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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

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Find out they have a Child with You

Luffy, Zoro, Corazon

Old men Series <-

Crocodile, Law, Sanji <-

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Luffy

Luffy wasn't exactly known to be the 'Sexuality Active' type- Hell most assumed he was still a virgin by most accounts. That was till you joined the crew..

A childhood friend of Luffy you had always been by his side, and of course jumping at the opportunity to join his crew.

It had been- a open secret if you will, that you and Luffy were together in some way. However everyone assumed it was innocent just like the Captian. You two were young afterall so no one expected anything less- However at night when no one was around you and him shared many nights together. That's how you found out you were pregnant- it was a mistake, this wasn't suppose to happen to you.

You were both too young for this.. too dumb and irresponsible, and you had heard his dreams and goals of being the King of Pirates since you were children- you didn't want to risk stealing his dreams from him... so you did what you thought was best, you ran away.

In the middle of the night you took the lifeboat and disapeared in the east blue water- hoping to never be seen again.

That had been 2 years ago- and your life had never been the same.

"Mama!" You snapped from your deep thoughts to look at your son, Who was happily playing with a toy ship and squealing. He looked too much like Luffy, from the dark head of curls to the bright sunny smile- for a 15 month he was quite a hefty kid and knew quite a few words but his current favorite being-

"Ship!" He said excitedly as he held out the toy for you. You smiled and gently took the toy to look over before handing it back to him.

"I see Aoi, Very nice" You saw sweetly, kneeling down to scoop up the toddler and bring him to your hip.

"You know what day it is! Grocery day!" You said cheerfully making the toddler squeal in joy, you doubted he fully understood you but seeing how he ate you out of house and home you made regular trips to the market with him.

After a short walk outside of your tiny home you made it to the pier market. Filling a basket with one arm and holding Aoi who was squirming like no tomorrow and trying to eat the food you were buying- Having to pay for some food you could rip with your teeth to give to him which he happily eats up. As you are almost done with your shopping a loud voice shouts behind you.

"(Y/N)!" You hear before stretched out hands suddently grab you and pull you back by your waist. A yelp escaping you as you were turned around quickly and met with Non other then Liffy staring at you with a wide smile and holding you up.

You could hear the crew staring at you and the toddler in your arms- Your face starting to turn red as you could hear 'So that why she disapeared?'.. 'Didn't know he had it in him-' .. 'Wait does that mean Luffy and (Y/N) f-' However it was quickly quieted as Zoro scolded them all and insisted they go elsewhere which was guided away by Sanji to God knows where.

Luffy stared at you, then his eyes drifted to the child youbwere holding who was looking around shocked and clearly close to crying. Then back to your face, you knew Luffy could be a bit dense but you saw the recognition immediately as he smiled.

"(Y/N) Wanna come with us to eat?" He asked sweetly, his his gaze following Aoi carefully as the toddler stared back at him. Gulping you nodded softly-

Seemed there was no escaping this one...

Zoro

{ So fun fact! The whole Roronoa family line, their names are based off gambling. Like Zoro's name is based off the Word Pinzoro aka 'Snake Eyes' So his son Koro is based off the word Saikoro aka 'Dice' }

So who knew that you and Zoro's little flings could lead to... unforseen consequences- like the infant who was currently nursing from you.

Being a favorite Bartender had a lot of perks, you got better tips- often the customers were nicer and for your case you often got to spend the night with your favorite customer Roronoa Zoro- whenever he managed to find his way into town you and him often taking a tumble in the bed before departing ways with a goodbye shot and a promise of next time.

Well it seemed the last time Zoro had visited you, both of you got sloppy in your use of protection. Which resulted in the 4 day old currently in your arms- Looking down you couldn't help but be amused by it all.. This defiently wasn't in your plans yet you couldn't be mad either, Falling in love immediately with your son the moment he took his first breaths.

As you sat there in bed, still recovering from the rather harsh birth of your boy you heard a knock on the bedroom door, it cracking as you saw Sumi- a coworker and close friend of yours poke her head in carefully. However you noticed the panic in her face rather quickly and raised a brow.

"Sumi? Is everything okay?"

"Y-Yea but uh- (Y/N).. A uh customer wanted to stop by to see how you wrre doing" Sumi said calmly, you raising a brow at how ridiculous it would be to allow a customer to see you in this state- Prepared to chew her put the door opened and you saw why she had done this... there stood Zoro- hands to his sides as he stared at you, still lying in bed with the baby in your arms.

Sumi knew who the father of your son was- which is why you assumed she did this.. suppressing your anger you nodded for Zoro to enter. He walked to your bedside and stood next to the bed- Sumi quickly leaving.

Silence fell over both of you as Zoro stared at the child in your arms. His gaze calculating the last time he saw you before stepping forward, you didn't move as he carefully pulled reached a hand forward and pulled the blanket down that covered the babies face. He only had to look for a second to see the tuff of green hair and his prominent features poke through.

Silence fell again as he pulled his hand away.

"Is it a boy or Girl?.. Whats their name?" He questioned Zoro taking a breath as he clearly tried to keep his composure. His mind clearly traveling a mild a second before closing his eyes..

"A boy.. His name is Koro-" You said calmly. He nodded clearly favoring the name.

"Roronoa Koro....He is clearly mine- in that case You can't stay here then-" He said eventually, your eyes widening in shock at his words as you held Koro closer to you. Your eyes narrowing in warning, as he reached forward again to look at the Infant.

"What do you mean by that" You question sharply, assuming he was going to propose you go on the ship he lived on- which you wouldn't allow a baby on a damn pirate ship.

"Shimotsuki Village.. In the east blue, it is were I was born and raided.. I think it would be safer for you there. I can send money so you and Koro will be more then safe" He insisted- this actually surprising you as you saw the seriousness in his gaze.

"I will also marry you" He stated calmly, looking around frantically as the air froze in your lungs.

"What!?"

Corazon

It had been the first time in many years you hadn't felt shame.. truthfully you had been in a bad place before you had your daughter. A call girl for Doflamingo and his brother Corazon.

You and Corazon actually dating for a brief time and spending nights together, but the violence of that world always made the relationship bittersweet and unfullfilling. Till you found out you were pregnant, you had wanted to keep it under wraps but when a girl who truthfully hated you found out by you being sick in the bathroom immediately told Doflamingo-

Confronting you in private where you were sure you'd meet your end. Till he made sure to confirm the child was Corazon's.. which you admitted to and he forces you to leave- Kicking you out of the village and demanding you disapear before the sunset or else he would make sure no one ever found you.

So you packed everything in a panic and ran- Ran for your own life and your baby. While sad that Corazon would never know what happened to you or his child.. you figured it would be the best.

So you escaped to another village, not far from the place you once called home and started a new. Working in a restaurant you saved money for a small home and supplies for your child. It had been hard but worth it- Especially when you gave birth to your daughter.

Speaking of which-

Pulling from your memories to check on your 3 month old daughter, seeing her fast asleep in her crib as you set to finish dinner for yourself. Humming as you finish chopping vegetables you nearly jump from your skin when you heard a loud knock on the door- Knowing damn well it woke up your child but you rush over anyway to see. Opening the door you see a looming figure blocking the moonlight to you completely and a familiar smell of cigarettes filled your lungs.

"We are here looki- (Y/N)?" You freeze as you immediately recognize that voice, fear striking your heart as Corazon stared at you with genuine surprise stepped back and looked at you fully in confusion.

"What are you doing here Corazon?" You say calmly, Watching how his eyes swirled with questions at the sight pf you. Most likely noticing something was off by your appearance from when you last saw you.

"I should be asking you the same... after all you did walk out" He pointed out- but before you could speak you hear your daughter cry out and you wince. His gaze following you as all you could do was step to the side to let him in.. it seemed easier this way- He walked in fully forgetting his task at him as he marched straight to the noise.

He looked over the crib, taking in the fussy baby girl- how her face strunched up as she whimpered at the air.. Corazon seeing her features noting their similarities needing only to glance back at you once to see you nod.. The confirmation almost seemingly to knock him back before he carefully scoopedbup the little girl and held her close.

"Whats her name?"

"Dulce- Her name is Dulce" You say softly, Corazon smiling at hearing this- chuckling as he gently touched the cheek of his daughter.

"I like it- So this is why you left? If you had told me I would have been thrilled (Y/N)-" You shake your head at this.

"I wanted to tell you but couldnt... it wasn't my choice to leave. It was leave or die" You stress, and Corazon seems to connect the dots instantly. Doflamingo. He slowly hands Dulce to you and nods.

"Im sorry... But I want you to know.. I have a mission to complete- But I promise I will return and we will raise her together" He said calmly, Kissing your cheek and Dulce's who cooed softly and shifted in her sleep.

He smiled at this as he slowly and hesitantly headed for the door, clearly not wanting to leave but forcing himself to anyway for your safety and your guys daughter.

You watched him leave that night, the smell of tobacco still in the air as you held your daughter close- the warmth of his kiss still hanging onto you while you felt your heart sink.

You didn't know that this would be the last time you saw him... that your daughter would grow up never knowing her father.

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #zoro headcanons #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x y/n #monkey d. luffy x reader #luffy x reader #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #monkey d. luffy #corazon #corazon x reader #op corazon #one piece corazon #donquixote rosinante #donquixote corazon #donquixote family

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ellemj · 6 months

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Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 5

Bucky Barnes x Reader

**Read part 1, part 2, part 3, and part 4 first for the full effect.**

Summary: As the night drags on, Bucky continues helping you through the peak activity of the chemical compound that you were both exposed to.

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex, oral sex, profanity, sex pollen (dubcon), near-somnophilia, dry humping, praise, possessive!Bucky, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for helping with the warnings <3

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires more warnings.

Word Count: 3.6k

Author's Note: I'm living for y'alls reactions to this series over the last few days. Thank you all SOOO much for the continued support and unbelievably kind words. I hope this part does something for you all, hehe. Also, I apologize for any errors you may find. I only proofread it once and I kinda half-assed it. I hate proofreading my own work.

After sleeping the longest stretch so far tonight, you wake up at 2 am with excessively sore legs and a dire need to pee. You debate for a moment whether or not it’s smart to get up, taking into account how unstable you feel as soon as you push the covers back and seat yourself on the edge of the bed. You’re beginning to realize that maybe 75% of your pain and soreness is from the chemical that’s still working in your system, while the other 25% is from having sex with a super soldier. You peek over your shoulder at the man who lays on the other side of the bed, sleeping soundly with his lips parted the tiniest bit. Something stirs deep in the pit of your stomach when you look at him. That’s new. You brush it off as being another onslaught of arousal that you’re going to be experiencing against your will. You lean over and retrieve your panties from the floor, sliding them up your legs silently. You’re sure that they’ll just end up right back on the floor, but with two loads of cum having been thoroughly fucked into you in the last few hours, you don’t want to risk anything dripping down your leg on your trek to the bathroom.

You move slowly, pushing yourself up to a standing position and steadying yourself with a hand on the bedside table before making your way to the door. As you reach the threshold, the pain in your legs intensifies to a much less bearable level and you freeze, your right hand raising up to grip the door frame for support. You just need to make it ten feet down the hall and into the bathroom and you’ll be fine. Of course, it’s not going to go that easily for you. Has anything gone according to plan tonight? No. You hear Bucky stir behind you, the covers rustling as he awakes.

“Where are you going?” His sleepy voice tugs at you, making you look over your shoulder again. He’s propped up on one elbow now, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and then narrowing them in your direction.

“I have to pee. I didn’t mean to wake you.” You whisper. Why are you whispering? You’re the only two people in this house and you’re both awake now. Maybe it’s the darkness of the house making you feel like it’s supposed to be quiet hours.

“Why are you holding onto the door frame?” He questions. It takes him less than two seconds to figure out the scene in front of him. He doesn’t know why you have to be so stubborn and insistent on doing shit yourself all the time. You’re no different in the field. Before you can answer him, he’s climbing out of bed and slipping his boxers back on. You close your eyes and sigh, not even needing to look back to know what he’s doing. Suddenly, you feel the warmth radiating off of his body behind you, then his flesh hand lands on your lower back.

“I’m not completely useless, James.” You mutter, letting go of the door frame and taking a step forward. The pain in your thighs makes you feel as though your legs might give out with just that one step. You suck in a harsh breath and freeze for a second time.

“Right.” If you weren’t so focused on keeping your balance and fighting back tears of agony, you’d have already shoved him away from you. He keeps his hand on your lower back, not daring to scoop you up and carry you to the bathroom like he wants to. Instead, he lets you move at your own pace down the hall. As slow as a fucking turtle. James. You’ve never called him that before. Maybe putting his dog tags around your neck reminded you that he’s called things other than just Bucky, or Barnes, or ass. He takes that as you being one step closer to giving him what he wants most tonight.

Once you finally reach the bathroom door, he lets you step inside alone. But as soon as you move to shut the door between the two of you, he stops it with his vibranium hand.

“The door stays open.” His tone is no different than the one that you hear him use so often in the field, the one that he uses when he thinks he can give you orders like the sergeant he is. It’s never worked on you before and it sure as hell won’t now.

“I’m not letting you watch me pee.” You argue, trying to push the door closed again. Your efforts are fruitless, no match for his strength and his determination to keep the door open.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I don’t want to watch. I’m going to stand out here and wait, but I don’t feel like busting down the damn door if you fall.” You almost laugh. Not wanting him to see the small smile that’s beginning to turn up the corners of your mouth, you give in and turn around, heading over to the toilet. As you face the door once more, you watch Bucky step to the side so he’s just behind the wall, giving you the tiniest bit of privacy. You relieve yourself quickly, but as you’re standing up and pulling your panties back into place, a fresh wave of stinging pain travels down your spine, making you lurch forward and grab onto the edge of the sink for support. Bucky hears your hands land on the hard granite and he hears the way your breathing quickly changes from its usual calm rhythm to a quickened rhythm of discomfort. He wastes no time stepping into the small bathroom, placing himself behind you and looking at you in the mirror.

“What is it?” He asks, looking you over with a worried expression. Normally that worried expression would annoy you out in the field. He gets the same look when you come to the end of a firefight and he isn’t sure if you’re injured or not, or when you haven’t been responding on comms. It’s always made you feel like he thinks you can’t handle yourself. So, why now do you feel cared for?

“Just the same shit we’ve been dealing with all night.” You answer after taking in a deep, shaky breath. Unexpectedly, his hands end up on your hips. You’re starting to get used to him doing that. Instead of his touch giving you at least some minimal relief, your pain doesn’t subside. You wonder if maybe it’s because he’s touching you over your t-shirt. Maybe skin-to-skin contact is what you need right now. “Touch me.” Your words come out as a whisper, your eyes meeting his in the reflection of the mirror. Something flashes in his eyes, something that you think must be surprise at your request. Of course you’d write it off as that. It was actually a flash of desire, as your words immediately sent all of the blood in his body rushing straight to his dick. He knows that you only asked him to touch your skin, without any ulterior motives. He knows that. It’s his dick that doesn’t get the memo. He places his flesh palm across the middle of your back, pushing you forward gently until you’re bent over the sink. Adrenaline begins coursing through your veins and anticipation warms your core. You didn’t know how much you needed this again. He fingers the hem of your shirt, stealing one more look at you in the mirror before slowly sliding it up your back. As soon as your black panties are revealed to him, he lets out a barely audible groan. He closes his eyes for a second, gathering himself, before pushing your shirt up further until it rests near your shoulders. He lets his hands run down your back now, his flesh hand warm and soft and his vibranium hand cool and soothing. You feel the stinging pain along your spine easing in the slightest as you close your eyes and lean into his touch.

“Where does it hurt?” As he bends his upper body over yours, you feel his bare torso making contact with your back, his crotch so close to pressing against your ass. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks in the most tender yet sexually-charged tone you’ve ever heard fall from a man’s mouth.

“My back.” You answer him promptly, the pain evident in your voice. You’re ready for whatever it is that he might do to help you. As much as you hate to say it, you’re looking forward to whatever he might do. He slides his hands up your back again, before dragging them back down just like he did before. It’s not enough for you. You wonder if it’s enough for him, and the easiest way to get an answer to your question is to arch your back a little and push your ass back against him. You feel the hard outline of his cock line up with your ass and you can’t help the giggle that sneaks past your lips. Infuriating. He finds you fucking infuriating.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice is tense and you note the way the muscle along the side of his jaw is flexed. He’s quick to grip your waist, holding you still against the edge of the sink. His gaze narrows at you in the mirror and you think he looks almost bothered, but a little voice in the back of your head is screaming at you to test the waters.

“Hmm?” You grind your ass back again, expecting him to stop you by utilizing his hold on your waist, but he simply looks down at your ass as it rubs against his boner. You can’t read his face now. Is he bothered? Turned on? Does he want to fuck again? Bucky can barely even read himself. His cock is as hard as it’s been every other time you’ve been this close to him tonight, but within his mind, he’s warring with himself. He held himself back both of the previous times that you had sex. He was careful, diluting the strength and intensity with which he fucked you. He still fully enjoyed it, in fact, it was the best sex he’s ever had. But he was scared he’d hurt you, or even worse, that he’d get so lost chasing his own relief that he wouldn’t even notice he was practically using you.

He lets you continue your ministrations for a few seconds, watching intently as you grind against him, your back arched and your hair cascading over your shoulder. You’re so damn pretty like this that it hurts him to look at you for too long. Especially when he’s not currently inside you. He could probably stand to look at you longer if he was buried deep inside of you.

An idea crosses his mind. Something that he hadn’t been clear-minded enough to think about either of the other two times that you had sex tonight. He wants to taste you.

First, he’s going to make you scream his name while he draws an orgasm from you with only his mouth and fingers, and then he’s going to make you moan his name while he fucks your pussy.

“You know, you’ve been such a good girl tonight.” Oh my god. He did not just call you that. Bucky fucking Barnes did not just call you a good girl while his hard-on is pressed against your ass. The movement of your hips falters, but he watches as your cheeks begin to burn pink in the mirror and your eyes widen at his words. He’s found a weakness of yours.

You feel his fingertips slide beneath the waistband of your panties, slipping them down your legs in one deft movement. You kick them off to the side and you don’t miss the smug smile painted across his face while he watches you comply so readily. His foot moves between yours now, nudging them further apart. You fully expect him to strip off his own boxers and fuck you next. Instead, he leans forward, placing a soft kiss on your left shoulder, then your right shoulder, and then he ghosts his lips all the way down your spine. A chill runs through your body, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. What the hell is he doing? You can’t even form the words to question him, especially not when his hands begin kneading your ass as he gets down on his knees behind you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You steal his last question, but your voice is far more shaky and unsure than his was. Suddenly, his hands spread your ass cheeks apart and he circles the tip of his tongue over your clit. “OH MY GOD,” you cry out, completely powerless to do anything other than grip the edge of the sink and scrunch your eyes closed, your back arching even more than it was before.

“Hmm?” The sound he makes causes vibrations to run through his tongue and straight to your clit, drawing another loud moan from you. You can’t think of a single thing to say, you can’t think at all really. He eats you out like it’s the sole cure for the damn chemical that he inhaled earlier tonight. He focuses his mouth on your clit, switching between licking and sucking at it, memorizing the way you taste. You’re seeing stars less than thirty seconds after he sunk down to his knees. Bucky. His name is the only thing in your brain. You bite down on your bottom lip with a bruising force. As you fight to hold back from moaning his name, your right hand reaches up and grasps the dog tags around your neck, running your thumb over the inscription as he pleasures you with his mouth. James B Barnes. You feel yourself getting undeniably close to your orgasm, and he must realize it because he only increases his efforts.

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” He taunts, reaching up and rubbing circles against your clit with his fingers as he waits for your response. You nod, but knowing he can’t see you from his current position between your legs, you choke out a breathy answer.

“I’m so fucking close, J—” You cut yourself off abruptly before you slip up and say his name.

“What was that on the end there? Go on, say it.” He eggs you on, pride flaring in his chest at the fact that you almost said his first name. He was so close to hearing it. You shake your head, more to yourself than him, refusing to open your mouth again. “I thought you were going to be a good girl for me, Y/n.” You hear him tsk beneath you and you fear he’s going to stop everything. That is, until you feel his mouth attach to your clit once more and then…

“JAMES!” You scream his name so loud that you’re sure any enemy surveillance within a three-mile radius heard you. You couldn’t help it, you didn’t even think about it as it left your lips. He plunged two fingers into you without warning and curled them, all while flattening his tongue against your clit and giving you the most perfect, wet friction there.

You screamed his fucking name.

Bucky was full of pride and possessiveness, and so unbelievably horny. He put everything he had into drawing an orgasm out of you with his mouth and fingers, and in the end, he had you cumming so hard that you were grinding into his mouth with your left hand behind you, gripping onto his hair. You screamed his name a total of three times before your shaking legs threatened to send you tumbling to the floor, and Bucky couldn’t stand not being inside of you anymore.

That brings you to where you are now: bent over the bathroom sink with Bucky thrusting his cock into you from behind. His right hand is fisting your hair at the back of your head, making sure you can’t move to look at anything other than the reflection of him fucking the shit out of you. It’s as if a damn broke when you screamed his name the first time and now his name falls from your lips repeatedly as you moan and meet each of his thrusts, desperately chasing your second orgasm. He nearly comes undone when he hears a soft Bucky, please under your breath.

“That’s it, Y/n, say my fucking name.” He groans out, his hips snapping into you a little harder as you make eye contact with him in the mirror. Your eyes are begging him to let you cum. “You wanna cum on my cock, don’t you?” He goads, that familiar, frustrating smirk taking over his features. You nod your head as he fucks into you roughly, the sounds of his skin pounding against yours only making you wetter around his cock.

“Please, please Bucky. I need to cum.” You beg. You beg. Shit, he’s going to lose it. A deep, guttural groan is ripped from his throat as his head falls back and he moves his hands to your hips, his fingertips digging into your skin and definitely leaving bruises behind.

“Go ahead, cum for me.” He commands, rutting into you and hitting just the right spot to send you careening over the edge. Your orgasm washes over you and sends butterflies from your stomach, down to your pussy. You clench around him so hard that his own orgasm lurches forward. “Shit, just like that, baby, take it.” He lets go inside you, filling you up with more cum than the last two rounds combined. There’s so much cum that you can feel it dripping down his shaft as he continues to slowly fuck his hard cock into you. You’re so close to begging him not to pull out. You want to ask him to just stay here like this, to let you memorize what it’s like to have him inside of you like this. You’re falling off the deep end.

---

“Shh, I wasn’t going to wake you.” Bucky whispers against the side of your neck. You blink the sleep from your eyes, trying to remember where you are. You’re wide awake once you feel the head of his cock slipping past your folds and sliding halfway inside you.

“Bucky…” You whimper at the unexpected penetration, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in. Your entrance is so sore from the three other times that you’ve fucked tonight. The feel of his cock sliding in and out of you at a gentle, steady pace grounds you. He’s spoon-fucking you in bed. You both crashed after he took you from behind in the bathroom earlier, and instead of you being the first one to wake up this time, it was him. He woke up so hard and desperate to feel you again. He wanted to let you sleep as long as you possibly could, especially when you looked so comfortable and peaceful in bed next to him, but he needed to hear you say his name again. He fucks you so slowly and tenderly that you can feel every single inch of him as he takes his time with you. You lean back into him, hooking your left leg back and over his legs as he continues his work. He takes your change of position as a go-ahead and his vibranium hand travels up your side, slipping underneath your shirt and grasping one of your tits. Fuck. He hasn’t touched you there before. You moan as he does what he wants with your body, each of your orgasms building up at a leisurely pace. Something about the way he’s fucking you this time feels so much more intimate, so much more like making love. You know you should hate it. You should want to go back to the rough, near hate-sex you were having earlier tonight, but you can’t find it within yourself to change a damn thing.

“You’re so perfect…” Bucky whimpers in your ear. He attaches his lips to the skin just below your ear. You feel his tongue on your skin, licking and then sucking far too gently to leave any visible mark. He wants to mark you up. God, he wants to mark you up. But he knows better than to let anyone find out about any of this. While Bucky is busy reminding himself not to leave any visible marks on your skin, you’re seconds away from giving him the only other thing he wanted tonight. He keeps massaging your neck, the curve of your jaw, and the shell of your ear with his lips and tongue. Without a single thought in your mind, you turn your head to him and press your lips against his. Every muscle in his body freezes, but you feel his cock twitch inside of you. You know you shouldn’t have done it, but now that you’re doing it, you can’t stop. You kiss him harder, sucking on his bottom lip and moaning against him. Bucky thinks he could cum just from this, from being inside you completely still while you kiss him. He wastes no time now, his vibranium hand tilting your chin up for him and giving him a good angle to slip his tongue into your mouth.

Fuck.

Your mouth tastes as good as your cunt.

Next Part

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes smut

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bella-rose29 · 4 months

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Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 8

from here on out this series is just going to be Lockwood and reader bonding and being annoyingly good together while coming up with steadily more ridiculous ways to piss off the bitchy cousin bc she's trying to get revenge

with that said lockwood does have a brief sad moment :(

Word count: 7.1k

Warnings: swearing, references to sex (both mild and slightly less mild), sleepy lockwood, he can't talk properly when sleepy, the whole morning thing is just what I want to happen in my own life tbh, Steph (the Bitch), lockwood remembers his childhood (might make you sad), brief mentions of murder?? hypothetical murder though (that will make sense I promise), a really intense snowball fight, (can you tell I'm an archaeology student from the way I describe building forts and mud huts?), lockwood gives all the teams in the snowball fight names and they are very basic but I love them

That night when Y/n and Anthony went to bed, they stood staring awkwardly at the bed for five minutes.

"Well that armchair can't be comfortable," Y/n said, glancing sceptically at it. She wasn't sure where Anthony had slept the night before after their argument, or even if he'd slept at all, but she didn't feel right about taking the whole bed for herself anymore now that their situation had changed.

She would do it if he insisted, of course, but there would be a very tiny part of her brain telling her to be the better person. It was unlikely that she'd listen to it.

"I got used to it, and I've slept in worse places. You take the bed again. The bath surely couldn't have been nice to sleep in."

"It was actually a lot more comfortable than you'd think." They kept on looking at the bed, both in their pyjamas (Y/n had stolen one of Anthony's t-shirts already, and when she'd first walked out of the bathroom in it he'd kissed her for a good few minutes in a way that left them both breathless). "Maybe... maybe we could share? I don't know if that's too soon or anything but honestly if we've been supposedly dating since April then I think we're way past that."

"If you're happy with it then I am, darling."

"Alright. I'm having this side though." A couple of minutes later the two of them were under the covers and settled in, and Y/n reached over to turn off her bedside lamp. The room was immediately shrouded in darkness, and suddenly it felt a lot colder than before, despite the fact she was buried under the duvet. "Ant?"

"Yeah?"

"... Can I move a bit closer to you? I'm cold." She didn't get a verbal response, instead receiving the sounds of the sheets crumpling and a body shifting, and a few seconds later Anthony's warmth was surrounding her as he took her into his arms and laid her on top of him. She tangled their legs together and wrapped an arm around his torso, and he brought both of his arms around her to secure her in place.

"Is that better?" he asked, and from where her head was resting on his chest she nodded.

"Much better. Thank you."

Her breathing evened out not long after, and she fell asleep to the slightly faster than usual beating of Anthony's heart.

~~~

When morning came (or rather when the sun finally rose over the horizon, since it was just after 8 AM), Y/n woke up and tried to turn over to stretch, but found that her movements were restricted by a weight on her side.

An investigation of what was happening lead to the discovery that Anthony was now lying on top of her instead of the other way around like they had been when they went to sleep, and that was why she couldn't turn over. She went to shift him off of her, but as she went to move him she caught a glimpse of his face and realised that he looked so peaceful asleep she might just let him stay that way. He barely got enough sleep as it was, so why cut it short when he was finally getting some rest? God knew he needed it with how hard he worked to keep the company going, although that had been much easier in the past year as they had gained more popularity among the people of England (their name had been spread far and wide by happy clients).

He wasn't entirely on top of her, more lying on his stomach next to her while he rested his head on her shoulder and spread his arm out over her middle, but the weight was enough that movement was restricted. A light knock sounded from the door, making Y/n look away from her new boyfriend's face to see who it was. For some reason fear gripped her as the handle turned, but when the door opened a few seconds later to reveal her father she let out a sigh of relief. She had been worried that Stephanie was starting her research into how she was going to get her revenge already, but Y/n's cousin was almost certainly still asleep at this hour.

"Just got some tea," he whispered after Y/n put her finger to her lips, pointing down at the still-sleeping Anthony. "Where should I put it? Just here? Alright, there you go. I think we're all just going to lie in bed for as long as we think we can get away with, so don't worry about coming downstairs yet if you don't want to."

"Thanks, Dad." He crept back out the room, wincing slightly when the door hinges protested as he pulled it shut, and then he was padding down the hallway back to his own room. Soft sounds from just below her head made Y/n look down at Anthony, who had apparently been woken by the door closing. He rubbed at his eyes, blinking furiously as he attempted to properly shake himself awake, and pushed himself up a little to sleepily smile down at her.

"Morning, darling," he murmured, dropping his head to press a small kiss to her lips. "D'ya sleep alright?"

"Mmhm. Did you?" Anthony only nodded in response, eyes drifting shut every few seconds as he tried to stay conscious long enough to hold a conversation with her.

"You can go back to sleep if you want, although Dad just brought tea in if you want it."

"Ooh, that would be brilliant. D'ya want me to pour it?" Y/n stifled a giggle at his slightly slurred speech, and starting to move into a sitting position.

"Don't worry, Ant. I've got it." She poured out the water, making sure to add the honey and sugar to his at the right times, then carefully handed over the mug. "Have you got a proper hold on it? Because if you spill tea in bed then I might have to kill you."

"I can't spill tea? But how else are you meant to know that George and Flo have definitely fuc-" he was cut off when Y/n hurriedly reached out to steady his mug, the liquid inside nearly sloshing over the edge as he had been leaning in in a conspiratorial manner, forgetting he was holding a large cup of steaming hot liquid in one hand.

"Anthony! Watch what you're doing!"

"Sorry," he said, faint blush coming on to his cheeks as she scolded him. "Was jus' trying to make a joke. Although what I said about Flo and George wasn't a joke." He made a point to look her in the eyes with as much seriousness he could muster, as though it were of the utmost importance that she knew all about her colleague's sex life.

"Alright, thank you for that," she responded, making sure her tone was gentle, and when he smiled dopily she felt her heart skip a beat or two.

How the hell is he so pretty?

"You're pretty too, darling." His smile had turned smug, and she realised with a start that she'd said her previous thought out loud. Her face started heating up, and Anthony did a good job of hiding his laughter were it not for the amusement dancing in his eyes as he sipped his tea.

"Shut up," she mumbled, wanting to jab him in the side but not trusting his capabilities of holding his tea steady this early in the morning.

~~~

"Good morning, lovebirds!" Will chirped when Y/n and Anthony walked into the kitchen, and he sent a smirk their way from where he stood at the hob frying eggs. "Sleep alright?" He seemed to be asking something else though from the way his eyebrows were moving.

"Is... he okay?" he whispered instead, leaning down slightly to reach Y/n's ear.

"I talked to him in the library yesterday. After... you know."

"Ah. Right." After they had argued and then made up and then made out. "Does that mean he's up to date then?"

"Yep."

So Will knew about all of that. This could be interesting.

"They must have slept fine," Ben started, pulling out the toast that had popped and putting in more slices. "Y/n looked like she'd only just woken up when I went in with tea, and Anthony was fast asleep."

Anthony felt a blush rise up his neck and cover his face at the realisation that Ben had seen him draped over his eldest daughter, but the fond smile that appeared on Y/n's face made it worthwhile. She was wearing one of his jumpers again (she had really leaned into the habits of being his girlfriend already, which meant that many of his t-shirts and jumpers were suspiciously not in the drawers he had originally put them in), and was cosying up to his side as he leaned back against the kitchen island.

Y/n looked like she was about to say something, but at the exact moment she opened her mouth another voice was already filling the room.

"Morning everybody! How are we all today? Isn't the snow just gorgeous?"

Emma grimaced slightly before she turned around, sharing a glance with Anthony before greeting her niece. "It is, Stephanie. I take it you slept alright?"

"Oh yes, thank you!" She was weirdly chipper for somebody who had been acting like a raving lunatic the night before, and Anthony couldn't help but feel unease creep up his spine at her wide grin.

What was she up to?

"Hello, you two! Are you looking forward to going out in the snow later? I shall have to drag you out, Y/n/n, since you hate going outside!" Anthony frowned. Y/n wasn't the biggest fan of the outdoors, but whenever they gained even the slightest amount of snow she was out of the house in a flash, laughing and spinning around the street while it fell. Anthony had always accompanied her, giving the excuse that he wanted to be nearby if she tripped and fell so he could laugh (to which Lucy, George, and Holly had looked at him dubiously).

But really it was because it had been so long since he had seen anyone so carefree.

He had loved the snow as a little kid, running around trying to catch the snowflakes on his tongue, building snowmen, making snow angels, having snowball fights with his family.

Then he had been on his own, and suddenly the snow was no longer a source of warmth for him. He had looked at the roads paved in white and felt as cold as the outside air, good memories being brought up and tainted the longer he stared at it.

He could see where he had set up a fort in defence against his father and sister's attack, crouching behind the wall with his mother while they laughed so hard their sides hurt.

He could see where the four of them had laid down in the thick snow, spreading out their arms and legs and sweeping them back and forth, back and forth. Jess had deliberately laid down close to him so they could hit each other playfully.

He could see where he and Jess had made their snowman (although they called it a snow ghost), carefully picking through the undergrowth to find the perfect stones that were just right for the features.

He could see all of that when he saw snow, and eventually he had stopped looking.

But then Y/n had come along, bright and burning, and when she had experienced her first snowfall at 35 Portland Row she had shrieked with joy. Within moments she had shrugged on her thick coat and boots, hat haphazardly shoved on her head and gloves neglected as she shot out the front door, and the other members of the agency were left behind to wonder what on earth was happening.

The other three were quick to follow, leaving Lockwood inside to watch from behind the glass barrier, and for the first time in years he looked outside and saw the snow.

He also saw Y/n fall on her ass incredibly dramatically, and immediately good memories were being created again.

It took him another year to actually go outside in the snow again, and by this point he was deeply entrenched in the hating game that he had with Y/n that he used his excuse of wanting to see her fall over.

He didn't admit to himself for a while that the real reason he was in the cold with her was to make sure that she didn't fall over too hard, or get knocked over by a car that hadn't realised anyone would be on the road (really, why couldn't she have gone in the back garden?), or even because being outside when she was this happy was making him forget that he couldn't feel various parts of his body due to the biting air.

So hearing Steph say that she was going to have to drag Y/n, the girl who loved snow, outside into the snow, didn't make sense to Anthony. He glanced at Y/n where she was stood at his side and realised that she had told her family she didn't enjoy the snow, because there was nothing on her face that said she was confused like he was.

He really hoped they could leave this place soon, because while Y/n's parents and siblings were wonderful, her aunt (who had been sat in the corner sneering at the couple) and her cousin were not. The constant remarks about Y/n's body, how she acted, how she ate, her job, her life, what she enjoyed doing and what she didn't, it can't have been healthy for her to grow up with those comments, and apparently Y/n had been lying to them about herself to get some of it to stop. Anthony suddenly felt even more awful for the things that he had said over the years, and he dropped his head to meet the top of Y/n's to press a kiss there. She looked up in surprise, a question on her face, and he only shook his head and laced their hands together.

He wasn't going to hurt her again, not now that he had a chance with her. And if anyone else hurt her? Well, he would just have to ask which one of them was picking up the shovel, and who was taking the body bag.

~~~

After breakfast everybody wrapped up as warmly as they could and headed out into the snow. It really was insane how much snow they had had, given it was England and they were unused to the sort of snow they saw described in other parts of the world. Anthony had grabbed Y/n's hand after Stephanie tried to get there first, and when she had tried again to be the one accompanying Y/n outside he pulled her out the front door where John and Sam had started clearing a path.

"Ant, slow down! You're gonna pull my arm out of its socket!"

"You'll be fine. I'll give you CPR."

"Ant, you can't give me CPR to fix my arm not being attached to my body anymore."

"Oh. Well I might as well do it anyway, just in case it does help." He was tugged backwards when Y/n came to a stop behind him, and turning around he realised they had travelled quite far from the house.

"Anthony."

"Yes, my darling?"

"Do you just want to give me CPR because it gives you an excuse to kiss me?" He tried not to blush too hard at how quickly she had figured out his ulterior motive, but recovered just as fast with a smug smile.

"I don't need an excuse, darling. I just need to know you consent." She pushed forward, hand still linked with his, and planted a kiss on his mouth.

"Unless I physically assault you, Anthony, then consider me always consenting to you kissing me."

"Perfect."

He kissed her again, trying not to smile too much since it stopped them from kissing more, and wrapped both arms around her waist. She was smiling too, her cold nose pressing into his, and she let out a joyful shriek when he suddenly bent slightly and picked her up off the ground, twirling her while not ever taking his lips off of hers. When he finally put her down again he sighed in content, resting his forehead against hers and just revelling in the knowledge that they had worked through it all, and he was happy.

Then a snowball hit them square in the face, and he was spluttering while Y/n looked for the source.

"That's enough kissing, love birds! You can do that later!"

"Will." Y/n's eyes narrowed and the smile on her face was downright wolfish, and Anthony desperately hoped that she considered him a team mate or he was going to get pulverised.

"Darling, can I just ask, is it the two of us against your brother?"

"It's the two of us against them all, Ant." He knew she meant all of her family, but he couldn't help but think that she meant that it was the two of them together against the world, too. "Oh! You've never had a snowball fight with us before, have you? Basically instead of a kill-or-be-killed scenario, we combine it with capture the flag. Nana Jean has a collection of items that she gives each team, and you have two hours to build a fort and any defences you want. Then when Nana Jean says go, you've gotta get all the items in your fort, and then get all the way to Nana Jean on the front porch. It's very important that you get all the items in the fort first, because otherwise you get accused of cheating and get disqualified. Ultimately, though, nobody can trust anybody, but everyone always tries to get Steph and Linda because nobody likes them."

"So... if we can't trust anyone...?" He left the rest of his question in the air, but luckily she knew what he meant.

"Don't worry, I'll pair with you. Normally I'm with Olivia, 'cause we're meant to be in pairs, but my brothers never care about that rule. Mum'll throw at anyone, and so will Dad, my grandparents are on the porch watching from their chairs, so they'll get some good photos I imagine, Olivia is far too busy trying to look good all the time, and we need to duck!" She grabbed the front of his coat and yanked him towards the ground just as a large chunk of snow sailed through the air where their heads had just been. "Right. We need to start making some sort of defence, which shouldn't be too difficult because of how much snow there is, and then we need to start making weapons, because Nana Jean has obviously just started the timer for two hours building. Sabotage is also allowed during this time." It was both terrifying and weirdly attractive how quickly she was getting into the spirit of an all-out snow war, and within seconds Anthony found himself being put to work building walls.

He had done a similar thing with his family.

London never really had that much snow on the ground at any one time because of all the people and cars that needed to move around, and since agents still had to go out at night the roads and pathways were mostly clear to prevent any unnecessary deaths or accidents. One year, though, there had been too much snow for people to shift enough of it in one day ready for the night, and weather officials had said that temperatures would be rising anyway and the snow would melt in a couple of days. Anthony's parents had woken him early (back when he slept without an issue) and pointed out his window at the snow, and he had been so excited he had gone and jumped on Jess' bed, not caring when she swatted at him with a pillow. The four of them had then spent the day building forts in the back garden and getting their defences ready, and he and his mother had tried planning their walls strategically for the best possible advantage.

"You can't just put it all on top like that, you need to build it a bit like an igloo, or a mud hut. And make sure you've got the proper dense snow, not this superficial flaky stuff. Add some sticks and rocks and things for a bit of integrity, and pack the snow around it. That's it!"

His parents had taken fort building seriously, no matter what the material they were using was. Pillow forts were always complex too, but when finished Anthony had a castle to be king of.

"What are you doing?" Y/n asked, pulling him out of his memories. He'd been crouched down behind a bench that was in their front garden, clumping bits of undergrowth together and starting to build up the walls.

"You need to add sticks and rocks and things for integrity," he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Oh. That makes sense I guess. Can you-" she stopped herself for a moment to hurl a hastily made snowball at someone, and Anthony made a mental note to get her to teach George how to throw when he heard a yelp from somewhere in the garden and a cheer from Y/n. "Sorry, needed to get John. Can you like, show me what you're doing? Then we can both do it and get these walls up faster. I really think it's unfair that Will, John and Sam always team up because they all play fucking rugby, so their walls are basically done already."

"True, but we fight ghosts, darling. We know better than anyone how to win a fight, because if we lose, we quite literally die. Here, take some of this," he said, placing some of the stones he had found in her outstretched hands. "Stack them up a little bit, like I've done, yeah, that's good. Then take a whole load of snow and pack it around. It makes it a lot stronger."

"Where did you even learn how to do this? You literally never join in when we have snowball fights back home." His hands slipped when he realised that she had called Portland Row home, but he quickly recovered.

"My mother."

"Oh. Ant, I'm-"

"Don't. Don't say you're sorry. It's... it's nice, actually. Remembering her. Sad, because she's gone, but nice." He could feel Y/n watching him and he cleared his throat. "I don't know if you were in London when we had that last big snowstorm, but there was about this much of it. My parents took me and Jess outside all day and we built forts in the back garden, and then had a snowball fight. It was me and Mum against Jess and Dad. We won, of course. Mum had a really good throwing arm and Jess was complaining about the cold." He smiled at the memory of his sister's squeals when he had snuck up behind her and stuck snow down the back of her coat, running away with a gleeful laugh. An idea struck him then, and he sat up a little. "I've just had a brilliant idea on how we can piss off Steph," he said, and Y/n mirrored the shark-like smile he had on his face.

~~~

Around an hour later, pretty much everybody's forts were complete.

Will, John and Sam had taken Tom into their team (to which Y/n had complained further, since it was meant to be a pairs team situation) and their fort was huge, with walls that took up an entire corner of the garden. Steph and Linda had a pathetic looking fort since neither of them wanted cold hands or to touch the snow, but it was good enough to provide a small amount of protection for now. Emma and Ben's fort was surprisingly decent, and they had added a little turret on one side just for fun.

Then there was Anthony and Y/n's.

"What is that meant to be?" Sam shouted at them, his tone mocking. Taunts were always called out at this stage, Y/n had told Anthony, since everybody had made their defences and weapons and now they were just waiting on Nana Jean to say when they could start. "It looks like a mud hut!" John yelled, clearly thinking that they would be an easy target.

"Good," Anthony muttered, smile decorating his face. "Mud huts are weirdly strong if you build them right."

"You are so random," Y/n said, but she was looking at him with stars in her eyes. "George I would have expected this kind of knowledge, but you? Never would have guessed you knew this much about mud huts."

"My parents studied them, Y/n/n. Of course I know this much about mud huts."

"So random," she whispered under her breath, looking back out at the playing field. Each of the four teams had taken a corner (Olivia had chosen to side with her parents after they threatened to take away her tv privileges if she didn't join in), and Anthony and Y/n were in the opposite corner to The Brothers Grim (he had named them that in his head). The Bitches (Steph and Linda) were on their right, and The In-Laws (Emma, Ben, and Olivia) were on their left. That meant that they, The Love Birds, were most likely going to get attacked last. Everybody was going to be aiming for The Brothers Grim or The Bitches, since they were the strongest team and the most horrible team respectively, and Anthony and Y/n had come up with a plan.

"Are the names really necessary though?"

"What do you mean?!" He did his best to look appalled. "Of course the names are necessary, darling! How else are we meant to quickly and effectively communicate which fort we're going for?!"

"You're ridiculous, Anthony Lockwood."

"We've covered this already, Y/n L/n. I'm very aware of how ridiculous I am."

"I mean, what kind of person pretends they're a whale when drinking orange juice?"

"Yeah, but that only works if you have the orange juice with the bits in it, because then you can filter it through your teeth and-" She had cut him off with a kiss again, and while he had been in the middle of a very important explanation, he didn't mind that this was how he was being cut off. "You really need to stop interrupting me like that, darling," he said after she pulled back, but he didn't mean it. She knew that he didn't mean it either, because she was smiling softly up at him in the brief silence that they had before the fight started.

"Go over the plan one more time?" she asked.

"Sure."

~~~

Nana Jean had taken her place on the front steps, wrapped up in about ten blankets as she sat on her chair next to Gramps.

Y/n was tense, a pit of nerves forming in her stomach as she crouched next to Anthony. Their plan was supposedly foolproof, but they only had her knowledge of previous snowball fights with her family to discern what the other teams would try and do, and they could always have new tactics. The one thing they could rely on, however, was everybody attacking Steph and Linda first.

Each team had been randomly allocated an item from Nana Jean's collection, and had placed it in their fort. Their job then was to protect it at all costs, and not let it reach any of the other forts. Once in a fort, provided the thief didn't have all four items, they could be taken back along with any other items in the fort.

The Brothers Grim seemed to have the advantage, what with their huge walls and numbers, but Anthony and Y/n had spent most of their lives fighting far more threatening opponents in far more dire situations, and so this would be a breeze. With her knowledge of how her family fought (extremely dirty) and Anthony's weird knack for planning intricate extractions of items, they were sure to win.

They would even end up with time to spare to get under Steph's skin.

"Ready?" Nana Jean called out, receiving multiple affirmations in reply. "Three!"

Anthony shifted beside her, and she got ready to move.

"Two!"

The pit of nerves was filled to the brim, spilling over and making her limbs shake.

"One!"

Anthony's face was set in determination, and his eyes were flicking over the playing field as he waited. She was sure that she was doing the same.

"GO!"

Immediately action brought the front garden to life, with people running everywhere and snowballs flying to and fro, mostly missing but occasionally finding their marks. Anthony had already shot off while Y/n stayed behind with their item: Nana Jean's scarf that was too old and tattered for her to actually be kept warm by it anymore. She knew that Will would try and sneak around the back, and John would be left at their fort since he had the best aim and strongest throw. Sam would be the decoy, and Tom was just running around hitting everyone. Steph and Linda were getting annihilated, crouching down and shrieking loudly when snowballs from all directions took the top of their fort walls off. They had used the soft flaky snow instead of the proper solid stuff, and as such their fort wasn't much protection. That's what Anthony had said, anyway, and she decided that he knew what he was talking about. Y/n spotted her mother attempting to creep up behind her, and she chucked a snowball right at her face. It missed, hitting her shoulder instead, but it was enough of a threat that her mother backed off for now.

Anthony had disappeared somehow, and while she searched for a while she couldn't spot his skinny beanpole frame anywhere. That was probably a good thing, she thought, because if she couldn't find him, then their first target definitely couldn't.

Olivia made for Y/n then, battle cry piercing the air, but before Y/n could even take aim her sister was taken down by someone else's snowball, quickly followed by a "YES! HA HA!" that told her it was Tom. She looked through the gap in the bench that Anthony had left while building their fort, and saw her youngest brother doing a victory lap of the field, getting hit by snowballs but carrying on anyway.

"Got it," Anthony said, making her jump and nearly hit him. "Woah! It's me!"

She did hit him then, hissing her response. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"Sorry, darling, sorry. Got it though!" He smiled triumphantly, looking very proud of himself as he lifted up the woollen hat that had been the item belonging to The Brothers Grim.

"Excellent!" She planted a kiss on his frozen lips and he grinned even more widely as he put the hat down. "Did they see you?"

"Nope. I told you earlier, I'm like a ghost myself." He had said something to that effect earlier on, but she hadn't really been paying much attention because she was too busy thinking how gorgeous he was when he got excited. He was like a puppy, and she could practically see his tail wagging while he looked at her with those brown eyes.

"Yeah, you certainly look like one right now," she snorted. "I'm pretty sure you're the same colour as the snow."

"Oi, my ghostly complexion is going to win us this thing, alright? Anyway, it's your turn to go out. Here." He handed her the large rock that they had found, and kissed her on the cheek. "Go get 'em," he winked, and then she was off, leaving him to guard their fort while she made for her parents.

Unfortunately they saw her coming immediately, but purely because Tom was still running around like a headless chicken and had screamed "Y/N'S COMING! Y/N'S COMING!"

"Dammit, Tom," she muttered, frown on her face. She had hidden the rock in her coat pocket since it was the right size (She and Anthony had made sure they would fit properly), but she still had to get the large gloves from their fort. The stone didn't matter now, because they had seen her, so all she needed to do was snatch their item and get back without being brought down. Luckily the gloves were tied together, which meant she only needed to grab one and she could be off again. Her parents were already tiring, she could tell, but years of being an agent and building up the stamina needed to run away from Visitors all night meant that Y/n was only just getting started. She dodged the snowballs that were thrown her way, and slid behind The In-Laws' walls, taking part of it with her. "I'll take those, thanks!" she said, picking up the gloves and immediately running off again, trying to ignore the snow she could feel melting down her spine. "Here," she huffed when she got back to her own fort, nearly knocking Anthony over.

"Oh, perfect! You alright to stay here while I get the last one? Or did you wanna pause for a moment? I don't think The Brothers Grim have noticed their item is missing yet, but your parents are definitely going to start making their move on us soon."

"Just gimme a moment to catch my breath, and I'll be good to go." She had collapsed into his side, clutching her stomach and trying to control her breathing, and he wrapped his arms around her briefly.

"As much as I would love to stay like this all day, darling, I do also need to throw snow at your family because they're coming this way."

"Oh, yeah. Go for it," she replied, sitting up again. Anthony picked up a snowball in each hand and chucked them over their walls, and although Y/n couldn't see who it was she did hear an "oof!" a few seconds later. "I've still got the rock from The In-Laws attempt in my pocket, so I can go and get The Bitches' item if you wanna keep throwing? You're better at it than me 'cause I can only use one arm. The other one is shit at throwing."

"You sure?" he asked, picking up another snowball. She nodded. "Alright. You know what you're doing, yeah?"

"Yep. I'll see you in five, Schmoopie."

"Why are you calling me Schmoopie? That's my name for you!" he called after her, playful frown on his face. Her only response was laughter, which she quickly stifled as she hid behind the thick oak tree closest to Steph and Linda's fort. Their item was a snowshoe, although where Nana Jean had even found one of those was a mystery. The rock she had in her pocket wasn't really big enough, but if she covered it in a bit of snow then it would be good enough to fool them. Anthony's intricate extraction plan for getting all the items had been to use decoys after sneaking up on each fort, and so far their first target, The Brothers Grim, hadn't even noticed. They were too busy fighting off Olivia, who had turned slightly feral over the course of the fight, and Tom, who had apparently decided that no team was better than the team he had created for himself, and was throwing snow at everyone including himself. Y/n crept forward slightly to assess how long she had before either her cousin or her aunt turned around, but then snow started hitting their nearly-destroyed fort again and she knew that Anthony was working on the distraction for her. Tom started attacking Steph and Linda again too, and while her Dad had joined Olivia in attempting to break down the walls of The Brothers Grim's fort, their attack was weakening.

She needed to move fast.

Y/n made her move then, bending down to grab some snow in one hand, and readying the rock in her other, and headed in the direction of Steph and Linda's backs. They were too busy trying to remake their walls, which meant they had left their snowshoe unguarded behind them. She dropped the rock in the snow, then picked up the snowshoe, and in the next five seconds had shoved the snow in her other hand down the back of Steph's jacket and sprinted away. Her cousin's screams followed her the short distance back to her fort, and Anthony didn't need to ask how it had gone when he heard them. "All four items, safe and sound. Now we've just got to get to Nana Jean without them getting taken off us."

That was the hardest part, since Nana Jean was sat on the front porch nearly completely opposite them. They would have to cross the entire playing field and pass The Brothers Grim fort to get to her.

"Alright. You take these. You can't put them in your pockets, which is annoying, but otherwise we'll be disqualified for cheating. You ready?" she asked Anthony after loading his arms with the items. He nodded, fiery determination in his eyes.

"I'm ready. Remember the weak spots in their walls, yeah?"

"Yep." She had memorised the points that Anthony had pointed out to her earlier, and thanked his parents for showing him how to build excellent forts.

"Okay. Three, two, one, go!" They stood up from behind their walls and started running, Anthony's long legs carrying him across the field while Y/n periodically stooped to grab more snow and compact it into a good enough shape that she could throw it far. He nearly made it, and then Will appeared out of nowhere to take him down. Anthony twirled out the way (always the fancy one), and Will missed catching him by a hair's breadth, but now there was more of a distance between Anthony and Nana Jean.

"THEY'RE GONNA WIN!!!" Tom shouted, and suddenly all of Y/n's family members were closing in on her and Anthony with snowballs in their hands.

"RUN!" she screamed, begging her legs to respond. They were slightly numb from the cold now.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M DOING?!"

Nana Jean had her arms outstretched from where she sat on the porch, and Y/n was momentarily blinded by the flash of her Gramps' camera just inside the window. She threw what snow she could at both people and forts, picking out the points where Anthony had said were weakest and aiming, and sure enough within moments part of The Brothers Grim's fort had collapsed, and the brothers themselves were crying out in anger.

Time passed slowly and in a blur, and before she knew it Anthony was up the steps and shoving the items into Nana Jean's arms and collapsing at her feet, then letting out a small cry of pain when Y/n landed on top of him. "Did we do it?" she asked, expression wild as she tried to catch her breath. Anthony didn't say anything, his face not revealing anything.

Then he cracked a smile, and it was like the sun had come out. "We did it!"

"You did it, love," Nana Jean said from above them, looking fondly down at her granddaughter where she was lying on the floor.

Y/n immediately pushed herself up (that made Anthony make another "oof" since she had braced her full weight on his chest) and turned around, pointing at all her gathered family members who were stood looking sorry for themselves (apart from Tom, he was still running around and throwing himself in the snow) and shouting "HA! WE WIN, SUCKERS!"

~~~

"Thanks," Y/n said, gladly accepting the mug of tea that Anthony handed her. He smiled down at her, one of those soft secret smiles that he kept for the people he loved, and sat next to her on their loveseat.

She wasn't sure when she'd started calling it their loveseat, but that was what it was, she supposed. Nobody else sat on it apart from them, and now they were cosying up like they always did. She had slung her legs over his and made sure not to spill her tea while he adjusted.

"That's nice and warm," he said, holding it under his face to heat up his frozen features. Y/n hummed her agreement, sipping on her own tea.

Everyone was snacking on random bits of food from the still-extensive collection (despite how much had been eaten at the party), and Anthony had brought over a bowl of bits for the two of them to share. Despite the slight chill that still sat in her bones, she was warm, and as she watched Anthony converse with her Gramps she realised that it was him making her warm.

Not his body heat, although he was surprisingly warm for somebody who had been running around in the snow all day, but rather the feelings he was stirring up in her. He made her feel warm just by interacting with her family, just by allowing her Gramps to tell him jokes that the rest of them had all heard a million times, just by even being here with her. He hadn't needed to come with her, and in fact he had argued against it and compromised, saying if she couldn't find anyone then he would do it and be unhappy, and yet he had done it anyway with a smile on his face. She'd genuinely believed that he wouldn't come with her, or would go back on his word because he thought it would be funny to watch her suffer.

But he was here, cuddled up on a loveseat with her in her family's house, talking to her Gramps about trains or something (she suspected it was more her Gramps was talking at Anthony), and he was hers.

Steph hadn't stopped watching them like a hawk since the snowball fight, but Y/n couldn't find it in her to care because she was with Anthony, and they had achieved a sliver of revenge themselves earlier. Her cousin was rightfully pissed about having a bunch of snow chucked down her back, but then again she had spent her whole life making Y/n miserable so really she deserved it.

He was her home, she realised. Not this house, not even Portland Row, despite the fact that she regularly called it that. No, neither of those places were her home.

Anthony Lockwood was.

part 9

Tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12

let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the tag list! <3

#lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #deck the halls (and not your partner)#enemies to lovers #fake dating #christmas

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sissylittlefeather · 5 months

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How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 1

A/N: New series alert! This is a time travel/soulmate AU with Elvis and a reader insert. I've had this one in my head for a while, so I hope you enjoy it! It'll get spicy soon, but this chapter is mostly setup. Hang in there! I think this'll be good! Special thanks to my beta reader, @ccab for helping me with this one, as always.

Warnings: none really. This is mostly fluffy setup! Oh yeah, there's an erection lol

Word count: ~2.7k

You've been an Elvis fan for your entire life. Your grandmother was a big fan and it's something the two of you shared while she was alive. Since she passed, you've become even more obsessed, traveling to Graceland and anywhere Elvis performed whenever you have a chance. It's weird, but you have this strange feeling like there's something that ties you to him, despite the fact that he died 10 years before you were born. You don't really tell people this, but everyone who knows you knows how much you love him. Your roommate is consistently amazed at the lengths you'll go to in order to experience something related to him.

"You're really going to miss class for half a week to go to Tupelo?"

"Yes. I don't know why, but I need to be there at the same time he was."

"Y/n, it's 2007. He's not going to be there."

"I know that, Katie. I can't explain it. Just mark me present in algebra, please." She shakes her head with her eyebrows raised.

"If you insist."

******

It's 1957 and Elvis has had a small break since his last show, so he spent it at his new home in Memphis. The house is everything he's ever dreamed of for his family, so he's almost reluctant to go back on the road. Still, he's promised to do another show in his hometown after the one last year was so successful. Going back to Tupelo is always a strange experience for him, especially now that his financial situation has changed so much. His memories there are difficult, at best, so it's strange to go back as a famous performer.

He shakes his head to refocus on the conversation he's in about getting things ready to leave. The Colonel is there and he'll need to get in a car with him soon. No time to ponder the philosophy of how much things can change in a few short years.

"My boy, are you ready to leave? We need to make sure we have plenty of time to get there before the show."

"Yeah, I'm ready. Let me grab my suitcase." He picks up the piece of luggage and wraps his mother in a hug. She whispers in his ear.

"Love you, booby. We'll see you soon." He nods and kisses her cheek. Then, he makes his way to the car and slides into the back seat. Next stop: Tupelo.

******

When you get to Tupelo, you head straight to the fairgrounds where Elvis played his show in '57. There's something magical about being there exactly 50 years later. You wander around the site, closing your eyes to imagine what it must have been like to be there to see him. There's a strange pang in your heart like you miss him, even though you've never met him.

******

Elvis is putting on his best show for all the screaming girls in the audience. He's dressed in a gold jacket and black pants and he's not holding back at all in his performance. He sings, he dances, he wiggles, and the girls go wild.

Something about the energy of the crowd and the feeling of being on stage has him excited. He does his best to hide it during the performance and is pretty sure he manages to keep anyone from noticing. But as soon as the show is over, he knows he's going to need to find somewhere private to either take care of himself or at least adjust his pants so that it's less obvious. He runs down the steps of the stage and heads behind it to try to find some kind of place to do what he needs to do.

As he's walking around quickly, he gets the strangest feeling in his stomach and then runs smack into a girl.

******

You're wandering around where the stage would've been when you run into him. The shock of meeting another person here at the fairgrounds after dark is nothing compared to what you feel when you look up at him as he grabs your upper arms to steady you.

"Honey, be careful. I'm on a mission here."

"Holy shit. You're..."

"Yes. Now I have to..." He looks you up and down and realizes the strange outfit you're wearing. Then he looks up and realizes the stage has disappeared. He looks around frantically, forgetting that he needs to posture himself to hide his erection.

"You're... how? Oh God." You can't believe what's happening. You're pretty sure you must have fallen asleep somewhere. You pinch your arm, just to be sure. But no, this is Elvis Presley. And he has a massive erection.

"What the hell is going on here, honey?" He looks into your eyes fearfully.

"I don't know. Are you really... you?"

"I'm Elvis Presley, if that's what you're asking. Where are we?"

"We're in Tupelo. At the fairgrounds."

"No, that's where I just was." He looks around again and you look down, blushing.

"Are you... are you okay?" You ask sheepishly. He gasps and turns away from you to rearrange himself. When he turns back around, he grabs you by your upper arms and looks into your eyes again.

"What is happening?" Just then, the security guard calls to you from across the grounds.

"Hey! You can't be here!"

"Oh, shit, we need to go. Come with me." You grab his hand and pull him toward the exit. He follows along reluctantly.

"I'm sorry; I know this is weird, but we need to go." You break into a jog and he jogs along with you, still holding your hand. When you finally make it back out to your car in the parking lot, you stop and catch your breath.

"Okay, honey, what the hell is going on?"

"I need you to not freak out when I tell you this." He shrugs.

"I can't make any promises."

"You, well, you travelled through... through time."

"I don't understand."

"Elvis, it's 2007. You've travelled 50 years into the future."

His face goes white and you're afraid he's about to pass out, so you quickly open the car door and let him fall into your front seat.

"The future?"

"Yes."

"2007?!"

"Yes."

"That's why you're dressed so strangely. And why this car is... different..." He looks around your car incredulously. You nod.

"Is this a thing people do in the future? Travel through time?!"

"Oh absolutely not. I don't know how this happened. Also my outfit is not strange. Your outfit is strange." He smiles a little and then leans back against the seat, wiping his forehead with his hand. You walk around the car and slide into the driver's seat. He turns and looks at you.

"Well, I guess I'm stuck here. Where are we going?"

"You're really Elvis Presley?"

"I'm pretty sure." You shake your head, trying not to cry, but the tears start to stream down your face. "Aw, honey, don't cry. Why are you crying?"

"I can't believe it's you. I've loved you forever."

"How do you know who I am?" You open your mouth to answer and then close it quickly. You'll have to be careful with what you say, so you don't tell him too much about his future. Assuming you'll be able to get him back where he came from.

"My grandma was a big fan of your music in the '50s."

"Oh. Your grandma?! I'm sorry. I keep forgetting what year you said it is."

"It's 2007. Exactly 50 years from where you were."

"50 years. Wow. So I'm 72?! Wherever I am." You swallow hard. You can't tell him. You decide to change the subject.

"I need to go home. I guess you'll have to come with me. Unless you object?"

"Where else am I going to go?"

"That's a good point. Back to campus we go."

"Campus?"

"Yeah, I'm in college. You're gonna have to stay at my dorm. I hope that's not too weird." He looks at you with an incredulous smile.

"Everything about this is weird."

"That's valid." You both laugh as you start the car and drive away.

******

When you pull into a parking space on campus, it's close to 1am. He yawns. You forget how tired he must be. You've actually been able to talk quite a bit on the drive and you're surprised at how easy he is to talk to.

"Are we going to have to sneak?" He looks at you curiously.

"Well, no. This is a coed dorm. No one cares."

"A coed dorm?! What has the future come to?"

"Oh, honey, you have no idea." You make your way to the elevator and ride up to your floor. When you get to your door, you realize you're going to have to come up with a story for your roommate.

"Okay. You're an ETA. Follow my lead."

"I'm sorry. A what?"

"Elvis tribute artist. Impersonator. Basically you're a guy that likes to dress up as you." He laughs.

"That exists?"

"Ha. Yeah. Try not to ask too many questions." You put your key in the door and open it carefully. Hopefully, Katie is already in bed and you won't have to have this conversation.

But she's not.

"And just what kind of hour do you call- oh. Hello." She stops her sarcastic greeting when she realizes you're not alone.

"Katie, this is... John. John, this is Katie, my roommate."

"Nice to meet you, Katie." He extends his hand and she takes it slowly. She turns to you.

"I didn't expect you to pick up a stray in Tupelo."

"Yeah, well, look at him. How could I say no?" Her eyes wander back to Elvis and she shrugs.

"I can't say that I blame you. Okay, well, you two don't have too much fun. I'm going to bed now that I know you're home safely." She turns and heads into her bedroom. Thankfully, you live in a suite style dorm, so you each have your own room. You gesture for him to follow you and head into your room.

"You're going to have to stay in here with me. If you sleep on the couch, it'll be too weird. I'm sorry."

"Does she think...? Is this something you do a lot?" He looks at you with a glint in his eye.

"I mean, not a lot. No. Honestly, like never." You feel yourself blush and you look at your feet. He puts his hand under your chin and tips your face up to look at him.

"It's okay. I'm learning quickly that the future is different. I don't mind staying in here with you." Your stomach flip flops when he touches you and you're overwhelmed with a need for him to kiss you. He seems to feel something too because he turns from you and clears his throat.

You go to your drawers and dig for something he can wear. Luckily, you wear a lot of men's sweatpants and oversized t-shirts to sleep, so you get an outfit together for him and show him the bathroom to change. When he comes back out, you laugh. He seems so out of place dressed so casually. You change into pajamas and wash your face, coming back out to find him settled into half of your double bed. You crawl into the bed next to him and he turns over on his side facing you.

"Thank you for taking care of me. You didn't have to do that. You don't know me from Adam."

"Well, I somehow feel like this is my fault. I'm not sure how, but I feel responsible. And I do know you, kind of. Thank you for trusting me to take care of you." He smiles.

"I didn't have much choice. But it's strange. I feel like I know you, somehow. Like we met once and forgot about it. But I know that's not possible. Either way. I'm glad to be here with you." The feeling that you want him to kiss you is back. But he doesn't. Instead, he closes his eyes and is asleep pretty quickly. You roll over and try to go to sleep too, ignoring the racing thoughts in your head.

You really have Elvis Presley in your bed.

******

When you wake up, you're tucked up under his chin with his arm around you. You're not sure how you got this snuggled up, but it feels nice and for a second you forget who he is. He stirs about the same time you do and stretches, wrapping his arms around you tighter. When you realize the situation, you sit up.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry."

"Don't be, honey, it was nice." He yawns and pulls you back down to him. You relax against his chest and he kisses the top of your head.

"You don't even know me." You whisper.

"Yes, I do. And I like you. Is that okay?" You nod and wrap your arms around him.

"What are we doing today?" He seems to be taking being stuck in 2007 in stride. What you don't know is that he's actually really grateful for the break from his performance schedule. And he can't explain it, but he knows you somehow. Or at least, that's how it feels.

"Oh, well, I already missed my 9am class, so I guess we will hang out around town. We need to go to the mall and get you some clothes. You can't be wandering around in that ridiculous gold jacket." He laughs.

"What do guys wear these days?" You think about the skinny jeans and band tees and you're not sure what to tell him. This might be harder than you thought.

******

At the mall, you take him to a store that sells guy's clothes and watch him as he marvels at the modern styles. He's immediately drawn to the studded belts and you laugh, thinking of the studded jumpsuits he'll wear in the '70s. You find some jeans that aren't too skinny and he stands looking at the wall of band t-shirts.

"All of these are rock'n'roll groups?!"

"Well, we don't call it that anymore, but pretty much."

"Which ones do you like?" You point to a few of them and tell him about the music you listen to that isn't his.

"Can we listen to them?"

"Of course! But clothes first." You take him to the fitting rooms and he picks out a few pairs of pants and some button down shirts. You also let him pick out a studded belt and he goes with a pink one with silver studs. When you get to the checkout counter, he's absolutely shocked at how much it costs. You assure him that this is normal and pay for his things. As you walk out, he leans over and whispers.

"If I ever get back to '57, I'll never complain about the cost of things ever again." You laugh and take the hand he offers as you walk through the mall. He's amazed at how many stores there are and all the noise and technology that's around you. He keeps stopping and looking at things, so it takes you a while to make it through. He stops at a calendar kiosk and finds a calendar with photos of himself. You quickly yank it away from him and put it back.

"You can't see that."

"Aw, honey, why not?"

"I can't let you learn anything about your future." He looks at you with concern.

"Is it that bad?"

"Well, not exactly. I just don't want to ruin anything for you. You have to live it."

"If I ever get back."

"You must, or this calendar wouldn't exist. We'll figure something out." He puts his arm around your shoulders as you move on through the mall.

When you get back to the car, you pull a cd from the holder on your car visor and put it in for him to listen to. His eyes widen as the fast-paced drums and guitar chords start.

"Wow."

"This is what you started. You made this happen."

"It's so... it's a lot. But I like it. A lot." He starts moving to the music and you laugh.

"I'd love to see these guys live."

"I have. It's pretty great." He looks at you with envy as you start to sing along to the music. Somewhere inside him, he kind of hopes you won't be able to find a way for him to get back. Everything in this time intrigues him and the thought of leaving you is certainly not appealing, especially once he hears you sing.

Maybe he'll just stay with you forever.

******

Until Chapter 2!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @ashtag6887 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know!

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis fans #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley x you #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfic #how the web was woven

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henchy5824 · 20 days

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My newest project is a scene inspired by the #666 live on air series from the amazing @prince-liest Go check out their stuff!

Jazzhands

SO I've never done lighting before. I live in perpetual darkness. I don't know what light looks like, can't you tell??!

I've had to actively hype myself up to draw Alastor and I kept putting it off. The intimidation factor with the strawberry pimp is pretty high....

Alt version below

"something violently teal-colored", you say? "fluorescent purple cap", you say? Say no more fam ❤ Of course it would be Nuka-cola-quantum. What else is there?!

They both have a bad day, I feel like. Vox is wearing the most scraggly looking shirt that was not yet chucked in the laundry and he doesn't even care that it's buttoned unevenly. Val is on a date without him, after all.

Alastor has one of those bad hair days. He kept going through his hair all day. Not sure about the ghostly sensation of Vox scritching his ears the day before.

Also: I don't know why Vox would have pcb patterns on his arms on the outside of his body but the idea seemed hella sick, so I had to draw it.

So headcannon time:

-Vox would be the type to have the most designer- and bare-looking kitchen in the history of Hell. Velvette designed it for him and he didn't mind.

-He's got a Potoro Marble countertop and he uses it to eat takeout straight out of the cardboard box and microwave meals straight out of the tin they came in.

-If the appliance isn't fisher price-coloured, it's not VoxTek and therefore has no place in his kitchen.

-The most used appliances are the coffee machine and the microwave.

-He has more barstools but the only one he uses is the one Alastor is currently sitting on. Vox only lingers in the kitchen to scroll on his phone while his meals are heating up or the coffee is brewing.

-He does own a knifeblock and several high-grade kitchen knives but they are still in their packaging in one of the drawers under the counter. He only uses his claws to perforate his microwave meals.

-He does own pots and pans....somewhere.. They are also VoxTek branded.

-Of course he would choose the most retro-50s-looking wallpaper possible. It drove Velvette up the wall but he insisted.

Things I've learned while doing this piece:

-How to use colour swatches

-Being sensible about layers and which layers will interfere with others

-Using light gradient boxes and swatches (omg so helpful)

-Actually using a colour pallette

-The perspective tool!

-Creating a colour filter by applying opacity. (yea, as if I actually knew what I was doing!)

Thanks for reading my brainrot and sharing in my continued effort to draw somewhat adequately looking stick figures and badly lit settings!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel vox #fanart #headcanon #666 live on air #my artwork #my art #vox #radiostatic #radio demon #tv demon #digital art

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raayllum · 1 month

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Key to His Heart Theory: Shot Through the Heart, and You're (S5) to Blame

Intro

So a little over a year ago (since usually I think about things meta wise for at least a good month before writing them down), I wrote a meta about why I thought the Key of Aaravos might hold a quasar diamond, specifically Aaravos' missing chest piece. His heart, if you will.

At the time, I thought it was a very strong contender for what the cube might be, even if it didn't necessarily give us a clear depiction on what it might be used for, and was again operating under the assumption the cube itself is something Aaravos even wants back or needs (which is assumption still, at this point).

It made sense loosely with some of the new information we'd gleaned about the cube from S4 (mostly the Callum pawn intro with its bright flashing light, the emphasis on hearts in the narrative with Ezran's speech, the 4x04 flashbacks) and was likewise built upon a previous meta regarding the series' use of Egyptian mythology (Thoth and Ibis being present somewhat in Callum's arc, the main trio's parallels to another Egyptian myth trio, Aaravos' mirror and mirrors as objects of divination, and potential matching symbolism with the ankh).

The Key to His Heart theory was also built on previous seasons — largely the Magma Titan plot line, and Avizandum being stabbed in the heart — in addition to Aaravos' chest piece, seemingly, being notably absent, which seemed indicative of certain lines from the short stories, particularly Rayla (S4's Dear Callum), but we'll talk more about these later:

Please don’t let this hurt too much. But, if it does—if you feel that soft aching—know that that piece of your heart isn’t missing. It’s not missing at all, Callum: I’m carrying it with me! Always.

If you're interested in this theory and want to know about it, I recommend reading the two metas I've linked above, as the rest of this won't really be delving too much into what I've already written about, and talking about how season five has given more potential evidence.

With that out of the way, let's get into it in rough order of "most to least" likely:

Season Five

TDP Reflections

Whereas hearts weren't mentioned too much in the short stories leading up to S4, they became a reoccurring motif every TDP reflection story going into S5.

Fools. They might as well have held their own hearts, beating and bloody, in the palms of their hands. Kim’dael knew that if she showed them her heart—or something convincingly like it—the Sunfire elves would do exactly what she wanted them to do.

“Rayla,” she said, meeting Redfeather’s gaze. “My name is Rayla. And I’m going home.” Redfeather sighed. “Oh, you bleeding heart.”

“They balk at shadows, then.” Aditi pulled a slip of white-hot metal from the forge and turned to place it upon a gilded anvil. “I see your heart—and I am not afraid.”

It stared up at him. Ezran felt a coldness twist its way around his heart. It took his lungs, too, and for a long moment he could not breathe, could not feel anything but an unfamiliar anger so potent it seized the whole of him, inside and out.

Viren staggers backwards, his last breath shuddering through the blade. His white robes turn red at his heart. Something in Soren’s own chest shatters along old cracks, but he cannot look away.

“You are stronger than this. All storms end!” Rex rumbled a snort through flared nostrils. “What lies at its heart?”

He wept for his city, his people, and the darkness struck deep into their hearts.

While one may say it ends with a sunrise, another will insist it ends at nightfall. Yet at the heart of the story is a single, simple truth…A star fell from the sky.

From where Kim’dael stood, she could only see the brilliant aura of its magic. For a moment, it was as though the queen’s heart overflowed with light.

Now, some of this is undeniably because a heart is a short hand for emotion and one of our most useful metaphors for communicating a variety of emotion. However, I did think it was particularly interesting / eye catching that these lines tended to overlap with the series' growing light and darkness motif and emphasis on wounds/scars (to the point we have a 5x02 episode titled "Old Wounds" that refers to both Viren's past and Callum and Rayla's healing relationship).

But by far the one that struck me the most, and seemed the most reminiscent of how Aaravos's (literal?) wound manifests is this paragraph from Claudia's short story:

Lissa had left her years ago, but the space she had owned in Claudia’s heart remained. It was a dark place now, hard and hateful, its edges raw as a wound that had forgotten to heal.

Mountains had crumbled and left in their wake a vast new sea. It was as though the land had been dealt a great wound and bled a hundred years. Terror washed across the remnants of humanity like a wave: What power could fell mountains? Turn all the world dark, and bleed a sea from stones?

—Ripples (pre-S5)

As well as Aaravos' clear desire to have revenge over the Startouch elves for something that seems to go beyond the resentment over just being banished:

I have not seen the stars in centuries. But when I see them again—when the stars are forced to look upon me, their dark brother—they will know how I have waited. And when everything they have built lies shattered, I will savor their fall from the sky. For I have been patient.

—Patience (pre-S4)

We don't know yet if we are going to get more TDP reflections going into S6 or S7, but given the way the previous stories emphasize the heart as both a symbolic idea (a darkened, hollowed out heart) and a literal entity you can hold in your hands... It's clear there's something going on symbolism else, otherwise why be so consistent? But enough of the reflections, for now.

Time to talk about S5 itself.

Laurelion

Previously, I thought the cube in the intro (a literal glow toy, as Rayla identified back in 1x05) already had similar properties to the star-glow effect in the title intro back at S4.

At the time, this was more of a guess. Most of the Star magic we'd seen at that point we weren't able to fully identify as such, it seemed a bit more magenta in colour, and while there was a parallel in the bright flash of light upon releasing Sir Sparklepuff, there's also a bright flash when the prison is actually made. It's just a good short hand for a crescendo of magical power, you know? We didn't know if quasar diamonds were even going to be white, besides the one presumably in Aaravos' chest concept art wise.

And yet — it still felt like something to me. Then S5 with Laurelion came along.

The Death of the Immortal

K: "And though undying, took last breath, immortal Laurelion was no more." C: That's good, right? I mean when someone "was no more," that's — that's dead, yeah? K: It's a bit confusing, but that is the clearest implication. Though it is somewhat odd they call them undying and immortal. C: Well, that doesn't sound so immortal? Laurelion "was no more". K: Right. C: But how? How did they...? K: Right here. "White as the star's heart it pierced, ivory draconic brought death's bite known ever forth as Novablade." C: It's a sword.

There's a few noteworthy things about this whole exchange:

The poem has to be relevant eventually, otherwise why include it at all when you easily could've just had Kazi and Callum stumble across the sword period?

It confirms that the heart of a star is something that can be pierced, presumably removed, and white, which I think is the biggest "hell yeah" to the 4x04 intro

There is no reason to point out the contradictions in the poem itself unless A) the sword doesn't work the way we think it does and/or B) we are going to find out why the "undying and immortal" thing matters — and they make sure to emphasize the contradictions quite a bit as well, so they definitely want us to notice

If Laurelion died, and Aaravos took his place, that would explain how Laurelion — identity wise — could die while the same person under a new name could also remain alive / immortal

We learn in Rayla's pre-S5 short story that Ghosts don't often keep their real names, and take a new one as the final severance of their bond with their old community. For all extents and purposes, Aaravos was Ghosted (banished) from his community as well. Taking a new name would make sense

"That must've been when [Harrow] fell." "Fell? Fell! He didn't fall, Rayla, he didn't trip and fall on the ground — he got killed!" (2x08)

There's more speculation here regarding the actual sword and draconic ivory, but that is another post for another day that other smart people have made if you are interested. For now let's just focus on the heart.

We know Laurelion had a heart; we know it got stabbed with the Novablade, leaving Laurelion both no more (i.e. dead) and yet immortal / undying. We know that Arc 2 in particular has had an emphasis on losing your sense of self and identity ("I was his puppet" / "We can't save everyone, Soren" / "But I'm not evil. It's me" / all of Viren's dream visions). We know that a Star's heart is white. We know that Aaravos seemingly used to have one, and now it's either missing or impermanent, only visible sometimes.

(Putting a pin in the second image cause we'll roll back around to it in the counter evidence section.)

We know his chest centrepiece glowed when he was imprisoned, and we know it was seemingly gone when he got banished. We know something about the Key of Aaravos was able to reveal his treachery.

I'm not saying any of this is for sure connected, but it does make you think, at least a little?

That, and it'd play into another bit of potential interesting foreshadowing / symbolism we got in s5 with

Viren Heart Theory

This is another theory I've discussed in more detail elsewhere, so I'm going to link to it here, but it wouldn't feel right to not talk about it at least a little here. Basically the theory is that Viren used his own blood / a piece of his heart, or possibly the whole thing, and the relic staff in order to save Soren when he was a young child.

This is largely due to Viren's spotlight turning red after he begs to be able to save Soren, and cinched by Kpp'Ar pointing specifically at Viren's heart only for Viren to deflect and start talking about Soren's case specifically. Whatever he did seemed to make him more 'powerful,' but at a great personal cost ("In the name of love you may perform acts that are so unforgivable, you will never forgive yourself") and something he finds the need to justify ("I had to do something! I had to save him! I had no choice!").

If Viren did this, it also adds another layer to Viren's sentiment of "Harrow's death breaks my heart" being well, half-hearted, in addition to Soren literally stabbing illusion Viren in the heart in 3x09. Viren mutilated his heart for his son's life, stopped being able to properly express love to said son, and then Soren stabbed his father right in the place that presumably saved him as a child. Ouch.

It seems likely that one of the reasons Aaravos was able to prey so aptly on Viren's desire for importance and attention — to Matter — was because Aaravos might've tried and failed earlier on to get the Startouch elves to listen to him pre-banishment. Being ignored, exiled, and disempowered is something he can relate to, and something he doesn't mind taking advantage of when it suits him.

However, if this combination could save someone Viren loved, it makes me wonder if Aaravos did something similar to likewise try (and fail?) to save someone he loved, too. It's either that or the Startouch elves just completely ripped it out, so... I guess we'll have to see?

But yeah — if Viren did it, then I'm expecting it's more likely that Aaravos did it, too. That is all.

The Pawn Intros

But Dragons, you say, didn't we already talk about the Callum pawn intro?

And to that I say yes, but — thanks to a promo S6 picture of Aaravos crying, we know something else very important about said intros that we didn't know before: they take place at the Sea of the Cast Out.

The sky, the mountains... the fact we know, thanks to the statues in 5x09, that this is likely where Aaravos' grief — his wound, if you will — began to bleed and take root, leading to his thousands of years of seeking vengeance and using just about anything or anyone he could. This is, presumably, where his chess game started... and where it is, symbolically at least, going to end.

Okay, so it's the Sea of the Cast Out — why does that matter?

Well, we know the Sea of the Cast Out is a site of literal trauma for Aaravos. We know, thanks to the statues of Aaravos and the Merciful One, that it plays into the same reaching motif we see Viren participate in quite a few times, both in his intro and in other places/relationships (most notably Sarai, Harrow, and Terry).

The Sea of the Cast Out is also, perhaps more importantly for this theory's purposes, near Elarion. What little we do know about the city beyond it being an important place for humans and dark magic ties it repeatedly to nature through The Midnight Star poem:

Elarion, trembling seed, lay down to earth in icy night, and in the cold her roots took hold defying winter’s deathly bite. Elarion, fading bloom, afraid to wilt and dim and die, [...] Elarion, dying husk, did wilt and whimper in the dark [...] Elarion, black-eyed child, her twisted roots spread deep and far,

as well as a tale about the Flowers of Elarion, precious blooms that could soothe the senses and turned to dust come morning—flowers that were left as "a fair exchange of beloved for beloved" (Tales of Xadia). Put a pin that Exchange idea because I swear we're gonna come back to it but not in the usual way you might be expecting, or at least not entirely.

And we have good reason to believe this nature motif is tied to Aaravos' current imprisonment as well, given how present flower imagery is for his mirror.

So the Sea of the Cast Out and Elarion seem to be the two places we know of thus far that are not only the most important to Aaravos, but the most instrumental to his banishment. It would not surprise me if either Aaravos got involved in what would become Elarion either because he was banished, or it was what he was banished over, or if discovering the truth of what happened there is likewise why the Archdragons were partially like "Yeah, we gotta lock this guy up" (now that they knew he posed a serious threat). The fact that Elarion is referred to as a child (everything with "blood of a child,"), black-eyed (which denotes dark magic), and winter's "deathly bite" ("White as the star's heart it pierced, / ivory draconic brought death's bite") just all ties together nicely in being related even if we're not totally sure how.

But Aaravos having his chest piece removed by force / as punishment in addition to being cast out by the Startouch elves, or him taking it out himself and giving it to someone who was lost... There's a lot of roads to get here as to why this stuff all seems connected if the Key is indeed his chest piece, which offers up both a power up, a sad tragic backstory, some baller symbolism, and some nice double meanings as to what it is key wise.

As the Key works in the moment, it doesn't seem like it's something that would be very useful to a primal mage, as other than pretty easily identifiable gemstones they wouldn't be using much the key identifies. However, the function of the Key being able to categorize and sort magical creatures and plants from each other is something that is very useful if you're a dark mage and need to shore up your ingredients list.

If the Key has Aaravos' chest piece in it, there are two main prongs this offers:

It may have been instrumental in helping humans discover dark magic, hence the "Elarion, searing white" and could also be the Gift the poem speaks of. Aaravos removed it himself (love makes you weak?), gave it to his chosen human, chosen human died, and he was locked out of Startouch realm as a combined result. This offers the clearest connection between why Aaravos' mirror has the nature motif and why Aaravos is crying in the beginning of 6x01.

It was removed by the Startouch elves and lost/hidden, forcing Aaravos to be away from his old home until he could find it again. This is the clearest explanation as to why the Key might be relevant on a plot level. It could give him the power up he needs to get out of his prison and barring that, it's what he needs to wreck havoc and gain access to the Startouch elves to get revenge on them

It also allows what we learn of the cube in 2x06 to have multiple meanings:

The Key is revealed in an episode called The Heart of a Titan. We're led to assume that this is just the Magma Titan, and you could perhaps make an argument the dual meaning (just like how Breaking the Seal refers to the letter and the titan's chest) refers to Harrow or Callum's capacity to love. But, given that one of Aaravos' most prominent mythic comparisons is to Prometheus, a literal Titan, well...

"It unlocks something of great power in Xadia" would work equally well if it's a Key literally made from Aaravos, not just to Aaravos. And the past 2 seasons in particular have emphasized over and over again just how powerful and dangerous he is

The salvation and destruction motif that is inherent in the key, ("I just have a feeling this key thing can help me" / "It's the key of Aaravos, no good will come of it") as keys are linked to chains and freedom with the ability to lock and unlock, is rampant in 2x06, as Viren states that Xadia and the Magma Titan "held both the promise of our salvation and threat of our destruction." This goes double for Sarai sacrificing her life to save Viren

And to round back to Viren and his intro, I don't think it's a coincidence that

is one of the first things Aaravos ever says to Viren, particularly when trying to earn Viren's trust. (Nor that Aaravos considers that Zubeia and co. "betrayed" him when "he would lower his guard," just before the imprisonment.) And while Aaravos gains Viren's trust as a political ally here first, it's also clear that he's actually primarily preying upon Viren's deepest emotional desires here as well: to be listened to. To matter.

Viren wasn't listened to by the monarchs around him (Harrow). He wanted to be important (to them). He wanted to matter.

"It is everything to me, to know that I matter. It's all I ever wanted."

Aaravos: Search your heart. There is something you want very badly. (2x09) Zubeia: He was able to give them something they wanted very badly. (4x04)

And that's what Aaravos offered him, with power and knowledge just being the bait. (If you're interested in more detailed thoughts on this aspect of Viren / their dynamic, check out this meta here.)

More to the point, I do lean towards the Key's plot purposes being 1) a power-up that may be needed for him to get out of his mirror and 2) something that likewise allows him to see the other Startouch elves again. After all, the Silvergrove gave each elf a similar kind of key:

But y'know what, let's talk about Rayla now, because

The Missing Piece of Your Heart

As stated earlier, Rayla's letter has a consistent metaphor when it comes to family and loss:

I remember how I felt when my parents left me to join the Dragonguard, like PART OF MY HEART WAS MISSING and I would never feel right again. I thought I hated them when they did that to me. In the beginning, it felt so big and terrible—like raging despair—but, overtime, it became a soft, sweet ache—a reminder of that missing part of my heart. [...] Please don’t let this hurt too much. But, if it does—if you feel that soft aching—know that that piece of your heart isn’t missing. It’s not missing at all, Callum: I’m carrying it with me! Always.

This struck me as interesting when the letter first came out, as it was a departure from most of Rayla's previous heart motif ("My heart for Xadia") and even the one attributed to her one half of her parents ("My heart goes out with this one"). Why have the motif suddenly switch up when it would've worked just as well, or been doubly romantic + a Ruthari parallel, to just have it be the whole heart?

Then season four came out, and I understood, because, well...

Upon her return, Rayla brings back that "missing piece" of "Callum's heart". It's a painful restoration and doesn't run entirely smooth, but in season five in particular we see him be much more like his older, happier self once he's let himself love her again, and how steadfast he is in said love ("To love is simply know this...").

But, in a moment that could've been exclusively about Rayla, nor did it need for Stella's connection to the Star arcanum to be this prominent in the same moment, they choose to likewise highlight Rayla 'bringing home' the missing piece of Aaravos' heart, too.

This symbolism is also consistent with how the key is introduced in the first place, i.e. first thought of because Rayla's drawing in Callum's sketchbook (another gift from Harrow) reminds Callum of it, and her ultimately being the one to retrieve it even once things at the Banther Lodge take a turn towards the south.

Furthermore, we do have reason to believe that Rayla is indeed the 'Key to Callum' in a sense, particularly after 5x08. Just like how a key can both lock and unlock — give freedom or entrapment — Rayla symbolizes a great deal of duality in Callum's life, including but not limited to:

Leading him to primal magic (1x03, 5x08) and dark magic (2x07, 5x08)

Light ("No one can control you or make your choices for you" / Ray of light) and dark ("But the second you see that elf girl in pain, you completely lost yourself" / "Stay safe, and stay in the light. Don't look for me")

Being routinely emphasized in Callum's arc with Aaravos, especially in S4

"Now you're back. That's kind of good, and it's kind of bad" / "You have to hold pain and love in your heart at the same time" / "And when she came back, I was so happy, and so mad at the same time"

Salvation ("Rayla saves people [...] that's what makes her a hero") and destruction (being willing to die / do dark magic for her)

The Ocean arcanum realization being both positive and negative, just as the poem itself takes on a different shape across the season in regards to how Callum views her and how he views himself while being motivated by his love for her / Ezran

“Wow. So [the berries] look identical, but they might kill you or they might save you,” Callum said. “Exactly. Just like me…” Rayla smiled.

—Book One: Sky novelization

If you're interested in a more specific meta on this dichotomy, I recommend this meta written pre-s4 and this more recent one about 5x08 specifically.

I've written before about Rayla have a weird consistency with the cube as well, particularly in her being the primary carrier of its foreshadowing for most of arc 1, with Callum only really doing so in 1x04 and having Rayla pick up the slack the rest of the time:

"It's a toy, a piece from a children's game" (1x04) as well as "It's a glow toy" (1x05) are now literally true as the cube is 1) involved in Aaravos' game and 2) literally glows a bright flashing light circa the 4x04 intro.

"Are you practicing magic or are you losing to Bait at a game of rolly-cubes?" (2x07 right after Callum calls it a key) came to pass, somewhat if not outright, it seems, in 5x08. Callum practices two different magics, Rayla is literal bait in exchange for the glow-toad, and the episode ends with Callum being worried he's potentially losing Aaravos' 'game' so to speak — that he's made himself more vulnerable to the Startouch elf's control.

Two lines of hers regarding the cube that have not yet come to pass are "This doesn't end well for you" (1x05) and "I hope it was worth it to you, putting everyone's lives in danger" (1x04) but I expect that we'll get them soon enough.

Rayla's 'tether' to a the cube does, of course, loop back into the Flowers of Elarion tale, in which there was a fair exchange of beloved for beloved. If the Key does indeed hold Aaravos' heart (and that is still a very big If), whether it would include an actual exchange is still debatable, but it seems inevitable that she would at least play a part. (If you're interested in more thoughts on Rayla + the cube, check out this meta pre-s4.)

Where the game motif gets the most interesting, I think, is where it intersects with the idea Aaravos mentions in 2x09 regarding, "Those who fail tests of love are simple animals," and one of the TDP short stories in particular having one very interesting tidbit:

“My behavior is—?” “—unusual,” Corvus repeated, nodding. “Very unusual. Ever since you started challenging me to all these little games.” Soren squirmed. His pauldrons clanked as his shoulders slumped. “They aren’t games. They’re tests. Ugh…I’m really messing this up.”

Since Rayla is going to have her "My heart for Xadia" undeniably tested, it would make sense if Callum and Aaravos' hearts came into play too, don't you think?

Other Misc Symbolism / Oddities

Last but not least, we have our odds and ends that didn't fit in the other sections, but I thought may be worthwhile to mention anyway.

For starters, we have screencaps (most notably in 3x06) where you can see a visible dip in Aaravos' tiddies chest that indicates something was removed, and it's not just an artificial darkness.

We have Aaravos touching a fist to his heart twice before he bows and indicates that Callum is going to "play" into his hands (remember that game motif?).

We have this shot, which is the exact kind of thing that "crew makes sure the Ocean and Moon runes are most prominently on display in Callum's dark magic dreams to foreshadow him doing dark magic in S5 Ocean for his Moonshadow gf 3 seasons later" would absolutely do and think they're So Funny about. "No gem for star magic" except the one you're unknowingly holding in your hand, am I right?

Finally, we have precedent that dark magic can 'darken' your heart both in show when Amaya passes the light trial ("A human that is pure of heart") and in the graphic novels with Claudia ("Your heart is not yet darkened") which allows her to see the map to a unicorn (The Puzzle House).

@self-spaghettification also noted that the bright white flash of the star in the 'o' of Aaravos' name in the Arc 2 intro momentarily looks like and makes the shape of the Nova Blade, which is also very cool.

Honourable mention to Rayla going "it's a piece from a children's game" and Ezran going "you said each of the archdragons had a piece of the puzzle" and the Orphan Queen and Jailer presumably working together to trap Aaravos. I think about that shit every day.

Evidence to the Contrary / Alternatives

But like I said at the start, there are plenty of alternatives or feasible pitfalls to consider. This theory resides on a few assumptions after all, that may not be true, such as Aaravos not actually needing the key for anything other than as a lure for Callum, it could purely have something to do with the Nova Blade and nothing to do with the prison, or even have something to do with the nature of magic itself, capable of great good as well as great evil.

His chest piece could've always been more immaterial and dark magic has just darkened it rather than it being removed. Aaravos may have stabbed Laurelion in order to use that heart diamond to partially make the Relic Staff he passed onto Ziard, or Aaravos' chest piece could be in the staff itself, and the cube is something else entirely.

Conclusion

In the end, as we go forward into S6 all the above is more less my personal bet as to where I think we really could go in terms of answering a lot of these questions we've had for a few seasons now. I hope you enjoyed reading the theory and considering (and possibly subscribing to) it, as well as getting your own thoughts stimulated. If any of the above happens I will cry for days and no matter what, I am deeply intrigued to see where S6 takes Aaravos' backstory and, of course, his cube. Luckily:

#tdp #the dragon prince #tdp aaravos #key to his heart theory #tdp meta #analysis series #aaravos

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atinylittlepain · 11 months

Text

Apothecary - chapter nine

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

ring around the moon, trouble coming soon.

warnings | 18+ smut, ANGST - i'm not going to spoil anything but fr shit gets real and very sad here so please take care

wordcount: 5K ish

a/n | i am so nervous to share this chapter. listen, this was a very difficult chapter for me to write. i have to thank @beskarandblasters for holding my hand and keeping my secret through it. all i can say is, it hurt me as much as i imagine it might hurt you and i am truly sorry. this is where the progression of the plot dictated me to go. as mentioned, this is the last chapter for a while, but there is much much more to come once i return in august. my inbox is always open, come tell me what you think <3

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

“I think Ellie was disappointed.”

“Why d’you think that?” “I don’t know, I think she was expecting a little more razzle-dazzle.” Joel chuckles at that, pulling her closer into his side on the couch and landing a kiss to the top of her head. The fire crackles and pops, the glow of the fireplace crawling up the walls of the living room, hazy and golden.

“Should’ve done that little candle trick, darlin. Kid’s eyes would’ve popped out of her head.”

“Pfft, I’m pretty sure your eyes almost popped out of your head when I showed it to you.” They share a quiet laugh, settling down into each other, the warmth from the fireplace melting muscle and bone into an easy tangle. It’s the last night of Samhain, a time, she had explained to Joel, to burn away the passing year before the darkness of winter settles in. While Ellie had been excited for the late night fire, she had seemed a bit unsatisfied with how simple and quiet the whole thing had been, excusing herself with a dramatic yawn to her room in the outfitted garage. But Joel doesn’t mind if it means that he gets a little more time with his woman just to himself.

“So, was this a good, um– is holiday the right word?” Though he feels a bit foolish asking it, she just smiles, tilting her chin up at him from where she’s resting against his chest.

“Holiday works, yeah. And this was the best one I’ve had in a while.”

“Really?” Her smile broadens, nodding at his question.

“Mmhmm, because I got to share it with you and Ellie.” He may not understand all of it, the traditions and history, how any of it can even be real, but what he does know is that it means something for her to share this with him, with them.

“I’m glad that you did, darlin, and I know Ellie is too. I– thank you.” Her brow quirks at that, leaning back to fully look at him.

“What’re you saying thank you for?”

“I don’t know– everything. Just, thank you.” He does know, his mind rolling through memories. He could thank her for taking Ellie under her wing, keeping her out of trouble and getting her excited about something. He could thank her for being patient with him, being honest with him, giving him a second chance and then some when he first tried to figure her out. He could thank her for moving in with him, for waking up next to him every morning, for taking his hand in hers whenever they walk through town. He could thank her for that first time they met, how she whirled around him, all warmth and no pretense, so easily letting herself into the small pinprick of light that was his world. He could thank her for a lot of things, but the language fails him, so he settles for everything, sealing his words with a slanted kiss as she twists in his hold to deepen it.

He feels like a teenager again with how bad he wants her all the time, pushing and pulling to get her splayed out on the living room rug, the fire casting a radiant waltz over every new inch of skin he reveals. When he tugs her jeans down her hips, hands a greedy drag, she huffs out a laugh that draws his attention back up to her face.

“You’re very insistent tonight.” She says it with a quirked grin, head tilted to look at him where he’s kneeling between her legs. His heart catches at the sight of her, shirt discarded, bare from the waist up, her jeans still halfway down her legs, hair wild and lips darkened by his kisses. And suddenly his insistence turns a little quicker, a little headier, a little darker, not giving her any answer but pulling her pants off the rest of the way before settling back between her thighs, his open mouth dragging up soft skin before hovering over the faded cotton of her panties, her hips jolting with each of his hot exhales.

He can’t tear his eyes away from her, propped up on her elbows to look at him, brows pinched at the way he ghosts his lips over her, nosing at her clit through thin fabric. He’s never wanted anyone like this, so unconditionally, however he can, in whatever way he can, a surrender so complete it scares him. But getting her like this, sighing for him, whispering his name, it’s enough for him to give it all up to her, more than willingly.

When he finally stops teasing her, getting her completely bare for him, giving her his mouth in the way he knows she wants it, it’s like the sweetest prayer, every sigh a sacrament, her fingers threading through his hair to guide him a holy hail. The woman he worships and the pleasure he provides. He indulges in her, a delicate devouring of her, licking into her before nosing up until his lips drag over her clit, tongue finding that spot, a persistent press. He knows every moan, every jolting muscle, every crumbling exhale, another piece of her he gets to hold.

Her heel digs into his shoulder blade, knee bent and askew as she tenses all at once, hips canting up into his mouth, before going slack with a ragged breath of his name, a brilliant vision of release. A kiss to her hip bone, one to her heaving stomach, the valley of her breasts, the curve of her chin before he stops at her lips, both of them insistent in their shared tangle.

Where he worships, she wills, hands moving with certainty, working him out of his clothes until his skin can press against hers. The heat from the still-blazing fire sets sweat beading, cheeks flushed in warmth as they move together.

“So good like this, darlin. My woman, mine.” Her back arches up, the peaks of her breasts drawn taut against his skin where they’re pressed together, humid and hazy, all heat, all need. She’s perfect around him, cunt swollen and dripping as his hips spear into hers, her heel an insistent press into his ass. Stay here, be mine, stay here, I’m yours.

He ducks his head down, skin pulling away with a smarting stick they’ve started to sweat so much, his teeth catching on the curve of her breast, her cry washing over him when he bites down.

“Joel.” There it is, long and raspy, the only way he likes to hear his name, dripping with need, slipping down her throat. The slap of skin, the salacious sound of her cunt taking him again and again and again. And it’s greedy when he brings his fingers down to smear over her clit, groaning at the way she clenches around him, desperate to pull that pleasure from her one more time.

“Please.” Oh how closely pain and pleasure dance in the crumbling of her brow, the way her lips part around a frown that hinges into a cry when she unravels around him, wet and aching, the tendons in her throat jumping, inviting his mouth to press against them as he goes spiraling after her, his warmth smearing in the crux of her thighs.

They fall asleep to the slow, whimpering embers of the fire, a faint smolder of shadows cast over their still embrace, the night pulling them into the pagan new year.

…

“Have you seen Stevie today?”

“Not since this morning, why?” She shrugs at Ellie’s question, checking over her shoulder at the pot of herbs steeping on the stove before focusing back on her.

“I don’t know, I just– she’s usually around the shop at this time of day, I swear it’s like she’s figured out exactly what time you come over from school.” Ellie hums in agreement, swiveling a bit side to side on her stool next to the butcher block.

“Sometimes she likes to follow Joel, y’know, maybe she wandered outside the gate with him this morning.” That thought seems to distress Ellie, her eyebrows jilting up in a worried pinch that she’s quick to calm.

“Don’t worry about that, kid. Little miss may like to follow him, but she knows better than to wander outside. Anyways, she’s probably just found a little trouble to get into.” She’s a bit too distracted to worry much more about Stevie, she knows she can handle herself and her mind is stuck on the fact that Joel’s patrol shifts are ramping up again. It still nags her thoughts whenever he’s outside the walls, that maybe this is the time that he ends up like all the others, a constant eye on the clock until he’s back.

“You know he’s gonna come back, right? He always comes back.” Ellie’s quiet words snap her back out of her head, grateful for the easy comfort she offers.

“I know. Just, still gotta worry a bit. But I know. I bet we’ll see him and Stevie both waltzing toward us when we head down to the dining hall for the community dinner.” Ellie lets out a groan at the mention of their obligation to join in at the once-a-month shared meal, something Maria recommended as a way to keep the rumor mill quiet. She had never thought about it that way, that her keeping to herself made all the talk worse, and all the talk then made her want to shutter herself away even more. But being around the other folks of Jackson more, and not just when she’s treating them, has seemed to further quell all the swirling rumors. Hence, community dinner night.

“Kid, I don’t know what you’re complaining about. I’m pretty sure Dina is gonna be there.” Even though she’s certain they’ve been dating for a few months now, any mention of Dina is a surefire way to set Ellie blushing, which she tries to hide behind a scrunched up expression.

“I mean, yeah, I guess, it’s whatever. But I’m swiping an extra piece of pie for my troubles.” She has to laugh at Ellie’s huffy claim, shaking her head before turning back to the stove.

“I won’t tell if you come help me pour this stuff into these bottles.”

…

It’s not that he minds it exactly, he understands that it’s a good sign that people are seeking out her help. But he’d rather not hear about some man’s rash in the middle of his dinner. Ellie shoots him a grossed-out expression around her spoon, and Joel is inclined to agree with the sentiment, though his woman seems to have no trouble talking with the man about a salve she can give him for his particular ailment. The dining hall is close and warm, folks sharing tables with each other, conversation easy and echoing in the high-ceilinged room, and Joel can’t wait until it’s socially acceptable for them to leave.

“If you stop by the shop in the morning I’ll have that all whipped up for you, ok?” The man thanks her quietly, nodding to Joel as well before he walks back over to his own table. Joel, meanwhile, is trying and failing to remember the guy’s name.

“Artie Peterson, he works on the council with Maria and Tommy.” Once again, she seems to know what he’s thinking before he even opens his mouth, giving his thigh a quick squeeze before tucking back into her meal. But it isn’t long after that Maura Nichols is coming over with her plate.

“Hey y’all, is it ok if I sit with you?” She’s quick to welcome Maura over, pulling out the empty seat next to her for the woman and starting up an easy conversation with her. Joel can’t help but notice the worry lining Maura’s eyes, the quick glances away, and he reckons that she’s probably looking out for Matthew, guarding against another scene like the one he made at the town meeting. The thought is enough for him to try a little harder, leaning his elbows on the table to at least look like he’s intently listening to the conversation, nodding along to what Maura says.

“So are you two thinking about having a ceremony?” Ellie chokes on her sip of water when Maura asks that, snapping Joel back into attention, his woman letting out a nervous laugh beside him.

“Um, a ceremony for what?” She asks it on a breathy chuckle to Maura who’s still looking expectantly between them.

“Well I just assumed, two people in love and all, you’d be wanting to get married.” At that, Ellie starts coughing around a bite of pie, something between a laugh and a wheeze as Joel thumps her on the back until she settles back down.

“Oh, uh, I mean, we haven’t really talked about it. I don’t think that’s really our speed, right, Joel?” She turns her head to look at him, eyebrows creased in a clear plea for back-up.

“Yeah, I– we– that’s not, not really on the radar right now.” Maura nods, looking a bit chastened at their reaction to her questions.

“I’m sorry, me and my big mouth didn’t mean to pry, I just meant to say that you seem so good together, that’s all.” His woman graciously accepts Maura’s comment while Joel sinks back into his thoughts, Ellie muttering something about Dina and slinking off in the periphery. He was certainly surprised by Maura’s words, but even more surprised that the idea of a ceremony didn’t feel so ridiculous to him. He knows it’s silly, frivolous, something like marriage not meaning a damn thing in this world, but he doesn’t mind the idea of something official, something permanent.

He spends the rest of dinner somewhere between his seat next to his woman and a vague vision of a ring and a vow. But he shakes that thought clear of his mind when they step out into the cool night air, Ellie a few strides ahead of them, calling out for Stevie as they walk home.

“Sorry about Maura’s whole ceremony question. I didn’t mean to speak for you, I just sort of panicked.” She squeezes his hand, a nervous glance his way as they continue walking. He finds that he has to clear his throat before responding.

“No, no, that’s fine, darlin. Kind of a useless question to be asking anyways.” Part of him hopes that the quick flash across her face is something other than acquiescence, something closer to disappointment, but he doesn’t have much time to consider it before his attention is pulled away by the sound of Ellie letting out a clipped gasp.

Everything happens slow, as if underwater, Ellie kneeling down on the porch, curled over in a shuddering heave, Joel’s mind going blank with fear. And everything happens slow until it doesn’t anymore, her hand breaking from his as she makes a stilted jog up the porch steps, body going rigid as she sees whatever Ellie is hunched over.

What? It’s more of a shriek than a word, high and jagged in her throat as she sinks to her knees next to Ellie, letting out a string of staccato yelps. It’s despair distilled, the sounds she makes, Joel’s heart a tight fist as he tentatively steps onto the porch.

She could be sleeping, if you didn’t look closely. Laying on her side, having dozed off after catching the last rays of sun. But there is no rise and fall of her sleek, black fur, no stirring when Ellie lays a shaking palm over her belly.

Stevie’s not sleeping.

She’s trembling, reaching for the lifeless animal before jerking her hands away as if she might get burned, Ellie pulling her into a tight hug as she all but dissolves into sobs. And Joel feels helpless, standing over them, unable to figure out how to fucking fix this. But when his brain catches on the one thing that makes sense, that feels like an explanation and a solution all at once, he finds himself stumbling down the porch and back toward the main drag of Jackson, toward the Tispy Bison where he knows he can find who he’s looking for.

In another life, when he and Tommy lived on the road together, his brother had described what Joel did as like flipping a switch. Something would fall over his eyes and his mind, his body moving with a violent knowledge, purpose in the pain he inflicted. It’s how he moves now, cutting through the crowd in the bar and finding Mason in the back of the room, the grin on his face expectant, like he’s been waiting for him. And though the man opens his mouth to speak, Joel doesn’t give him the chance to get any words out before he’s grabbing him by the back of his neck and dragging him out of the bar on unsteady feet, slamming him hard against the alley wall.

“Tell me right now that you didn’t do it and I’ll think about not killing you.” Mason’s smirk splits into a slippery grin, not even struggling in Joel’s grip.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miller. But if you ask me, people oughta keep a closer eye on their pets.” It’s all he needs to hear, enough for him to pull his fist back before letting it swing scare into Mason’s jaw.

This time, he doesn’t stop swinging.

…

At some point, she must have worn herself out enough to fall asleep, sitting slumped on the couch, her neck tipped back in a painful crunch. Her eyes are so heavy, so swollen, that she can barely open them when a light squeeze is pressed into her shoulder.

“Joel?” Her voice is hoarse, barely cracking a whisper, too quiet for Ellie to stir, tucked close into her side and asleep. He’s kneeling in front of her legs, both his hands coming to rest on her knees, eyes searching her face, and suddenly she feels like she’s going to fall apart all over again.

“Where– where have you been?” It had been a blur, an awful haze, wrapping Stevie’s body in a thick blanket and tucking her into a box, both of them unsure what to do next except for cry. At some point, it had registered somewhere in the periphery of her mind that Joel wasn’t there, but it had been a fleeting thought, a deeper and darker wave of emotion washing it away in the night. And though she tries to be concerned about it now, any worry, any questioning is swept away with a fresh flood of tears.

“I’m so sorry, darlin. I’m here now, I’ve got you.” He shifts to sit on the couch next to her, pulling her into his side as she starts to shudder, her sob breaking into the fabric of his flannel. Her mind can’t stretch much further than the span of this grief, stop-starting itself to a jagged rhythm of disbelief followed by realizing over and over again that this is real, that her girl has left her. It feels like a horrible, lurching ride that she can’t figure out how to get off of.

“W-we need to bury her.”

“I know, darlin. We will. Just rest right now, ok? I’ll take care of everything.” They speak in a quiet hush, Ellie still sound asleep on her other side.

“I always knew it’d be time for her to g-go eventually. But it just– it feels too soon, feels too fucking soon.” Believing what she does, knowing what she does, it doesn’t make the agony any less complete, any less brutal. And once again, all she can do is cry as Joel pulls her a little closer.

…

They bury her in the backyard, beneath the towering cottonwood she had a proclivity for climbing. He knew that Ellie had grown attached to Stevie, but he’s still taken aback by just how torn apart she is, saying a few words over the freshly-covered grave before tears take over her voice again. But it’s the sight of his woman that keeps breaking his heart, a silent sadness taking over her slackened features, eyes and cheeks red with salt, her voice faint and uneven as she says goodbye.

He moves them both through the rest of the day, making sure they eat, coaxing glasses of water into their hands, keeping a fire burning in the living room where they’ve curled up on the couch. Joel knows grief. He knows that it comes in strange waves, reality stretching thin and frail in the beginning. But it still frustrates him that he can’t do more, that he can’t take their pain into his own hands and make it go away. Whatever he can control, he does. Whatever he can fix, he does.

When both of them have managed to fall asleep in the still of the night, he quietly slips out the front door, half-expecting Stevie to fall into step beside him, a twinge of pain shooting through his chest, a particular loss he didn’t know he’d feel.

Tommy is waiting for him at the stables, pressing up off the wall of the barn as Joel approaches.

“Let’s take care of this.”

The body has already gone stiff, wrapped up in an old sheet, both of them having to work to get it slung over the back of one of the horses, a heavy blanket draped over top of it to ward off prying eyes. Luckily, no one on patrol bats an eye when Tommy Miller asks for the gate to be opened for him and his brother.

They ride out toward the plains, the moon casting the hills in purple shadows. And, after deciding that they’ve gotten far enough away, together, they dig.

He had gone to his brother the night before and told him everything. And Tommy had made a few things clear. He would help him, but no one could ever find out, they would never speak of this again, and they would get it done as soon as possible.

They work through the night, the sun curling golden fingers over their shifting backs, stripped down to their undershirts, sweat sticking cool in the crisp morning air. When they finish, a fresh plot of overturned dirt lays before them, what rests below something only they will ever know, with any luck. Joel opens his mouth to speak, but Tommy stops him with a palm held out.

“Don’t, Joel. I’m not gonna judge you for what you did, but I ain’t gonna talk about it either. Blood helps blood, but I don’t wanna hear another thing about this. It’s done. Let’s get back to town before anyone realizes we’re gone.”

…

She wakes up the same way she did the morning before, curled on the couch with Ellie tucked into her side. It was a deep but restless sleep, nothing could have woken her from it, but now opening her eyes, she feels like she could fall back into it all over again. She hears what she assumes is Joel puttering around in the kitchen, the soft clink of dishes, the click of the stove coming on and the hiss of the kettle.

She knows she can’t stay on the couch again today, knows that people need her, so she presses her grief down until she can just barely swallow it, quietly getting up without waking Ellie and padding into the kitchen.

“You must think me really pitiful to be brewing actual coffee.” He doesn’t say anything, simply taking the few strides to reach her and pull her into a tight hug, her face pressing into his shirt, inhaling him so deep she can’t cry.

“I’m fine, really. I am.”

“No one’s expecting you to be fine, darlin. Stevie was, well, she was different, wasn’t she?” She finds herself letting out a weak laugh at that, nodding meekly against his chest.

“Yeah, she was.” Silence, and suddenly she feels like it’s a really good idea to stay exactly like this, swaying lightly in his hold, her nose buried into the fabric of his shirt, for the rest of the day, a sign in and of itself for her to disentangle herself with a shaky sigh.

“I’m not gonna miss any more appointments. Don’t wanna let people down.” Joel nods, holding onto one of her hands between them.

“I think people would understand if you needed another day, honey. But I also think it could be good for you, get out, take your mind off it for a little while.” He pours her a cup of coffee and gets started on breakfast, Ellie shuffling in and slumping down at the dining table next to her. She curves what could be a smile across her face, resting one of her hands over Ellie’s.

“Hey, kid, I’m gonna go into the shop today. Would you– would you wanna come help out after school?” She shrugs, a quietly murmured yeah, I guess as Joel sets down plates for all of them.

There’s no two ways about it, the morning is hard, making her house visits, half expecting Stevie to be trailing her heels, half expecting to catch a glimpse of her girl as she moves through town. People are surprisingly kind about it, offering quiet apologies that she thinks might be more painful than if they just didn’t say anything, though she knows they mean well.

It’s both a relief and a reminder, getting back to the shop, and she’s desperate for Ellie to show up so it doesn’t seem so quiet. But soon after she does come over from school, Maura comes in as well, carrying a small bundle of flowers, some of the last of the season.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. Some folks don’t understand how hard it is, losing a pet. But they’re as much family as anyone else, aren’t they?” She accepts the flowers from Maura with a small smile and a nod, still surprised by how easily this woman extends her kindness.

“I also wanted to see if you heard the news.” Her brow furrows at that, looking over to Ellie who seems equally unsure of what Maura’s talking about.

“Oh, you haven’t. Well, apparently Mason skipped town. Folks hadn’t seen him in a day or so, and Tommy finally let people know that he decided to leave last night. Why anyone in their right mind would want to go out there on their own is beyond me, but I say good riddance.”

It doesn’t feel right, though she can’t place exactly why. She looks to Ellie, whose face is set in a strange, steely expression, something hidden, working through something in her mind. Her thoughts flicker, moving her before it’s even fully formed in her mind, an instinctive knowing, like when you go to reach for something but find it missing.

“Maura, could you stay here with Ellie for a moment? I need to go check on something real quick.” Ellie calls after her, though she’s already out the door and heading for the stables.

Joel looks taken aback when he sees her walking a straight line toward him, but before he can get a word in edgewise she’s grabbing him by his wrist and tugging him into the stables, into the darkest corner behind a large stack of hay, her words coming out in a hushed torrent.

“Tell me right now that you had nothing to do with it.” His mouth is slack, brow furrowed, a picture of perfect surprise as she points her finger into his chest.

“What– nothing to do with what? What’re you talking about?”

“Mason is gone, and I swear to whatever powers there are, if you had anything to do with it I need to know now.” She can see the bob of his throat, eyes still wide at her outburst.

“Mason made his choice and he’s gone, that’s all.” She nearly laughs at his response, how dizzyingly vague it is. She knows him well enough to see that he’s keeping something from her, something in the set of his jaw, the huff he lets out as he speaks, and she wants more than anything not to see it, not to know it.

“That isn’t– that’s not good enough. Joel, I need you to promise me you didn’t have anything to do with this, please.” The tears start falling before she can stop them, and he’s quick to close the space between them, taking her face in his hands, his eyes steady on hers.

“I promise. That man made a decision and he left, end of story.” She lets him tuck her into his arms, lets him quiet her sobs, lets his palms run warm currents up and down her back.

He lies to her, and she lets him.

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

taglist: @boofy1998 @misspascaliverse @jasminedragoon @beskarandblasters @daddy-din @subconsciouscollapse @avidreader73 @pedgeitopascal @littlelou22 @wannab-urs @hannahlupinblack @whoiscaroline @str84pedro @mumma-moonchild @leeeesahhh @disregardedplant @mxtokko @igloo71 @secretdazeobservation @eddie-munson-dungeon-master @cressida-clearwood @mydailyhyperfixations @mingeniee @the-ginger-hedge-witch @delicious-collection @gab-thelamb-onthemoon @thereaperisabitch @lunxramour @jupiter-sky @parrotpeggy @abbiesxox @nerdreader @ssa-raye @vermillionwinter @jksprincess10 @jordycat-2018 @lavenderkee @hungryforbatboys @casa-boiardi

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #the last of us #joel miller fluff #apothecary #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller au

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greenconverses · 1 year

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i am so very curious who these new pjo-verse books are being written for

and before you come at me with the it’s middle grade they’ve always been middle grade stuff, consider

it’s literally been almost 20 years since TLT was published. fans of the original pjo books are well into their 20s, if not their early 30s by now (heeeey). second generation with HoO are also now in their 20s, with the third gen of ToA readers being in their late teens. there’s a whole range of audience members who are not fifth graders mainlining the series in one summer.

is he just going to keep pretending there’s not an audience who would be here for more mature writing? and that doesn’t mean making things ~sexy or super dark and bloody or whatever because pjo has never been about that. it means elevating the style and characterization on a deeper level and, idk, paying attention to your fucking universe. i thought RR did a great job of maturing the writing for ToA, but it always got held down by the fart humor and stupid pop culture references.

making the “it’s for middle schoolers!” excuse every book cycle when someone points out that hey, this is inconsistent with what you wrote two books ago or why does percy never grow up is such a lazy co-opt. you have a huge audience of all ages! if you insist on continuing to write in this universe, acknowledge us! up the quality, i dare you! i dare you!!!!!

#hello yes i am mad at RR again what a shock #this post brought to you by first few chapters of TSATS #you're telling me i waited over a DECADE for a nico-led book and THIS is what i've been given????#i'm gonna burn the house down when the chalice of the gods comes out i can fucking feel it #YOUR OLD FANS EXIST RICK!!!!!!#can't wait for the twitter stans to find this and cyber bully since they're the only fans to exist ever

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strayywayy · 2 months

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Giving you what no one else could Bangchan pt-3 pt-1 pt-2

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Pairing: bang chan x fem!reader

Brief: You have extreme body dysmorphia and depression. Chan comes in your life as a ray of light in the dark, things take a turn teaching you what love is. You come in each other's lives' as messiahs. Love is mutual chan is helping you to his max but how do you help him?

Genre: soulmate AU, fluff, eventual smut (comes later in other chapters), light angst, lotss of comfort

Content Warning: Mild swearing, sexual themes(again comes laterr) and discussions, mentions of body image/ self-hate A/N: This is the very first thing i'm writing in like whole of my life. This series will be shamelessly self-indulgent as I relate to this soo much. Chan makes me feel like home so this is how I portray him with my story. I have no ideas how many chapters this will have hehe. Credits: dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you so much for the dividers these are soo pretty!!

That day at the studio went even better than the last one. Now the somber tunes which you danced to that day seemed to vanish as all you felt was happiness being with Chan. You both even choreographed an entire song together. The song was too sensual to dance with someone for just the second time but it was just right in your case because both of you seemed to be a fan of the melody and the musicality. Chan recommended this song to you and coincidentally you already had it in your list of favourite songs. Talk about Chan being your soulmate. The choreography was a banger and all your dance mates loved it as you both showcased in front of them. They teased you for the sensuality and chemistry between you two and hyped you too. "Just date already" "get a room you two" were some funny compliments ya'll laughed to. You planned on performing it for the upcoming "student showdown" that was gonna happen at your studio. Of course with the best partner you could wish for.

Chan and you started brainstorming for your outfits. Both of you agreed on a classic black color outfit with variants of it for chan and you. Chan's outfit was a satin black shirt with latex pants. You imagined how it would look on him. Not going to lie he could've caught you drooling if you didn't control it in time because damn, that outfit was sexier than anything you'd ever seen in your life. You too had a lacy bra with latex pants which was just as revealing and sexy as your liking. You loved the idea of it on you and were very very eager to wear it and perform. Again the fucker in your head made you reminisce all the harsh remarks you had gotten. You were afraid that people would judge you for your body when it was far from being a contender of being judged. Your body was the dream of many honestly, you got to know this later when Chan convinced you. For now, you gave wearing the outfit a second thought. The twisted part taking over, you asked Chan if you could change the outfit. He did not have any problem and would go by your decision even though this had to be mutual. He wanted you to be comfortable he assured. But he asked you if you were conscious about your body or anything. As if he had heard your inner thoughts. You brushed it off and said you were okay. Chan doubted it but eventually agreed. After this hectic but extremely enjoyable session you went to had lunch. Chan insisted on taking you out and you instantly agreed.

At the restaurant, you did not seem to eat much. At all would be a better word. Chan got concerned and asked,"Y/n why aren't you eating? does it taste bad? I'll get it replaced if you want." "Excuse m-You stopped him and said that you weren't really hungry. Lie. It was a total lie the last meal you had was dinner. How could you not be hungry? Moments later a growling sound escaped your stomach. Chan's ears heard it and he knew what was going on. He knew you were starving yourself, he knew why you wanted to change the outfit earlier. But he also knew that talking to you about this directly won't solve the issue in the long run. So he tried to get you to eat by other means. "This tastes so good y/n" "give it a try" "This the best i've ever had" and he would stuff food into your mouth. You refraining at first but eventually giving into his approach. You were surprised and glad that you didn't go puke in the bathroom stall like you did after any meal you had at restaurants may it be with friends or family only to not gain weight. He is so sweet you thought to yourself and thanked him and god everyday for having him.

This continued for days until you started eating normally on your own all thanks to Chan. You started calling chan "channie" the nickname he loved. You both had become very close over the few days. You shared many happy, flirty moments together. Some awkward too when you both would admire each other and get lost in each other's eyes which was often broken by other stupid people. You hated it you wanted to stay like this forever. But this was practically impossible anyways, just staying in channie's contact was enough for now. Slowly both of you wanted more though. You both wanted this to be more than platonic which sure was very evident.

The studio started getting crowded as practices for the showcase began. You suggested to practice at your home. Chan happily agreed as if he waited for you to ask him that. You both would practice for hours not growing tired of it but quite the contrary. Chan and you would take chances cooking. Both of you became very comfortable around. You even wore chan's hoodies. He would let you do that because he loved how cute you looked in it and how his scent would always be around you turned him on. The smell of him turned you on too that was one of the reasons you took his clothes too. Both ya'lls feelings were too obvious and you sure were going to claim each other.

One day while Chan was at your place the outfits came in. That day for some reason you were acting like a horny teenager for the first time as you'd remember. Chan being present made it worse because all the thoughts you had about him were far from innocent. It was time to try on the outfits. Chan went first. When he came out you almost wanted to scream and tell him to ruin you for anyone else in an instant but you controlled to not make him uncomfortable or anything. The shirt showed an outline of his godly body as if the outfit was made for him and him only. The pants made you wonder all kinds of things you shouldn't have thought. You noticed the veiny hands Chan had even though you knew him for many days now and, how good would he look gripping on any part of your body he wanted to. You would happily allow him to. You would desperately allow him to. You gathered yourself and acted like a damp spot wasn't forming in your underwear at the thought of him.

It was your turn now. You had gotten two outfits as Chan insisted you to try the first one too. You tried the second outfit which Chan praised so much and showered you with compliments. It was all in an innocent manner though it seemed.

As you tried the second fit it seemed like some switch flipped in chan's brain. As he sat manspreading on the couch his pupils expanded becoming darker filling with what you thought was lust and it sure was. Nothing was innocent anymore. You walked up to him and he stared at you. His eyes locked with yours. No one spoke a word until........... to be continued.....

#alternate universe #bang chan smut #bangchan #stray kids channie #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz comfort #christopher bang #skz #stray kids imagine #stray kids #skz au #bang chan x female reader #first post

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echantedtoon · 2 months

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Quite A Handful

Sometimes it was a handful to have so many husbands.

(This is inspired by @starrcityyy's Hantengu Wife Y/n art. (Warnings: Their blog does contain NSFW elements and themes that not everyone may like or be comfortable with. Just a heads up. But this WILL STAY Sfw.) I did ask if they were fine with someone writing drabbles inspired by their au before writing this, and they mentioned that they were fine. This is probably not gonna be very long and it's from the perspective of a female reader.

Wife Y/n Concept- @starrcityyy

Demon Slayer- Koyoharu Gotouge

Warning: Karaku IS his own warning. Possibly some innuendos. Mentioned killing.)

The thunderstorm I'm the distance between the roof and sky haunted the eardrums as the storm drew ever closer in the darkness.

There truly was nothing but the warmth of the small fireplace within the cozy small house in the middle of the woods. A cozy small hideaway nobody knew but you and a select few individuals. It would shield you well from the harsh elements and keep you safe and sound from the outside. It was your own little safe haven. Just yourself to worry about now.

The bubbling pot of soup on the stove wafted in waves making even the most stuffed person desire to eat it as you smelt it. A hum of satisfaction left your throat as you nodded and took your hand off the soup ladder after stirring it a few times. This would surely last you a few days. Cooking enough food to last you a few days was always good. Having leftovers only meant you didn't have to cook over a hot stove for a good while. It left you time to focus on other things. Speaking of other things- F/c eyes turned to the door as thunder drew ever closer and closer judging by the sounds in the distance. Now where are they?

They usually weren't this late.

It was sort of a pattern by now. Usually the first one to show up would be the most skittish one after he runs away from whatever danger scared him. Cowering by your legs and hugging you for comfort. Then depending on how hard the task was, the other four would follow right after either sooner or later. Like said it depended on how hard her husband's work was that day. You supposed tonight would be a hard working day. Until then you busied yourself by picking up a broom to start sweeping up the floor. The faint sounds of broom bristles scraping on the floor added to the crackling fire and the distant thunder. Perhaps that's why-

You didn't hear anything when the door opened.

You didn't see the demon crawling it's way inside scuttling like an insect.

Didn't sense the figure looking behind you until deadly claws wrapped around your form.

"Hi. You're home late," you casuay said not bothering to look up at the form trembling as it clutched onto your kimono. "What happened to you this time?"

"Not my fault! N-Not my fault! The hands that had killed them were not mine!", a voice sobbed and croaked out between cries.

Yep. Seemed about right.

"Are you hungry? Or did you already eat out tonight?"

"*Hic* I didn't do iiiiiiitttt!!"

"You already ate then. Good to know."

By now you could already interpret what he meant by his rambles. Wasn't always easy though especially when he had the tendency to go on for ages. An insistent series of weak shaking tugs told you all you needed to know about what he wanted. Without batting an eye, the broom was placed to the side and she assumed the position of turning around and doing the familiar process of hugging the sobbing demon closer to her while he sobbed into the folds of her dress. Make no mistakes. He had the outward visage of a weak old man but he was far from weakly.

"Shh. Shh. There, there now. You're ok. Nothing's going to hurt you. You're alright." Her hand soothingly patted over his back and head being mindful of his horns.

"Monsters. Monsters! All of them! Putting blame on me when it wasn't my.." his voice dissolved into muffled sobs and whimpering in the fabric of hee dress she could barely make out.

It times like this it would be a while before he was able to pull himself together and this time would be no exception. You spent the better half of an hour just calming him. He had completely almost calmed down when again the door was opened but with much more force. The door frame rattled from the five of the door sliding open and the sound echoed throughout the room. The loud sound had him squealing in fright again and scrambling to hide behind her legs gripping onto the fabric of her dress.

"HONEY, I'M HOME!~"

"Shut UP, Karaku! My head is killing me!"

"It's not my fault you let yourself get hit by that boulder.~"

"YOU'RE THE ONE THAT BLEW IT TOWARDS ME YOU ABSOLUTE IMBECILE!!"

"Then next time don't stand in my way ~"

"WHY YOU STUPID-!!"

"That's enough both of you. Your fighting is making me sad."

Footsteps approached and by the screams she could already tell who else had shown up. One. Two. Three. AAAnd four more demons dangerous and strong. One holding his head annoyed and scowling. Two looking amused by his anger and smiling. And one last one looking a mixture of 'over this' and slightly worried.

"Hi, honey." You smiled at them. "How was work?"

"Miserabl. G." Your husband rubbing his annoyed temples didn't even look up.

"AW. Sekido's just upset because he got a boo boo.~ Big deal.~" Said green eyed husband rolled his eyes when his angrier counterpart shot him a dirty look, but soon put all his focus into giving her a wolfish grin. "But enough about him.~ What's our cute little wifey been up to?~"

"Cleaning. Are you all hungry? I made dinner."

"Nah. We ate before we got here." Another arm wrapped around her and pulled her against a fluffier wing in contrast to his sharp claws that pulled her against him. "But it's so cute seeing you all domestic. Makes me just wanna gobble you up!"

"Let's not eat her. That'll just make all of us sad."

"Aizetsu. I-...I was just joking. Y'know?" Your blue eyes husband just stared. "You know. Like a joke I did just for fun. ...You did know that right?'

".... I'm going to be keeping a very close eye on you from now on."

"Aizetsu, Im serious! It was just a joke. I wouldn't really eat her!"

The veins on Sekido's forehead got bigger than before as Aizetsu stared down a now slightly intimidated harpy demon and Karaku laughed at all three of them. Meanwhile the trembling demon behind you finally let go of your dress in favor of hiding his face in them but still his behind you. Your head tilted in concern at Sekido. Out of all five of them, he seemed to be the only one in genuine pain.

"Well enough of pleasantries.~" Karaku smoothed his bangs to the side before pressing an arm on the wall above your head and giving a bigger smirk. "I've missed this pretty thing.~ How about you and me-"

He fell silent as you suddenly ducked under his arm and out of Urogi's grip. Hantengu squealed as his makeshift shield was removed and all watched as you ignored all of them in favor of grabbing Sekido's head and pulling the lightly surprised man towards you.

"You look worse for wear. Are you alright, Honey?"

Sekido blinked before scowling."Peachy. Karaku blew a dam boulder at me! My head is KILLING me."

You cooed before pulling his head lower to cradle it much to the disgruntled others' dismay. "There, there. Poor baby. Come on. I'll get you some pain medicine and have you lie down."

"I don't need to be coddled!.....But this is fine I guess."

"Do you want me to stay with you until you feel better?"

Sekido paused.. before looking at the others and giving a rare triumphant smirk that earnt him jealous frowns.

"Yes. I'm going to need a LOT of care."

131 notes · View notes

lincolndjarin · 9 months

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter twelve : pretend (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 4.4k

summary : reader plays pretend

warnings, etc. : language, angst, references to sex

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!

Two days.

That’s what you’re willing to give yourself. Two days to get over it. One to get it all out of your system and one to pull yourself together.

So you need to get through day one.

Which is going fine until you step out of the closet and into the main room and you look for a pair of scissors, opting to just cut yourself out of your dress from yesterday rather than try and unlace it yourself. It’s not like you’ve ever worn the same dress twice anyway.

And then you're faced with your reflection.

You remember thinking you’d looked like a stranger when you first arrived on Naboo. It’s like that. You stare at your reflection as you carefully cut away the dress, you look unfamiliar, the bruises on your waist are starting to yellow and fade, you trace your fingers across them gently and you sort of wish they wouldn’t heal. It’s the only physical trace of him left on your body.

You don’t bother covering them when Elaine and Lysa walk in. You can’t seem to find the energy to care, if they notice they don’t say anything as you quickly wave them off, insisting you don’t feel well and want to spend today in bed.

You don’t look to see if there’s a glint of silver outside of the door. You know there is.

So you do exactly what you told the girls you’d do and you retreat back to the closet, crawling into the blankets, staring at the door. Normally you’d push down any thoughts that might be creeping in right now, but why does it matter anymore.

“I don’t want you.”

That’s what he had said.

Was it so wrong to want him to come through that door and crawl into your makeshift bed with you? You don’t think it makes you weak, it just makes you… human. You’ve spent your entire life being turned away by the people who were supposed to keep you safe. Your family first, sending you here, to this nightmare. Then your husband, sending you away until he decides that you’ve become useful. And now Mando.

But this hurts more than the first two.

As much as you didn’t agree with it, you knew your parents had thought they were doing the right thing when they sent you away. And you couldn’t care less what Kodo thought of you.

Mando had been kind.

He had been your friend.

Had he? He seemed to think he hadn’t but maybe it was just a one sided friendship. That still counts, right?

Bodyguard, rival, friend, protector, confidant, lover, nothing.

You decide lover was the right word. You didn’t necessarily love him. Love is a very volatile word. He had loved you, physically that is.

“I was… bored. You were entertainment.”

Of course he hadn’t loved you in any other way, only physically. He had made love to you.

Now he didn’t want you.

He had grown tired of you so quickly.

You shake off the thought. No sense thinking like that, you weren’t a helpless victim here. You knew that it wasn’t a permanent arrangement. You just hadn’t expected it to be over so soon. It was bound to happen eventually, it’s actually probably better that it happened now. Before you got too attached.

Were you already too attached?

Right now, here in the darkness of the closet, wounds still fresh it feels worse than any break up you ever went through back on Hoth, and most of those relationships had been much longer than this short lived affair.

You had liked him.

There’s no harm in admitting that now that it’s over. You had not loved him, maybe you had simply liked him. You had a crush on your friend, that’s completely normal, especially considering you were doing plenty of other things together.

It feels nice to admit that.

Like a weight has been lifted off your shoulder. Of course it doesn’t matter because there’s still a million other things holding you down right now but it’s a brief sense of relief.

You had liked the Mandalorian, as more than a friend.

Nothing’s gonna happen with him anymore so you can admit that to yourself now.

It’s good to get that out of the way, it’ll help you get over this faster.

Except it doesn’t really, your relief is brief as you burst into tears, burying your face in a pillow for the rest of the day. It hits you like a ton of bricks, you’re finally willing to admit that you may have had genuine feelings for him and he’s already moved on. It makes you feel pathetic, it makes you cry harder. But that’s okay, because that’s what day one was for, getting it all out.

When you wake up, eyes red and puffy, you’re ready for the next stage in your plan. It’s time to recover from yesterday. You send the girls away again like clockwork as you stretch in front of the mirror. You’re more than capable of getting through this. He’s out there, and the longer you hide in here from him the worse it’s gonna be. So one more day, you can find some busy work to keep your mind occupied.

You organize the closet. It’s massive, so you search through the drawers, trying to figure out what goes where. You open one of the drawers tucked in the back and you can’t help but gawk at the contents.

Pants.

You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed pants. Honestly you didn’t hate the dresses but you were getting a little sick of being dolled up beyond belief every single day. This entire time there’s been a whole drawer full of trousers you could have been wearing, you slip on the first pair you find and after a few more minutes of searching you find a drawer full of simple cotton tunics. It’s probably the most comfortable you’d been in weeks.

It’s such a breath of fresh air you wonder why you hadn’t looked for simpler clothes sooner. Now when you walk to the mirror it is a familiar figure.

It’s you.

It’s almost enough to bring a smile to your face.

Almost.

As you organize the drawers you're pleased to find a lot more pants and shirts, you set them aside in piles, you were going to convince the girls to let you wear these outside your room, even if it was for just a day or two out of the week. You never saw anyone anyway, there was no need for you to be wearing gowns and heels to the library to read everyday. The only person you see is the Mandalorian.

“I don’t want you.”

You couldn’t become any less attractive to him at this point so who cares. Besides, you like the way you look in these clothes, it’s how you used to dress at home. It was too cold for frilly dresses and it would have been impractical to get so done up on a day to day basis. Something about the familiarity of it all seems to help push you into the next stage of grief because suddenly you’re angry at him.

What gave him the right to do what he’s done? To make you like him just so he could get his dick wet? If he had wanted that he could have just had it, you had been rather attracted to him physically early on, it probably would have been better that way but no, he had to go and make it personal.

So you’re angry.

And not just petty surface level anger, this is something new. Something you don’t even feel towards Kodo. This is deep rooted and raw. He had cut you open and laid you bare for him to see, he went through to pick and choose what parts he wanted and left you to try and survive with what remained.

And what remained was furious.

It doesn’t feel as good as it did last time you hated him. Last time it was almost fun because you hated him for being annoying. Now there is a deep sorrow in your anger. Last time there was the entertaining prospect of scheming his downfall, and there was teasing and conversation. This anger eats away at your insides. It doesn’t demand satisfaction, it just rests in your stomach and consumes you.

It consumes you so much that you feel sick. You don’t know when you sat down on the floor but when you come to your senses it’s dark out. You push open the windows. Desperate to get some air into the room, it works, for a moment. But everything is too much right now and without thinking you decide you need to get out of here, go get a book, maybe one of the boring history books Mando’s always reading. You pull open the doors to your chambers without a second thought and you’re taken aback by the sight of what stands before you.

Actually, what sits before you. The Mandalorian is sitting on the floor. His back resting on your door, at least it was before you opened it. He’s looking up at you and you know it’s impossible with the helmet but you swear he looks embarrassed.

Your instinct is to crack a joke, or at the very least ask what he’s doing, it’s the middle of the night, he never stands guard over night.

But that isn’t your relationship anymore. So you just sidestep him and make your way to the library, you don’t protest when he follows behind you. It’s the strangest thing but in the two days without him you had missed your shadow. The presence of him walking a few steps behind, you hadn’t even realized that was something you’d grown fond of. You shake the thought out of your head as you descend the stairs.

You don’t acknowledge him and you don’t acknowledge the way your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. This is a quick in and out task, you’ll get a book to help relax your mind so you can sleep.

You squint in the darkness of the shelves. Maker, you should have brought a glowrod, or a lamp with you at the very least. It’s useless, you can’t make out any of the titles so instead you grab the two books off one of the tables that you’d seen him reading a week ago. You shove them under your arm and hurry back to your room. Neither of you say a word about the encounter as you shut the door behind you.

You hear the soft clunk of metal on wood just before you shut yourself in the closet.

His helmet leaned on the door again.

Huh. Maybe Kodo had recently requested he guard you at night as well. You aren’t going to ask him what he’s doing. You aren’t going to do anything.

You close the closet door. You turn on one dim lap as you put on pajamas and sit in your blankets, picking up the first book to take your mind off things.

A Deep Dive Into the History of Classic Ships and Speeders

Yeah you’re not reading that. You’re bored just looking at it so you toss it to the side and hope the other book is less of a dud. it’s bookmarked near the end and you worry that maybe he’s still reading this one but then you remember he doesn’t care about you so why should you care for him. Your eyes scan the title.

Wild Flowers & Flora of Naboo : A Beginner’s Guide for the Identification of the Planets Native Plants

You think back to when you had asked him so many questions when he’d taken you to the garden and he never knew the answers. You always thought he seemed upset with himself over that.

This is what he had been reading all those quiet days together in the library. You flip to the bookmark. You recognize the flower being showcased on the page immediately. You had pointed the patch of them out because the petals were an identical match for the shade of pink your dress had been that day.

Your heart skips a beat. Which makes you feel sick.

Even after he ended things he’s still messing with your head.

Then again, this is not a small book by any means and the bookmarked page is near the end. He must have read quite a lot of it…

No.

No doing this. Hoping. Not anymore. You can admit to yourself now that you liked him, and had a little crush. But he hadn’t liked you back. He didn’t want you, he was just bored. You need to remember that.

You don’t feel like reading anymore.

So you let your mind go blank as you lay down and close your eyes, hoping for a dreamless sleep.

Of course you aren’t that lucky.

And even worse is the contents of your dream.

You wish they were carnal and needy like they usually are, you would trade the dream you have for a hundred gut wrenchingly painful erotic dreams.

Because this dream is warm, and soft, and above all this dream is familiar.

This dream is kisses on your thighs, and they aren’t sexual, they don’t insist on more. They’re soft and chaste and leave a lingering scratch of stubble.

This dream is him embracing you. Holding you like he did when you gave him his birthday.

And he doesn’t ask for more, he just holds you, his hands roam your back but they don’t push for anything other than your company.

This dream is him sitting across from you in the library in silence. But the silence isn’t forced, it’s comfortable and domestic. And you both read your respective books as the sunlight shines in through the windows of the nook.

And worst of all this dream is the garden. It’s him giving you the one thing you’d wanted since you were a little girl, real flowers, and playing the game, and sitting in the gazebo watching the pond ripple.

It’s promises of more good days, it’s books with little messages scrawled inside and it’s whispers in Mando’a.

When you wake there’s a dull ache in your chest. You’ve always slept alone yet your makeshift bed feels emptier than ever.

The girls dress you in silence. Like they can sense something is wrong.

You don’t want to leave. You don’t want to have to face him but you know it’s inevitable. So you suck it up. You’ll do what you’ve always done and you’ll go to the library and read.

And you won’t look at him. You won’t talk to him. You won’t even acknowledge that he’s there.

You give yourself one last look in the mirror. Elaine and Lysa really matched your mood with the dark gray dress you find yourself in. You look empty. Like there isn’t any life behind your eyes.

You have to look away from your hollow reflection.

Taking a deep breath you open the doors and there he is. As constant as ever he stands against the opposite wall from your door and you give him no more than a glance as you turn on your heel towards the library.

You can do this, this is simple and easy and you are more than capable of handling this.

His presence is stifling.

You can’t escape the feeling of his eyes on you and if you don’t think of something fast you’re gonna snap at him and you know you can’t take another argument right now.

Make a list.

Stick to a list.

Walk, sit, read. It's simple, you can do that.

You manage to walk to the library with no issues; it's the second task on your list that causes immediate problems.

Because your instinct is to sit in the nook, you walk there purely on muscle memory. But the moment you look at it your brain short circuits.

Metal, gunpowder, leather.

There’s suddenly a lump in your throat.

“Are you paying attention, mesh’la?”

Your bodice must be laced too tight. Your breath picks up as your heart threatens to burst from your chest. The feeling of phantom touches roaming your body, gloved hands hiking up your skirt, is suffocating.

“What is it, copikla?”

You need to breathe. You’ve only just started the day, you’re pleading with your lungs to take in air, your eyes locked on the nook. He has to know what’s got you rattled, he’s standing right behind you.

Why did you leave your room? You weren’t ready for this, two days wasn’t enough, how are you supposed to deal with the million different thoughts that are screaming for the spotlight right now in your mind? One thought seems to be pushing itself to the front, demanding your attention.

What if no one ever makes you feel like that again?

You can’t cry. He’ll look at you like you’re pathetic if you cry at the sight of somewhere he fucked you. That’s all he did, for Makers sake, he fucked you.

It shouldn’t feel like a place where he loved you.

When you close your eyes you can feel the stubble pressing against your inner thigh accompanied by a kiss.

Stars, keep your eyes open.

You finally remember how to breathe but the breaths come out short and shallow and you need to come up with an escape plan or something because otherwise you’ll be petrified in place for the rest of the day.

Suddenly you don’t need a plan though.

Because there’s a hand on your lower back.

His hand.

It gently pushes you to a different part of the library. He doesn’t say anything, the modulator doesn’t crackle, he just guides you to a different spot. A chair and a table, the nook is out of sight from here and you can breathe properly again.

His hand is gone too soon as he gently pushes down on your shoulders to make you sit. His touches are featherlight, like you’re made of glass. Right now you might be. He takes a step back and you regain your composure like it never happened.

Walk, sit, read.

Well, you really fucked up the second task on your list.

And you don’t do well on the third.

You reach towards the closest shelf and grab the first book your fingers touch. It’s some sort of mystery novel, you can’t focus on the words. Your brain feels fried and you’re still processing the last few minutes. He’s leaning against one of the shelves, his helmet facing away, almost like he’s giving you privacy to collect yourself.

You take a deep breath and let your eyes scan the page but you just can’t bring yourself to read. Your mind is too foggy, your heart still racing, you sigh as you set the book down on the table.

You need a simpler task. Something that will occupy your brain enough that you don’t have to think of anything else but doesn’t require too much critical thinking. You turn to face Mando directly for the first time since your… break up? Is that what it’s called when you weren’t necessarily romantically involved but were friends who were physically involved but also you might have romantic feelings for him?

Now you’re just confusing yourself.

It doesn’t matter because you’re looking at him and you immediately recognize that his posture is different. The two of you have spent a lot of time staring at each other, you know how he stands. Tall and proud, always.

But not now, now he looks like a scolded child, staring out a window to avoid meeting your gaze lest you reprimand him further.

You really want to hate him. You want to hate him so badly right now but it’s like trying to hate a wounded puppy.

How is he so damn expressive behind a layer of steel?

You need to speak to him.

If he’s going to insist on being your bodyguard you’re going to have to learn to live with each other in this new dynamic he’s created.

So you need to speak to him.

Rip off the bandaid, why wait any longer? It's going to happen eventually. It should be something thoughtful and well articulated.

“Could you get Leo for me?” Your voice is hoarse from sitting in silence for two days and the words tumble from your lips before you can stop them and he’s quick to nod and rush out.

Bodyguard, rival, friend, protector, confidant, lover, guy who you’ve had mind blowing sex with that you’re suddenly nervous to ask simple things from.

Maker, you’re a mess.

Alarmingly fast he’s back with Leodall hot on his heels.

“My lady, how may I be of service.” Always straight to the point with him.

“Could you bring me a book from my quarters, the one on ships, and some parchment and pens please?”

“Right away ma’am.” And as quickly as he arrived he’s gone.

This is the part where Mando usually asks what you’re up to. Except he doesn’t.

So he’ll touch you and help you when you're frozen in time staring at the scene of one of your sexual adventures on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but he won’t ask what you plan on doing with his book.

This new situation is going to be way harder to navigate.

You look to see what the Mandalorian seems so fascinated by outside the window but it’s just sky and clouds.

Maybe your new situation is avoiding conversation.

That’s probably why he had ushered you away from the nook. Not because he cared but because he didn’t want to talk about it.

Okay, you can do that. Avoid confrontation at all costs.

It’s probably for the best anyway.

When Leo comes back with your requested items you thank him as he leaves and you open to a random page and start trying to copy the exact images of the ship.

Busy work.

It’s boring in the beginning. Mindless scribbling to keep your brain occupied as you try to sketch every detail you can. Eventually it’s almost fun, seeing how closely you can get them to look to the original image, you draw dozens of ships, occupying most of your day as you proudly spread them out on the table.

Every so often you’ll catch a glint of silver and you know he’s watching you, you never turn to meet his gaze.

You can pretend he isn’t. That’s what’s easiest. Because he doesn’t care, he made that clear. He doesn’t care. (Even though he won’t stop looking at you.)

Don’t focus on him, don’t focus on anything but your drawings.

You pick out your favorites, the Naboo royal cruiser, the YT-1300 light freighter, the ST-70 class Razor Crest M-111, and a T-47 air speeder. You can’t help but feel a genuine pride as you stare at the drawings. They’re messy and on most of them you’ve smeared the ink but they’re recognizable and it’s nice to actually feel like you’ve accomplished something. It’s easy for the days to blend together when you do the same thing over and over and over again but this is real. You can touch and see the drawings you did, physical evidence that you did something other than finish another book.

It’s hard to really appreciate what you’ve done when you’re also pretending that you don’t see him staring right at you.

He pretends that he doesn’t care about what you’re doing. (Rather poorly.)

And you pretend you don’t notice him gawking at you.

You need to stop thinking about him and his staring problem so you find another book, something bulky with pictures.

The Illustrated History of Blasters : From Pistols to Rifles

And you start from the beginning, just scribbling sketches of every gun there’s a picture for. You don’t really care much for blasters but the illustrations are so complicated you can’t help but try and match the attention to detail.

It’s late when you finish the first section of the book. You haven’t even gotten past pistols as you stifle a yawn.

He seemingly hasn’t moved an inch, aside from the glances in your direction that you brushed off.

Even with the circumstances you can’t help but wish he would just say something, literally anything. He could tell you that your drawings are shit and honestly you’d just be happy to hear his voice. But of course he doesn’t. Because you aren’t anything to him.

Maybe he’s pretending too.

You have no reason to believe he is, he’s shown no interest in you or reconciliation since he ended things, other than his persistent presence. You can’t think of a reason why he would end things and not mean what he said.

But you like to think that he’s pretending.

It makes this easier in your mind if it’s not that he doesn’t want to be with you, it’s that he can’t.

It’s harmless.

Imagining such a thing, as long as you don’t let yourself get caught up in another fantasy. This isn’t real, it’s just something to help you stomach the harsh reality of being undesirable to him.

So you pretend that his glances are those of want, that maybe deep down he might actually care for you.

You pretend that he regrets his decision, that he misses you even though he’s spent all day right next to you.

You pretend that he secretly wishes he was walking beside you instead of behind you as you return to your chambers. And you pretend that he wants you to invite him in but some secret invisible reason that you don’t know about is holding him back.

But it’s all just pretend.

You need to remind yourself of that.

You can do this. You can have more days like this.

Drawing to keep your mind from wandering and when it does you can pretend. It isn’t an ideal way of living but for now you have to manage until you figure out where to go from here.

You slip out of your gown after fighting to unlace it yourself for a few minutes and decide to just sleep in your undergarments as you make your way to the closet.

You pretend you don’t hear that soft clunk of Beskar against your door.

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

#lincolndjarin #the mandalorian #best kept secret #bks #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #RE UPLOAD

230 notes · View notes

selarina · 10 months

Text

→ Suna Rintaro x Fem!Reader

Summary: When a guy asks for your number, you sternly insist on a condition that leads to unexpected love.

Content Warning: Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, Highly Suggestive, Canon-Compliant, Swearing, Social Media AU, Drinking, NSFW, exhibitionism-ish, possibly red flag behavior, dark humor, mention of killing people as a joke

Series Masterlist

Chapter 7: Hoodie

Written Portion Below

(Feel free to skip past the first half if you're not comfortable with a suggestive scene. And please, read the updated warnings above.)

You start to pick the sides of your nail, no longer able to just fiddle with your rings. You're late but the line of other late people in front of you is deliberately making you more and more anxious.

You want to reach your seat before the commercials stop.

You notice a sea of people already settled in their seats, and your eyes immediately scale up to the back to try and find him, but you can't. The lights are too dim to make out any faces.

You start walking, find the empty spot next to him, and swiftly seat yourself.

Feeling a presence approaching, he turns his head discreetly, a grin forming on his lips when you finally sit.

"All that talk about me being late," he teases, as you deftly shift your bag onto his lap. He holds onto your bag as you put your hoodie on.

You hold out your hand, for him to slip the bag back into your hand and he goes still for a moment, looking at your neck? You look down, confused if you had something on you but he motions that it's okay and holds onto your bag on his lap.

You shrug. "Intermission popcorn's on me," you whisper in his ear before swiftly placing a soft peck on his cheeks.

You slump back in your seat, all comfortable this time. The commercials are still going on in the blur of the background, but you barely register any of it. You turn, and you're a little happy there are not many people in the back row, except for that one old guy in the very corner. The minutes pass as the movie begins.

You're well into the beginning of the movie, the protagonists are established, and you come to think if you should have asked your friend what the movie was about as it seems to be leaning towards a romantic thriller, while you thought it was something akin to a horror movie. But you find it intriguing enough nonetheless but the darkness does make you feel a little sleepy but the loud sounds of the speakers keep you awake enough.

You didn't immediately notice but you've been playing with the rings on Suna's fingers. You're usually one with a need to fiddle with something while sitting still for this long, but that's why you wore your rings maybe because you were so in your own head, you forgot to notice your hands reaching for his. Or maybe his hand reached out to yours.

Once he notices your hands stilling against his. His fingers slide fully over yours, folding around them, offering a reassuring squeeze before his grip loosens and comes to rest casually on your leg.

You smile, because you think it was sweet. But in retrospect, it was anything but. Not when he started spreading the span of his hand over your upper thigh as his fingers begin to stroke gently against you.

You lean towards him, and lean to ask him in a low breathy voice, "What are you doing?"

"Hm?" He hums, "Nothing," he feigns innocence, but his hands don't stop their ministrations.

“Okay,” you respond rather raggedly. His hands shift up, only to fumble through higher and higher up, and you hold your breath in anticipation, but his hand stills so you find yourself holding your breath.

You pray that he stops and doesn’t dare stray any further, but at the same time, you hope that he does stray a lot further than is appropriate. You swallow dryly, your head turning to the old man who seems to be engrossed in the movie. You relax.

And just when you think he's about to do something he pulls his hand away, to your dismay. His hand moves up to rest against the armchair. But the damage seems to be already been done. You find yourself obscenely horny for the rest of the first half of the movie.

—

It's intermission, and you're annoyed at Suna fucking Rintaro and his measly long fingers.

"I'm not getting you popcorn anymore," you pout, your arms come to cross around you as the two of walk out to the popcorn aisle.

''Oh?" He smugly, "I think I'll survive."

You groan, "What was that even about anyway?"

He raises his eyebrows, a hint of concern. "Was that not okay?"

You look away, annoyed but mostly flustered, "I didn't say that."

He doesn't say anything after, and the two of you walk back to your seats in silence.

You already start munching on the popcorn, as soon as you sit. You think it's almost about time the movie starts when he tugs on your hoodie.

You look at him, a bit surprised. "Yeah?" you lean in a bit further towards him to ask him what's wrong.

"Is this yours?" He asks, tugging once again at your hoodie.

"No, it's not?" You say, a little confused. "It's yours."

"It''s not mine."

"Huh," it takes you a second before you raise your eyebrows in recognition. "Oh, fuck. I must have taken the other one," you say.

He tilts his head, he seems plainly confused.

"I have three similar hoodies, including yours. Must have gotten confused," you explain.

He nods in understanding, "Oh, whose is it then?"

Yeah, you were hoping he wouldn't ask. "Yeah, it's my ex's," sheepishly. You should have paid more attention.

"Oh," he says but you can't really make out what he's thinking.

"You said three hoodies. You starting a collection of some sort?" There's an undertone of amusement, but there's a soft tint of curiosity, and something else entirely.

Your eyebrows furrow, "The third one's mine. But yeah, I really should find a place to hide your body now that I've secured the jacket."

He tilts his head, a lot more animatedly than the first time he was confused.

You continue, "Yeah, I like to collect Kendrick Lamar hoodies from my victims, before I — you know," your finger coming up to your neck to gesture slitting your throat.

"Ah, Kendrick Lamar hoodies as a trophy. Aren't you the most unique killer in the block," he says, in false praise as you start laughing.

"Besides, dying at your hand? Quite the honor," he wistfully sighs, as he slumps back into his seat with a hand on his chest.

You grin, as you ruffle his hair in tandem.

The movie starts again a while later, and you take off your hoodie, placing it on the empty seat beside you. This time, your hands come up to his on the armchair, slipping in between his fingers as the movie passes.

TAGLIST: @wolffmaiden @tenaciouswritersheep @90s-belladonna @alienvarmint @kodzuchim @themoonreflectsthesun @baramii @haruskatana @rukia-uchiha-98 @aimno256 @userwithlotsoftime @userwithlotsoftime @alldaladiesloveleooo @iluv-ace @noideawhothatis @vivian-555 @buggy-cj @butterscotch-ripple-icecream @cloudsvna @zukowantshishonourback @rory-cakes @shookykookie30 @2baddies-1porsche @thechaosoflonging @rntrsuna @ahnneyong @saiewithakatana @sukunasrealgf

A/N: GUYS DO NOT DO THIS IN MOVIE THEATRES.

This is the worst thing I've ever written. Don't look at me. But also find yourself a man that is honored to be killed by you. Have a good weekend mwah.

#suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro fic #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyu x reader #suna rintaro smau #suna rintaro smut #haikyuu smau series #haikyuu smau #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro angst #suna x reader #suna x y/n #suna x you #suna x reader smau #suna rinatro x reader smut

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lokisprettygirl · 3 months

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Deadly Locks (Detective! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon Au) (Dark )

Read Chapter 5 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 6

Summary: New detective gets assigned to the case but he's not there to help Daemon.

Trigger Warning: Rape and torture, 18+ , smut, It's a crime thriller so there would be some squeamish dark stuff, read at your own discretion, mention of rape, assault and murder, Speeding and driving under the influence, Reader has long hair, Daemon's hair is up for imagination, Cigarette consumption, some geographical errors

You were fidgeting with your dress repeatedly so he linked his fingers with yours to stop you and knocked on the door of his mother's house. Not that he really was keen on doing this but when her mother found out that he was dating a girl for months, she wanted to meet her desperately and she kept insisting until he gave in to her nagging.

He had never brought his girlfriends to see his mother but his mother somehow always got in touch with women he was interested in, as unfortunate as he found his looks in the mirror he always slept around with women as pretty as his mother, women who hurt him in the earliest opportunity they got, he was just another guy, an escape from their broken lives or just someone to kill time with until they found better options.

They all looked similar in a way but none of them were you.

You were an angel, his own angel, not a day has gone by in the past eight months where he didn't feel appreciated or cared for by you. He just hoped he was giving the same love in return.

He had never been loved this way so it took a lot of self adjustment in the beginning to believe that you really wanted to be with someone who wasn't worth your time, a girl like you deserved the best and he wasn't. He could never be but then he didn't want you to leave him either.

As his mother opened the door she immediately wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in for a tight hug.

“Oh my baby, i have missed you” she mumbled in glee and excitement, completely ignoring your existence which you didn't mind at first but after what he had told you about his strained relationship with his mother, this warm greeting seemed a bit surprising...

Throughout the dinner she kept calling him her baby, her boy, she kept dousing him in affection he most certainly didn't seem to like. He had a tough life growing up, his father died when he was just ten and his mother was sent to a psychiatrist hospital when he was fourteen. He had never really gone into detail till now about what had happened between them so you didn't really know enough.

As he received a call he excused himself and you were left alone with his mother. Seeing her you could tell she was an extremely gorgeous woman in her prime, her genes combined with his father's, it wasn't a wondering thought that he looked so uniquely beautiful like that.

“So my son seems very fond of you y/n” she said to you so you gave her a smile as you helped her with the dishes.

“Well I hope so, I'm very fond of him too” you mumbled softly but she glared at you in response. You were kind of intimidated by her considering her history. Daemon had told you that she was better now that she was taking her medications regularly but you still felt wary of her.

“Be careful with my boy though, my son is very fragile in such matters, his last girlfriend ditched him after they began to have physical relations..she said he was very bad in bed”

Well this wasn't an appropriate choice of conversation right? Why was she talking about him like that?

“I don't intend to leave him, I love him Mrs Targaryen and for your information he's amazing in everything he does” she chuckled as you said that.

“Really? A woman like you? I don't believe that” you raised your brows as she said that.

“Excuse me?”

“No need to kid ourselves, women like us want a perfect life, perfect men and my son ..he's not the manliest man out there is he now–”

“I apologize but you're being very inappropriate right now. There's nothing wrong with him.. not a thing, he's the sweetest most gentle man i have ever known in my life after my father so you don't really know what you're talking about and I'd appreciate it if you would stop putting down your son in such a manner”

On the way back home you weren't saying much and he was stressed, the issues he had because of his mother was a driving factor in why some of those women he tried to date left him behind but he couldn't imagine losing you too.

He pulled over on an empty deserted road to talk to you and that snapped you out of your thoughts.

“What did she say to you?” He asked you, worried that she might have told you about what she had done to him when he was a child. He wanted to be the one to tell you everything, he just wasn't ready yet.

“Nothing.. really” you said to him so he looked down and when he looked up his eyes were teary “What is it baby?” You asked him and you took your seat belt off to climb on his lap as you noticed him feeling down.

“Is it okay between us? You feel the same way as you did before you met her?” he asked you so you cupped his cheeks and gave him a smile

“No..i feel different” he looked up at you as you said that “I feel more protective of you now, it must not have been easy growing up around her” he wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly as you said that and when he pulled away you kissed him as tenderly as you could but then things heated up quickly, they always did with him, he was simply irresistible whenever you were this close to him.

Every sense of his was in perfect sync with yours.

Hands moved quickly as he rode your dress up and pulled your panties to the side while you unzipped him and pulled out his hard cock to ride away all the bad feelings he had in the moment.

Your hips moved slowly and lips latched to the side of his neck as you marked his soft satin skin.

“Oh darling i love you..” he mumbled as he lowered down the straps of your dress and then moved his hand down to cup one of your breasts,

“I love you my pretty boy” his breath shuddered as you said that “that alright? I can call you that?”

He had mommy issues, as much as he had wanted to deny and ignore all the necessary psychiatric sessions he have had in life he knew he had issues that were rooted so deeply in him by his own mother.

“Am I though? Is that how you feel or you're just trying to make me feel better?” He asked you so you cupped his cheeks and kissed him before you responded to him.

“I'm trying to show you that I love you so much and that you're all I need. You're everything in one man, all that sweetness, that rugged handsomeness, that pretty face, that soft heart that you carry despite having a tough life, you're what dreams are made of and i can't believe I have found you”

He was stunned for a moment before he curled his fingers in your long locks and kissed you passionately.

When later he had revealed to you about what he had been through because of his mother, everything made sense, his insecurities, his behavior around pretty women that resembled his mother, everything connected.

*******

You looked around and he was standing in the corner of a room seemingly stressed and deep in his head so you excused yourself away from Donna and Torres and walked towards him.

“Everything okay?” You asked him so he gave you a smile. He wasn't okay, he just had a very disturbing conversation with a very disturbing man but he didn't want to stress you, especially now when you had come out of the house after such a long time.

“I'm okay, you're having fun?”

“It's …fine. Ummm would you like to dance with me?” You asked him and his brows scrunched in response but then a smile graced his lips. Christmas music was playing in the background so he stepped closer to you and took a hold of your hands to pull you closer to him.

“How's your mother doing?’ you asked him so he shrugged in response.

“I haven't seen her in a while”

“Okay”

He was going to say something to you but then he saw Jake entering the party with Rebecca, as his date or his girlfriend and his mood shifted suddenly. You were surprised to see him with her as well but it didn't really affect you in the way it did Daemon. At Least she wasn't hitting on him anymore, people would think that two women who came out alive and well after such hell would form a strong bond with each other but you and Rebecca never even had a proper conversation after that.

“You knew about that?” You asked him so he shook his head in response. He hadn't told you that she had tried to kiss him recently and now seeing him with Jake made him feel conflicted. Did she even like the guy or was she trying to stay around Daemon himself? He knew that was a possibility, he understood obsession, he had been around it all his life.

“You must be starving darling..go get dinner with your friends. I have to make a few calls” he said to you but he wasn't even looking at you, he was looking at Jake so you hummed in response and as you turned away he grabbed your arm and turned you toward him “Hey I'm right here…I'm not going anywhere”

“Okay..i ..thank you” you mumbled softly as you gave him a smile. He really was trying his best.

As Jake approached Daemon, he observed that Rebecca was clinging to him but she had her eyes on Daemon throughout the night.

Daemon was worried about Jake but he didn't want to interfere in his personal life. Later that night Otto introduced Detective Corlys Velaryon who had just transferred from London to assist Daemon with the case. He seemed like a smug bastard to him but that feeling could have been due to his personal biases.

“I have got my eyes on you” Corlys said to him so Daemon looked at him confused.

“What does that even mean?” He asked the man but only received a cryptic answer in response that he didn't really understand that night.

On the way back home he was quiet again, you had met the new detective that was on the case now and he had asked to take your statement tomorrow again. You knew Daemon was really worried about his position in the police department, this case was the case of his life and now a new shiny detective had joined him and that really wasn't a good look on him. He had worked hard and sacrificed enough to get where he was.

Next morning when you woke up he wasn't at home but he had left a note behind for you to tell you that he had to be at work early. He had slept in his room last night with you, the bedsheet was still creased on his side of the bed so you ran your fingers over the spot. It was getting more and more difficult to be so close to him and not being able to touch him or kiss him the way you used to before. It reminded you of the early stages of your relationship with him---

Daemon was a nice guy, that you knew, so nice that it has been three months and you both haven't done it yet. Of course you made out with him heavily but every time you grabbed his crotch to entice him further he'd put a stop to it. He was a nice guy but he frustrated you at times.

You crawled on top of him so he wrapped his hands around your hips to kiss you, you were on his couch, had just finished a movie together and you really needed his kiss, his touch. Desperately.

“You're such a good kisser” you mumbled against his mouth and he couldn't help but smile, he had never been told these things about himself until he met you.

“Is that so?”

“Mmmhmm…and you smell so good all the time”

“It's the perfume i promise” you giggled as he said that.

Swirling your hips on his crotch you humped him slightly and he let out a loud moan but then he placed his hands on your hips to stop you.

“Please baby…let me do this..give me something, just a taste”

You couldn't believe how whiny your voice had come out, you were on the verge of begging him.

“What if I'm not good at this?” you looked at him curiously as he said that.

“Why would you say that?”

“You'd not like me anymore if I'm not what you have imagined in your head-”

“And what is it that you think I imagine in my head?” You asked him so he sighed.

“I don't know..every woman is different”

“And?”

“I just.. want you to take your time with me…get to know me and love me, and i know this is important, sex is important but- perhaps if you loved me enough you'd be willing to let go of things I don't do right in…umm bed” your brows furrowed as he said that.

“Is that why you have been stalling it? So if the sex is bad I won't leave?”

“I won't blame you if you do-”

“Why do you think you'd be bad at it baby??” You asked him softly as you caressed his cheeks.

“I never know what to do..”

“You're not a Virgin right? It's okay if you are..i just want to know”

“No i…have done it but it wasn't good for the women I was with”

“They told you that?”

“Well one did, the others just stayed quiet and then they ghosted me”

“What do you think it is that you did wrong baby?” you kept your voice tender to not make him feel as if you were judging him, you were just trying to make him open up to you.

“I was too soft, too …normal”

“Some women like that you know”

“Do you?”

“I like all kinds of things”

“Like what? BDSM and stuff?” The way he looked so curious and so innocent when he questioned you made your heart all warm and fuzzy for him.

“What is it that you like, baby?”

“Whatever you'd want.. I'll do it, I just need to be told sometimes”

“And that's how it should be, that's how it's supposed to be, communication is important in bed”

“Yeah?” he said so you nodded in response.

“You didn't answer me” you said to him so he looked at you all wide eyed and perplexed.

“What?”

“What do you like in bed?” You scratched his scalp as you questioned him, his cheeks had gone red as felt on the spot. He had never communicated this way before.

“I like normal, i have thought about you and me” you smiled as he said that

“Mmmhmmm what have you thought about?” you asked as your thumb ran over his plump lips and his breath hitched visibly.

“About loving you and fucking you”

“Mmmmhm do you touch yourself when you're thinking of me?” You mumbled in his ears and he moaned as your hips rolled on his bulge,

“Sometimes..yeah..I do..all the time”

“That's hot.. I like that”

“Really? It's not creepy?”

“It'd be creepy if you weren't thinking about me” you giggled and that made him smile “Where do you do it? On the bed or in the shower? When you're touching yourself do you think of me being there with you?” you asked him and watched his cheeks flush again

“Everywhere..i picture you all naked , your beautiful body rubbing against me..and you're always doing naughty shameful things with me..is that okay?” he murmured against your mouth and you couldn't help but moan in response.

“I'm so obsessed with you my officer– can't you tell by the way I'm so desperate for you?”

He gulped as you said that, his throat went dry at the thought of a pretty girl like you saying such things to him. The more you moved on top of him the more those sensations built in the pit of your stomachs. The way you felt, the sounds you made only made him more and more aroused if it was even possible.

“I'm obsessed with you as well, I think about you all the time and even more so when I'm all alone in bed at nights” you bit on your lips as he said that, you couldn't help but picture his naked body on his bed as he played with himself and thought of you in such obscene ways.

“How's it in your dreams baby? Do you love me softly or you're rough with me?”

“Soft..I like that, I want to treat you the way I feel about you. Love you and protect you even when we are making love. However that is not to say that I won't go to any lengths you want me to just to satisfy you”

“And I need it all from you baby, you act this way and then you fear that you'd not be good at it. I can tell just by the way you speak to me is that you're going to blow my mind in all sorts of ways..oh god yess” you moaned loudly as your orgasm swept over you. He held your hips and helped you move as you rode your high, he couldn't take his eyes off you or the way you seemed so lost in the pleasure at the moment. Once you calmed down a little he grabbed the back of your neck with one of his hands to kiss you deeply.

“What if you're wrong? What if I'm not all that?” You smiled as he asked you that.

“Then I'll teach you baby..I'll teach you everything”

****

Daemon was at his mother's house and he couldn't stop glaring at her as she prepared tea for him. When she couldn't take his eyes on him anymore she spoke,

“What do you want, baby?” She asked him so he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“What is it that I don't know about your life huh? What are you hiding?” He asked her a riddling question but the way she began to fiddle and sweat was somehow similar to how the suspects behaved whenever they were guilty.

“What do you even mean baby?”

“Stop calling me baby ..I'm not a fucking baby..answer my damn questions mother”

He raised his voice and she was taken aback by his tone, she had put him through hell and back, she knew that too but she was sick before, she got medicated, she got better and Daemon had never talked to her this way, he kept his distance and didn't get emotionally attached to her but he never raised his voice like that

“Get out of my house” she told him sternly so he chuckled before he turned around and left. He knew she was hiding something from him, the way the killer talked to him made him believe that there was something personally linked between him and the killer.

As he reached the precinct his day only got worse. Corlys made him sit down in the enquiry room to ask him questions about the case, the discussion could have happened on their desks itself.

“Wait, am I under the investigation? I am being recorded?” He asked Corlys to which Corlys answered with a smile.

“I have every reason to do so young man..you know the drill, just answer the questions and you have right to the lawyer if you feel the need”

“This is ridiculous. Does Otto know?” Daemon glared at him and the smile on Corlys's face was replaced with anger.

“Of course he does. Tell me something, I'm reading the witness report here, the surviving victims Rebecca and y/n stated that their assailant had hazel eyes?” Daemon couldn't help but chuckle at the accusation.

“Yeah, so do the million other people on earth. Your point?”

“Nothing. It's interesting, don't you think?”

“Well that's something i needed to–” Daemon was trying to tell him about the call he received but Corlys cut him off midway.

“Don't interrupt me. Answer what you are being asked..“Y/n Y/l/n ..the surviving victim..saw her yesterday at the Christmas party with you. Are you dating one of the victims?” Daemon's jaw clenched as he mentioned you.

“I'm not dating her, I have known her for seven years”

“Oh so she's a friend?”

“She was a girlfriend, that ended two years ago”

“I see, so was she the one to do the leaving?”

“That's none of your business “

“It is my business, must have hurt huh, especially after the life you had. Oh yes, I went through your whole life history. Abused child of a mother who wanted to turn him into a girl–”

“That has nothing to do-”

“Kids bullied you mercilessly in school when they found out about your mother. Got arrested for selling drugs at fifteen. Three years in juvenile detention and with your history they went easy on you. Then you applied for the forces but got rejected continuously for years which led you to do low level jobs until you were finally taken in for the traffic officer post, am i right?”

“Correct”

“All of this must make you angry huh, the constant abuse and rejection, hell broke loose when the only woman who cared enough about you also left you” Daemon slammed his fist on the table as Coryls kept riling him up.

“You're talking shit you know that? I can't begin to tell you how wrong you are”

“Am i though? Tell me why is it that those three women died so brutally and then you somehow..magically received a tip that too anonymously when your ex girlfriend was taken?”

“I am refusing to speak without my lawyer”

He knew whatever he says now will be somehow used against him. He couldn't believe he was under suspicion after all these years in the service but then Corlys's questions made sense. Nobody had seen the barber killer, he was the one to bump into him, he had the similar build as the killer in the footage he had taken out from Tesco, he had similar eyes that both surviving victims had mentioned, he was the one to clue the word mother together, he was the one to receive the location and unluckily for him the killer was gone when the team had arrived at the location, no trace of DNA was recovered from the victims or the killer's lair.

In the lights of everything he truly seemed like a suspect. The abuse he had suffered due to his mother only added the fuel to the burning fire, his past pointed towards him being a troubled and disturbed man from deep within who must despise young beautiful women and perhaps he finally snapped when he got his heart broken.

“I had high hopes for you as a detective, but here you are just seeing what's in front of you and what is so painfully obvious” Daemon said to him to which Corlys responded with a smile.

“Don't you worry, Targaryen.. I'll get to the root of it and I'll make sure you're rotting behind the bars by the time I'm done with you”

Corlys spoke to him before Daemon got up and left the room. On the way out Otto looked at him with sympathy but Daemon ignored him and went to his desk. He felt everyone's eyes on him and that made him feel like that kid in school who got bullied everyday. They were talking about him behind his back, raising questions on his integrity and character.

He knew his seniors would try to get him off the case now that the conflict of interest could arise since apparently he was a suspect himself now. The only suspect.

He saw Rebecca coming in for the questioning later and she gave him a sly smile before she went in, and then he saw you enter the station. You looked at him but before he could say anything to you they took you in for the questioning.

Corlys's first few questions were generic, the same as Daemon had asked before to you but then things took a turn,

“Why do you think it is that the killer went easy on you but he made Rebecca's life hell in there?” Corlys asked you so you looked at him.

“He said it was because she screamed alot and I didn't –”

“So you took it and didn't complain, is what you're saying?”

Your eyes teared up as he said that.

“Yes”

He asked you a few more questions to which you responded with simply yes or no, he was trying to divert the questions towards Daemon and it was only when you went home was when you realized what was happening in there. They were trying to frame Daemon for these murders, there was a killer on the loose out there and they were trying to frame an innocent man.

And apparently Rebecca had said some incriminating stuff about Daemon in her statement as well which only made things worse for him.

“Daemon” you entered his room because you felt really worried about him, he was standing near the window just staring outside mindlessly so you walked closer to him and stood next to him. “I'm so sorry for what–”

“Do you think I could do this to you? Hurt you the way that–” He couldn't even finish his words, his voice was low and eyes welled up as he spoke to you so you meddled yourself between the window and his body to cup his cheeks and wipe his tears.

“He raped me” he wrapped his arms around you to hug you as you said that and that's when he broke down finally.

“He beat me up the first night, stripped me naked and then he raped me” you pulled away from him to cup his cheeks, fingers continuously wiped his tears as you did “He was on top of me for days, sometimes several times a day, he was all in my face, do you think i wouldn't recognise you if it was you?” He looked at you as you said that. He was afraid that you'd doubt him too, that you would look at him suspiciously and would be afraid to be around him now.

“You really think that i won't recognise your scent? Or the way your body felt on top of me? The way you made me feel whenever you loved me? I know you, I have known you for years and that's all the truth I need to know okay? I'm the last person who'd ask for any justification from you”

You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him as tightly as you could, he didn't deserve this after everything he has been through, he was as honest as they come and now they had tarnished his image and his position in the police force on mere suspicions.

As you got into his bed you held onto him the way you used to, with his head resting on your breasts and your fingers running through his hair you tried to comfort him until he fell asleep.

Daemon hired Torres as his lawyer, he was taken off the case and suspended from the job until he was found not guilty. He had officially become the prime suspect in the barber killer case and you knew he wasn't taking it well.

Corlys Velaryon was hell bent on proving that Daemon was the one to orchestrate these murders due to his internal hatred for women but he had no solid evidence as for now that could incriminate him..

“He called me, at the Christmas party i received a call from the bastard” your eyes widened as he said that.

“What did he say?”

“He asked me to give regards to my mother the next time I see her” You didn't understand what that meant until Daemon spoke further “He didn't say your mother, he just said mother as if she was his mother --”

“Yeah my mother, i love her, do you like her y/n? Do you think she's nice? You have met her quite a few times i assume”

You remembered what the killer had said to you. You stood up and looked at Daemon contemplating for a moment whether you should say it or not but you knew you had to make him think of that possibility.

“What if your mother is…his mother as well and she raised him the way she raised you...like a girl?”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

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#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon x reader smut #daemon x reader fluff #daemon x reader angst #non canon au #modern day au #modern daemon targaryen #tw rape #dark fic

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