#there was always the waiting on one another. the witnessing
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hyorijie · 1 day ago
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No Smile | Alastor x Reader
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Tags jealousy, established friendship, a not-so-platonic platonic relationship, Alastor loses patience, gaslighting, disbelief, Alastor being him.
Summary You simply watch as Alastor stops smiling.
N: Happy New Year, very, very, very, late, work has really consumed me. But I really hope the whole community can continue to prosper this year. I still have orders pending and of course I will fulfill them, orders are gladly open. Goodbye ♡
Alastor never stops smiling. His mouth always curves in a fixed and sinister smile, a perpetual gesture that seems sculpted in marble. That expression, as constant as the dawn and as haunting as the darkest night, has become an immutable law of your universe. Alastor's smile does not change, does not waver, does not break.
Until now.
It was a flicker, a brief instant, just long enough for your heart to violently flip in your chest. His smile-that eternal symbol of his twisted joy-crumbled. His lips relaxed, revealing something more disturbing than any macabre smile: vulnerability.
The motive was clear in the way his gaze drifted to you, watching you lean toward another, a hearty laugh escaping your lips. The conversation was innocent, devoid of any intent beyond politeness; yet in those red eyes a corrosive fire was lit. Jealousy coiled around Alastor like invisible snakes, squeezing until it left invisible marks on his soul.
But the real trap was your own disbelief. Seeing him without his smile, you felt the ground beneath your feet vanish. You closed your eyes for a second, searching your mind for a logical explanation, an argument that would dismiss the scene as a passing illusion.
And when you opened them, he had already regained his facade. The smile had returned, sharpened and entrenched with a renewed intensity, as if daring you to doubt what you had witnessed.
But nothing could hide the truth that pulsed in his eyes.
Those red orbs, normally dancing with cruel amusement, were now dark abysses, where fury and unease vied for control. Tension radiated from him like the heat of a fire hidden under the skin, about to consume and consume everything around him.
You realize, with a shudder, that his smile is not the strength it appears to be, but a mask to hide the storm boiling inside him. If that mask were to fall completely, not even hell itself would be refuge enough to escape what Alastor could unleash.
The world stopped.
It wasn't an illusion, it wasn't your imagination playing tricks on you. You saw it with your own eyes. For the first time in what seemed like an unbreakable law of the universe, Alastor's smile faded.
His mouth, always curved in that mocking, unchanging gesture, relaxed. His face, normally sculpted into a grimace of sinister mirth, was stripped of its usual mask. And in its place... a void. An abyss of pure, dangerous emotion.
The air felt thicker, heavy on your lungs, as if hell itself was holding its breath.
You closed your eyes for a second, convinced you were hallucinating. But when you opened them again, there he was, standing in front of you, his grin wide and sharp as a freshly sharpened razor.
As if nothing had happened.
No. No. No. No.
— Wait... No. — You blinked, your mind struggling to process what you had just witnessed. — You, you just... what was that?
Alastor cocked his head to one side, eyes sparkling with a playful glint.
— What was what, my dear? — He replied.
— Your smile. — Your own voice sounded strange in your ears, a murmur laden with disbelief. — It... was... gone.
Alastor's laughter erupted like dry thunder.
— Oh, my dear, are you insinuating that my lovely, charming smile is gone? — He snorted exaggeratedly as He folded one of him hands towards him in a quick gesture — What a naughty imagination of yours!
No. It couldn't be. You hadn't imagined it.
— I'm not crazy, Alastor. — You stared at him, looking for some trace of the crack you had seen in his facade. But there he was, with the same expression as always, mocking, amused, as if the whole conversation were a private joke.
— Of course you're not! Although, if you were, would you really know? — His laughter was light, melodious, but there was something... something in his eyes that didn't fit. A tension, a barely perceptible shadow behind the mask.
— Don't play games with me. — you frowned, and crossing your arms. — I saw it. Even if it was only for a second, I saw it.
Alastor sighed dramatically and put a hand to his chest.
— Oh, what a tragedy! My own friend doubting me, my poor heart is broken! — He blurted, as static flew swiftly through the air.
— Alastor. — You retorted.
His grin widened, fangs peeking out in a sharp glint.
— Yes! — He replied sweetly and effusively.
— Just...tell me. — You demanded quickly.
— Tell you what?
— That I didn't imagine it.
The demon bowed his head slightly, watching you with an almost feline curiosity. Then, with a light step, he approached, bowing just enough to be at your level.
His voice descended to a whisper, almost intimate, but the edge in his tone was impossible to ignore.
— If it were true... if I really lost my smile.... — Him eyes glowed, red as embers under the shadows. — Then what do you think would happen?
The air froze in your lungs.And, for some reason, you knew that was a question you never wanted to answer.
Oh, Fuck.
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novankenn · 1 day ago
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A Different Kind of Bunny-Suit
While back at Beacon Headmaster Ozpin and Professor Goodwitch tried to come to terms with what they had just witnessed. Ruby Rose and her partner Pyrrha Nikos rushed to the side of the young blond man who lay in the dirty clutching at his chest.
"Are you okay?" Pyrrha asked as she reached him first. Rolling him onto his back as Ruby reached them, she gently pried the young man's hands from his chest.
Both of them saw the dent on the thin armor plate on his chest. As Pyrrha helped the young man sit up, Ruby quickly figured out how to free him from the compromised piece of equipment.
"Is that better?" Ruby asked, her voice tinted with genuine concern.
"A bit. Still hurts to take deep breaths." he replied.
"That hit most likely bruised your ribs." Pyrrha commented. "At worse it may have broken some."
"Perfect." he groaned out.
"We need to get you to Beacon. The medical staff should be able to help." Ruby informed the small group.
"We can help him, but what about... that?" Pyrrha asked indicating the statue like Bunny shaped suit of armor.
"Failsafe." the young man called out with a pained gasp.
"Yes, Jaune? How may assist?" came a rather feminine computerized voice from inside the obviously high tech suit.
"Activate follow mode." Jaune croaked out.
"At once." Failsafe replied. "Internal scans indicated the suit has been moderately compromised. Nature of damage indicates potential pilot injury. Are you okay Jaune?"
"I'm hurting, but I'll survive."
"So you're name is Jaune?" Pyrrha asked, as Ruby moved from beside him to examine the armor suit. "My name is Pyrrha Nikos. That's my partner Ruby Rose."
"Hi." Ruby chirped out as she did her best to look inside the obviously advanced technical marvel. "Hey!"
"Unauthorized inspection. Sealing Unit." came the voice of Failsafe as the back panels closed and sealed shut.
"Don't mind Failsafe. She's a little picky." Jaune commented with a pained chuckle. "My name is Jaune Arc."
"Jaune Arc? That name seems familiar." Pyrrha commented.
"Jaune what the hell are you doing here!" came a rather high pitched and indagate voice from behind the trio.
"Hey Weiss." Jaune replied.
Pyrrha yelped as suddenly the heiress of the SDC shoved her out of the way and dropped to her knees beside the seated Jaune.
"Are you okay? What the hell happened? Why are you here?" Weiss asked in rapid succession.
"I had a run in with a deathstalker... a big one, but I'll be fine." Jaune replied to the first two questions. "You attending Beacon too?"
"Yes, I... wait attending too? Jaune?"
"I was volunteered." Jaune chuckled painfully.
Pyrrha and Ruby stood off to the side, near the armored bunny suit. It was obvious there was some history between the Weiss and Jaune. Apparently it was good history. Knowing that more grimm could arrive at any moment, Pyrrha stepped forward and crouched down next to Jaune.
"We should get going, before anything else shows up."
Jaune just nodded, and after a second of delay was assisted to his feet by Weiss and Pyrrha.
[ One / ???? ]
(A/N - As per request. Another installment. Thanks to everyone who liked this little impromptu piece. Like always I have no idea where this will go, but it should be an interesting journey, nonetheless. If I continue I'll make a stand alone link page for easy reference.)
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Quinn is so happy his Auntie Wayne is writing again, because when I cackle reading something and wake him up, he gets reparation treats! This was the first one: “What d’you say, sweetheart? You taking me back?” / “You rolled your eyes at his antics. “Guess I have to. God knows returning you is impossible.”
“While you could see some similarities between the brothers, you took note of one big difference: Russell wasn’t as sarcastic and sharp-tongued. Probably because Russell had always been more concerned with what he should, would, or could share with people in an overthinking loop, while his younger brother seemed obviously free of that burden.” What a great way to describe the difference between the boys!
“Look, you weren’t exactly welcoming during our first meeting,” Russell argued with a bit of bark in his deep voice, although confrontation was probably not the best approach. But why should he always have to take the blame for everything? He’d already done that for more than two decades.” He’s such a good big brother, but damn, he shouldn’t have to keep doing that.
Quinn got a second one (he’s 13ish, but he’s managing to fall asleep in record time) “He’d come along way from the sweet boy you had once teased like a special-forces-trained kindergartner.” for both that and “Aw, aren’t you guys adorable,” you teased. / “Colter wanted to retort something dry-witted, but Russell held up a warning finger. “Ah – wait for it… Trust me. She’s not done.” / “You girls need tissues or a tampon, maybe?” / “Oh, Dory would definitely like her,” Colter repeated his earlier statement with an amused grin.” I cackled!! My kind of woman - and Russell’s, too, obviously.
Quinn got another treat at “This is less becoming a friendly ‘welcome-to-the-neighborhood’ dinner and more starting to look like an orgy to the neighbors. Especially since you’ve put on the robe.” Dude - it was out of the dryer, don’t hate because you’re jealous!
“Wouldn’t do that, baby,” you murmured into his ear with an amused smirk. “That boner’s not gonna go away in five minutes.” Bwahaha!!!
And then, in glorious Wayne fashion, you pull out the emotional sucker punches - broke my heart at “Well, shortly after that, I had a breakdown and I-… I almost hurt her.” He choked on the words, fighting the sting in his eyes… He had convinced himself you’d be better off without him – something he still believed to be true – but he also knew he wasn’t better off without you.” Damn! That whole internal monologue made me want to ply him with whiskey and hugs.
“You know, you’re not crazy like Dad was, Russ. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re crazy in your own way, but I wouldn’t worry about the other stuff.” Ooof!! Would love to know what the “or something” was - that’s going to be an emotionally-charged discussion when they finally have it.
And this also packed a punch:”Granted, the confession stung more than Russell would ever be willing to admit. The tiny, naive part inside of him had constructed a hopeless fantasy of his mother having a sudden change of heart over the last two decades and happily welcoming her firstborn back. Apparently, not a thing had changed, though, and he cursed himself for feeling disheartened.” My poor Russell! I want to kick Mommy Dearest in the teeth.
“I think whatever Dad was involved in – or both of ‘em – was just some activist shit. I don’t think the government cares.” Lie. “We both know he had a mental thing. Paranoid, probably schizophrenic… I mean, Mom used to pump him full of meds sometimes when he got too out of hand.” Truth. He then stole a glance at his little brother and saw the confusion shimmering on his face. Russell scoffed. “You didn’t know that, did you?” Yet another reason not to like Mommy Dearest…
And those last two lines…damn! Damn, this is so damn good, Wayne!!! I love this so much!! (Quinn does too!)
The Exit Strategy – Part 4
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Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there’s one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.
Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader
Warnings: 18+, language, fluff, some angst & feels, family secrets, spy stuff, a bit of spiciness
Word Count: 6.5k
A/N: Welcome back, friends! We're diving a bit into Shaw family secrets this week – fully Wayne's version, though. While I did read the books, there's no major spoilers**, so don't you worry. I just played with an idea here 🤓 I also won't be fully diving into the Shaw family life, but some things are heavily hinted to be... fishy here 👀 Enjoy & let me know what you think! 🤍
**There's a small part where Russell tells Colter about their parents. It's mentioned in the books that their mother was a psychiatrist. I took that and ran with it 🤷‍♀️
Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List
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Part 4: This Is Not an Exit
“You’ve been walking down memory lane a lot tonight,” you teased with a nudge of his ribs, still tightly cuddled in his warm embrace in the freezing basement.
“Haven’t you?”
“No, I have,” you admitted with a melancholic sigh. “Maybe we should stop dwelling on the past so much. Think more about the future…”
Russell scoffed a small chuckle. “Dory said something similar not that long ago. Actually the reason why I came here.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he sighed, his fingers absently drawing circles on your arm. “I think it’s time we retire, sweetheart. I mean, after everything we’ve been through, I think we deserve to, right? You know, sometimes I wake up in the morning, and I’m surprised we’re even still here, considering how many war zones we’ve been in.”
“Well, you know what they say – beware the old soldier because he’s old for a reason,” you said with a smile.
“Yeah, think I might be getting a little too old…” Russell chucked lightly, running a hand through his long hair. “So? What d’you think? One last hurrah, and then we hang this up? I was thinking maybe we could open up a brewery, you know? A family place. Bet the kids would love it.”
“Sounds nice,” you said with a yearning smile. You wanted all of that and more. “I’d love to retire with you.”
“But?”
You laughed slightly at his anticipating look. “But I don’t think you can yet.”
His eyebrows drew together till they met above the bridge of his freckled nose. “What d’you mean? I just told you I’m ready.”
“You say you are, but you aren’t,” you replied like the annoying Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. “Have you solved the murder yet?”
Russell licked his lips, which was his telltale sign that you caught him there. After all, you knew him better than anyone in this world – knowing when he needed to be pushed and shoved was part of it.
“No, but I don’t need to anymore. Look, the only reason I wanted to solve it was because I thought I had to prove my innocence to Colter. And well, turns out I didn’t. He believed me anyways, so…”
“That wasn’t the only reason,” you reminded him with a scrutinizing look.
“Maybe, but like I said – Dory thinks we should keep all this bullshit in the past, and after the last three years, I’m starting to agree with her,” Russell said, dragging a hand over his face.
“Look, if that’s what you want–”
“It’s what I want,” he assured you and placed a hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it. “Having my little brother and sister back is enough. I don’t need more. Nothing good ever comes from being greedy.”
You nodded in understanding, clearing your throat. “Still, in the name of our deal to always be honest, I kinda have to confess something.”
Rising from your seat, you dusted off your awful, flowery skirt and wandered to the wall safe once more, retrieving a thick folder from it. You took your place next to Russell again, his questioning eyes meeting yours as you handed him your research.
“When you didn’t come back after a year or so, I started looking into it as well. Might have done a full deep-dive,” you admitted with a bite of your lip.
Russell shot you a chiding look, shaking his head, but most of all, he was worried. “I told you to leave it alone. You don’t know what sorta people we’re dealing with here, but we do know they’re dangerous.”
“I know. I just wanted to help. Figured I could speed it along. I do have more access than you,” you countered softly. “I’m sorry, okay? But I was careful. I promise.”
“Good,” he said and looked at you, interlacing your fingers with his. “‘Cause the last thing I want is losing you over this bullshit, too.”
Nodding, you squeezed his hand in reassurance. “There’s something you should know, though.” He raised his brow anew – you’d always been full of surprises. Life certainly had never been boring. “Someone accessed the files after me.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. Definitely had a higher clearance than me, though,” you replied.
Russell threw his arms up, and you could see he was getting more upset again. “See? This is what I’m talking about! The whole point of us separating was to keep you and the kids away from it. Otherwise, we could’ve just stayed together, and I could’ve joined Horizon anyways.”
“I know that, too,” you said remorsefully. “But don’t worry. I wasn’t followed, and no one ever came after me. I made sure of it. It’s been two years now. They probably figured it was nothing after I didn’t reach out to you straight away.”
“Still… I don’t want you involved, alright?”
“What about Colter? Doesn’t he want to know? He doesn’t strike me as someone who just lets things go,” you noted observantly.
Russell clicked his tongue – a sign of defeat. “He isn’t, but he’s not gonna find anything either. I mean, the only reason I know is because you were so relentless and kept digging.”
“You haven’t told him what we found out?”
Russell licked his lips and admitted quietly, “No. I don’t think it does anyone any good to keep looking into this.”
Leaning forward and hugging your knees, your head bobbed pensively. “I thought you guys talked about what happened?”
“We did. Kinda… It’s complicated,” he stated, swallowing. “Dory was easy, you know? I guess she never really believed it… But it took a while till Colter even picked up the phone, let alone answered a goddamn text message. Had to get a little annoying.”
You smirked. “Well, you’re good at that. That’s how you won me over.”
“By being persistent?”
“Exactly. Like a tardigrade.” You grinned. “I mean, you kind of are doing it now again, too.”
He chuckled quietly. “Yeah, guess so.”
“Is that why you haven’t told him about me and the kids? Because you’re not sure about him yet?”
“Partially, yeah,” he admitted. “I guess I wanted to protect you. And maybe myself a little, too… Not sure I’m ready for those two worlds to meet yet, you know? I mean, you and the kids are the best things that ever happened to me, and when I look at Colter or Dory, I’m sometimes reminded of the worst things in my life.”
“What about your mother?”
Russell let out an exhaustive sigh that was half amused. “Geez, you haven’t changed a bit. You still ask the most uncomfortable questions possible.”
You laughed a little. “Gathering intelligence in uncomfortable ways is kind of my job, Shaw.”
“Yup, and no one’s better at it than you, sweetheart,” Russell quipped.
“So I’m guessing it’s a no on Mommie Dearest?”
Russell licked his lips, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna see her. Mostly because I don’t even know what to fucking say anymore,” he said. “I don’t want her to meet the kids either.”
“It’s okay,” you assured him and took his hand in yours. “It’s your choice, Russ. We go at your pace, alright?”
“Thank you.” Russell brought your intertwined hands to his lips, kissing the back of your hand before he looked at you deeply, a smile dancing across his plump lips. “I love you.”
You mirrored his smile, your heart fluttering like a wild butterfly in your chest. “I love you, too.”
“I’ll tell them – Dory and Colter. I want this to work,” he promised. “Just… after we finish this. I want him to have a clear head. I prefer not to get him killed, you know?”
“I get it. I thought the same thing when I first met you, too,” you joked, patting his chest. “But you brought him into this. It’s kinda on you.”
Russell scratched his bearded chin. “Yeah, but I didn’t exactly know what I’d bring him into.”
“Didn’t you, though?”
Amused, Russell bobbed his head. “Yeah, maybe I did,” he acknowledged. “You know, when Manny called me–”
Your eyes widened. “Manny called you?”
Russell blinked at you, brow creased in confusion. “Yeah, why?”
“That motherfucker…”
Furiously, you stomped to the desk and grabbed the radio. “Drone-5. This is Queen Bee-1. Report to Hive.”
The static of the radio cracked almost instantly, as if the idiot had been waiting all night for this call. “Yo, Queen Bee-1. How’s my boy?” Manny’s laugh echoed through the basement.
Russell’s glowing cheeks reached his eyes when he heard his friend’s voice. He’d known the guy almost as long as Doug.
“You’re the one who fucking told him?!” you yelled into the radio, almost crushing the device in your hand.
“To be fair, I told him not to engage with tango,” Manny sheepishly replied.
“Ha-ha, funny. Fuck you,” you huffed and tossed Russ the walkie-talkie. He caught it with one hand.
His boyish grin widened as he pushed the button. “You know, Drone-5, you could’ve told me you were actually working this thing.”
“Aw, you know I can’t do that. But I guess congrats on crashing another operation. You’re Worker Bee-3 now. Old habits die hard, huh?” Manny chuckled.
“Yeah, I guess…” Russell replied with a lighthearted chuckle, but his teeth tugged pensively at his lips.
“Great to have you back, brother. Hope this works out for you. See you on the other side, man. Oh, and could you move like three feet to the left and turn the washer off? We can barely hear and see you guys, and Drone-2 just ran out to grab popco–”
“No, absolutely not. Out,” you snapped as you grabbed the radio from Russ. He laughed as you put it furiously back on the desk. You knew what you had signed up for, but you still deserved some privacy. Annoyed, you took off your cross necklace – another bug – and settled down beside him again.
“What did he say when he called you?”
“Nothing much, really. Just told me your coordinates and that you like to pick up your mail at three o’clock at the local post office,” Russell replied.
You shook your head, smiling. “Well, he always loved you, so…” You started to chew on your lower lip, the anxiety in your belly returning. For the sake of your mind and heart, you had to make sure Russell was fully back, and this wasn’t just a fluke. “You know, I worry sometimes that if you don’t face this thing with your family, you’ll always feel this way. I mean, after Lewis was born–”
“I know.” Russell nodded, swallowing thickly. He saw the worry shimmering in your eyes, and it cracked his heart a little. “I know I kinda lost it there. Took me by surprise, too. Trust me. Figured I had dealt with all that shit already, you know? But I guess seeing you with him and feeling all that love myself, I just-… I don’t know. I don’t know how she could do it… Ashton was one thing, but she just stood by. And I don’t even know what the hell she was up to while he took us out into those woods…” He shook his head as if to rattle the answer out of his brain. “And then when we found out you were pregnant again… I mean, I’d barely held it together with Lewis. Everything just became a blur. I couldn’t think straight anymore, and I worried all the time I’d be like them…”
“I tried to help,” you said softly.
“I know you did. Guess this was just something I had to figure out on my own,” he replied with a beat shrug.
“How’s your vision now? Still blurry?”
“Clearer than ever.” A smile flickered alive on his lips, green eyes boring into yours as he leaned in and kissed you slowly like he meant every word. Blowing a raspberry, he then turned his attention to the file in his lap. “So, what am I gonna find in there?”
“Honestly, nothing we haven’t already puzzled together,” you replied, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “But I found a couple of names associated with your parents. Thought maybe you could look at them and see if you recognize the person you saw in the woods.”
“I already know where this is going…”
“Russ, please, just–”
Russell interrupted you, placing a soothing palm on your thigh that curbed your enthusiasm. “I’ll think about it, alright?”
Satisfied, you raised two placating hands. “All I was asking…”
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“How was the lasagna?”
After four hours in the basement, you and Russell quietly treaded up the stairs a few minutes after midnight, finding Colter in the kitchen, eating leftovers out of the ceramic form in the warm glow of the stove light. Tom, on the other hand, had passed out on the couch, only the blue flickers of the TV and the soft noises of a peaceful nature documentary filling the silence of the dark living room.
“Excellent,” Colter stated, swallowing down a mouthful of lasagna before speaking. “I told Tom he should be a chef in a restaurant or something.”
Russell’s brow knitted in doubt. “Really? Lemme try.”
“You just ate two entire bags of junk. You can’t still be hungry,” you argued with a giggle, shaking your head.
“It’s lasagna,” Russell said simply, grabbed a fork from the drawer, and dove right in.
That man would eat anything. You’d seen him do it, too. He didn’t even go hungry when he was lost in a desert.
“Wow, that is good,” Russell announced his judgement with a full mouth. “Maybe we should hire Tom for the brewery, huh?”
“I’m guessing this means you two talked?” Colter asked with a carefully arched brow.
“Hmm. I don’t know,” Russell mused in jest. “What d’you say, sweetheart? You taking me back?”
You rolled your eyes at his antics. “Guess I have to. God knows returning you is impossible.”
Russell laughed and slung an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. He kissed your temple.
But then you noticed Colter’s smile falter, his brows creasing in question. “Is your hair different?”
“Shit!”
Wide-eyed, you bolted back down the creaking stairs to the basement, hearing Russell’s laughter fill the kitchen.
“Was she wearing a wig? And her eyes too, right?” Puzzled, Colter tried to piece it all together. He had already figured by your extensive vocabulary of swear words that you might be a better match for his older brother than he had initially surmised.
“Yup, all fake, man,” Russell confirmed and smirked. “Still think she’s not my type yet?”
“No, I can see it now,” Colter admitted, chuckling. “So, you guys are good?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Russell nodded and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, swallowing.
Colter’s smile widened, filling the older Shaw’s stomach with more guilt. “That’s great. Happy for you, man. Guess that means you’re retiring now, huh?”
Russell scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, we’ll see. Always depends on what the wife decides, you know?”
Yup, he sprinkled that important bit of information into a joke. Then, he watched his little brother take a stumped step back, brow furrowing and unfurrowing and then furrowing again.
“Wha-, wife?”
Russell produced a popping sound with his lips like the noise of a bottle when the cork was pulled. Welp, this bottle was surely open now.
“Yup, got married in Thailand in 2011,” he added another helpful tidbit of information, but Colter’s jaw dislodged all the same.
“Alright, got this all figured out,” you said, sauntering back into the kitchen with a pastel pink towel wrapped around your head and a matching bathrobe. You’d just grabbed them from the dryer, the fluffy material still cozily warm. It was the best option, considering you didn’t want to mess around with your wig as well after popping the lenses back in had already cost you most of your patience. In your little bubble of bliss, you hadn’t instantly noticed the brothers staring at you. But once you did, your brows morphed into a frown. “What’s going on?”
“You two are married?” Colter asked, a pointed finger flicking from Russell to you.
You threw your arms up, looking at your husband. “I was gone for five minutes! What happened to telling him after the operation?”
Russell offered you a sheepish shrug. “Well, this old soldier’s getting weak too, apparently.”
“He said it like a joke…” Colter mumbled, still in the middle of processing this new revelation. His older, estranged-but-now-less-strange brother had a wife. A family. Friends. And he knew none of it. What else was there? Kids?
“Yeah, he does that...” You shot your husband a scolding sideways look. “Should I leave you two alone for this?” you then offered, hoping the answer was a goddamn yes.
“Why would you? You’re family, right?” Colter retorted with a dry smile and a sharp look.
You pursed your lips. While you could see some similarities between the brothers, you took note of one big difference: Russell wasn’t as sarcastic and sharp-tongued. Probably because Russell had always been more concerned with what he should, would, or could share with people in an overthinking loop, while his younger brother seemed obviously free of that burden.
“Don’t take it out on her,” Russell stepped in gently, which really was a warning. “She didn’t know about any of this. Kinda pushed her into it.”
“Seems to be your style,” Colter scoffed.
“Can’t work for the CIA without going through a baptism of fire, little brother,” Russell said simply, giving an unapologetic shrug of his shoulders.
“Why would you not tell me?” Colter stared at him, his look a mix of reproach and agitation.
“Look, you weren’t exactly welcoming during our first meeting,” Russell argued with a bit of bark in his deep voice, although confrontation was probably not the best approach. But why should he always have to take the blame for everything? He’d already done that for more than two decades.
“That was months ago,” Colter countered, scowling. “I’d like to think I’ve come around since then… Coulda told me after we saved Doug.”
Russell let out a small sigh of defeat, rolling his eyes back slightly. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “No, yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, man, alright?” he apologized earnestly.
With a questioning brow, you carefully nudged your husband’s arm. “What happened to Doug? Is he alright?”
“Yeah, uh, he went to work for Horizon with me. I’ll tell you later, okay?” Russell replied, his voice a lot quieter as if sharing a secret, and if Horizon was involved he probably was.
“Is Tracy okay?”
“She’s fine. Little shook up. You should probably give her a call. Smooth things out,” Russell told you.
Tracy thought you worked in marketing at some company for the government. Whenever you, Russell, and Doug were stuck on a mission, the boys made you call her to “smooth things out” – aka reassuring her everything was certainly fine with her husband and he wasn't in any danger at all. They’d once made you call her from a Black Hawk. The noise had been fun to explain away – you’d told her you were picking up a client from a helicopter pad.
Colter chewed on the insides of his cheeks. “So she knows Doug, too?”
Russell nodded. “Yeah, me and Doug were mostly Delta, but SAD liked to borrow us from time to time. We ran in her team for quite a while. She was actually the one who recruited me.”
At his little wink your way, you smiled. He’d come along way from the sweet boy you had once teased like a special-forces-trained kindergartner.
“Listen, things were obviously a little complicated between me and her the last few years,” Russell (under)stated. “But I’ve brought you here for a reason, okay? Figured it’s time you meet your sister-in-law.”
Eyes drifting from you to Russell, Colter pursed his lips – a tell he shared with his brother.
“Are you mad? I can’t tell.” Frowning, Russell tilted his head.
“No,” you absentmindedly replied for Colter, who gave you a curious look but steered his attention back to Russell.
“No,” the younger Shaw repeated your assumption. “I mean, not more than I was before, you know?”
Russell’s creases only deepened. “No, I don’t know.”
“He means he’s indifferent about knowing or not knowing we’re married because he’s already pissed about not knowing about my existence in general,” you explained.
“Ah. Your nerd is showing, sweetheart,” Russell teased you with a smile that made your heart melt.
“Dory would like her,” Colter commented like the thought had just popped into his head – something else he didn’t share with his brother.
You’d always wondered about the youngest Shaw of the three. Russell could never tell you much about Dory. His memory had been one of a smart and feisty nine-year-old, not a young woman and physics professor.
Thumbing at you, Russell cocked a brow at his brother. “Is she right, though?”
“Spot on, actually.” Colter’s tongue poked his cheek, his gaze flickering with a hint of astonishment and new-found respect for you. “And I guess I’m not really mad either way. Just… surprising, you know? I should’ve asked. That’s on me.”
Russell seemed more than a little baffled to hear this, considering he had to pause to find an appropriate response. “No, uh, we’re good. I could’ve just told you, anyways.”
“Yeah, no, that’s alright.” Colter swallowed, sending his older brother a smile of forgiveness. “Honestly, I was glad to hear you weren’t alone all this time, so…”
Russell’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he pushed down the lump in his throat. With a nod, he averted his green eyes to the kitchen floor. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”
“Aw, aren’t you guys adorable,” you teased.
Colter wanted to retort something dry-witted, but Russell held up a warning finger. “Ah – wait for it… Trust me. She’s not done.”
“You girls need tissues or a tampon, maybe?”
“Oh, Dory would definitely like her,” Colter repeated his earlier statement with an amused grin.
Russell, on the other hand, shot you a pointed look, but that had barely ever stopped you before. “Okay, you can lay down. You don’t have to give him the initiation. No hazing my little brother,” he ordered you sternly, and you stifled a snort. “And no one better kidnaps him tonight and puts a bag over his head, alright? I don’t wanna pick him up beaten and bloody from some warehouse tomorrow morning.”
“Hm, what?” Colter’s brow furrowed. For the first time, you could see slight panic spread in his pupils.
Who was hazing who now?
You rolled your eyes in feigned annoyance. “Fine, we’ll leave him alone,” you acted your capitulation.
The younger Shaw blinked at you. “Thank you?”
“Should we at least tell him about the other thing while we’re at it?” you asked Russell with a suggestive look.
Thoughtfully, he paused for a beat, then clicked his tongue. “No, I got it from here. It’s getting late. We’ve been here long enough,” he decided. “This is less becoming a friendly ‘welcome-to -the-neighborhood’ dinner and more starting to look like an orgy to the neighbors. Especially since you’ve put on the robe.”
“It just came from the dryer. Look, it’s so soft and warm,” you argued, pouting, your palms caressing the fluffy material on your arms.
“Uh-huh.”
The little bob of his Adam’s apple made you grin slyly. The way his jaw ticked and his pupils widened with a primal hunger, you could tell he wanted to tear that robe right off of you. The thought caused a shudder to run down your spine.
“What, uh, other thing do you have to tell me?” Colter asked and smiled expectantly, tapping his fingers on the the counter.
Russell, however, grabbed his arm and dragged his curious little brother toward the exit. “I’ll tell you in the car,” he said and thumbed to the front door behind his shoulder. “Wait outside. Gimme five minutes, alright?”
Wordlessly, Colter nodded without argument, gave you a quick goodbye-wave of his hand, and strolled leisurely back to his car as if he knew exactly what his older brother intended to do.
As expected, Russell impatiently conquered your lips, roughly pressing you against the foyer’s wall, your arms draping around his neck.
“What’s the bedroom situation in this place?” he asked between kisses.
“First floor, west side, third window from the right. I’ll leave it unlatched,” you replied, smiling against his lips. “Tom’s always sleeping on the couch. Part of our cover is going to marriage counseling with Pastor Jeff, which happens to work out great for us.”
You exhaled a shuddered breath when one of his hands wandered past the robe and splayed warm against your ribcage, just underneath your breast. His thumb fought an itch to get closer.
“Wouldn’t do that, baby,” you murmured into his ear with an amused smirk. “That boner’s not gonna go away in five minutes.”
“Mmm, I know,” he groaned and dropped his head between your boobs, lips pressing a chaste kiss to your collarbone. If he continued on with this, your arousal would surely streak down your bare thighs soon. Luckily, he had mercy on the both of you. “I’ll talk to him and then come back, okay?”
You nodded with a smile. He kissed your lips, then your forehead, and then disappeared through the door with the same cometary velocity he had entered your vision.
And all you could do was hope you’d see him one more time in your life.
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“So?”
4.3 seconds after Colter killed the engine of his pickup in a spot a block away to the west side of your house – as per Russell’s very specific instruction – he stared scrutinizingly at his older brother.
Impatience was also a family trait – one even their father had despised.
“Look, uhm, there’s no easy way to break the news…”
“Is this about you having two kids?”
When Russell’s eyes met Colter’s, he didn’t recognize any anger, hurt or resentment in them – just pure slyness. At least that was good news. His little brother was just going to be annoying about this whole thing.
“Yeah, remember those five minutes you left me alone in the car? I called Bobby. Had him check some things out for me. Wasn’t easy to find. I’ll give you that…”
As expected, Colter was going to be a smartass about it. He figured it out on his own. He won the game.
“Hmm.” Russell pursed his lips, nodding. “You do know the CIA is on your guy’s ass now, right? Shouldn’t have done it in their perimeter, man. Manny’s probably all over this by now…”
Then his brow knit as if the thought of his old friend had provoked an idea, his head tilting with narrowed eyes at the air vents on the dashboard. How long had that car been parked outside and out of sight again?
Like a game of Operation, Russell then used thumb and pointer finger as his tweezers to retrieve a tiny bug – the spy kind.
“Gotcha,” Russell muttered, smirking. He then held the bug close to the speakers of the radio before turning up the volume to its highest setting – only for a second. He switched the radio off, rolled down the window, and threw the unwanted listening device onto the pavement. “That should teach ‘em a lesson…”
Colter cocked an incredulous brow at his brother. “They bugged my car?”
“Oh, trust me, they bug anything they can get their greedy little hands on,” Russell retorted. “Would probably check for a tracker underneath, too.”
“Great, thanks,” Colter huffed wryly.
“Hey, you wanted in. That’s what they do,” Russell reminded him, shrugging, but there was a smile of amusement on his lips.
Colter only bobbed his head. “So, you and her? You guys are good now? Just like that? Seemed… easy. Sorta…”
Russell chuckled lightly, brushing a hand through his beard. He knew his relationship with you was unconventional, but it had always worked for you and him.
“Me and Y/N have a deal, you know? It’s not all black and white. I mean, we became aware a long time ago that the two of us operate in a lot of gray zones. But, uh, we always know we can rely on each other, you know? Doesn’t matter if we’ve been separated by time or space,” Russell explained to the best of his abilities.
“So what happened?” Colter prompted with the same amount of confusion. “Why did you guys split up? I saw on the birth certificate your daughter was only two years old. I mean, did you-… did you even know?”
Russell inhaled deeply, nodding. “I knew she was pregnant. When she told me back then, I-…” He paused, licking his lips. It wasn’t something he had ever talked about with anyone before – not even you. “Well, shortly after that, I had a breakdown and I-… I almost hurt her.” He choked on the words, fighting the sting in his eyes.
He’d tried so hard to forget, wasn’t even sure he had ever really apologized for it to you because he so badly didn’t want it to exist that he’d tried to wish it out of literal existence, and hence, never really blamed you for leaving like you did. He understood. In fact, he had even wished you’d leave. He had convinced himself you’d be better off without him – something he still believed to be true – but he also knew he wasn’t better off without you.
He’d been lost and alone. And maybe, he was being selfish by crashing back into your life now. Or Dory’s. And Colter’s.
“I mean, nothing ever really bad happened. It’s just-… That night I came scarily close,” Russell confessed, swallowing thickly. He still hated himself for that night and everything that followed. “It’s like a switch flipped, you know? I couldn’t do anything against it… And Lewis saw parts of it, and I was already impatient with him and short with her the weeks before, so I just left that night and disappeared for two months. Volunteered for some mission. Figured it was best for everybody.”
It’s better off if he never comes back…
Russell licked his chapped lips. The next part was the hardest.
“When I got back, she told me she got a job offer in another country, and that she would be taking it and taking Lewis with her. She wanted me to use the time to… I don’t know… solve this, I guess.” He let out a humorless scoff at the painful memory.
Russell hadn’t seen it at first, maybe because he hadn’t wanted to, his anger and pain blurring the truth. After his son had been born, Russell knew you could see him struggling, so you started digging deeper into his family and what really happened. And when you’d found something – Horizon – you’d told him you could infiltrate. Naturally, Russell had passed a hard no – it had been a five-hour long fight, but he'd emerged victoriously by the end. So, you’d told him he should do it, but he didn’t want to leave you, and he didn’t want to endanger and jeopardize his family.
He’d told he was fine, but he wasn’t. It kept gnawing on him – and gnawing and gnawing and gnawing… till you eventually pulled the plug and ended his suffering.
“I was exhausted, so I told her we’d talk about it in the morning. When I woke up, they were gone. Didn’t even notice she’d already packed.”
Colter was silent for a beat. “Was it PTSD or something?”
“Or somethin’,” replied Russell.
“But you’re good now?” Colter checked with a warily raised brow.
“Guess so…”
Truthfully, Russell didn’t know if he was or wasn’t. He’d tried hard to figure out what it was exactly that had set him off that night and fix it, but he didn’t know if that feeling would ever disappear for good. He just knew he had never felt that way again since then. But could he guarantee it would never come back?
He didn’t know.
“Look, all I know is, seeing you and Dory again helped, so…” Russell twitched his shoulders and sighed. He didn’t know what else to say, how to explain it better, but Colter seemed to understand anyway, reading between the lines.
Russell worried he’d be like their father.
“I think I get it.” The younger Shaw nodded and licked his lips. “You know, you’re not crazy like Dad was, Russ. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re crazy in your own way, but I wouldn’t worry about the other stuff.”
“Well, thanks,” Russell said, not convinced but appreciative of the vote of confidence. “Makes at least one of us…”
“I-, uh, I noticed their names,” Colter then said and clarified, “Lewis and Amelia. Like explorers. Like us.”
“Ah.” Russell smacked his lips and brushed it off, “Wasn’t really my idea. I told Y/N that story once. Guess she took a liking to it..”
“Are you, you know, gonna tell Mom?”
Russell was almost surprised by the question. The brothers had barely talked about their mother since they’d reconnected. Considering Colter had never brought her up again after their first meeting, Russell figured there was a reason for that – and he thought he probably knew the reason, too.
Russell scoffed a chuckle and looked at his little brother with an almost incredulous look. “I think you can guess the answer to that one,” he replied and figured it said enough. “Did you tell her I came back?”
Colter pursed his lips, and Russell took it as a sign of admission. So his mother knew. Great…
“Sorta,” Colter admitted hesitantly.
“What d’she say?” Russell almost smiled out of amusement. He already knew the answer, but his brother still seemed reluctant. “C’mon, you can tell me. I’m not gonna be butthurt after twenty years…”
“She told me to ignore you,” Colter finally confessed, but the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. They had ever since his mother said them, but even more so now that he knew his brother – and parts of the truth.
“Hmm,” Russell hummed with tight lips and ground his jaw.
Granted, the confession stung more than Russell would ever be willing to admit. The tiny, naive part inside of him had constructed a hopeless fantasy of his mother having a sudden change of heart over the last two decades and happily welcoming her firstborn back. Apparently, not a thing had changed, though, and he cursed himself for feeling disheartened.
“But I actually haven’t talked to her in a while now,” Colter added with a small shrug, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Huh, really?”
“Yeah, uh, and when I did, I didn’t exactly tell her I didn’t take her advice, you know? So…”
“Why not?” Russell’s brow furrowed a little more as he analyzed each word, simultaneously realizing why he had been so reluctant to share his life with Colter before – his subconscious had been afraid his alienated little brother would report back to the mothership.
Colter’s lips pursed. “Because I disagree.”
“Ah.”
Colter chewed on his lower lip. “Look, I know you and Dory wanna keep all of this in the past and play family – and trust me, I want that too,” he assured, but his heart was beating fast in his chest. “But I need to know, man. I need to know why she lied about this for twenty years and, you know, did all of this,” he insisted, and yet, Russell could tell he wasn’t done. He might have broken the dam. “She did it to you. I mean, aren’t you mad?”
“Of course I’m mad,” the older Shaw admitted, but there was no fire behind his words.
“Then why are you so calm?”
Amused, Russell chuckled, shrugging. “Probably ‘cause I’ve been dealing with this a lot longer than you, little brother.”
“So, what are we gonna do now?”
“We ain’t gonna do anything,” Russell clarified, his voice stern. He’d die to protect his family, you and the kids, and do anything in his power to keep you out of it, but Colter was a grown-up – a free agent. If he didn’t want to listen, Russell couldn’t force him. “Look, you wanna find out, you go find out. And if you do find something and need help, you call. But I can’t be involved in this,” he explained, his firm expression morphing into something more vulnerable and sincere. “And frankly, I don’t care that much. You, me, Dory, Y/N, the kids – that’s all that matters, trust me. You’re not gonna feel better or more… whole after finding those answers.”
“How do you know? Do you know what really happened?” Colter instantly asked, and Russell knew in that moment, it’d be hopeless. His brother wouldn’t stop till he found it – forever restless.
“No, I told you. I don’t,” Russell repeated, and while he didn’t know everything, he omitted that he knew something.
“What about Y/N?”
Russell froze at the bare mention of your name, his protective instincts kicking in. “Leave her out of this,” he all but snarled.
But Colter didn’t think about stopping. “Did you ever ask her? I mean, she’s CIA. She could probably find out something, right?”
“Yeah, I asked her once, alright? Was a long time ago,” Russell admitted, sighing. The intended lie would stick better if there was some truth to it – you had taught him that.
“C’mon, Russ… And?” Colter impatiently threw his arms up, brow raising higher and higher as he waited for an answer.
“She never found anything,” Russell said with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.
This time, it wasn’t just an omission. It was a blatant lie.
“I think whatever Dad was involved in – or both of ‘em – was just some activist shit. I don’t think the government cares.” Lie. “We both know he had a mental thing. Paranoid, probably schizophrenic… I mean, Mom used to pump him full of meds sometimes when he got too out of hand.” Truth. He then stole a glance at his little brother and saw the confusion shimmering on his face. Russell scoffed. “You didn’t know that, did you?”
Quietly, Colter shook his head.
“Well, you were a kid,” Russell said and hoped it would curb the blow slightly, although he knew better than that. “He always took something as far back as I can remember. She used to prepare his pills every evening after you and Dory went to bed. But when we moved to the cabin, he started refusing to take them. Said they made him ‘not clear-headed enough.’ Kinda ironic,” he shared and snorted. “When it got too bad, though, she’d still crush ‘em into his food.”
Colter took everything in with a nod but didn’t say anything more.
“You good over there?” Russell checked after a full minute had passed.
“Yeah,” Colter said and even tried to form a reassuring smile before the attempt failed. Instead, he swallowed. “Just a lot, you know? I didn’t know. I mean, I had some idea, but not-… not that.”
“Yeah, I figured,” Russell said, his voice almost a whisper in the silence of the night. “Like I said, you were a kid…”
When Russell finally left the car to sneak back to you, his shoulders felt a little lighter and his heart a little calmer. He might just float through that unlatched window tonight.
The bad news was, though, he might not be able to retire just yet.
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Part 5: This Is a Start – FEBRUARY 7
Honestly, I should've called this chapter "Heart-to-Heart Part II" 😂 I'll see you for the finale next week, but as you know, it's not the end for them – only just the beginning 😉
☕️ Ko-Fi 🩵 Tag List
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TAGS:
Forevers: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey
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@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28
@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444
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Series: @deansimpalababy @koalamama @inknopewetrust @never-here1992
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mr-mcduckface · 16 hours ago
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I love that the movie Anora was about marriage, but not in the way that you'd think. The technically legal marriage between Vanya and Anora was a sham, but there was another unofficial marriage between two people that was far less recognized by characters- but far more genuine. In a movie comically marred by miscommunication, the relationship between Igor and Anora was the only one in which any true communication was addressed or held. It was the only relationship between any two characters in the movie that harbored either true vulnerability or compassion. And it was the only relationship between two characters who'd actually seen and empathized with one another. Marriage is a commitment between two people to see and stay with the other party- to have another person stay to witness your life. Anora was ready to be witnessed by another human being, and Igor was the only person in the whole movie who ever saw her.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 month ago
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The Odyssey would have been a lot shorter if Odysseus gave the Cyclops weed instead of wine.
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lifemod17 · 3 months ago
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I didn't get to post this earlier but here it is now
11/02/24
I finally got to see a sunset after a long while and it was a gorgeous shade of dusty rose 🥹
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the-halfling-prince · 21 days ago
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What I imagined happened off camera during the filming of The Pact (1999)
Director: Hey can you play a guy that doesn't have homoerotic subtext with the other main character for once?
Rider Strong: Uhhh yeah I guess. Weird thing to say, like... I'm just reading the script.
Director: Cool, awesome. We'll even throw some slurs into the script, so the audience knows your character is homophobic and definitely not gay
Rider Strong: right of course that always works.
#I think Greg and Dalton definitely made out at some point but that's neither here nor there#I think the director probably looked at like a mega angsty bmw episode and said “hey can you play the entire movie like this”#The first scene we see him in a goddamn leather jacket. Parody.#Wait i...#The director watched Chick Like Me and missed the point so hard.#I think Greg and Dalton should have kissed and my feelings on that is first of all how do you know they didn't you know? It was long trek t#Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh Dalton getting shot and Greg having to save him from drowning#The pact 1999#If you like mediocre movies. Watch the Pact. I actually liked it and will be watching it again#However the only place to watch it is in 9 parts on YouTube. It doesn't take you out of the experience tho#This is my fight club#Idk if that's a bad example I have no idea what fight club it about#Fellas is it gay to save a guy from drowning and then have that guy beat up some guys for messing with you and then form a pact to always#look out for eachother while the guy is looking for the guy you used to be before you went into witness protection and then when he finally#figured out it's you he was looking for he tries to shoot you and when he can't bring himself to do it and the guy he was working for point#The gun at you he sheilds you with his body and gets shot in the shoulder and you have to save him from drowning again and when he's#about to leave at the end of the movie you ask if you can still be friends and he says 'yeah dude we have a pact remember?'#Answer: apparently not if he won't stop calling your roommate a fag#Bro literally had to be like 'dalton bestie can you stop calling my roommate a fag??'#my posts#Why is there no fanfic for this fucking movie. Do I have to do everything myself around here?#One of my favorite letterboxed reviews for this movie was 'This movie have everything. Rider Strong saying fag'' (etc etc but that was the#part I thought was funniest. They gave it 5 stars)#Another one of my fave reviews was ''i feel like I just got hatecrimed by Shawn Hunter'' which. Hilarious
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steddieprompts · 1 month ago
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Another cutesy little steddie thing. all fluff. Post vecna. 1648 words.
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It’s not that Eddie was a wuss…
Ok maybe he was, but still this was a terrifying prospect… asking Steve Harrington out.
It didn’t help that he was getting advice from a 15 year old.
“Do you think he likes you back?”  Dustin asked, tapping a pencil against his chin.
“I don’t know, Henderson,” Eddie ran his hands over his face.  What was he doing?  “You’re supposed to be helping me figure that out.”
Dustin tapped his chin again and looked at the ceiling.
In all honesty, Eddie would usually talk to Jeff about this stuff, but he had to be visiting his family in Ohio because of stupid Thanksgiving.
“Well, you guys hang out a lot, that’s gotta count for something.”  Dustin pointed out.
“You hang out a lot with Sinclair and Wheeler.  You wanna make out with them?”  Dustin pulled a face.  “That’s what I thought.”
“I am happily in a relationship, thanks.”  Dustin pointed out.
He always had a reason to point it out.
“I know, and I would like to be as well, so if we could get back to the discussion at hand…”
“Ok, ok… Well, Steve hasn’t really been dating recently… right?”
“No, he hasn’t.”
“Maybe that means something?”
“I don’t know… He says he just hasn’t met the right person yet…”
“Well… he used ‘person,’ not ‘girl!’  That’s a good sign!”  Dustin pointed his pencil at Eddie.
“Sure, but you’re missing a key point in that statement.”  Eddie sighed.  Dustin squinted at him.  “He’s met me, Dustin.”
Dustin’s eyebrows shot up.  “Fair point.”
Eddie dropped his face into his hands.  Dustin started up again.
“Your idea that Steve might like you is a hypothesis and science dictates that the only way to conclude if a hypothesis is correct is to prove it.  To run experiments.”
Eddie let out a belabored sigh.
“So, test it,” Dustin continued. “Ask Steve out.”
Eddie stared at Dustin, knowing he was right in his own little, nerd way.
“Yeah… Ok, alright, yeah, I’ll do it.”
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The next day was movie night at Steve’s with the whole crew.  The kids, Nancy, and Robin were all in the living room putting out snacks and arguing about where they would sit.  Eddie figured now was as good a time as any.  He crossed over to the kitchen, meandering over to Steve who was waiting for the popcorn in the microwave.
“Hey.”  Eddie offered once he was a few feet away.  Nailed it.
“Hey,”  Steve looked over at him, “how’s physical therapy going?  I’ve been meaning to call you, see if you needed any help.”  Steve responded with a soft smile at Eddie, the kind that made all the nervous energy in him disappear.  The microwave beeped and Steve pulled the popcorn out, hissing when he grabbed the hot part of the bag before dropping it in one of the big plastic bowls he had waiting.
Eddie grabbed another bag out of the box, unfolded it and handed it to Steve.
“Uh, good, good, I guess.  I never really know if I’m doing the exercises right.  The paper instructions are shit.”
Steve laughed at that, “Yeah, I’ve been there.  I could come over some time, help you figure them out?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.  That would be great… actually.”  Eddie swallowed.  “But, uh, before that happens, I, uh, I have to ask you something.”  Eddie stumbled over the words before looking over his shoulder, making sure no one else would be witness to him getting shot down by Steve Harrington, even if he was in a house full of friends.
“Yeah?”  Steve turned toward Eddie, leaned his hip against the counter, the picture of nonchalance.
“Yeah,” Eddie cleared his throat, “Would you, uh, ever consider, maybe… shit. Start over.”  Eddie clamped his jaw in a grimace before starting again.  He couldn’t look at Steve yet.  If he saw any bit of apprehension or negative emotion, he would never actually get the full question out.  “Would you like to go out… on a date… with me?”
Eddie finally looked at Steve instead of the cabinet behind his head.  His initial look gave him nothing.  Steve looked the same, if not a little more still, a little more focused.  But he wasn’t saying anything.  The nervous energy was back with a vengeance and Eddie was starting to feel twitchy the longer Steve stared at him.
And then Lucas walked into the kitchen.
“Is this one ready?”  he asked, pulling the bowl with the popcorn bag in it across the counter.  The microwave behind Steve beeped.  He was still staring at Eddie.  Eddie was still staring at Steve.
“Uh-huh.”  Steve answered.
“Should I get that one out?”  Lucas asked.
“I’ll get it in a second,” Steve said, his eyes now roaming over Eddie’s face.
“I don’t mind.”  Lucas offered.
“Dude.”  Steve’s eyes finally left Eddie and he felt himself deflate a little bit, muscles twinging from where he had been clenching them.  “I’ll get it. Can you give us a minute?”
“Oh! Uh, yeah? Sure?”  Lucas replied, quickly grabbing the bowl and heading back towards the living room.
Steve’s eyes flicked back to Eddie and he felt suddenly compelled to talk.  Like a tidal wave, his insecurities drowned him.
“I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have sprung this on you.  I’m not your type, I know. I—”
“Yes.”
“Don’t even know if…”  Eddie stopped to process what Steve said.  “Yes? Yes, I’m not your type or yes you… you want to…”
“Yes. I’ll go out with you.”
Eddie finally looked at Steve, really took him in instead of concentrating on not collapsing in on himself.  Steve looked almost… shy?  Nervous?  There was the slightest blush on his neck, the smallest, guarded smile.  He, Eddie now noticed, had been white knuckling his own arm ever since Eddie asked.
Interesting.
Eddie relaxed a little.  “Yeah?”
Steve’s smile grew bigger as he nodded. “Yeah.”
Eddie couldn’t help the smile that took over his face.  He did it.  He asked Steve out. And Steve said yes!  What’s more, Steve looked caught off guard in the best way possible.  “Oh, just you wait, Harrington.  I’m gonna wine and dine you like you’ve never been wined and dined before.” Eddie grinned.
“The popcorn’s getting cold! What’s taking you guys so long!”  Dustin yelled from the living room.
Steve turned to the microwave to get the popcorn and Eddie reveled in Steve’s smile.  The way it looked like he was restraining it, the way Steve looked lighter than he had in weeks.
They walked back to the living room together, and Eddie kicked Mike off the couch so he could sit next to Steve. Halfway through the movie, Steve slipped his hand into Eddie’s.  On impulse, he pulled Steve’s hand up to kiss the back of it, before shifting closer and leaning his head on Steve’s shoulder.  When he felt the press of Steve’s head on top of his he thought maybe he was dead.  Maybe the bats had finished him off and he was in heaven.
He would have to thank Dustin for pushing him to ask Steve.  He would never hear the end of it.
When the movie ended and everyone was leaving, Eddie hung around the living room so he would be the last to go.  He refolded the blankets, rewound the tape and put it back in its box, and picked up the popcorn bowls and candy wrappers.  He was in the kitchen throwing things out, thinking maybe he had enough time to run to the bathroom, when Steve reappeared.
“Everyone head out?”  Eddie asked as Steve approached him.
“Mhmm.”  He replied before stepping around the kitchen island and stopping in front of Eddie. “Coast is clear.”
“Oh yeah?” Eddie grinned, stepping closer.
“Mmm,” Steve hummed before leaning in, pressing his lips to Eddie’s.
Eddie had kissed quite a few people before, boys and girls alike, but this kiss with Steve.  It was different.  It filled him up, distracted him from everything else so that when his back hit the counter it almost startled him.
“Sorry.”  Steve hummed, pulling away.
“Don’t be.”  Eddie managed to get out before pulling Steve back in.  He was definitely in heaven.  Except in heaven, he wouldn’t be almost peeing his pants.  Curse that whole bottle of coke.
Eddie pulled back with a soft, ‘shit.’
“You okay?”  Steve asked.
“Yeah, fantastic, great. Except I think I’m about to pee my pants. Don’t go anywhere, Big Boy.”  Eddie said before practically running to the bathroom, Steve’s surprised laughter following him down the hall.
When he got back, Steve was washing the popcorn bowls and pizza plates from earlier in the night, sweater pushed up to his elbows, the locks of hair hanging in his eyes swinging with his movements.  Eddie stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist.
“No one has ever asked me out.”  Steve said after a few seconds.
“What?”  Eddie let go in surprise, moving next to Steve so he could see his face.  “Seriously?”
Steve nodded.
“The way girls talked about you I would have thought they would be lining up.”  Eddie mused.
“No. I’m the guy, you know?  I mean they definitely dropped hints, but none of them asked me.”
Eddie reveled in that for a second.  He was the first person to ask Steve Harrington out.
“So, how does it feel being on the receiving end?”  Eddie asked, nudging Steve.
“So good.”  Steve smiled at him, the sincerity of his words bleeding out of him so much that Eddie had to dart forward and peck him on the cheek.
“Where do you want to go?”  Eddie asked.
“You said you were gonna wine and dine me,” Steve replied, “I trust you.”
Those words sent a bolt of pure reassurance through Eddie.  “Oh, Steve Harrington,” he half sing-songed, half chuckled, “I’m gonna date you so hard.”
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soobnny · 1 month ago
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right side of my neck — jeongin x reader ; established relationship (0.6k words)
your touch hater bf just wants to kiss you
happy holidays !!!!!!!!!!!
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“Innieeeee.”
He’s falling deaf to your whines, one ear and out the other.
“‘M trying to sleep.” You mumble with sleep-riddled voice, trying to push the boy’s face away from yours.
He isn’t quick to give up.
“And ‘m trying to kiss my girlfriend.”
Jeongin’s someone that rarely craves physical intimacy despite having the most beautiful hands and the most perfect lips.
Not that you minded.
You think it’s endearing how he reserves it for you, in the comfort of baggy clothes and the security of his room.
You can’t help but giggle at him. Your touch-hater boyfriend practically begging to keep kissing you. You should relish in this moment a bit longer.
Because apparently he can’t wait until morning, or at least certainly not when he’ll have to be shaken awake in the early hours of dawn for practices and schedules.
His lips stay attached on your skin, open-mouthed kisses pressed on anywhere he can get access to—cheeks, forehead, lips, chin, neck, lips, shoulder, ear, lips.
“Let me kiss you?” Jeongin leaves a trail just before landing back on your lips, hovering. You don’t know what time it is, but you know it’s past midnight when he’s soft and malleable like this, and begging in slurred vocabulary.
“Please?”
This man is going to kill you one day.
“Okay.”
Your one-word response doesn’t even have time to fizzle out into the air when your boyfriend latches his lips onto yours in an almost neediness.
He’s hazy-eyed, limp-tailed in your arms, and he doesn’t continue down to any more than kissing like he usually does. He knows that you’re tired, so he keeps it at just making out.
It goes on longer than you have the breath for it.
Jeongin allows you the liberty of taking in more air, pulling out to look at the messy plump of your lips, and then your eyes.
He thinks, he should really let you sleep soon.
“One more, promise.”
He whispers, attention span not rich enough to say another word before he’s chasing your lips for the last time. And his hands stay gently at your waist, that it makes you feel warmer than you already do.
Then, when he’s sure he’s kissed you enough to suffice missing your lips during practice, he releases you, and breathes out, “Mkay, you can sleep now. Thanks, baby.”
His fingers hold your body in place that you’re still pressed against him, and it’s really such a delight to witness his droopy eyes and his love-drunk smile and the bashful tint of his cheeks. He dips into your hair, a smile ghosting his lips when he gets a trace of the shampoo he uses.
“Hm, goodnight my Innie.” Your head finds his neck like it’s routine, but he can still hear you mumble against his skin.
“Don’t call me that if you don’t want me to kiss you again.” Jeongin makes a complaining noise, always been weak when you put a possessive determiner before his name.
You can only laugh with your exhaustion.
If any of the boys were to walk in his room, you were sure they’d be surprised at the sight they’d be subjected to. The reminder of their youngest pointedly making attempts to avoid their hugs, just to beg for yours—Han Jisung would throw a tantrum.
(“He must really like her,” Minho says after a chance encounter finding you and Jeongin asleep on the couch.
His hair tickles the skin of your neck at how close he is, and there is a fond smile on Minho’s face at the sight.
“Don’t let Sungie see this.” Felix laughs.)
Jeongin falls asleep before you do. Turns out he wasn’t as awake as you thought he was, but your heart tingles at the thought that he’d spent his last remaining moments of consciousness kissing you.
That, instead of resting to get at least a decent amount of sleep before his schedules, he’d chosen to meet your lips.
“Goodnight, Innie.”
(You let him kiss you again, dumb and needy and soft and knowing, the next evening.)
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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months ago
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How they’d react to you not kissing/hugging him before leaving for a mission…
Dick acts as though you told him his ass isn’t that fat in his spandex suit-
He’s insulted.
You always, always remember to kiss his cheek before he leaves. His ‘good luck, be safe and kick ass’ cheek kiss!
It’s your thing as a couple! Do you want to see him cry because he fucking will! He’ll do it!
Dick will pout, huff and whine loud as possible in hopes that you’d realise your error and rectify it tenfold. He won’t tell you what’s wrong. No, he wants and expects you to figure it out for yourself, which doesn’t get him anywhere when you’re looking at him confused and lost as to what he was whining about; Literally.
His mood will be down for the entirety of the day and you’ll no doubt have texts from his teammates and family members asking what was wrong with Dick to look so down.
You’re just as confused as them seeing as how Dick didn’t disclose his innermost thoughts and feelings to you despite being his partner, so you were at a loss on how to help them with something even you weren’t privy to knowing…it’s probably one of your biggest issues as a couple but that’s for another time.
Dick will do that pathetic thing where he looks back at you expectantly the closer he gets towards the door, even going so far as to walk extremely slow when he was within reaching distance of the door handle as to buy you enough time to notice before he genuinely had to leave.
When you don’t however, Dick acts like a kicked puppy for the rest of the day and will proceed to exaggerate to anyone with ears about how his lover was restricting him of his affection.
On the other hand, If you do manage to remember to give him a good luck kiss, planting an extra one on his other cheek for extra, extra luck. Dick will have a permanent smile on his face that will not go the fuck away, even when he’s beating someone’s ass, the smile remains glued on his face as though with gorilla glue.
Seeing Dick brutally beat someone’s ass with a smile was horrifying for anyone to witness but it’s okay bc he’s happy that you remembered to kiss him good luck.
Jason will immediately call you out on your bullshit.
And by that I mean cross his arms over his chest and stare at you saying. ‘Well?’
And you’re like: ‘well what?’
And he’s like: ‘where’s my good luck kiss that you owe me? Roy is waiting on me and here I am waiting on my kiss, so give me my kiss chipmunk.’
Jason doesn’t piss about and gets to the meat of the issue at hand. He wants his good luck kisses and he wants them now and he will not leave the apartment until he gets them.
You’d raise a brow at his not so subtle neediness for your affection and decided to tease him. ‘I thought you didn’t need my good luck kisses remember? You’re a big boy who can fight with or without my good luck kisses.’
Jason groans, not expecting you to pull that out. ‘I said that one time. One time and I was being a dick back then too because all you wanted to do was show me that you cared about me and didn’t want me to get hurt.’
You smiled and got up from the couch and walked over to him, resting your hands on his biceps. ‘So now that you admit that you were a dick and the way that you acted was wrong…’ you trailed off as you pressed a kiss to his lips once, twice, three times because you loved to kiss Jason whenever possible and will try to plant as many kisses as you could.
‘Thanks chipmunk.’ Jason murmurs against your lips, feeling everything has gone back to being right again. ‘Now I better be off or Roy will tease me for lingering too long-‘
‘Too late.’ Roy said from the doorway and Jason closed his eyes and silently curse while you smiled and waved at Roy. ‘Hi Roy!’ You said. ‘Hi y/n, mind letting Jason come out to play?’ Roy joked. You played along by making a thoughtful face as Jason mutters under his breath; ‘are you being serious right now?’
You snapped your fingers. ‘As long as you make sure Jason doesn’t get into trouble then yes, he may go out and play.’
‘I hate you both.’ Jason groaned as he walked past you and playfully shoved Roy aside to leave the apartment. Roy then cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted after him. ‘Are you sure you don’t want your goodbye kisses?’ You and Roy laugh together upon hearing Jason cursing him out from a distance.
Damian acts indifferent about it.
He doesn’t need a good luck hug, hell! he doesn’t need luck at all!
He’s skilled enough to win any fight without relying on something silly as Luck. Luck was just probability under a different name and definition. (A/n: Don’t quote me on that.)
So when you forget to give him a hug before a mission, Damian doesn’t think anything of it but it will linger in his mind unnecessarily much to his annoyance.
Why was he so hung up on not getting something a silly as a hug? Or was he instead more upset over the fact that you, his closest friend/partner, completely forgot about it as though it wasn’t anything worth remembering.
Either way he was conflicted and didn’t know how to go about saying any of this to you without getting frustrated over his apparent loss for words. He was a man of action more then anything so when he finally catches up to you, he will stride towards you and stop just a couple of inches and silently stare at you with his resting bitch face.
‘Damian?’ You asked. ‘Are you okay?’
Damian doesn’t say anything because he couldn’t think of anything to say in that moment and instead stays silent as to save himself from further embarrassment.
‘Damian?’ You asked again, getting worried over his unusual silence. ‘I can’t help you if you don’t tell me-‘ before you could finish your sentence, Damian had lunged towards you and brought you into a very tight hug. You smile softly and gladly hugged Damian back, not saying a single word other then;
‘You don’t need me to say it but I’ll reaffirm it anyway, you’ll do great out there Dami. I know you will.’
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cherry-coloureddfunk · 2 months ago
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IMAGINE BEING LOVED BY ME, bfd!joel miller
summary, no matter what you'd always end up in the bed of your boyfriend's father
warnings, p in v, cheating (duh not cool but when joel miller tempts u it is!), daddy kink if you squint, a teensy bit of fingering, fat age gap between joel and reader, keeping up with the canon that joel's son is named jack but hes a dick in this sorry, not proof read
wc, 2k
note, joel miller is the type of fine that physically pains me to think about... i was thinking about making this a series because i love these two so much but we'll see :)
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Joel Miller hated nights.
 He hated how he could never seem to fall asleep no matter how hard he tried. He hated the sliver of moonlight that seeped in through the blinds of his bedroom, almost taunting him with the agonizingly slow routine of the moon when all he wanted was for the sun to make its return. He hated the silence too– though it wasn’t the silence he appreciated during slow mundane mornings; it was the kind that was almost suffocating forcing him to confront every thought he tried burying during the day. 
The blur of all the restless nights he’d spent alone bled into one another as he found your warmth replacing the cool, bare sheets of his king. 
He was fucked up, and he knew that. 
No matter which angle he approached it with, he knew. There wasn't any justification for his actions— not that he ever tried. As someone who gave and gave time after time again you’d think he would be able to cut himself some slack. 
Not when it came to the privilege of a pretty thing like you waiting to sneak in between his sheets– with the moon only as witness after his son would fall asleep. 
“Missed ya.” Is all he says as he nuzzles his face into the dip of your neck. He breathes every ounce of you in, and when he exhales, you giggle softly at the light air that tickles your skin. His hand that had been resting in between your thighs drifts upward to slip under your shirt. His hands grazed your nipple lightly, and he stifled a groan. 
“I have to close the door.” You remind him, though it comes out as a whisper when you feel him start to grope your breasts. 
He shakes his head, “Don’t.” He guides your steps until your back hits his bed. His mouth ghosts over your neck, peppering feather-light kisses on your skin. 
“Joel, what if he hears?” You whisper so quietly you aren’t even sure you’d said it aloud– but you must’ve since he answers. 
“Guess you’ll just hafta be quiet then.” His closed-mouth kisses turn into open-mouthed ones, conscious enough not to leave any visible marks, just saliva in their wake. He places a wet kiss on your Adam's apple, trailing upwards to the underside of your jaw until he gets to your lips. One of his hands moves the hair out of your eyes so you can see him as he places his lips against yours. It’s a silent admission, and he doesn’t have to say anything for you to understand. This is how it’s supposed to be. This. You, here. With me. 
His chapped lips rub against your own;  a sloppy semblance of a dance. Opening up a bit, you let him slot his tongue into your mouth. He tastes of faint mint toothpaste as he spreads the artificial flavor in your mouth. Your hand twines in his curly hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer to yourself. No matter how close he’d get, it would never be enough. You’d always want more. 
He presses himself into you, feeling his hardened length through his boxers. He moves against you slowly, his eyes open, watching every scrunch of your nose, the furrow of your brow, and the ‘O’ shape you make with your mouth. You moan into him. The friction of his movements against your clit causes you to move your face to the side and voice your pleasure. His hand darts to cover your mouth, not giving up his agonizing ruts against your center. 
“Gotta be quiet, babygirl.” He reminds you with a tone that’s in between gentle and stern. You nod, and his hand moves from your mouth, drifting between your bodies. He slips past your panties, using his index finger to drag past your folds and collect your slick. His finger glistens under the moonlight that slips in past the window blinds. He holds it out in front of himself, eyes trained on yours as he brings it to his mouth. He let out a shameless groan against his finger, working his tongue to ensure none had gone to waste, “You have no idea how sweet this pussy is, y’wanna taste, baby?” 
You stare at him with big eyes and without a second thought you nodded, unable to speak even if you wanted to. The corners of his mouth tugged into a crooked smile. He brought the finger that had previously been in his mouth to your lips. The pad of his finger traced your bottom lip, feeling the groves that made up the skin there. You opened up a bit, trying your best to capture his finger in your mouth. Your efforts fell short as he dragged his finger to catch the inside of your bottom lip. He was doing this on purpose. You felt incredibly hot– his heavy breathing on your skin seemed to be the only thing to cool you down. Finally, he leaned in, catching his lips with yours once more. He shoved his tongue in slowly, causing you to moan at the taste of yourself in his mouth. 
“Perfect.” He pulled away whispering against your lips, like it was a secret just between the two of you, the way you melted in his arms made his head rush, “Every inch.”
You sighed, letting your head rest on his neck as you tried to catch your breath, “M’sorry I didn't come yesterday, he stayed up all night playing with his friends but I swear I thought about you every–”
“Don’t you ever be sorry about somethin’ like that. S’not your fault baby.” He stops you by bringing his large hand up from between your bodies to cup the side of your face, it’s almost comical how it almost covers the entire surface, “Just want some attention, hm? My sweet girl always thinkin’ of me.” 
A part of him worried about the nights you never showed up but he would never tell you that. You weren't his and you weren't able to sneak off as much as he wanted you to. The nights you were a no show always left Joel with that nagging voice in the back of his head that probed at him taunting, you didn’t want this anymore. Of course he’d respect your decision if it ever came down to that. He was older than you, lived more than enough of his life, and a wife that up and left as soon as she’d brought their son into this world to show for it. 
You made it easy to forget all of that, and if it were up to him you’d both stay in his bed for as long as you’d have him. 
His lips brushed the top of your head, “You’re here with me now s’all that matters.” 
You lifted your head up to see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he held you tight like this was just some sick dream and he was a perverted old man for lusting over his own son’s girlfriend. But he wasn’t because you were real and you were here and fuck you were perfect.
Joel stood up, his hands finding your ankles and you let out a soft giggle as he pulled you toward him allowing your legs to dangle off the side of his king. He smiled softly standing in between your thighs, allowing his hand to run up and down the inside of them. 
“Joel.” You sigh, reaching out for him always hating any purposeful distance between the both of you. You wanted all of him, “Can you kiss me?”
He caves like he always does for you. Bending down one hand on the inside of your thigh as the other travels up to rest his palm against your face as he leans in for another kiss. He kisses with fervor it’s slow as he takes his time with his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, gently nibbling down on your bottom lip when he pulls away, “Wanna make you cum for me babygirl.”
“Y’gonna let me do that for you?” He asks breathlessly, hand slipping past your pajama shorts and over your panties.  
You nod your eyes wide, the contact causing you to buck into his hand. 
“Needy little thing… S’what you are huh?” He ran his fingers over your wetness and let out a groan at the feeling of your warmth before pulling his hand back entirely, “Tell me what y’want sweet girl.”
“Want you inside me Joel.” You didn’t care how desperate you sounded. When it came to Joel Miller you had zero shame, “Wanna feel you here.” 
His eyes darkened, following the hand that pressed just above your lower stomach. He replaced yours with his own, pressing down gently with a groan. His other hand pulled down your pajama shorts along with your panties down just enough so he could see your core. 
“Fuck.” He mumbled, “S’what my sweet girl wants?’
You nodded at his words, eyes focused on his face alone. You hadn’t even registered that he had pulled his boxers down; the hand that had previously been inside of you along with your juices was now around his cock. He lazily stroked it peering down at you with a crooked smile. 
“Gonna fuck you baby– Gonna– Fuck– Gonna feel me so deep.” He gripped his length as he rested the tip at your entrance, gently running the tip along your opening, collecting the juices there, “S’that what you need? T’feel daddy deep inside you?”
You nodded.
“Tell me.” His tone took on a desperate one, “Tell me you need it baby.” 
“Always need you Daddy– Need it inside me. Wanna feel it deep inside.” You whined at the feeling of him rubbing his tip against your entrance knowing he could easily slip inside if he wanted to. 
Joel pushed himself inside, as moans like sighs of relief sounded from both of your chests. He stilled for a moment enjoying how perfect this moment was. Your chest heaving heavily as you peered at him with glazed eyes. Fucking ethereal. 
He wanted you to feel it– the feeling of being so full in more ways than one. How perfectly he fits inside you– the shape and every ridge of his cock. You were made for it– made for him. 
His hands gripped your thighs lifting them so he’d be able to reach you at a perfect angle and began to pound into you at harsh speed. His thrusts were deep as they shook your pliant body on the bed,  yet again another reminder of the differences between your boyfriend and his father. You’d never really felt loved when you’d have sex with Jack– It was more or less an experience for him than you. He just wanted to empty himself inside of you, never really wanting to make sure you enjoyed yourself. After finding yourself in Joel’s bed one rainy evening, it only made sense that his giving nature bled over into the bedroom. By the time the storm cleared, you knew this wouldn’t be a one time occurrence. 
“He doesn’t deserve you babygirl.” He groaned against your neck, he’d been so lost in the feeling of you around him he wasn’t able to stop himself from leaving marks on your body. He sucked into your skin, kissing and licking the pain away. The sound of his skin smacking against yours as he fucked into you with such vigor made you disregard it completely, “Want everyone to know you n’this sweet pussy belong to me.”
Everything he did always made your head spin. The combination of the sweet words and his musky scent that was just so inherently Joel made you light headed. Him saying you belong to him was just confirming words you felt linger in the air between you when this whole ordeal started. 
“Tell me.” He moaned, trying to delay the steady approach of his orgasm. He didn’t want this to end, “I need it.” He urged you, and you looked down to see him thrusting in and out of you. You moaned at the sight of your hole taking all of him inside of you. Joel caught you by surprise when he leaned down to capture your lips, biting on your bottom lip as he continued to fuck into you with the same harsh pace he’d set previously. 
You hadn’t even noticed that you’d begun to cry until his large hand wiped the tears from your eyes. Your cheeks were red and your eyes were glossy. He loved that he was the one making you feel this way– absolutely wrecked. 
His hand went to your clit, rubbing it as he fucked into you with fervor, “Tell me you’re mine.” 
You were close and he could tell. 
“Please” He begged, the desperation in his voice made you clench around him, “Need to hear you say it sweet girl.” 
You didn’t know what to do. His hand came to wipe the tears from your eyes, fucking you harder, making sure you felt him and every roll of his hips. Your legs wrapped around him in an effort to get him impossibly closer to you than he was already. This new angle allowed him to get even deeper inside of you. Overwhelmed with pleasure, you looked into his eyes though it had been said many times over before for the first time you said, “I’m yours Joel.” 
“And m’yours baby.” He whined into your mouth, “All yours– Fuck– No one elses’ you own me.” 
It seemed like your tears came out tenfold at the statement, the overwhelming sense of pleasure– of love and care. His hips started to stutter but he tried to push through, and you let out a strangled cry as the feeling in your stomach intensified at the realization; 
You owned Joel Miller.
“I own you.” You repeated back in a whine-confirmation, your voice still unsure if you’d even heard him right.
“M’ all yours sweet girl never been anyone else’s.” Joel responded with a moan. It was foreign to the both of you, a sense of vulnerability you’d experienced with anyone before and it’d obviously been far too long since Joel had let someone in the way he let you. 
But he was willing for you. 
“Fuck– Im– m’gonna cum Joel.”
Your orgasm wracked through your body before you could get another word out.  You cried into his shoulder, nails digging harshly into his back as you garbled unintelligible words.
The look on your face was enough to send him over the edge, giving one last thrust he buried himself to the hilt as he peered down to see where your two bodies met. The only thing he was able to make out was the curly hair at the base of his cock as he emptied himself inside of you with a strangled groan. His eyes quickly found yours to communicate you both already knew;
I know, I felt it too. 
After he’d cleaned you up he peppered your face in soft kisses, wrapping his arms around you. He laid there with you, enjoying the feeling of you snuggled warmly against his chest. 
You looked at him like you always did. The aquiline shape of his nose and grey whiskers that made up his facial hair. 
He was beautiful in a way that felt beyond your grasp, as if the very essence of it existed in a language you’d never learn to speak.
Then he softly looked down at your face that rested on his bare chest,  his hand found yours, a quiet plea in his touch.
‘Don’t sleep with him,’ he whispered, his voice steady but filled with something deeper, something unspoken, “Stay– stay with me tonight.” 
After a long pause, you simply nodded.
“Okay."
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readwritealldayallnight · 2 months ago
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reader who is flexible / does yoga x simon who gets really flustered watching it? 👀
During those first few months of living together as flatmates, having gone from strangers who happened to have a friend in common to sharing a bedroom wall within 24 hours, you both learned a lot about each other
On your end, you learned that his presence in the flat was a rarity, gone for days if not weeks at a time before coming home. Even then, he usually was only back for short periods of time, most of it spent sleeping
You do discover that he’s an early riser however, much to your chagrin when the sound of his routine post workout shower wakes you up before the sun has ever risen
You learn that he’s a decent enough cook, but will always insist on helping in some way if he finds you in the kitchen working on something, no matter how simple or complicated the dish is
Over time you even find out how he prefers his tea in the morning and when you get the chance, try and surprise him with a warm drink waiting for him after his shower
When you know that he prefers to keep the flat a little cooler than you usually have it, you’ll turn the thermostat down a degree just before he comes home, just as he’s gotten into the habit of turning it back up for you on his way out, the gesture going unspoken between the two of you
Simon also learns a lot about you in the time since you’ve moved in
He learns all about your taste in music, a melody never not playing in the background of whichever room you’re occupying, often telling him the name of a song or artist you can tell he likes from the way his foot will tap or fingers will drum against his thigh
He discovers you’re a bit of a night owl, often hearing you in the kitchen baking some dessert or another at midnight, or talking on the phone with a friend. He never minds though. In one case he wakes up to sweet treats in the morning, and the other he gets to overhear your even sweeter voice chirping and giggling. And if one time a smile of his own graces his lips when he hears you telling your friend how you’re loving the new flat, and your flatmate “isn’t so bad on the eyes either”, then who’s complaining?
He finds out what your favourite take out food is, often surprising you with something on his return home, definitely not blushing under the mask if it earns him a hug or peck on the cheek as thanks
But one thing Simon learns about you early on, something that he thinks about not just at home but on base, in briefings, on missions, on helis and jets and trucks, is how part of your daily routine, is doing fucking yoga in the living room.
He’s been in countless situations most civilians could never even dream up, let alone withstand, and Simon under the mask that is Ghost always stays as cool and collected as any seasoned vet would
But seeing you in sweatpants, or leggings, or even worse when you’re wearing those shorts of yours, strolling into the living room with your yoga mat tucked under your arm, his pants instantly tighten every single time, knowing what’s to come (or rather who’s to c-)
Following along to your instructional video playing on the telly, paying him no mind as he sits in the adjoining kitchen as you bend into position after position, simply doing your nightly routine as you have for years now, unknowingly putting your flatmate through a torture he’s never endured before
Every time he’s lucky enough to witness you stretching your limbs, contorting your body into poses he couldn’t fathom doing himself, he finds his dreams that night filled with the very same images of you, though wearing far less clothing, and in his bed instead of a yoga mat, though he would take you anywhere let’s be honest
He always waits for you to finish your routine, be it a quick 15 minute stretch or a nearly hour long session, he remains and watches you until you leave, before he dares to stand with his arousal on full display through his pants, rushing to his room or bathroom to take care of business
He learns that he’s never felt more intense pleasure at his own hand than when he thinks of you, when he has has your face and body freshly imprinted on his mind as he finishes, imagining the heaven that it must be to have the real thing rather than his calloused fist
It’s interesting you see
You really like Simon, and you like when he’s home, like getting to know him and spend more time with him
And if you happen to learn that when you do your yoga routine out where he can see you, that he suddenly spends a lot more time in the flat than on base, coming home more and more often, no matter how short his stay is… well, who’s complaining?
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pearlymel · 3 months ago
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Cont. capitano x fem!reader, NSFW, unprotected sex, riding, reader is called 'wife'.
“the mask stays on.”
“whatever for?” but your already silent pleading face did not make him question you any further, if this would please you.. then he was more than willing to obey.
Is this what they call a kink? Capitano thought as a thumb mindlessly brushed over your already exposed hardened nipple, enjoying the way you would squirm in return.
“darling,” he spoke, voice deep as his thumb circles around breast with no intention of teasing you, of course. “would you use me for your pleasure tonight?”
You blink at him, and be tilts his head, awaiting for your answer. His long hair brushing over your body, almost tickling your skin.
Fuck, if he could only chase you down slowly with the mask on—
“ah, y-yeah,” you clear your throat, trying to get yourself together to gently push his back against the headboard, his legs spreading wide for you. His cock jutted proudly from within the tight confinements, fingers barely brushing over his impressive girth, making his breath hitch in response.
You swallow thickly before wrapping your hand around the shaft, raising your hips to attempt to take him all at once. Even when you were already well prepped and dripping for him, taking him in always seemed like a challenge…
His hands trembled slightly as they gripped your hips, helping to guide you to position above him. He always got to handle with care.
Oh and the moment you started sinking down his cock, taking in the head before making your way further down, down—
his head fell back against the headboard, and if it weren't for the mask, you'd see just how much of a panting mess he was being. Nonetheless, he looks equally as hot with the mask on.
The first groan left his lips as your warm cunt stretched around him, and he rolled his hips upwards, burying himself deeper inside you until there was nothing left to take in.
So full.
You couldn't wait before you were already slamming your hips into him, making him startled by the sudden movement of you bouncing up and down, up and down, jaw clenched so tight when he glanced down to witness the way his cock would disappear and reappear from inside you.
His hands slid down to grip your ass, kneading the firm globes as he helped you move above him. You were already in another world, expression too fucked out to comprehend any other feelings.
“my darling wife,” capitano couldn't help but match your movements, thrusting upwards, burying himself as deep inside you as he could go. The head of his cock kissed your cervix everytime you slammed your hips down to the hilt, and he could feel your gummy walls fluttering around him, clenching and releasing in a desperate rhythm that soon made him all fucked out.
“C-cum with me,” you whine, your thrusts growing sloppier with each passing second, nails scraping any place you find untoched on his body before you could cry his name out beautifully when you spasm around him, like you were trying to squeeze the life out of him—
Taking your body in his arms, he thrust upwards one final time as he felt his own release approaching. His balls tightening, his cock throbbing and pulsing within your wet heat.
And there it was, his hips jerked erratically before he spilled inside you.
Capitano could feel his cum flooding, could feel the warmth of it spreading through your body, and could literally feel it leaking out of your sweaty and panting figure.
“… is this what you wanted?” You take the time to ask, and you're only met with heavy breaths and his limp body.
But he nods afterwards.
"next time you could praise me more," oh, he's intrigued.
"maybe sprinkle some degrading words," alright, so you liked it different sometimes. "And then pull my hair a bit," okay, he's a bit concerned but he can do that for you.
"maybe choke me too—"
"... Darling, were you tortured before? I worry for you."
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grimmweepers · 2 months ago
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— ★ 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: when being assigned a joint research project with a very attractive haravatat student proves to be more distracting than you ever anticipated
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: akademiya!student alhaitham x akademiya!student reader, afab!reader, established relationship (early stages), secret relationship, sex in the desert, flirting, playful banter, casual nudity, no preparation, rough fucking, multiple positions, creampie, not proofread. obv they are adults. 2.1k wc MDNI. 18+ ONLY. | masterlist
reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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The heat had already taken hold of you this morning.
Even before you opened your eyes, the desert sun had crept into the makeshift tent, meandered across your skin, and clung to the bedding beneath you. Outside, you could hear the wind humming in a lulling rhythm but the air inside was still heavy—scented faintly of canvas, sand, and Alhaitham.
Officially, this trip was sanctioned by the Akademiya to catalog ruins and decipher inscriptions long buried in the dunes. Your joint project culminated in months of preparation but between your academic pursuits, you and Alhaitham fell into the trap of proximity, lured by the temptation of wandering eyes and coy smiles exchanged over the rim of coffee cups. 
Long nights spent under oil lamps became less about studying and more about the rush it gave you when your knees brushed beneath low tables. It was nearly impossible to concentrate on reading when Alhaitham sat so close that his scent clouded you entirely. 
Wandering eyes turned to coy smiles turned to lingering touches turned to… well. 
Such distractions would be frowned upon by the Akademiya, yes, but how could you resist when Alhaitham treated you like you were the most fascinating discovery he had ever encountered? You both agreed on discretion to save yourself from the mortification of other scholars and seniors. They didn’t need to know about his sweet confession and the many other things you both got up to when nothing but the stars could witness you. 
So unofficially—this trip was the perfect excuse to stay tangled together despite the sweltering heat. 
You blinked against the wedge of sunlight, rolling over to a very bare Alhaitham sprawled beside you, one arm tucked lazily behind his head, the other resting just centimetres from your waist. 
“Morning,” his voice was thick with sleep but when your eyes met, you saw that his expression was immensely not.
“What’s got you so focused?” you said groggily, propping yourself on your elbow as you faced him. “Already thinking about all the hard work waiting for us today?”
Your clothes were still discarded from the night before, sitting in a crumpled heap near the corner of your bedroll. Perhaps the events of last night were why he was looking at you with that slanted smile. 
“Do you always think about work the moment you open your eyes?” he replied, tracing small circles on you. 
“Someone has to keep us on task,” you shot back, raising a brow.
“I didn’t realise I was sharing a tent with a Matra.”
Of the 20 languages he knew, the same mouth rendered him incapable of completing this project in a timely manner—what should have been done two days ago was instead spent with his tongue on your skin. 
Not that you had many complaints.
“Mm,” he added. “And here I thought mornings were for recharging, not nagging.” 
“For someone who implores efficiency in all things,” you said, poking his nose, “You spend a suspicious amount of time lying around. Observing me isn’t going to help your thesis.”
“Observing you is a worthwhile distraction actually,” his hand began to slip onto the bare curve of your hip, “In fact, I think you’re my most compelling subject.”
“I would pay you sacks of mora to include that in your report,” you retorted, clicking your tongue with false annoyance, but you were too focused on something else to actually care.
“I’ll pass,” he tipped his chin at you, “Instead of mora, another thorough exploration should suffice.”
“You’re avoiding work.”
“I prefer to think of it as redefining priorities.”
“Oh? And what’s at the top of that list now, Mr. Alhaitham?” You felt wrapped in warmth but you weren’t sure if it was from the desert or his fingers settling between your thighs.
“Must you know?” He pressed his body against you, “It seems to me you don’t think we can afford to delay.”
Suddenly, the tent felt smaller, and something familiar coiled low in your belly. You let out a soft sigh, shifting closer to him, “Enough.” 
The word felt hollow, even to your own ears.
He not only decided he wanted a repeat of last night (and the night before) but also the right to brag about passing with flying colours even when he was buried inside you during the most crucial part of the research. 
It became a cycle—he apologised for keeping you distracted and you forgave him by moaning his name. 
Never one to be so sexually inclined but now he understood why men sculpted monuments to their obsessions, why poets spilled ink in worship of carnal desires. Lust was not a sin because it was tempted, but because it was consumed. However, the way Alhaitham consumed you was completely intentional. 
You were no different from his books. He spread you open, studied you, and read every inch of you all the same.  
“I personally think we have plenty of time,” he leaned forward, slowly grazing his lips across your neck before kissing your pulse point. “Trust me.”
And trust him you did.
The world outside was quickly forgotten after he turned you on your back. Your words died in your throat as he hovered above you, capturing you in a careful kiss that tasted of salt and skin. 
There was plenty of time in the way his fingers coveted pleasure out of you. 
There was plenty of time in the way he mapped your jaw, your neck, and your collarbone with love bites. Like you were something so desirable to him.
Beads of sweat rolled down your temple as the tip of his cock shallowly pressed your entrance. Your mouth fell open—the friction was maddening, and every inch of you clung to him. Even when his lips ghosted the swell of your chest, he was lucky your skin was there to swallow his quiet grunts each time his hips moved against your tight hole. 
“Patience,” he said when you instinctively arched your back, though his own breathing was uneven. Already, his hair was tousled and damp from the heat of your bodies mingling and you felt his length throbbing on your thigh. He was so hard, you couldn’t help but wonder if the one who actually needed patience was him. 
You couldn’t hold back a giggle. “Speak for yourself,” you said, swiveling your hip upwards. A groan left his lips so quickly you saw a blush spread across his cheeks. “You’re barely holding it together.”
He grumbled in response. “You find joy in others’ misery.”
“Not at all.”
Although, your teasing wasn’t for naught. Alhaitham wasn’t exactly famous for bedding women so seeing you stripped of everything that made you prim and proper left him craving you that much more. “You should take it as a compliment that I—”
“So I’m the problem?” you laughed under him to mask the flutter in your stomach. 
“Precisely.” You were glad he remained obstinate even when he so lewdly towered over you. “You’re in such a hurry this morning. If you want to be reckless, I won’t be blamed for the consequences.”
Then a strategic purse of lips followed suit, “I thought you enjoyed my patience.”
Patience. That damned word again.
Screw patience. Whatever consequence he was referring to was burning away any semblance of patience you might have had left. Thus far, he had taken his time with you but he had only taken his time with you. If he could be more crude, you wanted to see it—feel it. 
“Alhaitham,” his entire name rolled off your tongue. Quick and demanding. Your tone only fueled the fire in his seafoam eyes. “Stop talking.”
The end of your words dissolved into a gasp as he thrust into you, hard and sudden, stretching you with a fervor you hadn’t felt before. 
His muscles flexed while you dragged your nails down his spine, closing your legs around him for even an ounce of stability. The rhythm he set was already so relentless that his hands gripped your thighs, pulling them higher around his waist to drive himself deeper, and the change in angle made all sound catch in your throat.
“Haitham—!” a cry rippled from how hips were snapping against yours with a pace that was anything but patient. He had accepted your unspoken challenge so quickly, that nothing would have prepared you. 
Your head swam.
The wet, sloppy slaps of skin meeting skin filled the tent, blending in with your jagged moans and his lower grunts. No part of his brain wasn’t thinking about how soaked you already were, how you welcomed him so easily before he slipped—no—pushed it in. 
His hair clung to his forehead, every movement felt tight and addictive. When he leaned down, his lips brushed the shell of your ear, “Is this fast enough for you?”
You could only whimper in response, feeling your toes curl as his hoarse voice and your own pleasure consumed you. 
He shifted, pulling you onto your side and hooking your leg over his shoulder. The new position sent another shockwave through you, and your priceless whines filled the small space as he drove into you over and over again.
The heat of the tent seemed endless, but so did the hunger between you. Alhaitham’s pace never truly slowed—each time your whines softened, each time you thought the storm of his touch subsided, he just tossed you into a new position, kindling the fire all over again. 
“I want to hear you,” he growled while his chest was flushed against your back. Reaching to lift your leg so his heavy cock could invade you deeper, you tried to muffle your moans into the bedding. But he grabbed your chin, tilting you to look at him, “Head up.” He half-chuckled, “You were so mouthy before. What happened to that?” 
Before you could answer—or think—he shifted again, this time unsteadily pulling you onto his lap. Your knees dug into the bedding but at that point, holding yourself upright proved difficult. His hands gripped your waist, guiding you to ride him as his mouth leisurely latched onto the peak of your breast. The combination left you shuddering, clinging to his shoulders as his fingers pressed bruises into your hips. 
“Did you know,” he slurred against your skin, “that you’re terrible and incredible?” His praise made your cheeks burn but terrible? Terrible was the way he fucking you so hard you could barely roll your hips. 
“Y-You might want to refresh yourself,” you chewed your bottom lip from yet another hard thrust, “On the meaning of ‘terrible.’” You could feel the remnants of your previous orgasms dripping down on him, “Because that’s you.”
Time blurred. You lost count of the positions, of the way he had you on all fours only to have you back in his arms moments later, of how many times you greedily begged for more. Every touch was electric; if only you could clutch him closer. The noises were shameless and the scent of filthy sex and sweat was nothing shy of erotic. 
When he pinned you beneath him again, you felt him stiffen. Every inch that sunk into you felt more desperate and even the way he called your name sounded huskier. You could have sworn the tent walls were ruffling in sync from his losing control. 
Your lips parted in a silent scream and with a final throb around his cock and a deep drawn-out groan in your ear, he released inside you for the first time. Your body drew out his pleasure as his forehead pressed against your shoulder. His laboured breathing told you everything about the ecstasy he was experiencing, like his body and brain were struggling to stay connected. Finally, he pulled out, trembling and sensitive, and collapsed beside you who was still panting. 
Ultimately you got what you wanted: unfiltered crude sex with your insufferably hot research partner. Your pulse ran wild.
A hazy silence settled, broken only by his stroking your hand to check if you were okay. Part of him wondered if he went a bit too far which you wordlessly answered by rubbing him back. He held you, and like last night (and the night before), you lay glistening and tangled together in the aftermath. 
It was a perfect system, a hopeless, delirious cycle.
“Well,” he said as he returned to tracing circles on you, “I think that concludes this morning’s exploration.”
You rolled your eyes, still dizzy and breathless, “Do you think the Akademiya will accept that as your final thesis?”
His lips quirked into a rare, little grin. “Hard to say. Who knows which of the sages might secretly be perverts?” 
“Alhaitham,” you groaned, swatting weakly at his chest. 
But then his arms tightened around you. And you didn’t mind. You didn’t protest. You believed you might have even loved being clad in nothing, lying in a cramped, too-warm tent that reeked in the musk of what transpired.
There was, as he said, plenty of time to finish the project. And if this was part of the process, you weren’t in any hurry.
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© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform
a/n: idk if i love or hate this but it’s so hot where i am rn and the only thing i can do to distract myself from perishing from the heat is to pretend i’m here!!!
dividers by @/adornedwithlight
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miserycanary · 11 months ago
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BREAK MY HEART INTO TWO ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ next
pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley & fem!reader
synopsis: Ghost has been feeling pissed off lately, and happens to lash out on you
tags: slight angst, misunderstandings, very slight mention of violence
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He knew he was not in the right headspace. With the newly added task of training new recruits, the dead-end mission, and overall exhaustion. Ghost could feel his patience nearing nothing and he could feel it in his bones that he wouldn’t be able to control himself from lashing out soon— even if it was you. 
That’s why he started to distance himself and avoid you like the plague. Only responding with grunts or one-word answers. It’s not the best action but he couldn’t think of anything else. Despite the frustration clouding his mind, he still vows to never hurt you. He promised you that; reassured you that he would never ever raise his voice at you, his hand stroking your back and kissing your temple, after you told him about your past one drunken night. 
The first time Simon came home and didn’t immediately wrap his arm around you, nosing the crook of your neck, you knew something was up. You didn’t push the matter though. Brushing it off as something trivial and proceeding to go your usual routine. You did notice things that you never brought up with him: heavy footsteps, the lack of teasing from him, and uncharacteristically never clinging onto you  
What finally pushed you to visit the base was when Si, your husband who would go through all levels of hell just to be close to you and never lets a night pass without you with him in bed, suddenly tells you he will be sleeping on the couch. It baffled you. This is the same man who wrapped all his limbs around to keep you from leaving after a big fight. The same man that acts like a big baby when you tell him you’re gonna be away on a work event. Suddenly, the idea of him getting bored of you and finding entertainment with another woman intrusively swirled in your mind. 
Were you too loud? Too chatty? Clingy? Maybe you didn’t satisfy him enough. Maybe he wanted a wife available to always cook for him after work. It scared you. You love him; love him enough to change just to keep him.
You needed to talk to him. Whether he likes it or not. 
“Price, please. Just call him for me?” The captain looks at you, hesitating. Even though he was aware of Ghost’s thinning temper and didn’t want to put his comrade’s wife in a position that could result in a fight, he also knew that you needed to solve this. He scratches his beard, nervously looking at you. 
“Sweetheart, I don’t know. The man.. he.. he hasn’t been the best these days? Maybe you should go home and wait for him—“. You cut him off, “he doesn’t want to talk to me! Please, just 5 minutes and I won’t even cause a scene. I promise!” With a sigh, he finally relents and tells you to stay there while he calls for your husband. You crack a smile, nodding and feeling a sense of relief wash over you. 
Moments after being alone, a new recruit (you assume considering you’ve never met this man nor did Simon ever mention him) approaches you with a low wolf whistle. His hands find your waist before you can even comprehend what’s happening, pulling you close to his chest. 
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?” You freeze, and disgust starts to bubble up inside of you. You plant your hand on his chest in an attempt to pull away in fear that Simon would witness this and think differently. Before you could say to leave you alone, a voice booms out. A voice you know too well. 
“Y/N!” Simon takes three strides and he was near enough to pull the recruit away from you and land a punch. Scandalous gasps went around while the yells of other members went inaudible to you. You stood there in horror as Price stepped in, pushing Ghost away and yelling to stand down. This was not your Simon. Your Simon would never be this violent in front of you— he was too scared to frighten you and do something to push you away. These weren’t the same hands carried you as if a delicate flower he plucked as well. The hands that routinely offers to brush your hair every night and washes you every sex session while he kisses your shoulders, showering you with endless praise with a voice filled with adoration.
Ghost whips his head. His cold stare made you falter, taking a step back. Something you never thought you’d do when faced with him. You could see his mask move, undoubtedly hiding his disappointment and furrowed eyebrows. 
“What are you doing here?” He seethes, roughly gripping your arm tight enough to leave a bruise.
“I-I... I wanted to see you—“ Before you could even finish, Ghost groans with frustration. “I fucking told you to not come to the base. Were you even thinking? Use that pea-sized brain of yours once in a while! Just.. leave me alone and go home.”
Silence. The whole base quiets down with his words, a tense atmosphere building up. You freeze. From the corner of your eye, you notice Price’s contort with concern and hesitation if he should meddle. 
The pain you felt was indescribable. It was as if Ghost took your heart and crushed it with his bare hands. Your breathing got labored, your eyes flicked down, taking deep breaths to hold back tears. Before the realization has fully settled, you pull away from Ghost, mumbling something incoherent. In that moment, Ghost knew he fucked up. He hurt his darling flower. He hurt the only person he treasured. The person that stayed with him through thick and thin. The person he married, vowed in front of God to love forever and to never hurt. 
“No, baby— I didn’t mean to—“
You cut him off, telling him you were going back just like he wanted. You didn’t even call it your home. You always do. Saying it with pride to have something to call home with him. 
God, what has he done? 
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: dare I say this man needs a break :} Second part is out. Little detail: I use ‘Simon’ during Y/N’s pov and Ghost for the rest, but used Ghost for her after he yelled at her. :3
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open!
⟢ taglist is open!! Comment if you want to be tagged in the next posts.
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
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myladysapphire · 7 months ago
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To Gwayne, with love
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tired of being ingored and undervalued, you take your dragon and leave to find the one person who sees you for who you really are; your uncle, Gwayne Hightower
based of this request
word count: 5,086
CW: MDI, 18+, smut, loss of virginity, p in v, fingering, oral (f reciving), incest, angts, love letters (if the title wasnt a hint), fluff, love confessions, not proofread!
Gwayne Hightower x neice!reader
Masterlist
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Growing up as the eldest child, and eldest daughter of Alicent and Viserys you had long felt unwanted and overlooked.
Where your twin, Aegon, was seen as a future king, the rightful heir, you were seen as only a daughter, pushed to the side and out of the limelight.
Always looked over, even when it came to marriage. Where it made sense for you to marry Aegon, Heleana married him instead.
You were overlooked, and often forgotten.
Even events held in your honour were overshadowed, be it by your twin or your eldest sister Rhaenrya.
Countless nights tears had filled your eyes as you were pushed aside in favour of another sibling.
It was a funny thing really, you were the eldest daughter and yet were the last to be betrothed, excluding Daeron that was. And yet you had once been dubbed the Realms heart, you had been kind and sweet. But years of neglect, being undervalued and ignored had turned you cold and restless and made you a rebel. Where your uncle Daemon was the rouge prince, you were the defiant princess.
You had stopped waiting by the sidelines, stopped keeping too yourself and your thoughts stopped being quiet. you become outspoken, even more so when your brother was crowned king.
But all that seemed for nought as you were now meet with roll of eyes and the sound of the key locking your chambers from the outside.
You couldn’t say you were surprised, not when your mother seemed to hate you more than Aegon.
She never understood you, only one person had.
Gwayne Hightower, your uncle.
You and he had an understanding that others could only envy, you couldn’t put it into words but ever since you had meet him you felt inexplicitly drawn to him.
And yet you had only meet him thrice.
But those three times amounted into countless letters.
When one was sent two would follow, even on the road Gwayne never failed to write.
Until now.
You were sat in your chambers and an ache in your chest as you read through the last of Gwayne letters. Near two weeks had passed since his last had arrived, and these past two weeks had been when you had needed his letters the most.
dearest niece,
Words cannot describe the joy I felt upon seeing you the other, even if only for a few hours before my departure.
You have grown ever so beautiful, and I envy those who got to watch you became the beauty you are today, though I envy them more for the endless pleasure of your company.
Who knew your wit was even more compelling in person, dear niece?
I sure did not and yet your endless humour is known what I crave as I am stuck of this endless rode with ser Criston as the most interesting of my companions.
And let me tell you he is far duller than you painted. (Not that you painted him to have much of a personality aside form swords and a love for oranges.)
Perhaps it his cockiness or the self-righteousness he has as the new lord hand, which makes his so dull. He seems to love to point out his new station to us all, especially my Hightower knights, as if that will win him any favours.
Though I truly believe he thinks himself funny, though his voice is always far to monotone to decipher what is an attempt at a joke or what is orders and commands.
Gods, I wish I had stolen you away with me, even just to share the looks at Criston ‘jokes’ as he calls them.
Honestly, he is perhaps the dullest man I have ever met, what your mother sees in him I’ll never know.
But I must admit little of my time is spent completing his joke when I cannot stop thinking of you.
Tomorrow, we ride to rook’s rest, he says he has some plan, I do not quite believe it will be a good one, but I shall prey to the seven that we will be victorious, and I may see you again.
Yours, Gwayne.
You had replied far to quickly though being locked n your chamber after yelling you would ride your dragon to meet your uncle would of course leave you with little to do.
To Gwayne,
I am truly sorry you are stuck with such a dreadful man, if I had gone with you I can assure you however there would not have been much time to dwell of Cristons joke attempts, I would steal far to much of your attention, perhaps enough were you were unable to fight in this silly little war.
I do hope your thoughts of me do not distract you too much.
I wish you great luck in at rook’s rest though I fear you may have to face Meleys, and in which case I pray my mother sees sense and allows me to ride out and join the fight on moonfyers, though I Highley doubted.
But from Aegon’s visit to my prison cell (my chamber’s), it seems he is quite egar to fight, though seeing as how the small council so easily sway his mind, I doubt he will, unless he drinks himself into a false sense of courage that is.
But I pray you do not repeat those words, especially to my mother.
I too crave for your presence; it is a misery that despite years of letters we have met thrice! And the third was only days ago.
 Perhaps when you go, we can make your visits permanent.
I pray for your victory uncle, and your next letter.
With love, your dearest niece.
You had sent that letter 12 days ago; rooks rest was 10 days ago.
Of course, the journey back must be accounted for, but no one had any news, besides the death of Meleys and the princess Rhaneys, the queen who never was.
You had rather liked her, in fact you hoped to model yourself of her in some way. Though you had no right to morn you suppose, you had never spoken to her bar the common pleasantries.
You stood starting out of the window, craving the day you could smash them down and make your escape. Though where you would go, you did not know. Before the war you had one destination in mind, oldtown. Now there was no one there for you, just as there wasn’t anyone here.
The forgotten daughter. No matter how defiant you became you would only be tolerated and ignored. Your actions simple receive a tolled eye and of course, the action of yet gain being locked in your chamber.
Perhaps if your mind hadn’t been so caught up in your loathing and thoughts of jumping from your window onto the back of moonfyers you would have noticed the door opening and the feel of hands slowly covering your eyes.
You jumped in shock as your eyes were covered, only to calm down when a voice spoke.
“Guess who?” a mans voice teased, though it was the voice you had ingrained into your memory.
“Gwayne” you breathed turning around.
He laughed as you hugged him.
“When did you get back?” you asked, arms still wrapped around him.
“Only moments ago,” he sighed, “did you miss me?” he teased.
Slapping his arm lightly, you stepped back “of course not”.
“Hmm…really?” he tilted his head, clicking his tongue, “I could have sworn your letter said- “
“Stop it!” you said hitting his shoulder again.
“Fine!” he said raising his hands up in mock surrender, “only if you top hitting my arm, your poor uncle has just fought a battle”.
You rolled your eyes “and am I to presume you were victorious uncle?”
“If you could call it that”.
“What do you mean?”
He looked nervous, an expression you had never seen on him before, “your brother Aegon- “
“Aegon went! That fool”
“a fool who got himself injured”.
“what” you asked, voice full of concern. Though an outcast, overshadowed by your twin, you still cared for him greatly, even if he never showed care for you in return.
He explained what had happened and your mind spun, no one had said a thing to you and yet your twin brother lay dying in his rooms.
“I must go see him” you rushed out, heading towards the door, only for Gwayne to grip your arm.
“Go later.” He insisted, “for now stay with me! and here my woeful tales of battle”.
Shaking your head with a laugh you sit back down, listening to tales of Gwanye’s journey and of the battle, and all thoughts of Aegon were forgotten.
You woke up finding yourself wrapped in Gwayne arms on your settee. You didn’t remember falling asleep, only talking and watching the sunset and rise once more.
It must have been past noon and yet no one had knocked or come to see you, not that they had before now.
You looked over at Gwayne, he was tired, even after hours of sleep he still had bags under his yes.  
Removing yourself from his arms slowly, you made your way out of your rooms and towards your brothers.
Aegon lay alone. The room dark and empty, bar his aching, unconscious body, half his body covered in bandages, his body deadly slit and his breath shaky.
You moved closer to the bed, coming forward and placing a soft kiss on his brow.
He may be terrible, drunken whoremonger but he was still your brother.
“Aegon” you breathed heavily, taking his unburnt hand in yours, “I- “ the doors opened, and your mother barged in, “get out!” she demanded.
“Mother, I- “you said standing up.
“Get out” she said once more, coming to sit by Aegon’s side.
Standing up and moving towards the door slowly, “he’s my brother, I have every right to be here!”
She looked at you, scoffing “that matters not, now leave and go back to your rooms”.
Rolling your eyes you left and stormed back to your rooms.
“Gwayne” you breathed, seeing him now awake and sitting up, reading a book.
“How Is Aegon” he asked, as you approached.
“a sleep? I do not know my mother sent me out only a few moments after I had entered.”
He kissed his teeth, “your mother has changed much recently”.
“Recently? She has always been liked this, with me at least”
“I know, my darling… I think she- “he stopped himself, looking at you, “I am not sure what she thinks actually, me and her where never close growing up”.
You huffed, looking over at him and realising that the book he was reading was in fact your diary.
“Is that my diary!”
“no” he said dragging out the word as he moved the book out of your reach.
“Where did you- how did you”
“Do not worry how your “beautiful and daring uncle” found it”.
You gasped, crawling over him to try and reach your diary.
He laughed, as you grasped at the book, “give it back” you insisted.
“But Gwayne would be never- “
You reached the book, slapping it out of his hand, “how much of it did you read?”
“Why did you not want me to read of how much you missed me?”
“Gwayne” you sighed, looking at him, you were practically lying on him, your hands leaning on chest as you reached for your diary of the floor.
“darling” he replied, before looking at you sadly, his hand reaching to caress your cheek, “I have to go soon”.
“To your chambers or to oldtown?” you asked sadly.
“Oldtown, I – “
You interrupted him, “when?”
“We leave after dinner, we thought it best to travel at night, out of sight of dragons”.
“I see” you said moving off of him. He reached for you, trying to draw you back towards him.
Everyone always leaves or ignored you. It seemed no matter how close you got you were so easily abandoned, never once had someone stayed.
“I would ask you to come, but your mother would never allow it” he said shaking his head.
Why would she allow it? It would make you happy and the gods know how much your mother craved your misery.
“Do you think there will ever be a time when-when we can spend limitless time together?”
“I hope so, I- “he always stopped himself from saying it, saying the one thing they both craved.
“As do I”
The rest of the day was spent together craving to spend every second that they could together, but in the end, he had to leave. He was bound by duty and honour.
Saying goodbye this time was harder than the few times before it. You both stood in the courtyard, his men stood the side, their own conversations distracting them.
Your mother having said her goodbyes, and had left the courtyard already, leaving you both to say your goodbyes.
“I hope it is not to long before I can see you again” you said looking down to thew ground and kicking at the gravel.
“As do I” Gwayne said grabbing your hand and kissing it gently.
Your eyes shared a look, a look saying everything you both couldn’t.
“I’ll miss you” you breathed heavily, eyes never leaving his.
you both stepped closer, now inches apart.
You moved your lips to kiss his cheek, only for Gwayne to move his head and capture your lips with his, in a soft delicate kiss.  
The shadows of the keep kept you had hidden from wandering eyes as you kissed.
It was short but sweet and left you both wanting more as he was forced to step back from you.
He whispered softly “I will think of you, always”.
“As will I” you said, reaching into you hem and pulling out your handkerchief, you had sown the initial of your name and his ono it, and placed it in the palm of his hand.
Closing is hand you softly placed a kiss onto it.
“goodbye” he spoke, before moving to his horse and riding off, sending you a final look before he left.
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The days tricked by, blurring together. Aegon’s recovering slow and with little change.
You stayed in your room, much to your mother’s delight.
Letters were exchanged between you and Gwayne. But this time the letters seemed different, this time they were bolder, your feelings no longer hidden.
Dearest,
I left you only moments ago and yet I miss you already.
That kiss was everything and more, I cannot believe it took us so long to do it, even of it happened by a mistake.
I am sorry our reunion was so brief, and I wish I was bound to you and not duty.
I shall write again soon, but in the meantime, I hope the thought of you in my thoughts will tide you over.
Yours, Gwyane.
Dear Gwayne,
You just left my side and yet apart of me left with you.
I hope your thoughts are filled with me as mine are of you.
The walk back to my room was a long one, longer than it had ever taken me as I had to drag myself away from you, away from moonfyers as thoughts of chasing after you filled my mind.
My mind was a mess all night, much to my mother’s disappointment. Though I doubt she noticed my mind was with you and not in the keep.
This morrow I was awoken absurdly early and summoned to the small council!
And before you say anything I am not sure as to why, even after attending it.
I seemed to be there as a way to boost Aemond’s moral? Or should I say the prince regents.
I was simple them to watch plans be made, and to be told of an alliance, a marriage between me and some lords son, I believe some Tully.
I refused and they demanded.
I offered my dragon, they refused, and I demanded.
They claimed a woman in battle would only lead to a loss. Even if moonfyers is bigger than most for her age and even rivals Caraxes.
Anything else was ignored and dismissed and I was quickly ushered to my chambers and forced to plan a wedding.
A wedding I wish was with you.
I do not know what to do, uncle.
Please tell me to come to you, and I will.
Yours always.
My love,
The days are endlessly long, and I find myself craving you by myside more than ever.
You chase my every though both awake and asleep.
And forgive me for beings bold, niece, but I can, no will not hold back what I have longed to crave any longer.
I wished I had placed you upon my horse and ridden of with you into the night, defying your mother and brothers’ commands.
But I want you, more than I need air to breath. And for so long I have defied myself and held back my desires, my love for you.
I beg you, come to me.
Forget their plans and demands, come to me and marry me.
I am set to arrive in old town in two days, leaving you plenty of time to come to me.
With love, Gwyane.
To Gwyane,
I will come to you, it may take a few days, but I cannot stay here. And I will not stay away from you any longer.
With love, your heart.
you sat in your chambers, contemplation how you to leave.
Though there were secret passageways in your room, you had never used them. They were like a labyrinth in truth and the one time you had speed in them you feared you would get lost.
And the guards stationed outside of your door were stationed for the exact reason you were event you were currently planning.
your other would never let you go willingly, not now especially.
But then again you doubted she would notice you were gone, at least for a day or two.
Heleana may notice, but she wouldn’t say a thing.
Aemond had just been given what he always wanted and would flaunt his power as much as he could, meaning he’d keep put of your way, in fear you would ‘act up’, as he called it, and embarrass him.
This meant that the guards were your only issue, and perhaps Larys spy’s. though you cared not for them for what could they do to stop you? Tattle to Larys who would sell the information for the sight of your mother’s feet? Even then you would have a few hours.
Luckly for you however, you knew your guards. And they had a penchant for wine.
“Steffon, Gregor” you whispered opening your door a bottle of Dornish red in hand.
“Princess” they nodded, tuning around to ignore you.
“You must be bored” you started, “perhaps you can join me for a drink?” you said, fluttering your eyelashes.
They turned to face each other unsure of what to do, “oh come on, know one will care. You’ll still be guarding me, won’t you?”
Their eyes wandered to the bottle of wine “is that the only bottle, princess?”
You scoffed, “of course not”.
They smiled and ushered you in to your chamber.
It was funny, you must have done this a dozen time before and they still fell for it every time.
And being such lightweights, they were quick to fall into a drunken sleep, allowing you to grab your bag and make a run for the dragon pit.
Running through the streets of Kingslanding at night were dan, especially in your rich clothes and jewels.         
And seeing as you had only walked to the dragon pit once or twice, with the company of a dozen guards, the run was a lot longer than expected.
Getting lost in the never-ending streets of flea bottom was easy, and before you knew it you had somehow ended up on the streets of silk.
“gods” you mumbled, looking around in search of a sign to lead you in the right direction.
You could see the dragon pit, so at least you weren’t too far away, only issue is the brothel with the name ‘Chantaya’s’ seemed to stand in the way of a quick exit.
“sister” you heard someone say, and the sight of Aemond exiting said brothel, through you into a sprint once again.
You were sure you looked like some pick pocket as you ran through the street, Aemond hot on your tale.
And with being such a stranger to kings landing you found yourself meeting an end and Aemond catching up to you.
“Let go of me” you muttered trying to pull yourself free from Aemond’s grasp.
“Who let you out” he sneered.
“Does it matter?” you sneered in return, “what are you even doing here?” you asked, and Aemond face dropped.
“I could ask you the same”.
“I wanted to go to the dragon pit” “the dragon pit” he reiterated, not believing you. “To what? Declare for the usurper?”
“Gods no” you near yelled, “I- “you were hesitant to tell him, having never got on along with him and never having much to say to him at all, this was honestly the most you and he had spoken since the start of the war. “I wish to go to oldtown”.
“why”
“To…to see Gwyane”.
“Our uncle?”
“Do you know of another Gwyane I could possibly wish to see in oldtown?” you said snidely.
He hummed, looking at you with a smirk, “I am your prince regent, I command you know” he said, “one word from me and I could have you locked in the black cells, or I could command you to go to oldtown to gather forces, with Gwayne”
You hated that you looked at him hopeful and hated even more that if he asked you would beg.
“But why, dear sister? Should I command you to oldtown? You are the future lady Tully after all”.
You scoffed, “oh please, we both know the Tullys are hardly loyal now and the second old Grover Tully dies they’ll declare for the black’s”.
“true”
“And why would you want me here anyway? I do not listen, and I defy your every move, sending me a way would better your rule, would it not?”
“Oh sister, you truly have been undervalued. Fine I shall take you to the dragon pit and order you to oldtown.”
Order you? As if there was a single part of you that did not already crave to be there, with him.
The walk to the dragon pit was a quiet and awkward, with Aemond pulling you by the hand, a tight grip as if you would try to escape.
Not a word was exchanged even as you entered, only your words commanding the dragon keepers to fetch you moonfyers and Aemond stood beside you in his usual stance.
He gave you a taunting wave as you took flight, and you never looked back.
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It took five hours for you to reach oldtown.
A storm thundered as you entered the reach, rain dowsing your and obstructing your vison. Had it not been for the bright blue scales of your brother’s dragon, Tesserion you were sure you would have flown into the Hightower.
Landing, you were quickly greeted with guards and the face of your brother Daeron.
“Brother” you greeted as you slide of your dragon, “a pleasure to see you!”
“And you, Gwayne said you were coming” he nodded, hand raised to stop rain pouring over his face, “come in, quickly”
The Hightower, was exactly as you envisioned, filled with riches and symbols of the seven. It looked like a museum almost.
You were brough into a room lined with seats and walls filled with books. Painting filled with the faces of old lords and ladies, and tapestry depicting Aegon s landing in oldtown and his coronation.
“niece” you heard a voice breath, causing your inspection to come to a halt as you turned and faced Gwayne,
“uncle” you breathed in return and not a moment later were you running into his arms and your lips meeting once more.
This kiss was different than the one in the courtyard, this one was filled with longing, filled with pure love and desire.
Years of want filling you mouths your lips moved against each other.
“Gwayne” you whispered against his lips, as you both breathed heavily, your heads leant against each others.
He whispered your name in return, “you came” he breathed, not quite believing it.
“of course, you asked…and the prince regent commanded it”
He laughed “what?”
“when I was making my mistake i came across Aemond leaving a brothel” you laughed, “and somehow he decided to command me to oldtown to gather forces”
“oh?” he said, head tilting, “I see…does that mean you now command me?”
“do I not anyway?” you asked tauntingly.
He laughed, grabbing you to him once more and pulling you into another kiss, “I believe we command each other, my love” he said breaking the kiss.
“my love?”
“my love” he agreed, caressing your cheek, “I love you” he finally admitted.
And you smiled. Looking at him as he always looked at you.
He always had seen you, understood you when no one else did.
And the look in his yes, it was pure love and you had never felt more seen than in this moment.
“I love you” you replied, and he smiled.
“come with me” he said taking your hand and leading you up to his room.
His room, though perhaps smaller than others, was still large and full of all things Gwayne. With his own mural and tapestry.
“do you like it?” he asked, taking note of your eyes that had not left the tapestry he had commissioned.
“is that?” you asked, unsure if you were seeing it right.
“Moonfyer and you, yes”
“gods, Gwyane” you said breathlessly, a mural of you riding moonfyers for the first time, your second time meeting Gwyane and the first time you and he realised the bond between you both.
You turned to face him, and kissed him once more.
Unlike before this kiss was heated, passionate and full of lust.                                                                                                 
His hands moved to your waist, as you slowly moved towards the bed, your hands reaching and pulling at his clothes, taking them of and leaving him in only his small clothes.
Your dress wet and soaked was quickly torn of you intern, leaving you only in your soaked chemise.
Their lips broke apart as her legs hit the bed. Taking each other in Gwayne moaned at the sight of your breast peeking out through the now sheer chemise.
“can i?” Gwayne breathed, hand coming to toy with the strap of your chemise.
You nodded, allowing your chemise to slip and leaving you bare before him.
“gods” he breathed, “ you are beautiful” he said, before pushing you down on the bed, his lips connecting with yours.
His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, nipping at your skin, causing you to moan softly.
He kissed his way down your body, before he reached your cunt.
“can i?” he asked once more, eager to taste her cunt.
“yes”  you said, not quite sure what he intended to do until you felt his nose nudge between your thighs and a slow lick alone the length of your cunt.
groaning at the taste, he quickly went back licking and tasting your cunt, like a man starved. You moaned pleasure, hands moving to tug his hair as he found your clit.
Touching yourself had never felt like this, the sheer pleasure you felt as he sucked your clit into his mouth was better than any orgasm you had brought yourself to before, even more so when you felt his fingers toying with your entrance.
You tensed as his fingers entered you. They were thicker and longer than your own and you started to feel the stretch as he pumped you full of his two fingers.
You moaned, your body moving off the bed as you his fingers pumped in and out.
His hand moved to your waist gripping you down as he continued to fill you, your moans filling the room as his third finger entered you and you soon reached your peak.
He slowly backed away from you, pulling down his small clothes to revel his hard, thick cock.
“oh!” you spoke, at the sight of him.
“oh? Not good enough niece?” he asked teasingly.
“gods, it, yes” you nodded, reaching out to him.
He laughed, before slowly crawling onto the bed, his body covering yours. Taking your lips his, in a passionate and heated kiss, as his legs slowly parted yours as he positioned himself at her entrance.
“Are you sure?” he breathed against your lips, hand holding your waist as his cock teased your entrance.
You nodded, reaching forward to kiss him again, “yes”.
At the word he entered you slowly.
You groaned at the stretch but found no pain as he entered you.
His long cock filling you, a bulge appearing in your stomach as he allowed time for you to adjust.
“gods, you feel amazing” he groaned, moving his head to the nape of your neck “can I move?” he groaned, as your walls wrapped around him.
Nodding, “yes” you breathed. And wasting no time he began to slowly pump in and out of you.
You moaned as he thrusted into you, your hips moving to meet his as he picked up the pace.
He groaned at the feel of you moving against him, has hands gripping your waist as he started to thrust into you faster, he soon found that sweet spot inside you, that quickly turned you into a moaning mess. And soon you were wrapping your arms around him, clawing at his back as you felt your peak it washes over you and the feel if his seed filling you.
Your breath was heavy, his even heavier as he lay on you, his face still in your neck leaving soft kisses as he started to move of you slightly.
“marry me” he said, giving you soft kisses between his words. “this place is filled with septon’s it will be easy to find one to marry us.”
“okay” you said, looking into his yes.
“okay?”
You laughed, “yes, Gwyane I will marry you.”
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