#THIS IS IN JEST. I AM JESTING I AM NOT BEING SERIOUS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mylovingkiss · 1 month ago

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. ݁ ˖ ⌗ 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 . . .ᐟ ´-

♯ . 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 : dante sparda x fem!reader 𖤝

# 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 : 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭, 𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴. 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭.

# 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 : 3.1k +

. ‿̩͙ . ݁ᛪ༙ . ‿̩͙ .

the lock sticks again. you shoulder it open, and like always, no one's there to answer.

you don't call his name. the lights are off, but the TV flickers. a cheap static staining the walls.

dante's out cold on the couch. one arm slung off the side, fingers barely hooking a can by the brim. his mouth is parted, and his soft snores were beginning to get lost in whatever dream.

he doesn't stir. not at the noise of the screen. or the creak of your boots dragging mud across the boards. not when the door shuts behind you, sealing the night's luminance back into the dark.

he looked so peaceful. it would've been sweet if you simply ignored how the world had been trying to gut you alive. clawing at your throat whenever you'd even try and breathe.

“g'night,” you mumbled tiredly, then mockingly to yourself, “oh, how am i, baby? i'm doing okay, sweet of you to ask.”

you step in. the apartment colder than you remember leaving it.

your gear settles in the armchair. gods know how the zipper of your bag managed to get caught in one of the loose threads of the cushions. sometimes it felt as if life was testing the last strings of patience you held.

but ignoring so, you took a few steps that led you to the AC. turning up the temperature to something more human. letting the warmth settle before joining your thoughts in the bathroom.

the mirror greets you, cracked through the corner, warped in age.

for someone who saves the world on a regular, dante still lives in it like it's falling apart.

not ‘one for being in debt’ he says. . . ironically contradicting the certain situation he has you both against.

the reflection replicates the impurities the previous fight brought. the hollow eyes and split lip, the ribbon of already-dried blood down your temple. not to mention the pale hues poisoning your features.

going out feels less like a mission and more like a jest at your expense. instead of being paid money and assurance, like any other hunter would love, you're left with scars and fewer bullets in your mag.

y'see, dante forgot to mention that part.

you shake your head, reaching for the rag on the sink. it's damp. maybe from before, or from him. and let the water seep.

but the blood didn't rub off. you scrub, and drag until the cloth turns dark. it's stubborn and doesn't want to let go of your skin. over, and over.

it clings—like the things he says. or the ones he doesn't.

and suddenly. . . it's not just about blood you're trying to rid off.

you should've known.

you should’ve.

he's sparda's son. born of devils' skin and a woman's tragedy. you knew what he was before he ever touched you. you knew the look of their eyes was to warn and lips to deceive.

you think of what he said.

you think of how easily he said it. . .

“you knew what this was. come on—i'm not the settling-down type.”

he made it sound like a means to an end. some one-sided bond. nothing serious. . . it always did make you feel pathetic.

you breathe out and your reflection fogs up like it's trying to spare you the sight.

“this... isn't just casual, is it?” you asked, voice softer than usual.

he didn't even mind to look.

“what's that supposed to mean?”

you frowned, shifting the strawberry delight in your hands slightly. “i mean. . . like, we've been going out and doing this for a while. i thought… y'know.”

“you're reading too much into it.” he casually said, the spoon still in his mouth as it muffled some words, “don't make this into more than it is. i'm sure everyone does it, yeah?”

somewhere between the frustration, you hadn't realized you reopened a wound. with how carelessly you've tried to clean your skin, it was quick to irritate the area, pealing back a layer of deeper red.

you want to blame him. you want to call him what he is.

a demon. . . but the word didn't sound fair.

you bite it down, feeling it rot in your throat. but with everything you held back. it was impossible take control of it all.

tears glistened in your eyes, though the voice in your mind persisted you could only blame yourself for this.

. . .he never did promised you safety, nor promise you'd be loved.

and yet, you remember the way he looked at you that first night... held heavy by rain and devil guts, grinning like the world wasn't near its end. you remember his voice, and how it dipped when he called you “hotshot.” like it meant something.

or when his fingers would ever so slightly shift to hold yours. saying “just in case something tried to drag you away.” not that he cared. he made sure to say that. but the tone of his words, or the look in his eyes never helped that cause.

maybe you were stupid to believe that tone meant more than the words that followed it.

you told yourself it was enough. that it didn't hurt. that if you just stayed long enough, maybe he'd figure it out. after all, he's the only one you had. and you his.

maybe you could teach a man made of doubt how to trust. and potentially, how to love. . .

you subconsciously drag the cloth harder across the back of your hands. you feel the sting of another cut breaking open. the warmth of blood lingers longer now, caught in the lines of your palm. your fingers start to shake. whether from the texture or from everything else, it's so hard to tell apart.

you hate how ugly it feels. you hate that it's true. you hate that calling him a demon makes your chest tighten with guilt.

maybe caring makes you naive. or worse—selfish. because you weren't in love with the devil. you were in love with the man who tried not to look flustered when he was complimented. the guy who'd gift you dead flowers because he thought you could simply plant them over again and watch them grow yourself.

could that make you worse of a person?

does that mean you're cruel?

for choosing what part of him to love and which to discard.

for extending your arms to the part of him that told what you wanted to hear, and turn your face from the one that silently begged to be held the same. . .

or does it just make you human?. . . the want for affection. being drawn to solace like any other living thing.

you drop the cloth. and it limps at the bottom of the sink with a sickening sound. the water is gentle. but your skin is raw, proliferating a rose red beneath its surface.

there's a shift. not yours. a creak—barely audible over the faucet's hum.

you don't want to meet the reflection. but the water stills. and your iris finds that familiar shade...

his hand finds the knob to turn off, and he stays there, eyes the color of winter glass, trailing patterns down the porcelain's worn down edges.

you don't greet him. you're still mending your hands. like maybe if you scrubbed harder, the ache in your chest would come off with the grime.

“...why didn't you say you were back?”

his tone tries for casual. like it's just a question.

you stare at the cloth. unsure of what to even say. so you settle with silence.

somehow, that throws him hard. his lips shift like he wants to argue, like he wants to give some dumb quip about how he's unbothered by everything just so he could at least hear your voice. but he doesn't.

“. . . you were gone all day.”

he says it quieter. maybe that's the part he actually meant to lead with.

you nod, but it's faint. your shoulders don't lift much.

he wishes there was some awkwardness, something, anything to distract from the unsettling sensation of your quietude.

he rubs the back of his neck, glancing down like he suddenly noticed how red your hands are.

“…i have some leftover pizza.”

could you even call it an effort? it's more like a life raft tossed out of habit.

it has nothing to do with the conversation. but he always does this. dismissing the main problem like he's afraid of it.

you close your eyes, pressing your palms into the edge of the sink until your knuckles pale.

he notices your distress. “it's pepperoni,” he mumbles. like that's the important part.

you almost smile. almost.

instead, you rinse your hands again. the water runs clear this time, but you still don't look at him.

he watches you for a moment too long, then shifts his weight like he's preparing for something. because he knows after you're done, you're going to leave that door and not speak to him. . . and he doesn't know if that might be the last time.

“is this about yesterday?” it's barely audible.

you don't reply. and that's an answer enough on its own.

“listen, i didn't mean it like that... what i said. . .” he trails off, like he needs the right words to give peace of mind, even if just temporary.

you move to leave slowly, not because you're hesitant, but because your limbs are aching. and along with the strain of your feelings, you can't bring yourself to listen anymore of it.

he notices, and his voice cracks halfway through.

“i was tired—and i say a lotta crap when i don't wanna think about it.” his voice is low now, almost ashamed.

you brush his shoulder on the way past. he feels it, the empty space left behind.

his hand is out before he even realizes it, reaching for your wrist. fingers clumsily closing over it.

“just—wait a sec.”

“dante.”

“i don't want to argue about—“

“nobody is arguing.”

“then let me say something!”

“i'm tired—“

“you were bein' real. and i got scared, alright?”

you pause, feeling the resignation in his voice, and how the irises of your eyes dilate. because you swear this amount of emotion had never neared his lips.

and he hates it, because to him, he looks pathetic.

instead he just stands there. a little awkward in the way some are after being caught with the truth.

“it's not that i don't care,” he finally says.

and somehow, your heart pieced together his words.

i just don't know how to.

he sucks in a breath, and trusts you enough to let go of your wrist.

then quieter, “i’ve... i can handle demons, i can handle fights, and anything my father's name throws at me, but. . .”

his eyes gesture vaguely at you, it's kind of stupid. but he can't help the words out.

“see, this ain't how i wanted it to go.”

you tilt you head, squinting your eyes. “go. . . how?”

“i had a cooler version in my head...” he huffs out a short breath. glancing away, and dragging a hand down his face. “it's not coming out right.”

but you wait. not trying to fix it.

“look, you already know i’m—” he paused, and you notice the subtle twitch in his eyes as he lowers his voice, “a fuck-up. . .” like he flinches at the thought of even being honest with himself.

he finally looks at you. really looks.

“you said 'i love you’,” he says quietly. “and i wasn't sure how to say it back.”

his fingers twitch again at his sides, curling into a fist before unclenching. “and i don't get why you stay.”

“you could be doin' literally anything else. office job. photography. bartending, get weekends off. but you're out here gettin' blood on your shoes, draggin' me home, payin' for groceries i swore i was gonna cover—” his hand lifts to gesture vaguely toward the hallway where the kitchenette resides, a little helpless motion.

“—and when i ask you why, you shut me up with kisses, tell me you chose to do this with me and—goddamn it, i swear you're more worried about me skipping meals than the 10-foot demon hound chasin' us around.” he starts to list it off-not out of mockery, but out of disbelief. out of a desperate need to understand.

he pauses.

“and that scares me.”

“. . . i don't know what to do with that.”

the silence afterward is heavier than anything he's mentioned he doesn't fill it. just stands there, heart begging to crawl out of his chest, waiting for you to answer-or walk away.

“it's reckless, and i swear, i swear—i look at you and i forget how to be the guy i was before.”

he swallows hard. trying to press it all back down. everything he's never said, and never let himself say. rising anyway, thick in his throat, crawling up behind his ribs.

“before you,” he says, almost inaudibly, shame tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“i didn't think there was anything else for me. no future, no version of me that wasn't just. . . surviving.”

then he finally trust you enough. letting go of your hand. bracing himself for you to pull away and leave. but you don't.

“. . . i found you outside that eye-sore of a tower,” he mutters, almost to himself. “firing off rounds from some busted-ass pawn shop pistol.”

you do your best not to smile. he notices.

“world's ending, demons crawling outta hell's crack, and there you were. standing on a pile of rubble.”

his voice shakes with the effort it takes to say it. “and i thought, no way she's sticking around. no way someone like you stays in this mess. 'cause seeing you in itself is a blessing—i mean, damn it.”

“you had no clue what was going on," he goes on, and there's a laugh caught somewhere in his throat. "said you were just looking for a train station. i thought—hell, maybe you'd been hit on the head. or maybe you were just that badass.”

he swallows. you can almost hear it. that tight, dry click of someone dragging emotion through grit.

“you weren't supposed to get dragged into this shit. none of it. blood, demons, cults, hell gates... me. i'm the one who was built for this. born for it, even. i got nothin' to lose here.”

his breath catches a little. he doesn't look at you. “or i didn't have it before.”

“so yeah,” he mutters, quieter now. “i'm selfish. and scared. and real goddamn bad at this.”

“but if this thing between us is the last good thing i ever get... i'm not gonna be the reason it gets ruined.”

“. . . i didn't follow you,” you murmur. “you weren't leading somewhere.”

he blinks. not quite understanding.

“you didn't drag me into anything...” you add.

your voice softens an orphic sentence.

“i wanted to be here. and you're not nothing. not to me.”

he finally looks up at you. really looks.

like he's been surviving of off the idea that you'd never say those words. that he didn't deserve them.

and maybe that's what breaks him.

his hand trembles at his side. not enough to see, but you can feel it.

“…shit,” he breathes, half a laugh and not at all amused. “you've never heard me talk this much, huh?”

you shake your head, a slow blink. “i mean... you talk a lot. but not usually things that, well, you actually have to think through.”

that gets a soft scoff out of him. his smile—worn and faint, barely reaches the line of his lips.

and you watch it fall again, just as gently.

“i just want you to be safe,” he mutters, voice low and hoarse. “and if that means havin' you away from me... then maybe that's what i should've done.”

“but i didn't. and i'm not gonna lie and say i'd do it different, 'cause i wouldn't.”

he reached for the cloth, cleaning through and rinsing off whatever blood there was left on your hands, before placing it back down. “i tried, but, guess i only ended up making things worse.”

you blink through the selcouth feeling in your chest. the way his voice cracks when he acknowledges it.

“. . . so, what are we?”

he looks up again. like you offered him mercy. and that makes him laugh, soft and disbelieving.

“anything you want me to be.”

your lips curl into the softest of smiles. then tilt your head.

he blinks, rolling his eyes. “i'm bein' serious.”

“my over-leveraged moocher?”

“babe,” he warns, and you hear the smile threatening to pair his mouth.

you squint at him like you're thinking. “a guy that actually speaks out about how he's feeling instead of leaving me out in the open thinking he never cared about me?”

his jaw drops, and he quickly gains composure, running a hand through his hair.

“see, i thought for sure you'd bail out by now.”

“how come?”

“someone like you... sticking around in my kind of mess this long?” he scoffs. “yeah, right.”

you let the silence settle again, lighter this time. not raw as before.

then quietly follow-up.

“...it's because i'm cooler, isn't it?”

and you expect him to talk back. to scoff, to playfully deflect like he always does. you even tilt your head, waiting. but he doesn't.

his eyes linger on your face—your tired but amused expression, the tiny crease forming by your nose when you try not to smile.

he exhales, low. “we're on the same level,” he mutters, and you can already hear the eye-roll in his tone.

he finally smiles, faint, boyish in that half-awkward, sheepish way of his. like he can't believe he just admitted that.

and before you can brace it, he leans in, grabbing the back of your thighs, hoisting you up against him.

you gasp, interrupted by a laugh. a real, surprised breathless bubble of sweetest undoing. “what are you doing—“

“bein' romantic,” he deadpans, but you can feel the grin against your jaw. “thought you wanted an emotionally-driven guy.”

his arms hold you firm, his hands warm through the fabric of your clothes.

you're laughing too much to argue. and he kisses you before you can even get a word out.

slow and tentative. only to break messy.

he pulls back just enough to whisper it against your lips, “you are cooler, by the way.” like it doesn't need to be louder than this.

and it's stupid, and sweet, and so unmistakably him, but it lands so softly.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

𝜗𝜚 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : hi annon and everyone <3

i hope you see this, for some reason it's not letting me reply to your inbox request so that sucks. . .

i'm going to be so honest i'm a bit of a wuss so there's fluff at the end. . . and it might be ooc but there’s not a lot of material to base this off of.

but tysm for the request! feel free to give me as many ideas or corrections as needed—sorry if this is kind of short... i didn't want for it to be obnoxiously long or boring.

also if you couldn't tell i got a bit lazy at the end, i’m so super sorry, i'll update it as soon as i can! i just wanted to post something for the meanwhile. . .

anyway, i hope this was suitable for your enjoyment. have a blessed day!

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entitled-fangirl · 10 months ago

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Never Happier.

Gwayne Hightower x wife!reader

Summary: Gwayne returns to the reader and their infant son after the battle of Rook's Rest.

Warnings: breastfeeding, crying, feelings of guilt

Masterlist

...........................................

"My sweet wife is likely awaiting my return. So while I enjoy our conversation, Lord Hand, I must return to her."

Criston Cole tilted his head with a slight annoyance at the reminder of the sweet life that awaited the redhead. "Very well. I thank you again for your service to the Crown."

Gwayne nodded, "Of course." He then handed the reigns of his horse off and began to head inside in Keep.

It was unusual for a wife to not be outdoors to await the sight of their husband, and it worried him.

But as he stepped into the Keep, he was met with the sight of his wife running to him. "Gwayne!"

He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her, one of his gloved hands wrapping around the back of her neck to keep her close.

"I… I tried to… I tried to be there… but your son was keeping me…"

He only held her tighter, "Shh, it does not bother me." He rested his chin on the top of her head. "You have cared for my son while I was off fighting a battle."

Her fingers gripped desperately at the harsh metal of his armor. "I am still sorry."

"Hush, woman," he teased lightly. He reached up and gently pulled her head away from him to look down at her.

Only then did he notice the light tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" He lightly reprimanded.

She sniffled as she looked up at him. "I… I am not."

He let out a scoff as a smirk came to his lips. "Be honest with your husband."

"I… I was unable to feed Loras. I tried. I did, I promise."

"I do not doubt you, sweet woman." His grip on her head tightened just barely. "I still do not understand your tears."

"I was late to greet you because I could not feed him. I feel… inadequate in fulfilling my duties." Hot tears began to fall down her cheeks as a light sob wracked her body.

Every teasing inkling that ran through him fell away once the tears trailed down her soft skin. "Oh, dear woman…" He leaned down to her level and pressed an earnest kiss to her lips, trying to ignore the salty taste of the tears mixed in.

She continued to sob as she kissed him back, overcome with every emotion. Her fingers continued to grasp as anything of his that she could, ending with her hands in his hair. She pulled at the strands desperately.

He moved away, wanting to let her catch her breath, but she chased his lips, reconnecting them. He moved again to her, trying to reassure her through his actions.

The two stayed this way for a while, breaking apart only to catch their breath for a second and then continue. Their hands wandered gently over the other.

He pulled away again, and when her lips followed, he pulled away further, "Talk to me."

She let out a small whine, and rested her head on the metal plate on his chest. His hand rubbed up and down her back.

"I've missed you desperately," was all she said.

He hummed, "Forgive me for leaving you when you needed me most."

She pulled away, "You're being so gentle."

His brows furrowed as he smiled, "Are you surprised? I can be gentle when I wish to."

She sniffled and wiped her cheek as she let out a soft chuckle.

"Is our boy still unfed?" He lightly asked and brushed hair behind her ear.

She nodded, "Alicent offered to bring in a wet nurse, but I did not have the heart to do it. I have managed it for months. I don't know why it troubles me now."

He nodded with her. "So you will try again?"

"After seeing you, yes."

"Let us go together then."

She shook her head, "I couldn't ask you to do that."

He let out a sigh. "You have ten minutes before I am in our child's room with you. I must get out of this armor first."

She stared at him for a while to ensure that he was indeed serious and not just jesting with her. When she found him to be honest, she nodded and headed up the stairs to their child's chamber.

...

Ten minutes almost exactly, Gwayne opened the door with a soft creak and peered inside.

Loras, their 5 month old son, whined in his mother's arms as she tried to feed him. Her dress was lowered down one shoulder to expose her breast as she held the babe to her nipple.

She looked up when he entered, the tears in her eyes beginning all over again, "You look better without the armor."

He grinned as he stepped further into the room, "Without the armor or without the blood?"

"Both, I guess." She looked down at the babe, "It means there is no danger lurking in the shadows."

He nodded, "I've scared it all away for now."

She watched him walk to her, bending down to caress his son's cheek, "No luck still?"

"I have tried it all, and so has he. It is growing tiring," she whined.

"Let me hold my son while you gain your bearings again, love."

She shook her head, "If it has not happened yet, it will not happen at all. I will not try a third ti-"

"-Hand me the babe," he demanded without room for debate.

She handed the child to him, trying to keep her emotions in as she watched how carefully he handled him. It was like second nature to the man, coming back bloody from a war and then coddling his infant to his body like a precious jewel.

"What do I do now?" She asked softly.

He shrugged, "Anything that will ease your mind."

"Your company eases my mind," she stated.

He nodded, "Then stay."

She pulled the sleeve of her dress back over herself, fastening the strings at the top of her bodice. "He's a rather easy child usually. I don't know what's come over him."

"He seems content now," Gwayne pointed out as he looked down at the small boy in his arms.

Indeed, the child's fussing had died down.

She frowned in frustration, "I held him the same way and he cried."

"You don't have a father's touch, my dear girl," he teased. "Perhaps he missed me is all."

She stood on shaky legs and walked towards the pair. Gwayne watched intently, careful to reach out with his free hand to steady her if need be.

Once to them, she rested her head on Gwayne's bicep as she looked down at their son. "If you ever question how Hightower he is, I hope his hair is enough for you."

A humorous laugh left his lips, "I never doubted it, but it brings me joy to have verifiable proof to others that I have indeed claimed you as mine."

"As if anyone would question your love for me," she scoffed.

He smirked, "You may be married, but if you were not being fulfilled, any man would jump at the opportunity. Trust me, my dear. You are a delight to gaze upon. Even with my babe at your breast- especially with my babe at your breast."

It reminded her of the one thing she had failed at today. "Give him back, I wish to try again."

He held the babe away from her just barely out of reach. "You're exhausted. Let me help you in some way."

"How would you do that, Gwayne?"

He smiled, "Let us go back to our chambers with him and get comfortable."

She gave in, walking him to their chambers as their son lightly babbled.

Once there, he motioned his head toward the bed. "Sit."

"Gwayne-"

"- I said sit. Now go on."

She huffs but does as he says, sitting on the bed.

Gwayne moved next to her, pushing his back against the headboard, "sit between my legs now."

She starts to see where he's going with this, and does as he asks. He lifts the babe up so she can duck under his arms.

Now with the babe in his arms in front of her, he can support both the babe and his wife.

She leans back against his chest, "And you're sure about this?"

"I've never been more sure of anything but marrying you, sweet woman." He kissed the top of her head.

She unties the bodice again, pulling the sleeve down one shoulder.

Before she can even get herself entirely set, the babe latches onto her breast, the very thing she had tried to get him to do for hours before.

She let out a whine, and Gwayne nudges his head against the back of hers, "Something the matter?"

She quickly shook her head, "No. No, everything's perfect."

"Good. Get comfortable. I've got you now."

Leaning against him fully, her entire body can relax, something that's never happened while trying to feed the babe in her husband's absence.

Gwayne's strong arms keep her caged in as he supports his son with his hands, keeping him steady to avoid any further grief from his son's mother.

"I think you're right." She sighed.

"About what?" He asked.

Her head leans back against his shoulder. "We have both missed you."

With his entire world within his grasp, Gwayne Hightower had never been happier.

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#fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x y/n #game of thrones imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #ser gwayne hightower #gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower x you #gwayne x reader #gwayne hightower #gwayne hightower imagine #gwayne hightower x female reader #gwayne hightower x wife!reader

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ebodebo · 2 months ago

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Rescue me, I want your tender charm!

pairing: dbf!dr. jack abbott x fem!reader

word count: 6.5k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, fem!reader, phone sex, masturbation, no use of y/n, dirty talk, age-gap, reader is in her early to mid 20s and jack is…how old he is…, two for one: dad’s best friend & best friend’s dad, no jake, probable medical inaccuracies, reader getting drugged, secret relationship, drug & alcohol consumption, no langdon addiction arc, heavy angst, & use of medical jargon.

author’s note: writing for this show wasn’t on my bingo card, but here we are! i need this man with my whole being and i’m so serious. i would also like to clarify that you did not grow up knowing abbott or his daughter. you met them in the last year or so, while finishing up your bachelor's degree and starting on your master's. also, before reading, please heed all the warnings above, as this fic is meant to be read with care. read at your own discretion.

Jack always takes such good care of his girl...

"Jack," you narrow your eyes, a smile breaking your serious facade. "I'm serious."

"So am I," he defends, hand over his heart, a cheeky smile spreading across his lips before twirling a finger in the air. "Turn around."

You roll your eyes playfully, twirling where you stand as your dress twirls with you. The fabric rides only slightly up on the back of your thighs, which has him groaning in the bed where he lays naked, only the comforter giving him a shred of decency.

"You're gonna give all the college boys whiplash, sweetheart," he chimes with a gruff laugh.

"Too bad for them because I have a boyfriend," you wink, picking up your dress so it pools around your waist as you crawl over to him on the bed to straddle his lap.

His hands move to grip your thighs, massaging them lightly. "Mhm," he hums softly, leaning forward and kissing your lips softly.

"You smell like sex," you randomly murmur against his lips.

"Well, funny enough, I did just have sex, so that checks out," he jests, hands moving up and down your thighs with ease.

"Oh. Did you now? I had no idea," you press your lips back to his, hand moving to rest on his cheek. You nip his lip lightly as your hands skim down his chest and torso to hover over the blanket that covers his naked lap.

"Insatiable, you are," he mutters against your lips; his words come out breathless.

You let out a dry laugh as his hands grip your waist tightly, and his head dips into the crook of your neck. "You know, your dad would throw a shit fit if he knew where you were right now," his warm breath flutters across your skin.

You let out a hushed moan as his teeth come out to nip the sensitive flesh. "Well then...we best keep it a secret then. Huh?" You simply say, hand skimming his bare chest.

"You know whatever consumes your mind will eventually bleed into the real world?" He asks, hands skimming up your hips. Then he tilts his head away from your neck to look into your eyes.

You quip your brow in confusion.

"Law of attraction," he shrugs simply.

You roll your eyes, groaning as you push him away. "God. You sound like my philosophy professor," you huff, shoulders hunching in defeat.

He lets out a rough laugh. "Is that a good thing?"

"An irritating thing," you inform, your voice tinged with exasperation. "He's such a dick."

"Want me to fight him?" He jokes, his fingers playfully tugging at the hem of your dress, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You contemplate for a moment. "Ask me that after mid-terms."

He smiles, head leaning back to rest on the headboard. "You know, I've always wondered, why philosophy? Could have done EM? You're smart enough for it." His curiosity is genuine, and it warms you.

"Hell no to EM. I'd rather take a bullet to the head," you laugh before realizing he quite literally works in EM. "No offense."

"Some taken, yeah," he nods with a light smile to show he's joking.

You give him a smile before your brain starts turning. "Philosophy…it's...I don't know…grounding," you utter, avoiding his gaze. "Do I sound like an idiot?" You question with a small laugh, eyes finally moving to his.

"No. Of course you don't," he assures, shaking his head. "I get it. I took a philosophy course in med school," he recalls with a hint of nostalgia in his smile. "My attending at the time all but forced me in the class. Said it would help me understand death," he supplies.

"Did you like it?" You ask, tilting your head to the side as you fidget with his fingers resting on the bed.

He nods. "Yeah, I did," he replies, his gaze meeting yours. "It helped me understand morality, which is a miracle in itself.” His eyes then drop to the mattress, lost in thought.

"You know, speaking of that," you say as you shuffle off his lap, to his dismay, searching for your laptop. "I have to write a dissertation on a case study about the ethical implications of fabrications." You swipe your laptop from your bag and sit back on the edge of the bed on his side.

"You can help me with it," you decided, fingers gliding across the keyboard.

He lets out a dry laugh. "Why am I going to help you with your homework?

You turn to look at him. "Because you're smart."

"Sorry, sweetheart," he begins, resting his head on the headboard. "I already did my time."

You roll your eyes playfully, returning to the laptop and tapping the keys to go to the case study. "Yeah. Like forty years ago," you snicker under your breath.

"Oh. Now I'm definitely not helping you," he says, with mock hurt.

You turn to him again, your expression softening. "Sorry…" you chew on your lip, setting your laptop aside to move back towards him. "I'm a dick," you murmur, legs once again straddling his lap.

"Happens to the best of us," he presses a kiss to your lips.

"I find it hard to believe you can be a dick. You're always so sweet," your hand rests on the back of his neck, fingers dragging up and down softly.

"To you," he closes his eyes softly as your fingers delicately move against his skin. "Just to you."

The ER isn't as bustling and noisy as it usually is when you stroll in the following day.

It's almost...quiet.

Too quiet.

"Hotshot strollin' in, and it's not even eight am?" Langdon chimes from behind the triage desk. "Someone's in trouble," he jokes, crossing his arms over his chest.

You give him a smile. "You know me too well, Frank."

He nods his head towards you, a playful glint in his eye. "What did the old man do this time?" He prompts with humor in his tone. "Missed a brunch? Sold your favorite childhood toy?"

You shake your head, moving to lean on the desk. "Oh, much worse," you say as Langdon quips a curious brow. "He's dipping out of our annual family vacation."

"Yikes…" He cringes before tilting his head in thought. "But that sounds like you have an empty seat," he comments, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Where are we going? The tropics? I've been meaning to work on my surfing techniques," he adds, bringing his hands up to pretend to surf, a playful smirk on his face.

You let out a chuckle. "Funny, but not a chance, loser," you breathe out, crossing your arms over your chest. "If I were to take anyone else, it would be your wife," you affirm, a teasing glint in your eye.

"Right. Sorry," he reaches for a clipboard off the desk next to him, scanning it quickly. "I forgot you love Abby more than me," he gives you a short smile.

"Did you really forget though?" You tilt your head, voice pitiful. "I thought I made it painfully obvious," you say as he gives you a fake laugh, skimming around the corner of the desk to go to a patient's room.

"Dana," you greet, swiveling your attention to her sitting at the desk, only half paying attention.

"With a patient, south side, room 15," she immediately says, scribbling on some paper.

"Oh. You know I love you," you tap on the desk, blowing her a playful kiss before turning on your heels, a warm smile on your face.

"Give him hell, kid," she mutters, eyes still focused on the paperwork.

You find the room and see your dad and some medical residents huddled up with a patient.

That does nothing to deter your stride.

You cross across the hall, opening the door open.

"What's this about you missing the family vacation?" You chime, eyes on your dad.

Dr. Robby turns to you, his shoulders sagging at your presence as if he already knew what would happen. "Oh, what a joy," he mutters, wiping his face. "Honey, I'm kind of with a patient right now," he expresses, voice low.

"Good, he can hear how ridiculous you're being," you retort, your lips pursed in frustration. "Mom told me you aren't coming on the trip anymore," you accuse again.

"Um…Dr. Robby, do you want us to call security?" Javadi asks timidly.

"Security?" You repeat with a laugh.

"No, Javadi," he begins with a sigh. "Unfortunately for us, that's my kin," he exhales before fixing his stethoscope. "Whitaker, get 40 milligrams of prednisone. Javadi, get the pulmonologist down here to do a breathing treatment," he orders, snapping his plastic gloves off and tossing them in the trash as he walks over to you, gesturing for you to step outside. "I'll be just outside if you need me," he assures, with a hint of humor. "Call the cops if you don't hear from me in fifteen," he jokes, following you out, trying to lighten the tense situation.

"You're in trouble," you point your finger at him when you enter the hall. "You promised you would go," you exasperate, hands on your hip.

He sighs, his hand wiping over his face. "I know. I'm sorry, but we don't have anyone to cover for me. I told your mother that," he says, his voice tinged with regret.

"Dad," you tilt your head forward, frustration coating your words. "We've had this trip planned for months," you enunciate, your disappointment clear.

"I'm sorry, honey. I just can't swing it right now. Hospital is short-staffed," he says, sincerity in his tone before his eyes light up in thought. "How about you get Abbott's daughter to go with you and your mother?" He nods. "You two are really good friends," he says before his face contorts into confusion. "Surprised she isn't here with you," he huffs deeply.

"She had a thing," you bring your hand up and shoo it to the side.

"A thing? What's a thing?" He says with confusion in his tone, watching your hand flail in the air.

"Just something she had to do," you confirm, not sparing much detail.

"Ah. A secret thing," he says, lifting his hand to pull an invisible zipper across his lips before twisting a fake key on the corner and throwing it to his side. "Got it."

Before you can get a word out, your dad looks behind you and issues a smile towards them before quickly moving to greet them.

"Jack," he addresses, bringing him in for a hug.

"Hey, man," Jack says to your dad, hugging him back, his eyes then wandering to you. "Hey, kid," he smiles towards you, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"Hi, Dr. Abbott," you squeak, feeling a surge of nerves.

"Thought you only worked tonight?" Your dad questioned, tilting his head in confusion.

"Eh. Got called in since one of the other doctors got the flu," he shrugs, though his eyes aren't even fixed on your dad.

"Dr. Bigley? Heard his wife's back in town after being gone for two weeks. You think she mysteriously caught the flu, too?" Your dad jests, a knowing tone in his voice, unaware of the brewing tension beside him. "But, hey, since you're already here, could you take Whitaker on your rotations? Kid could use more patient practice," he tips his head towards the room he's in.

"Sure...yeah," Jack says, finally tearing his eyes away from you to look at your dad. "I can do that."

"Thanks," your dad moves to grab his pager, blaring loudly. "Jack, could you walk her out?" He says, referring to you as he starts over to you. "Make sure she leaves," he raises his brows at you. "Bye, hon. Love you," he presses a kiss to your forehead before spinning on his heels to head in the opposite direction.

"Bye, Dad. Love you too," you yell back, eyes glancing at Jack.

The air crackles with tension as he extends his hand, silently urging you to lead the way. You pick up the cue, your steps quickening as you head towards the front doors, your hands nervously clutching your purse strap.

"You look like you want to be anywhere else than with me," Jack murmurs lowly so no one around can hear, taking note of your sour expression.

You can't help but let out a dry laugh. "Considering I was on my knees for you yesterday morning, I'd say that isn't the case," you say with a casual smirk, adjusting your purse strap.

He stops in his tracks, a cheeky smile growing on his lips. "You little minx—"

"What do you recommend for bruised knees, Dr. Abbott?" You ask with interest and muster a serious expression, eyes locked onto his.

His eyes widen slightly, searching for a crack in your serious facade. "I...well—"

You snicker, making him release a sigh of relief. "I'm just teasing you, Jack. I'll call you later," you murmur, your eyes boring into his.

"Looking forward to it, sweetheart," he says with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings for you.

He wants to reach out and kiss you.

Pull you tight against his body and thread his fingers through your hair, but he can't.

Not here, not now.

His fingers flex as if to touch your fingers that come close to his as you leave.

Yours flex out, too, he notices.

He smiles at the exchange.

It was better than any kiss he could ever get.

About midday, you're parked at your desk, your computer wide open, and your screen is black, responding to your inactivity.

You can't focus on anything you start working on.

Every time you start reading a case study, your brain wonders to Jack.

You always loved seeing him at the hospital when you visited your dad.

Dressed up in his scrubs, hair slightly disheveled, combing his fingers through it when he's irritated, and the teasing tone in his voice when he gets frisky, you can almost smell the antiseptic and hear the distant beeping of machines.

You catch yourself slipping far away from the case study again.

Fuck it.

You're feeling needy.

You grab your phone, sliding your finger to hover over the call icon on his contact.

It takes two rings, and you hear the familiar sound of heart monitors and shuffling in the background.

"Hey. What are you up to?" Your voice echoes through the line, and your finger fidgets with your pen.

"Just had to consult a teen with a co-infection," he informs you, voice low. "Syphilis and herpes."

"Woah. Save some of the fun for the rest of us," you jest, a hint of longing in your voice as you put the pen between your lips.

"Hilarious. What are you doing?" His voice is slightly muffled; you assume he placed the phone between his shoulder and cheek.

"Attempting to study. Have an ethics midterm tomorrow," you sigh.

"Oh. Look at you. Smart girl," he praises as you hear his pen scribbling on some paper.

"Eh. Should have started yesterday, but this guy I know kept me busy all day." You sit up in your chair, chewing on your lip.

"Hey. Don't blame me for your scholastic missteps," he laughs as you continue to hear his pen on the paper.

"Why are you assuming you're the guy I'm talking about?" You contest, attempting to stir him up.

"Call me an optimist," he shakes it off, still continuing to write.

"What if you had competition? Would that scare you?" You find yourself asking with eagerness.

"I'm an ER doctor who's ex-vet with nice hair," he begins, not paying close attention. "Who's competing with me?" His words don't hold smugness, just exude confidence.

"Someone's cocky," you tease, leaning your elbow on your desk, palm holding your cheek, enjoying the playful banter.

"Confidence isn't cockiness, sweetheart," he simply says as you hear a chair creak over the line.

"So they say," you say, feeling a sudden hotness.

"So, why did you call?" He asks curiously, eyes still focused on a patient file.

"Am I not allowed to call my boyfriend?" Your voice is full of faux hurt.

He smiles. "Of course, you can call me anytime sweetheart," his voice is sweet. "You just usually have a reason. Are you stressed?"

You let out a deep sigh. "A little, but I feel bad ranting to a guy who literally has to save lives for a living."

"Come on," he urges, his patience evident. "Hit me."

"It's just…midterms are coming up, and this fucking dissertation," you struggle to articulate, "I know this is going to sound dramatic, but I feel like I'm being swallowed whole, you know?" Your voice quivers with stress.

He sets his pen down. "It's hard," he agrees. "But doable."

"Wow. That's some great insight, Jack. You should consider writing a self-help book," your apparent sarcasm makes him smile.

"Nah. Writing passages for the uninspired, unwilling to make the application is not really my thing," he quips, tilting back in his chair.

"Everyone's a cynic," you say with a humorous undertone that has him smiling in his chair.

The silence hangs over the phone for a moment.

"Are you on break right now?" You finally break the silence, tone full of anticipation.

"Just took twenty to breath," he suspires, hand coming to massage the bridge on his nose.

You chew on your bottom lip. "Are you in your office?"

"I am, yeah," he sits up in his chair. "Why?"

"Just curious," you lick your lips. "I miss you."

"Saw you this morning, sweetheart," he voices with a smile.

"I know, I know," you affirm. "I'm just feeling…needy."

He can hear you shuffling around. "What are you doing?"

"What do you want me to be doing, Jack?" You coax, lying on your bed.

You don't hear anything over the line, and you go to speak before you hear the click of a door closing and the same creaking of the chair.

"Pants off," he commands, voice husky.

You oblige eagerly, stomach fluttering as you slip your pants off and toss them on the floor. "What now?" You ask, already feeling breathless.

"Let's put those pretty little fingers to good use, yeah?" His voice is so low and raspy. "Slide them over your stomach. Don't go any lower," he directs, shifting in his chair.

You slide your fingers down your stomach, tenderly and easily, panting into the phone as you do so.

"That's it, pretty girl," he praises. "Keep going for me."

You let out a shallow moan at the praise, fingers moving up and down your stomach with purpose.

"Take your panties off, baby," he almost releases a groan at the sounds that come off your tongue as you slip your panties off, tossing them off you with the swing of your foot.

"They're off," you breathe, fingers coming back to brush on your stomach.

"Good girl," he begins. "Move your fingers across your pussy. Nice and easy strokes," his voice is so gruff, you could just come to the sound of him talking.

Your fingers move down to place easy strokes on your aching cunt, arousal already accumulating. "Feels good," you whimper, brain hanging onto his praise.

"Good. Just follow my voice," he says. "I'll make you feel good, okay?" He prompts before leaning closer into the phone. "Rub your fingers against your clit," he tells you.

"Jack…." You mewl into the phone as your finger plunges into your cunt, rubbing gently against where you ache.

"Oh. That's it," he gruffs. "Touch yourself, baby…just how you like, yeah?"

"Okay," you breathe out as your fingers actions speed.

"Doing so good," he compliments, hearing the wet sounds of your fingers plunging in and out of you. "Talk to me…let me hear you."

"Feels so good, Jack," you moan out, fingers working faster. “So good.”

"Yeah?" He says, egging you on.

"Mhm," you reply, pleasure building in your lower stomach.

"You gonna be a good girl and come by the hospital later?" He asks as he hears your panting increase.

"Yeah…can't wait to see you," your voice is strained as your fingers work, rubbing against your clit fast.

"Oh, I bet, baby," he says. “I'll make you feel even better in person. Rub you off myself until you come on my fingers." His tone is downright scandalous.

You let out a louder moan, feeling an all-consuming, toe-curling orgasm crash into you.

Jack's eyes locked onto the door knob twisting open, issuing a hurried goodbye before hanging up and tossing his phone on his desk.

Dr. Robby enters, file in hand, staring curiously at Jack's phone on his desk. "Who was that?"

"No one," Jack says instantly, grabbing his phone to put it into his pant pocket.

"Okay. Guess we'll do the secrets thing," Dr. Robby raises his brows before handing the file to Jack. "Got a patient with a heart arrhythmia."

Jack abruptly shifts his focus back to work, his mind void of his personal matters. "Send them to cardio," he instructs, his tone professional and detached as he scans over the file.

"Yup. Already on it," Dr. Robby agrees.

Jack tilts his head, narrowing his eyes. "If you already did that, why did you need my consultation?"

"He's a vet. Said he knows you," Dr. Robby shrugs tilting his head to the side. "North side, room 25."

Jack simply nods as Dr. Robby heads out the door before sinking into his chair, deeply exhaling, the gears in his brain turning.

He was on the phone making you come just mere seconds ago, and he was a fragment of a second away from your dad being able to hear your sweet voice through the phone.

If that doesn't constitute a one-way ticket to the fiery pits, he's not sure what does.

The overwhelming sound of a thumping base and the smell of cheap beer and sweat hangs heavy, clouding your senses.

Your friend has convinced you to go to one of the frat parties.

Nothing like spending your Friday night in a small, confined room full of horny college boys and desperate sorority girls.

The friend in question is a girl you've grown exceptionally close to within the last year.

Did everything together.

You were practically a part of her family, even her moms boyfriend took a liking to you and he was a hard ass.

But, you were particularly close to her dad.

Dr. Abbott.

Oh, you know, the guy you were secretly dating and screwing.

Even made you come over the phone just some hours ago.

Guilt gnaws at your brain as your friend leads you into the house where the��party is happening.

"God, it reeks of weed," you say, covering your nose as the pungent odor fills the air.

"It's a college party. I'd be concerned if it didn't," your friend replies dryly, pulling you through a crowd of college kids toward the kitchen to grab some drinks.

"Don't pour anything too strong," you warn, raising your eyebrows as your friend reaches for a bottle of vodka.

"Just one shot? To celebrate you finishing your dissertation?" She asks, messily pouring the shots.

"I haven't finished it yet—" you begin to protest, but she thrusts a shot in front of you, filled to the brim, causing some of the liquid to spill over the side.

"Shot incoming!" She says with a bright smile, bringing the shot to her lips.

You begrudgingly down the shot with her, both cringing at the taste.

"Tastes like shit," you remark, wiping some off your lip.

"Ugh," your friend winces at the potent flavor and, like clockwork, grabs two more cups to make another drink, this time less intense.

You spot another friend on the couch in the living room, showing off a bag of white pills. You grab your friend's arm, leave your drinks on the counter, and walk over to him.

"What are those?" You ask, crossing your arms and tilting your head toward the pills.

"It's black star, straight from Germany," he replies, shaking the bag.

You and your friend raise your eyebrows in confusion.

He tilts his head and shakes the bag again. "You know, superman? Because it takes you to space." He flaps his arms, pretending to float until his girlfriend elbows him.

"Christ. Enough with the theatrics," she chimes in, standing beside him. "It's LSD. You guys want one?" She tips the bag, letting a couple drop into her palm.

"Sure," your friend shrugs, reaching for the pills.

You shoot her a disapproving look. "Absolutely not. You have no idea what those are made of. Do you want to end up in the ER, having to explain to your dad what you were thinking?" Your eyebrows raise as you speak.

"You're no fun," your friend with the pills laughs, popping one onto his tongue.

You give him a disapproving look before turning back to your friend. "I guess you're right," she says quietly. "He would kill me if the pills didn't."

You nod in agreement. "Let's go get those drinks you made, yeah?" You grab her arm, leading her back to the kitchen.

Your drink has shifted slightly to the side on the counter, but that doesn't deter you from throwing it back completely.

Your friend chugs her drink, licking her lips. "Should we do another?" She poses it as a question, but she isn't asking, already cracking open a fresh bottle of Everclear.

You ponder for a moment, then hand your empty cup to her. "Fine," you exclaim, feeling a mix of exasperation and amusement.

Your friend beams, pouring the spirit into your cups.

"Cheers to..." she trails off, pursing her lips as she hands you a drink.

"...a good night," you finish, clinking your cup with hers.

A smile spreads across her face, and once again, you both down the alcohol. The burn in your throat soothes your thoughts and lulls your brain into submission.

Tonight was definitely going to be a good fucking night.

It's been twenty minutes since then.

Your skin feels blistering yet icy.

Your head is pounding; you wouldn't be surprised if your brain imploded and cracked your skull.

A wave of nausea hits you, then retreats before you act.

What the fuck is going on?

Sure, you drank more than you should have, but this was not what usually happens.

You glance at your friend perched in a corner near you, talking to a girl about something regarding her last lecture.

Nerd.

You presume she's fine.

Leaning against a wall, disoriented, you pull your phone out, opening up your text thread to the one and only.

Jack Abbott.

You haphazardly type out your sentence, and your vision starts to double, but that does nothing to deter you from texting him.

He answers immediately.

Me: what r u up 2? working 2night?

Him: Why are you texting me in numbers?

Me: omg ur so oldd im crying kinda heartwarming though

Him: Heartwarming? How so? Him: Also, where are you?

Me: its just cute lol ur so cute Me: @ party that ur daughter dragged me 2 i feel woozy

Him: I'm cute? Honey, I'm old. Him: Have you been drinking? No drugs, right?

Me: yea ur cute sexy hot yup u check all the boxes dr hotness Me: no my friend tried 2 give uss lsd but i scolded ur daugher Me: i wouldnt ever take that shit or let her im drunk though

Him: Dr. Hotness? Hmm...that's a new one. Him: You need me to pick you two up? I can.

Me: noo were good i wouldnt wanna keep u from saving lives and all

Him: Let me come get you.

Me: jack im fine promise you better not show up or ill kill uu Me: i wouldnt actually but id be mad

Him: I can handle you being mad at me, sweetheart. Him: I just want both of you to be safe.

Me: were fine i promise! ur daughter is lit talking to a girl about her bio stats lecture shes such a nerd

Him: And you? What are you doing?

Me: texting u ofc

Him: Enjoy your party, but don't be stupid. Him: Take care of yourself and my daughter. Him: Call me if you need me.

Me: okay mr serious pants ill talk later byee

"Who ya texting?" Your friend scoots next to you, dilated eyes attempting to look at your phone screen.

"No one," you pull your phone to your chest in a panic, straightening your posture.

"Oh my God. Is it a guy? Do you have a secret boy toy I don't know about?" She nudges your side, face warmed from the alcohol.

"It's none of your beeswax," you huff, rolling your eyes playfully, attempting to sound nonchalant, though you can feel your head begin to spin again, but this time much faster.

"You know, I've never understood that saying," she says, her expression serious.

You release a silent laugh as your words slurry, "Just, just go back to talking about your nerd things," you pat her shoulder gently, feeling your body shift, muscles relaxing to a disturbing degree.

"Whatever," she laughs, trudging herself back over to her friend.

Him: Funny, but seriously, please be safe. Talk to you later.

That was the last thing you read.

Your phone screen goes black as you feel the smack of your cheek hitting the cold wood and the sound of your friend rushing over to you, shaking your shoulders.

The urgency in her actions is palpable, a silent scream in the air.

Your friend calls your name over and over again, repeating it with more desperation each time, sobbing as she attempts to shake you awake.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she curses; your body is still, skin hot to the touch. "She, she won't wake up," her voice is shaky and frantic as she shakes you again, begging you to wake up. She snaps her head to whoever is close to her, her eyes filled with fear and desperation.

"Call 911. Now."

"Female, early to mid 20s, unresponsive. Found at a party with signs of possible drug ingestion," a paramedic shouts, rushing you in on a stretcher into the ER as a nurse materializes at your side, the urgency palpable in the air.

Your friend follows close behind, mascara running down her cheeks as she frantically tries to see you.

"What the…oh shit," Langdon exclaims, his shock evident as he moves quickly from behind the triage desk, his gaze shifting from you, looking lifeless, strapped onto a gurney, to Abbott's daughter hot on the paramedic's trail, sobs escaping her.

"Frank. Oh my God," she cries out, rushing over to him. "Please. You, you need to help her. They're, they're saying she was drugged," she stutters, hands moving messily through her hair.

"Hey, hey. Calm down, okay?" He puts his hands up, eyes searching her frantic eyes. "Tell me what happened," he says, now rushing over to you.

"I'm, I'm not sure," she heaves out as Langdon comes to your side, pulling your eyelids up to look at your pupils. "I turned around for a se, second then I heard her hit the ground."

"Dilated pupils. No sign of head trauma," he says, his voice urgent, his actions swift. "Let's move her to the north side, room 27," he turns, gesturing for Whitaker, whose eyes curiously stare at what is unfolding. "Whitaker, with me," he supplies, tipping him towards you. "Did she take anything?"

"No. Not that I know of," your friend sputters, her concern palpable, hot on Langdon's trail as he moves with you to the room, Whittaker following close behind. "She just drank."

"Drank what?" He asked promptly. "Let's get her on a monitor and start an IV with naloxone." He directs the nurse before looking at your shell-shocked friend. "What did she drink?"

Your eyes widen, and you search for the right words. "Um…vo, vodka and tequila…with Everclear," you manage to say, your voice trembling with shock.

"Yikes. Sounds like a bad night waiting to happen," he comments with a wince as he starts pushing the naloxone into the IV catheter. "Whitaker, go get Robby and Abbott. They're gonna wanna be here," he says, not looking up.

"Need her BP, pulse, and oxygen saturation. Let's get a tox screen, too," Langdon says urgently, not missing a beat.

"BP's 90/60, pulse is 110, oxygen saturation's 92% on room air," The nurse supplies.

Langdon cringes. "Let's give her some oxygen and start another IV with 1 liter of normal saline wide open. Need to do a CT scan of her head so that we can rule out intracranial hemorrhage," he continues, assessing you as your friend anxiously waits by the door. "Where the hell are Robby and Abbott?"

"What's going on?" Dr. Robby moves in, following Whitaker, with Abbott close behind Robby.

Dr. Abbott turns to see his daughter sobbing near the door as they all flood in.

"Came in unresponsive. Possible drug ingestion," Langdon eyes flick between Robby and Abbott. "Robby...it's your daughter."

Dr. Robby's eyes widen, twisting his head, issuing a curse as he moves into action. "Fuck—what the hell did she take?"He spits, looking around, and his eyes land on your friend.

"I don't, I don't know," her voice trembles with fear. "I, I just looked away for a second, and then I heard her hit the floor," she turns to Dr. Abbott, chest heaving. "She, she looked...so lifeless, Dad," she cries out. "I, I thought—" she trails off as Jack brings her into his arms.

"Shh," Jack holds his daughter as she sobs. "It'll, it'll be okay."

Jack wants to rush over to your side, heal you, then ambush you with a kiss.

But he can't.

Not now, anyway.

"Where's the cardiac monitor? Get the God-damn monitor on her!" Dr. Robby's voice echoes with urgency, his mind racing frantically. "Were you watching each other? How did this happen?" He blurts out a million different, unimportant questions in the heat of the moment.

All he can focus on is your lifeless body right in front of him.

"Robby...Robby," Langdon raises his voice. "Look at me," he pleads; Robby's eyes move to Langdon, with a deep exhale through his nose. "You need to calm down and treat your daughter," he says, his head nodding as he speaks. "Save her first; ask those questions later."

Dr. Robby sucks in a deep breath giving Langdon a nod before turning his attention back to you. "Whitaker, push in another dose of naloxone," he directs.

Whitaker nods, pushing in a second dose of the medicine.

Everyone stands around you, anxiously waiting for you to wake.

Jack releases a shaky breath as he holds his daughter, mind already imagining the worst.

You spring awake, eyes wide and bright with a gasp, a sudden surge of relief washing over the room.

"Oh my God," your friend rushes to your side, grabbing your hand to ensure you're real. "You saved her," she turns to Whitaker.

"I just—" Whittaker starts before your friend pulls him right against her, pressing a messy kiss to his cheek, smearing lipstick on his skin.

"Thank you so much," she mumbles into him, her voice choked with emotion as she pulls away to hug you, her gratitude palpable.

“I’m, I’m alright,” your voice is barely above a whisper, betraying your vulnerability as your friend steps aside for your dad's embrace.

"You're never leaving me again, kid," he half-jokes, his voice filled with relief and a hint of fear, hugging you tightly.

You can't help but laugh, your eyes meeting Jack's, who's staring at you with such intensity.

You open your mouth to call him over, but he leaves the room.

He dissipates, as does the protest on your tongue.

"Let me get you some water," Dr. Robby kisses the top of your head, tilting his head toward Langdon to follow him out, leaving only you, your friend, and Whitaker in the room.

He's charting something when your friend moves next to him; her steps are careful, and her voice is a gentle murmur.

"I meant it, you know? Thanks for helping her," she smiles at him, eyes softening as she sees the lipstick mark still on his cheek. "You're gonna be a great doctor."

He gives her a smile, the tips of his ears going red from nerves. "I, well, yeah…than, thanks," he stutters, pretending to write something down.

"It's cute how nervous you get," she smiles, rocking on her heels.

His eyes widen. "Sorry, I, I have another patient," he says, avoiding her gaze and walking to the door.

She giggles as he walks out the door, bumping into the doorway as he exits. His face turns bright red as he turns to go in the complete wrong direction.

"I'm glad you're using my passing out as a means to meet cute guys," you say groggily, humor in your tone.

Your friend's eyes widen. "I would never—"

"I'm kidding. Whitaker is the only guy I don't think any dad would object to. He's super sweet. Would be a good match for you," you simply say.

"He's nice, yeah," she agrees, her face warming with a playful blush.

"He's really nice," you correct. "And he wants to be a doctor," you release a breath. "Might as well marry him on the spot," you joke.

She lets out a laugh before coming over to you. "You're okay?"

You nod your head. "I'm okay."

Dr. Robby comes in, walks over to hand you the cup of water, and then turns to your friend. "Honey, the police want to ask you some questions," he begins. "I can come with you."

She nods, lightly squeezing your hand before moving in front of your dad to walk out the door.

You sit up and see Jack hovering outside. "Jack, can you wait with her?" Dr. Robby murmurs to him.

He nods, coming in and slowly closing the door behind him.

"Jack..." You can already feel your throat clogging and want to die from embarrassment.

How could this have happened to you?

You've always been so careful.

"I'm, I'm here, sweetheart," he says, pulling up a chair next to your bed before sitting in it to hold your hand.

"I, I don't remember anything," you start, tears clinging to your lashes. "Do you know what happened to me?"

He hesitates for a moment, squeezing your hand tighter. "Think you were drugged."

Your eyes widen. "Dru, drugged?" You stumble over your words, unable to comprehend what he said. "Like someone spiked my, my drink?" The shock of the revelation hits you like a wave, leaving you struggling to process the information.

He gives you a weak nod. "Most likely."

You sink into the bed, tongue coming to lick your dry lips before the tears start pouring down your cheeks. "I, I can't believe it. I could have—" you start, eyesight blurring from your tears, chest beginning to heave. In this moment, you feel more vulnerable than you ever have before.

Jack pulls you into his arms, your tears pooling on his scrubs. You're trembling with fear, and his embrace is the only thing calming you.

"I got you, sweetheart," he murmurs. "You're safe now."

You press your face into his chest, salty tears coating your lips, his embrace offering you immense comfort.

"I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

author's mini note: he would so talk you through it...

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kiwriteswords · 6 months ago

Note

Jealous Angsty Hotch is my favorite

Envy is the bond between the hopeful and the damned [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 3.1k|| AN: I am so sorry this one took me so long!

Tags/Warnings: jealous Hotch, bombshell reader, flirtatious Derek, canon-typical themes, canon-typical injuries, angst, argument, established relationship, secret relationship, BAU reader, undercover operation

Summary: Aaron Hotchner never considered himself a possessive man. He was on board to keep his relationship with you a secret, that was...until Derek Morgan increasingly got under his skin with his flirtatious comments toward you.

Aaron Hotchner was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve. His stoic demeanor and calculated expressions were hallmarks that defined him both as the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit and as a man who guarded his private life fiercely.

Yet, despite his best efforts to keep his emotions under wraps, recent developments were challenging his usual composure.

You had been part of the BAU team for a couple of years now, blending seamlessly into the fabric of the group with your sharp analytical mind and equally sharp wit. You were undeniably beautiful—a fact that had not escaped the notice of the team, especially Derek Morgan. Morgan, with his charming smile and flirtatious banter, had always found a way to make his admiration for you known. The team often teased you about being 'Morgan's type,' laughter and light jests filling the air around such comments. Initially, Hotch had found it amusing, a harmless part of team dynamics. But things had changed.

Lately, his feelings for you had deepened into something more profound, something private and intensely personal. The two of you had started seeing each other outside of work, cautiously at first, but with growing seriousness. It was a secret affair, hidden behind closed doors and knowing glances that only the two of you could interpret.

However, Morgan's casual flirtations were starting to stir a feeling Hotch was unaccustomed to—jealousy. Today, during a brief downtime in the bullpen, Morgan had sauntered over to your desk, leaning close enough that his voice was exclusively yours to hear.

"Hey, pretty lady, how about we grab dinner tonight? My treat," Morgan suggested, his smile broad and inviting. The team perked up, the usual teasing poised on the tips of their tongues.

You looked up at him, your expression a mix of amusement and mild irritation, a look Hotch knew all too well. "Derek, you know I appreciate the offer, but I've got plans already," you replied, your voice steady but gentle, trying not to bruise his ego.

Morgan raised an eyebrow, his smile faltering just a bit. "Oh, come on, you always have plans. When are you gonna give me a chance?" he half-joked, half-serious—a tone that didn't go unnoticed by Hotch, who was watching the exchange from his office with a frown creasing his brow.

Garcia chimed in, passing through, her voice carrying across the room. "Morgan, you better watch out; maybe our girl here has a secret love we don't know about!"

The team laughed, and you blushed, glancing unintentionally up towards Hotch's office. Hotch's heart skipped, his own feelings mirrored in your fleeting look. It was these moments that he cherished—these brief, shared seconds where the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. Yet, it was also these moments that fueled his growing unease at Morgan's attentions.

Later that day, when the team was wrapping up, Hotch found you alone in the break room. He approached quietly, his demeanor serious. "Do you ever think," he began, pausing to choose his words carefully, "that it might be time to let the team in on... us?"

You looked surprised, a spoonful of coffee halfway to your lips. For a moment, Hotch looked at your lips, and that’s all he could think about--an effect only you had on him.

"I... Aaron, are you sure? It's been nice, just the two of us knowing. It feels like something just ours."

"I know," Hotch admitted, his voice low. "But seeing Morgan today, how he—"

You reached out, placing a hand over his. "Aaron, Derek is just being Derek. It doesn’t change how I feel about us. But if it’s important to you, maybe it’s time."

Hotch nodded, appreciating your reassurance. "Let's think about it a bit more," he decided, his hand turning under yours to squeeze it gently.

But life got in the way, and the time to “talk about it” wasn’t there.

The next case had been grueling—a string of violent robberies across Virginia that had escalated into a hostage situation by the time the BAU was called in. Tensions were high as the team worked tirelessly to profile the unsub and predict his next move. You and Derek had been on site, working to establish a perimeter, when the unsub unexpectedly made a desperate, violent break, catching everyone off guard.

During the chaos, you had been hurt—an injury that seemed minor at first but was soon revealed to be more serious when you collapsed from a hidden stab wound you had sustained while trying to subdue the suspect. Derek, who had been by your side during the takedown, was riddled with guilt and insisted on accompanying you to the hospital, his protective nature in full display.

Hotch, meanwhile, was left to coordinate the wrap-up of the case, his leadership duties anchoring him to the scene. As much as he wanted to be by your side, his responsibilities as Unit Chief made it impossible for him to leave immediately. The knowledge that Derek was there with you, while he could not be, stirred a tumult of emotions within him—jealousy, frustration, and a fierce protectiveness that was unusual in its intensity.

By the time Hotch arrived at the hospital, you were already being patched up, Derek hovering nearby, his worry palpable. Hotch's arrival was quiet, his eyes immediately seeking you out in the busy emergency room. You looked pale, the pain evident in your eyes, but you managed a weak smile when you saw him.

"Aaron," you murmured, relief coloring your tone. Derek stepped aside, giving Hotch space to come closer, but his presence lingered, heavy and unmissable.

Hotch nodded to Derek briefly before turning his full attention to you. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice low, a controlled calm masking the storm of emotions inside him.

"It hurts, but they said I'll be fine," you replied, trying to ease the worry in his eyes.

Derek chimed in, "She was incredible, Hotch. Took the unsub down like a pro, just got caught with a bad angle." He turned to you, “Glad I was here to hold her hand though when they patched her up.”

Hotch's jaw tightened at Derek's words, his gaze flicking briefly to him before returning to you. "I'm just glad you're okay," he said, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently, a silent message of support and something more, something only you could understand.

Derek, a profiler after all, picking up on the subtle interplay of looks between you and Hotch, excused himself to give you some privacy, though his glance back as he left spoke volumes of his continued concern. Alone now, Hotch's expression softened.

"This thing with Derek..." Hotch began, hesitating as he searched for the right words. "Does it bother you? His attention?"

You shook your head slightly, wincing from the movement. "It's just Derek being Derek. I don't encourage it, Aaron. You know where my heart lies."

Hotch's features relaxed at your words, his thumb stroking the back of your hand gently. "I know," he admitted. "It's just hard, not being able to show... not being able to tell everyone that you're mine."

The possessiveness in his tone surprised you both, a stark contrast to his usual reserved nature. You squeezed his hand, understanding the depth of his feelings, the struggle it was for him to even voice them.

"Aaron, maybe it's time," you suggested softly. "Maybe it's time we don't have to hide anymore."

Hotch nodded, the idea settling into his thoughts like a weight lifted. "Let's talk about it when you're out of here. For now, just focus on getting better. That's what matters to me the most."

You both should have known--with your busy schedules, you might as well block out a scheduled meeting time and place it on the bureau-wide calendar to set up a time to talk.

While on the next case, the briefing room buzzed with discussion as the team reviewed the details of the new case. It was a standard undercover operation, one that required a couple to infiltrate a high-end social circle.

The unsub targeted women at exclusive parties, and the BAU needed a pair to blend in. Derek and you fit the profile perfectly—both attractive, confident, and capable of playing the roles effortlessly. The physical descriptions between the two of you were an ideal match as well.

But Aaron Hotchner hated the idea. Like absolutely hated this idea.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Hotch said firmly, arms crossed as he addressed the team. “We don’t know enough about the unsub’s habits to ensure their safety. There are too many variables.”

Rossi tilted his head, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. “Hotch, the profile’s clear. Physically, they’re perfect. A couple in their late twenties to mid-thirties. Derek and her fit the bill. You’re overthinking this.”

JJ added, her tone light but pointed, “And honestly, it’s not like we have many other options. No offense, Rossi, but you’d stick out like a sore thumb.”

Rossi smirked. “I could charm my way through it if I had to.”

Hotch wasn’t amused. “It’s a security risk,” he said, ignoring the banter. His eyes shifted to you across the room, catching the subtle glance you threw his way. It was a look only he could decipher—a quiet reassurance, a silent message that you understood his concerns. But it did little to ease the growing tension in his chest.

“Hotch,” Emily chimed in, her voice cutting through his thoughts. “We’ve done riskier operations. She and Derek can handle this. Don’t you trust them?”

It wasn’t a question of trust. It was the idea of watching Derek, whose flirtations were already a sore spot, act like he was yours. It churned in Hotch’s gut, a raw, irrational frustration he struggled to suppress.

“Fine,” he said sharply, his tone curt as he relented. “But we keep constant surveillance, and the moment it looks like the situation is escalating, we pull them out.”

The room relaxed as the team moved on to logistics, but Hotch remained stiff, his jaw clenched as he tried to focus on the operation instead of the storm brewing inside him.

The operation started smoothly. Derek and you slipped into your roles with ease, playing the part of a glamorous couple navigating the lavish party scene. Derek’s hand rested on the small of your back as you laughed softly at something he said, your body language exuding the confidence and charm required for the role. A confidence you brought forward even in your real life.

Hotch watched from the surveillance van, his tension palpable. He hadn’t looked away from the monitors since the operation began, his eyes tracking your every move. Derek leaned in close, whispering something in your ear, and you tilted your head toward him with a smile. It was fake—Hotch knew that. But it still set his teeth on edge.

“Hotch, you okay?” Emily asked, her voice gentle but curious. She’d noticed his rigidity, the way his hand hovered over the comms button as if he were ready to intervene at a moment’s notice. He was hyper-focused on every detail, practically looking for a reason to shut this down.

“I’m fine,” he replied tersely, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“Uh-huh,” Emily murmured, unconvinced but wisely choosing not to push.

When the operation concluded, and the unsub was apprehended, the team regrouped back at the precinct. Hotch’s mood had not improved. If anything, it had worsened.

Watching Derek touch you, hold your hand, and lean into your personal space—even for the sake of the mission—had been unbearable. It was irrational, he knew, but his emotions felt like a live wire sparking inside him.

“Well, that was fun,” Derek said, clapping you on the shoulder as the team settled into the conference room. “You were a natural out there.”

You laughed lightly, though your eyes flicked to Hotch, who stood stiffly at the edge of the room, arms crossed and jaw tight.

“Thanks, Derek,” you said, your tone kind but dismissive. You could tell something was wrong—Hotch hadn’t looked at you since the operation ended, and the air around him practically crackled with tension.

You walked over to him, keeping your voice low so the others wouldn’t hear. “Hotch, are you okay? You’ve been quiet.”

Hotch’s eyes finally met yours, dark and stormy. “I’m fine,” he said curtly, his tone sharper than you’d expected.

You flinched slightly at his words, confusion flickering across your face. “Aaron—”

“I said I’m fine,” he snapped, his voice louder now, drawing the attention of the rest of the team. The room went silent, everyone exchanging bewildered glances. Even Derek looked taken aback.

Hotch exhaled sharply, realizing he’d let his emotions slip. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving you standing there, stunned and embarrassed.

You caught up to him in the hallway, your heels clicking against the linoleum as you quickened your pace. “Hotch!” you called, your voice firm. “Aaron, stop!”

He did, reluctantly, turning to face you. His expression was a mix of anger and something deeper—something raw and vulnerable.

“What the hell was that?” you demanded, crossing your arms as you glared up at him. “You snapped at me in front of everyone. Do you have any idea how unprofessional that was?”

“I know,” he admitted, his voice quieter now but no less tense. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Then why did you?” you pressed, stepping closer. “What’s going on with you?”

Hotch looked away, his jaw tightening again. “I didn’t like seeing you with Derek,” he admitted after a long pause. “I didn’t like him touching you, acting like—”

“Like what?” you interrupted, your tone softening as understanding dawned. “Like we were a couple? We were undercover!”

He nodded, his gaze finally meeting yours. “It’s irrational, I know. But I hated it. I hated every second of it.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, despite the tension between you. “Aaron, it was just a role. You know that.”

“I do,” he said, stepping closer. “But that doesn’t change how I feel. I never thought of myself as a possessive man, but with you... I wouldn’t mind if the world knew you were mine.”

You stared at him for a moment, your expression softening as you placed a hand on his chest. “Then maybe it’s time they do. We keep saying it.”

Hotch’s shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, the weight of his emotions finally easing. “Maybe it is,” he agreed, his hand covering yours. “But first, I owe you an apology.”

“You do,” you said teasingly, though your tone was gentle. “And you might want to apologize to Derek, too. He looked like a kicked puppy.”

Hotch sighed, a faint smile breaking through his grumpy demeanor. “One step at a time.”

And that one step at a time was forgoing every other responsibility until this conversation happened. What came from that was the decision and action to tell the rest of the team.

After updating your supportive coworkers, Hotch watched you move around his bedroom with a contented ease that warmed his heart.

You had just slipped into one of his shirts, the fabric hanging loosely on your frame—a sight that never failed to stir something deep within him. As you began brushing your hair in front of the dresser mirror, he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, still processing the team's reactions from earlier that day.

"They took it better than I expected," Hotch commented, breaking the comfortable silence. His tone was reflective, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he recalled the varying expressions of surprise and support from the team.

You turned to face him, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "I think Garcia already had a betting pool going for when we'd finally admit it," you teased, setting the brush down. "Though I'm pretty sure Derek was the most relieved to have it out in the open."

Hotch's expression darkened momentarily at the mention of Derek, recalling the tension of the past weeks. "Relieved isn't the word I'd use."

"Oh?" You walked over to him, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Are you sure it wasn't just because you stopped glaring daggers at him every time he came near me?"

"I was not glaring," Hotch countered, though a faint smile betrayed his defensive tone. "It was strategic observation."

"Strategic observation?" You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Is that what we're calling jealousy these days?"

Hotch sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching upward as he placed his hands on your waist. "I was concerned, not jealous. As your unit chief, I had to make sure he was remaining professional."

"Concerned," you echoed, nodding exaggeratedly. "Concerned enough to nearly have a coronary every time Derek played his part a bit too convincingly."

"I did not—"

You cut him off with a quick peck on the lips, silencing his protest. "You know, I thought it was kind of hot," you whispered, your voice low and teasing.

"Hot?" Hotch raised an eyebrow, his hands tightening slightly on your waist.

"Mmm," you hummed in affirmation. "Seeing you get all possessive. I half expected you to mark your territory somehow. Maybe a tattoo on my forehead that says 'Property of Hotch.'"

Hotch laughed, the sound rich and genuine. "I think a tattoo might be a bit excessive, but maybe they could add a spot on your badge," he conceded, making you laugh. His eyes softened with affection. "But I can't deny that the idea of everyone knowing you're with me doesn't have its appeal."

"I could see it in your eyes," you continued, playful and light. "One more flirty comment from Derek, and you might have started a BAU brawl."

"I would have handled it professionally," Hotch assured you, his voice laced with mock seriousness.

"Of course," you agreed, a twinkle in your eye. "Professionally pinning Derek to the ground in a fit of 'strategic observation.'"

Hotch shook his head, his smile lingering as he leaned in to kiss you gently. "I'm just glad we don't have to hide anymore," he murmured against your lips.

"Me too," you replied, your voice soft. "No more secrets. Just us."

"Just us," Hotch repeated, pulling you closer. The weight of the secrets they'd carried felt lifted, and as he held you in his arms, the quiet of the night wrapping around them, Aaron Hotchner felt a profound sense of peace settle over him. Here, in this moment, with you, everything was exactly as it should be.

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016 @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry

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melinoelliones · 1 year ago

Text

Jax NSFW Alphabet

I don't even know how I managed to forget to do his NSFW Alphabet... So anyways here it isss

Jax - Heat Part 2 is coming btw!!! It's almost done. Click here to read Jax Heat Part 1 if you haven't read already!

What I think he would do may not align with what YOU think he would do! I have tried to make this mostly gender neutral but I fear I slipped a bit of x Fem Reader is there. Also sorry for the ugly banner, his png's aren't great lmao.

My writing skills have fallen off since I've been off for like what 2 months, but I am working on getting better!!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Jax is the type to talk over what you guys just did in bed, maybe mock you a bit but it always follows up with him smothering you in kisses and ass grabs. His large grin shows as he pulls you closer knowing you get embarrassed when he mocks you.

“?!&% ?!&% ?!&%, feels so good” he moans out, mocking your previous words as you hide your head into his chest in hopes that you’ll disappear from this world. “I’m just kidding babe, you’re so hot when you do it. Lets me know i’m doing it right yanno” he jested, slapping his hand against your ass before pulling you tighter into his chest.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Jax likes his hands the most. Them in contrast to your body drives him crazy, and seeing his fingers in you is insane.

His favourite part of you would be your stomach or thighs for sure. He’s a thighs guy, what can I say. When you and the guys are hanging out, he is 100% sitting with his head on your thighs or just between your legs like its nothing.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Anywhere and everywhere. He loves to cover you in it, your perfect body being defiled by his cum is everything to him. Only he gets to do that to you, you’re his property and he can do whatever he wants with it.

He also just likes filling you with it, after rounds and rounds he gets to watch it slowly try and seep out of your precious holes.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He enjoys watching you get off, he could sit and watch like it was a tv show. Bonus points if he can guide you through it, making you edge yourself until you ignore his commands and he has to come over and punish you.

His oral fixation comes in waves, having your tits in his mouth is like heaven. He will never tell a single soul that, even you, but we all know it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

A part of me wants to say that in the outside world he’s a raging virgin, now he’s in the circus so he can just go crazy.

But another part of me wants to say he’s super experienced, but he’s never been with someone like you. Not even in a stereotypical way, but he’s just not usually into you as a type.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Mutual masterbation where ya’ll are side by side. From time to time he’ll just slide his free hand over to your body and play with it too.

Doggy but he’s so unserious with it. He’ll put his foot up by your head to make sure to get as deep as he can into you.

Cowgirl/riding and reverse cowgirl for sure. His hands are so large that they can carry your body with ease, so being in these positions means when he wants me he can just place them above your hips and slam you into him. Then he gets to watch your stomach bulge out with each stroke and your face contort.

“?!&%, well would you look at that” Jax hissed, skimming his fingertips across your stretched skin as he took in the sight of the bulge protruding from your stomach.

Jax let out a small chuckle before grabbing your hand and placing it over the hump, “you feel that doll? You feel how full you are hmm?”. Your glossy eyes glanced into his as he began to thrust into you, your palm rising and falling with each one.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He can be humorous but most times I don’t even think it’s intentional.

Like if he was to say “woahhh, easy there tiger. If you go that fast you’ll cum before me, and you know that's not allowed”. I’d probably laugh but he’s dead serious.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Canonically… probably none.

To ME, he wouldn’t care to keep himself trimmed up nice. It’s a bit crazy down there but I don’t care.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He can be both super romantic and just zoned in.

“?!&% babe keep going, my cock feels so good in that pretty throat of yours”

“Oh you poor thing, are you tired? But I’m not finished with you yet, so looks like we have a little bit longer to go”

“You’re mine, my personal fuck toy remember? So come over here, let me use your body for a bit”

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Why would he get off himself when he has you? You can fulfill every need and more at any given time.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dacryphilia for sure, he mocks you for crying but he want more always

“Are you crying?” he cooed, grinning as he looked down at your sweet face, your tears mixing with your saliva at the corners of your lips.

“Awww you poor thing, bit off more than you can chew did we? Better finish off what you started, you’re doing so well, I’ll make sure to paint that pretty little throat of yours white” Jax growled, caressing your damp lower face with his hand and sliding his cock deeper down your throat, your gargles slowly inching him closer and closer to ecstasy. That and the fact he could see you rubbing your thighs together for your own enjoyment.

Overstimulation and edging for sure, he’s the ultimate tease. There are days he will make you edge yourself over and over again until you can’t any longer, just to then take over and overstimulate you till your body is a mess.

Free use and CNC 100% You guys have nothing but spare time, so having you at his disposal at all times is perfect. He doesn’t care the location, who’s around or who could come around. If he wants it, he’ll have it, and everyone else will have to deal with it.

“B~But Gangle is looking for us J~Jax”, “So? Why the hell do I care? That crybaby won’t say a word regardless. I want to fill you up right here and now n no one will stop me from doing so” he vowed, unbuckling his overalls with one hand and leaning you over the railing with the other.

L = Location (favourite places to do they do)

Anywhere, he legit does not care where. He does enjoy public places though as he enjoys watching your nervous face when you hear the others roaming around, and he gets to feel you clench around him as they get closer due to fear.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You being a brat, he likes to fuck the brat out of you.

Also just when you’re super needy, your body listens well when it wants something.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Toys on himself, he really isn’t into it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Is it bad if I say his preference is receiving? Not saying he doesn’t give, but he prefers to get head.

“Ugh fine, stop with the frowning already and come over here before I change my mind” Jax huffed, rolling his eyes as he gestured for you to go to him. Sometimes he would act as if he didn’t want it, but he thoroughly enjoyed having you on his face, your thighs encasing his face as he got to play with you.

“Remember dollface, I’m the one in control here, so I’ll have you here until all you can focus on is my tongue against you”

He enjoys head, so much so that he just has to fuck you after every time.

“?!&% you did so good, so ?!&%ing good baby” he breathlessly huffed, tangling a large portion of your hair into his hand and sliding you off of his dripping cock, a mixture of spit and cum still connecting you to it as he yanked you up.

Before you could even really comprehend what was going on, your lips met his, resulting in the neediest of kisses. You hadn’t even had a chance to take a breath before, both of your hands now roughly exploring eachothers bodies, you both wanted nothing more than to be one.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Both. Sometimes he just needs to be balls deep in you, crashing into you with no remorse. Other times he likes to take it slow and and make sure you feel every touch.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Daily. Not much else to do is there.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

All the time, again, y'all have endless time so why not?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go like 4-5 rounds back to back, others just 2 but a load of oral in between.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

On you he loves them, especially the vibes. Making you have one on you while you guys are with the others is like entertainment for him. Having to watch you squirm in silence while the others stare, oblivious as to why you're so antsy.

“Are you okay? You’re acting like Pomni right now?”, “They’re fineeee, aren’t you? Go on, tell them” Jax jested, turning up the vibe as you went to open your mouth, knowing full well you wouldn’t be able to form a straight sentence with it that high.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

To the point that it could drive one insane.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He isn’t too loud but he likes to dirty talk, he knows it turns you on.

“Does my cock feel that good? You’re drooling”

“Go on, cum on this cock. Make sure everyone knows it’s yours”

“You think Caine can see us right now hmm? Lets put on one hell of a show for him, I know he probably has one hell of a filthy mind. If he didn’t, wouldn’t he have stopped up by now?”

“You’re so ?!&%ing lucky I can’t breed you in this place”

“Do you want the others to hear you? Because you aren’t too good at holding your tongue”

“I’m gonna fill you up nice and good, only I can violate this, it’s mine”

“Stop covering your mouth, I need to hear how well I fuck you”

W = Wild card (a random dirty headcanon for the character)

He wants to watch you fuck someone else, just so he can see how pathetic they are at making you feel good. Only he can make you cum, only he knew your sweet spots and what you liked. You’re practically molded to him, you are his and no one will compare, but he wants to watch someone try.

Jax watched as one of the NPC’s he had snuck in frantically fucking you, your fake moans only making him sigh heavily in the chair at the end of the bed. He was almost getting annoyed at the fact that this NPC was barely even trying, he was just using your body at this point.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make sure you actually cum” Jax reassured, caressing your cheek before making his way to your legs, “A* for effort but you’re done” he scowled, shoving the NPC aside before he could even consider defiling your body any further.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Its girthy and long. It took you a long time to get use to, but now nothing else can satisfy you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It can go from wanting it everyday to just tired of it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

It can be pretty instant after the aftercare, but even while asleep his body still pulls you into him for security.

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coco-loco-nut · 1 year ago

Text

Iconic

pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

summary: you make it your life goal to embarrass Oscar and annoy him, keeping things fun in his life

masterlist

———————————

“He’s so cute,” a girl sighs in the McLaren fan zone.

“He really is,” you smile, leaning against the barrier.

“Oh my god, hi!” the girl gasps, recognizing you from your boyfriend’s Instagram. You haven’t had social media since you were cyber bullied in middle school, so you were a mystery to his fans. It also let you go to fan zone and have fun with them. You also run a fan page for Oscar on Instagram.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind that I am standing here?” you say, holding a folded poster in one of your hand and an arm full of friendship bracelets that Oscar helped you make.

“Not at all, oh my god. Sorry, it’s just that you are so iconic,” the girl says and you quirk your eyebrow.

“How so?”

“You don’t have social media which is iconic, but all the fans know how nice you are, and you are always hanging out with us here,” one of her friends say, you nod along.

“Of course I would be here, I gotta support Papaya boys,” you smile. “Wanna help me embarrass Osc?” you ask the group around you.

“It would legit be our honor,” the one laughs, you laugh with her.

“Here,” you take off some friendship bracelets and exchange them with the girls.

“You are the best WAG,” another girl says and you blush a little, dutifully putting on each bracelet.

“I really do try. I even run a fan account for Osc,” you laugh, not revealing more than that.

“No way, that’s actually icon behavior,” the first girl says and you grin.

“Want to see the sign?” you ask, excited to show your latest sign off. Oscar tried to look but you refused to even work on it until he left the hotel.

“Yes!” you are quick to unfold the sign. Your neat handwriting carefully placed each letter just large enough so Oscar could read it.

“Omg, I can’t wait to see his reaction,” one of the fans say, the area is brimming full now, ready for the drivers to come out in a couple minutes.

“Make sure you get pictures of his reaction, he’s so cute when he’s embarrassed,” you giggle, getting ready to hold the sign in front of you as Lando walk onto the stage, excited to see what you wrote this time. He reads it and laughs, turning towards where Oscar is entering. You watch his brows furrow as he reads it. Oscar- I want to eat you up like a pastry :). The Australian’s face turns bright red as he laughs and winks at you, trying to hide his awkward embarrassment at the pickup line. It wasn’t your best, but it was the perfect amount of cringe. Lando gives you a thumbs up from the stage.

“You were right, his face was priceless,” the fan says as you watch Oscar push back his mousy brown hair before putting the hat back on. You swear you might be drooling while watching him, but you catch his gaze falling on you too.

“I LOVE YOU OSCAR!” you yell as he waves goodbye to the fans, giving you a wink. You make sure all of your friendship bracelets are given away before thanking the fans for being cool about you chilling with them. You head back to the paddock, scanning your pass, and beelining to the McLaren motorhome.

“Y/n, can I have that sign?” Lando asks and you happily hand it over.

“As long as you don’t use it to steal my man, have at it,” you chuckle as the Brit hugs you in thanks before walking away.

“Eat me like a pastry?” Oscar gives you an amused smile. “You do know my parents watch that, right?” His favorite thing about you his your playfulness, you can be serious when needed, but your teasing and jests keep his life fun.

“Oh, I know, your mom helped me with that one, the fans loved it too,” you laugh. “You did look so hot up there,” you slightly exaggerate checking him out.

“Why don’t we go back to my drivers room and you show me how you’d like to eat me?” Oscar whispers in your ear, trying to seduce you, but you resist.

“Oh, I’d probably start with the thighs, best muscle to fat ratio in my opinion. Hm, now I’m kinda hungry, what is in hospitality?” you ask, moving towards the food area. Oscar wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you back towards him as he picks you up to carry you to his room.

“Nope, don’t start things you can’t finish,” he says, clearly a little hot and bothered.

“Osc, I’m not a cannibal, I don’t actually eat humans,” you tease, not giving up on what you started. Oscar clearly had a different interpretation, maybe the right one, maybe not.

“Shut up before I make you shut up,” Oscar growls in your ear, quickly turning you on and making you drop the joke.

“Yes, Mister Piastri,” you say, knowing it’s affect on him as he drags you into his room, locking the door behind him. Oscar was a couple minutes late to his meeting, Lando holding back giggles as Oscar walks into the room.

“I see the fans aren’t the only ones who love Y/n,” Lando whispers to Oscar, who shoots him a glare. Meanwhile, you scroll Instagram using your fan page, laughing as some of them post the pic of you and the sign, the comments calling on your to reveal yourself via the fan page. You make a post about it as well just to blend in, thirsting over Oscar as well. You can’t imagine if he ever finds out about the account.

“Good luck, Osc. Drive safe,” you kiss him before he puts his helmet on.

“I am always safe,” he gives you his usual awkward smile, you smile back as he puts his helmet on. He squeezes your hand before walking over to the car. You take a seat in the garage, the headphones unflattering as always.

Your stomach drops as there is a crash late in the race, but you are instantly relieved when you realize that Oscar made in through and no one was hurt. He ends up in P2 for the race and you join the team in celebrating at the podium.

“Thank you for being my number one fan, even when you run a secret fan account,” Oscar hugs you in his drivers room.

“How? What?” you play if off but he just laughs, pulling out his phone.

“My private account follows you,” oscar laughs, and you just stare at him.

“That’s actually you? I thought it was a fan,” you quickly pull out your phone and request to follow his account, which he immediately accepts so that you can see all the cute posts he makes about you.

“Stop, Osc, you’re basically running a fan account for me,” you say, admiring his posts, including one from today of you holding the sign. You quickly type a comment that has the other drivers replying like crazy claiming that they found your secret account.

“You two decent?” Mark Weber’s voice says through the door, after a confirmation from Oscar, he lets himself in.

“Why wouldn’t we be decent, Mark?” you ask from the couch.

“I used to be a driver too, and after your fan zone sign nothing is off the table,” Mark shrugs causing you and Oscar to blush. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you great race, I will see you in a few days,” Mark tells Oscar before leaving the room again. You still aren’t sure how Oscar was able to bag the former F1 driver as his manager. Oscar yawns and you notice how tired he is, sleepy Oscar is your favorite version of Oscar.

“Alright, let’s get you back to the hotel, first loser,” you tease, helping him gather his things to leave.

“Hey,” he groans at the jab.

“You could be Lando NoWins, my love,” turning your jests onto his teammate.

“That is true,” Oscar yawns, holding your hand as he leads you to his chauffeured car.

“Osc, would you marry me if I was a worm?”

“Who said I’d marry you at all?”

“Alright, that’s it, I’m deleting your fan page,” you pull out your phone. Oscar basically tackles you in the back seat as he lunges for the phone.

“I take it back, I’ll marry you right now if you want,” Oscar pleads.

“Who said I wanted to marry you? Do I look like a worm?” you retort, putting your phone away. Oscar just sighs in defeat.

“God gives is strongest people his greatest challenges, I’m not strong enough for this,” he groans a few seconds later, the tiredness setting in.

“Sorry, baby, I promise you will get unlimited cuddles when we get back to the room,” you smile softly, holding his hand tight.

“I love you,” he whispers, his beautiful brown eyes gazing into your eyes.

“I love you too.”

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris #unhinged behavior

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pia-nor481 · 11 months ago

Text

Dating Advice

Lando Norris x Reader x Daniel Ricciardo 18+

Lando is in desperate need of advice in securing a date. He does so, just not in the way he expected

6.8k words Masterlist

"Don't laugh at me. It's not funny." Lando groaned, pouring himself another drink. "It is a little bit. You're a rich formula one driver who many women think is attractive and you can't get a second date. Are you sure it's not your personality." Daniel jested, arms behind his head as he leant back on the bed. "I'm being serious, asking for dating advice and all I get back is you laughing in my face. Is that not a turn off for your girlfriend?" Lando pouted, bringing the glass to his lips. "Hey don't start on me. You don't know how long it look me to actually get a girlfriend; who, may I add, wasn't easy to win over." Daniel said, reaching for his beer on the night stand. "Oh really, like you had to work for it. Rich formula one driver." Lando was a little bitter, he hadn't been laid in months, and it wasn't from a lack of trying.

"Tell me what you're actually doing, maybe we can find the problem." Lando was convinced that he was meeting the wrong kind of woman. "Well, you know, usually I'd pick her up from her place, bring flowers...Don't act surprised I'm not evil. Go out to dinner, of course I pay, again I'm not evil, plus this is Monaco so it's kind of required of me...Then you know..." Lando trailed off, reaching for his drink, desperately trying to ease his nerves. "Are you kidding me. You really are a dog." Daniel laughed, almost choking on his beer. "I am not. You're acting like you weren't when you first started racing." The brit finally sat down sighing. "Not really, I didn't have much game back then. Plus, if that's how you're ending the night, why are you acting like you've not gotten any in months?" Lando just looked down at his glass, not acknowledging Daniel's presence in the slightest. "Oh my, you've slept with them all. Every eligible woman in Monaco you've already had sex with. What are you? Some streetwalker?" Lando's face contorted as he heard the Australian's voice, it didn't matter how the sentence was worded, it always sounded horrific. "Maybe. Look it's not that bad. I asked for advice didn't I? We've been friends for years. So...Help me, please." His voice almost whined in desperation. "It doesn't matter what advice I give you. There's no one left to exercise it on." Daniel laughed, getting up to grab another drink.

"Please don't ask me if I know any good doctors." Daniel muttered, looking to the side at Lando. "I don't have an STD. I'm a slut not an idiot." Lando crossed his arms as he spoke. "Good."

"Anyway, we know what you've done wrong. She is automatically assuming that she's just a hook up. You've created that idea. " Daniel stated with his hands back behind his head. "One good thing you're doing right is the flowers, the rest must come from what you say." Lando was slightly hurt, but he had to admit it now that his friend pointed it out, that he was the problem. "To be honest I don't really remember what I said." Lando muttered into his glass. "Enough to get her into bed clearly...Sorry that was a low blow." The Australian was quick to sip on the alcohol before beginning to speak again. "So one of the best things you can do is really get her talking, mostly about herself. But put in a few double questions if you will; a question specific enough that it gets a slightly personal or unique response but also generic enough that she can ask about you. But first you have to complement her, 'You look gorgeous tonight', 'Those earrings are really pretty', one thing I will say about jewellery, don't ask where it's from or where she got it in case it's a family thing and you know talking about dead relatives ain't great chat. Anyway make sure it's specific, if she's wearing a gold necklace make sure you mention it's gold, it shows that you're actually paying attention to her." Lando payed attention to every word that left Daniel's mouth, taking mental notes diligently.

"Then move onto DHA. Her dreams, hopes and aspirations. Trust me... panty peeler." Daniel stated like it was the simplest thing in the world. Lando shook his head slowly, trying to fathom how that would work in securing him a second date. "Seriously? What happened to not having game?" Lando said, astounded at Daniel's advice. "Hey, I have a girlfriend don't I? Plus it took six dates to even get her to my place so, I think I did pretty well." He spoke hand on his heart, clearly offended. "So, was it a panty peeler?" The brit rushed out, quickly downing the rest of his drink. Daniel rolled his eyes before speaking again. "Obviously, but definitely later than six dates. She wasn't easy." He was smiling just thinking about her. "Alright, don't rub it in."

"You know what?" Daniel started, almost jumping up from the bed. "You need to test your newfound knowledge." He slurred, stumbling slightly as he got up. They had been talking at Daniel's flat for hours, mostly about the recent Bills game and the next quadrant video, so talking for hours lead to plenty of alcohol. "What are you on about?" Lando wasn't particularly sober either, but that didn't stop his curiosity. "You need a fake date, where I can help guide you a bit." Lando's eyes widened hearing Daniel's proposal. "I'm not going out with you and you're girlfriend." Lando stated, shaking his head, he didn't drink as much as Daniel, he never did, but even he could tell that Daniel was in no state of mind for this conversation. "Nah man. We do it here. You can practice, get it right with some help, and maybe you can travel to Nice and find a lady there." It was clear Daniel was getting too excited about the thought. "I need to get home. We'll talk about this later."

When she came home from work the following morning she was surprised to find Daniel laying askew on the sofa. She made quick work in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water and looking for some pain killers. "Danny." She whispered, shaking him slightly. "Danny, wake up." He slowly began to stir, meeting her eyes with a smile. "Morning, Darling." He almost groaned, taking the water but not the pills. Exhaustion painted her face as she sat beside him, curious about the night he had.

"So, did you and Lando do anything interesting?" She spoke softly, mindful of the state Daniel is in. He bought his arm over her shoulder, pulling her into him before speaking. "Mostly stuff you've already heard from me or I know you don't really care for." She got up once again, not worried for her boyfriend anymore, and ventured back to the kitchen, desperate for a warm drink in what now was the morning. "But?" She asked as she opened the cupboards. "I found out he's slept with every single lady in Monaco, and possibly Nice, but he didn't say anything about the French." Daniel said as he got up, following her into the kitchen. "No." Her disbelief was apparent in her tone, even as Daniel slid his arms around her waist and mumbled a quiet 'I know' into her neck. Her cheeks warmed at the feeling. "So you spent hours talking to Lando about his love life?" She wanted to distract herself from the feeling of him against her, thinking about anything that would keep her thoughts away from the fact his cock was pushed against her ass. "Maybe a little bit of you...Anyway Lando was asking for a little bit of help with actually dating women." Daniel stole the mug out of her hand and took a sip, burning his tongue slightly. "Serves you right." She laughed, turning around in his grasp. "So what did you say?" She was curious, they spoke about past relationships before, Daniel mostly about his lack of them, so she was slightly shocked that Lando would go to her boyfriend for advice. In his younger days he was very focused on racing, to a point that he had no time for relationships, so at the time he was supposed to be learning the best way to woo a woman, his mind was filled with a steering wheel and how to use DRS. "Exactly what I did to win you over." His hands met her cheeks, pulling her in for a sweet kiss.

"How kind of you. Considering he has already been with every woman in Monaco, is he going to be traveling to find himself a girlfriend?" Upon hearing her statement Daniel become slightly nervous, perhaps asking his partner to go on a fake date with one of his best friends was not the best idea. "Well I may have made a suggestion." His hand left her waist and found the back of his neck rather quickly as his eyes shifted from her face. "I think Lando should practice before he travels to Italy to find a girlfriend." He said in a slightly higher tone. "Let me guess, you're brilliant idea was for me to be the date?" She pondered out loud. At this point she was really considering it, it didn't really have any impact in their relationship. So realistically what could go wrong? "Has Lando already agreed?" She asked with a small smile, easing Daniel's nerves slightly. "Not yet, I was pretty drunk when I suggested it, to be fair so was he, so maybe he doesn't even remember. We will see. The worst that can happen is he says no." A small shred of excitement ran through her. "Call him later, you know how long it takes him to get up after he's been drinking."

She went to bed both peaceful and enthused. She was hopeful that Lando says yes, and this quickly led to a spiral of questions: Where would they be? What would she wear? What was he going to ask her? How would she answer? It almost concerned her, she probably shouldn't be feeling so excited to go on a date, even if it was a pretend one, with her boyfriend's friend.

Daniel grabbed his phone almost immediately after she fell asleep. Lando struggled to pick up his phone while still laying in bed. Lando was smaller than Daniel so alcohol always hit him faster and for longer. "What do you want?" Lando groaned into the phone, eyes still closed. "That's no way to speak to the friend that secured you a practice date." Daniel huffed down the line, playfulness practically bubbling out of him. "Are you being serious? You actually remembered asking me to go on a date with your girlfriend, and have somehow convinced her?" Lando was both shocked and amused. He sat up slightly, running his hand through his curly hair. "I didn't actually do any convincing, if I'm honest she figured it out." The brit's jaw fell open slightly, not only did he not expect Daniel to remember, he especially didn't expect his girlfriend to agree. "When?" He we was unsure as to what made him ask, but if it was going to help him then it was a good idea. "Tomorrow night, around eight." Daniel spoke softly, not wanting to cause his friend anymore stress in an already immensely stressful situation. "Alright." He hung up and threw his phone back on the bed as he stood up. At this point in time he was mostly nervous and a little bit confused. There was a lot he needed to do before going to their house. Most of it being mental preparation.

She awoke a few hours later with Daniel by her side. "Morning Love." He whispered as soft as possible. He said morning although it was a few minutes until it could be called afternoon. She moved in silence so her head was resting on her chest, leg over his. "What did he say?" She mumbled, interlocking their hands. "Yes." Her eyes widened, realising that she actually had to go on a date with Lando Norris. "It's tomorrow evening, here of course. I'll be you're chef and waiter." He giggled, squeezing her hand in his. "Okay." She whispered into his chest. "Can I ask you something...It's unrelated but still important?" He questioned, avoiding her eyes once again. She hummed, looking up at him. "It's about what we talked about before." His nerves where sky high, they shouldn't have been considering it was his suggestion. "What's her name?" Daniel was extremely lucky that his girlfriend was okay with almost anything, well actually she was more willing to try almost everything. "First of all, never said it was a woman, second I've not found anyone. I was wondering if you have, or if you were maybe changing your mind." Daniel was sweet in more ways than one, he always asked, even if he think he knew the answer. "I haven't and no I've not. We talked about this months ago, have you changed your mind?" He shook his head, it was hard to find someone you trusted to have a threesome with. "What brought this about then? This is about Lando. Do you want to ask him?" Daniel would have asked Max if he wasn't in a committed relationship. But to think, he wanted to have a threesome with his former team mate. It sounded weird when he put it like that. "Maybe. I've only really thought about it for all of ten minutes, and to be fair, I have seen his nudes in his camera roll before. But hey that's a conversation for another time." His small rant sent a wave of curiosity through her. Would Lando be the right fit for them. "Lets take some baby steps. He asked for some dating advice, not to fuck us. We'll see how that goes, then we can see if he's willing." She stated, a rather wide smile painting her face.

The following day Lando began to panic slightly as he slipped his arms through his shirt, and made work on the buttons. He felt as though it would be really awkward and that worried him. Would this sour his relationship with Daniel slightly? Lando didn't think he could cope with that. His hands shook slightly as he got out of his car, flowers in a lose grip. He knocked on the door a few times before she finally answered. "Hello Lando." He wanted to lightly kiss her cheek, as he usually would but hesitated, he needed to remember this is Daniel's girlfriend, not a random date. "Go for it, nothing is off limits. We need to see what you're doing." Daniel stated matter of factly. The word 'Nothing' worried Lando further, because what did nothing really mean? Lando pulled her in for a short hug as he kissed her cheek softly. He handed her the bouquet with a sweet smile. "Thank you, they are lovely." She almost whispered walking through the flat towards the kitchen, reaching for the vase. "How are you?" He asked, voice low. Lando never considered himself shy, but tonight he was struggling. "I've been good, looking forward to this evening with you." Lando thought her acting was all to convincing, no one's girlfriend should seem this enthusiastic about going on a date with their boyfriend's friend. "And how are you?" She was quick to question as she turned to face him. "Well, I've been looking forward to seeing you too." He stated sweetly. Soon the silence was interrupted by Daniel making an almost 'wrong buzzer sound'. "You can't just repeat what she just said, It looks like you're not really bothered. Try again." He turned back around, stirring the sauce for the pasta. Lando sighed before speaking again. "Really good actually. I've been excited to see you." He turned to the side, looking at Daniel for conformation, who just nodded slightly.

Lando linked their hands as he guided her to the table. Daniel came over and poured the wine and gave the brit a slight nod. "Start with step one." Lando's chest was rising and falling rather quickly, he had never been so anxious sat across the table from a lady before. "You're earrings are really pretty, I like that the stones match you're dress." He stated as a light blush painted his cheeks. Daniel helped her get ready, from choosing the dress to helping her put it on. He wanted her to be as she would if they were on a date, which included a gorgeous dress, pretty earrings and a lovely pair of heels. He loved getting ready with her, especially when she would button up his shirt for him. "That's good, you're being specific enough that she feels noticed." Daniel could read her like a book, he could tell that she was becoming flustered already. He complemented, no practically worshiped her, all the time, yet she couldn't help her reaction to hearing it from Lando. "Oh, Um...Thank you." She was shocked in her own reaction and reached for her drink, taking a rather large sip.

"So tell me, what have you been doing these past few days?" She questioned, leaning forward. Lando began to panic, he knows exactly what he did for the whole of the week, yet he just couldn't answer; he wasn't prepared to be asked a question so soon. He licked his lips before he began speaking. "I've spent some time with my sisters and my friend Danny. I think keeping up with family and friends is really important, so I try to do it as much as possible." Lando said with a small smile, looking back at her. "So what about you? Surely a pretty Lady like yourself must have had other dates." He asked, nerves rising once again as he brought his wine closer, almost cuddling the drink. "You have to be careful with that, depending on who she is, she might take that in a really bad way. Rephrase the sentence so you're not painting her as some kind of slut."

Lando necked the glass for a small amount of extra confidence. "So what about you? A pretty Lady like yourself must be busy." He looked up to her again, a small smile on her face. He let her talk for a while, repeating the last few words of some sentence in an almost questioning tone, showing her that he was engaged. Daniel came over again, placing the bowls of pasta in front of them. "DHA." Was all he said as he looked at Lando, who's blush deepened at the thought. She was quickly confused by the acronym. This must have been 'How Daniel secured her'. "What do you plan to do in the future?" Lando was becoming slightly less nervous by the minute, until Daniel repeated the dreaded sound. "That's not specific enough. Show her that you're paying attention." The Australian stated, pulling himself on the counter. Lando was beginning to get frustrated. "What do you plan to do in the next three years?" Lando's tone was slightly sweeter, he waited until she said something small that could be expanded on. Daniel continued to eat the remaining pasta out of the pot as he listened to his girlfriend talk about her dreams, her answers have of course changed, but he felt almost a little hurt that he didn't know most of her answers. "Oh wow." Lando was genuinely surprised with what she wanted to achieve, it made him excited to see her again. Quickly he realised how wrong that was. He shouldn't find her as attractive as he does. Is he a terrible person?

"That's all you've got to say? It's a good thing you're good in bed." She giggled out as Daniel choked on the pasta. "That was a bit mean Darling." Lando's blush deepened to a red. Was he supposed to become flustered when his friend spoke that was? Probably not. He shouldn't be reacting this way, he knows that, yet he can't help but feel slightly aroused. "Oh come on. He must be." She turned back to him with a sly smirk. Lando was confused, he knew if he told Daniel something then it was likely that she would be told too, and he didn't have a problem with it. But now he was surprised, he'd never heard her say such a thing. Lando felt as though he needed to match her, "Well I've not had any complaints." Her eyebrow furrowed before she lifted up her glass, finishing the rest of the drink. "Is that so?" Daniel mirrored her smile.

"Well it's hard to not be good at something you been doing for years, It's pretty easy to adapt woman to woman." Lando stated as his head tilted to the side. "Hold on. Hold on. You do the same thing...Every time?" Daniel jumped down from the counter in shock , while she was slightly taken aback and disappointed; Surely that couldn't have been fun, then again it was with different woman who would have all reacted differently, so maybe it wasn't as boring as it seemed. "You've got to spill, especially if none of their friends have said not to go out with you." The Australian practically begged. He pulling her out of the seat as Lando began to speak again. "You don't need those details." She was pulled into Daniel's lap during Lando's embarrassment. "Oh come on, please. It will help. You know what? Maybe it's not what you're saying, maybe it's the reputation you've created. They expect you to take em home and fuck em good." Daniel was a little tipsy again and Lando wasn't too far behind. "That's not gonna help me secure a date that is willing to come back." This so called 'date' quickly became an interrogation of friends. "Oh come on, we're curious, if every woman in Monaco wants to sleep with you, you must be good." She smiled, stealing her drink back from Daniel, who's arms were tight around her waist. "Well, I guess so, but it's not as fun as you think. Always being Dominant, always doing the work. It gets, pretty boring."

They could finally see why he was so desperate, and although Daniel would disagree that always being dominant was boring, he could still sympathise. In a relationship there is more trust and willingness to experiment with one's partner, always keeping things interesting. Yet with dates accompanied with sex, that would be almost impossible to do.

"Okay then, why don't you be good and listen to what I have to say?" She whispered out in a rather seductive tone, leaving Daniel in the seat as she made way to the brit on the other side of the table. She pushed her knee between his legs as she began to speak, "Will you be good for me Lando?" Blood rushed to his cock as he finally made sense of the words that left her mouth. He shouldn't be as turned on as he was, he didn't know if he was even allowed to be. "Well Lando, are you?" Daniel repeated. How long had Lando been thinking? How long had he been focused on the feeling of his hard cock? Too long if it meant his friend gave him permission. "I promise, I'll be good." He almost whimpered , avoiding her eyes. She was quick to straddle him, grabbing his neck as she did so. "Yeah? Are you going to do everything I ask?" She whispered before lowering her lips towards his neck. "Yes, anything." Lando said followed by a low moan. Daniel was surprised to see this part of her. The Australian was quick to get involved. His fingers threaded through Lando's hair as he appeared behind him. "Good." Daniel said, voice dropping an octave.

She pulled Lando out of the chair and towards the bedroom, Daniel quick to follow. "Strip." Was all she said when the brit reached the bed, and as he said he would, Lando listened. He made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, although struggling to begin with. As he reached the final button he looked up, eyes met with the sight of them kissing; Daniel's hands roamed over her slowly, first groping her ass shamelessly, before working his way up her spine, dancing over every vertebrae. Her hands rested on his jaw, almost as if she was pulling him in as close as possible. Lando was getting harder by the second, to the point it was almost painful. "Lando...Come take the dress off her." Daniel spoke in an almost condescending tone, and he knows it should not be as attractive as it is. Lando almost rushed over, pulling her hair out of the way before slowly sliding the zip down. She let the dress fall as she turned, looking at the desperate man before her. "I thought you said you were going to do everything I said. It seems you've decided to go back on your word already." She said shaking her head. Lando was confused for a moment, until he looked down, he only managed to take his shirt off, not the trousers. "So how are you going to punish him Darling?" Daniel asked, hands now resting on her hips, he pulled her back slightly, so her ass was resting against his hardening cock. "I think, since it was his first mistake, we go easy." She started, looking back at her boyfriend. Lando was slightly relieved until he heard her voice once more, "You don't get to cum. Not until you've made me and Daniel cum with your mouth. It's only fair since you can't follow simple instructions." She glanced back at Daniel and was pleased with the small nod from him. She knew she couldn't go too hard as didn't know what he could handle. Lando on the other hand didn't think he could cope any longer. His left hand could only get him off so much. He wanted to feel someone else, that's what he needed. So having that taken away from him was devastating.

She moved towards the bed and sat at the edge, looking Lando in the eyes as she spoke. "Come here." She beckoned him over. The brit was quick to drop to his knees as he spread her legs further apart. He knew it wouldn't take him long to make her cum. That had almost become his specialty. Lando preferred to have multiple rounds so keeping foreplay as short as possible was almost a necessity for him, yet he still needed her well prepared. "Go on." Daniel whispered in his ear, pushing his head down lightly. Lando licked a long stripe up her cunt, looking up to see her reaction briefly. He wasn't told what she actually like so he wanted to find out as quick as possible. He first started by applying a light pressure with his tongue, circling slowly. He didn't even get so much as a gasp. As he began to lick up and down at a faster rate he let his thoughts come back.

"A little faster." Daniel whispered again, feeling a little sorry for his friend. The Australian's hand travelled down from Lando's abs down to his cock, squeezing lightly, he could feel it throb in his hands. Lando moaned into her cunt, temporarily losing control of himself. He soon felt her leg over his shoulder, pulling his body closer to hers, and was quickly brought back to reality. He laid his tongue flat on her clit and shook his head side to side, conscious of the speed he was doing so, almost thankful for Daniel's help. "That's it Lando, make me feel good." She moaned, head falling back slightly. If Daniel was still touching him, he was sure that he would have come, even with the smallest touch. Lando continued his relentless movements even as she closed her thighs around him. He groaned once more knowing it would push her over the edge. "Yes. Yes. Yes Lando, fuck." Her hands met the sheets in a desperate need to steady her self as white clouded her vision. Lando slowed the movement of his tongue, letting her ride out the orgasm. Her moans became quieter the lighter the pressure Lando applied. "So good for me." She whispered, looking down at him. Lando blushed at the praise as it sent a wave of pleasure through him. "Do you like when I tell you how good you are? How good you make me feel? Does it get you off?" She questioned, leaning forward with a smirk. Lando was almost struggling to get his words out, mind fuzzy as he tried to think of a way to say yes. He was quick to nod his head extraordinarily quick.

"I think that was a yes Darling." Daniel stated, pulling Lando back by his hair. "Take em off." He demanded, letting Lando catch his breath, Daniel was also aware of how overwhelming this could be for his friend. The brits hands came up quick, unbuttoning Daniel's jeans before pulling them down. Lando was slightly more worried about this, not just because he knew it would take him longer but because there was a high chance of him choking. Lando didn't know how to approach this as he'd never sucked dick before. Sure he had plenty of blowjobs but he didn't know how to give them. "You'll get praise when you do something worthy of it." Daniel said, pushing Lando's head closer to his cock.

"You need to spit a little." Lando felt her hands on his shoulders as she spoke. She was doing exactly what her boyfriend was doing before, guiding him teasingly, and Lando was both thankful and resentful of it. Although this time it was more of the former. "Wrap your hand around him, just below the head. Yeah that's it." She whispered, fingers tangling in his hair as she pushed his head so his lips were almost kissing the tip of Daniel cock. "Go on. You said you'd do everything I said." Lando was not ready for what ever punishment she was prepared to give him if he didn't comply. After coating Daniel's cock with his spit, Lando began to rub his thumb over the tip, teasing slightly. After a few seconds he let his hand form a fist and began stroking up and down slowly, never quite reaching the base. "I thought she said get us off with your mouth." Daniel stated, looking down at Lando with a smirk, who's nerves were rising by the second. "I'm not going to blow him for you. Start by licking the underside and take the tip into your mouth." She instructed as she slid her hand up his back, resting it between his shoulder blades. "So good. Be careful, don't take him too deep." She was quick to pull Lando back, making sure to teach him properly. "Breathe though your nose Baby. Start slow." She said, pushing his hair out of his face.

Lando did as she said, taking an inch at a time, mindful of not holding his breath. He began to bob his head at a slightly faster pace, taking another inch or two. "Good, so good for me Lando." Daniel muttered, watching his cock disappear into the brit's mouth. Lando moaned as he did before, sending vibrations through Daniel's cock. "Careful, watch your teeth." Lando just didn't know what to do, it was almost like the praise was overriding his brain. He wanted to make them feel good, he wanted to see them cum but he wanted to be praised, he wanted to be told what to do. He was getting close, feeling her hands on his skin wasn't helping. Her fingers were tracing over every divot and it was driving him insane, so much so that his trousers were becoming impossibly tight. Lando almost pulled off fully before swallowing around the tip. "Fuck Lando, sure you haven't done this before?" Daniel gasped, hand now resting on Lando's head. He pulled off with a pop, gasping for air. "Promise I haven't...Please, hurts so much." He groaned, chest rising and falling quickly. "Not yet, you need to make me cum first." The Australian said, hand coming down to his face, rubbing the spit off of Lando's jaw. "Be good and you get to cum." Lando was quick to bring his mouth back to Daniel's cock, sucking the best he could as he began to bob his head again. In the meantime, her hands left his back and came down to his front, unbuttoning his trousers. She squeezed him rather tightly before undoing the zip. Lando moaned feeling the limited release of his cock, Daniel threw his head back in pleasure as he felt the vibration. "Focus on the head Lando, he's very close." She demanded, kissing and biting his neck, leaving distinct marks. Daniel came down his throat quickly, taking Lando off guard, who pulled away, attempting to catch his breath again.

"You didn't have to swallow." Daniel stated, pulling Lando up from the ground. "I didn't have much choice." Lando whined, face contorted into disgust. "Don't get bratty, I'll leave you high and dry." He threatened looking towards his girlfriend with a large smile adorning his face. "I won't. Promise. Please, I need to cum so bad." He said, giving his best pleading eyes. Daniel's hands made contact with his skin before he pulled the remainder of Lando's clothes off. "Get on the bed, I want you against the headboard."

"And you, come here." Daniel pulled her in, kissing her passionately, letting his hands roam her skin once again, squeezing her tits and hips every now and then. He guided her to the end of the bed, pushing her down, watching her tits bounce as her back made contact with the mattress. Daniel was quick to climb on top of her, sliding his hands down her abdomen. She didn't realise how turned on she actual was. Did watching Lando give her boyfriend head really arouse her that much? "Fuck, you are so wet Darling." Evidently so. Daniel wanted to tease her slightly, even if they were both in control of Lando, he was still the one telling her what to do. He grasped her thigh with one hands, pushing her legs further apart. His fingers circled her clit slowly, waiting for her tell tale gasp of pleasure. "Oh please." Lando whined behind them, pulling on his hair slightly. "You're not allowed to touch yourself Lando. You have to wait." Daniel muttered, pushing a finger into her cunt slowly. "But it's not fair, I made you both cum." He said, sitting up straight, desperately wanting them to touch him. "Don't be a brat." She said in a pointed tone, turning her head towards the brit. Her demand was followed by a loud moan as Daniel pushed a second finger in. "She needs to be preped properly, too hard to fit you're dick in otherwise." She quickly became bashful and covered her face as Daniel began pumping and scissoring his fingers. His other hand rose from her leg and came to rest on her neck, squeezing lightly.

"That's enough Darling, I can see how much he needs you." Daniel said, smacking her ass as she made when to Lando. "Be good for me baby." She whispered, holding onto his shoulders as she straddled his lap. "Finally getting what you need." She lined his cock up with her cunt as she spoke. Lando's hands came to rest on her hips, squeezing lightly. "Don't touch." She chastised, taking him fully. Lando's cock was hitting places Daniel's usually didn't and it was intoxicating. The feeling of having complete control over someone was almost taking her over, she could finally understand why Daniel always preferred to be in charge, it was so thrilling. "Please, faster, need it so bad." Lando was already moaning uncontrollably, his eyes closed and head fallen back. She obliged and began bouncing faster, hands covering the bite marks she made earlier, making him wince loudly. As she began rocking her hips Daniel spoke, "Open your eyes Lando, you need to see." He did as he was instructed and was immediately met with her blissed out face and it pulled a low moan from his mouth. "Lando, look at me. Give me you're hand. That's it, You can touch her with your other, make her cum." His left hand was enveloped in Daniels, while his right came down to her clit, rubbing slightly harsh circles. Lando wanted to feel her cum around him, and this was the fastest way to do it. At the same time, Daniel was guiding his friend's hand back to his cock. "Come on, jerk me off. You must be really good at it now." Lando was stunned for a moment, brain struggling to comprehend. There was just so much happening, the overwhelming feeling if her cunt, the sound of her moans and Daniel's demands, it was all so thrilling to the brit. Lando made a fist around Daniel's cock once again, this time stroking faster than before and focused more on the head. The Australian was mindful of the state his friend was in and lead closer, grabbing his cheek softly and kissed his lips slowly, he felt every moan that wanted to leave Lando's mouth, and it jus riled him up even more.

"Fuck Lando, that's it, a bit harder." Every part of him was occupied yet he wanted them ton take more, he didn't want anything left. Daniel was edging closer the longer he watched the scene before him; His darling girlfriend ruining Lando. "I'm gonna cum, fuck keep going." At this point the only thing Lando could do was follow instructions Daniel painted their skin white as her moans grew louder, and Lando's grip harshened. "So good for me Lando. Fuck." He lengthened the last few syllables as he came down from his high. Daniel's hands made way to his girlfriend, resting on her back to keep her steady. Lando could feel her tightening around his as his hand on her clit was replaced with Daniel's, giving her what he knows she needed. "Take a break Lando, just enjoy the feeling of her cunt. You deserve it." Lando's hips bucked without warning meeting her bounces. "Oh Please, let me cum. Please, please please." Lando begged loudly, voice practically bouncing off the walls. Daniel began to guide her hips bringing Lando ever closer. "Cum Darling, I know you're close." The Australian whispered in her ear, giving her clit one last harsh smack before she began convulsing around Lando, no longer in control of her own body. Lando was quick to follow, cumming inside with a loud groan as his back arched slightly, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

They were both seeing stars as Daniel forced them both to ride out their high, he slowed the guiding of her body and began to kiss her neck softly. The only sounds in the room was their heavy breathing as she climbed off of Lando. They laid on either side of the brit, just enjoying each others presence. As she began to slip out of the haze, she let her hands trail over Lando's skin, draw shapes with feather light touches. His body was still twitching from the immense pleasure of her cunt. "Thank you...So good." He could barely from a sentence, still so fucked out. "You were so good for us, you deserved it." She whispered into his neck, shocked with the bruises she left.

They could tell just by the look on Lando's face that he was already on the verge of being overstimulated and decided that just one orgasm was enough for now, especially with the amount of cum still spilling out of her cunt. "When was the last time you even came?" Daniel questioned, rubbing his thumb over Lando's forehead, brushing away the messy curls. "I don't...Know." He rushed out between heavy breaths. "It's been months since I been with anyone, and a while since I jacked off. Maybe a few weeks, could be a month...I really don't know." He said, turning his head so it was buried in her neck. A blush began rising to his face when he realised what he admitted. "So you really needed someone else to get you off huh. Interesting." Daniel said with an almost teasing tone. "It's a good thing we could help you then." She whispered into his hair. "And I think, we'd be more than willing to help you again."

This took me way too long to write as I clearly went a little overboard in the build up. I hope you enjoyed.

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jasmines-library · 1 year ago

Note

hi love! idk if you are interested or not but i had an idea of reader being friends with lilly and severus but also with the marauders untill the oh so fateful day were sev ruined his friendship with lilly and reader. i love the idea of lilly ending up in james's arms and reader in sirius's (they are my boys sorry sev🤭)

thank you and again, only if you want! have a wonderful day lovely!

Only Human

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Warnings: Slurs (mudblood), swearing bullying kinda, negativity but fluffy ending

Word Count: 1.7k

⛧ MARAUDERS MASTERLIST⛧

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Severus Snape was resting against a tree when it happened. The castle sat opposite him, just a short way across the clear water. The small ripples created by the creatures in the lake and the summer breeze often distracted him from the book that he rested between his knees and his chest as he tucked them up closely. It was this exact reason that he hadn't noticed the band of robe-clad gryffindors trudging up the slope toward him. James Potter led the group, he wore his signature charismatic grin; a smirk that twinged the corner of his lip upwards and made his nose scrunch beneath his glasses, and he had his wand held loosely in his hand. He twisted the delicate tool between his fingers as you would a drumstick. Sauntering over to Severus, he chuckled at his friends, nudging them playfully with his shoulder.

“Snape!” He jested, calling out to him.

His head snapped up, but he kept his back planted firmly against the tree as the group of marauders ran up to him. He squeezed his eyes shut, just hoping that they would turn and leave. But they were bored and Severus, who had been particularly troublesome toward them, had caught their eyes. Severus inched himself up against the tree so that he rose to his feet and began to turn back in the direction of the castle.

James frowned, a look of mock pity set on his face. “Leaving already, Snivellus?”

Snape reached for his wand, but kept his back to them. “Fuck off, Potter. I don’t want trouble.”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to turn your back to someone when they’re talking to you, Snape.” Sirius asked him.

Severus whipped around quickly, his wand poised to cast a spell at them but James beat him to it; with one flick of his hand Snape's wand went flying across the river bank. He paled, the four Marauders stepping closer to him.

“Nice one, James.” Sirius cheered.

The dark haired boy backed up slowly, setting his gaze. The four of them were edging closer, threatening him with their wands when you spotted them. You had just finished class and were heading over to the lake with Lily, arm in arm. The two of you were over there in seconds when you saw your friends threatening each other. Much to your boyfriend's dismay, you and Severus had been friends from the beginning of the first year. You met him on the train; a shy boy with long hair who didn’t quite seem certain of the world. Lily bonded with him quickly, and you followed soon after. It wasn’t long after that that you met Sirius Black. Charming, brave, daring; he was the complete opposite to Snape, but you supposed that was what drew you to him so much. It was their clash in personalities that made the two clash. It seemed as though they were always doing something to wind up the other.

This time it had gone too far. You were unsure of what Sev had done to wind up the Marauders so much, but you and Lily were skidding to a stop beside them in a heartbeat.

James caught a glimpse of Lily’s fiery hair out of the corner of his eye. “Lilyflower-”

“Leave him alone, James.” It wasn’t quite a demand, Lily never had that sort of aggressiveness in her, but her voice was firm. She didn’t want her friend to get hurt.

“Ah, Evans, Don’t make me hex you.” James sighed, a playful twinge on his tongue.

“I’m serious.” Lily repeated when James refused to lower his wand, letting it loll around between his fingers.

“No,” Sirius smirked. “I am.”

You gave him a hard stare through narrow eyes, and his smirk dropped. “Siri. Please.”

The boy nodded, nudging his friend who promptly pocketed his wand. Severus seemed taken back, his steps faltering. He glanced gratefully in your direction, though his anger and embarrassment were unmistakable in his eyes.

“You’re lucky that they were here to help you, Snape.”

“I don’t need help from filthy mudbloods.”

You had expected many things from Severus, but those words were not one of them. He spat them with venom; malice intending to bite deep. And bite deep it did.

You froze, eyes glassing over with tears. Serverus Snape had made an incredibly low blow; as a muggleborn, it was safe to say that it took some time to come to terms with your letter to Hogwarts. You were excited, of course but your parents were far from keen. Lily experienced the same thing with her sister too. Things didn’t get much better when you arrived at Hogwarts either. Some saw you as ‘impure’. Unworthy. Sev knew this and he had chosen to use it against you. Perhaps it was in a moment of spite, perhaps he hadn’t meant to say it at all. But all that mattered in that moment was that Severus Snape was just like the rest of them.

You could see Sirius glance your way out of the corner of your eye, but when he took a step toward you you backed away.

“Fuck you, Snape.” You spat back at him, trying to hide the waver in your voice.

“You should watch your mouth, Snivellus.” Lily glared at him before turning on her heel and making her way promptly back to the castle before anyone else could say a word.

You were left standing between the two groups, both slightly shell shocked, in silence.

Sirius, now full of guilt, opened his mouth to talk, but you pursued Lily before he could even form the first syllable.

The tears came flooding in quickly after that.

Sirius hadn’t seen you for the rest of the day. and that was partly because you refused to come out of the girls bathroom. He had even tried to get Moaning Myrtle to coax you out to talk to him, but still you refused to show your face as you curled up on the bathroom tile. It made his stomach churn.

His pit of guilt dug itself deeper as he sat in class. Sirius’ leg bounced restlessly during potions and there was just as much ink on the page at the start of the lesson as there was at the end. The detention he was also given didn’t help ease his thoughts. His mind wandered to the worse case scenarios. It was his fault for provoking Snape… What if you never wanted to talk to him again? He was up in an instant when the fateful day came to an end and he could return to the common room. He dragged his feet up to the portrait and muttered the words to open it. Every part of him itched to see your face mingling amongst the crowd.

At first, he didn’t see you. But he managed to make out the crown of your head resting against an armchair tucked away in the corner by the fire. His face softened when he saw the tear tracks staining your face where you had failed to wipe them away properly.

You had spent practically the last two hours crying. Everytime the flood stopped, it seemed to start up again. Severus was supposed to be your friend and he had discarded you just like that. The back of your eyes stung, glassy beads threatening to spill again. When you finally braved it enough to make it back to the common room, you couldn’t bear to go up to your room. You hardly spent any time there anyway because you spent much of it lounging around in Sirius’ bed with the other marauders…and you were angry and Sirius.

No… perhaps angry was too strong a word. Hurt. Hurt by his actions and his and James’ thoughtlessness. Being up in your room would have just reminded you of that. So instead you settled down with a book by the fire trying to distract yourself and let the world move around you.

It didn’t take Sirius very long to reach you. He crossed the common room in a few wide strides.

“Love?” Siri asked hesitantly.

You peeked up at him meekly. Your eyes were red raw and puffy, it made the boy frown. Sniffing, you wiped your eyes with the hem of your sleeve. “Oh.. hi Siri.” you mumbled, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Oh Lovey. I’m so sorry.” He melted, sliding onto the arm of the chair beside you.

“ ‘ts okay. It’s not your fault…”

Sirius scowled. You were far too kind for your own good. He knew exactly what you had been through and made him sick just thinking that you weren’t allowing anyone to take the blame for it. “But it is, Dove. I shouldn’t have provoked him. If I had stopped James and just kept my mouth shut then you wouldn’t have had to come over in the first place.”

A tear spilled from your eyes and all of a sudden you broke all over again. “He was supposed to be my friend, Pads.” You blubbered, voice wavering. “He’s just like the rest of them…”

Sirius took your hands in his, pressing a kiss to them. “You didn’t deserve any of this, my love. I am so, so sorry.”

“Maybe they’re right….” You trailed off. “Maybe I am worthless. If Sev thinks so too then-”

“Shh.” Sirius pressed another kiss to your temple as he scooped you up into his arms. Burying your face into his chest you continued to cry. He trailed his fingers over your back. “You’ve never been more wrong in your life, Lovey. You are worth so much more than that. You’re kind, brave and not to mention the most beautiful girl in the world. You’re worth everything to me. Who gives a crap what they think?”

You sniffled, unsure.

“I mean it.”

You looked up at him, wiping away your tears; a ghost of a smile on your lips.

“I love you.” Siri whispered, kissing you softly.

“I love you too.” You settled your head against his chest, shifting to curl against him.

It was there that James and Lily found you later, entwined with each other and sleeping peacefully. Safe within each other's arms.

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MARAUDERS TAGS:

@hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx

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ravewing · 4 months ago

Text

whirlpool — is he really as awful as the fandom makes him out to be ?

a wings of fire character analysis. minor content warning for mentions of abuse, grooming, pedophilia, and the likes.

whirlpool is, indubitably, the most universally disliked wings of fire character (and by a long shot, too). in the seven years that i've been an active wof fan, i think i've only seen two, maybe three, people say that they can even stand him. ask anyone in the fandom who the "worst character" is; nine times out of ten, they will probably answer, "whirlpool." ask the reason for this, and they will probably reply with something along the lines of him being a pedophile.

but is he?

i would like to note that i am in no way defending whirlpool. he is by no means a morally good, nor redeemable, dragon. i recently reread the lost heir, so i'm trying to approach this with an unbiased, strictly objective viewpoint. this is just my analysis of his character based on what i've heard people say about him compared to his actual character in the novel.

for a character that appears only in one book (two, if you count turtle's brief flashback in talons of power), whirlpool is a character that wings of fire fans just cannot seem to let go. for countless years, whirlpool has been the subject of a wide array of jokes, memes, and is overall used as the fandom's punching bag—and with good reason (at least, to an extent). however, this has, in recent years, quickly downspiraled into blatant pedophilia jokes.

pedophilia is something that, as i've noticed, is seen as "funny" or "quirky" in certain niches of the wings of fire fanbase, especially so on reddit. make a post asking for people to share their favorite ships, and you'll get at least five people saying something like "clay x bumblebee" or "burn x auklet" to be funny. perhaps it's just the fact that most of the people cracking these "jokes" are teenaged redditors, but the fact that pedophilia is watered down to nothing more than "Boiii!😂😂Cursed funny joke🗿🍷" is, without a doubt, an issue. this downplaying of such a heavy topic not only leads to people just blatantly saying insensitive things for a bad jest, but it also results in the people making those jokes becoming desensitized to the severity of the issue.

when something as serious as pedophilia is treated as nothing more than meme fodder or a buzzword to casually throw around, it diminishes the real harm and suffering experienced by victims. and over time, this normalization will blur the line between satire and genuine endorsement and create spaces where predatory behavior is either ignored or, in the worst cases, subtly encouraged under the guise of just being “dark humor.” this kind of discourse can also alienate victims of a genuine real-world issue, which inevitably makes it harder for them to speak out or feel supported in these communities. and while yeah, humor can be a tool to cope with difficult topics, there’s a stark difference between using it to challenge harmful behaviors and using it to trivialize them.

but i'm getting off track.

whirlpool is not a good dragon. he's manipulative, concerned with nothing more than his personal status and wealth, lacks proper seawing etiquette and self-awareness of his patronizing, annoying personality, by all accounts, an awful teacher, and is just overall a condescending know-it-all. he was a one-off pretentious antagonist, and that is all he was ever meant to be.

he serves as queen coral's most trusted advisor in magic and publishing in her council, and, since he's practically bending over to kiss the ground that her talons walk on like a well-trained circus seal, she finds him to be absolutely delightful, intelligent, and just overall a brilliant gift to all the world. considering this, it's no wonder why coral arranged for him to marry anemone in the future.

that's a detail that most people seem to forget. coral is the one who set up the whole anemone and whirlpool thing. of course, this doesn't mean that whirlpool didn't want to marry anemone; it's just that he was only in it so that he could become the future king of the seawings. he is never shown to have any sort of attraction to anemone (nor to tsunami or auklet); he simply views them as pawns in a game that will ultimately result in his seat in a throne. obviously, this is not a good thing. it's implied by anemone that he was essentially manipulating her to use her magic more, thus becoming "evil" and more susceptible to challenge her mother for the seawing crown (and i'm pretty sure that blister was encouraging this, too; the only difference is that her ideal end result would be using anemone as a war weapon to secure her reign over the sandwings). he is a manipulator, but not a pedophile.

when i first read the lost heir in elementary school, whirlpool was nothing but just an annoying side character who's only trait was being a boring "erm, ackshually" kind of guy who spent his every waking moment praising queen coral's literary works. obviously, i didn't fully pick up the more serious underlying tones of manipulation for power and the intricacies of royal politics, but after re-reading the book many, many times over the course of seven years, i've gathered a much more comprehensive grasp of his character.

the thing is, he just... doesn't have that much depth to him. that's the whole point; he's meant to just be a one-off antagonist that the reader isn't supposed to like. think about it. why would tui intentionally put a pedophile in a book directed towards elementary and middle schoolers? she wouldn't. he's literally just supposed to be annoying and die.

compare him to coral, for instance. yes, whirlpool was awful. but unlike coral, he did not write a scroll about eugenics, treat and harness a dragonet like a literal dog, publicly torture and execute loyal subjects for an accident (that was really coral's brother's fault), threaten to KILL his own daughter (okay, well, he did attempt to murder tsunami, but i think it's also pretty bad to tell your kid that you're going to kill her), neglect over 30 other of his own children, among a bounty of other not-so-great things. what i'm trying to say is, people often bash repeatedly on whirlpool with the same three jokes (like, come on, at least make a new joke. like whirlpoop or something i haven't heard that one before) while overlooking awful things that other characters do as well.

people love scarlet, blister, burn, darkstalker, vulture, mastermind, and countless other villains, despite the fact that many of them have done the exact same things as whirlpool or worse (elaboration in like two paragraphs). and there's nothing wrong with liking villains at all (personally i love a ton of wof's villains; i mean, come on, who doesn't?), so long as you're not trying to justify/redeem/defend their actions!!

what i'm trying to say is this:

this extreme vilification of whirlpool relies on literally nothing but exaggeration or outright misinformation. while yes, it is absolutely true that he was manipulating anemone to serve his own ambitions, his interest in marrying her had nothing to do with attraction or pedophilia—it was calculated power play, one arranged by queen coral herself. many people conflate his manipulative tendencies with predatory behavior, but his treatment of anemone was no different than how many other power-hungry characters in wings of fire have used young dragons as pawns in their schemes. this does not make him any less of a bad person, but it is important to distinguish between the two accusations.

another major issue with the fandom’s treatment of whirlpool is the sheer inconsistency in how different villains are perceived. as mentioned earlier, characters like darkstalker, scarlet, and even queen coral have committed arguably worse acts than whirlpool. darkstalker, for instance, manipulated young dragons like anemone, moonwatcher, fathom, and his own girlfriend, placed magical compulsions on his own friends, and tried to commit genocide—yet he has a massive fanbase, with many people willing to justify or romanticize his actions. scarlet is a tyrant who tortured innocent dragons for entertainment, but she is often seen as a charismatic, even beloved villain. (i can't lie, i love her too) coral, despite being directly responsible for the forced betrothal of anemone and whirlpool, does not receive nearly as much backlash as he does. why, then, is whirlpool singled out as the worst villain when he is hardly unique in his cruelty?

the answer likely lies in the nature of his character. unlike other villains who are powerful, charming, or entertaining, whirlpool is pathetic. he is not a fearsome warlord like burn or a tragic antihero like darkstalker is meant to be—he is an annoying, self-important sycophant whose ultimate goal is to climb the social ladder by cozying up to queen coral. he is the kind of villain who is easy to mock, easy to laugh at, and easy to pile hatred onto without deeper discussion. it’s the same reason why villains like mastermind or vulture don’t inspire the same level of vitriol—they are manipulative and amoral, but they aren’t written to be particularly cool or interesting in the way that characters like darkstalker or scarlet are.

at the end of the day, whirlpool is a terrible dragon. he is an opportunistic manipulator, annoying, a pathetic wet cat, and an overall detestable character. however, the way the fandom fixates on him, and exaggerated or misrepresents his crimes while ignoring worse actions from other villains, makes me wonder: why do some villains get a "pass" while others are relentlessly mocked? why do people misrepresent certain characters in ways that turn serious topics into joke fodder? and most importantly—why are we still talking about whirlpool, a one-off side villain from a book released over a decade ago, as if he’s the worst thing to ever happen in wings of fire?

side note: i couldn't figure out how to work this in there, but i don't know where the misconception that whirlpool is a super old decaying man came from. is he far too old for anemone? without a doubt. but from what i gathered from reading tlh, it seems like he's implied to be only slightly older than tsunami; somewhere around riptide's age, perhaps. anyhow, thank you for reading my chaotic mess of a character analysis! as a treat (or an abhorrent punishment, depending on the kind of person you are), here are some funny whirlpool expressions. the last two are my favorites .. he looks like he has eyeliner on in the last one lol

#wof #wings of fire #whirlpool wof #anemone wof #coral wof #rave rambles #character analysis

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bamsywrites · 8 months ago

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And Comes Dawn pt 10

Pairings: Sauron/Halbrand x Reader, Isldur x reader.

Word count: 3k

Summary: The tension breaks.

Tags: fluff, pining, isldur being cute, reader says fuck, reader gets fucked, uhh smut, fingering, cream pie (please pull out for the love of god), sauron is a gentle Dom, dirty talk, minor like really super minor choking, confessions of love, a lot happens okay

Notes: IM NOT GOOD AT SMUT AND DONT READ MY OWN IF I CAN HELP IT, so it's not that proof read.

It had been 3 days since you saw Halbrand, now with Galadriel in prison for sedition as well. The eyes of the Numenorians were never more distrusting of you. Had it not been for your new friendship with Isildur, you would have truly despaired. Unbeknownst to you, Elendil had been defending you and your freedom to the queen. You were beyond grateful for what their family had offered you, from clothing to companionship to protection. They had treated you with a kindness you had rarely seen and it was with no ill will or hidden intentions.

“I wish to take a year off, as my father did, but his expectations of me will not allow it,” Isildur spoke to you as you walked through the city as you had done every evening.

“It seems he only wants what is best for you, though. He cares for you, and it is obvious.” Your eyes were not looking at him as you spoke. Instead, they were focused on a group of people who were dancing. You’d never seen anything like it.

“Yes, I know. I suppose I just wish he would listen,” his gaze followed yours, and he smiled, “We could join them, you know. If you’d like.”

You shook your head, “I have never danced before.”

“I can teach you. It's not that hard. My sister made me learn with her years ago.”

“I’m afraid I’d step on your feet.”

“How many times have you run into me, too distracted by some statue or art to pay attention? I assure you, my feet will be fine.” He teasingly bumped your shoulder with his.

You looked at him apprehensively. “I suppose…”

“Come then,” he grins as he pulls you to the group. One hand on your shoulder and the other on your back. He guides you to the music, and as suspected, you did step on his feet.

“Here, watch what my feet do and match yours to my movements.”

You watched his feet, but it almost made it worse. You couldn’t help but laugh and rest your head against his shoulder. “I am no good at this.”

“No, you’re right. You are quite shit at this,” He laughs with you. It's a deep and comforting laugh. It fills you with light.

“Isildur,” You look up at him, “I am a lady. How dare you speak in such a way in front of me.” You try to keep your face serious, but your smile is pulling at the corners of your lips.

“You are a foreigner whose companions have committed sedition and violence. Yet the word shit is too much for you. What about damn? Ass? Thank the valar I didn’t say fuck.” He teased you back.

“Isildur,” you scolded him, but it was not serious, your eyes twinkling with a smile.

“Have you never spoken in such a way?” He askes with a shake of his head, “Of course you haven’t,” he answered for you, “If you say fuck right here and now, I will buy you a new dress, and the hair accessories you seem to admire so.”

You gave him a look with narrowed eyes, “You jest.”

“I am completely serious. If you say fuck, first thing tomorrow morning I will take you to a shop.”

You looked at him, brows furrowed before muttering something inaudible.

“Louder, I have to be able to hear it.”

“Fuck,” you muttered softly.

“C’mon,” Isildur egged you on with a smirk, “A little louder.”

As soon as you spoke the word, an older woman approached the two of you. “How dare you! This is a respectable establishment for respectable people. Leave. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Isildur was trying his hardest not to laugh. You could tell it. He led you through the crowd, and once you stood outside, he started to laugh.

Your cheeks were as red as a tomato, lips parted in surprise, “I got us kicked out.”

“You got us kicked out,” he said in between laughs. It didn’t take long until you were laughing alongside him.

He grabs your shoulders, “Please, I beg you, do not tell my father,” his hands move to your face, squeezing it gently. “He would hang me from his ship's mast if he knew.”

“Perhaps you deserve it.”

He scoffed, taking his hands away from your face. “You wound me.”

“You forced me to say fuck,” you said in a whisper.

“I didn’t force you to say it that time.”

You glared at him, “Shut up.”

“I think you would likely miss the sound of my voice.”

You were about to speak again when an all too familiar deep voice stopped you. Isildurs' expression changed, too. You figured that Halbrand hadn’t seen you. He was talking with the forge master and showing the new crest he bore. You were confused about the matter.

How did he get released from prison and then earn a guild crest?

“I need this job, please, just one sword and I will convince you.” You heard his voice for the first time in days.

“To start anew, I remember.”

“Yes, and to prove to a woman, I am serious in my intentions.”

The forgemaster smirked, “A woman?”

“A woman.”

You stood watching the interaction, almost forgetting that Isildur was there. You had told him of what had happened in the cells between him and Galadriel and then your reaction to it. He knew this had to be hard for you.

“You know,” he spoke softly, “I know you think he is in love with the elf. Or that he is torn between the two of you. But, if he was trying to win the elves' affections, he would be asking for armor to go to war and not for a job.”

“You did not see the way he looked at her, the way he talked to her.”

“But I have heard how he talks to you, how he looks at you. He looks at you as if you were one of the valar. It is rather obvious to anyone who sees.”

You wet your lips, “I do not wish to give my heart to someone who will only break it.”

“If he breaks your heart, I will destroy him,” he teases softly. “But, honestly, if he is what you want, all you have to do is take him. It is in your hands.”

You stood in silence for a moment or two. “I would like to go to my room, to think over what you have said. I did enjoy today.”

“I know, I did, too.” He smiles and squeezes your shoulder before you walk off.

Valandil grasped Isildurs shoulder, both watching you walk away. “You're a stronger man than I. I couldn't do it.”

“She is simply a friend.”

“I am almost certain that you have the names of all your children picked out. You dream of her in a wedding dress."

Isildur rolled his eyes, pushing his friend away, “Shut up. It is an honor to be her friend.” But the sadness as he watched you turn the corner told another story.

“Come, let us get drinks. I'll buy yours.”

“When did you get back?”

The door had not opened all the way before you spoke. You had spent the evening and some of the night thinking over the words that Isiludr said. What did you want? It wasn’t hard to come to the answer, but it was figuring out what Halbrand wanted that vexed you. Would you end up hurt and heartbroken?

You did not want that.

But you would never know if you didn’t try. If you sat and did nothing, he would surely move on. Isildur was correct, as well, that if it was Galadriel's affections that he sought, then he would have been asking for armor. A job sounded like he wanted to stay, to make a permanent place for himself here. For himself, and,perhaps, you. It was with that thought that you found yourself outside his door.

You regretted not waiting until the morning when you saw him, loose shirt and hair dripping from a bath. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him.

“Early this morning, before sunrise.” He spoke, his eyes taking you in. You saw it now, what Isildur had mentioned. He did look at you as if you were one of the valar. As if you hung the stars themselves and taught the sun how to shine.

You stood there, in silence, looking at him and not knowing what to say or do. The revelation made your breath catch in your chest. Also, you had missed him, and you had felt heartbroken. Now, looking at how he looked at you, you thought perhaps he had been heartbroken by you too.

“Sweet one, I am sorry for what happened before. I ..-”

You shook your head, holding up a hand. It took a moment for the words to come, and when they did, they were but a whisper.

“Do you love me?”

He looked at you in shock. You felt like your heart stopped beating in your chest as you waited for an answer. He simply stood there. You could see in his eyes that he was thinking a million things at once. When he didn’t speak, you asked again.

“Halbrand, do you love me?”

He wet his lips and nodded. “I do,” his voice sounded broken, almost defeated. Like loving you was losing some game. His eyes lifted from where they stared at the floor and looked at you.

Any sense of self control, of decency, it all crumbled with those simple words. It was as if a magnet drew you to him. Suddenly, his face was in your hands and your lips on his. He did not attempt to hesitate. A groan that soon turned into a growl rumbled in his chest as he kissed you back. He tasted wine and smoke. It was intoxicating. Your fingers found their way into his hair as he held your face in his hands.

He broke the kiss, holding your chin in his grasp as he kept your face away from him. “Sweet one,” his voice was deep and rough. You could feel his breath on your skin.“Tell me this is what you want.”

“I want this,” you didn’t hesitate a moment, “I want you.”

“Fuck,” Halbrand groaned, pulling you into his room and shutting the door. His lips were on yours in an instant, pushing you against the door. One of his knees found its way in between your legs as his tongue tasted the inside of your mouth. Your mind was quickly becoming fuzzy, a warmness spreading through your body, an aching between your legs. His hands were frantically moving along your body, as if he wanted to feel all of you at once. His hands were calloused and rough but you enjoyed it. Just as you enjoyed the rough scratches of his beard on your face.

This time, it was you who pulled away for breath. The air between you was hot and thick. He rested his forehead against yours with one of his hands gently holding your neck. “Tell me to stop, sweet one, and I will,” his thumb caressed your skin lightly.

You looked up at him, “I am yours.”

“Do not say words when you do not know the weight of them, sweet one.”

“I am yours,” you repeated, in a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, you guided his hands under your dress and to the sticky, wet heat between your thighs. You couldn't help but smile at the way his breath hitched in his throat and the way his eyes flutter.

His fingers moved, rubbing soft small circles against your clit and watched your face intently. “Has anyone touched you like this?”

You shook your head, and the hand still on your throat squeezed gently, “Use your words, sweet one.”

“No, only you.” You gasped, his finger slid inside you.

“Fuck, do you hear that?” His finger moved faster, the wet sound of your arousal filling the room. “My sweet one,” he cooed, “fucking soaked at the thought of my cock, huh?”

You whimpered, bucking your hips against his finger. He added another one, his eyes never leaving your face, and you cried out his name. Your lips parted slightly and he took it as an invitation to kiss you once more. It was wet and rough and sloppy. He was getting just as lost in the moment, you could tell by the almost primal grunts and groans that left his lips.

His fingers never stopped, even when his lips found your neck. His lips sucked, teeth, teeth nipped, and tongue soothed all well. You gasped and whimpered at his touch. There would be hickeys there in the morning, but that was the furthest thing from your mind. His hand on your neck moved to the valley between your chest before cupping your breast, his thumb brushing your clothed nipple.

That was enough, your cunt clenched around his fingers and your body arched into him. It was a pleasure you had never experienced before, your mind went blank.

“That's it, that's my girl,” Halbrand mumbled softly, his fingers never ceasing. “C'mon sweet girl. Fuck, look at you. Look at that pretty fucking face.”

You breathed heavily. You could feel how you had coated his hands. Your senses came back to you. Your head fell back against the door, “that was incredible.”

He chuckled, his thumb coaxing you to look at him. “Pretty girl, look at me.” You did as he told you, his hands cupping your face. Your own essence smearing against your cheeks.

“That's my girl,” he squeezed your cheeks in his hand. “My pretty fucking girl. I need you to look at me, okay, and I need you to be honest. There is nothing more I want right now than your cunt squeezing around my cock but I need to know you want that too.”

You breathed heavily, that feeling in between your thighs returning, though you weren't sure it had ever left. “Yes, Halbrand, please.”

That's all it took for him to hoist you against the wall, bunching the material of your dress at your hips. He was too desperate to wait to take your clothes off. He made quick work of lowering his pants just enough to free his cock.

“Sweet one, look at me, in my eyes. If this hurts, tell me, and I'll stop.” You nodded and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. One hand held your hips in place while the other gripped your face, ensuring you looked at him and only him.

The moment his cock stretched you, your mouth parted in a gasp. It didn't hurt much at all, perhaps due to the slick arousal that was there already.

“Fuck,” his breath hitched, “Fuck. Does my cock feel good, sweet one?” You nodded, “No, no, no. Use your words. Let me hear it.”

“Your cock feels good,” you breathed out.

“Such foul words from such a pretty mouth.” His thumb traced your bottom lip. “I'm going to move now.”

You nodded before catching yourself, “please.”

The first stroke made your eyes roll back. He felt incredible. You could hear the slick sound of him fucking you and it only aided in your arousal.

“You're taking my cock so well, sweet one.” He kept moving, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, soon your hips were moving to match his thrusts and your fingernails dug into the skin of his shoulders.

Something about that flipped a switch in him. His thrusts were harder and faster, and his fingers gripped you tighter. But you did not mind at all.

“You're mine,” he whispered. “This my fucking cunt, isn't it?” When you nodded his eyes all but rolled into the back of his head. You were his and his alone. You were gone, your thoughts only consisted of him. How he was making you feel. There was nothing else in this world other than his cock.

“My cunt is yours,” you repeated, your eyes started to close but he grabbed your face.

“Eyes on me, sweet one. Focus on the feeling. I want to see how good I make my pretty girl feel. Look at those pretty eyes. Those. Gorgeous. Fucking. Eyes.” He gasped, his grip on your face tight. Every word he spoke, he thruster harder into you. You whimpered and arched into him, your fingers now tugging at his hair desperately.

“You feel that cock, huh? It's yours, only yours. This is your cock, sweet one. I am yours. No one else will have me like this."

Your breathing quickened, his name falling from your lips over and over. Desperate and begging.

“Tell me you love me,” he whispered, “tell me you love me and I will come undone.”

Through whines and whimpers, you spoke. “I love you.” it was you who came first, crying out his name as white stars exploded in your vision, but he soon followed. He buried his face in your neck, and you felt the hot breath and vibrations of his moans as he filled you.

He stayed there for a moment, breathing heavily. You finally gained your senses and couldn't help but start to giggle. That was incredible. You'd never felt anything like it.

“Are you laughing at me?” Halbrand teased, his face still in your neck.

“No, no. I just….that was incredible.”

It was his turn to laugh. “I take it you're going to want to do it again.”

“Well, yes, but preferably on a bed next time.”

He chuckled and lifted his head, “I love you,” he gently squeezed your cheeks in his hands. “I love you. I need you to know that,” he rested his forehead against yours.

“I know, Halbrand. I saw you today, at the forge. I know.” You wrapped your fingers around his wrists and gently squeezed.

“The elf means nothing, not compared to what I feel for you. I consider her a friend, nothing more. You must believe this. You are….everything.”

You nodded. “I love you, too.”

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and neck. “Let's get you a bath. Once I take you to bed, I'm not going to let you leave."

#halbrand x reader #sauron x reader #halbrand x oc #sauron x oc #trop fanfiction #trop x reader #rings of power x reader #rings of power fanfiction #isildur x reader #annatar x reader

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eggluverz · 2 years ago

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STARS FADING BUT I LINGER ON, DEAR

PAIRING. dan heng x gn!reader; dan feng x gn!reader

CONTENT WARNINGS. torture and imprisonment but nothing graphic or in detail!!

WORD COUNT. 5,332

SUMMARY. dan heng has been having dreams about you. they started off good—like a fairytale even. but soon he’s been getting the feeling something is wrong. you’re trapped and alone and can’t escape. dan heng wonders if his dreams are telling him something. and if they are…what is there for him to do?

SOF’S NOTE. *shoves this fic in everyone’s face* LOOK AT THIS! LOOK AT MY BABY!! PLS LOVE IT AND TREASURE IT!!! CRADLE IT GENTLE IN UR HANDS!!!! okay on a more serious note ahdjkdkd thank u anon for this amazing request i absolutely adored writing this 🥺🫶 idk where all the flower symbolism and dreams came from bc ik its not the in req but yk what it spoke to me for this story so i rolled w it HDJSKD i hope y’all enjoy!! :>

“What are all those flowers for?” you giggled, watching as Dan Feng entered the room with a cart full of peonies in tow.

It looked a little ridiculous; the elegant and renowned Imbibitor Lunae wheeling around an absurd amount of white, pink, and red flowers. But Dan Feng never cared about pretenses when he was with you. He always felt comfortable enough to be himself, no matter how ridiculous it appeared.

As he approached, he held a small, blooming red peony out between his fingertips. “They’re for you, naturally.”

He brushed your hair aside and gently tucked the stem of the flower behind your ear, admiring how the deep red of the flower complimented your complexion.

“Beautiful.”

You looked down at your feet with a small chuckle before meeting his gaze again. “Thank you. You’re beautiful as well.”

“Thank you, my love,” said Dan Feng, his hand resting on your waist as he planted a kiss on your forehead. “Do you like the flowers?”

You nodded, feeling the soft petals of the flower in your hair between your fingers as you stared at the bundles of peonies in the cart he brought in. Dan Feng walked over when he saw you staring and led you to each section of colors.

“These are pink—to show my affection for you.” He picked a flower and kissed the petals before bringing it to your mouth to reciprocate. You obliged with a giggle and he smiled and hid the scandalous flower in his sleeves. “These are white peonies, to let you know I’m always thinking of you.”

You placed your hand on his chest, feeling the careful embroidery on the silken fabrics. “You’re always on my mind, too.”

“Good,” he jested. “As I should be.”

Without warning, he brought your body flush against his chest and captured your mouth with his own, softly tugging at your lower lip. You chased after his touch to give him a kiss of your own, but he soon pulled away with a teasing grin on his face.

You pouted. “Hey!”

“Patience, beloved,” said Dan Feng. “I still haven’t gotten to the last color.”

“Oh, my sincere apologies,” you said sarcastically, knowing he was the very reason he hadn’t finished his own speech. “Please, carry on.”

“Since you asked nicely.” He cupped your face and stroked the petals on the flower behind your ear. The sensation of his light fingers brushing against the soft flower petals tickled the skin around your ear and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “This flower is a red peony, to symbolize just how passionate I am for you.” Dan Heng stared into your eyes before he spoke. “I hope you know how much I love you, truly.”

“I know,” you said, gaze not once meeting his. Your stomach tightened and your heart started beating faster as you placed his warm hand on your chest. “I love you, Dan Feng. Every part of my being is yours.”

“And mine, yours.”

Dan Feng took your hand in his, leading you into your bed chambers. You had never felt more loved and wanted than in this moment. But when you entered the room and looked up, the hand you were holding was no longer Dan Feng’s.

Instead, your hand was clutching an iron bar instead of your lover’s hand, shackled in chains on your wrists and ankles. Dan Feng was gone and you were stuck in here for eternity.

You cried out, body racking with helpless sobs. Every fiber of your being—mind, body, spirit—missed him so much. The worst part wasn’t the torture, the solitary confinement, the lack of access to basic human needs.

No, that was nothing.

Nothing compared to knowing you would never see Dan Feng again.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

Dan Heng woke with a start, hair plastered to us forehead with sweat. His pillow and blanket were both strewn across the floor of the Archives and he found himself on his bed alone, a heavy pounding coming from the place where his heart should be. His heart hurt so much he wondered if it was even his.

He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to take a deep breath to calm himself down.

That was the third time this week Dan Heng had a dream like that.

Before, it wasn’t terribly uncommon for him to dream about your experiences with his past reincarnation. Dan Heng thought it was strange at first— Why is he dreaming of your memories rather than Dan Feng’s? But the Archives had no answer, so he was forced to accept the fact with mild curiosity as he grew accustomed to the untraditional visions that manifested as dreams that he has been having.

Still, the strange part wasn’t that he had dreams of you, the strange part was that recently, since the Astral Express left Luofu, Dan Heng has been getting bad dreams of you. Or, to be precise, he’s been experiencing bad memories you have gone through.

Dan Heng thought the torture was the worst of it. As cold blades cut against your warm skin, Dan Heng felt each push. Each puncture. Each drop of blood they drew from your veins. He woke up constantly in pain, checking his own body to be sure it wasn’t happening to him.

But he learned a new form of torture that came from the heart. The solitude and loneliness. The knowledge that the one you loved most has perished— Was forced to reincarnate and never see you again.

The pain on his body was temporary. But Dan Heng felt the ache in your soul every minute of every day.

He just doubted there was anything he could do to stop it.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“Y/N,” came a quiet voice from outside the cell. “I came to check on you again.”

You looked up from your thin futon to meet Jing Yuan’s remorseful eyes. Your living conditions have been upgraded from those you’ve experienced for decades now. No longer were you in chains— You had access to a bath, and they even offered you books and enough food to sustain you. All while confined in a cell, of course.

Perhaps they no longer viewed you as a threat. Not that they should have ever viewed you as such in the first place. You didn’t understand why you were punished solely for being Dan Feng’s lover. You weren’t a warrior. You didn’t hold any position of power. You were a scholar and lover of books and plants. But you’re an accomplice, the Preceptors said as they mercilessly chained you up.

If you weren’t knocked into unconsciousness moments after, you would’ve spit at their faces as they took you away.

“Y/N…”

You snapped out of your thoughts, dragging your gaze to the man in front of your cell. Placing your book to the side, you smiled up at Jing Yuan. “Sorry about that. I was a little out of it there.”

Jing Yuan frowned and your heart moved, feeling the depth of his sadness. “No need to apologize. Tell me, how have you been?”

“Good, I have to say,” you said, sitting up straight on your bed. “I’m almost finished with the book you gave me last time.”

He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m glad.”

“Is something the matter?” you asked as you stood and walked over to him, offering a hand of comfort through the iron bars.

Jing Yuan took it, giving you a gentle squeeze before dropped your hand. The rush of human contact, despite how brief it was, coursed through you. It’s been so long since you felt the touch of another person.

“Dan Heng and his friends left the Xianzhou Luofu,” he said solemnly.

Your eyes shut as you let your forehead press against the cool metal of your cell. A tear fell down your cheek but a smile remained on your face. “That’s… That is good. He should be free from this place. Dan Heng is happiest that way, correct?”

“That is how it seems,” Jing Yuan sighed. He held back his words for a moment, hesitant. But as he looked at you, he could not longer keep it in. “Do you still think it was the right decision to not inform Dan Heng that you are here?”

You let out a quiet laugh, taking a seat on the floor and Jing Yuan soon followed suit. “What would he do with that information? What if he felt guilty—? That could hold him back.”

“Are you certain that is a choice for you to make?”

Sighing, you shook your head. It wasn’t your choice to make; it was Dan Heng’s. You knew that deep down inside. But what could you do when you were aware of Dan Heng’s aversion to his past—to any potential connection to Dan Feng? And thus, any connection to you?

You felt it, you dreamed about it. Dan Heng’s hatred for his past reincarnation. You mourned for them. Both Dan Feng and Dan Heng. For the former, you knew it must be hard having no connection to your reincarnation. Was his soul no longer tethered to this world? Perhaps he felt lost, even in the afterlife. For the latter, you did not blame any resentment that came from him. You knew all too well that being judged and punished based off the actions of another person was unjust. You wouldn’t wish it upon anybody.

And so, it made sense to you that Dan Heng wanted to accept his past for what it was, and then be free from it. You did not want to interfere with that. Especially not when he was so close to healing and making a good, happy life for himself.

And now, after Jing Yuan told you Dan Heng and his friends finished their adventures in the Xianzhou Luofu, excited to take on the rest of the galaxies, you thought that maybe you made the right choice. You would be happy enough here, alone in this prison, if you knew your beloved was free.

It was a decision you made yourself, for Dan Heng.

And it was one you hoped you wouldn’t regret.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“Foolish! No!” Dan Heng thrashed in his sleep, wanting to reach out and shake you to your senses. He’s had terrible dream after terrible dream, but this was one he couldn’t simply let go of.

This one seemed more recent than any of the others. That was not a dream of a distant memory from long ago— No, the Astral Express that Jing Yuan spoke of in Dan Heng’s dream had only departed Xianzhou Luofu a few days ago now. That meant you were there, locked up right under his nose, for the entirety of his stay at the Luofu. And no one told him a thing.

Dan Heng had to control his fury. He felt hurt and betrayed, despite not having a true, personal connection with you himself. He wasn’t Dan Feng and, deep down, he recognized he didn’t have a claim to your thoughts, feelings, and emotions. But the pain he felt from knowing you were there, and that maybe, just maybe, he could’ve done something to help you sooner, was something Dan Heng couldn’t shake.

He knew what he had to do.

Perhaps it was bold, impulsive, and maybe dismissive of their current plans, but he had to do it. Dan Heng took a deep breath, not waiting for the night to turn into day. He was going to ask Pom-Pom to please turn this damn train around.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“Where are they?”

Much to no one’s surprise, Jing Yuan seemed to know exactly what Dan Heng was talking about. What else could be important enough for Dan Heng to barge into the Seat of Divine Foresight without a word of warning?

Jing Yuan quickly excused the meeting he was holding, biding a quick apology and saying they would reconvene shortly. Despite the newfound privacy, he still didn’t reveal anything to Dan Heng.

“Well, good afternoon to you as well, Dan Heng—”

“Stop. There’s no time for formalities right now.” Dan Heng folded his arms, hands clutched into tight fists by his sides. “Where are the Preceptors keeping them? And why the hell haven’t you done anything to help Y/N?”

With a heavy sigh, Jing Yuan took a seat in his chair, gesturing Dan Heng to sit across from him. A gesture Dan Heng pointedly ignored. He wasn’t here to sit down and take his time. He wanted to know where you were now so he could get you out of there. The torture, the poor treatment, the punishment for something you didn’t do... It wasn’t fair. He could hardly put up with it in his dreams. He wondered how it was possible for you to even be surviving all this time.

“It may surprise to you here,” Jing Yuan stated, voice low, “but as much influence I have over Xianzhou, the Preceptors unfortunately remain untouched by that.”

Dan Heng’s grip loosened, momentarily feeling guilty for assuming Jing Yuan did not try to help you in any way. From what his dreams could see, Jing Yuan was one of the only people who frequently visited you— Which was already more than he could say for himself.

His face hardened but he relented. “I’m sorry for suggesting such a thing.”

Jing Yuan gave him a half-smile through hooded eyes. “If you hold any recollection of Dan Feng’s time with them, I don’t blame you for having such a severe reaction. Y/N was—is…remarkable.”

“I shouldn’t know that myself,” said Dan Heng quietly. “Yet somehow, I know you’re right.”

He looked at the ground solemnly, suddenly frightened that he wouldn’t be able to do anything to help you after all. If the Cloud Knight General Jing Yuan couldn’t influence the Preceptors, what could he do?

He shook the negative thoughts out of his head. Sure, Dan Heng wasn’t Jing Yuan, but he was the reincarnation of Dan Feng, the previous High Elder and Imbibitor Lunae. Dan Heng was the friend and ally of current High Elder Bailu. Dan Heng had the General backing him with a token of alliance. And Dan Heng would stop at nothing to free you from your shackles.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

The process was more painstaking than Dan Heng had originally thought. After informing Jing Yuan of his plan to speak to Bailu, Dan Heng soon realized that conversing with her would be the easiest part.

The Dragon Lady was kind and had a good heart. She cared for other people and didn’t want to see anyone in pain. The difficult part came from feeling the lack of respect the Preceptors had for her. They treated her as more of a child than a High Elder, even withholding her title of Imbibitor Lunae until they deemed she was “of age.” But Dan Heng thought she had more sense and knowledge than all of the Preceptors combined.

It took negotiations, possible acts of coercion that broke many Vidyadhara laws, and even the threat of Dan Heng to follow in his past life’s footsteps and destroy the seal at Scalegorge Waterscape and many more places… But Dan Heng, along with the assistance and backing of Bailu and Jing Yuan, finally got the Preceptors to agree to release you without forcing a reincarnation.

You had suffered decades for a crime you had no hand in committing. The Preceptors were simply scared your love for Dan Feng would influence you to be a main headpiece in carrying out the rebellion against the Xianzhou Luofu—hence why those in charge had originally agreed to keep you here. But Jing Yuan was the residing general now, and with his army at his side, he was able to voice that he no longer viewed imprisonment on this land to be befitting of you as a solid conclusion. Bailu stated, as a complete bluff that anyone could have seen right through, that if you were not released immediately and given the opportunity to be reconnected with Dan Heng, she would no longer be as willing to repair any seals, should they be harmed in the future.

Somehow, instead of all three of them getting locked up for treason or whatever Vidyadhara laws they horribly crossed, they managed to succeed in their goal of winning your freedom. The Preceptors wrote in their official records the release date of prisoner Y/N and agreed to escort one of them to your cell.

Jing Yuan and Bailu, of course, both opted for Dan Heng to be the person who sees you first. But only after making him promise they would get to see you once you settled into your new life.

Dan Heng smiled, thanking them for their part in this operation. And when night came, he spoke his vow to you under the endless stars.

He would see you soon. And this time, he would never let anything bad happen to you again.

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“More peonies?” you asked with a laugh, staring in awe at the field of flowers that were newly planted on the grounds of your estate. The bright colors of the petals flushed against the dark green of the leaves lined the gardens of your grand quarters.

Dan Feng nodded, the trimmings on his sleeves detailed with the faint embroidery of petals dancing around the wind. Your heart warmed when you saw it. It was fitting for him, such a beautiful and caring soul.

“I had them planted for you,” he said, gesturing at the arrangement around you. He smiled, his eyes glinting. “Because one cartful just wasn’t enough.”

You shook your head as you went around the rows of peonies, touching the petals in awe of the spring bloom in the air. The smell was sweet and the wind was cool, providing the right amount of breeze to offset the heat of the sun. First, you went to the patch of white peonies, then pink, then red. Then, you noticed a shade Dan Feng hadn’t given to you before.

“Yellow peonies?” you said curiously, Dan Feng following along as you explored the gardens fit for royalty. Because, he had said before, to him, you were.

“Indeed.” He plucked one from the bush, careful not to ruin the stem of the plant itself. Slowly, he brought it up against the light in the sky. “Yellow. As radiant as the sun.”

You stared up, shading your eyes as to not get blinded by the brightness. “It shines almost as brightly as you.”

Dan Feng made a noise of amusement at your words. “I should be the one saying that to you.”

“Perhaps you should speak faster,” you teased.

You walked over to him, placing your hand in his and leading him to a field of grass. When you got to an area you liked, you sat down on the floor, gesturing for him to follow suit. Dan Feng brushed at the fabric of his clothes once before happily obliging. As you sat there, you looked over at Dan Feng and studied the look of serenity on his face. His expression was calm, his eyes were soft and the corners of his mouth tilted ever so slightly into a smile. In the hand that was not holding yours, he held the yellow peony still in hand.

“Does it symbolize anything? Like the others?”

He nodded. “Yellow peonies are rare to come by. Only the most renowned of breeders can craft one to the perfect shade.”

At his words, you looked back at the abundant row of yellow peonies dressing your land. You wondered how much effort he went through in searching for the perfect shade to gift you.

“They’re to symbolize my wishes for you,” stated Dan Feng, toying with the edge of a petal with his thumb. “I wish to bestow upon you luck and prosperity, for the rest of your life.”

“I think I’ve used all the luck I possibly could, finding someone like you,” you giggled, bumping your shoulder against his before leaning your head on it. Dan Feng breathed deeply, resting his head on top of yours. “And the only prosperity I wish for is to be prosperous in love. With you.”

He laughed, a deep rumble vibrating against your body. “So, all your wishes of luck and prosperity have already come true? What need was there for me to gift you these flowers, then?”

You held your palm out, waiting for Dan Feng to place the yellow peony at its center. He gently laid it there, letting his fingers linger against your skin.

“I’m glad you gifted me these,” you reassured him. “Now, when I walk by, they will always serve as a reminder of the radiant peony right in front of me.”

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

The next morning, Dan Heng entered the dark corridor with a flower tucked into a hidden pocket of his outer garments.

While he was nervous about how you might react to him going against your wishes that you expressed to Jing Yuan, his determination to assure your freedom was more than enough to counteract that. If Dan Heng truly wanted to be freed of his past and atone for the wrongdoings of Dan Feng, he would need to make sure no one else was being punished for his actions.

He had helped repair the Ambrosial Arbor’s seal at Scalegeorge Waterscape, to atone for Dan Feng’s acts against the current High Elder and all of the Luofu Vidyadhara. Now, he would release you from decades of unjust punishment you suffered simply for being associated with him.

“Y/N, you have a visitor,” one of the Preceptors said dryly, unlocking a cell. The hooded man could hardly hide the look of distaste on his face a before he rolled his eyes and walked away. “I’m sure you two must have plenty to catch up on. Leave here quickly before we change our minds.”

Dan Heng peered into the entrance, his gaze meeting your confused and alarmed face in an instant.

You looked between Dan Heng and the open cell, not a Preceptor in sight. “Is this a test?”

He shook his head, showing you the official pardon signed by Bailu, Jing Yuan, and a representative of the Preceptors. You held the document in your hands, reading its contents and feeling the seal to believe it’s legitimacy, before giving it back to him. He felt your hands tremble as you made brief contact with his and he was overcome with the urge to comfort you.

“This isn’t a test,” he promised, looking into your eyes in hopes you would see the truth in them. “You really are free from here.”

You let out an amused noise of disbelief, shaking your head. “Oh, Dan Heng… What did you do?”

He startled at the sound of his name coming from your lips. He was so accustomed to you only repeating Dan Feng over and over in his dreams that this felt almost refreshing.

“Rather, what did Jing Yuan do?” you corrected, laughing quietly as you stood up from your seated position. Your robes, once beautifully crafted, were worn and tattered. But the light in your eyes never waned. “I told him not to tell you.”

“He didn’t,” said Dan Heng. He considered his statement before adding, “I suppose eventually he did confirm it, but I was the one who confronted him about it.”

You raised a curious brow. “And how, pray tell, did you know about this…situation?”

“From my dreams.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. For once, you were speechless.

“I know it’s more normal to have dreams about your past reincarnation,” he stated, neatly folding the document in his hands before sliding it away into his pocket. “But, while I occasionally had dreams of Dan Feng’s life—bad ones normally, might I add—it’s been more common to have dreams of you.”

With a slow and shaky breath, you shut your eyes to think. “You’d had dreams of Dan Feng’s memories of me, do you mean?”

He shook his head. “No. They’re dreams of your memories. Some included your moments with Dan Feng from long ago, yes. Others were you in this prison. A recent one was of Jing Yuan visiting you and in it you said not to tell me about this.”

You chuckled helplessly. “What good did that do, after all?”

“Why didn’t you want me to know? Why didn’t you want me to help you?”

“It wasn’t that!” you protested, your eyes telling stories your words could not keep up with. You sighed. “Okay, it was.”

Dan Heng let out a sharp breath.

“However, it’s not for the reasons you might be thinking,” you corrected, arms folded over your chest. “I’ve come to accept my life being imprisoned here. It’s given me a lot of time to think and reflect. And, similar to you, I’ve occasionally had dreams of you, Dan Heng.”

He tilted his head to the side.

“They weren’t long nor were they frequent. But what I have gathered from them, scarce as they were, is you resent Dan Feng. You don’t want any ties to your past. And you’ve accomplished so much growth and closure, finally freeing yourself from all that burdened you. What good would it be to drag you back here and make you relive this?”

“You sound ridiculous.”

His words were harsh and it stopped you right in your tracks. You stared at him, eyes wide as they peered into his, but he couldn’t let that stop the words of logic from coming out of his mouth.

“You’re not a saint nor are you a martyr. You don’t have to try to be one. You’re a person, and for that you should be free in your own right. You’re a Vidyadhara, trapped and punished for actions that were not your own. I understand what you’ve been through— I’ve been there, too.” Dan Heng held his hand out to you from outside your prison cell, waiting for you to walk out and accept it. “Furthermore, you are a kind and loving soul, and you don’t deserve to spend a single moment in this place. Please, accept my help.”

Your cheeks were wet as you nodded your head. Slowly, you placed your cold, shaky hand in his. He felt your cool skin against his warm one and he enveloped your hands gently, brushing your knuckles with his thumb to share the heat in his body.

“I’ve wanted to get out of here so badly,” you admitted through silent tears. “I hated being confined and alone. I felt helpless. Pathetic.” He watched with a heavy heart as you wiped your own tears away. Could he reach out and do it for you instead? He chastised himself. As much as he wanted to, he had no right. “But you suffered so much in your past life—in this life even. I didn’t want to cause you any more pain.”

Dan Heng shook his head. “What brings me the most pain is knowing you were suffering for so long, and I didn’t help you.”

“How could you help when you didn’t know?” you reasoned with a sad smile. “I’m sorry for making Jing Yuan promise to never let you know.”

His eyes squeezed shut as a sharp pang ran through his heart. “Please. Please promise me you won’t do something like that again. If you need me, I want to be there for you. Always.”

You gaze widened at his words before you recollected yourself.

Dan Heng winced as he understood what he said. His mind and soul were confused. He knew he wasn’t Dan Feng, that this was the first moment he has ever had with you. But why does he feel like he’s known you forever?

After a few moments of silence, as if you were giving him time to amend what he said, you finally spoke. “Okay. I promise.”

He felt every muscle in his body relax at those words. He knew the promise you spoke was true to your heart. Dan Heng believed it with all his being and he let that console him.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

With one of your hands still in his, he slowly led you out of the corridor and up the stairs, away from your cold and dark prison.

“What are you going to do now that you’re free?” Dan Heng asked, hating himself for hoping your future plans would somehow include keeping in touch with him. “Will you…stay on the Luofu?”

Your body tensed as a shiver went down your spine. You shook your head fervently as your expression twisted into one of grief. Dan Heng’s heart stirred at the sight. He knew that feeling all too well, and it pained him knowing you had similar conflicts to go through. “No, that’s the last thing I want to do. I won’t stay here. At least not now.”

“I understand.”

You gave him a weak, but hopeful smile as he squeezed your hand softly.

“And you?” you wondered, looking at him with thoughtful and eyes as you awaited his response.

“I’m going to the Astral Express to continue on with our adventures,” he said with his lips upturned. “It’s a great place to call home, especially when you’ve lost the only place you had once called home.” He stared at you for a moment. “If you would like to join us—join me—I think you would very much enjoy it.”

You teared up at his offer. “Can you really just invite people like that?”

Dan Heng briefly thought of the girl they picked us as an icicle and the boy who they found with no knowledge of the past. He considered your situation. “Yes, we really can.”

The sunlight from outside finally started shining through the walkway, signaling that you were almost out as a freed person.

“Also,” he said, before he could forget, “I, myself, would want you to come join our crew, even if it’s only for a little while. You can stay for as long as you want, and leave whenever you want as well.”

Your ears perked up at that. “I like the sound of that. If the Astral Express will have me, then I would love to join.”

Dan Heng smiled as he patted the top of your head. Your body relaxed at his touch as you leaned into him, and he continued to hold onto you as you approached the exit. “No one will threaten your freedom ever again. That is my oath to you.”

You started at him, brows furrowed in determination. “And I vow the same to you. These new beginnings will bring only freedom and prosperity.”

At that word, Dan Heng suddenly remembered the small gift he brought for you. He blushed as he felt the soft petals of the peony in his large pocket.

“I have something for you,” he said, slowly stopping in his tracks. He turned towards you and you followed suit, tilting your head to the side in question. “It’s nothing big. But it’s a token. A reminder.”

He held out the peony in one hand, watching as your eyes lit up at the sight of it. Your mouth widened as you let out a noise of laughter, accepting his gift and holding it close to your chest.

“Thank you, Dan Heng,” you said, tears of happiness filling your eyes. “I love it.”

It wasn’t yellow— He wasn’t the bright and radiant Dan Feng you knew and loved. It wasn’t red or pink, even. While he felt traces of love and attraction for you from his past memories, he knew in his heart that wasn’t really him developing those feelings for you.

Instead, it was a white peony.

You were always in his thoughts. It was both a blank slate, and a gentle reminder. He would never forget you, and as he got to experience life with you, who knew what dashes of color would be mixed in next with this pearly white.

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