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flowerandblood · 3 days

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The Downfall (Oneshot)

[ Hamlet • dark Aemond x Ophelia • female ]

[ warnings: dubcon, sex content, fingering, virgnity loss, violence, suicide, angst, smut, obsession, remorse ]

[ description: When she attracts the attention of Prince Aemond during the wedding feast of his brother and his sister, she knows that something terrible is going to happen. His figure lunges towards her like black storm clouds and she feels that, along with his desire, he will bring on her downfall. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

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"Tis I who should receive this honour. I, second son, rider of the greatest dragon in the world, experienced in wielding the sword, educated in history and philosophy, 'tis I who should…" He didn't finish, pressing his lips into a thin line. He stopped in the middle of his chamber, not looking at her but at the floor, his eye wide open in rage, his nostrils twitching in accelerated breath.

She swallowed hard, clenching her fingers on the material of her gown as she sat in one of the chairs at the table, fearful of him as usual when he behaved in this way, making her unsure once again how to act.

To endorse his words would have meant betrayal, so she had to remain silent, though her heart was pounding like mad in her chest, a drop of cold sweat running down the back of her neck.

Their betrothal had come as a surprise to her; the prince had caught sight of her at a grand wedding feast held in honour of his brother and his sister, dancing among dozens of other couples.

She dared not look at him, knowing of the arrangements between the Red Keep and Storm's End, not wanting to ridicule herself by begging like some of the women from respectable houses for his attention.

Apparently that was what made his bright, cold, dangerous eye notice her figure and his sight did not leave her until the end of the evening. At first she thought she was just imagining it, then, however, glancing towards the table standing in front of the Iron Throne she met his gaze, his lips curving into a grin that was disturbing to say the least.

She was terrified.

The next day, her father was asked to extend their stay in the Red Keep and enjoy the King's hospitality, though it was not explained to them for what reason.

She was frightened because she understood what it meant and she never went anywhere alone, always taking a servant with her, having heard numerous stories of what Prince Aegon did to women who caught his eye.

She didn't want to see for herself if his younger brother was the same.

It seemed to her that black clouds had gathered over her, that it was a matter of time when something would happen, and indeed, when she came across him passing through the courtyard during one of his sparring sessions, though she turned her head away, his deep, mocking voice stopped her.

"My Lady."

She swallowed hard, knowing that if she didn't answer anything, if she didn't look at him, she would commit a great discourtesy and offend him.

She couldn't afford it.

Therefore, she turned towards him, looking at the ground, seeing only his legs and waist clad in black leather garments, bowing in front of him.

"Your Highness."

She felt for a moment that her heart stood in her throat, the only thing she could hear around her was the clinking of steel and the voices of servants discussing something with each other behind her back. She saw the legs she was looking at move towards her and she closed her eyes.

"What a scared little bird you are. Hm?" He hummed, his voice soft and teasing at the same time, amused, as if he were speaking to a small child.

She swallowed hard and looked up at him – he towered over her with a smirk that was mysterious and unsettling, his healthy eye bright and wide open, his gaze piercing to the core, his lips swollen and full.

She felt herself grow hot with shame.

What was she supposed to answer to such a question?

The prince cocked his head, apparently ignoring her silence, taking advantage of the fact that they were standing so close to each other, watching her as if she were some curious being he had never seen before.

"I watched you dance last night. Did you feel my gaze lingering on your figure?" He asked, and she swallowed heavily, lowering her gaze, involuntarily betraying herself. The Prince grinned under his breath, seeing her reaction.

"You did." He said and looked to the side, as if he wanted to make sure no one would hear what he was about to say, leaning over her ear. "I will marry you."

She drew in the air loudly, shocked and surprised, freezing for a moment, tense, looking at him with big eyes and shook her head, not understanding how he could say such a thing. He, however, only grinned broadly in a way that made her shudder and stepped away from her, turning to Ser Criston Cole, letting him know that they could continue.

Ser Criston gave her one terrified look that told her everything.

She was doomed.

She didn't tell her father about the prince's words because she was convinced that he was mocking her, wishing for certain that she would succumb to him and spend the night with him only to disappear from his life forever. She knew she couldn't let that happen if she wanted to marry any self-respecting lord and decided she would just stay inside her quarters.

And then their betrothal was announced.

There was a feeling of emptiness in her mind as she looked at him, at the wide, mischievous grin stretched across his face as he sat at the table, while his mother, the Queen, spoke to her of the King's decision, apparently persuaded by his son, wondering how she was supposed to tame such a man, tame such a fiery, unpredictable nature.

She was scared.

To her despair, her father had been invited to take on the role of one of the treasurers under the direct authority of the Small Council, which he welcomed with joy. It meant that their family was to stay in the Red Keep, and her betrothed could slowly clamp his claws around her neck.

He followed her like a wraith, sinking her further and further into his darkness, making her slowly melt into one with him, not knowing where his soul ended and hers began.

On the day he was to see his nephews again years later, she locked herself in her chamber, unwilling to watch this theatre of malice and humiliation, knowing what her betrothed thought of them, how often he mused about slitting their throats or gouging out their eyes to later gift them to his mother.

She knew he was furious, wanting to show her off like a pretty object he had in his possession, but she offered him a passive resistance that drove him to the brink of madness.

She drew in a loud breath as he surprised her by silently sneaking up to her chamber at night – she heard the loud creak of the wood beneath his body as he lay down behind her. His one hand took place on her womb, as if he was already imagining in the back of his mind as it swelled from his seed, the other went under her jaw, stroking her skin warningly, his lips against her ear.

"You're hiding from me. You're avoiding me. You move through the keep like a shadow." He whispered, however there was no threat or frustration in his words, which she felt instead in his hand that slowly clenched around her long neck. She swallowed quietly, looking ahead at the night, starry sky outside the window.

She did not answer him.

She rarely used words in his presence.

Unfortunately, this only deepened the state she aroused in him.

A curiosity bordering on obsession.

She tilted her head back and sighed involuntarily, feeling the tickling heat spilling over her lower abdomen as his moist, full lips ran over her cheek, the tip of his tongue leaving a wet, cool trail on her hot skin.

"– I needed you –" He hissed in a trembling voice, pressing his body against hers from behind, his hard, swollen manhood hidden under the material of his breeches pushed against her buttocks, pulsing steadily. Her nipples hardened at his words, a shiver of fear and excitement ran down her spine.

His hand from her womb slid lower, between her thighs, his fingers closed on her womanhood – she knew how he learned these tricks, knew that he had played with whores before he met her, but she couldn't convince herself that she particularly cared.

The delicacy and uncertainty of the movements of his fingers did not match how she perceived him: apparently it seemed to him that one too aggressive gesture on his part and she would fall apart in his hands.

Thus, he merely teased her through the material of her nightgown, waiting as usual for her breath to grow heavy and ragged, for her buttocks to begin to rock to the flicks of his wrist and rub against his throbbing erection.

They both moaned quietly as his hand impatiently lifted the material of her long robe, seeking the warmth between her thighs and finally found it, her pulsing, swollen slit leaking from her sticky wetness.

The fingers of his hand from her neck rose higher, to her cheeks, closing on it in a rough gesture, forcing her to turn her face in his direction – she didn't resist him as his slick tongue burst deep between her lips, as his mouth pressed against hers with a loud, lewd click in a greedy, ravenous kiss that took her breath away.

She let him do whatever he wanted with her lips – he was sucking, licking and biting them, as if he were some kind of animal that had grabbed its prey and wasn't going to let her go until he devoured her.

She didn't care, because her mind seemed to be muffled, as if she was underwater, focused only on the touch of his fingers as they dug into her puffy, delicate folds, teasing again and again her warm, pulsing slit.

Her body tensed like a string, knowing what he was about to do, and then at last the tips of his fingertips broke into her hot, throbbing interior with a quiet click of her moisture.

She moaned a tad too loudly into his mouth, making him sigh deeply into her throat, freezing for a moment, his hard erection slapping impatiently against her buttocks.

"– fuck –" He gasped, startling her completely, letting her go and turning her onto her back, laying on top of her, looking at her with his mouth parted wide, breathing heavily.

She had thought that, as was his custom, he would just simply take out his manhood and make her squeeze it with her hand, touching her at the same time to give her fulfillment.

He, however, after he untied the material of his breeches, grabbed her nightgown with his hands and lifted it above her thighs, making her voice froze in her throat, her hands clasped helplessly on his shoulders.

"– n-no – no, please –" She muttered, knowing that if he took her maidenhood, took what he desired, he would never marry her, would send her and her father back to where they came from humiliated and ridiculed.

"– I need this – I need to feel you –" He breathed out, as if he was in some kind of frenzy, heedless of her helpless attempts to stop him, forcing her to spread her thighs open. She cried out, tilting her head back and closed her eyes as she felt the fat head of his cock begin to push against her swollen slit.

"– no – please, Aemond, please –" She whimpered, raising her trembling hands to his cheeks, stroking his jaw, trying to give him what he wanted, what he was apparently dreaming of in his black, grim mind.

"– you don't understand –" He growled, in a sharp, impatient motion trying to slide deeper into her, opening her little cunt on his throbbing, long erection. "– I fucking needed you today –"

She whined as he forced his way deeper into her body, filling her so much that she felt like he was going to tear her apart from the inside, clenching her fingers against the material of his leather tunic, shocked at how foreign, frightening, painful and exciting this sensation was.

"– I know – I know, just a little bit more – it's almost in – shhhh –" He hushed her, stroking her head with his broad hand as he thrusted his thick root all the way in into her, one last cry of effort left her lips.

She seemed to feel him with her whole being, breathing loudly through her mouth, feeling like she was suffocating, her heart pounding like mad, her whole body quivering in his arms, his lips placing warm, moist, reassuring kisses on her cheek.

"– thaaat's it – there we go – I'm going to start moving now –" He hummed, in a slow, lazy manner beginning to rock with his hips, sliding out of her a little and sliding back in with a quiet click, trying to force her body to adapt to his shape and receive him with greater ease.

He hugged her face to the hollow of his neck, without accelerating or making sudden movements, letting her fingers tighten vulnerably on his back.

"– good girl – calm down and let me fill you with my seed –" He whispered, as if he wanted to soothe her, to reassure her that he took no pleasure in her discomfort and suffering, even though he himself was the cause of it.

She nodded, not having the strength to stand up to him, breathing loudly to relax, to endure what he wanted to do to her. A low, loud groan of pleasure erupted from his lips when he felt it, and his thrusts became a little more sure, deep, loud.

"– g-gods –" She breathed out, feeling with horror that he was teasing a spot inside her from which shivers ran through her, waves of cold terror and hot pleasure surging through her body, causing a complete void in her mind, all she could focus on was the wooden canopy of the bed above her head.

"– yes – ah – so fucking wet for me – all warm and soft –" He breathed out into her ear, licking her hot cheek with his tongue, pounding into her with sharp, deep thrusts of his hips, making her feel the tickle in her lower abdomen, in her puffy lips and in her hard nipples, the bed beneath them beginning to creak loudly.

She felt the familiar hot tension building within her, the tension that he aroused in her when he touched her with his fingers, that, to her despair, she began to take pleasure from this animalistic, simple act of slapping their naked, sweaty bodies against each other.

She tilted her head back and sighed as she let her hips tentatively begin to rock to his thrusts, her hands slid from his back to his bare buttocks, stroking them. He shuddered all over and groaned, blindly seeking her mouth with his own, joining her in a sticky, messy, loud kisses, licking and sucking her lips.

"– yes – yes, just like that, fuck, little one, fuck, fuck, fuckkk –" He gasped, pressing his forehead to hers, slamming into her so quickly and aggressively that he was barely sliding out of her, his thighs slapping against her buttocks again and again, opening her wide on his fat cock.

They both were moaning shamelessly, looking at each other wide-eyed with their mouths open, listening to the shameless, sticky sounds her slick cunt made with each of his thrusts.

"– just a little more – ah – f-fuck, yes –" He groaned in elation, his final, deep, sloppy thrusts prolonging the inevitable, she heard and understood little as a wave of pleasure shook her and something hot spilled deep inside her, their mingled wetness ran down her buttocks.

"– such a good girl –" He gasped, throbbing inside her for a moment longer, filling her with the remains of his spend.

"– Aemond –" She mumbled, feeling her little cunt clamp down on his half-hard manhood, sucking it inside her again and again.

He fell on top of her without strength, panting heavily, and they both remained silent for long time. She finally heard him swallow hard, not even daring to look at her, his face sunk into the hollow of her neck.

"– will you forigve me, little bird? –" He muttered in a weak, deep, trembling voice.

At his question a single tear of sadness, regret and emptiness ran from the corner of her eye down to the side of her face, falling onto his forehead.

He felt it and lifted himself on his arm, wanting to look at her, but what he saw apparently made something inside him break.

He clamped his eyelid shut, swallowed hard and pressed his body against hers, burying his face in the pillow.

She didn't know why her hand lifted and laid on his head, stroking his hair with gentle, calm movements, why she felt a squeeze in her heart, why she wanted to comfort him.

Why she let him stay with her that night, cuddled into to her as if he were a small child.

And then the King died.

Her betrothed walked into her chamber the next day, pale, not looking into her eyes, twitching all over, as if in shock.

"My father is dead…" He began, and her mouth opened wide, looking at him in horror.

"… and my grandfather demands that I marry one of Lord Baratheon's daughters."

She stared at him dully, feeling her heart stop in her chest, her stomach twisting in pain as if she was about to vomit.

"I admitted to my grandfather what I did to you. I refused to let him send you away. You will become a Septa. You will be safe and retain your dignity I wrongfully took from you." He said and flinched hard as she grinned at his words, looking at her in disbelief.

"Do you think I'm surprised? I knew you wouldn't keep your word the day I saw you."

It seemed to her that something in her words broke him, for his lower lip began to tremble without the participation of his free will, his eye turned red, his nostrils twitched in heavy, accelerated breathing.

He was unable to get anything out of himself.

On the evening of the day before she was to leave the Red Keep, she demanded that a bath be prepared for her.

She knew he would come to her, she knew his conscience would not let her go without a farewell, she knew he would want to take her one more time before he abandoned her once and for all.

When she was left alone she slipped under the water, sinking her head into it as well, and closed her eyes, feeling strangely calm as the air stopped flowing into her lungs, a shudder shook her body indicating that some part of her still wanted to live.

It was said afterwards that the prince had found her and pulled her out of the water, that he had sobbed and wailed over her bare body, that he had locked her in his embrace, not allowing anyone to come near her, kneeling with her cuddled into his chest on the cold stone floor.

It was said that after that evening he stopped to speak and leave his chamber, staring dully into the fire for hours, playing between his fingers with a lock of her hair, the only memento he had left of her.

It was said that the prince's heart had died with her.

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bueckerslover · 2 days

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SWEET LOVE - CAITLIN CLARK

summary𞠬: hiii could you write caitlin clark x reader where she has a crush on a singer in the same level as taylor swift (like super famous, eyes on them all the time etc etc etc) pls and thank u!!

warnings:N/A (at least i don’t think so)

tags: @patscorner @wintersstan @pbueckerslover @h34rtsformilli @cosmopretty

masterlist | navigation | taglist | 1

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

ITS BEEN TWO DAYS since your encounter with caitlin. it’s been a weird experience knowing that you two were staying in the same hotel.

sure you never ran into each other due to your different schedules, but knowing she was here was enough to get you on edge, even more today, you’re manger had told you that they got courtside tickets to iowas game.

just your luck, sure you didn’t mind going to the game but knowing thousands of people are going to be there that knew who she was and who you were.

as you walked in eyes and cameras were immediately on you, you tried your hardest to ignore them and enjoy the game but it was difficult with people coming up to you and asking for photos or autographs. surely as soon as the players started to come out everything died down.

but your heart rate didn’t, as soon as she stepped on the court your heart rate picked up the way her ponytail moved with her movements, she got to her spot on the court ready to start her warmups when her eyes landed on yours.

a smile made its way to her face and she gave you a small wave which you returned as she turned her focus back towards her warmups.

throughout the whole game you tried your hardest not to look at her but your eyes kept moving towards her and everything she did.

as the game came to an end you got your things ready to leave when a hand tapped your shoulder “hey!” you said with a smile “hi! thank you so much for coming to my game” said caitlin with a huge smile going in for a side hug “of course, you guys did amazing!”

“hey by any chance are you free this weekend?” asked caitlin fidgeting with the towel she had in her hands “yea, i should be free” you said looking back at your manager who gave you a slight nod as to say yes. “okay, because i was wondering if you would want to maybe go have lunch or dinner with me” she whispered the last part but not low enough for you not to hear her, “sure i would love to! here’s my number and text me the details later” you replied scribbling down your number on a piece of paper.

the weekend came faster than you could imagine, nerves were bubbling in your stomach as the time for your date with caitlin arrived. you were doing some finishing touches when your phone lit up with a notification “i’m outside :)”

butterflies filled your stomach as you read the message. she was outside your hotel room you couldn’t believe it, quickly gathering your things you headed towards the door. opening it you were met with a very nervous looking caitlin, at least you weren’t the only one, you smiled at her “hey” you said trying to ease up your own nerves “hi, ready?” she replied with a shy smile “yup! where are we headed?” you asked closing your door and walking to the elevator.

“you’ll see” replied caitlin with a look in her eyes you couldn’t quite figure out. walking down the streets of ohio you came across this cute little italian restaurant, you look at caitlin to see she’s already looking at you with a lovestruck smile. she opens the door for you “welcome to valerio’s do you have a reservation?” said the waitress with a friendly smile “yes! it’s under the name caitlin”

“right this way” said the waitress as she led you guys to a table near a window. “this is nice” you spoke looking around taking in the restaurant and how beautiful it was “the best italian restaurant here in cleveland” she says looking at you.

FAMOUS SINGER Y/N L/N WAS SEEN AT VALERIO’S ITALIAN RESTAURANT WITH AN UNKNOWN PERSON. WE SUSPECT SHE MAY BE SEEING SOMEONE, THE SINGER WAS LAST SEEN WITH.. read more

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #wnba #wcbb x reader #wlw #fanfic #wcbb #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes #iowa women’s basketball #university of iowa #iowa state #wnba x reader #wnba basketball #ncaa wbb #wbb x reader #lesbian #lgbtq

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strwberri-milk · 3 days

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Ooo! I saw that u were looking for lnds requests<33 don't mind if I do!

If you can- I'd like to request for zayne and rafayel if you don't mind- with a fem!reader That's high maintenance(with the skincare routine or hair, body care. Like the girly girls) who's had this mindset of "gotta work hard because my lifestyle is too expensive for me". They're also like to compliment other girls and call them pet names like "sweetie, babe, sweetheart, etc."

I just like to know how'd they treat if MC was like that-

Take your time and drink water! Love ya♡♡♡

tbh its girls like this that singlehandedly rescue me from my own internalised misogyny one sweet word at a time

Zayne likes that you have consistent routines that you follow and ambition to work hard. It's similar to the way that he lives his life so it's attractive to him to have someone who models the same principles he lives by. However, just know that nothing is too expensive for him if it comes to you. He doesn't want to see you work yourself into the ground to afford something that he knows you more than deserve and he will routinely surprise you with supplies if you start running low.

He's also a little afraid to ruin anything if you've finished your daily glam. He'll be careful not to get too close to your face or hair, knowing that you work hard to present yourself in a way that makes you feel the most beautiful and he'd be very disappointed with himself if he somehow messed it up. You tease him sometimes about it, telling him that it's not a big deal and he doesn't need to treat you like you're fragile.

Not only that but he loves how big your heart is. You go out of your way to make other people's days and he can't help but smile whenever you excitedly run over to tell someone that you think their shirt is cool or that you love their shoes. Knowing that he's the recipient of love from someone as kind as you always brightens his day and he'll never tire of hearing you tell him about your day and all the people you met.

Rafayel is very similar. He doesn't have an intensive skin care routine but it's definitely there and he is particular about the way his hair looks on certain days. He's primarily picky about how his clothes work so sometimes getting out of the house can be an endeavour for the both of you if neither of you can find exactly the right outfit that you want to wear.

He's nowhere near as friendly as you are but can come off as flirty which means his interactions with strangers is a little different than yours. He never uses pet names for people that can be skewed as something romantic - that's just not his style personally. He doesn't always get upset when you use pet names for strangers but if it's one he decides is specifically his - either a reference to him or just your favourite pet name for him - then he'll get pouty and refuse to give you attention until 1) he cracks or 2) you promise to not use that name with other people. It's always playful and you know he isn't really genuinely upset about it but you do try to keep his preferences in mind because you'd hate to actually hurt his feelings.

Similarly to Zayne nothing is too expensive for him. He doesn't mind that you work hard but he doesn't want you to neglect other aspects of your life to afford the things you like. He'll routinely buy refills for supplies you're running low on or new ones that you've been eyeing. He's definitely the type of boyfriend who'll pay for your nails and hair if you just breathe a word of it towards him without thinking - and give you more than enough to tip the staff.

#love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #lads rafayel x reader #l&ds rafayel x reader #rafayel x reader #lads zayne x reader #l&ds zayne x reader #zayne x reader

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frostbitebakery · 17 hours

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Nutshell.

“Let’s put you out of your misery,” Doom says, checking the charge on his blasters while keeping an eye on the stray droid crawling towards an abandoned E-5 rifle.

“You’re mine,” Doom grits out, gets his fingers around the leg of the droid making for General Tiplar. He pulls, rolls. The droid is on his chest and he clamps an arm around it, sinks his knife into its neck. Wipes the blood out of his eyes.

“I need answers,” Doom says, arms crossed so he doesn’t try to strangle the holo. “See that you get them.”

“I will get them,” Rex promises, voice stoic to resemble a Commander’s.

Doom doesn’t snort but it’s a close call.

“I’m sorry for your lo—“

He flicks the comm off. He doesn’t have the capacity for niceties.

Tiplee is slowly finishing the transport box for her sister. “We fought a lot growing up,” she says. “We were in separate crèche clans even.”

His jaw ticks under his bucket.

“We only grew close once we were both adults. People are in motion, always. In body, in spirit. Sometimes you are only meant to meet at later points in your life even if you’ve known each other since you were born.” She strokes a careful hand over Tiplar’s forehead. “I will let you say your goodbyes.”

Doom steps up to the box once Tiplee is gone.

Tiplar hasn’t gone grey yet. There’s a furrow burnt in her brows, the confusion over a clone shooting her carrying her to death.

“I will watch over her,” he states. Promises don’t mean anything in war. So he doesn’t promise. His heart skips a beat. He was meant to watch over Tiplar as well.

“Botany,” he slurs out, clinks his cup to Tiplee’s when she holds hers up. “I love sunshine. And plants. There’s so many!”

“I’m gonna,” she hiccups, booze sloshing over the rim of her cup when she points at him, “I’m gonna sneak you into the gardens in the Temple and show you the strawberry patch.”

“Sneak?” He thought everything in the Triple Zero Temple is free to roam for all Jedi.

“Totally,” Tiplee agrees with an enthusiastic nod and he realizes he’s spoken aloud. “But sneaking is funnierer— funner— funyun?”

He nods right back. “Funyun sounds right.”

“What do you mean, poisoned?” Doom asks. According to survival sim training, the strawberries look pretty unpoisoned.

Tiplee holds up a berry, turns it around a bit. “The Dark is ever growing. Spreading throughout the Galaxy, into the earth of every planet. It has changed the very matter of things.” She smiles up at him. “I remember them sweeter.”

“I will help your strawberries be the best they can be, I— promise.” He wretches the word out of himself. Pulls and pulls until it’s off his tongue and out in the open. “Hold on until then, yes?”

Tiplee smiles at him, taps her thumb against his temple. “Doom, you have found a place where you feel you are meant to be. It will be alright even if my time has come.”

“Uhm,” he says. Blinks. Swallows.

Maxir leans back, hands disappearing into the robe sleeves. “I’ve read this wrong?”

Probably not? “I don’t know,” he almost says until instinct takes over to not show indecisiveness. “Yes.”

Maxir’s face colors. He doesn’t tend to get cute blush spots high on his cheeks but rather an all consuming flush that looks close to blistering. “I’m sorry. I misjudged. It will not happen again.”

Jedi are so graceful in their apologies, Doom has learned. It’s charming.

He holds up a ripe non-perfect strawberry. “You look like this.”

“I beg your pardon—“

“You’re safe,” Doom gasps, wildly looking at Maxir’s frozen figure. “You’re safe.”

“Come here. Sit down.”

The calm authority in Maxir’s voice has him on his feet and back on the ground before he knows it.

“You are safe,” Maxir reassures him for whatever reason, filling Doom’s spotty vision and leaving room for not much else. “May I touch you?”

It’s a new helper droid. Gangly limbs for reaching deep into the foliage without damaging it. Looking like a B-1. The clippers looking like a blaster.

Its head lies halfway across another crop’s field. The body stabbed with its own limbs and the clippers.

“You are safe.”

Doom doesn’t believe him yet.

“I don’t recognize you anymore,” Doom says to his reflection.

There’s laughter lines around his eyes, his mouth. He has freckles from the sun. Permanent dirt under his nails he recognizes as dirt, not blood. His body is covered in flowers.

Last night he met up with the last of the 962nd and Master Tiplee. Six, Mimic, and a few others had helped him haul around the huge crates of produce into the AgriCorps’ building and kitchen.

They’d blasted each other’s asses while peeling, tasting, cooking, and fighting over seasoning. They fell asleep under the stars, occupying chairs and hammocks dotting the terraces. Tiplee had drooled on his shoulder, the tips of her fingers still red with strawberry juice.

“I don’t recognize you anymore.”

“Mrnng,” Maxir mumbles, slowly shuffling his way past Doom to the shower.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Doom says to his reflection.

“No,” Doom murmurs, wrings his shoulder against the doorframe to Maxir’s office.

The desk is cluttered with data pads and flimsiwork bearing the AgriCorps seal. Analyzing crop conditions and rotations has taken up most of what is left of their day after tending to the fields and labs.

Maxir looks at him over his glasses before pushing them up, ruffling the short hair just under one of the horns. “No? I surely thought there was caf left…”

Doom pushes himself away from the door, takes the three steps to the desk before sitting down on a free-ish spot. “No, you didn’t read it wrong,” he non-explains. “Also, for safety reasons I disposed of the last of the caf.”

Maxir glances at the clock above the desk. “It’s been five hours. The sludge level must still be within reason.”

Doom blinks blandly at him.

Maxir blinks back before it visibly clicks. “Oh!” He buffs the back of his hand against Doom’s thigh. “I told you I’m nearly always right. Also,” he parrots back with a mischievous grin, “the fact we’ve kissed and held hands and you let me dote on you—“

“Excessively.”

“Excessively,” Maxir agrees. “I broke all constraints when I bought you last meal that one time.”

Doom pushes Maxir away from him by way of the rolling chair he’s sitting in while Maxir recalls in detail and with a lot of hand gestures how Doom had gracefully accepted being cared for.

“Or when you let me clean all the petri dishes by myself,” Maxir says excitedly, seat slowly spinning in a circle. “You were snoring so adorably on the lab bench.”

“I regret meeting you.”

“Mimir shoo for half the night cycle!” The chair slowly rotates back towards Doom. Maxir’s eyes soften. “I, for one, am very glad we met when we did.”

WIP and backstory

#commander doom #star wars #star wars tcw #star wars fanart #commander doomxoc #<- sorry about that #my art #frostbitebakery art

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thebestofoneshots · 3 days

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.6 K Warnings: ANGST w/ comfort (but also not?) Prompt: At the Potter's. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 49: High Hopes

January, 3rd, 1977

“Kids, come eat something before you leave,” Hope called from the dining room. You were just finishing up packing, Remus had borrowed you his wand and you were putting everything in place (including a mild arrangement of his room that had been evidently changed since you got there) and he had also allowed you to gemino some of the pictures he had in his wall.

You had picked one with the four Marauders, one of 11 year old Remus and Sirius smiling at the camera, one of James and Sirius when they got on the quidditch team, one of Peter working on the map, the one of Sirius you thought was adorable the first time you saw it, one with Lily and Remus doing a presentation and a few others with Sirius and Remus in which you thought they looked adorable or that you could use to tease them later (Hope had given you a few of Rem that were basically gold).

“Coming,” you said as you grabbed the pictures and started arranging them back onto his wall with a flick of his wand. Thankfully Remus’ wand seemed to like you since every time you used it she would respond and do exactly what you’d intended. “Rem, I’m leaving your wand on the desk,” you said after closing the suitcase and taking it in your hands as you stepped out.

“Sweetheart, let me help you with that,” Hope said as she saw you walk with your suitcase in hand and was surprised when she pulled on it and it shot upwards pretty fast. You managed to catch it and her before she tripped backwards. “Levitation spell,” you said with an apologetic smile.

“Sometimes I forget how many useful spells you wizards have for things like this,” she said with a smile and carefully took the suitcase from your hands and sat it in a corner of the room. “Could you add a spell like that to my suitcases, honey?” she asked as she turned to Lyall who nodded in return. “I don’t get why he didn’t tell me about those earlier,” she added as she shook her head. “I’ve got some fruit in the fridge, could you help me get it?” she asked you.

You nodded and followed, this time the fae had sent her an assortment of tropical fruits, everything from bananas to watermelons and dragonfruit. You weren’t sure how they managed to get such a harvest in the middle of winter, but it probably had to do a lot with fae magic that you didn’t yet understand.

Remus was out of his room with a band shirt and a pair of light-wash jeans. He had one of his jumpers in his hands, but his house was warm enough for him to only wear his shirt and clearly he was confident enough to not wear thousands of layers at home. He didn’t mind if you or his parents saw the scars on his arms, you all knew he was a werewolf, and while he was sometimes self-conscious about you seeing them, you had made it clear –on countless occasions– that you would never be repulsed by them.

So when you saw him, with his sweater casually crumpled up in his hand, you couldn’t help but smile. Hope was looking at you attentively, and she was even more confident about her initial thoughts now than she had been by everything she’d gotten from the letters, she just hoped Remus would understand the reference she had given him so she wouldn’t have to be blunt about it.

“What are Sex Pistols?” Lyall asked in a judgeful manner as he stared at Remus’ shirt with a frown.

You laughed because that was the exact reaction you expected a wizard to have after seeing the shirt and Hope was the one to answer, “A muggle band, you’ve heard them!” She said and then she started singing “Now I’ve got a reason, now I’ve got a reason…” Lyall seemed as puzzled as before and Hope just sighed in defeat, “He’s truly hopeless.”

You refrained from making the “Well he has a Hope” pun since it didn’t seem proper to make puns with the names of your friend’s parents. Although, a big part of you thought Hope wouldn’t really mind.

“I thought you said she was a drummer when she was in a band,” you said, turning to Remus with a gasp.

“I was,” she said with a shrug.

“But your singing is fantastic!”

She smiled. “Someone appreciates it,” she added in an exaggerated tone and walked your way, placed her hands on your back and motioned for you to sit on the table. “Come, darling, you can have all the strawberries left.”

“Mum!” Remus complained.

“You’ve never told me I sing nice, Beag Gille. Suck it up, as you kids would say.”

You had to hold back the giggle that threatened to escape your mouth as you sat down next to Hope. She had prepared some toast for jam. Of course, it wouldn’t be just any bread –this was Hope Lupin we were talking about– it was sourdough with dried cranberries and spices. You were going to eat it with butter and jam (that she had made with fae fruit, obviously) and even cream cheese (that one she bought on the muggle market a few miles from the cliffs, she was extra, but she wasn’t that extra).

Hope really had served all the leftover berries on your plate, and she wouldn’t let you offer them to the boys. “They can eat them whenever they’re here, who knows when you’ll come back,” she explained and told you to ignore their pretty puppy eyes.

At least you weren’t the only one who thought Remus had pretty puppy eyes.

You nodded and continued eating, although you slipped two of them under the table in a very muggle magician kind of way, and nudged Remus’ leg with your own. He looked at you confused and you merely nodded downwards as you brought a piece of bread to your mouth. He looked down and instantly noticed your closed fist.

You nodded again and he pulled his hand down in a casual sort of way, brushing his fingers over your hand to let you know he was there since you were telling Hope something about the floating spell. Eventually, he pulled his palm down underneath your fist and you turned your wrist over to let the berries fall on his hand. He allowed his hand to linger just a little bit more, enjoying the fact that he could touch you, and pulled away eventually. Grinning as he brought a piece of bread with peanut butter to his mouth.

After breakfast, you waved your goodbyes to Remus’ parents. Lyall gave you a quick friendly hug and told you to take care and stay out of trouble while Hope embraced you for at least a minute, pulling you close to her as she did and squeezing you tightly.

“Take care, all right? Cailín álainn?”

You recognised one of those words, It’s what Remus had called you and Sirius once. But why would his mother call you “shit”?

“Álainn?” you asked.

“My beautiful girl, of course,” she added and pressed a kiss to your hair.

What did she say? Beautiful girl?!? But wasn’t that–

“Off you go,” she added after finally separating from the embrace. “To have fun and all of that.”

“But not too much fun,” Lyall added with an accusing finger directed towards Remus, but Hope was quick enough to push that finger out of the way and sigh at her husband.

“All the fun you want,” she said and took a small box from the mantel and opened it, revealing the very classic green of the floo powder.

Remus took a handful and you did the same afterwards. “I’ll go first,” he said and threw the powder on the chimney as he said, “Potter’s Manor,” in a very clear voice.

You were about to do the same when Hope pressed a hand on your shoulder. “You are a very strong woman,” she said as she stared at you directly. “A true hero.” You frowned, ready to refute her when she shook her head. “Take care of my Remus, will you? I know he’ll be taking care of you. You’re very dear to him.”

“Always,” you replied, without family left, your friends had become their equal and you would defend them with all your might if the situation needed it. Something like Christmas could not happen again. You refused to lose any more of your people.

Hope smiled and pulled you into a quick hug, before turning you around with her hands and pushing you towards the chimney, “All right, Cailín álainn, no stalling, there are handsome men waiting for you on the other side.” You threw the powder into the fire. “Oh, and write me, darling. I want to hear all of your misadventures!” she said as you murmured the words and disappeared into the fireplace.

Remus was on the other side, dusting off some remnant ashes from his pants as he looked around the living room, it seemed empty, he had already put on his sweater since the living room was chillier than his house, he was probably also being careful, in case there was anyone other than the Potters in the house.

“Did we arrive at the right time?” you asked with a frown as you too dusted off your shoulder.

“Yeah, they said about 10,” Remus replied as he checked his watch. It was 10:15, not English punctuality but that had been on his mum stalling the two of you.

Then you felt a hand gripping you from behind and pulling you upwards from the waist, you would have panicked, if you hadn’t instantly known it was Sirius. The invisibility cloak he had been wearing slipped from him as he buried his head on your neck. You had talked to Sirius and James every day, but that didn’t stop him from clinging to you the minute he spotted you.

“How are you?” He whispered into your neck.

“Kinda constrained,” you replied as you nodded towards his caging hands.

“You know what I meant.”

You swallowed, not quite sure if you were ready to talk about it all again. Thankfully, Prongs was there to save you. He took off the cloak with a rather exasperated sigh. “Pads! We were supposed to get them at the same time!”

“Sorry,” Sirius mumbled in the least apologetic tone you’d heard.

James shook his head and then pulled Moony into a short hug, “Merry Christmas, mate,” he said and then quite literally ripped you from Sirius’ grasp to give you a bear hug.

“James, James, James,” you said as he overdid it with the squeezing.

“Sorry,” he said as he pulled apart and you just shook your head with a smile in return. Sirius had pulled Remus into a similar hug, and he was still hugging the taller boy when James let go of you. You smiled when you saw how cosy they looked against each other and James placed his arm around your shoulder.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” James said with a smile. “We need to discuss Marauder’s business.”

“But Peter’s not here,” you said. Sirius pulled apart from Remus who looked a little phased, took your suitcase and placed it on the table before plopping down on the sofa.

“He’s on a family trip in Italy, he won’t be back ‘til after vacation, but we’ll write him the details,” Sirius said and then opened his arms and looked at you. “Come?”

You rolled your eyes but did as told, secretly enjoying how clingy Sirius was, and sat on his lap like you often did. James sat on the table in front of you and pulled Moony by the arm so he would sit on the right in front of him, next to you and Sirius.

“We were thinking about a small little prank,” he said, “to mark our coming back to school and all that.”

“Yeah?” You asked, reclining onto Sirius and getting a little more comfortable. Remus, who had had you all to himself for more than a week, was having a rather hard time coping with the sudden space between the two of you. He was tempted to place his hand around Sirius’s shoulders and bring both of you closer to him, but he knew it wasn’t possible.

“So Sirius and I were talking about the time you used the swamp bomb and how we had accidentally trapped a creature inside of it.”

“And,” Sirius started from behind you. “We thought it was really interesting how the creature quite literally busted out the minute you exploded the bomb.”

“It was not interesting,” Remus said almost bitterly. They hadn’t seen you fall, they hadn’t seen you in the water and they hadn’t smelled your fear as you stepped away from the murky water and frosted the lake.

“From an impartial point of view,” you added with a shrug, clearly trying to excuse the boys’ words, you wouldn’t have used interesting to describe it either, but you kind of got what they meant by it. Remus had to hold back a scoff. He was having a hard time tolerating the bursting of the comfortable bubble you had both been immersed in.

“Sorry Vix,” Sirius said with an apologetic look. “But hear us out. What if we put not one, but several creatures inside of a swamp bomb.”

“Define creatures…”

“Tadpoles,” Sirius said from behind, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“You want them to turn into toads,” Remus said as he looked at the two boys, now a bit more invested in the prank. “Why?”

“Because we want to infest Hogwarts with Toads,” James said with a satisfied smile. Sirius pulled a small crystal ball from his pocket and handed it over to you. Very condensed inside it, there was thick murky water.

You took a look, “How many of them did you put in here?” you asked as you handed the ball to Remus, he pulled his hand faster than he normally would from yours, which made you frown. What’s with him?

“About 17 dozen, Peter found a spawning bed filled with hundreds of them and the idea just came to us in an instant.”

“We’ve been flying through the grounds to find some more, but most of them are frozen due to the snow.”

“How many have you made?” You asked.

James smiled, pulled a handful from his pocket, and placed it between your hands. Then he pulled another one and left it in Remus' hands. “Peter will be getting more in Italy, he promised.”

“So we’ll have at least a hundred of these?” Remus asked. Sirius nodded. “How are you planning to explode them all at the same time?”

“That’s why you two are here. You’re good with this kind of thing.”

You scoffed with a smile, “You left us the hardest part!”

“Try finding spawning beds and catching them in spheres, Vix,” Prongs retorted with a daring kind of face and stuck out your tongue to him. He gasped as he pulled back and played offended.

“We could time-set them?” Remus offered.

“Yeah, but what kind of charm would do that?” You asked. “A freezing charm, hiding them in the corner of classrooms and having them fall during first period?”

“Told you they would figure it out,” Sirius said as he looked at the two of you with a proud smile and side eyes James who had a small frown and pursed lips.

“Oh, that could actually work, but we’d have to perfect the charm so they all fall at the same time, if not they could figure it out and stop them from exploding,” Remus responded to you.

“Does that mean one person would have to charm all of them? There’s no way in hell we’d have enough time.”

“Not if we make the spell and teach the others how to do it,” he retorted. “Maybe we can run some tests… with toadless swamp bombs.”

“Got some of those?” you asked James.

“We can make them,” he responded with a shrug.

And that’s how you set yourself up for the task, while Remus and you figured out how to deal with the spell, James and Sirius went out to make some toadless swamp bombs for you to test them. You didn’t see the Potters until it was dinner time.

Effie was more than thrilled over the fact that you were staying at her house and she asked Mellie and Picksie to prepare some treats for you and Remus while Monty cooked dinner. “Boys, we’re talking girls stuff,” she announced after setting the table and pulled you to the side. You looked at them with a worried expression and Sirius shrugged, while James gave you a teasing thumbs up.

Effie took you to a room filled with books and looked at you with a small frown. “You’ve already talked to Dumbledore?”

It might have been toned like a question, but it sounded a lot more like a statement. “Yes.”

She nodded and placed her hand on your shoulder, she had a sad sort of look on her face that made you feel like you were being pitied, which had you shift uncomfortably. It was completely different to the way she had looked at you back at the train station when you first met her, and you felt like the memories were flooding back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked simply. “Have you talked about it to someone?”

You hesitated to answer. “I don’t,” you said honestly. “I’d rather not think about it altogether.”

She sighed and then nodded, as if she both knew it was a bad idea to suck it all up, and understood exactly where you were coming from. “You should process it, not now–” she added when she saw the deepening of your frown. “But you should eventually talk about it, even if it’s just to yourself.”

You nodded to her words, “Now… since you’ll be staying with the boys and I know you’re dating Sirius, I’ve brought you this,” she said, handing you a crystal bottle with greenish liquid inside.

You knew well what it was since McGonagall had shown you an identical potion back in her special class.

“Monty has already talked to the boys, but I wanted to make sure you were also taking care of yourself. Especially now that–” She didn’t finish, but you knew exactly what she meant.

Especially now that you don’t have a mum.

“Thank you, Effie,” you said honestly, and she instantly pulled you into a hug.

“I’m really sorry for everything you’ve gone through. I’ll work even harder so these kinds of things don’t happen again.” You didn’t say anything, and she continued. “You were incredibly brave,” she added, “defending a friend against them, it must have been a tough call to make.”

That had been the easiest part. You had never hesitated on whether to try to save Nina and your mother. The hard part was failing and having to live with it.

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for showing them that we aren’t all on their side and that we won’t stand down to their bigotry.”

You didn’t speak much, but Effie continued to give you praises for a couple of minutes, and then she told you a bit about the order and gave you a small keychain with a protean charm that would allow you to call her in case you ever needed her help. After that, she gave you a small pat on the back and told you dinner was ready.

You were still a little shaken by the time you stepped out of the room and Remus was struggling not to wrap you in his arms and pull you into a tight hug. But it was Sirius the one who did it, he pressed a bunch of kisses to your face and then one on your lips. It was quick, and it had been a second, but it was enough to have James grumble something about being forgotten because you were around, and complaining to Moony when Sirius had you sit next to him, on his usual spot.

Even though the talk with Effie had shaken you again, you were quick to let yourself be drowned by the merry atmosphere, James and Sirius complaining and somehow managed to flip the switch, leaving the problems at the back of your mind and actually enjoying the dinner and conversation even if the words wouldn’t quite reach your mind.

Anything to avoid, anything to forget, even if only for a minute.

Remus had been looking at you attentively throughout the dinner, the way Sirius was being extra touchy with you, he had probably noticed how upset you were too. Sirius wasn’t stupid. But he was waiting for the right time to talk to you. He was giving you space, but holding you close while at it. It was sweet, the two of you were a really sweet match, one made in heaven. And he was nothing more than a serpent, a tempting –or perhaps tempted– serpent that had fallen in love.

He would have to put up some space, he would have to step away, because if any of you had a taste of his apple then that beautiful relationship, that made him feel so many things at once, would crumble, and he would be to blame.

But how could he step away? You had been through hell and back and you needed your friends, even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself, you needed them. And he was your best friend, for fucks sake. How could he prioritise his feelings over yours? Remus started to feel like a monster again, and it was not because he was a werewolf. But rather because he had allowed himself to bask on the idea of being with you and seeing you with Sirius, how close you were to each other, it just reminded him that it wasn’t possible. It wasn’t possible to have either of you.

You might have allowed the conversation to swallow you, but you weren’t blind, you could tell there was something going on with Rem, he was different, he had been different the instant you appeared in Potter’s manor. And while at first, you thought it might have been because he was in a different house, it was like you could almost see the inner conflict inside his eyes. It was something similar to what you saw when you looked in the mirror, but at the same time, it was vastly different.

Whatever it was that was troubling Remus, wasn’t related to what had happened that night, even if he had cried for Nina when you told him the story, even if he had been sad about your mother and had hugged you until you stopped crying, Remus’ mind was plagued with a different feeling, you weren’t sure why, but you knew.

“That was delicious,” you said with a polite smile. “Thank you, Monty.”

Monty beamed at your praise and sent you a very James Potter-like wink, “You’re welcome darling, you may dine here whenever you want. And I mean it, I don’t care if James and Sirius are busy, you’re family now.”

It had been a short, almost throw-away comment, but you felt your heart swell with warmth when he said it. You had lost your parents, but you had gained Hope and you had gained Effie and Monty. You might have felt lonely, but you wouldn’t be alone.

“That’s right,” James said as he placed his hands around your shoulder. “She’s like the sister I never got, isn’t she boys?”

“Well she’s not like a sister to me,” Sirius said and sent you a wink that pulled a small chuckle from you.

Remus didn’t respond.

And again, you noticed. It was like you were noticing many things and a lot of them had to do with Remus. Like that one thing that you had seen hints of in the past was finally revealing itself and you weren’t sure exactly what it was, but you had the feeling that you’d be able to tell soon enough.

“Gross,” James said and pulled you closer to him.

“You’ll take her to her room?” Effie asked.

“Indeed,” he responded as he dragged you up their stairwell, “I’ll even give her a short tour.”

“Aha?” you asked.

He nodded in return and stepped right in front of you when you reached the end of the stairwell. “So, that way we have the office, the library and my parent’s room,” he said and moved to the other side of the hallway and pointed at a door. “This is mine and Sirius’ room, Mum and Dad used an extending charm to make you a room and Rem will stay with us.”

“You shouldn’t have gone through the trouble…”

“Because you always end up sleeping all together?” James teased. “Mum is open-minded but not that open-minded.”

You gasped and punched James on the shoulder, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He replied. “I believe Mellie and Picksie have already taken your stuff there, so you should be set to sleep if that’s what you want. You have your own bathroom, although there is also one at the end of the hall, you already know the one that’s downstairs, yeah?”

You nodded in response.

“Good, any questions?”

“Nope.”

“Excellent. Now, it’s not that late, and we’re planning to play a muggle board game Sirius got sent by Andromeda. It’s called Monopoly.”

“Oh, I know how to play,” Remus said casually.

“Meet you in our room?” James asked.

“Yeah,” you said with a nod and walked inside yours.

You took a quick shower and changed into a pair of comfortable pyjamas. With a towel still around your shoulders to catch the wetness of your hair, you knocked on their door. James was setting up the game and Sirius looked confused as Remus tried to explain the instructions to him, the three were sitting on the floor. You approached them and after sitting down, you carefully took the instructions from Remus’ hand. Again, he was quick to pull away from you and you tried to ignore the feeling as you sank into your seat and started to read through them. You were also slightly confused. The whole “put houses and hotels” was a concept you weren’t really familiar with, it was nothing like Wizard’s Chess!

“So, you got it?” Remus asked.

“I have to pay if I fall on your property? But why? You would never charge me, we’re friends,” Sirius said.

“Yes, but it’s the game’s rule. If he doesn’t charge you because you’re friends then he wouldn’t charge any of us and he would lose the game,” you explained.

“And what’s with this money?” he added as he took one of the bills from the game. “It looks so weird. But muggles also use paper, I remember that. How do they protect against falsification, like gemino and muggle forgers?”

“Sirius! You’re not thinking of using magic while playing, are you?” You said as you threw him a look.

“Is it against the rules? It’s not in here,” he added as he took the paper from your hands and showed it.

“Of course, it isn’t,” you said as you took it from his hands. “It’s a muggle game Sirius, they don’t add ‘Spells are forbidden’ in the rules like we do.”

“So that means no magic?” he asked.

“No,” Remus and you said at the same time.

“And no duplicating the money if you ran out either,” James warned.

“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t be against the rules.”

You gave Sirius a stern look and turned to Remus, it was as if he instantly knew what you wanted since he handed over his wand. “Accio pencil.”

A pencil flew from James’ desk and towards your hand. You caught it with ease and wrote down two new rules on the paper.

THE USE OF ANY KIND OF MAGIC IS FORBIDDEN

FORGING THE MONEY (BE IT BY MUGGLE MEANS OR WIZARDING ONES) IS ALSO FORBIDDEN.

“Now it’s against the rules.”

“I’ve always found it fascinating how Moony’s wand just works when you use it,” James said as he looked at the item in question in disbelief.

“You’re just jealous you can’t use it,” Sirius said as he took Remus’ wand and effortlessly levitated the pencil back to the desk.

“I’m sure I can if I try hard enough,” James said, taking the wand in his hands and flicking it about. Nothing happened. He flicked it again and still nothing. He did again, with more force, and the pencil flicked from the spot and launched towards him. You were quick enough to move the game board over his face and the pencil’s tip crashed against it.

“Shit, it made a dent,” you said as you pulled the board down and looked at the place that the pencil had, pretty much stabbed into. Right above the Angel of Islington, there was a dent in the shape of the pencil, the graphite tip had broken and was now stuck in the cardboard.

“That would have been your face, mate,” Sirius said while James took Moony’s wand between his thumb and index fingers –as if it had been a bomb– and placed it in front of Remus’ crossed feet.

Remus rolled his eyes and took his wand, he flicked in the air and both the chipped pencil and the gameboard were repaired, he didn’t even have to say a word.

“Yeah, thanks Vix,” He said as he turned to you. You just shrugged in response. It had been almost instinctive, you didn’t even think before acting, you saw the pencil shake and you knew something bad might have happened. “Be my team.”

“There are no teams in Monopoly,” Remus said with a sigh.

“Well we could change that,” James said with a shrug.

“If they didn’t change the rules for me to forge money, then they’re not gonna change them for you to steal my girlfriend.”

“How about we just start playing instead?” you offered, and in between you and Remus started distributing the money and placing things on the board.

“I’ll be the dog,” Sirius said, instantly taking the small metal dog from Remus’ hands.

“I’ll take the car,” James said.

“And you, Little Witch?”

“You pick first,” you said simply, and Remus stared at the pieces left in his hand like he wasn’t sure which one to take, and eventually he took the thimble. Pushing the rest of the pieces your way.

You took the small battleship and placed it on “Go”. The rest of the boys did the same.

“Hey Moons, can I have my £200?” James said.

“It’s only after the first round,” he explained.

“It’s on the rules Prongs, didn’t you read them?” Sirius added as he handed him the paper and James scoffed at his hypocrisy.

You laughed at their interaction and took the dice in your hands before shaking them and throwing them on the board, “Seven? Alright you go,” you said as you handed them to Remus who got a 10. James got an eight and Sirius got a 3.

“Good, so I start,” Remus said and threw the dice again, moving towards the spot marked on the board.

The first couple of rounds were uneventful. You were all just playing around, and it wasn’t until at least 40 minutes later that things started to get a little more complicated.

James had gotten possession of all the orange properties after making a deal with Sirius to exchange an orange for the last railroad that he needed to complete the set. Remus had somehow managed to get the entirety of the 3rd line and while you had 3 houses on Park Lane, no one had fallen even close to either of them in the last two rounds.

“Remus please,” Sirius pleaded. “Please, please, let me go, just this once, I’ll pay you as soon as someone falls on Kings Cross. James is super close, look.”

Remus shook his head. “I’m sorry Pads, rules are rules.”

“But you let Vix go a couple of rounds ago.”

“She gave me her get-out-of-jail card in exchange, and I’ve fallen there twice already. What would you give me in exchange?”

“Moony!” Sirius whined. James had already taken his pink cards a round earlier when he fell and also had no money to pay for it. He would have to mortgage his properties to pay off, and James had already done it once and he had been terribly upset over just getting half of the money he paid for it.

You sighed, you didn’t want Sirius to lose, but you didn’t want him to be kicked out of the game so suddenly either. “How much do you have?”

“£100.”

You nodded and checked your money. You weren’t much better either but you had a bit of a cushion so you pulled the £150 he needed from your bill stack and handed it over.

James gasped, “That’s so not fair! You made me mortgage White Chapel Rode to pay off my debt!”

“I want it back with a 20% over the total when you have capital. And I will not be charged if I fall on your properties until you’ve paid up the debt.”

“Never mind,” James said, swallowing his own words. “Not even because he’s your boyfriend. I mean he would have been better off getting a mortgage.”

“No,” Remus said, charging the money Sirius owed and placing it on his own stack of bills. He currently had the thickest stack and the most properties. Unless there was a massive turn of events, he would win, and you definitely did not need him keeping Sirius’ properties. “Sirius would have had to mortgage at least four properties to get enough money to pay, that would mean he’d have to sell one of his railroads and therefore he would have lost his set, decreasing the total amount of profit he’d get if one of us fell on it. He would have also had to sell the houses in Islington and sell one of his blue afterwards. And only for half the money he spent on them initially. Besides, even if she won’t get charged, we will, so he has a 2/3 chance of getting the money to pay her back. If any of us fall on Kings Cross –and we’re both close– he’ll have enough to pay Vix back and he wouldn’t have sold off any of his properties.

“But only to pay back, and then he’ll be broke again.”

“He’s close to ‘Go’, he’ll capitalise then, and he’ll manage to survive for at least a few more turns. She’s actually saving his ass.”

“That’s because she’s the best,” Sirius said and placed a kiss on your cheek before handing the dice to Remus and he threw them, falling on Park Lane and finally giving you enough money to continue with the next round without major issues.

Sirius and James survived for a couple more rounds, but eventually, they both went bankrupt, James couldn’t pay a debt to the bank and he had to give all his properties back, and since you and Remus had enough money, you had to fight it out to get them on an auction. Sirius lost to Remus later, but this time around he didn’t even ask for a waiver.

“Here, take it all Moony, I cannot fight against your economic skills,” he said dramatically and handed his leftover money and properties to Remus.

James had pulled a pillow from the bed and was soundly sleeping beside you and Sirius, who had pulled you onto his lap shortly after he lost the game and was paying close attention to everything you did within the game. Then you fell into the dеathtrap that Remus had designed on Fleet Street and Picadilly. Losing most of your money after two rolls of the dice. Luckily he fell on Mayfair and Parklane afterwards and you managed to get back most of what you’d lost.

A few more rounds went on and Sirius yawned. Pulling you closer to him. “Just give up, neither of you it’s going to win this one. Moony allowed you to pay half the debt last time you fell on Coventry and you let it slip when he fell on Kings Cross because he promised to do your Herbology homework. At this point, you owe more favours to each other than money.”

“But you can’t give up on this game.”

“Then be ruthless to each other and have one of the two go bankrupt.”

You pouted, and James mumbled something in his sleep, “Moony, no. Let me keep my deed card, please…” The three of you laughed and you leaned down to place a deed card on his hand. He was quick to grip it and smiled.

“How about a truce?” Sirius offered. “I really want to go to bed.”

“Well then go,” Remus said with a shrug.

“I meant all of us to go to bed,” he said nonchalantly. “We haven’t cuddled in a while.”

Remus swallowed, so much for space. “You mean– we’re still doing the cuddle thing?”

“Just in case,” you said, “Moony took Vixen in, but we don’t know if it was just a one-time thing or not.”

Remus knew. Moony had accepted Vixen already, he wasn’t gonna try and eat or chase her unless it was a game. He could just tell you and be done with it. No more Sirius on top of him in the mornings, no more you laying your head on his shoulder before you turned into Vixen. Just him and his own bed. The idea sounded like a nightmare.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, agreeing. “We shouldn’t let our guard down. Just in case.”

“So, shake hands, kiss kiss, and you both win,” Sirius said as he placed his hands on your shoulder and shook them a little.

You laughed and extended your hand for Remus to shake, “Truce?”

“Truce,” he replied with a nod.

“Let’s go then,” Sirius said as he patted your leg and pushed you to stand.

“I’ll go wash my teeth,” you said as you waved at the boys and exited their room.

“How is she?” Sirius asked the instant he was alone with Moony. Well, technically Prongs was there too but he slept like a log, so he might as well be in Narnia altogether.

“You’ve seen her.”

“Yeah, I can tell she’s shaken. Heck, I am shaken and I barely knew the girl. You knew Nina better, didn’t you?”

“Vixen said she was crushing on me after the first study club, remember?”

“That was Nina?” Sirius asked, shocked as he took a deep breath. “Anyway, how is she?”

“Quiet,” Remus admitted. “She prefers avoiding the subject entirely. She only told me what happened the day after it happened and then one time when I found her crying outside, she mentioned how she felt. I think it’s much better not to pressure her to talk about it.”

“I assumed as much,” Sirius said with a sigh. “But I’m worried, her smile it… it barely reaches her eyes now.”

Remus had noticed that too. The façade you had created was not enough to hide how you truly felt from either of the two, “I know.”

“How can we change that?”

“We can’t. We can only support her until she feels better.”

“It’s agonising,” Sirius breathed and hid his face in between his hands. And he hasn’t even seen her cry, Remus thought. “You know the way Nina diеd–” Sirius started and looked up, his eyes were glassy with tears. “Vix was trying so hard to defend her, so hard to escape and then she– it was a split second Moony, barely a minute, she was trying to repair the path to continue and they sent a course her way, Nina stepped in, she took the blow instead because she new Vix was already rather weak…. Nina saved her.”

“I know,” Remus said.

“You know what’s the last thing Nina told her?” Remus shook his head. “That she was pleased Vix was the last thing she got to see. She thanked her for saving her, even if she didn’t…” Sirius stopped and wiped his eyes. Witnessing the entire thing in first person had taken a toll on him too, Remus could tell. Sirius wasn’t only suffering for you, but with you as well. He felt tempted to bring Sirius into a hug, even more when he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

Sirius didn’t feel worthy of crying, albeit he had done it more than once when he was alone, he thought that he didn’t have the right. It had been your mother and your close friend, he had been merely a spectator. What Sirius didn’t understand was that pain wasn’t something to be measured and weighed, it was not something to compare and pin against each other, you can’t say “I don’t deserve to cry” just because someone else has it a lot worse. Your feelings, no matter where they stem from, are valid since they are true for you.

“She stayed there, she was crying on top of Nina, that was the last thing I saw. I– I didn’t think she would move.”

“She wasn’t going to,” Remus said. You had never said that explicitly, but it had been obvious from the way things happened. “She would have kept trying if it hadn’t been for Barty.”

“Barty, of all people,” Sirius said in disbelief. There was a second of quiet and then Sirius turned to look at Remus. He was as beautiful as he remembered, he hadn’t quite realised how much closer he’d veered to him while they talked but they were now much closer, his knees brushing against each other and he was close enough to get a whiff off Remus’ chocolaty scent, he smelled of you too.

Then the knob twisted and the door opened, Remus pulled back hastily and Sirius turned into Padfoot before you noticed he’d been crying. “Everything all right?” you asked with a frown when you felt the tense atmosphere.

You looked at Remus but Padfoot was quicker and ran your way, jumping and placing his paws on your shoulders, his size made you stagger back a little and you laughed when he started to lick your face. Remus stared for a second and then flicked his wand so the game would go back to the box and then took it in his hand to place it on the table, avoiding the sight of the two of you almost entirely.

“I missed you too, big boy,” you said as you brushed your hand over the back of Padfoot’s head, he barked softly in return and then dug his snout into your neck in the same way he did to Remus when you cuddled. You were petting him as Remus finished setting the bed.

The second Remus sat on the bed, Padfoot barked again, softer than he had earlier.

“Go ahead,” you said. “He’s better at petting you than I am anyway.”

Padfoot gave you another short lick and jumped from you and towards Remus, throwing himself over in the same way he had with you, although Remus hadn’t even staggered. You smiled when you saw them.

Sirius was just happy he could hug Rem more now that he was Padfoot and was bossing him around so he would lay on the bed properly by biting his shirt and trying to pull him back. “Oi, Pads, I’m coming,” he said as he carefully unclasped his watch to set it on the night table. Padfoot barked again to hurry him.

“You know Rem,” you said with a sneaky little smile. He hummed in return. “I think Sirius missed us more.” Padfoot’s face changed and he turned to you instantly, barking in retort. “I mean he was calling us often, he had me on his lap whenever he could, and I’m sure he would have asked me to play with his hair if it hadn’t been that we were so busy with the prank.”

Remus smirked. “Oh, he definitely missed you more.” Padfoot now turned his head to him and barked.

“I suppose I win the bet then,” you said with a smile and Padfoot barked one more time before running your way, but you were quicker and turned into Vixen before he placed his paws on your shoulders, sneaking in between his legs as he fell again, slightly startled.

You ran under the bed and crossed the entire thing before jumping over and climbing onto Remus’ lap who was still sitting. He laughed as you brushed your head to his stomach and Padfoot barked at you for being so sneaky. You must have been saying something to each other –since you kept barking– but Remus was clueless as to what that might have been, so he just carefully raised you up and accommodated, allowing enough space for Padfoot to climb into and get comfortable himself.

“Didn’t you say you were tired?” he said with eyebrows raised at Padfoot who had now rested his snout on Remus’ shoulder. “Stop arguing with Vixen and sleep then.” Padfoot lifted his head and barked in return. “If not, we might as well finish the game.”

The dog whined and sank back into Remus’ shoulder. After that, it didn’t take much for Remus soft and purposeful petting, for both you and Pads to fall asleep. Sirius now much calmer, he had both you and Remus around.

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blushweddinggowns · 1 day

Text

Eddie sighed as Steve fastened the vest around him, still annoyed that he had lost this particular battle. He hadn’t spent a hundred and fifty dollars on the damn thing to go on him.

“You got it for me against the bats, but now it’s you against the bats. It makes sense.” Steve said for the millionth time, taking Eddie’s sigh as the quiet complaint it was, “Don’t argue with me on this. Again. Does it fit okay? Tell me if it feels like it’s going to slip."

“It’s fine,” Eddie mumbled, the irritation he’d been holding back bleeding through, “It’s completely fine despite the fact I don’t fucking need-”

“Eddie,” Steve interrupted, “Stop. You’re doing the more dangerous thing-”

“Angel, don’t lie to me,” Eddie warned, his eye twitching at the very implication “You wouldn’t be letting Dustin do this shit if that was the case. We don't even know what you're up against.”

“I’m only ‘letting’ him because you’ll be there to keep him safe,” Steve sighed as he stepped back, admiring his own handiwork, “I trust you more than anyone to make sure he’s okay.”

“And who’s going to make sure you are?” Eddie asked.

Steve smiled at him. It was small, frail even. So far below the kind of joyous grins Eddie was used to. But it was real, hopeful. Steve pulled him into a hug, holding him close as he mumbled in his ear, “You will. When all of this is over, I know you’ll make sure I’m okay. Won’t you?”

Eddie couldn’t help but smile a little as he hugged him back, “You know I will. But I still fucking hate this. I don’t like splitting up. ”

“I don’t either,” Steve said softly, “But it won’t be for long, right?”

“Anytime is too long.”

“Sap.”

They were still clinging to each other, despite the fact that they were out of time.

Everything was set. The set up on the roof, the bikes on each floor, their escape route secured. Even the journalism room was fortified, with one of the two doors blocked. The other, in prime position to be blocked just as easily, assuming that Eddie and Dustin made it back in one piece. The other three were already at the Creel house, waiting for their signal. There was nothing else to wait for. They couldn’t wait. Not when Chrissy was about to risk her fucking life.

But Eddie still didn’t want to let him go. He never wanted to let him go.

“It’s going to be fine,” Steve mumbled in his ear, “Just… promise me you’ll run if they start to overwhelm you, okay? Even if we aren’t back yet.”

Eddie nodded, even though it was a damn lie. He would just have to hope everything finished before he got to that point.

“I love you,” Steve murmured, letting his head slump down onto Eddie's shoulder, “So much.”

“I love you more,” Eddie mumbled back, “More than you can ever know.”

Steve nodded against him, fully aware that time was up. Nancy was already calling for him, but if anything the sound made him cling to Eddie harder. He gave him one last long squeeze before pulling back, kissing him quickly as he stepped away.

Eddie watched him and the others go, the anxiety about the whole fucked up situtation coming back in full force, strong enough to nearly strangle him in it’s intensity. But he didn’t have time to dwell on it.

Everything after that happened so fast, too fast. Their distraction worked perfectly, every single demon with ears was on their way towards them by the time Eddie had finished playing. They ran straight away, down the steps, down the hallways, with time to spare to block off the other exit in the journalism room. Everything was working.

The bats themselves were struggling against their makeshift barricades, but there were too many of them to hold them back for long. They would have to leave. And leave soon, if they didn’t want to be completely overwhelmed.

“You go first,” Eddie panted as he shoved Dustin towards their makeshift rope, his ears picking up on every sound the creaking wood of the old doors made, “Hurry!”

Dustin listened, climbing up and out of this fucked up world while Eddie lingered behind.

Something was wrong. He knew something was wrong. If Steve and the others had won, then the bats would have already been dead, wouldn’t they? That’s what happened before with the dogs, years ago. They all went down at the same time they finished off the last big bad.

So if Steve was okay, if they had all made it out, if they had won then they should have all gone down. But they hadn’t. They were alive and well, chomping at the bit to get at them. Which meant… that if he left, if he lost the interest of those same vile creatures, they could easily swarm right back to the house.

Right back to Steve. Steve who was almost certainly fighting for his own life against God knew what. And that was assuming he was still alive. But… no.

Eddie couldn’t let himself think of the possibility. Steve had to be alive, and if he was alive then Eddie couldn’t risk running away. Not if it meant risking Steve’s life more than he already had.

And if he wasn’t… then what did Eddie have to lose?

He could hear Dustin yelling at him to follow, the figure of him distorted through the portal. But he didn’t. Instead, Eddie cut the rope clean off, cutting off any way for Dustin to follow him on his impromptu suicidal plan.

He could hear Dustin screaming at him, asking what the fuck he was doing. He didn’t have time to answer, not when the wood was straining underneath the weight of hundreds of monsters. Instead, he skidded towards the other door, pushing away the original furniture they had used to block it. The vast majority of the bats were concentrated towards where they saw them enter the room, their animalistic nature giving Eddie the slight advantage he needed.

He didn’t look back when he bursted out of the room, he couldn’t bear to see the look on Dustin’s face. Instead, he sped down the hallway, listening to the trashing of wings hitting each other, all of them so desperate to get at him that they kept knocking each other to the ground.

But they were following, all of them by the sounds of it. He didn’t look back, instead he kept peddling, praying to any god out there that they would just fucking die already.

But they didn’t. No, they were alive and well as they pursued him. He made it to the gym before the first one caught up, biting down hard into his calf. Hard enough for him to finally crash off the bike and topple to the floor.

Everything was a blur after that, a pain filled blurr of screaming.

It took a minute before they started tearing through the kevlar of the vest. If anything, most of them were focusing on it instead of the open parts of his body, almost like they were desperate to get to the shit inside of him that made him tick.

Eddie couldn’t help but deliriously think that it was a fucked up instinct. The little assholes. But they had won, he felt it as they started to eat into him, no doubt sending his body into shock.

Until it stopped. Suddenly, they were all going limp around him, the rows of teeth in his side staying embedded, but unmoving. He could barely feel the pain anymore by the time it happened.

Eddie laid there, breathing hard as he felt himself bleed out. He tried to move, tried to stand, but his body wouldn’t let him. Instead he was frozen, laying on the ground as he waited for an end he never wanted.

He didn’t know if he did the right thing. Chances were, he’d never know. Everything was fading fast, too fast. Fast enough for Eddie to not even realize Dustin was in the room with him, not until he was lifting his head into his lap, his panicked voice cutting through the fog in his own head.

“E-Eddie?! Eddie, can you hear me?!”

Eddie nodded, his eyes feeling heavier by the moment. But he could see Dustin, Dustin who was already crying above him.

Eddie tried to smile at him, “Hey, Bud.”

“Don’t fucking bid me!” Dustin screeched, panicked hands working to try and stop the bleeding, “Why the fuck did you do that!?”

Eddie knew exactly why he did it. Eddie did it because he was a piece of shit, all the way to the end.

Because he didn’t die to save Steve. He knew that. It wasn’t just to be his savior. Eddie was selfish when it came to Steve, worse than he could ever imagine. That prick of uncertainty, the vagueness of not knowing whether he was alive or dead, was all Eddie had needed.

He was never going to risk a world without Steve in it. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Not if ever given the choice.

So he made his choice. He just didn’t have the chance to explain it all. Not now. He had more important things to say anyway,

Eddie swallowed, his voice coming out weak, but there, “Tell Steve, I love him.”

Dustin shook his head, hard and fast, “Don’t fucking do this to us! You can’t do this!”

“Tell him he was everything to me,” Eddie went on, “T-Tell him that he deserves a good life. Make him promise to live it.”

“Tell him yourself!”

“Tell him I’m sorry,” Eddie finished quietly, the words barely escaping his mouth, “I’m so sorry.”

It was… horrifyingly insufficient. No words would make this better. Nothing that could be said would make any of this hurt less. It was so fucking awful. Part of Eddie couldn't believe he was doing this to Steve, leaving him all alone. Every promise he’d ever made to him, broken in an instant.

It was too heavy, too horrible. Nearly enough for him to wish that he would die faster, just to get away from it. And it seemed his wish was being granted.

He felt cold, too cold. It wasn’t the pain. He could barely feel it anymore, his body surely going into shock.

This was really it.

He was going to die here.

from the newest chapter of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #stranger things #the universe trapped in your skin #fic update #does this count as spoilers?#maybe?

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brighttears · 1 day

Text

The Mirror

Joel Miller x f!reader, Found Family Joel x Ellie

Summary: In Jackson, Joel and Ellie have settled down, and you’ve joined their little family. You and Ellie have bonded over poking fun at him, having no idea how much you’re really hurting his already wounded self esteem. Tommy and Maria step in, and eventually, he finds the courage to speak up for himself.

Word count: 10k

Warnings: implied age gap, angst, mentions of Sarah, very sad Joel hates himself, is made fun of for his age and briefly weight, Ellie and you are pretty mean, brief pissed off Joel, Joel cries. Happy ending!!!

A/n: hello from my official first story back, finally finishes this request i started before i dipped out for a bit. Worked very closely with them, @anotherpedrolover to get it just right :3 This is less of an x reader and more of just playing around with Joel and his relationships, which has been super fun. Hope you guys like ~8k words of our favorite poor little meow meow suffering teehee

—

It’s become a ritual for the three of you to sit in the living room many evenings, starting with you and Joel encouraging Ellie to read more, followed by a speech by her on hypocrisy and fairness, whereafter the two of you gave in just to calm her down. It’s quite nice, though, sitting around and reading silently.

You were the one to suggest it, once you felt like you did have room to suggest things, a few months into moving in with the two, having met them nearly a year beforehand here in Jackson. Ellie met you first, then almost literally pulled him to meet you.

Neither he or Ellie had been that social, keeping mostly to themselves, Tommy and Maria being the only exceptions. You were different, though, that’s what Ellie said, and that’s what Joel came to see, too. He’s not exactly sure what to call that thing, the thing at your core that pulled him in. But it doesn’t matter much, because now you’re here, and he’s never loved a woman as much as he loves you.

As he glances up at you, leg hanging over the side of your chair opposite him, face focused on your book, he can’t help but smile at the spark of warmth he gets at the sight.

Naturally, Ellie has her legs stretched out over Joel’s lap, him resting his book over them as he sits on the couch.

She didn’t start being this affectionate until a few months into Jackson. Not all that gradually either, the first few bear hugs genuinely shocking him, but he couldn’t be more pleased with the development. He’s had to get used to affection again himself, coming both from Ellie and you. Now that you live together, he finds himself entwined with you, in one way or another, every single night, and he has found himself indulging more than he has in anything in ages. Nowadays, he eats every touch up like a stray dog. Things like this, Ellie’s lazy legs over his, makes him feel like a father again. Things like twin idling hands over every part of each other you can reach makes him feel like a husband. Nights like these, all gathered in the living room, makes it feel like you’re a family.

However, his bladder refuses to let him soak up the moment anymore, so he breaks the peaceful silence, sliding Ellie’s legs off of his lap, “Alright, kiddo, I gotta interrupt ya for a minute.” As he gets to his feet, Joel groans automatically, nearly limping on a stiff knee for a moment as he turns around the couch and towards the hallway.

Watching him walk away, Ellie pouts, before a mischievous grin spreads across her face. “Look, look, I’m Joel.” Once she sees him looking at her, she groans, dramatically loud, pushing herself out of her seat slowly, then proceeding to walk even slower, one heavy foot at a time with her back curved and an imaginary cane in her hand. “Aauuh, my back, my knees, aaaugh,” she says with a gravelly voice, face twisted down. Immediately, you’re guffawing. Joel shakes his head as he watches, then looks down to pinch the bridge of his nose with a hint of a smile on his face. Though the impression is pretty funny, he doesn’t love the fact that it’s supposed to be of him.

“I’m 58, not 80, asswipe.”

“Come oooon,” she laughs, “that was spot on.”

“You do groan like you just got punched in the gut every time you get up.” You chuckle.

Despite how much he loves the sight, looking at the way you and Ellie grin and laugh with each other suddenly hits a chord in Joel. You’re laughing with each other, at him. It feels like neither of you give a damn about him in this situation at all. He’s just something to make fun. And, is that really how you see him? Senile?

Joel shakes it off, making himself chuckle, not wanting to ruin the fun, labeling himself as overly sensitive. “Can’t even take a piss in peace.” He mumbles as he turns and walks away, leaving you and Ellie in giggles behind him.

In the bathroom, he stares at his reflection. Gray, wrinkled, dark circles under his eyes, littered in scars. He guesses it really is the best thing, for you all to be in Jackson, because he doesn't have many more years left out there on the road. He’s lucky he hasn’t gotten himself or Ellie killed, god knows there were more than a few close calls, like when she had to shoot that kid, or had to nurse him back to health when he didn’t see that last guy coming at the university and got himself impaled. He’s too old for that. He’s too old.

You’re much younger. It confuses him often, why’d you want to be with an old man like him, but he has decided to take what he can get at this point. You haven’t left yet, so he’ll enjoy it while he can. But how many years does he have left of that, if you do stay? With you and Ellie?

He can barely recognize himself. When did he get this old? His joints ache in changing weather. He has to put significantly more effort into getting up, and yeah, he does groan like he just got punched whenever he does. One day, if he even gets that far, he will need a cane. He won’t even be able to go on patrols. In just a few years, he’ll be useless. He won’t be able to keep anyone safe at all. Hell, he’s probably at this point now. Slow and deaf and weak.

At least Ellie will have you. But… eventually, you’ll have to take care of him, too.

It all becomes too much. He looks down, and turns the light off.

—

Tonight is game night at Tommy and Maria’s, the game of choice being Monopoly, both Ellie’s favorite and least favorite, depending on whether or not she wins, though you’re all pretty competitive. She’s in the lead tonight, standing over the table to aggressively shake the dice, then, when they land in her favor, pretty much ending the game, throwing her hands up in victory with a very loud succession of yes’s. Joel, who had been right on her tail, throws his hands up with a dramatic “Aaawww,” a smile under his mock disappointment.

“Another loss for Joel,” Ellie tells him, smiling, then bows, “thanks to yours truly.”

“That was the luck of the dice, Ellie.” Joel points out, leaning back in his chair.

“No, that was me beating your ass. You can’t keep up with me, old man.” She smiles, throwing up more air punches. Everyone’s laughing, and Joel tries his best to, but there’s that line he hates. Tommy, however, can't miss the look under his brother's half hearted chuckle.

“Hey, Joel, help me get some wood for the fire.” Tommy cocks his head to the back door, and the two leave you, Maria, and Ellie inside to chat and put the game back away.

They start at the woodpile, taking a few logs to the back porch, but at the door, Tommy pauses, setting his small stack down. “Hey, Joel.” Joel places his logs down, then straightens to look at him. Tommy purses his lips, pausing. “Looks like they’re gettin’ along pretty well.”

“Yeah,” Joel looks down with a light smile. “Sure are.”

“They sure do like to take the mick out on ya.” Joel tries to hide behind a chuckle, but Tommy sees through him like a pane of glass. “Doesn’t seem like you’re havin’ as much fun with it as they are, though.”

“Ah,” Joel waves his hand dismissively, still trying to smile, “it’s all in good fun. I don’t mind.”

Tommy sighs, stepping forward to put his hand on his brother’s shoulder, making him look at him. He draws his brows together, keeping his voice quiet, “You can be honest with me, Joel. I know it’s botherin’ you.”

Joel looks down at his feet. “You’re right I mean, I don’t love their fun bein’ at my expense, but… if they’re havin’ fun and gettin’ along, who am I to stop them?”

“Nah, Joel. It shouldn't be like that. You gotta set up some boundaries or somethin’.”

Joel shakes his head. “It’s no big deal. As long as they’re happy, I don’t care.”

Tommy sighs. “Yeah, well, I care, and I know they do, too. I know it’s hurtin’ you, and I know they would stop doin’ it they knew.”

Joel raises his gaze to look at his brother with genuine eyes. “If they’re happy, I’m happy.”

Pursing his lips, Tommy shakes his head. “You don’t look very happy.”

Brushing it off, Joel chuckles, looking down at his feet again. “Well, I’ll work on that, then.”

Tommy's expression remains the same, almost pleading. Quietly, he urges, “You should tell them, Joel.”

After a moment, Joel replies quietly, “Yeah, yeah.”

Knowing full well that he won’t, Tommy sighs. After a pause, he sighs again, then picks the logs back up and goes back into the house.

Joel keeps his gaze on the ground, considering his brother’s words. He imagines the conversation, the hurt and disappointment on the face of two of his favorite people, the shame he’d feel, and the resulting quiet in the house.

Tommy has talked to him about his bad habit of putting himself last, but he has yet to understand why that’s a problem, why he would deserve it being any other way.

Though he tries to keep it out of his mind, he thinks about it every day, how he lied to Ellie after Salt Lake City. Sometimes, when he looks at her, that’s all he sees, and he sees the same thing in the mirror. He betrayed her. And he can’t find a way to tell her. So, doesn’t he owe her his own suffering? He can repent without telling her by letting her be as mean as she wants, even though he knows she doesn’t mean to be. It's better than how she would treat him if she knew what he did.

He feels so disconnected from her already, but he can’t stand to lose her. That’s why he did what he did in the first place, both the killing and the lying. He just can’t.

He deserves this. He’s a liar, he's weak, he's old, he’s not fun like he used to be. He can’t keep up. So, why should he say anything? What makes him deserve to stand up for himself? Why would he deserve any respect at all?

He just can’t lose her. Or you. Even if this is how it is from now on, being made fun of, it’s better than nothing.

Joel takes a deep breath, picks up the thick, heavy logs, and walks back through the door, wiping the sour look on his face as he enters back into the sound of banter and laughter.

He does pretty well, his training of keeping himself hidden away with a composed mask paying off. Still, it’s on his mind.

It’s impulsive, really, when he poses the question casually to Ellie, “You really think I can’t keep up with you? Gettin’ too old?”

“Pff,” Ellie chuckles, elbowing him. “Don’t get me wrong, you can hold your own, but look at those gray hairs. You could be my grandpa.” To Ellie, it’s funny, but Joel’s guts twist. He laughs it off.

He slinks to your side then, sliding his arm around your waist. You offer a sweet smile and a kiss to his cheek. He leans into it, but swallows hard.

“Hey uh,” he tries with you, “Little Ellie said she thinks I could be her grandpa. Makin’ be feel like a manther.”

“Manther?” You crinkle your brow, a hint of a laugh on your lips.

“Yeah, you know,” he cocks his head, self conscious. “Like I’m uh, too old for you.”

You chuckle, pressing another kiss to his cheeks. “I like the gray.” That’s all you say before turning back to the conversation. Though you lean into his side, it doesn’t make Joel feel any closer to you.

He is an old man. And that’s about it.

He doesn’t deserve either of you. He’s not enough.

He has no idea what he’s doing here.

—

It’s a slow, quiet morning in Jackson, Joel still sleepy as he sips his coffee, sitting at the breakfast bar as you pour a cup of your own across from him in the kitchen. Despite the seeming dullness of them, mornings like these are one of Joel’s favorite things. Simply peaceful, no dreading the day, he’s allowed to be only half awake. With the love of his life to share it with, and Ellie to come join you whenever she decides to pull herself out of bed—because she’s allowed to take her time, now, too. Joel looks at you, standing with your back against the counter with a mug in your hand. There’s a light smile on your face, but you’re looking at the floor, which is curious, and then you wink, but he barely has time to register it before Ellie comes jumping up from the other side of the counter, yelling “BOO!” right in his face.

“Jesus fuck—” he yells on impulse, almost flinging coffee on himself as he lurches back in his seat, eyes wide, instantly completely awake. You and Ellie immediately erupt in laughter, Ellie leaning over the counter at him with a wide grin. “Jesus, Ellie.” He sighs deeply, closing his eyes and taking a breath as he leans back in his chair.

“Gotta keep you on your toes, old man.” Ellie giggles while you continue in your fit of laughter.

“Yeah, yeah.” Joel rolls his eyes, sighing again as he leans wearily over the counter, trying to catch his bearings and calm his pulse.

Still laughing, you and Ellie high five. “That was good,” you giggle at her, then look at him as he rubs his eyes, a faint smile still on his lips. It’s hard to be in a bad mood when the two of you are laughing like this. “You’re too easy, Joel.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.” He chuckles lightly, “So much for a peaceful morning. Christ, one of these days you’re gonna give me a heart attack, Ellie.”

“Aw, you can handle it.” She replies, going around the bar to slap his shoulder, still grinning. “Besides, I know CPR.”

Joel looks at her, attitude in his voice when he asks, “Do you?” Because he knows full well that she does not know CPR.

“Yeah. It’s like that song, you know, the one that goes, being alive, being alive,”

“You mean stayin’ alive?”

“Yeah, whatever, that.”

“That’s a song, Ellie, not CPR. And you don’t even know the damn song.”

“Well… she knows CPR.” She points at you, “Right?”

You nod, an amused smile on your face, “Yes, I do.”

“Then you’ll be fiiiine.” Ellie slaps Joel’s shoulder again, and he gives her a look, brows raised.

“Well, I would prefer not to have to get CPR at all.”

“Well, I’m surprised you haven’t gotten used to being boo’d by me by now.”

“Boo’d?” Joel scrunches his raised brows.

“Yeah, you know, BOO.”

Joel looks at her, hiding amusement with a mask of the fuck are you talking about. Then he shakes his head, going back to his coffee. “I swear to god, you two.” He mumbles into a sip, holding in a chuckle.

“Aw, come on, you love it.” You say with a smile. He raises his eyebrows at you, answering flatly, “Sure I do.” Which only makes you and Ellie laugh more.

With Ellie in the kitchen, the morning is no longer quiet, now filled with banter and conversation. Joel stays mostly quiet with his coffee, observing. He really was enjoying the peacefulness, and it takes a while for his pulse to calm, but what’s important is the two of you; you’re his favorite show. He loves nothing more than to see you two happy. And you fit each other very well—you can actually keep up with her.

You’re his favorite person, and probably Ellie’s favorite, too. The two of you are thick as thieves, and have grown to love making fun out of him. But it’s good, it’s good that you’ve bonded over it. That’s what matters. Because you two are far more important than he is.

—

Joel is exhausted tonight, though the patrol wasn’t too much. A few Infected at the tree line, not much more, but his sleep hasn’t been the best lately. It’s starting to get chilly again, and he has been looking forward to getting home to a warm house, and to hopefully catch Ellie before she goes to bed.

When he enters the house, he can hear familiar, faint giggling from upstairs. He smiles at it, hanging his coat on its hook by the door before starting up the steps. The quiet chatter is coming from Ellie’s room, and his smile only grows as he pushes the door open with his knuckle.

The two of you whip your heads to him, sitting cross legged on the floor.

“What’re you two gigglin’ about?” He asks with a smirked smile.

“Nothing.” Is Ellie’s immediate reply, a mischievous smile plastered on her face.

“Nothin’, huh?” Joel’s heart falls, but he keeps it to himself. “I take it I won’t get to hear about this then, huh?” He tries to keep the smile on his lips, though his chest is starting to ache.

“Yeah, it’s just between us girls, you know.” You smile like Ellie.

“Oh. Ok.” He clears his throat, feet shifting out of the doorway. “I guess I’ll uh, leave you two to it then.” All you do is smile at him, a dismissal of his presence, and he backs out of the doorway and leaves for his bedroom.

As he unties his boots, Joel’s heart gets heavier and heavier. He kicks them off, changes, and slides into bed, wanting the day to be over. But his mind won’t obey, keeping him from sleep once again.

It used to be between him and Sarah. They’d have all kinds of late night talks, granted it wasn’t a school night. He knew everything, all the teachers she liked and didn’t, every crush, why the book she was assigned for homework was stupid. And he’d talk about work, everything that was going on, the deadlines that kept getting impossibly tighter, how the apprentices were doing.

They’d talk about where they wanted to go on vacation, what colleges Sarah was daydreaming about despite her youth, whether or they should get a dog or a cat, what it would be like if Sarah’s mom was still around.

Everything.

On the road, he and Ellie would talk about plenty of stuff. They got close. He remembers when they were riding to where the Fireflies were supposed to be, before he got stabbed by that bat and almost died and then Silver Lake. And then how thought everything was solved right after, and how it wasn’t, and then Salt Lake City happened.

It’s a completely different world. From 2003, from just a couple years ago.

Now, Ellie’s here, in this big community. She’s in school. Living in a house. About as normal as one can get these days.

But it’s not like it was when he had another young girl living with him. He misses that. He misses Ellie.

But at least she has you.

But he wishes it was him. At least, partly, him.

But it’s not.

He closes his eyes.

—

“Joel!” Ellie cries out, violently ripping Joel out of sleep, and he’s instantly on his feet. When he hears your voice crying his name out, too, every cell in his body is in a panic, almost falling as he races down the stairs. What could have happened? Have Infected broken through the gates? Is someone attacking you? Did one, or both of you, get injured? Is he about to lose one of you? This place is supposed to be safe!

When he finally sees you, he’s befuddled.

You’re both smiling in the kitchen, bacon searing in a pan next to one of scrambled eggs.

“We made breakfast!” You announce, both of you giggling.

Joel swallows, standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Are y—is everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah, we just wanted to let you know that we made breakfast.”

Once the shock has worn off, anger bubbles up. He feels it register on his face, but tries his best to reel himself in, swallowing hard. You made him breakfast. You made breakfast for all three of you. That’s a very nice thing to do. All you were doing was waking him up. You weren’t trying to hurt him. You didn’t know how it would affect him, how it would nearly make his life flash before his eyes. That’s his problem, not yours.

“Y—don’t—just, come wake me up next time.” He states, trying to keep a hold on his sternness.

“Jeez,” Ellie raises her brows, “someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

Joel sighs through his nose, looking at you, but all you do is shrug with a smile. He swallows.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, followed by a familiar voice. “Mornin’, just us.” Tommy calls out, he and his wife smiling back at a confused Joel when he opens the door.

“I invited them for breakfast this morning, remember?” You say as you come up beside him, a hand instinctively rubbing his back.

“Oh, I uh,” Joel glances between you and the couple at his door, “must’ve forgot. Come on in.”

“Forgetting a lot these days,” Ellie teases as she sets plates out on the table. Her tone is teasing, but Joel can’t help the tightening of his jaw at the reminder of his failures. When he flicks his eyes back up, he’s me with Tommy’s, and he knows he’s been caught red handed by the concern in them. He switches his gaze right back to the floor, making his way to a seat at the table.

“Wow, look at this spread,” Maria comments, smoothing the cloth napkin under the silverware over her lap, a move that only makes Joel think again, what am I doing here? Cloth napkins alone are something that hadn’t crossed his mind in just about two decades. And despite Maria’s innocent move, paired with her eventual attempt to make him feel more welcome into the community, the resentment he feels for her hasn't quite let him go. So… civilized, so proper. Better than him.

“Well, make sure you serve yourself first, Joel likes to hog bacon.” Ellie returns as the five of you settle down at the table.

“I do not,” he counters, tone mild, though slightly wounded.

“Do to.” She raises her brows as she spoons eggs onto her plate, “You’re gonna need to get a bigger pair of pants soon, swear.”

To his dismay, you’re chuckling when he looks at you. And when he sees the obvious concern in his brother's eyes, he decides it might be best just to keep his head down. So, he hardly says anything at all, despite Tommy’s repeated attempts to bring him into the conversation. He’s busy arguing with himself in his head, still partly angry, but feeling guilty, too. He wants to be pissed. It was a rude awakening, but it was meant to be harmless. It makes him feel like he doesn’t belong here, like his head is still stuck out there outside of the walls. But he should still be on alert, nowhere is really safe, not even Jackson. What if you were hurt? What if something had happened? He needs to be ready. And you two were being reckless, calling wolf like that. But you were just trying to call him to breakfast. It was innocent. You’re both innocent.

And then the fact that he forgot that Tommy and Maria were coming over this morning. He almost can’t believe himself. His mind, his sharpness, clarity, and memory, that he’d relied on for survival, is he losing it? Fucking senile. Fucking weak. Fucking stupid. Selfish, just by being here.

It goes around and around like that, and in the end, he can barely finish his food. Ellie’s earlier teasing doesn’t help, either. She’s right, he has gained some weight since arriving in Jackson, but who can blame him, after being close to starving so often? Well, Ellie can, apparently.

But she means nothing by it, right? And you’re not laughing because you agree, right?

“Hey,” Tommy startles him out of his spiral, cocking his head towards the kitchen when Joel looks up at him, “come help me with the dishes. Least we can do for these ladies making a whole meal for all of us.”

Nodding, Joel gets up to help gather plates and follow his brother to the kitchen. Tommy stays quiet for a few moments as he wipes the plates that Joel washes, but he knows he’s in for a lecture sooner or later.

“Joel.” He finally says, keeping his voice low with the help of the running faucet to keep the conversation quiet. “You gotta say something.”

“About what?” Joel mumbles, keeping his eyes focused on rinsing a soapy plate. He hears his brother sigh.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“It’s fine, Tommy.” He nearly snaps back.

His brother turns to him, “No, it ain’t.” When Joel doesn’t look up, he sighs again. “Look at me, Joel.” Finally he does. “It’s just not right.” Tommy shakes his head, tone both with genuine concern for his brother with a lilt of anger towards you and Ellie. When Joel notices it, he straightens, almost puffing out his chest. Holding himself back from shoving his finger in Tommy’s chest, he replies sternly, “Now don’t you go blaming them for my fuckin’... sensitivity—”

“Stop, Joel.” Tommy takes a breath, taking the last clean plate from his hands and slowly drying it as he speaks. “It just hurts me. To see them treating you like that. And I know they don’t mean it like that, and I know that they don’t know. And that's why I’m tellin’ you, you have to speak up for yourself. Please, Joel, if not for your sake, then for mine, and for theirs.” He points his finger back towards the living room.

Joel huffs, looking back down as the faucet runs over the clean plate. “I'll deal with it.” He says eventually.

Tommy lets out his own huff, pausing. “Alright.” He replies quietly, pausing again before making his way back into the living room. After a moment of watching him go, Joel turns back to the sink, shutting off the tap and swiping up the towel to dry off his hands. “Can’t catch a fuckin’ break.” He mumbles to himself, thinking about what a wonderful way this is to start off his day.

—

This weekend, it’s the second Miller household’s turn to host game night, and after a very loud game of Uno, the five of you have settled down in the living room for a drink—except for Ellie, that is, who, like every time a bottle is opened around her, begged for a glass and rolled her eyes when she was told, no, you cannot have a glass of whiskey on the rocks.

The brothers are stood chatting about the latest fixer upper with their elbows on the mantle while the girls are huddled up on the couch.

“Figure we got about a month left.” Joel concludes, and Tommy nods in agreement, and then their attention is brought to a burst of giggles. It turns the corner of Joel’s lip up, and he inquires, “What so funny over there?”

The giggles stop, and all three of your heads switch over to his question.

“Private,” is all Ellie says, and you have to stifle a giggle.

Having been told that twice now, Joel’s heart falls, but irritation quickly bubbles up. Flustered, his lip twitches, and he hardens his brow.

“Ellie,” he starts, adjusting his arm on the mantle, voice sharp like the glass in his chest, “it’s rude to have a private conversation when we’re trying to all have family time here.”

“Jesus,” Ellie rolls his eyes, only piquing Joel further, “manners!”

“Manners—“ Joel starts, ready to set fire to the entire living room, wounded and now humiliated in front of his brother and his wife, but she interrupts him, “Yeah, manners, we’re over here trying to have a private conversation which you are interrupting. Goes both ways, old man. Don’t get all mad at me cause you’re still so un-domesticated.”

Her tone isn’t serious, but her words make him feel hollow. He shifts on his feet, torn between anger and shame, then glances at Tommy. His brows are upturned, his lips a thin line. Joel’s chest tightens, now frustrated and only further embarrassed at snapping. He hasn’t done that in a while. He’s trying. He’s trying to learn how to be calm. How to breathe. How to be polite. Keep his cool.

But his lip twitches, and his mind goes blank.

“Ellie, knock it off.” He nearly growls. Her eyes widen, brow raised. “Woah, there,” but then you cut in, softer voice almost pleading, “She’s just being a teenager, Joel.”

“Yeah,” he nods, “I know what teenagers are like. Doesn’t mean we have to put up with the bullshit.”

“Joel—” Tommy tries. Joel turns to him, face scrunched, “Don’t Joel, me, Tommy. Am I the only one gettin’ fed up with this shit?”

“What shit?” Ellie cuts back in, face scrunched just the same.

Joel takes a step forward, unable to stop himself. “The shit where you disrespect everyone who—” he pauses. Everyone who’s put their life on the line to put up with you, is what had tempted his tongue. Thank god his teeth had the instinct to bite his tongue when they did, because it would have been something that he didn’t mean, that he didn’t even believe. He glances around at every set of eyes turned to him, all looking like they’re bracing themselves. He falters, lets out a breath, then heads straight for the kitchen. “Fuckin’ bullshit.” Comes out under his breath.

Opening the fridge to set an ice cube that he doesn’t need into his near empty cup, he takes a breath, forcing it out through his nostrils. “The fuck is his problem?” He hears Ellie whisper from the other room, and that’s when the anger slips away to make room for the crushing guilt, and he finds himself unable to move, chest knotted and heavy.

“Hey,” he hears quietly at his side, turning to see Maria leaning against the doorframe.

Snapping back into reality, he closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, knowing ignoring her is unacceptable. He’s just not in the fucking mood.

“Hey.” His voice comes out gruff.

She comes around to his side, forcing him to turn with his back towards the living room. She glances back at it, then lowers her voice. “Tommy talked to me about—“

“Course he did.” Joel grumbles, closing his eyes and swiping his hand over his forehead.

“Yeah,” Maria cuts back in, tilting her head with sharp eyes. Then, she closes them, bowing her head for a moment before coming back up with a forced, calm expression, a strategy he envies deeply. “He did,” she begins again, “because he cares. Therefore, I care. Ellie was rude. And I apologize for that.” Joel closes his eyes and shakes his head, but as soon as his mouth starts to form a rebuff, she cuts him off again. “Can you just let me finish, Joel?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, lowering her tone. “She is the one who doesn’t have manners, she’s the one who has never lived in a civilized community. Not like this. Not like the world before. Because of that, she also doesn't understand boundaries. So,” she sighs, tilting her head again, “being in the position you are, it’s your responsibility to teach her. She doesn’t know what she’s doing because she never learned. You have. You’re a good man, and a strong man.” Joel is taken aback by her words, not expecting a compliment from her, especially not paired with the earnestness in her eyes. “You deserve kindness and respect. Not to say you need to discipline her, just… let her know. How you’re feeling. That she’s hurting you.”

Joel is so tired of saying he’s fine when he isn’t so many times in the last week that he decides to just keep his mouth shut for a moment. After a moment, he nods, staring down at the dregs of gold left in his glass.

“Thank you.” He eventually mumbles.

“You're welcome.” She returns with a tight lipped but genuine smile. Then, she pats his arm, and walks back to the living room, announcing, “Hate to be the one to say it, but it’s bedtime.”

As they bid their goodnights, Joel is almost absent, besides the feeling of tension in the air like static whenever Ellie nears him.

In his head, there’s shame, first and foremost—for snapping at Ellie, to have a problem that Tommy had to talk to his wife about. For not seeing what Maria saw, too wrapped up in his head to see the bigger picture; by letting her down, again.

But there’s something on his mind, too. An idea of how to fix it. Having his head grabbed and forced to look through the lens of being responsible, not just a victim, flicks a switch in his head. The first occurrence of a drive to actually talk to her about it. Now, it’s for her. He can do that. Because he’ll do anything for her.

—

The next night, Joel pauses in front of Ellie’s door, careful to stay out of the line of light coming from her bedside lamp. He raps his knuckles softly on the door, “Hey, you got a sec?”

“Yeah,” Ellie calls back, followed by the soft thwap of a closing book, “come in.”

His steps are hesitant, almost awkward as he makes his way to the bed, permissed to sit when she brings her legs up to fold under her.

“Listen, baby girl,” Joel starts, eyes on the floor as memories of talks with Sarah that always start with that very phrase. “I gotta talk to you about something.”

“Mhm?” She nods, innocence in her eyes that make his gaze land straight back on the floor.

“We just… uh, boundaries.” He attempts at purpose in his voice. “You gotta understand, when, uh, y’know, you can’t just go around teasing people all the time.”

“I don’t tease everyone, I just tease y—“

“Yeah, I know. But you can’t make that a habit, alright? It can hurt people's feelings, sometimes.”

This is the best Joel can do, unable to openly speak on how he feels, tell her that she’s hurt him. But Ellie won’t let him off that easily, her tone softening, sounding almost like she’s just a kid, which she is, but barely ever shows. “I hurt your feelings?”

It comes out so small, fidgeting with her fraying sleeve, and that’s what he focuses his eyes on, afraid that if he meets hers, he’ll freeze at the sight. That he’ll see guilt. But he has a purpose. He can’t let himself trip.

The words pauses and strains in his throat a couple times before he can manage them out. “Yeah, sometimes.”

There’s a pause.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know kiddo, I,” he pauses to sigh as guilt washes through his chest, I deserve it ringing in his head, but then he thinks back to Maria’s words. Then, it hits him. Ellie also needs to learn how to speak up for herself. To know that when someone hurts her feelings, she should confront them—using her words instead of her fists—and that she shouldn’t feel sorry for doing so. “It’s alright, I know you’re not trying to be mean. And I—“ he stops himself again, fidgeting his fingers as he lets the shame pass through and out of him before he speaks again. “Sometimes, I…” he nods, like a nervous tick, eyes safely on the floor as he forces the admission. “I struggle. And I know you know that. And I’m sure it’s been hard on you, too, Jackson… it’s a big adjustment. Haven’t seen anything like this in a long, long time. Having all these people around—friendly people. Sit down meals with real portion sizes. And just… a home. And I love it, I do. But, uh, it’s just… I’m not used to… being… settled down. I’m used to runnin’. Used to fightin’. I startle easy, honey. And sure I shove food in me. And I am getting’ older… but…”

“Takes a lot to get to 58.”

He looks at her then, pausing, then nods. “Yeah. Yeah it does.”

“I know I’ve never actually said it, but… I respect you. Really.” She nods.

After a long moment, processing and recovering from that unanticipated sentiment, Joel nods back. “Now, listen—“ he starts, leaning his elbows on his knees, “I’m not asking you to say yes sir no sir, just… cut me some slack, sometimes. Alright?”

Pretending to think on it, Ellie rolls her eyes around the ceiling with a frown before looking back at him and nodding, a small smirk spreading across her face, making Joel’s lips tug up almost automatically. “I think I can manage that.”

“Now look, I,” he waves his hand out, “I don’t want this to be, you know, like you can’t have fun, I like you talkin’ and messin’ around. Highlight of my day. Sometimes.” He shrugs lightly, getting a small chuckle out of her. “I just… would be nice to… be included.” He nods at her, chest tightening at the vulnerability. “Y’know?”

“Yeah. I get that. How about we just team up on your girlfriend?” She smirks.

Joel shakes his head, chuckling. “Or maybe we’ll just team up on you.”

“Psh. As if you could cut through this thick skin of mine. Do you have any idea what kind of zoo FEDRA school was?” She laughs, brow raised.

“And I’m sure you gave ‘em hell.”

“Well… towards the end, yeah.”

“So you toughened up, huh? Weren’t born like this?”

“Well…” she shrugs. “Not really.” Ellie looks down, tracing spirals on her sheets. “I was real sensitive as a kid.” This makes Joel pause. He imagines her, younger, quiet, reserved, but not in a cagey way—soft. Soft enough to get picked on. He’s not quite sure what to say, but she breaks the silence. “So I get it. And I know it’s not… that bad, but… I don’t want you to think you’re anything less than my favorite person.” The edges of her lip tug up, peering up at him, and Joel’s heart aches, not in pain, but something else that he can’t quite put his finger on. For a moment, he’s frozen, but then he blinks, and retreats his gaze to the floor. “Well, that’s an honor.” He replies quietly.

Ellie chuckles, even though it wasn’t a joke. “Well, you’re very welcome. Guess I shouldn’t call you old man anymore, so, what, just, Joel?” Her face twists up, making him chuckle at how unacceptable that seems to be.

“Joel’s fine.” He smirks.

“Ugh, that’s so boring. How about… cowboy? That’s not disrespectful, is it?”

Joel chuckles again, shaking his head. “No, I wouldn’t say so.” He smirks at her, “Kinda has a nice ring to it.”

“Right?” Ellie replies brightly, and the look on her face makes Joel feel like there was never anything wrong in the first place. He pauses on her smile, one rising to his lips at the sight. That’s my girl.

After a moment of trying to memorize that smile, he sighs deeply, then pats her leg. “Alright, kiddo. Time for bed.”

“Yes, sir.” She replies, a smirk on her lips. He smirks back, rolling his eyes.

A smile sticks to his lips as he walks back to his bedroom, relief flowing through him, and this time, after writing I love you on a sticky note to stick on your pillow, it’s not so hard to close his eyes and drift off to sleep.

He did something, something a father does. He did right by her. Like he used to do right by Sarah.

—

That relief didn’t even last to the morning. Instead, doubt ripped at him. Fear that he’d stepped too far, telling her that she’d hurt him. It’d been hard to meet her eyes all day, afraid to see guilt in them, but she was out and about all day anyway, avoiding him, he assumed.

He can’t stand the thought of losing you or Ellie, but isn’t he starting to already, even if it’s just in his head? He doesn’t feel anywhere near as close to either of you as he once did. Though you still have good times together, though there’s still plenty of love, and you’re still all very much a family, he feels like he’s drifting farther and farther away from it. Like he’s starting to just be looking in through a window, putting on a mask.

More than anything, he wants to keep his family. Desperately, he wants the closeness, the unity, the love. The family. Not just the household, the family.

He loves the two of you like he’s loved no one else, not quite like this. With the world the way it is, it’s a different breed of sacrifice than for the one he had before. And he needs the two of you to know that, how much he loves you. But he wants to feel loved, too.

With that last realization, something snaps inside Joel.

I want to feel loved, too. He almost whispers the thought out loud, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes as the tears slip out. Though he’s alone in his room, both you and Ellie are home, and he can’t let himself get caught crying. He sniffles and looks back up, staring into the dark of the night through the window, but it only reminds him of how alone he feels, fueling more tears. It almost startles him, and he shut his eyes quickly—he’s still not a cryer. He must not have realized just how much he was hurting until now, recognizing that he doesn’t feel nearly as loved as he loves.

You deserve to feel loved, comes a ghostly voice in his head, and it sounds like Sarah, and then he sees her, peering up at him like he should know this, because there’s her face looking at him with those big brown eyes and that light smile and all the love in it, and he clenches his teeth and tightens his body, quieting his shaking sobs.

“Fuck.” He breathes out with a hiccup. “Get your shit together.” And he does try, taking a deep breath and looking at the ceiling, but the tears keep coming, beading at his chin.

Weakness. That’s what’s pouring from his eyes. He was weak, and that’s why Sarah died. He was weak, and that’s why Ellie ended up unconscious in that hospital in the first place.

Too deaf and too slow.

Even when he was two decades younger, he failed.

All he does is let them down.

And look at him now, crying, because he can’t, he can’t tell you the truth, because he’s a coward, and he’s weak.

“Fuck,” heaves out of him as he presses the heels of his hands in his eyes, until it hurts, until he’s seeing stars, and his teeth hurt from the clench of his jaw.

He deserves it. But he’s still hurting them. Everything he does is wrong, even when every instinct in him says it’s right.

I let you down, I let you down, he tells Sarah, he tells Tommy, he tells Ellie, he tells you.

That’s who he is. At his core, he’s a disappointment. No matter how hard he tries—

“Hey,” he hears you at the door, and quickly tries to compose himself, almost slapping his face to wipe the wetness off of it with a quick sniffle. “Hey,” he responds, glancing at you, then planting his gaze on the floor, heart starting to race, being caught red handed again. Immediately, you’re at his side on the bed, but he keeps his gaze turned away, trying but failing to be inconspicuous. But your presence alone in the moment is enough to sprout more tears from his eyes, not from guilt but just from that thing you do to him, making him feel safe enough to be honest, vulnerable. To cry. And then your thumb is on his cheek, brushing the tears away. He clears his throat, still turning away, but he knows he can’t hide now.

“What’s wrong?” Concern drips from your gentle voice, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Nothin’, I’m alright.” He clears his throat again, though shame starts to boil him, from the crying, and now the lying.

“No, you’re not.”

He sighs through his nose.

“You’re a shit lair.” You try to jest, but it’s just another knife in his chest. Back in the most gentle of tones, you sound almost like you’re begging, “Joel, tell me.”

He swallows thickly, eyes still on the floor. “I don’t know, it’s just, uh,” he tries to clear his throat again, but his face falls, brow drawing up as more tears streak his cheeks.

“Joel, Joel,” you reply instantly, pulling his face to meet your eyes, and he watches your face fall like a ball of lead when you see his pain, then begging him in a whisper, “please, tell me what’s going on.”

It pushes the confession out of him. “I—I don’t wanna make you feel bad, but I just, I just,” he huffs a sigh, “I just feel like the three of us, aren’t as close as we used to be. With—with Ellie, I know that we were on the road, so, we kinda had to be, and with you, ya know… I don’t know. Things have just, changed, and uh,” his voice breaks, but he tries to regain control with a shaky breath, turning his gaze to the floor. “Jackson is a good place, for Ellie, and for you, for all of us, and you and Ellie are close, and that’s good, it’s good. I don’t wanna be ungrateful, I don’t—” you, sensing his back turning on his own feelings, urge him again, voice gentle as a petal, “Joel, tell me.”

He pauses, looking back at you, then confesses, “I just feel like I’m, not who I used to be, to you two.”

You’re visibly taken aback, brow drawing up. “What do you mean?” You nearly whisper.

He closes his eyes, lip starting to wobble. “E—Ellie talks to you, and that’s good,” he nods, “it’s good, it’s, great, but uh… she doesn't talk to me like that, and uh, I used t’, I used to have… those conversations, with Sarah” Joel’s head drops as soon as her name leaves his lips, and your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him immediately to your chest. His heavy hand slides up your side, holding you halfheartedly. There’s the sorrow and shame and pain, but feeling your body against his offers some comfort. It’s followed closely by more sorrow, now allowed, and the words continue to fall out. “An’ uh, you an’—an’ I, I dunno, it’s just, changed, an’, like I said, it’s good you’re close to Ellie, it’s my favorite thing to see, but, but I—”

Before he can finish, you bring him to face you again, cupping his cheeks with your thumbs brushing over the wet streaks, eyes full of sincerity. “I love you.”

Joel closes his eyes, nodding again, leaning into your touch. “I know, I know you do.” He looks at you again, “An’ I love you, too, an’ I need you to know that, an’ that’s why I, I haven’t said anythin’, but I… I don’t want you to feel bad,” he shakes his head, “I—” he stops himself abruptly, sighing deeply and shaking his head again. “Nevermind. Forget it. I’m bein’ a child.” Joel stands up, on his way to retreating straight through the front door and into the cold night, but your grip on his arm surprises him.

“Joel.” When he looks at you, you pause, expression dripping with sympathy, but the first emotion that comes out of him is disgust.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you pity me.” He answers immediately, pulling his arm away and looking at the ground. “You know I can’t stand that shit. Doesn’t even fuckin’ matter. It’s nothin’. Just… lost my… composure. It’s fine. It’s nothin’.” He goes to leave again, but is caught just the same, this time you coming to your feet to pull his arm.

“No, it is not, Joel. You don’t get like this if it’s nothing.” You tug his arm again, trying to take his attention. When he looks at you again, he pauses at the pleading in your eyes. “Joel.” You whisper, “Tell me.”

He swallows thickly, and reluctantly comes back to sit on the bed.

It’s another sharp battle in his mind as he does, the familiar self hatred, but now there’s the guilt of shutting down with you. There have been many conversations, and a promise made. He can’t break it. He can’t break your trust again. So, he speaks, though the words feel thorny in his throat. “I love you. I love seein’ you happy. More than anythin’ I love seein’ you and Ellie happy. You two are everythin’ to me. I want you, always. Life would be nothin’ without you, and without Ellie, and I jus’—I jus’ want you two to be happy,” his voice breaks again, “and that’s why I—I didn’t want to say anythin’, I don’t want to ruin your fun, y—you can joke around, I want you to, even if it’s at my expense I—I just kinda wish I was… included.” Pain lilts his last word. Suddenly feeling childish again, he drops his head. “I shouldn’t be whinin’.” He shakes his head.

“Joel—”

“You’re right, anyway, I’m old, an’ fuckin’ sensitive,” the sourness of the word is obvious in his voice and on his face, “I’m weak an’ everythin’ you two say is true, I,”

“Joel—”

“It’s true, and I shouldn’t be gettin’ this worked up about jus’ some jokes, I’ve just gotten fuckin’ soft,”

“Joel—”

“I’ve jus’ been lettin’ myself go, I guess, I fuckin’ deserve it, shit, I deserve much worse, for all the shit I’ve done,”

“Joel.” Your forceful tone breaks him out of his rant. “No. You don’t, and I’m sorry—”

He hangs his head, “No, I—”

“Joel.” You move his head to look at you again, “no, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, and I should have—you’re not weak, and you don’t deserve us making fun of you. I just didn’t see it, and that’s my fault, we were being mean,” Joel tries to protest, but you speak over him, “we were, you’re just so damn good at hiding how you feel, and I just wasn’t paying attention. And that’s my fault. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be giving you such a hard time all the time. And that is not what I meant by saying you’re sensitive. That is not a bad thing, Joel.” You sigh, looking into his eyes with yours full of love. “Sensitive doesn't mean weak. It’s humanity. I love that you can be soft. And that’s not a small ask. You are not a bad person. With what the world is now, there are plenty of people who have done much worse. Joel, you still have a heart, and it’s full, and you’re giving, you’re self sacrificing, Jesus, Joel, you’ll do anything for people you love. And yeah, it gets messy, but it’s love. You have been through so much. But you still have your heart. And I love it more than anything, Joel. More than anything. I love you,” you pause to kiss his forehead, “I love you to pieces, Joel, I adore you, and I want you to know that. And I haven’t been showing that. And that’s my fault. None of this is on you, love.”

“I just want you two to be happy…” Joel whispers, looking into your eyes.

“We want you to be happy, too.”

“I just don’t wanna ruin your fun—”

Ellie’s voice interrupts, “We want you to have fun, too, Joel.” You both snap your heads to her standing in the doorway, looking almost small, fingers brushing the edge of the door she’s cracked open.

“Ellie…” Joel hangs his head, voice dripping with shame. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

She comes almost charging in, sitting at Joel’s other side to wrap her arms around his shoulders. He leans into it immediately, turning to wrap his arms right back around her. She buries her face into the crook of his neck, and he holds her tighter, sighing shakily. “I’m sorry, baby girl.”

“No, I’m sorry.” She says, muffled into his shoulder. Then, she whispers, “I just didn’t know. Thought you just knew that you were the shit.” This gets a small chuckle out of him, warmth filling his chest as he holds onto her, her small arms wrapped around his shoulders. She buries her face further into the crook of his neck, and Joel sighs deeply, knowing that Ellie is the most precious thing on this planet.

After a moment more in the embrace, they pull away slowly. Joel looks at the floor, sighing, and smooths his hand over you and Ellie’s knees.

“I love you two more than anythin’.”

“And we love you, too.”

Joel sighs. “I know.”

“Not enough, though.” You tell him, folding your hand into his and squeezing it. “Like Ellie said, you're the fucking shit.” You smile, though there’s still the upturn between your brows and wetness in your lashes. “And you deserve to be shown that.”

Joel sighs, looking back at the floor. “I don’t want this t’… mess everything’ up, I want you guys to have your fun,”

“Oh, we can’t stop having fun.” Ellie smiles, “But it’s not fun without you.” Joel smiles back with a small chuckle, squeezing her knee. She puts her head on his shoulder and sighs. “We love you, Joel.”

“I know. An’ I love you, too.”

A silence falls, a blanket of calmness, but it feels warmer than ever. Though he broke down in front of both you and Ellie, he’s relieved that he did. Honesty is freeing. It’s all out on the table, and the only thing he got out of it was love. No anger, no shaming, but kindness, care. Love.

As he sits, a contented smile raises to his lips. He feels the warmth of his family. He sighs. His family.

—

Coming home from his last late night shift of the week, a tired Joel stamps his snowy boots on the mat inside the door, breathing out a relieved sigh. The house has felt warmer ever since the heart-to-heart the other night.

“He’s gonna love it.” Comes your voice from upstairs, raising his curiosity, so he hangs his jacket and starts for the stairs.

“I hope so.” Is Ellie’s quiet reply, but he can still tell it’s coming from his room.

When he walks in, you flip your heads around, Ellie’s hands on a frame being hung on the wall across from him.

“Hey.” He says, confused.

You turn to him with a smile, “Welcome home, Joel. Ellie has a surprise for you.” Ellie attempts to smile, but is obviously shy. She finishes hanging the large frame and steps back, eyes staying on Joel.

Instantly, he can recognize what it is, and his breath hitches. On the wall is a pencil sketched portrait of him. Almost in shock, he walks closer. The likeness is amazing, but still with the penciled brush of her distinctive style. “Damn, Ellie.” He says quietly, trying to keep composed. “This is amazing, sweetheart.”

“That’s what I said.” You say, a smile in your voice. “I guess she’s so used to seeing your face so much she’s pretty much memorized it.”

That hits home.

“Thanks.” Ellie replies, still shy. He glances at her, then pulls her close to his side as he looks back at the drawing, unable to keep his eyes off of it.

“When did you…”

“It took a few days.”

“Ellie…” tears start to well up in his eyes, so he clears his throat. “Damn.” He sniffles.

“I’m glad you like it.” She replies, face squished against him with her arms wrapped around his middle.

“I love, baby girl, I love it. I love it.” He kisses her head, squeezing her tighter. After another moment of staring at the piece, he looks down at her, met with a smile, and he chuckles at the remaining shyness, tickled at the idea that she should be anything other than extremely pleased with herself. This little girl is talented. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” She replies, smile widening.

He looks back at you then, at the smile on your face, pride in Ellie, adoration at the moment he’s sharing with her. “C’mere.” He says, offering his other arm out, and you oblige almost with haste, laying your head on his shoulder with his arm around your waist.

“It really is amazing, Ellie.” You tell her.

“Took me a few days, and a lot of erasing, and swearing, but I think it turned out alright.”

“Alright,” Joel chuckles, “Ellie, I—” when his eyes find the ghosted outline of that scar hidden in his hairline, he can’t finish his sentence, the start of a sob catching in his throat. He sniffles and sighs, rubbing her arm. “Damn. Means the world to me, Ellie.”

“Well, you mean the world to me.”

He looks down at her again, but all she does is press her cheek into his side. He half chuckles, half sniffles again, chest full to the brim with gratitude and joy and love. The feeling of being loved.

You both love him, and he knows it, he does, but it’s been foggy. But this gift from Ellie, knowing how hard she worked on it, and that she didn’t even need a reference, she just knows his face, is just something else.

He can get in his head about things, you’ve helped him to realize that, but he hasn’t quite gotten the hang of getting out of it.

But this does. He sees his graphite reflection, coming from Ellie’s loving little hands. He’s important. He means something. His purpose and meaning is love, it’s family, it’s you and Ellie and Tommy.

And everything everyone has done to try to help him see it. Tommy’s urging, Maria’s wisdom, your care and concern, and Ellie’s work.

Reflecting on it, the love becomes more and more clear.

All the smiles he sees from you Ellie, her first impulse still to laze on him in the couch, the touches and kisses from you as natural as the air itself. Tommy, able to read him like a book, nearly begging him to stand up for himself, because Tommy thinks he deserves better. Maria stepping in, not to scold, but to empathize. Your immediate amends, the tugging of his arm. Pulled in by the ones he loves every day.

Whether he thinks he deserves it or not, the most important people do. And he has it. It would be foolish to push it away. And he just doesn’t need to anymore. He has his home here. And he wants it more than anything. And he’s earned it. So he’ll take it. In Jackson, what else is there to do but live in this love?

In his graphite reflection, he sees the love that belongs to him, and feels the warmth of it at his sides.

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rainbowhao · 2 days

Text

we're just friends, right? ♡ beomgyu

genre: fluff/pining ⭒ word count: 0.8k ⭒ read part one

synopsis: the line between friends and lovers is blurred

it didn’t help that you were always clingy towards beomgyu. everyone was convinced you were dating and the more-than-friendly actions only made things worse. it’s just that you were a little touchy, that’s all. so what if you stared at each other longer than deemed normal? it’s not like you were in love with him or something.

only now, you weren't so sure.

“yeonjun said something about us again.” you only mentioned it to see his reaction. your fingers had resumed tracing his skin, the two of you lying there as if it was entirely normal to wake up in the same bed together.

gyu’s mouth quirked at this. “what’d you say?”

“to worry about his own love life.”

he chuckled. “still won’t let it go. even soobin’s been on me more than usual.”

“yeah?” you tried not to appear too interested.

he hummed. “wouldn't it be funny if we actually started dating, though? imagine their reactions.”

“yeah, funny.” you didn’t have it in you to laugh. as you examined the little bears on his pajamas, mouth downturned, beomgyu looked over at you hopefully.

catching a cold only furthered your confusion. your best friend had been quick to bundle you up and tuck you into his own bed (he’d insisted you stay at the dorm to make things easier). did whatever you needed—brought you soup, ran a warm bath—and even in your delirious state, his gentle hair stroking had your heart racing.

“that feel good, baby?” beomgyu asked softly. you were watching him through half-lidded eyes. he didn’t even seem to notice the nickname slip. a washcloth dabbed at your forehead, his fingers gently moving aside your damp hair.

[a/n: had to set my phone down after this one]

then there was the fact that every time he offered to buy you a treat, he’d smear a little ice cream on your cheek. it was a harmless gesture—you’d glare at him, he’d hand you a napkin—only this time, he was a little bolder, loud laughter fading into seriousness.

“i'll get it,” he told you.

you were entirely still as he wiped away the sticky substance with the pad of his thumb. he took his time, body close to yours and expression filled with nothing but adoration.

you were about to swat him away with how long he looked. “what?” you sighed.

“nothing,” gyu said quickly before licking his finger.

you narrowed your eyes. “why are you staring?”

he ignored this. “i want a taste of yours.” his attention was now directed at the strawberry cone. but when you tried to hand it to him, he shook his head. “feed it to me.”

so you brought the ice cream to his lips; your hand was shaky as you did so. heat filled your chest as you glanced around nervously. there was no one else around to see the tender act—just the boy who stood patient with long fluttering eyelashes and a mouth parted.

“yum.” he swallowed, tongue licking away the remaining drops in the corner of his lips after finishing the (very large) bite he’d taken. you had to force yourself to look away.

“actually, i lied.” beomgyu confessed a minute later.

you were finishing your cone. “huh?”

“i didn’t really want your ice cream. i mean—i wanted to taste something else.” he stumbled before eventually falling silent, eyes widening in realization. “shit, that came out wrong. hold on.”

the thing about beomgyu was that whenever he was embarrassed, he’d get the urge to bury his face in the crook of your neck—press his burning cheeks against your skin and squeeze his eyes shut. even now, in the middle of the park, was no exception.

“gyu,” you laughed, hand automatically finding his back, “what are you doing?”

“hiding,” he grumbled. “i’m messing this up.”

you patted him lightly. “what do you mean? can’t you just tell me?”

his response was muffled.

“a little louder,” you urged.

“ah, seriously,” beomgyu huffed before pulling back. you could hear him loud and clear now. “i said i want to kiss you , not eat your dumb ice cream.”

somewhere along the way, the long-running joke about you and beomgyu secretly liking each other had become entirely real. suddenly, it didn’t feel so far out of reach—you and him dating.

“you,” you gulped, “you want to—”

“please don’t make me say it again,” he pleaded. with a defeated sigh, his head lulled forward til his forehead gently knocked yours. “can’t keep pretending anymore.”

his skin was warm, white shirt billowing in the afternoon breeze. his hands gripped your waist like he was scared you would run away. your palm came up to press flat against his chest, eyes fluttering closed. you could feel his rapid heartbeat.

“me either,” you said honestly.

“would love to see the looks on their faces.” he smirked. “maybe this will finally shut them up.”

beomgyu wasted no time taking your lips in his. his kisses were soft and needy, fingers pressing into your sides. neither of you could stop smiling, eventually pulling away just to giggle in each other’s arms because you were so happy.

“if you think i was clingy before,” you’re grinning now, “prepare to be absolutely smothered.”

#beomgyu #tomorrow x together #txt #choi beomgyu #txt x reader #txt imagines #txt yeonjun #txt scenarios #txt fluff #txt fanfic #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu x reader #txt fics #beomgyu fics #kpop imagines #txt drabbles #beomgyu drabbles

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mammonsrockstargf · 13 hours

Text

𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍’

Mammon wants to find a treasure. First step? Find a siren.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Mammon x gn!siren!reader 𝐀𝐍: Back with the Pirate Mammon agenda. >:D Also this ended up being 2.6k words, I don’t know what happened I was just in the zone, I guess.

Mammon wanted to be a pirate. He had a pirate crew. He had a ship. Yet it didn't feel like he was entirely there yet. He even bought a cool outfit: a loose beige shirt and a pair of brown pants. He'd gotten a belt with a little pouch and a handy knife hanging from it. As a final touch, he'd gotten a gold chain with a little coin attached to it around his neck. He even considered getting a bootleg, but he figured that would be going too far.

Mammon didn't know it yet, but he would later come to find that the 17th century was his favourite human era. Pirates were quite literally everywhere, and the sweet, sweet smell of greed was constantly in the air. It was a peak that he would go on to chase for a long time. The California gold rush in the eighteen fifties and the capitalism of the 2000s would come near it, but nothing will ever quite compare to the true pirate experience.

One day, Mammon came to the obvious conclusion. If you want to be a pirate, you have to go find a treasure. No one's a real pirate until they've been on a hunt.

Now, going about finding a treasure wasn't something you just did. You had to have a map. Or a poorly written piece of paper with a prophecy from some witch high on mushrooms. Even better yet would be a magic compass that points to where your heart most desires.

Unfortunately for Mammon, he didn't have any of those things. He just had a wonky-looking crew and a poorly made ship. Apparently, all the good pirates weren't particularly interested in following a lanky, inexperienced, white-haired boy who’d barely finished adolescence. (He tried explaining to them that he was actually thousands of years old several times, but that just made them seem to think that he was drunk, so he eventually gave up.)

So now he was left with the guys that no one else really wanted. A tall, lanky guy with a glass eye, a shorter, fat guy who claimed that he could boil excellent potatoes. A guy with a breath so stinky that it could rival a sea monster, and a short, very strong woman who was actually quite reasonable and definitely Mammon's favourite, but no one wanted her in their crew, because apparently, women aboard meant bad luck.

He appointed a fellow named Crab as his right hand because he was apparently the one with the most experience. There were whispers that he used to sail with a captain known as The Wise, but he was eventually kicked off the crew because he kept stealing the rum. Mammon had asked why they called the man Crab, but that had just made the majority of the crew laugh loudly, so he decided not to press the issue any further.

Crab was a funny-looking guy. He was tall and burly, and half of his face was covered by a red beard, but apparently, he'd gotten too close to a canon once, which lit his beard on fire, and now it wouldn't grow back on the other half of his face.

Crab told Mammon that if he wanted to find a treasure, they had to go to the sea of the sirens. It was also known as The Waste because no one dared to sail there. It was told that the song of the sirens was so beautiful that it would turn any man mad, causing him to jump in the water and meet a horrible fate. However, if one tied himself to the mast, he would live to hear the sirens' secrets. Amongst these, was a promise of a great treasure.

Mammon was brave. He was also quite stupid. So he slapped Crab on the back, laughed loudly, and told him it was a great idea.

So the journey began.

They sailed for seven days, living off jerky and excellent boiled potatoes, because that’s all Mammon could afford to buy. (At least that's what he told the crew. Truth be told, he just saw an easy way to save some money.) As they sailed closer to The Waste, the weather grew gloomier and the men became greyer, yet Mammon was as happy as ever. He was finally getting his treasure. He would return home with riches his brothers could only dream of.

Soon enough, they were near where the sirens resided. The men all put wax in their ears to prevent themselves from hearing their song. Mammon was tied to the mast. Initially, Crab wanted to tie him with rope, but Mammon insisted he go with a chain instead. It was the thickest chain they’d been able to find. Crab had stared at it in disbelief before glancing at Mammon.

“Quite a paranoid fella, aren’t ya, boy?”

“Not paranoid. Just very strong.”

Crab had laughed at that, and then they’d bought the chain.

The ship slowly entered The Waste. Large cliffs were peeking out of the water, marking the entrance to the treacherous sea. Stuck among the cliffs was an old shipwreck. Most of the wood was rotten, caused by the harsh waves constantly throwing themselves against the cliffs. This all seemed terribly ominous to Mammon, but what made a deep shiver run down his back was the big red letters written on the wood.

Stay away

Turn back

Don’t sail near them

Mammon swallowed. He found it weird that the writings had managed to stay on the boat and hadn’t been washed away by the waves yet. He looked up at where Crab was standing. Wax was completely covering his ears, and he sent Mammon a crooked smile. Mammon catched a flash of gold teeth beside a cracked one.

It was quiet for a long time. Then he heard it. Beautiful voices. He wasn't able to make out any words, but the melodies seemed to caress his ears. He looked down at the water and saw a flash of a golden tail. The scales were glinting in the sun. He gasped in delight, and then it was gone again.

The voices were louder now, and they were harmonising. He began to feel giddy and let out a delighted laugh. The golden tail appeared again, and this time it was there for longer.

Suddenly, your head peaked up from the water. Your hair was wet, but somehow it was still flowing around you, as though you were still underneath the water. You stared at him with big, glassy eyes. Mammon was completely unable to tear his gaze away from you.

You watched the ship pass by you before disappearing underneath the water again. Mammon felt a tug in his chest, desperately wishing to see you again, and sure enough, you turned up closer to the ship this time. You opened your mouth to sing again, and Mammon still couldn't hear your words, but he knew that they were beautiful. He knew that you held all of the secrets to the world, that if he could pull apart the symphonies and pick apart the words, he'd discover a great treasure. If only he could get just a bit closer.

He began to pull at his restraints. The metal dug into his skin, creating red marks as he pulled harder. The corners of your lips turned slightly upward as you tilted your head to the side. He could hear you calling for him. It was so loud that he didn’t hear Crab yelling at him, telling him to get a grip, nor did he hear the loud creaking of the wood behind him.

At last, the chains broke and fell to his feet. Mammon didn't waste a second, immediately running across the deck and jumping headfirst into the water.

The water was cold, but he hardly felt it when he saw you in all of your otherworldly glory. Your tail was long and orange at the top. It slowly faded to a more golden colour at the bottom. Towards the end, it connected to two long fins, along with one on each of your sides, that helped you navigate through the water. You had gills along your ribs and on your neck that blew small bubbles whenever you breathed.

You were watching him curiously before you swam a bit closer to him. Mammon went to open his mouth to address you and ask you who you were, but when he did, his mouth filled with water. He coughed, causing it to travel down his lungs.

He winced at the uncomfortable feeling. Demons didn't need air to live, but it was preferable not to have water in your lungs. You were very close to him now, and you grabbed his wrists, your long, cold, elegant fingers with sharp nails wrapping around him, in order to keep him steady in the water and stop him from squirming around. Four of your fingers, apart from your thumb, were connected by thin skin. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, and the blood flowing underneath his skin.

You smiled at him, and Mammon saw your teeth for the first time. There were several rows, like a shark, and they were sharp and pointy.

Mammon thought you had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

You pursed your lips as if to kiss him, but instead, you blew a bubble, and Mammon felt the pain in his chest dissipate as air surrounded him again. You blew until you were connected by the bubble as well, and for the first time, you were fully face-to-face.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hey,” he replied.

“You’re not a man,” you stated, while your eyes travelled down his form. You were still holding onto his wrists, and you slid a sharp nail along his arm, causing a tiny cut to appear, golden blood trickling out of it. It immediately closed itself again, leaving no trace behind.

“No, I’m not,” Mammon said, and he felt a need to apologise to you for not being what you were expecting. You frowned and clicked your tongue, confusion etched into your features by the way your brows furrowed.

“What are you, then?” You asked, and you swam the tiniest bit closer to him while you slightly sniffed the air.

“I’m the great Mammon,” he replied, and he flashed you his signature grin. You pulled back a little and frowned, while you wondered why the strange creature was baring his teeth at you.

“I’ve never heard of a mammon,” you cautiously said. Mammon was completely oblivious to your obvious confusion, as he felt the pride swell up in his chest. This magnificent being in front of him found him interesting. He could hardly believe it. His brothers were never going to hear the end of this from him.

“Well, there’s only one, and you’re lookin’ at him,” he replied. You stared at him. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, not knowing what to say. There was a long silence as you considered what to do. You were going to eat him, but he smelled powerful. Powerful usually meant poisonous as well. Your uncle Grouch learned that the hard way.

“You can go,” you finally said, and the smile was immediately wiped off Mammon’s face, replaced with a pout.

“What?” he asked, and you thought that he looked like a kicked sea puppy. You tilted your head to the side, wondering why he was disappointed. He should be happy that you were not attempting to eat him, but the pout on his face stayed on.

“You’re free of my spell. I’m not interested in a mammon,” you said, waving your hand. You had let go of his wrists a while ago, but when you turned to swim away, he was the one who held on to you.

His touch felt warm. It was practically searing into your skin, unlike anything you had ever felt before.

It was the first time you ever felt that kind of warmth. It wasn’t the low humming of life from your usual prey. This was strong. Born from sea foam and used to harsh waves and low sea temperatures, you'd never felt anything like it. Sirens weren’t kind or affectionate and even the ones you called family, born from the same foam as you, showed no love for you. It made you gasp in surprise, and Mammon quickly retreated his hand, apologizing profusely.

You glared at him, wondering why you were feeling this way all of a sudden.

"I would like you to go back to your ship now, sailor," you said and Mammon grinned at you. Your cheeks were flushing, something you didn't know was possible. You were able to catch two pretty fangs in the row of teeth he was flashing, and it made something inside you flutter slightly.

Those were some very pretty teeth.

"Let's make a deal, yeah?" he said and your attention was caught in his net. If there's one thing a siren loved, it was a trade.

"Yes?" you asked, wanting him to continue. Mammon's smile widened as he realized he had your focus. Yet, he could not help wanting more, more, more. More of your interest, more of your pretty eyes examining him.

"You tell me where ya pretty little treasure is, and I'll come back with it for ya," he said and the corner of your lips turned upward. You had no need for material possessions. You found gold and jewellery boring. It all paled in comparison to your tail.

But this Mammon. You wanted more of him. So if a silly deal would mean that he came back to you, then you'd take it. You leaned in, and you whispered the secret of the treasure in his ear. Mammon flushed at your closeness, as he felt your cold breath on his earlobe, but he kept his composure.

You moved back to look him in the eyes and he caught a glint of yellow in your irises as you smiled so prettily, sharp teeth peeking out slightly. Your eyes trailed down to his necklace and you grabbed the coin attached to it with two fingers. Then you looked back up and leaned forward to press a short kiss to his lips and whispered against him.

"Come back to me,"

Mammon woke up on a beach, the waves slightly pulling at him. He groaned into the sand, feeling an incoming headache. He pushed himself up and looked around, seeing that he had made it to a small island. For a second he considered if it had all been a dream, but then he reached for his necklace, only to find it missing. He smiled to himself, imagining you swimming around wearing his necklace. Then he heard Crab's bouldering voice and loud splashes of water. He looked behind him, to find his right-hand man running toward him.

"There ya are, idiot! What were ya thinkin'!" the man roared, and Mammon winced at the volume. Behind Crab, his ship was anchored and he could see the rest of his crew, curiously looking.

The memories came flowing back to Mammon, and he smiled, immediately grabbing Crab as he reached him, and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

"I know where our treasure is!"

AN: I’ve been proofreading for an hour or so and I don’t feel like it anymore, so if there are any mistakes then I apologize. 😫

Pretty divider by @/cafekitsune

#fics #mammon #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me swd #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon x you #obey me fluff #obey me fic #obey me mammon fluff #obey me fanfic

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fvcking-fae · 12 hours

Text

Alien Scientist x Abducted Human story part 3

Part 1

Part 2

The machine was intimidating. You had never used one on earth but had always wondered what it was like. And after the first time, you couldn’t stop thinking about getting strapped down again.

You were told that the “appendage” attached to it was the same basic shape as the ones that the male aliens possess. Long, soft, and pointed. Not unlike an octopus tentacle, just no suckers and transparent. It was however “veiny” like a human penis.

The alien was just finishing up attaching electrodes to your chest and securing the straps to your wrists and ankles.

“Comfortable?”

You nodded and kept staring at the toy on the machine.

“If you wish, I could administer the aphrodisiac again. You seem… slightly threatened.”

“No, thank you though. I want to feel it unmediated again.”

He nodded and pulled the machine closer, maneuvering it directly in front of your open legs. You were beginning to drip and felt yourself turn red.

“You’re arousal is not something to be embarrassed about. Remember, I’m conducting research.”

You sighed and watched him pull out the lubricant. He poured it directly onto your clit and you felt it drip down your folds and he slowly massaged it around, inserting two long fingers into you. You gasped and clenched around them and he smiled softly.

“Such an interesting reaction. Forgive me if I continue with my curiosities again. Your mannerisms are very fascinating.” He said as he took his fingers away and slathered the toy in lube as well. He rinsed his hands and slowly pushed the machine into position. You felt just the tip of it at your opening and you wriggled a little out of impatience.

“Tell me when you’re ready.”

You let out a long breath and nodded. “I’m ready.”

He turned the knob slowly and the toy inched its way into your hole, stretching you little by little the further it went. You clenched and whimpered at the size and the alien continued to watch your vitals.

The toy soon bottomed out and you looked down to see it bulging out of your stomach a little. You’re breathing was getting slightly heavier as it started to pull out and slide back in. It fucked into you slowly and it felt so good, the fullness of it. You couldn’t help the soft moans you started letting out.

He cleared his throat. “If you’re willing, I have another instrument I’d like to use. Strictly for humans with your particular genitalia.” You could barely focus but you nodded. He reached up to a cord hanging from the ceiling and pulled it down. The end of it had a small suction cup shape with a… tongue? Something tongue shaped and wet. He gently rubbed your clit, pushing your slick lips apart as the toy pumped into you, and he placed the suction cup onto your clit, the tongue thing resting right against your little bud. He held it there and pressed a button on your monitor and it started vibrating and sucking at your clit. You gasped and moaned louder, your body jerking at the sensation.

You had played with a few vibrators before and been eaten out before but this felt different and better. Both sensations combined and controlled. This machine had just ruined all other vibrating toys and human mouths. You involuntarily pulled at your restraints as the tongue shape licked at your bud.

He turned the knob on the machine slowly and it pumped a little faster into you. You could feel yourself getting close but you didn’t want to cum. You whined loudly.

“F-fuck…” Your back started to arch and your hips were bucking as you got closer to climaxing. You suddenly felt a cool touch on your stomach, right over where the toy was bulging over and over. The alien was feeling it. He slowly inched his hand up and rested it on one of your breasts, then gently pinched your nipple. You moaned softly and whined as he did it again and again. He was so curious.

With one hand one your nipple, he reached back with the other hand and turned the knob slowly all the way up. The toy fucked into you faster and the suctioning vibrator helped you over the edge. You pulled at the restraints hard and threw your head back in climax, squeezing down on the toy.

He let the machine fuck into you for a few more seconds. He had learned that a human females orgasm can last longer than a males so he wanted to be thorough… and generous. The knob was turned down slowly to a stop and the suction vibrator was removed. You panted heavily and let out a small whimper as the toy was removed carefully. It left you squeezing around nothing and feeling so empty and wet.

Quickly, he grabbed a cloth and cleaned the mess between your legs before he undid your straps and pulled a thin sheet over your naked body so you could curl up in it.

“… thank you, for letting me observe.” He hesitated. “Help yourself to the nourishment pantry whenever you’re ready.”

You nodded softly, blushing deeply as he gathered your information and left the room. Did you see him blushing too?

#L writes #monster fucker #monster fucking #monster kink #monster lover #teratophillia #terato #monster fudger #monster fuqqer #alien kink #exophile #exophilia

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httpiastri · 13 hours

Text

NSFW alphabet – pa17

author's note: hello hello, finally finished this <333 (after idk how many months lmao) happy to finally post it! hope u enjoy !!! and please let me know if you have any opinions or thoughts, feel very free to fill in with what you think abt these prompts (or any other paul prompts 🤭) hehe

nsfw content below !! minors dni !!!

a – aftercare (what he is like after sex)

i see paul as someone who doesn't like to make a mess, so the clean-up process is important to him. he'll either want to clean you both up with a warm, wet towel, or take a good old shower. he'll find it super cute if you don't have the energy to shower because he'll love holding you up, having you lean against his chest as the water pours on you two.

but in general, i think he'll be very soft after sex. he makes sure to tell you how good you did, praising you and letting you know how much he adores you. it's a lot of smiles and giggles, a very lighthearted vibe. and he craves skin-on-skin contact, holding you close and brushing his fingers along your skin.

b – body part (his favorite body part of his and also his partner's body)

his favorite body part of his own is his hands – just because he knows how much you love them. he loves how he can use them to give you so much pleasure, and how much you tremble from just his touch.

his favorite body parts of yours are anything he can cover with his hands. he loves seeing how big his hands are compared to your body, so holding you in his hands makes him crazy. he likes your boobs, butt and thighs specifically. (boob man!paul headcanons here)

c – cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

like i mentioned before, he dislikes making a mess. so cum will go either inside of you, in your mouth, or possibly on your chest, but then he's gotta be ready to clean it all up quickly (or lick it up). he isn't a fan of the like stickyness of it, especially in combination with your sweat, so he'll want to clean you both up after your session.

d – dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his)

i wouldn't say that i think paul is a switch, but he definitely enjoys being bossed around by you every once in a while. he loves it when you think you're in charge (when in reality, he's just toying with you, sorry), he thinks it makes you look so cute.

e – experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?)

hmmm honestly he's young so i wouldn't say he's got a ton of actual experience. though, i still think he knows what he's doing; he's a fast learner, good at adapting, and he listens well to your needs and wants. he's really good at picking up on your little signs and tells of how you like a specific thing, which i think makes him seem more experienced than he actually is. i also think he's learned a lot from watching videos, so don't be surprised when he pulls out some random trick that has you falling over the edge immediately and he just says "i saw it online"….

f – favorite position (this goes without saying)

mmmm paul will never be a more content man than he is when his girlfriend is riding him. is this a biased opinion? possibly, but i really see him enjoying it because 1. boobs on full display, so easy for his hands to cup. 2. he really enjoys not having to do as much work, especially after a long weekend etc. 3. again, he likes you thinking you're in charge when in reality, he's definitely going to be thrusting up into you.

though i also think he loves something where he can be more in control, setting the pace and just making sure you feel good. paul is a simple man, and nothing gets him going like a good old missionary where he can pin his girl's hands over her head and watch her gaze flutter as he thrusts into her.

g – goofy (is he more serious in the moment? is he humorous? etc.)

paul is a goofy guy but also very serious at times? which makes me think that he would be more serious during the deed. he'd of course be able to smile or laugh a little if something funny happened, but mostly he just wants to enjoy the intimacy and get as much out of the moment as possible.

h – hair (how well groomed is he? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

when i said i think he doesn't like things to be messy, his hair falls under that category, too. he wouldn't be completely clean-shaven, but he likes things to be neat and tidy.

i – intimacy (how is he during the moment? the romantic aspect)

i personally feel like he can be quite romantic? not over the top but a bit. i think half the time, it's just a good old fuck, but the other time he sees it more as lovemaking and he gets really soft about it. it depends a lot on his mood and the day, but if he's in the right state of mind, he loves having a long go where you're both just fully relaxed and he loves to make sure every cell of your body feels good.

j – jack off (masturbation headcanon)

oh he enjoys jacking off as much as the next guy. he's a busy guy and doesn't have time to be with you as much as he wants to (and maybe if you even live in different countries, it's extra hard). and therefor, his own hand is just the second best thing. esp during a bad race weekend when he just needs to get some of that pent up frustration out. you'll always be there with him though, no matter if it's in the form of a picture, a voice recording, a clip, etc.. and when you've spent a lot of time apart, he loves to have you on the phone with him….

k – kink (one or more of his kinks)

size. seeing you in his oversized clothes would make him go crazy. (size kink headcanons here)

l – location (favorite places to do the do)

anywhere inside the house. in his bed, on the couch, having you sit on the kitchen counter, in the shower, you name it.

i think he would be up for some teasing in public; his hands on your thighs inching up under your dress when you're sitting down for dinner, possibly even letting a finger drag across the soaked fabric of your panties. but i don't think he would want to go any further in public, because he would much rather have a real one at home where he can enjoy the moment fully and not risk anyone else seeing. you're his and only his, after all – he doesn't want anyone else to see you like that.

POSSIBLY in his driver's room if he needs to get off before/after a session. oh, and in hotel rooms during the season, but more about that later… AND OKAY LAST ONE: in his car. yes yes yes.

m – motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)

honestly, whenever you take the first step, it gets him going instantly. if you insinuate that you want to have sex with him, or that you want to try something new, he'll be jumping into bed instantly. he also can't keep his hands to himself whenever you dress up in certain outfits, especially short dresses (no matter if it's a sleek fancy one or a cute summery dress)…

n – no (something he wouldn't do, turn-offs)

he refuses to share you. he's possessive like that; you're his and only his. no threesomes or anything like that, just the thought of you with another man makes him icky. and it's not even like a funny thing, like "oh he gets jealous so easily, haha!". even teasing him by trying to make him jealous is a no-go zone, he doesn't find it amusing at all. he just gets mad and it's a huge turn-off for him. flirt with any of his friends and he will just leave the room.

o – oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

that's all i have to say abt this.

p – pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

like i said before, i think it depends on his mood!! he can be both, depending on how a race weekend has gone or just his general vibe for the day. mostly probably somewhere inbetween though.

q – quickie (his opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

they're definitely a part of the equation, esp during race weekends. a must to get out some of that pent up energy he so often has. makes him relax more (and he says it improves his performance, too. he got like one podium once when you had a quickie before a race and now he insists on them every time he has an important race).

r – risk (is he game to experiment? does he take risks? etc.)

in the bedroom, possibly. i think he would be up to trying new things if you really want to, but personally, he could just as well do what you always do. nothing dangerous or something that could ever hurt you even the slightest, so like even if you're trying bondage it has to be with the softest of silk straps.

outside of the bedroom, nuh uh. especially not out in public. like i said, he doesn't enjoy the risk of you accidentally being seen.

s – stamina (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)

he's a strong guy with good stamina, not sure how well it translates to the bedroom though. surely he can go for a few rounds but i think he's okay with just going all-in into one round instead. it doesn't really matter that much to him.

t – toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)

not a big fan of using them but he likes to watch you use them on yourself :)

u – unfair (how much he likes to tease)

oh, he enjoys teasing you quite a lot. especially with his hands since he knows they make you so weak; showing them off, flexing them, placing them on your thighs, etc. he loves to rile you up, pretending like he isn't sure whether he will give you what you want or not, making you whine and beg for it.

he also loves it when you tease him back. it's hard for him to pretend like your actions make him feel what you want, because he's always looking up at you with a big smile and showing off how much he enjoys it. this connects to what i wrote earlier about him liking when you're in control; you're just too adorable, he can't hold back his grin.

v – volume (how loud he is, what sounds he makes, etc.)

mmmm not too loud but not quiet, i feel? groans and moans a lot but also loves just talking and praising you. i also see him being… maybe just a little whiny……. when he's being teased etc. because as we've discussed on this blog before, i think he has a little submissive streak and just. there are some sounds he can't control.

w – wild card (a random headcanon)

there's just something about doing it in hotel rooms when he's racing that really gets him going. after a while, it's like he's one of pavlov's dogs because just being in a hotel room gets him going. celebratory, fluffy sex after a good race, or rough sex after a bad weekend – it doesn't matter. it's just bound to happen.

x – x-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

gonna let someone else fill in on this because i just can't 😭

y – yearning (how high is his sex drive?)

high, but again not over the top. he doesn't need to get going 24/7 but if he has a gf as hot as you, then it's gonna get high. idk he just sees you and boom, instant boner. doesn't need to act on it every time, but he could if you wanted to.

z – zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterward)

quickly!! a sleepy boy, he needs his beauty rest. quick aftercare, and he'll make sure you're comfortable and good and resting properly on his chest before he lets himself close his eyes. but then it won't take long before he's dozing off…. he puts so much energy into the act that he's completely worn out after it, poor boy.

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