did.

"I’m not helpless." you said softly, stepping a little closer, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off you. "You don’t need to protect me. You don't have to worry me. Just please, tell me what's on your mind. Talk to me. Let me in." You wanted him so bad to just admit that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. You tried too hard to get him to open up to you, to get him to see what your relationship could be. He never listened.

The words hit him harder than they should have. He wanted to argue, to push you away again. You didn’t understand. You didn’t get what the world was really like, what it could do to someone like him. Someone who had already been destroyed once, who didn’t want to give it a second chance.

Instead, he just shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. "I’m not your protector. Just someone who knows better."

You raised an eyebrow, that familiar smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "So you’re telling me I shouldn’t be out here, too, but you’re not protecting me?" 

Jason didn’t answer. His gaze drifted away from her, back to the city lights, to the shadows below. But he didn’t walk away. He never did.

"You really think I can’t handle myself?" Your voice was quieter now, and for a moment, it almost sounded like you were teasing. Almost. 

Jason let out a breath, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. "You think you’re the only one who can handle themselves?" He turned his head just enough to catch her gaze. "This place doesn’t make you stronger. It makes you smarter. And if you’re not smart enough to get the hell out of it, you’ll get crushed. And that’s not something I’m willing to let happen."

The words left his mouth sharper than he’d intended, but he couldn’t stop them now. He never could when it came to you. 

You didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at him with those damn eyes that felt like they saw straight through his bullshit. Then, slowly, you took a step closer, not intimidated, but calm.

"Jason, you don’t have to pretend with me. I’m not going anywhere."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, though he’d never admit it. "I’m not pretending," he muttered, too quickly, and too defensively. 

The city stretched out beneath them, vast and indifferent, like a black sea dotted with the flickering lights of a thousand lives he would never touch. Jason stood there, his shoulders tense, his fists clenched. You were still beside him, too close for comfort, your presence a constant reminder of everything he couldn’t afford to feel. 

Focus, he told himself. Don’t let her in. Don’t let her do this to you.

But it was already too late.

You were right. He was pretending. 

Jason’s jaw tightened at the thought, and he could feel the familiar coldness creeping in — the walls he had built so carefully around himself, the ones that were starting to crack and crumble under your quiet, persistent gaze. The feeling of wanting to reach for you, of wanting to say the things that scared him more than anything else in this broken city, gnawed at him like a sickness. 

But no. He couldn’t do it. Not to you. Not again.

"You don’t get it," Jason said, his voice rougher than he meant it to be. He didn’t look at you, but he could feel you staring at him, that soft gaze that always seemed to see straight through him. "This isn’t… this isn’t some fairy tale. You can’t just waltz in here and fix me. I’m not… I’m not someone you can save. You don’t know what it’s like, and you never will."

He finally turned to face you, his eyes burning with something he couldn’t even name. "I’m dangerous. And you think you can handle me? You think you can be around me and still come out unscathed? You have no idea what this world does to people like us."

You didn’t back down. Of course you didn’t. You never did. Instead, you stepped closer, her voice low but steady. "I know enough, Jason. I know you’re scared. You don’t have to push me away—"

"Stop," Jason cut you off, his voice sharp, almost desperate. He took a step back, as if your proximity was suffocating him. "Stop pretending like you know me. Like you understand anything about me."

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "Jason, I—"

"I’m not the guy you think I am!" He didn’t shout, but his voice trembled with the raw emotion he refused to show. "I’m not the guy you can fix. You think I don’t care about you? That I don’t—" He stopped himself, the words lodged in his throat like broken glass. He could already feel the heat in his chest, the thumping of his heart, the same damn pain that had been there since he came back from the dead. 

His fists clenched tighter. "I’m not your fucking hero. I’m a killer. A broken, fucked-up, damaged thing, and you don’t want to get close to that."

The words came out in a rush, desperate, but also… final. His eyes were wild now, the storm inside him too strong to ignore, the war he’d been fighting with himself spilling out in a way he hadn’t intended. 

You stood there, silent for a moment, your face unreadable. Then your expression softened, a mixture of hurt and understanding flickering behind your eyes.

"I’m not trying to fix you," you said quietly, your voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air between them. "I’m just trying to be here. I’m trying to be someone you don’t have to push away."

Jason didn’t respond right away. He couldn’t. The words felt too raw, too close to something real. And that scared him more than anything. 

"You don’t understand," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You can’t understand. I can’t let you in. Not like this. Not after everything."

He took another step back, further into the shadows, his heart pounding in his chest. Every instinct in him screamed to get away from you, to run, to push you out of his life before you were swallowed up by the darkness he carried with him.

"Jason," your voice was quiet now, soft, like you were trying to reach him through the thick walls he had built. "Please."

But he couldn’t do it. Not for you.

Jason shook his head, more to himself than to you. He turned his back on you, the weight of his decision heavy in the pit of his stomach. His feet moved automatically, the thought of staying with you—of letting you see him, really see him—was too much to bear. 

Before he could even reach the edge of the rooftop, he heard your voice again, fragile but clear.

"You don’t have to do this alone."

He froze. For a second, everything inside him wanted to turn around, to reach for you, to tell you how much he wanted to believe that. How much he wanted to let you in. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let anyone in.

Jason's gaze lingered on the skyline, the weight of the city pressing down on him. His fists were still clenched, his jaw set tight, but inside, a storm was brewing, one that was just as chaotic as the one in the streets below. His heart was a mess of confusion and fear, and even though he wanted to push you away — needed to push you away — something about your quiet presence beside him made it feel impossible.

When you spoke again, your voice was gentle, almost like a whisper, yet it cut through the thick air between you with the clarity of truth. "You don't have to do this alone, Jason."

His eyes flickered to yours, and for a moment, he could barely breathe. He’d heard those words before, but never with the kind of sincerity that made him feel like he wasn’t alone in the universe. That maybe, just maybe, there was someone who saw through his walls, someone who wasn’t afraid of the darkness he carried.

He shook his head, his voice rough, trying to hold onto the hardness that kept him safe. "I told you, you don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like."

"I don’t need to," you replied softly. "I just need you to know that I’m not going anywhere. Not if you let me stay."

Jason’s heart pounded in his chest, the words stirring something deep inside of him, something that scared him more than anything. He wanted to say something — push you away, explain why this couldn’t happen, why he couldn’t let you in.

But the words stuck in his throat.

You took a step closer, not backing down, but not rushing him either. And for the first time, in the midst of all the noise inside his head, he realized that you weren’t asking him to fix himself. You were just asking him to be real. To stop pretending. To let you in.

Without thinking, without even fully knowing what he was doing, Jason reached out, his hand hovering just inches from yours. The proximity felt like a tug, a pull he couldn’t ignore. You didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Instead, you stood there, looking at him with those eyes that had always been so damn patient, so damn sure.

And in that moment, something inside Jason broke open — a crack in the walls that had kept him safe for so long. He didn’t need to pretend anymore.

He moved before he could stop himself.

One step, then two, and suddenly, he was close enough to feel your breath against his skin, close enough that he could see the way your lips parted slightly, as though you were holding your own breath, waiting for him to make the next move.

And then, like the world had shrunk down to just the two of you, Jason closed the gap.

His lips brushed against yours in a slow, tentative kiss, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he pressed any harder. But you didn’t pull away. Instead, your hand reached up, cupping the side of his face, and you kissed him back, steady and sure.

Jason’s heart skipped a beat, his mind racing, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. The tension that had held him captive for so long unraveled, piece by piece, until all that was left was this — you, here with him, unafraid.

He kissed you deeper this time, a soft but desperate need in the way his mouth met yours. The world felt a little less heavy, like maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to carry the weight of it all on his own anymore.

When the kiss finally broke, Jason’s forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing in the same air, your hearts syncing in a way that made everything else fade into the background. He didn’t say anything at first. He couldn’t. But the words he didn’t have to speak were already there — in the way his hands found your waist, in the way his body relaxed against yours.

“I’m scared,” he whispered, his voice rough with the admission. "Scared I’m not… enough. That I’m too broken for anyone to be here. To be what you need."

You leaned into him, your arms wrapping around him, grounding him with the warmth of your touch. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be you. And that’s enough for me, Jason. That’s more than enough.”

His chest tightened at your words, the sincerity of them striking deep. He wasn’t used to hearing that — wasn’t used to anyone seeing him for who he really was, not the mask he wore to survive, not the monster he sometimes thought he was.

But you did.

He let out a breath, the weight of everything in him finally beginning to lift. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Jason closed his eyes, his heart a little lighter than before. Maybe he didn’t have to have all the answers. Maybe he didn’t have to be the hero, or the villain, or the broken man he always saw in the mirror.

Maybe he just needed to be someone who didn’t have to face the world alone.

As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Jason realized that he wasn’t as lost as he thought. Not anymore.

For the first time in a long time, he was ready to face whatever came next.

And he was ready to face it with you.

[kurishiri]

01 . . . william v.s. darius

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: none.

Today was what one would call a comfortable, ideal day.

Kate: Thank you for inviting me here, Will.

K: It really has been a while since we last visited the city. I’m really looking forward to it.

William: As am I. Besides——

W: The possibility of encountering something unexpected is another thing I do look forward to, perhaps.

The glance he gave me made my heart flutter...

Kate: I would assume there’s some reason why we’re going out to the street fair going on today, right?

...and I returned his look with a searching one of my own, seeing those lips forming a perfect arc.

William: It is a reward for a very clever and discerning little robin——

W: Ahh, before that, though, let us extend our greetings to our guest here.

When I followed his gaze, there I saw Darius, who was walking toward us with a bright, innocent smile playing on his lips.

Darius: Hello there, Sir Rex. I’ve been eagerly awaiting an opportunity to be able to chat with you.

D: Ahh, and to the little miss fairytale keeper as well. Hello there.

Kate: Hi, Darius. Were you taking a stroll?

Darius: It’s such a good day out, it would be a shame if I stayed holed up in the castle, you see.

William: So, it would appear the castle is slightly too cramped for your tastes.

Darius: Whoops, you got me.

D: The higher-ups here in the castle are so stiff and formal, I could hardly take it. In fact, it was getting a bit hard to breathe, so I came here to escape, you see.

Kate: I see, then——

I was about to invite Darius as well, when I suddenly realized something.

(That’s right, Will was about to say something a couple minutes ago too. If this outing has anything to do with a mission...)

I probably shouldn’t be the one to decide that, so I turned toward Will, only to find him staring at me with an amused expression.

William: It is as you wish, Kate.

Kate: Thank you.

(As always, he seems to know exactly what I’m thinking.)

Darius: What’s this now? Will you let me join your merry group?

Kate: Darius, how about you join us in going to a street fair?

K: Since you have come a long way to England, it would make me happy if you ended up enjoying London.

Darius: Well that sounds very interesting. Perhaps I’ll take you up on your offer.

A smile blossomed on Darius’ face in an instant, and the sight made Will narrow his eyes in response.

William: Alright then, let us share a carriage then to the fair, the three of us. [1]

—— In a carriage ——

William: So the other day, we took down a crime syndicate that committed a great many thefts,

W: and that organization would have impoverished children steal in exchange for a generous reward.

W: We have taken the children who have been used by them under custody and are supporting them now, but that is not to say we were able to completely wipe all the traces out.

Darius: ——I imagine many of those children would stain their hands with crime once again in order to survive.

D: And what better place to do so than a street fair, which is teeming with people?

D: That’s why you are going to patrol around, and should you find any child who may have relations to that organization, you will take them into custody...

D: I wonder, did my guess hit the mark, Sir Rex?

William: Straight in the mark. I would expect no less from you, director.

Darius: I’m deeply honored by your kind words.

D: Even so, though, going out to find the children who had been targeted...

D: It’s a little reminiscent to Versteckspiel.

William: Indeed, it’s fine to see this as a game of hide and seek.

W: After all, since you are staying in England for a period of time, I would like for the director of Vogel to have fun in this fair.

Kate: The fairs here in England are really fun, so I myself enjoy them too. Ah, look, we’re almost there.

When we got off the carriage in front of the fair venue, Darius’ eyes lit up at the scene before him.

Darius: Wow, it’s so lively here. Ah, what are those wavy things?

Kate: Those are garlands the people have decorated the city with. They’re all handmade, so they come in many different shapes.

Darius: Ohh, then are those flags also garlands? They have such an interesting shape. And there are so many shops I don’t know where to even start.

D: They’re a tad different from the festivals over in Germany, but the excitement never changes for any festival.

Darius’ eyes wandered around everywhere with interest, and his frolicking had a very innocent air.

(I’m glad he’s having fun. Just seeing him makes me happy as well.)

William: It seems like he is having a good time.

Kate: Right? I’m glad I invited him. Ah, look, there’s a pie wagon coming!

William: Would you care for some berry pie, director?

Will and I went to buy enough pies for three people, offering one to Darius.

However, once he took the pie, he only stared down at it, not bothering to eat any of it.

William: Oh? It is considered bad manners to eat while you stand. Or perhaps…

Without putting on any airs, Will grabbed his own portion and took a bite.

At the sight of him chewing and swallowing, seeming to enjoy the taste, Darius widened his eyes.

William: If you were worried that poison had been mixed in, let this be proof that it is a groundless worry.

Will wiped the berry sauce on the corner of his lips with his thumb, smiling as he met Darius’ gaze.

Darius: Ahaha, to think you would fulfill the role of a poison taster of your own volition… it’s almost wasted on you.

D: But, that is also groundless on your part.

D: I am actually quite good, you see, at eating with bad manners.

The next moment, he took a large bite out of the pie, stuffing his cheeks.

Kate: Oh, you’ve got cream all over your mouth.

Darius: Hmm? It’s fiiine. Here, why don’t you have some, too, miss fairytale keeper? It’s scrumptious.

Darius paid zero mind to the fact that cream was on his face,

and seeing him munching so happily——

I remembered how he had mentioned that the castle felt a bit cramped.

(So right now, I would like it if he can spread his wings out as far as he can.)

Seeing the two before me so casually eat away, naturally my cheeks started to relax.

With a liberating feeling, I also took a large bite out of my pie.

Kate: Mm! It’s really good!

(Ah, come to think of it…)

Kate: Darius, you mentioned that you like foods that are either hard to make or hard to obtain, right?

Darius: Huh?

Kate: Those types of things don’t seem to be around here, so I will try to find some again next time!

Darius: Oh wow, so you remember the things that others have said very well.

William: Our little robin here is one to take actions for others; it is one of her virtues.

W: This pie as well, I see you have chosen my favorite flavor.

Kate: Yes, as I don’t make a mistake when it comes to whatever you say tastes good.

Darius: Ah, you like strawberries, don’t you, Sir Rex?

William: Oh? How did you know?

Darius: Is it not natural to do some research on the people you want to get along with?

William: Ahaha, your ardent words are loving music to my ears, director.

W: Actually, I am in the midst of unraveling the mystery that is you.

Darius: Oh? You are?

William: Indeed, I have come to learn a variety of things about you in this short time we’ve spent together.

W: Such as how you so heartily eat pie, among other things.

Darius: Ahaha, you aren’t wrong about that.

William: If the little robin hadn’t invited the director on this outing, such would remain a mystery. So thank you, Kate.

Kate: If you would like to give thanks, it is better suited for the ‘coincidence’ of meeting Darius right before we left.

K: Besides, I feel the same. I would like to get to know you more, Darius.

When I turned toward Darius, his entire face was smiling.

Darius: So you would like to get along more with me, miss fairytale keeper. I’m delighted to hear.

D: Let’s play together and get along much, much more, okay? And Sir Rex as well.

William: You can call me William.

Darius: Then you can just call me Darius. And miss fairytale keeper, that goes for you too?

Kate: Huh, is it really alright for me to call you Darius as well?

Darius: Why, of course. There’s no need to get so caught up in formalities if we’re going to get along with each other, right? So call me Darius, okay?

Kate: Okay then, Darius. I’ll do that from now on!

Then, William extended a hand to Darius.

William: We welcome you to England.

Smiling, Darius exchanged a handshake with Will.

Darius: Thank you. I hope next time you’ll find a time to come visit us in Germany.

D: Of course, that goes for both Crown… and the little miss fairytale keeper.

—— Scene change ——

While enjoying the lively festivities in contrast to the everyday, we could hear a notably loud shout of joy.

Darius: Hm? What are they all doing over there?

With our interests piqued, we headed toward the area where people were gathered, and——

Kate: Oh, they’re throwing horse shoes.

Darius: Ohh, it looks so fun. Now I want to try it.

William: Well then, I may participate as well.

Darius: Ah, then how about we have a match?

William: I don’t mind. I do imagine having a reward for the winner would make this match even more interesting as well, but…

Darius: Then how does miss fairytale keeper here sound for a reward?

to be continued…

will vs darius jude vs nica alfons vs ring

first next →

NOTES:

[1] Will says [ひとつ共有しておこう] (hitotsu kyouyū shite okō), which means “sharing one”... thing... in order to like stay as a three man group at the fair. I just assumed he meant a carriage, as the next scene takes place in a carriage, but I may be wrong here.

full masterlist 🌹🪽

[igotanidea]

Reveal: Damian Wayne x reader

part 6 of "Family rules" series.

Warning: dark themes, domestic violence.

***

One thing was sure.

She was avoiding him.

Taking it to such extreme that the second he was showing up at the other side of the corridor, ready to approach her and maybe have a talk, she was just spinning on her heel, moving exactly the opposite direction.

And Damian was starting to feel like a fool.

And if there was one thing that he didn’t like was being made a fool out of.

Under any other circumstances, he would just drop the whole thing, say some harsh, hurtful words and move on, being the same cold and seemingly emotionless person he used to, but –

There was no way she could hide the fact that her eyes were always searching for him.

In the class, when she thought he wasn’t looking.

At the recess, when she was reading a book in the corner, not really focusing on the lecture.

When they were leaving school after whole day of classes.

She was looking at him.

And though it may have been an illusion, there was something in those e/c orbs… Almost as if she was asking for help, perhaps?

This was suspicious and a little bit concerning.

And got even more concerning when he started noticing her showing up at school with bruises. Not just the I-fell-of-the-bike feigned ones, but tiny yet serious marks, that anyone who was not Robin, would probably miss.

And every day, there were new.

***

“Y/L/N” he sprang up in front of her completely out of nowhere, startling her and thus preventing her from escaping.

“Ah! Wayne!”

“What’s with the bruises?” Damian was not exactly known from his subtleness, cutting straight to the case.

“The what now?” she scoffed, playing off but instinctively fixing her hoodie so it would cover her better.

“The bruises. I saw some on your… um… midsection and –”

“Midsection?” Y/N repeated with a bit of shock in her voice and eyes “Wait.. How- How exactly did you notice them there? Shit, Wayne, have you been watching me?! Are you a creep now!?”

Damian could not help getting a little reddened at the accusation in her tone.

“No! I mean – come on, we have the same sports hall and we share PE classes! It’s really not too hard to notice when focused and –“

“You were focused on me!?”

This conversation was taking a turn Damian did not plan nor expect.

“Stop stalking me!”

“I am not stalking you! I just want to know what is going on!” he grabbed her forearm, causing her to hiss in pain. Clearly, she had another fresh injury there. “Apologies…”

“Save it, Wayne!” she yanked herself free. “Just leave me the hell alone! It would be better for everyone …” her voice faltered a little at the end and she gave him the same sad look that was chasing him everywhere for the past few weeks.

“Y/N…”

“I’m serious Damian…”

Neither of them realized that they switched into using each other’s names instead of last names.

“I just want to know where did that teasing smile I knew go…” he whispered, allowing himself a very rare moment of vulnerability, resorting to every measure to help him help her.

 “Things have changed… There’s not much you can do about it…” she responded in the same hushed tone, keeping those (scared?) eyes on him. Only for a second though, before putting her defenses up again. “Just – just stay the hell away from me!”

And with that words, leaving him stunned and confused she ran away again.

Only that this time, Damian knew something was wrong.

And he was about to find out what.

***

 “And she just called you a creep?!” Dick laughed quietly “Damn, I like her already.”

He and Damian, in their respective vigilantes versions were hidden on the tree outside Y/N’s house, observing carefully everything that was happening inside. And Damian hated every minute of the presence of his older brother. And partially feeling a hell lot of self-loathing due to the fact that Dick tricked him into joining the patrol. Using the moment of Damian’s distraction and a mix of emotions, skillfully dragging information about his state, manipulating the situation.

“Shut up, Nightwing you will blew our cover!”

“Who, me? Never. I’ve been doing this for way longer than you Robin, shall I remind you.”

“I’m gonna kick you off this tree, I swear—”

“I’m an acrobat, I will land perfectly.” Dick grinned, seriously getting on his brother’s nerves.

“Will you be quiet?” Damian hissed again “There she is!”

“You know there are so many other ways to tell a girl you like her—” Grayson teased again, but the joke died on his lips as soon as he watched the scene unfolding in front of his – or rather their- eyes.

“What the—“

“Oracle, do we have a sound from a wiretap?” the anger was clear in Damian’s voice, but for some  reason he kept calm, addressing Babs to gather every information he needed before moving to action. And it would be admirable if Dick didn’t know that his brother holding back emotions would backfire on everyone. Especially the man, they were observing.

And that was actually bad.

***

“Well? Did you do what I asked of you?”

Y/N’s father was sitting in the living room, slowly sipping some drink, smirking almost vengefully when she came inside the house, with a futile hope she wouldn’t be noticed.

“No.” her tone was harsh and full of defiance, but as much as she tried to put on a brave face, her eyes and paleness were revealing everything.

“Such a shame, honey. I offered you a simple deal—”

“I am not making any deals with you!”

“Shall I remind you then what happens if you are a bad girl?”

“Oh you remind me very well, all right?!” she yelled taking a step forward “for your information the people at school are starting to ask about my bruises, so I hope you are fucking proud of yourself!”

Y/N barely made it to the end of the sentence when a hard slap on her face cut her off.

“You little ungrateful brat!”

“I hate you!”

“You were just supposed to use that little Wayne to get information of his father’s company!”

“I won’t do that!”

“There’s really no use of you, is there?” her father twisted her wrist painfully.

“STOP IT!”

“I’m gonna give you one last chance.” The grip on her wrist tightened and Y/N’s father’s hateful hiss hit her ears “Tomorrow, you are going to charm that little son of Wayne and get me the info of their newest development. Otherwise – “

“You’re my father!” she cried out in the last attempt to calm him

“And that’s exactly why you are obligated to do what I tell you. Now, go to you room and don’t you dare leave. And if I find out you told anyone about it-“

She rushed off before he finished, holding back tears, that only flew in the safety of her room.

***

“Damian?” Dick started to get a little worried about his brother’s almost catatonic stare. “Damian, are you--?”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“I’m pretty sure that is what Jason –”

“I am going to kill him!”

“Whoa!” in the last second Dick grabbed Damian’s cape holding him back, skillfully avoiding all the punches and kicks Robin tried to give to free himself. “Come on, we gotta be smart about it!”

“I don’t care about smart! She’s hurt and –”

“And if we just bust there, that beast of a man would think she had something to do with it. Come on, Damian, think.”

“I want to rip his heart out for ever hurting her! And why –” his voice became depressed. “because of me… Because she refused to use me for information. Now I get why she was avoiding me …”

“Seems to me like you do care about that girl, aren’t you, Damian?”

“This is none of your business!”

“Yeah, it’s not. But an innocent girl being treated like this is definitely Nightwing’s one. Now, if you could just calm down a little and listen to me – I got a plan.”

I know it's a bit short, I;m getting back to the swing after my hiatus XD

@6000-fandoms @beyond-your-stars @mikyapixie

@heartz4miz @crookedmakerfury @mariam12344 @celestair

@faimmm @hornyslasher @urdarlingali @emmalove1111 @crookedmakerfury @herondale-lightworm @itzjustj-1000 @ginger24880 @anonymousmuffinbear @adharawitch @jasons-little-princess @sharkybabydoll @cupids-diner @whydoyoucare866 @ladychibirae @crookedmakerfury @amber-content @atadoddinnit @mouse-face1 @m3ntally-unstable @jinviktor @idonthaveanameforthisacc @no-lessthan3 @simp-simp-no-mi

[gilverrwrites]

Say His Name

Tim Drake/Reader, ≈1.1K

AN: Someone asked for cute smut with Tim Drake and this certainly isn’t it, but it is on the burner. I’m imagining him like mid 20s here, but you could go older or even a bit younger if you wanted. It really was just a thought, I did not expect this to surpass a couple 100 words but here we are.

CWs: Breach of trust, teasing, masturbation, vouyerism, withheld information, vaguely dom/sub dynamics. GN!Reader

Thinking about heroes with semi/famous secret identities finding out their favourite civilians used to have a big ol’ crush on them and being so.fucking.normal. about it, especially because you don’t know what, who you’re confessing to.

Particularly the bats (Bruce, Dick, Jason) but could also be like Oliver, or Clark. But in this case Tim.

Like he came to your home in the night, now he’s supposed to be sleeping off an injury or rough patrol in your childhood bed but he just can’t nod off so he starts looking around, searching for a book or anything to calm his mind when he find a draw full off magazine/paper clippings of himself. There are little stickers on them, your paired initials surrounded by hearts written in glitter pen. So cute.

The discovery plays on his mind until he sees you again, probably the next morning. He’s suited and booted getting ready to head out when you poke your head in to check on him. He knows he shouldn’t say anything, asking would mean admitting to snooping, to invading your privacy, abusing your hospitality but… “So umm, what’s with the Tim Drake murder shrine in your desk drawer?”

Your eyes bulge, lips pulled tight as you process the question, you’re adorable when you’re frazzled.

“Tim Drake-Wayne.” You correct with an awkward laugh, trying to diffuse your own nerves with humour. “What that? Doesn’t everyone have one of those?”

“Nope, I’m pretty sure you’re the only one.”

“Maybe, probably.” Your laughter is more relaxed now, but there’s still a sheepish edge to your tone. The fact that you’re accepting his teasing, despite having every right to be mad only fuels his fire. “This is embarrassing, I used to have such a huge crush on him. They used to be on the wall, but I didn’t have the heart to throw them out when I took them down.”

He’d hoped your confession would satiate his curiosity, the burn in his loins, but he’s still not satisfied and you’re not refuting him so he keeps pushing. Metaphorically and physically. He’s not touching you but he’s close enough to smell your body soap as he asks, “Are you still into him?”

Fuck he’s too intense, you can barely maintain eye contact with him. Why is talking about another man getting you so riled?

“I don’t really follow him but I guess he’s still pretty hot.” Music to his ears, a nice long therapeutic scratch to his ego. “Why?”

“Just curious.” He replies and though his tone is unbothered, he’s body language is not; he’s all sharp moves and tense muscles. He averts his gaze for a moment, examining your sheets for the hundredth time then looks back to you. Your hands are preoccupied, anxiously fiddling with the hem of your top and he’s suddenly overwhelmed by the image of you touching yourself to the thought of him with those same hands.

“So…” he cocks his thumb to the bed you know too well. “I guess you used to sit in that bed and think about him, huh?”

His drift is caught, he can tell by the way you look upward, that you’re thinking, hard. Considering your next move and he’s praying you’ll keep biting his hook. Your shoulders sag as you look back at him and he knows he’s got you cause that means you’re relaxing, letting your walls down.

“If I show you something, promise not to judge?”

“I promise.” There’s more! “Scout’s honour.”

He was never a fucking scout, but he gives you his best approximation of a salute anyway.

The bedside table had been locked last night, the key was hidden under the reading lamp but he’d figured you wanted it locked for a reason. He wasn’t completely without shame. Now that you’re rifling through it though, he figures it’s free game for peeking. Once you find what you’re searching for you snap the drawer shut but not before he catches a glimpse of a few choice items, things that could come in useful, if he gets his way.

“These are what I looked at when I was thinking of him.” You hand him a small batch of photos, print outs of him Tim Drake, most are from a specific day. He remembers when they were taken, he was 18? 19 maybe? It had been an unusually hot day at Ivy U. After a long workout out he’d left the campus gym without a shirt. The paparazzi had had a field day, and apparently so had you.

His mind is drifting again to how that might look and he has to see it, has to convince you to show him. Without warning he closes the distance between you. Your hands fly up, settling gently on his chest. Your touch is so soft, nothing like the way he grips your hips for dear life.

The two of you had kissed before, but not like this, never like this. This is searing and needy. He’s completely invading your sense and it’s making you dizzy. Body to body, tongue to tongue. He groans into your mouth and it makes your already tense core begin to throb. Wanting to hear it again you roll your hips, grinding onto him and there it is again; He moans as you rub against the solid bulge in the crotch of his suit. Eager to coax more of those beautiful noises out of him you reach down, hungry to run your palm over his length but he stops you with a fast, iron like grip around your wrist.

Without a word, he guides you onto the bed. The control he has over you is driving you wild, it’s in your eyes, in your blown-out pupil and the way they watch his every move, waiting for what he’ll do next.

When you’re snug against the mattress, he tucks your hand into your waistband, tugging at the fabric until you get the idea and start stripping them yourself. Once exposed, you don’t wait for instruction, unable to stop from stroking your arousal.

You’re not sure what’s come over you, just that something about Red Robin gets you so inexplicably turned on and you’d do anything to have him relieve that tension.

“You want me to touch myself?” It’s a redundant question you’re already touching yourself. He nods anyway, mask hiding most of the heat that has flooded to his face.

His hand reaches for yours and you hope for a moment that he plans to take over but instead, he cups your wrist, turning your hand just enough to spit on your palm, offering additional lubrication. The lewdness of his actions has you breathless

“Say his name.” He states it firmly, you’re lost for a second, looking at him with big empty eyes, dumb on building ecstasy. “Say Tim while you’re touching yourself.”

[alicesivory]

Old Habits Die Hard [2/?]

Previous Chapter // Main Masterlist // Next Chapter

Pairing: Nightwatch! Aemond Targaryen x wildling female! Reader

Genre: Historically accurate Aemond

WC: 3115

Summary: The Night’s Watch was a nightmare to the one eyed prince. Longing for his freedom once more, the gods decided to toss a coin and play with him. Meeting a peculiar wildling that could be his answer. And the Targaryen prince could be the answer to her people. 

“Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honour to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.”

Aemond knelt before the weirwood tree as he spoke the watch’s oath. Although he was devoted to the seven, a hint of guilt lies deep in his heart. He recalls how his mother devoted her life to the seven and prays daily to the sept. Praying for him, Aegon, Helaena, Daeron, her own mother, it felt wrong kneeling in front of the old gods. What would his mother say of him?

Does she know that he’s alive?

Did Lord Stark told her of his fate? 

He could only get lost in his thoughts as he stood up to face his commander. The summer snow falls heavy upon his now black garb, traditionally worn by the order. He should’ve had drowned in that lake alongside with Vhagar and his uncle. Why did the gods saved him just to give him a fate worse than death? 

May the gods be with me.

“Just so you know, new recruits are sorted into three orders. Rangers, warriors of the watch to patrol beyond the wall and fend off any wildling. Then we have Builders, tasked to maintain The Wall itself such as castles, arms, and all that shit. And uh last we have Stewards, cooking and tending horses,” His commander said.

“As much I would love to put you as a Steward, princey…we all know you are needed as a Ranger. You are a skilled warrior aren’t you not?”

Aemond could only stare at the commander, letting out a quiet hum. “You don’t talk much do ya?” Stepping closer to the one eyed prince. “It’s better that way,” Aemond replied coldly.

The northerner scoffed, spitting onto the ground. 

“Cocky little shit.”

Walking away from Aemond alongside with the other crows. Turning his back on them, Aemond stared down at the weirwood tree. It was laughing at him. At his demise, his fate. The old gods were not with him. He cursed them under his breath, stomping away from the scene as his cloak dragged across the snow. 

Training with the northerners wasn’t any different than he had with ser Criston back then in the keep. It’s even easier for his liking. Aemond being a skilled swordsman he is, didn’t hesitate to show off his skills as he competed with new recruits of the watch. Even the ones that were longer in the brother hood had to put up a good fight to keep up with his skills. Yet Aemond was persistent on winning every single time.

“Get up,” Aemond said coldly to a young boy aching in the ground after getting hit by Aemond. “We are not done yet. I said get up,” he repeated himself. Is this the kind of men that they’re sending to the wall? Meek and puny men who are supposed to defend the realm from savages and creatures? 

Pathetic. 

“Stand up straight, boy,” Aemond told his competitor, tapping his leg. “Keep your legs strong if you want to live,” he said before striking again, thankfully the boy paid attention and kept his form strong. It went on for awhile after Aemond defeated them again and again. 

“Enough!” His commander’s voice boomed. “You, Targaryen.” Pointing at the one eyed prince. Approaching Aemond, he questioned, “What d’you think you’re doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“That’s enough.”

“These men aren’t ready—,”

“—oh now you’re lecturing me? A fucking know it all?”

“Yes I know it all. You’re sending these men into a death sentence,” Aemond pointed his sword towards the new recruits. “Is that what this brotherhood is meant for? Sending men into their deaths because they chose not to die sooner in the hands of you northerners? This is not honour, this is a—.”

Before Aemond could even finish his sentence, his commander punched him in the face, hard. A punch he haven’t felt in years throughout his youth. Tumbling to the ground, Aemond felt his cheek was sore and aching. Wincing in pain, he felt his nose bleed.

Stupid northerner.

Licking the blood flowing through his nostril, he scoffed. “That’s what you northerners always do, hm? Finishing the matter with violence.” Prancing up, Aemond wanted to behead his commander right there on spot. But he was held back by the other watch members. Grunting, ordering them to let him go, their grip only tightened.

“If it weren’t for Lord Stark, I would’ve stabbed you here for tainting the watch���s name.” Tapping Aemond’s chin with his own sword. “You’re lucky you’re protected under the starks, boy. Or else your corpse would be lying in the forest as those savages feast on ya.” Tapping Aemond’s cheek with a mocking laugh before his men threw Aemond to the ground, leaving him alone. 

His clothes, once neat and tidy, were now tattered and stained, clinging to his battered frame. Aemond lets his legs give up as he was left alone in the field. Even if his face was in pain, he was relieved that he is finally alone in this dreadful place. Even if it was for awhile, he savoured the moment and laid back on the cold harsh ground of the north.

Looking up, he saw the sky being dark and grey. Snow has stopped falling from the sky, that’s also relief. He wondered what his mother is doing right now. Is she praying for him? For his brother? What about Helaena? Has she forgiven him after what he had done and asked her for? She was kind. Helaena didn’t deserve the war or any of them. Not even himself.

What of Alys? His newborn? What does he look like? Will she successfully give him an heir? But what is the use of an heir if he is not present to see its birth? If he has lost the war. If the blacks had claimed the throne and cast his family aside? Was the war actually worth the fight? He should’ve perished at that lake to end his misery. At Least he didn’t have to endure the aftermath of the war. But now he’s nothing but a crippled Targaryen, surrounded by a useless brotherhood that we would die to escape from. 

A crow flew above him, landing on one of the trees surrounding the base. 

He used to see dragons flying above him. 

Now he is only left with dreadful black crows.

Yet they are free. Unlike his fate. Trapped in a cage he wished to be free from. 

May the gods be with him. 

He wasn’t surprised when they put him on duty that very night to the Nightfort. Of course they put him in the Nightfort. They said that the fort was haunted since it’s twice as old as Castle Black. Aemond sighed, lighting up his torch looking around the barely standing fort. They would have abandon this fort in a few years. Aemond didn’t mind the dark or the haunting noise of the creaking floors of the fort. For Harrenhal was far more haunting than this old fort. 

Even Alys’ visions were far much terrifying. 

He saw a few men on the ground as he stood by the bridge of the old fort. Scared shitless when they felt a small blow from the wind. “Cowards,” he muttered under his breath. The cold wind swept his hair as he stomped through the old fort. Yet when he slowed down, he heard a double foot step. He kept walking.

Tap…tap..Tap..Tap..tap..Tap..tap.

A quite tap was heard from a distance trying to sync with his steps. 

Someone was following him.

For the love of the gods, Aemond whined in his head. He drew out his sword and faced his stalker, finding the boy he duelled earlier raising his arms with a shocked expression. “I-I’m sorry!” The boy stuttered in fear as Aemond’s sword touched his chin.

“Why do you lurk in the shadows, boy? Did they send you to assassinate me?” He accused the boy.

 “N-no, ser—,”

“—Prince. Prince Aemond.” 

The boy swallowed a lump in his throat.

“My pr-prince..I…I am not here to kill you.”

“Then why did you stalk me in the dark?”

“I…I did not want to disrupt your peace. I swear it!”

Aemond stared at the boy for a moment, trying to find guilt in his expression. Yet he found none, so he lowered his sword. “Speak,” he commanded. “I…I..I am..scared…of the nightfort.” The boy’s confession made Aemond scoff, “Those stories they tell you were only lies.” Walking ahead, not bothering to stop and have a proper conversation with the young recruit. “Oh but it’s true!” The boy jogged, catching up to the Targaryen prince. “My brother saw a ghost in the halls. It was the perished wildling who died in this fort!”

Rolling his eye, Aemond said, “Lies.” 

The boy curiously looked at Aemond as they walked side by side. “What happened to your other eye?” A question that Aemond’s sick of hearing and answering. “My nephew took my eye when we were children,” he coldly said. “Why a sapphire?” 

No one ever asked him that before.

Only his mother asked him why he chose a sapphire. He remembered her smiling when he requested a sapphire to replace his eye. He remembered how she told him it suited him. How it made him handsome.

He smiled thinly at the memory.

“Symeon star eyes,” Aemond proudly said.

“The blind knight? Ah yes that makes sense. I read about him once. He’s an amazing hero, isn’t he?” The young boy asked, intriguing Aemond. “He is..and he is a brave knight. Taught me that being blind does not mean you must limit yourself from greatness.” Touching his sapphire eye, he recalled how uncomfortable it was when they placed the stone into his socket when he turned 13. But now he is used to it. As time went by, it slowly moulded into his skin. It was his identity now.

“What is your name, boy?”

“Jack.”

“And how old are you now?”

“I just turned Ten-and-three now.”

He was just a boy.

Aemond stopped in his tracks, “You are merely a boy. Why are you here at the watch?” Aemond asked curiously. 

“I wanted to.”

Aemond scoffed.

“It’s true! I want to be a crow! My brother was one and I have become one!” 

“Where is your brother now?”

Jack went quiet, looking down to his feet. “He died. A wildling shot an arrow through his heart,” he answered. Aemond sighed, in normal circumstances he would not say anything and leave the matter behind. But Jack’s loss reminded him of his own. Aegon. “I lost my brother too,” Aemond said reassuringly. Jack looked up, wiping a snot away from his nose. “You did? What happened to him?”

“He was poisoned. By his own council, I heard,” Aemond vaguely said. “Oh, you were a prince, weren’t you?”

“I still am.”

“What is it like…riding a dragon?”

Trying to recall what it was like to mount on dragonback, feeling the wind blowing through him as Vhagar took him up to the skies, he answered,

“I was free.”

He missed Vhagar. His only companion. The only thing that made himself worthy. Without Vhagar, what is he? Without his claim as prince, what is he? Just a skilled swordsman who coincidentally has silver hair. What has he put himself into?

Crack. Thump.

Aemond turned his head towards the haunted forest. “What was that?” Jack asked. “D’you think it’s a squirrel? Or a bird?”

Thump. Thump. 

“That is no bird, boy,” Aemond warned, shielding Jack from their surroundings. 

Swish- crack!

An arrow shot beside his head. 

“Wildling,” Jack says in horror

Aemond pulled the arrow out from the wooden walls of the fort. Examining its sharp carved edge of the arrow. It was clearly handmade with lack of detail, yet it is efficient to kill. “Warn the others,” Aemond said under his breath. “What?” Aemond rushed and hurriedly push the boy out from his place. “Warn the others. We’re under attack.” Aemond’s words drove Jack into panic before he runs away from the bridge. Leaving Aemond alone with the wildling arrow.

Pulling his sword out once again, Aemond aimed the sword around him.

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

“I know you’re there. Show yourself!” Aemond commanded, “Do not hide yourself from me, you savage!” 

Thud. 

He felt the floor shake as he heard something- or..someone jumping inside the bridge he stood on. Before he could fully turn around, the wildling pounced onto him. He landed on the floor with a thud. Aemond hastily aimed the sword to the intruder but when he looked up, he saw a she-wildling curiously looking down at him.

Her messy wavy hair was braided disorderly as it hangs above his face. He felt how thick her fur clothes were as a few leftover snow stuck onto her fur slightly falling when she pounced on him. Aemond was ready to strike if the wildling made sudden movements or even dared to harm him. He glared at the she-wildling, gripping his sword. 

“Do as you please, wildling. And I shall stab your hea-.”

She curiously lifts a strand of his hair. Feeling the texture of his hair. 

What?

She looked at his hair with a smile, “It’s actually silver,” her sweet voice said with a chuckle. 

“So you speak?”

She looked down at him, “Of course I do,” she answered with her thick rough accent. “Good. Then keep your hands off me!” Shoving her away, Aemond quickly stood on his feet. Pointing his sword at her. 

“Where are the others?”

“What others?” She smirked.

“Do not think this is a joke, wildling. We know your attacks—,”

“—Attacks? No! No! Gosh.” 

What is this wildling trying to do? Play with him?

“You’re different.”

“Pardon?”

“You’re not from the north,” she repeated, stepping closer towards him in which Aemond does not want her to do, still keeping his sword pointed at her. “And you’re not here by choice,” she continued, stopping right in front of his sword. One step closer, Aemond could stab her through her chest with his sword. “Is it true?” She asked.

“What?”

“That you are those people who owned a dragon?”

“What does a wildling know about dragons?”

“Surprisingly we know some things,” she lightly said. “And my grandfather has seen two dragons flying above the wall. But they refused to go beyond the wall.”

King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. 

His ancestors.

“What do you want, wildling?”

“I have a name, y’know.”

She spoke of her name that sounded foreign to his ears.

“I do not care of your name, tell me why are you here before I drag you to the watch—,”

“—oh, now you’re loyal to the crows? The last time I saw you, you threw a punch at the Lord Commander.”

What? How did she know of it?

“Were you spying on us?” Aiming his sword closer to her throat. “Oh really? You’re asking me that? We’re wildlings, of course we spy on crows like you. Or are you really one?” Her question made him grunt in frustration. “Tell me why are you spying on me?”

“Because you’re different. You didn’t ask to be a crow!”

“You do not know that!”

“Oh but I do. I do,” she challenged him.

“And not to mention, your purple eye and sapphire eye caught our attentio-.” Aemond frustratingly tackled her down. “You’re wasting my time,” he hissed at her. Their faces are inches away from each other. She scoffed, “Am I? Or am I making your job far much more entertaining? You seem bored being stationed in this old fort,” she chuckles. 

This woman is insane.

“This is going nowhere. For the last time, tell me why are you here,” he warned her. “Before I cut your throat, you savage.”

“Do you want to be trapped among these crows, snow haired?” She asked. 

Did he want to be trapped amongst these crows?

The watch?

No. 

But he could not admit that.

Not to a fucking wildling.

“You know nothing, wildling.”

“Oh but I know some things. I know you wished to be freed from this prison.” 

He did.

He did want to be free.

“You are such a know it all, wildling.”

“Aye, I am a savage. But I am also a free woman. Do you want to be free like me?”

Her eyes bore into his healthy eye. “If you were to kill me, you could’ve done that minutes ago. You would’ve cut my throat right here, right now. But you didn’t. For you knew my offer is too interesting to igno-,”

“Do not test me, you savage.” 

She scoffed at him.

“Then do it. Cut my throat. Drag me to those men you call brothers,” she challenged him.

Aemond aimed his sword at her.

One swift motion, her throat would be slit and she will lie there lifeless in his arms. That's easy. 

But why couldn’t he move?

His sword just stayed in place. 

He was a ruthless warrior who burned everything to the ground. He slew the strong family line. He killed those bastards and beheaded their men. Killing a wildling is nothing to him.

But he didn’t.

Fuck.

For she could free him from the watch. 

“Come with me. And you can escape from this place. I can help you go back to your home behind the wall. If you agree to come with me.”

She can take him home?

To Kings Landing.

His mother.

The keep.

“And you can help us as well. You don’t have to stay and become a crow—,”

“Targaryen!”

He heard a watch man called him from afar with Jack pointing to Aemond’s direction with the wildling. “Ah so that’s your name. Targaryen,” she jokingly said with a light laugh. She shoved Aemond away making him stumble back onto the hard floorboards of the fort. “Catch her!” He heard a watchman said again as they ran towards them. Aemond picked himself up and was ready to leap and stab the wildling. 

To no avail, the wildling was swift and jumped on the edge of the bridge. 

“This is my cue to leave. My offer stands still, Targaryen. We shall meet again.”

Giving Aemond a wink before jumping down, nowhere to be seen. Disappearing into the cold night air.

a/n: woohooo Aemond finally gets to meet the reader! Hope he’s fond of us🫶🏻🐇 Anw thank you for reading this chapter until the end! I will upload the next chapter asap<3 Alsooo I currently don’t have any taglist so if you want me to tag you in upcoming chapters just LMK🌷

🍰current tags: @suntizme @8812-342 @ladytargg @barnes70stark @magpiewritingsforonce (bold means I can’t tag you and idk why😔🐦‍⬛)

[fluentmoviequoter]

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

✵ Part 2/3 of what is now a sweet, soft Tim moments miniseries!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!rookie!reader

Summary: Tim Bradford cares more about you, his boot, than he should. He has a dream about you and realizes that he's in a bad spot.

Warnings: fluff, minor angst, Tim and r making things hard on themselves

Word Count. 1.0k+ words

A/N: Many thanks to the kind words of @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses @writings-of-a-demigod and @newobsessionweekly on the first part! Thanks for the inspiration and love! Here's more soft Tim realizing how he feels.🤍

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Well, what do you think?”

Tim watches you spin in the new outfit before you place your hands on your hips and look at him. He’s been waiting outside the dressing room for too long, but he can’t find it in himself to ask you to leave. 

“It’s beautiful. So were the last five,” Tim tells you. 

“That’s not helpful,” you lament. “I have to pick the best one!”

“It’s a charity dinner, not your wedding. Just pick what you like, what you feel good in, and let’s go. We do have a shift to finish.”

“We have fifteen more minutes of our lunch break,” you point out. “Let me try on one more.”

Tim stands and counters, “Only if I get to pick it.”

“Okay,” you agree softly. “I’m in room 2.”

Tim nods and turns like he’s on a life-dependent mission. He navigates through the racks of clothing as if a suspect is hiding in them. When he finds something he thinks you’ll like and knows you’ll look great wearing, he picks it up and returns to the dressing room. 

“You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” he says as he passes the hanger over the door. 

“And you always make things so easy,” you argue playfully. “Oh, this is nice.”

Tim returns to the plush chair in the waiting area and leans back. His belt digs into his side, but he doesn’t bother to move. He’d prefer to leave than to find a new position. When you emerge in Tim's suggested outfit, you smile at him, and Tim stands quickly. 

“That’s the one,” he murmurs. 

“I think so too. You have better taste than I anticipated, Bradford.”

You return to the dressing room to change into your uniform again, and Tim feels like he has been kicked in the chest. Everything about this has been domestic, slow, just you and Tim, but then you called him Bradford. And, when he stands beside you in the checkout lane, both dressed in patrol blues, Tim is cruelly reminded that you are his rookie, partners at most, and this was just a convenient trip for you. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For coming with me, for putting up with me, being so nice. Everything.”

“Of course,” Tim answers. 

“I, uh, I was wondering if you had an outfit for the dinner?”

“I’ve got a suit somewhere in my closet.”

You nod and look down at the outfit draped over your arm. 

“I think you need one more thing,” Tim adds. 

“What? I’ve got the outfit, shoes, a-“

“A date,” Tim interrupts. “Do you… would you want to go with me? As more than two cops from the same station?”

You look at him wordlessly and shift on your feet. Tim immediately begins to regret asking and tries to find a way to make a joke or a reason to call you boot and put everything back in perspective. 

“I’m sorry,” he decides on. 

“No, I want to say yes, I just assumed you were kidding.”

“Why?” Tim questions, reaching toward you. 

“You were nice to me the day that I got my hand sliced open, but you told me then that-“

Tim wakes when his arm jerks. He expects to feel you beside him, but as he sits in his bed, in his house, in his lonely existence, he realizes it was all a dream. He was nice to you that day, but he wonders if there’s something he could do now to show you it wasn't a one-off kindness. You’re his rookie, but Tim needs more. 

“Oh,” he murmurs as everything sinks in. He dreamt about you because you affect him and his emotions more than you’ll ever know. That date, the touch he misses without ever feeling, everything about the dream was the unconscious pursuit of Tim’s true desires. 

“This is bad, Kojo,” Tim mumbles. “Very bad.”

The following morning, Tim can’t make eye contact with you. He hasn’t been nervous around a woman since he and Isabel were dating. As he sidesteps you to avoid touching you, he wonders if there is any chance you want it, too. There’s too much risk, he decides; your safety and his judgement are more important than his feelings or some high school-level crush on the one girl he can’t get. 

“So,” you begin as you get in the shop. “Sergeant Grey said days with lots of events are hectic. Does that make this the bad?” you ask. 

“When are you going to stop asking me that?” Tim asks. “You’ll know when the bad is.”

“Well I thought a dozen stitches was bad, but if that was the good, I’d like a heads up from you before the bad really happens.”

“That part wasn’t the good,” Tim huffs. “The bad is… it’s the rest of it. Everything until you pass your exam and start seeing the ugly that scars the good.”

You purse your lips and nod to yourself. “You’re in a good mood today. Chipper, almost.”

“It’s not supposed to make you happy, but it’s police work.”

“I think it’s the bad for another reason,” you admit. “Because I can’t talk about anything. Questions, ideas, opinions, even just how I feel, nothing I say or do gets taken seriously now, but the second I mess up, no one will forget it. My bad days can ruin me.”

“It gets better,” Tim assures. He notices your eyes on him when you say ‘how I feel’ but doesn’t push. “But keeping a low profile as a rookie has its pros and cons.”

You nod and look out the passenger window. This is the bad, and you are already in the worst of it; you and Tim are hiding your feelings from each other and trying to keep them from affecting yourselves. The lies that you and Tim think in a vain effort to stay professional and protect your hearts only make it harder to see that the person sitting beside you sees past your uniform. Your only concern is that the ugly will scar you before you escape from the bad and invite Tim into the good beside you. No matter where you are, in the good, the bad, or the ugly of police work, Tim will be beside you. But maybe you need his hand in yours and a promise that there’s more. Because this is bad, but it could get a whole lot worse. 

[starieq]

“Lovin her seems tiring..” Part 2

Taggies/ warnings; Pro!HeroKats, cheating, fingering, creampie, blowjob, ridding, cumming, squirting, swearing, mention of sex toys, dirty talk, titty fuck, drinking, drunk messaging, dry humping.

part 3!

After that crazy call with your boss, you went right into making reservations so you don’t get yelled at the next week of work. 

Wait. Is his girlfriend coming? Should you call and ask? Would he be mad? Do you reserve two rooms? One for you, and one for him? Of course you would! Why wouldn’t you? Don’t make this weird y/n.

You had a lot of what if’s. But, you wanted to be brave and call your hot headed hot boss. 

ring, ring, ring.

“The hell ya want now? Thought i made myself fuckin clear.” He grumbles into the phone.

“U-uh,” you stutter. “S-so, is uhm, Kira coming like she usually d-does, or..-“ 

“No. Just make two rooms. One for you and me.”

“Okay! Thank you for letting me know. B-but i do have a question Mr. Dynamight.” 

“Lay it on me.” He says calmly? Wow, you’ve never heard him so calm before. 

“So, why I’m I coming..?” You ask a little scared.

“Need ya to come with me cause you’re my damn assistant and you should do as I say. See ya next week y/n.”

He hangs up. God, his voice was so sexy. You couldn’t get enough of it. At least his bitch of a “girlfriend” isn’t coming. 

You go to work the next week after your short weekend. You get packed to go to Tokyo, and you plan to maybe go to Tokyo Disneyland since it’s not like your gonna be on patrol with him, right? 

Right? 

You make your way to the bus station to get to the Dynamight agency. It was snowing and a horrible day to wear a white high waist mini skirt with a cute flower cardigan. At least you have a snow jacket and shoes in the office. 

You pay for your ticket and get on the bus. The bus station was pretty packed, you cant be late today. You decided to go on your phone to see the news, until you get a text from your boss.

:Dynamight🧡💥: I need ya to get to the fuckin office now. Go to my office when you’re here.

:y/n: sorry! Bus station is a little full today. I’ll get there as fast as I can! :D

You see the Dynamight agency and run out the bus as fast as you could. You knew Bakugo was a hot head and the last person you wanna piss off. It was kinda hard to run in the thick snow with uggs on, but you couldn’t care less. You NEEDED to get to your boss. 

You open the large doors and greeted the front lady that at gives you little candies. 

“Thank you Mrs. Hellen!” You wave goodbye and pop the candy in your mouth. You get to the elevator and press floor 8. As you get on, you notice you have a big whole in your tights. Fuck. Those were new too! Damnit. 

You gracefully walk to Bakugo’s office and hear grunting on the other side of the door.

You knock on the door and you hear Bakugo startle and race to get up. You’re not sure what he was doing, but your little dirty mind thinks something else. 

“What-“ he looks down at you. “Get in here,” He pulls your wrist inside his office. 

“Good morning to you too, Mr. Dynamight.” You give him a warm smile and he falls back on his chair. 

You notice his face is a little red and his cheeks are slightly puffed. You couldn’t help but also noticed a bulge in his hero cargo pants. 

“Ay, eyes up here sweetheart.” He says with a a smug smirk.

“O-oh sorry. I was just thinking about my uh, hole in my tights.” You said. Nice save, you think to yourself.

“Uh huh.” He says turning his chair so the back faces you.

“So Mr. Dynamight-“

“We’re leaving tonight, did ya pack your shit?” You noticed he clenched his jaw when he span his chair to face you again.

“Yeah.. uhm, are you going to pick me up or-“

“Yeah. Text me your address when I leave.” 

“Ok.. thank you for your time.” You spin on your heel to leave. You opened the door and took slow steps. 

Well, guess you should start working.

@bakugounextswife

[vrystalius]

HI!! I’ve literally just been getting into Demon Slayer again, the phase never goes away 🥲

anyways, would it be alright to ask for a Genya x reader who’s Gyomei’s hardworking Tsuguko who has a hard time taking breaks? Take your sweet time and have a great day/night ❤️

Just for one minute…

You’ve been overworking yourself to the bone, training during the day and taking patrolling shifts during the night. Genya is starting to get worried about you not taking enough breaks…

Pairing: Genya x gn!reader

When’s the last time you’ve eaten? Drank some water? Heck, when did you even last sleep? Genya just finished his mandatory training for the day, watching you from the engawa of Gyomei’s estate. You’re really working hard to become stronger and more powerful and to become a hashira yourself one day, but this is a little too much on your body. Even Genya is starting to notice and that must mean something.

He had some sticky rice laid out on a cloth, positioned on his lap, making some onigiri with salmon filling. He carefully shaped them in his calloused hands, wanting them to look at least a little presentable. He’s not the best cook after all but wanted to make you a small meal to eat together, as some sort of reward for you working so hard. But also because Genya wants to personally see how you’re ingesting something edible other than hopes and prayers to not faint from exhaustion, dehydration or starvation.

To be quite honest, he may be using the food as an excuse to hang out with you a little. Gyomei continued to encourage him to speak and hang out with you to create a bond. It was obvious to Genya how his master tried to push you two closer. For example, assigning you to train and spar together, ordering you to patrol side by side during the nights or just frequently suggesting to hang out together during breaks. Doesn’t he know how much Genya sucks at talking to you? You make him extremely nervous with your pretty eyes and gorgeous smile, and especially with your kindness. You’re so attentive and nice to him, it makes him nauseous every time.

Genya figured it’s his turn to he nice and attentive for once, so he called you over to have lunch with him.

“I made too many onigiris to eat alone, want some? You’re probably hungry, haven’t seen ya eat at all today.”

You can’t resist saying no to that hopeful, little smile of his, but after sitting down together and letting your body rest, you fell into a minute long sleep while still slowly chewing onto the rice. Your body leaned over and against the railing and your mouth was slightly agape, the rice beginning to fall out onto the wood below. Genya worriedly shook you awake from your one-minute-nap.

“Hey… you should drop some night shift or at least let me do them. You really need to rest. I-I’m worried about you.”

He turned his head away after finishing his sentence, wanting to hide this stupid blush that is taking over his whole face. Is he seriously not able to control his face around you? Like, at all?! It’s extremely embarrassing and is probably coming off as childish!! But as Genya was beating himself up for being so flushed around you, he heard a soft sigh escape your lips.

“Just one more minute…”

Your voice made him turn his head towards you. You just hunched over and fell into a deep sleep, your mouth slightly agape. Again. Well, at least you chewed your rice until this time, but you failed to swallow it all since some still stuck to your cheek. You looked so awfully tired and yet peaceful in this sleeping state. Genya groaned quietly and slowly wrapped his arms around your shoulder, carefully shifting your position to lean your head against him, your full weight resting against his body.

Genya took the half-eaten onigiri out of your hands and put it onto the cloth he got it out from, wrapping it back up and placing it aside for the moment. He wiped the rice sway from with his sleeve.

You can eat the onigiris later, but for now, you really needed the sleep. He smiled slightly at your adorable expression while his hand soothingly started rubbing your shoulder. Genya’ll let you rest like that for as long as you like. You really deserve it.

💠

Hello, hello! Currently I’m uploading this from my mobile data so I am hoping and praying that I have enough to last for three days in this wlan-lacking-establishment. It’s nice though, me and my friend get to share a large room and we are right next to the forest and a creak! Also, so sorry for completing this request so late, hope you enjoyed it anyway!! I’m currently receiving a lot of asks to continue my Gyutaro fic and I am currently trying to figure something out!! Just know I am thinking about it a lot and am really trying to come up with something XD (Man, I really suck at doing part 2s. :,))

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough! It’s currently 1am and I need sleep desperately. XD

Take care of yourselves <3

[pedrospatch]

lost on you l a safe haven drabble

series masterlist

summary: You’re missing Joel and a certain mare seems to be picking up on your sadness—or at least that’s what you think is happening when there’s a sudden change in her behavior. Why else would Stella be acting so strange around you?

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. angst, horses, and a lil more angst. reader’s pregnancy is lightly being implied, but it has not been explicitly stated yet, only hinted at. no Joel, he is only mentioned in this one. Dina makes an appearance, i threw in some comedic moments to try and balance out the angst. ends with a horsey hug.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: so this is meant to be as a bit of a filler fic before chapter 9 is posted and shit hits the fan. i knew i wanted to do a short drabble that touches on how reader is doing after the confrontation she had with Joel. i also asked people to send in short prompts for the series to do some no pressure writing exercises, and this particular prompt that was sent in was just incredible and i decided to incorporate it. It makes me nervous to post a fic with no Joel in it, but my heart wanted to write it so fuck it, I just wrote it. chapter 9 is almost done and will be posted soon. @eyesneverbeensoblue i hope it’s okay to tag you in this and tell you thank you so much for the idea!

Lately, I’m getting lost on you

I tore your world apart like it was nothing new

every day I’m a slave to the heartache…

Summer slowly, but surely comes to an end.

The days are long, but the nights without Joel?

They’re even longer, at least, that’s how it feels.

You miss him. Oh God, how you fucking miss Joel Miller.

He’s all you can ever think about.

Every second of every minute of every single day.

You miss Joel so much that it physically hurts. Every part of you just aches for him. Aches. 

Your insides feel like they’re on fire, and you can't put it out.

The heartache is agonizing, almost unbearable—it’s unlike anything you have ever felt before.

In front of others, you hold it together pretty well. But when you’re alone, behind closed doors? 

That’s when you fall apart. Crumble into pieces.

Losing Joel is something you will never heal from. Never.

Traces of himself he’d left behind—would you ever be able to wipe yourself clean of them? Of him? Or would you have to spend the rest of your damn life trying to get over the man who fucking adored the hell out of you and who loved you so unconditionally?

“He misses you, you know,” Ellie says, quietly. She stands beside you and diligently runs a hard, bristled hand brush along Jasper’s side to clear his golden coat of dirt and debris. The palomino is just one of several horses that needed tending to after that morning’s patrol shift. Realizing you’re too busy jotting down notes in Jasper’s handwritten file you keep for him—you kept a file for every single horse in the commune—Ellie clears her throat and then speaks again, louder this time. “He misses you.”

You wince and stop mid scribble.

“Ellie—” you trail off, your throat going dry.

Even though you’d asked her about a hundred and one times not to talk about Joel, Ellie was hellbent on bringing him up to you as often as she could. At first, it seemed innocent enough. She stuck to just letting you know how his recovery was going.

“His shoulder’s healing really well.” 

“Donna came over to help with physical therapy.” 

“He’ll be back on patrol in a couple of weeks.” 

So you’d given her a pass. Besides, you would be a liar if you said you didn’t want to know how he was healing after his injury.

However, Ellie then began to wander into more sensitive and dangerous territory.

“He asked me about you.” 

“He was drinking again last night.” 

“He looks so fucking miserable.” 

You know why she’s doing it.

It’s not to make you feel guilty for hurting Joel.

Hell, she knows that you’re hurting just as badly. She loves you and she loves Joel—the two people Ellie cares about more than anything are suffering without each other.

You hate that she’s essentially been pulled right into the middle of this mess that you’ve created.

Ellie is collateral damage. This is all hurting her too.

“He misses you a lot,” she adds after a minute.

You exhale sharply. Her words feel like a punch to the gut and they knock the wind out of your lungs.

Finally, you look up from your clipboard, turning to her. “Ellie,” you say her name warningly. “Stop it. We’re not going to do this today. Okay?”

“I’m just saying,” she mumbles, placing a hand on Jasper’s side. “If someone was missing me, I think I would want to fucking know.”

You feel the lump steadily rising in your throat.

“Ellie, please don’t—”

“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here!”

The sound of Dina’s voice fills the horse stables.

The teenager whips herself into Jasper’s stall, skidding to a stop in front of you, sweaty and breathless, as if she had just run across the settlement.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” She apologizes, setting her bag down on the ground. Pulling a scrunchie from the back pocket of her jeans, she throws her long, black hair into a messy bun as she explains herself. “Talia asked me to help her out in the library this morning and I totally lost track of time. And then on the way over here, I bumped into Mrs. Miller as she was walking home from the market and I mean, I could not just let a pregnant lady carry all those heavy bags across town—”

“Dina, breathe, sweetheart.” You hold up a hand to stop her. “It’s okay. As long as you show up, that’s all I care about. Especially since Tommy and Maria moved Logan to patrol duty. That’s another stable hand gone, so I need all the help I can possibly get around here.” Slipping your clipboard under your arm, you glance from Dina to Ellie. The emotions from what had happened just seconds before your niece had run in are bubbling, threatening to boil over. “Listen, I have to go do a routine examination on Stella. Finish up with grooming Jasper. I have a couple of horses that are due for baths—Luna and Bandit. Then it’s feeding time. Got it?”

Dina smiles brightly. “We’ll take care of it, won’t we, El?”

Sensing your urgency to leave, Ellie gives a subtle, small nod of her head. “Yeah. We will.”

“Good. I’ll come check on you girls when I’m done with Stella.” Spinning around on the muck caked heel of your boot, you hastily leave Jasper’s stall and nearly fly all the way down the stables and into Stella’s.

You rush inside, closing the top and bottom half of the Dutch door before sagging back against the wood. You toss your clipboard aside on the floor of the stall and lift both your hands, covering your face as you choke back sobs of pure agony.

He misses you. 

As you will yourself to keep yourself from falling apart, you feel a warm muzzle dig lightly into your lower stomach. Dropping your hands from your face, you glance up only to see Stella peering at you with clear and unmistakable curiosity in her big brown eyes.

“Hi there, my gorgeous girl,” you murmur softly to the pregnant mare. A tear slips out from the corner of your eye and you quickly wipe it away with the back of your hand.

Stella lowers her head and sniffs at your stomach, right where she had dug into you. Her ears prick forward and she nuzzles the same spot again.

You shoot her a strange look. You’ve never seen her exhibit this type of behavior before.

“Stella, what are you doing?” you ask, almost as if you expect her to speak and give you an answer. “Why are you being so weird?”

Stella sniffs you again, then nips at the hem of your tank top.

“Hey! Cut that out.” You can’t help but let out a watery giggle as you carefully pull the fabric out of her mouth. Realizing the strange behavior must have something to do with the mare sensing the intensity of your negative emotions, you gently place both of your hands on either side of her muzzle. Inhaling a deep breath through your nose, you slowly exhale it through your mouth before touching your forehead to hers. “I’ll be okay, girl. I’ll be okay. There’s no other choice—I have to be okay.”

An hour later, you’d finished the examination.

Stella had continued to act oddly around you, her behavior becoming more and more peculiar as time went on. You were bonded to her of course—you were bonded to just about every single horse in the commune—and so it didn’t really surprise you that the mare was so in tune with your emotions and could feel that something was off. She was extremely attentive to you as you worked, her eyes never leaving you, not even for a second.

Stella also continued to sniff you, nuzzling you in the stomach any chance she had. For as bizarre as it was, it brought you an off sense of comfort and it made you feel less alone.

“Hey auntie.” Dina opens the stall door, poking her head inside. “Can we come in?”

“Of course.”

She pushes the door open further and walks into the stall with Ellie on her heels. Both of them are almost completely soaked from head to toe. 

Your eyes widen. “Um, girls, I’m pretty sure I told you to bathe the horses—not yourselves.”

Ellie lets out a small scoff. “Ha ha. Very funny.”

“Bandit wasn’t having it,” Dina chuckles. “But he’s all clean, and so is Luna. We just came in to tell you we’re going to go dry off and change our clothes. We’ll be back for feeding time.” She glances at the mare. “How’s our sweet mama-to-be doing?”

“Good. She’s as healthy as a horse.”

The teenagers roll their eyes, but laugh.

“You’re so lame, auntie.”

“Just a little equine veterinarian humor. My dad used that one on me all the time.” You grin at the memory. “Stella’s doing really well. In about seven or eight months, we’ll have our new baby.”

“Well then, I think someone deserves a little treat since she’s doing so good.” Dina reaches into the bag she has slung over her shoulder and pulls out a crisp, red apple. She walks over, holding the fruit out in the palm of her hand for the horse. “Here you go, girl.”

Stella gives the apple a sniff, then takes it from her. 

Usually, she wolfs it down in just a few chomps—but what she does next surprises all three of you. Apple still between her teeth, the mare turns and pushes her muzzle into your stomach.

“Oh shit,” Ellie cackles. “No fucking way!”

“Oh my god,” Dina grins. “Is she—she’s giving it to you?”

Shocked, you lift a hand and delicately take the apple from between her teeth. “Stella, you silly girl! What are you doing?” You hold it out for her. “This apple is for you, sweetheart. Here, take it.”

She tosses her head in the air.

Dina snorts into her hand. “She just told you no!”

“She wants you to have it.” Ellie shoots you a teasing look. “Come on, princess. Take a bite.”

You look at her, then down at the apple, which is covered completely in Stella’s slobber.

“Um, no thanks. I think I’ll pass,” you mutter. 

“Auntie, don’t be rude,” Dina jokes. “It’s bad manners to refuse her offer.”

Rolling your eyes at your niece, you turn back to Stella and tell her, “I’ll eat it later. When it’s washed.”

“We’re starting to smell like wet horse,” Ellie makes a gagging noise as she takes a whiff of her shirt.

Dina lifts the collar of her blouse to her nose. “Oh, gross. We are starting to smell like wet horse.” She reaches out with her opposite hand, grabbing one of Ellie’s. She laces their fingers together. “Come on, let’s go change.”

You can’t help but notice the way Dina looks at Ellie—with the sweetest, most adoring little smile.

You raise an eyebrow, cocking your head slightly.

Ellie’s eyes meet yours and she blushes deeply.

If you ever had a chance to give Ellie Williams shit, this was it—but instead, you just give her a subtle wink from where you stand. Her face instantly goes from red to maroon.

“Be sure to be back in an hour for feeding time!” you call as Dina pulls her out of the stall. “I’m not feeding all these horses alone!”

“We will!”

Once the girls are gone, you turn to Stella and wrap your arms around her neck. “Thanks for trying to cheer me up today, pretty girl.”

She rests her head on your shoulder.

You feel more tears coming and hug her harder.

lyrics: Lost on You - Lewis Capaldi

[crunchwrapsnoopy]

Holiday Party Planning Committee [Keigo Takami x Reader]

⋆⁺₊❅.It's Beginning to Look a Lot like Christmas⋆⁺₊❅.

"take a look at the five and ten, it's glistening again, with candy canes and silver lanes aglow!"

Just a cutesy Hawks Christmas-y drabble because Halloween is over and I'm excited for the holidays! ٩>ᴗ<)و

Hawks x F! Assistant! Reader

⋆꙳•❅‧₊⋆☃︎‧❆₊⋆

WC: 627

“Hawks’ looking for you- whaddya do?” one of my boss’s sidekicks asks while lazily leaning against my desk while being careful to avoid messing up my pretty display of knick knacks and trinkets. 

I look up from my computer curiously tilting my head, “Did he say what he wanted? I’m kinda busy.” I ask, not wanting to waste my time, I’m swamped with paperwork as is. 

“Nah. Cool if I take a piece, Ms. L/N?” He eyes my little candy holder filled with peppermints. I nod and he takes two, opening one and popping it in his mouth and slipping the other in his pocket. “But anywho… he seemed antsy, somethin’s ruffling his feathers,” he jokes, “better hop to it.” He taps my desk and walks off leisurely. 

I get up from my desk and go to Hawks’ office, he looks stressed out, several papers draped over his desk. He notices as I come in, looking up and straight at me his face brightens, “There’s my favorite assistant!” your only assistant. “I need your help, it’s urgent.”

“What is it? I was doing your reports from your last mission.” I say as I walk further into the office. 

“It shouldn’t take that long, c’mere,” he beckons me closer and flips his computer screen to show me something. A gingerbread house. I hold back my stressed out bitch face and the urge to strangle this bird. “The holiday party’s coming up- don’t know which I should make this year, do you like this one?” he moves the cursor to a different tab and clicks, showing another gingerbread mansion, “or this one? This one looks a little harder, but I think I could-”

I cut him off, “Hawks, I was doing something important, it’s only November 2nd, this can wait.” 

“This is important, and I need to start planning now so when the time comes it won't be like last year.” Hawks reminds me of our last Christmas party at the agency. He decided we’d have a party a week before the date he set and it ended up being a catastrophe. A sad punch bowl with a pack of solo cups, a package of oreos, and a few loose streamers. This year he clearly was coming for redemption. “And last time I checked, you’re never stressed over reports,” he scoffed. 

I bite the inside of my lip, nervous about admitting to my fault, “I’m behind on a few reports. You did a lot of stuff on patrol last week, it was hard to keep up.” I explain as I rock back and forth on my heels. 

“How far behind are you?” He looks at me curiously, noting how nervous I am for his reaction. 

“5 or 6-” 

He laughs, cutting me off, “You’re worried about 5 or 6 reports? Before I got an assistant- I’d always be twenty or more behind.” 

“No wonder they made you hire me.” I breathe out, my anxieties about the reports practically leaving my body.

Hawks shakes his head, still tickled about how worried I was, “You’re a good assistant Y/N, but you’d be a great one if you’d just shut up and help me pick a gingerbread house.” He nods to his computer screen once more. 

“Right,” I look at the gingerbread houses on the screen carefully, the second one does look way harder, like he said. “I think the first one would be easier to fit in your schedule.” 

He nods thoughtfully, “True, but I like the little gingerbread car on the second one, the first one makes me sad, the gingerbread men have no mode of transportation.” 

“You could just add the gingerbread car to the first one.” I shrug. 

“I didn’t even think of that.”

⋆꙳•❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔:･*❆ ₊⋆

[roses-for-rosalyn]

Hey sweetheart, I have this idea about cop!Ellie and cop!reader I've never shared bc I'm so shy to ask, but if you are open to write about it here it is.(sorry if something doesn't make sense inglish is not my first lenguage)

Well Ellie and reader are work partners and they don't really like each other because Ellie is kinda mean?(she is the director btw) but there's a tension between them anyways. So they have a night shift together and on the way in the car the reader begins to flirt, like touching ellie's thigh, and she stops in a field and fucks the reader brains out<33

-💌

This took forever but I hope I did your idea justice!

a/n: sorry I haven’t written anything in so long, life is crazy

Ellie x reader

Wc: 3k (roughly)

Minors dni 🔞 (I will jump through your screen and poke you in the eyes I stg)

CWs: police officer! Ellie and reader, play girl Ellie, fem reader, cop stuff idk, enemies to lovers (ish?), thigh riding, overstim, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), multiple orgasms

—

As a small town cop things rarely became dangerous, so on the rare occasion things did go awry no one was really prepared. You got a call about a car speeding through town at about 90 miles an hour. It quickly becomes a chase with Williams at the wheel. Before she even starts catching up to the car you both begin bickering on what roads to take to catch up and who can read the license plate better. The world becomes a blur as the car picks up speed, the roaring of the engine and the sound of the sirens make it hard to hear anything.

You attempt to shout over the noise, “Williams we might be able to catch them if we take-”

“Shutthefuckup I know what I’m doing!” She yells back even louder, more irritated because you dared tell her what to do. She didn’t even let you finish and she missed the turn that would have taken you ahead of the car to block their path.

“Williams we’re gonna lose ‘em.” You couldn’t convince her, you’re not sure anyone could have. The car takes a sudden turn and she misses it, she quickly reverses and turns down the dirt road only for the car to disappear from sight. She tries to make a few turns but it’s useless, these roads went in every direction with thick woods surrounding them. Even townies got lost in there.

She slows the car down eventually coming to a stop in the middle of the road and quietly mutters “Fuck.” under her breath.

“Maybe you should have listened to the directional advice from someone who was fucking born here instead of trying to do everything yourself.” You can’t help but notice you scolded her like a primary school teacher, but she makes it so hard when she acts like this.

“Please I don’t need a fucking ‘I told you so’ talk right now.” She huffs.

“I hope you know this is completely your fault, I can’t fucking believe-”

“I swear to god if you keep talking I’m going to kick you out of this goddamn car.” She turns and looks at you straight in the eye, challenging you. Her tone is eerily calm. You narrow your gaze but say nothing, turning to look straight ahead. And with that she drives you both back to the station, defeated with only half of the criminal's license plate.

- -

Patrol partners are supposed to be friends- Or at least friend-ly. That’s what anyone would assume, you have to spend every day together, not getting along would just result in various inconvenient miscommunications and misunderstandings.

Yeah, well you weren’t that lucky. Your patrol partner is Ellie Williams aka “Williams” according to her various male coworkers. Her female coworkers tended to lean more towards nicknames like “whore” or “slut” considering she hooked up with a couple of them and then acted like she barely knew them at work the next day and did it all over again. She had to start finding hookups outside the station last month because all her go-tos had refused her unless she wanted something serious. On top of that the few that she got with turned the rest of the girls against her, all she had left was you and all the guys at the station- and you didn’t really count since you were forced to be with her. This meant recently she was particularly irritable considering she couldn’t find a lot- if any- women to relieve any of her tension, so patrolling with her for the past 30 days has been hell.

On a more positive note it made gossiping with your coworkers over coffee the best part of your day. They would talk about their hookups which would inevitably lead back to shit talking Williams- which you would enthusiastically participate in considering how she treated you on the job. However they all agreed that they tolerated it for as long as they did because the sex was good. And you believed them because they had to put up with some crazy bullshit from her. A tiny part of you yearned for them to explain just how good it was, but you’d never ever give in to that curiosity.

Williams- on the rare occasion she would say anything- was mean, she would make snide comments all the time no matter what task you were taking on. She had some sort of superiority complex because she was- admittedly- very good at her job. She had transferred from some big city to your small town station and she had much more experience. She was incredibly skilled at taking people down when she needed to. However, compared to her old job, barely anything happens here. When something did happen she would insist on taking over the task almost every single time, the only thing she couldn’t trump you in was de-escalation. She was terrible at communication and that was most of the job. Calls would mostly be noise complaints or welfare checks, so you took the lead for those and it drove her crazy. She couldn’t stand being inferior to anyone, especially on the job. So you were squabbling constantly.

And for some reason tonight she was in a particularly bad mood. You’re stationed on the side of the road, keeping watch for anyone disobeying any road safety laws and Williams is silent. Not particularly unusual, but her body language was odd, she was weirdly tense. She sat fidgeting with her hands, picking at her cuticles, occasionally glancing up if she heard a car. Nothing in you wanted to show you cared at all for her, because you didn’t, but at this point you were so bored you didn’t care if you started one of your usual squabbles.

“Something wrong Williams?” You tentatively ask.

“ ‘m fine, just tired.” she says, still not glancing up.

“You seem offly tense for a tired person.” You try to push her a bit.

She finally looks up at you, her expression remaining neutral “Considering your observations, you really think now’s a good time to test me sweetheart?” God you hated when she called you that, she refused to refer to you by your last name, always resorting to some condescending nickname.

You roll your eyes, just as you were about to respond a staticky voice interrupts, asking for anyone available for a call about a noise complaint about two minutes away. Ellie picks up the walkie and calls in saying she could take it and starts the car.

You drive there in silence and to no one’s surprise it’s Mrs. Taylor. She frequently calls at night whenever she hears her teenage neighbors so much as talk loud enough for her to hear. And every time she would make you both walk over to them and ask them to quiet down.

This time though when you got out of the car you could hear muffled music coming from the neighbor’s all the way from Mrs. Taylor’s lawn. You walk up to her door, Williams following silently, and knock gently a couple of times. You hear soft shuffling, a lock clicking and then the door opens revealing the grumpy old woman’s tired face. She’s wearing a long dusty pink robe, striped pajama pants and ratty slippers, clearly she had been recently woken up by the noise.

“Hello Mrs. Taylor.” You smile politely.

“Hello dear.” She smiles back at you, but falters for a moment when she spots your partner, refusing to acknowledge her presence. She used to babysit all the kids in the neighborhood, you were always her favorite. She treated everyone else like they were some sort of pest, especially outsiders.

“Neighbors bothering you again?” You already knew the answer, but you felt the need to be polite.

“I can’t sleep with all that ruckus, rotten children they are. Too bad too, they used to be the sweetest when they were little.” She shook her head.

“Alright we’ll get it all sorted out, you can go back to bed.” You nod your head.

The old woman smiles before reaching forward and pinching your cheek while saying “You’re so good to me dear. Come over for dinner some time so I can make it up to you.”

“Just doing my job ma'am.” You reassure her.

“Well, goodnight. Call me tomorrow morning and we’ll sort something out.” She begins shuffling backwards, and grabs the door handle.

“Good night Mrs. Taylor.” You wave at her and she closes the door.

“God you’re unbelievable.” Ellie scoffs from behind you.

“What?” you turn around to face her.

“Would it kill you to be nice to me like that once in a while?” For the life of you you could not figure out where this was coming from.

“You have to earn it.” You retort, while beginning to walk to the neighbors house. Ellie just huffs and jogs a bit to catch up to you, god forbid you get ahead of her in any way.

You make your way to the house, the bass rattling your teeth by the time you're on the front stoop. Ellie takes her usual spot behind you and you knock loudly, bashing your fist against the door. Hopefully someone hears so you don’t have to make a scene, they weren’t bad kids. Sure enough the music turns off and the door opens slowly revealing a set of scared, round eyes.

“Hey Kelly.” You knew her well from the past complaints, she was pretty polite especially for a teenager. The poor girl was practically shaking. “You probably know why we’re here.” She nods slowly. “Ok, so just do us a favor and turn your music down so we don’t get another call from Mrs. Taylor alright?” you say gently, knowing when you’re in uniform everything about you was intimidating enough without you having to yell.

“Th-that’s it?” She asks, her whole body shaking with adrenaline at this point.

“Yup, just make sure this doesn’t happen again. Shouldn’t have the volume that high anyway, it’s bad for your hearing.” You smile, “Probably don’t want to go deaf by the time you’re 20.”

Kelly just nods again “O-ok thank you. We’ll keep it down, promise.”

“Alright have a good night, stay out of trouble.” You turn away and Ellie does the same.

The walk back to the car is silent except for the steady hum of cicadas. You’re about to put your seatbelt on when Ellie says “So what do I have to do?”

You pause your movements, “What?”

“What do I have to do to earn it?” When you still look confused she elaborates “You being nice to me. What do I have to do to earn that?”

“I don’t know. With the way you treat me it’s almost like you enjoy me being mean to you.” You let out a dry laugh.

She slowly leans towards you, “Oh, I do.” She says, her tone changing completely, her voice becomes raspy and deep, almost like a whisper and a smirk tugs at her lips. “I love making you mad, but something tells me you’re even more delightful when you’re all sweet like that.”

“Williams what-” She leans even closer, inches away from your face and suddenly you forgot everything that wasn’t Ellie. You couldn’t utter a word if you tried.

“Tell me.” Her eyes flicker from yours to your lips. “What.” Her lips are so close you can almost feel her words. “To do.” You let out a sigh and give in, abandoning all logic you press your lips against hers. She stiffens but then her hands automatically move to cup your jaw so she can deepen the kiss. Her tongue swipes across your lips, inviting them to open. You can’t really move, unable to completely process what’s happening. She’s so warm and soft and everything you didn’t expect.

She starts making her way down to your neck, exploring your reactions as she kisses and sucks at the sensitive skin. A small whimper escapes from your lips, and Ellie is sure she’s never heard something more intoxicating.

“Williams-” She finds a particular spot behind your ear that causes you to let out a quiet moan, making you forget how to speak for a moment.

“W-we can’t do this here, you know that.” She stops and moves her head to meet your gaze.

“You’re right, we should probably find someplace where we don’t run the risk of teenagers or Mrs. Taylor finding us.” That wasn’t what you meant but it was probably the first time she had ever agreed with you the entire time you’ve been partners.

--

She pulls off the road into a field and as soon as she parks she immediately starts where she left off. Somehow she knew exactly how to reduce you to a whimpering mess in mere moments. In between kisses she whispers “Take off your belt.” Her tone was so sure and dominant it sent a wave of arousal straight to your center. You do as she says, you forgot you had put on your utility belt for the call, but she clearly took note. You try not to move too much as she continues marking up your skin. She stops again, “Now get in the back.” She doesn’t wait for your response before taking her own utility belt off, leaving it in the front seat and opening her door. It was a little more work in a patrol car considering there were bars separating the front and backseat, but at this point neither of you cared much.

Ellie is first to sit down in the back and shut the door behind her, you do the same and crawl over to straddle her lap. “You feelin a little eager, sweetheart?” She looks at you with that obnoxious smirk on her face, but this time it didn’t annoy you as much as it usually did. You kiss the grin off her face before moving to her neck, listening to her little sighs and moans as you press your lips to her soft skin. The noises she’s making send arousal straight to your aching center and you begin to grind down on her lap, desperate for some kind of relief. She starts taking off your belt with trembling, eager fingers and throws it off to the side. You reach for hers as she untucks your shirt and begins unbuttoning it as quickly as she could, leaving you in your tank top. Your lips meet hers and the kisses grow hungrier by the second, each of you becoming more and more eager to undress the other.

As you begin to unfasten Ellie’s shirt she sighs in frustration, “Jesus christ all these fucking layers are driving me crazy.”

You laugh and say in between kisses, “Gotta make you work for it Williams.” With that she rips off your tank top, and immediately begins groping your breasts over your bra. You moan into her mouth and begin to grind down onto her even harder. Ellie notices and spreads her legs a bit, moving your leg in between hers so you were straddling her thigh. Relief rushes through you as you lower down onto her muscular thigh and begin moving your hips back and forth. She reaches behind you to unclasp your bra leaving your top half bare for her. She can’t resist breaking the kiss to move her focus to your chest, taking your nipple in her mouth with a satisfied hum. A soft whine escapes your lips as her warm tongue circles your sensitive nipples. Her hands have a steady hold on your hips, encouraging you to move against her thigh, harder and faster. Yours have found a home in her hair, tugging harder and harder as your pleasure builds on itself causing Ellie to groan as arousal begins to pool in her boxers.

“Get up.” Ellie commands in a hoarse whisper that sends butterflies straight to your cunt. You climb off her and lean against the car door. The sight of you in the dim moonlight, topless with spread legs and unzipped pants, a fucked out expression on your face almost has Ellie coming right then and there. She unties your shoes and gently removes them, before grabbing the hem of your pants and tugging them down in one swift motion. She crawls between your legs and wraps her arms around each of your thighs, gently kissing a path to your dripping cunt. A wet spot had formed on your panties causing your face to become hot from embarrassment, but Ellie seemed to have a different reaction “God you’re so beautiful, it’s driving me crazy.” She begins teasing you over the fabric of your underwear, running her fingers up and down your slit. A whimper escapes your lips as a silent plea for more, but she continues teasing. She finally pulls the fabric of your underwear to the side and takes a moment before gently blowing on your soaked folds.

“Please-” you manage to whimper as the cool air from Ellie’s lips hits your warm center sending a pleasurable shock through you. You would expect for her to make you beg for it, but she immediately obliged, licking a line from your dripping entrance to your clit. You gasp and grip on to her hair, searching for anything to hold on to as pleasure overwhelms every one of your senses. Ellie groans at the feeling as she begins gently licking at your clit, teasing you. The sound sends vibrations through your lower body and you moan at the feeling, now losing any control you had over the volume of your voice. She begins moving her tongue in circles over your sensitive bud as she teases your entrance with a slender finger. You let out the loudest moan yet, encouraging Ellie to plunge her finger further inside you. It slides in easily, arousal practically coating your thighs at this point. Suddenly she hits the spot causing a desperate whiny “Oh fuck,” To escape from your swollen lips as you clench lightly around her finger. She adds a second, the feeling of her two fingers causes a satisfying amount of pressure to fill your cunt. She hits a spot that you swear sends white light through your closed eyes and keeps hitting it with every rough, slow thrust of her fingers. Your hips begin to move, trying to get her to fuck you harder but she only pins your down by your waist with her free hand forcing you to endure her painful pace. “Ellie,” you whine, “please- I-“ you cut yourself off with a moan.

“What do you need sweetheart?” She pauses briefly to look at your fucked out expression and your arousal has dropped all the down her chin. The very sight almost does you in.

“Please,” you beg her in hopes she’ll spare you the humiliation of asking her.

“Mm mm,” she lightly shakes her head “words baby.” That was a much better nickname, the way she said baby made your cunt flutter around her fingers

“P-please-” you sigh before finishing “-fuck me harder pleasee.” You think that’s probably the most pathetic you’ll ever sound but Ellie obeys. She sucks your puffy clit into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the hypersensitive nub before moving her fingers faster. She picks up speed until you can’t think about anything but Ellie’s mouth and fingers. The pace was practically inhuman, you tilt your head back as a silent scream rips it’s way through you before you moan “fffuuckk,” in a high pitched tone. She continues moving her hands rapidly in and out of you curling them at just the right angle. You begin to flutter around her fingers and she knew you were close.

“Almost there baby?” All you can do in response in moan, she has you practically incapacitated. She giggled a little “Good, come for me.” As her words reached your ears your pleasure finally hit it’s peak. You begin writing against Ellie’s fingers as you roughly clench down on them. Your pleasure rips through you in overwhelming waves, moans uncontrollably leaving your lips as Ellie’s fingers continue their brutal pace. She doesn’t let up though, she keeps going as your clit grows more and more sensitive. You tug at her hair but she doesn’t move, she continues as your hips begin bucking against her arm that was pinning you down.

“Ellie it’s too much I can’t-”

“You can take one more can’t you sweetheart?” She asks sweetly as she fucks your sensitive hole with no mercy. You just nod and she continues sucking and licking at your clit, occasionally moaning which only enhanced the overwhelming pleasure. This time you were more tightly wound up and faster. It didn’t take long before you approached the edge again, the feeling twice as intense. You almost worry as it begins to build and build, just as you thought you had reached your peak it kept going. You finally topple over the edge as Ellie’s teeth lightly graze your clit, the feeling sending you into overdrive. You tugs Ellie’s hair harder than you ever had before as you make a mess all over the seats and Ellie’s mouth and fingers. She laps it all up contently, actually backing down when you pushed her away this time. She leans back into her knees and tries to catch her breath.

A smirk grows on your face as you begin leaning towards her, “it’s your turn.”

—

Idrk how I feel about this but at least I finished it 😀👍

Reblogs and notes are always appreciated and encouraged 💕‼️

Hopefully I will start updating more but I can’t really promise anything lmao

[backtothefanfiction]

The Miller Boys | The Last of Us Imagine

Summary: What a tangled web life weaves.

Warnings: angst, mentions of past sexual relations, lying, mentions of pregnancy scare

A/N- this started as a quick one shot before bed but as I began to write, quickly became a follow on from Insecure which I know some people wanted a sequel too, so here it is. Enjoy.

It hadn’t been what he was expecting when he thought about finding his brother again. It was one thing that Tommy seemed to be living in a commune, it was another that he was with you.

You were equally as shocked when Joel came riding into town, a young girl in tow. You were even more so when he began to shout out for Tommy when he locked eyes with him. You thought Miller was a popular name. They were on different sides of the country. Both of them had spoken about having a brother but they never mentioned their first name to you. It was always “my brother” this; and “my brother” that. Now they were both here in front of you- and you didn’t know what to do.

It had been the hardest decision to leave Joel. So hard in fact that you had left the QZ entirely, trekking across the country in search of other refuge. It was pure luck that you came across Jackson and that they let you in. You had been introduced to Tommy that first night at the bar. Your thoughts were still struggling with the fact you had finally decided to leave Joel. You just couldn’t take it anymore. After that night and dinner with Tess, you carried on with Joel the way things were for another four months. You had thought after your talk he’d at least open up more about his feelings in private. Even if he didn’t want a label, you still thought from the way he spoke that night that he would be more open with his feelings in private. But he didn’t- and the silence became deafening.

You had thought that maybe if you threatened to actually leave he would say something, at least beg you to stay- but he didn’t. He just said “If you want to go, then go.”

You knew you were just playing into his own thoughts then. You remembered what he said about Sarah and her Mom leaving him. Even mentioned once his brother leaving him. So when you said you were leaving him, he didn’t put up a fight. He had already kept you at a far enough distance that it wouldn’t matter if he let you go. Or at least, that’s what you thought when you left.

It hurt to leave. He might not have been attached to you, but for you, cutting that cord hurt. You thought the trek across country might help make you forget, the threat to your life out there needing to make you move carefully. But in the end, being alone with your thoughts just made it worse. At first you had cried, but then you were just angry; and with no way of letting that out, it simmered and festered in you to the point you didn’t know how to talk about it. So when you got to Jackson- you drank.

You made new friends. And you drank.

Tommy already had a girlfriend when you met him. He even introduced you to her and she was lovely. However one day she went out on rotation to patrol the area and she didn’t come back. Tommy didn’t know how to deal with it. So he drank.

It didn’t take long with you both getting drunk of a night to start going home together and sharing each others beds. He was a good looking guy after all- and it turned out, you were just his type.

After a while the two of you began to drink less and less, finding more comfort in one another than the bottle. A little while after that you had a pregnancy scare. You were terrified. You didn’t want to bring a kid into this world, but you feared even more telling Tommy and him leaving you. But he didn’t. Unlike the last man you caught feelings for, who couldn’t seem to reciprocate those feelings, Tommy did. He had no shame in wanting to make things official between the two of you. And even when it turned out you weren’t pregnant, he still stayed with you.

“Kid, no kid, I love you, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.” He had said. And that was when you knew that you had finally found the right person, the right place. You felt safe and loved and for the first time in a long time, things started to look right in the world.

That was until Joel came to Jackson.

You knew his voice the moment you heard him shout Tommy’s name. It made your stomach twist and you were sure you were going to actually be sick.

“Hey, you okay?” An older lady named Helen asked as you stopped shovelling snow and clutched at your stomach as you watched Tommy and Joel embrace. You felt as pale as the snow you were shovelling as the blood drained from your face and your brow grew clammy.

“I’ll be fine.” You said and swallowed deeply, waving her off with one hand, as you rested your body weight onto the shovel stuck in the snow with the other. “Just over did it a little bit there.” You said and pulled at the neck of your coat and jumper, trying to play off you were just working too hard, but as you heard your boyfriend call your name from across the way, it was hard to play off that second wave of nausea that washed over you.

You took a deep breath, moving your shovel off to the side, before you turned towards their small group, a fake tight lipped welcoming smile across your face.

“Uh Joel, this is my girlfriend-“

Before Tommy could get your name out of his mouth, or Joel could say anything to Tommy about the two of you already knowing each other, you made the split decision to hold out your hand and pretend to introduce yourself to Joel. His eyes flicker with suspicion as he takes your hand and shakes it, but with one look to his brother and back to you and your pleading eyes, he decides to play along.

“Joel.” He says and it takes all your strength to not let his voice affect you, but you feel your knees wobble all the same.

“Hi, I’m Ellie.” The young girl beside him introduces herself.

“Hi.” You greet back. “You guys must be freezing.” You say.

“And hungry.” Ellie adds.

“Come on, let’s go see if we can’t find you something to eat and get you warm.” You say, beginning to lead them towards the mess hall.

“This place is so cool.” You hear Ellie gush to Tommy as he begins to lead the way, however Joel’s fingers reach for your wrist and you reluctantly hang at the back of your little group with him.

“So how’s this gonna go?” He asks you, “You gonna pretend like we never met?” You don’t know how to respond. “Pretend we didn’t live together or travel together for nearly a year? Pretend you never came on my cock?”

“Oh so now all that matters.” You hiss beneath your breath.

“Of course it fucking mattered.” He hisses back. “And now I find you here shacking up with my brother of all people.”

“Yeah, well at least he’s not afraid to tell me he loves me.” You spit back, bring you both to a complete stop.

When you look at him, you can see the hurt in his eyes. “Don’t.” He says. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” You ask, that anger you thought had long past, now beginning to simmer again, because just seeing him- hearing his voice- you know you’ll never truly be over Joel. And you knew exactly why. Because he could never say he loved you… until now.

“You know I loved you.”

His words fry your senses. All feeling- all rational thought- falling away like you just stepped off a really tall diving board. But instead of being met with that cool cocoon of water, your emotions finally being reciprocated and allowed to flow free, the pool is empty. It’s like landing on concrete. There’s only pain. Pain for what was. Pain for what is.

That pain suddenly turns to rage and it only makes you spiteful. “Then why didn’t you say anything. Why didn’t you make me stay?” But he doesn’t have an answer. He just stares at you blankly.

You hear the door to the mess hall open back up behind you. “Hey, you two coming?” Tommy shouts towards you.

“Yeah.” You respond, but you aren’t able to look at him straight away as you wipe a stray tear from your cheek. “Yeah.” You say again, turning towards him with the largest fake smile you can muster and begin to step towards him, Joel slowly following behind. “I love you.” You say to Tommy as you reach up on your toes to kiss him in the door way.

“I love you too.” He smiles before giving you another kiss and a pat on the bum for good measure, ushering you inside. And when you finally sit down at the table altogether and you see Joel’s face- you know your little show had its desired effect. You only wish it felt more satisfying.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Asking for Help

whumptober24 day 31- asking for help fandom - dp x dc tw- mentioned injury summary- they need help, and they need to learn to ask for it

masterlist ao3 part 9 of TFR

Jazz stared at Danny’s wound. They’d done their best to stitch it up and keep it clean. But the skin around the incision was red and inflamed. She couldn’t tell if it was infected or not. She didn’t even know if Danny could get infections.

She bit her lip. “Danny…” she trailed off. “I think we need someone to look at this.”

Danny didn’t say anything. 

“Danny.”

He turned to look at her.

“Danny, we need someone to look at this. It could be infected, and the stitches are done terribly, and I don't know how to take care of it. We need help.”

Danny looked away again. “Who could we tell?”

“Barbara said she knew some people.”

“Are we even sure we can trust her?” he said.

Jazz frowned at him. “Danny,” she took his hand in hers, “you’ve told me that you feel nothing but kindness and honesty from her. I don’t think she was lying to us. I know… I know how hard it is to trust people. I’m anxious too. But we need help. We can’t have this injury getting worse.”

Danny sighed. “Okay.” he whispered.

Jazz’s smile was wobbly, but she squeezed his hand. “I’ll tell Barbara.” She stood, letting go of his hand and walking out of the room and heading toward the kitchen where she could hear Barbara moving around.

“Barbara?” she said, stepping into the kitchen.

“You can call me Babs, Jazz.” Babs said scrubbing a plate from breakfast.

Jazz tried to smile, but it was only a tiny thing. “You mentioned something last night about knowing someone with medical training?”

Babs paused while rinsing off a plate. “Yes. I know two people. An older woman who runs a private clinic, and an older gentleman. I trust them both.”

Jazz bit her lip. “I don’t know… his injuries… they’re bad.” Jazz had wrapped her arms around himself and was staring at the ground.

“Does he need help urgently?” Babs asked, trying to keep her voice calm, but she could feel fear climbing up her through. How badly was Danny injured?

Jazz shook her head. “I don’t think so. But… I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help him.”

Babs wheeled herself over, placing a hand on Jazz’s arm. “It’s okay, Jazz. You’re doing what you can. We can get him the help he needs. He’ll be okay.”

Jazz relaxed slightly.

“Do you have a preference for who I ask to come and check Danny?”

She shook her head.

“Okay, then I’ll give them both a call and see who’s available.” 

Jazz nodded. “Okay.” She paused. “Thank you.” she whispered before leaving to go back to Danny.

Babs stared after her. How badly was Danny injured that not only would the siblings come to her, someone they’d only briefly met, but that they’d also be willing to seek help from someone they didn’t know.

She called Dr. Thompkins first. She answered, but said she’d be busy today unless it was urgent. Babs called Alfred next.

“Miss Gordon, how are you this fine morning?”

She smiled. “I’m doing alright, Alfred. How are you doing? Everything go alright last night?”

“I am doing well. Master Jason got into a tussle and sprained his wrist, but other than that everyone here is well.”

Babs sighed, relieved that there had been no major injuries on patrol last night. “That’s great, Alfred. I have to admit though that I’m not calling today just to chat.”

Alfred hummed. “What is it that you need, dear?”

“Could you please come by my apartment? And… could you bring a first aid kit? I’m afraid I’ve run out of supplies.” she said, knowing that Alfred would understand that more than the average first aid kit supplies would be needed.

“Oh my. Are you injured?”

“No, but I’ve got a friend over who is.”

“What is their injury?”

“I’m not sure, but they’ve agreed to let you check the injury and provide treatment.”

“I see. I can be over in about an hour.”

She grinned. “Thank you, Alfred. And I would appreciate it if you didn’t let the others know.”

“Of course, Miss Gordon. I’ll see you later.”

Babs sighed as she hung up. She went back to washing the dishes. She had a feeling she knew why the siblings were wary of outside help. While the Meta Protection Act had been signed into effect a few years ago, that didn’t mean that metas were actually safe.

She’d just have to make sure they knew that she would protect them either way.